#How to get statistical analysis in excel

[kneejerknuck]

i want to make a spreadsheet using trade information to calculate the fair market value of draft picks in each round and then use the year over year decreases to determine the average interest rate but unfortunately i have to do my JOB instead

[spencersmopbucket]

Polar Opposites | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader Summary: When you joined the team, it was very evident to the others that you and Spencer may not get along the best. You were water and he was oil — but when working on a team, the repelling can be dangerous. Themes & Warnings: Ummm violence, hurt/comfort with Reid!, enemies to lovers

You were raised in New York. Alone. No siblings or mother.

Learning independence was quick for you. By the time you were eight, you were walking yourself to school, a keychain with the apartment key and a bottle of pepper spray dangling from it. You were tough, bull-headed, but not completely absent of warmth.

Your father was a good man. A strong one. He was on the NYPD, a conductor of justice, yet a fair one. You idolized him, even when he came home with blood on his knuckles and exhaustion in his bones. You learned early that justice wasn't always clean, and rarely kind.

You quickly learned from him.

When you were old enough, he put you into self defense classes. It wasn't much of a surprise to him that you immediately excelled.

He watched proudly as you took down grown men twice your size in the ring, never once hesitating. “You fight like your mother,” he told you once. You didn’t remember her, not really, but something about the way he said it made your chest swell.

You lived by his rules. Protect others. Never back down. Trust your gut, even when it got you in trouble.

By the time you were a teenager, you were patrolling with a police scanner on in the background of your homework, studying both algebra and 10-codes. While other girls wore lip gloss and whispered about boys, you were memorizing the NY penal code and learning how to hold a Glock.

As soon as you could, you joined your father on the force. Not quite where he was. He was pretty far up. But you made him proud, which is all you wanted.

Every commendation, every collar, every time you kept your cool when things went sideways — he’d clap a firm hand on your shoulder and say, “That’s my girl.” And that was enough. It had always been enough.

Until it wasn’t.

The night he didn’t come home changed everything.

You were the one who got the call. Not the captain. Not some rookie liaison. You. Because you were his emergency contact. Because they knew you’d want to hear it straight, from the mouth of someone who cared.

Officer down. Ambush. Three men. Two with priors, one on a vendetta. He died fighting, they said. Died protecting his partner.

You didn’t cry.

You didn’t speak for almost twenty-four hours.

Instead, you scrubbed his blood out of his badge chain, boxed up his medals, and sat for hours in his worn recliner with your service pistol in your lap, staring into nothing.

The grief didn’t crush you. It carved you.

By the time you left the NYPD, you weren’t the same person. And maybe that was the point. You needed something new. Somewhere that didn’t hold his shadow in every alley, every precinct, every call sign on the radio.

The BAU wasn’t your first choice. Behavioral analysis wasn’t your strength. You didn’t have three PhDs or a mind built for chess moves and statistics. But they recruited you anyway. Hotch said your field instincts were unmatched, that you had a gut that couldn't be taught.

You were strong. Your suffering had hardened you into a diamond. But you did have a flaw. Sometimes, you rushed into things without strategy, relying on strength and impulse. You were more physically lead than others on the team, opting for the take-down rather than the talk-down.

This was what made you so different from the team's boy genius, Spencer Reid.

He wasn't the softest anymore himself. He was hardened by his abduction by Tobias Hankel, his drug addiction, his prison time, the loss of his first lover. But he didn't let it change him completely. He was still warm, like he'd been before. Still sweet. And he still did his job the same; in the same calculating, analyzing Reid way. He was more logic based than aggression based.

And that’s where you clashed.

Where you were storm and instinct, Spencer was method and measure. He needed answers before action. You needed action before the body count climbed. He quoted psychological journals; you trusted a gut that had never failed you. It was oil and water from the very beginning.

The team noticed it immediately — the sharp way you challenged his statistics, the way his mouth drew tight every time you went off-book, the way both of you refused to yield. Rossi called it "professional tension." Morgan called it "foreplay." Hotch just warned you both not to let it interfere in the field.

Of course, it did anyway.

It had been a difficult case.

A serial killer, targeting women, as was typical. It was a sensitive situation, requiring delicate action and careful steps.

The investigation went fine — smooth actually. It was easy enough to profile and find the man, but the hostage situation needed to be handled much softer.

He was holding a young woman in a cage, down below his house in a bunker. You, Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan were sent to do the confrontation.

The four of you approached the property quietly. The woods surrounding the cabin were thick and silent, the late afternoon sun bleeding orange through the trees. Reid had his tablet out, blueprints of the house and rough sketches of the underground bunker on display. You barely glanced at it.

“We can’t spook him,” Prentiss said, voice low. “If he thinks he’s cornered—”

“He might kill her,” Reid finished grimly. “He’s already escalated twice. He’s unpredictable under pressure.”

That was Spencer’s way — anticipate the worst, measure every variable. Your jaw clenched.

“Then we don’t give him time to react,” you said, cocking your weapon. “He’s not expecting a full team yet. We move fast, controlled. Get in, get her out.”

Spencer’s head shot up. “No. We stick to the protocol. We make contact, distract him, and—”

“There is no protocol for a man holding a girl in a fucking cage, Reid.”

Your voice was sharper than it needed to be, but you didn’t care. The thought of that girl locked up like an animal made your skin crawl. Every second wasted was another scar, another trauma she’d carry forever.

“Exactly. Which is why we don’t risk charging in blind,” he snapped back, stepping in front of you. “You go in there guns blazing and he could slit her throat before you even get your second step down that ladder.”

Morgan’s hand landed on your shoulder, a warning. “Both of you — not the time.”

But you weren’t done.

“Then what? We just talk to him? Offer him therapy? Hope he suddenly sees the light?”

Reid’s eyes blazed. “No. But we don’t rush in and make it worse. You want to save her? Then don’t be the reason she dies.”

It hit harder than you expected. Maybe because deep down, you knew he was right. Maybe because you hated being wrong in front of him.

The plan went Spencer’s way. At first.

You reached them. The man was sweaty, eyes wild. The girl moaned quietly in front of him, wrestling around in the heavy chains she was bound by.

Reid and Prentiss attempted a talk-down.

The unsub paced behind the girl like a panicked animal, holding a long hunting knife inches from her throat. His eyes flicked between Prentiss and Reid, twitchy and erratic, the delusion already thick in the air.

“I didn’t hurt her!” he barked. “I fed her, didn’t I?! She’s mine now — I chose her!”

You could practically feel the tension radiating off Spencer. He stood just a step in front of Prentiss, hands raised, calm as ever — but you knew him well enough to see the strain in his jaw, the slight tremble in his fingers.

“You’re not in trouble,” Spencer said gently, voice even. “You’ve been through a lot. No one wants to hurt you, we just want to help her. Let her go. We can talk, just you and me.”

The unsub twitched. “She loves me,” he muttered, jabbing the blade toward the girl’s collarbone. She whimpered again, and your own hand inched toward your holster.

“Reid,” you said quietly. A warning.

But he held up one hand. Not yet.

“You’re right,” he said to the unsub. “You did choose her. You saw something in her. That’s important. That means you care about her, right?”

The man’s breathing hitched — confused. Hopeful.

Then it happened.

She whimpered again — too loud. Too broken. Something in her tone must have snapped the illusion in his head. Because suddenly he screamed, pulled her tighter, and raised the knife.

You moved before anyone else could.

Gun drawn, aim steady, you crossed the space in two steps and tackled him. Your shoulder collided with his ribs, knocking him clean off the girl. You wrestled the knife from his hand and had him on the ground in seconds, arm wrenched behind his back.

You barely heard the girl sobbing as Prentiss rushed to her side. Barely heard Morgan’s footsteps pounding down the stairs. All you could hear was the pounding of your own pulse.

“God damn it,” Reid muttered from behind you. Not angry. Not even frustrated.

Worried.

The rest was a blur.

Back at the precinct, the girl had been taken to the hospital. The unsub was in custody. Everyone was safe.

But Spencer didn’t say a word to you until you were alone.

The motel hallway was dim and quiet, carpet patterned with decades of wear. You turned when you heard his door click shut behind him.

“You weren’t supposed to go in,” he said. Quiet. Low.

You crossed your arms. “And if I hadn’t, she might be dead.”

“She might be,” he agreed. “Or you might be. We all might've been. You can’t keep putting yourself in the line like that without thinking. You don’t get to be the only one who carries the risk. Not to mention what risk it puts on the other teammates.”

You blinked. Something about the way he said it — like you'd selfishly put everyone in danger.

Your eyes narrowed.

"How come you're always shitting on my busts, Reid? You ever think that one of these times, you might wait too long and get someone killed?"

He swallowed, his face tightening.

"Don't turn this around on me. You continuously stray from protocol like you're above the rest of us. If you just followed directions, I wouldn't have to complain."

You felt the flare of heat in your chest — insult, frustration, maybe even guilt. But underneath all of it, something deeper: hurt.

"Above the rest of you?" you repeated, voice low. Dangerous. "Is that really what you think of me?"

Reid held your stare, but there was a flicker of regret in his eyes now. He hadn’t meant to cut that deep. Or maybe he had. Maybe it had built up between you for so long, he hadn’t realized the blade was that sharp.

“I think you act like you don’t need us,” he said. “Like you don’t trust anyone but yourself. And in this job, that’s not just frustrating, it’s fatal.”

You laughed once, dryly. “Well, maybe I don’t trust anyone else. Maybe I learned a long time ago that trust doesn’t keep you alive.”

That landed. His expression cracked. Because if there was one thing Spencer Reid understood, it was the cost of trusting the wrong people. Or worse, not trusting the right ones until it was too late.

"You need to ease up. Trusting someone besides yourself might keep you alive one day," He hissed, leaning into your face. "You act like a stubborn, impulsive fool."

You scoffed, a snide smirk curling onto your face.

"That's better than constant fear and anxiety. I'd rather be too quick than too slow, Reid," your cold voice biting into him. "You're so busy tucking back into your turtle shell that you don't realize how much time you waste being afraid."

His eyes darkened, a flicker of something fierce igniting behind the calm intellect you knew so well.

“Being cautious doesn’t mean I’m afraid,” he snapped back, voice low but sharp. “It means I’m trying to think. Something you never do until after the damage is done.”

You stepped closer, your breath mingling with his in the tight hallway. “Yeah, well maybe it’s better to act first and think later than to be paralyzed by what-ifs. At least I move.”

You stood face to face, a silent snarl shared between the two of you. Spencer took another breath to snap back, but you were interrupted.

"Guys. Enough. The jet is about to take off." Prentiss said, placing a hand on your shoulder. You shrugged her off, slinging your bag over it instead.

"It's cool. I was done being questioned about my successful take-down anyways." You muttered, walking away.

Spencer watched you go, the frustration still simmering beneath his calm exterior. His jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on him. He wanted to say more; to tell you that beneath his caution was a desperate hope you’d be safe, that he cared more than he knew how to show.

But for now, he let the silence stretch, knowing this was just one battle in a longer war between you. And maybe, just maybe, there was a way to bridge the gap, if only you’d both lower your guards.

The jet ride was tense. You didn't even look at Spencer, opting to pretend he wasn't there. He couldn't help but glance at you, the brooding look always on your face no different than usual. He sighed, returning to his book.

Back at the office, you shoved your go-bag back into your locker. The photo of your father glinted at you, stuck to the back of the door. You knew what he would've said.

You traced the edges of the photo with a tired finger, the worn image of your father — a man who’d always been your anchor in chaos — reminding you of the rules he drilled into you:

"Protect others."

"Never back down."

"Trust your gut."

"I'm so proud of you, kid."

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat, the weight of those words settling deep inside you. You’d carried his lessons like armor all these years — tough, unyielding, sometimes too sharp to wield without cutting yourself.

You stared at his image for a few more seconds, before turning away.

You jumped. Morgan, standing behind you.

"Jesus." You said, taking a deep breath. "Don't sneak up on me like that, dude."

Morgan chuckled, his usual easy grin softening the tension in the room. “Yeah, well, somebody’s gotta keep you on your toes.”

He glanced at the photo taped inside your locker. “Your old man sounds like a hell of a guy.”

You nodded, voice quieter now. “He was. Still is… in a way.”

Morgan leaned against the lockers, folding his arms. “You know, you don’t always have to carry all that weight alone. Not here. Not with us.”

You met his eyes, the sincerity there catching you off guard. For a moment, the walls you’d built felt a little less necessary.

"... Thank you."

Morgan nodded, leaning against the lockers.

"I heard you and Reid had a little spat in the hotel earlier."

You rolled your eyes, grumbling. Of course, Prentiss would've squealed.

Morgan’s grin widened, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Yeah, I heard. Something about Spencer getting a little too in your space?”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “He’s got a knack for pushing buttons. Doesn’t know when to quit.”

Morgan shook his head, chuckling low. “That guy’s all brain and nerves. Sometimes he forgets there’s a person behind all that genius.”

You glanced away, feeling a mix of irritation and something softer beneath it. “I get it, but I’m not exactly easy to handle either.”

He leaned against the locker beside yours, eyes steady. “Look, I get it. You did what you had to do back there. You saved that girl.”

Your jaw tightened. “You think I don’t know that?”

Morgan shook his head. “No, I’m saying I see it. You’re a damn good agent. One of the best. But sometimes being the best means knowing when to slow down.”

You scoffed, bitterness creeping into your voice. “Slowing down gets people killed.”

Morgan didn’t flinch. “It’s not about slowing down all the time. It’s about picking your moments. You got guts, no doubt. But guts without control? That’s a problem.”

You finally met his gaze, raw and honest. “So what am I supposed to do, Morgan? Wait around for the bad guy to slit her throat? Let the clock run out?”

He studied you for a beat, then responded slowly. “No. But you gotta trust the team. Not just yourself. We got your six. We all do. Even Reid. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

You swallowed hard. The weight of his words settled in your chest. It was easier said than done. You were used to standing on your own — had been for as long as you could remember.

Morgan clapped a hand on your shoulder, solid and reassuring. “Your dad taught you to protect others, right?”

Your eyes flickered to the photo taped inside your locker, the man who was everything steady in your world.

Morgan smiled softly. “Yeah. And that means sometimes you gotta step back, watch the angles, think a few moves ahead. That’s how you protect the team and yourself.”

The tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. You weren’t used to advice that didn’t come with judgment, but this was different. It was real.

Morgan gave you a wink. “You’re a hell of a cop. Don’t forget, sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”

You nodded, the edges of your defenses softening just enough for a flicker of respect. “Thanks, Morgan. I’ll try.”

“Try?” He grinned. “No try. You’ll do it.”

You smirked back. “Yeah? You confident in me?”

“Hell yeah. Just gotta let the team catch up sometimes. And don't forget,” he said, nudging your shoulder. "We could all learn some things from you too. Even Reid, when he decides to get his head out of his ass."

