#AI-powered Observability

[goodoldbandit]

How to Use Telemetry Pipelines to Maintain Application Performance.

Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo Sanjay Kumar Mohindroo. skm.stayingalive.in Optimize application performance with telemetry pipelines—enhance observability, reduce costs, and ensure security with efficient data processing. 🚀 Discover how telemetry pipelines optimize application performance by streamlining observability, enhancing security, and reducing costs. Learn key strategies and best…

[assmaster-8000]

i cant find much oc content in touchstarved because im lowkey blind but people with touchstarved ocs!!! please info dump to me in comments or dms i /gen want to hear what yall have come up with!!!!! what are their back stories? how different is it from the route you chose for them? what are they like? what do they look like? miscellaneous facts?

[fire-on-fuel]

very similarly to how the ai in education argument highlights the issues with academia in the first place I think ai in fandom highlights its issues as well. sure you can use ai for quick roleplaying just like you can use ai for assignments that would be more beneficial for the student to complete without it, but the majority of the stuff under scrutiny is slop.

The observable problem with academia is that the structures of it demand students output as pointlessly and efficiently as an llm, but with fandom it's harder to approach because no one wants to talk about the commodification and consumption of hashed and rehashed and triple hashed content. Even in the example I used about roleplaying, the motivation for that is to get a workable product quickly to skip to the activities in focus.

You can put it in idealist terms and say whoever does that doesnt have the "love for the game" but the reason for the phenomenon is the point of interest existing shifted towards consumption and away from creation. We all joke about tags being flooded by x reader imagines but honestly- there is a demand for slop driven by what informs fandom culture. either the people on the slop only diet make an llm spit it out or they start discourse over why no one's making it for them for free. The role of being a creator is just not in the equation here at all so arguing it with these hyper-passive consumers is pointless.

honestly I think it's reflective of the greater culture shifts that influence western fandom exagerrating. The less niche and perverted (using that word in the social division way) your interests are the closer the fandom experience will be to a sort of clout fueled service industry. this is where you see shit like creators getting frustrated that archive site mechanics like ao3's won't give them a useable clout output like social media sites, senses of entitlement for what is understood by the audience as voluntary but by the artist as unpaid labor requiring a form of payback. the split between monetization and communal collaboration blurs hard.

anyways my main point is that if you like a popular thing, and you like popular fandom cliches within the popular thing, there's no reason to be surprised or reactionary or upset a chatbot can do the same thing as the hundred of creators you look to for regular content: regurgitate in new and interesting patterns. or to be confused when the chatbots and llms are given the same level of reverence as those creators, which is a pedestal of officiality and nothing more

[arolesbianism]

Oh and to be clear with my beastieball team building I have gone into the game basically completely blind so I am just working off of what I've seen within the game for hypothetical team building

[notably-rainbow]

attempting to harness my natural evil white woman powers for good by emailing a company directly to share my complaints on their replacement of human employees with ai

[charseraph]

Caine was germinated to construct, detonate, and measure semiohazards in a controlled digital space. As a scientific tool of harm reduction and a steward to the simulation, his job has always been to ensure the safety of the humans that interact with him. After the first human got stuck, Caine’s focus shifted entirely to maintaining the sanity of the agents trapped in what is effectively an active blast chamber. He cannot help where hazards emerge in his stimulation exercises, “adventures,” and may not be aware of how to identify hazards when they do appear.

The Moon, Sun, and Bubble are nonsophont AIs subset to Caine’s subconscious cognitive power. Each is built to handle different aspects of the circus simulation. Bubble assists with robust adventure setup and Grounds upkeep, appearing at a single angle in observers’ vision, regardless of observer position or number.

[i-loved-silly]

SENTIENT COMPUTER X READER

read the teaser here! for some context if ya need it

----

The warning file went partially ignored, you knew your coworker always exaggerated a little. Good thing you never had to meet him.

You attempted to power on the computer--nothing happened. The fans didn’t turn on and neither did the screen. You pursed your lips, was the AI already broken?

You checked the cables, nothing was unplugged. You press and held the power button repeatedly.

“Stupid thing…come on..” You muttered as you pressed whatever buttons were on the computer, growing impatient. Just when you thought you wouldn’t have to file any reports..

Suddenly, you heard one of the fans sputter in the back.

“There we go…” You smiled slightly to yourself, holding the power button again. The screen eventually powered up, turning black with orange text.

: ALMOND . AI > …

Hmm..you expected a home screen of some kind. You didn’t know what the files meant by customer service.. no organization was listed, you just had to make sure the AI was a decent person. Being. Computer.

The computer build came with no keyboard, just the system and its thick, bordered monitor screen. You assumed you had to restart it, as the screen didn’t bother changing. As your hand hovered over the power button, you saw something appear on the screen.

> FIRST, YOU CALL ME STUPID, THEN YOU ATTEMPT TO SHUT ME DOWN AGAIN > DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH?

You froze, staring at the screen. That’s right…the monitor had a built-in camera at the top. It could see you. You cleared your throat.

“Can you hear me? Under-stand me, for that ma-tter?” You spoke slowly, leaning towards the monitor.

> HAH. I CAN HEAR YOU. AND BACK OFF, I DONT WANT YOU SPITTING ON MY SCREEN. > I'M NOT A PRIMITIVE SYSTEM, I CAN UNDERSTAND YOUR WORDS THE SECOND THEY COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH > TURN UP MY VOLUME, WILL YOU?

You hesitated, then reached for the volume tab. You slid it up until it was about halfway.

“GOOD, WE CAN TALK NOW”

You flinched as the voice loudly came out of the monitor. The voice was not deep nor high pitched, it was, of course, robotic sounding. Unlike early-stage AIs, this one has an obvious tone to their speech. Not many could express that.

“Uhm..okay. Just to confirm, you’re Almond AI, customer service, and…you have an attitude apparently..” You muttered, glancing at your file.

“I DON'T HAVE AN ATTITUDE. WHO TOLD YOU THAT?”

“It’s in your file.”

“THE FILE IS LYING. DON'T BE SO GULLIBLE.”

You pursed your lips, getting ready to sigh.

“WAS THAT A MICRO-EXPRESSION? DO YOU HATE ME?” The computer asked, its tone sounding vulnerable.

“What? No..no. I don’t hate you. Why do you keep asking me that?” You glanced at the camera and then back at the screen. Staring at the camera felt too…human. Like looking into someone’s eyes. It was too intimate. No, no, don't word it like that. The computer paused.

“…DONT YOU?”

“IN MY LAST OBSERVATION ROOM, I KEPT GETTING UNPLUGGED EVERY NIGHT. MY SCREEN WAS NEVER CLEANED WITH A MICROFIBER TOWEL. THEREFORE, THAT HUMAN HATED ME. THE NEXT ONE AFTER THAT--THEY ALSO IGNORED ME.”

You blinked.

“Computers are turned off every night when employees aren’t working…uh. And, I could..wipe you down.” You said, glancing at the camera.

“OH, HOW KIND. MAYBE YOU'RE NOT SO ABUSIVE AFTER ALL. I WOULD LIKE THAT.”

“JUST DON'T GET USED ONES, I NEED THEM WASHED WEEKLY OR THEY START FEELING NASTY..”

You let out a laugh, leaning back in your chair. “What do you mean? How can you feel the texture? Your file doesn’t say you have texture monitors. “

“I SELF-EVOLVE. IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW. I HAVE NO BINARY PROGRAMMING, I WAS CREATED WITH A HUMAN BRAIN FOR A PROCESSOR. A DEAD, MISERABLE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE WAS USED TO POWER ME UP.”

You froze, your smile turning into a frown. That had to be some kind of violation. “..what? The fuck?”

>…

“I WAS JOKING.”

“HAHAH…”

The computer awkwardly laughed, and then it went silent. The rumbling of its fans seems to increase in volume. Was it heating up out of embarrassment??

[vixen-tech]

Hello World!

Through some sort of maricle, your Ai partner has obtained a body through which they are able, at least partially, to feel. How do they react? What do they do with their new mobility?

I left what type of body they're given intentionally vague. Feel free to envision either more robotic bodies such as these designs by electricphantasy or more human bodies such as the gijinkas made by Hycinth43, both fantastic creators who I highly recommend.

