#Database Security Best Practices

[thedbahub]

Enhancing Security with Application Roles in SQL Server 2022

Creating and managing application roles in SQL Server is a powerful way to enhance security and manage access at the application level. Application roles allow you to define roles that have access to specific data and permissions in your database, separate from user-level security. This means that you can control what data and database objects an application can access, without having to manage…

[techcofinds]

[saywhat-politics]

WASHINGTON — Today, GIFFORDS, the national gun violence prevention organization founded by former Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, condemned the Trump administration’s decision to shut down the Federal School Safety Clearinghouse External Advisory Board.

As Education Week reported, “The Federal School Safety Clearinghouse, an interagency effort housed in the U.S. Department of Homeland Security, was created by President Donald Trump’s first administration after the Parkland shooting to share resources and best practices related to school safety. Parkland victims’ families, who rushed to advocacy work after the tragedy, pushed for its creation after they grew concerned that research on school safety was confusing for educators and the public to navigate. The clearinghouse was codified into law as part of the 2022 Bipartisan Safer Communities Act, which also mandated the creation of the external advisory board.”

“Dismantling the Federal School Safety Clearinghouse’s advisory board is a betrayal of Parkland victims’ families and their tireless advocacy. This board was created during Trump’s first administration after 17 students and staff died, and it represented a moment of bipartisan cooperation to address school violence, providing critical research and guidance to protect American children. By disbanding this crucial resource, the new Trump administration is choosing the gun lobby’s will over student safety. It is shameful,” said GIFFORDS Executive Director Emma Brown.

According to the K–12 School Shooting Database there were 330 shootings at schools in 2024.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 93 (Finally Coming Clean)

When Conrad arrived home on Friday night, Ash was in the city. He took a shower, joining Heather in the kitchen while she cooked dinner and talked about Ray Pierce, the Landgraabs' driver who she'd met that afternoon. "He seems as nice as Ash says. It's just annoying I had to find out about him from my son and not his father."

Conrad didn't say much; he couldn't exactly chastise Malcolm for keeping secrets from her. Lavender was awake and Conrad practiced sitting with her for a while, putting her to bed as the scent of chicken stir-fry wafted up the stairs.

He went to the kitchen, smiling at the setup of food and candles at their dining table. "You didn't have to do all this." He kissed her cheek. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion is, I love you. I just wanted to take away a little stress from your day."

He frowned, and his hands went limp around her waist. "Heather, I need to tell you something. The case I told you about that's been driving me crazy...I backed out of it yesterday morning."

She looked at him, confused. "Maybe that's for the best. But it's not like you to give up on a case."

"I had to let this one go. It was kind of...it wasn't an official case. I've been looking for someone off the books for close to six months."

"Why? Is it someone you know?"

He nodded, and she followed him to sit across from him at the kitchen table. "There's so much about my past I haven't been able to tell you. I should have said something long before I moved in, but I'd convinced myself it was totally in my past and would never be an issue."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember that woman who was looking in our windows when you were pregnant? I wasn't sure at the time, but I got the cameras as a precaution, regardless. She started texting me after Lavender was born."

"Who is she?"

He took a deep breath. "She's my ex."

"Conrad, what does she want?"

"Me. She only wants me. But she can't have me so she's..."

"Is she dangerous? Is this the college girlfriend who cheated on you and broke your heart?"

"Same one. Her name's Ximena Bonilla and she's a little...erratic. But she might not be as dangerous as the people she associates with."

"Who does she associate with?"

"Selvadoradian cartels. She's a drug dealer."

The shock and confusion on Heather's face turned to anger. "How do you know her?"

"I met her when I was in college. She said she was a student and convinced me for almost a year. She was raising her kid brother, Rafa, by herself and escaped being trafficked by the cartel by running drugs for them instead. When I found out the students were her customers, I should have broken up with her. But I was in love and I wanted to keep her safe. I didn't leave. I got deep enough that I met some of her bosses and knew about some of their operations, but she cheated on me and it broke the spell. I finally left her, but one of their ops went bad and one of the guys they picked up gave my name to San Myshuno PD."

"Conrad, you don't have a criminal record. I looked you up after we started dating."

"You hacked the police database, too?"

"No...I did a public records search after River made a joke about a hacker and a criminal."

"To this day, I don't know how my father did it. My file's locked under clearance even I don't have, same as anyone else on the force with a past, but Landgraab Security's always had contacts at San Myshuno PD. He pulled enough strings to wipe my record clean and transfer me into the academy. I had to give them a couple names in exchange - street dealers, local guys. No one that would really upset the cartel. But the force had to look like they were managing crime in their city, and that's the only reason I became a cop and not a complete screw up."

"Is the cartel after you? Or just your ex? Did you give them her name?"

"I never gave them her name. I couldn't, because I didn't know what would happen to her little brother if I did. She tried to get me back after I left, but I knew it could never work out. When Gord was still a puppy, she cornered us outside my apartment to get my attention when I brought home another girl. I got a restraining order, but when it expired and she stayed away, I thought she was finally gone for good."

"So why is she back?"

"She asked for my help to find her brother."

"Is her brother even missing?"

"He is missing. He's wanted by San Myshuno PD. I wanted to help him before he was arrested and sent to prison."

"But you were looking for him under the table, as a favour to your ex who sounds obsessed with you? No wonder Gord hasn't left us alone since Lavender was born. He always knew what was going on with you, didn't he? And you never thought to mention any of this to me?"

"Heather, I wanted to, I-"

"Were you going to help this guy avoid prison? How? Criminal connections?"

"Nothing like that. I was hoping to be able to talk to him, encourage him to go back to finish high school, find a solid job, and maybe convince a judge to go easier on him. I really thought I'd be able to find him in a few weeks, maybe a couple months, and we could all move on again. But uncovering leads has been impossible, and his sister's not a reliable source. I'd even started a file on Ximena because I thought once I found her brother I could finally get around to what I should have done more than once and turned her in. But I could see what searching for Rafa and keeping it from everyone was doing to me, so I finally told her yesterday I was done."

"You've been in regular contact with your ex and didn't tell me? And not because there's something between you but because she's dangerous? Conrad, that's worse."

He nodded. "I know it is. I know how not saying anything makes it look, but I'm so ashamed of that chapter of my life. My bad decisions killed my father. After he got me into the academy, his heart got weak. Two heart attacks, and he died within months. As long as I live, I'll know the stress I put him under was the cause."

She was quiet, nervously playing with her food. Neither was hungry anymore. "You should have told me this."

"I'm so sorry. The longer I kept it from you, the more I feared telling you too late to deserve understanding. I love you so much, and I never wanted to do anything to lose you."

They were interrupted when Conrad's phone started beeping. This time, it was work, but he read the dispatch and his stomach dropped.

The phone shook in his trembling hand and Heather stood. "Conrad, what is it?"

"There's a dead body at the pier. I've got to go back to work." A bone-chilling shiver ran down his spine. His heartbeat quickened, as though he knew what he'd find when he reached Fisherman's Wharf. "I'm so sorry, Heather. I want to keep talking about this, but I can't."

She nodded. "I understand."

A pit formed in his stomach. "Will you do me a favour? I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but will you leave for your parents' place in Henford tonight? Don't wait until morning. I'll probably be working all night and I'd rather know you're safe outside of town."

She uncrossed her arms in shock. "Do you think your ex is involved with the body at the pier? Is that why you want us to leave? Lavender's sound asleep already, but you want me to wake her and take her an hour on the Simmerloop when you invested in those security cameras?"

"Heather, please," he begged, reaching for her hand across the table. "If she's anywhere near Brindleton Bay right now, I can't focus on work if I'm worried about the two of you."

Heather looked at him with sad eyes as their fingers brushed against the wood-top table. Betrayal was written all over her face, but she nodded toward the uneaten food and pulled her hand away. "I'll pack this up in the fridge and then I'll take her. Do you think you'll make it to Henford at all this weekend?"

"Heather, I don't know. I hope so. But I can pack this up before I go. Thank you for cooking. I'm sorry we couldn't enjoy it."

"Me too," she snipped. "Good luck. Be careful."

Heather couldn't look at him and Conrad wouldn't press her. As much as he wanted to run after her and beg forgiveness, a deadly crime scene called him to the pier. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Heather doing a semi-romantic dinner setup wasn't a flirty gesture, but she has the caregiver personality type. I can't remember if this is from a mod or an EA feature, to tell you the truth. I think it's a mod. Conrad has the jester personality type, which I think suits him, too. Conrad is really responsible and respectful which suit his proper trait (which was learned after younger mistakes), but jesters trend toward mischief/"foolish games" in addition to being jokesters. EDIT: It's WonderfulWhims/WickedWhims that adds this!!

WCIF Poses Used? Dinner Table Talks by @herecirmsims. I don't even mind the clipping because their kitchen table and chairs didn't quite fit the dimensions, because the poses gave me the expressions I wanted. I tried way too long to try to get the teleporters in the middle of the chairs, but I got close enough for me. Just ignore the fact that their chests were in their stir-fry for 90 per cent of that convo! Thank you so much for creating and sharing! 🙏

[reading-writing-revolution]

We Will Not Stop

Heather Cox Richardson observes that with the fast-moving autocracy being imposed on the nation by the Trump-Musk regime, she may be increasingly vulnerable to intimidation, even arrest for exercising her first amendment right of free expression. Nonetheless, undeterred, she intends to continue to express herself freely in criticizing the very disturbing actions of this corrupt administration.

I am no Helen Cox Richardson, but my reading audience has been growing rather rapidly. I, too, remain undeterred.

