#「 CHARACTER STUDY. 」║〔 ❛ ONLY A SIMULATION. NOTHING SPECIAL. ❜ 〕

[gebder]

I was planning to only talk about Ash themself in propaganda for @original-character-championship but, fuck it ! world lore time, since I want to explain why her name is that and give context for his story so lore is needed.

The entire story is about Ash fucking around and sticking her nose where she shouldnt. Btw. So if any of this intrigues you, you're identifying with him

There's one goddess. She herself doesn't know how she came to be. *Why* she came to be. She tried to make things, to fill this void she was in. First were the angels, in their own little village in space. They look like this. and their petals are more open the closer they are to the goddess

and they were entirely... unsatisfying. Boring. Angels are satisfied with how things are and never try to create anything of their own and it drives the goddess mad. She made them this way because she didn't want to give other beings too much power, didn't want to accidently mess something up, but now she can't understand her own creation. She keeps them to be messengers for her in cases of emergency.

Next were humans. Two things stand at the basis of humanity, to set them apart from the failed civilization. Those things are the want for knowledge, and the ability to create. Now, her way to not give too much power was the concept of mortality.

She wanted mortals to want to live. So she made demons, the guides to the afterlife, to look scary to them on purpose.

Humanity is basically a reflection of the goddess, made for her to help herself figure out what she wants by seeing what we end up wanting.

Once you die, you have three options:

1. live in your own little pocket of reality where everything in there is in your control- for better or for worse- forever, in a sort of goddess simulator. She likes to watch these guys to gain inspiration.

2. Remain a ghost, watching the world whilst being basically unable to affect it. Most people who choose this are either people with family they want to see what happens to, or just any type of grudge or attachment they want to see play out. Ghosts can possess objects and only objects, and might then get stuck in these objects. There are people who can see ghosts, it's a recessive gene that's incredibly rare and it's basically an accident. I have a character who's a ghost possessing a robot body that was made for her as a loophole.

3. Nothing more for you, ever. Sleep. An entirely valid choice.

Magic's all around this world, especially in nature. Witches are scholars who study how to use it. Maybe wizards would fit better but I just like the aesthetic and the sound of witches. I also like the connotation to modern witches. A big point of my oc world is it's urban fantasy, modern and all, and there aren't any modern wizards.

Witchcraft is a respectable career path in my oc world these days. It's seen as another branch of science atp. It's even figured out empirically, experiments sometimes held to figure out how witchcraft works, since it's just part of how the world works. It's like physics

Many hospitals have a resident witch who does what they can to help people. Since witchcraft is tied to nature, giving traits of an animal is a safe process. That's why Ash was made a parrot, to also get parrot lungs

Witchcraft is a respectable degree and has special schools for it. It used to be done by pretty much anyone who could comprehend it, but these days it's systemized so pretty much all witches are pressured rich kids

With how the world's magic is from nature, both flowers and gems have huge cultural significance. I chose a lot of motifs for characters with google open on meanings for gems and a floriography dictionary I downloaded.

Angels can actually watch humans through flowers around.

Ash's name, besides being there to be an opposite to demonboy Frost's name since they're meant to be total opposites in the narrative, is after an ash tree's flowers. Those flowers, in floriography, represent grandeur- standing for how all her story follows him seeing all sorts of grand things on accident.

LOOK at my notes we have motifs

don't ask why Juno gets three flowers. hes privileged

Ash working in a flower shop represents how they're surrounded by knowledge of this grand world all the time, but never are able to decipher it and are never truly aware. And also as an excuse for him to be able to recognize flowers easily so he can say the names so the audience can find the meanings easily 👍

that's all, folks ! hehe infodump

[simulaacra]

tagdump01.

[bloodynosesarejustlikeroses]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

✦; ꒰Conner Kent ✗ Tamaranean/Alien!Reader꒱ ;;✦ ↴

✎ . . . Summary ⊹ ≫ You arrive on Earth seeking refuge from the wars on your planet, things don't go as expected at first, but then you find a family on the team, and maybe something else in Conner…

➬ Word count ⸼ ೃ ⊹ 5, 234 words.

;; "Warnings" ¡! ❞ . Kidnapping. Breakup between two characters.

⿻ – ❝ Notes〻*ೃ༄. To the anon who requested, the way you described the reader made me think of tamaraneans, so I used them as a reference, I hope you don't mind. The language I used to simulate Tamaranean is Dutch.

ೃೀ꒲Ko-fi !¡ ⌇ ⁺ ◦ If you enjoy my writing and would like to support me feel free to leave me a tip on my Ko-fi. It's something I will always remember and be grateful for, I assure you.

(English is my second language, so if something sounds out of place or is misspelled, please let me know).

— Oh dear, I'm afraid the heroes will want to take you away from me, but I won't let that happen, you are an invaluable source of information, we still have a lot to find out about you, together... — The words echoed between the walls of the laboratory, a fearful grimace could have appeared on your face but your null energy didn't allow you to move the muscles of your face, yet the sadness was present in your eyes.

Brain had taken you captive since your arrival on earth, he had been able to neutralize each one of your powers and of barely keep you alive. At first, you were just an object for his studies and experiments, but something in you seemed to captivate him in a twisted way, there was something in you, a beauty that he wanted to keep forever.

— Why that sad face dear? If you behave yourself I might consider getting you a bigger cage, or even a room to yourself. — You looked at him, hatred flaming in your eyes as you felt the metal bars of your cage begin to burn your skin due to the length of time you had been leaning on them, but that was the only way you could find to hold your body up.

Gathering your remaining strength you tried to open your lips to tell him to fuck off, but before you could do so the sound of a crash against the hard metal of the lab doors interrupted you.

— Well, it looks like they're already here…— You didn't know who exactly he was talking about, you just knew they were heroes, and that made hope slightly vibrate in your chest. — I'd better get moving. — Your eyes didn't leave the door, you saw how the dents became more evident as a result of the hits; out of the corner of your eye you observed Brain's movements, he had designed a new armor that matched his robotic body, specially designed to fight against the heroes.

— Now my dear, I'd better hide you, I don't want others to admire your beauty. — You objected to the idea, but there was nothing you could do about it, in your current state, even breathing seemed to be difficult for you.

Just like luck was on your side, the large metal door would no longer resist any more hits, which forced Brain to simply cover you with a blanket to hide you, as soon as the cloth touched the structure of your cage the metal doors fell to the ground causing a horrible screeching sound.

An unfamiliar voice reached your ears, from the intonation you could tell it was possibly someone young. — Whatever you are doing in this place ends here and now Brain. — As quickly as the words left Conner's lips a small robotic laugh was heard.

— I don't like to underestimate my enemies, but I think the percentage of probability that you have to defeat me with my new upgrade is quite low, maybe if the rest of your team was here the percentage would increase a bit. — Those words only angered the Kryptonian who threw himself into the fight without hesitation. The noise of the strikes quickly filled the place, desperation gnawed at you, not knowing who was winning or losing made you feel anxious, you didn't know if you would have another chance to escape.

The fight went on for what seemed like an eternity to you, you felt your heart stop in your chest. The commotion quickly stopped, returning to the sepulchral silence of before, no voice was heard, a shaky breathing could be heard faintly, you heard the footsteps echoing in the room, each time sounding more distant, you became alarmed. You got together your last strength to try to speak, but you didn't succeed, instead, a sickly dying whimper came out of your lips. The sound of footsteps stopped for a second, only to return this time slowly approaching you, your heart was pounding in your chest, and your stomach ached, you didn't know if it was because of nerves or because of the bad state you were in.

The blanket that covered your cage was removed, the sudden light of the place forced you to close your eyes, you heard a slight gasp coming from the one in front of you, trying to adjust to the light, you looked up only to find the most beautiful blue eyes. Conner had knelt to get a better look at you, his gaze went all over your body, trying to find any damage, he didn't find any, but it was obvious that you weren't fine, he looked at your face, analyzing it for a moment. Your skin seemed colorless as did your eyes and hair, if he had been told you were a corpse he would have believed it, but despite your terrible state, Conner couldn't help but be stunned by how beautiful you were, your beauty was from another world, or rather, from another planet.

Without taking your eyes off the stranger in front of you, you muttered a couple of incomprehensible things to Conner, but he didn't need to understand what you were saying, your eyes said it all, you were asking for help.

The Kryptonian held the metal bars of your cage tightly between his hands, and with some effort was able to separate them enough to slide your body through the aperture. You tried to move, but it was impossible, Conner noticed it, so with all the gentleness that was in his being he took you in his arms, your body felt cold, which only alarmed him even more, he needed to get you medical help as soon as possible. Unlike Conner you felt calm, peace, his arms were comfortable and warm, you felt safe.

Conner ran through the halls, desperate to find the rest of the team, the thought of you dying in his arms disturbed him greatly. He followed his footsteps back to the entrance, fortunately, the team intercepted him halfway.

The mission was no big deal, mysterious activity had been detected in a complex of subway laboratories that had been abandoned for more than five years, the activity seemed to be linked to Brain, so they had to go and stop him. Security at the place seemed to be nothing more than a couple of armed drones, the rest of the team acted as decoys while Conner confronted Brain.

— Conner! — M'gann said cheerfully, happy that her boyfriend was safe, but her happiness was replaced by concern at seeing you in such a bad state in Conner's arms.

— She is dying, we have to get her to a hospital, now! — The whole team was shocked for a moment, they were full of questions but knew this was not the time for answers.

They recovered from the shock and began to run as fast as they could towards the exit of the place on their way to the Bioship that had been previously called by Miss Martian. Conner looked at you for a moment, your eyes were closed, you didn't know if it was because of the peace you felt or because of the last vitality you had left, your breathing was slow, and the sound of your heart was barely perceptible to Conner's ears.

In just a matter of minutes the entire team had finally exited the subway facility, just a couple of meters from the ship, the afternoon sun hit your skin and it was then that you could open your eyes, you scrambled into the Kryptonian's arms, attracting his attention and forcing him to stop in his tracks along with the rest of the team, who were looking at you with concern. You moved, your whole body trembling slightly due to your weakened state, your legs tried to free yourself from his arms. Superboy understood instantly what you wanted to do, he released you from his grip still holding your body by your waist, your feet touched the ground, and surprisingly you didn't fall.

You raised your head towards the sun, closed your eyes, and exhaled strongly, feeling the vitality come back to you. Just like if it was magic, all your sickness disappeared as soon as the sun touched your skin, your previously dull body began to recover its brightness. You peeled away from Conner's shoulder, having the strength to stand up on your own, an electrifying blast ran through your body. Your hair regained its (h/c) coloration, glowing brightly as fire, the (e/c) flame in your eyes flared up and your feet lifted off the ground.

A surprised "Wow" came from the lips of the entire team watching you, everyone had stepped back to give you space. A happy chuckle left your lips as you felt life come back to you, you turned around, to face your rescuer. If Conner had thought you were beautiful in your weakened state, now you had left him completely speechless.

— Bedankt dat je me gered hebt! — You told him as you gently took his hand, but Conner's expression was one of confusion, he had never heard a language similar to yours.

— I'm sorry, I can't understand you. — A little apologetic glance came across Superboy's face.

You couldn't understand him either, your smile faded and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, but happiness quickly returned when you remembered something. You lifted your head, and saw Conner again, like it was the most normal thing in the world you pounced on him and captured his lips in a tender, short kiss.

A huge gasp came from the lips of the whole team, after all, Conner had a girlfriend, and she was right there. They thought Superboy would push you away, but he didn't, he didn't reciprocate the kiss, but he didn't pull you away either, and that just made M'gann's heartbreak in his chest.

After no more than five seconds you pulled away from his lips, still with a smile on your face without paying much importance to the kiss. — Thank you, my people can learn different languages through lip-to-lip contact. — You said excitedly to finally be able to have communication.

— You know… — Still floating in the air you turned to look at the red-haired boy. — I can speak some French if you are interested. — Wally winked at you flirtatiously.

— And I know some Spanish! — This time it was Robin who spoke with a cheeky grin on his face.

— Oh! I would love to learn more languages of this planet. — You replied innocently thinking they were trying to teach you when in actuality both boys just wanted a kiss from a beauty like you.

— Wait. — Artemis interrupted the moment making gestures with her hands in the air, she didn't look happy, and she wasn't, a complete stranger had kissed the boyfriend of one of her best friends just like that, she definitely wouldn't keep herself quiet. — No! You can't just kiss someone like… — But a hand on her shoulder stopped her, it was M'gann, a hint of sadness was in her eyes, but she still managed to smile, that was enough to make the blonde step back.

Aqualad stepped forward with his eyes focused on you, he was the only one who dared to break the uncomfortable silence that had taken over the whole place. — I guess you're new on earth. — Despite being a simple observation, Kaldur intended to get more information about you.

— Indeed. I arrived on earth a couple of weeks ago, but Brain managed to capture me, without the sun's rays as a source of energy I was vulnerable to anything and my physical condition deteriorated quickly. That is why I am eternally indebted to you for rescuing me. — That answer seemed to be enough for the team, even so, they had a lot of questions about you.

— Why did you come to earth? — Aqualad questioned, your smile disappeared as soon as you heard his question and your feet touched the ground again.

— My planet, Tamaran, is beautiful and I will always love it. — You looked down at the floor, feeling shame for what you were saying, your arms wrapping around yourself. — But for years it has been in an endless war with another planet, I fought as much as I could, but the war took everything from me, my home, my hopes, my family. I didn't want to, I couldn't live like that, so I escaped, I may have been a coward, but I didn't want to continue living in fear.

The team knew they shouldn't let their guard down against a potential enemy, but the way the sadness pooled in your eyes and the words slipped from your lips, you couldn't be lying. You said nothing more, remaining silent under the empathetic gaze of the team, your eyes fixed on the ground.

A warm touch on one of your hands made you look up and meet those beautiful blue eyes that had freed you from your imprisonment, that beautiful blue gave you the strength to speak again. — I came to earth to find a new beginning, a new life, a new home. — A supportive smile curled on the Kryptonian's lips, he understood perfectly what it was like to want a new start.

It was undeniable that a strange bond had formed between you and Conner since the moment he rescued you, and that wouldn't have been bad, were it not for M'gann, who just watched his boyfriend's hand holding your hand, while his heart squeezed at that moment.

[•••]

A huge silence had settled over Mount Justice, no one seemed to know exactly what to say.

Wally looked around, seeing the discomfort reflected in the eyes of his teammates. — So... — The redhead tried to find something to say but was interrupted.

— What will you do with her? — Conner asked.

After finding you in the lab, the team had to bring you to the Justice League for obvious reasons. They were in charge of interrogating you about your arrival on earth, corroborating that everything you said was nothing but the truth, and judging if it was convenient to let you stay on earth. Fortunately, all went fine, you had nothing to hide, so you let Martian Manhunter enter your mind and see everything he needed to see, ending the interrogation.

— Well, she doesn't seem to be a threat, and apparently, she has certain skills that could be… Useful. — Batman replied, reading once again the file where the League had recorded all the information they had collected about you in the last few hours.

— Will you let her join the team? — M'gann asked, not liking the idea at all.

— We will invite her to join the team, yes, but the decision is hers, if she wants to leave and have a normal life among humans she will be allowed to. However, we will run a test to learn more about her skills. — In the timeliest manner possible, the Z-tubes were activated immediately after Batman completed his sentence.

Red Tornado and Black Canary had returned, but they didn't come alone, behind them were you, you watched the whole place with curiosity until your eyes finally landed on the team, you smiled shyly and waved your hand in the air in greeting.

You wish you could have engaged them in conversation, but Batman had no time to waste. — Well, if you are ready for the test we will proceed. — You shrank back a little under the bat's stern gaze, nodded, not quite sure about going through with the test. — Red Tornado will be your opponent.

Without another word, a small part of the floor of the room where you were standing raised creating a platform. Red Tornado moved, standing on one of the edges of the platform, from one moment to another you felt anxious, the fact of being watched by so many people was strange.

A sigh left your lips, your embarrassment was easy to see, Conner moved, and placed one of his hands on your shoulder, getting your attention. — Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine. — He gave you a cute smile, those words were enough to cheer you up.

You floated onto the platform under the watchful eyes of everyone, everyone except M'gann, who watched her boyfriend's eyes sparkle at the sight of you. Her hands clenched into fists, an unpleasant feeling building in her chest.

— Conner. — Through telepathic link contacted her boyfriend. — Can we talk for a moment? — She asked, even if the conversation was mental, the sorrow in her voice was palpable.

— Now? — Your fight with Red Tornado had just begun, and he was certainly curious to see what you could do.

— Yes Conner, now. — This time M'gann's tone in Conner's head was more authoritative.

— Fine…

They both walked away from the rest of the team, nobody seemed to notice since they were too busy spectating your fight against Red Tornado.

— So, what did you want to talk about? — Conner asked, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible.

The silence remained, the words were stuck in his throat. — You don't love me anymore, do you? — The question left Superboy speechless, he saw that moment coming, but it felt so strange.

— I… — He thought for a moment how to answer that question, lying wouldn't do any good, and he didn't intend to do it either, and it was true, he had stopped loving M'gann some time ago, but when he wanted to end it all the memories of his love came back to him, she had been his first love, and even though that love had faded it still hurt to let it go, but there was no point in being together if there was no love.. — No, I don’t love you anymore.

The words came out of his mouth and pierced like daggers through M'gann's heart. She felt tears forming at the edge of her eyes, she lowered her head, she didn't want Superboy to see the tears she would shed for him. — Then… It's over. — His voice broke with those words, and silence fell over the place again.

A look of sadness dulled Conner's beautiful blue eyes, he may not love M'gann anymore, but he didn't enjoy hurting her, with nothing more to say, he left the place, leaving his first love behind forever.

[•••]

— Welcome to the team! — Wally's cheerful voice echoed throughout Mount Justice along with a couple of chuckles. — I imagine you must feel very fortunate to be teamed up with such a handsome guy like me. — The redhead came up to you and wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to him.

You simply laughed at Wally's words, it took you a short time to get used to his flirtatious and energetic personality. It had been a week since your confrontation with Red Tornado, you hadn't managed to defeat him, but you had put up a decent fight which surprised the team, after all, they had faced Tornado themselves before and knew how powerful he was. Right after the end of the fight Batman offered you a place in the team, at first you hesitated, you had escaped from a war and you didn't want to enter another one, usually, in Tamaran everyone was on their own, so seeing how the heroes used their abilities and powers to help others had generated a strange feeling in you, seeing how everyone trusted their lives in the hands of heroes they didn't know.

So you accepted the invitation, and here you were, the team had thrown you a little welcome party, you felt your heart beating happily being with them, they reminded you how nice it felt to have a home, Tamaran had stopped feeling like that since you lost your family.

— By the way, we still have a pending French lesson. — Wally looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

— Yeah… I don't think so. — Conner grabbed the redhead’s shoulder gently pulling him away from you and taking his place next to your side, you had awoken a small protective instinct in him. — Why don't we have some cake? — The Kryptonian asked you, hoping to draw your attention away from Wally.

— Cake? — You asked him a bit confused.

— Yes, cake. Have you ever tasted cake?

You shook your head, you didn't remember eating anything with that name. — I don't think so. What is it? What does it taste like? — You asked curiously as you intertwined your arm with Conner's arm.

A small chuckle slipped out of Superboy's lips when he saw how much you could get excited over a simple cake. — Well… — Before you knew it both of you were in the kitchen along with the rest of the team.

— Why don't you find out on your own? — Artemis asked holding out a slice of cake towards you, you looked at it for a moment, detached yourself from Conner's arm and held the dish in your hands, picked up a fork, and poked at the fluffy piece of cake taking a small bite to your lips.

As soon as you tasted it a little noise of happiness came out of you. — It's delicious! — The excitement emanating from you brought a few smiles to the team.

— M'gann always makes the best cakes. — Wally's words were barely audible due to the cake in his mouth, but the smiles of the entire team faded at the mention of M'gann.

You looked around, watching the faces of the whole team change to an expression of sadness, everyone was aware of the breakup between Conner and M'gann, it was something they all saw coming, yet they still were sorry for their friends. You didn't know, you didn't even know that the two of them were dating when you arrived, the whole team agreed not to tell you, after all, they all knew that Conner might have feelings for you, besides, it was none of his business to tell you or not.

— Where is she? — You asked, you had noticed her absence at the party, but you hadn't found the opportunity to ask about her.

— In her room, she wasn't feeling very well. — Kaldur replied, not sure if he should have said the last thing.

— Oh…I see. — You answered somewhat worried about M'gann.

The place was immersed into an uncomfortable silence for a couple of seconds, no one knew how to continue with the conversation, you could feel the sorrow of your teammates and now friends.

Fortunately, the silence ended with the loud sound of Robin clearing his throat earning the attention of all the team members, he looked at them with an inquisitive gaze trying to communicate something to them.

— Oh, the gift! — Wally shouted before leaving the room at super speed and returning with a nice gift box in his hands.

The whole team turned to you with a smile, the redhead held out the gift in front of you.

— Is this for me? — You asked stunned

— Of course it is. — Conner replied at your side, watching your reaction closely.

You carefully removed the cover of the box, a small gasp left your lips when you saw what was inside, carefully picking it up and looking at it with a huge smile on your face.

— We thought that now that you are part of the team you would need a suit. — Robin said pleased with your reaction to the gift. — Batman designed it to completely fit with your abilities and powers. — He smiled proudly showing off his mentor's work.

— It’s beautiful! — You hugged the beautiful suit to your chest unable to contain your excitement.

— Why don't you go and try it on? — Conner suggested. — You know, just to make sure it fits. — He added, blushing slightly.

[•••]

You left your room with your suit already on, a bright smile decorating your face, you walked down the hallway back to the kitchen, but your smile faded slightly as did your walk, you heard a couple of sobs coming from one of the rooms, you turned in that direction, it wasn't hard to guess who the cry was from, you approached, standing in front of M'gann's door.

The sound of her sobbing only got louder, you stood still for a moment, you didn't want to disturb her, but leaving her alone while she cried didn't make you feel good either, you knocked on the door's wood with your knuckles.

— ¿M’gann? ¿Are you okay? — As soon as the words left your lips the sobs ended.

A moment of silence followed. — Please leave me alone… — M'gann's broken voice came from the other side of the door.

— I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you… — You hesitated for a second. — I know how it feels to be sad and wants to be alone, but I also know how bad it feels to be sad and lonely. — You said remembering the lonely moments before you left Tamaran. — No one deserves that… — You remained silent, you had nothing more to say, but before you could leave the place, the door opened leaving you in front of M'gann.

You both looked at each other for a couple of seconds, you watched her eyes, they looked sad, dull, and swollen, you didn't even know why, but your first instinct was to go to her and put your arms around her. She returned the embrace, her sobs came back echoing down the hallway, she buried her face in your shoulder crying inconsolably just like you both had been friends for years.

