evecolourshock

[evecolourshock]

Jet blinked slowly. Twice. He still took the tray with a nod, but it took him a moment to formulate any words to go with it.

Infuriating, contrary Administrator.

The whole reason Jet had tried to get a soldier's attention instead of Thanatos' was to avoid disturbing or agitating said Program.

There were two whole guards. Highly decorated and probably high ranked, if what little he could work out from their uniform was correct. And there were definitely more on the ship to delegate instructions to. And sure, they followed orders, but... even then, surely they had enough reasoning to be able to handle relatively small decisions like "should we allow the humans to have energy".

Strange Program. Irritatingly unfathomable logic trees.

"Never said you were." Jet commented. "But... thanks. For the energy. And other stuff. I'll... keep that in mind."

He carried the tray over to Ed, setting it down in easy reach. "Puzzles? Got some... well. Kinda between snacks and drinks." He sat down on the floor, facing Ed, so he could pour the energy without risking it going anywhere except in the cup. "It's... kinda like a smoothie crossed with a slow-release energy drink? But also a lot like water. And tastes way better than I'm making it sound." He gentled his voice a little - not enough to be patronizing, but definitely less loud. "I promise it's safe to drink. It won't make you sick."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

Jet stayed close enough Ed could grab him if needed, in easy reach. A living support rail, if Ed needed to check his balance.

The hoodie probably didn't entirely help, flopped as it was over Ed's eyes, but at least it would reduce the amount of light Ed had to deal with.

Ed made it to the mattress - just - and collapsed onto it. Jet didn't like how drained Ed looked, but he'd successfully walked four whole steps despite being in no condition to do one - at least as far as Jet was concerned. So, that was a success, in his book.

Now just to get as many cushions and blankets as possible, and move the other mattress.

And, if possible, energy, Jet added mentally. It wasn't the best option for food, but it would be at least something. And Ed wouldn't be at risk of having his allergies set off by it.

First things first.

"Excuse me?" Jet wandered up to the barrier, hoping to get a soldier's attention. It didn't... seem to do anything - in fact, when he went to knock on it, his hand went straight through - but exploring whatever degree of unexpected freedom he now had would involve leaving Ed on his own with someone who terrified him. Not an option. Jet stayed inside the perimeter.

"Hi. I know I'm... probably going to sound like a pest, but could we please have as many blankets and pillows as you guys can spare? It's to ensure Ed's comfort." Jet glanced over at Thanatos, trying to calculate how the Administrator might react - things for Ed seemed to be less... contentious requests. "And some energy, if possible. More for him than me."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

ELF HOLY FUCK I LOVE XEM

Xe's frankly terrifying and imposing and I love how xe's a short monarch on top of all of that. Absolutely frightening in the best way.

And a SCYTHE FIGHTER???? So cool!!! Really leaning into the reaper/death god aspect, but also xe's just overworked and over it.

And xir outfit! XIR OUTFIT!!!! I love it. Very late 1700's French Military but also it works so well for the Grid in the style you mentioned.

I just love xem so much.

Nobody asked, but here's Thanatos from my thread with @evecolourshock. Xe gives me Napoleon vibes. Meant to be a conquering general of xir own digital empire? Yep. At the very least, he's short and probably has a Napoleon complex.

In canon, we're blaming the 1700/1800 inspired outfit on Ed singing a lot of Les Miserables in an attempt to stay sane.

Xir siblings names are very much symptomatic of Ed's mental state in his fCon verse.

[evecolourshock]

"Alright." Jet smiled. "How do you want to do this - getting onto the bed? I can pick you up if you want, or you can make your own way over, or I can support you while you walk... whatever you like. Tap one, two, or three, or if you prefer something else tap it out and I'll figure out how to make it happen."

"I'll also pull the other mattress over - it can go on its edge against the back wall, and we can trap blanket edges behind it so they drape down like curtains. Somewhere between a poster bed and a tent."

He did have a log of some code that when rezzed formed a Sam-sized weighted blanket - plenty big enough for Ed. Forest green, though he doubted Ed was in a state to care about the colour. Maybe Thanatos would be willing to copy it - since hugging Ed was clearly off the table, Jet hoped this would be the next best thing.