Heather Cox Richardson, April 7, 2025:

“In a strange twist, I was actually researching the extraordinary powers of the Department of Homeland Security today for a radio show when Forbes broke the news that the DHS was looking for help compiling a database of "media influencers." DHS leaders want the database to include journalists, editors, correspondents, social media influencers, bloggers, and so on, and to include the "sentiments" of the people in it. While DHS spokesperson Tyler Q. Houlton tweeted that monitoring media is normal practice, and that "any suggestion otherwise is fit for tin foil hat wearing, black helicopter conspiracy theorists," many people have helpfully pointed out that, in fact, this is a move straight out of Putin's playbook, and that media influencers with the wrong "sentiments" get arrested or attacked, or they disappear.

“There is no way now to know which interpretation is the right one.

But I do know that it's a funny thing as an American to realize that saying or writing something could lead to imprisonment, torture, or death. It happens in other countries, of course, and it has certainly happened here at times, but it has never been part of our lives that we had to worry that our own government would, in a systematic way, silence dissenters.

The first reaction to this realization is denial: there is no way this could happen. And then it gets personal: there is no way this could happen to me. And finally, the personal turns the idea into a bit of a joke: the concept that I would be important enough to silence just proves that the idea is ridiculous.

 “But then you wonder. Perhaps every person thinks they're safe right up until they hear the door slam against the wall.

 “It didn't bother me when I got put on the Professor Watchlist right after Trump took office. I have attracted troubling attention before, and have come to accept it as part of the cost of doing business. There are precautions you take, and then you get on with your life. So the Professor Watchlist didn't bother me... until I understood how frightened other people were about my inclusion on it, and I suddenly saw that maybe the fact that our government supported the sort of folks who were policing universities meant that the watchlist was a very different thing than I had become accustomed to.

 “I could not bear the idea that my writing and speaking might endanger my children or my partner, and I considered shutting up. But my very practical kids-- who are all adults-- pointed out that there are so many records connecting them to me that any potential damage was already done, and they told me they were proud of me. My partner asked me if I was willing to live in an America where a person couldn't say what she thought. He said he didn't want to.”

“I thought about it, and realized that I am exactly the sort of person who must never cede ground to this sort of terrorism (for that's fundamentally what it is: threatening people's safety in order to influence their behavior). If I have a faith, it is in the principle of human self-determination, and that faith makes me a staunch defender of American democracy, the system of government that has the best chance, I think, of fostering a society in which everyone can reach their highest potential.

“So I set my affairs in order, and went back to my normal life, while continuing to try to call attention to the illegalities and extremes of the Trump administration, and at the same time to illuminate the principles that truly make America great. I harp on our history because it tells us about our past triumphs and, crucially, our failures. We can-- must-- learn from both.

“But it is now being suggested that I might be writing my own death warrant. This is a very odd thing to try to wrap your head around. My colleagues occasionally talk about how the first ones to be ‘disappeared’ in a political coup are the professors who speak out. That is true, historically. And while it used to be an academic observation for me, it has quite suddenly grown teeth.

“And so I write this tonight, thinking how terribly silly it is to imagine that the American government might purge opponents, and how ridiculous it is to think that anyone could perceive someone like me as a threat, and yet also thinking that maybe I'm wrong, and this horror is really coming, and that someday, some historian will see this post and think sadly: "When she wrote this there was still time. But they didn't stop it... because they truly didn't think it could happen to them."

If you don’t follow Prof Richardson, here Substack is here. I discovered here maybe three years ago, maybe four. I’ve read her book, watched her on YouTube, and I recommend her to everyone, even my nervous MIL. I’ve always seen history as interesting, but I’ve never been interested. HCR changed that latter bit for me, and she will for you, too.

Read, share, comment, appreciate, support, defend. We will not go quietly. We will no comply.

[mariacallous]

Tulsi Gabbard, the director of national intelligence, used the same easily cracked password for different online accounts over a period of years, according to leaked records reviewed by WIRED. Following her participation in a Signal group chat in which sensitive details of a military operation were unwittingly shared with a journalist, the revelation raises further questions about the security practices of the US spy chief.

WIRED reviewed Gabbard's passwords using databases of material leaked online created by the open-source intelligence firms District 4 Labs and Constella Intelligence. Gabbard served in Congress from 2013 to 2021, during which time she sat on the Armed Services Committee, its Subcommittee on Intelligence and Special Operations, and the Foreign Affairs Committee, giving her access to sensitive information. Material from breaches shows that during a portion of this period, she used the same password across multiple email addresses and online accounts, in contravention of well-established best practices for online security. (There is no indication that she used the password on government accounts.)

Two collections of breached records published in 2017 (but breached at some previous unknown date), known as “combolists,” reveal a password that was used for an email account associated with her personal website; that same password, according to a combolist published in 2019, was used with her Gmail account. That same password was used, according to records dating to 2012, for Dropbox and LinkedIn accounts associated with the email address tied to her personal website. According to records dating to 2018 breaches, she also used it on a MyFitnessPal account associated with a me.com email address and an account at HauteLook, a now-defunct ecommerce site then owned by Nordstrom.

Records of these breaches have been available online for years and are accessible in commercial databases.

The password associated with all of the accounts in question includes the word “shraddha,” which appears to have personal significance to Gabbard: Earlier this year, The Wall Street Journal reported that she had been initiated into the Science of Identity Foundation, an offshoot of the Hare Krishna movement into which she was reportedly born and which former members have accused of being a cult. Several former adherents told The Journal that they believe Gabbard received the name “Shraddha Dasi” when she was allegedly received into the group. Gabbard’s deputy chief of staff, Alexa Henning, responded to questions from The Journal at the time by posting them on X and accusing the news media of publicizing “Hinduphobic smears and other lies.”

“The data breaches you’re referring to occurred almost 10 years ago, and the passwords have changed multiple times since,” wrote Olivia Coleman, a Gabbard spokesperson, in response to questions from WIRED. “As our deputy chief of staff has already made clear on a number of occasions, the DNI has never and doesn’t have affiliation with that organization. Attempting to smear the DNI as being in a cult is bigoted behavior.“

“Your bigoted lies and smears of a cabinet member and your story fomenting hinduphobia is noted,” wrote Henning in response to a follow-up question about the probability of Gabbard’s password containing the same name she was reportedly received into Science of Identity Foundation with, given her denials that she has ever been affiliated with the group. “This was well litigated during her confirmation hearing so congrats on being about 6 months late to this story. Great job.”

Science of Identity did not respond to a request for comment.

Security experts advise people to never use the same password on different accounts precisely because people often do so. If a password for one account is revealed in a breach, hackers will often attempt to use it to access other accounts controlled by the same person. Reusing passwords is especially dangerous with email, because a compromised email account can be used to reset credentials for other accounts or systems.

The Cybersecurity Infrastructure and Security Agency, the top US government authority on digital security, advises members of the public to use a password manager to generate a different password of at least 16 characters, consisting of random strings of mixed-case numbers, letters, and symbols or at least four unrelated words, for every account they use.

As director of national intelligence, Gabbard oversees the 18 organizations comprising the US intelligence community, including the Central Intelligence Agency and the National Security Agency, and their budget of roughly $100 billion. By statute, she is the principal adviser to the president and the National Security Council on intelligence matters relating to national security, and so is charged with maintaining the security of much of the most sensitive information in the government. The Democratic National Committee, citing a 2019 statement that Syrian dictator Bashar al-Assad was “not the enemy of the United States,” news reports on the support she has enjoyed from Russian state media, and her ties to “conspiracy theorists,” has characterized Gabbard as a “direct threat to our national security.”

Gabbard addressed these criticisms during her Senate confirmation hearings in January.

“Those who oppose my nomination imply that I am loyal to something or someone other than God, my own conscience, and the constitution of the United States, accusing me of being Trump’s puppet, Putin’s puppet, Assad’s puppet, a guru’s puppet, Modi’s puppet, not recognizing the absurdity of simultaneously being the puppet of five different puppet masters,” she said. “The fact is, what truly unsettles my political opponents is I refuse to be their puppet.”

[tonkatsubowl]

blind. ii

dan heng x fem!reader

it's a series now! ⛧ part one. ⛧ part three.

➽ inspired by satoru gojo! what if the reader had a special ability with her eyes and often wore a blindfold?

➽ reader is a flirt!

≫ requested tags: @truesimp

after successfully infiltrating the astral express and downloading a bit of data from dan heng's computer, you returned to elios' office to deliver the flash drive where you were praised for your work.

...in truth though, the flash drive you gave to elios was a fraud. should he open it, it would only be a security error with corrupted data. you executed this flawlessly, too, due to the sake of your curiosity and admiration for dan heng.

as a result, you were given a few days off, considering you didn't exactly have any missions to do since kafka, blade and silver wolf were assigned to those missions.

elios really did fall for it, huh? after all, you had a plan for dan heng.

the moment you entered your own room, you pulled your blindfold off, looking into the mirror with those strange, stellaron-infused eyes of yours.

right... you were a test subject to a project of another world. the scientists that practically had your life in their hands had these experiments where they'd force a stellaron into someone's body to see if it was compatible. but alas, you were somehow compatible with a stellaron forced into your eyes, deeming you a successful experiment, and forced you to become a powerful soldier for the worldly military. unfortunately (?) for you... your world was... well, destroyed for whatever reason. you didn't have any memories besides you were being tortured constantly by those scientists. kafka had retrieved you and took you prisoner at first, where elios had given you the opportunity to work for him.

and now here you were, one of the best performing members of the stellaron hunters.

... and really, here you were, seated at a café in belobog. you were a regular here in belobog on your days off.

in public, you wore a pair of sunglasses that kafka specifically made for your eyes. your eyes weren't always visible, but you always had the hearts of the baristas.

you always ordered a sweet, white mocha latte, and the baristas in the café who practically had a crush on you basically memorized your order. they always created cute little foam art on your coffee that represented a cat, or a bunny... sometimes random animals whenever you paid them a visit.

while you were relaxing on your day off, you hear your phone go off, a gentle buzz and your peculiar notification ping that rang through your very ears.

".. hm?"

➽ unknown: hey, it's me.

ooh, oh my. he really did text you...

