#verify compatibility

[technocorps-blog]

How much time does it take to develop an app?

The time required to develop a mobile app is determined by its complexity, features, and platform (iOS, Android, or both). Typically, it can take between 3 and 9 months. The process starts with planning and research, which typically takes 2-4 weeks to determine the app's goal, target audience, and important features. The design phase (4-8 weeks) is the next step, during which wireframes and prototypes are used to create the user interface (UI) and user experience.

The development phase, which includes coding, takes the longest—ranging from 2 to 6 months or more, depending on whether the app is simple (e.g., a calculator) or complicated, with features such as real-time chat, payment systems, or AI. Testing and quality assurance take 2-6 weeks to correct errors, verify compatibility, and improve performance. Finally, the deployment phase takes approximately 1-2 weeks for app store submissions and approvals.

Third-party integrations, design revisions, and team skill can all influence the timeline. Working with an experienced app development team guarantees efficiency and quality. Whether you're creating a basic or complicated software, proper planning and teamwork can help to speed up the process.

[eldritchlittleblackdragon]

Huh. So I've basically spent most of my weekend installing games on my Steam Deck and I tinkered around with it and. It's basically a mini Linux gaming computer and you can even switch it to a desktop mode and install other stuff on it.

Neat.

[truelymarry2]

The New Era of Love: When Artificial Intelligence Meets Indian Matrimony

Tired of endless swipes and mismatched rishtas? Welcome to the new age of matrimony, where AI matchmaking in India is helping people find truly compatible life partners, not just based on filters, but on real emotional and personality alignment.

From AI compatibility matching to verified profiles, modern AI-based matchmaking platforms like TruelyMarry are transforming the way Indians approach marriage — blending tradition with technology.

This is not just about faster matches. It's about smarter, safer, and more meaningful connections.

Why AI in Matrimony Works:

Personalized compatibility scores

Verified profiles with smart AI checks

Emotional alignment, not just biodata

Useful for arranged and love marriages

Matchmaking that fits your values and lifestyle

Want to experience a new way to meet your perfect match?

Start your AI matchmaking journey with TruelyMarry — the best matrimonial site for serious seekers.

Sign up now. Love, verified.

[news4nose]

Do you know that there are hidden, harmful commands within that normal-looking code? Instead of relying on copy-pasting, take the time to learn and understand the commands you’re using. Learning the basics of command-line operations can go a long way in helping you.

[vmddrawing]

✦ 100 LEONS IN A YEAR ✦

(8/100) drawings of Leon S. Kennedy because I made it my personality and I’m seeing it through.

> INITIATING CONNECTION...

> DSO OPERATIVE TERMINAL [WDC-CORE-NODE-03]

> LOGIN ACCEPTED [LEVEL 6+]

> AGENT ID VERIFIED

> STANDBY...

> ACCESSING FILE: DS-274H_ISSUE_VOL30

> SECURE CHANNEL ESTABLISHED

---------------------------------------------------

FILE NAME: SILENT_DIVISION_VOL_30

SUBJECT: KENNEDY, LEON S. [DSO-274H]

CLASSIFICATION: SHADOW OPERATIVE // DIVISION 4

PUBLISH CODE: 09-3025-WDC

DISTRIBUTION STATUS: ACTIVE (INTERNAL ONLY)

[EXCERPT]

“Kennedy has a kill count higher than most strike teams.

Why he’s still classified as ‘civilian-compatible’ is beyond me.”

– DSO Analyst [REDACTED]

MISSION FILE NOTES:

– OPERATION TYPE: COVERT ELIMINATION

– REGION: EUROPEAN CORRIDOR

– STATUS: SUCCESSFUL

– COLLATERAL: MINIMAL

– RETRIEVAL: CONFIRMED

MATERIAL PURPOSE:

– BEHAVIORAL PROFILING

– FIELD PATTERN ANALYSIS

– ASSET REACQUISITION PREP

– BLACK FILE FAMILIARIZATION

– VISUAL DOSSIER FOR TRAINING SIMULATION

DIGITAL COPY: RESTRICTED

PHYSICAL ISSUE: 9.98 RC CREDITS

TRACKING CODE: 9 781554-270927

---------------------------------------------------

> WARNING: EXPORTING FILE WILL TRIGGER ENCRYPTED TRACE

> OBSERVE ONLY – DO NOT DISTRIBUTE

> LOG END.

> FILE SENT TO: WDC // SHADOW ARCHIVE NODE

> DISCONNECTING...

Extra content Bellow 🎀✨🗡️

Enjoy ♡⁠(⁠Ӧ⁠ｖ⁠Ӧ⁠｡⁠)

[felassan]

GOG has announced a Preservation Program, preserving old games for current and future PC setups. Over 100 games have now been "preserved by GOG". one of these games is Dragon Age: Origins - Ultimate Edition. change notes/updates made:

"Dragon Age: Origins – Ultimate Edition #### Update (13 November 2024) – Enabled Large Address Aware (LAA) support to enhance memory utilization. – Limited the game to 2 CPU cores to boost performance and stability. – Verified compatibility with Windows 10 and 11. – Added Cloud Saves support."

[source]

[jungkoode]

CODE : EPITAPH | 01

"perfect match, death protocol"

"You've always known how you'd die. Not the when or the where—just the how. The Consortium would catch you. They'd execute you. What you never counted on was this precise flavor of fucked."

next | index | wc: 4.2k

↦author's note : Ohhhhh boy. Ohhhhhh Kiki Nation. You thought I was done tormenting you? Foolish. Delusional. Have you met me? You really thought I'd let Jungkook carry all the emotionally constipated weight of fanfic war crimes on his impossibly broad back? No no no. It's Namjoon's turn, baby. That's right. Brainy. Brutal. Built like the consequences of my own unresolved issues. The man is a walking philosophical contradiction in tactical gear and I said, "Yeah. I'm gonna ruin him." So welcome to whatever the hell this is. First of all, let's just get one thing out of the way: this story is NOT set on Earth. I made up a planet. A sexy, miserable, tragic one. Aurora cycles? Check. Weird tectonic atmospheric vents? Obviously. Heat cycles??? Look. Listen. It's not ABO. I'm not an animal. But also… smut. And Namjoon. And a knife against your throat at a molecular compatibility clinic. You get it. This fic is rooted in completely unhinged planetary science that exists only because I had a horny idea and then overcommitted to the worldbuilding. Combat pheromones. Yes. I said it. Combat. Pheromones. Did I take the concept of primal attraction and militarize it like an emotionally damaged sci-fi gremlin? Absolutely. This fic is… well. It's messy. It's brutal. It's horny in the way trauma sometimes is. Namjoon here is not the safe space. He's the algorithm. The architect. The man who built a machine that decides who lives and who dies—and now he has to sit across from the one person who might break the whole system. So yeah. Sixty days until one of them dies. Or both of them fall apart trying not to. This is not FMU. This isn't "oops we're roommates and now I hate how hot you are." This is "I will gut you if I get the chance but god help me I want to kiss you in the fallout bunker." Love, Kiki (who clearly has a god complex and no intention of using it for peace)

You've always known how you'd die. Not the when or the where—just the how.

