#I’m already most likely on a government watchlist so why not have fun

[undead-doofus]

[lovelyirony]

sweeter than honey (redux)

Pepper Potts did not exactly mean to become a criminal. Really, she still doesn’t think she is. 

But here are the facts: 

1.) She has broken several laws in pursuit of funds that do not belong to her. 

2.) The FBI would like to talk to her about several things and potentially put her under arrest. 

3.) She can no longer go to her regular coffee shop because the barista snitched and told them her name, as well as her occupation. 

Pepper broke several laws because the company she was working for (Stane International) was technically breaking laws, but laws that do not apply to corporations because corporations do this thing called “funding campaigns” and also sometimes “doing favors.” 

She decided to do the same and suddenly she is a criminal. Not her fault she redistributed money back into the community, and now they can’t get any of it back. 

It’s just how that worked out. 

She’s been staying at a hotel that serves many questionable individuals each month, and it has an indoor pool and a three-star rating on the latest travel website. 

It’s nondescript, not her style, and she’s currently in the bathroom having a crisis because she most likely needs to dye her hair. 

She’s vain. Pepper knows she is, has known it since high school when she trimmed her hair and cried. Her hair, by all accounts, is gorgeous. It’s a shiny strawberry-blonde that makes her look like an ice queen in winter and a mysterious fairy queen in summer. 

She does not want to dye it. But here she is with an eight dollar box of dye and thoughts in her head. 

And then her hotel door opens. 

Not supposed to do that, but that’s what happens when you’re in a three-star hotel. 

She is also in old athletic shorts that have most definitely seen better days and a tank top that was a last-minute buy from the nearest store, and it does not suit her at all. 

Facing her is a man with an odd beard, tinted sunglasses, and a graphic t-shirt over a blazer. 

“So. You pissed off Stane Industries,” he drawls. “I’m impressed. Usually they just sweep their little problems under the rug.” 

“I’ll sweep you under one if you’d like,” Pepper offers, wondering how quickly a blowdryer can knock someone out. She’s not sure how well-made the hotel one is. Probably not very. 

“I’m not here to kill you,” the man says. He takes off his sunglasses. His eyes are a nice shade of brown, not that you’re supposed to notice that about a potential enemy. Pepper is just that skilled. 

“Then what are you here to do? Make me move to Florida?” 

“No, the opposite. We’re staying here. I’m offering you a job position of helping me take down Obadiah Stane and the company itself.” 

“Who would I be working with?” 

“Anthony Stark.” 

Pepper stills. 

She read the news when she was in college, same time as Tony Stark. Went missing in the car crash, no one found his body. Temperatures were freezing, he was wearing a tuxedo. The chances were that he froze to death somewhere that they didn’t find yet. 

Chances were. What an odd little phrase. 

“So, you made it out.” 

“Not as hard as people say it seems to be, Virginia.” 

“Call me Pepper, my first name disgusts me.” 

“Gotcha, Pepper. Call me Tony. You in?” 

“Obviously. What do I need to do?” 

“Meet the team.” 

-

There is Rhodey, who was Tony’s best friend and sobbed on national television for two weeks until they forgot all about him. 

“He’ll cry at anything,” Tony says with a laugh as Rhodey sends him a dirty look. “Just made him think about neon shoes and he bawled like a baby.”

“I did not,” Rhodey hisses. “I was a good crier.” 

 “You looked like a seal,” Pepper intervenes. “But you played the part quite well. Nice to meet you.” 

“Right back at you, Pepper.” 

She meets Happy, a man who is all serious and grumpy and “did not want to break the law before forty” but he also gets to watch Downton Abbey whenever he wants, so he’s not doing too bad. 

He runs security and also tells Rhodey and Tony when they’re banned from ordering pizza all the time, and Pepper is inducted into the Healthy Eating Committee. 

There’s Bruce Banner, who enjoys taking over corporations for fun, and this is his second one. His first was some sort of health insurance scam, and apparently that was just to finish up his thesis for his third doctorate. 

“He has seven degrees, he’s weird,” Tony says. 

“Oh like you’re any better,” Bruce says with a snort. “You learned twelve languages for fun. Including French, which is useless.” 

“French is not useless,” Tony says. “It got us free food in Canada.” 

“We would’ve gotten it anyway if we’d done it my way.” 

“Stealing?” Rhodey asks. 

“Yes!” 

Pepper laughs. 

- 

Their job is a bit easier than anticipated. They found out from Pepper that getting into the building is stupid easy because no one likes their job and will do anything when bribed. 

Tony struts in with a badly-made-employee-ID and talks about a copying machine and coffee and seeing someone next month for dinner. Pepper just keeps her head down and pretends like she’s meeting someone for something. Like usual. 

Obadiah Stane is out of the country on a meeting, and his secretary is scared to death of him, so they’re allowed to poke around the office and find some interesting information. 

The problem comes when someone recognizes Bruce outside (government watchlists: the most pesky things on earth) and suddenly there’s this huge fuss. 

Tony pushes Pepper into an office closet and then promptly asks her if anyone opens the door, if she’s alright with him kissing her. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“People don’t like watching kissing, too intimate. Also, you have a lovely face and you’re quite funny, and I think it’d be fun and delightful to kiss you.” 

“How long have you thought about that?” 

“Not going to talk about that, just want an answer. If you say no--and feel free to, there’s no obligation in physical contact right now--it does complicate plans A to D. I suppose we could play the divorced couple route, but I’m not a gigantic fan about that.” 

“I mean, I guess? It wouldn’t be bad, and I’m not exactly opposed to it, Would it mean anything later?” 

“Do you want it to?” 

“Let’s figure that out after we do it.” 

“If we need to do it.” 

Door swings open. 

Oh, there’s a need. 

Tony is a particularly nice kisser, Pepper thinks. The thought runs through her head that she’s only kissed two people before Tony, and one was in high school so that doesn’t count, but the other was a secretary at an old company she used to work for.

But Tony is nice. Soft and warm and he grabs her waist and that’s nice. 

“Oh my god, sorry,” the employee mutters. “I just, I thought--” 

“Occupied!” Tony says, not even stopping as he kicks out his leg and practically stomps the poor other guy in the stomach. 

They get out, run, and Pepper laughs as she sees a bit of pink lipstick on the side of Tony’s mouth. 

“So, how’d I do?” 

“Send me a survey,” Pepper remarks. “Or a ranking.” 

“On a scale of one to ten?” 

“Seven.” 

“I was that bad?” 

“How do you rank things? Do you put one as the best?” 

“Obviously.” 

“No, you’re an idiot. One is always the worst. You’re a nine. It would’ve been higher but we were in a corporate office and in a supply closet.” 

“So what you’re saying is, I’ll have to try again?” 

“Preferably over a couple glasses of wine and pizza. The good kind, though. Not the garbage Rhodey orders.” 

They approach the car that Happy has, with Rhodey and Bruce already leading others on a goose chase. 

