#INTER BRAIN NET

[dekariosclan]

This may be too vague of a question or too complicated to answer, so please feel free to disregard if you’d like, but how do you think Gale would feel about/act towards/perceive a Tav that is from our world? Like whatever the circumstances that led to it, the Tav that he and the party go on this adventure with is someone who got completely snatched from our universe by the nautiloid?

Thanks as always for the wonderful Gale thoughts & headcanons! (Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go manifest so that I can smooch a certain wizard…)

Ahh Anon, it’s the ultimate dream—to never have to answer another work email because you’ve been transported to a land where AI, social media, and billionaire f*ckwits don’t exist 🥹

Yes, yes, there’s brain tadpoles, world-ending consequences, your likely impending death, etc. etc. All perfectly worth the trade-off in my opinion.

But how would Gale react to this odd individual who keeps referring to bewildering things from their culture like “Texting” and “The Inter Net” and “Move-E’s.” ??? And most shocking of all: they have NO concept of magic?!?

Well! Gale would be MOST intrigued by this person! Here he’d thought githyanki culture was fascinating, but this “Earth” that Tav arrived from makes githyanki culture seem positively mundane.

Of course he would eagerly volunteer to teach Tav magic; it would be absolutely critical that they at least grasp a basic knowledge of it, for their own survival as well as the group’s, and in return he would ask that they tell him everything about their home world. He would have a great many questions, after all.

Anon, I don’t think it’s too farfetched to believe that Gale’s heart would begin to flutter during their very first lesson together, as soon as Tav expressed wonder and awe at Gale’s most basic magic teachings.

And he would be delighted with the patience they showed at answering his questions, as well as the multitude of questions they had for him in return. Such fascinating conversation!

Plus, he’d find it rather endearing to watch them trying to navigate Faerun and their new surroundings. Of course, he’d watch them simply to be sure they weren’t in any danger—not for any other reasons, no, absolutely not!—and he’d make sure he was always available to assist them in any way he could…

And his favourite part of each day would be when Tav would make their way over to him to discuss their latest discovery, and ask him more questions, and look at him with that beautiful, incomparable smile, and…

…

In summary anon, I think Gale might fall faster for a Tav from our world than he would for one from his own.

[loveybloom]

shin tsukimi npts / id pack. please no kin ; id ; me tags

⠀ ི names —

sylas ; lucian ; riven ; soren ; onyx ; jace ; adrian ; phoenix ; xander ; vito ; ezra ; juno ; liam ; noel ; nico ; reece ; reid ; micah ; griffin.

⠀ ི pronouns —

truth/truths ; lie/lies ; lo/losers ; hack/hacks ; compu/computes ; code/codes ; click/clicks ; code/coder ; 404/404 ; digi/digital ; zip/zap ; vir/virtual ; met/metal ; .com/.com ; by/byte ; robo/robot ; inter/nets ; we/web ; mind/minds ; brain/brains ; soup/soups (lol) ; ⌨️/⌨️s, ⚡/⚡s, 💻/💻s, 💾/💾s, 🖥️/🖥️s, 🖱️/🖱️s.\

⠀ ི titles —

the liar ; prn who deceives ; the strategist ; the lost one ; the manipulator ; the disillusioned one ; the mask wearer ; prn who hides ; prn who hacks ; the silent one ; the untrustworthy ; the abandoned ; the puppet master ; prn who plans ; the unreadable ; the cold mind ; the fractured identity ; the emotional void ; the dark intellect ; the lonely one ; prn who protects ; the hollow soul ; the broken heart ; the conflicted mind ; the unspoken truth ; the chameleon ; the empty vessel ; prn who observes ; the distrustful one ; the silent observer ; the fragile heart ; the concealed truth ; the hacker ; the forsaken ; prn who survives lies ; the lost cause ; prn who manipulates ; the unrevealed truth ; the cold observer ; the manipulator of fates ; the lost soul.

[cranbrees-hyperfixation-central]

Darksiders Oneshot (Using a quote as a prompt) 1

“If you can’t blow them away with your brilliance then baffle them with your bullshit”

(Image taken from a Google Images Search)

“Filthy apes!”, shrieked the angel as he wriggled around furiously in the net trap he was suspended in. His golden face had taken on a dark, thunderous sheen as he bellowed his displeasure down at the two humans that eyed him with great amusement. The trap had originally been for wayward demons that strayed too close to the base but angels provided their own set of problems to deal with, so you felt little remorse as you watched the one before you writhe and whirl like a cat stuck in a burlap sack.

Sabine, your companion, turned to you with a grin so large it threatened to crack her narrow face in two. She jerked her head in the direction of the feathery ball of rage hurling ape-and-monkey themed insults at you both and asked, “So what’s your plan captain?”

Your brain buffered momentarily before you realised that she was speaking French, not English. The inter-dimensional ‘visitors’, desecrators and usurpers, all of them, did not seem to know any other human language but English. That in itself was strange, how did they learn it? Why did they know a language from a species they held such contempt for? A fascinating brain teaser to be sure, and since it appeared to be the only one they understood, it gave your kind a minute advantage over the all-powerful immortal beings that rampaged across your ruined, smouldering wreck of a planet. Therefore, you could communicate plans and such to your fellow humans without being understood by outside forces. A win for humanity at last. Yippee. 

Sabine was fluent in French but you could only hold a decent conversation at best, so it took you a moment to translate her words and then formulate an answer.

“He is very angry, I think letting him go would be dangerous”, you said carefully. Sabine rolled her eyes and lazily swung the baseball bat that she had been resting on her shoulder up until that point. It was a vicious looking weapon with the top half wrapped in rusty barbed wire in addition to the many sharp nails that had been hammered through the tip. She had employed you to help her come up with a name for it but then dismissed you almost immediately. Apparently ‘Turbo-Tetanus’ wasn’t appropriate. 

“I reckon we can take him down, no problem”, said Sabine confidently, “there’s two of us and only one of him. I have my bat, you have your sword, and we both have guns.” You frown in uncertainty and gaze up at your catch, who has been screaming himself blue in the face the whole time you have been talking. He seemed to have relinquished his hold on the superior higher thought that his kind so smugly claimed to have and was now just shouting the word “filth!” at regular intervals. Spit sprayed everywhere with every exclamation, prompting you and Sabine to step backward in an effort to avoid being anointed by the holy waters. 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t feel right!”, you say loudly, struggling to be heard over the din.

“Filth! Filth! Filth!”

Sabine’s cheerful expression faded and she sighed in disappointment.

“Fine then, but can we at least find a way to shut that feathery fuck up? Every nasty within a five mile radius probably knows that we’re here by now!”, she said while switching back to English. 

“Filth! Filth! Filth!”

Sabine was right, but you didn’t want to use force, not if you didn’t have to. You approached the angel and waved to get his attention. He stopped his ranting and raving and fixed you in his hate-filled stare. You couldn’t help but be briefly transfixed by the golden pinpricks of his eyes that burned like hot lava from within the dark depths of his helm. 

With a shudder you wrenched yourself back into the present and before the angel could say anything, in the most deadpan and matter-of-fact tone you could muster, said “You look like you would taste bland.”

A distinct clack reaches your ears as the angel’s jaw snaps shut, cutting off whatever he was about to say. He seemed…gobsmacked. You had dumbfounded him into silence.

“Let’s go!”, Sabine urged before grabbing your hand and tugging you away from the angel who was still gaping like a landed fish. The both of you began to run back towards the base. Once you had reached a safe enough distance you stopped and turned while unhooking your rifle from your shoulder. After searching for the angel in the rifle’s scope you shot the rope that held shut the net that kept him suspended in the air. After a minute or so the angel surged into the sky with his sword drawn.

“You know”, you began as you and Sabine ducked under cover to avoid the angel’s fierce, but most likely short-lived, revenge quest, “I didn’t actually think that would work”. Sabine shrugged, “Well hey, it isn’t stupid if it works”. 

Her trademark cheeky grin that promised infinite amounts of mischief began to tip-toe back onto her face. She put her arm around your shoulders and jostled you companionably as you, with much caution, resumed your journey. 

“Anyway”, she continued, “it’s like what they say: if you can’t blow them away with your brilliance then baffle them with your bullshit”. You both laughed, the joyous sound at odds with the crumbling ruins that surrounded you and the dark, sunless sky above you.  

