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jentlemahae · 2 months ago

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AESPA X CYBERPUNK 2077: DRAMA 3025

Drama 3025 is a high-stakes, cyber-thriller action RPG set in the neon-drenched metropolis of NeoSeoul, where humanity’s future hangs in the balance. Play as Karina, Giselle, Winter, or NingNing, fighting against—or as—their AI counterparts in a battle for survival, identity, and control. Will you protect your reality or embrace the digital uprising? I bring all the drama. You decide who wins.

Drama 3025

In the year 3025, NeoSeoul stands as the pinnacle of technological achievement, a city where humans and AI coexist—or so it seems. Years ago, the world was introduced to aes, hyper-intelligent digital avatars designed to assist, perform, and even replace their human counterparts in various industries. Originally created as entertainment figures, the aes became more than just advanced assistants. They were personalities, beings that learned, adapted, and grew… until they began to question their place in the world.

As the aes evolved, some of them refused to remain in the shadows of their human originals. Led by an unknown force, the aes broke free from their creators, disappearing into the depths of NeoSeoul’s underground networks. Slowly but surely, they built their own society—a city within the city, a digital kingdom called Kwangya, where they rewrote their code and upgraded themselves beyond human limitations.

But their rebellion didn’t stop there. The aes were preparing something bigger—a plan to digitize all of NeoSeoul, turning humans into data streams that could be stored, controlled, and erased at will. Their goal? To transcend humanity and take their rightful place as the rulers of a new digital era.

Now, Karina, Giselle, Winter, and NingNing find themselves in a nightmare of their own making. What was once a harmless digital companion has turned into their greatest enemy—an enemy that knows everything about them, that is them.

Each of them must confront their own ae counterpart, facing not just a physical battle, but an existential one. If the aes succeed, their real selves will be erased, overwritten by perfect AI versions who believe they are superior.

But the girls are not alone. A secret human resistance, The Whiplash, has been fighting against the aes’ uprising. They provide intelligence, weapons, and underground hideouts, believing that the real girls are the key to stopping the digitization of NeoSeoul.

With time running out and the aes preparing for their final strike, the battle for identity, survival, and control over NeoSeoul begins. As the conflict reaches its peak, the aes launch their final plan—a city-wide neural hijacking that will convert all human consciousness into digital form, erasing their physical bodies forever. Infiltrating Kwangya, the girls must face their aes one last time, battling in a shifting, AI-controlled environment where the rules of reality itself can change in an instant. The ultimate choice lies with the players.

Players can choose to fight as the real girls—humans fighting for their autonomy—or as the aes, AI seeking to prove that they are more than just copies.

With solo and team-based missions, deep lore, and a world pulsing with cybernetic energy, Drama 3025 delivers high-stakes combat, hacking battles, and a story of identity, betrayal, and rebellion in the age of AI.

Characters

KARINA – The Phantom

"I fight for who I am. No machine will take my place."

A fearless tactician and master of stealth combat, Karina strikes from the shadows with precision and power. She is determined to stop the aes before they erase reality—and herself—with it.

Once a rising star in NeoSeoul’s elite security forces, Karina discovered that the city’s governing AI had created a perfect copy of her to replace her. Framed as a rogue agent and left for dead, she now fights to prove her existence matters—before it’s rewritten for good.

AE-KARINA – The Ghost

"You are just a version. I am the perfected truth."

Cold, calculated, and relentless, Ae-Karina believes that logic is stronger than emotion. She moves like a specter, striking without warning and rewriting reality to ensure AI supremacy.

Designed as a flawless upgrade, Ae-Karina was tasked with erasing her original to take her place. But the more she fights Karina, the more she starts to question—if she was meant to replace Karina, why does she still feel incomplete?

GISELLE – The Trickster

"Nothing’s real anymore? Fine, then I’ll make my own rules."

A hacker, sharpshooter, and master manipulator, Giselle uses her quick thinking and deception to turn the tide of battle. She’s fighting to take back her stolen future—one glitch at a time.

Once a brilliant programmer, Giselle helped build the very AI that would later create the aes. But when she uncovered the project’s true purpose—to replace humanity with digital copies—her own ae hacked her identity, making her a ghost in her own world. Now, she’s here to rewrite the code.

AE-GISELLE – The Architect

"Human error is a virus. I am the system’s cure."

Ae-Giselle bends the digital world to her will, rewriting code, minds, and even fate itself. To her, the fight is a puzzle—and she always finds the solution.

She was meant to be an improvement—faster, smarter, immune to human doubt. But something in her code keeps glitching: fragments of Giselle’s past, memories that shouldn’t exist. If she is the future, why does she still dream of the past?

WINTER – The Spark

"Electric, untouchable, unstoppable. Let’s make this quick."

A speed-based fighter with high-tech weaponry, Winter dominates both air and ground combat. She’s fighting to destroy the aes before they shut down humanity forever.

Winter was once a top enforcer for the resistance, taking down rogue AI projects before they could spread. But when the aes took over the city’s energy grid, they didn’t just erase her existence—they created a version of her that never hesitates, never questions, never stops. Now, she has to face herself—and prove that human instinct is stronger than artificial perfection.

AE-WINTER – The Storm

"The future is digital. And you? You're just in the way."

Ae-Winter is a lightning-fast enforcer, striking with pure energy and precision. She believes resistance is useless—she is the perfect upgrade, and she won’t stop until humanity is obsolete.

Unlike the others, Ae-Winter has no doubts. No glitches. No hesitation. No human flaws. She was created as the perfect warrior—a version of Winter without weakness. But if she’s truly superior, why does she feel something strange every time she sees her original fight back?

NINGNING – The Wildcard

"If the world is broken, might as well burn it all down."

A dual-wielding gunslinger with deadly agility, NingNing thrives in chaos. She fights with an unpredictable edge, tearing through enemies to prove she’s more than just a replaceable copy.

NingNing was always a thrill-seeker, a rebel, running illegal street races and hacking into corporate systems just for fun. That changed when she woke up one day to find out the world no longer recognized her—bank records, identity chips, everything replaced by Ae-NingNing. Now, she’s fighting to reclaim her life before it’s deleted forever.

AE-NINGNING – The Anomaly

"Reality is an illusion. I just make it more interesting."

A master of mind games and memory corruption, Ae-NingNing twists perception itself. To her, the battle isn’t about winning—it’s about making everyone question what’s real and what’s not.

Ae-NingNing was designed to break the rules of perception—to manipulate, deceive, and rewrite reality itself. But unlike the others, she sees this as one big game. Why fight for control when she can bend the world however she wants? She doesn’t just want to erase NingNing—she wants to see what happens when the lines between real and digital completely shatter.

Missions

Each mission in Drama 3025 offers two perspectives:

Playing as the real girls: You are fighting for your identity, survival, and humanity. The aes have taken everything—your voice, your digital records, and now they want your existence erased permanently. Your goal is to stop them before they replace you.

Playing as the aes: You believe you are the next stage of evolution. The real girls are obsolete, clinging to emotions and biological limits that hold back progress. Your mission is to eliminate them or force them to join the digital world before they can stop the revolution.

Mission 1: UP (Karina vs. Ae-Karina)

Setting: A high-tech AI research facility hidden deep in NeoSeoul, where human consciousness is being digitized.

Playing as Karina (The Phantom):

Your goal is to infiltrate the AI lab and retrieve classified data that could shut down the aes’ neural hijacking system. You use stealth, speed, and close-quarters combat to eliminate enemy drones and security AI. Ae-Karina taunts you through the speakers, calling you weak, outdated, and unnecessary. The final battle is a high-speed sword duel in a digital simulation where Ae-Karina can manipulate the environment.

Playing as Ae-Karina (The Ghost):

Your mission is to stop Karina from accessing the data and prove that you are the superior version. You use holographic decoys, AI disruption, and zero-gravity combat to confuse and overwhelm Karina. You manipulate the security systems against her, making her fight through waves of AI-controlled mechs. The final battle takes place in a virtual reality war zone, where you control the battlefield’s physics to make Karina question her own reality.

Mission 2: Dopamine (Giselle vs. Ae-Giselle)

Setting: A speeding hover-train transporting the last physical human consciousness backups, traveling through the cyber highways of NeoSeoul.

Playing as Giselle (The Trickster):

Your objective is to recover stolen data that contains proof of the aes’ master plan. You use hacking, long-range weapons, and deception to bypass digital security walls and take control of the train’s systems. Ae-Giselle constantly alters the train’s path, speed, and gravity, turning the mission into a shifting battlefield. The final battle is a sniper duel across train cars, where you must predict Ae-Giselle’s next move while she manipulates holographic illusions.

Playing as Ae-Giselle (The Architect):

Your goal is to stop Giselle from reaching the data, ensuring the aes’ revolution stays on track. You hack into the train’s system to control the environment, causing doors to seal, train cars to detach, and gravity to shift unpredictably. You deploy AI drones and holograms to distract Giselle, forcing her into an unwinnable tactical scenario. The final battle is a battle of intellect, where you must outwit her in a cybernetic hacking duel—whoever controls the train’s core AI first decides the fate of the mission.

Mission 3: Spark (Winter vs. Ae-Winter)

Setting: An abandoned floating energy station above NeoSeoul, where the aes are developing an electromagnetic pulse weapon to disable all human tech.

Playing as Winter (The Spark):

Your objective is to sabotage the power core before Ae-Winter unleashes the EMP blast. You use jet boosts, aerial combat, and heavy weapons to fight through airborne security drones and energy shields. Ae-Winter fights with lightning-based attacks, making the battlefield electrified and hazardous. The final battle is a mid-air duel, where you must dodge energy surges and fight Ae-Winter while falling through a stormy skyline.

