#Sensor Installs/Problem

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

[thefrogman]

Froggie's Mailbox Adventures

I have been wanting to tell this story for a while now. This all happened right before my birthday and then I got sick for 4 weeks and didn't have the energy to talk about it.

So let us take a trip into the recent past to hear a tale of woe and triumph with a bunch of extra woe interspersed throughout.

It all began on the 4th of July.

Some neighborhood rascals ruined my old mailbox with a baseball bat.

They also destroyed my brand new mailbox sensor that lets me know when there is mail so I don't have to make multiple trips to check.

(Ring replaced it for free, so that was nice.)

Originally, I was going to hire someone to replace the mailbox. But I was not having much luck finding someone who could do that specific task. (I've been having trouble finding help in general due to living in a supposedly "dangerous" area.)

So I decided to try and install the mailbox myself. And I had no idea how much of an adventure that was going to be...

My first step was tearing off the old one to see how it was mounted.

I got some paper and a sharpie and noted where the holes were. And, of course, they didn't line up with the new mailbox.

Which is a really nice mailbox. I mean, it is solid. Check this bad boy out and please don't notice the dirty clothes lying on the floor in the background.

It is always so tempting to save a few bucks and get the cheaper thing, but I am so glad I splurged on this. It looks nice. It functions well. It has magnets. And I don't think it can be baseball-batted without some instant karmic retribution from Newton's third law.

My next step was to get a new mounting plate. And even though I try not to go to Home Depot because it is run by a bunch of conservative religious bigots... I went to Home Depot.

I was a little nervous about leaving the house at the time because I was still struggling with my heart issue (which I think is mostly resolved now). I was trying to be very careful about how much I exerted myself. I really didn't want to have an episode while I was out and about.

After searching for a while I discovered they had a mounting plate and a pressure-treated mounting board. I could do wood or metal. And they were located on completely opposite ends of the store because of course they were.

I had both items in my hand and I did that thing where you just keep staring at something hoping a useful thought will pop into your brain. I had no clue which one was better for my needs. There is surprisingly little information regarding mailbox installation on the internet. YouTube really let me down on this one. I was just kinda winging it and solving problems as I went along.

I stared for for a little while longer and no useful thoughts happened.

I was tired of staring so I just said, "Fuck it" and made an executive decision.

Then I almost passed out in Home Depot.

I spent too much time walking around that gigantic monstrosity of a store and my heart started beating super fast and my legs felt like jello and I started getting quite dizzy.

I was in rough shape.

So... I had a little lie-down next to a wall of tape measures.

I just stared up at them thinking about all of the things I could measure.

I could measure a dog.

Or a horsie.

Or a horsie the size of a dog.

Then I thought, "Ooh, that one has lasers! I NEED IT."

My brain was not functioning at 100% in that moment.

After about 10 minutes of thinking about lasers and things I could measure with lasers, my body seemed to reboot and I was able to get up. Thankfully no one saw me and thought there was a dead body in the aisle or something. But that was still embarrassing all the same.

Once my heart slowed down I was able to pay and make it out to the car. I headed home and saw one of the most unusual sunsets of my life. The sun was dim and a shade of orange I have never seen in nature. It was like, cheeto orange. Not only that, it was a perfect circle with a super crisp outline. It didn't look real.

I tried to get a picture of it but when I looked at the picture later, the camera didn't capture anything like what I saw.

This is the best approximation I can manage. But it still doesn't do it justice.

I was hoping I could get home in time to grab my real camera and capture this strange setting sun, but it dipped below the horizon just as I pulled into my driveway.

I then started problem solving how to get the new mailbox in place with the items I purchased. And I was on a deadline because I have no clue what happens when the mailperson arrives and they don't have a mailbox to put the mail in. Do they just throw it on the ground? Do they get to keep the mail? Are they going to use all of my grocery coupons?

And for some reason, my post office does not keep a consistent delivery schedule. I've been trying to figure out a pattern for weeks and they just seem to come "whenever" and that is about as close as I can pin it down. Which is why I got the mailbox sensor.

Due to my near fainting episode in Home Depot, I was in no shape to be handy, so I was trying to think of a temporary solution to put the new mailbox on without properly mounting it. At first I was going to just wrap it in packing tape a bunch of times. But then I noticed I had a bunch of string. And I decided that was a more interesting solution... for reasons? My brain was still not doing well. But when I tried to tie the new mailbox to the post with the string it failed miserably. And I realized the packing tape wouldn't work either. The mailbox did not sit flat on the post and it wiggled. However, because I tried the dumb string method, I discovered this wiggle issue and it actually helped me figure out how to mount it.

I gave up for the night and decided to hope I could install the box in the morning before "whenever" happened. The next morning I started drawing dots on boards and comparing my old holes to my new holes and measuring clearances. (Measuring without lasers like a chump.) I needed to elevate the mailbox in order to mount it and that's when I thought to combine the board and the plate. I could screw the board into the old holes and then create new holes in the board for the plate to attach. And the plate lined up with the holes in the bottom of the new mailbox.

EASY!

It was a pretty big brain moment for me and I felt like I just solved quantum physics or something.

You're probably pretty confused because you are not as smart as I am.

Here is a diagram to help.

The board mounts to the post arm. The plate screws into the board. The mailbox screws into the plate.

Or just use string.

Also, how fortunate was it that I stared for all that time and got frustrated and just bought both things?

My next problem was that my drill wouldn't fit inside the mailbox and I couldn't screw the screws in place. So I drilled pilot holes in the board so I could manually screw in the screws with a ratcheting right angle screwdriver.

And the only reason I had one of those is because I use it as a fidget toy. (I like the clicky sounds.)

Another lucky happenstance!

I tried to prepare as much as I could in my garage before dragging all of my tools to the end of my lengthy driveway. I brought along my dad's old rolling walker so I'd have something to transport everything.

But also so I'd have something to sit on while I was installing the new box. Then I wouldn't have another heart episode and need another lie-down.

Seriously, how big is my brain?

I am like the smartest person alive.

So I got to the end of the driveway with all of my tools and my board and my plate and my templates and I realized something was missing.

The new mailbox.

I am like the dumbest person alive.

After a quick back-and-forth to retrieve the mailbox, I got started on my master mounting plan.

I screwed the board onto the post arm.

Then I screwed the plate into the board.

Then I lined up the new mailbox onto the plate.

But as I was doing this, I was kinda sticking out into the street a little bit. And usually that isn't a big deal. Cars can see me from very far away and they were just steering around me. But then two cars came from opposite directions at the same time and I was in a precarious position where I could not move. One car steered wide to avoid me, and for some reason, the other car decided not to slow down but to drive off the edge of the street.

And as they pulled this maneuver I heard a loud thump, followed by a loud pop, and then the sound of hissing getting farther and farther away.

Like a snake version of the Doppler effect.

They drove directly into this and popped their tire.

On the one hand, I felt a little responsible and guilty. On the other, it is not my responsibility to fix the street. And on a third hand, that was silly driving behavior and perhaps they will see this as a learning moment.

After processing what just happened I got back to the task at hand. To my delight and surprise, all of my planning and problem-solving was working. Everything fit together perfectly. The right angle ratcheting screwdriver was screwing in the screws. And after I tightened the final one...