Thank you so much for reading. If you have coin to spare I implore you to commission my friend who is an amazing artist (and also in the Darksiders fandom). If you like what you see above and have an idea that you want to see written then don't hesitate to check out my own commissions post.

[jellyclogs]

Marco x reader Beach day

this is a fic i meant to post a little while ago but my inter net said no =(

Marco usually never regrets eating his devil fruit. He knows it has saved his ass so many times. He was sure he'd probably be dead by now without it but right now he hated it. He watched as his lovely wife swam haphazardly. He wanted nothing more than to dive in and join her.

He knew if he called out for her she'd come to him and abandon her swimming but he wouldn't do that to her. He knew she loved swimming, sometimes he wondered if she was part, Fishman. She was graceful in the water like it was her true home. He loved watching her but it hurt that he couldn't join her.

"Just put on some floaties and get out there already!" Ace grunted, he was tired of watching Marco pout. Honestly, the damned bird brain pissed him off with his love-sick puppy act.

"I'm not gonna ruin her fun," Marco sighed, " she would be too worried to enjoy herself if I did that." (Y/n) was a good swimmer but Marco doubted she would be able to tread water carrying him. He knew he was a tall man and he wasn't skinny, he cringed at the thought of her drowning trying to save him.

"Well, I think I'm going to join her." Thatch laughed, he would never even try to steal (y/n) from Marco but he wouldn't lie, he liked rubbing it in that he could swim with her.

"You are such a dick," Ace giggled like a teen girl.

"Don't even think about being touchy with her," Marco growled.

"What you gonna do swim out and hit me if I am?" Thatch jabbed, smirking at Marco's glare.

"Naw I don't think I'd have to," Marco huffed, " I think she'd punch you square in your jaw if you tried."

"He also could fly out and kick you," Ace added, "can't hold your breath forever man."

"Dang Ace, whose side are you on?" Thatch threw his arms up in surrender.

Ace gave the brunette a deadpan state for a moment, " (y/n)'s side."

"Yeah, that's probably smarter." Thatch admitted, "But what if she wants to get touchy Feely with me?" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Are you delusional?" Marco questioned, "Look rub it in that you can swim all you want but we all know (y/n). She doesn't do touchy Feely unless you're me, she is practically a cat."

"Guess that means your pussy whipped in more ways than one." Ace cackled.

"Oh cram it, you're just jealous I get pussy and you don't." Marco rolled his eyes.

"Well i'm Seriously Gonna go join her, it's way too hot out." Thatch groaned, leaving the two devil fruit users behind. The water was gonna feel great.

Thatch quickly waded out into the water, humming in relief at the cool water. He didn't swim like (y/n) but her enthusiasm for it was contagious. He watched as she dove under the water and did few rolls before coming back up for air. He couldn't help but smile, when she was in the water she was like an otter. He shook his head before diving under and swimming over to her.

"Is everyone ok hanging on the beach?" (Y/n) asked with her pretty smile.

"You mean is Marco still pouting?" Thatch corrected, "Oh,, and yes he is, he is like a love-sick puppy right now."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, " Don't be dramatic," she slashed Thatch, " he's a grown man he can handle me swimming about for an hour or two."

"You know I don't blame him," Thatch smiled, " if I were him I'd hate not being able to join in on something my wife loved to do much. Siriusly watching you Swim is..." Thatch tried to think of the right word before landing on, " mesmerizing, you just are so at peace out here."

"It would be better with him," she smiled, " but I just can't help how at home I feel in the water. It just feels right."

"OK I have to ask, and feel free to punch me for this but are you sure you're not part Fishman? Or like an otter mink or something?" Thatch braced himself to be hit.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes splashing Thatch before heading for the beach. It was a running gag on the ship that she wasn't fully human. It didn't bother her, but sometimes it got on her nerves. As far as she knew she was fully human but who really knew?

She slowly made her way onto the shore. She felt wobbly from the rocking of the waves. She took care to take measured steps so she wouldn't fall on her ass. Her pace was slow but steady letting her equilibrium readjust to solid ground.

Marco smiled seeing his wife coming back to shore. The water dripped off of her and made her skin shimmer. Whenever she emerged from the water he always thought of her as a beautiful water nymph, gracing the land with her presents. He knew it was far too grand of an image but he couldn't help it. He watched her with a content smile.

"Can you toss me a towel?" she smiled as soon as her feet were entirely on dry sand. She still felt slightly wobbly but that would pass quickly.

Marco grabbed one of the folded towels beside him and tossed it to her, "you hungry? Been out there for a while." Marco asked as he got to his feet.

"I could use a snack," she toweled herself off ruffly drying her hair before finding a low-hanging branch to drape it over, " but I came back out to be with you. I was getting lonely without ya," she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Even with thatch out there?" Marco asked.

"Well if you want me to I can go swim with him but id rather sit here with you." (y/n) smirked watching Marco closely.

"Well no I think id rather have you hear." Marco hummed wrapping his arms around his wife from behind and pulling her into his chest, "Don't you have a book you're working through? Pretty hard to read if you're out swimming."

"Yeah your right about that," (y/n) hummed back hugging his arms close to her. "Bet id figure out a way though."

"Yeah but how much more comfortable would you be if you were sitting in my lap rather than struggling not to ruin your book." Marco swayed gently nuzzling his stubble into the crook of her neck.

"Well since you insist, I guess ill sit in your lap and enjoy reading my book." (y/n) spun out of Marco's arms, "but why don't we find some shade and grab some food?"

"I think that's a great idea," Marco kissed (y/n)'s cheek before pecking her lips. "In fact probably one of the best ideas I've heard all day."

[trucydoll]

i got killed in combat with the demons. thankfully before i died i manaaged to upload my brain to the main frame and now i'll get to upload my weird freak shit to the inter net

[moderndayfantasia]

Regarding The Trip:

Hello Dear Reader! I have finally gained the confidence to release an update regarding my jaunt into South Avenue to investigate The Victim.

So, I have in actuality made THREE expeditions into South Avenue for my Investigation. The first one I have actually filmed and has been uploaded to a You Tube channel that I have gained access to! (Information on this later in This Post)

As can be seen within this video I have conducted survey to find out what has happened to our Victim.

However, when I arrived at The Tree in which I believed, though now know, The Victim to have been dropped into I found a freshly broken branch to support my theory.

Beneath this Branch however was a note bearing the message "You Will Know" along with some sigil I have never encountered before (Though given I am early in my sigiling research).

This immediately put me on guard. It seems as if this note was left for someone involved with our Victim's disappearance. Perhaps it is being conveyed to The Victim themself (If they are alive!) or perhaps someone involved in the perpetration of The Assault.

I abandoned The Note for the time being and returned at a later date. This next excursion I believe I had a brief encounter with our H.Lepidoptera. I did not see it in any legitimate fashion, however I could feel the presence of something stalking from the shadows and sky.

During Expedition 2 I realized something I had missed in my foolishness. I had missed a lantern hanging from a nearby bench. I knew it was a marker. However, I could not stay long, the sounds of some great winged shadow fell upon me and I fled, losing the confidence to continue investigating.

There is little that is more amazing than the general anxiety and excitement that hummed through my body at this moment. It is not often that I ever feel this alive. It is only amidst the field of discovery and, let's call it, Mental Transcendence, that I ever feel as if I, myself, am even real.

I must remember however, I Am Real. I Am One Of The Few.

However, this is not the purpose of my post today.

On the Final Expedition so-far I was in a Panic. I knew I was being hunted. Perhaps I had given too much mental energy to The Creature, maybe it had merely become brave enough for another hunt. But I knew, I was Prey.

I felt panic pulse in my bones and fear stab like glass in my brain. I tried to remember my goal and not fall into total discordant terror. I returned to The Tree, I searched the area one more time. The lantern was now broken. Seemingly trounced upon by some unknown force which caused it to completely shatter and shower the surroundings with glass. However, amidst my floundering I was able to uncover a cell phone! It was buried behind the bench. With it in hand I fled the scene as fast as I could!

Now, with mention of the phone. I believe it to belong to The Victim. However, I do not have a charger for the phone, so I am unable to access it. Though, I will be attempting to rectify this soon with the use of my tips from my Foster Flock's spirit shop.

Next time I am able to sneak out from their ever-watchful eye I will be purchasing a charger for this phone.

On the topic of purchases, I have recently purchased a small laptop. This will allow me to post on the go and to access The Inter Net without restrictions (I have been using the Flock's Computer in secret this whole time haha!). This has also allowed me to properly access The Camera as well! There were two things of extreme importance on the USB of The Camera.

