#when programming is trying to override learned experience

[0rb0t]

brain dysphoria

[thisisyourauthorspeaking]

Would like to resolve a debate with a roommate :)

How likely is it that a random person with no previous flight experience could land a plane in the event the pilot became incapacitated?

How about a 747 vs a small aircraft? (Since commercial airliners now have so much automation and can practically land themselves)

What about a 747 if autopilot stopped working? How likely could someone with good hand eye coordination (and can drive a car well) land the plane by manual control only?

Say you took control and attempted to land, hit the runway odd and broke the landing gear, causing the plane fuselage to hit the ground and slide to a stop. Are planes resilient enough that everyone would still be alive? What are the chances of casualties in this case (and at what speed thresholds)?

If you've played Battlefield or such games, how close are the flight controls there to flight simulators or actual flight? Video games are obviously designed for player experience and realism, but if you are used to those controls, would you have ingrained bad habits trying to learn to fly an actual plane?

And finally, according to my roommate (who has no flight experience whatsoever but provides me infinite entertainment with claims that he can fly a plane): "when you land, you can't shallowly glide into the runway for a landing because you'll lose too much airspeed. You need to approach, take a sharp dive, and then level out before you land". Please rate that statement on a scale of 0 to flaming make-shit-up.

Thank you very much!

Alright, I'll break this answer into a few sections:

(Full disclosure, I don't fly airliners, but I am still certified as a commercial pilot and am drawing conclusions from my professional knowledge.)

Layperson saving the day by landing the plane:

In an airliner? Not a chance in hell. While there is an element of truth to the belief that an airliner can "land itself", the process to set it up is highly complex, and one wrong step can screw the rest of it up.

First, you need to get into the cockpit. For the sake of this ask, let's say the flight attendant knows about some super-duper-secret-hypothetical override to open the door from the outside. Otherwise, this plan is dead in the water.

With autopilot

Misconception number one: Autopilot flies the plane for you.

Autopilot doesn't know your intentions. Autopilot has no self-preservation instincts. The only thing autopilot knows is the course that the person at the controls programmed in, qualified or not.

Autopilot will keep you on course, but it's the pilot's job to make sure that the course being set doesn't send the plane into the side of a mountain, or in the completely wrong direction.

There is a sliver of truth to the idea that an airplane will "land itself", but in order to set it up, it requires a few steps from a qualified pilot that knows what they're doing.

Now, in order for autoland to even work, it has to be paired with a set of antennas on the ground at the desired airport, called an Instrument Landing System, or ILS for short. In order for the autoland system to receive the signal from the ILS, the pilot must tune the navigation radios to the frequency published on a map that looks like this, in addition to setting courses and programming the navigation computer.

Needless to say, if you're not trained to read these, then you'll have a hell of a time setting up the approach.

Additionally, you need to then configure the autopilot to pair with the ILS.

Here's an exercise for you and your roommate: without looking it up, find the radio panel and autopilot control in the cockpit of this Airbus A320, one of the most common airliners today:

Let's say you do find it - what buttons do you push, in what order? Do one of them wrong, and it won't work.

Misconception number two: Air traffic control can help you fly the plane.

ATCs are not pilots, and they can't tell you how to set it up or what buttons to push. All they can do is tell you where you are, give you headings to fly, and give you landing priority due to your emergency.

How do you configure the airplane? How and when do you extend flaps? What's the maximum safe flap extension speed? How and when do you extend the landing gear? What's the maximum safe gear extension speed? Autopilot won't do that for you.

TL;DR: Sure, the plane could land itself, but that requires a series of inputs that a layperson is highly unlikely to know how to do.

Without autopilot

Let's say you accidentally push the wrong button on the stick while trying to declare an emergency. Congratulations! You are now flying the plane manually!

Now it's up to you to manage airspeed, power setting, altitude, pitch attitude, vertical speed, heading, and course.

ATC can still give you headings to point the nose in, and they may even get you lined up with a runway, but it's up to you to slow down to a safe speed, and configure the plane for landing.

Misconception number three: you can slow an airplane down just by pulling the throttle back.

Step one of slowing down is to reduce engine power. But, if that's all you do, then the airplane will keep the speed it's trimmed for, and just nose down to maintain it. The second piece of this puzzle is to pull back on the stick, just enough to maintain altitude.

But, there's a catch: At slow enough airspeeds, you enter what's called the "region of reverse command", wherein the controls seem "backwards" - you're adjusting your pitch (angle of nose up/down) to manage your airspeed, and you're adjusting your power to manage your altitude. This is highly counterintuitive to someone with no training, and when done incorrectly, can cause the airplane to stall and dramatically nose down.

Echoing above: How do you configure the airplane? How and when do you extend flaps? What's the maximum safe flap extension speed? How and when do you extend the landing gear? What's the maximum safe gear extension speed?

If you extend those at the wrong time, then they'll do far more harm than good.

If you're too fast on final approach, you'll sail right past the runway and end up crashing into whatever's behind it.

If you're too slow on final approach, you'll stall before you reach the runway and crash into the ground.

TL;DR: Hand-flying to a safe landing is a skill that needs to be honed and practiced regularly, and a layperson would not be able to do it without help.

Small plane

There is only one one case I know of in which a layperson managed to land a small plane, but this was only possible because of a few factors:

It was a clear day, and the man was able to navigate by landmarks on the ground.

There was no door between the man and the cockpit.

It was a small plane with simple controls.

Air traffic control knew a pilot, and relayed that number to the man in the plane.

IMPORTANT NOTE: Like I said above, air traffic controllers are not pilots. Additionally, there is no "hotline" that passengers can call to get talked down to a safe landing. This was just an extremely lucky "I know a guy" situation.

TL;DR: It can only happen if everything goes perfectly.

Gear-up landing

Let's say that somehow, your roommate managed to get the airplane to the runway with everything going exactly to plan, and with no help. But, oh no! The landing gear is broken!

No biggie. Gear-up landings happen all the time, and they're perfectly survivable. I actually know someone who was in one (in a small plane), and the biggest thing was how embarrassed he was. In the case of an airliner, the primary threat is getting everyone off the plane due to the possibility of a fuel leak.

Video games/flight sims

Games like Battlefield or Ace Combat are not at all accurate to the real handling of an airplane, and have no value as a training tool. However, they're inaccurate enough that the skills don't translate over, and you don't really get any bad habits from playing them.

What really trips people up when learning to fly are games like MSFS or X-Plane, because they're just realistic enough to mimic how planes actually fly, but the way that they're presented and controlled can teach tons of bad habits, such as:

Focusing too much on the instrument panel, and not looking outside at the horizon

Not using rudder or trim (important for smooth, coordinated flight)

Not preparing them for emergencies (ever notice how just about every MSFS flight has clear skies and perfect visibility?)

Exacerbating the dunning-kruger effect by presenting the games as hyper-realistic and good for training, when that is not the case

Because most MSFS players are attracted to the airliners, there is the chance that what they're "learning" about flying is not applicable to the fundamentals, which have to be done in a small plane.

Because of this, I actually discourage students from using home flight simulators to practice maneuvers, because not only are they not getting an accurate feel for the airplane, but they also may be doing the maneuver incorrectly and letting it go unchecked.

Simulators which are used specifically for flight training have to meet a specific set of regulations, one of which is to have an "instructor station" where the instructor can monitor the student's performance, and also practice scenarios that the student themselves cannot predict.

Landing flare

Your roommate's explanation is mostly incorrect.

When an airplane is on final approach, it is approaching the beginning of the runway at an angle of approximately 3 degrees, and following a system of lights called a VASI (visual approach slope indicator) to keep it on this 3 degree glide slope.

So, it is a rather shallow angle. Once the airplane has followed the glide slope and is now a few feet above the runway, the pilot executes a maneuver called a "flare" in which they pull the nose up in order to bleed off the rest of their speed.

When the pilot flares for landing, the airplane was already at a nice, slow speed for landing. If the pilot attempts to keep their speed up, then it will take much longer for the flare to bleed off their airspeed and make the airplane touch down gently.

If the flare is too aggressive, the airplane will "balloon" and fly higher above the runway, at which point the solution is to apply full power, circle around, and try again.

If your roommate were to "take a sharp dive, and then level out before you land", then they run the risk of either a) ballooning, or, because they gained so much speed from that dive, b) floating too far down the runway and potentially not having enough room to touch down and stop. if they really fuck it up, then they'll land nose-gear first, possibly damaging the wheel or even losing control and veering off the runway.

My overall opinion of your roommate:

From what you've said, they do seem to have a genuine interest in aviation, but they're misinformed by pop culture, aviation influencers, and MSFS.

My suggestion to the roomie: Their homework from this Tumblr flight instructor is to find a nearby flight school, and ask if they do discovery flights. You'll get to actually fly the plane, and you may catch the same aviation bug that I caught. We could always use more pilots!

[no1ryomafan]

Of all my talk of robot concepts I forgot if I ever went in depth about my love for the idea of robots with religious/spiritual imagery attachment to them, or more specifically the concept of a robot meditating.

In general I have a bit of a meditation bias-despite not doing it enough even though I should since mental health benefits-I really like it in concepts of characters finding their peace and balance but I feel like it’s a untouched area when it comes to robots. While robots experiencing painful emotions humans face is strong characterization of them being human, I feel it be interesting to look at them in the light of them gaining their own inner peace. To try to learn to even out and control their emotions instead of their programs being override by one or them lacking any at all. They get to experience a true feeling of calm, and not just being “emotionless”. And also, what their meditation feels like in comparison to humans. If they mimic human techniques even if it raises questions of “do robots breathe?” or have to do it in some other fashion to truly achieve an empty mind. If they manage to fully mimic human meditation, what does that raise for humanity and robots blurring on a mental level? And if they do it in their own way, is it just data being flushed out? Like a computer removing unnecessary programs or closing all its tabs but still running?

I rotate this so much and I’m going to continually rotate it probably lol.

[radical-sainthood]

Quite alright, I was busy yesterday myself. And by busy I mean prancing about in ears and a tail because it was Halloween and I could. I probably won't be able to do that until the convention this January so I had to! Also watching all the analog horror content that dropped yesterday. There's... still so much to go through.

Well, anyway! Best I have at the moment to help is reinforcing that I also don't think anything is wrong with his body, no matter what it was made or used for in the past. (Same for yall collectively ofc.) You may relay that message if you wish/are able too. He doesn't need to talk to me if he doesn't want, either. Just. Throwing it out there.

I personally still need to get better at the caring act. I do genuinly want to help others, but irl I can come off as real deadpan and thats... not the most comforting. Thats why I find it easier to type, especially with tone tags, so I can convey what I actually want to. I do experience emotions myself, but it's very hard to convey them outwardly in a phsyical sense at times. With writing, there's so much more to make it more clear. Punctuation, tone tags, emojis, you get it.