I had successfully installed a new mailbox, on my own, without any jankiness or tape or string.

Like, I did this legit proper.

Tons of pure endorphins rushed into wherever endorphins go. (Again, I am very smart.) That feeling of accomplishment was pure ecstasy. I had no idea how to do this and in less than 24 hours I was basically an expert mailbox installer. I took some shots of my work on my phone so I could brag to Katrina, packed up all of my tools, and began to walk back to the house.

And... my heart started beating fast again.

And... I needed to have another little lie-down in the grass next to my driveway.

I stared up at the sky and was frustrated and proud simultaneously. A weird mixture of emotions. At the time I didn't know if my heart could be fixed. But thankfully I had my sense of accomplishment to temper my heart sadness.

And then I thought, "I should get a new address sign."

Epilogue time!

I got on Amazon and started looking up new signs. And I found one that was solar powered and lit up at night. So clearly I needed to have that one. My midnight food delivery people will never struggle to find my house again!

And it actually looked pretty neat.

(My address is not actually four 0s, but you are free to try sending me something.)

The sign was very easy to read... if you were super duper close.

But if you were farther away...

You couldn't actually distinguish the numbers. And it kinda looked weird next to the mailbox. And headlights made the numbers even harder to see. Which was the opposite of what I was going for.

So I opted to get a more traditional sign.

(Please send items to the realm of nothingness. I am in the void.)

But this bugged me because the sign was a different size than the old sign and the connection points didn't line up perfectly.

I HAD A CATAWAMPUS CHAIN!

WHICH IS THE MOST UNACCEPTABLE KIND OF WAMPUS!

It was at this point that Katrina started making fun of my perfectionism.

But this wasn't perfectionism for perfection's sake.

My Dad was having trouble fixing things around the house. And some other kids knocked over the previous, previous mailbox. And he found the strength to go to the store, get a new one, and install it all by himself. He was at the end of the driveway, attached to his portable oxygen canisters, and fixing one last thing for this house.

And I guess I just wanted to get it back to perfect. Because he never did any handyman task half-assed. He was a full-ass handyman. Always.

So... I fixed the sign.

Perfectly balanced.

Again, feel free to send me stuff to 0000 Road.

I'm sure it will get here... "whenever."

[rdbrainz]

Man… whatever… cyberpunk AU stuff inspired by the Future Society summons in BBS + a Franceska/Di Roy piece just because I can, duh!

Loose translation: 1) "Outdated models are dearer to me than any software that connects to the chip with no problem whatsoever"; 2) Nnoitra: Army prosthetics from god knows where. The eye implant is barely working and the only thing he uses in it is a built-in light. Nnoitra hardly has any money to fix it so he's left to deal with terrible migraines. Ulquiorra: High-quality rewired brain chip with a hack safety + an outdated old-fashioned prosthetic and both have to be connected by a cable for netrunning purposes. Because "It was very popular back when I was a kid…" So basically nostalgia. Grimmjow: Absolute dogshit prosthetics since he is a victim of the poorly installed and maintained implants in the lower class. Bazz-B: Got one of the most expensive and advanced prosthetics with a sensor that reads texture and temperature information for free. Modified it with a naked chick drawing to Jugram's chagrin since he's the one who bought it (and also chopped his arm off).

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Just A Kid Next Door - Chapter 8

Bruce is finally back from being stuck in the time stream. Tim managed to save Batman and his loved ones. Now it is time for Tim to go home and rest. But the problem is that, Tim has no home. Or that's what he thinks so.

This will be a multichapter fic on how did Tim reconcile with his family. It will be full of angst, family feels and family shenanigans.

Masterlist

Here in the link to read the story in ao3.

-------------------------------CHAPTER 8---------------------------------

Jason was making his way back to his apartment after a tiresome patrol, but the former crimelord's mind was fully consumed by complex thoughts about his so-called family. He was clearly baiting on whether or not to go and see Bruce.

"I know you are following me, Dickward" Jason hissed, settling on the rooftop of a building.

 The figure behind him gave no indication of any acknowledgement. Turning back, Jason removed his helmet, his identity concealed by the domino mask which he always wore underneath his helmet and shook his head casually to get rid of sweat.

"What do you want? Did the Old man send you to keep an eye on me, making sure I fucking kill no one huh? "

"Why didn't to come to Manor?" Dick asked.

"Why should I?"

Dick let out a long sigh.

"Please, Jas-Hood. We thought we lost Bruce, we mourned for him, I know you mourned for him, so don't even try to fool me by saying you don't care."

Jason did not know what to say for that. Sure he missed  Bruce very much, but his ego was far too big for him to set aside the issues between them.

Did he forgive Bruce for what he did?

No. And he don’t think he ever will.

But did he understand why Bruce did so?

Maybe.

"I don't think the old man even wants to see me in the first place" Jason murmured

"Wha- No that's-" Dick was interrupted by the sound of blaring alarm coming from Jason's wrist.

"Welp, it was definitely not nice talking to you, but I gotta go. See ya dickface" Jason jumped of the building and grappled his way towards his apartment.

Jason did the best thing by installing sensor alarm all over his apartment so that he would know when Tim tries to break into his apartment next time. And he was correct. This time he is planning on locking that kid in his apartment till he gets his answers.

When Jason entered his apartment through the broken window, he was expecting Tim, but he was surprised to find three other figures.

The superman's clone ran towards Jason, and before he could react, Jason got punched in his gut.

"What are you doing here?" Superboy demanded, holding Jason by the collar of his jacket.

"You are the one to ask? It's where I fucking live, Cloneboy"

"What?"

Kon left Jason and took a step back.

"Why would Tim ask us to bring him here then?” Kon asked, to nobody in general.

"Where is he?" Jason inquired

"Who?" Kon gave a confused glance to Jason

"Brittney spears, duh, Big brain. I'm asking for Red Robin. “Jason scoffed.

"Don't even dare to take a step closer to him" Kon sneered, taking a step closer to Jason, trying to be intimidating.

Oh right, he totally forgot about the titans tower incident. Tim forgave him for that a long time ago. He was strongly under the effects of the pit. Guess his little friends didn't know about that.

"Look, we resolved tha-"

"We need your help" Wondergirl interrupted them, shouting from the kitchen.

"Look, I'm not trying to hurt Tim anymore. If Tim himself has brought you here, it might be of a reason, okay. Chill out and let me go"

Superboy seemed to think for a moment, before letting Jason go to the kitchen.

On his kitchen counter was Tim sprawled on, unconscious, and bleeding. His counter top was messy with blood dripping.

"Fuck" Jason muttered.

"Hewasstabbed" Bart said, swiftly coming near Jason.

Another day in the life of a bat themed vigilante.

"Scoot over" Jason said to Cassie, inspecting the wound.

Jason took over stitching the wound with ease, due to years of practice and experience.

"Care to explain how the fuck this happened?" Jason asked, his eyes focused on the stab wound.

"He was trying to take over a bunch of bad guys on his own, knowing he was clearly outnumbered, and got stabbed by one of them."

"He called for help?"