“You two have too much fun,” Happy mutters. “Boss, you got lipstick on your side. Did you get the drives?” 

“Transferred and set to release to every major news outlet tomorrow morning at six a.m.,” Tony says. “Interns are going to curse my name as they’re forced to rewrite articles.” 

Pepper smiles. 

That night, they have a couple of glasses of wine and Tony orders the good pizza, the kind that costs a little bit too much for what it is, but it’s all worth it in the end. 

- 

When Tony takes over the company after about six months of legal battles that would probably have drawn on for well over a decade if not for the fact that Tony is one of the most in-your-face-let’s-talk men she’s ever met, Pepper was kind of expecting things to slow down. 

Of course not. That’s not her style nor is it Tony’s, although arguably a vacation or a nice spa day would have been nice beforehand. 

“We have shit to do,” Tony says. “Rhodey, you need to help me revamp R&D. Pepper, I need to talk to you in the office.” 

They’ve already hired a company to completely redesign the entire building and refocus the company’s outlook, starting with getting rid of the disgusting 1970s carpet and chairs. God, it’s ugly. Pepper cried when she saw the office chairs. 

But she’s in Tony’s office, and she’s wondering if this is going to be directly related to workplace relationships or not. She’s already prepared an argument as to why she still wants a relationship and just how much professionalism she can exhibit in the face of hardship. 

(That hardship being the fact that Tony looks quite good in suits but also has arms that are made for tank tops.) 

“I have a problem with you,” Tony says. “And it’s that I want to make you CEO, but I don’t want people to think that you got it just because we’re dating. So we have an issue to cross.” 

Pepper was not expecting this. She was expecting maybe head accountant, or head of the PR team. But CEO? That was something that was...wow. Pepper had had a fifteen year plan for working up from wherever it was that she would be at. 

She also didn’t know they were dating. 

“We’re dating?” 

“Did I read the kiss wrong? Oh shit, was the seven secretly the bad seven?” 

“No!” Pepper says. “You just never told me that we were dating, we didn’t have a communicative conversation about it.” 

“Oh. Well, would you like to go on dates and things?” 

“What’s ‘and things’?” 

“You know. Sexy times. But I wanted to be a professional about it. But I am not that professional.” 

“No, no you’re not. Which is why you offered me the CEO position and why I am accepting it. But I will also date you...and things.” 

“Excellent. Have a dinner tonight while we discuss how to do Microsoft Excel?” 

“I already know how to use it.” 

“Pepper, you are the only woman for me in this lifetime and the next.” 

“And the one after that?” 

“I’m assuming you’ll get bored of me and marry someone who’s seven feet tall.” 

“Seven feet tall? What, am I going to attend every NBA game for the next husband?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know what you’ll do. I’ll probably be halfway into a grave over despair.” 

Pepper chuckles, dropping a short kiss onto his temple. 

“Well, I hope I don’t have to witness that. You want me to make some salad for tonight then?” 

“Yes please! We also need to review the decor and see what chairs to order.” 

Pepper nods. 

“We need to ask Rhodey, he has opinions about design of those.” 

“Of course he does, he hates standing too long. We’ll send him some of our options.” 

She waves as she leaves the office. 

What Tony misses: 

Pepper pumps her fist as she leaves the office, nearly stumbles, and is quite glad that no security cameras were installed that day. 

What Pepper misses: 

Tony spins so hard in his office chair as a celebration that it topples over. 

Yeah, they’re made for each other. 

[travllingbunny]

Quarantine tag game

Thanks for tagging me, @sometimesrosy!

ARE YOU STAYING HOME FROM WORK/SCHOOL? I am staying home but not from work, because I work at home. Not just now, I always work at home, so there hasn’t been any change in that respect. The volume of work was the same as always during the last few weeks, too. I haven’t had any new work since Friday, so I’m enjoying a few days of rest, but I don’t know if this has anything to do with Corona. A few days of rest and no work has happened before. It will give me more time to clean my apartment.

IF YOU’RE STAYING HOME, WHO IS THERE WITH YOU? My two dogs and two cats. They are probably happy that they get even more time with me than usual. I think that some people don’t consider pets real company - probably people who don’t have pets - which I find funny. They are amazing company and I never feel lonely or bored. It’s never boring with them. Taking the dogs out two times a day, having to feed the cats 6-7 times a day or however often they start mewing and asking for food (especially the kitten - the young one is just 9 months old), having to stand guard to make sure dogs don’t steal cat food :D and all the petting and displays of affection.

ARE YOU A HOMEBODY? Not really? But I’m also not not a homebody? LOL Normally, I enjoy going out and meeting people; I have salsa classes two times a week, which are really fun; I go clubbing on weekends; and my favorites are the Language Cafe type events, which used to be up to 3 times a week before the Coronavirus situation started (these are events for people to meet and practice languages, where you can just come, choose the table with the language you want to practice, introduce yourself and join the conversation). I go to concerts, film festivals, public lectures/debates etc. 

But at the same time, I don’t mind staying at home, and I’ve had experience in having to stay for a week or two when I had a ton of work and tight deadlines. I talk to people a lot via phone, Viber, Whatsupp and social media, exchange memes and satirical articles about the current situation, etc. I’m online a lot, and I’m trying to finally catch up/check out some of the many TV shows, movies and books I have on my watchlist/readlist and do other stuff I never had enough time for.

AN EVENT THAT YOU WERE LOOKING FORWARD TO THAT GOT CANCELLED? I don’t think it’s been officially cancelled yet (?), but I doubt that the Tindersticks concert in early May is gonna be happening. I had already bought the ticket so I hope it gets postponed. I’ve also bought a ticket for a Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds concert in early June (it’s probably too optimistic to hope that will happen?) and a Pixies concert in early September (I don’t have to worry about that one, do I?)

WHAT MOVIES HAVE YOU WATCHED RECENTLY? Since the curfew started, I’ve watched just a few movies that happened to be on TV  - which were all very different, but I wasn’t impressed by any of them (Divergent, Ironclad, and Francis Ha). 

The last time I was in cinema was for the FEST film festival, which ended on 8 March, and I watched Jojo Rabbit on the closing night. I really loved it. Before that, at the same festival, I watched Apocalypse Now: The Final Cut, Blood Quantum (pretty good Canadian horror that’s a different take on the zombie epidemic genre, as it takes place in a First Nation reserve, most characters/actors are First Nation and it deals with social issues), Spanish period drama by Alejandro Amenabar  Mientras dure la guerra (During the War) about the Spanish Civil War and Miguel de Inamuno’s role in the events, The Lighthouse (really good, really dark psychological horror drama that can have a bunch of interpretations) and Dead Don’t Die (Jim Jarmush’s zombie comedy with some very on-the-nose social commentary).