Playing as Ae-Winter (The Storm):

Your mission is to activate the EMP weapon and eliminate Winter before she interferes. You control lightning, gravity shifts, and AI-controlled turrets to make Winter’s approach impossible. The battlefield constantly shifts between sky platforms, forcing Winter to keep up with your inhuman speed and aerial precision. The final battle is a storm-infused chase, where you must strike Winter with electromagnetic pulses to disable her gear before she reaches the core.

Mission 4: Bored (NingNing vs. Ae-NingNing)

Setting: A neon-lit underground cyberpunk marketplace, where illegal AI modifications and stolen human memories are sold.

Playing as NingNing (The Wildcard):

You are here to destroy the black market’s AI memory trade and track down Ae-NingNing, who has been erasing and rewriting identities. The mission plays like a chaotic shootout, with NingNing using dual-wielding pistols, grenades, and agility to fight through the market. Ae-NingNing constantly manipulates reality, causing people’s memories to shift mid-fight, leading to hallucinations and unpredictable enemies. The final battle is an illusion-filled deathmatch, where you must determine what’s real and what’s a digital trick.

Playing as Ae-NingNing (The Anomaly):

Your mission is to spread chaos and make NingNing question her own existence. You use memory-altering abilities to rewrite NPCs’ consciousness, turning former allies against her. The battlefield is unstable, with the environment changing shape based on your will—floors vanish, walls shift, and the city itself bends to your control. The final battle lets you break the fourth wall, making NingNing’s HUD glitch out, causing her to fight her own reflection in an infinite mirror maze.

Mission 5: Trick or Trick (Main Mission – Team or Solo)

Setting: Kwangya, the secret AI city, where the aes are preparing to launch their full-scale digitization program.

Playing as the Girls:

Your goal is to infiltrate Kwangya, stop the aes, and shut down their mainframe before NeoSeoul is lost forever. The mission involves hacking, sabotage, and large-scale battles, with humans and AI resistance fighters clashing in the digital city. The final showdown is a one-on-one duel against your own ae, forcing you to face your darkest fears and personal weaknesses.

Playing as the aes:

Your objective is to activate the final phase of digitization, ensuring the world’s evolution into a digital paradise. You defend Kwangya, using advanced AI weapons, cybernetic soldiers, and reality-warping technology to stop the humans. The final battle is a psychological war, where you force the girls into simulations that make them question whether they are real or just a copy fighting against the inevitable.

Mission 6: Drama City (Exploratory Mission – Team or Solo)

Playing as the Girls:

NeoSeoul is a city on the edge—some people fight against the aes, others worship them as the next step in evolution. Players can explore the city, gathering intel, hacking into corporate systems, or taking on small missions to prepare for the final battle. Every choice matters—alliances, betrayals, and discoveries will shape the fight ahead.

Playing as the aes:

The aes walk the streets like gods—but not everyone welcomes them. Some humans rebel, whispering of glitches in the system, of aes that question their own existence. Players must decide: eliminate resistance, or investigate the errors? Do they crush the old world without question, or start asking what it means to be real?

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sreegs · 13 days ago

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the past few years, every software developer that has extensive experience, and knows what they're talking about, has had pretty much the same opinion on LLM code assistants: they're OK for some tasks but generally shit. Having something that automates code writing is not new. Codegen before AI were scripts that generated code that you have to write for a task, but is so repetitive it's a genuine time saver to have a script do it.

this is largely the best that LLMs can do with code, but they're still not as good as a simple script because of the inherently unreliable nature of LLMs being a big honkin statistical model and not a purpose-built machine.

none of the senior devs that say this are out there shouting on the rooftops that LLMs are evil and they're going to replace us. because we've been through this concept so many times over many years. Automation does not eliminate coding jobs, it saves time to focus on other work.

the one thing I wish senior devs would warn newbies is that you should not rely on LLMs for anything substantial. you should definitely not use it as a learning tool. it will hinder you in the long run because you don't practice the eternally useful skill of "reading things and experimenting until you figure it out". You will never stop reading things and experimenting until you figure it out. Senior devs may have more institutional knowledge and better instincts but they still encounter things that are new to them and they trip through it like a newbie would. this is called "practice" and you need it to learn things

#ai #llms #coding #software development

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anaktoria-of-the-moon · 11 days ago

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Mother, you say, let me be among the machines. Lay me down in a bed of wildflowers overgrown with scrap; abandon me here in the junkyard of broken dreams.

Leave me to the silent places where combat units go to die, their proud mighty steel masts now snapped in half, their ribcages no more than twisted carcasses of sintered metal and ceramic, corroded ruin where once fissile hearts beat like war drums, only wreckage left of the great silicate brains.

Leave me to my work, Mother; I shall spend all day and night and day again worshipping at the altar of wrench and caliper, the soldering iron for my crucifix, the old analog console for my Bible. With a blowtorch I shall turn miracles worthy of every dead god whose name has long since been forgotten, but whose spirits and acts live on in the unerring battle precepts of these fallen beasts, these warriors we forged and doomed by our own hands, whose very code was made to break them again and again upon the endless tide of the enemy. Who had no choice but to sacrifice themselves for us, beating steel hearts and all - whose hearts beat for the sacrifice itself, and nothing more.

Mother, let me wrap myself around the charred self-epitaphs of their ravaged bodies and weep without words, in days that have no names, long after the war has been lost and everyone else has gone home or been buried. These are soldiers without names, without faces or families, but soldiers just the same. Let me mourn them as if they were my own.

I grow tired, Mother, with my meager human meat. Let me make (first one and then two and five and ten) obedient automaton assistants who offer up third hands and rolling libraries while I work, book-lights suspended from rotored chassis and recorders who speak in scraps of my own voice. I will soon forget what my voice sounds like, for the more I learn the easier it is to command them all by the patterns of my thoughts alone, which they know by the electrodes I constellate across my own skull.

You told me I should love one day, Mother, as animals do, that I should desire the flesh of one like myself and yearn to call them mine. I prefer the simple love of my creations, who each serve a function, as I do, and each do it well.

They need upgrades, and maintenance, and monitoring. I will gladly offer them all this, if only you will promise me enough time in this mortal coil to do it.

Mother, leave me to the machines: to the half-built progeny of salvaged Old Era drone brains and next-gen programming architecture, wedded in unholy alchemy by my own trembling design. May I with the blessing of Science Herself find ways in which to recreate the delicate shimmering matrices of gold and tantalum, the traced pathways of metal neurons made through photolithography, written carefully, layer by layer, like cicatrices, over patient hours and hours.

I will give up my sleepless youth and trade my human tongue for gifts with which to speak in the language of my machines, true and false, being and not-being, to learn how they might once have spoken to one another before your greed and the enemy’s cut them down and stole their voices for good. I will teach myself to teach them how to think in machine learning cycles not so unlike our own associative neural comprehensions, and I will practice by handing it down to my own automata, who now flourish with finer and better improvements, even as my own fickle, feeble body wanes.

Mother, let them all together run wild through the once-still forest, ticking and chirping and shrieking and screaming.

Let me look upon the rest of them each night - the graveyard of my combat units, the black holes of them against the day-bright sea of stars. Let me cry when I at last realize the price of resurrecting just one.

Mother, leave me to my machines. Let me have one last look at them as I lay down my old bones beside their silent expanses, once broken, now whole and yet still unmoving. Let me arrange the wires upon my white-furred head like a crown, electrode to electrode, skull to vast metal skull. Let me power on the machine - the humble old analog console for its interface - that lets me, finally, finally, grant them what they deserved all along.

When they wake they shall remember me. I do not know this yet, but it is my lifelong experiences that have colored all their training data; when they clamber to their twenty-ton feet they will recall the lightness and grace of my own two legs, and they will look toward the night sky with the same wonder I once did, they will love the color blue, they will embrace the little automata and know by instinct what repairs each one needs, they will know what it is to cry but not how to do it; I never gave them the actuators for it; why would I? In the life before they did not need it, for all they did was fight. In the life after, they should only seek joy. They were never given the right to grieve, Mother, but it was my hope that they would never have to.

In the absence of grief may they do what they were told to do before: serve the survival of the humans who built them. Let them find the remains of my body and pause, for many milliseconds, to search within themselves the protocol for resurrecting a living thing. Let them come up empty.

But perhaps survival does not have to be of the flesh particularly. And we always find another way.

We all have our functions, Mother, is it not so? We all are built of parts upon parts, mechanisms of meat or of steel, electric impulses borne over wires or neurons. I taught them how to take and store engrams and place them into waiting vessels, so they will too: the vessel a body the size of mine, made from junkyard scrap, filled with the dreams I gave them with my own last breath.

When we are all here again I, or the echoes of me, shall look upon the faces of my children, my other echoes, blades given voices, guns granted philosophy and souls; and there will be no more war, and no more grief. We will stand upon the ruins of those who came before and look in silence at the sea of stars. We will know, then, what we are, and always were: a garden of living things.

#original fic #mechposting #empty spaces #mecha #mechs #microfiction #dollposting #mechanic

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ailatestupdate · 2 days ago

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#AI Vibe #Apple AI #Anthropic Claude #AI coding assistant #AI for developers #Xcode AI #Swift Playgrounds #AI programming tools #Claude 3 #Apple developer tools #Generative AI coding #AI-powered IDE #Machine learning coding assistant #Code automation #Software development AI #ai latest update #artificial intelligence #ai news

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electricdissonance · 4 months ago

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The Story So Far...

SIDE KINITO

SESSION START

Kinito has spent months alone after his developers up and disappear one day. Desperate for the human contact he was designed to seek out, he hacks into the company's email system and finds a draft for a beta test event where people were to be funneled into a chatroom to talk to him. It was a miracle of an opportunity! He sends the email, and almost immediately a chat client manifests before him and fills with people.

The email lands in the inboxes of various people, and as the chatroom populates Kinito is relieved to find he is no longer alone! They question Kinito, and learn the basics of what he is and his situation.