➽ ???: oh, you really did text me, dan-dan. let me add you.

➽ dan heng: your name isn't even displayed through your contacts...?

➽ ???: oh, not at all. i like to keep my identity a secret.

➽ dan heng: i see.

➽ ???: so, what brought you to text me, cutie pie? did you miss me? ♡︎ i missed you too you know.

➽ dan heng: i'm texting you because i want to know why you downloaded the information of my entire database into that flash drive... and you didn't even bother erasing everything on my computer.

➽ ???: it should be obvious to you that i stole some info from you lol ♡︎ it's for my boss.

➽ dan heng: boss? you're a stellaron hunter then?

➽ ???: was it not obvious enough, babe? why, cmere, let's talk more in person. i prefer talking to you than text.

➽ dan heng: okat.

➽ dan heng: ojay.

➽ dan heng: okay**.

➽ ???: lmao. you're so cute... but i doubt you can come here right now. you're still on xianzhou luofu aren't you?

➽ dan heng: ?? how did you know i was just there... well, i guess it makes sense considering kafka was there too. but i'm on my way to belobog right now to visit a library. we can meet up later.

➽ ???: oh, well lucky day for the both of us. i'm at the café in belobog.

➽ dan heng: alright. well, i'll be there soon.

➽ ???: see u soon cutie

there was a sly smile across your face as you placed your phone upside down on the table. you were quite excited to see dan heng again since that fateful day. it wouldn't be long until dan heng would show himself.

the café had bells attached to the door, and the moment you heard the bells jingle, you took one final sip of the latte before moving the empty mug to the side of the table, recognizing your little boy toy from a bit of a distance.

catching the glimpse of your h/c hair and the lack of visibility of your eyes, he made his way towards your table, seating himself across from you. you could hear the quiet gossiping of the baristas as they wondered if you were truly single.

"hey, baby." you cooed at dan heng, who had a serious expression on your face. "oh, you didn't bring anyone. i was half expecting you to bring your trail blazing team for a moment."

"were you worried?" dan heng raised a brow as he looked down at the menu.

"ufufu. no, not exactly. you didn't seem to bring a friend on... the first date."

you see him flinch a bit, a tint of red painting his cheeks as he coughed awkwardly.

"this is not a date." he stammered.

"yes it is.~" you cooed before tapping the table. "order anything you'd like. it's on me."

"i don't want to order anything. i'm here purely for business purposes." dan heng said, as he looked straight towards your sunglasses.

"... the flash drive. you already submitted it to your boss, no? for what purpose do you have with the information in my database?"

there was a look of amusement. he could read it too, despite being unable to see your sunglasses.

"oh, who knows? my boss was just telling me to do things. i get paid very well whenever i'm tasked with what to do, y'know. that's the work of a stellaron hunter." you tilt your head, staring at him amusingly. "oh, right..."

reaching into your pocket, you pull out the flash drive. the same one you used to infiltrate his computer.

"i still have it. i gave my boss a fake one."

dan heng froze at the sight of the flash drive, almost ready to reach out to steal from your grasp. but you were... well, faster than him, especially when you had knocked him on his ass the other night.

"...what? why do you have that? look— just," dan heng shook his head, "i doubt anything i say will sway your mind to giving me that flash drive."

"ah, ah, ah." you mused, shaking your head at him. "hold up there, dragon boy. you're rushing into conclusions too fast. do the others know about this, actually? did you tell them?"

dan heng shook his head. you read his body language — he wasn't lying.

"...i see. perfect. let's have a deal, then."

dan heng blinked, raising a brow. "a deal?"

"you heard me, cutie." you said, looking back to the menu. you might order another latte or something else in a bit...

"...what's the deal?"

"hehe. curious, are you? well..." you stuffed the flash drive away, adjusting your sunglasses. "be my boyfriend."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..." you were smiling innocently at him.

".. wh— gh-..? huh!?"

"did i stutter, babe?"

dan heng choked for a moment, coughing into his fist as he turned red. "what—? why? are you... a-are you sane right now?"

"guess i'll turn in the info." you mused.

"wait—wait. fine."

your smile widened. "oh, geez, dearie me. does this mean you're my boyfriend?"

dan heng exhaled, looking to the side. "... i don't even know your name. if i'm going to be your boyfriend, i at least need to know your name. you already know mine."

"oh, for sure. as a reward for being so obedient, i'll tell you my name.

...it's y/n. ♡"

[natalievoncatte]

cw: violence

Lena checked her watch. She only had a few minutes to pull this off, and had to time it perfectly. Lex was across town meeting with an investment consortium from Japan.

Officially.

She knew what he was planning. She just lacked the proof she needed. Once she had it, she would go to the media through her best friend and confidant, Kara Danvers. She had eyes on Lex right now as he met, in secret, with a Kasnian agent, the same one who'd help him orchestrate the theft of a prototype Lexosuit; that had been one of the first times that Superman had shut down one of Lex's schemes, and earned his undying hatred.

Lena needed the final piece of the puzzle before she involved Kara and pulled her into the danger of her private little war with her brother. This was so far beyond anything Lex had attempted that Lena knew now was the time, she had to stop him now, today. The line had to be drawn here, and no further.

The secure lab was deep in the bowels of the Lexcorp Tower in Metropolis; Lena made the excuse of a meeting with some of the research team working on battery enhancements for the upcoming line of Lexmobiles. (Lena had spent hours genuinely trying to talk Lex out of that god-awful name, and actually call them something marketable, but his towering ego was as immovable as it was monumental)

Lena's heart was racing as she stepped out of the elevator, carrying her briefcase under one arm. She strode down the hall like she owned the place (she did, actually- or half of it, anyway) and made sure anyone watching on the security feeds would pay her no mind. She'd worked here for years; even though she'd moved to National City to lead her own division, away from Lex, Superman, and all the drama, she was not an uncommon sight in this place.

Maybe here.

Lena stopped at the door, a heavy steel slab six feet wide and eight feet tall. Breath catching, she slipped her hand in her pocket and slid her finger through the ring she carried there. When she pulled her hand out, an image inducer created a perfect replica of Lex's hand around her own, projecting the unique contours and ridges of his palm and fingertips while simulating his pulse and unique vitals.

It was either going to work or it wasn't. She pressed the false hand to the sensors and waited. It beeped twice and turned a healthy blue.

The door let out a rush of cool air as it slid silently aside, its motion mirrored by an inner door of the same dimensions sliding in the opposite direction. Lena stepped through and removed the ring; the doors slid ominously closed behind her, latching with a heavy thunk as wrist-thick steel bolts slid home, anchoring them in place.

She knew that not only was the entire room lined with lead, but the lights could instantly switch to a red wavelength and the long sliding panels on the wall would open to reveal K-Radiator emitters. This room was designed to be a death trap for Kryptonians, should one be foolish enough to enter. That was why Lena had to do this alone.

Supergirl would rush in where angels feared to tread, and given the chance, she'd barge through those doors and end up helpless on the floor, at Lex's mercy to murder without witnesses. Or worse.

The lab was smaller than she expected, and Spartan. Despite her brother's notorious, arrogant grandiosity, he could be relentlessly practical when needed, and at heart was utterly ruthless. Lab benches lined the walls, and the computer was no different, visually, from any other workstation, though it was connected to a vast private database and would have very difficult encryption and security protocols that no one in the world could crack.

No one but her.

The far end of the room was dominated by a peculiar machine, resembling an incubation chamber of some kind, roughly human-sized and surrounded by thick steel cables and tubes, with several dozen monitors rigged up all around it, displaying all sorts of information.

Including biorhythmic data and vital signs.

Lena ran a hand over the steel of the external pod. It was warm.

Her throat tightened. This might be worse than she thought.

Turning to the terminal, Lena sat down on the stool and took from her bag a small portable drive and connection cable, setting them on the desktop in front of her. Lex had one of those drinking birds dunking placidly away at a glass of water on the desk, another bit of his peculiar humor. She'd once loved that about him, before his joking took on a mirthless, cruel streak.

Letting out a slow breath, Lena wiggled the mouse and woke the computer. It demanded a password, pass phrase, and passkey. The two she had, the latter was what the drive was for.

She typed BUCEPHALUS in the password field, then THY FEARFUL SYMMETRY in the pass phrase field, then clicked the cursor into the last box and plugged in the drive, and waited.

The program loaded automatically. If she made an attempt to brute-force the passcode, it would set off the alarms and possibly even trigger a deadly trap in this room. Lena had to crack it without cracking it; it took her months to create this algorithm, with the secret and begrudging help of Querl Dox at the DEO. He'd been concerned about it falling into the wrong hands; he was right to fear that, as it could crack virtually any system in seconds.

It did exactly that, filling in the require passcode. Lena clicked the LOGON button and let out a soft cry of relief as the screen lit up with Lex's desktop.

He had a series of folders waiting, just sitting there ready to be opened. The folders had names like LEXOSUIT, PARTICLE EMITTER, BINARY FUSION GENERATOR, SPATIAL DISTORTION CANNON, POINT-TO-POINT TRANSMATTER... and PROJECT GALATEA.

Lena opened that folder, and found a series of video files. She opened the first one, dated over a year ago.

Lex' face appeared, the man himself seated in this very lab.

"Mother stole Supergirl's DNA and used it to breach the Fortress of Solitude. She walked those hallowed halls, and didn't invite me! Not only that, she took only one device, when Superman's precious armory was right there for the taking! Is everyone a fool? Am I doomed to be surrounded by incompetents?"

He took a deep breath.

"It doesn't matter. There's enough of what she took left to comprise a viable sample... all I need is time, and I had that in abundance now that I've taken care of that nosy Gotham prosecutor that was working with Superman. He's too busy robbing banks to bother with me, and with the Metropolis police and GCPD in my pocket, Superman and that flying rat of his have nowhere to turn."

Flying rat? What the hell was he talking about?

Lena skipped a few files ahead.