The Consortium would catch you. They'd execute you. Public, probably. They like the spectacle of rebels bleeding out under aurora light.

What you never counted on was this precise flavor of fucked.

The readout on the terminal blinks, sixty seconds of staring doing nothing to change the numbers: 100%. A perfect match. The first in recorded history.

You rip the connector from your wrist, the medical port leaving a perfect circle of blood welling up where the needle pulled free. The diagnostic bay smells like antiseptic and metal—the universal scent of bad news.

"Run it again," you tell Yoongi, who's hunched over the stolen medical interface like it might suddenly bite him.

"Wouldn't make a difference." His voice carries that particular Hollow Crest flatness—half sarcasm, half resignation. "System's triple-verified the sample against the database. It's real."

You pace the cramped confines of the abandoned medical outpost. Three steps. Wall. Three steps. Wall. The ceiling leaks something dark that's not quite water, hitting the concrete in a rhythm that matches the pounding in your skull.

Through the cracked viewport, the atmospheric glow shifts from deep blue to amber. Kindle's ending early today.

Fuck.

That means Wane in two hours, maybe less. The tunnels turn into hunting grounds when the light dies.

But that’s not the worst part. The worst part is who you’ve been paired to by the Epitaph System.

Perfect genetic match with Commander Kim Namjoon. The fucking architect himself.

The man who built the algorithm that decides which matched pair lives through Transference and which one dies. The machine that's slaughtered thousands while claiming to save the species from Veris. The coldest bastard in the Consortium's command structure.

And apparently, your genetic twin. Your perfect fucking match.

"This is a joke, right?" Your laugh scrapes raw from your throat. "The great rebel hacker and the Consortium's prize tactician? What, did they manipulate my profile in the database?"

Yoongi doesn't bother looking up, fingers skimming over the interface. His hands are scarred from years of working with explosives, chemical burns mapping a history of missions across his skin. 

“Database is clean. This is a primary pull, not from the central network. Direct sample comparison."

The reality sinks teeth into your gut. "He'll know."

"Already does." Yoongi's voice drops lower. "Alert went system-wide the moment the match registered. They'll be hunting you."

"They've been hunting me for years." 

You check your gear reflexively—blade at your hip, pistol in its holster, backup knife in your boot. The weight is familiar, comforting in its lethality. 

"This just changes the price on my head."

"This isn't a bounty adjustment." Yoongi finally looks up, and the rare direct eye contact makes your spine stiffen. "This is different. The Consortium needs you alive now. Intact. For Transference."

The word hangs between you like a death sentence, which it is. 

One match survives the procedure. One dies. 

The Epitaph Algorithm determines which—its selection criteria known only to Namjoon himself.

"I'm not surrendering to that death lottery," you say, checking the ammunition counter on your pistol. "Especially not with him on the other end."

"Not asking you to." 

Yoongi rises, tucking the portable interface into his pack. You catch the faint scent of explosives that always clings to him, metallic and sharp. 

"But Jimin's on his way with news. High-level Consortium chatter. We need to know what we're dealing with."

Your jaw tightens. "We're dealing with me on a countdown to either execution or unwanted immunity."

The door to the outpost slides open with a pneumatic hiss, admitting a gust of cold air that tastes like steel and chemical runoff—the familiar breath of Hollow Crest's lower levels. 

Jimin steps through, silver-blonde hair stark against his stealth gear. Despite the urgency, he moves with no wasted energy.

One look at his face tells you everything.

"They've adjusted the standard protocols," he says, not bothering with greetings. "Consortium's deploying specialized units. They want you within the hour."

"They can keep wanting." You check your comm unit, scanning frequencies for Consortium chatter. "I'll be halfway to the Scorch Rift by then."

Jimin's hand closes around your wrist, his grip stronger than his frame suggests. "You don't understand. They've instituted a Protection Protocol. Anyone harboring you is marked for immediate execution. Anyone helping you escape—the same. They've already deployed squads to known Shroud safehouses."

The implications wash over you like acid. 

"They're forcing allies to become hunters."

"It gets worse." 

Jimin releases your wrist, pulling up a projection from his own comm unit. A holographic map of Hollow Crest shivers to life between you, red markers pulsing at key tunnel junctions. 

"They've sealed all primary exits. Secondary routes are being patrolled by drones. They're not just hunting you—they're burning the entire sector to flush you out."

"Because of a blood match?" Your voice sharpens. "They've never gone this far for a Transference capture."

"You've never seen a 100% match before." Yoongi's voice drops like a stone. "Nobody has. The implications for the Epitaph System itself..."

The words die as a distant boom shakes dust from the ceiling. Proximity charges. Consortium's getting closer.

"We need to move," Jimin says, already gathering his pack. "Safe route through maintenance shaft C4 is still clear. We've got maybe twenty minutes before they sweep this sector."

You grab your gear, muscle memory taking over while your mind races. "Where's Jungkook? And Taehyung?"

"Jungkook's creating diversions near the border checkpoints," Jimin answers, checking the seal on his mask. "Taehyung was on a supply run when the alert went out. Still no contact."

Something cold settles in your stomach. 

Taehyung going silent during a crisis never ends well.

The three of you move into the tunnel, the faint blue-green phosphorescent fungi that crawls along the walls providing just enough light to navigate by. The air grows thicker as you descend, way too dense woth mineral dust and the peculiar damp of Hollow Crest's recirculated atmosphere.

"Wait." 

You freeze, one hand raised. The tunnel ahead is silent—too silent. Even the distant hum of ventilation systems seems muffled. 

“Something's wrong."

Yoongi's hand goes to the explosive charges at his belt, a reflex born from years of narrow escapes. 

Jimin pulls a scanner from his jacket, checking for life signs.

"Clear readings," he whispers, "but something's interfering with—"

The wall to your right explodes inward, chunks of concrete and metal rebar ripping through the air. The concussive force throws you against the opposite wall, your shoulder taking the brunt of the impact. 

Through dust and debris, armored figures pour into the tunnel—Consortium Purifiers, their masks filtering the dust, weapons raised.

You draw your pistol in one fluid motion, muscle memory overriding the pain screaming through your shoulder. 

Two shots—the first catches a Purifier in the neck joint of their armor, the second misses as the tunnel fills with suppression gas. 

Yoongi hurls something toward the breach, a small device that clatters among the Purifiers' feet. 

“Down!" he shouts, and you have just enough time to cover your face before the flashbang detonates, momentarily blinding your attackers.

Your blade finds the gap in a Purifier's armor as they stumble. Jimin is now using his modified medical tools as weapons, striking pressure points. Yoongi creates chaos, small charges blasting debris to create cover.