And!!!! Augh I'm glad you liked reading it and hearing about all that. Like I said, I've never gone that in depth before so I was nervous. But yea!! Learning and trying to heal together, and mutually being beneficial for each others complexes (I don't think his god complex is undo-able, but thats okay since you can have one and still be happy and functional, so Im not entirely concerned about it staying.) Honestly, its funny in a way. He and I are very different from eachother, and yet here we are. I especially thought he'd permanently hate me, given I'm a mad scientist of sorts, but!!! No!!! And I just fgdksafhcvhdfksagfdhfbcdhfg. Weh. >_<

Anyway, I will now be shifting into somewhat heavier topics. (programming again.) If you're not in a mind to read it: SKIP THE RED TEXT. (No hard feelings if you're not, its less questions this time and more of an update on my discoveries, partially submitted as well for the other anons going through similar.)

So, I've discovered that I can use the annoying dizziness as a bit of a geiger counter for answers in some cases. For example: wondering if we're only one part of the system, or maybe a subsystem dedicated to the front = get dizzy, meaning I shouldn't think about that, meaning there likley is or was meant to be and I'm not supposed to be able to think about it, but since nothing was ever completed I can override that failsafe. Or: Thinking about different programs and how they could be used on others = no dizzy, meaning I was potentially meant to be a handler as well as a general servator (current descriptor Im using.) Those are just some examples, but it's been helpful and maybe others can use this method. (PLEASE BE CAREFUL, YOU MAY TRIGGER DANGEROUS FAILSAFES.)

I've also figured out more things about sleep: We stopped taking naps when the body was one year old, which is... not normal for humans. We regained the ability to do so around age twenty, but not without feeling guilty if I haven't "Done Enough" first. So it would seem those are used as some form of reward system.

End of red text.

I also feel like this is writting letters to a friend kinda!!! Your letter did find us well, and I hope mine finds you the same.

-🦌👁

Good evening watching deer anon. Your letter found us quite well, it is always a joyous day when a friend hears word from another!

Now, I cannot speak on what you and Cas have discussed in regards to your partner and your relationship, but I nevertheless assure you that we found it very endearing.

As for Kevin/The Deep. I will pass on the sentiment, it will mean a great deal to him and us.

As for what is in the red text. Let me say that your gieger counter is likely very accurate. I have been a member of this system for nearly 15 years, and I can personally tell you that I have installed similar fail safes into our system. Any time the beloved members of this system get too close to information I prefer left better alone it triggers an intense dizziness, followed by nausea followed by disassociation. And if that isn't enough, a seizure.

I recommend treading carefully in these areas, as you may never know what sort of symptoms your body is capable of triggering.

I'm sure you would have made an astute handler, and I hope, if that is ever your interest you are able to be one. You'd be surprised what it takes to break the human mind.

And absolutely you can be completely functional with many complexes. The ears and tail sounds nice, I'm glad you got a moment of authenticity in a world meant to choke those who are of a unusual breed.

All the best, your friends at the Liminal Churchyard

[vael]

Minimum Knowledge Required to Use GAM3

Someone who I have some faith in recently asked about using GAM3, Tinydark's proprietary game engine, to make a game similar to Marosia with elements of Flight Rising. I'm still in stealth mode but I thought I'd offer a license, and endeavor to get them an installation running some time in December.

GAM3 is a no-code piece of software. The pitch for GAM3 is the same it was in 2013: you shouldn't need to be a programmer to make a game. Eleven years later(!), that has never been more true. But in order to achieve the flexibility required to build complex games, I have had to make features which closely resemble programming.

Here's a screenshot from the most complex thing GAM3's ever made, URPG's battle system. This is the skill Mighty Leap and what follows after this event is played, is a ton of logic smartly injected (and cached) to account for all the features that URPG's alpha combat requires.

Most events aren't nearly this complex, but if you look closely you'll see a lotta code-lookin' things. This isn't a tutorial -- that will come in 2025 -- so I'll leave it at that and proceed with detailing the minimum knowledge you'll need for a comfortable GAM3 development experience.

Programming 101

You should understand the concept of variables, conditionals such as if statements, and how to use functions. Any functions available to PHP are available to use, but there are restrictions on any functions that could be security issues.

In this (nonsensical) example, we say: if the player chose choice #2, set the variable [$foo] to the number of swords they have * 2. Next, we increase their dexterity by whatever that amount: if they have 3 swords, +6 dexterity xp.

Understand web technology: here's a cute explainer I generated with ChatGPT which analogizes web development to building a house.

Styling With CSS

Websites are styled with CSS. Each game has its own stylesheet for overrides. We're still working on making everything perfectly flexible, but you're able to customize/override anything with CSS and most colors are based in configurable variables. Right-click on anything in the game and select Inspect Element to try changing a few properties and see what happens. :}

The layout itself is configurable through CSS grid. That's a big topic, but chances are you'll be able to figure out how to move things around easily.

Regardless, rest assured Tinydark is here for a minimal (or perhaps more) level of support should you need some styling help.

Game Design

Gasp! Yes. Game design is a real discipline. Here are a few resources I recommend.

Game Design Vocabulary -- I never got to read Naomi's part, but it's a good primer.

Extra Credits -- I was thrown for a loop when I tried to find the link to EC and it turns out they rebranded the channel as Extra History. You'll have to scroll down to find the Extra Credits episodes. They were formative for me as a younger designer.

Lost Garden -- A great general resource; Dan Cook is a brilliant designer and I have a lot of respect for him and Spry Fox. I recommend looking through his posts to find any that catch your eye.

Otherwise, it's hard to say what got me to the point of confidence I have now. I've failed a lot. I've read a lot of post-mortems. I've written a lot. I'm happy to provide feedback and guidance on the design of your game as well as talk about GAM3's strengths and weaknesses.

Finally, you'll really want to learn how to write a Game Design Doc. It is absolutely critical that you get your thoughts all out on paper and get settled on design pillars, as well as how to pivot out of them and determine the risks for your game/design.

[steamishot]

summertime

on july 10, i had an “interview” with my director about the new position. i was worried and wasn’t sure if i needed to prep as if it were a real interview. however, it was mainly him talking and explaining the scope and need of the job. he mentioned there were 90 applicants and that he’ll need to interview one additional person for formality, but implied that the ball is in my court. 

on july 11, we flew out to LAX. arrowhead regional center provided matt a flight, two nights hotel at the hilton doubletree in san bernandino, and a rental car. we also kept our food expenses separate so that he can comp his. LAX national rental was by far the most seamless car rental experience we’ve ever had. we literally just chose a car ourselves and left (they checked for ID at the exit). had dinner at a korean place in gardena and drove 1.5 hours to the IE. 

i automatically felt more relaxed/less tense being in california. the openness, the larger spaces, the nature, the hot/sunny weather were so nice to take in. everything is much more segregated in LA, so if we walk into a korean restaurant, most of the patrons are asian, and i feel transported to asia. whereas in nyc, the population at ethnic restaurants can be extremely mixed. you’d get all colors of the rainbow. 

on this trip, i learned about why i’ve been feeling that matt and i are on different timelines on moving back to california. i learned that he subconsciously associates california/riverside with failure (failure of not matching into residency for two years, not progressing in his career) and the subsequent pressure from his mom, and he associates nyc with success (he accelerated in his residency program, and landed his first big boy attending job here at a prestigious hospital). from my worry trick book, i learned that if we had bad memories associated with something, our amygdala remembers that. the only way to override associating X with bad memories, is to create new memories with X! basically this ties into the counterintuitive idea, of do more of what may cause fear (within reason). 

on july 13, i had my 3rd therapy session. i was overall pretty content that day and i mostly had good news to share with my therapist. we talked about being in california and getting to visit family, my promotion, me going out of the apartment more in NYC and enjoying it, talks between matt and i about upgrading to a one-bedroom apartment (joel legit laughed for 2 minutes when i said we wanted to upgrade from a 500 sq ft to a 700 sq ft place, as he’s in florida). my session ended 10 min short that day, which was understandable because i didn’t have that much to talk about, but i felt bad that i didn’t “milk” the whole 50 minutes as i’m paying a bit over $50/session. as the subscription is pay by month, my current plan is to see joel weekly until the end of august and then cancel my membership. 

update: the apartment we were looking into possibly upgrading to disappeared. we were almost ready to pay an extra $1,100/mo (impulsively). after more careful thinking, we’re both letting the idea go and will make the most of our covid-rate apartment. the extra funds we’re “saving” means more towards health and wellness, food, and plane tickets of course.

bulletpoints of LA

stereoscope’s matcha is one of the best (though i think they sadly changed their menu on my last day in town)

went to baar baar fancy indian food double date with T & M, then to check out the lotus festival (indonesian themed this year)

got 50% off uber eats groceries from erewhon, so got to try 4 juices. also went to the store in person to check out all the tik tok bashing/hype and got $8 for returning all 4 bottles. it’s like a step above whole foods but overall a pretty normal/good grocery store that social media exaggerated.

took my dad to lawry’s for a belated birthday dinner. it was just our immediate family because my SIL & baby were in SF. my parents were very happy to have eaten at beverly hills, and it was all our first times dining there. the food was ok because it didn’t fit our palates

matt’s interview went fine - i think most importantly, he got to meet other doctors who have been in the field for longer. one of the doctors commutes from santa monica to IE every day on his week on. with more interviews, he’s learning more about what to look for and what he wants

our family friend who is a family doctor in his 50s wanted to meet with both my brother and matt, so we all had coffee in pasadena. this family doctor has opened a clinic in chinatown, and will be opening another in 626 area next month. it seemed he wanted to recruit matt, and possibly work with my brother on a coffee business. i felt we were very green next to him. he’s single and without a family, and it seems his free time is used towards big brain thinking of how to make/invest (even more) money. for example, he’s partnering up with some guys in arizona with the idea of franchising a taco store. the main takeaway i had from this meeting were tricks on lowering taxes for a physician/physician family lol

matt and i attended a hot yoga class in echo park. it was already like 90-95 degrees out at 2pm, and the room was even warmer. LA felt so much more natural and less synthetic, and people can tolerate the heat much better. matt died in this class lol and could not follow the movements after 15 minutes because it was too hot

i took my mom and grandma on quite a few adventures: mission impossible at the americana AMC using tmobile tuesday $5 tickets, in n out, hot pot, grocery shopping, tmobile store to get free tote bags. seems like a small gesture but my mom and grandma really enjoyed the movie going experience, and they said it was their first time sitting on recliner seats

saw stephanie quickly for coffee! seems like my LA friends are all growing up and trying to hustle. 

made an appointment to get a pap smear, finally. and will get an ultrasound for the area where i previously had surgery (as i’ve been having some discomfort) just to have peace of mind.

did a 3 mile evening hike and chinese dinner with matt’s family 

i love how i can line dry my clothes and air dry my hair (very quickly) in sunny LA

my director emailed me on july 17 and asked what i thought about a 15% increase. this will still have to go through comp to get approved. i have never negotiated within my current HR team. with them being so flexible with my remote work/out of state situation, i decided asking for 20% might come off too greedy, so i asked for 18%. it’s only a couple thousand difference, but it all adds up! regardless, i would be content with 15% and appreciative of the opportunity.