If he could convince Thanatos. Without getting defensive or snappy.

Jet could hope.

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

"Okay." Jet murmured, seeing Sam in Ed's jerky shoulders - a little kid not even 10 yet, his whole world gone in less than a few hours, trying to be brave but too shocked to really know what he wanted or needed. Wounded to the core.

A father, lost. A son, crumbling.

But while Kevin hadn't been a great dad to Sam, he'd at least been a decent dad. Not the most reliable, but loving in his own way. How long that would have lasted, Jet didn't know, but Kevin had been okay until he disappeared.

Dillinger Senior hadn't been a dad to Ed at all, even from what little Jet now knew - and he knew full well that couldn't be all of it. But Ed had loved him, that much had been more than clear, and-

This probably hurt worse. After all, everyone was still alive, but Ed's father had decided Ed wasn't worth being his son anyway.

"How about this." Jet offered, leaning over to rest his head against Ed's for a moment. "We get you out of that chair and onto the bed. I go badger people for blankets and pillows - I have the code for 'em, just can't make them myself right now. And we make a pillow fort."

"I know, sounds childish, yeah? But you'll have a barrier making sure the world can't get to you, and if you want me nearby but don't want to see me then you can tuck yourself under the blankets."

"You're really brave, Ed. Been through so much, and survived it all. It's alright if you let someone else be strong for you, right now." Jet gently wiped what little he could see of a tear away. "He never deserved someone as amazing as you."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

Short answer? I don't hold on to all of it. I note it down or upload memory copies to datahexes, and keep them in a series of libraries to reference back against.

Plus my operational code is incredibly streamlined, since I'm written for a system with far less space than this (I thought a single gigabyte of storage was incredibly roomy. This system is over a thousand times larger). The discs here have a standard storage volume, so I take up less space on my own disc percentage-wise than you do yours - which gives me more room for memories, but also can have some... interesting side effects. There is a reason I don't go out to places like the End Of Line very often, even though if Zuse isn't feeling too capricious he's decent company.

Guys! I have a dilemma!

So I was snooping around on some archived, and really old user data. I went through one of my friend's older user requests, from a long, long time ago, and we saw this interesting garbled piece of code:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°( ಠ ͜ʖ ಠ ) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We have no idea what this is or what it means, but we came up with a theory that perhaps the user gave us some code that will help us understand the user's higher dimension. My other friend thinks the user must've malfunctioned, because who would spam a bunch brackets, degree symbols, or upside-down question marks? I'm not sure what to think 😕 if anyone has any idea, please let me know.

[evecolourshock]

...Jet probably should have anticipated the stress catching up to Ed, especially now they'd been somewhat forced to stop moving. "Ssh, Puzzles. It's alright." Jet soothed, tugging his jacket out from where it had gotten bunched up in the chair behind Ed.

If he remembered right from the few times Ed had been upset enough for his mask to crack at school, Ed needed somewhere to hide right now. Away from people, no risk of being perceived. Hells, that was why Jet had started the whole note-friend thing in the first place - Ed needed space to feel safe. And a Recognizer's cabin was many things, but conducive to privacy wasn't one of them. So-

"Here you go, Ed. Portable hiding spot." Jet draped the jacket carefully over Ed's shoulders. "Just gonna flip the hood up, alright? It's huge on you, very floppy." And it was - covered most of Ed's head, all the way down to his chin. "Now they can't see you." He hummed quietly. "Do you want me to go away for a bit? I can lean against the barrier, see if that darkens it enough you'll have another layer to hide behind. I can turn my back too, if it helps."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

"Hey. Ed. No, don't you give me that." Jet murmured, moving so Ed was looking at him. "None of this is your fault. I promise, it's not your fault." He carefully uncurled Ed's stiff fingers, keeping watch for tiny winces or other signs of discomfort - not that Ed was being particularly responsive again. "And even if it was, you're doing your best and that's more than good enough, you hear?"