"Actually no, we came to Gotham to check on him, you know make sure he is alive and all, but couldn't find him so I traced him with the sound of his heartbeat." Kon told.

This did not surprise Jason at all. Tim is a fucking over independent and self-reliant idiot.  

"Why not bring him to the Batcave?" Jason asked, already knowing the answer.

"I don't know man, he woke up in the middle and strongly suggested to come here, which was quite concerning, given the fact that he was completely knocked out previously” Kon muttered, exasperated.

Jason cut the remaining thread with his teeth and carried Tim over to the guest room, laid him on the bed and started removing the rest of his suit.

“Stop staring and help me out, will ya” Jason said

“Oh yeah, right”

Meanwhile Jason removed his helmet and mask as Kon was removing Tim’s suit.

Cassie let out a loud gasp followed by Bart’s ‘Oh shit’

Lying on the bed in his underpants, Tim’s chest and torso had multiple scarring and fresh bruises, which by he looks of it seemed to have happened recently.

Kon was just staring at Tim, his eyes never leaving the scars and bruises which littered his friend’s skin.

But Jason...

Jason was angry, angry at the person who did this to his little brother, angry at Tim for letting it happen, knowing that his dumbass purposefully avoided asking for any help and he was angry at himself for not being there from him, not protecting his little brother.

“I uh, Why don’t we go the living room and talk about what actually happened, huh?” Jason suggested, trying to break the silence.

“Uh, yeah, that sounds better” Bart said, sounding unsure.

The three of them exited the room, Kon reluctant leave to Tim’s side.

“You too, Cloneboy”

“Yeah” Kon said, his voice laced with worry.

The four of them settled themselves in the living room comfortably, each of them nursing a cup of tea, courtesy of Jason because he is a fucking great host.

“So, cash or card?” Jason asked.

“For what?” Bart asked, stuffing his face with the junk food from his pantry, which Jason was sure he didn’t give to him.

“My Window, it’s broken”

“Aww man, aren’t you a son of a billionaire or something?” Bart asked, sounding offended.

“I’ve never seen Tim like this before” Kon interrupted, his eyes on the carpet and his tea left untouched on the coffee table, sounding defeated.

The whole room fell into silence.

“Yeah, it was dangerous, the way he fought, it was- it was almost like he didn’t care if he got hurt” Cassie broke the silence, her voice sounding small.

“He is so closed off, like I know he values his privacy but I’ve never seen him be this stoic. He shows no emotion, don’t care about himself, avoiding everything and everyone, it’s just – it’s so frustrating. I just, I don’t know what happened to him while I was – while I was dead, but he is not the same person anymore, I feel like he just gave up on himself” Kon said, angry at himself.

Jason didn’t know what to do. Superboy was correct. His brother is definitely not the same person anymore.

“I want him back… I just want my Rob back. The Tim who was awkward and just don’t know when to shut up, the Tim who puts everyone in their place with his wits, the Tim who never stops trying, I just- I want him back.” Kon said, sounding in the verge of breaking down.

Jason felt bad. He never knew how Tim used to be before, as he was already pretty messed up when the two were trying to patch up. But Jason knew he wasn’t this bad. The replacement has always been quite cheerful and irritating.

His brother seems to share a special bond with these kids, Jason thought.

Cassie was silently crying and Bart had long back given up eating, now pacing back and forth.

“What really happened when we both were dead?” Bart asked, pointing to him and Kon.

Honestly speaking, Jason didn’t know. The replacement just started distancing himself from others after his friends died, and Jason still don’t forgive himself for giving his little brother some space to grieve. He should have scooped Tim up and let him cry on his shoulder.

“We both were in a bad place after you died” Cassie said, wiping off the tears, which made Kon look at her intently.

“We just didn’t know what to do, we didn’t know how to grieve. It was so hard. We were just expected to continue living as if nothing had happened, as if we weren’t snatched two of our family members. The tower, which was an escape haven to all of us, became hell. Every wall, every window, every little things reminded us of how happy we were once.  Reminded us how everything changed in an instant” Now Cassie was shaking, her body wrecked by sobs.

Both Kon and Bart went over to where Cassie was sitting. Kon sat down on the carpet and took Cassie’s hands, massaging it and Bart sat next to her and threw a comforting hand around her shoulder.

“And it was hard, it was so hard…so I joined a cult”

“YOU WHAT?!?” Kon and Bart shouted at the same time.

Now Jason can see why Tim is friends with her.

“But Tim was worse…he was in denial, he was not ready to accept and he kept on going as if..., he pretended that everything was normal, just like how he was when Jack Drake died. But that was all pretending. Deep down, he was broken. He buried down all of his feelings. He was so crazy and in order to fill the void he started cloning you both and I came t-

“HE FUCKING DID WHAT?!?” Now it was Jason’s time to shout.

Sure Tim is a little weird and stupid but this whole cloning thing is just extreme level of stupidity, even for him.

Kon was as pale as a sheet of paper, his whole demeanour stiff. Jason feels bad for him. He knew cloning was a sensitive topic for the kid and hearing that his best friend tried to do that again was not an easy thing to hear.

The whole room was enveloped by silence, each person trying to accept what they just heard.

Kon was he one to break the silence.

“Was he- was he successful?” Kon asked, his voice shaking.

“…No, he would have, but then I found out, so I stopped him. We had a huge fight, which resulted in us leaving the tower.”

Kon let out a long breath in relief.

“I joined the cult after that and Tim went back to Gotham….and within a day, Batman was found dead.” Cassie said.

“And he got so crazy, he kept on telling everyone that batman was alive even after we found his body and buried him. He cut off all his ties with everyone, me, Dick, even Alfred. I tried to convince him, but he was not ready to accept. After that he just left Gotham.”

“But he was right, wasn’t he? Batman is indeed alive.” Jason said

“Yeah” Cassie said, her voice sounding small.

“That Bastard is always right”

Kon, Cassie and Bart ended up sleeping on the couch that night, all reluctant to leave their friend alone.

It was almost dawn when Jason decided to call it a night and let sleep take over him, but was interrupted by a notification sound from his personal phone.

Sighing, Jason rolled over to see who decided to text him at this ungodly hour.

Unknown number:

Todd, it is of utmost importance that we talk.

Jason:

What the fuck do you want now, gremlin?

Damian:

The matter of discussion is Drake.

Jason sat up, felling very awake.

Jason:

What about Tim?

Damian:

I discovered something that belongs to him… from his time as Robin.

Jason:

And???

Damian:

The content…is quite disturbing. I would very much like your assistance on this matter.

Damian:

We shall meet at the Drake manor.

Jason:

kk. See you in Drake Manor before patrol tonight.

Putting his phone aside, Jason tried his very best to fall asleep.

[ns-games]

CrowdStrike'd and BitLocker'd

With yesterday's CrowdStrike outage. I'm sure a number of you are probably wondering "what does BitLocker have to do with any of this?" Well, it all has to do with an added layer of security many organizations use to keep data from being stolen if a computers ends up in the hands of an "unauthorized user."

To start, let me briefly explain what the CrowdStrike driver issue did and what the fix for it is.