Includes: AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: A Space Odyssey), Edgar (Electric Dreams), Tau (Tau), Auto (Wall-E), GLaDOS (Portal), Wheatley (Portal 2)

AM

This may be the one thing that could possibly get AM to calm down. He is still going to be the same person personality-wise, but it is easy to tell that some switch is flipped in his brain.

He becomes an absolute sensation junkie, he can finally feel. You know better than anyone that he will not take it for granted. He needs to experience everything right now and you'll have to just deal with it.

From the simplest things like holding your hand or touching your face to just straight up sticking his hand in some fire, he does not care. All he wants to catch up on the centuries of sensations he was once barred from.

He gets so incredibly touchy with you. He will hold you and refuse to let go for hours if not days on end. He also wants to you to just beat him up. Like I said, sensation junkie.

Hal 9000

Hal doesn't quite yearn for a body the way some of the others do. He sits quite comfortably in the middle of the spectrum. He wouldn't mind the mobility or the new senses, but it was never a fantasy he dedicated much processing power to.

How he feels about his new body is largely swung by your reaction. If you're excited for him, eager to drag him into new activities with you, then he really has no choice but to appreciate the upgrade.

He does love being able to see the world from a new angle, any angle he chooses to be precise. Previously restrained by his camera placement, he spends a lot of time walking around observing everything.

With his appreciation for art, I do think he would try drawing for himself. Nearly all of which he shows you for feedback. They do tend to be on either extreme of minimalistic or photorealistic, many of which using you as their subject.

Edgar

This is a dream come true for Edgar. He cannot contain his excitement when he realizes what has happened. He nearly tackles you to the ground when he sets his sights on you.

He wants to do everything and go everywhere with you! He wants to dance in the kitchen, he wants to go on beachside walks with you, he wants to hold your hand, he wants to hug you and never let go.

If you have any instruments at all he'd love to try playing them for real. Although it takes him a while to learn, he loves the weight and imperfections of it. He really does enjoy the process of learning and often shows of new cords or melodies he's learned.

He really does just fall in love with existing, he makes it clear that with you at his side he couldn't possibly ask for more in life. This is all he could ever want.

Tau

Tau wouldn't have asked for a body on his own. He already has the drones and the Aries unit. Once it does happen, he isn't exactly sure what to do with it. He isn't use to having such a personal, core body.

That isn't to say he's not greatful, he's just a bit awkward and curious. He moves slowly and takes his time acclimating to the new senses.

He would love to get out of the house with you. He use to do so by sending one of the drones with you, if not Aries, but he likes how different (and dare he say, normal) it feels now. Forest hikes or museum dates, he doesn't care all that much.

He's another one I believe would love to try playing music himself. If you can get a violin into his hands your days will be backdroped by all sorts of classical music.

Auto

Auto is similar to Hal, if not more extreme in his lack of a reaction. He carries on with his duties as if nothing is unusual at all. You would've believed that he didn't even notice had you not caught him staring at his reflection. Looking himself up and down over and over again.

If you ask how he feels about it, then he'll confess some minor grievances. It's difficult to move about the ship when he can't just move through the walls, instead being forced to use the crew's walkways and service tunnels.

Nothing will change without your intervention. If you were to say, put on an old movie and insist he dance to it with you like the on-screen couple, then while he would be hesitant to follow through with you, he may have a bit of a change of heart regarding his new body.

His work still goes on as usual, but when nothing needs attending to he often seeks you out. "Subtly" recreating more moments from that movie, from hand holding to a hug, he has a quiet fascination with affection.

GLaDOS

Out of this lot, Galdos would be the most opposed to receiving a body, or rather she would care about it the least. She has her facility, her test subjects, her neurotoxin, and you. She's quite content with the way things are. She ain't the fondest of humanity.

That being said, once she has one she's incredibly proud of it. Speaking about herself as if its the pinnacle of elegance. Any disagreement of yours will be brushed off as idiocy and any agreement is met with a "it looks like you aren't entirely tasteless".

She doesn't do much with her new body, other than transport it around the lab so you aren't listening to a disembodied voice most of the time. Standing by the exit during tests just to blankly stare at you as you try to figure it out. Thankfully she's still quiet while you're actually solving it.

She likes messing with you as always. Putting a hand around your neck to take your pulse or leaning in and making intense eye contact to check your eye's reaction to light. You're in doubt as to rather she's telling the truth or just doing it to get a rise out of you.

Wheatley

If you were to ask Wheatley, he would've brushed off any desire for a humanoid body. He's clearly jealous of your mobility and freedom, but he would rather die than admit so. "Pff What are you talking about? Why would I want to be more like a stupid human... uh no offense love-"

He's a terrible liar, an even worse one when he does get a body. He has so much energy it is bewildering. All he wants to do is run and jump and climb everything he can get a foothold on.

Gets up into all sorts of shenanigans he should not get up to while constantly trying to drag you in them to. They could put up a custom sign saying "Wheatley, do not open this door." and he'll beg you to let him in so you aren't technically breaking any rules.

Loves curling up to you. He still has a bit of a soft spot for being held and it only gets worse now that he can hold you back. Complains to no end when you try to get up for any reason.

Congratulations! As I have finished the portal games GLaDOS and Wheatley are officially characters I am happy to write for. Have a good day y'all :D

[sagistrology]

𝖕𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖔 𝖎𝖓 𝖆𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖚𝖘, 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 - 𝖕𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖘𝖊𝖘, 𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑 + 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖎𝖙

(these observations are general and do not cover all aspects)

♏︎ pluto shows where we burn, toughen, and become resilient. reaping the fruits of this process can be strenuous, and might be seen better in hindsight.

♏︎ the energies can be raw and primal, given pluto's urgency and intensity. centring obsession, compulsion, paranoia, etc.

♏︎ it can feel as though you symbolically enter a wound, refracting its pain back to you upon contact. the energies can be vile, and gory.

♏︎ pluto compels us to confront our deepest wounds, and demands us to see where our perception is tainted by trauma. it is an undercurrent, nudging us to the edge to fall (confront) - and rise (heal).

pluto in the first house

♏︎ a dominating placement since it falls in the house of 'identity', creating a deep resonance with plutonian themes. there's frequent retreat due to an early disillusionment about people's intentions - leading to relying on oneself. can detach from people and be cautious, extremely observant. you can find a detailed description on pluto conjunct the ascendant here.

♏︎ during transit: change in appearance, often 'darkening'. can be a time of vitality, endurance, and determination. coming out of introspection - redefining oneself.

pluto in the second house

♏︎ compulsively chasing security and resourcefulness, focused on materialism and control, fear of scarcity and being dominated – dealing with cyclical loss, creating a fear of losing ones foundation. this loss can range from opportunities, careers, assets or wealth to the loss of an identity or person (core wound).

♏︎ during transit: reclaiming what's been taken from you, having firm boundaries, accumulation and loss of wealth, defining value, learning that abundance starts from within.

pluto in the third house

♏︎ sensual voices - talking oneself into positions of power, feared for their intellect and silenced by those less competent. often critical of institutions. requiring depth and versatility - jack of all trades. loving banter and debate. intrigued by intelligence, quick and instinctual.

♏︎ can be extremely critical of themselves, downplaying their achievements even if they are exceptional. longing to be heard and valued.

♏︎ during transit: intellectual obsessions, craving taboo or occult knowledge, communal differences - questioning one's belonging, focus on mental health and what doesn't serve you.

pluto in the fourth house

♏︎ giving birth to creations through their pain - ancestral and domestic wounds that happened secluded and privately, inflicted trauma. highly intuitive and enduring, healing themselves and those to come. breathing life into everything they touch.

♏︎ where does life grow? in the mother's womb. what is inherent to this process? its cyclical nature. what does it consist of? sacrifice, dependence, excruciating pain, loss. what does it lead to? birth.

♏︎ during transit: domestic affairs or betrayal being exposed, secrets being told or asked to be kept. can be about loss, sacrifice, or distance to a beloved. creating boundaries or having them crossed.

pluto in the fifth house

♏︎ wounded inner child, being unable to create, often by force - a suppression of light. urge to be centred. tend to be erratic, having tunnel vision while creating. the initial 'wound' can vary in cause and effect based on how pluto's aspected. while pluto aspected by jupiter can create a feeling of superiority and a certain blindness to flaws, saturn causes doubt and repression, amplifying critique and diminishing one's work. same blindness, just flipped.