First, was a phone number belonging to a "Constantine O'Riley". I attempted to contact this number using a nearby payphone, however, it seems that the line is dead. Not even a single ring upon any call I attempted to make (wasting quite a bit of change doing this in fact!).

Secondly, there was Log-In information for a You Tube Channel called THEREARENOLIGHTS. This channel belonged to The Victim of course. I looked through the old videos that were 'Privatized" on the Channel and it seems as if our H.Lepidoptera has been trailing our Victim for many years now (Or has at least been lingering around the Le'Breaux area for some time now.). The last note I will make upon these videos for now, as I have not observed them enough for a solid opinion yet, I believe that the Mothman has undergone a metamorphosis of some sort. It just does not seem the same as it was before.

Now Dear Reader, I must take my leave once again. I have new resources and new information I must study rather than yap unintelligibly.

I will leave off with my goals for this leg of the investigation.

Investigate THEREARENOLIGHTS further.

Buy a Charger for The Phone.

Investigate Constantine O'Riley.

Invest in Self-Defense Equipment.

[childofthestarpower]

Internet Angels

Hey guys! Morin here! Today I've decided to do a post on some of my Denpa-esque thoughts ive mentioned, this post is going to be dedicated to Internet Angels, so let's get started☆

"What's an Internet Angel?"

Internet Angels are being who are what I'd describe as regulars on the Internet. They (most of the times) try disguising themselves as normal people, but not all the times they succeded, and as I mentioned, sometimes they dont even try at all.

Anyone can become an Internet Angel, but it takes effort, resistance and resiliance to ascend to that plane, and yes, you ascend.

Note: You can ascend to it at any age, but i don't recommend doing that at young ages. Because the brain is still in development stage, too much exposure of radio waves and Internet content can either cause brainrot or premature ascension, which is no good!! If you want a kid to ascend, please wait until they're around ages 13 and up, so if brainrot/premature ascension happends, at the very least its not so fatal.

"How does it work?"

It's simple! It all works in a video game like way. Everybody has an NetXP bar, that bar serves to track how much media you consume, and when you consume media, that fills the bar with Xperience Points (XP) and that's what used to track it.

The more media you consume, the more XP you gain, and at one point, if you consume enough media, you will ascend (level up) and become a 2G type Angel. Oh yeah, I didn't even mention the Giga Types..

"Giga Types?"

There are many types of Internet Angels, some more stronger than others. As scientists, programmers and what not find out and "create" newer mobile networks, more Giga Types are of Internet Angels are discovered, and as of now, we have 4 types.

2G - The weakests, when you ascend for the first time, you become this. 2G angels can blend in well among non-angels and they're like normal humans, just with a little above the average screentime. Oh, and due to that, they tend to be more hostile towards the other types.

3G - The most common ones, at this stage, the Angel will be a little more net minded, but still able to mask it, the most prominent feature about them is their interests, which are all sorts of unique and non-mainstream media, which they can ramble on about for hours.

4G - In this stage, the Angel has a mindset that a normie/2G type may call "chronically online", this Angel dosen't leave the house often and only rarely ever does, they are really net minded, with their brain already re-wired to think in the Internet way. But because of the fact they still leave the house and talk to other humans with that Netizen mindset, they come off as weird and offputting.

5G - The highest we know of. These Angels do not leave the house, and they can be smarter than a 4G type. They are your typical hikkikomoris/shut-ins and they have big knowledge of the Internet, it's history, the textese and laws. Some of them have seen things that only Angels of this type shall understand, and I've also never seen a 5G Angel younger than 18. Legend has it these angels only come out to do pilgrimage routes to the nearest internet poles... They stand there, just absorving the radio waves in, maybe to ascend to what could one day be dubbed as 6G Angels... But we're not there yet, so let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"Where do they live? What do they eat? What are some of their habits?"

1. Anywhere in the world, in any state and city, but they tend to live in big developed cities. I've never seen an Internet Angel living in rural area, countrysides or farms.

2. Unhealthy food, high energy level drinks (coffee, energy drinks, etc) and anything instant (mostly instant ramen, for whatever reason). That dosen't really mean some of them wont try diets or don't eat healthy food.

3. Long screen time, usage of textese and other internet languages, long time on social medias knowledge of Internet history, reference to medias they enjoy and more I'm probably forgetting.

"What powers does an Internet Angel posses?"

With the help of some supplements, they can enter in contact and channel with higher beings, deities and gods and etc, the higher the level, the higher the deity they can have contact with, I've heard of people even channeling God!

Guide lower types, newbies and humans through the Internet.

Guarding and protecting potentially dangerous media to beings with lower resistance.

Create Digital Cultures.

Withstand stronger radio waves

Influence the modern day world and politics as it is, although i think this needs more research on...

Questions with simpler answers

"What type are you?" Seeecret☆! ;;;;;;;;)

"Are celebrities Internet Angels?" Depends on who we're talking, but they're mostly 2G Angels, the celebrities with highest Giga Type I've seen are Jungkook and Jimin from BTS, I'd say they're probably 3G/4G Angels who mask it reaaaaally well.

"What are Digital Cultures?" Topic for another post! This one is long enough~

"Is this a cult thing?" No!!! These are personal beliefes!!! Not a cult thing!!! >:<

"Are you insane?" I dunno,,

Anyways, if you've read this far, thanks for giving this post attention and reading it! It took a little longer than what i thought to write it and i hope you enjoyed it!! If you have any questions, leave them below. For now, Morin signing off—☆!!

[i-scan-your-poems]

full scansion:

– ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – download / killing / upload / pain. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – instant / thousand / deaths to / brain. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – mother/board on / murder / spree. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – blood com/puter / victo/ry. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – online / chilling / upload / nice. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – posts give / life a / little / spice. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – cp/u is / pure and / true. – ◡ / – ◡ / – ◡ / – inter/net for / me and / you.

metrical form: trochaic tetrameter catalectic rhyme scheme: AABB stanzas other notes: There is a strong preference for foot breaks to correspond to word breaks in the first half of the stanza (lines 1-2 and 5-6). In the second half of the stanza this tendency does not apply and lines may begin with 3-syllable words that cross the foot break (lines 3, 7, 8); in these lines either the first or second long position is filled by an unstressed syllable.

download killing upload pain. instant thousand deaths to brain. motherboard on murder spree. blood computer victory.

[renee00124]

*SHARED*

Origin: Project Bluebird: The Association of Psychiatry deliberate creation of multiple personalities...

High-tech Multiple Personalities Advancements:

🧠 Artificial Creation of Multiple Personalities within a Single Individual via Mind Control Technologies

This is no longer just about replacing or inserting a personality — but about intentionally fragmenting the mind to implant distinct identities, each with different functions, behaviors, and access levels.

🧠 1. What Is Induced Multipersonality Creation?

It is the artificial process of controlled mental dissociation, in which:

- The primary identity is split or isolated

- Sub-personalities (or alters) are created, each with specific roles

- Some personalities are unaware of the existence of others (inter-alter amnesia)

- An AI or human handler can trigger the correct alter via commands (triggers)

🛠️ 2. How Can It Be Done Technically?

Technologies and methods involved include:

- Deep psychological conditioning: similar to advanced brainwashing

- Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) and electromagnetic manipulation

- Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) combined with BCI (Brain-Computer Interfaces)

- Trauma-based programming: techniques inspired by (or derived from) MK-Ultra, using repeated trauma to fracture consciousness

- Supervised neural-net AI: monitors cognitive state in real time and manages access between personalities

🧬 3. Objectives of a Multipersona System

- One alter to kill, one to operate in public, one to spy, one to live normally

- Sleeper personalities that only activate with specific codes

- Total granular control: the alter obeys without questioning

- No possibility of betrayal: the primary personality remembers nothing

⚠️ 4. Psychological Risks and Devastation

- Irreversible identity fragmentation

- Chronic confusion states or psychotic episodes

- Inability to distinguish reality from programming

- Potential suicide of the original personality

🕵️‍♂️ 5. “Official” (and Unofficial) Applications

Military espionage (sleeper agents like Jason Bourne)

- Programmed terrorism

- Selective mass control

- Experiments on prisoners or marginalized subjects

[citrusychology]

How can your physical health be impacted by stress?

Stress eats you alive. Or at least, that's how it feels, right?