But there are too many. 

For every Purifier that falls, two more push through the breach. 

Your lungs burn from the suppression gas, vision narrowing as your body fights the sedative compounds. 

Beside you, Jimin staggers, his reactions slowing.

A voice cuts through the haze—amplified, cold, and terrifyingly familiar even though you've only heard it through propaganda broadcasts.

"Stand down." 

Commander Kim Namjoon steps through the chaos, flanked by elite guards. 

The architect of the Epitaph System himself—a tall figure in black tactical gear that absorbs the meager light. 

His eyes are obsidian dark and assessing as they lock onto you. A streak of white cuts through his otherwise black hair—a genetic marker you've seen in Consortium propaganda. 

The mark of exceptional neural development.

"Rebel." 

The word sounds wrong in his mouth. 

"Resistance will only result in collateral damage to your associates. The Transference Protocol has been initiated."

You raise your pistol, aiming directly at his head. 

"Then why don't I save us all the trouble and put a bullet in your skull right now? No match, no protocol."

He doesn't even blink. "Because the Consortium has already deployed Purification squads to three rebel safehouses. Your cooperation ensures their survival. Your resistance guarantees their execution."

Your finger hovers on the trigger, hatred a physical pressure behind your eyes. 

You could do it. End the architect of so much suffering with a single shot. 

But the calculation is clear—he wouldn't be here without insurance policies in place.

"You're lying," you snarl, but doubt creeps in—because you know the Consortium would absolutely slaughter innocents to secure a prize like you.

"I don't lie when the truth is more effective." He responds monotonically. "Sixty days. The standard countdown for all matched pairs before Transference. Cooperate, and no one else dies today."

Beside you, Jimin struggles to stand, the suppression gas taking its toll. Yoongi has gone completely still.

"And if I refuse? If I put a bullet in your brain right now?" 

"Then you eliminate the only person with authority to call off the Purification squads." 

His lips curve in what might be a smile on anyone else. 

On him, it's just another weapon. 

"Your reputation suggests you're many things, but not someone who sacrifices innocents for personal vendettas."

The worst part is he's right. You've spent years ensuring your actions hurt the Consortium, not its victims. 

Still, your finger remains on the trigger, the temptation almost overwhelming.

Namjoon extends a hand, palm up. Empty. A gesture that should appear peaceful but somehow reads as the most threatening thing you've ever seen.

"Sixty days. Then the Epitaph Algorithm determines our fate. Until then, neither side benefits from pointless casualties."

You lower your weapon slowly, hate burning cold in your chest. 

“When this is over, only one of us walks away." 

"Indeed. Those are the terms of Transference."

As Purifiers move to secure you, you lock eyes with Yoongi. A slight nod passes between you—the signal established years ago. 

This isn't surrender. It's tactical repositioning. You'll find another angle, another weakness to exploit. 

You always do.

The Commander steps closer, and you catch his scent—cold stone and mineral water, like a mountain stream in winter. Nothing warm or human. It fits.

"Welcome to the Epitaph Program, rebel."

You bare your teeth in what no one would mistake for a smile. 

"Looking forward to watching you die, Commander."

Something dangerous flickers in his eyes—the first genuine reaction you've seen. Good. You've found a nerve. You'll need every advantage for what's coming.

Because one thing is certain: in sixty days, either Commander Kim Namjoon dies, or you do.

And you've never been good at dying.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

You're seated across from the man who built the machine that's going to kill one of you in sixty days. 

Or part of it. Not that you care what his stupid fucking job really entails.

The transport vehicle reeks of fear and industrial disinfectant, and the restraints around your wrists are some kind of adaptive metal—tight enough to cut circulation if you struggle, loose enough to maintain the illusion that cooperation might earn you breathing room.

It won't.

Commander Kim Namjoon hasn't looked at you since the Purifiers loaded you into the back of this armored carrier. He's reviewing something on a tablet, stylus moving across the screen. 

That silver strand of hair stands out like a scar, and you imagine pulling it out. 

You inwardly promise yourself one day you’ll do it.

You then catalog details because that's what keeps you alive. Emergency release on the restraints—magnetic, probably voice-activated by his authorization. Door mechanism—sealed from the outside, no manual override. Two Purifiers flanking the exit, weapons drawn but not aimed. They're confident you're contained.

Fucking amateurs.

The vehicle hits a pothole, jarring your shoulder against the metal wall. The impact sends fire down your arm where you took that hit during the tunnel breach. You don't let the pain show on your face.

Never give them ammunition.

"Impressive response time," you say, breaking the silence because you need to understand his operational patterns. "From match notification to capture—what, forty-seven minutes? Someone's been planning for contingencies."

He doesn't look up from his tablet. "Standard protocol accounts for high-value targets attempting immediate extraction."

"High-value." You test the word, find it bitter. "That what I am now?"

"You are a 100% genetic match." His voice carries no inflection, like he's reading from a technical manual. "The first documented case in Epitaph Program history. Your research value exceeds your threat designation."

Research value. 

Like you're a fucking specimen.

You lean forward as much as the restraints allow, forcing him to acknowledge your presence. 

“Let me guess—you're going to poke and prod and analyze every cell in my body to figure out why the great Algorithm paired us up. See if you can replicate the conditions."

That gets a reaction. His stylus stops moving. His eyes lift from the screen to meet yours, and for a split second you see something flicker behind the cold assessment—irritation, maybe. Or calculation.

"The Algorithm doesn't make errors," he says. "If we're matched, there's a biological imperative the system recognized that we haven't yet identified."

We. Like you're partners in this.

"Sorry to break it to you, Commander, but the only biological imperative I have regarding you is figuring out which vital organ to perforate first."

He sets the tablet aside, giving you his full attention for the first time since the capture; and the weight of his focus is unsettling—like being examined by something predatory that's deciding whether you're worth the effort to kill.

"Your reputation suggests tactical intelligence despite emotional volatility," he says. "The Algorithm factors psychological compatibility alongside genetic markers. There must be structural similarities in our cognitive architecture."

The clinical way he dissects the situation makes your skin crawl. 

"Structural similarities. Right. Because we're both such charming personalities."

"Neither of us appears capable of forming conventional emotional attachments. We prioritize mission objectives over personal sentiment. We've both sacrificed individuals we were responsible for when strategic necessity demanded it."

The observation hits like a blade between ribs. 

Too accurate. Too specific.

"Sounds like you've done your homework."

"I researched your operational history after the match registered. Hollow Crest tunnels, Mournwell extraction, the data theft from Virex Shard. Your tactical approach is methodical. Ruthless when required." His head tilts slightly, studying you like a particularly interesting equation. "Not what I expected from rebel psychological profiles."

"Disappointed I don't fit your propaganda?"

"Intrigued that you understand the necessity of calculated sacrifice."

The words land where he wants them to, and you realize he's testing you. 