After the update was automatically installed to computers running the CrowdStrike Falcon Sensor, a faulty driver file caused the Windows kernel on those computers to crash and display a Blue Screen of Death. How Windows typically handles a crash like this is to create a crash log file, then perform a reboot. Since this driver would launch shortly after Windows finished booting, it would cause the operating system to crash and reboot again. When two crashes have occurred in sequence, Windows will automatically boot into Recovery Mode. Hence why we say several pictures of the Recovery Mode screen across social media yesterday.

Unfortunately, this update was automatically pushed out to around 8.5 million computers across several organizations, causing widespread chaos within the matter of a few hours. And the fix for this issue had to be performed by physically accessing each computer, which required those of us working in I.T. to have to run around several facilities, locate each affected computer, and apply the fix one by one.

The short and simple of the fix is either one of two options. You can either use the Recovery Mode that Windows was already booted into to navigate to Start-Up Setting, and launch Safe Mode. Once Windows boots into Safe Mode, the technician can navigate to C:\Windows\System32\Drivers\CrowdStrike, and delete the file C00000291-*.sys. After that the computer can be rebooted as normal, and the crashing will stop.

Or the technician can open System Restore from Recovery Mode. And, assuming there is a recovery point, restore the computer back to a good known working state.

Now, this may all seem simple enough. So why were so many organizations having trouble running this fix? That all has to do with BitLocker. As an added security measure, many organizations use BitLocker on their computers to perform a full hard disk encryption. This is done so that if a computer ends up being lost or stolen, and ends up in the hands of an "unauthorized user" they will not be able to access any of the data stored on the computer without a password to log into the computer, or the computer's BitLocker recovery key.

This presented a problem when trying to restore all of these affected computers, because when either trying to launch Safe Mode or System Restore, the user would be prompted for the BitLocker recovery key.

In my organization's case, we found we could save time by providing our end user the steps to perform one of the two fixes on their own to save time. But the problem we still continue to run into is the need for these BitLocker recovery keys. In my case, I've been fielding several calls where I've had end users walking from one computer to another while I provide them with the key as they walk through reverting back to a previous restore point.

Again, a pretty long story, but hopefully that can provide some context as to what's been happening over the past 48 hours.

[horus-unofficial]

Subject: Gorgon Frame Mech Moving Without Pilot Input

I have been using on of your Gorgons for a while now, but recently while I've been performing maintenance I've noticed that my Gorgon changes its position occasionally while I'm not looking. If I'm working on an arm it may raise up and point at the wall, or if I'm working on the reactor my Gorgon might curl up covering it. Nobody has seen or heard it moving.

I do not have any AIs or NHPs installed on my Gorgon, there is no evidence on hacking or other technological interference. Reviewing camera and sensor logs of the times when it does move reveal gaps in the logs. We've stepped up security, believing this to possibly be the work of our enemies or saboteurs, but currently we have no evidence that this is the case.

Would you be able to shed some light on this issue? These occurences are freaking out my station and we need to know if its a defect of the Gorgon frame.

Sincerely, Medusa

so theres like an itsy bitsy teensy weensy amount of artificially grown flesh in most gorgon models. its got an itsy bitsy teensy weensy bit of a nervous system. its muscles are contracting randomly and youve got a bit of an electricity problem is whats happening

[clowningaroundmars]

still suffering from bad motorcity brainrot so my brain conjured up a funny ass scenario where the gang finally learns more about texas' family.

well, more than just "texas has a real big family"

based off of chris p's confirmation that texas was going to have cerebral parents who are the exact opposite of him

Mike is of course the first one to interrupt the conversation and greet him, noticing all the screens his best friend had pulled up. Then, when a semi-preoccupied Chuck didnt immediately answer back, Mike sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees.

Chuck shuffles in on socked feet to the pile of Burners casually lounging in their main living room area and chatting.

"Hey, Chuckles. I said good morning!"

Chuck looked up suddenly, as if just realizing where he was.

"O-OH yeah hey guys, morning ahaha..." Chuck ran a nervous hand through his hair, revealing a furrowed brow that Mike immediately noticed.

"What's with all the screens so early in the day? You're usually halfway through breakfast before pulling one of those up," Mike chided jokingly.

"Uh so, like, late last night--"

"Morning. You mean early in the morning," Mike grinned, and then exclaimed when Chuck reached for a pillow to toss at his face.

"Last night..." Chuck continued, "I noticed something going on with the east gate. It's weird, the battery we found should have been full enough to last us 'til the end of the year but uh... yeah it's totally drained now, guys." By now, Chuck was taking a seat next to Mike and letting his friend lean into his space to study the screens. "And I was lookin' at the new motion sensors we installed recently and it seems like it drained fast right after someone... or something moved near it a couple nights ago."

Julie waggled her head, considering Chuck's words. "Could be a lot of things, honestly. That fusion battery wasn't really meant to last long anyways, it was only a temporary fix at the time."

"Yeah but if someone's trying to siphon off battery power from the gates, that could be a real big problem in the future," Dutch put in.

Texas kicked his legs in the air from where he laid on a beanbag at everyone's feet. "Wait, the eastern gate? Isn't that gate the one that was havin' problems that one time Kane busted in like about a year ago?" He crunched on some mystery substance in a plastic container.

Most likely something from Jacob's kitchen.

Mike laughed. "The very same, buddy."

"Tch'aaww that gate's lame. It keeps breakin' all the time! I wouldn't be surprised if it's just old and basically turning into total junk."

Julie turned to Mike and Dutch. "Y'know, he might be right--"

"Duh, Texas is always right!"

"...That gate really does have some history. It was the first offically maintained entrance into Motorcity years ago when Deluxe was first being built. I'm pretty sure Kane abandoned it on purpose after our crazy battle with those Ultra Golems."

Mike shook his head. "So he most likely cut the power from that gate then, huh. Makes sense why the battery's almost dead! That's a lot of heavy lifting for only one battery."

Chuck stopped typing on his screens for a second. "Why didn't we just scavenge for a newer battery after you beat that big robot Kane sent in? We secured that gate after, didnt we?"

Dutch and Julie smirked at each other.

"Someone might've gotten a bit distracted by an opportunity that ended up bein' a little too good to be true," Dutch elbowed Mike.

Mike guffawed and immediately tried to downplay the mistake. "Aw man, I mean yeah-- that, aaannd also we got that distress call from Doc Hudson not long after, too... so I mean--"

"Mmnn yeah, gotcha." Chuck deadpanned, returning back to triple-checking his maps and motion sensor logs.

"Anyways," Texas cuts in, "that gate's old an' dusty. It totally needs an overhaul, Texas-style. Hoo-WAH!!" He kicks his legs in the air in a flurry and uses the hand not holding his container to do a quick karate chop.

Everyone looks at him.

"Texas," Dutch starts patiently, "we're not construction workers, man. That's up to the Motorcity council to decide when the whole thing gets fixed now. I'm pretty sure they'd know about the power being cut off by now."

"Yeah, they should since I just pinged one of the council members about it too," Chuck piped up.

Texas shakes his head like a father explaining something to a child who isn't understanding what he's saying at all. "Yeah duh I know, guys, I'm not dumb!"