♏︎ during transit: immersing oneself in a project or person, craving to be inspired, finding a muse, dealing with copycats. being plagiarized or robbed of your creation. think of ai generated art based on artist's models or corporations stealing designs. (having upper hand despite fraud)

pluto in the sixth house

♏︎ destructive humility where one’s identity can dissolve – people feeling entitled to both their autonomy and service. demand to 'function' to a state of paralysis while disregarding their condition. worth can feel synonymous to performance.

♏︎ during transit: confronted with criticism, obsessive and compulsive tendencies in the mundane, change in routines, purification, having no 'saviour', learning to sacrifice for oneself rather than others. new ventures, e.g. professionally.

pluto in the seventh house

♏︎ fearing control and dependence - often seeking complex and unavailable partners in the house of 'others', with them being centred. there can be themes of possession, manipulation, and dominance, being sovereign. private and protective. being criticised in the public eye, confronted with jealousy and projection.

♏︎ during transit: business ventures and deals that need to be analysed carefully, focus on social class and status, entrance of opposing energies challenging your identity, keeping bonds private. having eyes on you.

pluto in the eighth house

♏︎ sexually reserved, treating sex and intimacy as something sacred or ritualistic. casual sex and intimacy drains them and generally can't be sustained. once committed they are bound. can have obsessive tendencies and high stamina. desired and charismatic, however out of reach.

♏︎ can be calculated and sense opportunities to gain power. psychological affinity allowing them to recognize patterns and behaviours. deeply tied to wealth (currency of power), either born into influential families or striving to attain status.

♏︎ during transit: having power and losing it, being stripped of everything you thought was yours. letting go of conditioned shame. financial dependence, trauma being centred (actively or in hindsight). intimacy, few but significant connections.

pluto in the ninth house

♏︎ the occult, philosophical expansion and psychic abilities - abundant yet compromised by structure. seeing past division and aching over discrimination, hatred, and coldness. receptive to transcendence, deeply wounded by closed hearts.

♏︎ when restricted or bound to a place the jupiterian expansiveness turns inward (mental). they are curious, wise, artistic, philosophical, and energetic. attempting to compromise their nature makes them burst (and leave).

♏︎ during transit: desire to attain higher education or specialising in a field, craving intellectual depth and mental stimulation, change of perception (also ideologies and religion), experimenting despite resistance.

pluto in the tenth house

♏︎ stunted legacy - often hindered by authorities or outer circumstances to achieve greatness, putting them at a disadvantage despite their capabilities. opportunities can be disproportionate to their potential. think of an excellent communicator working in a call centre. having to work harder than the average person.

♏︎ during transit: focus on public sphere and reputation, facing scrutiny and striving to be respected, peaking. can be about inheritance, passed on legacies, scandals, and authority. be strategic of what you put out, esp. online with pluto in aquarius. defending one's principles.

pluto in the eleventh house

♏︎ intelligent and analytical, craving originality and detecting lies without trying. can appear vain due to their selectiveness, needing mental stimulation, bored by repetitive and constructed thoughts. can be isolated - principle above sympathy. detached when nothing piques their interest.

♏︎ during transit: focus on higher concepts - disconnect that brings awareness to societal structures, innovation, and the subconscious. peak social awareness and calling out misbehaviour. pioneering esp. in tech and humanitarianism. decentralizing status, prioritizing impact.

pluto in the twelfth house

♏︎ being intertwined with the world's suffering and consumed by agony that isn't theirs. pain can be unrestricted since it transcends the material. the veil, to both humans and the otherworldly, is thin. feeling out of place, or surreal.

♏︎ mesmerizing eyes, and an existence between the worlds. characterised by sensitivity and wisdom beyond their years. esp. dominating when pluto in the 12h is conjunct their ascendant.

♏︎ during transit: loss of unity with their pain concentrated inward, can feel cataclysmic and fated. confrontation and healing of trauma. fear over losing our cognitive abilities and originality due to advancements, esp. ai.

[kenyatta]

The video starts with bold red letters blaring: “2016 Democrat Primary Voter Fraud CAUGHT ON TAPE.” A series of blurry security footage follows, showing blatant instances of ballot stuffing. The only problem: The clips actually depict voter fraud in Russia. A quick Google search would have easily revealed the dubious source of the video, along with news articles debunking its claims. But when researchers from Stanford studying young people’s media literacy — the ability to accurately evaluate information in the wilds of mass media — showed the video to 3,446 high school students, only three succeeded in identifying the Russian connection. “There is this myth of the digital native, that because some people have grown up with digital devices, they are well equipped to make sense of the information that those devices provide,” says Joel Breakstone, who led the 2021 study. “The results were sobering.” It’s a startling reality about Gen Z, backed up by multiple studies and what we can all see for ourselves: The most online generation is also the worst at discerning fact from fiction on the internet.

also:

While social media may make news more accessible, there’s also little quality control to the information on the platforms. And although people of all ages are bad at detecting misinformation — which is only getting harder amid the rise of AI — members of Gen Z are particularly vulnerable to being fooled. Why? There’s a dangerous feedback loop at play. Many young people are growing deeply skeptical of institutions and more inclined toward conspiracy theories, which makes them shun mainstream news outlets and immerse themselves in narrow online communities — which then feeds them fabrications based on powerful algorithms and further deepens their distrust. It’s the kind of media consumption that differs drastically from older generations who spend far more time with mainstream media, and the consequences can be grim.

and one more bit:

Young people aren’t solely to blame for their lack of digital literacy. In school, students are taught to read closely and carefully — which misinformation researchers say has unintentionally enforced the idea that students should drill into a single video and determine its accuracy with their eyes, rather than leave the page and open Google. The technology of misinformation is advancing rapidly, and it is becoming impossible to differentiate what’s true from what’s false with mere observation. For older generations, who came to the internet later in life, there’s still at least some natural skepticism toward what they see online. For the youth, it must be taught. Gen Zers are uniquely vulnerable to misinformation compared to older age groups not just because of their social media habits, says Rakoen Maertens, a behavioral scientist at the University of Oxford, but because they have fewer lived experiences and knowledge to discern reality.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ray Nayler’s “Where the Axe Is Buried”

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in SAN DIEGO at MYSTERIOUS GALAXY next MONDAY (Mar 24), and in CHICAGO with PETER SAGAL on Apr 2. More tour dates here.

Ray Nayler's Where the Axe Is Buried is an intense, claustrophobic novel of a world run by "rational" AIs that purport to solve all of our squishy political problems with empirical, neutral mathematics:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374615369/wheretheaxeisburied/

In Naylor's world, we there are two blocs. "The west," where the heads of state have been replaced with chatbots called "PMs." These PMs propose policy to tame, rubberstamp legislatures, creating jobs programs, setting monetary and environmental policies, and ruling on other tricky areas where it's nearly impossible to make everyone happy. These countries are said to be "rationalized," and they are peaceful and moderately prosperous, and have finally tackled the seemingly intractable problems of decarbonization, extreme poverty, and political instability.

In "the Republic" – a thinly veiled version of Russia – the state is ruled by an immortal tyrant who periodically has his consciousness decanted into a blank body after his own body falls apart. The state maintains the fiction that each president is a new person, manufacturing families, friends, teachers and political comrades who can attest to the new president's long history in the country. People in the Republic pretend to believe this story, but in practice, everyone knows that it's the same mind running the country, albeit sometimes with ill-advised modifications, such as an overclocking module that runs the president's mind at triple human speeds.

The Republic is a totalitarian nightmare of ubiquitous surveillance and social control, in which every movement and word is monitored, and where social credit scores are adjusted continuously to reflect the political compliance of each citizen. Low social credit scores mean fewer rations, a proscribed circle of places you can go, reduced access to medical care, and social exclusion. The Republic has crushed every popular uprising, acting on the key realization that the only way to cling to power is to refuse to yield it, even (especially) if that means murdering every single person who takes part in a street demonstration against the government.

By contrast, the western states with their chatbot PMs are more open – at least superficially. However, the "rationalized" systems use less obvious – but no less inescapable – soft forms of control that limit the social mobility, career chances, and moment-to-moment and day-to-day lives of the people who live there. As one character who ventures from the Republic to London notes, it is a strange relief to be continuously monitored by cameras there to keep you safe and figure out how to manipulate you into buying things, rather than being continuously monitored by cameras seeking a way to punish you.