Probing for reaction points. 

Two can play that game.

"Calculated sacrifice," you repeat, letting mockery creep into your voice. "Is that what you call the thousands who've died in your Transference chambers? Calculations?"

Something shifts in his expression—subtle, but you've spent years reading micro-expressions in combat situations. His jaw tightens by maybe half a millimeter.

"Every death serves species survival. Individual casualties are regrettable but necessary to prevent extinction-level population decline."

"How convenient that you get to decide who's expendable."

"The Algorithm decides."

"You built the Algorithm."

"I built a system that makes optimal choices without emotional compromise."

You lean back, studying him. "And what happens when the system decides you're expendable? When we're strapped into those chairs and your precious Algorithm picks me to survive?"

For several seconds, he doesn't respond. It’s just your breathing, his, and the vehicle’s engine.

"The Algorithm doesn't account for personal preference," he finally says. "If it selects you, the result serves optimal biological continuation."

"That's not what I asked."

His fingers drum once against his knee—such a small gesture you almost miss it. "I've prepared for all possible outcomes."

Bullshit. Nobody prepares to die, not really. 

And especially not someone who's spent years playing god with other people's lives.

You're about to press the point when the vehicle lurches to a halt. The Purifiers straighten, hands tightening on their weapons.

Through the small reinforced window, you catch a glimpse of Valis Core's outer ring—towering spires of black stone and steel that seem to absorb light rather than reflect it. 

The architecture is designed to intimidate, and you hate that it's effective.

"Welcome to your new accommodations," Namjoon says, rising as the rear doors unlock. "I trust you'll find them... sufficient."

The way he says sufficient makes it sound like a threat.

One of the Purifiers moves to release your restraints, and you resist the urge to test their reflexes. 

Not yet. 

You need to understand the lay of the land first, map escape routes, identify weaknesses.

Patience. Even when everything in you screams to fight.

"After you," you say as the metal cuffs retract. "Wouldn't want to miss the grand tour."

He steps aside to let you exit first, a gesture that might seem polite if not for the armed guards surrounding the vehicle. 

The Epitaph Citadel looms ahead, its central spire disappearing into the aurora-streaked sky. 

Somewhere inside that building is the machine that will determine which of you dies.

Sixty days.

You step forward, boots ringing against polished stone, and don't look back to see if Commander Kim Namjoon is following.

He is, of course. 

You can feel his presence like static electricity—a constant, irritating awareness that prickles along your spine.

This is going to be a very long sixty days.

But you've survived worse odds before. And if the Algorithm thinks it can break you down into components and variables, it's about to learn something new about what happens when you back a Hollow Crest tunnel rat into a corner.

You don't go quietly. You bring the whole fucking place down with you.

Your boots hit the ground with excessive force once you make it to the Citadel.

It’s obscenely loud, in comparison to the city. 

But that’s good. They should know you're not going quietly.

The atmosphere is sterile, a half-hearted attempt at breathable. Your lungs reject it on instinct, tasting the air in all its hollow decadence—too clean, too wrong, stripped bare.

You take three steps toward the massive entrance before Commander Kim falls into step beside you. 

Then ahead of you.

The audacity.

He walks like he owns every molecule of air in this place, shoulders straight, pace measured. Like you're supposed to follow him like some obedient fucking pet.

You stop walking.

The sudden halt makes the Purifiers behind you tense, hands shifting on their weapons. But you're not looking at them. You're staring at the back of Namjoon's head, at that streak of silver cutting through black hair.

"Is there an issue?" He doesn't turn around. Doesn't even slow his stride.

"Yeah, actually." Your voice carries across the courtyard. "Where exactly do you think you're going?"

Now he stops. Turns. Those dark eyes scan you like you’re a broken system readout—something in need of diagnostics.

"To show you your living arrangements."

Living arrangements.

“Be deadass right now."

A slight head tilt. That’s all you get while he tries to decrypt whatever ‘deadass’ means.

And failing, because apparently fluency in rebel sarcasm isn’t part of the Citadel curriculum.

"The Transference Protocol requires proximity monitoring. You'll be housed in the Citadel for the duration of the countdown."

Housed. 

Like livestock.

Your feet plant themselves against the stone, rooted by pure stubborn fury. 

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Your preferences are irrelevant." He states it like a law of physics. "The sixty-day monitoring period begins immediately."

"Monitoring—" 

The word sticks in your throat like glass. 

Because now you understand. 

This isn't just imprisonment. They're going to watch you. Study you. Document every heartbeat and breath and moment of weakness while you wait to die.

"No." The word tears out of you, rough and raw. "Absolutely fucking not."

One of the Purifiers steps forward, clearly interpreting your refusal as a threat. Namjoon raises a hand—barely a gesture—and the guard freezes.

"Resistance will not alter the Protocol," he says. "Your genetic compatibility requires observation to understand the unprecedented synchronization patterns. This is not negotiable."

The clinical way he dissects your future makes your skin crawl—as if you're already dead, just a collection of data points waiting to be analyzed.

"I'd rather take my chances in the execution chamber."

"That option is no longer available."

The Purifier behind you moves—not threatening, but positioning. Ready to assist if you decide to bolt. 

Your muscles coil instinctively, mapping distances, calculating angles.

Could you take three armed guards? Probably not without significant injury. Could you reach a weapon? Maybe, if you were fast enough and lucky enough and willing to sacrifice—

"Walk," Namjoon says, and somehow that single word carries more menace than any threat. "Or be carried. Your dignity is the only variable you control."

Dignity.

The bastard knows exactly which nerve to hit.

You force your feet to move, each step feeling like capitulation. But you're not surrendering. You're adapting. Learning the terrain. 

Finding the cracks you'll eventually exploit.

Namjoon resumes walking, and you fall into step beside him—not behind, because fuck him and his superiority complex—matching his pace. 

If he notices the aggressive mirror of his movement, he doesn't acknowledge it.

"The monitoring period involves shared tactical exercises," he continues, voice neutral as he explains your nightmare. "Joint mission parameters across multiple sectors. Physiological compatibility assessments every forty-eight hours."

Shared tactical exercises. Joint missions.

The implications hit like hammer blows.

"You're saying we're going to be—" Your voice catches. Clears. Continues with forced steel. "Working together."

"The Protocol requires operational cooperation. Your survival skills complement my strategic analysis. The Consortium benefits from the collaboration while studying our genetic synchronization."

Our. Like you're a team. Like you've chosen this.

"And if I refuse to cooperate?"

He stops again, turning to face you fully. 

For the second time since the capture, you have his complete attention. It feels like standing in the path of an avalanche.

"Then you remain confined to observation chambers while your rebel associates face the consequences of harboring a Priority Target."

The threat lands exactly where he aimed it. 

Yoongi. Jimin. Even Jungkook, wherever he is. 