M'gann wouldn't deny it, even though it wasn't like her, deep down she felt some resentment towards you, after all, you had stolen the heart of the one she loved, but she couldn't blame you, it's not like you had done it on purpose, besides, there was something about you, the way you acted, the innocence and wonder with which you explored the human world, you reminded her of herself when she came to earth. You, on the other hand, didn't know M'gann like the rest of the team, but you could sense a joyful and gentle soul in her.

She continued crying for a couple more minutes, her sobs fading until they completely disappeared and so did the weight of her head on your shoulder. Both pulled away from each other, M'gann brought her hands to her face and wiped away the traces of her tears.

— I'm sorry. — M'gann apologized, ashamed that you saw her in that way, you wanted to tell her not to worry, but she interrupted you before you could do it. — I thought your welcome party was today.

— It is. — You replied not wanting to lie to her.

— Oh, then I guess you'd better go. — She answered wrapping her arms around herself.

— Why don't you come? Maybe that will help you clear your head for a moment. — It was obvious that you didn't know what was going on, if you did you wouldn't have suggested that knowing that she would have to see Conner.

M'gann would have refused without hesitation, but right now, she didn't want to be alone, she didn't want to cry anymore, a sad little smile appeared on her lips. — I guess you're right.

You smiled at her and took her hand leading the way back with the others, as you approached the living room you could hear the laughter of your teammates, which ended as quickly as they saw you arrive with M'gann. As soon as she had the team in front of her took a step back feeling embarrassed. You squeezed her hand in encouragement and smiled cheerfully at her.

— I thought you would have space for one more. — She said shyly, suddenly feeling strange towards her friends.

The team shared a couple of glances and then smiled sweetly and approached to give her friend a warm welcome, except for Conner of course, who remained in his place somewhat uncomfortably but his eyes quickly caught your figure.

— Hey. — He said quietly approaching you. — I like the suit. — He looked you up and down, appreciating your new suit.

— Thanks! — You replied blushing at the compliment.

Conner's lips parted to say something else, but he was interrupted by the laughter of the team who were trying to cheer M'gann.

— Can we talk somewhere else? — It wasn't like Conner didn't want to be with the rest of the team, but he knew he wouldn't be comfortable joining the conversation with M'gann.

— Of course, maybe some fresh air would be good for us. — You interlocked your arm with Conner's and both of you walked towards the exit of Mount Justice through the zeta tube.

— Wow. — You said as you stood outside and looked up at the night sky. — It's that late? Time really flies by with you guys. — You sighed admiring the stars and enjoying the fresh air of Happy Harbor.

Your feet came slightly off the ground feeling the breeze hitting your skin, the sky could be seen reflected in your eyes making them look even more beautiful than they already were, or at least that's how it was for Conner. The Kryptonian looked at you, even though you had only met a few weeks ago, he felt connected to you, even though you were so different, he felt that in one way or another you were similar. His heart was racing at the sight of you, but his heart weakened a little when he saw the sad look in your eyes.

— What's wrong? — He asked, approaching you and lightly holding your hand.

You turned your gaze towards him, not bothering to hide your sadness, a small bitter chuckle leaked out of your lips.

— I came here to forget about Tamaran and start again, but even so, I can't stop thinking about it. — You lowered your head sadly, when you left your planet behind you didn't think you would miss it so much.

— And that's okay. — Conner gently held your waist with his hands and you wrapped his arms around his neck, maybe for many people that seemed like a very intimate touch but for you, it felt... Right. — You don't have to forget Tamaran, everything that happened there makes you who you are now. It's fine to want a new beginning, but you should never forget where you came from.

You listened carefully to Conner's words, and he was right, you didn't want to forget Tamaran, but you wished that someday you could remember it without feeling a stab of pain in your heart. Trying to distract yourself from those thoughts you looked down at Conner's chest noticing the symbol that had been there since you met him.

— What does it mean? — You asked curiously as one of your hands left his shoulder and moved to his chest.

— Hope. — A smile came to your face when you heard Conner's answer, remembering the hope that emerged in your life when he rescued you.

— It suits you… — You looked directly into his eyes, losing yourself again in that beautiful blue ocean, a cute smile formed on the Kryptonian's lips.

You left a small and tender kiss on the corner of his lips, the arms around your waist pressed you closer to him, your head rested on his shoulder, both of you remained like that, in the light of the night melted in each other's arms.

This was definitely the new beginning you were looking for.

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 6

Hannibal sits in on a regular conversation between y/n and her family. Y/n insists it could have gone worse.

⚠️Bigass trigger warning⚠️: Verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, blood, mention of alcohol abuse and suicide

Anna lived her life believing that she was the main character, constantly denying personhood to everyone around her. She was the romantic hero, and everyone else existed to forward her plot.

This metaphor was imperfect, however, because in all the books you'd read, the main character must overcome some kind of challenge. Nobody ever said no to Anna. Nobody ever criticized Anna. Nobody but you. So you were pigeonholed into the role of antagonist for it. You had to give her credit; growing up on the receiving end of her and Theresa's torture was a compelling villain origin story.

It was obvious that she only wanted you at her wedding to present her with an obstacle. Heaven forbid her story progress without some semblance of petty drama out of her control. She'd cornered you into a painful catch-22; you wanted vengeance, but you couldn't give her the satisfaction of having her special day ruined. What was your play? Ruin it just a little? Walk away?

These thoughts passed through your mind as you sat through the boring ceremony. You wanted to lean over and whisper everything to Hannibal, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. The vows seemed to drag on forever. Liam's English accent grated on your ears and you wished that he would just shut the hell up.

The ceremony concluded and you hoped to skip out on the reception with a purse full of mini cannolis, but fate had other plans. In a last-minute reach for some kind of scene, the blushing bride waved you over to the head table.

"[F/N]!" Anna shouted, with a big smile across her face. "Come on!"

You fought the urge to feel endeared by this. She looked too happy to be harmful. Your guard was all the way up as you and Hannibal approached the table.

Hannibal pulled a seat out for you while you studied Anna's expression. She fixed her doe eyes on Hannibal. You knew from experience that Anna had the same powerlust as grandma and Theresa. She was just better at keeping a lid on it.

"[F/N], you remember Liam?" Anna said, her voice brimming with excitement.

"Yeah." You nodded, scooting your chair up. "Nice to see you again, Liam."

"Good to see you again, too [F/N]."

"Liam is from Birmingham." She bragged, her smile somehow growing wider.

"Alabama?" You piped up before taking a drink from your water glass.

Every time you were forced to interact with Liam, she reminded you that the man with the strong and unmistakable English accent, was in fact from England. And every time, you slipped in the Alabama comment. It was never not funny.

"Liam, Anna," you said. "This is my fiance, Dr. Hannibal Lecter."

"Many congratulations to you two." Hannibal offered.

"Dr. Lecter, thank you so much for coming." Anna returned. "And thank you for taking such good care of our precious [F/N]. I hope she's not giving you too much trouble. She was quite a handful growing up, but we made it work."

"Don't flatter yourself, you're only four years older than me." You hide your passive-aggressive jab beneath a smile. "You can't take credit for a job you didn't do."

Grandma always thought Anna's protective, borderline maternal behavior towards you was adorable. Of course, it disgusted you. You were little more than an accessory to her. A baby doll she could simulate motherhood with. But, in fairness to her, that was all you were to the adult in the house too. Monkey see, monkey do.

"So have you two set a date yet?" Grandma interrupted your thoughts, just trying to keep the tension down.

"Goodness, no." Hannibal answered. "Ours is a long-term engagement."

"Yeah." You added. "Not until I finish school."

"Well, it's not my fault you aren't expected to graduate on time." Grandma said into her wine.

You tightened your grip on your water glass. "Well, changing your major halfway through will do that."

"I'm just saying," Grandma continued. Whenever she was 'just saying' anything, you knew she was raring to stir things up. "If you had just stayed the engineering track, you wouldn't have to keep Hannibal waiting."

"Well!" Anna cut in, offended that the attention was off her for more than a minute. "Liam and I waited until after college."

"Yes, Anna," Grandma said dismissively, before turning back to you. "Y'know, Dr. Lecter here could probably tell you that psychologically speaking, women are more likely to drop out of college and become strippers when they change their majors?"

Now it was Hannibal's turn to down his entire glass of wine. "Ms. [L/N], where did you get that information?"

"Oh, it was an article I found on Facebook." Grandma answered. "I'll have [F/N] send you a link."

"Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal cleared his throat. "Are you familiar with the concept of misinformation?"

"Of course." She looked offended at the implication that she could possibly not know something.

"See, social media websites like Facebook are inundated with misinformation campaigns." Hannibal explained. "Your claim is not rooted in any psychological fact."

"Yeah, also," You cut in. You scanned the area for escape routes if your attempt to change the subject went awry. "There's a wonderful documentary about how Facebook misinformation campaigns targeted rural counties in England leading up to the Brexit vote."

"Oh, we have a funny story about Brexit." Anna interrupted, taking the bait, hook line and sinker.

Before she could recount the same boring anecdote about being at some regional chain restaurant when the vote was cast, Theresa and her husband joined the table.

"Sorry we're late," Theresa sat down. "Damage control is a twenty-four hour job. What were we talking about?"

"Misinformation." Liam said.

"Perfect timing." You muttered.

"Finally, all three of my girls are together again." Grandma threw her head back and rejoiced. "When was the last time we all got together? Just us four girls, huh?"

"Remember the day before prom, we all went out go get manicures?" Anna reminisced. "And we took pictures of us all dressed up?"

"Oh I remember." You scanned the area for any alcohol to ingest.

"Oh, this is so funny." Grandma laughed hysterically. "Dr. Lecter, did you hear this story? [F/N] went to the prom with a boy who had all along been using her to get close to Theresa! They got together that night! Dated for two whole years after that."

"I've heard an iteration of it." He said, looking over his shoulder. He flagged down a waiter who was holding a bottle of champagne. "Leave the bottle, please."

"Don't drink too much, [F/N]." Anna scolded. "Save some alcohol for the rest of us."

You made sure to maintain eye contact with her as you filled your flute to capacity. "Grandma's paying, isn't she?"

"Anna, baby," Grandma said, rubbing her temples. "It's fine. Let [F/N] drink herself silly. It's a party, right?"

"Wow," Theresa sneered. You knew exactly what she was going to say next. "Like mother, like daughter."

Everyone at the table had enough decorum to recognize that Theresa went too far. You crushed the champagne flute in your grip, letting shards of glass dig into your skin. You glared at Theresa, blood oozing from your palm and dripping onto the white tablecloth.

Wordlessly, Hannibal removed the offending glass from your hand and swaddled the affected area in a napkin. He put pressure on the cut, letting the blood absorb into the cloth.

"Is this the famed '[L/N] woman telepathy'?" Liam whispered to Anna.

"No, [F/N] is just mad because her mother was a drunk who killed herself." Anna thought she was being inconspicuous.

"This has been fun." You stand up from the table. "Really. Great way to spend a Saturday."

"[F/N], sit down..." Grandma ordered, sounding exhausted. "You know Theresa didn't mean that."

"No." You said, each syllable out of her mouth pushing you a step closer to your breaking point. "Y'know what? No. I don't have to put up with this anymore. Anna, congratulations. I hope you and Liam have many long years together."

You turned around to exit as quietly as you could, Hannibal at your side. Your grandmother, who somehow hadn't hit her daily allotted dose of confrontation, wouldn't have it.

"Dr. Lecter, tell [F/N] she's being unreasonable." Grandma pleaded.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. In his long-spanning career, he'd never once met a person as tone-deaf as Beatrice [L/N]. He kept his quiet composure as he slowly approached the table.

"Beatrice," he said, beckoning her to lean in. He whispered something into her ear that left her stunned and quaking.

You could hear your grandmother's hysterical sobs growing softer as Hannibal hurried you out.

"Keep pressure on that cut, love." He instructed, talking over the increasingly loud shouts of agony from the head table. "You'll need a few stitches."

Once you were far enough from the venue, you had to ask. "What on earth did you say to her?"

"Nothing that you don't already know." He answered, facing forward.

[mha-adore]

hey! ty sm for doing the matchup exchange with me, i look forward to writing your match! i’m rita and i go by she/her pronouns. i have a preference for men & i’m 16. my quirk would be similar to shinso & inumaki from jjk,, i can control ppl and animals just by saying a command,,, an indicator for when i’m using my quirk would be my eyes changing color & a side effect to using my quirk would be getting light headed.

i’m a libra sun, aquarius moon, & leo rising. a slytherin & intj-t. i’m v polite and reserved when you first meet me. i’m pretty introverted and i have anxiety. it takes me while to open up since it takes me a while to trust ppl. i do tend to get annoyed and angry by others easily,, i’m a bit of a hot head. i’m pretty chill and like joking around once i open up,, i can also be kinda dumb. i’m a bit of a loner and i don’t have many friends. i’m actually a bit of an emotional person but only when it comes to shows, movies, books, etc,, i tend to keep my emotions bottled up. i’m self conscious and self critical. i care a lot about having perfect grades and getting into a good university but i’m so lazy (lots of breaks & procrastination) at the same time,, i end up getting everything done on time though. i’m impatient when it comes to my own things so i like doing things my way bc i feel more comfortable that way. i also like keeping things neat. i’ve also been told i have a resting sad face & that i’m intimidating. i wear a lot of black and i’d describe my style as dark academia mixed with 70s-90s fashion. when i’m at home i just wear comfortable clothing like pajama pants and a t-shirt.

my likes/hobbies/interests are baking, playing the sims, writing, and playing board games with ppl i’m close to. i also like relaxing in bed and spending time with people i’m close to and having fun. i’m interested in psychology, true crime, & history. i don’t like arrogant & closed minded people. i look for a partner who is loyal, kind, & open-minded. my love languages are gifts and quality time (both ways).

i hope this isn’t too much,, ty again! <3

Hey friend, it's my pleasure! Thanks sm for offering 💖

Can I just say super quick that your quirk is really cool? You could command an army of bears, raccoons or fire ants. I would be terrified. Also I'm an Aquarius moon and INTJ too, air moons gotta stay together. I totally got a Libra vibe off you when you first messaged me and you're super sweet 🎀 also I totally get you on the anxiety part, I have anxiety too. I know how terrifying it can be to reach out to new people so please know I'm proud of you for taking the chance to reach out to me 😊 and it's never too much; the more detail the better!

I match you with Shoto!

Say hi to the walking AC and heater unit. A couple reasons I picked him is because you mentioned having anxiety and being hot headed. With his father being, well, himself and his mother being the anxious person she is, Shoto understands both sides of the coin very well and knows how to deal with both parts. He can balance being calm and stern at the same time and he has the patience of a saint. He would give you the time and space you need to grow comfortable around new people and surroundings, as well he would be able to keep you grounded when your temper gets the best of you. He mellows you out. My personal headcanon is that he's a Capricorn sun, Scorpio moon, Virgo rising, Ravenclaw and INFP.

He returns your jokes with dry humor. He can keep a dead serious face while making the stupidest jokes too. He could look you dead in the eye, face straight, and rip a monster fart and not giggle just to see your reaction. Honestly the image of him holding eye contact while aggressively farting is funny in my head. I know I have the humor of a 9 year old.

He isn't bothered by you not having many friends. He's a private person and doesn't want a lot of people up in his business. He prefers few close friends over many distant friends. He knows you aren't stupid and pays no attention to anything you say that may sound dumb. He's heard so much dumb shit he learned to filter it from his brain.

He understands that you're closed off on your emotions. He really can't blame you, he's quite the same. If you get a little teary eyed over a book or movie he'll let you talk it out and cry if you'd like, but he won't push you to be uncomfortably open to him. He values your happiness over his own and doesn't mind you keeping your feelings to yourself. He respects your privacy. Regardless of what you may feel conscious or critical of about yourself he's there to remind you that you're perfect. You're healthy, you're strong and you're doing the best you can. No one could ask any more from you. He's lived a majority of his life feeling outcasted and ignored because of his scar and wouldn't wish the same on anyone, so if there's any part of you that you feel bad about he's always reminding you that you have no imperfections, everything about you makes you one of a kind. You're irreplicable.

He isn't worried about you procrastinating on studying or homework. As long as you get it done and do well enough he isn't concerned. If you ever have difficulty with a subject he's happy to help you study and learn. If you want he can ask Momo to join for a study party if you want the extra help or company. He just wants to see you succeed and get into the college of your cotton candy dreams. Oh and don't worry about your tuition, he has it covered. Don't even mention it to him it'll already be paid off, including books and living arrangements. He only wants you to pay him back by doing your best in school and showing him you can handle the hard work.

He always has a suggestion on ways you can do things but he knows you prefer to do them by yourself, so he'll neber bombard you with his ideas. If you ask for his input he has plenty to give but otherwise he gives you the room to make your own moves. He's a neat freak himself and is always happy to help you keep your room clean and well put together. He has good room decor ideas too if you want to spruce up your room.

He really doesn't see you as intimidating. He sees a confident, independent and strong young woman who can hold her own. He occasionally wonders if you're really sad or if that's just your expression and he'll occasionally ask. He's only making sure you're okay. If you're sad he's on it with a cute or funny movie, some snacks, a shoulder to cry on and a whole night's worth of stuff to talk about.

He likes your sense of fashion, he enjoys darker and warmer colors. He lives for the 80s aesthetic and loves to see you mix the two so effortlessly. He can, wants to and will give you his t shirts to wear at home. He'll also loan you hoodies and sweaters. He won't outright buy you a hoodie, he'll buy one for himself and let you get away with stealing it from him.

He's so soft for home made cookies and would love for you to make him some. Home made dinners are also great. He would love to help you bake and would enjoy baking dates. He'll also watch shows like Hell's Kitchen with you. He isn't exactly a huge gamer but he likes simulation games and RPGs like Sims, Animal Crossing, Pokemon, Harvest Moon etc. He'll binge these games with you all day and night. Your Sims have to get married to each other it's the law. He enjoys reading what you write - what you don't mind sharing of course. He won't go peeking in your personal writing, he knows it isn't his place. Concerning what you do share he'll read it with great interest and share his thoughts and any ideas he has. He would really enjoy writing something with you, like a short story or a comic. He loves how you convey your writing and would be honored to take part in it. His favorite board game is Candy Land, a close second being Monopoly, followed by Scrabble. He pulls out a big ass dictionary during Scrabble just to prove to people that he knows his vocabulary. He loves you dearly but all bets are off during Monopoly, it's a dog eat dog world and he isn't bailing you out of jail. He will, however, offer you real money in turn for properties in the game. No that isn't cheating the rules say nothing about it. He has no problem with a lazy day in bed though and wouldn't mind just dozing or watching shows together. Any time spent with you is time spent well. You two could watch paint dry together and he would have a blast. He'll buy the paint.

With his personal involvment in hero work he has lots of info on true crime cases and can share stories and books with you. He has everything from small robberies to Ted Bundy and beyond. If you have a question about a true crime case he has an answer. As for psychology I imagine he would study it himself, perhaps as a secondary career or freelance hobby. He'll examine characters from books and movies with you and run his own behavioral analysis unit from his bedroom. The FBI doesn't hold a candle to him. He can, will and already has tracked down your enemies and he has their addresses. With his father being the new number one hero he essentially has the force of the law in his hands and if need be, he will use it. He won't do anything unjust unless your safety is in jeopardy but he won't hesitate to bring someone down. As for history he has plenty of books ranging from founding of countries to wars, to major technological advancements to the invention of toilet paper. He knows some very niche history facts. If you need to impress a teacher with knowledge on history he has you covered. He'll make the teacher quit their job in shame.

Shoto is absolutely loyal to the end, open minded and kind to a fault. He understands how it's like to be ignored, misunderstood and bullied and he won't treat anyone else that way. Regardless of his opinion on someone he still gives them respect and kindness. He doesn't care how rude or petty someone acts, they're still a human and deserve to be treated as such.

He goes out of his way to buy you special gifts, he values personal meaning over monetary value. Between a basic cheap necklace and an expensive bracelet of your favorite gemstone and color, you bet he's going for the bracelet. The cost isn't important to him, he just wants to see your face light up when you open the gift. As for gifts from you he doesn't care about how much you spent, he just wants something from the heart. You could give him an origami swan that cost you nothing to make and he would treasure it like a rare antique. As for quality time, he always enjoys a good movie, board game, cuddle session or just a nap. Like I mentioned before, any time spent together is time spent well.

I hope you enjoyed this friend!! 🥀 I'll be sending my part your way soon, thanks again for the offer! I had a lot of fun with this one 😘

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (3/?)

A/n: this is a long chapter. Hope you guys like it. In this chapter I referenced @hoodoo12 fic Inked

Read Part 1, Part 2

________

Chapter 3: Do You?

"Are you having a good time?" he wondered as you were picking at your meal, and drawing faces in it.

"It's been pleasant enough." you admitted; shifting in your seat to sit up properly. "You've certainly made it easy on me."

You appreciated how the time passed so easily with the chemist's want and eagerness for conversation. He was well-spoken, and nothing lacked but whether it was you or your wandering mind, you had the feeling of wanting to go home; to relax on Rick's couch and watch a silly movie, but the night would go on. Intrigued by your earlier statement, V'gha studied you for a moment, not so unlike the way Zeta-7 would. Flexing his thick fingers, and smirking as though he had found the secrets of the universe and not intending on sharing it, he rested his chin on his now clasped hands."Would you care to elaborate?"

"Sure. I believe it's because, despite our differences, you're not so bad. I was worried that you were going to be overly serious, but it's been fun chatting with you."

"Well," he started, "I hope you won't be offended by me saying this, but I thought you were going to be more Neanderthal."

"You know," you giggled. "I get that a lot."

It never occurred to you to expect anything to really happen right now, but through half-lidded eyes, there were flecks of melancholy along with another emotion you couldn't quite detect. It passed quickly as light amusement colored his voice. "Is self-deprecating humor common among your kind? It doesn't matter. You nonetheless contain an intellect that I can only describe as affable. Are all humans this way?"

"I don't know, I can't speak for my kind, but I can speak for myself. I think in my case," You considered with seriousness, trying to refrain from sharing too many details. "it's what happens when you live as I do; close to a mad genius who enjoys his work as much as his garden. No really," you paused, playing around with your cloth napkin. "it's nothing special. I wish I could give you a highly detailed explanation, but I don't consider myself much of an intellectual. I do learn something new everyday. I think that counts for something."

Nodding in agreement, he made an attempt to consume his meal of fried klema paste, but could only manage a small bite as he too gave up on trying to believe it was halfway edible. "If I would've been in my lab, I could've shown you a recipe for a formula that attracts insectoids large enough to feed a family for a month. Even the bitter, old, beetletoids would taste better than what we've been served tonight."

You had a feeling that the meals were chosen by a machine that couldn't determine what would be better; pleasing the taste buds or feeding the vitamin deficiencies; it seemed to be the latter.

"I'm sad to tell you that I don't eat insects or insectoids. Though," you smiled. "I appreciate the sentiment. Where I'm from, you either love them or despise them. There isn't much of an in-between. For my part, I admire them. Like, there's these cute little guy's called roly-polys. They kind of look like little pills and they hang out in dead leaves and stuff. Oh, and don't even get me started on iridescent insects. They're just so beautiful, like living jewels. Too bad I don't have an eloquent explanation to give you."