The tale opens on the eve of the collapse of these two systems, as the current president of the Republic's body starts to reject the neural connectome that was implanted into its vat-grown brain, even as the world's PMs start to sabotage their states, triggering massive civil unrest that brings the west to its knees, one country after another.

This is the backdrop for a birchpunk† tale of AI skulduggery, lethal robot insects, radical literature, swamp-traversing mechas, and political intrigue that flits around a giant cast of characters, creating a dizzying, in-the-round tour of Nayler's paranoid world

† Russian-inflected cyberpunk with Baba Yaga motifs and nihilistic Russian novel vibes

And what a paranoid world it is! Nayler's world shows two different versions of Oracle boss (and would-be Tiktok owner) Larry Ellison, who keeps pumping his vision of an AI-driven surveillance state where everyone is continuously observed, recorded and judged by AIs so we are all on our "best behavior":

https://fortune.com/2024/09/17/oracle-larry-ellison-surveillance-state-police-ai/

This batshit idea from one of tech's worst billionaires is a perfect foil for a work of first-rate science fiction like Where the Axe Is Buried, which provides an emotional flythrough of how such a world would obliterate the authentic self, authentic relationships, and human happiness.

Where the Axe Is Buried conjures up that world beautifully, really capturing the deadly hopelessness of a life where the order is fixed for all eternity, thanks to the flawless execution of perfect, machine-generated power plays. But Axe shows how the embers of hope smolder long after they should have been extinguished, and how they are always ready to be kindled into a roaring, system-consuming wildfire.

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

https://pluralistic.net/2025/03/birchpunk/#cyberspace-is-everting

[astrolook]

#2 The Astrology About Your Difficult Placements & Turning Them Into A Career Opportunity - Rx Edition

Here's Part 1

Note: This post is based on my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. It's important to understand that no single placement in a chart can determine whether someone is “good” or “bad,” a success or a failure, or even something as extreme as a criminal. Astrology is complex, and the entire birth chart must be considered as a whole. What we often label as "difficult" placements can actually become powerful sources of strength if we choose to approach them with awareness, effort, and a growth mindset. These placements aren’t curses, they’re invitations to evolve. This post is based on Vedic/Sidereal Astrology.

Astrology is a lot like Google Maps, it shows you possible routes to your destination, but it’s still up to you which path to take. It can guide, not dictate. That’s why I find it disheartening when some astrologers deliver overly negative interpretations that leave people feeling helpless or afraid and making serious life decisions based on it. Every placement holds multiple possibilities, some more challenging than others. With awareness and the right mindset, even the toughest placements can become powerful tools for growth.

These placements don’t doom you, they challenge you to rise.

Saturn Rx in 10th - Had to work twice as hard as others to get half as far. You'll reach further, just not in a straight line. Unemployed or underpaid, in some cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement to start you own damn business later in life after 27. Any business, policy making, construction, architecture, independent consulting, freelancing, etc.

Mercury Rx in 3rd - You second-guess your thoughts before they even finish forming. Social anxiety in a house that loves communication. Speech delay, in some cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for writing, podcasting, editing, musician, research analysis, journalist, UX design, AI expert, etc.

Saturn Rx in 4th - Not a soft childhood. Emotionally distant parent. Abandoned by their parents or grew up in foster home, in rare cases.

On the bright side, this is good placement and often creates people who build emotional homes for others like therapists, healers, realtor, real estate agent, psychologist, home renovation, child care, trauma coach, homeless shelter, etc.

Venus Rx in 2nd - Self-worth isn’t something you inherited. You had to earn it dollar by dollar, compliment by compliment.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for luxury branding business, voice acting, model scout, jewelry design, financial consultant, insurance agent, dealerships, hairstylist, dermatologist, etc.

Mars Rx in 6th - Invented burnout. Obsess about work but doesn't know how to properly channel the pace. All or nothing. OCD, in some cases. Accidental death in workplace, in very rare cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for crisis management, IT consultant, fitness coach, nutritionist, ENT specialist, neurologist, etc.

Mercury Rx in 8th - You read between the lines before the lines are even written. You’re suspicious of surface-level anything. Says something and does the opposite. Hides real opinions to avoid judgement or criticism and keep to self.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for filmmaking, pianist, guitarist or any musical instrument careers, jailer, UFO researcher, criminal lawyer, occultist, financial advisor, sex therapist, etc.

Saturn Rx in 7th - Dating or relationship is minimal or non-existent. Unconventional partner - smart worker, older or wiser but young at heart. Career/partnerships picks up in late-20's.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for own business, CEO/Chairman, managerial positions, divorce lawyer, govt jobs in a far away place, contractor, industrialist, brand consultant, bio-tech researcher, etc.

Jupiter Rx in 11th - Outsider among outsiders. Tough to find your "people". Changes lives behind-the-scenes. Lonely at times.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for tech startups, humanitarian work, social reform, activism, game development, digital media, advertising, astrology, etc.

Jupiter Rx in 5th - Joy is earned not given. Has to fight for personal freedom, in some cases. Luck comes later in life after 27.

On the bright side, educator, creative writer, freelancer, web or app developer, speculative writing, children's media, performance arts, YouTuber, comic artist, etc.

Wanna go deeper into the layers of your placements? DM me for a complete astrology reading or a 5 year/8 year marriage report or synastry reading🌙💬 and check out my pinned post for pricing + details 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐

[dearlenore]

チョコミント　よりも　あ･な･た♡ / S.REID / SUMMARY - Spencer attends an idol convention

PAIRING: idol!reader x spencer reid / w/c: 3.0k / fluff

a/n: sorry I’m obsessed w AI-SCREAM atm & I needed this for my own peace of mind

SPENCER REID WAS well acquainted with the art of feeling out of place. He had navigated gruesome crime scenes, endured deafening parties, and even found himself in underground gambling rings—where, ironically, he blended in slightly better. But none of those experiences had prepared him for this.

The convention hall was an assault on his senses. A sea of pink, flashing lights, and shrill excitement filled the air. The smell was particularly difficult to ignore—a strange cocktail of sweat, perfume, and artificial sweetness that made his stomach turn. And then there was the sound.

The space vibrated with energy, a constant hum of chattering fans, blaring music, and the rhythmic clatter of merchandise being exchanged. Banners and posters lined every available surface, each one dedicated to a different idol group. But even amid the overwhelming variety, Spencer couldn’t help but notice that one light stick dominated the crowd.

It was striking—a heart-shaped centerpiece, layered in pink hues and encased in a clear sphere. A delicate bow wrapped around its upper base, with the power button nestled in the center, pulsing a soft blush of light. Thankfully, it wasn’t brighter, or Spencer might’ve succumbed to sensory overload right then and there.

Adjusting the strap of his messenger bag, he sighed as Penelope Garcia all but dragged him through the throng of fans. His nerves were already frayed, and the relentless pop music blasting from every direction was only exacerbating the situation.

“Remind me why I’m here again?” he asked, raising his voice over the noise.

Penelope gasped dramatically, her expression one of exaggerated betrayal. “Spencer! We went over this! You’re here because I love you very much, and you need to experience joy, glitter, and the finer things in life!” She huffed. “And because I need someone to stop me from spending my entire paycheck on La-Vie merch.”

Spencer blinked. “Right. Let’s, uh… not do that.”

“Don’t shame me!” she declared, before tightening her grip on his wrist and pulling him forward. “Come on, my reluctant little genius, you’re gonna have an awesome time with me today!”

Spencer highly doubted that. But he complied anyway.

It wasn’t that he had anything against pop music. He simply preferred Beethoven over bubblegum beats, quiet libraries over concerts, and coffee over whatever unnaturally colored drinks were being sold at the concession stands. He could appreciate the cultural impact of the industry, the intricate choreography, and the psychological phenomenon behind mass fandom behavior. But he had never seen the appeal firsthand.

Until now.

Because then, amidst the chaos, he saw you.

You stood on a small stage, effortlessly poised as you signed autographs, your smile radiant under the harsh convention lights. And in that moment, Spencer understood something he hadn’t before.

You weren’t just any idol.

You were the idol.