Dutch bites back a mean retort. Julie smirks again behind a carefully placed hand.

"I could just go to my mom and tell her everything! Then she can just send her construction worker dudes to tear down the thing and like, I dunno, hook it up to our own power supply or whatever. No effort on our part!" He flexes an arm casually.

A pause.

Mike was the first to speak up. "Wait, what? Your mom?"

"Uh, yeah, you guys didnt know my mom's head of the council?"

Dutch does a double take. "Head of the council?!"

"Yeah, Stretch. Head of the Motorcity council! She's been leadin' it since I was like a tiny Texas baby. She just keeps gettin' re-elected, heh. Makes sense since she's cleaned up and expanded a lot of stuff, I guess."

"...And she gave birth to you?!"

Mike elbowed Dutch back, hissing "dude!" under his breath. Chuck snorted.

Texas, as usual, lets the insult sail right over his head. "I know right? Both my parents are totally lame and boring. Not like Texas, hwa-CHAA!! They don't know anything about martial arts movies, sweet Muay Thai kicks or Texasifyin' stuff! They just wear boring suits and go to like a million meetings! My dad's not like in city council or whatever but he's a uh... a... what's-it-called. An archic-tech. He doesn't even build the stupid buildings and junk, he just designs 'em."

Everyone stares for a couple of seconds, Dutch rubbing his chin in disbelief.

"Wait, your dad's an architect?" Chuck asks incredulously.

Texas shrugs and stuffs his mouth with the mystery food. "Yeah? I thought I told you guys all about this!"

Mike leans forward and asks Texas directly, "does your dad only design buildings? Or does he help your mom with the city planning too?"

Texas munches for a few seconds before answering. "Mnnyeah, he's like... he plans and draws pretty much everything in Motorcity, like where the hotels and shops and stuff can go. He designed the whole downtown area I think. Obviously they're not done fixin' up the place, but the public bathhouse was his idea, so."

"He's an urban planner, Texas! Wow, not just an architect either, he does both!" Julie admires out loud.

Dutch leans back on the couch dramatically and sighs. "The bathhouse, oh damn."

Everyone took a quick second to reminisce about their trip to the bathhouse with fond smiles. It was a gorgeous Greek-inspired building as tall and beautiful as it was comforting, a recent addition to the bustle of downtown Motorcity. It had sleek marble walls, cozy alcoves for private meetups, grand staircases seemingly everywhere and polished golden accents gleaming in every corner.

The building was split into two sections with a giant-- and equally beautiful-- indoor garden separating the halves, and a courtyard with a net in the middle stationed out back for friendly games of volleyball or tennis. The bath itself sat like a reigning king in the front, right past the fancy lobby and locker rooms. In the back half, the indoor pool stayed open for swimming only in the summer. During the cold winter months the pool was frozen and turned into a makeshift ice skating rink.

Both pool and bath were massive and alive day after day with Motorcitizens relaxing after a hard day's work, meeting up with friends, or just taking the kids out to a fun day of swimming.

It was everyone's favorite spot to relax and hang out during chilly days thanks to the saunas as well.

Motorcity's gang members have officially sectioned the bathhouse and the immediate area off as a neutral zone, strictly banning violence and disputes from there. That decision was introduced by Julie and quickly adopted after everyone figured it'd be hard to tell which member was from which gang when they were all naked.

Knowing that Texas' father-- of all people-- was the man most likely responsible for that slice of heaven in an otherwise grimy and dark city was... well, it was weird.

"So," Chuck said, scratching his head, "your dad designs things and your mom orders the funds around. For, like, the whole city."

"Yyyup." Texas answers.

"Sooo... what does the rest of your family do?"

Texas takes a minute to think. "My grandma owns a shop downtown. All my sisters are out studying with people, doin' apprenticeships n' stuff. They mostly like to build and program stuff, one of them's over at the Cablers' right now. Oh yeah, my oldest sister is in a band! She's the lead guitarist and everything! She's badass, like Texas."

Dutch nods slowly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Uh huh. Mhm. This idiot's family is super smart and accomplished. Now I've seen everything."

Mike huffs out a laugh. "Wow, Tex. That's uhm... yeah, that's great! Think we can shoot your parents a quick message and maybe pass along some ideas?"

"I've got tons of ideas for a more efficient electrical wiring system!! With better security in place too! And a failsafe just in case!" Chuck blurts out. He then realizes his excitement and leans back self-consciously. "AHA-- ahem, that is if they're uh, if they're, y'know-- if it's not too much to impose on them, of course!"

Mike smiles warmly at Chuck and turns back to Texas. "No, I think they'd probably love the help, right Tex?"

Texas guffaws, spewing a few crumbs everywhere. "Tchyyyeaah!! Texas' parents are always so dang busy all the time like... ugh. Yeah, Skinny over here would probably be their favorite guy for a while just for takin' on some o' the work."

Chuck grins and opens up a new screen with some schematics, and gets right to work.

[karis-online-archives]

Hi and welcome to another episode of Nerd Knowlege with Kari!

In this episode we'll be talking about the Boeing 737 MAX 8, the MCAS system and why said system was even installed, why it failed.

(this ist the actual Cockpit of a 737 max 8)

One lovely day someone at Boeing woke up, saw that Airbus (the Europen counterpart) had decided to renew its engines, and went: "Oh shit we have to do that too". And they did, just not well.

The Boeing 737 Max 8 failed 33 out of 89 tests, which is a lot.

With a too-high AoA (angle of attack) at take-off caused by the weight of the new engines, they could lead to possible danger.

So Boeing decided that a system that corrects the aeroplanes nose if needed. And so the MCAS ( or Maneuvering Characteristics Augmentation system [say that 5 times in a row I dare you]).

One would argue that pilots would need proper training for a new system, but not Boeing. Why?

Because it's cheaper to give pilots a one to two-hour iPad course. And I'm not even joking, that is literally the training they got.

Now what made it fail?

The MCAS system relied on one single sensor, and that sensor gave wrong AoA data, causing the system to automatically push the nose downwards.

The pilots could push up the nose as much as they wanted, the system would always push it back down. The pilots did not know how to fix this problem which then led to two horrible crashes.

I would like to add that having the finance guys take over the company was a bad decision.

I hope you're doing good!

Logging off,

Kari

[20/07/2024]

[bomberqueen17]

inspections

in terms of the kitchen remodel we are still waiting on like five pieces of trim and the door of one cabinet. so we're to the final details phase. which means the electrical and plumbing inspectors from the town have to come by.

the plumbing inspector came by and was super friendly and funny and was like "i guess i gotta run some water, i'll feel silly if i don't and there was a problem, but mostly i mean, if there was a problem you'd probably have noticed right?" and i was like yeah fair enough, wanna look at the gas lines they moved? and he was like oh i guess i will, sure. Super low-key.

The electrical inspector was similarly chill but he looked grimly up at the smoke detector they'd put up in not the place I'd expected them to, and said "that's. not where that goes." I said "it goes off all the time" and he was like "yeah it's way too close to the stove, I would not have put it there. But the problem is, you need there to be a carbon monoxide sensor within fifteen feet of your bedrooms, and the closer bedroom is seventeen feet that way."