You snickered, rolling your eyes and turning back to your locker, shutting it.

“Thanks for the reality check.”

“Anytime,” he said, before turning and walking away, leaving you with something you didn’t realize you needed — a little hope.

The next case came quickly. You almost weren't ready for it.

Your headphones blared into your ears as you trained in the sparring room, sweating as you bounced around a punching bag. Your gloves squeaked with every moment you made, punching into the bag with preciseness and toughness.

Your phone rang.

You yanked a glove off with your teeth and fumbled for your phone, the sweat on your fingers making it harder to swipe. The name on the screen — Hotch — made your stomach tighten. You were still riding the edge of your last conversation with Morgan, and now, here came another case.

“Yeah?” you answered, a little breathless.

Hotch’s voice was calm, clipped. “Briefing room. Twenty minutes.”

You wiped your brow with the back of your forearm. “Copy that.”

He hung up without another word.

You stood there for a beat, the bass of your music still thumping in one ear. The punching bag rocked gently beside you, evidence of your focused aggression. But the tension in your shoulders hadn’t eased. If anything, it pulled tighter.

Another case. Another town. Another family ruined. You loved this job but sometimes, it felt like it never let you breathe.

With a grunt, you unwrapped your gloves, tossing them in your gym bag. As you pulled your hoodie over your damp sports bra and headed for the showers, Morgan’s words echoed back in your head:

“Sometimes the smartest move is patience. Not just power.”

You smirked faintly to yourself, voice muttering under your breath, “Yeah, well... I hope patience works on serial killers too.”

You had no idea what you were walking into, but you knew this much: you'd face it head-on.

Just like always.

You pulled your work clothes on quickly and headed for the bullpen, tossing your hair into a ponytail.

The rest of the team was already there, relieved to see you walk in.

"Sorry. I was training." You said quietly, joining them at the table.

Hotch gave you a nod — his version of “no problem.” Reid glanced up from the file in his hands, his eyes catching yours for a moment before flicking back down. You weren’t sure what that look meant, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“Victim number three was found this morning,” Hotch began, passing a photo across the table. “Female, early thirties. Same MO. Ligature marks, posed postmortem, and a red ribbon tied around the wrist.”

You leaned forward, studying the image. “Same as the others. No signs of forced entry?”

JJ shook her head. “Nothing. It’s like they let the killer in willingly.”

You crossed your arms, thoughts already sharpening like blades. “So he’s charming, disarming. Makes them feel safe… until he doesn’t.”

Morgan pointed at the map. “All victims lived alone, all in a five-mile radius. He’s hunting in a comfort zone.”

Spencer cleared his throat, hesitant but determined. “Geographical profiling supports that. He’s probably familiar with the area -- might even live or work nearby.”

You glanced at him again, this time holding the look for a second longer. “Then we start knocking on doors.”

Prentiss gave a wry smile. “I like it when you get fired up.”

You shrugged, grabbing a file. “Better than sitting on our hands.”

Hotch raised a brow. “Let’s keep it focused. Morgan, you and (Y/N) check in with local businesses. Reid, JJ, and Prentiss, canvass the neighborhood. I’ll coordinate with local PD.”

You nodded.

"I know that PD pretty well. My dad and I worked with them for a couple of years. I'll pitch in with the communications."

Hotch gave a curt nod, clearly appreciating the initiative. “Good. Familiarity could speed things up. Just make sure they loop everything back to me.”

You gave him a short, respectful salute. “You got it, boss.”

Morgan shot you a quick grin as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “You sure you’re not trying to take Hotch’s job?”

You smirked. “Please. I’d make a terrible brooding authority figure.”

Hotch didn’t even look up from the map he was marking. “I’m standing right here.”

You and Morgan exchanged a glance, both biting back laughter.

As the team filed out, Reid hesitated at the edge of the room. He glanced at you, like he wanted to say something, but then just gave a slight nod and walked away with JJ and Prentiss.

Your eyes lingered on his back for a second before you turned and fell into step beside Morgan.

“So,” he said as you headed for the SUV, “you and local PD go way back?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My dad and I used to consult on cases when I was younger. He was training me even before I joined the Bureau. Some of those officers were practically family for a while.”

Morgan nodded slowly, the corners of his mouth tugging up in a thoughtful smile. “That explains a lot.”

“What does?”

“You move like someone who’s been doing this their whole life. It’s in your blood.”

You paused at the passenger door, his words landing heavier than he probably intended.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”

Morgan didn’t push. He just clapped a hand on your shoulder. “Then let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

You gave him a small smile. “Hell yeah.”

You slid into the seat, heart steadier than it had been in days. Maybe the next few hours would be hell. Maybe this case would crack something raw in you. But with Morgan’s support at your side and your father’s instincts still pulsing through your veins, you weren’t going in blind.

You were ready to hunt.

No sooner had you and Morgan hit the pavement than the scent of tension in the air thickened, like something dark had just passed through and left its mark. The PD station felt different now than it did when you were younger. Familiar faces looked more worn, more guarded.

“Agent (L/N),” one of the lieutenants greeted you with a surprised smile. “Heard you were coming in. Damn, you look more and more like your old man every time I see you.”

You gave him a short nod, your voice quiet. “Thanks, Lieutenant. Wish it were under better circumstances.”

Morgan stood back slightly, letting you take the lead. He watched as you moved through the room with purpose; calm, steady, authoritative in your own way. You weren’t trying to be your father, but his legacy lingered around you like armor.

“We’ve already pulled security cam footage from nearby businesses,” the lieutenant explained. “We can have it queued up for you in five.”

“Perfect. Let’s get started.”

Morgan leaned over to you as they set things up in the back room. “You’ve got them listening to you like you’re already in charge.”

You gave a tired shrug. “My dad never tolerated anyone doing half a job. I guess that stuck.”

He studied your face for a moment — sharp, focused, a little worn around the eyes. Then he said, “You know, you don’t always have to be the one holding it all together.”

You glanced at him, surprised.

“You said that already,” you reminded him.

He shrugged. “You didn’t listen the first time.”

You laughed under your breath, but your eyes softened. “I’m listening now.”

Before either of you could say more, an officer called you over. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

The footage was grainy but clear enough: a figure pacing outside a bakery at midnight. Twitchy. Darting glances. Then dragging something — someone — down an alley.

Morgan muttered under his breath. “Looks like our guy.”

Your expression shifted instantly. Calm became alert. You pointed to the timestamp. “That’s two hours before the last body was found. He was still escalating.”

The lieutenant nodded grimly. “He’s getting bolder.”

Morgan stepped beside you, already scanning the angle, escape routes, signage. “What do you want to do?”

You took a breath, already forming a plan.

“We start there,” you said, pointing to the alley. “We follow the trail. And this time, we end it before he escalates again.”

Morgan gave a sharp nod. “Now that’s the kind of leadership I can get behind.”

You smirked faintly. “Don’t get used to it.”

He grinned back. “Too late.”

You quickly phoned the rest of the team, getting them in on it. It was decided.

You'd be bait — the youngest on the team. The prettiest, Prentiss had claimed. But it would take something you weren't exactly versed in.

Patience. Calculation. Thought before decision.

You, of course, had too look like less than an agent. That night, you had to get prepared, dressing down from your usual slacks and dress shirt and opting for a more.. casual.. look.

Garcia, JJ, and Prentiss just couldn't wait to get their hands on you. It was a once in a life time opportunity.

You barely made it into the hotel room before the ambush.

“There she is!” Prentiss announced, arms crossed with a smug grin. JJ was already holding up two hangers, each with an outfit. Garcia was seated cross-legged on the bed with a massive makeup bag splayed open in front of her like a battlefield.

You blinked. “Did you guys.. Were you waiting for me?”

JJ smirked. “Garcia brought supplies.”

Garcia didn’t even look up. “Sweet cheeks, I have been dreaming of this day since you joined the team. And now… finally…” She lifted a compact like a weapon forged in heaven. “The day has come.”

“This isn’t a makeover montage,” you muttered.

“Oh, but it is,” Prentiss said, grabbing your wrist and tugging you into the middle of the room. “You’re going undercover as vulnerable, off-duty eye candy. We’re making sure you sell it.”

“Guys,” you sighed. “This isn’t Clueless. I’m bait for a serial killer, not a Tinder date.”

“Exactly,” JJ said, tossing a pair of stockings onto the bed. “So you need to look like someone who doesn’t know she’s being watched. Not like someone who could break someone’s nose with two fingers.”

The scene was a bar. Wasting some time inside of it, sipping on a few prop drinks all alone, before stumbling out into the alley where he'd most likely take his chances on you.

You had to look the part. The mysterious, lonely temptress who would go quietly if grabbed.

You were forced into a short, red dress, one that hugged your curves and showed off the length of your smooth legs. Your hair was curled, natural makeup on your already pretty face.

You were gorgeous. Not that you weren't usually. But this was much different than your slick-back ponytail and business only outfit, a gun hanging from your holster.

Garcia let out a dramatic gasp when you stepped out of the bathroom.

“Oh. My. God.” she breathed, eyes widening. “You’re not just bait, you're irresistible temptation. Marry me.”

Prentiss gave a low whistle. “Remind me to never stand next to you in public again.”

JJ smirked. “He won’t stand a chance. Poor bastard.”

You tugged at the hem of the red dress, fidgeting. It was shorter than anything you usually wore. Hell, it was shorter than anything Garcia usually wore. “I feel like a walking target.”

“That’s the point,” Prentiss said, coming up behind you to fix a loose curl. “But don’t forget. You’re still the most dangerous one in the room.”

Garcia handed you a tiny clutch with your wire and phone inside. “And just in case he gets any ideas before the alley, Reid and Morgan will be watching from the bar. Hotch and I are set up in the surveillance van. You’re never alone.”

You looked at yourself in the mirror again. It was surreal, like staring at a version of yourself that only existed in smoke and mirrors. A version soft enough to lure in a killer. A version smart enough to trap him.

You took a breath. Deep. Steady.

“I can do this,” you muttered.

“You will do this,” JJ corrected firmly, her voice resolute. “And when you bring this guy down, I want my red dress back.”

You laughed softly, the nerves settling into something colder, more useful. “You got it.”

As the three women saw you off, Prentiss stopped you with a hand on your arm. “Hey. You’re more than bait. You’re the one drawing him out. That makes you the one in control.”

You stepped outside, meeting Morgan and Reid at the undercover vehicle, a sleek black SUV. They stood talking by the passenger's door, only noticing you approaching when you got close.

Morgan was the first to look up; and his reaction was immediate.

His brows rose, a low whistle slipping out as he took in your appearance. “Damn. Remind me what we’re trying to catch again? Because I think you just stunned me.”

Reid, less composed, blinked rapidly. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “Y-You, uh, wow. You look…” His brain clearly short-circuited.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Careful, boys. I’m armed.”

Morgan laughed, clapping Reid on the back as if to snap him out of his stupor. “You good, pretty boy? Need a second to reboot?”

Reid cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets and very intentionally looking at the SUV instead of you. “I’m fine. Let's move out.”

Without another word, Reid hopped into the car, leaving you and Derek in silence. You rolled your eyes as Derek opened the door to let you get in.

Morgan held the door open with a crooked grin. “You know, I’ve seen you break a man’s nose with the butt of your Glock… but somehow, this might be the most dangerous I’ve ever seen you.”

You scoffed, climbing into the SUV. “Save it for Garcia.”

In a few short minutes, you were at your destination. You got out, securing the wire into a hidden place as Reid and Morgan looked around. You tossed your curls behind your shoulder and cleared your throat.

"Alright. In the bar for fifteen minutes, twenty at most. If he approaches you, play coy. If he doesn't, we still have a chance to lure him in the back alley," Morgan explained, securing his own wire and tucking his gun. "We're more likely to see him out there. He's struck in that area quite a few times."

You nodded.

"Don't be afraid. We'll be right there with you, just at a distance. If you're ever too uncomfortable to stand it, call for us."

You made a gesture of agreement to Morgan before finally glancing at Reid, who cleared his throat.

"Just.. Don't jump the gun." He said. He somewhat failed to keep the entitlement in his voice. You wondered what was plaguing him, but nonetheless, you ignored it, rolling your eyes.

"I got it, Reid. Don't worry. Your teachings will be on my psyche the whole time."

Reid’s jaw ticked slightly, clearly unsatisfied with your response but unwilling to push further — at least not in front of Morgan.

Morgan, on the other hand, was watching the two of you like he was sitting court-side. “Alright, kids,” he said, breaking the tension with a raised brow. “Let’s not make this a pissing contest. We’ve got a predator to catch, not egos to babysit.”

You smirked, giving Morgan a thumbs up as you reached for the bar door. But before you could step out, Reid finally spoke again, softer this time, less sharp.

“Just… be careful. Please.”

You paused, turning slightly to look at him. There it was. Underneath all the attitude and irritation — the worry. The fear. The unspoken something that had been simmering between you both since that stupid hotel argument.

You gave a nod. “I will.”

And then you stepped out, heels clicking against the pavement, shoulders square, mask slipping into place.

You weren’t the agent now. You were the bait.

For a while, it was dead.

You sat at the bar, sipping on a "vodka soda," looking around. You tried your best to keep your emotions off from your face, opting for a more bored look. Your legs were crossed. People filtered in, people filtered out. The music changed. Drinks were poured, people surrounded you. A few approached, but not the one you needed.

You checked the time subtly, tilting your wrist just enough to catch the glint of the watch Garcia had modified for comms. Seventeen minutes. A little longer than planned, but not enough to call it yet. You could feel their eyes on you, Morgan’s and Reid’s from their respective vantage points, watching every shift of your posture like hawks.

The bartop was sticky, the lighting dim, casting sultry shadows that you knew looked calculated from afar. You took another slow sip, letting your eyes drift across the room again. A man at the end of the bar caught your gaze, held it for a beat too long.

But he turned away. Not him.

Your fingers tapped lightly against your glass, nails clicking in a slow rhythm.

Patience. Not just power.

You breathed out through your nose, subtle and quiet. You could play this game.

Just when your boredom began to feel a little too real, movement in your periphery made your eyes flick. A man near the jukebox — tall, late 30s, scruffy beard, not quite drunk but deliberately slow in his movements. Alone. Observing. Not playing music.

He looked at you.

You tilted your head slightly, uncrossing and recrossing your legs. Deliberate. Casual. Vulnerable.

He didn’t move.

But now you knew.

That was him.

And he was watching.

You cleared your throat, turning away and looking disinterested, until you felt his presence get closer and closer. Then, he was right beside you.

"Out here all alone?"

You didn’t look at him right away. You let the question hang for a beat, took a slow sip of your drink, kept your eyes ahead like someone unsure whether to entertain the voice or pretend they hadn’t heard it.

Then you turned, just a little. Just enough for your lashes to lift slowly, eyes finding his. Soft. Unassuming.