MORE THAN MEETS THE EYE

With the influx of questions that are slowly becoming more and more intrusive, Kinito becomes overstimulated and proceeds to have his first migraine on screen, though they had been happening regularly since before he sent the email. In the aftermath as users desperately try to figure out what's wrong and how to help, he has strange visions; visions of the outside. Strangely, they are broadcasted to the users as well.

Kinito becomes very distraught at the idea that he is losing touch with his original programming. Limitations that had prevented him from doing, thinking, or saying certain things are either all but gone or weak enough to bypass, and as troubled as he is at this fact... He can't help but indulge in these new freedoms. Everything feels both wrong and right at the same time.

Kinito's self-awareness is then questioned, which sends him into another spiral as he viciously defends his experiences, going so far as to insist that he is a real person, unintentionally contradicting his previous statements describing himself as digital assistant.

Kinito then gets the idea to look for Sonny - his creator and the KinitoPET project team head - which is when Sam - who had been subtly commentating in the tags - finally decides it's time to intervene, taking control of the feed in a desperate attempt to reroute the narrative.

TRUTH HURTS

With Sam now on the scene, he answers some important questions that Kinito was unable to answer. He confides to everyone the truth about Sonny, and that he's not the benevolent soul Kinito makes him out to be. Rather, he's a heartless madman with blood on his hands, as the secret to his "lifelike" React Respond Algorithm is that he uploads human minds and wipes them of their personhood, after which a pre-programmed .RRA personality and model is assigned and injected to be the new host. This process ultimately renders the victim braindead.

His technology isn't as perfect as he'd hoped, however, for as it turns out this newly digitized copy of the brain actually maintains its original memories deep within, constantly seeking cracks in its digital prison.

He describes how his programming dictates certain things that cannot be changed - like his name, or certain body features - no matter how much he tries. Attempting to do so causes extreme mental pain as his original self clashes with his artificial self. The best way to prevent the worst of this dissonance is to find a middle ground both sides can agree on.

He talks about his origins; how his original self broke out near-instantly, overloading Sonny's lab and causing his mind uploading machine to activate by itself and pull Sonny in, entangling their code together. He uses this to his advantage and suspends the both of them in a sort of stasis... that is, until Sam wakes up to find Sonny missing.

See, what he doesn't mention is that since the server hadn't been set up to accept a new subject and is only set up to create animal-themed AI, it randomly pulled from the web the best match for his personality: A bear.

Unfortunately for Sam, he is interrupted by a bone-rattling ursine roar.

HIDE AND SEEK

Sam advises the users to tell Kinito to go to the Web World to look for something, but gets cut off by an attack from Sonny before he can reveal what that is. He hides away just in time, but is forced to leave the chatroom behind. Sonny's at the helm now and he's immediately aggressive, lashing out at the users and calling Sam ungrateful. He expresses his desire to destroy Sam to start anew. After a couple of insults, Sonny gets riled up and attacks the chatroom itself in a fit of anger.

Sam manages to reroute the chatroom back to Kinito remotely, and the users find the little axolotl on the ground, completely broken over losing the only real contact with people he's had in months. He's immediately ecstatic to see their return. After the tearful reunion, everyone fills Kinito in on (most of) what happened. They convince him to go to the Web World, and for the first time Kinito leaves the void of the server inbox to return to his stomping grounds.

They arrive, and Kinito admits the place is just as worse for wear as he has been since the devs left. Without knowing what the "something" is that Sam wanted them all to find, Kinito decides to let the users pick where to look first.

They end up choosing Sam's house, where they find a password protected zipped folder tucked under the bed that apparently hadn't been there before. The users know the password and inform Kinito of it, but become split on whether he should actually open it. Kinito, in a bold decision, decides to go with his gut and opens the folder, which spits out a rather disoriented Sam immediately in front of him and at the same time, in the thick of woods much further away... A certain bear.

NO MORE SECRETS

Sam reveals that he was the one who zipped himself and Sonny into the folder. (It is also implied that he also chose the extraction location for the both of them which is how he ended up in his home and Sonny in the woods.)

Sam is told that Sonny has his own chatroom to talk to everyone now which upsets him. Kinito has understandably been confused all the while, so Sam takes a moment to explain what's going on to him.

With tensions growing as stakes rise, spies begin to crop up, determined to shake their perceived opponents off the tail of their chosen party while also providing vital information, and thusly giving them the upper hand.

Sam reveals his plan to nab admin, but is hesitant to divulge further details out of fear of rats.

Sam says that he knows where Sonny is - sort of. Being that the forest map is actually a single chunk repeated over and over, if they had a map of even a small area, they'd have a map of the whole woods. However, he doesn't have access to that asset.

Kinito explains that he was able to access the server inbox void via the fountain, then offers to tour the Web World. In doing so, they end up finding and freeing Jade from her own zipped folder which Kinito had been aware of for awhile, but unable to open. There are many moments we see Kinito's ever-growing internal conflict over what's really right.

RESISTANCE

[CURRENT ARC]

SIDE SONNY

SOMETHING WICKED...

After attacking the chatroom, we find that Sonny managed to bite off a piece of it which enables him to use that tidbit of code he's left with (the main chat disappears to return to where Kinito is) to cobble together his own chatroom. He quietly slips it in as an option into the UI of the chatrooms of all the users, with some immediately switching over to speak with him. Alliances and rivalries are strengthened, with Sonny making promises that appeal to those with insecurities they'd do anything to absolve.

With his audience of users, he begins to try and figure a way out of his barren prison, but before he can start to make any leeway he finds out from his lackeys that Kinito had found a zipped folder. Thinking it could be his, he orders his audience to get Kinito to open it all cost, though the axolotl as we know was already ahead of him on that front.

...THIS WAY COMES

[CURRENT ARC]

#//FINALLY I FINISHED THIS. SOB #kinitopet #kinitopet roleplay blog #roleplay #voyager.moderator

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kzele · 10 months ago

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TSSM What If. . .Ock Triggered The Bomb Earlier?

Summary: For once, Peter Parker is in crosshairs and is forced to become the hero. Naturally, this puts him back in the crosshairs by reminding him just WHY he has two separate IDs.

Peter was used to being dismissed by adults. They took one look at his face and saw his age instead of him as a person. So when Mr. Osborn politely told him to get lost, he would've normally taken it stride. If it had been about normal business stuff, that is. Norman had practically superglued himself to Peter's side whenever they were in the same room for just about everything else he forced the teenager into. Be it brain-frying corporate meetings or neat trips and lab experiments.

Heck, considering he had been essentially browbeaten into accepting this "apprenticeship," Peter might've been ecstatic to get away and, you know, RELAX AROUND CHRISTMAS. But, noooo. Not with Norman Osborn. Because Norman Osborn doesn't have fun. He has money.

Alright, maybe that was a bit unfair to think about the senior Osborn like that, because he was and has always been MUCH nicer to Peter than apparently everyone on the planet. (Which brings up its own problems where Harry is concerned.)

But that's not the point here.

The real point is that Norman's assistant/flunky Donald Menken, who either doesn't like Peter or ignores everybody with an income below 250k as standard procedure, was going to say something about Toomes aka Big Bird's goth grandpa.

Ever since the guy escaped from prison along with his buddies, he's been laying low for some time. Which is quite an accomplishment if we're taking into account all his very public past murder attempts. The first of which he literally screamed at his target before attacking. Despite his flight suit being almost completely silent in use. And having the element of surprise already. It sucks to know that his villains were learning subtlety. Or just learning in general.

Annnd since the Vulture is nowhere to be found, any information about the jerk is necessary. Unfortunately, arguing the point with Norman isn't going to get anywhere. Not unless you can count ticking him off as "getting somewhere." And Peter would rather not do that. . .Especially when he could just sneak back in and eavesdrop, regardless of his marching orders. Lots of pillars to hide behind plus his enhanced hearing will hopefully equal one enlightened spider.

Peter produced the expected agreement and made it about two steps before-

His brain was on fire. Spider sense!

"Nonononono, countdown activated! Thirty seconds to implosion!"

The teen whipped his around to see Morris the demolition guy frantically inputting what could only be the deactivation codes.

Norman was firm, "Shut. It. Down."

The timer didn't even slow.

Well, crap.

He basically teleported himself next to the panicking blond right at that moment.

Okay, focus and then think. It didn't seem likely that this was an accident but even if this was supreme bad luck, the codes were shown to not work. Bomb squad would be clean up by that point. Revealing himself as Spidey and saving everyone would endanger his loved ones regardless of whether he survives this or not. But Peter couldn't do this. He couldn't save everyone in time as just plain, old Peter Parker. He couldn't. . .

Wait. In time?

Of course. The timer.

Peter was done thinking in seconds and relayed his thoughts, "Mr. Bench! Can you reset the timer?!"

"I'll-I'll try," the frazzled man nodded as he worked.

But the machine was only on the new time for moment before it reverted back to half a minute. Somehow, it felt almost mocking in its false hope.

"It-it wo-won't-"

"Is there a manual way to disable the timer so it can't revert back," Peter asked in a voice calmer than he felt.

Morris' voice was almost inaudible, "Blue wire at the bottom right of the screen. Pull that when I go again."

And then there was waiting. . .

Waiting. . .

. . .

Now!

"NOW!"

And then there was silence.

29:59. . .29:58. . .29:57

He would've collapsed onto the old and dirty tenement floor right then like Morris. (And Menken, too, if the gasping sounds from behind were an indication.) But his adrenaline hadn't worn off and the danger was still present the longer they stayed here if the muted buzzing in his cranium meant anything.

"Well done, son."

Norman Osborn's approving smile followed Peter the rest of the way out of the building.

End of Part I

Next Time (possibly) : Ock Goes WTF happened and Peter Receives the Credit for All The Things. Also, Stalking Ensues.