I've been having a tough couple of weeks. My medications changed, life got busy, and suddenly it felt like I was fighting for my life to keep my head above water when everyone else was calmly floating along.

This led me to wonder: to what extent does stress impact the body? There's obviously the idea of hair going grey early, but how much further does it go?

Studies have shown that both short and long term stress can worsen connections in the brain related to memory. If you have ever been so stressed over something that you start to do worse in school, you can probably attest to this on a personal level. One study from UC Irvine showed that with short term stress, hormones called corticotropin-releasing hormone (CRH) activate and disrupted the dendritic spines where synapeses are. Synapses transmit information from one neuron to another, so they are extremely important.

In mouse/rat experiments with the same team, they found that by blocking CRH from interating with their receptor molecules, they can prevent stress damage to the dendritic spines. Future medicines or therapies could possibly use that information to help patients with ADHD, PTSD, or other situations where stress negatively impacts memories.

A study from the INRS found that long term work related stress, like a job that puts one in danger, had links to lung, colon, rectal,and stomach cancer, as well as Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma.

If constant pressure can degrade our body to such a degree, we should make more efforts to support those who are struggling. I look around everyday and I see people casually talking about killing themselves and giving up entirely out of stress and exhaustion. I constantly hear: - 'If I skip a day for mental health, I'll have to spend so much time making up work I'll be even more stressed.' -'It's like one awful, stressful thing is over and 15 more pop up with no room to breathe.'-'I'm holding on by a thread, but if I take a break I'll want to die even more...' This mental health crisis, especially among teens, speaks to the lack of support most feel they have in regards to their mental health. More safety nets need to exist so that a few bad days in a row don't build into something that is so stressful to get out of, ending it all or giving up entirely is preferable.

--

Quick, off-topic tangent before we go:

The dendrites we've been talking about come from the greek word "déndron", which literally means tree, since the dendrites look like treee roots in the way they sprawl out.

Dionysus, the greek god of wine, theatre, fertility, and madness has many epithets. One that caught my attention was "Dendrites", meaning he of the trees, alluding to his fertility associations.

Though obviously they come from the same root word and that's really the extent of the connection, I think its interesting that unintentionally, a god who has all these connections to the mind and madness in this way, has a direct connection to the science of the brain. Maybe a bit silly of a connection, but I think it's fun!

Links I Reference:

Stress Influences Brain and Psyche Via Immune System

Short-term Stress Can Affect Learning And Memory

Dendrites

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[staleciabatta-blog]

Week Notes - 11/13/23-11/17/23

Thought I would start posting these as a way to recap what I worked on this week

I've been working on a new site for Tracheostomy Care in the European region. I've gotten to use my CSS brain and do some layout work, which has been fun. Starting with a PDF mockup and watching your page take shape over the course of a few days is always fun.

I've been digging into one of our inter-company applications and working on upgrading the Authorization and Authentication code using Microsoft libraries.

I watched some of the .NET Conference presentations on YouTube, and that was interesting to see the broader community of .NET developers gathered in one space.

I reached out to a co-worker to check in on what he was working on. It was nice to chat a little over Teams, and we reminded each other of a project we had worked on together over the Summer to add functionality to another company application. Keep celebrating your wins!

I had two friends over from Church last night and we watched Star Wars: A New Hope. I was reminded of what a great story that movie is. It's got a lot of cheesy humor, and is a big part of my childhood. I think some of the more political themes went over my head as a kid, as well as some of the darker parts of it (thankfully). It did seem slower paced compared to movies these days, but kept my attention. I wonder if it will do the same for my kids when they're ready to watch it. Drinking beer and eating popcorn with some guys for a movie night was a real fun thing I need to do more often!

[goldenteaset]

Trick or Treat!

Thanks! I'm still counting it as Halloween here. XD

These days, I've been having fun going back to my '00s Fanfiction dot net roots and imagining my faves all hanging out in a weird, inter-dimensional "lobby" between fics. It makes thinking of yumejoshi scenarios easier for my long-out-of-practice-brain, for one, and for another it's fun and not hurting anyone. Usually it goes something like this:

Me But 2D, sitting at a desk surrounded by either papers or wispy story ideas: Huh, Belial hasn't been by in awhile. I wonder what he's up to.

*Outside, Belial and Legato are seeing who can outrun the other with their carts piled ceiling-high with WIP ideas, scattering them everywhere*

[sgt-celestial]

literally i want to eat cas but not to eat him. i want to hold him in my mouth. no swallowing no chomping because if i tried to chomp he would just make a rubber duck squeaking noise and bounce back up like a gummy. hold him in my mouth. like an egg

[mikarchive2]

the problem with morpheus × the corinthian is that its such a galaxy-brained concept but i feel like it works only when its not fully consensual for one of them . which is of course a very thin ice to be on here on the intered net but like . im built different and i am skating on that ice tonya harding style

[specsforwoo]

Rebellion | Mafia!Lee Jeno

Okay, so, this is a collaboration between myself (@specsforwoo) and the author (@marshmellowmin) so please support us as we continue to release more content related to the overall theme that you can find on my/their blog. Thank you!

So, policy wasn’t exactly your thing. Even though that was all your family dealt with. Policies, Politics, Diplomacies, foreign affairs, homeland security - you name it, someone in your family works with it. Daughter of millionaire chaebol turned hard-ass politician, Choi Saewon, you could basically say you had it all. Money, lots of it. Friends, plenty of them to go around. Good looks, enough to shoot someone down with a glance. Brains, full of intelligence that got you accepted into KAIST. But you were missing a lot. Parental love - you saw your mother maybe twice a month. True friendship - you doubt none of the people you called “friends” knew anything more than your net worth. Discipline - now that, was out of the question. For an 18 year old freshman in college, you probably drank more than anyone you knew, probably had been high more times to count, and definitely didn’t hang around the best people when you had free time.

And that’s how you ended up here. Sitting in front of hard-ass police detective Lee Jeno as he stared you down with the smallest hint of a smirk. He sighed, running his hands through his black locks, leaning back in the swivel chair behind his desk. “You have a really bad habit of making trouble when you come from a family that only cares about public images.” To be fair, he was tired of having to clean up your mess because your family decided that if he did this, he was a shoe-in for captain during the next inter-agency election. You chuckled lowly. You stopped caring about your family’s public image ages ago-much to your mother’s dismay. You slouched in your seat and smirked at the officer in front of you. Since high school, you’ve been to this station more times than you could count and you’ve dealt with more than a few policemen. Lee Jeno has been a regular for you, since he was basically being controlled by your parents influence. Whatever he did, it was because your parents told him to do it.

“What’s it gonna be this time Officer Lee? Slap on the wrist? Phone call home? Overnight stay? Oooh or all of the above?” You had become quite close with Lee Jeno, mainly because he was the only officer who knew how to deal with you without beating your head in.

“It’s a bit of a different consequence this time Miss Choi. I’m afraid you won’t be going home for a little while. Parent’s orders.” His irritated expression turned into one of unadulterated arrogance. You could only assume that he was given permission to punish you in any way he saw fit, there was no other reason to be so cocky at the moment. “Instead, you’ll be spending the weekend following me around;  that, or I gave a warden whose willing to let you see what real life behind bars is like. Your choice?” His boot clad feet slid from the desk separating the two of you as he swung his center of mass around so he was leaning as close to you as the obstacle would let him.

“I guess you get to deal with me for the next 48 hours Officer Lee.” Mustering the brightest smile you could, you were already thinking of ways to make this Officer’s weekend more miserable than the devil himself could imagine.

Jokes on you though, because so was he.

Two hours and 20 million piles of paperwork later, Officer Lee was finally done with work. You had been bored out of your mind-and it didn’t help that the other police officers kept making disgusting comments about you. Officer Lee ordered you to sit behind his desk the whole time, and given how disgusting the rest of the officers were, you were fine staying where you were. You didn’t need an assault case on your hands. You sat behind Officer Lee’s desk and sat bored for a whole two hours.

“Alright, Miss Choi. You ready to go?” Officer Lee asked, gathering his personal things-wallet, keys, phone, the works. You nodded, seeing as he also had your bag of things from the evidence room. You figured it was best to listen to Officer Lee until you had enough leverage against him to get him to do whatever you wanted him to-which at this point, was let  you go. As soon as you two walked out of the station, Officer Lee’s phone rang. He picked up the phone and answered it very gruffly.