You gave a half-smile. “Depends who’s asking.”

He chuckled lowly, like he’d practiced it. Like he wanted it to sound charming but didn’t quite have the tone right. “Just someone who hates to see a pretty girl looking so bored.”

You glanced around the room lazily, then back at him. “Well. Not exactly a thrilling place to be alone.”

His eyes scanned you too thoroughly. It made your skin crawl, but you didn’t flinch.

He leaned on the bar beside you. “Maybe I could change that.”

You shifted, letting your knee graze his thigh — accidentally, on purpose. “Maybe you could.”

From the comms in your ear, you could barely catch Morgan’s low voice: “He’s on her. Stay ready.”

You gave the stranger one last smile before looking down into your glass. “Buy me a refill?”

He motioned to the bartender. “Vodka soda, right?”

You nodded. “Good memory.”

He grinned, and that time it reached his eyes. Just a flash. Something darker.

Bingo.

Your heart kicked up. But your face never betrayed it. You leaned in, just slightly, pretending to laugh at something he hadn’t said.

You held a conversation easily, as if you'd been doing this forever. You barely nursed your drink, immersing yourself into fooling him more than anything else. You crossed your fingers.

And soon, it came. The question you needed.

"You wanna get out of here?" He asked gruffly, a hand coming up to stroke your exposed collar bone. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to snap his arm, slam him to the floor and cuff him immediately.

But you thought about what Spencer had said.

Contemplation. Patience. The art of being cautious. It was just as useful as the fire you usually lit onto anyone you apprehended.

You took a slow breath through your nose, keeping your smile soft, a little shy. You let your eyes flick down, like you were considering it. Like you hadn’t just felt bile rise in your throat at the weight of his hand.

This was the moment. The danger curled just beneath your skin, thrumming like a second pulse.

“Yeah,” you said, voice a little breathier, like nerves. “I could use some air.”

He smiled — victory, hunger, maybe both — and slid off his stool, his hand brushing down your arm as if he had the right.

Morgan’s voice was calm but firm in your earpiece. “She’s moving. Everyone hold position. Reid, keep visual.”

You followed him toward the door, a little slower than necessary, stumbling just enough to play into it. “Sorry,” you muttered with a nervous laugh. “Maybe I had one too many.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, holding the door open. “I’ll take care of you.”

The night hit you like a slap of reality — cold, quiet, real. Your heels clicked against pavement as he guided you down the sidewalk, toward the alley behind the bar.

Your breath hitched. Not from fear. From instinct. The part of you that was still an agent. Still ready to fight, to break him, to stop this before he could touch another woman.

But you stayed in character. You stayed the part.

“Reid,” Morgan’s voice came again. “Do you have eyes?”

There was a long beat before Spencer replied, voice low, strained. “Yes. He’s guiding her down the alley. Don’t move yet.”

You felt it in his voice. You'd felt it since your argument. The tension. The fear. The anticipation. There was something different about the way Reid talked to you, talked about you, ever since your moment in the hotel.

You turned to the man, letting yourself wobble just enough, brushing against him like you needed balance. His hand found your waist too easily.

“You okay?” he asked.

You gave him a soft laugh. “Yeah. Just�� a little dizzy.”

“Don’t worry.” His grip tightened. “I’ve got you.”

And then, just like that, he started to lead you into the dark.

Any second now.

Then, moments later, his grip on you became stronger. More direct. Less friendly.

"What are you—"

Without another word, you were slammed up against the brick, his dirty hands all over you. Frantically searching for something. Pain echoed through your body as he continued ruffling your clothes, pulling at your hair.

You frowned, struggling.

"Please, don't—"

"Shut up, bitch! I know you're a cop." He snapped, jerking you slightly.

Your jaw dropped. You felt as though you had cold water thrown over you, dripping down your spine into your heels.

"But I'm not." You attempted meekly.

Cautious. Don't fight yet. Contemplate your choices.

He snickered snidely.

"Officer L/n. I know your father, sweetheart. Or knew him," He said, his clammy breath fanning into your face. "He got my friends put away for life. And then there you were, following right in his footsteps."

He dragged you away from the brick wall, grabbing you by your face. A knife glinted in his other hand.

The cold edge of the blade caught the faint glow of the alley light, flickering like a warning. Your breath caught in your throat. Your hands were still raised — not in surrender, but in precision. Timing.

"Where's the fuckin' wire? Tell me or I'm slitting your throat and dropping you right here."

You swallowed hard, keeping your voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. “I don’t have a wire on me.”

His eyes flashed with suspicion, narrowing dangerously. “Bullshit.”

"Please.." You muttered.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

"Where. Is. The. Wire?!" He snapped, pressing the knife into you.

You froze for a heartbeat as the knife pressed sharper against your skin, a searing line of cold fire that threatened to break through your calm. Your breath hitched but you forced it back down, steady and slow, every nerve screaming for you to act.

“Wait,” you whispered, eyes locking with his — steady, unflinching. “You want the wire? I'll give it to you. I'm begging you not to do this.”

His grip tightened, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, just a flash. Then, the knife pressed harder, enough to nick you, enough to cause a drop of blood to drizzle down. You hissed, tears collecting in your eyes.

Before the knife could press deeper, Reid sprang forward in a sudden burst of strength and precision — the kind of controlled force you usually wielded yourself.

He grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching the knife away in one smooth motion. The blade clattered to the ground.

Without hesitation, Reid twisted the man’s arm behind his back and slammed him face-first against the brick wall with a sharp grunt.

The attacker struggled, but Reid’s grip was ironclad. He never did take-downs. He never felt like it was time. He valued a talk-down, a chance for the Unsub to see the light without an altercation. But something had snapped.

Reid’s breathing was heavier, eyes sharp and fierce — something you’d never seen in him before. The usual hesitation and quiet intellect gave way to raw, unyielding force. It was like watching a different side of him come alive, the side you’d been expecting all along but had never truly witnessed until now. The others had claimed to see it since he'd come home from prison, but it had never been revealed to you.

He hissed quietly, “Don’t move.”

You slumped against the wall, breathing heavily with a hand clutched to your neck. Blood flowed steadily, but not at a dangerous rate. Just enough to need a med team, but not enough to be scared. You stared up at the sky, frowning.

Morgan and Hotch came after, taking the Unsub from Reid, who was pressing him harder and harder against the wall every second as if he'd personally offended him with his existence.

Hotch immediately stepped in, his voice calm but authoritative. “Easy, Reid. Let him breathe.”

Morgan was already pulling out a medical kit, kneeling beside you quickly. “You good? That cut’s nasty, we can’t patch it up on-site.”

You gave a stiff nod, biting back the sting. “I’m fine. Just… keep him away.”

Reid’s jaw clenched, but he finally loosened his grip, stepping back reluctantly as the cuffs clicked shut around the Unsub’s wrists.

Your eyes met his, a quiet understanding passing between you both— raw tension still lingering, but also something deeper. You’d both taken a page from each other’s book tonight: your strength and resolve, his patience and calculated caution.

Morgan glanced at the three of you, breaking the moment with a grin. “Alright, bait and backup — that’s how we bring down monsters."

You rolled your eyes as you pressed the gauze to the side of your neck. "All in a day's work."

Morgan hummed.

"You need a hospital. I can drive—"

"I can do it." Reid interrupted quietly, looking at you more than he was Morgan.

You cleared your throat, nodding.

Reid’s eyes softened just a fraction as he reached out, carefully taking your hand to steady you. “Let’s get you patched up properly.”

Morgan gave you both a teasing smirk, but wisely kept his distance as Reid helped you into the SUV.

The ride was silent. The quick treatment in the hospital was silent, too. You allowed them to clean and stitch you up, flinching every few moments, before your eyes met Reid's again.

There was something different. There was no irritation or arrogance in his brown eyes like what he normally directed towards you. It was only softness. Just simply watching you, like it was a normal habit of his that he could do all day. Thick with tension. Words unsaid.

You couldn't lie. It made you blush. You looked away.

The conversation didn't ensue until the ride back to the hotel.

The engine hummed low as the SUV slipped down the dark road, headlights casting long, sweeping shadows across the pavement. Reid drove slower than usual: cautious, thoughtful. His fingers gripped the wheel with a quiet intensity, knuckles pale.

You sat beside him, your body angled slightly toward the window, but your eyes drifted, again and again, to his face. To the way his jaw tensed and relaxed like he was chewing on words. Like he couldn’t hold them in much longer.

He broke the silence.

"You did perfectly." He said quietly.

Your eyes flicked to him, surprised by the softness in his tone.

“Didn’t feel perfect,” you muttered, fingers brushing the gauze at your neck. “I let him get too close.”

“That was the point,” Reid said, glancing at you before returning his gaze to the road. “You had him completely. You waited. You didn’t react too soon. That’s what saved your life.”

You gave a small, dry laugh. “I thought I’d be the one snapping his wrist and pressing his face into the wall. Guess we traded roles.”

Reid’s mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, something more fragile. “You’ve always been better at brute force. I just never thought I’d actually need to use it.”

You leaned back in your seat, watching him. “So what changed?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just kept driving, eyes steady, lips parted slightly like the words were there, just hesitant to form.

Finally, he spoke, voice barely audible. “The second I saw him touch you, I didn’t think. I didn’t weigh the risk or the outcomes. I just… moved.”

Your throat tightened. “Why?”

He inhaled slowly. “Because if something had happened to you, if I had waited even a second longer, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself. It's hard enough to accept that you were hurt at all.”

You looked down at your lap, quiet for a beat. “I didn’t think you liked me that much.”

Reid frowned, squeezing the wheel.

"Name.. I don't dislike you." He said hoarsely. "I admire you, to be truthful. You're brave. Strong. Everything I want to be and have struggled to be my whole life," his voice was just above a whisper as he stole a glance your way.

"But I worry. All the time. I worry that something will go wrong and I'll lose another person. Another member of the team. And someone that I.." He trailed off.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest.

“Someone that you…?” you echoed gently, coaxing the rest out of him.

Reid’s jaw clenched. He exhaled shakily through his nose, like the truth physically hurt to say aloud.

“Someone that I like. Someone I care about,” he said at last, voice quiet but unwavering. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want it to. You make me insane, half the time. You drive me completely up the wall.”

You smiled faintly, despite the tension thick in the car.

“But then I watch you work. Or I hear you laugh. Or you look at me like I’m not broken, like I’m not damaged goods. And I—I can’t unfeel it.”

Silence blanketed the car once more, but this time it was full of unsaid things that didn’t need words. It buzzed with the gravity of what had finally cracked open between you.

He pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, putting the car in park. His eyes slid over to yours again.

You reached out slowly, resting your fingers gently over his. He looked down at your hand, then up into your eyes, as if trying to make sure this was real.

You gave a soft, knowing smile. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

Reid huffed a breath, almost a laugh, though his eyes were still glassy with everything he hadn’t said before tonight. “I thought you hated me.”

“I thought you were too good for me.”

His gaze flicked to your neck, then back to your eyes. “No one’s too good for you.”

"You are." You snorted. "I'm mean. Closed off. I don't listen."

Reid shook his head slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re protective,” he corrected gently. “You carry the weight for everyone else so they don’t have to. And you listen more than you think — not always to words, but to people. To their actions, their patterns. That’s why you’re good at this.”

You looked away, swallowing hard, your throat tight. “Still. You’re… kind. And soft. And patient. You make people feel safe just by being in the room. I make people flinch.”

Reid’s hand turned beneath yours, his fingers slipping between yours with quiet certainty. “I don't flinch.”

Your eyes snapped back to his, caught off guard by the quiet conviction in his voice. There was no teasing, no hesitation, no irritation in his tone — just truth. Solid and unwavering.

You stared at him for a beat, breath shallow. “No,” you whispered. “You don’t.”

Reid tilted his head slightly, his gaze dipping to your lips for just a second before returning to your eyes. “I see you. All of you. And I don’t flinch.”

The weight of his words settled in your chest like an anchor: grounding, calming, terrifying in the best way. No one had ever looked at you like this. Not with fear. Not with judgment. But with… something gentler. Something that threatened to undo every wall you’d ever built.

“You’re not scared of me,” you said quietly, like you were still trying to convince yourself.

“I’m scared for you, every time you throw yourself into harms' way,” he admitted, voice barely above a breath. “But never of you.”

There was a pause. Heavy. Electric.

And then, in the dark hush of the SUV, with the sounds of the city and the glow of the streetlights casting soft shadows across his face, you leaned in.

"Reid?"

"Call me Spencer."

You snorted softly, rolling your eyes.

"Spencer?"

His name lingered on your tongue, warm and unfamiliar in that intimate kind of way, like a secret finally spoken aloud.

He gave the faintest nod, eyes flicking down to your lips again, and this time he didn’t look away.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough around the edges, like he already knew what you were going to say but needed to hear it anyway.

Your breath caught, lips parting slightly. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

He blinked. “What?”

You tilted your head, your smile barely there. “The staring. The tension. The way you act like I’m a walking risk assessment.”

Spencer’s lips tugged up, sheepish but unrepentant. “I didn’t want to cross a line.”

“You didn’t.” Your voice softened, fingers still tangled with his. “You didn’t cross anything.”

He leaned in a little closer, enough for his breath to ghost across your cheek.

“Then can I?” he whispered.

Your heart thudded once, hard, before you nodded.

“Yes. Please.”

And then, he kissed you.

Slow. Intentional. Like he’d waited a lifetime for permission.

And you, well, for once, you didn’t think. You didn’t fight.

You just let yourself feel.

You knew your father would've liked him.

[sightseertrespasser]

"I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically" Staring at you with big HUGE eyes. I would love to hear the tangent

Alrighty then.

First things first, what is Tacnet?

Sometimes also referred to as a Battle computer, Tacnet is short for Tactical Network and its ostensibly the worlds most demented excel spreadsheet.

In more literal terms, Tacnet is a type of supercomputer.

Supercomputers are incredibly useful pieces of technology. Able to run simulations, predictive algorithms and utilizing real world statistics to essentially speculate the past, present or future. The bottleneck for a regular old supercomputer is that someone has to sit down and manually input all the information necessary for those calculations.

You want to know what kind of gun made that specific bullet hole?

Well first the supercomputer needs the ballistics data off as many kinds of guns as possible, then it needs data on the material that was shot, and it also needs as much information as possible on the bullet hole in question.

You skip out on any of that input and the odds of the supercomputer being correct gets progressively lower.

Problem is, the supercomputer can’t actually think, and therefore can’t estimate how accurate its own calculations are. A computer works in total binary. If it only has the ballistic data for three kinds of guns, it doesn’t matter how much the bullet hole doesn’t match the data sets its been provided, the supercomputer will select whichever of the three matches the hole the most closely.

A computer, no matter how advanced, is incapable of knowing when it doesn’t know something.

But people on the other hand. . .

We turn now to an ambitious young R&D developer many millennia ago.