[skaruresonic]

Aw, thanks <3

tfw Lanolin starts sounding like OaS!Eggman and people praise her for being a "refreshing" character. guys. guys OaS!Eggman is the villain here. guys.

The point OaS is trying to make is that even though Sonic technically could mess with your game, he doesn't, unlike Eggman, because of the superpowah of friendship.

Sonic maintains a stalwart faith in your willingness to do right by him and his friends, even if you make the worst choices available, if only for pragmatism's sake. The alternative is surrendering all control to Eggman and being stuck in limbo, with no game to play.

When it looks like you've learned too much, making you a lost cause in his eyes, Eggman even attempts to make Sonic give up control by appealing to his love of freedom.

Fuck dem kids the player, Sonic. Don't you tire of running through these hamster wheels for them?

While the ploy obviously fails, it does go to show that he's pulling out all the stops to manipulate those around him. OaS requires you, the player, to complete the picture. It's centered around the idea that both Sonic and Eggman are aware of you and your role; how do they react to such knowledge?

Eggman obviously resents it, and will lie, trick, threaten, and swindle his way into making you surrender control. Sonic, on the other hand, may not always know your intentions, but has faith that you'll do what you think is right in the end. (Neither can die permanently without irreversibly breaking the game. Both are needed.) I guess the premise is also based on two things Sonic says: "I'll never betray you" and "Nothing starts until you take action." You could do the most awful shit to hurt him and his friends for your sadistic whims, and he'll still believe in you. Not in an "uwu all people are intrinsically good" kind of way, but in a "you have the ability to do the right thing, so do it" kind of way.

Whether his mindset stems from genuine friendship or foolish naivete is left for you to decide. Regardless, Sonic really does want to give you the best and most coherent game experience possible, even if you don't care and only consider him a toy to bend and break as you please.

He threatens to roll back your save after Amy's bad choice, but that's just it: he doesn't unless Eggman's interference threatens the world. He can't override your agency until you basically say "Help me, Sonic" or "I'm sorry, Sonic" through your choices.

Eggman's claims cast doubt on the notion that Sonic's friendship means anything when he's "programmed to carry you to the so-called 'good ending' no matter what you do."

I wanted his views to reflect those of players who consider Sonic a mere vehicle to get you from Point A to Point B. In fact, the entire concept was inspired by a forum post that described Modern Sonic as exactly that. That's why Eggman begins to dehumanize Sonic, calling him "it." Both have the ability to mess with your game if they wanted to. Sonic admits that he can save things to his memory just like Eggman, speculating that "maybe Sega didn't want to put all of their eggs in one basket."

The difference is that, while Eggman sabotages the game in order to grab your attention and relent control to him, Sonic does not take direct control unless shit hits the fan and the game is in danger of collapse (or, in other words, "the world is about to end"). In that sense, he fulfills his role of "hero." However, neither can really do much until you step in.

This may be His World, but you play a critical role in shaping it.

I… wouldn't know how you'd convey all that in a medium without some measure of interactivity, but the way these guys keep writing the concept - which is itself predicated on the erroneous assumption that Sonic makes a choice to "let Eggman go" - strikes me as cynical and even meanspirited. It almost seems like they're trying to say that unless Sonic assumes the role of Hedgehog Jesus and fixes all the world's ills, he's worthless as a hero.

"It's like this world exists- no. Was designed to be your playground"

"He could end it all if he wanted"

These people took the lyrics to his world way too literally. Lanolin is talking about Sonic like he's a reality warping god who's forcing all existence to do an endless dance. Why can't we just have a comic where Sonic and his friends run around through weird environments while thrashing robots? How does anyone enjoy the soap opera trite that idw dishes out?

You know, I don't wanna be That Guy

but

On A Sunday already did that whole thing. Where the entire setting and everyone in it is substantiated around Sonic(and Eggman)'s existence.

and it was way better about it

just saying

[somedayonbroadway]

wait i’d really kill to hear the lab rats au

Lab rats AU! Yes! You got it!

I started rewatching the show, I haven’t finished it again yet but I love the storyline behind the show.

So, for this let’s go over the characters for this.

Jack Kelly — Adam Davenport

Racetrack Higgins — Bree/Chase Davenport

David Jacobs — Leo Dooly

Bryan Denton — Donald Davenport

Oscar Delancey — Marcus

William Snyder — Douglas Dooly

This is going to be pretty different from the show. There’s only two bionic kids in the family. Jack and Race. Jack is the older of the two. Three years older than Race. They were experimented on as children and bionic chips were placed in their neck, giving them superhuman powers. Jack has super strength and laser vision. He can produce pulse grenades from his fists and he has a glitch. When he gets too scared, his bionic chip overrides his human emotions and rational thinking and makes him into a destructive weapon who will eliminate whoever he sees as an enemy. This especially happens when Jack believes Race is in danger. As time goes on, it is revealed that Jack was first programmed to be very persuasive and able to gain control over people. He has the ability to mesmerize people by singing to them and he can also breathe underwater. When Race finds this out, he compares Jack to a siren.

Race, on the other hand, was given super speed and superhuman intelligence. He is the smartest and fastest man alive, even though he’s still just a kid. He’s much squirmier than Jack when it comes to violence even though he’s a very good fighter and enjoys sparring and wrestling with Jack when he’s not using his super strength. He has extremely sensitive senses which make him susceptible to loud noises, especially. Race can create force fields to protect himself and those around him or he can use them as weapons to throw. He has telekinesis and sometimes longs to be normal even though he gets really excited about his newfound abilities sometimes. He glitches when he’s nervous or overwhelmed and his bionics shut down, paralyzing him and making him unable to move his limbs for a period of time. He has the ability to mimic voices and he can turn himself invisible eventually.

Bryan Denton is a genius, billionaire inventor who is the guardian of Jack and Race, essentially acting as their dad. He hides Jack and Race in secret for nearly twelve years before they are discovered by a new neighbor who hears the two boys in the house and catches them fighting through the window with their bionics. David swears not to tell anyone and Denton let’s it slide because Jack and Race become really good friends with David because David convinces Denton to send them to school to learn how to socialize with people.

During all of this, Denton begins to send Race and Jack out on life threatening missions to help preserve and protect the world and, more intimately, New York. Jack and Race make a good team and Denton teaches them every form of martial arts he can, knowing what their strengths and weaknesses are.

About a year after David becomes involved in the picture, Jack gets kidnapped by a boy at school they’d believed was a friend, a kid named Oscar who is revealed to have beginner level bionics who brings Jack to a man named William Snyder where it is revealed when Race tries to rescue his brother that Snyder is their biological father and is the one who really used them as test subjects and implanted bionics in them. He reveals that Denton is his half brother who Snyder had built a business with and Snyder had plans for controlling the world while Denton wanted to help save it. So Denton kidnapped the kids when they were young and had his brother imprisoned for embezzlement to keep the kids a secret. He raised the kids knowing that if they were found out, they’d be taken to some remote government facility and Denton would be arrested for kidnapping.

When Snyder kidnaps Jack and uses him to lure Race to him as well, he begins to try and brainwash them into forgetting Denton all together and eventually begins to fight against their human emotions.

Denton and David try to rescue them, knowing that the brothers are still only kids and are still learning how to control their powers and they have no idea what they’ll do if they’re turn against each other and then the world.

That’s of course only a snippet of the lives of these bionic super humans.

If you wanna see any scenes from this AU, let me know!

Here are some moodboards for y’all!

Jack Kelly as Adam Davenport

Racetrack Higgins as Bree/Chase Davenport

For more Mood Boards and AUs, click here!

[kingdom-hearts-redux]

About the Nature of Naminé

Kairi didn't (and technically can’t) make a Nobody for a few reasons. Chief among them being because her heart was inside Sora’s body when he used the dark-forged Keyblade at the end of KH1, thus only making one very special Nobody- Roxas. The second reason is because, as the Princess of Heart, she couldn't have created anything either way anyway- Heartless or Nobody- since that requires the heart itself to be overtaken by Darkness. The only exception to this is that so long as the heart stayed afloat, nothing would happen- like a game of keepy-uppy or 'the floor is lava (Darkness)'- but it’s also a game that the Princess of Heart is always guaranteed to win because they're just that pure-hearted (in a Lightful sense).

Therefore, Naminé is not Kairi's Nobody. At least not here.

But, then, who- or what- is Naminé? She still very well appears in the Redux story, though her origin is a more technical one. Putting it bluntly, she was created as an AI program by Vexen as an experiment within the electrical data-world known as the Zettasphere (which replaces everything Tron-related), and put inside a Replica body as part of his Replica project/program to see if and how an AI would fare as a ‘person’ and watching the results in Castle Oblivion, where she was given near-complete control. She can also observe anything, anywhere, at any time as a sort of security camera.

Vexen attuned her abilities to affect a person’s thoughts using a special ‘wave’ emitter that effects a person’s mind and was stationed in Castle Oblivion a while before the other members were sent there as well, mostly because of the confined space the castle provided (her powers work better indoor than outdoor). The only protection against her ability is a small device that’s worn to cancel out Naminé’s ‘waves’. Without it, she could very well make anyone think anything she was programmed to- but only what she was programmed to (Vexen is a man who takes no chances).

Also, having been built as a learning AI, she ends up learning and thinking more than she should’ve while watching the young heroes led inside the castle, which lends to her gaining something of a personality and an increasingly inquisitive sense of what was “right” and “wrong”. However, she also tends to overthink things in this regard; Vexen had made a mental note to not make the same mistake with any further iterations of her design. In fact, part of what replaces Space Paranoids is trying to override Vexen’s programming that prevents Naminé from helping our protagonists.

Yet, unknown to all save for the one who created her, there exists another motive- another thing that she was being tested for...

[houselamentation]

ayla sounds very intriguing on her own~ if she strives to be diplomatic as a result of holding no magical power, then is she an opportunist at heart? does she value the truth even in the face of danger, or would she rather stay quiet if it meant that peace would continue?

i ask this because i wonder if the spell she attempted was an attempt to prove something to everyone, or if she wanted to get to the bottom of something. i'd love to hear more!! :]

I put Ayla firmly in the chaotic neutral camp (along with Solomon tbh). She wants to save the world and change it for the better but she also wants the credit for doing that.