"Do you mean to say that insectoids or insects as you refer to them, are minuscule creatures where you're from? How fascinating. And stranger still," he gestured at your outfit. "I was just thinking that you appear somewhat iridescent yourself."

He must've been referring to the sequins on your dress which were mildly reflective and multichromatic. "That was the point," you joked readily. "to look as though I could fly away at any moment. At least that's the story I'm sticking with, but don't tell anyone I left my private jet at home."

"Well, it does suit you. Has anyone told you that?"

If he meant either your dress, attitude, or both, then Rick had but you weren't going to tell him that. "No, but thank you."

"Really," he insisted. "I mean it. I…..I can't help but feel as though I know you." Leaning slightly forward, though not so much that it would violate the law, and squinting, he wondered. "Are you sure we haven't met before?"

The multiverse thing was another classified subject on the infinite list of what you weren't allowed to talk about. For all you knew, he might've met another version of yourself or met you in passing in your travels with Rick. "No, we haven't. Maybe I remind you of someone."

Realization struck him, and he dug around in his pockets and pulled out a blank white card. Laying it out on the table, he pressed the corner of it, and it produced a hologram; it was a Salamandrian with vibrant coloring and stripes that made you wonder if they glowed in the dark. "That's why I've been perplexed. You remind me of her; an old colleague of mine."

"She's beautiful."

"Yes, I thought so too. We used to work in the same lab together and were close to a breakthrough which could've assisted with premature aging which my species are prone to, but it wasn't meant to be. We ran out of funding and while working on another project, she collapsed. Before I knew it, she succumbed to rapid aging. Cha'thxa was amiable like yourself and loved to joke around. I believe that's why we were good friends."

"It's always the good ones. I'm sorry."

Replacing the card back into his pocket, he sobered. "It's alright. That was half a lifetime ago, but it's odd how events can trigger these recollections. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For these interactions of ours. It made me feel youthful."

What? Now that couldn't be right. If it hadn't been such an odd thing for him to say, you wouldn't have given a second thought to how he had spoken and carried himself. Really, you thought he was younger than yourself. "How old are you exactly? You don't look mature."

Taking a long sip of his beverage, he admitted with amusement. "Let's just say that the equivalent in human years is roughly 64.322 years old."

"What? No way. I wouldn't have ever guessed, but it shows what I know."

Though you weren't an expert on reptiles either, so how could you have known?

"Would it have really mattered? The only difference it would have made was perhaps in the way you would've treated me. I don't enjoy being treated as though I'm feeble-minded and will collapse at any moment."

"I promise, I wouldn't have."

"If only it were that simple. I've done the same, except I did the opposite and discriminated against someone far younger than I was and believed them foolish, but now that I've seen more of the world, and have familiarized myself with the universe through my travels and mostly through my studies, I realize how wrong I was. These days, I intend to live out the rest of my life to the fullest and to not be ashamed of it. And keeping in mind with that," he paused, ruminating on what he was about to ask. He continued. "I hope this isn't presumptuous of me to ask, but I'd love to invite you to my home planet." And with that winning, sharp-toothed smile, he explained. "Warm bodies are now allowed to visit and I would love to show you my dwelling. I believe you'd enjoy the view of the river. You seem to be the type that would never tire of good company."

It was a shame that he was such a fascinating creature, for you two might've been able to be good friends in a different life. "I do enjoy good company and most likely I would love the river, but under my current circumstances, I'm sorry to say it probably wouldn't be a good idea."

Calmly, he wondered. "Is it because of that human we saw a few hours ago is your mate?"

"Yes," you answered without hesitation. "I would consider him so."

"Forgive me then, for I didn't know, but I should have come to that conclusion." he remarked sheepishly. "You reek of him and your hormones changed every time I asked you about him."

"Look," you sighed, feeling a little embarrassed at the series of events which led up to this. "it's alright. I think it's the guidelines of this event that prevent us from being in each other's presence, but even if it's a crime, I wish he was here. I'm sorry if I acted out of place otherwise."

Giving you a wink, V'gha rose and gently took your hand; not only was it against the law, but against his character. You were going to pull away, but he said in Rick's voice. "Terminate simulation."

______

You removed the headset you had forgotten you were wearing. "Oh no, did I mess up again? Would I have died of food poisoning? Dysentery? I swear this is harder than the Oregon Trail."

"N-no, you did alright." he said at first, thoughtfully tapping at charts across his multiple screens set up. "Every time you were presented with a-a challenge, you followed the protocols and procedures just as you were instructed, but it's when you depart the ship which has my calculations going all over th-the place. Gosh, I now realize that it - it doesn't matter which of the guests are assigned as your companion. There is a 33.682% chance that they'd take a romantic interest in you, while there's only a 7% chance of you taking interest in them."

"Ricky, what in the world are you talking about?" You were sure that all of it was simply meant to be a learning experience and that none of it was real. However, considering it was meant to be a realistic simulation, the possibility of romance was there, despite how minimal the chances were. "I thought the reason we were going through the simulation was so that I wouldn't jeopardize the mission. Am I to understand that you don't want me to go because you discovered there's a small chance that a guest or two might fall for me?"

He scratched the back of his neck, wary to meet your questioning gaze. "Gee, I wouldn't have phrased it th-that way. I just....I-I don't like it."

"Oh my goodness," you couldn't help but exclaim. "Rick, are you jealous?"

It was always surprising when he was for it happened so rarely, and when it did you were more flattered then concerned. You continued. "I thought these scenarios always end the same way. You know I only want to be with you, even at the risk of my life. Why these aliens would take an interest in me, I'll never know, but it's cool that the people I'm assigned to are fascinating characters. Doesn't it prove that I'm ready for this mission? I kept the sharing of valuable information to a minimum, and I got along with mostly everyone."

"Gee, I don't know. Y-you're almost ready. However," he pointed at his computer screen. "there are anomalies in some of the earlier models which are concerning. In scenario 3, 7, and 15, the chances of my extermination were 18.475% because I-I allowed myself to get distracted from the mission. In scenarios 17, 19, and 25, there's such a minuscule change that we can forget them altogether. Yet, in the last five scenarios, especially this last simulation, it jumped to 42% and I ended it before things w-would've gone sour. Golly, studying the patterns between them all taught me that you're attractive t-t-to multiple species."

"What can I say, must be my animal magnetism." you teased as you wiggled your eyes brows.

Thoroughly worried, he sighed. "It appears so."

"Come on Ricky," you softened. "I'm only kidding. Listen, why don't you disguise yourself as V'gha, while one of your robot clones handles the mission? Out of all of them, V'gha was one of the nicest. We can knock him out temporarily."

"That could work, but that's highly risky."

"How so?"

"Because staying alive means I-I can't do this."

Wrapping an arm about your waist, the beginnings of a smile were taking place. "For this, I'd get my arms chopped off. It's due t-to the fact that centuries ago a war broke out from a single incident that occurred b-between two rivals who fought for the love of a Milleannos grounds protector whose sole purpose was to guard and tend to the bud that would never bloom in their lifetime. So, this kind of behavior between us is a big no-no. At least as non-royals of Petram Viridios IV." And pressing a kiss to your temple, he chuckled. "I don't know what'd happen to me if I did that, but I-I wouldn't want to find out."

"Do the inhabitants of that planet learn their traditions through tall tales?"

"I-I don't know, but it doesn't seem that far-fetched. It's um - it's possible that over time, they've needed t-to learn sets of skills in order to survive in the once harsh terrain, but seeing how they were able to preserve their culture for hundreds of thousands of years, they must be doing something right. Still, knowing all this, I-I doubt I could keep my cool and stay away from you. Apparently, the simulations tell me the same thing."

"In that case," you softened. "I might have to remove myself from this mission. After all, I don't want you to think I'm trying to woo a few strangers."

"Boy, I-I didn't mean it t-t-to sound that way."

"Of course not, but you told me the truth. And you're entitled to it in some respects. Though, while you spoke of data and calculations, you didn't ask me how I felt. Why not dear? I'm not ashamed to tell you."

Yet, he seemed ashamed to ask. "Did - did you feel anything?"

Smoothing out the lines about his mouth and eyes with your fingers, you confessed. "I felt flattered by their attention, and their company wasn't that bad. I felt……well, like a person in society, who meets and meets dozens of people, and only really takes interest when the conversation is somewhat comfortable and familiar, but I wanted you there to enjoy it too. " Pointing towards the monitors, you continued." If you take a closer look at the data on my brain waves, changes of hormones, and heart rate, then you'll see where my mind and heart truly was. In nearly all of them, I saw parts of you. Not so much physically, but there were personality traits that were so much like your own, I almost didn't feel so lonely. Yet, I never stopped searching for you in them, and in the world around me, in silence, in smiles over knowings, and in reminiscences, hoping you would come and could be in my reach."

Resting his hand atop yours, he sighed. "Th-that explains a few things."

"Does it? I know you were watching as it played out. And don't think I didn't know what you did this time around. I know it was you on that stage, veiled, and far away. Was that also part of the simulation? It…it felt so real. Somehow our souls were closer then they'd ever been."

"I added the possibility of being asked t-to play the Tremen orb bush. When played, it does induce a trance-like state, but during that part of the simulation, I-I tried to keep you calm because y-you were in the beginning stages of a panic attack."

It must've been because of the claustrophobic feeling of being in a chamber. So you hadn't been alone. "Dear, did you hold me and keep me safe?"

"In a manner of speaking. Y-you weren't in any immediate danger, but I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable. So I - I moved my chair over, held your soft hands," he confessed shyly. "and talked to you for a little while. It must've helped for soon enough your vital signs were back to normal."

Yes, he was that sort of man; the kind who'd want to take care of you, and make sure you're alright; who'd give up a day in his garden to spend a dozen ensuring that within dreams you'd live to see another. What did you ever do to deserve him?

"I see. You know Rick, despite not bringing it up, I'm sorry that I had to pretend not to know you."

"That's okay."

He understood, way too easily did he understand. Digital planes with hundreds of foreign figures, blades of grass duplicated to fill in spaces, dreamland feelings which were wisps of real ones, he withstood them all. Slipping in and out of realities were preparations for the real tests which had and would continue to come your way. You admired his fortitude because till now he's dealt with the hardships incurred purposely and accidentally.

"Even if it was potentially part of the mission, and you knew I had to do it, it didn't feel good. How….how could I hide the fact that I have such a wonderful friend? You've been one of the dearest, closest friends that I've ever had."

Leaning down, he touched your forehead with his; releasing a breath you didn't know he had been holding. "El mayor - el mayor obstáculo para el amor es… es el temor s-secreto de no ser dignos de ser amados."

"But you are worthy." you reassured him.

"So I am." he accepted.

"Dear, in trying to protect what we have, lying was necessary. Yet, I don't want to pretend that we aren't anything. I love you too much to do that. I don't have any sign or mark of belonging to anyone, and that could've been one of the reasons there were misunderstandings. With V'gha and the others, I was only being friendly."

"I-I know."

"Even if you know, I'm still going to remind you." Resting a hand on his chest, his nervous heart seemed to dance. "Underneath my hand, lies the kind heart of an emotional, passionate genius, and I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world."

Holding you a fraction tighter, his breath ghosted your cheek. "Really?"

"Mhm."

"Can I-I tell you something?"

"Yeah?"

"Everyday with you is better than the last. If we lived on Venus," he chuckled. "our days would've been 5,832 hours long. That's th-the equivalent of 243 Earth days."

"That's a long time. Hmm," you sighed, relishing in the nearness of him; breathing in the scent which wafted off his sweater and labcoat. You thought to yourself, this is how it should always be. "I wish I could've been born sooner so you wouldn't have had to be lonely. If I could've done that much, I would've been able to repay you. Still, despite my disbelief about our relationship at times, it's one of the reasons I carry the necklace. You know, the one you had given me on that memorable day that you were…" you paused as you felt him sag into himself, pulling away from you slightly as though he were ashamed. You continued on. "on that day when those Guard Ricks came because you were needed on the citadel. I regret that I put you through so much stress that day, but I'm glad you don't resent me for it." Pulling out the necklace, you couldn't help but tear up a little. "I look at this beautiful gift every time I need to be reminded that you always believed in me, adored me, and was part of your world."

"Y-you're not part of it, you are my world."

"And you are mine. There's no way I'll ever forget you."

Though, there was a chance you could or that he could have your memories erased; there were things you weren't supposed to know, but did. There had been stranger cases before, and just in case, you had made copies of your memories. "Why, if you ever have to use that memory eraser thing on me or on yourself, I promise I'll remember for the both of us. So please," you urged, giving him a half-impatient, half-loving shake. "don't think that what we have is so easily broken, because I love you and believe in what we are together."

Neither of you spoke for a while after that, but he gave your hands a good squeeze when he came to a resolution. "What if….what if I gave you a sign?"

"I'd think of an Ace Of Base song," you lightly teased. "and then I'd wonder what you could mean."

Rubbing your back, he said above a whisper. "I mean t-t-t-to say, do you…..¿Quieres casarte?"

"What? Did you just…can you repeat that?"

"D-do you want to get married?"

Pulling away from him, you wondered. "Wait, is this real?"

He nodded. "Y-yes."

"And I'm not in a lotus-eater machine right?"

Smoothing out your hair, he confessed. "N-no, I hope not."

After spending days going through multiple simulations, it was easy to assume that everything wasn't real, and was still part of another simulation within a simulation. You pinched yourself and saw that everything was in place. It's not that you weren't happy, it was just that this was a surprise you hadn't been expecting. For his part, he studied you and found that he liked what he saw and pulled out a little box. "I had wanted the moment t-to be perfect, but I don't think that's possible. I can't…..I don't want to be without you anymore."

"I think I need to sit down for this."

Leading you over to the computer chair, you took a seat while he stood before you; antsy and ready to confess. "Mi corazón, I have wanted to do this for so long, but I - I was too afraid t-t-to ask. I think now, I finally can."

Removing his labcoat, and setting it down, he pushed up the sleeve of his sweater; displaying the tattoo he had gotten a few years ago; a single sunflower with such detail it almost looks three dimensional. If it weren’t for the curve of his arm, it would appear that he took the bloom, shrunk it down, and simply laid it on his inner forearm. "When I got this, I wanted something as beautiful as you with me, always, and - and sunflowers are your favorite. You told me they were the epitome of happiness."

You nodded. "My best memories are associated with them."

"I suppose that still holds true, so I'm going to put my faith in that. To explain, I would like to tell you a few things concerning happiness. Everyday I-I go to work, I look forward to the moment I get to see you when I return. Though, when I come home, and the house is quiet, it's easy to remember that I live alone. However, when I see that the pillows have been rearranged in a way I um - in a way I hadn't left them, or find a mug in the sink, or piles of books that hadn't been read yet, I know I'm not alone; that y-you've been here. Gosh," he sniffled, doing his best not to cry. "when I see your sleeping figure on the couch or in the hammock outside, I think to myself that I want this t-t-to be my life. T-to be our life. You're what's missing in th-the equation to my happiness. When I met you, it's like the sun finally came out and I could finally bloom. We might carry bits of - of happiness, but I-I feel incomplete without you by my side. And I think y-you feel the same."

Taking hold of your left hand, he kissed it and his voice was colored with happiness again. In earnest, he wondered. "So, my beautiful little sunflower, as far as getting married is concerned, do you - do you want to?"

Tbc

[curiouswritinggarden]

The Excuse

I am late for work! Late! Late! Late! Of all the nights to eat cheap fried rice, why did it have to be last night, I think to myself as I start the car. Eating Lee’s authentic Chinese special fried burger rice always knocked me out with fever dreams. I cringe while remembering the crazy dream about claymation Komodo dragons. Oof, I took two red lights. Hopefully I can get to the time clock before my boss notices. I finally arrive at the office building. I slam my car door shut and run through the crowded parking lot. There is only enough time to shout a frantic, “Good morning!” to the lobby’s receptionist before skidding into a closing elevator.

I take a second to catch my breath. The memory of the clay lizards whispering, “mould our faces,” creeps back into my mind. I shake my head to get rid of the weird thoughts and notice my hair is sticking out at weird angles. Great, just great, nothing says late like lopsided bedhead, I think as a try to smooth down my frizzy hair.

The elevator dings at my floor. I poke my head out of the sliding doors. The reception area is empty. The time clock gently ticks on the wall behind the welcome desk. A smug smile spreads across my face. No witnesses, perfect! I can’t believe the welcome room is empty. I speed tiptoe toward the time clock.

“You’re late.”

I jump and muffle a shriek. Slowly, I turn to face my boss, Mr. Borgman, with the most professional smile I can muster. Mr. Borgman is a tall, stern man infamously known for firing tardy employees in the office. He walks up behind me and adjusts his dark blue neck tie with the patience of a priest.

“Twenty-five minutes and thirty seconds late, Ms. Rubin,” he says as his eyes flicker to the clock and back to me. “I hope the extra sleep prepared you to welcome the clients scheduled this afternoon. You’re lucky none of them had the decency to come in early.” He regards me with a disapproving look as he passes judgement on my wicked bedhead. “Even though you are the, I assume, proud receptionist of Sleepy Time Pillows Inc., the company does not endorse sleeping in on work days.”

“There’s no reason why you deserve more sleep than the rest of our employees. Many of our workers perform outstandingly with the standard seven to eight hours of sleep every night.”

He leans down toward me, “Why should I make an exception for you?”

I crane my neck upwards as he looms over me. My smile dissolves into a sheepish smirk.

Why did my boss eat a mountain of calcium as a kid?

Taking a deep breath in, I squeeze out my words in a whisper, “I can explain sir, if you just give me a few minutes of your time.”

“You have taken more than enough time from me and the company already,” he says curtly. Then, with the grace of a confessor, his gaze shifts from judging to challenging. “But I would love to hear you try and talk your way out of this rather, sticky situation.”

He nods, in a merciful way, and eyes the time clock again, “I’ll even give you one minute to gather your thoughts.”

“Thank you sir,” I say meekly. A minute, huh? How am I going to come up with an excuse in a minute? Mr. Borgman is notorious for following the paper trails of his employees. If any employee was truly sick, he wanted them to show symptoms, have paperwork, and even a call from the doctor that treated them. He showed the same ruthless efficiency when family emergencies came up too.

How Jerry wasn’t fired after he faked his father’s own funeral is beyond me. Wait..That’s it! Jerry wasn’t fired, even after impersonating his allegedly dead father in an open casket funeral! It was proof there was a funny bone in my bosses’ thin skeleton figure. I just need to come up with a story wild enough to make him laugh, or at least crack a less sinister smile. I glance at him. His smile is relaxed yet all his teeth are showing. “Thirty more seconds, Ms. Rubin,” he says.

I rack my brain for any idea. Mould our faces, a slithery voice whispers. The dream, of course! I straighten my stance and channel all of my customer service calmness into my voice.

“There is a perfectly logical explanation of why I am late today Mr. Borgman. You see, yesterday I visited the Wynken, Blynken, and Nod Sleep Center in the hopes of convincing them to test if our Sleepy Time Pillows could improve sleep. They told me the lab would be interested, but first I would need to register with the center. As a requirement I had to volunteer in a sleep study.”

He raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

“They told me the study would monitor sleep patterns of the average adult. Not wanting to waste any time, I volunteered for the sleep study last night. Unfortunately, my volunteer papers got mixed up and I was mistaken for a participant in a different study. At least, that’s what they told me, afterward.”

Pausing, I sigh and shake my head slowly, “What I’m about to say is going to sound crazy, but it’s all true. So please, do not interrupt me.”

He nods, “Alright, you may continue.”

“Last night during the, supposed, sleep study I was taken to a monitoring room. They gave me a glass of water and told me I had to drink it as part of the study. So I drank it and fell asleep mid-yawn. The next thing I knew I woke up in a room designed to look like a flower meadow.”

My boss scowls in confusion. He tries to interrupt me, but I cut in.

“Yes, I know it sounds insane, but that is what happened. I woke up in a room made to look like a flower meadow. The walls were painted sky blue and there was green shag carpeting with silk daisies stapled in place. I should know, I yanked a bunch of the fake flowers out of the carpet and cut my foot on the staple. I was confused and stumbled back into a painted wall. Then the wall spun around and I was in a night club. There were loads of people wearing glow-in-the-dark shirts in that crowded room. All of them were dancing to rave music with a heavy base. I was disoriented and kept bumping into dancers. I felt like I was in a human pinball machine and I was the pinball. Suddenly, someone pushed me out the door of the night club and into a different room. The new room looked like a kindergarten classroom…”

As I continue on my long tale, I describe myself walking in and out of dozens of strange rooms. Some with balloons in them, others filled with hedgehogs, but all of the rooms were wacky and left me feeling more befuddled than ever. I glance at my boss and see that my story has the same bewildering effect on him. His eyes are scrunched up in confusion, his mouth is open in a lopsided scowl, and his head is cocked to the side. I decide to wrap it up when it looks like his face is going to flip to a 180 degree angle.

“…And it was just when I was running out of the trampoline bug room that I was face to face with a pair of giant claymation Komodo dragons. They were hissing at me, ‘Mould our faces,’ when I lost the last shred of my sanity and ripped the lizard’s head off. I was screaming, ‘Ok, I’ll shape your faces!!’ when a buzzer sounded and over-head lights came on. People in lab coats walked into the room. They told me to calm down, which is hard to do when you are confused beyond belief and clutching a dislocated clay lizard head. They explained that all the rooms were part of an experiment. The scientists were testing to see how people would react to dreamscapes when they were fully awake. They placed me and other test subjects in a maze filled with bizarre things to simulate a dream landscape. I was shocked and yelled at them. I had only volunteered to do a regular sleep study, not be a guinea pig for a bunch of quacks. I collected my personal effects, went back home to change, and then raced over here to start my work day.”

Mr. Borgman stands very still in the waiting room. It takes him half a minute for him to blink. He reaches slowly into his pocket; perhaps to hand me a pink slip. Instead of termination papers, he takes out a moleskin notebook and writes for over 5 minutes. Then he closes the notebook and says, “Well, your excuse is going right at the top, along with Jerry Barton faking his father’s death, as the craziest late excuse I’ve ever heard.”

I gulp, “Does this mean I’m not fired, sir?”

He gives me a satisfied smile. “I should hope not Ms. Rubin, we need you on our ad campaign team. Someone with your creativity is needed to help us sell our pillows. I believe your excuse would make an excellent advertisement for our company.”

My sigh of relief is cut off as he talks to me again.