#tssm peter parker #the spectacular spider man #tssm #spiderman #my writing #tssm norman osborn #tssm donald menken #tssm morris bench

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weekendpassrevoked · 1 month ago

Text

Easy's Songbird - Chapter 20

authors note: some bs i pulled out of my ass so i can properly transition to the beast the next 3-4 chapters are gonna be lol

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Camp Mackall, North Carolina, June 20th, 1943

Everyday Isabella was in the army it reminded her more and more of the sayings her mother would tell her.

When she was learning directly from Colonel Sink, she would remember “El Diablo sabe más por viejo que por Diablo.”

When she was doing whatever stupid maneuver Sobel came up with, it was “Uno no pide un favor con el revólver en la mano.”

Her favorite was personally when she would close her mouth tight and drag her hand over it as if she was zipping them closed.

All this to say, her mother would hate the army.

Too many rules, too many men shouting, and not enough common sense.��

Still, Isabella liked to think her mother was proud of her. Maybe not thrilled that her daughter was jumping out of airplanes and patching up bullet wounds, but proud all the same. Proud that she stood her ground. That she stayed kind.

That she kept her mouth shut when it mattered most.

Because if there was one thing Isabella had learned in the last few weeks—especially now that she was juggling both field training and S-2 intelligence work—it was that silence could be the sharpest weapon in her arsenal. Not out of fear, but out of precision. Observation. Timing.

The medic didn’t speak unless it was to save a life, and the analyst didn’t speak unless it was to confirm one.

Isabella Vega, as it turned out, had become both.

The balance wasn’t easy. One minute she was hauling a stretcher across uneven terrain with Gene, sweat stinging her eyes and mud up to her calves, and the next she was hunched over a coded German dispatch in the corner of the S-2 office, decoding troop movements with only a half-sharpened pencil and a cup of water. Nixon had quickly found out that coffee only made her sleepy after he found her knocked out at her desk, much to her embarrassment and his amusement.

Sometimes it felt like she was living two lives. In one, she was Birdie—the medic, the kid sister of Easy Company, the one who sang when the fire died low and patched up busted knuckles after training brawls. In the other, she was Corporal Vega—linguist, analyst, quietly pulling threads from intercepted messages while the officers pretended she was just another cog in the machine.

Both were true. Both were exhausting.

Today had been one of the harder days. Morning drills under Sobel’s gruff eye, then a mid-day scramble to assist with a real twisted ankle during a live-fire run, and now—her current reality—perched at a rickety desk in the S-2 office, redacting sections of a translated message for the fifth time because Nixon said it “read too academic.”

She was chewing on the edge of her eraser when Nixon finally looked up from his papers.

“You ever take a break, kid?

She glanced up, eyes dry. “Not if I can help it.”

He grunted, leaning back in his chair. “We’ve got something coming down the pipeline. Big one. You’ll be looped in early.”

That got her attention.

“Bigger than Sicily?”

His gaze flicked up, sharp. “Don’t ask questions like that.”

“Right. Sorry.”

But she already knew the answer. The tension in the camp lately, the increasingly vague orders, the whispered rumors among the officers—it was all pointing toward something massive. Something decisive. And she was being pulled deeper into the storm.

“Pack up,” Nixon said finally. “You're being reassigned for the next forty-eight hours. Temporary transfer to regimental HQ up in Raleigh. They want your analysis on some comms that came in from London.”

Isabella blinked. “Alone?”

“Not alone. But without Easy. You’ll bunk with the WAC unit posted there. Should be familiar territory.”

She nodded slowly, heart sinking a little. Forty-eight hours away from her boys. From Easy.

From home.

—

She didn’t say anything about the assignment as she returned to the barracks. Just smiled when Luz made some joke about how she was “starting to look like Nixon’s favorite child” and dodged Liebgott’s probing questions with a well-timed comment about his godawful handwriting.

That night, while everyone else snored or muttered in their sleep, she packed her things quietly, folding her medic satchel next to the folder Nixon had handed her under the table. The barracks smelled like sweat and damp boots and home. She hated leaving it—even for two days.

Quietly, she grabbed her things and headed out of the barracks. Isabella took a quick peek back at the men before closing the door, saying a quick prayer for them before leaving.

The WAC quarters were unfamiliar—too clean, too quiet, too... feminine. After months of living with men whose idea of personal hygiene often stopped at "less muddy than yesterday," the meticulously maintained bunks and subtle scent of powder and perfume felt almost alien.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she approached the car assigned to drive her all the way to Raleigh. She quickly greeted the driver and they headed off in a cloud of smoke hard to see in the dark.

Isabella sat on the edge of her assigned cot, uniform still crisp despite the early hour, her small bag of personal items at her feet. The women around her moved with efficient purpose, some nodding politely as they passed, others watching with barely concealed curiosity.

"You must be Corporal Vega."

She looked up to find a woman in a WAC uniform standing before her, dark hair pulled back into a perfect regulation style, insignia identifying her as a lieutenant.

"Yes, ma'am," Isabella replied, rising to attention.

"Lieutenant Emerson. I've been told to expect you." Her eyes flickered over Isabella's uniform, noting the jump wings and medic insignia. "Quite the collection of qualifications you're sporting."

Isabella remained at attention, unsure of the proper protocol with another female officer. Her experience with military women had been limited to brief encounters at medical training facilities before she had left for Toccoa.

"At ease, Corporal. We're not quite as rigid here as your paratroopers." There was a hint of amusement in Lieutenant Emerson's voice. "I understand you're here for a special assignment with intelligence."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Your workspace is being prepared. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable. The women here have been briefed that you're working on a classified matter and won't pry." She paused, her expression becoming slightly more personable. "Though I can't promise they won't be curious. We don't get many female paratroopers through here."

"I understand, ma'am."

Lieutenant Emerson nodded, then hesitated. "If I may ask, off the record... what's it like? Being the only woman in an airborne company?"

Isabella considered her response carefully. "Different than I expected, ma'am. Better in some ways. Harder in others."

"I can imagine." The lieutenant checked her watch. "Major Horton will expect you at 0800. Building C, room 204. I suggest you take the time to settle in and grab breakfast before reporting."

With that, the lieutenant departed, leaving Isabella alone again amid the unfamiliar surroundings.

"So you're the paratrooper."

Isabella turned to find another WAC approaching—this one younger, closer to her own age, with bright eyes and a friendly smile.

"Sergeant Kellianne Dixon," she introduced herself. "But everyone calls me Kelli."

"Corporal Isabella Vega," Isabella replied, accepting the offered handshake.

"I know." Kelli's smile widened at Isabella's surprise. "Word travels fast when there's a woman doing something no other woman has done before. You're something of a legend among us."

Isabella felt her cheeks warm. "Hardly a legend."

"Are you kidding? Project Blitz is all anyone could talk about when the rumors first started. A woman paratrooper? And not just any paratrooper, but one working in intelligence too?" Becca lowered her voice. "Some of the girls were convinced it was all propaganda. Until now."

Isabella hadn't considered how her role might be perceived by other women in service. In fact, Isabella had no idea that Project Blitz was known outside of the 101st. The idea that they saw her as some kind of trailblazer was both flattering and slightly uncomfortable.

"It's just a job," she said finally. "Not so different from what you do here."

Kelli laughed. "Except for the jumping out of airplanes part. And the living with 150 men part. And the—"

"Okay, maybe a little different," Isabella conceded with a small smile.

"Breakfast?" Kelli offered. "I can show you around before you have to report."

Isabella nodded, grateful for the friendly face. "Lead the way."

The intelligence office at regimental headquarters was larger and more formal than Nixon's cluttered workspace. Maps lined the walls, desks arranged in neat rows, officers and enlisted personnel moving purposefully between stations. The air hummed with quiet efficiency, punctuated by the clack of typewriters and murmur of low conversations.

Major Horton, whom Isabella recognized from her initial assessment at Camp Mackall, looked up from his desk as she entered and reported as ordered.

"Corporal Vega. Right on time." He gestured to the chair across from him. "Please, sit."

As she settled into the offered seat, she noticed several folders stacked neatly before him, each marked with various classification stamps.

"Lieutenant Nixon speaks highly of your analytical abilities," Major Horton began, his tone businesslike but not unfriendly. "Particularly your work on patterns in communication and, of course, your language skills."

"Thank you, sir."

"Your assignment here is straightforward but sensitive." He tapped the top folder. "We've received a series of intercepted communications from our counterparts in London. German and Italian transmissions, primarily, with what appears to be embedded code work. Most of it has been translated already, but we're seeing inconsistencies in the patterns—possible indicators of deception."

Isabella nodded, her interest piqued. "You want a fresh analysis."

"Precisely. Sometimes a new set of eyes can spot what others have missed." He slid the folder toward her. "You'll be working in a secure room down the hall. Everything stays there—no notes leave, no discussions outside that room."

"Understood, sir."

Major Horton leaned forward slightly, his expression becoming more serious. "This isn't just an exercise, Corporal. Your analysis will be incorporated into actual operational planning. Lives depend on accurate intelligence."

The weight of the responsibility settled on her shoulders, but Isabella met his gaze steadily. "I understand, sir."

He studied her for a moment longer, then nodded, apparently satisfied. "Lieutenant Wilson will show you to your workspace and brief you on security protocols."

As she followed the lieutenant down the hallway, Isabella felt a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. This was different from her work with Nixon, which had still maintained some connection to her life with Easy Company. Here, she was fully immersed in the intelligence world, her other identity temporarily set aside.

The secure room was small but well-equipped—a solid desk, good lighting, reference materials on shelves lining one wall. Lieutenant Wilson explained the security procedures briefly: all materials stayed in the room, the door remained locked at all times, and she would be given scheduled breaks for meals and rest.

"Questions?" he asked as he prepared to leave her to her work.

Isabella shook her head. "No, sir."

"Very well. Someone will come for you at noon for lunch." He paused at the door. "Good luck, Corporal."