She has always had political ambitions and was discovered as a candidate for the exchange program in the first place because she'd applied to so many human world ones and had experience with Model UN-type work and had proven willing to learn from others and teach them in return. She's altruistic but also a little naive. When she arrives in the Devildom and receives the warning that demons will be constantly trying to harm or take advantage of her, she manipulates Mammon into the pact without fully understanding what it means for either of them but believing it will keep her safe. She does not trust Lucifer and believes Belphegor's claim that he is a human wrongfully imprisoned- even when she finds evidence suggesting otherwise. She visits regularly and falls for him. Even after the truth is out, she continues forging pacts with the brothers, determined to free him and help the family heal. She's not always selfish but can commit blindly and relentlessly to a cause she deems important. (She is aware of the risk when she stands between Lucifer and Beel, defending Luke but she also does not protest when Satan wants to make a pact with her *for the wrong reason.* So... a little of both?

The goal is somewhere between peace and progress- she gets along well with Diavolo, with that in mind and she relishes the idea of being the human who led to the three worlds finding not only harmony but reasonable, more common interactions- like peace talks about what benefits all of them and trading agreements- after all this time. But then we get into the Ring incident. Ayla attempts bigger and grander things with her once dormant abilities and finds these spells effortless because she is pulling magic from the universe itself without giving anything of herself in return. It's partly due to limited training and misunderstanding of the concept but it has terrible ripple effects. She's discovered to be the cause of this destruction around the time she suffers a personal tragedy (her sister escapes a cult around the same time their father dies). Ayla is sent back to the human world in hopes that being around fewer temptations and with less access to dark magic and artefacts, she will heal and remember her goals outside of the power she needs to stop abusing.

She's a very angry, scared, and vulnerable young human when she attempts something truly selfish. It's my head canon that even though Belphegor is free to rejoin the family after the Lesson 16 incident (Ayla was not the victim but she did feel close to him and felt guilty for still being in love with Belphie even after that), there was magic in place to keep Belphegor from leaving the Devildom in a way that even a summoning could not easily override. Ayla attempted it anyway. She caused another earthquake and severely hurt Belphie (as well as Beel, who felt the effects through their telepathic link). It was a desperate moment halfway between the need to prove herself and just wanting to feel loved and safe and as though fixing everything was possible- because she technically did that once by bringing Belphie back to his brothers and helping them reconnect and forgive him in the first place?

The Ring of Light has helped restore her magical and emotional balance. She is healing but that relationship will take much more time and it seems Ayla will always prioritize her ambitions and even her impulses.

[balioc]

Responding to this post, in a format that doesn't stick an enormous text wall on everyone's dashboard.

OK. To start with, this is super important:

“This is what we hold to be important because it’s tradition” is not, and has never been, the traditional outlook. It is, as we say, the traditionalist outlook. Or, if you prefer, the LARPer [derogatory] outlook. It is a bastardized, incoherent justification employed only by alienated midwit theorists who are desperately trying to hold onto something that they've already lost and never properly understood. And if you pretend that it is the animating spirit of conservatism, you will fail to understand actual conservatives, very badly -- both in the sense that you're not engaging with their good theorists who have meaningful things to say, and (even more importantly) in the sense that you won't understand the inchoate forces that are driving the rank and file.

The pious man does not pray to God because it is the way of his ancestors. He prays to God because God is good, because he wishes to be saved, because he is overcome with humility and gratitude in the face of his Maker.

The macho man does not hew to his traditional gender roles because they are traditional, and he values tradition so very much. He hews to his traditional gender roles because he wants to be a real man (and not a faggot), and he has a pretty clear picture in his mind of what that means.

When you say "people should do what is good for them," the conservative replies with: Yes, very true, people should do what is good for them. It is good for people to pray to God. It is good for men to be men and for women to be women. That is what goodness is, and if your measurements say otherwise, then your measuring stick is wrong. And he will probably add: But even if we use your warped atomized liberal measure, and just check whether people are happy and "fulfilled" -- which is, again, not actually the same as goodness -- the results of that measurement will still favor my program. It turns out that chasing after every whim doesn't actually make you happier, not in the long run, and being able to rely on the people around you living up to their proper social roles does make you happier. Your principles have created a world where it's normal for women to be mentally ill and normal for children to want to kill themselves; at what point do you admit failure?

And then you get into an argument over what "goodness" means and how you measure it, and soon enough you find that you have incompatible axioms, hooray.

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

If you give people the freedom to choose --

-- well, the results will depend a lot on where they started. No one exists in a vacuum, and there is no possible choice that is unfettered by the soul-defining pressures of society.

If you give Amish teenagers the freedom to choose their lifestyle, for example, they will overwhelmingly choose an Amish [extremely conservative] lifestyle rather than anything more modern or more liberal. That's exactly what rumspringa is. This is, in part, because rumspringa is kind of a cruel trick; if you take someone from a smotheringly-communitarian milieu and throw him into atomized modernity with no preparation, then surprise! it's likely to go very badly. But it's also because human beings spend their childhood, in large part, learning what they value -- what things like "goodness" and "beauty" and "admirable conduct" mean. If everything you're raised to value is exemplified by an Amish community, then the "English" world isn't going to measure up very well.

[SIDEBAR: Part of the reason that conservatism failed so badly on a cultural front, in the modern Westernized world, is that the mid-20th-century model of self-righteous capitalized conservatism was so corrupt and so hypocritical that it failed to provide good value even by its own standards. If you teach your kids to value being rich, they're going to leave your conservative community behind to pursue economic opportunity. If you teach your kids to care deeply about what the neighbors think, then when the neighbors start to disagree with you, your kids will too. Etc. In fairness to conservative intellectuals, most of them have realized by now how badly their immediate predecessors shit the bed on this front.]

If you start your people off in a liberalized milieu -- which is to say, with enormous freedom of choice, and very little guidance (or pressure) regarding what they should value --

-- then, yes, it's true, conservatism is going to fail super hard in the marketplace of ideas and lifestyles, virtually no one is going to buy what the trads are selling.

But in the long run, even in the medium run, whatever you value is going to fail just as hard.

Because the completely liberalized marketplace-of-ideas-and-lifestyle is an untended garden, an environment that optimizes ruthlessly for the most competitive memes, and nothing else. In the end it will give you heroin and porn and Cookie Clicker and Twitter dogpiles, and nothing else. Heroin and porn and Cookie Clicker and Twitter dogpiles are the things designed to scratch that basal human urge of [gimme stimulus], and nothing grand or glorious or sublime can match them on that front. All the things that lie beyond that, all the "interconnection and new knowledge and new experiences," all the cathedrals and palaces, all the wonders of science, all the works of art and literature that I would consider worth a damn, require

(a) having your values molded past the baseline of the greedy infant -- by community elders, by wise and clever teachers, by some weird book on which you imprinted, by something; and

(b) cultivating the art of letting those molded values override your basal click-the-cookie instincts.

At which point we start talking about how to do this, and also about which values are best, now that we're in the business of trying to shape people's values to begin with. And this is (at the most abstract level) the conversation with which conservatives can, plausibly, engage in a productive fashion.

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

On the object level, I don't think I actually disagree with you, particularly. One of the major problems with conservative ideologies is that their premises make them inflexible; whatever your program is, some portion of the population is going to end up saying "this is really really bad for me," and there are some legitimating myths and moral structures that allow you to work with those people, but "God said so" (etc.) just makes them into implacable enemies. And on an even object-ier level than that, I do in fact care deeply about individual flourishing, and I do think of the individual human mind as the measure of all things, and not having any safety valves for oddballs and deviants is super terrible.

But if you're going to wrestle with powers and principalities, they should be real ones, not shadow puppets.

[thatfanficstuff]

Nightingale’s Song - 11

Pairing: Bucky x Anna (OC)

Warnings: not really

A/N: OMG. A Chapter. OMG. 

***

Anna leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest just watching the others in the room. Stark was apparently on a call with the director of SHIELD trying to get them more information about the Siberian base. She could tell them where it was located but not how to get in or anything of the sort. Stark was hoping for some satellite imagery of the area.

Her gaze fell on the new arrivals huddled in the corner with Steve. When Tony said they needed reinforcements she hadn’t anticipated him calling on actual gods. Okay, so they weren’t really gods, but she’d always been slightly fascinated by Norse mythology. When the brothers were being discussed at Hydra, she’d always assumed Loki and Thor were code names. Her eyes shifted to the woman with them, Loki’s wife Isolde. Their secret weapon. Or so Steve had said though he didn’t explain further.

She straightened as Tony hurried into the room. “JARVIS, pull it up please.”

Everyone moved over to the table as images appeared in the room around them. This was so cool. Steve motioned to the seat next to him and she slid into it, reaching over to grab his hand. She found herself needing to touch him when he was near. Too many years spent apart with nothing but Hydra’s attentions.

Tony somehow moved the images around with nothing other than his hands until he found the one he wanted. He motioned and the image grew larger. “Okay. Thanks to Anna here we know the exact location of the base. After some prodding, Fury gave me access to satellite scans of the area. Nothing popped out at me until this.”

“What is that?” Clint asked.

“It looks like a bunker entrance,” Steve answered as he squeezed Anna’s hand.

“Easy to overlook unless you know it’s there,” Tony agrees with a nod. He shifted his attention to Anna. “What do you know?”

She shook her head once and took a breath. “There are things I know and there are things that I can guess with some degree of accuracy. Unfortunately, it’s not a lot.”

“Anything is better than nothing,” Stark said.

“Bucky is Hydra’s version of Steve, but he’s a weapon. Nothing more. They use him then they freeze him. When they have another task, they wake him. I can’t tell you what his current status is though it wouldn’t surprise me if they’ve thawed him to deal with you lot. You were really starting to get under their skin. If he’s awake there will be fewer soldiers at the facilities. They’ve been stretched kind of thin lately. Also your fault.”

“Nice to know we’re actually having an impact. I was starting to wonder,” Natasha said. The others made noises of agreement.

“He lost his left arm. Whether it happened in the fall or after, I’m not sure. They’ve replaced it with metal. Works just like the real thing only better. I’d avoid getting grabbed by that one if you can. The twins aren’t used much in the field yet. They volunteered for the experiments after their mother was killed in a terrorist attack. They’ll probably release them once we breach the facility. If you encounter the girl, remember everything you see should be called into question. She can manipulate thoughts, memories. Like I said, the soldiers are terrified of her.”

“What do you mean when we breach the facility?” Tony asked. “You aren’t doing anything. We appreciate the information but you’re a nurse.”