“However Ms. Rubin, do not come in late again or I will truly fire you.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he walks into the office, he laughs softly to himself. “Mould our faces, indeed,” he chuckles.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hey there! So this short story is based off a writing prompt from Writer’s Digest’s Year of Writing Prompts.   Specifically, March 4th’s prompt: You’re late for work because you overslept, but your boss hates over-sleepers. He does love entertaining stories, though, so create the most outlandish excuse as to why you were late.  Writing this was a lot of fun! The most difficult part was creating the actual excuse. I needed a scenario that sounded crazy, but real enough so that it would sound believable. The idea finally came to me when I thought of the company my main character worked for, Sleepy Time Pillows. After figuring out the name, everything else in the story fell into place.

Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed the story! :D

[alittlelessdemocracy]

Chapter 22

Excerpt from Robert Jay Lifton’s excellent book Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism:

A discussion of what is most central in the thought reform environment can lead us to a more general consideration of the psychology of human zealotry. For in identifying, on the basis of this study of thought reform, features common to all expressions of ideological totalism, I wish to suggest a set of criteria against which any environment may be judged - a basis for answering the ever-recurring question: "Isn't this just like 'brainwashing'?"

These criteria consist of eight psychological themes which are predominant within the social field of the thought reform milieu. Each has a totalistic quality; each depend upon an equally absolute philosophical assumption; and each mobilizes certain individual emotional tendencies, mostly of a polarizing nature. In combination they create an atmosphere which may temporarily energize or exhilarate, but which at the same time poses the gravest of human threats.

1. Milieu Control

The most basic feature of the thought reform environment, the psychological current upon which all else depends, is the control of human communication. Through this milieu control the totalist environment seeks to establish domain over not only the individual's communication with the outside (all that he sees and hears, reads or writes, experiences, and expresses), but also - in its penetration of his inner life - over what we may speak of as his communication with himself. It creates an atmosphere uncomfortably reminiscent of George Orwell's 1984.

Such milieu control never succeeds in becoming absolute, and its own human apparatus can - when permeated by outside information - become subject to discordant "noise" beyond that of any mechanical apparatus. To totalist administrators, however, such occurrences are no more than evidences of "incorrect" use of the apparatus. For they look upon milieu control as a just and necessary policy, one which need not be kept secret: thought reform participants may be in doubt as to who is telling what to whom, but the fact that extensive information about everyone is being conveyed to the authorities is always known. At the center of this self-justification is their assumption of omniscience, their conviction that reality is their exclusive possession. Having experienced the impact of what they consider to be an ultimate truth (and having the need to dispel any possible inner doubts of their own), they consider it their duty to create an environment containing no more and no less than this "truth." In order to be the engineers of the human soul, they must first bring it under full observational control.

2. Mystical Manipulation

The inevitable next step after milieu control is extensive personal manipulation. This manipulation assumes a no-holds-barred character, and uses every possible device at the milieu's command, no matter how bizarre or painful. Initiated from above, it seeks to provoke specific patterns of behavior and emotion in such a way that these will appear to have arisen spontaneously, directed as it is by an ostensibly omniscient group, must assume, for the manipulated, a near-mystical quality.

Ideological totalists do not pursue this approach solely for the purpose of maintaining a sense of power over others. Rather they are impelled by a special kind of mystique which not only justifies such manipulations, but makes them mandatory. Included in this mystique is a sense of "higher purpose," of having "directly perceived some imminent law of social development," and of being themselves the vanguard of this development. By thus becoming the instruments of their own mystique, they create a mystical aura around the manipulating institutions - the Party, the Government, the Organization. They are the agents "chosen" (by history, by God, or by some other supernatural force) to carry out the "mystical imperative," the pursuit of which must supersede all considerations of decency or of immediate human welfare. Similarly, any thought or action which questions the higher purpose is considered to be stimulated by a lower purpose, to be backward, selfish, and petty in the face of the great, overriding mission. This same mystical imperative produces the apparent extremes of idealism and cynicism which occur in connection with the manipulations of any totalist environment: even those actions which seem cynical in the extreme can be seen as having ultimate relationship to the "higher purpose."

At the level of the individual person, the psychological responses to this manipulative approach revolve about the basic polarity of trust and mistrust. One is asked to accept these manipulations on a basis of ultimate trust (or faith): "like a child in the arms of its mother." He who trusts in this degree can experience the manipulations within the idiom of the mystique behind them: that is, he may welcome their mysteriousness, find pleasure in their pain, and feel them to be necessary for the fulfillment of the "higher purpose" which he endorses as his own. But such elemental trust is difficult to maintain; and even the strongest can be dissipated by constant manipulation.

When trust gives way to mistrust (or when trust has never existed) the higher purpose cannot serve as adequate emotional sustenance. The individual then responds to the manipulations through developing what I shall call the psychology of the pawn. Feeling himself unable to escape from forces more powerful than himself, he subordinates everything to adapting himself to them. He becomes sensitive to all kinds of cues, expert at anticipating environmental pressures, and skillful in riding them in such a way that his psychological energies merge with the tide rather than turn painfully against himself. This requires that he participate actively in the manipulation of others, as well as in the endless round of betrayals and self-betrayals which are required.

But whatever his response - whether he is cheerful in the face of being manipulated, deeply resentful, or feels a combination of both - he has been deprived of the opportunity to exercise his capacities for self-expression and independent action.

3. The Demand for Purity

In the thought reform milieu, as in all situations of ideological totalism, the experiential world is sharply divided into the pure and the impure, into the absolutely good and the absolutely evil. The good and the pure are of course those ideas, feelings, and actions which are consistent with the totalist ideology and policy; anything else is apt to be relegated to the bad and the impure. Nothing human is immune from the flood of stern moral judgments. All "taints" and "poisons" which contribute to the existing state of impurity must be searched out and eliminated.

The philosophical assumption underlying this demand is that absolute purity is attainable, and that anything done to anyone in the name of this purity is ultimately moral. In actual practice, however, no one is really expected to achieve such perfection. Nor can this paradox be dismissed as merely a means of establishing a high standard to which all can aspire. Thought reform bears witness to its more malignant consequences: for by defining and manipulating the criteria of purity, and then by conducting an all-out war upon impurity, the ideological totalists create a narrow world of guilt and shame. This is perpetuated by an ethos of continuous reform, a demand that one strive permanently and painfully for something which not only does not exist but is in fact alien to the human condition.

At the level of the relationship between individual and environment, the demand for purity creates what we may term a guilty milieu and a shaming milieu. Since each man's impurities are deemed sinful and potentially harmful to himself and to others, he is, so to speak, expected to expect punishment - which results in a relationship of guilt and his environment. Similarly, when he fails to meet the prevailing standards in casting out such impurities, he is expected to expect humiliation and ostracism - thus establishing a relationship of shame with his milieu. Moreover, the sense of guilt and the sense of shame become highly-valued: they are preferred forms of communication, objects of public competition, and the basis for eventual bonds between the individual and his totalist accusers. One may attempt to simulate them for a while, but the subterfuge is likely to be detected, and it is safer to experience them genuinely.

People vary greatly in their susceptibilities to guilt and shame, depending upon patterns developed early in life. But since guilt and shame are basic to human existence, this variation can be no more than a matter of degree. Each person is made vulnerable through his profound inner sensitivities to his own limitations and to his unfulfilled potential; in other words, each is made vulnerable through his existential guilt. Since ideological totalists become the ultimate judges of good and evil within their world, they are able to use these universal tendencies toward guilt and shame as emotional levers for their controlling and manipulative influences. They become the arbiters of existential guilt, authorities without limit in dealing with others' limitations. And their power is nowhere more evident than in their capacity to "forgive."

The individual thus comes to apply the same totalist polarization of good and evil to his judgments of his own character: he tends to imbue certain aspects of himself with excessive virtue, and condemn even more excessively other personal qualities - all according to their ideological standing. He must also look upon his impurities as originating from outside influences - that is, from the ever-threatening world beyond the closed, totalist ken. Therefore, one of his best way to relieve himself of some of his burden of guilt is to denounce, continuously and hostilely, these same outside influences. The more guilty he feels, the greater his hatred, and the more threatening they seem. In this manner, the universal psychological tendency toward "projection" is nourished and institutionalized, leading to mass hatreds, purges of heretics, and to political and religious holy wars. Moreover, once an individual person has experienced the totalist polarization of good and evil, he has great difficulty in regaining a more balanced inner sensitivity to the complexities of human morality. For these is no emotional bondage greater than that of the man whose entire guilt potential - neurotic and existential - has become the property of ideological totalists.

4. The Cult of Confession

Closely related to the demand for absolute purity is an obsession with personal confession. Confession is carried beyond its ordinary religious, legal, and therapeutic expressions to the point of becoming a cult in itself. There is the demand that one confess to crimes one has not committed, to sinfulness that is artificially induced, in the name of a cure that is arbitrarily imposed. Such demands are made possible not only by the ubiquitous human tendencies toward guilt and shame but also by the need to give expression to these tendencies. In totalist hands, confession becomes a means of exploiting, rather than offering solace for, these vulnerabilities.

The totalist confession takes on a number of special meanings. It is first a vehicle for the kind of personal purification which we have just discussed, a means of maintaining a perpetual inner emptying or psychological purge of impurity; this purging milieu enhances the totalists' hold upon existential guilt. Second, it is an act of symbolic self-surrender, the expression of the merging of individual and environment. Third, it is a means of maintaining an ethos of total exposure - a policy of making public (or at least known to the Organization) everything possible about the life experiences, thoughts, and passions of each individual, and especially those elements which might be regarded as derogatory.

The assumption underlying total exposure (besides those which relate to the demand for purity) is the environment's claim to total ownership of each individual self within it. Private ownership of the mind and its products - of imagination or of memory - becomes highly immoral. The accompanying rationale (or rationalization) is familiar, the milieu has attained such a perfect state of enlightenment that any individual retention of ideas or emotions has become anachronistic.

The cult of confession can offer the individual person meaningful psychological satisfactions in the continuing opportunity for emotional catharsis and for relief of suppressed guilt feelings, especially insofar as these are associated with self-punitive tendencies to get pleasure from personal degradation. More than this, the sharing of confession enthusiasms can create an orgiastic sense of "oneness," of the most intense intimacy with fellow confessors and of the dissolution of self into the great flow of the Movement. And there is also, at least initially, the possibility of genuine self-revelation and of self-betterment through the recognition that "the thing that has been exposed is what I am."

But as totalist pressures turn confession into recurrent command performances, the element of histrionic public display takes precedence over genuine inner experience. Each man becomes concerned with the effectiveness of his personal performance, and this performance sometimes comes to serve the function of evading the very emotions and ideas about which one feels most guilty - confirming the statement by one of Camus' characters that "authors of confessions write especially to avoid confessing, to tell nothing of what they know." The difficulty, of course, lies in the inevitable confusion which takes place between the actor's method and his separate personal reality, between the performer and the "real me."

In this sense, the cult of confession has effects quite the reverse of its ideal of total exposure: rather than eliminating personal secrets, it increases and intensifies them. In any situation the personal secret has two important elements: first, guilty and shameful ideas which one wishes to suppress in order to prevent their becoming known by others or their becoming too prominent in one's own awareness; and second, representations of parts of oneself too precious to be expressed except when alone or when involved in special loving relationships formed around this shared secret world. Personal secrets are always maintained in opposition to inner pressures toward self-exposure. The totalist milieu makes contact with these inner pressures through its own obsession with the expose and the unmasking process. As a result old secrets are revived and new ones proliferate; the latter frequently consist of resentments toward or doubts about the Movement, or else are related to aspects of identity still existing outside of the prescribed ideological sphere. Each person becomes caught up in a continuous conflict over which secrets to preserve and which to surrender, over ways to reveal lesser secrets in order to protect more important ones; his own boundaries between the secret and the known, between the public and the private, become blurred. And around one secret, or a complex of secrets, there may revolve an ultimate inner struggle between resistance and self-surrender.

Finally, the cult of confession makes it virtually impossible to attain a reasonable balance between worth and humility. The enthusiastic and aggressive confessor becomes like Camus' character whose perpetual confession is his means of judging others: "[I]…practice the profession of penitent to be able to end up as a judge…the more I accuse myself, the more I have a right to judge you." The identity of the "judge-penitent" thus becomes a vehicle for taking on some of the environment's arrogance and sense of omnipotence. Yet even this shared omnipotence cannot protect him from the opposite (but not unrelated) feelings of humiliation and weakness, feelings especially prevalent among those who remain more the enforced penitent than the all-powerful judge.

5. The "Sacred Science"

The totalist milieu maintains an aura of sacredness around its basic dogma, holding it out as an ultimate moral vision for the ordering of human existence. This sacredness is evident in the prohibition (whether or not explicit) against the questioning of basic assumptions, and in the reverence which is demanded for the originators of the Word, the present bearers of the Word, and the Word itself. While thus transcending ordinary concerns of logic, however, the milieu at the same time makes an exaggerated claim of airtight logic, of absolute "scientific" precision. Thus the ultimate moral vision becomes an ultimate science; and the man who dares to criticize it, or to harbor even unspoken alternative ideas, becomes not only immoral and irreverent, but also "unscientific." In this way, the philosopher kings of modern ideological totalism reinforce their authority by claiming to share in the rich and respected heritage of natural science.

The assumption here is not so much that man can be God, but rather that man's ideas can be God: that an absolute science of ideas (and implicitly, an absolute science of man) exists, or is at least very close to being attained; that this science can be combined with an equally absolute body of moral principles; and that the resulting doctrine is true for all men at all times. Although no ideology goes quite this far in overt statement, such assumptions are implicit in totalist practice.

At the level of the individual, the totalist sacred science can offer much comfort and security. Its appeal lies in its seeming unification of the mystical and the logical modes of experience (in psychoanalytic terms, of the primary and secondary thought processes). For within the framework of the sacred science, and sweeping, non-rational "insights." Since the distinction between the logical and the mystical is, to begin with, artificial and man-made, an opportunity for transcending it can create an extremely intense feeling of truth. But the posture of unquestioning faith - both rationally and non-rationally derived - is not easy to sustain, especially if one discovers that the world of experience is not nearly as absolute as the sacred science claims it to be.

Yet so strong a hold can the sacred science achieve over his mental processes that if one begins to feel himself attracted to ideas which either contradict or ignore it, he may become guilty and afraid. His quest for knowledge is consequently hampered, since in the name of science he is prevented from engaging in the receptive search for truth which characterizes the genuinely scientific approach. And his position is made more difficult by the absence, in a totalist environment, of any distinction between the sacred and the profane: there is no thought or action which cannot be related to the sacred science. To be sure, one can usually find areas of experience outside its immediate authority; but during periods of maximum totalist activity (like thought reform) any such areas are cut off, and there is virtually no escape from the milieu's ever-pressing edicts and demands. Whatever combination of continued adherence, inner resistance, or compromise co-existence the individual person adopts toward this blend of counterfeit science and back-door religion, it represents another continuous pressure toward personal closure, toward avoiding, rather than grappling with, the kinds of knowledge and experience necessary for genuine self-expression and for creative development.

6. Loading the Language

The language of the totalist environment is characterized by the thought-terminating cliché. The most far-reaching and complex of human problems are compressed into brief, highly reductive, definitive-sounding phrases, easily memorized and easily expressed. These become the start and finish of any ideological analysis. In [Chinese Communist] thought reform, for instance, the phrase "bourgeois mentality" is used to encompass and critically dismiss ordinarily troublesome concerns like the quest for individual expression, the exploration of alternative ideas, and the search for perspective and balance in political judgments. And in addition to their function as interpretive shortcuts, these cliches become what Richard Weaver has called "ultimate terms" : either "god terms," representative of ultimate good; or "devil terms," representative of ultimate evil. In [Chinese Communist] thought reform, "progress," "progressive," "liberation," "proletarian standpoints" and "the dialectic of history" fall into the former category; "capitalist," "imperialist," "exploiting classes," and "bourgeois" (mentality, liberalism, morality, superstition, greed) of course fall into the latter. Totalist language then, is repetitiously centered on all-encompassing jargon, prematurely abstract, highly categorical, relentlessly judging, and to anyone but its most devoted advocate, deadly dull: in Lionel Trilling's phrase, "the language of nonthought."

To be sure, this kind of language exists to some degree within any cultural or organizational group, and all systems of belief depend upon it. It is in part an expression of unity and exclusiveness: as Edward Sapir put it, "'He talks like us' is equivalent to saying 'He is one of us.'" The loading is much more extreme in ideological totalism, however, since the jargon expresses the claimed certitudes of the sacred science. Also involved is an underlying assumption that language - like all other human products - can be owned and operated by the Movement. No compunctions are felt about manipulating or loading it in any fashion; the only consideration is its usefulness to the cause.

For an individual person, the effect of the language of ideological totalism can be summed up in one word: constriction. He is, so to speak, linguistically deprived; and since language is so central to all human experience, his capacities for thinking and feeling are immensely narrowed. This is what Hu meant when he said, "using the same pattern of words for so long…you feel chained." Actually, not everyone exposed feels chained, but in effect everyone is profoundly confined by these verbal fetters. As in other aspects of totalism, this loading may provide an initial sense of insight and security, eventually followed by uneasiness. This uneasiness may result in a retreat into a rigid orthodoxy in which an individual shouts the ideological jargon all the louder in order to demonstrate his conformity, hide his own dilemma and his despair, and protect himself from the fear and guilt he would feel should he attempt to use words and phrases other than the correct ones. Or else he may adapt a complex pattern of inner division, and dutifully produce the expected cliché's in public performances while in his private moments he searches for more meaningful avenues of expression. Either way, his imagination becomes increasingly dissociated from his actual life experiences and may tend to atrophy from disuse.

7. Doctrine Over Person

This sterile language reflects characteristic feature of ideological totalism: the subordination of human experience to the claims of doctrine. This primacy of doctrine over person is evident in the continual shift between experience itself and the highly abstract interpretation of such experience - between genuine feelings and spurious cataloguing of feelings. It has much to do with the peculiar aura of half-reality which totalist environment seems, at least to the outsider, to possess.

The inspiriting force of such myths cannot be denied; nor can one ignore their capacity for mischief. For when the myth becomes fused with the totalist sacred science, the resulting "logic" can be so compelling and coercive that it simply replaces the realities of individual experience. Consequently, past historical events are retrospectively altered, wholly rewritten, or ignored, to make them consistent with the doctrinal logic. This alteration becomes especially malignant when its distortions are imposed upon individual memory as occurred in the false confession extracted during thought reform.

The same doctrinal primacy prevails in the totalist approach to changing people: the demand that character and identity be reshaped, not in accordance with one's special nature or potentialities, but rather to fit the rigid contours of the doctrinal mold. The human is thus subjected to the ahuman. And in this manner, the totalists, as Camus phrases it, "put an abstract idea above human life, even if they call it history, to which they themselves have submitted in advance and to which they will decide arbitrarily, to submit everyone else as well."

The underlying assumption is that the doctrine - including its mythological elements - is ultimately more valid, true, and real than is any aspect of actual human character or human experience. Thus, even when circumstances require that a totalist movement follow a course of action in conflict with or outside of the doctrine, there exists what Benjamin Schwartz described as a "will to orthodoxy" which requires an elaborate facade of new rationalizations designed to demonstrate the unerring consistency of the doctrine and the unfailing foresight which it provides. But its greater importance lies in more hidden manifestations, particularly the totalists' pattern of imposing their doctrine-dominated remolding upon people in order to seek confirmation of (and again, dispel their own doubts about) this same doctrine. Rather than modify the myth in accordance with experience, the will to orthodoxy requires instead that men be modified in order to reaffirm the myth.

The individual person who finds himself under such doctrine-dominated pressure to change is thrust into an intense struggle with his own sense of integrity, a struggle which takes place in relation to polarized feelings of sincerity and insincerity. In a totalist environment, absolute "sincerity" is demanded; and the major criterion for sincerity is likely to be one's degree of doctrinal compliance - both in regard to belief and to direction of personal change. Yet there is always the possibility of retaining an alternative version of sincerity (and of reality), the capacity to imagine a different kind of existence and another form of sincere commitment. These alternative visions depend upon such things as the strength of previous identity, the penetration of the milieu by outside ideas, and the retained capacity for eventual individual renewal. The totalist environment, however, counters such "deviant" tendencies with the accusation that they stem entirely from personal "problems" ("thought problems" or "ideological problems") derived from untoward earlier influences. The outcome will depend largely upon how much genuine relevance the doctrine has for the individual emotional predicament. And even for those to whom it seems totally appealing, the exuberant sense of well-being it temporarily affords may be more a "delusion of wholeness" than an expression of true and lasting inner harmony.

8. The Dispensing of Existence

The totalist environment draws a sharp line between those whose right to existence can be recognized, and those who possess no such right.

Are not men presumtuous to appoint themselves the dispensers of human existence? Surely this is a flagrant expression of what the Greeks called hubris, of arrogant man making himself God. Yet one underlying assumption makes this arrogance mandatory: the conviction that there is just one path to true existence, just one valid mode of being, and that all others are perforce invalid and false. Totalists thus feel themselves compelled to destroy all possibilities of false existence as a means of furthering the great plan of true existence to which they are committed.

For the individual, the polar emotional conflict is the ultimate existential one of "being versus nothingness." He is likely to be drawn to a conversion experience, which he sees as the only means of attaining a path of existence for the future. The totalist environment - even when it does not resort to physical abuse - thus stimulates in everyone a fear of extinction or annihilation. A person can overcome this fear and find (in martin Buber's term) "confirmation," not in his individual relationships, but only from the fount of all existence, the totalist Organization. Existence comes to depend upon creed (I believe, therefore I am), upon submission (I obey, therefore I am) and beyond these, upon a sense of total merger with the ideological movement. Ultimately of course one compromises and combines the totalist "confirmation" with independent elements of personal identity; but one is ever made aware that, should he stray too far along this "erroneous path," his right to existence may be withdrawn.

[dat-town]

CODE Z3RO | CODE 07

characters: BTS & Red Velvet genre: thriller, futuristic au warning: nothing really summary: The twelve most ambitious and promising university students are welcomed in Choego, the world’s first entirely artificial intelligence-driven city, to compete for five job contracts that could change their life. But what if something goes wrong? What if they get trapped? What if the city suddenly turns against them? Can they find a way out before the countdown reaches zero? words: 4K tagged: @philosopher-of-fandoms​

➼ Chapter Index

Empathy towards others had been a foreign phenomen to Jeon Jungkook. Caring about others’ loss had never been his forte. He lived as if life was a zero-sum game: what he won was the cost of the other party and what he lost was the reward for someone else. He didn’t believe in win-win situations, he thought of them as sugar coated lies of enthusiastic believers of fairness and ethics. However, life was - just as it had always been - a game of survival, the natural selection of the fittest, whether it be the strongest, the most cunning or the smartest.

It was his ambition that brought him here, that he stamped over those who were worse than him because that was the only way of living he knew. Otherwise he would have been backstabbed, used and left behind. He had no luxury to let himself lose. Apart from his own monster-like ambition he had mouths to feed, younger siblings and his sick mother. However he lacked the usual brotherly instincts as he spent all his time studying and working under the weight of responsibility.