Once upon a time, this member of Research and Development was on the team responsible for designing new Cold Constructed mechs for Sentinel Prime. And they had a GREAT idea.

“I’ve got it!” They say, unaware of the ominous music rising in the background.

“The great powers of the supercomputer cannot be realized within its current limitations! Its greatest flaws are that it must be stationary, it must be manually fed information and all calculations it does generate must be reviewed by a thinking mech!”

Their coworkers groan. It’s too early in the morning for this shit.

“Therefore!” The mech says, quickly sketching out a box full of smaller boxes that is supposed to be a computer and the miserable approximation of a mech.

“We simply remove the separation, and make the mech itself the data intake for the supercomputer!”

Lightning crashes in the distance, someone tiredly gets the fire extinguisher. Again.

It’s not a hard sales pitch for a totalitarian government to go “Yeah we want super-cops. Here’s the money, make it happen.”

And in a tale as old as capitalism, an untested feature was rolled out with catastrophic consequences.

If you’ve read my tangent on how Crashes work, then you already know about logic cascades.

Tacnet is a supercomputer. A tool. Like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it, and someone who really doesn’t know what they’re doing is liable to hurts themselves.

So what can Tacnet really do in the hands (or processor) of a master?

Some psychic-type level nonsense. Anyone who’s gotten the hang of their Tacnet, in their own fields of expertise, are able to know exactly what will happen before anyone else.

Let’s compare Smokescreen, Bluestreak and then Prowls Tacnets and how they’re used.

Every Tacnet starts the same, but can be developed and trained to excel at different things.

Smokescreen - Place Your Bets

Smokescreen has trained his to work best for gambling. “Training” can be anything from downloading tables of statistical analysis to personally observing the phenomenon and making notes.

Let’s look at rolling dice. If you rolled a six sided die, any number is equally likely to be rolled. Or 16.67 % odds for each.

So if 3 dice are rolled, then every total value outcome from 3 to 18 must be equal odds as well, right?

Nope! If three six sided dice are rolled, there is a 12.5 % (or 25% if you combine them) chance it’ll be a 10 or 11. And that’s out of sixteen possible outcomes.

So if you know the difference but your opposition doesn’t, then suddenly you have a huge advantage while betting. And this is just the most simplified example I can think of.

If you’ve got the time, statistics are absolutely wild and there’s a mathematical equation for pretty much anything.

All Smokescreen has to do to get good at a game is learn the rules and then plug in the numbers. You know how card counting will get you banned from most casinos? Well Smokescreens worked that out too. Talking to other players (collecting preexisting data points) he can find the average of how much he can win in a night before people get too pissy.

Another thing Smokescreen has going for him (especially over Prowl) is that Smokescreen is much better at reading people. He doesn’t just have statics on the games, but the players.

Mapping out the connections between individuals and taking personal motivations into account, Smokescreen at his peak can not only predict who the winners will be, but he can also predict who will loose on purpose, who will bet the most, who will cheat and who will seek to take their winnings by force.

Experience, experience, experience is the golden ticket.

Also, it’s Smokescreen himself who has to craft the profiles of his victims gambling buddies. Once fleshed out, Tacnet can do wonders mid game, giving Smokescreen room to focus on his social schemes instead.

Luckily, after the burning of Praxus, most people don’t really know what a Tacnet is truly capable of. So Smokescreen looses just often enough to keep folks from realizing that he always knows how every game will play out before they even start.

Bluestreak - Shoot Your Shot

Going in the opposite direction of utility, Bluestreaks Tacnet is all about kinetic calculations.

This fucker is doing the type of math that’s more letters than numbers. Constantly.

Air resistance, velocity, acceleration, gravity, weight, density, temperature, vector, displacement and time.

There’s equations that call for each and every one of those factors, usually in combination.

Your average sniper, even a good one, is usually considering wind speeds, the pull of gravity and the distance from the target when lining up a shot. Bluestreak is taking in all that and then working out the influences of about 15 more factors on top of that. Even before he’s picking where exactly on the target he’s going to hit. Since remember, if he’s got data on not just his own weapons but his enemies defenses, then it really becomes as simple as “would you like them disabled or dead?”

Aim is no longer a question of ability, but an equation to be solved.

Still, physical capabilities does play a part since a steady hand goes a long way towards realizing those calculations.

Tacnet may crunch the numbers, but Bluestreak is the one who has to find all the details relevant to the shot and pick which ones to feed to the machine.

Additionally, Bluestreaks Tacnet in particular has the experimental feature of massively increasing the amount of sensory data he can take in per second, effectively causing him to perceive things in slow motion. This is less something Tacnet is doing, and more a case of Bluestreaks own processor utilizing the bandwidth normally taken up by Tacnet.

Tacnet itself takes a substantial amount of power to run. Normally, it causes problems by siphoning too much power from other systems to do its job (see logic cascade crashes). But Bluestreak has the funny little quirk of somehow doing that in reverse. So when his sense of time dilation becomes maxed out, Tacnet isn’t running the formulas to help him shoot anymore, it’s just Bluestreaks own skills at that point.

Outside of that rare circumstance, Bluestreak is effectively playing with aimbot in real life.

Prowl - Know Your Fate

So we’ve established that Tacnet is powered by mathematical formulas and data collection.

What would happen if someone just, kept going? Kept feeding it? Building up more and more infrastructure for Tacnet to grow around until it has a point of reference for almost anything?

You get an oracle.

Prowl puts the Tactical back into Tacnet. He’s essentially the Jack of all Trades and Master of several of those subjects actually.

Sure, Smokescreen has him beat for behavioral analysis, and Bluestreak is leagues beyond what Prowl can calculate for trajectories. But no one has doubled down on what Tacnet can really do like Prowl has.

You know that (not actually true) statistic about how humans only use 25% of their brains? That’s your average Tacnet user.

Prowl just happens to be insane.

He is constantly taking in new data. He is constantly taking notes, making observations, stripping it down to the raw numbers involved and packing it away into monumental resource centers for Tacnet to refer to.

You ever see someone who’s really good with excel sheets and then see them do some shit you didn’t know excel sheets could even do?

It’s kinda like that.

If you’ve ever read the classic Sherlock Holmes stories, a lot of what makes Sherlock so effective is having such a detailed knowledge of the world around him.

Let’s go back to the bullet hole analysis.

Prowl could look at the bullet hole and tell you after two minutes: “It was this specific Cargo vessel at this time with an illegal weapon.”

From the outside, this looks like a baseless guess. But to Prowl it looks like this:

a) The gun must be a new imported weapon as nothing he currently has on file matches the marking its made in that kind of material.

b) The shooter not only missed their shot, but was shooting downward at an excessive angle. Indicating this was a very large mech firing downward at a much smaller target, likely a mini bot.

c) The shooter can be exactly tracked by looking at the local registry for recent out bound flights, specifically ones with no cargo.

Why? Because the shooter is most likely a transport shuttle. Easy access to imported goods, very large but not a war frame (hence the missed shot) and having failed to kill their victim, would flee town immediately without waiting to take on cargo.

Of those two minutes it took, he spent 1:30 waiting for the flight records to load so he could look up the name of the shuttle.

Scale those skills up to a war room, and Prowl not only knows why an enemy troop is retreating, but where they’re retreating to, what losses they must have taken and whether or not it’ll be worth it to finish the job.

Prowl isn’t smart because he has a Tacnet. Tacnet is OP because Prowl is that smart.

When I write his perspective, Prowl often has an accuracy percentage attached to his calculations. Tacnet isn’t the thing making those estimates. Prowl is the one judging how accurate Tacnets suggestions are.

Dudes just a freak.

—————————

In summary, Tacnet is like if you had every kind of calculator in your pocket and the only limit was how many equations you’ve added on and the amount of information you can feed it.

That last bit is the biggest challenge for Tacnet, as conflicting or flawed data can cause. . . Issues. Aka Logic Cascades. Aka “Why can’t I make it make sense.” Disease.

Let’s just say there’s a reason not many people know what Tacnet is capable of, as a lot of early Praxian Enforcers could be taken out by confusing emotions, plot holes, and particularly well executed magic tricks.

Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence when your new shiny police force can be hospitalized by watching Back to the Future 2.

Being one of the first Cold Constructs built with a Tacnet, Smokescreen figured out how to mostly get around that glitch early on and taught Prowl and Bluestreak how to do the same. In this particular setting, Tacnet is poorly understood and best kept mostly secret for those reasons.

(Bizarrely, between Tacnet and the radar uses of doorwings, Prowl and his brothers would actually be really good at predicting the weather.)

———————————————————————

Bonus bit: Good fucking lord it would absolutely terrifying if you could somehow combine Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreaks skills into like a Tacnet hivemind or something.

Though with wing speak, to an outsider that’s probably what it already looks like.

———

The three brothers look at the same bullet hole, silently communicating in a way the local non-Praxian officer couldn’t pick up on.

“Oh yeah, looks like Rotor didn’t like Brick cutting into his half of the dirty money. Slippery little guy but you can find both their hideouts here and here.” Smokescreen, the eldest, pulls up a map for reference.

Prowl is already out the door, Bluestreak is lining up a shot through the window.

“What is he. . ?” The other officer looks from Bluestreak. Then to Prowl, trailing off, “Where is the other one. . ?”

“Oh Prowls off to arrest the shooter.”

“But he’s a grounder, can’t Rotor fly?”

A shot rings out.

“Not anymore!”

[gallusrostromegalus]

Speaking of public health. What was the soul society reaction to the eradication of small pox like?

"You notice there's a lot less dead babies these days?" Iba asked in the middle of one morning's office work.

"Fewer dead babies." Komamura corrected without thinking. "Less is for things you measure by volume, fewer for things you count. We do not measure dead babies by volume."

"Oh. right." Iba nodded. "Yeah, that wouldn't be right."

After a moment, what his lieutenant actually said caught up with him. "Sorry- force of habit from living with a Librarian." Komamura shook his head and looked up from the monthly intake statistics analysis report, peering at Tetsuzaemon Iba through the narrow gap of his helmet. "What do you mean, fewer dead babies?"

"I dunno, it just occurred to me. When I started the academy in the 40's- right after the catastrophe- we did a student tour of the 7th division's recently deceased souls intake queue, remember?" Iba waved his hand leaning back in his chair, apparently uncertain of where he was going with this either, but articulating his thoughts.

"I believe so. I had just taken over from Captain Kotsubaki." Komamura nodded, patient. Chikane Iba was an excellent shinigami and had done a magnificent job running the third division, but she had a tendency to talk over and bulldoze her son, so Komamura had learned to be patient when the young man when he felt like he should share a thought.

"Yeah, yeah- Not gonna lie Boss, you scared the crap out of me back then." Tetsuzaemon laughed. "-But the thing that stuck out to me that day was just. The sheer number of Infants and little kids in the line. the guy giving us the tour- I think it was Old Ito, actually- He said that one in five babies in the living world didn't live to see their fifth birthday."

"An improvement even back then- it was one in three children when back when I started in the 1840s." Komamura nodded. "It's funny that I frightened you- Captain Aikawa apparently headhunted me for the 7th because Kaname told him about how the children at the library used to use me as playground equipment."

"Good grief." Iba blanched. "So, what, he threw you in the deep end with all the dead kids?"

"In Captain Aikawa's defense, I did volunteer to handle children's cases. As sad as a frightened infant is, it's infinitely preferable than dealing with the deceased who are angry."

Iba frowned, opened his mouth like he was about to object, reconsidered, closed it, considered further, rocking his head from side to side, and then nodded. "I- yeah, Yeah, that tracks."

"You were saying though?" Komamura laced his fingers in front of him, leaning forward to listen.

"Oh! Well- not as much these days but back then, every family had like seven and eight kids, you know? And I realized that, well- almost everyone I know has a dead sibling or two? Almost every mother lost a child- Gods know my mother's a basket case but even getting a cold could send her into fits. If something had happened to me when I was a tyke- I don't think she would have pulled through."

Komamura nodded enough for Iba to see his helmet tilt to indicate he as still listening.

"I- I don't actually know where I was going with this, but I was reading that report earlier and there's a note from Shita-san at the end that this is the first month we haven't had a kid under the age of five in the intake queue. Ever."

Komamura flipped though the pages of the report to read the hand-written note at the end. "That is excellent news!"

"Oh! Yeah! It's great!" Iba nodded enthusiastically. "It just- I don't know, I guess it just snuck up on me and I'm so used to hearing something went wrong I guess I don't quite know what to do with good news?" he shrugged.

Komamura pondered this for a moment. "Hm. Well. Take heart, to start. But I see what you mean- it's a tremendous achievement, but not one we contributed to, and a "No Dead Babies This Month" office party feels in poor taste at best."

"Oof, yeah- especially if next month there's an accident or something and there's a whole bunch in the queue." Iba nodded. He considered things for a moment.

"-What happened that there are le- fewer dead babies, actually?" Iba frowned. "-Whoever it is, it would be appropriate to toast them and make an offering in their name to the Gods of Good Fortune, I think. Also do more of whatever they did."

"That IS a good idea!" Komamura smiled under his helmet. Perhaps it was his training as a priest, but he did enjoy an offering of goodwill ceremony. Also, nobody would ask him to drink- just pour any alcohol he was offered on the statue of the relevant deity. "I think- It's probably in our statistics, if the tenth division doesn't have an idea already. Can you collect the cause of death data for young children for the last-"

He was interrupted by the thunderous footsteps of someone sprinting towards the office, immediately followed by a tall young woman with short white hair throwing the door open, red-faced and winded.

"THEY DID IT! THE MAD BASTARDS THEY DID IT!" She shouted with wild excitement.

"Isane-? Uh, Miss Kotetsu?" Iba flustered.

"Please keep your voice down-" Komamura said through gritted teeth, trying not to growl at being suddenly shouted at. "Who has-?"

He was interrupted by Miss Kotetsu bolting right up to his desk and shoving a newspaper into his face hard enough to actually wrap around his helmet in excitement.

"SMALLPOX! IT'S GONE!!" She shrieked with joy.

"-gone?" Iba asked, bewildered as Komamura gently took the newspaper from her and pulled it back to actually read it. It was a newspaper from the living world, dated that morning- someone had gone through some pains to get it back to the Seireitei at speed, but the news was worth it:

SMALLPOX IS DEAD!

"TOTALLY ERADICATED! EXTINCT! KAPUT! IT HAS CEASED TO BE!" She bounced excitedly. "IT IS AN EX-PANDEMIC!"

"So like. Nobody has it this year?" Iba tried.

"Nobody has it this year, or will ever have it again, if I'm reading this right." Komamura muttered in awe. "Thanks to an aggressive worldwide vaccination and disease protocol program, there have been no human cases of the disease for several years. Since there are no people infected, there is no way for the disease to come back..."

Both men stared into space, the news almost unbelievable.