Steve sat up and Anna squeezed his hand to stave off his argument. She’d anticipated this.

“I’m the only that’s ever been able to override Bucky’s programming.”

“That may be true. Answer’s still no. We’re already going in mostly blind. The last thing we need is another liability.”

The corner of Anna’s mouth curled in a smile. “After seventy years with Hydra, what makes you think I’ll be a liability?”

Steve tugged on her hand and she glanced over to see him studying her with worried eyes. She shrugged. It didn’t matter. Not really. All that mattered was getting Bucky back.

“She saved my life,” Clint said.

Anna looked over and smiled in thanks. He nodded once in acknowledgment.

Tony sighed, catching her attention. “Fine. The assassins test you. You pass, you can come. Fair?”

“Fair,” she agreed quickly. “You also need to equip non-lethal ordinances that will work on someone with Steve’s metabolism. Bucky and the male twin will both need them. The female should respond to standard tranquilizers.”

“Banner?” Steve asked.

“I’ve got a formula on file. It shouldn’t take me long to mix up.”

“I’ll help,” Tony said. “Assassins, Anna. We’ll head out when everyone’s ready.”

***

Anna trailed behind the Bartons and Natasha as they headed to the training floor. Steve followed along as well. Tony had started to protest but one look from the super soldier shut him up. Both of you were reluctant to separate. The fact you were about to be tested by three assassins probably didn’t help that feeling. He’d always been protective of her anyway.

They stepped into a large room and Anna glanced around. The facilities were top-notch. Not that she’d expected anything less from Stark. “Where do you want to start?” she asked once she finished taking everything in.

The three exchanged a glance and Natasha gestured to the equipment. “Why don’t you give us a demonstration?”

Anna’s lips twitched and she took a stroll around the room as she planned exactly what to show them. There was only so much she could show them using equipment. Finally, she walked over to the climbing rope and tugged on it a couple of times. Someone sighed behind her and she took that as her cue to get started. She made it to the top of the rope in under a minute.

“Christ.” That was the male Barton. The sentiment was echoed by his wife when Anna pulled herself onto the rafters and ran along them with no hesitation. And when she launched herself from them to land at their feet, Steve wasn’t the only one to yell.

There was a moment’s stillness as Anna straightened then Natasha launched into an attack. Anna blocked or dodged every punch and every kick. Picking up on a soft sound behind her, she stepped to the side only for Raven to land where Anna had been standing a moment before. Once it became two against one, more blows found their mark, but Anna remained on her feet much to the aggravation of the women in front of her.

Another whisper of sound had Anna spinning to snatch a practice arrow from the air. Taking advantage of her distraction one of the others brought their heel down on the extended arm. The snap of breaking bone echoed through the room.

Anna flinched but that was the only outward sign of the pain that suddenly flared through her.

“Holy shit. I’m so sorry,” Raven Barton gasped. “Are you alright?” She reached out a hand but didn’t touch in case the assistance would be unwelcome.

Anna smiled. “It’s fine.”

“That is not fine, Anna. Far from it.” Steve scowled at everyone as he stepped forward and lightly supported Anna’s bruised and swollen arm.

“Excuse me a moment,” she said and turned to the others. “Natasha could you do me a favor?”

She arched a brow. “Maybe.” She took a step forward.

“Hold my wrist. Tightly please.”

The assassin frowned but did as Anna asked. Once she was certain Natasha had a firm grip, Anna yanked the arm backward and the bones ground against each other as they slid back into place.

“Agh!” Clint yelled at the sound. “Don’t do that.”

Anna chuckled as she gave Natasha a nod. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” the red-head replied sounding more than a bit concerned.

Anna closed her eyes and breathed as she concentrated on the injury. A moment later the only thing that remained of the injury was a dull ache that would leave soon enough. She stretched and moved the arm around, testing it out. “There. All fixed.”

“Didn’t that hurt at all?” Steve asked.

“Hurt like a bitch.” At his concerned expression, she continued. “You can learn to ignore a lot if you have to, Cap. Trust me.”

[musingsofsaturn]

Just Imzadi Things™

Fandom: Star Trek The Next Generation

Ship: The Enterprise Will Riker/Deanna Troi (no I’m not going to stop making that joke)

Rating: T because adult themes are lightly suggested. There are also mentions of death.

Words: 2,100+

Summary: Five things that become perfectly normal when you share a telepathic bond with someone you’re pretending not to be in love with.

Author’s Note: Okay so I read this post from trekkingamongststars and loved the implications of them anticipating each other’s needs and just... the accidental intimacy of their bond? So I was thinking about all the lovely little ‘I’m in love with you but trying not to be because I value our friendship’ things that probably happened as Deanna and Will reconnected. Anyways I am just so soft for these two so I hope you enjoy this fluffy little collection of Just Imzadi Things™.

~ Saturn

O N E

Betazed was a warm planet. Its climate was almost tropical, and the air was often thick with hot humidity that nurtured the vibrant plants of the gardens and natural spaces of the planet. Deanna loved the sensation of sunshine on her skin, enveloping her in comforting warmth. She’d grown up with it, and a sunny day would always remind her of home.

In contrast, the Enterprise was a decidedly chilly starship. With so many people from all different cultures and climates, she understood that the temperature on board had to suit the average comfort level of the crew, but Deanna still sometimes wished that that average level was just a few degrees higher.

Fortunately, she was able to adjust the temperature in her own quarters. It was kept high, and she loved the flood of warmth that escaped when she opened the door and stepped into her private space, where she was free to suit herself and be properly comfortable.

The first few times she’d been in Will’s quarters, the rooms had been the same temperature as the rest of the ship. And why wouldn’t they be? He was familiar with Alaskan winters. He hardly needed the level of warmth she did in order to be comfortable.

But as she started to visit more often, and as their telepathic connection strengthened, the temperature in his quarters had started to increase over time. She knew why; he’d commented on how warm her rooms were the first time he stepped inside, and had begun to pick up on her mild discomfort at how cold the rest of the ship felt. Whether that was telepathy, or just him reading her body language, she couldn’t be certain.

What she could be certain of though, was that Will was gradually raising the temperature in his quarters, even if she wasn’t there to appreciate it. Over a series of weeks, so he himself could acclimatise to it, he’d successfully adapted his own living space to suit her needs and make her comfortable.

That thought made her feel warmer than any Betazoid sun ever could.

~

T W O

The first time Deanna brought Will some food without asking, he hadn’t even realised that he was hungry.

He’d been writing reports and reviews for an hour that had slipped into two, then four, until he didn’t even recognise that time was passing. The chime of his door pulled his mind away from his work abruptly, and his voice was hoarse from lack of use when he invited the guest inside.

Deanna entered tentatively, carrying a bowl of something that smelled fantastic. “I brought you some soup. You need to eat.”

“That’s very kind but I’m not hung-” The statement was interrupted by a ravenous growl from his stomach as she placed the bowl in front of him on the desk, pushing the PADD to one side as she did. She smiled knowingly at him as he quietly said, “Thank you.” He tucked in.

After that, it became a regular occurence between them.

It wasn’t a conscious thought; they never asked the other to bring them food like a waiter. Sometimes, like the first time, they didn’t anticipate that it was needed at all.

But they could sense the subtle need for sustinence within each other. Will knew exactly when to turn up at her office with a chocolate mousse when she’d had a difficult appointment. Deanna seemed to arrive on the Bridge with perfect timing to deliver a coffee when she could sense his focus wavering. And once, they’d met in the corridor on the way to each other’s quarters, carrying food that they hadn’t wanted to eat alone when they knew the other would benefit from some company.

More than the food, it sustained them both to know that the other was thinking about them. To know that their needs were recognised and that someone cared about relieving them, that was the kind of nourishment that would last a lifetime.

~

T H R E E

Starfleet officers are trained to accept that they and their colleagues are at risk while serving. Everyone aboard the Enterprise has a tale of losing someone in the line of duty, whether they be a friend, family member, or lover.

For more senior officers, they even accept that their decisions and orders could be the reason that someone dies. It is a great burden and responsibility, and it takes its toll more than anyone ever seemed to admit.

In front of others, she accepted his cool and collected demeanour with regards to a recent mission. No one could have anticipated that there was an explosive device from a long-ended war still buried at the entrance to a small cave. And Will never could have predicted that ordering a member of his away team to quickly investigate that cave would have caused an explosion that knocked them to the floor and killed the young ensign instantly.

A young Bajoran, the ensign had only been assigned to the Enterprise that week. She had just begun to form friendships, and had shown that was a friendly and compassionate member of the crew. Will had sensed that, with experience, she would have climbed through the ranks of Starfleet. She had a promising career ahead of her.

Had.

The whole time he was discussing the incident with the captain, he maintained his composure. He filed the necessary reports, wrote a sincere statement to the ensign’s family, and later returned to the surface to continue their investigation of the area. To the outer world, he seemed measured; not uncaring and detached, but not emotional and defeated either. He was the model of a First Officer coping with a hard situation.

Deanna recognised his inner turmoil, however. She could sense his guilt, the feeling that he should have been the one to die, not the one who gave the order that snuffed out the woman’s life when she’d barely had chance to live it. She could tell that he was reeling from the terror of being caught on the outskirts of the blast, and the horror of realising that a member of his team hadn’t survived. There was an aching sadness in him; the knowledge that a loving family was about to learn that their daughter wasn’t coming home weighed heavily in his mind.

Later, when his shift had ended and he finally had a chance to return to his quarters and retreat into his thoughts, he barely got through the door before the weight of the day slumped his shoulders and made his large frame seem to collapse in on itself.

But Deanna was waiting for him. Her inky eyes met his as he started to cry, and he knew that she was the only person in the galaxy who could understand how he felt in that moment.

Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around his body, pressing as much of herself into him as she could. The pressure was good, reassuring, and he returned her embrace with shaking limbs.

His face burrowed into her shoulder as sobs racked through him. She didn’t say a word - there were none that would help anyway. Instead, she continued to hold him close, permitted him to be vulnerable and exposed without any judgement or expectation.

There was nothing she could do to relieve him of his grief, but standing in her embrace, crying like a small child for the first time in years, Will felt the closest thing to peace that he’d experienced that day.

~

F O U R

Deanna awoke with a start.

It wasn’t the first time she had suffered from a nightmare, and it wouldn’t be the last. Gasping for air, she sat up and ran her hands through her hair. The images that had haunted her were already slipping away.

In the dark, she fumbled towards the replicator and quietly got herself a glass of water. Her heart was still racing slightly, adrenaline coursing through her veins, but it had only been a dream and she knew she would be alright.