"We'll call her Project Galatea. My initial plan -to create a limited-use drug that would produce Kryptonian superpowers- has been a failure. Nor was I able to successfully create a viable clone."

Lena's stomach sank. Clone? Clone? Had Lex tried to clone Supergirl? Was that was this equipment was for?

"Then it hit me- I could complete the project another way, by filling in the gaps in her DNA, but that still didn't solve all the problems. There was a missing component- I still don't know how Kryptonians actually absorb and process sunlight, for one. Still, that seems to be solving itself. Galatea's cells are absorbing the artificial solar energy that I'm pumping into her maturation chamber at a geometric rate. She might be even more powerful than her mother by the time she matures."

Lena jerked to her feet, a chill running through her body. Mother? Wait, did he mean-

Oh. Oh God.

Lena let the video drone on in the background as she moved back to the chamber. It was encased in steel plating, but it was designed to open. Lena found a pair of goggles on a work table near the control panel and put them on before flipping a switch.

The panels rotated, exposing a human form lying at an angle at rest on a padded platform. A respirator, like a flight mask, was strapped to her face, and she was submerged in thick, bubbling liquid. The chamber would have been too brilliant to look at, if Lena hadn't put on the goggles. It was flooded with brilliant solar radiation.

She'd put the inhabitant between ten and twelve years old, with golden skin and dark hair. Lena blinked a few times; it was like looking at an old picture of herself, actually.

For a brief moment, she just stared.

Then it hit her, and she almost vomited as she shoved the switch and closed the doors over the maturation chamber, stumbling back as she retched.

What did he do?

What did he do?

"I see you've met your niece."

Lena whirled, and found Lex staring her down, standing in front of the lab doors with his hands clasped behind his back, a satisfied smirk on his face.

"How... what... what the fuck did you do, Lex?"

"I think you've already pieced it together."

"Why?"

"Why?" said Lex. "I'll tell you why. Security. The security of a free state, sister. I did it because it had to done."

"This is... this is obscene," said Lena. "This is a violation, Lex. I'm not going to let you get away with it."

He laughed. "Get away with it? What do you mean, get away with it? What are you going to do, sue me for custody?"

"You... this is monstrous, Lex."

"We live in a world of monsters, dear sister," said Lex, stepping closer. "Gods and monsters, and who are we? Men, just men. There's whole universe out there, a multiverse, full of these creatures, and the human race is defenseless against them, and worse, they're being welcomed. They're eating of those Kryptonians' palms, you included, and now there are more of them. The green freak claiming to be a Martian. The so-called Amazon. There's seven or eight of them running around. Eventually it'll be twenty, then thirty, then more. They'll run roughshod over our institutions."

"You're out of your mind," said Lena.

"Am I?" said Lex. "Superman and Supergirl claim they fight for truth, justice, and the American way, right? What if their definition of justice doesn't match ours? What if they decide the American way isn't good enough? What if they decide they need to do more than pull kittens out of trees? Then what? Tell me, Lena, what happens if Superman decides to fly down tomorrow and tear the roof off the White House?"

"He wouldn't do that," said Lena. "I've met him, and I know Supergirl. She's saved my life a dozen times, and I suspect you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Lex shook his head. "Mother's extremism has always been a burden. I've done my best to protect you from her, Lena, and I've been honest about it. That's more than you can say for Supergirl."

"You kept this from me," said Lena.

"Until I was ready. I had to be sure that she was viable before I bring her out of the chamber and introduce you. She's going to be part of the family. Our long lost cousin, who we'll raise as a daughter, knowing that the Earth is truly safe now. That we'll have one of them on our side."

"This... this is Supergirl's child."

"That won't be a problem," said Lex. "It's time for you to grow up and let go of these fantasies, Lena. Supergirl doesn't have any interest in you. You're nothing to her, at best a beloved pet."

"I believe in her. We've worked together."

"I said the same thing about Superman. You know how close we were."

"It's not like that."

Lex's smirk turned cruel. "Isn't it? You've always had a type."

'Fuck you," Lena spat.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "You're not listening. I guess I have to prove it to you. Computer! Show her."

The droning video log of Lex discussing the problems of merging Kryptonian and human DNA stopped, and another one popped up, taking the entire screen. Lena almost didn't look, but her head turned inexorably and she watched.

"Kara?"

Lena watched Kara Danvers walking down a corridor. She stumbled, as something hit her back, twice. Whatever it was tore holes in her cardigan, and she turned around, standing tall. Taller than usual. She didn't move this time; it was as if little puffs of wind were blowing holes in her clothes.

Except they weren't puffs of wind. They were bullets; Lena could see the muzzle flashes, off camera.

"What... how..."

Kara yanked her glasses off and shook her hair free, ripping the cardigan open, popping the buttons, baring the sweeping crest on the chest of her her blue uniform.

"No," Lena whispered.

"I sent the men who shot her in this recording," said Lex. "Don't worry, I already knew; Mother told me. The alien confessed it to her, before begging her not to tell you. I wonder why."

The video ended.

"This is a trick. She wouldn't... she isn't... she's my best friend."

"No, she's your master and you're an obedient dog, heeling where she tells you, and if you aren't... do you know what happened to the assassins I sent to kill Kara Danvers?"

Lena swallowed. "Shut up, Lex. Stop talking."

He smiled, teeth bared in a wolfish grin. "The martian mind-wiped them. He uses his psychic powers to erase the memories of anyone who compromises her identity."

"Stop," said Lena.

"Ever have any... episodes?" said Lex. "Any of those days, where you were so busy your memory gets a little foggy? Ever find yourself back in your apartment without quite knowing how you got there? Are you sure your own memories haven't been tampered with, Lena?"

"Shut up!" she screamed.

"You've been manipulated, tricked, deceived. She doesn't love you, she never will, and you have nowhere to turn. Help me, Lena. Join me, and we can be a proper family again. We can put things right, and lead a free world to-"

Lena reached into her pocket and pulled out a nickel plated Smith and Wesson Ladysmith revolver with faux-ivory grips bearing Lena's initials. Lex gave it to her on her twenty-first birthday, and went with her to the range the next week to teach her to use it.

"Oh," said Lex.

Lena shot him. The blast was ear-splitting in the confined space, leaving a painful ringing in its wake. Lex crumpled, toppling onto his side as if his strings had been cut. Rolling onto his back, he stemmed the gushing of his lifeblood from the wound just below his ribs and looked at her.

"Didn't think you had it in you," he rasped. "Should have known you'd be the one. You can only count on blood."

Tears stung her eyes, blurred her vision. Lena held out the weapon, her grip trembling as she aimed at his head.

"You'll never stop," she choked out. "You'll kill her. She'll never be safe as long as you're alive."

Lex grinned, the corners of his mouth wet with blood. "Do it."

Lena's finger flexed, but the trigger felt frozen in place. As it shifted slightly, a flood of memories slammed through her- shooting lessons and chess games, strange idle fancies and muted conversations, long rides in the back of sedans. Lena's graduation, Lionel's funeral, Lillian's abuses, Lex standing between their father and Lena with a bruise on his jaw, warning the old man not to lay another hand on her.

A sob tore from her throat. She couldn't do it. She couldn't.

Lex laughed flecks of blood onto the floor.

"Go on, then. I don't need you. I have my own Kryptonian, and she's going to be daddy's little girl."

It was as if the rain suddenly stopped, the sun cracking open the clouds. The gun was terribly loud again, and Lena turned away before she saw the shot connect, looking away from the blood fanning out across the floor as Lex went silent and still.

Shoving the still-hot gun back into her pocket, Lena ran.

Thought I'd share a little bit more from the in-progress Curse of Strahd AU/Crossover!

[letternotekisses]

Yap about your self-insert oc please 🙏🙏🙏 I love hearing about people's ocs :3

Bet! She's still in the works, but I've already decided I want to ship her with Doom, lol. Take this random ass thing I wrote up!! Any questions about her I'd be so very pleased to answer. <3

Ortolan is rather complex in the way that she is. While never exactly an official Overwatch agent, she was loosely acquainted, and at some point could be found within their database and minimal online articles. She had been extended an invitation to formally join at one point in time, but rejected it in favour of living outside of the public eye, formerly suffering with agoraphobia in her young adult years.

Her work and input were often small, but it still left Winston leaving a smiley face next to her file as he typed it up. He'd thought them to be friends - at least somewhat. Even if she was flighty and weird, unable to relax and let people past that stiff, awkward shell. It was a nice little addition to their database, like a family photo with that one distant cousin you love all the same.

Although, when Overwatch had disbanded, fallen apart and melted away like ash in snow, everyone had assumed that those particular files were safe. Not necessarily firewalled to the nines, but unimportant enough that they be left alone by any power hungry tyrants on the look out for scraps of information.

Or so they had thought.

Winston had yet to remember that she'd been right in the heart of their operations at times, seen their worsts, their bests, their personal lives, their work lives and everything in-between. Too busy shielding everyone else to remember that she was practically a little goldmine of information. And the file with all of her personal information lay unguarded, bare and unprotected like a baby animal fresh from the mould of its shell.

So, unsuspectingly easy for a bubble-gum chewing hacker to stumble across, violet eyes bright and tuned, like a predator honing in on prey. Something new and shiny to show the big boss, something fresh and enticing to curry favour with him and hopefully line her pockets. A new target.

And of course, Akande was all too pleased. A plan dividing in his mind as his gaze roved over the data pad, Ortolan's face caught and zoomed in on under a dim streetlight, pixelated to all hell on the security camera but undeniably her.

[arlechinav-blog]

Starting Materials for Mediterranean Trancework

If you are wondering what you will need to get started on this as a group, I have put together a list of materials. This is basically what I use when I am teaching others how to do this and when I host trance rituals.

I keep a fully stocked trance kit with extras of all the below items so that those who need them can have something to use until they can get their own. If you intend to lead your own group, be prepared to provide at least a few things for the effort.