So given he had no previous experience in such field, Jungkook didn't know what to say, let alone do when Yerim's shoulders once again shook from the force of her silent sobs. She tried her best to contain them, the nasty, salty tears but whenever her brother's face appeared in front of her or anybody mentioned anything concerning death, she broke down. Hoseok on the verge of a mental breakdown didn't help her case at all.

Logically speaking Jungkook shouldn't have felt guilt. It hadn't been his job or task to take care of the young girl. She was here after all, she was qualified enough, at least on paper, so basic survival skills shouldn't have meant trouble for her. But apparently there was no academics that could prepare  them for a situation like this, even Seokjin's crisis management education was in vain in the end. It didn't save him when he would have needed it but oh a selfless sacrifice what a noble, stupid thing. He must have loved his sister a lot but now, she had to deal with the grief and handle responsibility he’d had put onto her shoulders by saving her.

Although there was something... maybe about Yerim and her strange fascination with him, or maybe it was rather about what Miss Raina had said about team work but Jungkook stayed by the broken girl's side when Wendy asked him to.

"You take really good pictures," was what he said in the end to break the awkward silence burying them. It was just as bad as silent but at least it dragged the girl out of her dark thoughts and that was also something.

"Thank you," she murmured, head snapped towards him in surprise and she even had enough presence of mind to blush at the compliment. Seeing the pearl-like dried tears on her cheeks, Jungkook decided to keep it up, drag out the conversation even if on any other occasion he wouldn't have cared. But maybe his own troubled heart needed something other than his thoughts too.

"How long have you been taking photos?" He asked even though he didn't even really care about the answer but the glitters in Yerim's eyes that now resembled the starry sky instead of a black hole. Her orbs didn't hold any hatred or blame towards him and somehow it did feel a little bit like salvation, too. Even if he wasn't religious, he didn't want bloody eyes to haunt him in his nightmares. So he listened patiently as the girl went on about the camera being a Christmas gift and that she used to be on the school journal in high school and for a blissful moment it was all normal. But in this simulation of theirs, something like this couldn't last long and it seemed to be the IT guy's responsibility to remind them that they had a task at hands to finish… If they wanted to survive in this deadly city apparently.

“Let's get going, we can't let ourselves rest while we don't know for sure what's going on,” he looked over the rest of them seemingly taken over the leader's position after Kim Seokjin’s tragic end. However, not everybody was overzealous about giving him authority.

“You think we will just follow you wherever? That you can tell us what to do just like this? We saw where his big mouth took the Selfless Brother, so for your own sake it would be better to control your tongue, Mr. I-Hacked-Into-The-System,” the marketing major muttered under his breath black-heartedly as he parted his ways from the psychology major girl. Up until now they have been quite invested in their own conversation away from the others. It was kind of surprising taken that Taehyung didn't seem to get on well with anyone, not even the quiet and cold Joohyun. He probably thought she was weak just because she needed insulin for her diabetes. He most likely didn't look at her as a real rival. So then why did it look like he was seeking for an ally? Or maybe he threatened her based on the terrified look on her face.

Yoongi didn't waste his time nor energy to question it. They had a much more alarming issue on their hands.

"Why, do you have a better idea?" He scoffed and kept the eye contact, tensed sparks flying in the air around them. Seemingly nobody wanted to pick sides in this dispute. There was no use. Splitting into two or more groups seemed useless and more dangerous if what Hoseok claimed about Jimin's death was true. They were better off together than one by one but to keep the unit together they had to have some kind of consent above the will and want to live. That stupid fight for the five contracts didn't help their case either but instead of bringing that up Yoongi tried a different method: if he could make the one with the biggest complaining mouth shut up, he knew the others wouldn't say a word either.

"Let's go," he repeated his notice after Taehyung merely shrugged off his question with a grimace. Of course he had nothing, they were all out of ideas, this one about going to the research centre was just another excuse to not sit still and wait for their doom. Probably a lot of them wanted to leave already, but a part of them still wanted to believe that this whole thing was just a simulation and the rest, the ones who fought for the longest will be awarded dream jobs. Even if logically speaking this situation felt more drastic and serious than what they had signed up for to begin with.

The mass of people moved as one, the weeping Hoseok ending their queue with Wendy keeping a close eye on him. He seemed close to passing out but they couldn't let themselves deal with a dead weight.

They passed by a little park with a lovely fountain out of water and from there they could see the bridges above the river-width canal of sea water. From what he remembered from their walking trip to the dorms, Yoongi knew they had to cross those bridges to get off the island, so it was already a good place to start. But it would have been better if they knew what they were dealing with all these sectors shutting off one by one. They needed to know the order to survive and what everybody was afraid to ask: what happens if even the last sector is done for?

The eeriness of the place in the early morning was even scarier than some props for horror movies’ dark themes. The city that seemed to hold the future, a promise of a better world just yesterday now looked more like a dead town and Yoongi wasn't sure he would ever be able to live here after everything that happened. He probably wasn't the only one thinking that way. One glance at Hoseok's horrified or Yerim's weeping face was enough to conclude it wasn't only him who wanted to leave as soon as possible. If death was the price for those bloody contracts then he didn't want them anymore. He knew he could get a job easily with his diplome, he didn't need this fancy artificial city to make his life more whole. Unlike some others, he wasn't that desperate.

As they were getting closer and closer to the main researcher building, he also realized that this whole situation was like a dangerous Jenga game. With each sector gone, their chances of getting out became slimmer and the carefully built tower got closer to crumble turning into fine dust carried by the wind. Yoongi didn't want to be the one to pull out the piece that held the fragile structure together, so he was careful, watching every step they took as if they were walking on eggshells waiting for one of them to explode like a bomb.

"We're here," the IT guy announced as his steps came to a halt in front of tall building facing the rising Sun. He checked on the photo he took once more but yeah, they must have been at the right place. At the questioning looks he got, he nodded towards a sign ahead.

Of course, Taehyung couldn't leave it without a comment either.

"This is it? A bit too fancy to be the researchers' place, don't you think?" he scoffed when he reached the metal panel claiming they reached their destination, the headquarters of the creators of Choego.

The glass building towering above them looked just as abandoned and empty as any other on the island. If there weren't the huge sign reminding them of the purpose of the place, it wouldn't have been any more special than the others surrounding it.

However, Yoongi deeply hoped that this new visit of theirs wouldn't end up like the one in the hospital. That was shocking enough for a life, even what they found out about Sooyoung. Being here felt less and less like a competitive simulation game and more like a nightmare he wished to wake up from. Unfortunately, smart city or not, it couldn't fulfil his wishes.

"Don't forget that the whole city is built thanks to their efforts, so of course they built something like this for themselves," Namjoon spoke up staring at the huge building that made everyone feel like they were nothing but ants under the feet of gods. Maybe they were. Maybe there was someone watching over them. Someone who treated them as if they were puppets on a string. It was an unnerving thought.

"Pretentious bunch," the purple-haired guy scoffed with an ugly grin in the corner of his mouth. Yoongi rolled his eyes at his childish behaviour as all of them climbed the black marble stairs to the glass door in the front.

It was safe to say that the IT specialist hated his kind: the ones with big mouth without actually doing anything. The only thing he did was stirring up nervousness and despise between supposed-to-be allies. His presence made the group work more hectic and tensed because nobody knew when would the guy or someone else snap at them for making a honest to God mistake.

After the hospital incident everybody was a bit wary as they approached the glass entrance of the building, nobody wanted to be the one to open the gates of Hell, so Yoongi stepped forward and touched his bracelet to the metal panel next to the door.

Not authorized personnel, the machine claimed almost instantly and the guy's arm fell back by his side resignedly.

"Wait, shouldn't we have a researcher's rights? Does this place need something extra?" Joohyun voiced out the confused thoughts that must have crossed everyone's mind. She seemed like the type to remember even the smallest details anyway, especially when it was about rules. Something about it made Taehyung suppress a pleased grin in the back of the group.

"Yeah, Miss Raina told us we have similar rights as the general researchers," Namjoon nodded and with furrowed eyebrows he crouched down to get a better look at the control panel. It looked just like the ones in their dorms and the hospital. There was no sign that they would need something special permissions to enter. "Not letting us in doesn't make any sense."

"Let me try, too. Maybe something's off with your bracelet," Wendy stepped forward but the robotic voice echoed the same as before.

"Why would it have been different? Do you really think you're so special?" Taehyung snorted loudly from the back and if it wasn't for the peacemaker girl putting a soothing hand over her boyfriend, Namjoon would have been at the guy's throat in that minute. The way the corner of his mouth twitched at the ugly remark told it all, but it didn't seem like the marketing major had plans on stopping his triggering behavior anytime soon. He clearly enjoyed dancing on everyone's nerves, especially Namjoon's whose emotions were written all over his face.

"There's no harm done by trying twice," Wendy claimed calmly, not bothered by the words thrown at her like an offence. She had known better than to care about such comments.

"It's weird," Joohyun hummed touching her own bracelet as if it was more of a handcuff than the key to freedom, her dark eyes not once leaving the automatic door with no handle.

"I'm checking our permissions and try to grant the ones needed for this building," Yoongi sighed as he pulled out his notebook from his bag.

Now knowing how he could easily slip through the crack between the watching eyes of the system firewall, he logged into the database in no time, quickly checking whether their IDs had any privilege or limitation they didn't know about. Though, the more they kept going, the more he realized that all they did was walking around in the dark without any guidance. So he wasn't surprised when he saw that their bracelets were stripped off any rights as soon as they identified themselves in the hospital. Maybe that's why the lab's security system also turned on in the basement.

He quickly wrote out a few lines of SQL commands but the big red error message he got made him let out a nasty swear words.

"What?" Namjoon looked at him curiously.

"I have no permission to change the date in the database," he grimaced even though he should have known this.

Of course, it wasn't that easy. It would have been actually a huge gap in the security if the database let him update its rows without being an admin. Fuck, how could he get that? How could he trick the computer to believe he's an administrator with ultimate rights? If only he could log in as Han Raina! She most likely had every right they needed. They would only need a username and a password...

Or not.

A sarcastic chuckle escaped Yoongi's throat. It must have seemed crazy in such a situation but he didn't care. Could it be? Could they leave a hidden door just for him to find? They couldn't be so careless to leave that opportunity open just like that, not after knowing that he was doing his masters especially in cyber defence, this was his expertise field.

"I think I know how to hack into the database as an admin," he murmured under his nose at the questioning stares he got. "Does anyone remember what was the code on Miss Raina's ID card?" he pointed at his own still around his neck with his picture, name, other basic data including a bold font with his registration code yoon.gi.min.

He looked around hopeful, searching for help since he doubted Raina was the researcher's real name, it didn't really sound Korean enough. However, all he got was blank and confused stares. Sighing he knew he had no other chance than to give it a try. He could only hope that there was no lock on the system or a limit of maximum attempts of failed logins. He typed in rai.na.han into the command line after the username and added a few symbols into the password part. It was a wild guess, an almost childlike attempt.

SQL injection was one of the first and most basic web application attacking techniques he had been taught about during his years as a computer science major. He spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to hack into the data-driven application his professor had created to make his students sweat while doing their homework. SQLI was one of the biggest web application vulnerabilities, one of the greatest mistakes one could commit as a developer if they let open doors like this but maybe they were lucky.

Or not.

He sighed when the error message changed to No such username in the database. Of course, there wasn't, it would have been too good to be true.

"It was hye dot rin dot han," A girl the farthest from them said quietly, barely audible and Yoongi looked up from his computer to stare at the the long, brown haired girl with eyes that held mysteries noone has ever told. He didn't question why she hadn't said anything before, instead he typed in the name Seulgi suggested and adding the same symbol trick he pressed Enter with a hopeful heart.

Everyone looked at him in anticipation and the seconds seemed to roll by slower as they waited for the command to run. It seemed an awfully longer time than the barely 1.2ms it needed. Then Yoongi's usually stern face lit up with triumph.

"I'm in."

Jungkook and Namjoon, the fellow engineer students who had some idea about how programming worked let out an awed wow watching his work while the other let out relieved sighs and exchanged nervous smalls.

However, their small delight didn't last long.

"Fuck this shit," the IT guy groaned. "She doesn't have admin rights and apparently no one has. Which is crazy, it shouldn't be like this. Every database should have an owner."

"I think it's the city's doing. The artificial intelligence doesn't want us to leave," the younger engineer boy brushed the fringe out of his forehead as he carefully reminded them of what they feared the most: so it was really a trap. A trap with no exit? This possibility alone was enough to silence them all.

"Do you... do you think they are all dead too? Miss Raina and the others?" A small, scared voice rang like a chime of bells from behind Yoongi and those who hovered over the notebook in his lap.

Yerim's sudden question had taken all of them by surprise. The young girl looked over them like a ghost, pale and eyes hollow and red-rimmed. She might have seemed like a naive girl but everyone gets over the denial phase of grief at one point, so she could also face the truth. And that little added 'too' in her question hinted that Yerim also accepted the loss of her brother no matter how hard that must have been. Yoongi looked up at the doe eyed boy behind the girl's shoulder and Jungkook looked the most boyish and vulnerable in that moment that he had ever seen. For all his bravado, he looked quite frightened for the first time of the day. Even more so than in the computer room from where they were made to leave.

"If they stayed on the island then... they might be," the med student answered ever so diplomatic, not one for lies but not one for stabbing knives into sensitive hearts either. Unlike Taehyung who had enough of sitting around.

"Okay, so Plan A didn't work. Anyone has a Plan B instead of mourning people we don't really give a shit about?"

It was a harsh truth. No matter how shocked or empathetic they were, none of them felt too bad about the people who built this Hell that killed them in the end. They might have been good people with families but they didn't know them, so their grief was fake like the flowers in their dorm.

"Well, the building doesn't have any windows we can reach to climb in. The glass door is probably shock resistant. So our only chance is the door and this entry system," Yoongi murmured listing off the options he could come up with but it didn't look too promising.

"Actually every system like this can be hacked through good ol’ wires, too," Namjoon claimed, leaning closer to the control panel to check the perforation and the smooth edges of the box. He hummed seemingly finding a good way to open it and then he turned to his girlfriend.

"I need your makeup bag."

"What?" The girl blinked at him, confused and a bit angry at such a ridiculous request. What would he need her stuff to?

"You brought it, didn't you?" Having no time for explanations Namjoon raised a brow.

Wendy sighed and fished the small pink bag out of her luggage. Opening it her boyfriend only pulled out the metal nail file. Everybody held their breaths while the engineer guy picked the metal facet apart, using the tool instead of a screwdriver, untwisting the screws. He hovered over the insides of the panel and the multiple colourful wires that had no meaning to anyone besides him. Wordlessly, he reached for the beauty scissors and with a swift movement he cut through all of them.

"What the fuck?" Taehyung hollered bewildered when he saw what he did. Namjoon snorted at his panic.

"It's not a bomb, idiot, nothing bad will happen, I just disconnected it from the system–"

Shutting down speed doubled. Next sector shuts down in eighteen minutes. The machine voice chimed from somewhere inside, faint through the thickness of the walls but still audible.

"Oh are you so sure? Really?" the marketing major guy growled and fisting the collar of his shirt he pushed the engineer harshly to the wall.

"As if you knew better!" Namjoon said through gritted teeth, the tension between them evolving to a whole new level. Everybody tensed around them both from the fear of them tearing at each other and what the warning meant.

"Well I didn't want to go into that doomed basement either but as always no one listens to me," Taehyung clicked his tongue gripping harder on the material in his hands when prettily manicured fingers tried to pry those off.

"Because you had zero useful ideas! You can only complain!" Wendy spoke up on behalf of her boyfriend. No matter how much they fought, she deeply cared for him, it was obvious and she wasn't going to just let a big mouthed kid tell him off like that.

"Still better than getting us killed like your precious boyfriend just did," the lilac haired guy sneered at her too, coal black eyes boring into her soft brown ones like he was trying to pierce through her.

The others didn't watch the argument in silent anymore, more and more joined taking sides, trying to reason with soothing words but nothing seemed to work, not until like a breeze on a summer day, something gripping brought change into the atmosphere.

"Guys…"

A quiet voice trembled in the chaos, barely audible over the argument among the rest but miraculously every head whipped towards Seulgi standing by the door. Her hand was over the glass, leaving sweat stains on the material and the door itself was agape, leaving a slim crack between the edge and the frame. The entrance to the researchers' base was open.

They made it inside, exactly where they wanted to get and yet, it didn't taste like salvation at all. Because there was a grave price yet to pay.

[b-kitsune]

Many ways to say I love you: Day One

Kidge-a-palooza 2019 Day One: Fickle Pairing: Kidge (VLD) Universe: Canon (Season 1) Status: Part 1/7

Pidge was used to finding the right answer to all her problems with the use of logic to her benefit.

When she was a little girl, having friends was something that always was difficult from her, she wasn't good at reading the environment and her sharp tongue inherited from her mother didn't help any moment. So, they always turned their backs on her when Pidge tried to be a little more sociable. One day, bored with jokes and bad treatment, she decided that it wasn't for her. Having her family and Bae Bae to keep her company was enough, building walls towards the rest of the world.

When she began to grow up, she didn't feel comfortable with the new curvature of her body, her dresses accentuated her waist and Pidge felt strangely uncomfortable with the use of a bra, so she decided to use jackets twice her size and cover her growth. Nobody noticed the difference; their development was slow anyway.

This was how all her problems were easily dismissed or, if it was possible, left aside. And if this weren't the case, Pidge took the reins of the situation without considering the consequences. It was like this when she infiltrated a government property, passed herself off as a boy and ended up in a lion of 10,000 years old alien technology.

Even then after all the catastrophes in recent months, she felt calm, everything was solvable with a few minutes of thorough analysis. And entering Voltron had helped her to generate flexibility that on earth she hadn't achieved through the traditional ways, Pidge was stubborn after all. And being right almost always worked in her favor.

But at that moment, while working in the green lion's hangar isolated from others coding the recent files of the Galra fleet, even for months of studying the situation carefully within all the possible variables, she couldn't find the correct answer to the fickle attitude of Keith Kogane.

When she met him in the rescue of Shiro in a turn of coincident events, Pidge immediately recognized the bad character made a person.  Place she thought that she had naively earned it.

If Pidge had trouble relating to the rest and isolating himself from the world at the slightest problem, Keith far surpassed her. Many times, she saw herself recriminating him for attitudes that even to her seemed extremist, seeing the irony of who came to the comment. However, they understood each other quite well without talking too much, like Lance and Hunk, Pidge could understand where his bad temper often came from and did her best to help him overcome it.

There were situations that even Shiro had sent directly to talk to Keith as soon as there was friction in the team. And she was proud to have a unique space with her arm mate in which none of the other members, including Shiro, was welcome.

Or so she thought.

''Pidge, there you are!'' Allura entered the hangar with an enviable spirit, Pidge didn't even look up. ''Coran and I have scheduled training for all the paladins today, I need you to be in the training room in half varga.''

''I'm busy here.''

''But it's-''

''This is also important.'' Pidge interrupted her before she insisted.

''All right. I will not try to convince you.'' Allura returned to the exit, leaving Pidge somewhat confused by her complacent attitude. ''In ten ticks, I will deactivate the electricity of the hangar, I hope you aren't afraid of the darkness.''

''Are you serious?'' But when she looked up, only saw the determination on her face, the panic growing inside her when saw her count in reverse. ''Ok, ok, I'm going to get dressed, don't lock me in here!''

''I'm glad you understand!'' Allura patted her back once she ran to the door, closing the hangar until the end of the training. Pidge groaned disappointedly. ''Part of the paladins' job is to keep a constant training of physical activity and strengthening of the link even if they aren't in battle, to keep the body in shape. I expected no less from the green lion's paladin.''

''You threatened me.''

She objected dryly, but Allura ignored her when they both walked inside the castle.

She least wanted was to participate in the castle exercises, much less deal with Keith in the process.

During the last weeks, his attitude had changed strangely towards her, leaving her completely conflicted. It wasn't as if Keith had the same attitude every day, but Pidge had felt strangely uncomfortable with him.

He could converse peacefully with her during breakfast, annoy Lance together, help her with updates on the red lion, and discuss her interests as if they had been close friends for a long time in her room, in a unique and unparalleled closeness in which even she felt his breathing close enough to hit her in the face, often feeling that her heart would come out at any moment. The next day, she could be lucky if he greeted her or looked at her in the corridors. Many times in that order, other times he could spend days when he didn't even address a single word.

Sometimes Keith seemed really worried about her health during the training sessions, coming to give her deep hugs when nobody else looked them, she felt protected and taken care of by those moments where only the two existed. And other days, he could leave her alone to the point of being shot because of him.

There were moments when he stopped her in the corridors to try to say something important, but he only kept his mouth open and returned as quickly as he arrived. Then he commented that he only needed help on anything and had already solved it without problems.

Lately, she didn't understand what he wanted, sometimes he seemed to adore her, and at the second was a complete stranger. When she faced it, it didn't work at all, since he left her alone, alluding that she was only imagining things.

So Pidge decided that he simply had to ignore it.

''Pidge, you finally came!'' She approached Shiro quickly when he greeted her, being the last to appear. ''Now that we're all ready, can start this training.''

'' What will it be this time?'' Lance asked interested while stretching. ''A 2vs3? Race of lions? Battle of gunfire? Or will we have to sit in a circle and tell our secrets?''

''Actually, it's a shooting battle.'' Everyone looked at Shiro surprised at the simplicity of the training.

''How boring''. Pidge commented loudly. Taking a light laugh at the black paladin.

''Oh believe me Pidge, you'll enjoy it.''

 ...

 The exercise was simple with rules similar to a traditional terrestrial MOBA, defeating the central points by going to any of the five roads, in which at the end of this, they would take control of the central command. They could recharge, change and stop whenever they wanted as long as they didn't shoot at themselves. Only, this time, it was the four versus Shiro, in a simulation with night vision, without special binoculars, and they were at a clear disadvantage.

The worst thing was that they had been classified by armament pairs, so Pidge was obliged to deal with Keith throughout the training.

As soon as they found one of the points, they shot it quickly to deactivate it.

''I haven't listened to Hunk for several minutes.'' Keith approached her side to avoid being attacked by the attack bots. But Pidge just grunted unguarded. ''Do you think they will be fine on the other side?''

''I don't know.'' He could see the bewilderment on her face when it was illuminated by a slight explosion.

''Are you angry?''

''No!''

Before being shot, Pidge pushed him behind some boxes they used as shields during the simulation. The noise suggested a group of more than five bots around them. For those who covered their backs to shoot them before being injured and eliminated.

They advanced for many minutes as they evaded and eliminated, but Pidge stumbled over an object and Keith quickly took it to place it on his shoulder, beginning to run to lose sight of them.

With the last reload of his weapon, he was able to annihilate the last one before being caught, feeling the overload on his body. Pidge was complaining about the pain in her foot, surely she had folded it as soon as she fell. Both couldn't follow the path, nor did they have ammunition to defend themselves, it was a matter of time for them to lose against the system.

Keith approached her to lightly touch her damaged foot.