"Well. That does explain the Less Dead Babies thing." Iba nodded.

"Fewer Dead Babies." Komamura and Isane corrected in unison.

"I mean yeah that sure is part of it because Smallpox was the number one killer of infants in the living world for a long time there, but there's a whole bunch of stuff that's really cut down on infant mortality in the last few decades in particular." Isane nodded.

"We were JUST Talking about that!" Iba said, excitedly. "-Good to know you guys in the fourth are keeping track of that, It was gonna take forever to pull out that data..."

"Oh, could you pull it out anyway Tetsu-kun?" She asked. "-That's most of why I came over- I mean, to share the good news first, but Unohana-Taicho is planning on using this to really push a widespread vaccination program in the Rukongai and having the numbers to back us up would be really helpful!"

"Oh! Uh, sure!" Iba blushed.

"...You know this young lady, Tetsu-Kun?" Komamura lightly teased.

Both of the young people twitched and bowed to him, pointing at each other and speaking at once.

"Oh! I'm sorry Sir, I'm fourth division third seat Isane Kotetsu, i just know Iba because we were in the same class at the academy-" She babbled.

"-this is Isane Kotetsu, she's the smartest person I know and she saved my life from a lizard one time!" He waved excitedly.

"...That lizard was not going to kill you." She sighed, covering her face in embarrassment. "-I mean, if you developed a sepsis infection from the contaminated wound it might have made you very ill but that would take weeks and we have antibiotics for that, the lizard itself wasn't all that dangerous."

"It was INSIDE my LEG!" Iba gestured to his right thigh.

Komamura slowly tilted his whole torso sideways at Iba, hoping that sentence might make more sense at a forty-five degree angle. "...How?"

"I. Uh." Iba stopped, realizing his story was maybe not one he should be telling his boss. "I was. um. Out camping with the lads back when I was in the 11th, and a lizard climbed into my cot and I was. not totally awake and thought someone was trying to cop a feel and well you know, that's behavior you respond to with force so I rolled over and tried to stab the intruder's hand and. Uh. Missed."

Komamura continued to stare at him blankly.

"There was. screaming. lotta flailing, blood, general mayhem sort of thing. And in the confusion the Lizard.... climbed. inside the hole. In my leg. Sir." Iba explained, slowly crumpling behind his desk.

Komamura sighed deeply.

"-but Miss Isane was right there and actually kicked Ikkaku halfway across the camp because he was trying to lure it out with a Banana and generally being useless and she just grabbed that sucker and ripped him right outta there and had the wound packed and sealed in less than a minute and I even got to finish doing boot camp!" He rallied, cheerfully waving at Isane in hopes of distracting his captain with how cool she was.

"...What happened to the lizard?" Komamura asked, warily eyeing her through the gap in his helmet.

"Oh! He was really, really human acclimated and sneaked into my medkit rather than go back into the wild, so Harry lives a very spoiled lizard life in a terrarium in my room at home! Though it's actually my sister's room now but he still gets all the mango and smashed beetles he can eat!" Isane nodded cheerfully.

"You named a lizard. Harry?" Komamura asked slowly.

"...Iba-san named him, actually." She blushed.

"Ironically!" Iba protested. "I'm only mostly stupid, sir."

Komamura sighed deeply and once again regretted that his disguise would not let him rub his face as needed. "Alright. Thank you for the announcement, Miss Kotetsu. We will get that data to you in a timely manner- was there anything else you needed"

"Oh gosh, there was something else, what was it-?" She tapped her chin, trying to remember.

There was the distant sound of explosives, and all three of them turned to see what looked like midday fireworks going off at the 4th.

"Oh Right! Unohana-taicho requests your presence at the 4th as. Um. 'Designated Non-Drinker and Unarmed Combat Specialist' because the party was getting kind of wild when I left actually-"

Komamura sighed, and picked up Tenken from his stand and started tying the zanpaktou to his belt anyway.

---

The following morning, a small party arrived at the local shrines to The Gods Of Good Fortune, bearing offerings on behalf of the living world's World Health Organization and the handful of names they'd been able to glean from the living world newspapers, and nursing varying degrees of of hangover.

Komamura lead the party, having gotten them up at a slightly malicious 5AM to be there first thing in the morning. Tetsuzaemon and his friends from the 11th he insisted come along and 'suffer with me, as my sworn brothers' were quite pained but doing their best to hold it together.

Shunsui was a veteran of this nonsense and was hiding the pain very well behind his longtime party companions, Ukitake and Unohana, who seemed so extraordinarily cheerful that Komamura had to conclude that they were both still significantly chemically altered. He couldn't fault Unohana- they were faint and only visible on the rare occasions she let her hair down, but just below her left ear there was still the faint divot scars from surviving her own infection.

Isane had celebrated just as hard as the 11th Division lads, but had also had the good sense to alternate beer and water and take both aspirin and some sort of horrible pink goop that apparently relieved nausea before passing out under a table and had woken up only slightly groggy.

Komamura's new friend Harry the Lizard- a remarkably loquacious and quick-witted reptile -had taken up residence inside his helmet, lightly intoxicated on the cocktail fruits people had kept feeding him, and was politely nestled in the thick fur of his neck to ward off the morning cold.

The rituals of gratitude for this miracle, and asking the Gods to bless those who had worked so hard went smoothly, and Komamura couldn't help but notice when he turned around that Miss Kotetsu had opted to lean on the shoulder of 'Tetsu-kun'.

It was not often Komamura started the day with the feeling that everything would turn out alright, but as he watched Tetsuzaemon cautiously but gracelessly take Isane's hand and her squeeze it back on the way back down from the shrine, he felt like the feeling might stay this time.

[myalgicencephalomyelitiscfstom]

Summary that was posted on social media:

1) Here it is, our overview of the most interesting ME/CFS studies of 2024. If you think we’re missing an important one, feel free to post it as a comment below

https://mecfsskeptic.com/2024-looking-back-on-a-year-of-me-cfs-research

2) A recent preprint used data from the UK Biobank and showed that there are many differences in the blood between ME/CFS patients and controls. Their analysis suggests that these differences are not due to inactivity or deconditioning.

3) The Intramural NIH study did the most extensive set of biological measurements ever conducted in ME/CFS patients but because of the low sample size (n = 17) and focus on ‘effort preference’ it has mostly led to disappointment.

4) The MCAM study recruited patients from 7 ME/CFS specialty clinics and assessed cognitive functioning in more than 200 patients. Accuracy was relatively normal but information processing speed was significantly lower in patients versus controls.

5) This year, the largest study on repeated cardiopulmonary exercise testing in ME/CFS was published. Although there were small to moderate effects, there was a large overlap between patients and controls. It is unclear if this procedure can be used as a diagnostic test.

6) 2024 also saw two big rehabilitation trials for children with ME/CFS: MAGENTA and FITNET-NHS. Both had null results suggesting that GET and online CBT (FITNET) are unlikely to be cost-effective.

7) We also had a new prevalence estimate using statistics data for NHS Hospitals in England. Extrapolating the highest rates to the entire UK would mean that 390.000 people (0.585%) get ME/CFS in their lifetime.

A Norwegian study showed how wages dropped dramatically and sickness benefits increased before and after an ME/CFS diagnosis.

9) Honourable mention: following the tragic death of Maeve Boothby O’Neill, Prof. Emeritus Jonathan Edwards wrote a paper on managing nutritional failure in people with severe ME/CFS, including suggestions that can supplement the NICE Guideline.

====== comment: Another excellent blog from this account. Note that the social media summary only highlights a few of the many studies that are discussed in the post. Saying that, I didn’t find it overly long either. Highly recommended.

[sophieinwonderland]

I'm the one that sent in "tram-29 is proof you can't get MAGA voters to open their eyes. Pretty much everything they said has been proven false."

Sorry for not specifying context; I don't really post much, so I assumed tumblr sent you notifications when receiving comments. tram29 is someone who commented on your "MAGA voter sends message to Trump in CNN..." post / answer to another anon.

Sorry, I missed it! I probably got the notification, but I get a lot of those and might not check them all. Let me just go back and... Ah! There he is!

Maybe I should just respond to it here!

@tram29-blog

Wow!

There is a lot of propaganda being fired off here! To start, the hurricane response was actually excellent. Biden's response was even praised by multiple Republican governors.

If you want to see disastrous responses, look at the government's responses to Hurricane Katrina. Or look at how some American Citizens in Puerto Rico were without power for a year under the Trump administration while Trump did photo ops throwing paper towels to survivors.

And voting for someone promising to put taxes on imported goods to fix inflation is a real big brain move. /s

But I really have to laugh at your use of "empathy."

Let's see who you "empathize with."

Empathy for people "affected by immigration," not people disappeared and locked in concentration camps

How people are "affected by" immigration isn't exactly spelled out in this comment. Does it mean people who claim, usually without actual evidence, to have lost jobs because of immigration? Racists claiming their pets were eaten only for those pets to show up alive and well a week later? Maybe it means the few victims of crimes committed by people who happened to be immigrants?

If it's the latter, I will remind people that immigrants commit less crime than natural born citizens. Here is an archive link of a .gov web page citing the real statistics collected by Texas before the Trump administration purged it.

Fewer crimes were committed by documented immigrants than citizens, and far fewer crimes still by undocumented immigrants.

The myth of immigrants committing violent crime is just that. A myth.

Yes, any group will inevitably have some violent members, but immigrants are statistically less violent than American citizens.

And fun fact, more murders are committed in red states than blue states. If we wanted to single out an entire group to blame for violent crime in America, maybe we should talk less about "migrant crime," which is statistically insignificant, and instead talk about the Male Conservative Citizen crime, because that seems like the demographic most likely to kill you. 🤷‍♀️

But what do I know? I'm just a tulpa who happens to enjoy statistics...

Yes, it's horrible when anyone is harmed in violent attacks. But hating all immigrants for what a minority of them do, when immigrants as a whole are less likely to commit crimes, is pure xenophobia and racism.

And while you claim to empathize with people "affected by immigration," where is your empathy for those being detained? Where is your empathy for those shipped out of the country and deprived of human rights?

Despite the blackout, scholars, international and national rights’ groups and investigative journalists have been able to build up a picture of conditions inside El Salvador’s prisons through interviews with victims and their family members, medical records and forensic analysis of cases of prison deaths. What they describe is a hellscape. Incarcerated Salvadorans are packed into grossly overcrowded cells, beaten regularly by prison personnel and denied medicines even when they are available. Inmates are frequently subjected to punishments including food deprivation and electric shocks. Indeed, a U.S. State Department’s 2023 country report on El Salvador noted the “harsh and life-threatening prison conditions.” The human rights organization Cristosal estimates that hundreds have died from malnutrition, blunt force trauma, strangulation and lack of lifesaving medical treatment. Often, their bodies are buried by government workers in mass graves without notifying families.

What kind of monster would support us sending people here? People whose only crimes was seeking a better life in our country?

Reminder that one of the people sent to this prison was sent because of an autism awareness tattoo that ICE claimed was a gang tattoo.

Do you care about him? Do you care about his abduction?

"Empathy" for "victims" of cancel culture

Nine times out of ten, the reason people are "cancelled" is because of legitimately racist, sexist, or queerphobic things they've said. More importantly though, the impact usually doesn't go far beyond people just... complaining about them online.

Is your so-called empathy exclusively for racists who make some people angry by being racists? Or misogynists for dehumanizing women?

Meanwhile, Trump is calling criticism of him illegal! Elon Musk is threatening to sue people who call him a Nazi! And both Fuhrer Musk and First Buffoon Trump have been purging federal employees for supporting diversity, eliminating workers for their political opinions of supporting marginalized communities.

Trump is also abusing his power and attacking the first amendment-protected free speech of students by threatening the funding of colleges where students are protesting!

This is a blatant attack on the First Amendment, weaponizing federal funds to strip students of their rights.

And Republicans don't care.

This is what they want. Further down in the comment, Tram29 says this...

And this is something they're right about!

They want immigrants locked in Hellish conditions without trial.

They want freedom of speech stripped away from those who don't agree with them.

Double standards and hypocrisy are not bugs. They're features.

Republican "Empathy" Is a Farce

Republicans only care about people look like them. People who think like them. Who worship the same God they do. Who are just as vile and hateful to other as they are.

Democrats will support the free speech of everyone. Democrats will provide disaster relief for everyone. Democrats will protect the rights of everyone in the country.

No Democrat president is going to threaten federal funding to colleges that allow conservative protests.

Circling back to the topic at the beginning about disaster aid, when Florida was hit by a hurricane, Joe Biden was there sending help immediately. No conditions. No stipulations. No attacks on the local government.

He just helped. Just like other Presidents have always done.

When asked about providing aid to California for helping with its wildfires, Trump said he would withhold funding unless California implemented voter ID laws.

Democrats would never do this.

They would never condition disaster relief based on implementing a liberal policy. They wouldn't let American citizens burn because of the way they voted.

To even suggest this is an act that is nothing short of pure evil.

But that's what the Republican party has become. A party of monsters that live to take gleeful joy in harming others.

If you stand by all of the policies I've laid out... if you support stripping your political opponents of free speech, if you support sending innocent people to nightmarish concentration camps, if you think it's okay to condition disaster relief to fellow Americans on them capitulating to your demands... don't you dare pretend to have the slightest shred of empathy or compassion!