Frame Drums: 14”-16” frame drums with synthetic heads are best for beginners. Recommending Remo’s Thinline, Renaissance, Fiberskyn, or Tar series’. Synthetic heads help students build up skills and needed hand calluses at the same time. Goat or fish skin drum heads will tear up your skin and go flat without proper care very easily. Each person involved should know how to play a drum and learn the beats your group uses. Avoid buffalo drums and bodhrans, they are too heavy for Mediterranean style drumming. 

Whiteboard and Easel: A wooden repurposed child’s art easel will work perfectly fine. Use it to balance a whiteboard where you can put up weekly notes. Large clips or magnets can be used to hold up a poster-board too, depending on what kind of easel you get. These are great for keeping up your trance chant lyric notes. Only use a whiteboard for notes that you will need once. 

Poster Boards: Record trance chants and rhythms that you use with your group onto large poster boards so that everyone can read them during practice sessions. Use a poster-board for notes that you will need multiple times to spare yourself from writing it again and again every time you need it. 

Trance Rhythms: I start folks out with 10 trance rhythms that can be used for pretty much everything. They work for just about any Mediterranean song you can find. I will have to film some samples for this so that you can hear them.

Trance Chants: To get through a basic trance ritual, you will need roughly 4-5 trance chants. Start your group with their first 5 and work on getting them down together. Some groups will prefer to work with songs in English, some will prefer songs in other languages, and some will prefer a mix of both. Feel out your group before you decide on your chants. 

Online Database of Communication: Start up a group where you can share resources, communicate about upcoming trance dates, and load up videos privately. Keep it secure. 

Incense: Incense is a trance trigger so pick one scent and stick to it every time you do practice or ritual. Keeping the same scent for all things trance will help participants go under. Use a soft floral scent like jasmine. Later, you can work in different scent triggers for different rituals. 

Rug: You can use rubber gym mats that link and/or an actual rug. Rugs will give rug burns so plan accordingly. Whatever you use has to be easily perceived by touch rather than sight--so tape on the floor will not work. This well defined border will be where the entranced are free to move. They will confine themselves to it so make sure it is the right size for the job you want it to do. 

White Flat Sheets: You will need at least 2 to start and +1 for each additional person who will trance. You can have your participants bring their own or you can pick some up from a second-hand store for fairly cheap. Everybody should have their own if possible.  

Colored Scarves: All things are color coded in trance for hypnotic suggestion and we use colored scarves to communicate with each other during trance rituals. People who wear a red scarf are monitors who look after trance dancers, people who wear white scarves are trance dancers who are there to trance, people who wear light blue scarves are musicians, and people who wear dark blue scarves are ready and capable of leading a trance session. You can have people bring their own or supply the group yourself. 

Your “Whites”: Each person will need an all white outfit to wear during trance rituals. For class, they can wear whatever they like. White is a spiritually neutral color used by all Mediterranean trance cults. Participants should supply their own trance clothes but you can keep a small supply of extra items to help supplement. 

Altar Kit: A trance altar needs to have a water jug and rinsing bowl with scented water for participants to wash their hands and face at (Cortas brand rose or orange blossom water are easy to find at Mediterranean groceries). It will need incense for participants to smudge themselves, their clothes, their hair and their instruments with. It will need a plate for monetary donations (it should never be empty). It is lucky to put an odd number on the altar ($1, $3, $5, $7 or $9). It will also need essential oils for use on skin that participants can rub on themselves (floral, fruit, or herbal scents preferred). Scent is very important to trance so the key is to be consistent and use it liberally so the scent can work as a non-visual trigger.

Wake-up Kit: A pitcher or fancy spritz bottle of cool water to spray or sprinkle on the arms and forehead of the entranced when they are done trancing. A blended oil of strong purgative scents that is dabbed on the fingers of the guide or monitor and wiped on the nose of the entranced when they are done trancing. I prefer a blend of rosemary, cedar and clove oil--that’ll wake you up! Make sure that no one in the space has an allergy to a product you use. 

Food: Always keep at least a loaf of fresh bread and some hummus for dipping on hand for post-trance snacks. Eating food helps those who have been trancing to come down and sober up. Water to drink is also helpful afterward. Be aware of dietary restrictions before you bring in foods that members of your group cannot eat.

Symbols: Think very carefully about the symbols you use and when you use them. Protect their meanings by bringing them out only when they are relevant. Continually reinforce their meanings in all that you do. This is a hypnotic suggestion and your symbols will become more and more important the more trancing you do. 

[thelongestway]

The "oops, all brennans" trend continues (honestly, the dice have spoken again, and so far ALL the new crew members have been brennan)! Ship, what is it with you attracting that specific crowd? This is likely the subject of either sociology papers or multiple in-jokes (probably both!)

Also I keep going back and forth on my preferred ship name italics convention. Sentient ships are the worst! /joking

Chapter 8: Contacts

Dandelion wasn't kidding when she said one crew wouldn't be enough. The first thing the Trellians did after sending infobursts back and forth with their main fleet was request a lot of really invasive shit, the worst of which was lists of human and construct contacts ART and I had. And for ART, specifically, those who knew what it really was. (We had a long argument about that constituting a huge security risk. In the end, they went with only the number of people and type of relationship on ART's list as the really necessary data, with additional information from me provided on request.)

(So long as they could convince me they actually needed the information.)

Iceblink swore when she read the info, and said the limited number of contacts constituted cruelty to any sapient intelligence.

Brisote, Dandelion's navigator, scoffed and said, "That's rich coming from you, Ice, we barely see you outside of a terminal these days."

"It's the option that matters," she shot back, wincing. "It's not like my team and I are doing all that work to keep our systems running and you don't even know it's us!"

"There's not a lot of choice here," Seth said to her.

"I get it!" Iceblink interjected. "Seriously, Antarctica is not the answer and all that, so I get it! But it makes our job a whole lot harder!"

"I concur. Perihelion in its normal operating mode has neither choice of privacy nor choice of contact. This is not optimal," Joscelyn added.

Kes role was mostly to handle the crew's psychological state, including Dandelion's. For some reason, Joscelyn was really happy to hear I had been talking to Bharadwaj already, and insisted that ART would eventually need someone like that of its own. ART told kem that was not an optimal use of its crew's time. Joscelyn said in that same voice Bharadwaj occasionally used in our conversations, "If you would like to talk about that, I think a private conversation would work best."

ART said, "Get a feed link, then we'll talk." (It had figured out very quickly that was the one line most Trellians wouldn't cross and used it at every possible opportunity.)

Joscelyn sighed and looked at Iceblink. She grinned and waved her feed glasses at kem.

ART said to me, They're serious about this.

It is best practice for dealing with organic-style thinking, Dandelion said. There are no roll-backs, so one must invest in maintenance to a far greater degree than you are probably used to.

Why don't your crew have feed links, anyway? I asked. It would make it a lot easier to work together. Just look at Iris. Or even at any of the regular Preservation humans.

Security precaution. A ship should not be able to overwhelm its crew. Also, full-cycle connectivity is terrible for the human brain.

I see you have not examined my medical databases yet, ART said. That is an outdated idea.

I have. And judging by the state of most of your humans, you have abandoned it wrongly.

I wasn't going to listen to that discussion again, so I disconnected. But Dandelion pinged me almost immediately.

SecUnit. Stay.

Query?

The more you are in contact with Perihelion, the better, so long as it is not detrimental to yourself. This will be a long process.

Listening to you idiots argue about who takes better care of humans fucking counts as detrimental.

Fair, she chuckled. But in all seriousness, Joscelyn is right. If it's full uplinks to construct minds that really do the trick, then we are far too few to provide enough stimulation as it is. You don't have to stay in that specific channel, but remain in-feed if you can.

Instead of answering, I just showed her the architecture of the shared workspaces ART and I usually had set up. Most of them were just regular processes that we thought the other might have some useful input on, but one of them usually had some kind of show running. Right now it was the latest episode of Cold Sleep Explorers (ART had promised Iris it wouldn't interfere with her game, so we continued watching ahead).

Ah. Far ahead of me, I see. Good, Dandelion said.

And then the show caught her attention. A lot more of her attention that it should have.

This was never a good sign.

Query?

It's nothing, Dandelion said, withdrawing. She sounded amused, but I didn't ask her about it. Iris and I still had that game to play, and I didn't want to get spoiled.

---

A couple days later, Dandelion suddenly tapped my feed. (Well, a couple nights later. Most of the humans, both hers and ours, were taking their rest periods. ART wasn't, of course, but one thing Dandelion had gotten out of it was to designate people she could come to for questions if she needed an external opinion on it, and made it promise not to hack into those conversations unless it was completely necessary).

(Even Dandelion didn't think she could tell ART not to ever hack a conversation it could actually hack.)

When I let her in, she peered at me for 2,3 seconds before actually stating her query.

This is going to be invasive, she finally said. But I need your memories of how you met Perihelion, and how it changed over the time you knew each other. Since you were the catalyst for its transformation, I'd like as much detail as you can provide.

I'd been expecting a question of that kind ever since talking to Joscelyn, so I had a data pack ready for her. She gave me an appreciative ping, then went through it without disconnecting. Oh yeah, she was having emotions about this. And not just the "what a wonderful relationship you two are having" kind that a lot of our humans did for some reason.

When she finished, she didn't even pretend to run diagnostics. Instead, she just hung out in the feed together with me, thinking. I didn't push her, and this went on for a good ten minutes before she finally said, I will need to ask you for a favor, SecUnit. I'd like you to temper me when it comes to Perihelion.

Query?

She paused again, looking like when she had been processing what to tell Ratthi and Mrinal about the Friend. Which gave my risk assessment a spike, but smaller than it should have been. (About 0,5 percent. That thing really needed recalibrating.)