Your cooperation isn't just about your own survival—it's about keeping the Consortium from turning their very considerable attention toward hunting down everyone you've ever worked with.

Checkmate in three fucking moves.

You want to hit him. Want to drive your fist into that perfectly composed face and watch him bleed. Want to see if anything human exists behind those calculating eyes.

Instead, you smile. Sharp enough to cut.

"How thoughtful of you to give me such compelling motivation."

"I find practical incentives more effective than ideological appeals."

"Right. Because you're such a practical man." 

He turns and continues walking toward the Citadel's entrance—a massive archway that seems designed to swallow people whole. You follow because the alternative is being dragged, and you'll be damned if you give him that satisfaction.

But with every step, rage builds like pressure behind your ribs.

Sixty days of this. Sixty days of shared missions and proximity monitoring and having to look at his face while he calmly explains how one of you is going to die.

Sixty days of pretending cooperation while planning his destruction.

The entrance hall is honestly ugly—all polished black stone and cold light, very Citadel vibes. The sound of your booths get swallowed by the vast empty space.

"Your quarters are on Level Seven," Namjoon says as you walk. "Adjacent to the monitoring facilities. Meals are provided at scheduled intervals. Personal effects will be processed and returned based on security assessment."

Adjacent to monitoring facilities. Of course.

"And you?" The question slips out before you can stop it. "Where are your quarters?"

He glances at you—a quick, measuring look. "Level Eight. Protocol requires close proximity without direct cohabitation during the initial assessment period."

One floor up. Close enough to respond to any emergency, far enough to maintain the illusion of separate accommodation.

Your laugh scrapes raw from your throat. "How considerate. Wouldn't want to make this too uncomfortable."

"Comfort is not a consideration. Operational efficiency is."

You turn back to face him, noting the way he’s positioned himself just outside striking distance. Like he’s calculated exactly how far your reach extends if you actually wanted to drag his stupid face through the ground.

Probably has.

“You think you’re clever.” Your voice comes out rougher than intended. “Backing me into corners, limiting my options. Playing chess while I’m stuck playing checkers.”

His head tilts again—that same assessment that makes your skin crawl.

“I think you’re more intelligent than your file suggests. And far more dangerous than standard containment protocols account for.” His eyes never leave yours. “Which is why we’re having this conversation instead of proceeding with unconscious transport to a restraint chair.”

The casual mention of restraints sends ice through your veins. “So kind of you.”

“Practical.” He gestures toward the door again. “As I said, entirely your choice. Cooperation with dignity, or compliance without it.”

Choice. Like either option doesn’t end with you trapped in his maze.

But he’s right about one thing—your dignity is all you have left. And you’d rather walk into hell on your own terms than be dragged.

You step toward the door, noting the way he doesn’t relax until you’re moving in the right direction.

Smart man. You are exactly as dangerous as he suspects.

Maybe more.

The biometric scanner reads your palm print, and the door slides open. 

The room beyond is… not what you expected. Clean. Comfortable. Almost pleasant, if you can ignore the complete absence of windows or any view of the outside world.

“Welcome to your new home,” Namjoon says from behind you. “I trust you’ll find it adequate.”

You step inside, already cataloging the space. Bed. Desk. Small attached bathroom. No obvious surveillance equipment, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

“When do these interaction periods start?” 

You don’t turn around, afraid you’ll throttle him if you see his expression once more.

“Tomorrow. After you’ve had time to… acclimate.”

The pause before acclimate tells you everything you need to know. They expect you to break down. To crack under the pressure of isolation and impending death.

They’re going to be utterly, vastly disappointed.

You turn to face him one last time before the door closes between you.

“See you tomorrow, Commander.”

His eyes meet yours, and for just a moment, something passes between you. 

Recognition, maybe. 

Or the acknowledgment that this is going to be a very long sixty days for both of you.

“Indeed.”

The door slides shut with finality that feels like a coffin lid closing.

You’re alone. Trapped. 

Sixty days from either death or unwanted salvation.

But you’re still breathing. Still thinking. Still planning.

And Commander Kim Namjoon has no idea what he’s just locked himself in close proximity with.

next | index

taglist ✦ @cannotalwaysbenight @taevescence @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap  @mikrokookiex @minniejim @curse-of-art @mellyyyyyyx @rpwprpwprpwprw @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @dltyum @dailynnt @sashakittyct @bjoriis @hemmosfear 

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[mostlysignssomeportents]

We bullied HP into a minor act of disenshittification

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO TOMORROW (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.

Here in the darkest days of the enshittocene, enshittification is low quality and plentiful, but even in this target-rich environment, one company stands out as pioneering champions of enshittification: HP.

Every page in the enshittification playbook was printed in farcically expensive HP ink, and if you try to run a copy off for yourself, the printer will stop five times and force you to print a "calibration page" that is solid color from top to bottom, consuming about $10 worth of ink. Don't like it? Die mad.

HP drips with contempt for its customers. They make printer-scanners that won't scan unless all four ink cartridges are installed and haven't reached their best-before dates. They make printers that won't print black and white if your $50 magenta cartridge is low. They sell you printers with special half-full cartridges that need to be replaced pretty much as soon as the printer has run off its mandatory "calibration" pages. The full-serving ink you buy to replace those special demitasse cartridges is also booby-trapped – HP reports them as empty when they're still 20% full.

HP tricks customers into signing up for irrevocable subscriptions where you have to pay every month, whether or not you print, and if you exceed your subscription cap, the printer refuses to work, no matter how much ink is left. Now, about those HP ink subscriptions. When the company launched them, they offered a pot-sweetener meant to tempt in the wary: a one-price "lifetime subscription" that would let you print 15 pages every month, for so long as you owned the printer. But a couple years later, all those "free ink for life" customers got an email telling them that they were being migrated to a monthly payment plan, and if they didn't like it, they could eat shit and throw away their printers:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/11/06/horrible-products/#inkwars

HP pioneered the use of copyright law to prevent third parties from refilling ink cartridges or making their own compatible cartridges. Section 1201 of Bill Clinton's Digital Millennium Copyright Act makes it a felony to distribute a "circumvention device" to bypass access controls on a copyrighted work. By designing its cartridges do undertake a little cryptographic handshake with the printer to verify their "authenticity," HP ensures that anyone who markets a bypass device to let you choose which ink you use in your own damn printer is a felon, liable to five years in prison and a $500 fine under DMCA 1201.

Of course, nature finds a way. Hardware hackers have come up with some insanely cool bypass devices for HP printer cartridges, like these paper-thin, flexible, adhesive-backed circuit boards that wrap around third party cartridges, intercepting communications between the printer and a salvaged HP security chip:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/30/life-finds-a-way/#ink-stained-wretches

But HP fights back, and they fight dirty. For example, they periodically push out "security updates" for their printers that break compatibility with third party cartridges. To prevent HP customers from discovering and blocking these fake security updates, HP designs them to lie dormant for months after installation, until everyone has clicked "OK," and then all those Manchurian Printers wake up and betray their owners by refusing to use their ink:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

All of this has allowed HP to monotonically raise – and raise – and raise – the price of printer ink to the point where it is now the most expensive fluid a civilian can purchase without a permit. Printer ink now runs over $10,000/gallon, meaning that you print out your grocery lists with colored water that costs more than the semen of a Kentucky Derby winner.