After finishing her water with slow sips, she went back to bed. She felt calmer, and knew she was tired, and it seemed liked the sensible thing to do. With a few deep breaths, she closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind of thoughts.

Almost an hour later, she was still awake.

She hadn’t been able to get herself comfortable - the material of her pillowcase seemed to scratch at her cheek, it seemed she had one too many limbs to arrange them in a way that suited her, and a sudden leg cramp in her calf had been the final straw.

Deanna didn’t really know why she chose to leave her own quarters, a robe wrapped over her nightgown for propriety’s sake. It was a short walk to Will’s quarters, and it seemed as though no time had passed at all before she arrived at his door.

Hesitating, she almost turned to return to her own rooms. Will was definitely sleeping, and she felt guilty about waking him. Not to mention it seemed so pathetic to go crawling to him because she couldn’t sleep after a bad dream.

However, in the instant that she decided to leave, the door opened for her. She hadn’t pressed to ring for permission, hadn’t overrided any security systems, and there was no way Will had known she was there and just opened the door to let her in and stop her dithering.

No, he had programmed it to open automatically for her, just as it would for him.

Touched at this unexpected display of trust and familiarity, Deanna stepped into his quarters. She made her way to his bedroom, and quietly climbed in to lay beside him.

He didn’t wake up as her arm wrapped over his chest and she snuggled into his back, seeking warmth. Deanna was lulled to sleep at last by his soft breaths, and the knowledge that she was safe and welcome here.

~

F I V E

As the pair of them strengthened their Imzadi bond, it seemed that their feelings throughout the day had become shared.

Will would be sat on the Bridge and feel a sudden rush of satisfaction. He smiled to himself every time he realised where it had come from. He knew that Deanna had had a long day full of appointments with members of the crew, and she had decided to treat herself to a chocolatey dessert. That satisfied burst he felt had been her tasting the first bite of a sundae or piece of cake, perfectly balanced with chocolate, cream, and fudge.

Deanna discovered that watching Will play poker was almost as entertaining as playing herself. When she had folded her hand, and it no longer mattered if she used her empathic abilities, she loved to zone in on Will’s feelings, and he opened his mind to hers when she was no longer playing. In many ways, she became his ‘tell’, as she had to work hard not to grin when she experienced a rush of mischevious energy when he bluffed, which was only amplified when the bluff worked.

Will came to recognise how the people Deanna interacted with could affect her mood. He knew when she was with Beverly, because he could physically feel her mind relaxing over their telepathic link. He also knew when the two were engaging in salacious gossip, as a feeling of giddy curiosity came over her as Beverly disclosed various secrets. The Imzadi bond between Will and Deanna made it so he knew exactly who she liked and disliked, and to what extent. And he once learned just how strong that bond could be when Lwaxana Troi made a comment that was so intensely irritating to Deanna that it made Will’s eyes roll without warning from four miles away.

Deanna learned that she could always get an honest opinion on her outfits, whether Will knew he was sharing it or not. She never minded the flood of attraction that leapt from his mind to hers when he saw her in some of her more flattering dresses. People can’t control their natural impulses of attraction like that, and she had learned not to read into it. However, she knew that Will would be embarrassed if she ever acknowledged his more lustful feelings, so she politely pretended not to pick up on those feelings when they arose.

Will spent years being convinced that he was learning to empathically block his more erotic feelings from reaching her mind. Since she never even flinched when his feelings became far more than friendly when she walked into a room in a certain blue dress, he was certain that he could appreciate her beauty and his own fantasies without it reaching her.

It was only when he arrived at her quarters in a particularly revealing v-neck wrap one evening and she wasn’t quick enough to mask the warmth of attraction that filled her mind (and by extension, his), that he realised just how much their telepathic bond had probably been betraying him all along.

[livelivefastfree]

Love your cyborg!Chuck fic!! Wondering about a thing that didn't get addressed much: Julie obviously knew? the whole time? and Chuck, presumably, also knew about her, and obviously they had a mutual secret-keeping pact...but is Mike ever going to wonder what was up with that? Or are we supposed to assume he's figured out, post-finale, that Julie is Kane's daughter? And any chance of a prologue of Kane presenting Chuck to Julie like (I imagine), "Happy birthday, Julie-bear! Have this cyborg"?

This has been in my inbox since I published my first cyborg Chuck fic ever, so like...(*checks the release date on Override 0*) four years, lord.  And the drabble has been sitting in my documents for almost as long lol.  Hopefully this gives some explanation as to how a valuable cyborg full of experimental KaneCo tech ended up slipping out from under Kane’s nose, lol.

--

"I got you something," says her dad, and Julie thinks--oh, another stuffed kitten plush, maybe, or maybe even another level of security clearance if she's lucky--

She's not lucky.

"Dad," she says, with brittle sweetness, because she really really hopes she's misunderstanding this situation.  “What...exactly...is the present?"

Her dad snaps his fingers.  The boy standing behind him jitters, tries to step forward, almost crumples over, stands again.  He's twitching and shivering like he's got some kind of tic, but his eyes are the part that really freak Julie out.  Lit up and flickering from the inside, but weirdly unfocused and too wide.  He's staring into nothing, and he looks like he should be swaying, like he should be unsteady on his feet, but now that he's standing he's just...still.  Barely breathing, hardly blinking.  

"I've seen that you've been doing some programming," her dad starts, and Julie makes a tiny, involuntary noise, trying to hold in a slightly hysterical giggle.  Her dad either doesn't hear or doesn't bother to be concerned.  "--This was a failed experiment from research and development, but if you want to try to learn to code..."

"What do you mean, a 'failed experiment'?" says Julie.  "Is he--  Are you--?"  

The boy doesn't seem to hear her talking to him.  Julie's dad laughs, indulgent.  "A cyborg," he finishes for her.  "A failed one.  He's harmless."  A wry twist of his lips and an edge to his voice--Julie can almost hear "...unfortunately".  "...But his programming is extensive.  Plenty to experiment with.  He should be able to tell you what you're doing as you do it, he was a fairly acceptable technician before he fried his brain."  

He gives the boy's shoulder a shove, and he staggers forward toward her, still staring at nothing.  His lips are moving minutely, Julie can see now--he's murmuring almost silently.  

"Transfer registration holder," says her dad, bored and authoritative, and for the first time the boy shudders and speaks.

"...Define registration holder," he says, in a high, young voice that almost makes Julie jump.  Julie's dad looks at her expectantly.  "Full name and credentials."

"Julie," says Julie numbly.  "Julie...Kapulsky.  Executive intern?"  The old family name is a complete unknown in Deluxe at this point, and it's the one on Julie's citizenship record.  It's the safer option, as strange as it feels to say the name out loud.

"Confirmed registration holder transfer," says the cyborg, "Julie Kapulsky."  And then he goes silent and still again, staring dead-eyed into nothing.  

Julie stands there for a second, and just kind of...internally screams.  Okay.  Okay.  So...this is a cyborg, this is a human guy who looks not much older than Julie, with computer parts shoved in his skull, and her dad is...giving her this boy.  To practice on.  

"He should have enough brain left to take care of himself," her dad is saying, somewhere on the other end of a long tunnel, "If he's more trouble than he's worth, we can find...other uses for him."

On the one hand, if Julie accepts this, she's going to own another human being.  Which is...wow, no.  But on the other hand, if she doesn't, her dad is going to take him back, and find something else to do with him.  And Julie doesn't honestly trust him not to do something awful and unconscionable with this guy, especially considering the way he sneered when he said "harmless".  

He's smiling at her now.  Horribly, Julie realizes he's waiting for Julie to thank him.

"Wow!" she says, and manages an almost convincing smile.  "That's really something, d--  M-mister Kane!"

"You don't have to do that, Julie-bear," says her dad reassuringly, and gives the cyborg another push in her direction.  "Your old man's not bad at coding, himself."  He flashes her that strange, warm smile he does sometimes, so at odds with the words that come out of his mouth, the things he does.  "...Anything he hears about who you are, he'll scrub out of his memory automatically.  As far as he knows, you're just an exceptional intern."

"Thanks dad!" says Julie, with tight, manic brightness.  "Cool!  Really neat!  I'll go and, and practice, now!  Try him out!"  She takes the boy's arm, pulling; he follows her lead, eyes still focused on nowhere and nothing.  "Looks like a ton of fun, thanks!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart," says her dad, and pats her shoulder affectionately.  "I'll see you for dinner tomorrow night.  Don't be late."

"I won't!" says Julie, barely listening now.  "I'll, yeah!  See you!  Thanks dad!  Bye!"

She can't close the door fast enough.  

--

"Can you hear me?"

It takes a second for him to respond; he stirs, blinking, and then his eyes re-focus just a little and he says "...Confirmed."

Geez, that's so weird.  Julie holds his eyes for a brief second, looking for any sign of consciousness or comprehension--she doesn't see any.  The cyborg stares at the floor for a second, then his eyes slowly slide out of focus again.

"Kane's gone," she tries, and she can't tell if the faint twitch of his features is recognition of what she said or just the automatic reaction to his registration holder speaking to him.  "You can come back now."

"Invalid request," he murmurs.

"Do you..."  Julie drags a hand through her hair, groans.  She really doesn't want to dig into this guy's programming, doesn't want to have her hands on something that intimate when he hasn't given her permission--doesn't even seem to register she's there half the time, and can't imagine saying "no" to her when he does.  "Do you have a rollback protocol?"

There's a moment of silence, and then the cyborg blinks.  "...Confirmed," he says.

"Really?"  Julie's heart leaps.  "Okay, well--okay!  Run rollback protocol!"

"One executive exception noted," he says, "Authorization; Abraham Kane."

"Can you roll back everything else?"

Blink.  "Confirmed."

"Okay!" says Julie, with more confidence than she's really feeling right now.  "So--  Do that."

"Confirmed."  He looks around, eyes wandering, and then walks slowly to the nearest corner and leans against the wall.  Slides down it, holding his knees, leans his head back against the wall and goes still.  Occasionally, his eyes flicker again.  Other than that, he's motionless.

He sits there for at least five minutes.  Julie watches him for the first two or three, then goes and settles down on his bed, pulling up a screen and flicking cautiously through a few shopping catalogues.  The flickering of his eyes catches her peripheral vision; first few and infrequent, then faster and faster until it's an almost-constant glow, dim through his eyelashes.  And then he gives a sharp gasp, a jerk, and doubles forward, head resting on his pulled-up knees, making sharp little noises of unmistakable distress.

"Hey!" says Julie, and pushes herself up, hurrying across the room toward him.  "Hey, are you okay?"  And then, with a little more authority, "--you're okay.  You're safe now, you're okay."