"You spotted these guys way before I did. If you hadn't, they really would have taken us by surprise, but you saw they were headed our way and warned me. That was a huge help, bought us time to get to shelter and regroup enough to be levelheaded - or at least not outright start a fight." Jet checked the patches - nonadhesive except to themselves, nice - and carefully wrapped Ed's hand in a thin layer before giving him the cold compress. The patches morphed to an almost silky texture, barely noticeable even against what no doubt were sensitive nerves, and the cold compress drew the heat out so the wound didn't get more severe.

"The matrices - those were yours, yeah? They don't match what's left of Senior's work I've found on Encom." Jet checked. "Ed, the fact they worked as well as they did is because you pulled off a goddamn miracle. The Shiva Project took years to get to where it is now. Over three decades. Thousands of tests - on fruit, on simple life forms, on plant matter. On animal cadavers. And even then, it was only in the past four months they've truly been considered stable and robust enough for human transportation. You had a fraction of that - less than. And not only did you get them working, you got them robust enough you survived the trip in. That's phenomenal, Ed. Truly. And that's all you, Puzzles. You made a miracle happen. And I'm so goddamn glad you did."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

method actor this method actor that. toshiro mifune played a guy getting shot at by arrows by getting shot at by arrows

and yeah i believe it. ^ this is the face of a guy getting shot at by arrows

[evecolourshock]

Jet took the medkit with a quiet word of thanks, keeping Thanatos in at minimum his peripherals the whole time. It took a great deal of concentration to walk backwards through the containment field - shuddering as it washed over him - without tripping.

The barrier brought its own kind of paradoxial safety - as much as the Administrator and the soldiers could no doubt get through it, the risks they'd be taking with their own lives and limbs were far too high to be worth the intrusion. If Jet didn't physically toss them out again, as callous as it sounded Ed's corruption would be a decent deterrent.

Once far back enough he deemed himself somewhat safe, Jet turned and made his way to Ed. "Hey Puzzles." He murmured, glad his voice wasn't shaking. "Got a medkit, should be able to do something about your hand now. May I see how bad it is?"

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

In my experience, most Users consider User language inefficient. Or at least easily misinterpreted.

I've ended up learning a lot through discussion and observation - my own User wished to attempt to facilitate communication between her world and ours, and helped create an early iteration of the interface and databases needed to do so.

I should still have one of the few gifts she was able to send me, which helped inform me about how to craft and interpret the runes (a relatively new development in User communication). Give me some time, and I can share at least some of it.

Users write code with a range of complexities - from a simple command like WriteLn all the way through to the most complex of Programs like us. I suppose an analogy would be different tools for different functions - you could not reasonably repair a lightcycle with an archivist's stylus, for instance! It depends on what purpose they create the code for - the more complex the task, the more complex the Program.

In terms of WriteLn specifically, the important part of the code is the WriteLn. This tells the underlying base processes that make up the Grid that the Users need to see what the command says in a way they understand. The brackets and apostrophes indicate the text between them is what needs to be translated, and the semicolon at the end tells the base processes that's the end of the command. Other than that, communicating with Users honestly isn't too much different to communicating with a Program you haven't met before. As scary or powerful as they seem, when it comes to social interactions Users aren't too different to us.

Guys! I have a dilemma!

So I was snooping around on some archived, and really old user data. I went through one of my friend's older user requests, from a long, long time ago, and we saw this interesting garbled piece of code:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°( ಠ ͜ʖ ಠ ) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We have no idea what this is or what it means, but we came up with a theory that perhaps the user gave us some code that will help us understand the user's higher dimension. My other friend thinks the user must've malfunctioned, because who would spam a bunch brackets, degree symbols, or upside-down question marks? I'm not sure what to think 😕 if anyone has any idea, please let me know.

[evecolourshock]

Jet was careful not to snatch the lock when investigating it, wanting to be sure it was what Thanatos said. It did indeed satisfy his conditions, as the Administrator put it, with no functionality beyond what had been described.

Didn't mean he had to like it.