WHAT SHOWS ARE YOU WATCHING? The list is pretty long! Some shows I’ve been watching on TV include: Peaky Blinders (really good!), Babylon Berlin (still in season 1), Penny Dreadful (I’m almost finished - I didn’t like season 1 that much but it got much better in seasons 2 and 3), Wynonna Earp (not great but it’s just a fun show with some cool actors/characters). I'm about to finish S1 of The Witcher and I want to rewatch it immediately to figure out the timelines. I’m finishing my rewatch of The 100 and I’m going to resume my rewatch of Agents of SHIELD (hopefully I can finish it by its premiere date, 27 May). Also watching Outlander season 5, Harley Quinn, Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, need to catch up on Roswell: New Mexico, Prodigal Son and Stumptown and finish The Outsider, and have recently started The Plot Against America and Mindhunter (the latter because my best friend has recommended it). I’ve even checked out the pilot of Lucifer, which I may or may not continue soon, and I’m continuing with 12 Monkeys season 1. And I intend to check out Kingdom. Quite a mix of genres there.

WHAT MUSIC ARE YOU LISTENING TO? I haven’t listened to that much music lately as I used to, but my routine for putting myself to sleep is to turn on MTV Rocks (or the Rock Alternative radio channel) on my TV, in low volume, program the sleep function for 2 hours, and go to bed. It works like a charm. I always have trouble falling asleep in silence. 

Other than that, I’ve been listening to a lot of Haelos since I first discovered them when I heard their song “Alone” in season 6 of The 100, and I’ve listened to othe songs from The 100 and Tree Adams’ soundtrack for season 3.

WHAT ARE YOU READING? Before all this, I borrowed 3 books from the American Corner library: Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye and Beloved and Tea Obrecht’s The Tiger’s Wife.  I’m reading The Bluest Eye at the moment, but I’m also going to finally start reading GRRM’s Fire and Blood, which I had never found time for.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING FOR SELF-CARE? The usual stuff I do - a bit of exercise, nurturing bath once a week, regular skin care. But last week, I also had to make an effort to relax and try to lower my level of stress and blood pressure, thanks to something that happened last Sunday. 

Rant incoming....If you don’t want to read about my bad experience with the police and idiotic government measures, stop now.

Namely, the idiotic government of my country has imposed “measures” which are supposed to be against the spread of Coronavirus but mostly don’t make any sense - they are constantly extending curfew and changing the time of it, and have changed the times when dog owners are allowed to walk their dogs. At one point, it seemed like there was no allowed time for that in the evening or afternoon. You had to listen to the news all the time (and listening to news and the President’s speeches is one of the things that annoys me the most) to figure these things out. And the weekend before last was their first experiment in an extra-long 3 day curfew, which I wasn’t even aware of, when they actually had the police patrol and arrest people for just walking on their own (or, in one case, a young farmer in his tractor - two days after the minister of agriculture said on TV that farmers would be exempt from the curfew - they changed it). So I got manhandled, put in handcuffs and taken to the station for walking my dogs all on my own, with no one else around (which is endangering people and helping the spread of Corona - how exactly??!) where i had to sit for 2 hours while a cop was writing stuff down from the records, and about 60 other cops walked right by me, 10 of whom didn’t have masks, while 3 had but pulled them up/down, then in a police car with 3 other people they picked up - who can’t sit any further than half a meter from you as there’s not enough room, then about 1.5 hours more at the court, with a bunch of other people (and everyone was sitting right next to each other - I was the only one who was like “Nope” and stood a couple of meters away from the others), where they passed the judgment that I have to pay a fine of almost 450 EUR - the amount that’s prescribed for everyone. (And in Serbia, that’s about 1.5 of the minimum wage. I can pay my bills for 3 months from that amount.) Turns out, they arrested some 700-800 people that weekend, so I guess they’re gonna extort a lot of money from the people - if all of them are able to pay it within 15 days (which I doubt. I can withdraw the money from the bank, but I don’t think everyone can). My temperature, pulse and probably blood pressure went up immediately and took an entire week to come down - due to stress, a lot of anger and fear - I had my mask and gloves, but that was still the most close contact and exposure to a lot of other people, much more than I’ve had in weeks. I yelled and ranted and told them that they’re the ones putting others and themselves in danger of contracting Corona, and they probably knew I was right, but it makes no difference -  President Vučić is either an idiot who actually thinks the virus is lurking outside in the air to jump at people, but only during the hours he decides, or, more likely, he doesn’t care, but is a wannabe dictator who likes to act self-important and playact at imposing “strict but necessary measures”.

/end rant. Sorry about that. But that’s why I bought a temperature meter and blood pressure meter, because I was having high temperature, heart palpitations and pressure in my chest, which hasn’t happened to me in a long time (I was also starting to feel PMS, which added to it and didn’t help, but is normally nowhere near as bad when I’m not stressed out) so I needed a lot of self-care last week - which included tranquilizers, but mostly trying my best to relax and feel better. And I’m finally well now and close to how I was before the whole arrest idiocy.

Tagging @jeanie205 @kizo2703 @weareagentsofnothing @turtle-paced @wolfheartgirl @theatre-steph @selflessbellamy @mytly4 @katersann @linzzmorgan100 @immortalpramheda @iishallbelieve @misskittyspuffy @marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @angearia @ladyofthefrostfangs - I know some of you have already been tagged, I’m sorry if you’ve already done it but I haven’t seen it, in which case I’look for it on your blog. Sorry to everyone I didn’t tag, too. 

[trainsinanime]

Red Web Mystery Reviews

Red Web is a podcast by Rooster Teeth featuring two guys from that whole Achievement Hunter thing that I can never tell apart (but you don’t need to know anything about this) about unsolved mysteries that often but not always have something to do with the internet. Let’s review the episodes out so far, because… well, no reason, honestly, I just wanted to.

Lake City Quiet Pills

Based on their information presented here, this whole thing and their explanation for it seem plausible enough. You have to assume that this group of apparently assassins is kind of bad at operational security, but there’s actually a lot of cases where big criminals got exposed because they used the same URL or E-mail address or similar.

Satoshi Nakamoto

I already knew about this beforehand, and I would say they did a good job explaining it. Personally, I think they should have gone into a bit more of how much a shit-show the whole Newsweek Dorian Nakamoto thing was; in short, there was no reason to believe this person had anything to do with Bitcoin, he didn’t even speak good english (which is probably what caused some of the misunderstandings), and it was both a huge embarrassment for Newsweek (at least I hope they felt embarrassed) and they needlessly hounded a completely uninvolved person for this.

But then they get into new evidence, and we see a problem that I think is a bit systematic: They don’t really go into how trustworthy the evidence is. Specifically, they say that the one person who can cast light on this might be… John McAfee. Fucking John McAfee. Seriously, that guy?