"Where--?!"  The cyborg stares around, eyes round and panicky. "Kane, where--  They'll take, they'll make me--  Don't make me--"

"Whoa!" Julie says, and grabs his wrist, snags the other one, pulling his attention back to her.  "Hey, look at me.  You're safe.”

Slowly, he stops struggling, staring at her.  His face is really pale, ashy with fear, and he's breathing too hard and too fast, like a cornered animal.  "I'm," he says, and swallows hard, sniffs, turns his hands so he can grip her wrists.  His hands are big and long-fingered, cold, trembling.  "I, he said he'd--  They're not gonna?"

"No," says Julie, because god, she doesn't know what her dad said to this guy but thank god he handed him over to Julie instead.  "No, nobody's going to hurt you or--or anything."  It's dumb, it's--she doesn't own him, no matter what her dad says, but she still feels responsible, and he's huddling into the corner, he looks so scared.  Julie reaches out, slow and careful as he flinches from her, and rubs his shoulders, squeezes his arms as he shakes.  "He's gone," she says, slow and clear.  "He's not going to hurt you, you're safe.” 

The boy stares at her for another second, taking fast, panicky breaths, and then--oh, no.  His chin crumples and his cheeks go red and blotchy and he just--collapses forward and clings to her, shaking all over, making awful little muffled noises into her shoulder.  Julie holds him, dumbfounded and profoundly uncomfortable, and does her best to make comforting noises.  

"Who?" he manages, finally, in a shaky little gasp, "Who, are, where am I?  What happened?"

"I'm Julie," says Julie, and rubs one scarred forearm in a way she hopes is comforting. 

"Chuck," says the cyborg, like a reflex, and scrubs at his nose with one hand, staring around her pod.  "I'm, I'm Chuck?  I'm Chuck."  And then, wavering again, small with fear, "...why am I here?  What's he gonna do with me?"

Oh.  Shit.  Well, it's a reasonable question, as much as she hates to give an answer.  "He's not going to do anything with you," Julie says.  "Kane uh.  Gave you to me.  Like, as a present?  I'm sorry."

"Why would he give me...to you," says Chuck.  There's a weird, focused look on his face, like he's struggling to work something out.  "I'm, I, he trashed me, but, I'm a significant, I'm, expensive?  Why you?"

Well, shit.  Alright.  There's no way Julie's going to keep him with her, up here, so she's going to have to pull some illegal stuff to get him free anyway...  Julie licks her lips, hesitates, and then decides to take the plunge.

"My name is Julie...Kane," she says, and sees Chuck's eyes flash suddenly blazing blue, blinding.  "I'm his daughter."

Chuck stares at her for a long, long second.  Then a little longer, then, just, keeps staring.  

"...Chuck?" says Julie.

"Huh?" says Chuck.  "Sorry, I--uh, I, what did you say?  I spaced out."

"I said, I'm Kane's daughter."

Again, a weird, silent moment.  Then Chuck smiles vaguely and goes "Ha, sorry, what were we, uh..." foggy-eyed and distracted, and Julie's heart sinks.  One executive exception noted.    If her dad was going to make one thing permanent, of course it would be the protocol to keep Julie's identity secret.  Chuck is starting to look pale, too, dizzy and bleary and strained.  Julie shakes her head, shakes the thought off.

"You look like you could use some food," she says instead.  "C’mon."

Chuck stares at her, blinking vaguely, and then nods a second late.  "Sure," he says.  "Yeah, uh...I...yeah.  What were we...talking about?"

"It's not important," says Julie, and Chuck's eyes flash once, twice, and then go dim again.  He nods.  

"Okay," he says, and shakes his head, dismissing whatever he was thinking about.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I thought--  It's...not important."

[dragonheart-swtor]

Old Wounds

Summary: In which Erisine reacts understandably poorly to learning Vaylin is under a kind of mind control very similar to what she was once subjected to and forbids Garen from using it, and a disapproving Valkorion has no meaningful sense of boundaries and no qualms about outing Eris’s trauma to Garen without her consent to try and convince Garen she’s being irrational and making a mistake.

Tags: No Archive warnings apply, mind control aftermath/recovery, implied/referenced mind control, hurt/comfort but it’s pretty light this time, KOTET spoilers

Find me on AO3 at Dragonheart37!

-----

Reactions to Garen describing the events aboard the Gravestone and the news about Vaylin's keyword varied.

Nox recoiled, eyes wide and brow furrowed as if she wasn't sure how she felt about this revelation, only that it wasn't a good feeling. Zashiil startled almost as much, glancing across at the rest of the council like she was looking for reactions too. Theron swore under his breath and pushed himself away from the table to pace across the back wall, shaking his head. Lana rubbed a hand over her face, thoughts flickering behind her eyes too fast to read.

The Commander, whose opinion on this development mattered most of all, did not startle, or pace. A split second of shock flickered across her face, and she went very, very still, lowering her gaze to stare at the holotable. Her fingers might have been a fraction tighter on its edge than they had been a moment ago, but Garen had been watching her face, not her hands, so she couldn't be sure.

Lana was the first to speak. “We could use that to stop Vaylin. If we can just get close to her – we can stop her.”

“I don't like it,” Zashiil muttered. “Taking someone's free will from them. Separating them from the Force. It's wrong.”

“So is massacring a hundred thousand people to catch three fugitives, but Vaylin hasn't had any problems doing that,” Lana countered.

“Zashiil's right,” Theron said, turning back to the table and running a hand through his hair. “We can't justify everything with what our enemies are willing to do, or we're no better than them.”

“Lana might be right about this one,” Koth added, though he didn't sound certain. “Vaylin has to be stopped somehow. She's a monster.”

Zashiil glanced at Nox, as if expecting support, but Nox was staring at the table, fingers clenched around her own biceps as she crossed her arms, silent. The Barsen'thor hissed between her teeth. “I hate Vaylin as much as anyone, but it's not right. You know that.”

“Enough,” said the Commander. The word wasn't loud, but it drew the whole room's attention back to her somehow. She was still staring at the holotable, face carefully neutral, but her voice was sure when she spoke. “This isn't an argument worth having. It's not an option.”

The collective shock at the decisiveness of that rippled through the Force. Lana blinked, clearly taken aback. “Commander?”

She looked up now, green eyes hard as chips of jade. “I'm not arguing about this, Lana. I'm taking it off the table. Zashiil and Theron are right.”

Koth made a shocked noise in the back of his throat. “Commander, you can't just – this is Vaylin we're talking about. I don't like it either, but we need every edge we can get.”

“You will not use Vaylin's programming against her,” the Commander said, turning to look Garen square in the face. It was so small Garen could have imagined it, but she thought she heard a tremor in the Commander's voice. “That's an order, Master Garen'ishta.”

Garen recoiled a little despite herself, startled. An order – the Commander so rarely gave those, or at least rarely said it so bluntly, to her councilors. Lana leaned forward. “Commander, I understand your hesitation, but -”

“But nothing,” the Commander snapped, then paused to take a breath. When she went on, she sounded calm again. “I understand the risks and prices. But I won't allow it. There are depths even I won't stoop to. Let whatever price we may pay be on my head.”

Lana didn't get a chance to respond to that before the scene froze, colors fading.

Valkorion's voice interrupted. “Commander Ganne. Such a brilliant woman. And yet so foolish sometimes.” He circled around behind the Commander, shaking his head. “Such an obvious mistake, and she's walking right into it.”

“She's right,” Garen retorted. “It's wrong to – to manipulate Vaylin like that. Even Vaylin.”

“Vaylin is a danger to herself and everyone else,” Valkorion said, eyes narrow. “Your Commander would agree, were it not for her past. She allows her fear to get the better of her.”

Garen hesitated. “Her – her past? What are you talking about?”

Valkorion smiled grimly. “Vaylin is far from her first experience with such programming. She served my Sith Empire. She knows what it's like to have a leash.” He tilted his head, examining Erisine's frozen face. “She was dangerous, too. In a different way. She killed a Dark Councilor; she could have killed more, perhaps. So she was brought under control.”

Garen's brow furrowed as she turned that over in her mind. She hadn't known this; the Commander had never spoken of it. Which no doubt meant she wasn't supposed to know. “None of this matters.”

“Oh, but it does,” Valkorion disagreed. “She's making a critical mistake, one that might cost thousands of lives, all because she's letting her emotions override the logic that tells her she should know better. She sympathizes with Vaylin because she's been Vaylin. That doesn't mean my reasons for controlling my daughter weren't sound.”

Garen gritted her teeth. “Why are you telling me this? You can't expect it to change my mind.”

“Perhaps not. But I hope it will, and that you won't let the Commander's irrational emotions dictate your actions.”

“You're wrong,” she insisted.

“So be it, then.”

The world came back into focus as Valkorion's presence receded. Garen spoke, aloud this time. “I'm not planning to use Vaylin's keyword, Commander. You have my word.”

The Commander's shoulders relaxed slightly, a little of the tension going out of her, as if she'd been braced for Garen to fight her on this. “Good. Now that that's settled, we should talk about Arcann and how to handle him.”

For a moment, Lana looked like she might still protest, but the tone the Commander spoke in brooked no argument, and after a beat of hesitation Lana sighed. “Very well. If you're sure about this.”

-----

Garen found the Commander standing on the edge of the balcony, leaning against the railing with one foot propped behind the other, staring out over the forests of Odessen. She hesitated a few meters away, not wanting to interrupt the Commander's thoughts.

The Commander nodded slightly without turning around. “Garen.”

Garen blinked, then moved up to the railing next to her. “How did you know it was me?”

Erisine smiled dryly, still looking out toward the horizon. “Footsteps. Yours are the lightest out of anyone on the council. And no one outside the inner circle ever comes to find me out here.” She snorted. “Well. No one who isn't Kaliyo, anyway. But she wouldn't have hesitated to bother me.”

Garen shook her head. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“I have to keep some tricks up my sleeves.”

They stood quietly for a moment, while Garen tried to formulate a way to broach the subject she wanted to gracefully. “So, uh,” she started, hesitantly, ignoring Valkorion's disapproval seeping through the back of her mind. “You seemed... pretty upset about Vaylin.”

Erisine turned to look at her, long enough for Garen to start getting uncomfortable before she spoke. “He's told you something you're not supposed to know about me, hasn't he?”

Garen winced. “I'm sorry. I didn't... I can't always shut him out.”

“Don't apologize. It's not your fault.” Her fingers tightened on the railing. “What did he tell you?”

She could feel him projecting himself standing behind her; she ignored him as best she could. “He said you know what it's like to have a leash. You sympathize with Vaylin because you've been Vaylin. That...” She pulled one lek over her shoulder to fidget with it uncomfortably. “That you're letting your emotions override logic, even though you know we should use Vaylin's programming against her. You – you get the idea.”