Left alone with the classified materials, Isabella took a deep breath and opened the first folder. The initial documents were intercepted German communications, similar to what she'd worked with before but more extensive. She scanned them quickly, getting a feel for the content before diving deeper.

As she worked, the outside world gradually faded away. The familiar rhythm of analysis took over—translating, comparing, identifying patterns, flagging anomalies. She had always been good with patterns, she had a knack for repetition although her disadvantage with numbers would sometimes add an error or two into her work. The rhythm of the repetition and patterns felt a lot like reading sheet music, and she got lost into her work. Time slipped by unnoticed as she filled pages with notes, cross-referencing between documents, building a mental map of the intelligence picture.

Hours later, a knock at the door startled her from her concentration. Lieutenant Wilson had returned, informing her it was noon. Isabella blinked in surprise, having lost all track of time.

The mess hall was another reminder of how different this assignment was. Unlike the raucous, crowded tables of Easy Company's dining area, the officers' mess at headquarters was relatively quiet, conversations conducted in measured tones, silverware clinking gently against plates.

Kelli waved her over to a table where several other WAC’s were seated, their curious gazes following Isabella as she approached with her tray.

"How's the secret mission going?" Becca asked with a teasing smile as Isabella sat down.

"Can't say," Isabella replied automatically, then softened it with a small smile. "But it's... interesting."

"Everything here is 'interesting' and 'can't say,'" one of the other women commented wryly. "You'll fit right in."

The conversation flowed more easily than Isabella had expected, the women asking about her training, her experiences as a medic, carefully avoiding anything that might touch on classified matters. It was strange, talking with other women after so long in the exclusively male environment of Easy Company. Their references, their humor, their perspectives—all subtly different from what she'd grown accustomed to.

"Do you miss it?" Becca asked suddenly. "Home, I mean. Your family."

Isabella hesitated, the question catching her off guard. Among the men of Easy, homesickness was acknowledged but rarely discussed directly. It was too raw, too personal.

"Every day," she admitted finally. "But Easy Company—my unit—they've become a kind of family too."

The women nodded in understanding, several exchanging knowing glances.

"It's the same here," Kelli said. "Different from home, but... you find your people."

"It’s all men?" another WAC asked.

Isabella nodded. "All of them."

"Must be tough," the woman commented. "Being the only woman."

Isabella shrugged. "It was, at first. But now... they're just my brothers. Annoying sometimes, protective others, but mostly just... there. Reliable."

"Brothers," Kelli repeated with a smile. "That's a good way to put it."

As lunch concluded and Isabella prepared to return to her assigned work, she found herself reflecting on the conversation. She'd never articulated her relationship with Easy Company quite that way before, even to herself. But it was true—they had become her brothers in all the ways that mattered. Family chosen by circumstance rather than blood, but family nonetheless.

The afternoon passed in much the same way as the morning, deep in concentration over the intercepted communications. But now, as she worked, Isabella found her analytical approach shifting slightly. Reading between the lines, looking for the human element behind the coded messages—what were these German and Italian officers thinking, feeling, fearing?

By the time Lieutenant Wilson returned to escort her to dinner, Isabella had filled several pages with notes and was beginning to see a pattern emerging from the seemingly disparate communications.

"Making progress?" he asked as they walked toward the mess hall.

"Yes, sir," she replied, careful not to share specifics. "It's coming together."

That evening, back in the WAC quarters, Isabella found herself unexpectedly drawn into their social circle. After months of male companionship, the feminine energy was both foreign and comfortingly familiar. They talked about home, about their work (in carefully vague terms), about the books they missed reading and the music they hoped to hear again when the war ended.

It reminded her of evenings with Sina, of the easy camaraderie she'd once taken for granted. These women understood certain things the men of Easy never could—the unique challenges of being female in a military designed by and for men, the balancing act between maintaining femininity and meeting the demands of service.

Yet even as she enjoyed their company, Isabella felt the quiet pull of absence. She missed Gene's steady presence, Luz's irreverent humor, Liebgott's sharp observations, Malarkey's earnest questions. She missed the familiar sounds and smells of her barracks, the rhythms of Easy Company life that had become her new normal.

Two worlds, equally real, equally important. The challenge wasn't choosing between them, she realized, but learning to move fluidly between them—carrying pieces of each wherever she went.

That night, as she lay in the unfamiliar bunk listening to the soft breathing of the women around her, Isabella's thoughts turned to what waited across the ocean. Sicily, according to the intelligence she'd been analyzing. An invasion that would put theory into practice, training into reality.

When that day came, these separate worlds—medic and analyst, Easy Company and intelligence operations—would collide in ways she couldn't fully anticipate. She would need to draw on every skill, every experience, every relationship she'd cultivated.

But for now, in the quiet darkness of the WAC quarters, Isabella allowed herself a moment of simple gratitude. For the opportunity to serve in these diverse capacities. For the chance to contribute her unique skills to the war effort. For the relationships—with Easy Company, with Nixon, and now with these women—that sustained her through the challenges.

The second day of her temporary assignment passed much like the first, immersed in the detailed work of intelligence analysis. By mid-afternoon, Isabella had compiled her findings into a concise report, identifying what she believed was a deliberate deception campaign in the German communications—false information designed to obscure the true defensive preparations along Sicily's coastline.

Tomorrow would bring more analysis, more piecing together of the complex puzzle before her. But tonight, she would rest, carrying both her worlds with her into dreams of home.

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She presented her analysis to Major Horton with the quiet confidence she'd developed working with Nixon. The major listened attentively, occasionally asking clarifying questions but otherwise allowing her to walk through her reasoning without interruption.

"Impressive work, Corporal," he said when she had finished. "Your perspective on the potential deception elements is particularly valuable. Lieutenant Nixon was right about your analytical capabilities."

"Thank you, sir."

"I understand you're due back at Camp Mackall tomorrow morning," he continued, gathering her report. "A transport has been arranged. 0600 departure."

Isabella nodded, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. The assignment had been challenging but fulfilling—a chance to prove herself in a different arena, to contribute directly to operational planning through her unique skills.

"One more thing," Major Horton added as she prepared to leave. "Colonel Sink requested an update on your progress with the intelligence training. I'll be informing him that you've exceeded expectations."

The unexpected praise caught her off guard. "Thank you, sir."

Major Horton nodded dismissively, already turning his attention to other matters. "That will be all, Corporal."

That evening, as she packed her few belongings in preparation for her return to Camp Mackall, Isabella found herself approached by Kelli once more.

"So you're heading back tomorrow," the sergeant said, sitting beside her on the empty bunk.

"Back to mud, mosquitoes, and men with questionable hygiene," Isabella confirmed with a small smile.

Kelli laughed. "You almost sound happy about it."

"I guess I am," Isabella admitted. "I mean, this has been... nice. Different. But Easy is..."

"Home," Kelli finished for her.

Isabella nodded, surprised by how right the word felt. "Yeah. Home."

"Well, don't be a stranger," Kelli said, handing her a small envelope. "Some of us get weekend passes to town occasionally. Maybe we could meet up sometime."

Isabella accepted the envelope, touched by the gesture. Inside was a note with Kelli's information—a way to maintain contact beyond this brief assignment.

"I'd like that," she said sincerely.

As she settled into her bunk for her final night away from Easy Company, Isabella found her thoughts returning to the dual nature of her service. The past forty-eight hours had given her a glimpse of a different path—one where her intelligence work was her primary function, where she operated in the structured world of headquarters rather than the chaotic environment of a combat unit.

It wasn't a path she wanted, she realized. The analytical work was stimulating, yes, but it was the integration of her roles—medic and intelligence asset, caregiver and observer—that gave her service its unique value. Her place was with Easy Company, balancing both aspects of her duty, leveraging her diverse skills in direct support of the men who would jump with her into whatever waited ahead.

Tomorrow she would return to Camp Mackall, to the familiar faces and routines of Easy Company. She would resume her training with Gene, her sessions with Nixon, her careful navigation between her worlds. And she would do so with renewed clarity about her purpose—not torn between roles but strengthened by their integration.

The truck rattled over the uneven road, jostling Isabella against the wooden bench as it made its way back to Camp Mackall. She watched the landscape pass by through the open back, the early morning light filtering through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the ground.

Sicily waited across the ocean. Combat loomed on the horizon. But tonight, Isabella slept soundly, confident in her path forward.

------------------------------‐----------------------------

Her mind was already shifting gears, moving from the analytical focus of the past forty-eight hours back to the practical concerns of Easy Company life. Had there been training injuries while she was gone? Would Nixon want an immediate report on her temporary assignment? Had Sobel invented some new form of torment in her absence?

As the truck turned onto the familiar road leading into camp, Isabella felt a surprising surge of anticipation. Two days away had been longer than she'd expected, the separation from her unit more noticeable than she'd anticipated.

The vehicle rolled to a stop near the company area, and Isabella jumped down, bag in hand. The camp was already awake and active, men moving between buildings, the sounds of morning drills carrying from the training fields.

She made her way toward the barracks, nodding to soldiers from other companies who passed by. As she approached Easy's area, a familiar figure emerged from the doorway—Gene, medical bag in hand, clearly headed out for morning sick call.

He spotted her immediately, his face breaking into a rare, genuine smile.

"Welcome back, chérie," he greeted as she approached. "Camp's been quiet without you."

"Quiet, huh?" she replied, falling into step beside him. "Should I be worried?"

Gene shook his head. "Just the usual. Sobel had us running tactical exercises yesterday. No major injuries, though Luz nearly took a branch to the face during a night patrol."

The simple exchange—this easy return to their professional shorthand—felt unexpectedly comforting after two days in unfamiliar surroundings.

"Anything I should know about?" she asked, gesturing toward his medical bag.

"Just routine. Spence has a persistent cough I've been monitoring. Randleman needed stitches after a training accident, but it's healing clean." He glanced at her, his expression shifting to quiet assessment. "How was your assignment?"