“What do you want? I have a job to do, Jun,” Officer Lee said, shifting his weight. It sounded like he didn’t like this Jun person. You couldn’t hear what Jun was saying, but you heard Officer Lee clear as day. “I have to accompany a juvenile for the next two days, Jun. I won’t clean up your mess. Get Doyoung-hyung to do it. Don’t ‘But Jeno’ me, Huang Renjun. You screwed up. You fix it. What to you mean she’s already at my house? Why is she there? You what? Huang Renjun! Come and get your girl before this gets any worse for the rest of us. Yeah, I’m on my way. I’ll make sure she doesn’t leave before you get here. Yeah, whatever. See you.” Officer Lee hung the phone up and heaved a deep sigh. He looked at you and sighed again.

“Does this mean I don’t have to spend the next two days with you?” You asked, hopeful that  whoever this Renjun person is saved you from Officer Lee Jeno. But your hopes were crushed.

“Not a chance. You’re just gonna have to deal with some of my family drama. Also, from here on out, refer to me as Jeno, not Officer Lee. My family likes to make fun of the fact that I’m a police officer,” Jeno said, walking towards an apartment complex not far from the station. You walked behind him, not making a sound. Jeno’s life sounded complicated in many aspects.

As you approached the door, you made out a slim silhouette with slumped shoulder as they paced between the door and the wall on the other side of the hallway. Their head perked up at the sound of footsteps and you were met with a young man, no older than Jeno himself, his hair was dyed chestnut and the hopeful gleam in his eyes vanished when he saw you walking behind his friend. “What took you so long to get here?” He ran up to the two of you, pleading with Jeno to just open the door already.

“What did you do to your fiance, huh? That her only option was the hide away in a police officer’s house? I swear to god Jun, if you decided it would be funny to leave her out in the rain again and I walk in and see bullet holes in my coffee table, you are buying me a new one.” His voice was threatening as he pulled the keys out of his pocket.

“It wasn’t anything like that. We- we got into an argument okay? I don’t want her going on missions anymore. Not after what happened last time.” The poor young man was on the verge of tears, remembering the earlier fight.

“You know that wasn’t the right call Jun.” Jeno sighed, opening the door just as Renjun raced through, calling out someone’s name. You heard a female voice respond to his pleas before Jeno turned back to you. “I’m sure you are hungry, there is a good Greek diner down the street, we can go there. Plus, it would be better to leave them alone for the time being.”

He didn’t wait for you to decide before walking towards the stairs once agains and leaving you in the dust. By the time you had scaled the same set of stairs he had seconds before. He was already at the entrance of his building, typing away furiously on his phone, smiling. “Girlfriend?” You questioned, laughing as you walked past him in the direction of the blinking neon sign of a 24/7 diner.

“Best friend.” He responded dryly, shutting off his phone and walking into the diner. The diner was of a certain charm, as your mother would say. It was like a new school diner with none of the budget. All of the booths were damaged in some way shape or form, the tables were carved into like 20 times in the past day, and it smelled like burnt grease. The only real “new school” aspect was the electric menu above the counter. Everything else looked like it was out of the 50’s. How someone could spend more than five minutes in that place was beyond your comprehension. Jeno looked up at you expectantly, as if you were supposed to order for you two.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to order?”

“No, I’ve never been here before. I don’t even know where to start!” You waved your hands frantically about your person, it was your way of dramaticising every situation. Jeno sighed heavily in annoyance and walked up to the counter.

“What’ll it be today Officer? The usual?” The man at the counter asked, leaning forward a little bit. The clerk was a greasy man and had a nasty beard that looked like it hadn’t been groomed in months.

“Make it two, one for me and one for the chick.” Jeno flatlined, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. The clerk looked over at you and smirked.

“Finally got yourself a girl, ey? You got it Officer.” You couldn’t see Jeno’s reaction to the clerks comment, but you definitely rolled your eyes and internally groaned. You? Dating Jeno? Never. The day you dated a police officer would be the day you went on the straight and narrow. Jeno waved you over to a table and sat down across from you.

“Chick huh? Didn’t think we were on such casual terms. If I had known, I’d have called you dude this whole time,” You commented, making Jeno glare at you.

“Call me dude even once and I won’t hesitate to smack you.”

“Wow. Bet you’re real fun at parties.” You mumbled, shifting your gaze to the window to your left. You were too busy staring out into the streets to notice Jeno was staring at you.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“My friend will be joining us at the house tonight, try not to do anything promiscuous, please. He has enough on his plate right now.”

“Yah! I’m not that type of person!” You kicked Jeno from under the table. You didn’t know where he got the idea that you were the promiscuous type, but you felt deeply offended that he thought that about you. He really held you to no standards.

“Ow! What was that for?” He yelled, standing up.

“What was what for?” A new voice made your ears perk up. His voice was deeper, but sounded more immature than Jeno’s. You turned and saw a man, about Jeno’s height, wearing all black. You couldn’t really see his features but you really didn’t want to. You assumed this was Jeno’s friend, so you wanted to stay as far away as possible.

“She kicked me!”

“For good reason! You called me promiscuous!” You defended, crossing your legs and turning your head away from the injured male in front of you.

“Was I wrong in saying that?”

“Yes! Very much so!” You yelled. You weren’t worried about making a scene, you Jeno, and the new guy were the only three customers in the diner.

“Jeno, you really need to practice having a filter. It really helps in avoiding situations like this.” The new guy said, pulling up a chair and sitting down at the end of the table.

“Says the guy who can’t even admit he has a crush.” This perked up your ears.

“Crush?” You repeated, turning to the new guy.

“She’s more of a celebrity crush. Doesn’t count”

“Well it depends. Have you met her?”

“I think so.”

“What would you say your personality is like?”

“Strong silent and mean type,” Jeno commented, making the new guy glare at him. “What? I’m not wrong. You threatened Mark’s not-girlfriend girlfriend  the day you met her.”

“Who?” the new guy asked, obviously confused.

“The chick who Mark will not stop complaining about? Reorganized his entire lab and now he’s bitching about not being able to find his test tubes?”

“Oh is she the really bubbly one who’s always screaming at Mark?”

“That’s the one.”

“Ah I remember now. She deserved it. Also I wasn’t in the best of moods.”

“Okay, okay, back on track here. Is Jeno’s description of your personality correct or not?” You asked, getting impatient.

“More or less, yeah.”

“Okay then if you meet her again, be distant. Don’t let her know it’s a celebrity crush.”

“How would I do that?”

“Be around, don’t hide from her. But don’t speak to her unless it’s absolutely necessary. And if you really want to be spontaneous, corner her from time to time and be really serious. LIke in Kdramas!” Jeno scoffed.

“You want him to act like he’s in a Kdrama? Him?” The new guy glared at Jeno once again.

“It doesn’t sound so bad, I’ll try it. Thanks, uh..?”

“Y/N. And you’re welcome.”

“Alright well I hate to break the wonderful conversation you two were having, but the foods done and Jun’s calling us home.” Jeno said, making eye contact with the dude to your left.

“Like home home, or your house home?” The guy asked, his tone changing.

“Home home. Johnny apparently wants us all there for the next few days.”

“What are you gonna to about Y/N?”

“I guess I have no choice but to take her. It’s not like she’s not useful or anything. Johnny should approve.”

“I’m sorry, who’s Johnny? Where am I going? What am I useful for?” You asked, making Jeno sigh.

“It’s a long story and I’ll tell you when we get home. Which by the way, will be your new home from now on.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Long story. Let’s go.” Jeno said, grabbing the boxes of food and walking towards the door. You and the other guy followed Jeno, the other guy quickly catching up to Jeno while you walked a couple paces behind the two men. You could barely make out the conversation they were having and eventually just resorted to reading the neon signs above your head as you walked down the streets.

The boy who had been at Jenos house prior to your visit to the Greek diner met up with Jeno and the other guy as you all walked past Jenos house, his face portraying that of a broken boy. You assumed his fiance didn’t forgive him. You walked in silence as the three boys in front of you made hushed conversation. You couldn’t help but admire Jenos features, him being the easiest for you to stare at while walking. His jawline was prominent as well as his cheekbones and other facial features. His eyebrows were straight and dark, but they fit his boxy face quite well. His eyes turned into little arches when he smiled, something he didn’t seem to do while on duty. Jeno’s entire personality changed around these two guys, and it was slightly attractive to you. The hardass police officer Jeno was no more while he was with the two boys, but instead he seemed almost carefree, like that of a normal adult who just came of age. He hadn’t had the chance to change out of his work attire, but he somehow looked less official in it now.