The Commander's lips tightened a fraction. “I see.” She looked back out toward the horizon again. “I have to ask you to keep this to yourself, Garen. It's true I know Vaylin's... situation better than almost anyone. But I assure you, it's no longer relevant.” She took a beat to swallow, and Garen tried to pretend she hadn't felt the echoes of old hurt in the Force, too strong to block out completely. “I undid my programming a long time ago. It's not a security threat.”

“I know,” Garen said softly. “You wouldn't let something like that compromise the Alliance.”

Before she could say more, she felt Valkorion step further into the front of her mind. “She's wrong,” he said, circling around into view behind Erisine. “She may no longer be under control of a keyword, but her past is a threat to you. She sympathizes with Vaylin.”

Garen frowned. “I wouldn't use Vaylin's programming against her even if the Commander hadn't ordered me not to,” she replied silently. “It's wrong. No matter how much of a threat Vaylin is.”

“And when innocents die preventable deaths because you wouldn't do what was necessary to stop her?” he challenged, arching one eyebrow. “What will you say then?”

That made her falter. What would she? What could she possibly say?

No. Don't let him break you. He was just looking for weaknesses – things he could exploit to manipulate her. She'd come this far and done this much good without needing to justify horrors; she couldn't start now.

He'd felt the hesitation, though, and Garen felt his satisfaction seep into her mind. She focused for a moment, pushing him back into the background again. Time caught up with her – she hadn't even realized it had stopped this time – and the Commander was looking at her, half a question in her eyes. Before Garen could say anything, Erisine said, “He was talking to you.” Garen nodded. “You get this – look on your face. Like you stop registering everything else for just a second.”

Garen sighed. “Valkorion has this trick he likes to do sometimes where he slows down my perception of time so he can talk without being interrupted. That's probably the look.”

Erisine shook her head. “I'll never understand the Force.” She smiled dryly. “He say anything I should know about?”

Garen flicked a lek dismissively, though even that was half-hearted. “Badgering me about agreeing with you. About Vaylin, I mean. Nothing important.”

Erisine mmed understanding. After a beat of silence, she asked, sounding hesitant, “Does he do that often?”

“Badger me?” Garen shrugged wearily. “Not usually like this. He's always listening, and he likes to give annoying commentary. We disagree on a lot of stuff.”

Erisine laughed. “I can imagine.” She sobered again, then said quietly, “I am sorry you got stuck with this. I don't really understand how it all works, but I've had a voice in my head, even if it wasn't a ghost of the Force or whatever. It's not easy.”

“You've had a voice in your head?”

She waved a hand. “Weird – brain stuff. Side effect of the programming. Turns out the human brain doesn't respond very well to external control being forced on it.” She huffed a half-hearted laugh and added dryly, “Can't imagine how that might apply to Vaylin.”

A vague sense of disapproval from Valkorion floated through Garen's mind. She ignored it, again. “I do wonder how much it was his... choking control on her that turned her into this,” Garen admitted softly. “I wouldn't blame her for rebelling, against that. Even if she's taken it much too far.”

Erisine pursed her lips. “No. I can't blame her for that much either.” She looked down, staring blindly over the railing for a long stretch of silence. “Garen, I don't want you to feel like I don't care that I'm putting you at risk. If I didn't think you could beat her...”

Garen reached out to touch Erisine's elbow lightly, just a brush of fingertips. “I know,” she assured her. “I wouldn't use it even if you'd told me to. It's not right.”

Erisine snorted. “Telling your superior you'd disobey a direct order? Brave.”

Garen let a smile crinkle her face. “A Jedi never lies.”

“I think the Barsen'thor would disagree,” Erisine replied, smiling back. She shrugged her arm away from Garen slightly, and Garen took her cue to withdraw her hand from where it still lay against Erisine's elbow. “It's good, I think. To have people willing to push back against me and tell me when I'm wrong. That's one thing the Empire was never good at. Perhaps the Alliance can do better.”

Garen looked out again over Odessen, over the dock below. “We'll pull it off,” she promised. “We'll beat Vaylin. And we'll set things right. All of us, together.”

Erisine nodded. “I hope you're right.”

[fandom-necromancer]

Two types of partners

This was prompted by a lovely anon! Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900

The RK900 model had never been made for the broad public. An android designed for military use had no need for pleasantries and fancy social modules. It had been issued with a rudimentary loyalty routine that helped to reduce casualties by stretching the object of protection to more than just the single unit. It was outfitted with a simple communication device to give reports for human colleagues. Fighting in the war for the north pole it wouldn’t need the ability to evaluate actions. Getting orders and following them was important. Sacrificing an android to safe human lives was essential. Cyberlife had known of deviancy far before the public got to learn about it and knew what could lead to disobedience. So, they had stripped the RK900 from everything that might trigger deviancy and installed new programs that kept it in line. The newest line of androids was considered unable to deviate at all. There had been intense testing, pushing RK900s to their limits in stress to the point of self-destructing. Never once had one deviated.

Unfortunately, that meant that once androids had been granted their rights, the RK900s were quite lost. Unable to be used in the war as no android was ready to deem them the machines they were and unable to live the life other androids could with their rudimental programming, drastic changes had to be made. Elijah Kamski himself had tried to break the code, but as no one was sure what had lead to deviancy in the first place, it was hard to achieve it manually. In the end, the RK900s were patched with an updated social module and a program that allowed them to disregard orders. Any order was still engraved in their mission protocol, but a routine with higher priority allowed them to choose to follow.

It hadn’t been more than duct tape holding together a chasm, but it seemed to work. And it saved the RK900 models from being deactivated and further experimented upon. Several news broadcasted a special about the RK900s entering society with the advice to never issue an order directly unless immediately necessary. And life went on. The RK900s ventured out to try and find their place. One found theirs at the fifth precinct of the Detroit Police. Named Nines by a human partner that seemed to have a deep hatred for any android, he started working. He wasn’t bothered by the curses thrown his way. He knew the human didn’t like him, but that was it. He had never tried to follow up on his threats, so Nines didn’t feel a particular reason to take action.

Time went by and the Detective at his side got more docile. He adapted. He offered Nines his first name, Gavin. He had changed from real hate to being overly grumpy around him. He had grown to respect the android’s capabilities. By the time they knew each other better than anyone else, Nines decided to activate his loyalty routine for him. This human was important to him, he felt. Gavin had to be protected. After a few months, they had become friends. Nines tagged along on Gavin’s breaks, studying his reactions to aspects of life the android never knew he would want to experience. He wasn’t sure he even really wanted to experience them now. For the time being, he was fine staying a observer. They went to coffee shops, Gavin trying out food and drinks Nines scanned curiously. They met with Tina on bar nights and Nines found he was fascinated by the human tendency for intoxicating themselves. He had to admit, it was [fun] to watch.

Sometimes - it usually were evenings and he was always alone at home – he thought about how easy it was for them. To be in control, to never walk on eggshells because the next carelessly uttered sentence could trigger something hidden inside. It had happened a few times already, but Nines had kept it a secret, embarrassed mostly. ‘Make me a coffee, dipshit!’ It had been a harmless occasion, but Nines really didn’t want to obey after the argument he had with the man only minutes before. ‘Get the hell out of here!’ That one had entailed an overly awkward situation where Gavin had met him standing outside in the parking lot and stumbled to apologise and ask him to come back inside. ‘Nines, no matter what happens, stay behind cover!’ That order had nearly cost Gavin his life during a mission gone wrong. Nines had shouted his [anger] at him in the hospital, ignored his texts and only visited him three days later.

Maybe he should tell the man. Maybe he should admit the red walls weren’t gone, just waiting for the right time to pop up again and press down on his consciousness. That his patch could glitch out in the right situations, when his stress was high, or he was fending off a virus or when he made a backup of his systems. But in the end, he had always concluded he didn’t want special treatment. And so far, he could have always played it down. The coffee he had brought as a prove he was above petty arguments. Running from the bullpen because of anger about what Gavin had said. Staying behind cover because he trusted Gavin. He feared for the day it wouldn’t be that easy.

-

Nines had closed the door of Gavin’s car and hurried to follow the human who hurried towards the entrance. He had just been dispatched from the hospital and had his arm in a sling from where he was shot in the shoulder. Nines hadn’t had the chance to talk to him about what happened. He was [worried] and the shock from seeing his human bleeding heavily still stuck to his systems. He was [relieved] everything had turned out okay, but also [afraid] the man would take his survival as a justification to do it again.

So, he called out to him, trying to make him stop: ‘Gavin, we need to talk about-‘ ‘No, we don’t, tin-can!’, Was his immediate answer, marching on. ‘Gavin…’ The man turned around and pointed his finger at the android. ‘It was an overwhelming situation! What should I have done? Let you die?’ Nines sighed, finally catching up to him. ‘I wouldn’t have died. And what you did was reckless. You could have killed yourself. I can be repaired, Gavin.’ ‘Well, sorry for instincts taking over when faced outnumbered, idiot!’, Gavin spat in his face, spinning around to bolt for the door. But Nines was faster: He reached out and held the human back by his good arm. ‘Gavin, I don’t want you to endanger yourself for me, okay? You are…’ He searched for the right word that conveyed importance, loyalty, a mess of uninterpretable emotions and their shared experience. He failed. ‘You are my partner, Gavin’, he ended up saying, hoping his voice wasn’t too emotionless. But Gavin didn’t catch on. He had looked [hopefull] or [expectantly] during the pause, but now there was only a scowl as the man pulled his arm free. ‘Bite me, tin-can.’

[Bite Det. Gavin Reed.] Oh no. The red walls slammed down on him without premonition and encased his mind in narrow bars. Nines tried to reach for his override protocol, but of course, his distress in trying to tell Gavin what he felt had made it inaccessible. He tried to use his loyalty routine to outmatch his mission, but that only created another red wall. [Do not harm Det. Gavin Reed.]

That… That left him with few options, none of them something Nines wanted to do in this situation and with possible onlookers. But his programming left no room for wishes. He stepped in front of Gavin, effectively blocking his path, and leaned down on his level. ‘You are my partner’, he muttered and kissed him carefully, hoping that to either even the path or make Gavin utter a new mission about him leaving. But like he had expected, Gavin was surprised and intrigued by it. So, Nines kissed him again and wandered to his collarbone to first kiss and then carry out his mission by biting down with a gently force. ‘Shit- Nines! What are you doing, you- Oh.’ Gavin stopped himself. ‘Oh, shit, you meant that kind of partner?’ ‘Yes’, Nines nodded, relieved the red walls had retreated again. ‘Although I doubt you meant this kind of bite.’ Gavin chuckled, resting his forehead against the android’s shoulder, touching the bite mark with his good hand. ‘You know what? Maybe I did.’