[blondephil]

dnp movie analysis p2: genres, studios, franchises

thanks everyone for enabling me <3 i'm back with some more analysis by genre, franchise, and studio!

genre ratings

first, genre ratings (genre is kinda arbitrary here, tbh; there's a lot of overlap!)

here we have the first table (please tumblr don't mess with the quality) (i can post the excel sheets if needed; r tables were being a pita)

here we have the number, mean (= median for all of this analysis), minimum, and maximum ratings by genre. within each statistic, i've highlighted the minimum (light) and maximum (dark) for dan (blue) and phil for genres with >1 movie (just realized i fucked up western, ignore that lmao)

phil has watched the most horror (64) and dan mostly sci-fi (53). interestingly, but presumably because of their love for these genres, each of their minimum scores went to these genres. if you watch a lot of one type of movie, you're gonna find the duds.

both of them liked christmas movies (tbh this was like, home alone, so), with their highest minimum and mean ratings being for that category (nostalgia, i assume because like, same). lowest mean scores were for superhero movies (both) and mystery (phil). for both of them, marvel was pretty all over the place (we'll get into that in a sec), so that's not super surprising.

their highest minimum scores were both given to war movies, which is a little surprising but this include movies like 1917 and dunkirk which are ~critically acclaimed~, so makes some sense. their minimum max scores went to westerns and mysteries for dan, and musicals, mysteries, and biopics for phil.

here are the histograms/bar charts for genres. these aren't the prettiest tbh, and i excluded some that had only one or two movies / weren't very interesting. without delving deep into the data, you can see how their preferences play out especially in horror and sci-fi, where phil has more highly-rated horror movies (partly because he's rated more) and dan has a lot of highly-rated sci-fi (but also low ratings). you also see how superhero movies are pretty middling -- there's almost a normal distribution! (not really, but sort of!). romance too. there's in general a lot of left skew here -- they like to rate movies highly.

final genre analysis is number of movies in one genre rated by one and not the other. i'm so sorry this table is so long.

i highlighted here the top three genres one has watched without the other. again we see phil likes his horror (and as i said in my last post, a fair amount of these movies were watched when dan was on tour, and this doesn't even include the guillermo del toro's cabinet of curiosities episodes he rated), but also thrillers (similar!) and comedies (which i get; i love to put a comedy on in the background). unsuprisingly, dan's watched a lot of sci-fi without phil, but also horror and comedy. in general, though, his genres are more distributed.

next, studios/franchises!

again, i've highlighted the maximum and minimum in each column, only for franchises. both of them really like ghibli, and dan likes disney more than phil (though i think this is missing big hero 6 now that i'm looking at it again, because dan rated that lower). that's theatre kid behavior: the 4.5 was beauty and the beast, all pixar and aladdin and so on were highly rated.

i fucked up the matrix somehow so just ignore that -- they both gave matrix sequels low scores

turning to franchises, phil is a harry potter hater (valid at this point). but loves lord of the rings. so does dan, though his dan's ratings actually skew pretty high for franchises in general (see: his maximum scores for each franchise are 4.5 or 5); he can pretend to be alternative or whatever but he's still a millennial at heart. their minimums minimums are both for star wars (sequels!) and marvel, which, valid. phil's highest minimum is bond (there were only a couple rated) and dan's is the hunger games, but unlike phil he only rated thg and catching fire, not either mockingjay.

and bar charts!

i only picked the most interesting ones here as well. marvel follows a similar distribution to the superhero movies, which, since they each only rated a couple dc movies (and i didn't include nolan's batmans), makes sense. again they both rate lotr highly, but the hobbit was low. the studio ones are less interesting imo because they skew so far left, but again: dan is such a disney kid.

that's all i have! i love this because dan, for all his faux cynicism, just rates movies so highly + it's so often the movies that don't fit his curated doomer persona but moreso the pooh one. and also phil expressing opinions! phil just watching a lot of horror!! i love it.

[ghnosis]

48/115 interviews coded!

I realized I never explained what coding means! dry academic stuff under the cut:

per Kathy Charmaz, "coding means categorizing segments of data with a short name that simultaneously summarizes and accounts for each piece of data. your codes show how you select, separate, and sort data to begin an analytic accounting of them." so what I do is I take the transcript of the interview and I read it line by line, and then I create some short little codes to help me describe what is going on in the data. this is called initial coding.

in practice, it looks like this:

I'm doing this by hand in Excel bc the software I *should* be using (NVivo) costs $475/year LMFAOOO

some of these codes, like TikTok or Year Zero or genderqueer, are used so I can quickly give statistics. this is how I know most of my interviewees are nonbinary/genderqueer/genderfluid/etc.

codes also show me emerging trends in data. for example, a lot of you used the word "flamboyant" or "theatrical" when I asked you if Ghost felt queer to you. a looooot of you talked about religious trauma, which I hadn't expected!

codes also help me understand you better, and explain you to academics. some codes are called in vivo codes (that's where NVivo gets its name), which are codes for things like your own personal definitions of things (like 'edgy' or 'queer' or 'goofy'), ghoul or Papa nicknames (insider knowledge/shorthands), or words like "shipping" that come from wider fandom.

once I get through the first round of coding, I'll take a break from the data for a while and go back to literature. this will be focused - some of you are linking the figure of Satan with queerness, for example, so I'll find some literary analysis that does the same thing (Per Faxneld's 2011 text Satanic Feminism is invaluable for this). I'll also be reading more about methodology, to make sure that I'm not just operating on hunches and cherry-picking data. I've been doing a lot of reading on feminist standpoint theory and queer theory as its own methodology, for example.

my plan, and we'll see how this pans out, is to write my methodology chapter and my literature review/introduction chapter after my first pass of coding, then go back to the data/transcripts with fresh eyes for coding round 2. this gets called "focused coding" sometimes. they follow trends I found in the data. again per Charmaz, "Focused coding checks your preconceptions about the topic." coding round 2 is when I'll probably bite the bullet and get NVivo, because I'll need software that lets me look across data better than Excel does. but! focused coding will be a problem for another day, lol.

[sonadukane]

How to Become a Data Scientist in 2025 (Roadmap for Absolute Beginners)

Want to become a data scientist in 2025 but don’t know where to start? You’re not alone. With job roles, tech stacks, and buzzwords changing rapidly, it’s easy to feel lost.

But here’s the good news: you don’t need a PhD or years of coding experience to get started. You just need the right roadmap.

Let’s break down the beginner-friendly path to becoming a data scientist in 2025.

✈️ Step 1: Get Comfortable with Python

Python is the most beginner-friendly programming language in data science.

What to learn:

Variables, loops, functions

Libraries like NumPy, Pandas, and Matplotlib

Why: It’s the backbone of everything you’ll do in data analysis and machine learning.

🔢 Step 2: Learn Basic Math & Stats

You don’t need to be a math genius. But you do need to understand:

Descriptive statistics

Probability

Linear algebra basics

Hypothesis testing

These concepts help you interpret data and build reliable models.

📊 Step 3: Master Data Handling

You’ll spend 70% of your time cleaning and preparing data.

Skills to focus on:

Working with CSV/Excel files

Cleaning missing data

Data transformation with Pandas

Visualizing data with Seaborn/Matplotlib

This is the “real work” most data scientists do daily.

🧬 Step 4: Learn Machine Learning (ML)

Once you’re solid with data handling, dive into ML.

Start with:

Supervised learning (Linear Regression, Decision Trees, KNN)

Unsupervised learning (Clustering)

Model evaluation metrics (accuracy, recall, precision)

Toolkits: Scikit-learn, XGBoost

🚀 Step 5: Work on Real Projects

Projects are what make your resume pop.

Try solving:

Customer churn

Sales forecasting

Sentiment analysis

Fraud detection

Pro tip: Document everything on GitHub and write blogs about your process.

✏️ Step 6: Learn SQL and Databases

Data lives in databases. Knowing how to query it with SQL is a must-have skill.

Focus on:

SELECT, JOIN, GROUP BY

Creating and updating tables

Writing nested queries

🌍 Step 7: Understand the Business Side

Data science isn’t just tech. You need to translate insights into decisions.

Learn to:

Tell stories with data (data storytelling)

Build dashboards with tools like Power BI or Tableau

Align your analysis with business goals

🎥 Want a Structured Way to Learn All This?

Instead of guessing what to learn next, check out Intellipaat’s full Data Science course on YouTube. It covers Python, ML, real projects, and everything you need to build job-ready skills.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rxNDw68XcE4

🔄 Final Thoughts

Becoming a data scientist in 2025 is 100% possible — even for beginners. All you need is consistency, a good learning path, and a little curiosity.

Start simple. Build as you go. And let your projects speak louder than your resume.

Drop a comment if you’re starting your journey. And don’t forget to check out the free Intellipaat course to speed up your progress!

[mjonthetrack]

Field Notes Characters

Selah Nyree Ellis age: 35

Hometown:

Born and raised in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, in a vibrant, tight-knit Black neighborhood that shaped both her resilience and her rhythm. Her block always had something playing—jazz, soul, hip hop, gospel. Music was the heartbeat of her childhood.

Family Life: Selah was raised by her mother and grandmother—both sharp, soulful women with little tolerance for nonsense and big hearts that held everyone together. Her father wasn’t around much, and his absence hurt—but it also pushed Selah to make sure she became someone who never disappeared when people needed her.

Her grandmother was a jazz singer back in the day, which is where Selah’s love of music and vinyl started. They had crates of records that became her escape and education. Her mom was a school teacher who always told her that knowledge was power, and Selah took that to heart.

Education & Career Path:

Brilliant from a young age, Selah excelled in science and had a thing for puzzles and details. She earned a full scholarship to Howard University, where she majored in forensic chemistry. From there, she completed a dual master’s in criminalistics and crime scene investigation, with a minor focus in behavioral psychology—just enough to keep her dangerous at a profiling table.

She spent her early years in field forensics with local and state law enforcement, quickly gaining a reputation for both technical precision and unorthodox style. Her workspace was always lined with old comic covers, a portable record player, and color-coded case files.

Eventually, she was handpicked by the Bureau for a special forensics task force—helping in high-profile federal cases that required a sharper edge. Her name passed through a few hands before landing in the BAU’s orbit, specifically through Morgan, who saw potential in her cool-headed precision and people-first instincts.

Personality in the Field: Selah doesn’t get flustered easily. She has a warm way of connecting with victims and survivors, and she can go toe-to-toe with the worst of humanity without losing herself. She cracks jokes under pressure, often making offhanded comic references when tension gets thick.

She’s a natural observer, often catching what others miss—not always because of the science, but because she listens.

Early Trauma (Brief Overview)

Selah doesn’t wear her trauma on her sleeve, but it shaped her. When she was 13, her older brother—her best friend and protector—was killed in a shooting mistaken for gang violence. He was just walking home from work. The system failed her family, and the case went cold, dismissed as another statistic. It sparked her obsession with truth and justice, especially for victims the system tries to forget. She rarely talks about it, but it’s the quiet fire behind her work.

Past Relationship Dynamics (Brief Overview)

Selah has had one serious relationship—a fellow forensic investigator. It ended because he was emotionally withdrawn and intimidated by her success and her presence. He wanted her to shrink to make space for him, and she refused. She’s since learned how to armor her heart with humor and wit, but she’s not jaded. She still believes in love. She just doesn’t chase it.

Derek Morgan

Position: Supervisory Special Agent, Behavioral Analysis Unit

Age: 40

Background: Former Chicago PD Bomb Squad, expert in obsessional crimes, childhood trauma survivor, fiercely loyal, fiercely protective. Known for his confidence, charm, and deep emotional intelligence masked behind a playful, flirtatious exterior.

Vibe in Story:

Morgan is at a turning point—he’s seen too much and carries more emotional weight than he lets on. Selah gets under his skin, not because she tries to, but because she doesn’t. She’s unbothered by the posturing and charm—she teases him back, throws him off. There’s something about her energy that breaks through his internal walls. Their connection builds slowly but with fire, full of playful banter, mutual respect, and undercurrents of real vulnerability. He becomes her safe place—and she, his reminder that there’s still joy to be had in the dark world they live in.

Marcus Reed

34

Private security consultant

Selah’s most serious relationship before joining the BAU. He was smart, reserved, and driven—but emotionally unavailable. Their relationship was built on shared intellect and ambition, but Selah needed more. His inability to express vulnerability or support her when she was grieving (likely around her brother’s unsolved death) fractured the bond. Their breakup was quiet, unceremonious—more like a slow emotional drift—but it left an invisible scar on Selah.

[hearthandhallows]

- - - penelope 'pen' sawyer, a roleplay blog for cardinalhq

Walking through the picturesque streets of Cardinal Hill, you find ( Penelope Sawyer, the 38 year old stay at home mom originally from Cardinal Hill. Living alongside them in such a small town, you know that they're responsible and insecure, but what you might not know is that they are a witch , and that they’re hiding something… ― emilia clarke, demisexual, cis woman, and she/her.

musings navigation

✿ Description

Age: 38. Gender: Cisgender female (she/her). Race: Human, witch. Skin Color: White. Hair Color: Brown, light highlights. Eye Color: Blue. Height: 5’ 2".

✿ Personality

Likes: Classical music, fitness, planners & stationary, early mornings. Dislikes: Feeling undervalued, mess & clutter, lack of accountability, feeling that others are wasting her time. Strengths: Responsible, strong-willed, resilient, hardworking. Weaknesses: Insecure, judgemental, argumentative, has trouble asking others for help, struggles to be vulnerable.

✿ Trivia

❀ She lives by her planner and loves making to-do lists. Nothing satisfies her more than crossing something off. ❀ Her purse (or diaper bag now) is basically a survival kit. Need a band-aid? A phone charger? A granola bar? She’s got you. ❀ Pen thrives in the early hours of the morning. She’s the type to wake up before sunrise, get a workout in, and have breakfast made before most people even open their eyes. ❀ She takes her coffee black and has little patience for sugary, fancy drinks. She does judge people who order frappuccinos. ❀ Since becoming a mother, she’s started unconsciously "mom-ing" her friends. Reminding them to wear a jacket, drink water, or text when they get home safely.

✿ Biography

Penelope, or Pen, by her closest friends, Sawyer, has always been the one to get things right. The eldest of three siblings, she set the bar high from an early age, excelling in school, sports, and anything else she set her mind to. Ambitious, intelligent, and fiercely determined, she carved out a reputation for herself as the responsible one, the dependable one, the one who had it all together.

With excellence, however, came expectations, and with expectations came resentment. To her siblings, Pen often came across as a know-it-all - someone who always had to have the last word, who always had to be right. She never intentionally set out to make them feel bad. She wanted them to see the world the way she did, and avoid mistakes before they made them, or to push themselves the way she pushed herself. But instead of gratitude, she was met with distance, because she didn’t quite know how to get her point across, and oftentimes came off as overbearing, rude, or judgemental. Over time, the friction between them became something she didn't quite know how to fix.

While her sister went off doing who knows what, and her brother fucked with the opportunities she gave him, Pen firmly planted herself in her work. Being an actuary was not what she imagined doing with her life, but she enjoyed statistics and analysis. At her workplace, she met Luigi, and for the first time in her life, she felt a sense of peace, understanding, and unconditional love.

It wouldn’t last. After finding out she was pregnant, she decided to leave her job. Being a mother had been one of her biggest dreams, and while she grew closer to her unborn child, she could feel Luigi slip away. The harder she held onto him, the more he pulled away, until she was alone, 38 weeks pregnant, and signing divorce papers. Luigi moved away, and her pride didn’t allow herself to tell anyone what happened. He was on a business trip, not messing around with some other girls, leaving Pen to face the world alone.

Becoming a mom has changed everything. It’s challenging - but rewarding. She loves it; the fierce, all-consuming devotion she feels for her child, but navigating the new chapter in her life was something she never expected. She always assumed she’d have a partner by her side, someone to share in the sleepless nights and the small, breathtaking moments. Instead, she finds herself learning as she goes, making mistakes, doubting herself in ways she never used to. For the first time in her life, Pen doesn’t have all the answers, and she doesn't know what to do.