This is for Ed, Jet reminded himself, controlling his breathing while the device locked onto his disc, frankly terrified of something being done or going wrong to this most vulnerable part of him. But someone had to be okay right now, or at least close to it, and he would never ask that of Ed.

The sooner it's over, the sooner I can look after Ed. I can handle it. No matter what, we'll get out of here. I'll force a way out for us if I have to.

Jet's jaw set tense, his body still and defiant. Only his eyes betrayed him, frightened but clinging to hope. A lot like another Bradley the MCP had encountered - a Digital warrior, a watchdog forced into a vastly different role. A protector turned killer, not by his own choice.

He barely moved once it was over, sticking close to the containment field but not yet entering it. Medical supplies first. Then acquiescence - at least for now.

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

Jet wanted to keep arguing. He wanted nothing anywhere near his disc. No hands he didn't trust. No changes he didn't make himself.

A look at Ed quelled that. So small, so scared. Lost. Hurt.

"Fine." Jet gritted out. "Three conditions. Permissions remain as they are for medical care, no edits to the disc itself, and no looking at my memories without consent." He paused a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to return to the calm he'd been forcing for the past who knew how long. Thanatos was, unfortunately, their best option right now. He had to be civil, for Ed's sake. "Ed's hurt. His hand. Burns from a containment field designed more to hurt than... well. Contain. We'll need patches to double as sterile dressings, and a cold compress you don't mind losing to try to at least stop it from getting worse."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

Jet was having a bad day. The whole... fiasco with a hijacked SHIVA transport. Almost dying thanks to said hijacked transport - surviving unharmed by sheer dumb luck. Finding his best friend from high school locked in a closet. Discovering a fraction of what Dillinger Sr had done to said friend. Pursuit by soldiers. Finding out he and Ed could only really get out one way.

A new containment unit - more spacious but still a goddamn cage. What was it with asshole Dillingers - Ed excluded - putting Bradleys and their friends in cages, seriously.

And now he was being asked to hand over what was best described as the physical embodiment of his mind and soul?

Despite his best efforts not to scare Ed further, and in true Bradley fashion, Jet lost his temper.

"Hell fucking no." Jet snarled. "It's staying right where it is, thank you very kindly."

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

Jet dearly wanted to punch Thanatos, the soldiers, or possibly both square in the jaw. Ed wasn't doing well, and sure he understood the necessity of the wheelchair, but-

They could have asked Ed to sit in it, instead of ordering. Politeness went a long way.

"You holding up okay?" Jet asked Ed quietly, keeping close. As much as he wanted to be pushing Ed's wheelchair himself, if they were threatened he'd need the extra maneuverability to put himself in the way. The soldier pushing Ed would by no means be a pushover, but the Gridbug quite literally in their shadow would at least even the odds. "How's the hand?"

Recognizers, at least in Jet's experience, typically carried first aid kits. Program-issue, but a cold compress and some patches to cover the burns would help.

Had an idea for a thread with fCon Ed - or, at least, Ed getting a friend and dragged out of fCon...... whether he realises he needs to get out, or not. Respond if interested :)

Eve peeked around the door of the tech conference's closing gala, eyeing the attendees. She wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be this side of the screen. Definitely wasn't supposed to be attempting to poach employees from rival companies.

But really, was it poaching when it felt more like a rescue?

Future Control Industries... Eve shuddered. She knew exactly what kind of Programs they had as flagships. The Master Control Program that had torn through her home before she was aware enough to understand what was wrong was proof enough.

But their new star programmer...

The child of the owner, named for the same. Intelligent, inventive, driven. A dangerous young man, second only to his father.

At least, according to the media.

Eve thought Edward Dillinger Junior looked... tired. Burnt out. Chained to the man who even now gripped his shoulder so tightly it couldn't be any less than painful.

In need of an Admin - someone to look out for him and help him thrive.

Eve could provide.

She flashed her pass, a gift from Lora Prime - unable to make the conference for health reasons - and stepped in to mingle. Her black dress shimmered pink in the lights, heels high and sharp, eyeliner like tiny knives.

The Legacy Grid had become a battleground not too dissimilar to this one, for all the weapons didn't leave visible wounds. And Eve was an Encom Program - designed, as they all were, to adapt and fight.