For context: John McAfee did indeed create the antivirus company that still bears his name. But he sold it in the 1990s, and thanks to money and drugs, he’s just gotten plain crazy ever since. There was the whole thing where he was implicated in a murder in Belize a couple of years ago; he kept blogging from a jail in Guatemala, later returned to the US, and keeps being part of outlandish schemes (including two presidential runs, though he failed to get the nomination for libertarian candidate both 2016 and 2020), controversies, and supposedly super-awesome tech startups that never go anywhere. It makes perfect sense that he’d claim to be involved in the creation of Bitcoin. It makes no sense whatsoever to believe him. If you’re interested and have way too much time, read what El Reg has to say about him.

Mortis

Oh god. This one makes me both want to laugh and cry. Mostly laugh, to be honest, because it is such an obvious nothing burger, but also weep for the internet that was.

The story is that they found a participant in an early internet warez network who wasn’t that great at OpSec. This is only fully revealed at the end, and they don’t even seem to have noticed that this case is clearly and completely solved.

Most of the humour for me comes from the fact that they’re rediscovering the old pre-social web, and are convinced that it’s all weird and nefarious. Why would one person register websites for their interests, and then never do anything with them? Because that’s what the internet was like back then in the late 1990s and early 2000s! Hey, look, here’s my ugly special-interest website from that era that hasn’t been updated in years and isn’t going to be updated any time soon either. That’s just what was normal back then. Same with a website for every person, or trying to do your own garage sales via your website. That was the thing to do back then. And yes, obviously it sucked and didn’t work very well.

They even realise that this is what „might“ have been going on, and theorise about this hypothetical early web. „Maybe if there was some website that linked all these together and allowed you to search“ - yeah, those existed. Digg and Technorati and Del.icio.us, remember those? All bought by Yahoo and promptly forgotten. And to be fair, they never worked as well as real social networks did.

But back then we had this glorious freedom. No sudden porn bans like here on Tumblr; no need to match any predefined template for what posts are, no user tracking by Facebook, nobody telling you that you’re tagging your posts wrong…

It’s understandable why we lost that web. Linking together is much easier if all content is owned and controlled by like four companies. It also makes it much easier to set up a new account; setting up a new website is just a lot of pain and knowledge you have to have that you don’t necessarily want to have.

But now we live in our monocultures and must live with whatever content decisions our corporate overlords make and then sell us as „community standards“, and the wild and weird web that we used to have is only a memory. And sometimes not even that; sometimes these new young kids treat it as a „weird nefarious mystery“. Actually, I just looked it up, and Alfredo and Trevor are both around 30, just a few years younger than I am. They were alive for at least the tail end if this. These guys could have known this shit!

So, yeah, the story here is not the mystery; it’s a lament for the web we lost.

D.B. Cooper

Again one I already knew, and I think they gave a good overview. Personally I’m in the camp of people who assume that he failed to make a safe landing.

Happy Valley Dream Survey

This seems vaguely interesting. One thing that kind of annoys me about this podcast is that they (well mostly Alfredo) generally assume that everything strange is necessarily nefarious, without any evidence. The whole thing here leads nowhere, after all.

Lead Masks Case

Again, I’m not sure how much weight to put on the other evidence they listed, especially that whole supposed UFO sighting. Yes, that one woman may have been very respected in her community and/or had a high social status, whatever that means. But the thing is that rich people who are super-involved in their church community or whatever can still (through no fault of their own) be unreliable witnesses and invent things that weren’t there, or not the way they were described.

Cicada 3301 (parts 1 and 2)

Personally I find this one less interesting because it’s not a mystery, it’s a riddle, and that’s way less fun. Much of the circumstances are weird enough, I guess.

What confuses me the most about this is how it’s supposed to be a recruitment tool, but it doesn’t seem to be very good at that. A lot of the steps don’t really seem to be that difficult and require just some fairly standard hacker skills. This is similar to the Satashi Nakamoto case, where one hint was „knows C++ programming“. Lots of people know that, and it’s something you can totally teach yourself. And if the people who were recruited through this were really supposed to program software, well… why did no part of this test whether they could do so? That’s a whole different skill. My conclusion is that this Cicada group is either a long con or a group that is nowhere near as smart as it thinks it is.

One thing to note here: They just casually assume that the FBI and NSA and so on are monitoring the whole internet, in real time, all the time. Which is true, we know that thanks to Edward Snowden. Isn’t that much more nefarious than any of the other mysteries here put together? How did we get to a place where Americans both think „this is the country that has all the freedom“ and „if you say or search for the wrong things you’ll get put on a government watchlist that’s just normal“ at the same time? Pervasive monitoring of a population is pretty much the exact opposite of freedom, but apparently we all in the western world just take it in stride anyway. That’s nothing to do with this podcast, though.

Conclusion

Generally okay podcast. The hosts are good storytellers, even if the stories are sometimes a bit shaky. It is at least at no point overly gross or insultingly stupid (unlike the official Rooster Teeth Podcast, which is both). So I think I can recommend it if you need something, anything to fill the quiet, and you’re already out of episodes of Black Box Down.

[robot-unicorn-attack]

CHAPTER 01 - WIDOWMAKER

(written by @now-on-elissastillstands)

...CHAPTER 01

She has a headache already.

Len takes a slow sip of her tonic water, glaring out at the room over the rim of her glass as her mouth flooded with bitterness. All the drinks look the same in the strobing lights. Every bartender in the City knows her order by now; she slips them extra cash before the events to keep them from telling her special to the paparazzi--Widowmaker's a woman who should be able to drink every soul in the bar under the table, but Len hates alcohol. The last time she got drunk was when she was seventeen. She spent the night crying into Sol's lap. Drinking makes her two things: pathetic, and sentimental. She has time for neither.

She doesn't glance up when someone taps her on the shoulder. "What do you want, Ardua?" she asks in a bored voice, swirling her drink around in her tumbler. The bubbles catch on the light like little stars, winking in and out of the night.

Ardua is the sorry bastard who got assigned as her publicist--her handler, more like--for the event. She's a good woman, as far as LAZER watchdogs go. Born on Hughes, studied hard in school to get as far away from there as she could. Has a wife who works on metal purification and children she's putting through school on Evangelin. It's a pity then, that her job involves corralling Len from race to race, making sure that she stays on script. Len doesn't envy her.

"You should go mingle," Ardua says into her ear. "You know all of these people."

Naturally--because she's the child of a spy, licensed to kill. It's almost a miracle, the kind of bull LAZER plasters onto its racers. Len tips the rest of the drink into her mouth, barely suppressing her grimace at the taste. She chose it for a reason; it doesn't let her get too comfortable. "Let me guess--you have their information for me?"

There's a beeping sound by her ear. Ardua leans down and whispers, "Just transferred it all onto your screen. It'll erase itself in a minute and a half, so read fast."

Len rolls her eyes as she double-taps at the switch on her watch's clasp, pulling up a holoscreen to hover over her palm. The room is filled with minor politicians and Estrellan elite who invested in the races--none of them important enough so she'd have to worry about them wondering about the identity of her fictional parents, or seeing her face on an anti-Estrellan sedition watchlist, either. They all fall in the zone of people who think that they're just important enough to commit fraud, to disenfranchise the people they represent, to dabble in corporate corruption and extortion. Scum of the worlds. Unimportant, uninteresting scum.