HP is truly the poster child for enshittification, and also, patient zero in the enshittification pandemic:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/18/ink-stained-wretches/#hache-pe

HP's enshittificatory impulses run wild. They hunt relentlessly for ways to make things worse for their customers in order to make things better for themselves. Last week, they came up with a humdinger, even by their own standards. They announced that people who called their customer service line would be subject to mandatory 15-minute waits, even if there was a rep who was free to talk with them:

https://www.theregister.com/2025/02/20/hp_deliberately_adds_15_minutes/

During this mandatory 15-minute wait, customers would be bombarded with a recorded voice demanding that they solve their problems by consulting HP's website and its awful chatbots. In a competitive market, businesses can contain their customer service costs by making better products. In a monopolistic market like the printer racket, companies can deliberately introduce maddening antifeatures to their products, and then fob off the customers who reach such a peak of frustrated rage that they resort to calling a customer support number on chatbot that will use its spicy autocomplete to hallucinate nonexistent drivers and imaginary troubleshooting steps.

When I saw this, I thought, whelp, that's HP all right. Shameless.

But they're not entirely shameless. Within a day of Paul Kunert breaking the story in The Register, HP had reversed its policy, citing "feedback" (a corporate euphemism that means "fury"):

https://www.theregister.com/2025/02/21/hp_ditches_15_minute_wait_time_call_centers/

This is a rare win for the forces of disenhittification and it deserves recognition. It turns out that in these Mangionean times, companies can actually be bullied into comporting themselves with marginally less sleaze and cruelty. It's especially noteworthy that this took place in the UK, where Prime Minister Kier Starmer has invited tech companies to pick Britons' pockets without fear of consequence, by firing the top competition regulator and replacing him with the former head of Amazon UK:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/01/22/autocrats-of-trade/#dingo-babysitter

Even in these degraded times, we can get these fuckers. When Sonos enshittifies its smart speakers, we can get its CEO fired:

https://www.theverge.com/2025/1/13/24342179/sonos-ceo-patrick-spence-resignation-reason-app

When Unity sticks its hand in the pockets of every game dev in the world, we can get its entire executive team shitcanned:

https://venturebeat.com/games/john-riccitiello-steps-down-as-ceo-of-unity-after-pricing-battle/

It doesn't always work. Enshittifiers rack up some Ws, and make bank even as they immiserate 500 million users (looking at you, Steve Huffman – the people have long memories):

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2023_Reddit_API_controversy

But if we can bully the psychotic monsters who populate HP's Executive Row out of their enshittificatory plans, then it's worth trying it every time.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/22/ink-spattered-pitchforks/#racehorse-semen

[lucentshore]

obviously we'll have to wait and see, but i've been eyeing the steamdb page for silksong since i heard that team cherry uploaded language packs for the achievements, and i figure it might be a good idea to show what i've watched be uploaded in that time, for those curious about silksong development stuff.

for anyone who wants to review this themselves, here is the link to the steamdb page for the game.

so that others dont have to go to the page to verify what i'll be talking about here, i will provide screenshots. it's all under the cut, but if you don't want to read it all,

tldr; team cherry has uploaded translation packages for achievements in ten different languages (viewable on the steam page), uploaded two game packages (one of which uses the official title, the other being noted for developer & publisher use), updated a time or two more without adding details, and updated compatible operating systems to include mac & linux (not updated on the steam page).

JUNE 3RD, 2025.

this was the translation package that restarted the silksong rumors! the steam page was updated to reflect the languages the game will be available in now, too, while steamdb specifically noted them to be achievement languages.

the added languages are brazillian portugese, english, french, german, italian, japenese, korean, russian, simplified chinese, and spanish.

after this, two more updates were released. the changelog doesn't note what they were,

but if you head to the packages tab, you'll see a total of three packages noted. the first two are the ones that were updated during this day.

i had to look this up, so just to explain the billing type,

CD & Store Keys are how a game is verified after purchase. its their way of confirming that okay, yes, you did buy the game, and this is your copy. theyre called CD keys, because when games were distributed only on CD keys years ago, it was on the CD itself.

nowadays, it's basically a confirmation of purchase upon installation.

SO. let's start with that top one. Steam Sub 342710 (link to package) is for developer and publisher use only. it has ten different CD keys, is licensed for single purchase, and is listed as having 0 available. i would speculate here, but i know fuck all about game development, and i'm not gonna give any false hope.

...though i do wanna point out that if you go into the history for that package it has been there since 2019, and based on how it talks about a release override and counting as always being owned, this definitely is a dev-use only package. anyway.

you can see the information listed on the package's page below.

the other one, bearing the game's full name of Hollow Knight: Silksong (link to package), was actually updated like. twenty minutes before the other one. which unironically probably does not mean much, don't look too far into it, im giving you a timeline here. that's it.

this one has ten CD & Store keys, as opposed to only having CD Keys. i tried to look up the difference, but couldn't find anything. it's also only for single purchase, and is listed as having 0 available. it also has cross-region trading and gifting disabled.

you can see the information listed on the package's page below.

and that was all the changes for june 3rd, 2025.

JUNE 4TH, 2025.

there was one update on june 4th, and despite poking around, i couldn't figure out what the update was to. the changelog lists that there was an update, but it doesn't say what was changed. shrug.

you can see that below.

JUNE 6TH, 2025.

starting out strong with. well. a repeat of june 4th, we have a listed update that i could not find a notable change from.

and then, thirty minutes or so later, the compatible operating systems list was updated! i'll be honest, i don't understand all of what's listed here, but i do understand that this is confirmation that silksong will be playable on windows, mac, and linux.

unfortunately, as of the time this post has been made, the steam page still has not been updated to reflect this compatibility update.

that is, as of the time this post has been made, the last update listed on the steamdb page for silksong.

[ms-demeanor]

So these computers will be mostly be used for CAD but also video editing. The time we are looking for is in the next few months. It will be running autodesk fusion which at minimum needs 2 cores, recommends 8 for cpu, needs 8gb of ram recommends 32gb, and needs aleast some sort of gpu and something like a nvidia quadro is recommended though I am mostly sure we would do fine with a 40s or 50s series GPU.

This is very funny to me because this is actually quite similar to the conundrum I had buying computers earlier today. Workstations are currently a bitch to get (and also that means that $1500 per device is somewhat unrealistic in the opposite direction of what I was initially thinking, especially given the graphics card)

------------------------------------

Hi Anon!