Ed always hated tech conferences. It's something he should have looked forward to. There were lots of good talks about the latest innovations, demos of the latest gadgets, lots of fascinating ideas.

It also meant he was stuck in close quarters with his father and no escape.

"Because of his disability," his father rationalized. And maybe that was part of it, but Ed was also aware it was to keep him in line. He had his entire schedule handed to him, every second of his day and a warning not to deviate.

By the time the closing gala arrived, Ed was exhausted. The ballroom was too loud, to bright, and Ed was out of patience for interacting with his father's business partners, or anyone. The only saving grace was the soft silk of his outfit expensive outfit. Ed doubted he could manage any other texture.

He just wanted to go back to the their suit at the hotel and sleep.

Ed snapped at a one of his father's business partners. Someone important, though Ed doesn't remember the man's name, and doesn't particularly care to.

His father squeezed his shoulder in warning.

It's only years of training and discipline that kept Ed from tensing or flinching. He apologized, then excused himself. His father stepped in to smooth things over, and Ed took the opportunity to attempt to disappear into the crowd, though he's aware Dymitr--Ed's "assistant", though Ed was fully aware that the man reported to his father and was truly there to keep him in line-- is following him, not too far behind.

He had been so focused on putting space between him and his father's business partner that he hadn't noticed the woman approaching until she was nearly upon him.

[evecolourshock]

The angry Norts are very accurate given the medium, well done! You can also increase the number of > symbols to indicate a deeper furrow to the eyebrows - which leads to indicating more irritation (or mischief, depending on how it's used).

And close, but not quite! Look at the positioning of the D - see how it's in the same place as the mouth-denotion in a :-) rune? If you were to translate it as per the hieroglyphics guide, the D becomes a grin or open-mouth smile.

I've often found communicating with Users to be something of trial and error (and several accidentally scared Users) outside of a designated communications interface. Learning how they code and create basic functions helps. For instance, running the command WriteLn('Hello World!'); will display Hello World! on their visual interface (assuming the system can process the command - it may require different syntax).

Use with caution. Users don't typically expect their system to start talking to them. Very few are aware of the full capabilities of a Grid and its inhabitants.

More User runes in the guide below :

Guys! I have a dilemma!

So I was snooping around on some archived, and really old user data. I went through one of my friend's older user requests, from a long, long time ago, and we saw this interesting garbled piece of code:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°( ಠ ͜ʖ ಠ ) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We have no idea what this is or what it means, but we came up with a theory that perhaps the user gave us some code that will help us understand the user's higher dimension. My other friend thinks the user must've malfunctioned, because who would spam a bunch brackets, degree symbols, or upside-down question marks? I'm not sure what to think 😕 if anyone has any idea, please let me know.

[evecolourshock]

That's right Beck, well done!

Although Nort can also usually be depicted as:

|:----(

(Heavy/lowered eyebrows, eyes, long nose, unhappy mouth). At least when he's being grumpy.

As you can see, different combinations of symbols can be used to denote different expressions. For instance, a > in front of the eyes/colon is usually used to denote furrowed eyebrows, and depending on the mouth can be used to denote either mischief (happy mouth/closing bracket) or annoyance (unhappy mouth/opening bracket).

Repeating a mouth-symbol often denotes an enhancement of the corresponding emotion. For instance :-))) is generally considered to indicate greater happiness than :-)

Mix and match to make new symbols, and try to figure out their new meanings. Here, I'll start you off:

>:-D

Guys! I have a dilemma!

So I was snooping around on some archived, and really old user data. I went through one of my friend's older user requests, from a long, long time ago, and we saw this interesting garbled piece of code:

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°( ಠ ͜ʖ ಠ ) ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

We have no idea what this is or what it means, but we came up with a theory that perhaps the user gave us some code that will help us understand the user's higher dimension. My other friend thinks the user must've malfunctioned, because who would spam a bunch brackets, degree symbols, or upside-down question marks? I'm not sure what to think 😕 if anyone has any idea, please let me know.