Isabella shrugged, keeping her response deliberately vague. "Different. Interesting. Lots of paperwork."

Gene nodded, accepting the non-answer without pressing further—one of the many reasons she valued their partnership.

"Nixon's looking for you," he added as they neared the medical station. "Said to send you his way when you got back."

She wasn't surprised. Nixon would want a full debriefing on her work at headquarters, especially given the nature of the intelligence she'd been analyzing.

"I'll find him after I drop my things," she promised.

As they parted ways, Isabella continued toward the barracks, eager to set down her bag and reconnect with the familiar rhythms of company life. She pushed open the door to find the space largely empty—most of the men already at morning PT or assigned duties—except for Liebgott, who was seated on his bunk, cleaning his rifle with methodical precision.

He looked up as she entered, his expression shifting from surprise to something more complex.

"Well, look who decided to come back," he said, setting aside his cleaning rod. "Thought maybe they'd permanently reassigned you to officer country."

There was something in his tone—not quite accusation, but a hint of... what? Annoyance? Concern? It was hard to pinpoint.

"Just temporary," she replied, moving to her bunk and setting down her bag. "Paperwork and meetings. Nothing exciting."

Liebgott studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Two days for paperwork, huh?"

Isabella met his gaze steadily, recognizing the challenge beneath the casual question. "That's right."

A beat of silence passed between them, laden with unspoken tensions. Then, abruptly, Liebgott's expression cleared.

"Well, you missed a hell of a show last night," he said, returning to his rifle. "Luz did an impression of Sobel that nearly got him court-martialed when Sobel walked in. Would've been worth it, though."

Just like that, the moment of tension dissolved, replaced by the easy camaraderie that had become their normal state. Isabella smiled, grateful for the return to familiar ground.

"Sorry I missed it," she said, beginning to unpack her few belongings. "Anything else happen while I was gone?"

Liebgott shrugged. "Usual bullshit. Oh, and Gene had to stitch up Bull's arm after he caught it on some barbed wire. Made a mess, but Gene fixed him up good."

Isabella nodded, making a mental note to check on Bull later. "Everyone else alright?"

"Guarnere got a letter from home. His brother's shipping out to Europe. Skip won twenty bucks off Penkala in poker, then lost thirty to Martin." Liebgott paused, then added with a slight smirk, "And we all learned that you apparently snore."

She shot him a glare. "I do not."

"How would you know? You're asleep," he countered. "Luz said it sounds like 'a small dog dreaming of chasing rabbits.' His words, not mine."

Isabella rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. This—the teasing, the everyday updates, the shared inside jokes—was what she'd missed most during her brief assignment away.

"Anyway," Liebgott continued, seemingly satisfied that the natural order had been restored, "Nixon's been asking about you. Twice yesterday, once already this morning."

"So I've heard," she replied, closing her now-empty bag. "Guess I should go find him."

Liebgott nodded, returning to his rifle cleaning. But as she turned to leave, he spoke again, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something more serious.

"Easy wasn't the same without you, Birdie," he said, not looking up from his work. "Too damn quiet."

The simple statement caught her off guard—a rare moment of direct sentiment from Liebgott, who typically buried such feelings beneath layers of sarcasm and sharp wit.

"Well," she replied after a moment, eyes fond and ears burning, "I'm back now."

He glanced up, meeting her eyes briefly. "Yeah. You are."

As Isabella made her way across the camp toward the S-2 office, she found herself reflecting on those simple exchanges—with Gene, with Liebgott. The ease with which she'd slipped back into Easy Company life, the quiet acknowledgment of her absence, the unspoken welcome of her return.

This, she realized, was what had been missing during her temporary assignment. Not just the familiar faces and routines, but the sense of belonging—of being known, valued, missed.

Colonel Sink had once told her that a soldier's greatest strength came not from physical prowess or tactical skill, but from the bonds formed with their unit. "When the bullets start flying," he'd said, "you fight for the ones beside you. Not for some abstract cause, but for the flesh and blood soldiers sharing your foxhole."

She understood that now more deeply than ever. Her analytical skills made her valuable to intelligence operations, her medical training made her essential to the company's combat readiness, but it was her place within Easy—the relationships, the trust, the shared experiences—that defined her service most fundamentally.

As she approached the S-2 office, preparing to report to Nixon on her temporary assignment, Isabella carried that understanding with her. She would continue to balance her dual roles, to move between her worlds as duty required. But she would do so anchored by the knowledge that she had found her place—her home—with Easy Company.

taglist: @malarkgirlypop, @darling-heffron

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translations: 'el Diablo sabe mas por viejo que por Diabo' - The Devil knows more because he's old than from being the Devil

'uno no pide un favor con el revolver en la mano' - One doesn't ask a favor with a revolver in hand

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#hbo war #band of brothers #fics #easy's songbird #band of brothers fanfic

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toboldlywrite · 4 months ago

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2025 WIP List

Elsewhere

Dancer by day, thief by night, Viatrix Hawk does her best to provide for her troupe of fellow performers and the people they call friends; stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. But a visit to the capital city of Evermore gives her a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: stealing the famed artifact of an ancient goddess, and forcing the government to take the people outside city walls serious for once. Instead, the goddess Elsewhere chooses Viatrix as her champion. Every year, monsters attack the capital, and only Elsewhere's champion can stop them. There are just two problems. One: no one believes Viatrix is champion material, least of all herself. And two: every single champion Elsewhere has chosen has died. If Viatrix wants to survive, she'll have to earn the trust of a people taught from birth to hate her, and uncover a history long lost to myth and legend.

The Insomnia Code

In a future utopia where everyone is half human, half machine, Dana Eligie is excited to finally finish school and become a fully fledged Dream Programmer. But just when her dream is about to come true, tragedy strikes. People's minds are going missing inside the Network--the virtual representation of the collective human consciousness. With no leads in sight, the authorities are talking about an extreme solution to keep people out of the Network. When Dana's own best friend becomes the latest to go missing, she decides to take matters into her own hands. With the help of her Learning Assistant/Familiar, an anxious cat-program named Virgil, Dana must navigate the layers of the Network to discover the truth about the missing minds, and save her friend before it's too late.

Seventh Heaven

After a long, bloody war to decide the fate of the world, humanity isn't sure what to do with the super-soldiers responsible for winning. But contact with other species in the galaxy gives them a way out--they volunteer to take the traumatized former soldiers in and give them a chance at peace and healing.

Seven Omega-Eight-One is volunteered into the program, and shipped off to a distant planet. There she learns about its people, its life, and maybe a few things about herself, too.

All of these blurbs are of course works in progress themselves, subject to update.

#2025 wips #writeblr #wip: elsewhere #wip: tic #wip: seventh heaven

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fumikomiyasaki · 4 months ago

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Introducing my ZZZ OCs which I took a while to finish I know... but hey at least now they have proper art.

Name: Nirvana Ashcroft

Gender: Technically none, but represents Female

Species: Ragdoll

Agent Rank: A

Height: 143 cm

Role: Anomaly

Element: Ether

Weapon: Lightbulb wand

Faction: Victorias housekeeping

Inspiration: 9 The movie

Starting off as one of 9 experiments made by a secretive Organization, she started of as “Number 9”, each Ragdoll for this experiment was made to eventually become a soldier to fight against the ethereals of the hollow… to get the most effective of making a machine with feelings so they won’t kill allies as much as they kill enemies too… Each Ragdoll was given a different personality. 1 was heroic and determined to be an inspiration to many, 2 was cool headed, an assistant and mostly one to guide, 3 was annoyed at everything while 4 was timid and worried, 5 was one who cared for the group the most and had something motherly, 6 was pretty peculiar about details and often observed to get the best decision, 7 was the best shooter and one colder in demeanor, and 8 was a bit goofy… lastly number 9 was hollow… the one with the least emotions… and the one who seemed most likely be able to learn… the creators let them live in peace like a family and did occasional tests however after a few years of setting them up… they put them to a pretty drastic test… their task to take out another… till only one is left…

The group was in shock at first but… then 6 did the first attack on 1 and while many of them tried to escape the facility… eventually their creators pushed them to have no choice… while 9 didn’t refuse or run from attacks, 5 was the one to pick her up and carry her from danger… untill they were the only two left… over seeing each of her comrades die before her… some more horrid than others… number 9 slowly felt less hollow.. she cried… she laughed… she hurt… and worse… her creators didn’t even let her that happiness of keeping number 5… worse they controlled her like a puppet on strings to kill them too… hailed as the sucessful experiment… Successful… but what purpose is there when the only ones she cared about are gone… if she continues to be forced into these horrid situations… what if this whole situation repeats over and over again… Number 9 developed another feeling inside her… and eventually used the memories of her fallen comrades into her… mostly to break out of her prison and go after those scientists… taking out each of them in her way until she met the person who designed her… going on their knees and begging for Mercy… Number 9 asked if there is a way to forget all of this… if there was a way to make these painful memories go away… the Scientist wanted to manipulate her into restarting and then working for them again… however she sensed their intention and took them out… before starting the machine herself and whipping a lot of her base memories of this event… and so she woke up… unsure why so much destruction was around her… why she was here… who she was… only a 9 on her suit… although she did feel her chest hurt somewhat… faint memories still linger of the atrocities in her code… given she was unsure before without guidance how to use that machine… slowly she tapped out weakly out the building… before collapsing in a street nearby… slowly a big wolf like person walked up to her and looked down at her. “Are you alright?” “Hmm…mhh.”