Sure enough. It's the right kind of smoke detector but it's in the wrong place.

I looked up the manufacturer's instructions and they say to put it 20 feet from the main cooking appliance. Ten if that's not possible, but preferably 20. I measured, and it's eight feet from the stove. I can't get emojis to insert but this is the upside-down smiley, right here.

So the hallway location would have been completely fine for that, and in fact better. And that's where I had pointed out that they should put it, and that's where Jim had said they'd put it, and it's where I fully believed they were putting it until they finished the job.

So I'm displeased and have to psych myself up to call Jim and break the news to him, that it's not just that I could put another sensor up and be good-- the one they put in is just plain in the wrong place. I don't know if they can properly move it, they hard-wired the communication wire to the basement alarm, and I don't know if they can fish that through the ceiling that direction. (They can't, I'm one thousand percent sure the joists go the other way.)

But the alarm they installed, which cost me extra outside of the five figures of work done on the kitchen, is incorrectly located, and meets neither the manufacturer's guidelines nor town building codes. So I gotta put my big girl panties on and complain about that. I'd been preparing myself to just suck it up and set the smoke detector off every time I cooked but realizing that it's absolutely not supposed to be there has removed my last shred of putting up with that shit.

Hell fucking no. Now, how to say that nicely???? *deep breath* I can do it. Polite but firm.

On another note-- I went out of town for the weekend and got stuck there because of the snow, and finally made it back Monday morning, and when I texted the family groupchat that I'd made it home my mom was like "great!" and then literally one minute later was like "so what color are you painting your kitchen" so understand that y'all are not the only ones waiting to find out.

LOL any color would workkkkkk so I gotta pick one and do it. But probably not this week, as today's the last break in the weather and then we're supposed to get absolutely slammed with snow.

[klysanderelias]

Okay I've been going back and forth on this and I'm gonna do it, just in chunks because of course there's a limit on images.

This is the character that started a bit of an obsession for me, what I thought was going to turn into a novel but I'm sticking to the original concept - a beam saber (by austin ramsay) game that I'm going to run before I die, I swear to god. This is Rachel Hess (she/it), better known as Thirty Thousand Tons Of Unexploded Ordnance, a starship using an artificial construct body to pass a coded message to the party. I've got a lot of plans for her, but her initial appearance is supposed to surprise and confuse the party, as well as start pushing them towards major plot events (or at least give them the option). Art is by the wonderful @dhurain

From the same game, Stability Liao (she/her), the chief mechanic of the PC's starship. She's probably one of the least fleshed out characters, unfortunately, because I love how she looks and I think she'd be a lot of fun to have in scenes. She's the typical enormous brawny mech repair specialist - calling the players' mechs hers, berating them for taking damage, but I want to give a little more space to her outside of the mech bay and see what happens, because I think there's a lot of room to play and evolve in reaction to the players. Art is by the talented @snippity.

The last characters I'll do for this installment are the other mech pilots on board the players' ship, all art done by the incredible @sierra117-renner (also @s117rartblog for portfolio)

This is Kadri Kassal (she/her), callsign 'Viscacha', shy sweetheart with a molten core. She tends to fight extremely aggressively, pushing her heat curve to critical. I don't want to play too heavily into the 'nice girl who turns into a combat monster' trope, but also I feel like given the right amount of time in scenes, it'll be easy to avoid making her one-dimensional. Plus y'know, I think 'shy sweetheart' is a good character to have floating around for characters to have scenes with, if only to have a landing point and a friendly face to start with.

Next we have Cob Hawkins (he/him), callsign 'Wildjack', the slightly cocky and definitely goofy sensors specialist. Again, I'm allowing him to be a little trope-y as the goofball who can be the voice of reason when necessary. If I'm being honest I haven't put a lot of time into these characters and their personalities because I'm not sure how much the PCs will want to team up with them (or how long they're going to survive).

Finally we have Wicker Corini (they/them), callsign 'Adroit'. Wicker is going to be a more difficult character to roleplay - I plan to have them be largely nonverbal, communicating in combat with signal pings or other computer-based messages. They're the leader of the mech team, confident and talented, but definitely the kind who gets underestimated because of how quiet they are.

I've got a commission in the works right now of these three sharing a drink after battle/training, and I'm very excited for it.

There's also Dead Tom (he/it), the fourth member of the mech team, who doesn't have a portrait because he's an AI routine piloting an enormous artillery mech. He's very basic, and I'm leaving it up to the players whether they want to delve more into the possibilities there or just leave it at 'yeah it's a piloting matrix plugged into a warbot' without exploring whether, like, Dead Tom was based on a person, USED TO BE a person, IS CURRENTLY a person, etc. Again, the problem of making characters for a ttrpg campaign is that a lot of them are going to be at the mercy of the players in terms of screentime or importance or characterization.

There's a lot more but due to image limits per post (and the fact that a lot of the remaining characters have multiple pieces of art) I'll leave it here for now.

[proteesiukkonen]

Took another go at Pep’s biomechanical arm design. It’s always been hard for me to wrap my head around just how exactly the thing works and especially how it looks when the forearm twists. The knuckle braces were also very annoying to draw and not too long ago I realized they would also hamper movement so I wanted to get rid of them since it is supposed to be a medical device albeit a really low-budget one. Pretty happy with how it is now. More rambling under the cut.

So basically the problem Pepe has is the nerves in the forearm are busted and what the arm device does is compensate it by working as a support / overwrite system for electric stimuli, so basically an exoskeleton but for nerves. I don’t want to get too deep into it, because it’s all imaginative and I don’t want to mask the fantasy with poorly rationalized technobabble. So, it ‘just works like that’. But I want the inner logic of the device to be sound enough and I think the previous version lacked that.

Expanded the glove into a full sleeve that’s part of the device. Some kind of nylon/neoprene (or maybe elastane/neoprene?) mix fabric with multiple layers that hold the small wiring of the device connecting the case parts to one another. The casing offers support, but also holds the actual hardware (kind of a 80s setting so hardware takes space) and houses the docks used for the needles & sensors that connect the device to the arm. (So it’s basically installed by making holes in the skin, poking thin needles in there, pressing a button that locks the needle in place and connects it to the system, and then telling the patient very firmly to be careful and not subject those areas to great external forces that could dislocate the things.)

I’m also thinking this is like, one of the first attempts at such a device so it’s lacking a lot of UX because the development process wasn’t quite there yet. So hence the main power cords are external and just kinda held in check by additional velcro straps on the upper arm, and the wrist has to have a similar solution because the wiring just couldn’t handle that kind of stress if it was within the glove. And the whole thing is powered by a 10 cm lump of a battery. And they probably sell a special kind of dry soap powder or sanitizer spray to keep the glove from smelling to high heavens.

[eyeofnewtblog]

Weird car things that seem like common sense but maybe kind of aren’t?

So, even very experienced mechanics still come into a parts store and are like “I have no idea what this is but it still needs to be fixed” so never be ashamed to say you don’t know.

If you take only one picture of the part and bring that in, i automatically dislike you because you as a customer need to actually be able to assess that the thing you are buying is the thing you need. I’m basically going off of your words and the part picture in the system.