''Are you okay?''

''Yeah ... '' It was barely a whisper. Keith sat beside her when he listened to the gunfire around him. And without avoiding it, he asked.

''Hey ... Is there something I did that bothered you?''

''What?'' Pidge was confused with his question, so Keith preferred to explain himself correctly.

''We were pretty good in the last time, and the next day, you started avoiding me like I had the plague. I don't want you to feel obligated to tell me something you don't want, but, I was happy, you know? You were the first friend I've had after Shiro, and I would feel bad knowing that maybe I did something that bothered you.''

''I thought I had done something to annoy you, Keith.'' Keith turned his head off, listening to her. ''Sometimes you talked to me, and the next second you started to ignore me, then you were days without talking to me and from one moment to another you acted as if nothing happens-

Pidge didn't calculate the exact moment when it happened, but from one second to the next she was strongly pressed to the wall, lips pressing on her and the light shots of the simulation around them as the only memory of reality.

It wasn't exactly sweet or soft, he savored her with fury, with a need incarnate of his own primitive desire. Pidge didn't know how to react, she wanted to take him away for mere instinct to be attacked so wildly, but it was that same feeling that was taking him to take the lapels of his uniform and push him closer to her, causing her hips hit each other.

It was the first time she was kissed by someone. It was the first time she felt a fire rising beneath her stomach as soon as his lips parted to give way to her tongue, tasting her painfully. Keith was relentless, demanding, leaving her with no air and caressing every contour inside her mouth. His hands trembled as approached her waist, letting Pidge know that all the strength he used before was the product of recent nerves.

Was being his first time too?

She could push him away, accept him and answer the kiss, do all that or just get carried away for the moment. But at any moment the illumination was turned on in lights of medium intensity giving when the simulation finished. Pidge and Keith walked away fearfully as if they had been aware of what had happened at that moment, and without another word, got up to go to the exit.

Pidge leaned on Keith's shoulder because of her ankle. There, Shiro, Coran, and Allura waited for them with a big smile.

''Congratulations, you two were closest to the victory, Lance and Hunk are still looking for the exit.'' Allura replied with happiness, both nodded defeated.

''Are you hurt Pidge?'' Shiro asked worriedly.

''I just bent my ankle during training.''

''At least it's not something serious, you have to be careful next time. Keith, can you take her to the infirmary?''

''Oh, yeah.''

They both went to the exit as soon as they heard the screams of Lance rumble on the walls about the difficulty of the exercise. When they walked a couple of meters away from the training room. Pidge approached Keith's face gently, to brush his lips in a delicate movement. Keith looked embarrassed.

''I'm sorry I lost control there, if you don't want to continue, I'll understand ...''

''Kiss me, Keith.'' She cut him, and Keith smiled relieved at his response, kissing her, over and over again being careful not to move on to take his injured foot.

''I wanted to do this for so long.''

''Is that why you were being so strange?'' Pidge could see the shame build up Keith's face with force, nodding nervously. ''Oh my god, you're so emo.''

''And you're very shorty, c' mere.''

Pidge laughed sarcastically when Keith took her into his arms to address the infirmary. Both could have an aggressive passive relationship on the surface, but deep down, they expected that new discovery in the simulation room to change things a bit between them.

[venus-says]

Kamen Rider Ex-Aid Episodes 01-15

Press START button.

Ex-Aid is one of those seasons that when you look at it sounds like something that shouldn't work. I mean, putting doctors and video-games together? Is this what, a Dr. Mario live-action, an adaptation of Surgeon Simulator, or an actual Kamen Rider season?

This odd combination of factors always made very skeptical about this season, there's also the huge anime eyes in the helmet that never sat well with me too, but this concept combo always seemed pretty wild to work. But then I watched Gaim, which also had an odd combination of themes, and I saw that those odd concepts mixed together can be doable and be something fun so I started to look forward to the season. But even with the excitement, a small fear started to linger because as I started seeing more and more of Kamen Rider and seeing more of the community I always saw Ex-Aid popping up as one season that everyone thinks it's top-notch and well... the last time I saw a highly acclaimed season in the fandom I hated it so the chances of that happening here again were there.

And you know, I think my fears became reality and I feel like I'm having another Drive experience here. Maybe not at the same level as Drive, I feel like Ex-Aid got me less angry and annoyed, but this season really didn't click with me. I see that it can grow on me because after episode 11 I started enjoying it more, but the general feeling for these 15 episodes and this movie was... meh? Like, I don't like most of the characters, I have a serious problem with the comedy, and there's something in the dialogue of this show that really tickles me off. I also don't like how CGI heavy this show is, and most of the CGI looks horrible.

One thing that really pushed me off at the beginning was the structure that wasn't very interesting, we had 4 episodes to introduce the riders, 4 episodes to give a power-up to each of them, and 2 to introduce a shared power-up and defeat the first general of the villains, and I felt like I came out of these without that much story, it felt like they were just going through a checklist of toys they had to sell and not actually telling a story. It's only from episode 11 onward that it starts to feel like this show has some sort of plot.

I also don't like how this starts similar to a Rider War thing, with all riders competing to see who cleans 10 games first and gets the most Gashats, but they make all characters out of the main one be completely hateful so we have no choice other than root for him. And like, it's okay to give us jerk characters, but you gotta give us something about them so that we can hang on, you don't need to make them redeemable or anything but you gotta have enough for us to love hating on a character otherwise it's just annoying.

Going back to my weird dialogue point, probably one of the things that I dislike the most is how there are times where they don't seem like real people talking? Like, the image I have when seeing the dialogue is that a bunch of old men in a writers' room sit down thinking "what will sound very trendy to hit off with the kid gamers", "what's a young people language we can put here" and they think they're being very smart and clever, but just sounds odd as hell, especially with the gaming aspect and the catchphrases (that at this point in this franchise I'm already tired of them because most of them aren't even charming anymore).

Another thing that doesn't sit well with me is just how special they make these characters be when there's no necessity for it. Like, being an actual doctor is already special enough, you don't need to have your main rider be extremely good at games to justify the gaming motif, you don't need the secondary rider to be a famous prodigious surgeon to install a rivalry. I mean look at Kiriya, as far as I can't remember he doesn't have any special trait and yet he manages to be interesting and stand out on his own. Heck, you don't need to have Emu be patient 0 of the gaming disease when you already have him being really good at video-games and when you're starting to add another element to him with a possible second personality, it's too much for a single character RIGHT FROM THE BEGINNING. It's not like we're seeing those characters evolving into becoming special, they're already special and we just have to buy it. Of course, there are still routes that they can go with that will make the show more interesting, like for example they can do something with Taiga and Emu and their game addiction/obsession and that can be really great, but all this special feeling since the beginning really bugs me.

I think since I'm already here let me talk about the characters. Emu is a precious kid, there are times in which he kinda gets under my skin, but I overall like him. I especially love that he works as a pediatrician, in the beginning, especially considering this is a kids' show, I like to have this idea of doctors being heroes in the mind of children because they really are (despite the health care system in a lot of countries make it looks like they're villains). Other than him being extra special there are two things the show does with him that I don't like, the first one is that after the first arc is done they make him leave pediatrics to start doing surgeries and while I understand that as an intern that's the normal course and he probably has to go through different areas before choosing a specialty, but I feel like that was done just to hone more the rivalry with Hiiro and I don't really care for that, I hope he's back at pediatrics later on because I feel like it's what makes more sense for him and for the target audience of this show. The other thing I don't like is his personality change when he "starts a game" because it never felt like there was much of a change in any of the cases, they just make a gust of wind and he shows a grim for a few seconds, but nothing changes. And seeing that this is a plot point they want to explore it annoys me that they never made that play out before, it's bringing something up when it's convenient and saying that they had a basis for that but the basis is a single small thing that was never brought up to attention before.

Moving to Hiiro, I Hate Him and that's all I have to say. And I hate him even more because the show put him in a relationship where he was very cold and dismissive of his significant other and still they want to make us sympathize with him, they frame it as "the girl left because she didn't want to bother your studies" instead of "she left you because you were a jerk". But of course, they can't make that because then they wouldn't be able to make the stoic character they want so much, they would have to make someone who's trying to become a better person after he lost someone important that he didn't give the proper attention to, and that's much harder and they don't want that. UGH, I hate this man so much.

Taiga. Taiga is... interesting, I like the concept of someone who worked at CR before but lost himself to addiction, that's a great plot point. It's sad they don't do much with him and we end up with another obsessive jerk. Still, don't hate him as much because I can see the potential for them doing something very cool with him, but as of now, he's in the pile of hate.

Kiriya was probably my favorite character of this cast, it was really fun seeing him go from a mysterious man lurking around to someone who looks very deceptive, and all the journey of him investigating the truth as the episodes where going, and seeing his credibility be questioned but he never gave up despite that, it was all very great. Do I think it was a cheap move to kill him before he could tell the truth about Emu? Yes, I do. Because this is something we see everywhere, it's not a new trick. But I still felt his death, and if they don't come up with a way to revive him somehow I'll give this show props because it was a bold move to kill off a character during the Christmas special.

About Genm, and all the villains for that matter, I don't have much to say. I don't get them, I'm not curious to understand them, thus I don't care for them. It's interesting that the powers of the riders end up coming from the main villain? A bit? But then again, if you have all of these powers and you're handing them to people who oppose you, it seems like it's very counter-intuitive. At least they have the excuse that he's gathering data from them, but if he never recovers those gashats, is he really getting the data he wants? I don't know, everything about him and the villains seems very odd. But for what's worth, he almost killed himself to gather data for a zombie game and that was pretty wild so I guess that counts? About Graphite and Parad, I don't have anything to say, don't really care for them.

This leaves us with the side characters. Asuna/Poppy, I wanna like her but sadly I don't. If she is the "token girl" of the season, I'm at least glad she's not a romantic interest and that she fills in as a support role, but still, don't know why she can't just be a regular nurse that goes a little crazy sometimes. Though I guess if they had gone this route with her she would probably become Kiriko 2.0 and that's also bad so... There's the Director of the hospital, and I just hate him, I hate that they make someone who's supposed to be the leader of the hospital sooooo stupid. And he's stupid at all times, he doesn't even get the treatment Jun had in which he was there for comedy but he also had his moments where he was serious and those moments were pretty good. This dude is just here to make his eyes pop and drool over his son and I hate that. Mr. Minister should've chosen someone better suited for this job. And last, there's Nico who just seems like another jerk I don't like, but I'm holding on talking about her because I think I've only seen her for 2 or 3 episodes and she appeared very little so I can't say much about her.

I intended to talk about the Dr. Pac-Man movie, but they actually integrated that plot in the show in a much more flashed out way this time around so I feel like it would be redundant to talk about it since the bigger points I would have to make were already touched on. But let me say, what a mess of a movie. Like, there was no reason for Wizard and Gaim to be there, like how did Gaim even get there in the first place? This movie would be much better with only Drive, Ghost, and Ex-Aid, because they actually had a decent plot going around there that connected very nicely. But it's still a cross-over movie and they make a lot of things I hate about these cross-overs, the awful rider forms are there, there was an awful huge CGI battle scene that looked ugly as hell (though props to them for making this fight happen mid-way and not at the end), there was that scene were the riders started to speed-run through their old forms that were also pretty awful because I could barely understand what was going on in the scenes, all the mess that every rider cross-over movie has. But the thing that annoyed me the most this time around wasn't even that, was Ghost being Ghost again and putting another countdown to doom into Takeru and bringing Akari in this hell with him, and having ANOTHER fake-out death for him at the end. GOSH, THIS ANNOYS ME SO MUCH, LET THIS DUDE LIVE, STOOOOOOP.

And before wrap-up let's talk about what everyone loves, the designs.

This is probably the group with my least favorite designs EVER in this franchise, I'm sorry. I get, they're taking inspiration of different game genres, and the different forms are like they're leveling up, and in concept, I like that but in actual looks, only a very few of them get to pull it off. To begin with, I don't even know what those belts are supposed to be, they look way too busy and I can't define what that shape is.

The Level 1 forms are a mistake. I know, it's Mario before he eats a mushroom, it's still ugly as hell, and I hate that when they grow to their Level 2 forms the head of Level 1 goes to their back like a backpack. In terms of Level 2, I wasn't a fan of Ex-Aid's eyes at first but the design grew on me a lot, I love the colors and how vibrant it is, I also like Genm's because it's just a color variation and it looks good so... Kinda wish his hammer arm stayed as a hammer all the time though, makes Brave having a sword less special. And speaking of him, despite hating his character, as an RPG fan, I do love his design. Snipe, on the other hand, is an abomination. That thing on his right eye that is supposed to hair? What the fuck Kamen Rider, you can do better. Well... at least he's not just a bike, I guess. Thinking about it now, I should've known that Kiriya would end-up dying when his level 2 form was just a bike, that was a major red flag. At least he looks cool.

Sadly Level 3 starts to make everything look ugly again because the power-ups are attachments and they usually go only in the upper body making everyone look like an ice cream cone. I don't think there's a single Level 3 design I like, all of them look awful. I think Shakariki Sports and Jet Combat offend me the most, but all of these can be thrown in the trash. Together with the shared Level 5 power-up, gosh talk about an awful form, it's so bulky, and that dragon head looks so ridiculous, I think the only Level 5 that works is Brave's because in the end it just looks like he's branding his sword, but everyone else looks awful, in special the Full Dragon form.

The Level 10 forms are fun because I love Genm's zombie version, black and white is an easy combination but it works so well, and this dude looks so freaking cool, also NO BACKPACK HEAD! Also, he has a much better belt than the others, this should be the design for all the riders, it's not very big, it's easily recognizable as a portable console, it just looks good you know? But then we have Ex-Aid's Level 10 and he's chibi ex-aid again and he looks awful, thankfully this form is just a set for us to get Level 20 Left and Right that is a concept I love and definitely my favorite suits out of the ones for this season so far. Would I like it better if there wasn't the shoulder piece with Lv.10's head? Definitely, but I still love these forms. I personally love the right side more because after all we already have a light blue rider on the team, but I also think the bright orange with blue accents looks more appealing and stands out more than the blue with orange accents. The last form present in these 15 episodes is Para-DX's Puzzle and Fighting game forms, and I hate the puzzle form, it's really ugly, the fighting game form works way much better, but the back of the helmet being Puzzle's head brings it down a little.

And that's it for this post. Not gonna lie, considering how much I didn't enjoy this show at the beginning, I'm very surprised by how long this post is. I think it's a sign I'm invested so I'm hoping we'll have only good things from here on now. If you have anything to add, please share your thoughts in the comments down below. Stay healthy, stay safe, never stop resisting, thank you so much for reading me rant for so long, and until the next time. See ya in the next game.

[today-only-happens-once]

With Great Power - Chapter 8

Title: With Great Power - Chapter 8

Word Count: 3474

Fic Summary:  Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU.

Catch up or Read on AO3 here!

Chapter Warnings: arguing, science that isn’t real science, arguing, violence/robbery/hostages mention, a couple of OCs make an appearance this chapter, let me know if I forgot anything. 

A/N: It’s been a minute on this fic. Sorry for the delay! Always a joy to work on this fic, but real life was pretty busy for a while there. Special thanks to @creativenostalgiastuff for helping me out so much with this chapter.  The science of this chapter is based in the lab notebook page we get a glimpse of in Spider-Man: Homecoming for Web Fluid 3.0. I found a picture of it online and used that as my baseline for the science of their development of this formula. I am not a chemical engineer. If you are, I beg for suspension of disbelief. Also.... please let me know what ya think! We’re starting to get more and more into character stuff, and I’m always interested in knowing how it’s coming across. ^u^ Love you all. 

Three days later, Thomas makes his way down the hallway of the third level of the engineering building of his old college.

It had been a little odd being on campus so long after graduation. So much had changed from when he’d thought he’d be a chemical engineer; he’d gotten famous on Vine. He’d started YouTube as a full-time gig. He hadn’t done any chemical engineering work since his first job out of college, and he’d only done that for a few years. Thomas remembered the late coffee-fueled nights of studying in the library, the stupid adventures with friends for donuts at midnight, the tears shared over failed tests and where their lives would be going …

So much had changed for Thomas in the years since his graduation. The campus, however, seemed to be exactly the same except for a few updates to the old brick buildings he’d spent four years walking past.

Thomas approaches the lab down the hall and can hear music floating from under the wooden door. He’d sent the email to his old engineering professor, Dr. Washington, the same night that the Sides had given him the idea for the suit and webshooters. She’d responded the next morning, telling Thomas that she’d be doing research work with her lab assistant most of Wednesday and to drop by whenever he was free. Thomas spent most of the day in-between working with Logan to come up with some ideas for the formula, however incomplete it clearly was. At least he would have notes to give Dr. Washington as a starting place.

As Thomas raps a knuckle against the door, he can make out the suddenly familiar song. “And they’re gonna see what stop the presses really means! And the old will weep and go back to sleep—”

Thomas opens the door, smiling. “You’re listening to Newsies, Dr. Washington?”

The lab is relatively spacious; black tables are filled with various vials, beakers, and equipment that takes Thomas back to his own lab assistant days. The tiled linoleum floor reflects the fluorescent lights above. On the other side of the room, Thomas sees Dr. Washington—in a lab coat and goggles—look up at the sounds of his entry. Beside her is a man with blonde hair and glasses with something like a laser pointer attached, who looks a few years younger than Thomas, seated in an electric wheelchair.

She grins, sliding the goggles up over her cropped hair. “I told Andrew he could choose the music today.” She nods to the man beside her. “As long as it wasn’t Les Mis.”

Thomas laughs at the affronted look on Andrew’s face. He looks at a board attached to his wheelchair, and Dr. Washington leans over, reading. “I S-T-- still don’t know what you H-A-- have against L-E-S Les Mis.” She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Nothing, the first eighteen times we listened to it.”

Thomas smiles. “Only eighteen? Then you’re fine. When you get into like, the thirties is when you maybe consider listening to a different musical.”

Dr. Washington points a finger at him. “Don’t encourage him, Thomas. Having one thespian in my midst is enough. I feel outnumbered now.” Andrew looks at the board again and she leans over to read. “I like him. He G-E-- gets it.” Dr. Washington rolls her eyes. “Of course you do.”

Andrew and Thomas grin at each other.

Dr. Washington screws the lid onto a petri dish and scribbles something on it. She sets it aside. “I can’t win.” She pulls her gloves off and tosses them into the wastebasket underneath the lab table. “So what brings you in, Thomas? Your email was pretty vague.”

“Right. Well…” The internet personality swings his backpack around from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for his notebook. “I have a question about a hypothetical formula.”

“H-Y-P-- hypothetical?”

Thomas pulls the notebook out, flipping through it for the pages he’d been working on with Logan. “I—yeah. I was wondering if I combined salicylic acid, methanol, carbon tetrachloride, touline, H-heptane…” Thomas trails off as he flips through the pages before finding the one with the partial formula he’d been working on, stepping up to the other side of the lab table and setting the notebook open in front of them.

It’s a long moment as Thomas watches both them glance over his notes. Andrew furrows his brows in thought as Dr. Washington flips the single page back and forth. She looks up at Thomas.

Thomas jumps in before she can say anything. “It’s incomplete. I know it is. I’m just not sure what’s missing.”

“Well,” she says, tilting her head slightly as her dark eyes flit over the page, “that depends on what you’re trying to get this substance to do.”

Thomas rubs the back of his neck as he walks around the table to stand on the other side of Andrew. “I was wondering if it’s possible to create a flexible but strong adhesive… thing.”

Andrew’s looking at him with curiosity. Thomas glances down as Andrew uses the communication board, reading his question aloud. “Like a G-L-- glue?” Thomas sighs. “Not exactly. I… was hoping for something a lot stronger and more flexible than glue.”

Dr. Washington hums, tapping a pencil to her mouth. Her brows are furrowed in thought. “I may have an idea. But you’d need to add carbon tetrachloride and ethyl acetate to the list you’ve got here.”

Thomas nods, scribbling that under the list of other chemicals, not picking up his pencil as Andrew adds on.

“S-O-D-I-- sodium T-E-T-R-A-B-- tetraborate could work as an A-C-T-I-V-activator.”

Dr. Washington and Andrew spend the next ten minutes bouncing ideas off each other. Thomas scribbles down as many notes as he can. Dr. Washington starts bustling around the lab, grabbing chemicals and starting equipment up as she goes. Thomas studies the new list and equations they’ve developed, and he can feel Logan’s presence at the forefront of his mind like a comforting weight.

Add CC14, K3Co5 and C7H6O3 after you’ve boiled it, Logan tells him suddenly. It’ll help the consistency prior to adding the sodium tetraborate.

Thomas jots that down.

The three of them make themselves busy. Thomas grabs a lab coat and pair of safety goggles from the cabinet near the door. Dr. Washington hands Andrew an iPad, and he pulls up a software that Thomas isn’t familiar with and inputs a series of chemical equations. Dr. Washington swirls a clear liquid in a flask as she crosses the lab.

The hours pass by in a flurry of scientific trial and error. Andrew runs simulations on the iPad before they adjust the formula each time fails—something that Thomas is especially grateful for when the simulation for one particular change involves a small explosion. It hardly absolves them of error, every slight change resulting in something different. In some ways, it serves to remind Thomas one thing he loved about chemistry: it had always been precise and measured. One small change could lead to a very different reaction.

Even when Thomas can feel his frustration rising, Dr. Washington and Andrew make him laugh. Andrew’s nerdiness rivals Thomas’s own, and Dr. Washington’s sarcasm seems to have continued in the years since Thomas had her for class. While they waited for the current fluid to boil, he and Andrew swapped opinions about Kingdom Hearts 3 and Marvel (with a healthy debate about Captain America’s arc in Endgame) and musicals.

“It’s a shame that Dr. Washington is a musical hater,” Thomas teases, being sure to speak loud enough that it was obvious he wanted the professor in question to hear.

Andrew shakes his head, tapping a few things on the iPad in his lap. Through the speakers in the lab, Thomas hears a familiar song that’s a quick change from the music of The Prom that they’d been listening to a moment ago. It’s Hairspray. Specifically, “Run and Tell That”.

Dr. Washington’s eyes flicker up across the room to the two of them. “Andrew, I will forever regret telling you that.”

Thomas raises his eyebrows. “Tell you what?” Andrew has an amused glint in his eyes as he meets Thomas’s gaze, then looks to his board. Thomas leans over. “She told me she was M-A-Y-- Maybelle in a C-O-M-M-- community theatre P-R-- production.” Thomas looks at his old professor. “Wait… really?”

Dr. Washington shoots a mock glare at Andrew. “Traitor.”

Andrew laughs before Thomas reads his reply aloud. “If any of us are a T-- traitor, it’s you. You hate L-E-S Les Mis.”

Dr. Washington pulls the pencil out from behind her ear and points it at him. “Of all the musicals we can agree on, Andrew, you’re going to get hung up on one that I just happen to think is overrated?” Andrew shakes his head sadly. Dr. Washington snorts.