Thanks for the details! We're beginning to see some stock availability issues with hardware so I'm not finding anything that's a perfect match out-of-box for your needs but I believe I've found a solution that should be comfortably within budget as long as you've got in-house IT or an affordable contractor to help with the build.

What I've found is a Lenovo ThinkStation P3 Tiny that comes with a 20-Core, 14th gen i7 processor, 16GB DDR5 5600 MHz RAM (SoDIMM), and an Nvidia T400 4GB graphics card. The workstation includes an upgraded Lenovo Premiere warranty with next-day onsite service. The ThinkStation has one RAM module soldered to the motherboard but two free slots and can handle a max of 96GB, so I'd recommend purchasing this device and adding 16GB Crucial modules.

Just to be sure, I did verify that the graphics card with this device is on the list of compatible cards from Autodesk.

I'm finding the workstation available from a number of vendors at about $1200, and the RAM is available for around $50. With tax, that brings your per-unit cost to around $1400, leaving just under $100 per machine to account for the labor cost of installing the RAM.

Let me know if this sounds like a solution that works for you, or if you have any further questions.

Given your timeline, you could choose to place orders from vendors who are not carrying the full 30 machines right now, but considering the possibility of scarcity I'd recommend making a decision sooner rather than later.

Thanks! Ms-D

--------------------------------

Part of what I was struggling with on my quote today is that my employer doesn't want our techs mucking around with desktop hardware; we're not supposed to be ordering and upgrading before we send things out the door but that is not a limitation that an end purchaser has to live with so you (reader or anon) have more options and more flexibility when looking for computers than I do *IF* you make sure to check that you can do upgrades. It's not hard to add RAM to a desktop unless the RAM is soldered to the motherboard with no free slots, in which case it's impossible.

You can save a ridiculous amount of money on buying machines and have a LOT of options for dealing with scarcity if you know what kind of hardware is easy to fuck with.

In this instance, I wouldn't upgrade the GPU or by a card separate from the workstation (this computer has a 300W power supply and the computer itself is the size of most power supplies, so I wouldn't want to try to find something teeny tiny to work together), especially because there's a budget-friendly option that will allow the necessary programs to run available pre-built, but literally it would cost like five hundred dollars more to get something with more RAM. So save yourself a few hundred dollars by getting a fifty dollar RAM module and paying someone to install that in the machine or doing it yourself.

I don't think we're going to get to a point of completely empty shelves, but I do think we're likely to see fewer options that exactly match what we're looking for without doing some extra work. Large Bastard has been vaguely making noises about getting a new computer for the last two or three years and he's still on the fence and my comment to him was that I'm sure there's always going to be something available at a high enough cost, but there are going to be fewer choices if he has to replace a computer quickly (which, given the age of his desktop, he might have to at some point).

[teddie-kusuo]

Sims 4 Gumball & Darwin loading screen

Base game compatible

TS4 Custom Loading screen

Verified and Certified by myself

Don’t steal or pick my creations

Free Download on my Patreon !

[bogleech]

I've had the same hotmail email address since 1997 or 98, hotmail is owned by microsoft, and yet some major websites now tell me I can't use it to verify an account at all. It's "not supported." That's not the way this is supposed to work you fuckfaces. Email is not supposed to have limited brand compatability. How fucking dare you make me log into a vile gmail account. I now personally hate you so much that I wish I was tech savvy enough to make spambots that use gmail accounts against you out of sheer spite.

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Newfoundland and Labrador's post-secondary institutions have teamed up with an organization that can find housing for students, while helping to curb loneliness of seniors with room to spare.  SpacesShared, an online platform that helps pair seniors with empty rooms in their homes with students, has recently been launched in Newfoundland and Labrador. CEO Rylan Kinnon says the app uses an algorithm to match compatible students with older hosts interested in home sharing. "These are longer-term living relationships. We verify the host identity and their address. We verify the student's identity and that they are in fact enrolled at a post secondary institution," he said.  "Once they've actually connected through the platform, we support them. We check in with them a week after the student moves in and every month and if we identify any issues through that survey, we follow up with a phone call."

Continue Reading

Tagging @politicsofcanada

[windvexer]

Hello! 💚

I come seeking divination advice (kinda?):

I am pretty good at differentatiating between "what the cards(or other divination) are saying" and my "inner voice" when reading for other people. Its like my inner dialogue almost shuts off and and I can confidently interpret my divination when reading for others. Half the time, words are flowing from my mouth that I don't even register as my own until they're spoken.

But when it comes to reading for myself? Oh boy the self doubt is crazy. Especially since I've been working on developing my clairsenses for the past year or so.

Have you ever struggled with this? Any advice?

I get burnt out trying to commune with entities for myself because I am always double and triple checking my divination and struggle to trust myself. I always worry that "what if this is just what I want to hear rather than what's actually being said?"

Thank you lovely 💚🌿🪲

Good morning! I have 2 suggestions.

Rubber duck it: Choose a little effigy, perhaps a rubber duck, and speak to it as if you are reading for it instead of yourself. Try to distance yourself from your reading and intentionally format it as if it is a reading for others.

I find this closes the gap for me by about 80-90%; it's not exactly like reading for someone else, but it's also not just me floundering. It does take a little practice but it's a quick hack if you can get it down.

Employ discernment later on: I think it is probably a huge mistake to try and figure out if spirit experiences and readings are 'real' the exact moment they happen, like you are sorting them into a permanent box of True or Untrue.

The spirits give you a patch, and you completely unravel it trying to prove it's part of whole cloth. Some information you will not have the context to verify until you accept it as true and integrate it, or months or years later when you get other pieces of the puzzle.

And then, if people do successfully put the experience in a box of True or Untrue, they may be tempted to switch off their critical thinking forevermore about that bit of knowledge. Which is Bad.

Third, it's my experience that refusing to trust what your spirits say, even if you blame yourself for the lack of trust, is deleterious to those relationships. There's only so many times you can say "I don't believe I had real communication with you" without there being 0 impact on your relationship.

Fourth, the more you get to know your spirits and your life is influenced by them, the more and more their real words will match your expectations. "Isn't this just what I think" fails to be a reasonable standard of discernment when you and your spirits are good friends who influence each other's lives and often share opinions and ideas. People often attract spirits with which they are compatible, thinking similarly to them isn't a red flag.

The solution, IMO, is to reframe spirit contact from "everything is false until I can prove it to be true" to "I choose to accept in good faith that it happened, and I'll wait to see if this pans out or not."

Ask yourself what the worst case scenario is for having false contact. Judge what you experience when you commune with spirits against reasonable real-world knowledge.

"I thought this was true and it ended up not being true" is not a mark of shame. It is a mark of someone ready to stop shredding patches, and instead start sewing quilts.

Your trusted spirits are assuring you that you can fly, that you can read minds, and that the police secretly work for you? It's safe for anyone to assume that they are not having legitimate contact.