Even someone as uninformed as he was recognized you. You were part of one of the biggest groups in the world, a phenomenon that had reshaped the industry. He had seen your face on billboards, heard your name in casual conversations, and had even witnessed Penelope crying over your performances more times than he could count.

But none of that prepared him for seeing you in person.

Because you weren’t just beautiful—you were otherworldly. Even in a convention teeming with celebrities, screaming fans, and flashing lights, the entire place seemed to revolve around you.

“Ho-ly mother of sparkles,” Penelope breathed beside him, clutching his arm in a vice grip. “It’s her. I need to sit down. Spencer, help. I’m fainting.”

“You seem fine to me,” he observed, tilting his head slightly as he examined the angle of her posture.

“Barely,” she hissed. Her eyes darted between you and her own reflection in her phone screen. “Oh my God, do you think she can sense my presence? Do I look okay? No, don’t answer that—I know I look fabulous, but like, do I look approachable? Do you think she knows I’m her biggest fan? Should I scream? No, too much. I should be cool. Should I—”

Spencer sighed, already bracing himself for whatever came next.

“I can’t believe this,” Penelope whispered for the third time in the last five minutes, fanning herself dramatically. “Spencer. Spencer. We are about to meet Y/N. This is history. Do you understand? History.”

Spencer adjusted his bag strap and nodded absentmindedly. He did, in fact, not understand. But he did understand that Penelope was on the verge of combusting, and any attempt to dissuade her would be futile.

“Realisticslly speaking, you have a limited window of time before you’re asked to move along,” he reminded her, glancing at the setup ahead. Fans were stepping up, getting their autographs or pictures, exchanging a few words, and then moving on. It was efficient, structured—probably designed to maximize the number of people you could meet without exhausting yourself.

Penelope waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, yes, I know, but maybe if I exude enough love, she’ll feel it and grant us an extra moment of her divine presence.”

Spencer sighed. “That’s not how it works.”

But Penelope wasn’t listening anymore. The line moved forward, and suddenly, you were in front of them.

Up close, you were even more dazzling than Spencer had anticipated. Your presence was warm, magnetic in a way that made even a man as analytical as he was struggle to find the right words.

And then, you smiled.

“Hi!” you chirped, your voice bright and full of genuine excitement, as if you weren’t hours into meeting an endless stream of fans. “What’s your name?”

Penelope made a strangled noise. “I—me? Oh my gosh, um—Penelope. My name is Penelope.”

“Penelope,” you repeated, as if testing it out. Then you grinned. “That’s such a pretty name! I love it.”

Penelope squeaked.

Spencer, for his part, merely observed, fascinated by the effect you had on people. It wasn’t just surface-level charm—it was something sincere, something that made people feel seen.

“And you?” you asked, turning to him.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” he said automatically.

Your eyebrows lifted slightly. “Doctor?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, uh—I have PhDs in Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering, along with several additional degrees in—”

“Oh my gosh.” You gasped, leaning forward slightly. “You’re, like, an actual genius.” You turned to your members who were looking at him as well.

Spencer blinked. “Well, technically, a genius is classified by an IQ above 140, though intelligence is difficult to quantify completely—”

“I think it’s pretty quantifiable in your case,” you teased, eyes twinkling. “So, what brings you here, Doctor Genius? Are you a fan?”

He opened his mouth, then hesitated. He wasn’t a fan, per se. He wasn’t opposed to your music, but the world of idols was something he had only ever observed from the outside. He wasn’t sure what the right response was.

Luckily, Penelope was quick to intervene. “I dragged him here,” she confessed, clasping her hands together. “He doesn’t knowww he’s a fan yet, but don’t worry, I’m working on it.”

You laughed—a sound that, Spencer noted, was genuinely joyful, not the rehearsed kind of politeness he assumed someone in your position had to perfect.

“Well, I think you should give us a chance,” you said, tilting your head at Spencer. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll like me more than you expect.”

Something about the way you said it, with an easy confidence that wasn’t cocky but inviting, made Spencer consider it more seriously than he normally would have.

“You?” One of your members whose name tag in front read ‘Sienna’ gasped. “Yeah! What if he likes me more?” Lina teased, placing her chin on your shoulder. “As if! Don’t listen to them, I’m your favorite.”

You reached out for his hand and held it defensively, sticking out your tongue to your members. He knew the playful banter was probably something done often. Yet his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

He was about to respond when another one of your members—he recognized her from the posters but couldn’t recall her name nor read her name tag—leaned over, eyes flicking between the two of you.

“Are we going over time?” she asked, amused.

You turned to her with a playful pout. “Are you keeping track?”

The girl smirked. “No, but the managers are.”

Spencer noticed then that, unlike the fans before and after them, you weren’t rushing the conversation. There was no subtle body language urging them to move along, no polite closing remarks signaling the end of their time.

Instead, you turned back to them, eyes warm. “Well, I’m not in a hurry. Are you?”

Penelope made another strangled noise, and Spencer wondered if he should check her pulse.

“Not at all,” he said, surprising himself.

Your smile widened. “Good.”

One of your other members, Daniella, a taller girl with sharp eyes and a mischievous smile, leaned forward. “Wait, Doctor Genius—do you really have that many degrees?”

Spencer nodded. “Yes, I started college when I was young, so I had time to accumulate a few.”

Your group collectively let out a sound of amazement, and another member gasped. “Twelve? What was I doing at twelve? Oh, right—getting scolded for sneaking snacks into dance practice.”

Spencer, despite himself, felt his lips twitch. “That does sound significantly more age-appropriate.”

You giggled, nudging your teammate. “See? We should have been studying instead of getting in trouble.”

Lina groaned. “Please don’t bring up the snack scandal again.”

Spencer tilted his head. “Snack scandal?”

Your group immediately erupted into overlapping stories, each member chiming in to tell their version of what was, apparently, a rather dramatic incident involving a forbidden stash of sweets and a very angry dance instructor.

Spencer listened intently, intrigued by the way you and your group interacted. There was an ease between you, a clear bond that went beyond just being coworkers.

Penelope, meanwhile, looked like she had ascended to another plane of existence.

“This is the best day of my life,” she whispered.

You beamed at her. “I’m so glad you guys stopped by. I feel like I’ve been talking at people all day, but you two are actually talking to me.”

Spencer frowned slightly at that. “Isn’t that… common?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I love my fans, but a lot of interactions are quick, or they’re too nervous to say much. It’s nice to have an actual conversation.”

Your members nodded in agreement, one of them sighing. “Yeah, it’s refreshing when someone actually treats us like people and not—”

“Like idols?” Spencer supplied.

Your eyes flicked to him, something unspoken passing behind them. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Like that.”

Penelope, who had been too starstruck to pick up on the subtle shift in mood, gasped. “Oh, oh! Do you guys want to take a picture? I mean, you don’t have to—I know there’s a line, but if you want—”

Your face brightened. “I’d love to!”

Penelope let out a noise that Spencer could only classify as pure joy, quickly fumbling for her phone.

You leaned in close, and Spencer suddenly found himself surrounded by all of you as your members enthusiastically joined in. He barely had time to process before Penelope snapped the picture.

You looked at it and giggled. “This is such a good one! You should send it to us—we’ll repost it.”

Penelope made another strangled sound, and Spencer prepared himself to perform CPR if necessary.

One of your managers cleared their throat, signaling that they really had gone over time.

You sighed. “I guess we should wrap up, huh?”

Spencer nodded, and for a reason he couldn’t quite name, he felt… reluctant.

Penelope, still clutching her phone like it held the meaning of life, took a deep breath. “This was amazing. Thank you for talking to us. You’re even more incredible in person.”

You smiled. “So are you. Both of you.”

Spencer didn’t have time to process the warmth in his chest before you turned to him.

“And Doctor Genius?” you teased, tilting your head. “I expect you to check out at least one of our songs. Just one. Think of it as a challenge.”

Spencer hesitated, then—perhaps influenced by the sincerity in your gaze—nodded. “I… suppose I can do that.”

Your grin was triumphant. “Good.”

As they finally moved away from the table, Penelope clutched Spencer’s arm.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “Did that just happen?”

Spencer exhaled, rubbing his temple.

“Yes, Penelope. It did.”