“Y/N.” Jenos voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you realized you were standing in front of an abandoned construction site. It looked stable enough-the building was only a few storeys tall and made of brick.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t walk away from me. No matter what happens or what you’re interested in, I need you to stay by my side until you settle into a room for the night, okay?” Jeno’s commanding but tender voice surprised you. He suddenly sounded like he cared for your wellbeing, and not just because it’s in your parent’s interest.

“Okay, Jeno. Lead the way,” you said, signalling that you were ready to go inside. He nodded and opened the back door, allowing the two boys to go in first and then you, Jeno following you in soon after. Your eyes were met with a basic hotel lobby with a front desk, old benches, an elevator, and a door to the staircase. Jeno grabbed your arm and led you to the elevator, where the two boys were waiting for you. They pressed the button labeled “B” and with that, you all went down to the basement of the old building. As soon as the doors to the elevator opened, your eyes bugged out of your head. The elevator went straight into a living room like space that had dark hardwood floors and white couches with glass coffee tables and white walls that were decorated with graffiti and pieces of modern art. There were multiple hallways leading away from the living room, one leading to a visible kitchen and dining area. The room was filled with people-more men than women-who all had their eyes on you.

“Jeno, Jaemin, Renjun, how nice of you all to join us. And Jeno even brought along an extra! Our girls should be pleased to have another girl joining them. Please, take a seat. The meeting is about to begin.” The man at the front of the room said, motioning for the four of you to sit and listen to the meeting that was in progress. Jeno led you to a spot near a graffitied “love kills” along the back wall of the room and made you stand beside him the whole time. One of the girls sitting on the couch in front of you shot you a sympathetic look before turning back to face the man who seemed to be in charge of this congregation of people.

“As you all may know, besides the lovely young lady in the back whom I have yet to meet, we are in the middle of a power struggle. China wants to limit all of their exports to the other countries and Korea doesn’t want to have to pay the tariffs on all of their Chinese imports. So, naturally we interfered with this process and now we have to pay the price. One of China’s biggest mafias attacked one of our own while on a job, and now we must protect ourselves and each other from this threat. She will now come up and explain the details of this mafia that attacked her. I expect you all to listen well.” The man ended his speech and sat down, a woman about Jeno’s age replaced his position at the front of the room.

“Thank you, Johnny. Yes, I was attacked by a chinese mafia no more than a week ago while completing a job that forced me to travel to China. I was to execute a corrupt businessman who had been in the child labor industry for years now. I missed my chance while he was in Korea due to personal issues and I was determined to complete my mission. So I followed him to China and executed him there. I had just called the local members to help clean up the body when I saw movement from my left peripheral. Immediately, I engaged the men in combat and barely escaped without much harm done to myself. The men who attacked me are apart of the Chinese Mafia, simply named, and consider themselves rivals of S-NCT and NCT-116. As of right now, our members of NCT-116 are gathering intel on the Chinese Mafia. We don’t know much, and until we do, watch each other’s backs. We’re gonna need everyone’s help and lord knows we don’t need to lose any one of us to this. Stay safe and good luck, that is all.” The woman ended her speech and was replaced by the man from before, Johnny was what the woman called him.

“She is right, everyone. So please, watch each other’s backs and for the love of god don’t die. Meeting adjourned. Yong?” Johnny looked towards a man with red hair. The man stood up and made a weird sign with his hands-a sign that everyone else replicated.

“To the world!” The red haired man yelled.

“NCITY!” The rest of the room responded, and with that, everyone dispersed. Jeno grabbed your wrist and led you to Johnny, who was still at the front of the room. Johnny watched you intently, as if he were deciding what to do with you. You suddenly felt extremely insecure, as you were wearing a ripped Rolling Stones tee and baggy ripped mom jeans with your hair in a messy bun. You weren’t exactly “presentable” for a meeting with a leader of some sort of mafia cult thing.

“So Jeno, what has our resident officer brought in today? A druggie? Maybe a dealer? OH! I know! A graffiti artist! Sorry to say Jeno, but I think the walls are filled with enough graffiti from Renjun and Chenle,” Johnny said, slapping Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno just rolled his eyes and pulled you in front of him-putting his hands on both of your shoulders.

“Johnny-Hyung, meet Choi Y/N. Choi Y/N, meet Johnny-hyung. He’s S-NCT’s leader and basically the most embarrassing dad you will ever meet. I think you’ll be of much use-you know, with your impressive criminal skills.” Jeno gently pat your left shoulder and left. He actually left you alone with a mafia leader. Typical Jeno.

“Well that was rude of him. Anyways, as you already know, I’m Johnny and I’m the leader of S-NCT. Is there anything you need me to clarify before I go into details about what you just bore witness to?” Johnny asked and you shook your head. You had inferred all your information, but you figured it was correct. You usually were. “Then sit down girl, cause you’re gonna be here a little while. I’ve got a lot to catch you up on.”

Twenty minutes later and Johnny finally finished explaining to you just what caused the meeting and you felt a strange anger towards the Chinese Mafia. You had also figured out that the girl who was attacked by the Chinese Mafia was Renjun’s fiance and a sniper from another Korean Mafia, K-251. Now, Johnny was asking about your skills and criminal offenses.

“Obviously, a criminal record means next to nothing here. But I need to know what you did so I can position you accordingly,” Johnny said, taking a sip from the water bottle he had a boy named Chenle grab him-much to Chenle’s reluctance.

“Position me?” You questioned, something you had become very comfortable with doing. Jeno was right when he called Johnny an embarrassing dad. You felt very at home here-more than you ever felt in your own home.

“Skill wise. Mark and Chenle are the IT guys, Renjun’s our sniper, Jeno’s our undercover intelligence, and Jaemin’s an assassin. Does that make a little more sense?” You nodded along, everything coming together in your mind. Jeno’s position was to gather intelligence on the police for the Mafia and possibly keep the police off the Mafia’s trail. It made sense once you thought about it.

“I think I understand. My dad is Choi Saewon, and my mom does youth programs everywhere. So I’m very well trained in politics and all that good stuff. But I hate it so I rebel. I go to major keggers at the frat house near the community college and I do whatever I can to ruin my image. I don’t want to be seen as the ‘Perfect daughter’ anymore. I’m more than my mother and my father will ever be. I attended KAIST because my dad wanted me to become an engineer because, and I quote, I have a ‘natural affinity for the world’s mathematical problems’, unquote.” You explained, sipping your water that Johnny ordered Chenle to grab for you.

“Interesting. So I could put you in IT with MArk and Chenle if that would be favorable for you, or I could have you work alongside Doyoung, S-NCT’s resident politician,” Johnny leaned forward in his seat, putting his elbows on his knees to support his upper body. This surprised you. Kim Doyoung, famous politician and bachelor, was apart of a mafia?

“Could I possibly just to my own thing? I’m an excellent escape artist and I’m a trained street fighter,” You said folding your arms over your chest. Johnny smirked and stood up.

“I was hoping you would say that. Well, Choi Y/N, welcome to S-NCT. I’ll have Jeno show you around and I hope you enjoy your life here from now on. We’re like a big family and now you’re apart of it too. So stay safe and stick to Jeno like glue. I’m sure he’ll protect you.” Johnny said, bringing you in for a hug. Your dad never showed you this much affection-ever. You were grateful for Johnny and his acceptance of your character. As Johnny released the hug, you saw Jeno turn the corner and walk into the sitting room. “Speak of the devil! Jeno! I have assigned you to take care of our newest recruit, I trust you won’t let her-or myself-down?” Johnny said, winking at Jeno, which made Jeno playfully hit Johnny’s arm.

“You got it Hyung. I wouldn’t dare let the famous Choi daughter come to any harm.” You suddenly felt a pang in your chest. Jeno only saw you as Choi Saewon’s daughter, his one way ticket to Captain of the police force. It stung.

“Jeno. She’s not just Choi Saewon’s daughter. She’s S-NCT’s resident escape artist, street fighter, and engineer. She’s Choi Y/N of S-NCT and I expect you to treat her as such.” Johnny said, giving Jeno a deadly glare that terrified the two of you. You finally understood just how Johnny became leader and kept the position.