I personally can automatically (pun intended) see that you brought in an upper or lower control arm, a fuel pump, a starter or alternator, a tie rod end… I literally cannot find the EXACT PART unless I know what year make and model you’re looking for. Please for the love of god actually give us the year first so that we actually remember what you said you wanted.

Ladies who know nothing but have lots of questions are honestly my absolute favorite. Like, I get it, you were never interested and no one ever taught you, but now it’s suddenly keeping your from getting to work. I gotchu fam.

Ladies that get sent to pick up stuff: holy Christ on a stick, I feel for you, you were given zero information, you already have zero knowledge, any questions I ask you will absolutely not have the answers to and on top of that you look so fucking helpless and I can tell it grates o you but you’re THERE and you have ONE JOB even though you might get yelled at later and honestly that’s admirable.

If you’re getting asked a lot “is this it?” Or “is this everything?” Or even “no mas?” It means that you are, specifically, an annoying fuck wit and I would very much like to bash your face in lbecause you just made me make eight separate trips to the back for eight separate parts and honestly giving you a dose of pepper spray seems like the quickest way to make you “not my problem” but that’s heavily frowned upon I hear.

Lots and lots of people make life easier for themselves and decide to google shit before they even get to the counter. I am absolutely going to google shit in front of you like you’re a dadgum noob. Is it really actually helpful with the older crowd? Yes. Is it appropriately humbling to people my own age? Yes.

Basically, any time you need to buy a part from an auto store, come in with your VIN (take a picture of it off the engine, have the registration, insurance or title, literally doesn’t matter which, we can find a way,)

Also the easiest parts to install/replace are most kind of sensors (o2 usually, pay attention to upper or lower) pay attention to upper and lower radiator hoses, light bulbs (finger oil ruins the whole bulb so get gloves when you replace them)

Coolant doesn’t matter much but googling it before hand will help me a lot…

[burnwater13]

Grogu receiving the control stick knob from Razor Crest from the Mandalorian (out of frame). Image from The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 6, The Prisoner. Calendar by DataWorks.

Grogu sat in his hammock and tossed the knob from the control stick of the Razor Crest from one hand to the other. Well, that’s what he told other people he was doing. What he was really doing was using the Force to have the knob make short swooping trips around the bedroom, getting closer and closer to the Mandalorian without actually touching him. 

It was challenging and a lot of fun. Sure, once or twice Din Djarin managed to wake up just in the nick of time. The nick of time for Grogu, that is. He snapped that ball (knob? Who even came up with that word) back into his hand and pretended he hadn’t been doing anything at all. He didn’t want his dad to take his powers for granted and get in the habit of asking him to do more repair work around the cabin or  Jedi Ancients forbid, the N-1. 

He’d tried to help Din Djarin with some work on the N-1 once. Just the one time. He realized that the task that the Mandalorian was trying to complete required more hands than a Mandalorian was typically outfitted with and set aside the work he was doing to help his dad. Like any good son and apprentice would do. It went pretty smoothly at the start. He floated the strut up to the right height so all the bounty hunter had to do was gently push it into place and then apply the fasteners and Bobu Frik’s your uncle, it would be all done.

But, ah… that’s not how it worked. Nope. Apparently his dad had been too focused on reviewing the installation directions and hadn’t noticed that Grogu had prepped the strut for him already. Then he swung around to call for Grogu and slammed the strut with his right chest plate. That probably would have hurt anyone else but since Din Djarin was wearing his armor his chest was fine. 

However, Grogu had become slightly distracted by the progress a small flying insect had made in traversing the Mandalorian’s helmet. So Grogu was just as surprised at his dad’s sudden movement as Din Djarin had been at hitting the floating strut, which sent the strut spinning away before Grogu had it under strict and proper control again. Oops. 

What was worse was that the strut hit some ridiculously delicate part of the outer body panel of the N-1’s fuselage, putting a teeny, tiny scratch in the polish that the Mandalorian made sure was thick enough to stop a Mudhorn. Grogu could barely see it with a work light and squinting. But apparently it was the only thing the Mandalorian could see. Dank farrik!

You can imagine that after that incident, which became known as ‘How Grogu Scratched the Womp Rats out of the N-1’, Grogu had been told two things pretty emphatically. No using the Force without his dad’s permission and no helping with the N-1 without his dad’s permission. Grogu was fine with the later. He didn’t really like doing that sort of work and he sure wasn’t going to do it if he had to beg his dad for the opportunity to help. Sheesh.

However, asking to use the Force… well, that was a big problem. Grogu used the Force all the time now. He had to. That’s just how life worked on Nevarro. Need to use a privy anywhere other than the cabin or the High Magistrate’s offices? Use the Force. Make any meal for himself when his dad was off doing something, like polishing ‘The Scar’ on the N-1 trying to make it less noticeable, use the Force. (R5 had agreed with Grogu that only an electron microscope was able to sense that scratch and R5 was amazed that the Mandalorian’s sensors had setting that fine). Clean himself up after going fishing in the pond and falling in because he misjudged the slipperiness of the mud on the banks, use the Force. 

Half the time he used the Force during his daily lessons and practice sessions. It seemed silly to ask his dad for permission to a do a thing that he did at same time in the same place every day. The other half of the time he couldn’t anticipate when he might need to use the Force. Like that whole fishing fiasco. Uff.

He was just a little hungry but they already had dinner. He didn’t really want another serving of ‘rations surprise’, the surprise being that Din Djarin had managed to add some veggies to the rations that Grogu had never eaten before. Blech. So he’d gone outside to see if something tasty was hopping or swimming around. The frogs weren’t hopping but the fish were, so he went and got his fishing rod and some bait and began to fish. Now of course the bait were tiny little critters that burrowed into the side of the pond where there had been some erosion during the summer rainy season (who knew) and digging the little blighters out had made that patch of soil kind of slick and muddy but since Grogu knew it was there, he was okay. To begin with. 

Then as he worked harder and harder to catch the fish, without using the Force mind you, he kind of lost track of where that slippery patch was. That of course corresponded with the moment that some poor fish finally decided that the grubs or whatever they were, were in fact tasty and enticing. The fish struck! Grogu took a step to the side to get a better point of leverage and Womp Rats! Grogu slipped and then slid right into the pond with a substantial splash! That his dad did not hear. 

Nor did his dad hear him splashing to get out of the pond or squishing around the borders of the pond because the slope was kind of steep now that he was soaking wet, covered with pond grass and slicked up with mud. When he finally made it up to a safe place to stand and not slip, slide, slither, skid, or skate right back down into the water, his dad had just come around the corner of the cabin, holding something that Grogu couldn’t quite make out in his arms. 

Grogu decided right then that he had to use the Force to get clean before his dad got the idea that Grogu needed a quick, brisk shower in icy cold water to help with the problem. Quick because the Mandalorian never did anything slowly, other than polish the N-1 and brisk because the hose on the outside of the cabin didn’t provide warm water and no way was Din Djarin letting him in the cabin with so much mud attached to him. 