She pauses at the final politician bio, a middle-aged City councilor. Three divorces, accused multiple times of taking bribes from mining lobbies but never charged, currently considering retirement and dating a woman a fraction of his age. So predictably unpleasant that it makes Len's jaw twitch. She pulls up the details of his council record. 

Cedric Abraxas. Voted against sending aid to Ser'hld IX, three times before the moon was finally destroyed.

"Well? Have you found someone you feel comfortable terrorizing, Widow?" Ardua asks.

Len's holoscreen glitches as the data erases itself. She glances back at her handler. Ardua is on her third cocktail, smiling soppily down at her personal screen while she thinks no one watches. She and her wife are so besotted that it sometimes makes Len feel sorry for them.

Len casts her eyes around the room until she sees a knot of revelers in sequins and glitters, all surrounding a man in a dour suit. She bares her teeth in a grin. "I think so."

-----

"Councilor Abraxas. I don't think we've met."

The man breaks off mid-boast when Len slinks into his circle of followers. There is no denying that she is proud of the way she looks. She disrupts space--the angles of her are too sharp, her gait too bold to be compartmentalized with the shine and sparkle of elite Estrellan fashion. She stands out like a starved wolf among preening sheep, and when she smiles, it is a wolf's smile, and her grin grows wider when she feels the people around her shift uneasily.

Abraxas stares at her for a moment, face red. Kings never like it when the entertainment upstages them in their own court. 

"Here, ladies and gentlemen," the councilor says, gesturing with unease, "is one of the stars of the race! Widowmaker! You're--" he glances around nervously, "--early."

He didn't know she was coming. She settles her hip against a corner of the bar and signals for the bartender. "One of the usual, Kay," she says, not taking her eyes off of the councilor. It always makes them uneasy. 

As it should.

No one talks until Len gets her drink and takes a long pull from it. "I heard," she says, "that you plan on voting for rezoning in the Barzan provinces."

The councilor splutters. "Come now, Widowmaker, no shop talk while we're all having fun--"

"But I'm not here as a racer, councilor." She sets her drink aside on the bar. "I'm here to talk to you about your Barzan vote. You do realize that there's a civil war happening there, don't you?"

Abraxas grows pale. He turns to his group, "Excuse us for a moment, ladies and gentlemen, we just need to--we'll be over here for a--" he cranes his head around until he sees an empty table, and gestures her towards it, "--Widow, if you would be so kind--"

She follows him serenely to the table and sits down across from him. Abraxas leans across and hisses, "Where the hell did you find out about the Barzan revolution? That's classified, it hasn't even hit the papers here, where did you--"

"I have my sources," Len says placidly. She takes another sip of her drink. "And my sources are very invested in knowing what you've been doing in Barzan, Councilor."

She smiles her wolf's smile at him again, and he grows paler. She knows he's thinking of what LAZER's said about her. She knows he's wondering what she knows.

Sometimes, it's good to be a racer.

"You should start talking," Len commands gently, and he does.

-----

She sees Sol flirting with Flower in a little nook in the corner of the room after she leaves Abraxas. It makes her stomach tighten, but she ignores it. Len doesn't trust Flower half as far as she could throw her--she clearly knows what she's doing to win over the masses, and she clearly likes it, too--but Sol's a big girl now. She can handle herself. And if a RISE upstart takes advantage of her--

--that's her own fault, not Len's. 

Len slips out of the Neon Demon through a staff exit and climbs her way down one of the fire escapes. The city below her is lit with iridescent violets and yellows, like stained glass backlit with sunlight. She dangles her feet over the railing and stares into the incandescent sea below her.

Footsteps clang on the metal stairs behind her. "Fancy seeing you here, stranger," a deep voice says.

"You're late," Len says without looking back.

A tall woman with long dreadlocks drops down to sit next to her. "You look beat."

Len doesn't deign to debate that. "Go to hell, TJ," she says instead, without heat. She lowers her voice. "I got Abraxas' travel schedule; just sent it to you in the channel. The code's the one we always use. He'll be in LW central for the Torrid Gorges race, and then he's travelling through the neutral zone in a shuttle to the Barzan provinces. He's staying there for a month--he says to negotiate a peace, but he's funding weapons sales in the area, he practically confessed as much to me."

TJ whistles. "Busy little man, isn't he."

Len nods, scrubbing her hands over her eyes. "He might be a little antsy from here on out; he thinks a TEF bigwig is after him. The area from Torrid Gorges to the NZ is one of the most dangerous areas in Fed space. You have the West Pass and the Belt. And Barzan--you know what Barzan's like right now. It's practically begging for an accident." She lifts her head to stare at TJ. "You think we can pull it off?"

"If we can't six him in Barzan, we've lost our touch. You gave us the lead on Vesuile last month; if we could take down an Icer on Ice World proper, we can take a city slicker on our own turf." TJ claps her on the shoulder. "You're our torch, Len. We'll keep you in the loop, but--hopefully you'll see it on the news before then."

TJ works as a holoscreen repair tech by day and a coordinator for their faction in her free time. She was the one who convinced Len that sticking to LAZER and finding ways to fight as a racer would be better than spending a decade and a half in prison for theft of government property. She is one of the few people Len can count as a friend.

When they were both seventeen and desperate, TJ swore that she would die in a raid on Estrella, and Len loves her too much to stop her when the time comes.

"Who's gonna replace him?" Len sighs, rubbing the tightness she can feel in her neck. "Jen Xaner? Gutierrez?"

"I'm hoping Gutierrez. Her record's good."

"Starry hell, TJ, none of them actually care about the provinces. The most they care about is getting sponsorships." 

"That's still better than nothing."

"You're too optimistic for a raider."

"Racing's doing a number on your head." TJ nudges her shoulder. "What race is next? You're headed back home--Torrid Gorges, right?"

If she was younger, angrier, she would still be bitter at the mention of home. Now all she does is nod. "I'd better win. Get some home pride going. The celebrations'll distract from Abraxas."

They stare at the shining towers on silence. When Len first saw the City, she thought for a moment that heaven was real. No human hands could have made something this bright and beautiful. But human hands were the instrument by which the City was built. Human hands and human deaths, all for this spectacle of consumption. 

This is why the Federation needs to be stopped.

"I need to get back before they miss me," Len says, levering herself to her feet. "Ardua's probably done vid-chatting her wife now and wondering where in the void I am."

"You like this one." TJ grins at her.

Len scowls. "As much as I can like any prison guard." Her face softens. "I'll see you next month. Safe roads and kind stars, TJ."

"Safe roads, Len. Don't let them drag you down."