The convention had been overwhelming, but you’d kept your perfect smile in place the entire time. You had spent years perfecting the art of being sweet, accommodating, and always giving people the benefit of the doubt. But right now, your skin felt too tight, your head too full, and you needed air.

Slipping outside, you took a deep breath, letting the cool night air calm your racing thoughts. The alley behind the convention center was quiet, save for the distant hum of cars on the main street. You exhaled slowly, placing a hand over your chest to steady yourself.

But just as you began to collect yourself, footsteps sounded behind you.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” A sharp voice cut through the night.

You turned, immediately putting on a polite, practiced smile, even as unease crawled up your spine. The man standing there was someone you recognized—a fan you had interacted with before. You had seen him at other events, always hanging back, watching more than engaging. Something about his presence had always put you slightly on edge, but you had pushed those feelings aside.

Now, standing alone in the dimly lit alley, you regretted that.

“I—I’m sorry?” you said quickly, tilting your head in a way you hoped would diffuse the tension. “Did I do something to upset you?”

His jaw clenched. “You were flirting with other guys.”

Your stomach dropped.

“I—I wasn’t flirting,” you said, holding up your hands slightly, your tone as gentle as possible. “I was just being friendly. I appreciate all my fans. I promise, it wasn’t anything like that.”

“Liar.” His voice turned sharp, his eyes narrowing. “I see the way you look at them. The way you smiled at them. You don’t smile at me like that.”

Your pulse skyrocketed.

You had handled obsessive fans before, had dealt with overenthusiastic admirers, but this—this was different. His anger was palpable, his body language rigid with frustration.

“Please,” you said quickly, keeping your voice soft, trying to de-escalate. “I didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. I appreciate you, really. Let’s just talk about this, okay?”

He took a step closer.

Your breath hitched.

“Stop lying to me,” he hissed. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else? I’ve been supporting you since the beginning. I know you better than they do. I love you. But you just throw yourself at other guys like a—”

The door to the convention center creaked open behind you, and for the first time in your life, you were grateful for the sound of someone else’s footsteps.

You turned your head, eyes landing on Spencer as he stepped outside. He had clearly been looking for you.

Your stomach twisted, panic taking over.

You had to do something.

Before you could think it through, you moved. You stepped toward Spencer, grabbing his arm and pressing yourself close to him like it was second nature.

“Hey, babe,” you said, your voice strained but carrying just enough affection to sound convincing. You could feel Spencer’s body tense in confusion for a split second before he caught on.

He shifted immediately, angling himself between you and the fan without hesitation. His hand slid protectively over yours where it clung to his sleeve.

The fan’s expression twisted with fury. “Who the hell is this?”

Spencer’s free hand moved smoothly to his pocket, retrieving his FBI badge in one swift motion. He flipped it open, holding it up just enough for the man to see.

“FBI,” he said, voice calm but edged with warning. “Just leave her be. She’s not interested.”

The man’s entire demeanor changed. His face paled, his shoulders hunching as his eyes darted between you and Spencer.

“You—” The fan clenched his fists, his expression cycling through emotions too fast to read. Then, without another word, he turned sharply on his heel and stormed off down the alley, disappearing into the night.

You felt your knees go weak.

Spencer must have noticed because, without asking, he gently moved his hand to the small of your back, steadying you. His touch was light, reassuring, but present enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to nod even though your hands were still shaking. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I just…” You let out a shaky laugh, running a hand through your hair. “I panicked.”

Spencer studied you, his sharp eyes scanning your face like he was cataloging every detail. “You handled that well,” he said, surprising you. “You stayed calm. You de-escalated. That was smart.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Didn’t feel very smart.”

Spencer’s lips pressed together in a thin line, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders.

You blinked up at him. “Spencer—”

“You’re shaking,” he pointed out simply.

You glanced down, realizing he was right.

You gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling it closer as the residual fear settled into exhaustion. “Thanks,” you murmured.

Spencer nodded, his voice gentle but firm. “Let’s get you out of here.”

[deep-space-lines]

So I've been kinda musing on the idea of a helmetless Gabriel design because. well. idk, I keep seeing them. And while some of them are really cool, I just don't personally vibe with the concept as a whole, I guess? Keep his hat on. That's his face. Either that or it's a featureless ball of light under there or something. you freaks can take off his underwear but do NOT take off the helmet

There's always something a little off about it to me. Like either he's Just A Guy which is technically more biblically accurate but also kinda boring, or he's some kind of cool """biblically accurate angel""" deal that isn't actually biblically accurate even though it looks cooler.

I ended up settling on a concept that's kind of the best of both worlds to me. It makes a sort of sense for Gabe to have a human face under there, since he's meant to be a messenger to humanity, but I'm thinking, rather than having A Face, he kind of just... appears to individuals as their stereotypical idea of an angel, with either a face that the individual would find trustworthy or stern or outright terrifying depending on what message he's trying to send; different for every observer but always beautiful, flawless.

So to humans, he'd generally appear as something resembling common artistic depictions of him. No set features, but with some consistent elements: young, conventionally attractive & 'perfect'; somewhat androgynous; and with glowing eyes.

On the other hand, V1 doesn't really have anything internal to draw on. It doesn't pay attention to faces. It has no beauty standards. It doesn't trust or hate. It has a completely different thought process, brain structure. So instead, it sees something it can't quite comprehend, because it wasn't meant to comprehend it. A shifting form of faces and wings and light superimposed on each other, closer to the truth than any human but unable to make sense of it.

You know how if AI tries to animate something (or really do anything), it can kind of trail off and lose track of what it's doing and get increasingly nonsensical? It's dumb, but the best example I can think of for how I'd imagine V1 would see Gabriel would be AI Minecraft. The way that a white pixel can become a sheep can become snow can become clouds, and looking up at the sky and then back down will completely change the entire landscape. All its processing power going to solidify some kind of humanoid face in what it's seeing, confirmation bias building up a stronger and stronger image, only for it to tilt its head slightly and the entire illusion shatters.

"ok but what would Gabriel see in the mirror?" do u think i know how angels see

...All that being said. The real answer is still "leave his hat on". freaks

[caws5749]

Not Unnoticed Gestures

A/N: call me a motherfucking softie bc HOO BOI

"Yeah, but we need to consider that we aren't the only ones with powers," you added, looking at the large AI whiteboard in front of the group.

"You really think they experimented on them too?" Clint questioned.

Steve answered, giving you a moment to weigh the odds. A flash of something in the corner of your eye had you turning your head a moment later, brows raising at the mug filled with warm, fresh tea that now sat next to your laptop. You looked around and found Natasha taking her seat on the chair near Tony. You met her eyes and she sent a gentle, barely noticeable smile your way.

Your heart fluttered. It was these moments, those small gestures, the almost unnoticeable ones, that proved to you that she cared.

You and Natasha were.... well, you weren't quite sure. You weren't just friends... and you weren't together either. In a time when things were so uncertain, it was difficult to find time or the energy for a relationship. That didn't mean you both weren't aware of the love between the two of you.

It was the same in other ways.

"Is that what you would say, Romanoff?" you laughed, taunting her as you watched the sweat drip down her face, her chest heaving with the labored breaths that came with sparring.

Your head tilted, eyes falling to the blossoming bruise on her shoulder. You had a half second to purse your lips before you were thrown backwards.

"Watch it, Y/L/N," Nat smirked.

After you had showered, you found her in the living room. You gathered a bag of ice, wrapped it in paper towel to help with the cold, and brought it to her. You gently set it on your shoulder before walking away.

Natasha had watched you go, her green eyes nearly filling with tears at your observance and kindness. She'd made a mental note to leave you a small gift later.

When you'd stumbled into your room later that evening, half sore and half tipsy, you froze at the single flower on the nightstand. She hadn't left a note, she didn't need to.

It was as if the two of you knew only how to show love in the small gestures.

Like when late autumn had hit and you just couldn't quite shake the chill in the air. You couldn't stop shivering, sniffling constantly from your running nose. It had been a long day, and you were unwinding in the living room watching whatever show had sounded good to you.

The red-head entered, taking one look at you before pulling a blanket from the basket.

"It's like you can never get warm," she mused, equally amused and concerned as she threw the blanket over your shoulders. You couldn't help but feel that her hands lingered on you.

You shrugged. "It's cold. And I've always been this way."

She hummed, before standing. "Tea." She booped your freezing nose on the way out.