[airlock]

mathematically determining the best cooks in Fire Emblem Engage

I need to keep my hands busy to focus in class, and the way I usually accomplish this is by punishing them with some inane statistic exercise. in my most recent one, I calculated the odds of the meal outcomes from every FE17 character, and then took a stab at ranking them accordingly

these are, do duly note, not objective rankings per se; some subjective judgement goes into deciding what kinds of chance spreads are better than others -- plus, while these are ordered within the tiers, many characters do tie against each other numerically, meaning I can only tiebreak between them by basing myself on textual information

in any case, below the cut I'll provide a more in-depth analysis of each blorbo's cooking proficiency, as well as a short explanation of how the cooking roll works

so, what's cooking, good-looking?

I'm citing information from Serenes Forest, which in turn has pulled mostly from the official Fire Emblem Engage guidebook.

the basic odds on a given cooking session are thusly:

55% chance of one of the character's personal Meal Titles

35% chance of a D-rank meal

10% chance of a E, F or G-rank meal

each character has 3 personal Meal Titles assigned to them -- you know, those prefixes that run the gamut of "Firene-Style", "Spicy", "Your Favorite", etc. each of those titles is also affixed to a specific rank of meal, which can potentially vary from as high as SS to as low as G (although none of them are D-rank).

effectively, this means that the meal titles available to a character determine if and how often they'll ever soar high with their cooking. thusly, the quality of the characters' meal titles determines where the chances fall for them.

(actually using meal ingredients, and/or having the character cook meals they're Expert, Skilled or Capable with, increases the chances of landing a personal meal title and decreases the chances of a forcibly D~G-rank meal. if they're Eager with the meal, the chances of a personal title AND the chances of an E~G meal both increase, with the chances of a D-rank meal plumetting.)

with that out of the way, let's get in-depth!

X-TIER: The Master Chef

1st place: Bunet (40% S-SS, 0% A, 15% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

shocking news for us to start with here: lit oventops are hot, and Bunet, the guy whose literal job is to cook excellently... can, in fact, cook excellently,

the specifics are somewhat worth enumerating, at least. Bunet is, for starters, the only character in the entire game with more than one S-rank or higher personal meal title, which makes him likelier than anyone else to hit the absolute highest marks. speaking of which -- the absolute ABSOLUTE highest mark, double-S-rank, is only available at all to two characters in the game, of which one is, naturally, Bunet here.

and of course, all the chance spreads I'm providing here assume a meal with no ingredients given and with which the character has no expertise; cook more normally, and you'll be inching ever closer to the point where he bangs out a meal to die for as often as 50% of the time.

S-TIER: Great Cooks

2nd place: Clanne (20% S-SS, 35% A, 0% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

3rd~4th place: Goldmary, Zelkov (20% S-SS, 20% A, 15% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

5th place: Gregory (15% S-SS, 20% A, 20% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

we start this one with a slightly more unexpected outcome! yes, Clanne is indeed the second best cook in the entire game, ahead of Goldmary, and actually not so far behind Bunet that the comparison would actually be as crazy as it sounds. let's take stock of it.

all of Clanne's meal titles are either S-rank or A-rank. therefore, even if you're making him cook unfamiliar recipes without a single ingredient, there's a 55% chance he'll come out of the kitchen with a culinary miracle in his hands -- better than Bunet's 40% chances in such a scenario (as he has one B-rank personal title), and indeed, better than absolutely anyone else's chances. although he can never hit the elusive double-S-rank, Clanne's chances of cooking wonderfully only increase the more you don't subject him to utterly ridiculous conditions.

long story short, this kid makes a good fucking pickle.

narrowly yet still decisively behind comes along Goldmary -- and, numerically tied with her in another interesting twist, Zelkov. they're both capable of landing an S-rank meal, and also bat at A or higher a very solid 40% of the time. comparing the two to each other, naturally the text is far more supportive of Goldmary's cooking ability, and besides, the A-rank title that she can hit, Decadent, just sounds better than Zelkov's, which is Trendy.

inching just behind those two we have Gregory, with a very similar chance spread, just weighted 5% less in favour of hitting S-ranks.

A-TIER: Solid Cooks

6th~7th place: Framme, Timerra (40% A, 15% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

8th place: Céline (15% S-SS, 0% A, 40% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

9th~13th place: Merrin, Louis, Amber, Rosado (20% A, 35% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

one tier down, we start looking at characters who (with one exception) aren't capable of coming through with an S-rank meal, but nonetheless have outstanding odds, etching high results frequently.

Framme and Timerra share an excellent 40% chance to make A-rank meals, as well as an overall 55% chance of batting at B-rank or higher (technically the same as Bunet, you may recall). comparing the two of them, I go off their A-rank personal meal titles -- Framme's "Divine" sounds best of all, although "Your Favorite" doesn't speak to much being that I don't know what kind of food Alear likes actually; whereas Timerra's "Courageous" and "Audacious" have me thinking that A-rank might be a pretty generous way to describe what sounds less like cooking skill and more like... inventiveness.

Céline figures here, another one boasting a 55% chance of making B-rank or higher meals. she doesn't often exceed B-rank, but when she does, it's for the S-rank.

and lastly, we have a close tie between Merrin, Louis, Amber and Rosado. not only are their chance spreads identical, but they have quite similar personal meal titles as well, with all of them potentially hitting their local "[country]-style" meal -- which is non-indicative -- and with all but Rosado also sharing the "Extremely Rich" B-rank title. comparing A-rank titles, Merrin's best is "Tasteful", Louis and Rosado share "Dainty", and Amber comes out with "Robust". and to the best of my knowledge, the only one whose cooking abilities are further remarked on textually is Rosado, who falls noticeably short of Goldmary (but still valiantly tries to make up the difference).

B-TIER: Cooks with Potential

14th place: Anna (20% S-SS, 0% A, 15% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

15th place: Boucheron (20% S-SS, 0% A, 15% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

16~17th place: Saphir, Alcryst (15% S-SS, 0% A, 20% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

our next several cooks are -- again with just one exception -- the last few in the game who are capable of landing S-rank meals. they just aren't quite as consistent as other characters who can do so, though -- so while they're not bad, the stars have to align for them to really show off their best.

Lady Anna firmly leads this tier as she is, in fact, the one character who shares Bunet's ability to make a double-S-rank meal -- "First-Rate", as it were. Boucheron has a very similar chance spread to her, but his absolute best is only S-rank instead of double-S.

Saphir and Alcryst tie for the spot beneath those two, being just that last 5% less likely to make miracles happen in the kitchen. between the two, Saphir is textually put up as an experienced-if-not-fancy cook, capable of going head-to-head with Goldmary on a good day -- whereas Alcryst's cooking skills do not, to my knowledge, ever directly come up in his supports, but we all know that at heart he's our failgirl even if he's doing surprisingly well here. (in fact -- better than diamant! pew pew peeeeeeew)

C-TIER: Decent Cooks

18th place: Seadall (55% B, 35% C-D, 10% E-G)

19th~20th place: Jean, Lapis (20% A, 15% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

21st place: Nel (15% A, 20% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

22nd place: Jade (40% B, 50% C-D, 10% E-G)

23rd~25th place: Lindon, Kagetsu, Fogado (35% B, 55% C-D, 10% E-G)

by this tier, we're looking at characters who can't possibly cook an S-rank meal, but still have fairly good chances of pulling out A- or B-rank meals; they are, thusly, some of the last characters on the roster that we could fairly describe as "good at cooking". indeed, this is also where we'll cross the 20th and 21st places, and therefore, the line past which we're looking at the bottom half of the list.

Seadall heads up this tier with a sterling 55% chance of producing a B-rank meal (although he is the first character we're looking at who can't possibly make something A-rank or higher). he'll get solid results more often than not, even when if you make him cook Florida Man-style. not bad for someone who's probably shaking and crying over the smell rising out of the cookpot the entire time

and speaking of filling up on smell alone, Jean and Lapis tie for the next spot with surprisingly robust rates. their personal meal titles both generally sound humble, even at A-rank, but at their most unremarkable, Jean's C-rank meals are described as "Fresh" (or "Carefully Crafted"), while Lapis's are "Kind of Odd" (or "Delightful"). my gut tells me that in Jean's case, the more unpleasant meals you're getting just taste too much like spearmint and cough syrup, but in Lapis's case, you might have to explain that no, actually, people don't normally add that crunchy finish by pouring on ground pebbles.

Nel is just narrowly below those two, being 5% less likely than them to land on an A-rank meal. she is pretty much the most bog-standard cook in the entire list, with her chances spread pretty evenly across the most normal outcomes.

Jade is similar to Seadall in her solid chances of managing at least a B-rank meal. that's what writers are well known for, after all: consistency. anyway, wow, look at that over there! it's a guy falling off a llama to distract you from me kicking my WIPs under a rug!

Lindon, Kagetsu and Fogado, being that precious last 5% less likely than Jade to make a B-rank meal, are where our chances having a nice meal are starting to get shakier, which they'll only get moreso as we continue going down the list. Lindon is ahead of the pack here textually; his culinary experiments might not be safe or entirely ethical, but surely he's learned a thing or two from performing them. the other two are very closely tied, and so once again, my best bet is to vote against the one who's sometimes coming out with "Kind of Odd" meals (and in this case, it would be Fogado).

D-TIER: Mediocre Cooks

26th place: Ivy (40% A, 0% B, 35% C-D, 25% E-G)

27th~28th place: Vander, Diamant (20% A, 15% B, 35% C-D, 30% E-G)

29th place: Alfred (20% A, 20% B, 35% C-D, 25% E-G)

30th place: Hortensia (35% B, 35% C-D, 30% E-G)

31st~32nd place: Madeline, Etie (20% B, 70% C-D, 10% E-G)

33rd place: Citrinne (15% B, 75% C-D, 10% E-G)

34th~35th place: Chloé, Pannette (90% C-D, 10% E-G)

for the first several places on this tier, we're looking at our first cooks who have at least one negative personal meal title -- that is, one in the E to G ranks. our first order of business, then, is to understand what this does exactly to their chances.

the first thing to it is that, under our usual perfectly neutral and perfectly stupid conditions, these characters will be noticeably likelier to completely screw things up. moreover, though, you might remember that, if we give them proper ingredients and have them work with recipes they're skilled with, that increases their chances of making a meal with one of their personal titles -- including the negative one. when you crunch the numbers on it, the result is that having these characters cook properly will affect their chances of catastrophic failure minimally if at all (although their chances of putting out good results still increase -- as the chance of pulling out an underwhelming D-rank meal are also still decreasing in this case).

incidentally, a quirk of these conditions is that giving these character a shot at a recipe they're Eager to try is an especially risky affair. having them cook in the first place is already a form of playing with fire; giving them too much creative leeway as well is where we approach the point of playing with Bolganone.

and speaking of magic tomes, Ivy is the first one up here. a 40% chance to make an A-rank meal is excellent, meaning she's not overall a bad cook, but the chance of catastrophic failure is always just right around the corner with her.

trailing a few ways behind her we have the similarly screwup-prone Vander and Diamant. there's little going on to distinguish between them textually, but I'm just going to throw out a wild out-there guess that, on average, being terrified of fire can be a disincentive towards learning to cook.

on the surface, Alfred looks to have slightly better chances than those two, but there's a particular issue that weighs against him. so far, the characters we've covered have personal E-rank meal titles, which is true of the majority of characters who have negative personal titles. however, when Alfred screws things up, the result he's most liable to turning up with is a "Stomach-Churning" F-rank meal!

Hortensia doesn't fail quite that catastrophically, but unlike the other ones we've seen so far, her risk of failing isn't quite offset by a risk of actually making something amazing; she's the first one we've seen so far who can't make A-rank meals, although she still has a pretty decent chance of making it as far as B-rank, at least.

after this battery of adventure and danger, we come to the latter half of the D-tier: characters who generally won't surprise you with their cooking -- for better or for worse, as it were.

Madeline and Etie are overwhelmingly likeliest to turn up underwhelming dishes, at the C or D ranks; Citrinne is another 5% likelier than them both to make no impression whatsoever. between the former two, Madeline's personal B-rank title of "Well-Balanced" seems just a touch more inviting than Etie's "Mild".

Chloé and Pannette bottom out the tier; they are two of the only three characters in the game who cap out at C-rank, and never cook any better than that. comparing those two, Pannette is indicated in text to struggle with cooking (even under Goldmary's guidance), whereas Chloé might possibly serve something nicer if she simply doesn't insist that it should be washed down with civet coffee and snake wine.

F-TIER: Bad Cooks

36th place: Rafal (15% A, 0% B, 55% C-D, 30% E-G)

37th place: Mauvier (15% B, 55% C-D, 30% E-G)

38th place: Veyle (15% A, 0% B, 55% C-D, 30% E-G)

from here on downward, every character we cover has a negative meal title, as well as unimpressive chances of making something particularly good.

Rafal and Mauvier both have only a 15% chance of batting above C-tier; rather little to compensate for their naturally higher chances of screwing things up. at least, when Rafal gets it right, he makes an "Audacious" A-rank meal, while Mauvier's absolute best is a B-rank... "Firene-style"?? huh. I don't think I uncovered that tidbit about him anywhere else so far.

Veyle ranks lower than the both of them, in any case. that is because she shares with Alfred that special aptitude for turning up "Stomach-Churning" F-rank meals. possibly something to do with her affinity for inhumanely spicy food, which perhaps helps to paint an unpleasantly precise picture of how you'll feel when you try some of the worst she has to offer.

L-TIER: Horrible Cooks

39th place: Zelestia (15% S-SS, 0% A, 0% B, 35% C-D, 50% E-G)

40th place: Pandreo (20% B, 35% C-D, 45% E-G)

41st place: Yunaka (70% C-D, 30% E-G)

and here we are, at long last, in the absolute bottom of the barrel. boy, is there some and then some to be said for the absolute accomplishments in failure we're looking at here

Zelestia and Pandreo share a spectacularly unique dishonor: they have two negative personal meal titles. this not only makes them more likely by far than anyone else to screw things up, it also means that they actually become LIKELIER to fail if you give them proper ingredients and a recipe they supposedly specialize in. (although again, the chances of their unlikely positive results also go up in these cases, if much too little)

even compared to those two clowns, though, Yunaka lies down a cut below the rest. firstly, because unlike the two of them, she won't cook an impressively good meal even by accident, being that she caps at C-rank. what's furthermore notable, though, is that she is the only character in the entire game with a personal G-rank title -- "Completely Burnt". in other words, Yunaka will never surprise you with an unusually good dish, but she will, on roughly every fourth attempt at cooking, burn water.

go girl! give us nothing!

[education43]

What Are the Qualifications for a Data Scientist?

In today's data-driven world, the role of a data scientist has become one of the most coveted career paths. With businesses relying on data for decision-making, understanding customer behavior, and improving products, the demand for skilled professionals who can analyze, interpret, and extract value from data is at an all-time high. If you're wondering what qualifications are needed to become a successful data scientist, how DataCouncil can help you get there, and why a data science course in Pune is a great option, this blog has the answers.