“Yes of course, Hyung. My mistake.” Jeno said nervously. He avoided eye contact with you and lead you down a hallway and into the kitchen. “This is the kitchen and um yeah. Anyways that’s the dining room and just down that hall is the gun range. Up those stairs is Johnny’s office, Mark’s lab, and Doyoung’s office. This way leads to our dorms and bathrooms 1-3. Go down this hall a little bit more and you’ll reach the gym and music room-yes we have one of those. Music nights are a bit of a tradition here. Down here is all of our guest rooms and yes, we have guest rooms and I’m glad we do because we’ve been getting a lot of new recruits lately. They all stay here so we’ve deemed this hall ‘Newbieland’. This is also where you will be staying when you’re here. Over that way is Jungwoo-hyung’s garden-it’s his favorite place to be so should you ever need to find him he’s probably there. So coming back to the living room, just over that way is the elevator that you will use should you enter through the front. The back door is through Jungwoo-Hyung’s garden and our garage is below. Um, anything else you’d like to know before I send you to bed?” Jeno rambled on and on before finally ending his tour. Thankfully, you were staying apart from him in this somehow huge underground space.

“Yeah, just one. What will I wear to bed tonight and for the day tomorrow? This is all I have,” You asked, gesturing to your worn out clothes. Despite being the daughter of a wealthy politician, you had to fend for yourself when it came to clothes and other luxury items. Your father forbid you from using what he called the “family money”, which only proved to you that he had no intention of associating with you now that you’ve become an adult. Which begged the question, why did he care if you spent a few months in jail or not?

“Someone should have spare clothes. Taeyong just took Mark’s not-girlfriend girlfriend shopping so she should have something, you two seem to be of the same size.” Jeno said, grabbing your arm and leading you to “newbieland”. He knocked on a door in the middle of the hall on the left that had been decorated lightly with pencil sketches around the handle and about eye level for you. A girl who was about your height opened the door in a tank top and mint green pajama pants that were covered in pandas.

“Yes, Jeno? How can I help you?” She said, opening the door completely to show off her messy room. Shopping bags were strewn everywhere and clothes lay on just about every piece of furniture besides the desk and the desk chair. It was chaotic but pleasing to know that you weren’t alone in your lazy habits.

“This is Y/N, she’s a new recruit but she has nothing. She needs to borrow some clothes for tonight and tomorrow.” Jeno said curtly, pushing you into the room. You glared at him and smiled at the girl.

“Y/N! Hi my name’s Y/F/N and I joined a few weeks ago. I’m the newest recruit so far in the sense of I had no prior affiliations. If we were going off of time here, Renjun’s fiance would be the newest but she’s very skilled and brings alot to the team so I don’t consider her as new as I am. I do hope we can be friends?” Y/F/N introduced. She seemed to ramble a lot but that really didn’t matter to you. You were happy to have a friend who didn’t know your net worth.

“Of course! Now about the clothes? Also, hun, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m brand new, so you aren’t the newest recruit anymore. And I’m sure you bring just as much to the team as Renjun’s fiance. Don’t doubt yourself. It’s your worst enemy,” You smiled and walked into the messy room. Y/F/N smiled as well and ruffled through a pile on her bed, pulling out a tank top identical to hers and a pair of pink shorts with white polka dots. Not really your style but you were happy to accept something to sleep in that wasn’t jeans.

“These should fit, if not just come on back and I’ll find something else! And if you need something to wear tomorrow then just stop by around eight and I’ll find something for ya.” Y/F/N said, handing you the pajamas. You smiled at her gratefully.

“Thank you so much Y/F/N. I haven’t had a real friend in a while, and I hope we become good friends. I’m gonna go put these on now, have a goodnight!” You said, pulling her in for a hug, which she gladly accepted.

“Of course girlie! We gotta stick together if we’re gonna survive these pugnacious boys! Goodnight hun!” She shut the door behind you and suddenly you were alone with Jeno once again.

“You know, Y/N, I think you’ll fit in just fine while you’re here.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“You’re a misfit looking for a family. That’s half of the people here, too. We all found a family here in the mafia, despite it’s obvious dangers. We all care about each other deeply and we’ll do anything to make sure we all come home from dangerous jobs in one piece. Jun’s girl almost didn’t come back and it hurt all of us. Another member, Xiaojun, he’s been in a hospital for a while and was in a coma. Taeil, the oldest member here, grieved him the most. Xiaojun’s accident was hard on everyone, especially since it was his first mission. We love and care for everyone who lives in this bunker, you’re now included. I hope you can find it in your heart to love us all the way we love each other, and the way we’ll love you.” Jeno looked at you, sadness in his eyes.

“Thank you, Jeno. I think I’ll like it here a lot. I’m glad you brought me here.” You said, giving Jeno a small smile-which he returned. Jeno had never smiled at you and it made your heart skip a beat. Maybe, just maybe, your heart had been melted by this hard ass cop.

[rokutouxei]

in future tense

part 3 of: atelier heart

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh / mc | gen | 2565 | [ao3 in bio]

She and Theo were born and lived in times a hundred years apart. In the weeks they're together, she and Theo attempt to understand their time-separated worlds through a back and forth of trivia. But Theo learns much more than just what it's like to be in the 21st century.

spoiler warning: a conversation between MC and Theo in chapter 4 of his route is referenced.

What does it mean to be born in the 21st century?

Theo tries his best to imagine what it would be like, in a world more than a hundred years from his now; his “now” which is already ten years ahead of his “then”, before vampires, before Comte. And yet even in his wildest imaginations he can’t seem to grasp what it would mean to live in the future; time is instead a looping spiral instead of straight arrow, the kind he used to imagine it was.

When he takes her out into the city the day after she arrived, it’s her first time out of the mansion, into the world that is late 19th century Paris, France. To Theo, nothing really strikes him as different or interesting in this time period; sure, the fashion has changed a little from when before he was turned, and maybe there were a few different landmarks here and there, but nothing that was enough to warrant the look on her face, that was, in two words: entirely wonderstruck.

Eyes as wide as saucers like an excited child, an unashamed smile on her face. At the most mundane things too: the architecture, the cobblestone streets, turns her head at carriages like she had never seen one in her entire life before this point. She observes the ladies passing by, her eyes roaming over their clothes, and then turning back towards her own rather simple set—le Comte hadn’t had a chance to have clothes tailored for her yet, but soon he will. For now, she tugs at her sleeves and runs her hands over her dress like trying her best not to seem like she’s trying too hard to fit in, like these clothes aren’t hers to begin with, like this isn’t the world she belongs to.

And yet, instead, she does the opposite: carries the aura of being someone otherworldly, not entirely alien but at the same time—so strikingly unfamiliar.

At that moment, the image of a recognizable painting fills Theo’s mind, one he’d seen at an auction once, and he wonders if it is rather too on-brand of him as an art dealer to think of such a parallel like that.

Meisje met tulband, painted in the 17th century by Johannes Vermeer, during the Dutch Golden Age. An obviously European woman in what seems like clothes borrowed from worldly trips far from the embrace of home. During this time, what was exotic was valuable. It illuminated experience, knowledge of a bigger world beyond the borders of the mountains and seas. On her head, a turban from an Eastern country, on her frame, clothes that do not suit the style of European garb. But most importantly: a pearl earring, large and glimmering, treasure of the faraway seas, hovering just underneath her ear like hesitating if it actually hangs from it or if it is only an illusion of grandiosity.

So attractive, in all her exoticism, pulled back from the gray of European normal, that is known and familiar and comfortable, standing above all others.

And yet so remarkably out of place.

So on the first week, she and Theo make a deal.

For every thing about the 19th century that Theo explains to her, she would tell him something about the 21st century in exchange. A fair deal, Theo thinks. This is what he can give her. Just a trade of information: nothing too personal to be shared, nothing too involved. This guarantees that both of their curiosities are satisfied, and—well, Theo will never say it out loud, but—this is also his way of getting to know each other in tiny, unobtrusive ways.

Not enough to make a difference, of course, he thinks. He doesn’t want there to be a difference. If he’s keeping her by his side at all times to monitor her, he’ll just have to do his fair share of understanding who he’s working with. That’s about it.

Except there was one thing Theo did not get to add onto his assumptions: that the woman never runs out of questions.

Sure, she has the hindsight of having been born in the time when this has all technically already happened, already a time long past her—time is a spiral, or something, Theo reminds himself—but the reality of having to live all this is still way beyond her. So she doesn’t stop asking. Even about the most trivial of things.

It drives Theo insane.

Like what kinds of clothes people find fashionable. (“You could see it on the street.” “Well, yeah, but I wanted to know what you found fashionable.” “I don’t really care.” “You’re boring.”)