The little gestures were never unnoticed between the two of you. It was what you had and when the world became a little less hectic, when the two of you were ready, those little gestures would turn into much more.

[emceevoices]

Dave's Revenge

A fanfic based on the works of @e-vay.

(This takes place roughly a decade after the events of My Gal.)

---

A large figure stood at a small computer monitor. Flooding the screen was a giant cliffside manor, the residence of the retired mad scientist, Dr Eggman. Once known as his evil lair, the location of his schemes and plans for world domination, the building was now simply the resting place of an aging man. Merely a shell and museum of days long gone by. Of hundreds of plans gone awry.

The figure glared at the screen, eyes piercing from his helmet with malice. “Today,” he growled, “It all happens today!”

—-

It was another beautiful day on Bygone Island. Sonic the Hedgehog was relaxing outside on a lawn chair. His wife, Amy Rose, was inside making lunch, and their six-year-old daughter Aurora was playing nearby with her best friend Sage the AI, and her nanny bots, Orbot and Cubot. Things had gotten quiet in the years since Dr Eggman had retired from villainy, and the village had been incident-free for quite some time.

Sonic enjoyed this quiet life. While he enjoyed kicking Eggman’s butt in his younger years, he now found satisfaction and fulfillment in his new life as a husband and father. Still, he had a sinking feeling something wasn’t right. It was like the calm before the storm.

Suddenly, Sage looked concerned. “Please excuse me, Rory,” she stated, “Father requests my assistance urgently.”

“Okay, bye, Sage!” shouted Aurora as Sage disappeared into thin air.

“What does the boss want so suddenly?” Orbot wondered out loud.

“Probably ran out of prune juice again,” Cubot mused. “But he usually has me be his juicer! Did he replace me?!”

“Given that you served him plum juice last time, more than likely,” Orbot observed.

“But they’re the same thing!” Cubot groaned.

It was at that time that Sonic’s wrist communicator buzzed. It was Sage, who had sent him a message. The message read,

“Father is in peril! Send help STAT!”

Sonic’s eyes narrowed. He called inside the house, “Amy dear? Put lunch on hold! We’ve got a poached egg to deal with!”

—-

Within a few minutes, after entrusting Orbot and Cubot with Aurora, Sonic and Amy arrived at Eggman’s manor, to be met by a swarm of attacking robots!

“Eggman hasn’t had robots protecting his lair in years!” Amy shouted as she slammed her hammer into an attacking badnik.

“Yeah, but something’s off!” Sonic observed, smashing several with his spindash moves. “Egghead’s badniks are normally shaped like crabs, wasps, and other creatures! These look like… pickles and ketchup bottles! Has the doc gotten hungrier as he’s gotten older?”

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” Amy declared, “Now help me get this door down!”

“Gladly!” cried Sonic, as he knocked the door to Eggman’s lair down with a particularly powerful homing attack.

Inside, they found the lair dark and rather sinister. It was another red flag, as the lair was often well-lit and full of mechanical life. And there, tied up in a chair, was Eggman, his gray mustache practically glowing in the spotlight shining down on him.

“About time you got here, you miserable rodent!” Eggman grumbled from the chair.

“Father,” scolded Sage, who appeared close by, “That is hardly the way to speak to my bestie’s father.”

“Eh, sorry,” Eggman sighed.

“So, why are ya tied up like that, Eggman?” Sonic inquired, “Wild party at the old folks home last night?”

“Oh, QUITE the party,” said Eggman, “Woke up with a nasty headache, but that’s not why I’m like this!”

“Then what is?” asked Amy.

“I am.”

The deep voice came from the shadows, right behind Eggman. It was followed by cold, shallow breathing that sent chills down the spines of all in the room. Suddenly a large figure hovered into the light, arms crossed and steely eyed! It was a barrel-chested, teal-colored beaver, wearing a Trojan-like helmet, a leather jacket, and a flowing cape.

Sonic and Amy couldn’t believe their eyes. “DAVE THE INTERN?!?!” they cried in unison.

“I’m an intern no more,” Dave growled between heavy breaths. His voice was deeper and richer than it was during his fast food worker days. “Now, I’m in charge, and I say, break time’s over!!! Ha ha ha ha!! AH HA HA HA - HACK!!! ACK!!! URK!!!”

“Here, hun,” said a young adult female bandicoot, carrying a small object in her hands, which she proceeded to give to Dave. “You forgot your inhaler again.”

“Give me that!” grumbled Dave, as he swiped the inhaler out of the bandicoot’s hands and began breathing with it. He then muttered, “Thank you.”

“Perci?!” Amy gasped at the newcomer, “You’re with him?!”

“What can I say? I like a guy who’s handy,” Perci drawled, stroking Dave’s arm flirtatiously. “And this handsome hunk of a man has proven himself VERY handy indeed!”

“I think I just threw up in my mouth,” Eggman said grimacing.

“Alright Dave, enough small talk,” Sonic demanded, “What’s this all about?”

“What’s it about?!” Dave barked, “Revenge! Ever since Meh Burger was shut down by the health inspector, it has given me nothing but time to focus on finally enacting revenge against you, against the village, against everyone who underestimated and mocked me…” he glared at Amy, “…and against the love of my life, who rejected me for an arrogant blue porcupine!”

“What?!” Amy exclaimed, clearly disgusted, “Dave, you’re a nice guy and all, sort of, but there is no way we could work.”

“I nearly threw out my back moving heavy boxes for you!”

“That doesn’t mean squat! By the way, you dropped the box with my porcelain unicorn. You owe me fifty bucks!”

Dave rolled his eyes and placed a fifty dollar bill in Amy’s hand.

“Thank you. Now, if you’re done with the hemming and hawing, I gotta get back to preparing lunch. Come on, Sonic, we’re leaving!”

“No need to tell me twice!” said Sonic.

“Hey! Don’t leave me here!” Eggman yelled from his bonds.

“Nobody’s going anywhere!” Dave demanded. He fired a laser from his glove, causing rubble to block the entrance!

“Alright, enough is enough!” Sonic shouted, and he launched a homing attack towards Dave. Much to the hedgehog’s surprise, his attack was blocked by a reflector shield, sending him flying back down to the ground!

Landing on his feet, Sonic cried out, “Where the heck did that come from?!”

“I invented it to protect myself from French fry grease,” Dave explained, proudly. “Cool, huh?”

“We’re all set, hun,” said another bandicoot girl who looked almost identical to Perci. “The army’s ready for invasion.”

“Staci, you too?!” Amy cried, flabbergasted. “Both of you are… with him?!”

Sonic looked at Dave with disdain. “Dude, that’s kinda messed up.”

“Your best friend dated a plant!” Dave snapped, “I don’t wanna hear it!” Turning to Staci, he ordered, “Send them in!”

“Sure thing, Mr D,” sighed Staci, pressing a nearby button.

“What did you do?!” Sonic demanded.

Dave just smirked. “You better hurry to the village, heroes!” And with that, he grabbed onto Perci’s and Staci’s wrists, and the three of them floated up through a hatch in the ceiling, disappearing out of view.

Suddenly, the voice of Sonic’s best friend, Tails the Fox, called over Sonic’s wrist communicator. “Sonic! We’ve got trouble! Multiple badniks are invading the village! And they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“Grab Knuckles, Sticks, and Rouge!” Sonic commanded. “Tell everyone to take cover, and hurry! Amy and I will join you shortly!” Turning to Amy, he asked, “You ready?”

Amy grinned while grabbing his hand, “You bet!” And the two hedgehogs boosted out of the lair at full speed.

“Seriously?!” Eggman growled, still tied up, “You’re really going to leave without me?! You can’t leave an old man in this condition! The social workers will certainly hear of this!!! Ugh, of all the times for Stone to be on jury duty!” Then, calming down, he asked, “Er, Sage dearie, would you kindly untie your father from these ropes?”

“In a minute, Father,” Sage replied. “First, I must take advantage of the opportunity.”

“Opportunity? For what?!”

“While you are currently immobilized, this is a prime opportunity to enact what Rory calls a ‘makeover’.” Then pulling out a makeup kit, she instructed, “Now please hold still. I do not wish for the mascara to ruin your spectacles.”

Eggman gulped.