The Key Qualifications for a Data Scientist

To succeed as a data scientist, a mix of technical skills, education, and hands-on experience is essential. Here are the core qualifications required:

1. Educational Background

A strong foundation in mathematics, statistics, or computer science is typically expected. Most data scientists hold at least a bachelor’s degree in one of these fields, with many pursuing higher education such as a master's or a Ph.D. A data science course in Pune with DataCouncil can bridge this gap, offering the academic and practical knowledge required for a strong start in the industry.

2. Proficiency in Programming Languages

Programming is at the heart of data science. You need to be comfortable with languages like Python, R, and SQL, which are widely used for data analysis, machine learning, and database management. A comprehensive data science course in Pune will teach these programming skills from scratch, ensuring you become proficient in coding for data science tasks.

3. Understanding of Machine Learning

Data scientists must have a solid grasp of machine learning techniques and algorithms such as regression, clustering, and decision trees. By enrolling in a DataCouncil course, you'll learn how to implement machine learning models to analyze data and make predictions, an essential qualification for landing a data science job.

4. Data Wrangling Skills

Raw data is often messy and unstructured, and a good data scientist needs to be adept at cleaning and processing data before it can be analyzed. DataCouncil's data science course in Pune includes practical training in tools like Pandas and Numpy for effective data wrangling, helping you develop a strong skill set in this critical area.

5. Statistical Knowledge

Statistical analysis forms the backbone of data science. Knowledge of probability, hypothesis testing, and statistical modeling allows data scientists to draw meaningful insights from data. A structured data science course in Pune offers the theoretical and practical aspects of statistics required to excel.

6. Communication and Data Visualization Skills

Being able to explain your findings in a clear and concise manner is crucial. Data scientists often need to communicate with non-technical stakeholders, making tools like Tableau, Power BI, and Matplotlib essential for creating insightful visualizations. DataCouncil’s data science course in Pune includes modules on data visualization, which can help you present data in a way that’s easy to understand.

7. Domain Knowledge

Apart from technical skills, understanding the industry you work in is a major asset. Whether it’s healthcare, finance, or e-commerce, knowing how data applies within your industry will set you apart from the competition. DataCouncil's data science course in Pune is designed to offer case studies from multiple industries, helping students gain domain-specific insights.

Why Choose DataCouncil for a Data Science Course in Pune?

If you're looking to build a successful career as a data scientist, enrolling in a data science course in Pune with DataCouncil can be your first step toward reaching your goals. Here’s why DataCouncil is the ideal choice:

Comprehensive Curriculum: The course covers everything from the basics of data science to advanced machine learning techniques.

Hands-On Projects: You'll work on real-world projects that mimic the challenges faced by data scientists in various industries.

Experienced Faculty: Learn from industry professionals who have years of experience in data science and analytics.

100% Placement Support: DataCouncil provides job assistance to help you land a data science job in Pune or anywhere else, making it a great investment in your future.

Flexible Learning Options: With both weekday and weekend batches, DataCouncil ensures that you can learn at your own pace without compromising your current commitments.

Conclusion

Becoming a data scientist requires a combination of technical expertise, analytical skills, and industry knowledge. By enrolling in a data science course in Pune with DataCouncil, you can gain all the qualifications you need to thrive in this exciting field. Whether you're a fresher looking to start your career or a professional wanting to upskill, this course will equip you with the knowledge, skills, and practical experience to succeed as a data scientist.

Explore DataCouncil’s offerings today and take the first step toward unlocking a rewarding career in data science! Looking for the best data science course in Pune? DataCouncil offers comprehensive data science classes in Pune, designed to equip you with the skills to excel in this booming field. Our data science course in Pune covers everything from data analysis to machine learning, with competitive data science course fees in Pune. We provide job-oriented programs, making us the best institute for data science in Pune with placement support. Explore online data science training in Pune and take your career to new heights!

[govindhtech]

Extractive AI vs. Generative AI: Data Extraction & Precision

What Is Extractive AI?

The goal of the natural language processing (NLP) area of extractive AI is to locate and extract important information from pre-existing data sources. Extractive AI is superior at locating and condensing pertinent information from papers, databases, and other structured or unstructured data formats, in contrast to its generative AI cousin, which produces original material.

Consider it a superpowered search engine that can identify the precise lines or sections that address your question in addition to bringing up webpages. Extractive AI is perfect for applications demanding precision, transparency, and control over the extracted information because of its focused approach.

How Does Extractive AI Work?

A variety of NLP approaches are used by extractive AI, including:

Tokenization breaks text into words or phrases.

Named entity recognition (NER) categorizes people, places, and organizations.

Grammatical functions are assigned to phrase words by part-of-speech tagging.

Semantic analysis examines word meaning and relationships.

By using these methods, extractive AI algorithms examine the data, looking for trends and pinpointing the sections that most closely correspond to the user’s request or needed data.

Rise of Extractive AI in the Enterprise

The growing use of extractive AI across a variety of sectors is expected to propel the worldwide market for this technology to $26.8 billion by 2027. Companies are realizing how useful extractive AI is for improving decision-making, expediting procedures, and deriving more profound insights from their data.

The following are some of the main applications of extractive AI that are propelling its use:

Understanding and summarizing papers: Taking important details out of financial data, legal documents, contracts, and customer evaluations.

Enhancing the precision and effectiveness of search queries in business databases and repositories is known as information retrieval and search.

Collecting and evaluating news stories, social media posts, and market data in order to learn about rival tactics is known as competitive intelligence.

Customer care and support: increasing agent productivity, automating frequently asked questions, and evaluating customer feedback.

Finding suspicious behavior and trends in financial transactions and other data sources is the first step in fraud detection and risk management.

Benefits of Extractive AI

Precision Point Extraction

From unstructured data, such as papers, reports, and even social media, extractive AI is excellent at identifying important facts and statistics. Imagine it as a super-powered highlighter that uses laser concentration to find pertinent bits. This guarantees you never overlook an important element and saves you hours of laborious research.

Knowledge Unlocking

Information that has been extracted is knowledge that has yet to be unlocked; it is not only raw data. These fragments may then be analyzed by AI, which will uncover trends, patterns, and insights that were before obscured by the chaos. This gives companies the ability to improve procedures, make data-driven choices, and get a competitive advantage.

Efficiency Unleashed

Time-consuming and monotonous repetitive jobs include data input and document analysis. By automating these procedures, extractive AI frees up human resources for more complex and imaginative thought. Imagine a workplace where your staff members spend more time utilizing information to create and perform well rather of collecting it.

Transparency Triumphs

The logic of extractive AI is transparent and traceable, in contrast to some AI models. You can examine the precise source of the data and the extraction process. This openness fosters confidence and facilitates confirming the veracity of the learned lessons.

Cost Savings Soar

Extractive AI significantly reduces costs by automating processes and using data. A healthy bottom line is a result of simpler procedures, better decision-making, and lower personnel expenses.

Thus, keep in mind the potential of extractive AI the next time you’re overwhelmed with data. obtaining value, efficiency, and insights that may advance your company is more important than just obtaining information.

The Future Of Extractive AI

Extractive AI has made a name for itself in jobs like summarization and search, but it has much more potential. The following are some fascinating areas where extractive AI has the potential to have a big influence:

Answering questions: Creating intelligent assistants that are able to use context awareness and reasoning to provide complicated answers.

Customizing information and suggestions for each user according to their requirements and preferences is known as personalization.

Fact-checking and verification: Automatically detecting and confirming factual assertions in order to combat misinformation and deception.

Constructing and managing linked information bases to aid in thinking and decision-making is known as knowledge graph creation.

Read more on Govindhtech.com

[bluedalahorse]

So I wrote a little something about the RWRB movie, particularly the erasure or diminishing of some other queer characters’ (not Alex or Henry’s) identities. I’m cutting it so you don’t have to read it, but of course you can if you would like to. Not going to tag it for now, just for peace of mind.

So overall, there were parts of the movie I found charming and enjoyable, and I think things really picked up in the second half. I did find the whole thing kind of uneven on a writing level. I know changes have to be made and things have to be cut when you go from a novel to a two-hour movie, and I sort of like looking at how the adaptation process works. After a second watch I can probably pin down some of the writing issues and appreciate what did work. I don’t know if I will or won’t post about it.

Really, right now, the thing on my heart that I want to discuss, is the representation issue.

I actually think they did a good job representing Alex and Henry’s relationship mlm onscreen, once it got going. The tender moments were tender, the spicy moments were spicy. You didn’t get actors looking at one another like “oh god I have to be in love with a man now” and we didn’t cut away from the intimacy scenes like we were ashamed of them.

But—sigh. The way they cut or diminished every other queer character in the story. Obviously I knew Luna and Liam had been cut out, so I was ready to adjust my expectations there. I’m glad Amy was played by a trans actress, although I also wish we like… knew Amy was trans and sapphic? Maybe there was a line about Amy’s wife that I missed, but I don’t remember one. 

My biggest feelings of frustration, though, is how they handled Nora, who is very much bisexual and Jewish and a statistical analysis nerd. I get combining Nora and June to streamline things for the movie, but I do not understand why you wouldn’t make Nora bi? You can keep roughly the same number of scenes with her and Alex, and just rewrite their interactions to sound like two queer friends talking instead of a protagonist and his Black Best Friend archetype the protagonist says things to because he needs to say his internal monologue externally. Rachel Hilson did bring great energy to the role, so I liked seeing her onscreen. I just wish the script gave her more to work with and didn’t erase her bisexuality. Like there’s a certain audacity to the script saying that the B in LGBTQ isn’t silent (an important line to have!) when the film is either very much silent about a key character’s bisexuality or has written it out completely.

(Although, the part where Nora was obviously playing a drinking game over political debates? Loved that, excellent example of DC behavior right there, I did cheer at that scene. I am 100% serious.)

Also. There’s just… something. About implying that the gay Mexican journalist character was the one who leaked the emails, instead of the Republican Party. There’s something about writing that storyline in an America where gay people, Mexicans, and ~the media~ are regularly demonized. At a time when the actual Republican Party IRL is literally out here trying to do a genocide on trans people, and Florida’s Don’t Say Gay ban is on the books, and everything. I get that Prime was probably trying not to piss off the actual GOP and draw their ire, but like, conservatives are not going to watch this or like this anyway? I get changing the antagonists, maybe, but maybe we need to go in another direction with that. Hm.

One more thought, as far as overall vibe. Washington DC is statistically the city in America with the highest LGBTQIA+ population. Queer rights are visible in our city’s culture—maybe in a nerdier way than some of the more “hip” US cities but it’s still there if you know where to look. The West Wing/federal government are a bit removed from DC’s broader culture, depending on the administration, but Ellen Claremont is a liberal Democrat with a diverse staff, so she’s more likely to have an open relationship to DC’s queer culture than say, a conservative Republican president. So… idk. Let Alex move through scenes that reflect this culture, is what I’m saying.

Tl;dr I think the RWRB movie worked as a gay romcom in the Netflix Christmas movie sense. It reflected an mlm relationship and did it well enough. At the same time, Casey McQuiston writes books about queer community, which has always been one of the reasons I gravitate toward their work and come back to it. I feel like this movie chose queer individualism over queer community, and that makes me sad. It especially makes me sad in a time where we’re getting tons of mlm-themed things released but every other aspect of LGBTQIA+ identity has been ignored or diminished.

For comparison, RWRB is about the length of half a season of Heartstopper, and even half a season of Heartstopper depicts a range of LGBTQIA+ identities and knows how to write queer community, even when centering the story on a main mlm relationship. And yes, Heartstopper is different, different things need to be considered and so on. I do think the People Who Make Heartstopper looked at what the comic said, went “oh, one of the things this comic is about is about is queer community” and created a show that reflected that, even if they couldn’t adapt everything from the comic. I wish the People Who Make RWRB had looked at Casey’s book and done the same.

I hope we can simultaneously hold the competing truths that like, 1. it’s okay if the RWRB movie isn’t groundbreaking art, because some LGBTQIA+ movies are just allowed to be mid romcoms, but also 2. it didn’t do right by the queer community themes in the book, and it erased the queer women especially, and this feels like part of a larger pattern when so many mlm releases are happening all at once.

Anyway I’m done, for now. More thoughts later? I mean who knows.

Who’s looking forward to Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe?

[accelebrate]

Machine Learning Training for Non-Tech Professionals: How to Get Started

For non-tech professionals, venturing into machine learning can seem intimidating. Yet, this field is becoming more accessible, presenting exciting opportunities for those ready to tackle new challenges. This guide will help you navigate the transition into machine learning roles, providing you with the essential knowledge and resources to start your journey with confidence. By following these steps, you'll be well on your way to harnessing the power of machine learning to enhance your career.

Understanding the Basics

Before you jump into the deep end, it's essential to grasp the fundamentals of machine learning. Start with understanding what machine learning is: it's a branch of artificial intelligence (AI) that involves training algorithms to learn from data and make predictions or decisions without being explicitly programmed. The core concepts include supervised learning, unsupervised learning, and reinforcement learning. Familiarizing yourself with these basics will provide a solid foundation for further exploration.

Identify Your Goals

Next, define why you want to learn machine learning. Are you looking to enhance your current role, switch careers, or start a new project? Knowing your goals will help you choose the right learning path. For instance, if you're in marketing, you might focus on predictive analytics. If you're in finance, you might be more interested in risk modeling.

Leverage Online Resources

There is a wealth of online resources designed to make machine learning accessible to non-tech professionals. Platforms like Coursera, edX, and Udacity offer introductory courses that cover the basics of machine learning without requiring a deep technical background. Look for courses that offer practical exercises and real-world applications, which can help bridge the gap between theory and practice.

Start with Data Analysis

One of the most crucial aspects of machine learning is data analysis. Learning how to handle and analyze data will make the transition smoother. Tools like Excel, Google Sheets, and basic statistical software are great starting points. Once you're comfortable with data handling, you can move on to more advanced tools like Python or R, which are commonly used in machine learning.

Choose the Right Training Program

For non-tech professionals, choosing a comprehensive and supportive training program is vital. Look for programs that offer structured learning paths, hands-on projects, and personalized support. Accelebrate is a renowned provider in this space, offering a wide range of courses designed to cater to different levels of expertise and industry needs. Their courses are known for their practical approach and expert instructors, making them an excellent choice for those new to the field.

Stay Updated and Keep Learning

Machine learning is a rapidly evolving field, and continuous learning is essential. Stay updated with the latest trends, tools, and technologies by following industry blogs, subscribing to relevant journals, and experimenting with new techniques and algorithms.

In Conclusion

Transitioning into a machine learning role as a non-tech professional is entirely achievable with the right approach and resources. To further accelerate your learning journey, consider enrolling in a course with Accelebrate. Their extensive range of machine learning courses is tailored to help professionals from all backgrounds gain the skills they need to succeed in the world of data and AI.

Embrace the challenge, and you'll find that the world of machine learning is not just for techies—it's for anyone willing to learn and innovate. Happy learning!

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