Or if ankles are still scandalous things. (A squint of eyebrows. “Dresses are often supposed to touch the floor.” “Not where I’m from. You’ll see much more than just ankles.” “…Knees?” “…Thighs. Or more.” “…Why.” “Why not?”)

And what kind of things people enjoy. (“Séances? Sounds scary.” “Others talk in flower codes.” “Oh! We still have that in the future! Kinda.”)

Also, if Kings and Queens are still “a thing” (her words)—and she can’t seem to believe him when he says they do, still, in fact, exist, and reign over nations. (“So instead, you have, democracy, you call it?” “Well, we’re trying.”)

But even if she always seems so awed by the workings of this era, somehow it is Theo who is left much more bewildered with the stories she tells. While she listens to him with this kind of avid wonder, the kind a child would have to a storytelling adult, Theo sits next to her like a skeptic, incredulous, mind unable to process what she is saying.

Like, what is an internet? The inter-, he figures out, but a net? Of what?

“It’s a network! That’s what the net stands for. So it’s kind of like a group of people, who get to talk, but digital.”

“Digital? What do fingers have to do with his?”

“Fingers? …oh, because digits. Um. No, it’s kind of like… a space that… you can’t touch? It’s sort of… mental?”

Theo doesn’t have a follow-up question because he doesn’t know how to follow-up to that. He just kind of looks like her like she grew a second head. Can this much change really happen in a hundred years or so? Why is her world so foreign from his?

But it doesn’t deter him. He listens intently to her stories about art in a hundred years. Cameras so small, they can fit in your pocket, so fast they can take a photo in a second. Artworks made not of canvas and paint, but of, again, this “digital” medium, which is accessible to nearly the entire world. And because of this “internet”, everyone who has it can both make and see art so easily—and they can fit these in their “cell phones”, hand-held telephones that can connect to nearly anyone… without wires!

And with each and every one of her attempts to explain the overwhelming time she used to come from, something inside Theo grows, a feeling he does not understand yet. It’s dizzying—but he cannot stop listening.

So he doesn’t stop answering either.

By the second week, whenever their schedule allows, he takes her to museums, introduces her to art movements that have flourished, are only beginning to flourish. Occasionally, she will point at one and say, “Oh, that one’s pretty famous in the future!” and Theo feels a sense of pride. The appreciation for art and beauty is one of the many things that transcends time—if the world allows it to.

He’s far from Comte’s level of elite, but he takes her to shops anyway, to see what things are in stores. The feeling that sits in Theo’s chest only grows as she points at things and says, “That’s a classic vintage piece. I’ve seen those a lot in museums,” and sooner than Theo would like, every mention of time gives him that feeling of distance, pulls her away from him.

So far away.

The fact keeps pressing itself into Theo’s brain, that she doesn’t belong here, she is only a tourist, she is only here for a short while.

The world is a gentler place in that time she is from. He doesn’t want to selfishly keep her here.

(But if he could, if she would, maybe, he wouldn’t be opposed to it.)

Shortly after a conversation about traveling from her home country to Paris in the 21st century—“You can get halfway across the world in half a day?” “Yeah, non-stop flights do that. 900 people in a single ride.” “…I find it hard to believe you.” “You don’t have to, it won’t change the fact.”—that last remark pushes Theo to finally, finally ask the question that he has held hesitantly in his mouth for the longest time.

“What’s it like, sitting here in the 19th century, knowing the future?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, her eyes shifting off to one side, away from Theo, as she ponders on his question. Theo takes this time to observe her instead—the way she holds herself up now, so comfortable, rather confident in her 19th century clothing, the little ways she’s learned the mannerisms apt for the time. She’s so different from the girl he’d seen that first night, trembling, afraid of a (well-meaning) nightmare.

Ah, yes, yet another reminder that she does not belong here.

Not with him. Not like this.

Theo snaps back into focus once she speaks. “It’s a little conflicting to me,” she begins. “I don’t know how time works, so somehow it both feels like much of it is already set in stone, but also there are so many more things that can change.” She turns to him, meeting his gaze. “But what I’m sure of is that everything you’re doing now is going to have an impact on the future—I guess I’ll see it when I get back.”

(Theo withers ever so slightly, but not enough for her to notice.)

She continues. “It’s a little scary too, because historically—well, I guess it’s not history yet, but, there are still a lot of bad things that will happen, in the next hundred years. So many.” She cringes. “But after that? There are also so many good things that will happen. Things that—well, I haven’t stayed long enough here to say for sure, but—I think many of the good things that will happen by then still seem unthinkable now. The same way you don’t believe me sometimes. But they will happen.”

And she’s so sure of it: tells him that millions of people of all ages, classes, and nationalities go to museums to enjoy art—even Vincent’s!—in the future. That some of them even get to go for free, that the world’s governments actually want people to be in any degree appreciative of art. She tells him how she could just look up a painting on her “cell phone” and she would already be able to experience it, in a way. She tells him that so much of the world revolves around art being accessible, that people don’t even think about it too much anymore. It’s just normal.

“You won’t believe it, Theo,” she says. “Art is everywhere.”

She reminds him of the sunrise.

The sunrise he’s long dreamt of—the dawn of the new era of Art, in a better world where artists are free to make what they want to make, to showcase their work, to continuously push the barriers of the human understanding of beauty and creation. The fact that she’s come from that time doesn’t only make her a reminder of it—but also an assurance, that all of this will pay off, that he is making a difference.

He may not have been one of the chosen ones, the gifted ones, who had extraordinary talents, who could, with a wave of their hand, change the turning of the world, influence society, but—he has something he can do.

And she believes in him.

Why does it make him feel so much steadier just knowing she believes in him?

He is no one. He is nobody important. They can give him names now, call him the Phantom of Goupil, but in the long stretch of time after this, in a hundred years, in a thousand—he will be no one. History will eventually forget his name—and Theo has long accepted this truth. And if he doesn’t have much to offer to time, he has much less for her. The 19th century is no match to the 21st century’s innovations and astonishing development. He is just a plain man from a backwards time.

But at some point in the past few weeks with her, that feeling he’s once again started to ask if he could reclaim has grown in him. The desire to be remembered.

Not by the world, not by history—just by her.

Even a hundred years into the future.

There are a lot of things Theo doesn’t know yet about what’s to come. But if there is one thing about art that he knows is consistent across time, it’s that a single piece of art has the power to change something fundamental in people: the way they see life, the way they see art, the way they think about the world, the way they feel. A fateful encounter not only with the piece of art itself, but with the moment in which one meets it. The feeling that rushes, that consumes, the recognition: that one’s life has now been altered, irrevocably, by that one piece of art.

It is falling in love, but greater.

Theo really thought he would never find the capacity to ever feel that way again. That that moment, with that painting, is the pinnacle of what his heart can take.

But now he knows he isn’t.

Now he knows it isn’t, so he prays.

He doesn’t have much to give, but he prays.

That maybe she will give him the taste of it. Carve the shape of it in his mouth.

Down his throat. Chase it down into the pit of his belly where the acid of his self-resentment remains. Let it echo in his veins.

And if she does—his voice will scramble will to make sense of the sound, and he will settle for other ways to let himself be heard, the strained vocal cords of his heart, calling her hondje, knabbeltje, the only way he knows how. To say “this is for you.” To tell her how good she’s been to him, so obedient. To scoff at her rebuttals. To join in her laughter. To tell her things only the hollow in the center of his chest he’d long shouted at have ever heard.

Oh, she doesn’t even need to ask.

The fact dissolves like something bitter turning sweet, sweet, impossibly sweet on his tongue.

She doesn’t need to do much of anything: she just needs to stay.

To forgive his grumbling, his shaking footsteps, his frequent step-backs into a past that has long left him behind. To look back over her shoulder, call out his name in the star-like lilt of her voice, Theo?

And he will give her everything.

---

in the atelier: The Girl with the Pearl Earring, by Johannes Vermeer, 1665.

this is just a fun trivia thing, but the title "the Girl with the Pearl Earring" (Meisje met de parel in Dutch) was apparently only given to the painting in 1995. i didn't find what it was called much earlier (it was auctioned somewhere in the Hague in 1881, bought by a private collector), but after it was transferred to the Mauritshuis (also in the Hague) in 1902, it was called "Girl with a Turban" (Meisje met tulband). that's kind of why i decided to go for the more obscure / older name.