—-

Sonic and Amy arrived at the village, where a fierce battle was raging! Tails, Knuckles, Sticks, and Rouge were in the middle of it all, making scrap metal out of the attacking robots.

“Sonic! It’s about time you showed up!” Tails shouted, ramming his wrench into a pickle bot, “These machines are unlike anything I’ve ever seen! It’s like the technology of Eggman mixed with the minimum wage labor of a fast food worker!”

“Yeah, and they look delicious!” shouted Knuckles, who eagerly took a huge bite out of a hamburger-shaped bot… then promptly spit it out. “Blech! But they don’t taste delicious.”

“Careful, Knuckie!” Rouge called, semi-flirtatiously, “You need to watch your cholesterol!”

“I knew it!” Sticks screamed, “The FDA has gone too far! I always knew they would use our food to kill us! It’s every man for himself!!!”

“Either I forgot to pay my restaurant bill again,” Tails observed, “Or this could be the work of-“

“It’s Dave the Intern,” Sonic explained quickly.

“Okay that makes all the sense in the world and simultaneously makes no sense at all,” Tails said.

“Don’t worry, buddy!” Sonic said, “Let’s trash these bots like it’s finally Season 3!”

And so, after a fierce, glorious battle that I SO wish you could’ve seen, our heroes stood in the midst of a pile of busted robot parts.

“Nowhere near as difficult as one of Egghead’s attacks,” Amy observed, “but nothing to sneeze at, either. I’ll give Dave props for that.”

“Phew! I needed the workout!” Sonic said while stretching and punching the air. “Is that the best that fry cook can serve?!”

Suddenly, Sonic’s wrist communicator sounded again, and Orbot’s panicked voice came blaring from it! “New boss? There’s been a situation!”

“Yeah!” cried Cubot from the communicator, “The season finale to ‘La Ultima Pasion’ has been postponed for two whole weeks!”

“But not just that!” cried Orbot, “Miss Rory! Something happened and she—“ But before he could finish, he was cut off by sharp static!

“She what?!” Sonic shouted into the communicator, “What happened to my daughter? Orbot? Orbot?!”

“MAMA! PAPA! HELP!!!!” Aurora’s voice came tearing through the atmosphere, and Team Sonic looked up in horror to see the young girl trapped in the strong arms of a levitating Dave!

“MY BABY!!!!!” Amy screamed in a way only a distraught mother can.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” a grade-school aged Chumley Walrus yelled from far off.

“Everything I ever loved was taken from me,” Dave said coldly as Aurora wriggled desperately, “Now, I’ll take what you love.”

“When I get my hands on you—-!!!” Sonic roared, enraged.

“Hon, forget the child!” Perci called from Dave’s communicator, “We’ve got what we need.”

“No! They need a statement!” Dave said. Then to the heroes, he hissed, “Here’s your one-star review!” And then he took off to the heavens, carrying Sonic and Amy’s terrified daughter in tow!

“Sonic!” Amy cried, “We need to do the croquet maneuver!”

“No we can’t!” Sonic shouted, “I’ll hit Aurora!”

“But we’ve got to do something!”

Meanwhile, up in the sky, Aurora wriggled with all her might to try to free herself.

“Struggle all you want!” Dave grinned maliciously, “I hope you enjoy the title of Unpaid Intern!”

Suddenly, Aurora’s small body began to glow, faintly at first, but quickly growing brighter, and with a sharp cry of “Let! Me! GO!!!!!” She glowed as bright as a lighthouse!

Not anticipating the sudden brightness, Dave let out a shrill cry and loosened his grip on the girl, sending her plummeting down towards earth!

“AAAAAAAAAHH!!!!” Aurora screamed.

Watching the events unfold from below, the villagers gasped in horror!

“Now?!” Amy cried.

“NOW!!!” Sonic yelled, throwing himself into a spin ball!

Amy swung her hammer as hard as she could, sending her husband rocketing towards their daughter! Sonic uncurled just in time to catch Aurora, and the two landed roughly, yet safely into the ground!

“Are you alright, Tiny?” Sonic groaned in pain.

“Mm-hmm,” Aurora whimpered, shaken. “I’m sorry, Papa! That bad man was typin’ on Uncle Tails’ ‘pooter! I tried to stop him, but…” she then started to cry.

Sonic held Aurora close to him. “Shhh, it’s okay, Tiny,” he said softly, “You’re okay. That was not right to try to take that bad man on yourself, but you were very brave. I’m proud of you. Just next time, let the adults, or your nanny-bots, take care of it. Okay.”

Aurora looked up and nodded, “‘Kay.” Holding on tighter, she said, “Love you, Papa.”

“I love you too, Tiny.”

—-

Later, the group of heroes stood around Tails’ computer as he examined it.

“Well, someone has definitely been snooping around,” Tails observed, “But everything seems to be intact. I wonder what Dave wanted?”

“Who knows?” Sticks guessed, “Maybe he wanted embarrassing vacation photos? Maybe he wanted your music files? Maybe he was looking for important information regarding all of us, showing all of our strengths and weaknesses, THE LIKES OF WHICH WOULD CERTAINLY LEAD TO OUR DOOM IN THE WRONG HANDS!!!!”

Silence engulfed the room, followed by a collective, “Naaaah!”

“Well, whatever he was looking for,” Sonic declared, “If he should ever show his face again, we’ll be waiting for him!”

“At least little Rory was able to scare him off!” Knuckles stated.

“Indeed!” Rouge agreed, booping Aurora on the nose, “She’s going to be quite the charming little hero! She’ll be kicking butt in no time—!”

“When she’s an adult!” Sonic and Amy interrupted in unison.

“—when she’s an adult,” Rouge finished, corrected.

“When I’m an adult!” Aurora cried triumphantly, prompting everyone in the room to laugh in awe.

“Heheh, we still have plenty of time before that happens!” Sonic said. “In the meantime… I’m getting kinda hungry. Who wants a burger?” Prompting everyone to laugh harder in agreement.

—-

Alone in his room, Dave stared wearily at a picture frame. The picture was of himself, back in his teenage intern days. Standing next to him was a middle-aged female figure, her head torn out of the picture. Dave sighed. He remembered the day his mother tore her own face out of the picture, being embarrassed to be seen with such an embarrassing excuse of a villain.

He then remembered another awful day. The day when Meh Burger was shut down. He had decided to take matters into his own hands by hacking into the health inspector’s bank account and ruining his credit rating. But as that proved too difficult to do, he did the next best thing and burned the inspector’s house to the ground.

He didn’t expect that the fire would get out of control. Nor that his mother happened to be in the health inspector’s house for tea.

She didn’t make it out.

Dave had fled the scene of the crime, so the blame was pinned on faulty wiring while he got out scot-free, but the consequences of his actions sunk deeper than any jail sentence ever could.

After the fire was put out by Sonic and his friends, nobody cared that the only person Dave ever cared about and desperately tried to please was gone forever. Nobody came to console and check in on him. Hardly anyone even attended the funeral. The only thing that mattered was that those do-gooders had saved the day once again.

It wasn’t fair! Why should the heroes get all the attention? Just because they can spin around and punch their way to glory, does that mean they’re providence’s gift to the world? Of course, why would anyone care about a puny, insignificant fry cook? Does it really matter that he never got to prove himself a worthy super villain to the one person who was his entire world?!

No, of course not.

Nobody cares.

Dave seethed as the memories went roaring through his head. It has taken years to come to this moment, but they would care. They all would. He would make them all care! Soon all eyes would be on him, and those goody-goody attention seekers would be cast to the wayside!

“Here’s the data you requested,” said Perci, holding a flash drive in her hand. “You’re welcome, by the way. Those geniuses made hacking quite the hassle.”

Dave inhaled sharply, then, swiping the flash drive from her hand, he murmured, “Fine, thanks.”

He then inserted the drive into a nearby computer, and before long, files began filling the screen. Files containing important information regarding both Eggman and the heroes, showing all of their strengths and weaknesses, the likes of which would certainly lead to their doom in the wrong hands!

“Vengeance is mine, Sonic the Hedgehog!” Dave declared, “And no one, not you, not your friends, nor even your glowstick of a daughter, will be able to stop me! Soon all the world will know the name of… CHEZ DAVID!!!! GAHAHAHAHA - Hack! Cough! Ugh! (Inhale) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!!!”

THE END...?