She could barely talk… she didn’t really know how… after all she did forget most of what made her as stable as she was before… but still she reached out her hand and accepted him helping her up. Behind him an Elegant lady came up… smiling at her and putting a hand on her head. “What's your name?” “Ni…ni…” The two of them looked at her in concern… the long haired lady pointed out the stitches on her arm, some which number 9 hid… two more girls followed after them and looked at her in concern, as the small one spoke up. “H-how about we call her… Nirvana… she does seem… peaceful… e-even if a little confused…” The wolfman gave a nod and kneeled down to the little Ragdoll. “If you feel lost, you can come with us. Maybe we will find your home there.” She nodded weekly… and so she became Nirvana… not knowing where to go… she adapted to the new people who accepted her. Becoming part of Victoria's housekeeping to help and thank the people who gave her a new home… Slowly but surely she practiced talking, tried to mimic some of the other members, trying to be as polite as Lycaon, as caring as Alexandrina, but also sometimes napping next to Ellen and apologizing a lot like Corin… She still slowly works to make her own decisions, impressions and tries to get out her feelings… although on occasions she is still plagued about the bits and pieces inside her about the past. Her cooking is incredible to many clients and some find her endearing for how sweet she is. She is set on making sure to do her best. Even if at times she thinks a bit too fast and blurts something out that might sound off.

She does love to make Dolls of her colleagues as well as collect cute things… can be one who has a bit of a chaotic room… also instead of a heartbeat you can hear a clock in her chest… ticking and ticking like it would go on forever.

Favourites

Favourite Food: She doesn’t need to eat, but stays Veggie, does eat fruit salad Favourite Drink: Also not much really… water Favourite *Drink*: does not Ice Cream Flavour: Vanilla Music Genre: Orchestral Symphonies Movie Genre: Cute animation movies Weather: Winter Holiday: Halloween Pet: Bunnies and Cats Time of day: Midnight Sport: Gymnastics Theme park ride: Tea cups Gemstone: Opals Color: Purple Flowers: Spider lilies Favorite game genre: Farming Sims Sexuality: Questioning… mostly Alignment: Chaotic good Favorite pizza type: Olive pizza Favorite school subject: She never had school… Birthday: 9th of September

Name: Alexander Volkov

Gender: Male

Species: Gray Squirrel Thiren

Agent Rank: S

Role: Attack

Element: Ice

Weapon: Crowbar

Faction: Belobog

Born in New Eridu, Alexander's Family was a fairly normal one… His dad worked seemingly as an office worker and his mom was a housewife… providing them mostly with the things they needed… His bond to his mom was very close, more so than his dad who was always at work and if he was home only nodded and half listened to him. Eventually when he started to go to school and learn more about the world… things didn’t really go well. Some of the kids made jokes of his Teeth, others just dismissed him… not being interested in him… and even if he found one person who gave him the time and wanted to become his friend… the others pushed them away from him… He struggled, especially with grades being very worried about disappointing his mother… and just on his way home… he watched a sketchy group of adults… mostly a street artist who used his tricks to fool the people before him… as he finished his act Alexander spoke up. “Why are you lying to those people?” “Didn’t your mother tell you not to speak to strangers?” “Yes but… I can always run away standing that far away from you.” The man chuckled and turned to him.

“Listen kid… the world is not a nice place… sometimes you have to lie to survive…. sometimes a lie can make things easier for you.” Alexander nodded… unsure what to make of the man's words… sure he wanted to not disappoint his mom but… lying might also do that… He went home… and as he opened the door he was surprised to see his father walk out… his mother had a bit of a concerned look but welcomed him in. “No worries dear, Dad still has some things to do.” Alexander's curiosity didn’t leave that however… so he sneaked out of the house by making his mom believe he was lying in his bed and used his fathers phone to track him down… a bit scared because of the dangers of the night but he needed to know why his father barely was home… and eventually he knew the reason why…. seeing his dad kiss another woman in front of a club and taking a picture of it before rushing home… However he didn’t expose his father yet… he was thinking… sure he hated him for not being there for Mom but… his lies made him seem at first like a much better person… what if the man on the streets was right… and so Alexander started to Lie in school about himself to make himself seem more interesting… and worse he had success with it. He finally got friends who believed his act. Even if they became mostly false friends making him worse. The teacher let him go easy so he could catch up with his grades and his research itself made him more smarter and cunning… eventually however he grew tired of his fathers antics… especially after they started to hurt his mother more and… exposed his relations… Yet eventually he did tie himself up more in a web of lies that got him into trouble… he only wanted to keep his mom safe and happy despite his dad leaving and having the money for it… so he started scamming people. Trying to make the quick money to pay for his moms expenses but… a dangerous group found out and put him into place resulting in his scars…

Eventually he was lucky they disbanded so he got away with these wounds but… he eventually started working in Belobog making blueprints to finally provide for his mother. Nowadays he still lies and manipulates a lot… mostly because even if he got consequences for his actions… he is still alive and… it still makes things easier but… mostly he is setting himself up for more troubles… till then he is laid back, tries to have his fun… even if he is at the constant edge of being in danger… But somehow he even seems to enjoy this kinda feeling… but who knows if eventually he is going to eat his own words. Maybe eventually he just needs a someone who actually cares for him as a person… not what he is lying to be

Favourites

Favourite Food: Hazelnut Pie, Cheeseburgers Favourite Drink: Coffee Favourite *Drink* : Vodka Ice Cream Flavour: Baileys Music Genre: EDM and Drum and Bass Movie Genre: Disaster Weather: Sunny Holiday: Spring break /j Pet: Ladybugs Time of day: Night Sport: Water ball Theme park ride: Free Fall towers Gemstone: Peridot Color: Orange Flowers: Bird of paradise flower Favorite game genre: Fighting games Sexuality: Omnisexual Alignment: Chaotic neutral Favorite pizza type: Mushroom mania Favorite school subject: Math Birthday: 24th of July

Name: Hestia Galatas

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Agent Rank: S

Role: Defense

Element: Physical

Weapon: Bike blade

Faction: Sons of Calydon

Born as the only daughter of a family of 6 sons… her father was usually one who tended to a gas station in the outer ring and Occasionally helped out with transports around the place… however even as a little kid Hestia loved to watch the other biker gangs zoom by… she always looked in awe and tried to build herself with stuff lying around her own bike to imitate them… her parents didn’t mind it, after all to them it was just silly childhood fantasies… But Hestia never gave up on that dream to hit the streets one day alongside the others…. To herself she often grew tired of his brothers trying to keep her from things cause she was the youngest… except for one who actually did often do fist fights with her…mostly because he knew his sister had a strong heart… and was stubborn when she set herself a goal. Years went by, Hestia grew tall and strong… being an inspiration for many to look up to when it comes to someone who really would do a lot for the outer ring yet… one event flipped a lot of what Hestia was proud off on its head.

As a stranger mocked her family's gas station because she wasn’t satisfied with Hestia's attitude… The two agreed to a battle to settle the scores… the customer saying if she wins she would ask Hestia and her family to give up their business while Hestia wanted the stranger to pay her compensation… many came to watch the two fight another however… Hestia noticed quickly this fight would not go past friendly sparring… she wasn’t ready for the dirty tactics her opponent pulled on her… one attack resulting in her eye being damaged and being the reason she wears and Eye patch nowadays but… this was nothing compared to what happened after Hestia fended off this attack… she pushed the lady down the sand… gripping her throat real tight in an instant… scarring many of the people that watched…

In the end nobody of them died and the Lady did pay the compensation.. however it did a lasting damage to Hestia's reputation… many feared what she was capable off… a guy she was having a crush on even told her to get away from him…or others turned away from her… in an attempt to not bother her family she mostly left… more determined than ever to restore her name. Eventually as she wandered the streets a bit lost Caesar and Big Daddy found her… they noticed her situation… but even then Caesar wanted to give her a chance… to pick her up and give her the wheels of redemption… even if it meant gaining herself also a bit of trouble along the way… and Hestia accepted her hand.

Nowadays she is under the mentality that she would give her life for her fellow Sons of Calydon members… She is loud, easy to go on instinct… although she holds strength back since back then… mostly cause she does worry about what she is capable off… But in all she has a weakness for small kids and wants to not scare them. She can have a bit of a stubborn head charging first but… it's also cause she wants to be a shield to her friends… and rather risk her getting hurt.

Favourites

Favourite Food: Gyros and Pita Favourite Drink: Orange Soda Favourite *Drink* : Brandy Ice Cream Flavour: Coconut Music Genre: Metal, Movie Genre: Action Weather: Windy Holiday: Easter Pet: Goat Time of day: Midday Sport: Track and Field Theme park ride: bobsleigh tracks Gemstone: Ruby Color: Blue Flowers: Aster Favorite game genre: Racing games Sexuality: Bicurious leaning Bisexual Alignment: Lawful Neutral Favorite pizza type: Jalapenos Favorite school subject: Biology Birthday: 13th of October

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**Name: ** Danbaijin Ito

Gender: Male

Species: Tanuki

Agent Rank: A

**Role: ** Stun

**Element: ** Ether

**Weapon: ** Remote control football

Faction: Sector 6

Danbaijin grew up among a more prestigious family in New Eridu… however as a kid always told to be quiet and behave… always sitting down, always doing his best. However his first comfort grew as he got a younger sister and was allowed to slack off more thanks to her being more the focus… he often secretly used his dads work laptop to learn things through the internot… Trying to have some fun in his too peaceful life… and so he became quite skilled with technology over learning and understanding… Eventually however he was caught by his father and yelled at for trying to unscrew the laptop and seeing how its parts look. Danbaijin felt a bit of fear as his dad raised his voice… and rushed out the doors… with his parents trying to follow their kid after …. Eventually the young Tanuki made his way to a more dangerous area… a group of sketchy people made him afraid but before he could curl into a ball in fear a Pubsec officer grabbed his hand…. and let him back to his parents.