When she steps back into the Neon Demon, the noise washes over her like a breaking wave. All of the sponsors are still milling about, cocktail glasses in hand. She sees other racers she half-knows--Lani, drinking up a boisterous storm at the bar. The main Twilight racer--if they can't be assed to call her anything other than Widow, she certainly isn't going to remember their names--glittering as she holds court with a smiling Flower, stars only know what those two are up to.

Sol. Drink in her hand, eyes glinting in delight as she tears to whatever poor wretch who decided to approach her on the dais. Her followers are either fools or masochists.

Len signals for another drink. She needs something to keep her hands busy.

"I was wondering where you'd ran off to," a voice coos in her ear.

Len glares down at the gold nails on her shoulder. "Weren't you just talking to one of your adoring fans?"

"Yes, but then I saw you."

Len turns around to stare at Sol. Her eyes gleam on the club's lights like small suns. They're beautiful--she's always beautiful, it's part of her image, she has to be--but there are days when Len half-misses the young Sol's eyes, dark and hard.

Pathetic and sentimental, that thought. Sol's fans were all fools and masochists, and damn it all, Len might be both.

Len lifts her glass to her mouth. "And as you can see, I'm busy."

"Drinking your special, huh, Leni?" Sol takes the glad from her hand and takes a tiny sip. Her grimace is comical. "It never gets any less vile. Would it kill you to order ginger ale?"

"No one asked you to come over here and drink it, Nyx," Len says levelly, with only the slightest emphasis on Sol's racing name. She doesn't want to deal with Sol right now. Not with her loudness. Not with her strange kindness.

Sol's face twists. "Well, if that's how we're playing it, I don't have time for you either." She pauses, then adds. "Widow."

"Precisely. You can go back to your adoring fans. Or to that Sky Worlder you like so much; I saw the two of you getting close back there."

Sol's gold eyes widen. "Oh. Oh--I see," she says with a grin. She has the audacity to wink. "You don't have to worry, Leni, I'll always have time for you--"

"Believe it or not, I have more important things to worry about than you," Len says flatly.

It's not a lie. She's a terrible liar. Avenging her family--her moon, her people--would always be more important to her than anyone or anything in the races. And if she's ever discovered as an informant, if they ever find out she's involved in planning politicians' deaths and plotting against the central government--

--Sol doesn't deserve to get caught in that. 

But Len sees open hurt in Sol's face a split second before her usual smirk takes over. She flicks Len off with a flourish and laughs, calling, "Get fucked, Widow!" over her shoulder as she strides back to the dais. Len stares after her, and all she can see is the girl who held her when she was drunk and crying for the first time she could remember. 

Len's been scared of drinking ever since. The tonic water had been Sol's idea.

She looks around the room. The party is still going strong. There are plenty of lower politicians she recognizes, from Ardua's bios and from her own work. Len stares at the back of the bar as she takes tiny sips from her drink. She smooths out her jacket and makes her face blank, bored.

When she turns around and walks through the crowd, they part for her like they would for a knife. There's Widowmaker, she hears them say above the heavy beat of the music. They always think that the bass will cover them up, but she's had a lifetime of listening. I've never seen her at one of these events.

Once, the whispers would have whipped her into a fury. Now, all she does is bare one edge of her wolf's smile. The voices grow louder.

I hear she's using antimatter in Voidmaker. Isn't tech against Federation statutes?

You think someone like that cares about Federation statutes? I hear she's about to get pulled from racing for a long-term mission in the Lava provinces

Hideous places, aren't they?

I wouldn't want to go near them. 

I hear she killed a man today.

Someone gasps. Oh, really? I heard that too.

Taglist: @ayzrules @bebemoon @jay-swagsby @filthysoulls @shiftyprincess @kzombi3 @now-on-elissastillstands @interluxetumbra

[wakandan-flowerz]

Just As Bad III

A/N: Back again, continuing this series. Hope y’all like it, feedback is appreciated. Check my masterlist for previous parts to this.

Warnings: Cursing, Erik being an ass and not caring about your feelings, mainly just plot.

You stretched in bed, groaning as the sun came through your curtains. “What time is it?” you said.

“Half past noon.” Erik grumbled next to you, the sheets slack around his waist. You swung your legs over and pulled on Erik’s shirt from the previous night. You rolled your neck, popping it.

“I’m making French Toast.” You said. “You’re welcome to come help.”

“Nah, you got it.” Erik chuckled, rolling over.

You scoffed. “Alright. Sure yeah. You’re okay with working with me, blowing my back out and shacking up in my apartments but, fuck cooking with me.” You said as you fished a clean pair of panties out of your drawer. “Heartless ass Stevens.”

Erik smacked his lips and jumped out of the bed. “You always calling me Stevens. I have a first name, Y/N.”

“Well, until you start acting right. I won’t use it.” You said going into the kitchen. Erik followed you, having pulled on his basketball shorts. The words left your lips as if a switched flipped on. A burning question that had been bouncing around in your head for quite some time. “What are we anyway?”

“What?” Erik chuckled.

You opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs and milk, looking at him. You shook your head at him for trying to not answer your question. “You heard me, Stevens.”

Erik let out a laugh. “We’re partners in crime. Whooping ass and collecting a check together.”

“And we just fuck each other for fun before and after.” You added in.

“Shit, sounds about right.” Erik said pulling the bread from the breadbox. “Why?”

“How long do you think we can keep this up?” you asked pulling out a bowl.

“Shit, as long as I can.” Erik said. “I got shit to do. I got a score to settle.” His voice got dark. Erik only spoke like that when his mind went someplace. He never spoke about it. You kept your lives private from each other. The only thing personal between you two was the sex.

“Well, eventually, I’m going to have to give this up.” You said cracking the eggs into the bowl.

“Why?” Erik asked as he went through the cabinets looking for a skillet.

“I want to settle down. Yeah, this shit makes me money and there’s the rush of it all. But, I won’t lie when I say that the idea of a husband and a kid excites me.” You said.

“That white picket fence shit?” Erik asked rolling his eyes.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that!” you said. “Live the life I never had in the first place. Give life to someone else. Pack a school lunch and sign permission slips.”

“Cookie cutter life. No thanks. I stopped believing in fairy tales along time ago.” He said putting the vanilla extract in front of you.

“It’s not a fairy tale that I believe in. It’s the fact that I would rather get out of this shit before it gets me killed.” You said.

Erik looked over to you, sensing your seriousness. Your expression was focused as you poured the milk into the bowl. “Can’t be taking lives if you aren’t ready for yours to get taken.”

“If I get popped, I get popped.” You said. “But, I plan on making sure that doesn’t happen. I plan on leaving this shit behind as soon as I get the chance. I’ll duck off, find a nice place, get someone to fuck with for the rest of my life, have a kid.”

“People like us can’t love anyone, Y/N.” Erik said turning around and leaning on the counter. “We ain’t built like that. We’re monsters. We’re on government watchlists. We’re the bad guys who make our money stealing and killing other bad men. There are no happy endings for people like us. You might want to get that bullshit out of your head now.”