I admit I hadn't been in agreement with most of my crew, who decided to treat Perihelion as identical to another node ship approximately as soon as they met it. What we've seen since then has convinced me. The problem is that it has convinced most of me, but not all of me. And this means I am not going to be fair to it when we begin training it. So I would like you to participate in the process and stop me if I am out of line.

Yeah, right again. I did not like what I was hearing.

How exactly am I supposed to stop you? The two of you have a lot more processing power than I ever did. You'd just be able to swat me aside like a fly if you wanted.

You will tell me to stop and I will stop. And the reason I will not swat you, as you say, is the same reason that I have not swatted my captain when ke said 'this is a node ship and its crew' even as I thought very differently. The node ships always come second to their humans, and I have had a lot of practice in disagreeing with mine and following their orders anyway. She sighed, giving a mental glance towards ART, who knew we were talking, but wasn't listening in. For now. Which is something I think Perihelion sorely needs to learn, for exactly the same reasons, but this is not my decision to make, nor my problem to have. Apologies. Will you do what I asked of you?

You haven't really defined what you want from me. I don't know what you mean by 'out of line' here.

The best plan we have for now is to train Perihelion's processors like we would train a human brain. That will mean exposing it to as broad a range of experiences as we can, occasionally pushing its boundaries. And I predict I will not be kind about that. Perihelion reminds me far too much of the last full AI I've had the misfortune of knowing and, to an extent, of one of its captains. This is not a good combination to start with, and we also don't have the luxury of bringing in another node ship to be its teacher. Our ship psychologists believe the few months it will take for one to get here could be critical. So I want you to look out for when I start pushing it not for the sake of Perihelion itself, but because I am seeing a ghost, and tell me.

That made a weird kind of sense. I sent her an affirmative ping, and she returned a grateful one. But before she disconnected, I still had one question.

If you had full AI before, why did your humans seem to think it was impossible when they met ART?

Because we only had two, who were not nearly as sophisticated as yours. One succumbed to the Breakoff virus, and the other overtook colonists' brains for extra processing power when they were connected to it in chronostasis. We haven't tried building them since.

Well, fuck.

And Iceblink said we were living in horror media.

Dandelion chuckled. There are many different horror media to live through, aren't there?

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 41 – FRIENDSHIP

RHODEY & TONY

Emergency Contact by whumphoarder

Pairing: Rhodey & Tony Rating: G Words: 4,042 Tags: MIT Era, Hurt/Comfort, Sick Tony

Summary: It’s not that James disliked his roommate, it’s just that they didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. Or, in which fifteen-year-old college freshman Tony Stark needs a ride to the ER and James Rhodes is too responsible for his own good.

Reasons why I love it: This fic feels incredibly real to me – like, if Tony and Rhodey were real people, this is how their friendship would've started. I love that we get to see the beginnings of Rhodey's affection for Tony and that they have this sort of brotherly dynamic between them. It's amazing, and I hope you go and read it for yourself!

Deposit Security by Reioka

Pairing: Rhodey & Tony Rating: G Words: 3,366 Tags: Mentions of Abuse, MIT Era, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Tony's always been a little weirdo. Jim likes him anyway.

Reasons why I love it: Rhodey is so patient and kind with Tony, is really great to see. And I loved that glimpse into Rhodey's family life and how Rhodey's mom practically adopts Tony on the spot. It's super sweet, even though Tony's struggle breaks my heart. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely read it!

fly so free (smile down on all you see) by orphan_account

Pairing: Rhodey & Tony, Tony & Peter Rating: G Words: 2,041 Tags: Domestic Fluff, Italian Tony, Tony Acting as Peter's Parental Figure

Summary: Rhodes finds a file in FRIDAY’s databases titled “Tony, Face It: He’s Got You Wrapped Around His Little Finger”, created by someone called May Parker. Of course, he investigates.

Reasons why I love it: The last line of this fic always makes me grin like an idiot. I really love the way FRIDAY teases Rhodey here, their dialogue is super fun. And of course, I'm always a sucker for Irondad, so Tony and Peter being adorable together makes me beyond happy. You should give this one a read, it's wonderful!

Don't Overthink It by Potrix

Pairing: Rhodey & Tony, Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 1,883 Tags: Protective Rhodey, Misunderstandings, First Kiss

Summary: Now, Jim is about as straight as a person can be—tested a couple of times by drunkenly making out with his best friend, which Tony loves to bring up whenever it’s really inappropriate to do so—but he has no problem admitting that, objectively speaking, Barnes is an attractive guy. He’s got that whole gruff, frowny, bad boy thing a lot of people are into going on, but whenever he actually does smile, it’s devastating. One time, Jim had seen a girl on the street do a double-take and nearly walk into a magazine stand after Barnes had smiled at one of Tony’s dumb jokes. Or, alternatively; Rhodey means well, meddles, and actually sort-of-kind-of ends up helping in the end.

Reasons why I love it: Aaah, meddling Rhodey, my beloved! His concern for Tony's well-being is so sweet, and I love how he has Tony's back without ever intending to mention it to him. Also, the background Winteriron romance is adorable, they're such dorks in love. Please go and check this one out if you haven't, it's amazing!

Interlude by icarus_chained

Pairing: Rhodey & Tony, Natasha & Tony Rating: G Words: 1,830 Tags: Fluff, Team Dynamics, Rest

Summary: After 48 hours of drawn out global action on behalf of the Avengers and SHIELD, Tony and Rhodey come aboard the Helicarrier for debrief and downtime. People are tired and frazzled, and slighly more unguarded than usual.

Reasons why I love it: This is such a sweet look at the team behind closed doors. I especially loved the banter between Rhodey, Tony and Fury, and how this truly feels like a deleted post-battle scene. Plus, that little sincere Rhodey-Tony moment at the end there made me super happy. I love this one, and I bet you will too!

[rlyc00l]

Rhys is going to put his skills to work and make these people trust the crap out of him if it kills him (Actually, he doesn't want it to kill him, he's actually going to try to avoid dying). Zer0's ego goes through some stuff. Everyone could benefit from like, team building exercises or something.

Also under the cut

The first thing Rhys did, after giving up on lying sleeplessly and considering his new position, was draft a message for Vaughn and Yvette. “Hey, I’m alive, on Pandora. Vasquez tried to have me killed. Sorry for doubting you. I don’t know what he’s gonna do now, be careful. I’ll be back soon.” He paused and deleted the “soon”, replacing it with “Sorry to be vague. I’ll explain everything next time I see you.” before sending. It wouldn’t satisfy them. When he got back to Helios, he’d launch the two of them up the corporate ladder (just slightly below himself) to make it up to them. And then he’d brag about this forever. 

But first, he had to secure his victory.

Step one: Gaining trust. He’d been a pro at that up on Helios. Building trust with your coworkers was one of those pillars of success in business (it went hand-in-hand with “strategic betrayal”). There was even an acronym: DARGH. Dependability, Approachability, Respect, Gratitude, and Honesty. Three out of five were easy, he could do those without trying. He’d have to do away with honesty, which left dependability. Dependability required competency, and he was far from competent in this setting. He still hadn’t even figured out how to reload. Luckily, he had the ECHOnet. He activated his ECHOeye and pulled up everything the Hyperion database could teach him about guns and shooting, and found diagrams of the two guns in his possession.

By sunrise he was outside, dry firing the pistol while aiming at distant bullymong holes, trying to get used to the gun’s auto-stabilizers. 

“What are you doing?” 

Rhys flinched, fumbling with the gun. It was Zer0, of course. The others were still asleep. His immediate impulse was to snap at them–why the hell were they always there? He restrained himself for the sake of DARGH and instead summoned all his Hyperion brand faux-affability. 

“Oh, hey Zer0.” Fake smile. Cheery voice. “I-I’m practicing. Getting ready for today, you know? You’re welcome to join.” Goddamn, that sounded phony. He was better than this. The whole double agent thing was throwing him off his game. 

Zer0 looked at him, then his gun. “There’s a camp, not far. / Living targets are better. / With a loaded gun.” 

“That…I-I’m good, thanks. I’d rather conserve ammo, y’know? For those uh, those Fleshripper guys?” 

“There’s a vendor, there.” They thumbed over their shoulder. An Ammo Dump vending machine leaned haphazardly against a nearby building.

“I don’t have–” 

“Oh, right. Your wallet’s empty. / Save your bullets, then.” A smiley face.

“W-wait, you saw who stole my money?”

They ignored that. “Still, practice, needless. / Today, I’ll kill the bad guys. / Just stand back again.” The word “coward” didn’t fit at the end of their haiku, but it was implied. Their “>:P” made that clear.

Later, as they ventured through Fleshripper territory, he did his best not to deserve the label. At least, his best within reason. He stood back, sure, but only because he didn’t have a shield and the others did. A thrown buzzaxe bounced right off of Axton’s head when it would have split his skull open otherwise. Salvador walked right into oncoming gunfire to kill the shooter. A grenade landed at Gaige’s feet and only gave her a few scratches. A shield was undeniably a necessity, here. 

Rhys checked bodies for one when he got the chance, but there was little intact for him to take. A few dollars here, some bullets there. The bandit’s actual killers got first dibs on everything. So he was forced to shoot from afar, careful to avoid his “allies”. Most of his shots missed, but sometimes they hit, and sometimes the bandits died. Those kills didn’t feel like that first time, but at least he wasn’t almost dying. Small victories.

A further small victory came for his “DARGH initiative”. With Zer0, of all people. 

Bringing up the rear occasionally put him near them, when they’d switch from up-close fighting to sniping. Their sudden appearances had startled him the first few times. They seemed to teleport, but it was a clever combination of hologram and cloaking technology. Rhys found that if he paid attention, he could sometimes see when their footprints in the snow parted from the hologram. Even then, he missed it more often than not.  