“That’s amazing,” Thomas replies. “I never knew you did theatre.”

Dr. Washington opens her mouth to reply, but sharp ding cuts off her response. The timer signals the need to add the activator and start the de-gassing process. It’s a sudden, sharp reminder of what he’s here to do.

…

Thomas blows out a breath as he spins the office chair in a lazy circle. It’s nearly 7 in the evening, and Dr. Washington had gone with Andrew to pick up some dinner for the three of them. Thomas had offered to stay behind and watch their current attempt slowly heat in the flask. The internet personality had written in his notebook that this was trial fifteen.

The empty lab is suddenly quiet, too. Andrew had given Thomas the iPad to play music, but he hadn’t selected anything. Instead, Thomas listens to the quiet gurgling of the fluid in the flask on the table in front of him, the whirring of the AC unit, and a distant, muffled voice of a professor giving a lecture in a nearby room. Not for the first time today, it takes Thomas back to his own time as a student and lab assistant. It felt like such a long time ago.

He’d always been interested in the environment and helping the world on such a big scale. Throughout high school, Thomas used to read articles about scientists engineering new biotechnology that could help slow deforestation, or developing alternative substances to harmful pesticides, or creating more environmentally-friendly methods of gas consumption. He’d always found it interesting, and though he was generally a pretty average student, he’d done well in chemistry.

He remembers talking to his Aunt Patty before he chose a major, during his senior year of high school. She was an elementary school librarian, and she’d been doing that for as long as Thomas could remember. When he asked her how she knew what she wanted to do, she told him to find where his passion intersected with his ability and to pursue it.

But it hadn’t always been that simple, either. Thomas was as passionate about performing as he was about the environment at the time. There was greater job security in an engineering job than trying to make it as an actor, so Thomas had chosen chemical engineering and decided that he could keep performing as a hobby. It had seemed like the most practical solution at the time.

But then he was introduced to Vine, and what started as goofing around on a social media app quickly turned his life around. In a few years, Thomas decided to make performing and social media his full-time job once he realized he could actually make a living out of it. It had fixed the practicality issue, and his fans were so incredibly kind. He realized that, maybe, he could make a positive difference in the world this way, too.

Thomas sighs, standing up to stretch.

Making a positive difference in the world was really his biggest hope with anything he did. It was true when he was a chemical engineer, and it was true now.

Now.

The thought stops Thomas short suddenly. The video he’d watched the other day flickers through his mind again. The card. The entire reason he was here in the first place was to help others, right?  But he thinks again about the video—the footage, the threat—and feels something uneasy settle in his stomach.

“We’re in way over our head, Thomas.”

Thomas jumps slightly. “What?” He’d been so lost in his roaming thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed that Virgil had risen up by one of the tables to Thomas’s left, in his familiar hoodie and a black shirt underneath. “What do you mean?”

Virgil shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, scowling. “I mean this isn’t our fight. Not really.”

Thomas blinks, taken aback. “I—”

“Look, Ekko made a threatening video but there are people in place to protect everyone. Police. Military, if it comes to that.” Virgil shakes his head, looking away from Thomas. “You just got these powers a few weeks ago. You can’t even control your sticking ability. And you really think you can just… take on this kind of fight?”

Thomas holds up a hand, his brow furrowing. “Virge… where is this coming from?”

“Common sense,” Virgil snaps. “Apparently, I’m the only one who has any of it.”

Thomas opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn’t know what to say. Maybe Virgil has a point. They don’t even really know what Ekko is capable of, or where to find her, or what she’s planning. Meanwhile, Thomas can’t even fully control his own abilities. He’d been getting better, sure, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Maybe not in time.

And there were people in place to help protect others. Thomas was just one guy.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of another one of his Sides rising up. Patton appears on the other side of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a vaguely disapproving look in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas thinks he sees Virgil roll his eyes.

“Kiddo,” Patton says to Virgil carefully, even as he casts a quick glance at Thomas, “you’re coming across kinda harsh there.”

“But I’m right,” Virgil replies insistently. He huffs a frustrated sigh. “Listen, all Thomas is doing is putting himself in harm’s way when he doesn’t even need to. Why not leave this up to the authorities?”

Patton’s expression softens slightly. “Because Thomas has the ability to do something. He should use it.”

“Why? Just because someone can doesn’t always mean that someone should, Patton.”

It’s another good point. Thomas still doesn’t quite understand why Virgil was coming forward with these arguments now as opposed to earlier, but he supposes it doesn’t much matter. Maybe because Virgil felt that the web shooter formula made the whole thing feel a lot more real and sudden. Thomas certainly felt that way. Maybe that feeling was stemming from Virgil.

“It does if it means doing a good thing,” Patton insists.

Virgil seems to bristle slightly. “If a cat is stuck in a tree and you don’t know how to climb a tree, what do you do? You call the fire department. You don’t risk hurting yourself in an effort to get the cat yourself when you aren’t qualified to do it.”

“But Thomas can climb a tree.”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“I know, but even in the metaphor. Thomas has abilities, Virge.”

“So that makes him qualified to get involved?” Virgil stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. Some of the edge is gone from his voice when he speaks again, but the underlying frustration hasn’t left. “Thomas is in over his head. And I don’t want him to get hurt tackling a fight that isn’t his in the first place. Sometimes you have to pick your battles, Patton. Why does Thomas have to choose this one?”

The question is met with silence.

Thomas slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and glances down at the linoleum floor between his feet. He studies the specks of blue amidst the white as if it will distract him from the tension in the room. The web fluid gurgling in the flask on the table between the three of them is the only sound for a long, uncomfortable moment. Virgil’s question seems to echo in Thomas’s head.

When Thomas finally glances up, Patton is looking at Virgil with something soft in his eyes. “Because it’s the one given to us. Maybe we don’t get to pick the battles, kiddo. Maybe… we lost that luxury when Thomas got these powers.”

“That’s not fair.”

Patton sighs. “It’s not. But with great power, comes great responsibility.”

Thomas swallows and nods. He speaks quietly, despite the weight he can feel settling in his chest. “And it’s my responsibility to do what I can to help. I… have to at least try.” He glances up at Virgil. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t give it that much.”

Thomas can see the tightness in Virgil’s jaw; something he can’t place flashes quickly through his eyes. “It’s not just Thomas at stake, you know. If he gets involved, he puts everyone he loves at risk. None of us want that.”

The reminder squeezes something in Thomas’s chest. “That’s why we’re making the suit, Virgil. To protect me and my loved ones.”

Even as he says it, though, he realizes Virgil’s point. The suit would only do so much. He looks around in the lab and realizes suddenly that he was putting Dr. Washington and Andrew at risk by involving them like he had. He’d almost asked Dahlia about advice on his suit construction and no matter how vague he’d been planning to keep it, it was still involving her. It was still putting her at risk, putting everyone at risk.

He had to stop. Nobody could know his identity, but nobody could be involved in this fight, either. Not unless Thomas was willing to risk his friends’ lives, and that… that wasn’t a price Thomas would ever be willing to pay.

“This… is my fight,” Thomas says, his voice tight. Patton and Virgil both look over at him. “But it’s mine alone. After today, nobody else gets involved. I can’t…” Thomas thinks about the look of raw fear in the hostages’ eyes during the bank robbery and the tearful, desperate reunion between Mikey and his mother. “I can’t take that risk.”

He sees Virgil opens his mouth but he’s cut off by the ding of the timer beside Thomas. The host blinks a second, forgetting for a brief moment what the timer had been set for in the first place. Then his gaze focuses on the flask in front of him. Right, Thomas remembers suddenly. Web fluid.

The timer meant that he needed to take it off the heat. Cool it down—which would occur quickly—filter and wash with C12H8O2, then add silica gel to purify the substance and… theoretically, it would be complete.

The rest of the process would take about five minutes. And then, well… Thomas could leave. He could keep Andrew and Dr. Washington from knowing the final product and maybe that would help protect them. When Thomas looks up again from the flask, Virgil and Patton have both left.

Thomas stands alone in the lab and keeps himself busy for the next several minutes walking methodically through the rest of the process. He can’t help his quick glances at the clock and the door, silently pleading that Andrew and Dr. Washington are at least longer than five minutes away. Thomas works in silence, but he barely realizes it. He just wants to finish this and get out as fast as he can.

He adds the silica gel and stirs it quickly with a glass rod. He can’t help the bubble of disbelieving laughter that bubbles in his chest as he watches the fluid react to the purifying process and oxidation, attaching to the glass rod as he pulls it out. The substance forms a cloudy-colored web of adhesion. It stays attached as Thomas tries to pull the glass rod out. It’s strong. So strong, in fact, that Thomas can’t pull it out.

Thomas grabs the other flask of the same substance that they’d had on stand-by (in case Thomas had been wrong about the filter liquid or the silica gel), and pours it into a vial with a stopper. He stashes some silica gel and C12H8O2 in separate vials. He shoves them into the outside pocket of his backpack before quickly shedding his lab coat.

Before he races out of the lab, he leaves a note and enough change to cover the dinner he wouldn’t be eating.

Had to rush out. Thanks for the help. -Thomas

...

WGP Tags: @captain-loki-xavier, @human-dictionary @the-peculiar-bi-tch @mining-pup @band-be-boss-blog @asexual-trashbag @samathekittycat @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @theobsessor1 @always3charcoaltea @changeling-ash @logical-princey @crimsonshadow323 @flickering-raven @smokeyrutilequartz @dontbugmeimantisocial @liz-a-bell @black-king-white-knight @soijusthavetoask @analogical-mess @marvelfangeek09 @dolphidragon @thelowlysatsuma @approximately12lbs-of-ducks, @princelogical

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You’re My Mission Pt.01

She Can’t Take Orders

9/20/2018

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 3,270

Masterpost (Will link later when I have created more posts and have need of it)

A/N: So of course, my browser crashes and I lose my original A/N. In short, I’ve spent some time studying Bucky and reading up on his history in the mcu. Hopefully I can do the character justice and remain loyal to who he is as an established character. As promised way back when I started my Thor x Reader fic, this will be an enemies to lovers fic. I don’t know how long I’ll make it because I don’t know how much story there is to tell. Anywho, I hope you like it and as always if you’d like to reblog it is much appreciated! xoxo

Also, if you would like to be removed from the tag list for this story, please shoot me an ask and I will do so. I will be creating two tag lists, one for The End of the World and one for this one.

Wakanda; a place that never in your life did you imagine yourself visiting. Partially because you were so secluded back home with absolutely no money to travel but also because Wakanda, as far as you knew, was a third world country. And with your limited scope of exposure to said country through media and news outlets, Wakanda seemed to be a country of farmers. Agricultural excellence but not much more. Not exactly a tourist destination.

Once you arrived, however, you found that fact to be very different from reality. A nation of farmers it is not.

Wakanda is amazing! So much culture, astounding technology, and incredible people. It was all so breathtaking when you arrived. And then you met Sergeant Bucky Barnes.

Captain America, or Captain Rogers as you call him, introduced him to you as Bucky Barnes, his best friend. Sergeant to you, since you were to he his cadet in training.

At first Sergeant Barnes had been aloof when he met you. He'd given you a once-over and shook your hand. Then Captain Rogers, Cap for short, told him he’d be in charge of training you and Sergeant Barnes made a dramatic shift into displeased acceptance.

He spoke few words to you and over the next two weeks he spent most of his time training you in weapons. Handguns, assault rifles, sniper rifles, submachine guns, and explosives. The hand to hand stuff would come later, is what he promised.

In your third week, you finally began to shine. You were good with guns. More than good. Though the sniper rifle still had you stumped, everything else was cake. You and Sergeant Barnes had found a, not necessarily comfortable rhythm, but one that worked for the two of you. Still, acclimating to be a soldier when all you'd ever been was a civilian was difficult.

And boy does it irritate Sergeant Barnes. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t like you which is fine as your eyes are set on a specific Captain who happens to be a lot nicer and saved your life. The blue eyes, blonde hair, and insane physique don’t hurt either.

Not that Sergeant Barnes is a troll. He’s muscular too. Hard, like steel. His hair is dark and long which honestly isn’t a look you’re into, but it looks soft. His eyes are a beautiful ice blue, but his pupils seem to be dilated most of the time, so it gives him a dark eyes vibe. His lips are larger than most other men's. Full and pink. But you can’t really tell how handsome he is despite the pleasing individual parts. He’s always scowling.

“Come on, speed it up, before someone else claims the room.” Sergeant Barnes leads you along long winding hallways turning so frequently you’re sure you won't be able to find your way out.

He is eager to get your drills done.

You aren’t sure if it’s because he wants you to train or if he just wants you out of his hair, which as you walk, he pulls up out of his face. He ties it into a half bun, leaving the rest to fall around his neck.

“Does your hair ever get caught in your arm?” You probe, rudely.

“What?” He demands, clearly irked by your question. “When we get there, stand at the center of the room.”

“Why?”

He looks back at you again, like he can’t believe you’re asking.

“Because that's where I want you.”

“Is the simulation difficult?” You wonder. You know that your questions are probably starting to irritate him, but you can’t help it. You’re nervous.

“I can make it difficult. And use your handgun. You won’t he needing your ACR.”

“But I like the ACR.” You protest.

“You’re not going to need it. Just use the handgun.” He says sternly. An order.

And yet, you can’t stop yourself. “Why?”

Sergeant Barnes stops walking and you barely skid to a stop and still bump into him.

He grabs your shoulders and pushes you away from him, glaring at you in annoyance. “Just do as I say, Cadet.”

He reminds you with that one word that you’re a soldier now and you need to follow orders. Unwilling to speak again and upset him even more you nod.

“What was that?” He demands.

“I was acknowledging your order.” You explain, confused.

“Then what do you say?”

You frown. You didn’t know he had such a large ego. “Yes, sir, Sergeant.”

He gives you a long look then leads you down the hall and into the simulation room.

Luckily, it's empty.

You stop right inside the door as Sergeant Barnes moves towards the control console and drops his bag behind it.

Suddenly he snaps his fingers and points at the center of the room without looking up at you.

You jump, remembering his instructions and hurry to the spot indicated. He joins you a few seconds later and lowers himself into a crouch.

You copy him and wait.

The simulation shimmers as it loads, and you and Sergeant Barnes are suddenly plunged into the gritty nightscape of New York.

It's all so real you stare in awe at the passing taxis and the projections of people walking on the sidewalk. One guy even starts arguing with another and a simulated fight begins.

You look all the way around you and find that you and Sergeant Barnes are each crouched behind a large green dumpster, only he’s directly across from you on the opposite side. You wrinkle your nose as the smell of the garbage assaults you. The way the alley asphalt feels beneath your fingers, the smell of the trash, the distant horns, the muffled music, the sound of people shouting and talking, everything about this simulation has been crafted for complete immersion.

“Okay, so we're gonna make our way towards that-Hey. Hey, Cadet! You listening?” Barnes snaps his fingers until you turn away from the city street and look back at him.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Focus. Alright?” He snaps, frustrated with you but that’s nothing new.

“Yes…sir.” You add as the afterthought. He doesn’t seem to care because he points at you. He then shifts his point down deeper into the dark backstreet and you follow his gesture to a door halfway down the wall on your side. It’s a simple steel door. Nothing special about it.

“We make our way in, I’ll go first, you follow close behind. You draw your weapon and watch my back. Got it? Do not engage unless I tell you to.”

“Yes, sir.”

Behind you a car backfires and you jump. Sergeant Barnes sighs heavily, fed up with you probably. He pushes himself up out of his full crouch and shifts into a half-crouch, shoulders pulled down, head also down but eyes up. His feet move quickly along the black asphalt and he’s so silent. No matter how many times you’ve seen him move like this, it still shocks you. He’s not as big as the Captain but he’s still large. Can men that large move like that?

You follow his lead and try and match his posture and gait. You trip but quickly regain balance and manage to do it without making a lot of noise. This alone is reason for you to be proud of yourself but Sergeant Barnes expects more from you.

He flattens himself against the wall and holds up three fingers on his normal hand and slowly counts down.

He places his metal hand on the handle.

Three…

Two...

One…

With a twist he breaks the handle and pushes the door open. You follow close behind him. He suddenly stops, pressing himself up against the wall just inside the door. You bump into him and he quickly sweeps his arm back in front of you, pushing you flat against the wall as well. He glares at you quickly, presses his metal index finger to his lips, and gestures at the wall beside him. You lean over, embarrassed by your muck up, and see that he’s showing you a doorway.

You look down at his arm, still held out across your chest, holding you flush with the wall. Why does this simple gesture make you nervous?

He looks down at your hands and stands up straight, dropping his arm, his face full of disbelief at what he sees. He sighs heavily again and when he talks his voice is so quiet but dripping with venom. “Where is your gun?”

Gun? Gun! You quickly fumble to unholster the handgun and hold it ready. You check the safety, to make sure it’s off—it is—and hold it pointed down at an angle towards the ground, your fingers not on the trigger but ready to move into position should the need arise, just as he’d taught you.

“You watch my back.” He reiterates, making his voice hard so you know that he means it.

You nod.

His own gun already drawn, he slips into the doorway and quickly fires two bullets. You hear the pop, pop. And then you move into the room after him. You turn to your left first, looking in the corners of the room in case someone might be hiding behind any of the boxes or random furniture in the room. As you are about to go double-check behind a particularly large box shoved into the corner you hear a sudden shift behind you and you quickly turn to look towards the doorway the two of you had just entered through.

A man dressed in black wearing a ski mask rounds the corner and you shoot him. You might be a klutz from time to time but if there’s one thing you have, it’s excellent aim.

Your bullets get him straight in the chest and the projection dissolves. You’re so elated, celebrating silently that you don’t notice the man that springs out from behind the box you’d been about to check. He fires a single shot at you. You feel the electric current shock you in the center of your back where his bullet hit your spine, then he turns his gun on Sergeant Barnes who wheels around, his gun raised, but then slowly stands up straight when two more bullets light up his chest.

He stares at you, his face full of disappointment and irritation.

“What did I say?” He demands, his voice quiet and tight.

“You said to watch your back.” You reply.

“No, before that. When we were preparing for today’s simulation, what did I say?”

You try and remember, and you realize your mistake. “Secure the room and duck for cover in case there are multiple shooters from different directions.”

“Do you not like to listen? Do you get some sort of pleasure from just ignoring everything I tell you?” He’s so frustrated that his voice is beginning to rise in volume. “You just got yourself and your partner killed. God I don’t…What the hell are you even doing here, Y/N?”

You look down at his feet, unable to make eye contact.

“I don’t know why you came here…why am I doing this?” He demands of himself. He reaches up and pulls his hair out of the small hair tie he’d used to keep it out of his face for the drill. He waves his hand over his head and the simulation begins to fall away leaving you and Sergeant Barnes standing in a large white room. “This is so stupid. You’re going to get not only yourself but someone else killed.”

As the real walls are exposed he stares over your shoulder towards the exit. He rips off his right-hand glove, snapping the material. The sound echoes around you, making you jump. You turn to look at whatever it is he’s looking at and spot Cap standing with his arms crossed over his chest. His beard is growing in. It’s just a stubble at the moment but he looks just as large and good as before. You try to hide the pleasure you get from seeing him, but you always fail. Of course, the pleasure you get from seeing your crush lasts only a second because you’re suddenly embarrassed that Cap had to have been watching and he saw your failure.

You turn back around, hands hiding your gun gently at your front, shoulders hunched.

Sergeant Barnes makes you flinch as he walks very close as he passes you. Not intentionally probably. The speed of his walk wafts his scent at you--men's soap and slight smell of peaches?

“I can’t do this anymore, Steve. I don’t want this…this person, to be my responsibility.” The way he says ‘person’ sounds a lot more like he means to say ‘nuissance’.

It makes you frown. You’re trying and all he sees are your mistakes.

“What the hell were you thinking, bringing her here? She can’t do this. She doesn’t listen. She’s easily distracted. She can’t take orders, Steve.”

“It’s only been a few weeks.” Cap reasons. You chance a sideways glance back at them and Cap is watching you. You see him observe your slumped stance. “Give her a chance. She’s trying.”

“Some people are not meant to be soldiers. Stick her in an office and give her something to read. She doesn’t belong in the field.” He’s talking about you as if you aren’t standing right there, hearing everything he’s saying about you.

It really is starting to irk you.

“She deserves a chance, Buck.” Cap says more sternly.

“Then give her to someone else. I’m done.”

“I didn’t take you for a quitter.”

“Well, the difference between you and me Steve has always been my ability to walk away and your inability to give up when you know you’ve lost.”

Their words are so loaded it makes the room feel heavy and uncomfortable to be in. Are you putting a rift between Captain America and his best friend?

You gasp as quietly as you possibly can so that they can’t hear you.

“Buck, you just finished your weapons training with her. Getting her skills up is going to take some time. She wants to fight for the people she lost. Are you going to deny her that?”

Silence.

“Get Natasha to do it. Or Sam.” Sergeant Barnes offers desperately.

“Sam and Nat or on assignment. This isn’t a request Buck. Either you train her or I put you out in the field. You don’t have any excuses anymore.” Cap's voice has shifted into stern authority as he gives Sergeant Barnes his two options.

You hear Sergeant Barnes growl under his breath and when he speaks his voice is directed at you.

“Meet me in the west field tomorrow at 0600, Cadet.”

You turn and nod, making your jaw tight.

Sergeant Barnes stares at you, looking you up and down before his eyes land on the gun in your hands. You’re holding it loosely at your front like you would a purse.

Three weeks ago, that’s exactly what it would have been.

Sergeant Barnes clenches his jaw, his eyes hard with annoyance as he looks away from you to Cap and gives him a blatant look of incredulity.

Without another word Sergeant Barnes walks out of the white room leaving you and Cap alone.

Cap watches him leave before he turns his blue eyed gaze upon you. He also looks down at your hands and slowly approaches you.

Your heart skips a beat as he stops a mere foot away from you then nervous flutters engulf the pit of your stomach as he reaches down towards your hands.

Your excitement is for naught however because he simply takes the gun from your hands and switches the safety on.

“Guns, even fake ones, are dangerous. Never hold one like this again. Okay?” Despite the chastising, his voice is soft and gentle.

You nod your head.

He steps closer and slowly puts the gun back in the holster at your hip.

“I know this has been tough. I know losing your parents like that-" He stops talking because he can see the tears in your eyes. Despite the water, your face is hard.

You’re trying so hard to resist feeling this. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to cry anymore. You don’t want to be fragile in front of Captain America. You want to show him that you're strong. You deserve to be here.

“I’ll do better.” You promise.

“Don’t try so hard.” He tells you softly. “Don’t fight your grief, Y/N or you’ll be stuck reliving it. If you want to cry then cry.”

His kind words, the soft tone in which he says them topples any resistance you have. You look down at his wide chest and since he’s already so close, you shut your eyes and lean your forehead against it as your tears spill over.

After a second he reaches up and wraps his left hand around the back of your head while his right rubs your left bicep as he tries to comfort you.