“Well, I don’t give a fuck about the people like us. I care about me…and you.” You said turning to him.

“What are you trying to say?” Erik said. He watched your body language change. “You’re going soft on me.”

You didn’t answer him. You weren’t exactly sure what to say. You met Erik seven months ago. Yeah, at first you tried to kill each other then, you were partners. After that, you were fuck buddies. You’d shack up and have meaningful conversations. To you, you could rely on Erik. He may have been an asshole but, you couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him and it had nothing to do with his dick. It had everything to do with you guys were similar. To Erik, you were one of the baddest if not the baddest bitch he ever laid eyes on. He liked that you could clap someone like it was lightweight. He never met a woman as heartless as him. Erik could admit he was drawn to you. However, he saw you as a partner. Someone to make money and have a little fun with.

Erik didn’t want relationships. Loved ones made shit complicated. The less connection, the easier it was to do stuff. That’s why he’d be quick to leave when you guys were done. He didn’t want to catch the feelings even when something told him that with you, it would be okay.

“I’m not going soft.” You said.

“Then, could you shoot me if you had to? Just like you almost did that one time?” Erik said, crossing his arms. “Shit goes south and you got the option. You taking the shot?”

“If it was necessary, yes.” You said. You poured sugar and cinnamon into the mixture bowl.

“Good. Because let me make it clear that if I have to, I’ll do the same. In this business, you learn that no matter how long you run with someone, in the end, you gotta make yourself a priority.” Erik said.

“Oh okay. I see how it is.” You said in a grim tone. “So you’re going to cut and run now all because I said I care about you.”

“What is there about me to care for?” Erik said. “I’m just a nigga who you can work with and throw that ass back for.”

“So seven months only makes you some nigga to me?” you said going back to the fridge and pulling out the butter. “I believe we got something a little more than that.”

“You got these little love stories in your head, Y/N.” he said pocking your forehead. “People like us can’t love. Y/N, you can swear up and down that you’re going to get wifed up and live happily ever after but, that’s bullshit.” He said.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Erik.” You said with your shoulders tensing up in anger.

“I’m just being real.” He said shrugging. “Live whatever fantasy you want. You and I always going to be stuck being the bad guys and doing bad shit.”

“So, what? We stuck with each other?” you said cutting the stove on and dropping the butter in the pan.

“Hell nah. We’ll ride this shit out for however long we can. But, we’ll eventually part ways. I’ll go do the shit I got to do and you figure out if you want to be a homemaker.” Erik said opening the bread and dropping two pieces in the batter.

You stayed silent as Erik helped you put breakfast together. You didn’t really want to hold a conversation with him anymore now that you knew his views on how things would go. He didn’t have to be explicit and you didn’t need to ask another question. You cleaned up and started washing dishes. You moved them to the other side of the sink to sit before you rinsed and dried them. Erik snuck up behind you and started drying them off.

“So, you mad at me now?” Erik said.

“Why would I be?” you said in a monotone voice.

“Y/N, come on now. We work, we fuck and we go our own way until one of us picks up the phone for a new job or we’re horny.” He said. “That’s it. I see the way you look at me. I know how you feel but, it can’t happen. This is fun, let’s keep it that way. Drop all that feeling shit. Let’s focus on getting this money.”

“Sure. Just partners.” you said in a low voice, shrugging your shoulders.

That evening, you and Erik packed up your clothes and divided the money from the job equal ways. You secured the apartment, stashing the weapons you couldn’t sneak past airport security and locked up. You both took separate rides to the airport and made it to your respective terminals for your flights. You had to go to New York where your main hideout was and Erik was going back to Oakland. You sat down in the waiting area, pulling your hat down over your eyes and keeping your nose in a book. You saw something out the corner of your eye, beckoning you to turn your head.

Erik sat on the far other side at his terminal, looking at you with a smirk on his face. You scoffed and shot the middle finger at him. He nodded towards the restroom and mouthed, “You down?” You rolled your eyes. A French woman came over the intercom and signaled that your flight was boarding. You stood up and collected your carry-on bag, walking to get in line.

--

You took in a puff of the hookah and let it out. You moaned at the feeling of tongue on your neck and fingers creeping up your dress. You felt the fingers hook into the seat of your thong and push it off to the side. You grabbed the guy’s wrist and pulled away from him. “I don’t fuck in clubs. Either we go back to your spot or we finished this some other time.”

“Shit, let’s go then.” The guy said. You tossed a wad of cash on the table for your waitress and grabbed your clutch. You hooked your hand on the guys bicep as he walked you through to crowded club.

Erik was scrolling through Instagram, stalking your profile. It was only a month and half since your last job together and he didn’t like what he was seeing. You profile was full of pictures of you, traveling, partying and showing off your body. The sly captions and posing with other girls and men had him fuming. He caught onto your most recent post and saw that you were at a lounge in the heart of New York City. He jumped in his car and found his way to you. Imagine his surprise when you already had a guy in your booth. He watched from the bar as you seemed unbothered by him until he started touching on you.

He grinded his teeth as you let this new guy suck on your neck and try to finger you. Erik gained a little bit of hope when you pushed him off and said something. However, he frowned again when you collected your belongings and started to leave with him. Erik beat you both to the door, pushing people out of the way and posting up outside, hand clasped over fist in front of him.

You walked outside to be hit by the cool air. You were looking down at your phone and looked up to your guy to figure out why he had stopped. “So, we fucking randoms from the club, now?” You looked up to see Erik. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I’m taking a page from your book.” You said with a smirk on your face.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” the guy said.

“I’m going to be your cause of death if you don’t bounce.” Erik growled. The guy slipped out of your hand and hurried off. You smacked your lips and looked back at Erik.

“Wow thanks, asshole.” You said, pulling your phone out of your clutch.

“Damn, I told you how it was and you go get some new dick, letting some bum touch on what’s mine. I thought you felt some shit for me.” Erik said.

“Well, first of all, ain’t shit yours. And secondly, you weren’t feeling me like I was feeling you. So, why would I waste my time? You and I are only partners and you definitely hadn’t called me for a job and I didn’t need you for any of mine.” You said.

“Oh? So, it’s like that?” he laughed.

“Must be. Now, excuse me while I look for an Uber.” You said tapping on your phone.

“Girl, bring your ass on. I fly all the way out here because I missed you and this is how you treat me?” Erik said walking up to you.

“Oh, so you missed me?” you said as Erik snatched you against him. His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in. As if it was instinct, you wrapped an arm around his neck. Erik smelled amazing and you found a puddle in your panties from the new grill in his mouth. He looked into your eyes, leaning down planting a kiss on your lips, slipping a little bit of tongue in. You were bit surprised by this as you pulled away. “I guess so.”

“Hell yeah, I missed you.” He said, licking his lips. “You ain’t miss me? You had to have missed me, Y/N.”