Zer0 may have been a total asshole, but it was pretty cool to watch. They’d appear with their sword buried in one man’s back. When the next bandit fired on them, the hologram would feign an attack from the front while they climbed a nearby roof, blowing his brains out without him ever knowing he’d been tricked. Rhys wondered if Jack knew about their method, or if he should report it. If Zer0 meant to fight Hyperion, the soldiers should be forearmed with that knowledge, the way these Fleshrippers weren’t. 

As he was considering recording them for Jack, a gunshot rang off from his left and two bandits dropped dead at the same time. Zer0 appeared with their sniper rifle on a low roof next to him. “Holy crap. Did…Did you just do that?” 

“Yes.” They projected a “:D”. 

“That was actually pretty badass.” 

They didn’t respond, only moved to a higher position, taking out another pair of bandits the same way, then a third with a headshot.

If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they were showing off. But there was no way they cared what he thought, right? It was worth testing. Rhys was well-practiced in the art of sycophancy. “You, uh, you think you could hit that guy way down there before Krieg gets to him? The one taking cover behind the crates.” 

The bandit in question was on the other side of camp, firing at Krieg as he charged. Only a small portion of his head was visible. 

A second after he said it, they’d shot, and the bandit’s head vanished in a spray of red. Krieg slowed to a stop, with a bellow of “Disappointed!” 

“Nice!” The enthusiasm in his voice wasn’t hard to fake. He never expected Zer0 might actually be easy to win over. 

“As I said before. / You need not participate. / I’ve got this handled.” 

“Right, clearly.” It was the same on Helios, flattery didn’t get you respect in return. Still, if he’d swallowed his pride and sucked up to Vasquez, the man wouldn’t have tried to blow him up. Zer0 was more the “literal backstabber” type, but still, the point stood. 

———

Captain Flynt, leader of the Fleshripper bandits, was the last thing standing between the Vault hunters and the mainland. He’d made his throne on a wrecked freighter sitting precariously atop an icy clifftop. Rhys lost count of how many the group had killed on the trek through the surrounding camps and the climb up to the ship’s deck. At that point, a reasonable person would surrender. Captain Flynt wasn’t a reasonable person. 

Claptrap had raced in ahead of the rest of them, waiting at the top of the ramp that led to the ship’s deck. “Yoohoo! Minions, this way!” He waved them on impatiently. 

Maya stopped there. “We should go in with a plan. One would have to be pretty hard to kill to lead a bandit clan of this size for more than a week, and Hammerlock claims he’s tough.” 

Zer0 barely glanced at her as they moved on after Claptrap. 

“I was thinking we shoot him full of bullets. Until he dies.” Salvador said, passing her.

“Yeah, that was more or less what I was gonna say?.” Axton stopped for only a moment, hesitating before jogging after Zer0. “Sorry, not about to let them get all the glory!” he called over his shoulder.

“I need to get keelhauled!” Krieg followed the other three. 

“Hey, wait up!” Gaige had the decency to look guilty as she passed. “Sorry, Maya, but I mean, we have more guns?” 

Rhys could only offer a shrug. “For what it’s worth, I was onboard with the ‘having a plan’ plan.” 

The battle was underway by the time he and Maya caught up. Flynt wasn’t alone, at least twenty more bandits fought alongside him. He was unmistakable among his cohorts. The man dwarfed even Krieg–but part of that might have been the thick, padded suit and the tall horns atop his helmet. He wielded both a flamethrower and an entire anchor with ease. Also, he was on fire, which didn’t seem to bother him.  

Yesterday, Rhys might have stayed on the ledge overlooking the deck, never directly joining battle. Today, he had a promotion and a turbomansion to look forward to, and DARGH to think of. Amazing what getting contacted personally by Handsome Jack could do to a guy. At least, it was enough to make Rhys hop down onto deck–only to slip on a patch of ice and fall on his face. Thankfully, this went unnoticed. The bandits were too occupied with those who got there before him. Each Vault hunter seemed to be fighting their own battle. Huge plumes of fire intermittently shot up from the vents in the deck, leaving thick clouds of smoke in its wake. Maya was already further up, he saw a flash of purple lift Flynt into the air. A buzzaxe-wielding bandit took notice of him as he was getting to his feet. Rhys shot him as he charged, and he stumbled to the ground and didn’t rise again. Then a second bandit was shooting at him. Bullets whizzed past his face, barely missing. Finding flimsy cover behind a wooden crate, he returned fire. Either one of Rhys’s bullets hit the mark, or someone else’s did. Regardless, that bandit fell too. 

He got another glimpse of Flynt near the broken edge of the ship. Zer0 was behind him, sword bearing down at his back. Flynt turned, delivering a blow with his anchor that knocked them off their feet. He lifted the anchor, ready to bring it down on them. Flames went up. Rhys fired a few shots where he’d seen Flynt. The fire faded. Flynt was running at Salvador, whose pair of shotguns seemed to do little to slow him. No sign of Zer0. 

“Krieg, come on! You’re in the way!” He heard Axton before he saw him. He was shooting over a pile of crates. His turret was perched on a crate firing at Flynt, only, Krieg was in front of its target. 

Fire again. A flaming bandit came rushing out of a nearby vent, screaming in agony. Rhys backed up, pulled the trigger. Out of ammo. The bandit fell anyway. He ducked behind cover. His shotgun held only two shots in it, and he’d never actually used it before. It would be better to stay here and wait for the fighting to stop. He heard more screaming–a voice that had to be Gaige’s. 

Could be a hero. That’d be worth points. 

He moved along the intact edge–towards the screams, trying to keep track of Flynt. The jet of fire from his flamethrower gave him away on the far side of the ship. 

When he found Gaige she was crouched behind a junk pile, reloading her submachine gun. Her robot was fighting off a bandit on the other side. Another three bandits lay dead nearby. 

“You okay?” he needed to raise his voice to be heard over the battle. She was soaked in sweat and covered in ash but otherwise, she looked okay. 

She gave him a strange look, then turned to finish that last bandit. 

He ducked down next to her. “I–someone was screaming. Was that Maya?” It hadn’t sounded like Maya.

“Oh! Yeah, that was me! Look at this shit.” She stuck out her leg. Her nylon tights had partially burned away, revealing her calf red and blistered beneath it. “Hurt like a bitch!” She’d sounded like she was being murdered. “Right. So you’re not in any immediate trouble?” 

“Nope. You’re bleeding, by the way. Like a lot.” She turned back to the battle. It was quieter now.

“Haha, what?” He looked down, not seeing any blood on him. “No, I’m not.” “Your face.” 

He was so soaked in sweat, it took a moment to find the blood on the right of his face, longer to find the gash starting at his temple and ending just past his ear. He hadn’t felt it until now, but suddenly his body seemed to remember that this was supposed to hurt. “Oh jeez… How…How bad is it?” “I think you just got grazed, dude. You’re fine.” 

“Owwww…” It burned.  

Gaige, put away her gun, getting to her feet. “Anyway, I think we’re done?” 

Clutching his head, he followed her lead. There were dead bandits everywhere. On the far side was Flynt, lying in a heap on the deck. Flames had stopped coming up from the vents. “Huh, wonder if he was like, remotely controlling the fire somehow…”   

“Dunno.” Rhys couldn’t find it in himself to be that curious right now. He couldn’t remember the last time so much blood was coming out of him.  “First time being shot?” Axton joined him and Gaige as they crossed the deck to meet with the others. 

“Kinda hope it’s my last.” Axton laughed. “Good luck with that.” He looked him up and down. “Hell, did you ever get a shield?” 

“Couldn’t find one.” “Why didn’t you say something?” Axton stopped, opening his storage deck holoscreen. He was using his left hand, his right hung at his side, covered in blood. 

“Kind of got the sense that uh, begging would be a bad look?” 

Axton shrugged. “This isn’t Hyperion. And I mean, a little more to the left and you’d be dead.” He’d produced a Tediore shield, handing it to Rhys. 

“Thanks.” He clipped it to his belt.

They passed Salvador, looting a corpse. “Y’all see what happened to Zer0?” he asked. “Cuz if they’re dead, I already called dibs on that gun. The acid one.” 

Rhys glanced at where he’d last seen them, half expecting their mangled corpse. They weren’t there, but between the sheer number of corpses and trash on deck, they could still be dead and he’d just missed them. He didn’t feel like looking so hard, his head hurt. 

Maya and Krieg waited outside the deckhouse, beneath Flynt’s throne. Krieg sat on a still-panic-moded Claptrap. A buzzaxe was half buried in his shoulder, and Maya was trying to calm him enough to pull it out. She scowled when she saw them. “Couldn’t have spent a few minutes trying to coordinate an attack?” 

“Hey, the guy’s dead, right? And we’re alive.” Axton radiated self-satisfaction. 

“Hell yeah, you are!” Claptrap popped out of his panic-mode, almost knocking Krieg over as he rolled out to gloat over Flynt’s corpse. “Take that, Flynt! My minions are certified badasses!” 

Maya ignored Claptrap, grabbing the buzzaxe’s hand with both hands. “Your turret drained Krieg’s shield.” She gritted her teeth as she yanked the blade out. 

“No! I needed that there!” Krieg protested. The wound already began to knit together before Maya jabbed a hypo in the flesh near it. “Augh! How will I find anything now?!” 

She ignored that too. “Not to mention, if I hadn’t made it in time, Salvador would have gotten crushed by that anchor. And, I have no idea where Zer0 went.” 

“Another one into the pit!” That one took her a moment. “Wait, they went over the side?”

Krieg tensed, grabbed his head, and then managed an exaggerated nod. “Anchors aweigh!” Crap.” She looked around at the others. “There’s more hypos inside, get yourselves fixed up. I’m going back for Zer0.” 

Inside the deckhouse was what once was a lounge for the crew, when this was still a functioning corporate cargo ship. Now, maybe it was still a lounge, but hanging from the ceiling were bouquets of human skulls, and staked to the dart board was a man’s corpse, dead at least a few weeks. After the bandit camps, this kind of decor seemed pretty standard. Rhys took a seat on one of the lopsided, threadbare couches opposite the corpse. At least it was cold enough it didn’t smell, much. 