“You’re gonna be okay, Y/N. Just maybe try not to irritate Bucky so much?”

You pull back at his words and look up at his face, confused while he too looks down at your face with a grimace.

Both of you know that irritated Bucky is his natural state when you’re around and there isn’t anything that is going to change that.

Before you can reply, Cap's pocket begins to ring. He drops his hands from around you and he pulls out a simple flip phone. He looks at the number then up at your face.

“I gotta take this. One day at a time, Y/N.” He's already walking away from you. He flips the phone open and presses it to his ear. “Hey Sharon. I can talk. What are you doing?”

He’s smiling as he leaves the room, leaving you in a state of heartbroken disappointment. There's nothing worse than knowing your crush has a girlfriend.

The door suddenly opens again and you half expect it to be Cap but when it isn’t, and Sergeant Barnes walks in, you feel your heart sink.

He slows his walk as he spots you, still standing in the same spot when he'd left.

“You're still in here?” He asks.

You really wanna sass him, so you do. “Duh.”

He frowns at your response. “Is that any way to talk to your commanding officer?”

He moves towards the control center of the room and grabs his black bag from under the desk.

“I don’t know. Am I supposed to respect someone who insults me to other people while I’m in the same room?” You move towards the door, ready to be away from Sergeant Barnes and his bad attitude.

He's also headed towards the door which means the two of you meet beside it. He’s frowning as he reaches it.

He looks at you, really looks at you as you move to push the door open.

“Were you crying?” He suddenly asks. His voice isn’t hard or irritated. Curious a little.

You’re so embarrassed at being caught however that you don’t notice the shift in his tone.

You take your hand off the door and reach up to wipe your cheeks and eyes.

“What do you care?” You grumble.

“Because of me?” He demands, upset. Probably with you for being so weak and childish. If he really thinks you’re crying because he gave you a hard time, he must seriously think you’re a child.

“No, not because of you. Because of my parents.” You push the door open and begin to head out but a metal hand closes around your wrist, keeping you from leaving.

“You said they died, right?” He asks.

You really don’t feel like talking anymore. Especially not about your parents and definitely not to Sergeant Barnes.

“Yeah. Now if you don't mind,” You yank your wrist from his grip. “I’ve had enough of your shitty attitude for one day.”

He lets you go, glaring at your words. “0600, twerp!”

@bionic-buckyb @mdgrdians @ulired @biawol @markusstraya @queenof-wakanda @slice-of-thunder @clockworkherondale @shonaldo @lilulo-12 @dsakita @just-trying-to-survive-marvel @coldfacedwarf @zoey-odinson-stark @animegirlgeeky @paetonsfandom @caramelsunrise @until-theend-oftheline @a-n-gela @dirtylittlelamb @moonlessnight14 @calliope-musings

[jaymimic-blog]

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp Hack - Unlimited Leaf Tickets 100%Free

Here we introduce the one and only Animal Crossing Pocket Camp Hack & Cheats by which a game user can get ample of leaf tickets for free of cost. But before knowing more about animal crossing pocket camp hack tool we should see some things regarding the game.

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp Gameplay

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In this section, we’ll talk about the walkthrough of the game, what all activities you can do in the game and have more fun. Animal Crossing pocket game is a social simulation game where you interact with different animals in the area and perform different tasks. You can also customize your avatars, their living spaces. You also get the chance to trade materials and favors for the decorative items present in the game.

The game is all about creativity, how beautifully, you can decorate and place and perform the tasks in time. In Pocket Camp, you decorate the campsite in the town, and then you must gather materials like wood and cotton that you can trade with furniture orders. The player-character also befriends neighboring characters and then you can ask them to visit the player’s campsite. Other humans are invited at random.

The player’s avatar can travel to multiple locations. You can go to Sunburst Island or Saltwater Shores; you can also roam around in the marketplace where you can buy furniture and avatar clothing. Your customization options in the game extend to your avatar’s gender, facial traits, and vehicle abode as well.

In the game, your neighbors in the nearby “recreation sites” will reward you with crafting materials for completing requests. Then, there you have one local blacksmith/carpenter who can turn these things into furniture, pools, and new locations. The best part of the game that you would be able to attract specific neighbors by putting their furniture that they like at the campsite. After each visit, you would see an increase in the relationship’s experience level. If you have played the previous versions of the game, you can also fish and pay off a debt similarly to their home.

As we discussed that this mobile game introduces the microtransaction currency, Leaf Tickets that can be used to reduce in-game timers or you can also craft without raw materials with its help. You can get leaf tickets by completing in-game tasks, or you can also buy through the real-world currencies. You can also trade your currencies for special event furniture, and that would help to attract special characters to your campsite. Nintendo is planning to launch some seasonal events and some furniture that would have limited availability.

Animal Crossing Pocket Camp Characters

A lot of people have been asking about the number of animal characters in the game then don’t worry, here is the list of main 17 characters in the game that you would come along while playing.

1- Isabelle: Birthday12/19

This is an expert character on the campsite. If you have any confusions or questions about a campsite, Isabelle knows the answer for the same. He’ll tell more than you think or expect. She is always there at the town hall satellite office, and ready for giving support to anyone who needs help.

2- Cyrus: Birthday1/25

He is an expert craftsman, you name the thing, and he’ll build it for you. Cyrus can build any furniture that you want. And on the top of that, he also delivers them at the right time. He and Reese have their mobile shop on the Road. They are even capable of crafting larger things like tents and treehouses.

3- Reese: Birthday7/4

She is mostly busy with here retail shop, but she also helps her husband in managing the thing in crafting business. Together, they are running their entrepreneurial dream. LOL

4- Giovanni: Birthday9/5

You must have Giovanni as a friend! He will always keep your motor up and run. He always has some nugget of earthy wisdom to dispense to his customers.

5- Beppe: Birthday7/17

Beppe is OK Motors ‘and good in his style. He’s a king of giving new paint job to your camper if you have one. But if you are looking something apart from the paint job then he is good for nothing. Do not let him work on your engine!

6- Carlo: Birthday5/2

He is a jack of all trades and expert in none. He is the main wrench at OK Motors, Carlo only knows the nitty-gritty of being a mechanic. But you can bestow the responsibilities of small tasks on his shoulders.

7- Timmy: Birthday6/6

Timmy sometimes likes to get away from the job and set up shop at Market Place. Don’t forget to stop by his place and check out some cool things that he has got his shop.

8- Tommy: Birthday6/6

Whenever Tommy is bored with hustle and bustle of city life and needs some different time, he directly goes to Market Place to sell things. He does everything in an old-fashioned way and spends most of his time in his truck only.

9- Mabel: Birthday5/21

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She is a fashion freak, always love to wear new clothes. If you were her smile at Market Place, you have good clothing and accessories that she likes, and soon she’ll buy something from you.

10- Sable: Birthday11/21

She is always busy with her sewing machine Whether she is at home or on the road. She is always busy with her sisters to sell out the things that she makes from her mobile store.

11- Labelle: Birthday10/30

Labelle has studied under fashion legend Gracie. She makes amazing hats and other fashion accessories as well. So, if you are looking for something cute and couture, you know whom to meet.

12- Kicks: Birthday11/29

This skunk runs a shoe shop named kicks after his name only. Market Place seems to become more fashionable every time he comes up with the new design.

13- Lloyd: Birthday8/27

He is always busy in mining conditions at Shovel strike Quarry. He seems to be the busiest person in the town. He’s always in the market, searching for minerals and offers Bells and craft materials in exchange.

14- Jay: Birthday7/16

His Preferred theme is sporty, and Favorite Furniture is stripe sofa. He is a confusing person who is not brave but believes in his willpower, and he also wants to succeed badly.

15- Apollo: Birthday7/3

His most preferred theme is the cool theme, and favorite furniture is the modern sofa with Stern of brow and beak. He’s very often misunderstood by the people because of his appearance.

16- Goldie: Birthday12/26

Her preferred theme is natural and favorite furniture is the couch. Goldie’s luxurious locks are famous in the marketplace in the town for their natural fluff and sweet aroma. A lot of people ask her, what’s the secret behind her aroma but she smiles and says, there is no secret.

17- Rosie: Birthday2/26

Her preferred theme is cute, and favorite furniture is lovely love seat.

She is a kind of a celeb in town. If you come across frenzy crowd in the marketplace, probably Rosie’s on the other side of it.

 Animal Crossing Pocket Camp Hack Review

The animal crossing pocket camp hack has received the praise worldwide. After the release of the cheat tool, it has been downloaded more than 1million times that itself shows the popularity of the hack all around the world. The animal crossing pocket camp hack is perfect fun if you are playing with friends it gives the perfect simulation of the real world. The free leaf tickets in the game are also very funny and cute.

After the launch of Nintendo’s Super Mario Run and Fire Emblem Heroes, this was the third most anticipated game. I would say the animal crossing pocket camp hack has got a pretty good start as it crossed the 1million mark within a week. According to the gaming experts, it would touch the 5million mark soon the way it’s growing.

We compare the number of downloads in the first week then Mario Run and Fire Emblem Heroes had around 3 million and 1 million downloads, respectively. According to Sensor Tower’s data if you ask which game is the most popular among all three then certainly number tells a lot. Super Mario comes. First, Animal Crossing Hack comes second whether Fire Emblem stands as the third position.

If we scrutinize this number of downloads, then we can clear idea how much money this app is making, but Sensor Tower did not have those figures. But when it comes to app’s success, the app is free to download, the number of in-app purchases would only decide the revenue generated by the app.

In that regard, it would be quite impossible to say how much money Pocket Camp Hack is making, since the animal crossing pocket camp cheats have the 1 ranking in the top games hack list on the google. That’s not very bad on the list of millions of apps. But we won’t be able to predict the exact numbers. So, we have just to wait and watch the time Google reveals its numbers. We can’t say whether this game would be a financial success for the company or not.

But, regarding popularity, it certainly has gained some momentum, the app is having around 2 million downloads daily, if it keeps on growing at the same speed, it will reach more than 100million within three months. If you have played the game, don’t forget to share your experience in the comments below. We would happily add your review to the article if possible.

[dbarajas03-blog]

MYSTERIO

Before becoming Mysterio, Beck was a special-effects wizard who worked for a major studio and had dreams to make a name for himself in the film industry. He became one of the most accomplished special effects designers in the industry, but due to lack of recognition, he wanted to become an actor. However, he lacked the looks and talent to be a star. When a friend of his jokingly suggested that the quickest way to become famous was to take out a costumed hero, Beck realized that his expertise in illusions could make him an effective super-villain. Choosing Spider-Man, then a relatively weak and inexperienced target, Beck prepared his resources for a few months before attempting to eliminate the wall-crawler. Mysterio, his chosen identity, became one of Spider-Man's most elusive and persistent foes.

Powers and Abilities

Quentin Beck does not possess superhuman abilities but he is an expert designer of special effects devices and stage illusions, a master hypnotist and magician and an amateur chemist and roboticist. He has extensive knowledge of hand-to-hand combat techniques learned as a stuntman, allowing him to engage in combat with Spider-Man despite his foe's superior physical abilities and using his skills at misdirection as a further method of self-defense. Mysterio's suit includes many devices to aid him. His helmet is made of one-way plexiglass, meaning he can see out but no one can see in. The helmet also includes an air supply to protect him from his own gases, sonar to navigate within his mist cloak and a holographic projector to create 3D illusions. His boots contain magnetic coil springs which allow him impressive leaps as well as the ability to cling to surfaces. Mysterio's costume contains nozzles in the boots and wrists that can release a constant stream of smoke that shields his movements. He can mix other chemicals into this smokescreen for various effects, including a gas that dulls and inhibits Spider-Man's spider-sense, a gas that causes paralysis for 30 minutes, an abrasive that eats away Spider-Man's webbing, hypnogens that make those around him more susceptible to his will and hallucinogens to cause vivid hallucinations. A combination of the hypnogens and hallucinogens, along with his holographic projectors, are how Mysterio achieves most of his illusions. The costume sometimes also includes offensive weaponry, such as lasers or knockout gas nozzles in the eye emblems on his shoulders, or electric coils within his cape to electrocute those who touch it. For the second Mysterio, Daniel Beckhart, he had all of the original Mysterio’s tricks. For Francis Klum, a mutant who takes the second Mysterio’s costume to have revenge against Spider-Man. Klum can psionically compel other people to perform actions, even those that they would not voluntarily perform, such as drug use or suicide. He can also teleport items for one place to the other and teleport himself and one other. This, however, drains his energy. 

Bio

In Amazing Spider-Man #2, Beck studied Spider-Man, wanting to emulate the wall-crawler and eventually take his place as a costumed crimefighter. Under the guidance of the Tinkerer, he became a convincing alien but was defeated by Spider-Man. Afterward, he tried to pose as Spider-Man but defeated yet again. Unable to best the wall-crawler on his own, Mysterio sought strength in numbers. Early in his career, he and five other members of Spider-Man's rogues gallery united under the leadership of Doctor Octopus - brilliant, respected scientist turned tentacled terror. The inaugural incarnation of the Sinister Six also included the shifty Sandman; Kraven the Hunter; the high-flying, lowdown Vulture; and Electro. The villains' master plan: Pummel the wall-crawler one by one until one of them would manage to defeat him. The outcome: Spidey 6, bad guys 0. He became one of Spider-Man's more frequent villains. He once took on the alias of psychiatrist Ludwig Rinehart and nearly convinced Spider-Man that he was insane, and should reveal his secret identity.  Back in prison, Beck had an epiphany of sorts; he realized that master criminals spent more time avoiding capture and battling foes than they did accumulating wealth and gaining power. He devised a quiet, long-term plan, a nursing home scam whereby he would trick the infirm into signing all their wealth over to him. To this end, he made use of his cellmate, Daniel Berkhart, taking him into his confidence, teaching him all his secrets and training him to replace him as Mysterio, even as he engineered his own "death". Berkhart was released and he confronted Spider-Man but was defeated eventually. Not only has Mysterio attacked Spider-Man, but Daredevil as well. Beck was succumbing to cancer and decided to drive a hero insane, choosing Daredevil. After finding out Daredevil's true identity, he brought together an elaborate scheme that entailed portraying an innocent baby as the Anti-Christ, framing Foggy Nelson for murder, and tricking Matt Murdock's ex-lover Karen Page into thinking she was a carrier of H.I.V. due to her past as a porn star. After hiring Bullseye to locate Daredevil and the baby, Karen Page died while protecting Daredevil from him. Eventually, Mysterio was confronted by Daredevil, but when Daredevil refused to give the illusionist the pleasure of killing him personally, he decided he had nothing else to live for and took his own life.  After the events of Ultimatum, Mysterio made next attempt to become the next crime boss of New York City; he reappeared in Fisk Towers and blasted Wilson Fisk out of his skyscraper, plunging him hundreds of feet to the ground. He later tried to rob New York City's Federal Reserve Bank by releasing a hallucinogen in the middle of the city as a distraction. However, Mysterio was again foiled by Spider-Man and managed to escape with a renewed grudge against the hero. Using another hallucinogen and explosives, Mysterio created a simulated Hulk rampage and blew up parts of the Queensboro Bridge to further the charade. Spider-Man interfered in order to stop the Hulk and help people escape; though he quickly realized this was a trap, it was too late, as Mysterio set off explosives all around Spider-Man, ending with Spider-Man unconscious, and Mysterio victorious. However, the Shroud came in and helped Spider-Man out. 

Significance

Mysterio seems to appear in a lot of Marvel’s superhero stories, however, he is not a very popular and familiar character, Though not having powers, Beck’s gadgetry is excellent as it has fooled Spider-Man, Daredevil, and other heroes. As for Klum, this further proves that Mysterio would make a great villain in the MCU and be great as showing supervillains don’t need a lot of powers. Though the villain is rarely successful in getting revenge, he has determined and devoted a lot of time to perfecting his gadgets and traps. In conclusion, Mysterio is an underrated villain who definitely deserves some recognition from almost obtaining Spider-Man’s identity from some tricks. I think in the MCU they can further his story, to show that he does not always lose. 

References:

http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Francis_Klum_(Earth-616)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mysterio#Powers,_abilities_and_equipment

https://www.marvel.com/characters/mysterio-quentin-beck

http://marvel.wikia.com/wiki/Quentin_Beck_(Earth-616)

[waringawaw153-blog]

How to get Farming Simulator 17 Free

Although simulation activities have been known for ages, Farming Simulator kicked off the farming genre. Other farming games be, yet nothing competes with this iconic series. FS17 brings mod foundation and fresh attributes to Xbox One also MACHINE, but is that enough to substantiate passing over the money?

The Farming Simulator series created with Farming Simulator 2013. Since then, sequels have happened every a couple seasons for LAPTOP and console. Farming Simulator 16 was a harbor of 15 for mobile and PlayStation Vita.

Everybody understands this is a simulation activity in which people desire tractors and other farming machinery, grow plants and stock, and handle the fiscal aspects of a farm. So let's look at most of this time new functions and how much they improve the game.

In the two included maps, Goldcrest Area is mark new and set in the USA. The other map, Sosnovka, develops with Asian Europe. Originally published as downloadable articles for Farming Simulator 15, it has been remastered with greater idea quality. Farming Simulator games always launch with no more than two places, which is a bit skimpy.

For the first time in the chain, we can want to participate because also a man or female farmer. This will make the game more compelling to new audiences. It's definitely a step up the right way. However, the game still gets place for further variety.

The two characters you can choose from, one per gender, are both white. You can't change their skin color, but you could pick out the color of the shirts. Giants Software is situated in Switzerland, a mostly white voters. In games like this, targeting a global audience, developers must think players of new races as well as their own.

The overall goal in Farming Simulator has always been to buy all the takes on the place and spread the farm as large as possible. That stage in '17, but the developers added a hail dose of form using the new assignment system.

Each buyable scenario of earth is owned by a player who offers to pay people for finishing missions. These missions become an excellent way to make money. After you've completed all of a farmer's missions, he'll push the topic designed for a much worse cost than if you'd wanted to get this outright.

Drivable trains add a fun another factor for the sport. Players have several files on all place. You don't have to get them before pay maintenance costs, and you can jump directly in them by wherever on the map.

Cruising in now trains and having the landscape is enjoyable on its, but they're also a great way to transport materials with wood for sale. You use a claw-game like crane to weight stuff onto the exercise and then head to the adjoining selling point.

Farming Simulator 15 was not the interesting up for. The worst offender became its surface maps. Comparing ground textures between '15 and '17 on Xbox One, I detect a little increase with attribute. The textures in '17 live precisely below standards to the console, which is a real shame. Still, '17 does apparently have strengthened mip mapping, so textures retain detail at the higher space than now '15. Foliage is slightly more described, and pale has found better too.

As for sound, Giants has increased two in-game radio sections to participants can toggle while making autos (and optionally, by base also). The harmony is nothing special, but it presents for a more varied experience than listening to the measure of character for hours on end.

Mod leg was pushed as a key characteristic of Farming Simulator 2017 ahead of the release, particularly during the period to mods for the PlayStation 4 variation of Fallout 4 were looking rocky. Now that the game is here, the nonsense appears to include lived for naught – at least by consoles.

Mods are registered specifically for the right screen menu, so they're easy to recover. The store lists several different classifications of downloadable items, and some extra categories like Latest and Most Downloaded. Trouble exists, among those categories, the Xbox One account just say 31 total mods at here.

All but one of those mods are easily farming tools not significantly different from those involved with the game anyway, though several seem to suggest enhanced thing. The solitary non-equipment mod changes gameplay somewhat by disabling camera difficulty with cars. Its author is Big Software. The Places category doesn't need a single point yet.

Like Farming Simulator 15, '17 supports 6-player online co-op. Players can pick who can write their game – random players, friends, or call only. After an individual wants to join the game, you'll receive a prompt asking whether to allow them to participate or not. Nobody will be messing around with your farm and funds without authorization, that is fine.

The ability to join competition is unnecessarily complicated by the game's holding of downloadable content (DLC). Should the host include any DLC or mods enabled, participants may just be able to join the game if they own the same DLC. You end up having to turn DLC down (the option thankfully presented every time you worry a bar game) in order to play multiplayer, only therefore that many people may reach.

A greater implementation would increase the data for all DLC to all players, even if they don't acknowledge that. And then they could contact the host's cars in multiplayer, but not on their own. Alternately, the game may prompt you to download any missing DLC about entering the game. As it happens, you can't even tell that content you're missing - you only get rejected.

Upon successfully joining a multiplayer game, everyone shares the same vehicles, wealth, with reserves which go on the crowd. You can leave working together as a group. This is fun in the relaxing, social way. But as with other areas with the competition, complex numbers with decisions threaten to ruin the fun.

For instance, player character standards have laughably bad life. When you start, that appears to help additional players like you basically moved up to the fresh air then defeat over. The perfect doesn't need a flying animation. Going with tracking looks awkward as well.

Another great trouble with multiplayer is Achievements. Persons that sign up for the host's game may earn Achievements, which is bad, but not entirely unusual. About sports only allow the first player to have them. Yet '17 goes a move farther by not even letting the host participant to earn Achievements in multiplayer. You can load up the exact same place from your single person game, although if perhaps another player reaches in, you won't be able to earn Achievements.

Games like this really need Achievements to provide targets and organize to persons, so arbitrarily not being able to make them when using friends is thoroughly unproductive. I talk with the developers about the question at E3 shortly after Farming Simulator 15 came out, but however, they preferred not to address the issue in this sequel. I wonder when the public responsible of '17 play many other games.

Farming Simulator 17 offers 17 Achievements / Trophies happening the entire systems, a move down through the 26 Successes in Farming Simulator 15. I suppose they care for the Achievement count to match the year with the activity. Some are easy, like as lower down 50 woods or gain a 3-point killed in the new (but bad) basketball minigame.

This year, players just should earn one million currency rather than ten million. You can apply our Easy Money Trick to make a cinch, as well as knock not on the 'play for ten hours' Achievement. There is once over an Success for locating 100 collectibles, and you only must realize 10 before the rest show up on the road. The rest involve breeding animals, harvesting 10 hectares of ground, and finishing all jobs for the NPC farmers. Stay tuned for our full Achievement Leader with ideas for all of these.

FS17, like '15 otherwise this, is a major blow upon COMPUTER. We can safely put on a fair console audience as well. That may well seem funny to action-addicted gamers, but a match with certainly no violence may always be fun. It's a Farming Simulator Series farmsimulator.eu calm experience somewhat akin to playing Minecraft in Creative mode.

We know that sequence is a load of income. I merely wish more of these money might be met for the display. There's absolutely no cause Farming Simulator 17 must come across so dangerous because it sort out. The physics are certainly terrible in many places. And a lot of clunky gameplay factors such as hitching trailers could certainly become developed, only when the designers studied other games.

Seriously, I hope they'd spend some good hours about Minecraft then deliver some of the belief to live ultimately rank in other activities over to Farming Simulator. One must deal with a lot of rough edges to enjoy FS17. But if you can do that, that absolutely offers a deep farming event and lots of realistic licensed machinery.