“Ain’t nobody miss you, Stevens.” You said, playfully punching him in his chest.

“Still calling me by my last name, I see. That’s okay. You’ll be calling me daddy by the end of the night.” He said, making you laugh. “Now, bring that fat ass on. I got that ‘I miss you’ sex for you.” Erik pulled you along to his car.

“Oh, really?” you giggled.

“Hell yeah, backshots and all.” Erik said opening the passenger door for you.

[icharchivist]

Ok so I know there's theorys that Dice is from a rich family or maybe Otome's? son due to how fling posse is connected to the government; what if Dice is part of the family from the previous government? Now I know there has been little to no info on the previous gov but Stella, especially with the stuff on Dice being a king from a fallen kingdom, has been giving me ideas haha. Also fling posse might hate the gov? Like Ramuda wants to kill Otome and Gentaro seems to not like it with the whole1/2

2/2twin theory thing. But anyways those are just some of my ramblings that I thought of while listening to Stella (again) haha. Sorry if this made no sensr

______________________________________________________

Oh no no don’t apologize it’s neat i’m glad you came and told me about it!!! Hi!! welcome here overthinking about our boys!! (and wow overthinking listening to Stella is such a mood nonny ily)

But by all account i think this theory could stand just as much as him being Otome’s son, especially if we take Stella to the word yeah! 

Like yeah, the Posse seems to be really against the government in some way or another, Ramuda had expressed wanting to tear it all down (and all of humanity with it which implies already some very dark history and resentment for the government for him to be this extreme about it)(and the fact he has little to no past outside the government, that his name means “Random Number” and that apparently in the TDD Drama Tracks (only something i’ve been told by a friend so sorry if it’s not entierely accurate) he becomes extremely evasive when they discover a plot of children trafficking to someone involved in the government- yeah there might be a lot of shady things there) and Gentaro at least has the government keeping a close eye on him for a reason or another, which seems at least to be that Gentaro has some knowledge over shady elements of the government whenever he experienced them or has reasons to at least be on a watchlist. (the twin theory ofc but twin or not it’s something that Gentaro knows about the child trafficking going on that we know happened as described by the TDD drama track-)

But then we have Dice and, pardon the pun, but he seems to be Ramuda’s trumpcard by all account, his joker dare i say. I have no doubt Ramuda picked them all for a reason and so he did for Dice, and obviously him being Otome’s son would be a sort of, like, keeping Otome at bay, like waving her son in front of her to somewhat have a control over her - if it’s not that, then Dice must be still a sight that must have that strong of a message against the government. 

Dice in particular has expressed absolutly no opinion over the government, so honesty god knows what he himself might be thinking about all of this. Stella is the only dive we have on that but since it was written by Gentaro and perhaps with forshadowing of the writters we don’t know how much is something Dice “I live 100% in the present” would think, how much of his own experience actually leaked into his verse.

NOW HOWEVER just like you said, if we take Stella for its word, Dice is presented as a Fugitive, a King that had fallen, with a throne far out of reach and even if i remember well, a mention of a closed door that was the result of all the war and desolation, and the system in power, which pretty much looks a lot like what we know of Chuukiuko and what Otome’s government has instored (the motif of door/gates is still used a lot to reference this specifically government controlled section of the country after all).

So while ofc it still gives some elements for the Otome’s son theory, there are perfect arguments to be made as of him being son of the previous’s minister for exemple. It would give complete different reasons for Dice to run away, one being really of a fugitive running for his safety and would give all sort of reasons on how he would burry this specific part of his life away and even more so his whole search on “why he was kept alive” (as by stella) and “him wanting to feel alive” (as for his motto)

Imo i think Dice is definitly associated with one of the Major Power In Place in the Government, either before or after Otome’s rise to power, and that’s exactly why Ramuda had reached out for him: Dice’s presence in his team possibly passing a message that Dice isn’t even aware he’s sending. 

Him being the son of the previous government would make more grim how he accepts what befall his way in a way, as in a way, he would already have lost everything and would have been in danger if he hadn’t given up everything - which, again as you point out, fits a LOT his verse in Stella. 

The Otome’s theory is still very compeeling to me though bc i do end up caring more giving a face to his potential parent ahah, and there would be implications of Dice distancing himself from his mother on his own terms, and there could still be still a conflict in Dice as well, his family is responsible for what happened now with the government. However it does make that you have to reach in his verse in Stella than the alternative that can work quite litteraly if he was the son of the opposition. 

All we really have about the opposition tbh is the brutal execution Otome did on live TV by killing the previous prime minister in the TDD’s manga, which again can feed this theory especially in regard to Stella (”the throne is behind a monochrome window” that Dice says, everytime i hear “monochrome” i think of a picture, or an image, a TV perhaps - quite litterally that could refer to this Coup d’Etat, but again there’s room for it to be about both Otome or the Opposition - it is just FAR grimmer if it is the Opposition bc it would imply seeing his parent being killed on live TV and oof. That said that would raise a whole tone of concerning questions as of how Dice was willing to bet his life for a hypmic if his father indeed died because of it and oof. So much angst fuels for headcanons there.)

The other thing that Stella could hint at as of Dice being son of the opposition would be the fact he was “driven away” rather than leaving on his own volion - so it depends again on how litteral we should take Stella on that regard, but there is definitly a subtext there. Ofc like i said we can reach for the other theory in say, “was driven away because his morals didn’t allign anymore with his family” which is also something echoed in Stella “ Is the ideal belief the poison that leads to death?” but there’s also nothing that contradicts him being the son of the Opposition with that either. (it depends if you think it’s “he always had those beliefs via his family and it became a danger when Otome got into power” or “he couldn’t even face his own mother anymore”. Honestly any takes bring to angst and i’m IN for it).

In the end what it changes is whenever Ramuda is using him as a reminder to Otome than she didn’t destroy the full previous government, or almost a threat/hostage by keeping her son (after all she doesn’t need to know the details of his alliance with Ramuda and Ramuda could use it all that much- and since he’s in friendly terms with Dice it’s not like Otome could do anything for/against Dice without Dice to be suspicious). Either way i do feel like Dice would much more likely be a Taunt against the Government, as far as Ramuda’s goal is concerned. 

I still feel strongly for him being Otome’s son bc the Drama™ but you’re entierely right that the subtext about him being perhaps the son of the opposition is there in Stella and can be supported by pieces of canon. The thing is that most of the elements we have mostly hint at “Dice is linked to a Powerful part of the Government” so every clues can be used as a double edged sword, but still there. And all of those clues still hints at a LOT of Drama.

And I love Drama. 

So yeah I really like both theories and tbh I didn’t even think much about the possibility of him being the opposition’s son before that so that was a cool exercice to try to think about it, and it does bring a very cool alternative storyline. I think i’d be content with both personally but i really dig them both.

So thank you so much for sharing :3c i truly appreciate and that’s a tons of fun! 

Thanks for the message ;O