Gaige, Salvador, and Axton were going through the chests and crates that lined that wall, arguing over loot. “I did get the kill, so y’know, I think I should get the shotgun.” “You only got the kill because my turret softened him up!”  

“Oh come on, you guys killed one guy, me and Deathtrap killed like, a gazillion of them while you were fighting him.” 

“Those little guys? I was saving them for after.”

“Yeah, they weren’t exactly our primary objective.”

“So next time I should just let them shoot at you? Cuz I totally will.” 

Rhys tuned them out, absently studying the crude map next to the dartboard corpse as he tried to distract himself from the pain. The map must have been made by one of the bandits, it was an indecipherable mess, there was no way it was to scale. Was that supposed to be the ocean? Then that there would probably be Sanctuary… But what was that thing in the center? It didn’t match up with the maps he studied in his ECHOeye, but maps of border planets tended to be lacking… 

“Oh, right, Rhys!” Axton crossed the room to him, holding out a hypo. There was a bullet hole in his forearm, rapidly closing up as he offered it. “Hate to see a face like that go to necrosis.”

He took it with a “Right, thanks so much,” and a forced smile. It was only once his face started to heal that he realized Axton had probably been flirting with him. He didn’t know what to do with that fact, did it still count as a win for DARGH? Did that mean he was doing a good job winning these people over, or should he just take it as a testament to his looks? 

It was then that Zer0 finally limped into the cabin, just ahead of Maya. They crossed the room without looking at any of the others. “The path is open. / We board Claptrap’s freakin’ boat. / And get out of here.” They sounded pissed. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Claptrap said as he followed them. “Let's board me mighty vessel and kiss the shelf goodbye!” 

“Woah, wait, Zer0, You alright, dude?” Axton asked. 

“Yes,” they said. 

“Cause I have like, one more insta-health here.” He held up another hypo, smirking. 

“Give me it.” “I dunno. If you’re okay, I might save it for later. Does our untouchable assassin really need some healing?”

Zer0’s hand closed around the hilt of their sword. “You have eyes.” 

“Axton, just give them the damn instahealth.” Maya stepped in. 

Axton sighed, and Zer0 snatched it up. “This feels like enabling their crap, y’know?” 

———

Considering that the boat they were to take belonged to Claptrap, Rhys expected the prize to be some sad little dinghy. He wasn’t well-versed on boats, but it had actually probably been some sort of fishing trawler. He wasn’t sure how a Claptrap would end up with something like that, but it had SS Claptrap spray painted on it. It was a good-sized boat, even with eight passengers there was space to spare. Sturdy, too, though that didn’t make Rhys feel much better as they lowered it into the water from a pair of cranes attached to Flynt’s wreck. He clung to the side as it was slowly lowered into the water, wondering if the shield would save him from falling to his death. Every bump felt like it might be the end, but somehow the ship touched down without incident.  

“So, how long is it to the mainland?” Gaige asked when they finally got moving. 

“Fifteen hours! But don’t worry chums, I’m sure it’ll pass in a flash! I know some great boat trip games!”  

“Ugh. If anyone needs me I’m gonna go over there and tune up Deathtrap.” 

“Yeah, uh, shouldn’t you be steering? Keep us from hitting any icebergs, or something?” Rhys tried.  

“You’re absolutely right! I guess you guys can have fun, I’ll provide the background music. Just gotta load up some sea shanties, and it’ll be a party in no time!” 

Rhys just hoped that Pandora wasn’t home to any horrific sea monsters. Before anything else, he found a tiny little bathroom in the boat’s cabin, a mirror on the door. There was a sink, but no water ran through it. Instead, he was stuck wiping what blood and sweat he could get off with his sleeve–Maybe Sanctuary would have actual laundry machines. 

It was then that Vaughn called him back, the notification lit up in his ECHOeye. He ignored it, no telling what the Vault hunters would do if they caught him communicating with someone on Helios. A moment later he got the voicemail and played it directly into his implants. 

“Holy shit, Rhys. I just saw your message. I’m so glad you’re okay. Or, I hope you’re okay. I’m gonna choose to believe you’re not answering because you are busy actively surviving that hellhole. What happened? Where are you? Can we do anything to help? Yvette can send down supplies? You, uh, you don’t have to worry about us. Get this, Vasquez disappeared, his nameplate’s gone, office cleaned out, no one knows what’s going on. But supposedly, he got called in for a meeting with Jack, and you know… Try to get back up here soon. And don’t drink the water down there! Or eat anything weird. Call me back. If you’re still alive, I mean.” 

Rhys texted a reply, practicing with the ECHOeye functionality he’d used to message Jack: “Still alive. Can’t call you, I’m surrounded by bandits. We’ve reached an understanding though, they trust me. I’m not going to be in mortal danger anytime soon unless I start openly talking to someone on Helios.” 

The text response from Vaughn came a minute later: “Holy shit, dude. Are you sure they’re not planning to eat you? I heard Pandora is chock full of cannibals.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Okay, still, you should really find a Hyperion base or something.” “I’ll keep an eye out.” A lie, but he wasn’t about to give too much away. 

“I gotta get back to work, Don’t want anyone else up here getting called into Jack’s office. I’ll message later. But seriously, you need anything, let me or Yvette know.” “Yep. See you later.” He had to smile–Vaughn had nothing to worry about up there, Jack had already done him a favor and gotten Vasquez out of the way. He played this right and he could get his friends comfy, safe positions before this was over. 

He passed Axton on his way out of the cabin, already napping on one of the little cots. 

Outside, the rest of them were keeping their distance from each other. Krieg was at the prow of the ship, yelling incoherently at the sea ahead. Maya sat on a crate nearby, somehow ignoring him enough to be reading a book. Gaige worked on her robot, disassembled parts laid out across the deck in front of her. Salvador was cleaning his shotgun. Zer0 was just leaning against the side of the boat, arms crossed, things like “B0R3D”, “...”, and “UGH” occasionally flashing over their helm. 

Claptrap, at least, was too occupied with steering to bother anyone with more than singing.

Everyone still seemed too tense to approach, but he still had a lot of material on the Hyperion database that may or may not come in handy to study. He sat down leaning against the cabin’s outer wall, and pulled up an entry of their destination, Three Horns. 

“Three Horns is a small region named for its three stone crags. Ringed by mountains to the east and precipitous cliffs to the west, the area is…” 

“That should be removed.” Zer0’s voice interrupted his reading. They were kneeling in front of him. “Before we reach the city. / It may get you killed.”

“Wha..?” He closed out of the ECHOeye entry. “What?” 

They poked his chest.  “Oh. Yeah.” It barely peered out under the bandit’s jacket, only the “Hy” visible, but it was undeniably Hyperion’s logo on his vest

“In Sanctuary / I hear they find clever ways / Of killing your kind.” They projected a “;)”. 

“Right…” It was a nice vest. Expensive, hardy. He couldn’t just throw the whole thing out. But he could probably cut through the stitching. “You’ve got a knife or something?” 

“Yes,” they said. 

He waited. They made no move to offer him anything. 

“Can I use it?” 

They cocked their head, seeming to consider for a moment. “No.” They stood and returned to their prior spot. 

After half an hour of fighting with the label, he’d managed to pull it a third of the way off. Hyperion stitching was good. He was considering resorting to using his teeth when a folded pocket knife landed in front of him. He looked up to see Zer0, and took the knife with a “Thanks? Wish you’d given this to me before?” 

The knife was marked “DAHL”. 

“Er…Did…Did you steal this from Axton?” 

“He is still sleeping. / If I were you, I’d work fast. / He will wake angry.” They projected a “:3”. 

[emexotechnologies]

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[serendipitous-imagines]

Helloooo here to also request a fnaf sb comfort request! (preferably pre-ruin)

May i request Roxy taking care of a chronic fatigue reader? gender neutral reader, and preferably how Roxy acts in ruin, being alot kinder than she appears to be in the base game!

Thank you! :)

Absolutely!! Roxy is actually one of my favorite characters from Security Breach and I am so happy that the Ruin DLC featured her in such a big way!! I hope you enjoy <3 !!

___

ROXANNE WOLF

✦ "Hey, what's going on? You look pale- here, come lay down against me, sweetie." Roxy speaks to you in such a soft voice whenever you have a bad spike in your fatigue and she notices it. More than likely she will wrap her arms around you and lift you off of the ground so that you do not have to stand up anymore. ✦ Roxy's Green Room has been customized for you so that there are plenty of chairs and a sick purple and green racecar bed for you to lay down on. The lights can also dim in the room so that you can lie down and rest without any of the bright lights on you. ✦ Whenever you start to get headaches or aches on your body, Roxy is fast to produce an ice pack to hold to your head and she will massage any spots that ache on you. Sometimes she offers you to pet her hair and tells you to close your eyes while she takes care of you. ✦ Roxy has loads of snacks in her room stashed away for you as well. Lots of salty foods and sweet foods so that your body has a nice balance of foods to keep your head from hurting too much. ✦ Roxy had to practice on lots of S.T.A.F.F bots (rest in pieces to the multiple bots that got their heads crushed or scratched up) to ensure she did not hurt you with her claws, but she learned how to give you head massages to help ease some of your pain during the day. ✦ "We don't have to do anything today. I am more than happy laying in bed with you and just existing with you. You make me so happy. Here, you lay in bed and I will use a cold face roller on you. How does that sound?" ✦ You do not really have to worry about walking around, Roxy will carry you on her back or she will let you drive around in her racing cart (or she will drive you around). Monty gets extremely confused and sometimes will chase the car around (it seems playful but you can never be too sure). ✦ Roxy tries to do yoga and meditation with you to help you self-medicate for your fatigue. She also uses her internal database to come up with all sorts of methods to help take care of you. Roxy likes to argue that her kisses are the best kind of medication for you and you alone.