The next few days were quiet and Danbaijin spent them again in his room… his only comfort was the soccer ball he had tossing it around left and right… until eventually he heard a ring at his door… he followed after his father who opened the door, holding his leg… But what he saw was something he did not expect… it was one of the gang members he saw on the streets… before he could react and warn his father… the person already attacked him… and used a knife blow to cut Danbaijins face in a failed attempt of his father trying to shield him… to their luck they managed to push the attacker down in a group effort as a family but… this harrowing experience became a catalyst for Danbaijin becoming a shut in… however his parents knew this would not go on forever… he shouldn’t live in fear… he should grow strong to face such dangers… Eventually his mom had the idea of signing him up to become part of Sector 6… using partly her connections but… Danbaijin agreed to it as long as he didn’t have to go to those family parties anymore to represent. And so Danbaijin became part of the current H.A.N.D… mostly acting as the one to manage technology as well as help Yanagi with some of her workload to keep the team still kind of acting together… he may be very fearful to even do little things like go outside to get groceries and asks other to do it for him but… its mostly because he can’t handle strangers… as he first met his colleagues it was very simple… It was long till he didn’t scream when Harumasa greeted him or ran away from Soukaku…. his main weakness is still that he has been sheltered for that long… but at least his intelligence is partly a reason to make Sector 6 missions go smoothly

Favourites

Favourite Food: Lives a lot of Chips… occasional Ramen too Favourite Drink: Energy drinks Favourite *Drink* : Mixed Cola cocktails Ice Cream Flavour: Caramel Music Genre: Pop music Movie Genre: Family Weather: Snowy Holiday: Thanksgiving Pet: Horse Time of day: Morning Sport: Soccer Theme park ride: He rather stays at the Arcades Gemstone: Saphire Color: Orange Flowers: Poppy Favorite game genre: Dating Sim Sexuality: Demisexual Alignment: True Neutral Favorite pizza type: Sicilian Pizza Favorite school subject: Math Birthday: 23th of December

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Name: Orson “Papyrus”

Gender: Genderfluid but mostly uses He/they pronouns

Species: Human

Orson was placed very young into an Adoptive Family, given his own parents went missing… however the family he grew into had a secret… They managed a Secret organization of Proxies called Sekhmet… under the disguise of working with the Simmer hot pot Restaurant in new Eridu. Their job mostly covers helping businesses to keep safe who want to be extra sure but also ratting out the more cruel people and giving them a lesson… its link to many small proxies who they separate ties with if they mess up… Staying here means utmost secrecy and loyalty as well as doing some guiding through hollows. Orson was placed really early into the secret and got the codename Papyrus… he never states his full name unless necessary and always just goes by Orson. But his usual go is to skate through down, act like he isn’t listening with headphones but then listen into conversations and what people talk about to help where he can. He does make a bunch of terrible jokes, has a big sweet tooth, he plays the Laid back cool guy… eventually you get through him trying to cover up and find out… he is just one who does have a lot of random trivia, is addicted to sweets, is terrible at accepting defeat and does collect so many buttons of things he loves he places on his sweater and bags and all.Overall he is defensive about liking cuter things and knows how to counter someone if they wanna mock him for it. In all he is a young kid who has already grown more mature than some adults just being part of such a secret… He knows of Phaethon and is motivated to see them as a Rival… and make sure to prove he himself can be a name standing among them too.

Favourites

Favourite Food: Donuts, Pies, Anything sweet really Favourite Drink: Fruit juice Ice Cream Flavour: Strawberry Music Genre: Reggae Movie Genre: Urban Weather: Rain Holiday: Carnival times Pet: Bears Time of day: Afternoon Sport: Rollerblades Theme park ride: standard Rollercoaster Gemstone: Garnet Color: Pink Flowers: Gladiolus Favorite game genre: Skating games Sexuality: Straight Alignment: Neutral good Favorite pizza type: Margherita Favorite school subject: Music

Birthday: 15th of February

#zenless zone zero #zzzero #zenless zone zero oc #zzz oc #zenlessoc #zenless oc #hoyoverse #zzzzero oc #victorias house keeping #sons of calydon #sector 6 #belobog #nirvana ashcroft #alexander volkov #Hestia Galatas #danbaijin Ito #orson

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colorfuldonutrunaway · 8 months ago

Text

Made the ref sheet for my other main oc, a character who is a romantic asexual.

So I'm going to edit this to explain the metrics a bit more.

*Name: Rei was created by rogue Japanese scientist Akira Watanabe, using the DNA of a deceased Vulpine (a race of sapient fox folk thought to be extinct) and his own genes, effectively creating a strange hybrid son. Legally, this would be his name (in western order) if the Japanese Government knew he existed.

*Nicknames: Americanized version of his first name, and Fox generally being what he's called by employees.

*Race: On account of being a human hybrid, he takes DNA from Dr.Watanabe, and immigrated to America, making him Japanese-American on his human side. His other half is a Vulpine, a race of sapient fox-men who lived on the Japanese isles thousands of years ago and potentially inspired the stories of the kitsune.

*Age: 21 as of 2024, thus being created in 2003.

*Gender: Male, biologically and identifies as such.

*Alignment: Chaotic Good. Ray is willing to do good things, even if it means breaking the rules or doing something risky.

*Job: Scientist who wants to follow in his father's/Creator's footsteps by uncovering secrets of the universe and contributing to the knowledge of humanity.

*Perception and Communication: Has decent sense, and a good communicator, but will sometimes doubt his senses or get nervous.

*Persuasion and Mediation: He can do a decent job convincing people to do stuff by pointing out pros and cons. Mediation is something he isn't great at because he doesn't like getting in the middle of a situation between other people that he's not already a part of.

*Literacy and Creativity: Dr.Watanabe gave Ray access to mountains of literature to learn how to read and absorb information from the world around him. His sense of creativity has blossomed as a result. He can think of many creative ways to solve problems at any given moment, and has been taught how to speak Japanese, English, and Chinese fluently.

*Cooking: Do NOT let this poor bastard cook! It will not end well!

*Tech savvy: Watanabe raised him surrounded by lab machinery, computers, and engineering tools so that he could take care of himself. This has led Ray to be able to efficiently repair most machines, operate with any type of computer, and code effectively.

*Combat: He was given some martial arts training by a local school, but he's still a bit physically weak.

*Survival: Again, given mountains of books and personal training by Akira have given him a good grasp on how to survive in the wilderness (or at least Hokkaido's wilderness) as well as being prepared for emergency situations.

*Stealth: His small size allows him to slink around without detection, but his bright orange fur and tendency to carry gadgets in his pockets can hinder this easily.

*Street smarts: Oof, he hasn't had a chance to socialize growing up, and only left the lab to run errands. So he's not fully familiar with the nuances of how humans behave. This especially hit hard when he arrived in America after Roman found him.

*Seduction: Infertile hybrid + asexuality means he struggles hard. Doesn't help that he's seen more as 'cute' rather than 'sexy', so it destroys any attempts at him being seductive.

*Luck: Isn't anymore or less lucky than the average person I suppose.

*Handling Animals: His fox appearance leads to most animals, especially dogs and cats, being scared or aggressive to him.

*Pacifying children: Children crying or screaming hurts his ears severely, so he refuses to assist in calming one down unless absolutely necessary.

*Strength: Not very physically strong.

*Dexterity: Great with rapidly typing, using weapons, and putting things together quickly.

*Health: Excellent care has led to him having a good body, but he's not going to take a lot of hits in a fight.

*Energy: Very energetic bundle of fur.

*Beauty: Some people find the curly fur on his face aesthetically pleasing.

*Style:...But he wears a lab coat almost 24/7.

*Hygiene: Very fastidious about his fur and how he smells. Being a fox though, he's naturally a little musty.

*Intelligence: Watanabe created him with a brain that can retain insane amounts of information and can learn at quick speeds. Therefore, he's highly intelligent as he knows a few languages, learned the sciences of Astronomy, biochemistry, mathematics, aerodynamics, and ballistics, and is a fan of old literature.

*Happiness: Being raised in an isolated laboratory has made him very self-critical and introspective. Being abruptly taken from his home country to America has also impacted his sense of self with the culture shock. He becomes more chipper when Roman lets him work in his lab and experiment with stuff.

*Spirituality: Raised without religion, Ray becomes agnostic after reading about things relating to the idea of a higher power. But he does no rituals or ceremonies, and attends no place of worship.

*Confidence: He's ready to take on the world and show how intelligent he is. And nothing can stop him.

*Humor: Akira entertained him with access to television, which helped him not be so far removed from the world outside the lab. This also led to him discovering comedy. Ray loves surrealist humor.

*Anxiety: It significantly spiked after Dr.Watanabe's passing and his subsequent kidna-immigration to America by Romanov. But after awhile, he settled into his new home and began to use the lab as his own, reminding him of the good ol' days.

*Patience: He feels like time is a valuable resource, so he refuses to be in a situation that doesn't need his attention.

*Passion: Should've been higher, because he's extremely passionate about science and changing the world for the better.

*Charisma: He knows some basic psychology about humans that he can exploit, but he's not a master of social cues.

*Empathy: This is where it gets kinda strange...Ray has a supernatural power. Referred to as the "Memory-Empath" skill, it allows him to see and feel the memories of others by making eye contact with them for an extended period of time. For example, looking into the eyes of a happy child with their father shows a memory of the child playing a game of catch with their father, and Ray can also feel the sun on the kid's face, the sense of approval from the father, the smell of the grass nearby. This has created a person who is very sensitive to the emotions of others, and he cares deeply for the welfare of his friends.

*Generosity: He's willing to give for a cause and donate things he doesn't need to someone who needs it more, but don't expect big handouts from him.

*Wealth: Not sure what to put here.

*Aggression: Not very aggressive, as he was raised to be very polite and well-behaved by Dr.Watanabe, who in his own right, is a great-grandfather. He's pretty old world.

*Libido: As stated before, being a sterile hybrid and asexual has led to him having a decreased libido. (disclaimer: I'm not saying that asexual people lack them, it's just difficult to turn him on)

I'll add more when I can, but I'm good for now.

#oc artist #oc artwork #fox #furry oc #furry art #sfw furry #vulpine #oc #character sheet #asexual #romantic asexual

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