Your trusted spirits are suggesting that an unusual spell ingredient would be helpful, that a line of study you've always been interested in would be fruitful, or that a strange ritual you've never heard of would be impactful? Well, what's the problem in just assuming these things are true, and going forward with them?

Just because spirits tell you true information through legitimate contact doesn't mean you have to do what they say. The part where you use discernment to decide how to integrate or adopt information into your life never ends. Therefore in many cases, it is beneficial to take a stance of good faith and trust, especially self-trust, in cases of spirit contact. Then, apply common sense and make your own choices about what to do.

Discernment is not best used as a stress test. Especially if you are testing a year-old sapling instead of a weathered oak. Trust and good faith are necessary nourishment; you cannot prune every time you sit under the tree. There would be no tree left. How would you know what to prune, if you never let it grow out enough to see which parts hinder growth?

I think if you took this approach, you may also find it makes spirit relationships less strained. At least, this was true of me. The spirits need space to take root in your life without hitting bedrock every time they try to speak.

Trust yourself to know what to do with information presented to you, whether it ends up being from true or false contact. Only then I think can you easily walk that trail long enough to figure it out. Guessing at the journey from the trailhead rarely yields fruitful results.

Try Consorting with Spirits by Jason Miller, it addresses my second point much more thoroughly, and I think the content in general might be very helpful to you.

[dungeonmalcontent]

So, I'm looking to migrate from 5e to Daggerheart. I'm not gonna rant about which is better if either, but I know I'm disaffected by the OGL screw up and the implementation of 5e'24. I'm ready to move on from 5e, even though I have a lot of homebrew ideas for it burning through my skull.

I like DH so far, it feels like a fun and interesting system and it's got the social momentum that I can actually rope a group in on a game.

This next part is sort of a rant though.

However, I will say that DH does not have the tools available for virtual play. In order to run Daggerheart seamlessly on a VTT (any vtt) you tend to want three things: 1) virtual character sheet, 2) virtual minis, and 3) virtual dice rolling. And these resources are just not available.

For the character sheets, you can do pdfs, and that works fine... if you can manage to figure out how to make a modifiable character sheet pdf that saves information between uses. You might also know about Demiplane Nexus, which has a sort of DNDBeyond thing going, they make character sheets and have player integration for a lot of TTRPGs. Except their website (and it is just the web app, no mobile compatibility so far as I can find), insofar as the DH character creator and other utilities, is very badly laid out. They don't have good economy of space and the page just feels bad to look at. But, hey, at least you can make a character... right? Kind of. If you aren't paying for anything extra, they don't provide support for about half of the character classes. You can't even select them. Same for the sub-classes too. And it's not a matter of whether they're in the SRD or not. They're arbitrarily restricting content. But, hey, if you actually buy the book through them you get access to all the content, that way if you wanted to run a group with the game, you could share the content and you could all use the Demiplane. Except no. You also have to pay a subscription fee to share the content you've purchased.

So what about virtual minis? Are there any VTTs that support Daggerheart? There are a few that claim you can use them for DH, but I can't verify all of them. FoundryVTT says it can, and seems to be quite popular, but it isn't free and I can't find a way to just test it in the demo they provide. Then there's roll20, which I've used a lot for games, but their only support for Daggerheart is done through Demiplane. You can still do minis generally on roll20, because you can do minis generally with pretty much any VTT, but roll20 is at a serious disadvantage by only having support through Demiplane (and I'll give more reasons later). And there are others, but they only offer basic token manipulation and no systems.

And then there's dice rolling. And I'm just going to drop the formalities and pretense here. There's absolutely no virtual dice roller that handles duality. Except, technically, Demiplane does handle dice. Kind of. Demiplane rolls dice the same way that Roll20 rolls dice (there's probably more than just export integration going on there, they're partnered to some degree probably). But it's probably the closest you can get to a system that actually rolls duality. The readouts for these virtual dice rolls on both Demiplane and Roll20 (because the integration results in the same product) look like this:

And, now, maybe you can tell me what's wrong with this readouts. If not, I will preface this by saying that what we are seeing is progress. You can see that it rolled 2d12, labeled them correctly as hope and fear, and shows the bonus applied to the roll. And if you can't figure out the problem, I'll show you another readout, this time with advantage.

If you still haven't figured it out, its the total. Using the duality system, you roll 2d12, one of which is the fear dice and one of which is the hope dice. You use the higher of the two, granting you a hope point if the hope dice is used, or granting the GM a fear point is the fear dice is used. If you have advantage, you roll a d6 and add the result to your roll, or you reduce your roll by 1d6 if you have disadvantage. And then you add the modifier for the action you are taking (+2 in the case of this attack roll). But what the readout is doing is essentially /roll 2d12+1d6+2 (as you might do on Roll20) and then adding extra graphical elements. And this isn't the worst thing in the world, but it can and will likely confuse a lot of people that aren't paying close attention. And apart from this, there are other badly implemented elements. The reroll option literally just returns the same result you just got. So if you think that, for whatever reason, a roll needs to be done again because the result doesn't fit, you're out of luck because you'll just get the same result. The dice roller also lets you add more than one disadvantage or advantage, it also lets you roll with both advantage and disadvantage (all things which the rules specify aren't possible). So, it's a start, but it's also real dumb.

So what's my takeaway here? Use paper sheets and physical dice, even if you're going to use a VTT for character tokens and such. It'll work. But it isn't ideal. There aren't any digital resources built for Daggerheart. And it could really use them.

[felassan]

Cliff notes from the latest blogpost:

BioWare created a dedicated team to focus on PC & the PC experience

PC made up 40% of their platform testing effort

They did 200,000+ hours of performance and compatibility testing

They did almost 10,000 hours of user research testing to ensure good controls and UI for both KBM and controllers

Native support for PS5 DualSense controllers with haptics support (along with Xbox & KBM)

Seamlessly transition between controllers and KBM in gameplay or menus

Customize class-specific keybinds

Full HDR support at launch

Full support for 21:9 Ultrawide monitors

Disabling the Cinematic Aspect Ratio option removes the enforced black bars so cinematics aren't affected

Adjust FOV with FOV slider

Uncapped framerate option

Most changes to graphics & display settings are reflected in real time

The cutout in UI allows you to see the effects of settings changes

DA:TV is Steam Native

DA:TV is Steam Deck Verified

Support for Cloud Save on Steam

Switch seamlessly between PC & Steamdeck

Remote Play (for TV) enabled. To utilize it EA account linking is optional

Support for suite of Ray Tracing features

"Ultra RT" mode for very high end PCs

Several types of upscaling available: NVIDIA DLSS 3, FSR 2.2, and XeSS

FSR 2.2 has been heavily modified specifically for DA:TV

DLSS3 with frame generation supported

NVIDIA Reflex supported

PC specs and details summary

More info on PC features to come

More info on combat, companions, explorations and more also to come

[source]