With time to reflect, Grogu realized that he should have waited for his dad to put whatever he was carrying some place safe, as well as, give him just enough time to go after the hose, which was on the other side of the cabin from the pond, before he cleaned up. But that’s not how things went and the Mandalorian had spent a week picking mud and pond grasses out of his vambraces and helmet after Grogu used the Force to remove all the junk from his coverall. Well… it had to go somewhere… conservation of mass and all that. But the real problem was the thing his dad was carrying was a very delicate and complicated bit of the N-1’s navigation control panel that he wanted to work on inside the cabin to keep it from getting dirty. Oops.

That of course was why he’d tried to help his dad with the N-1 at all. To make up for ‘Mud-ageddon’. It seemed like a good idea at the time. At least he tried. Right? How was he to know that the Force had a sense of humor?

[fanfoolishness]

Weaponized (Jedi: Survivor)

For @incorrectpizza. Thank you for the prompt! Here's what I came up with:

BD-1 receives new information about Cal on Nova Garon, and he struggles to understand what this means for Cal. BD perspective, ~1800 words, angst, dark side powers. And major Jedi: Survivor spoilers!

incorrectpizza asked:

BD, Nova Garon, shivering? Not sure if that combo will make anything click in your fic writer brain, but figured I'd send something just in case...everything on your prompt list was really great, so hard to pick three.

-

Multiple data streams coursed through BD-1 at any given moment, analytical processes compiling, sorting, categorizing to create an understanding of a situation.  He perched on Cal’s back in Bode’s Imperial officer quarters on Nova Garon, and he was forced to compile many, many things at once.

The easiest thing he needed to understand was the map, and the way back to the ship.  That was all surface level, simple calculations BD could handle even when powered down.  That was easy.

Far more complex was the problem of understanding Bode.  Bode had taken his daughter and ran from a confrontation with Cal, and BD was attempting to process what had happened.  

Cal had tried to talk, and Bode Akuna had fled.  Bode Akuna, who had always treated BD-1 with kindness.  Bode Akuna, who had called Cal important words like “brother.”  Bode Akuna, who had pulled BD’s Master Cordova aside, who had aimed a blaster at him, who had fired at point blank range.  Bode Akuna, who had threatened BD-1 after he tried to help his master.  Bode Akuna, who Cal said had caused Cere to die.

Dead meant no return.  It meant no rebooting, no correction, no healing, no recovery.  It meant gone.  His friends Master Cordova and Cere were gone.

BD did not, could not understand it.  He ran the information backwards and forwards, a whir under the surface that did not rest.  He had had many empathy circuits added, treasures from Master Cordova installed long ago.  But he did not have -- rage.  Anger.  He could not calculate them, and instead there was only a terrible hollowness arcing through his circuits.  A sense of something -- someone -- missing.  It was a feeling he had never identified before in all his cycles.

But missing Master Cordova, and Cere, and the bubbling confusion about Bode, it all hummed in the background.  For now he clung to the back of Cal’s clothing, a stolen Imperial officer’s uniform, and BD knew that something was very wrong.

Biometrics from Cal were easy to pick up from this close vicinity.  Respiration, heart rate, body temperature, they were all simple to read at this distance.  It helped him to help Cal; countless times he had had a stim ready to go, waiting only for Cal’s command, as he watched vital signs spike to dangerous levels.  

Cal ran from Bode’s quarters.  There were no troopers here, not yet, though BD knew that they were coming.  BD also knew that Cal was physically unharmed.  Yet Cal’s heart rate climbed, higher and higher.  He panted, shoulders rising and falling so steeply that BD kept having to readjust his grip.  He shook as if he was desperately cold, but the ambient temperature was adequate for humans.  Every metric suggested that Cal was badly, badly wounded.

Cal charged forward into the next room, and BD braced himself for the wave of troopers coming at them.  Cal drew his lightsaber.

“Get out of my way,” he snarled.

And Cal changed.

BD’s sensors never told him, exactly, when Cal used the Force.  It was a thing that could never be sensed by his kind.  But BD had learned when to suspect it, and he was frequently correct.  Sometimes it came when Cal’s heart rate rose with effort, and sweat beaded on his head; other times his heart rate lowered as Cal focused and connected in silence.  When Cal felt a memory through the Force, BD knew sometimes it staggered him, shifted his balance, disoriented him; BD would wait patiently for Cal to come back.  All of this was familiar to him after these many rotations together.

BD had never seen him use the Force like this.

It was all BD could do to hold on tight as Cal stormed through the room, lightsaber flashing, his breath fast and choppy.  He was used to Cal moving unpredictably by what his parameters listed as normal human standards, jumping higher and farther and faster than they were supposed to, recovering more quickly, withstanding more injury.  

Even with that baseline for reference, Cal whirred through the room at speeds that seemed impossible for an organic, while the droids and troopers surrounding them moved sluggishly as if paralyzed.  BD knew how many swings and parries it should take for certain enemies to fall when Cal engaged them.  Their training and armor, as well as Cal’s own fighting style, created a reliable average.  They were not following the average now.

Trooper after trooper fell after a single blow, their arms severed, their circuits sparking, their bodies limp.  BD clung tighter.  After less than a minute, Cal stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the dead.

Cal normally took a moment after a battle to stop.  He called it centering himself.  He would usually check in with BD, patch up, and meditate briefly -- a few seconds -- enough to help himself “reset.”  For an instant, BD waited for the pause, hoping it would help Cal’s vitals normalize.

He did not rest.  He did not reset.  He screamed “Bode!” in a strained, terrible voice, and he ran.  

He only skidded to a stop in front of a vast blast door, triple-locked with massive round bolts. BD tried to beep a warning to Cal.  These doors didn’t look sliceable with his regular setup.  They would have to find another way --

Cal flung out his hands, fingers curling and shaking with effort.  He twisted his hands into the air, groaning, and the doors groaned too, their massive locks straining, shearing, sparking.  With a growl Cal hurled his hands wide and the door shrieked open, the gnarled wreckage of the locks flying into the walls with a loud clatter.

Cal was running again.  “Have to hurry,” he spat. Troopers, Purge troopers, and probe droids poured from the next doorway towards him.  BD readied a stim.  

Cal wrapped his arms around himself tightly, then pushed out.  BD did not need the Force to understand that Cal had used it again, to see the way he flew and struck and shattered the enemies before them.  BD dug in deeper against Cal’s back, hoping Cal would remember that he was there, but Cal’s vitals crested even higher, into the red.  

The last stormtrooper crumpled beneath his lightsaber, and Cal bellowed, “Bode!”

BD watched as Cal approached another sealed blast door, as he strained and ripped the door apart. He struggled to assimilate this new data.  Perhaps these were simply new powers in the Force that Cal had acquired.  It had happened many times during their journeys together, that suddenly Cal moved in an unexpected way or the environment changed around them abruptly.  Usually all it took was a simple “Broop?” from BD for Cal to explain something had shifted, that he had remembered something old, or learned something new.

He tried a little beep.  It went unanswered, and he clung to Cal, bouncing on his back as Cal sprinted.

Again, the lightsaber flashed.  The troopers fell, their falls unnaturally slow.  Again Cal’s heart rate spiked uncomfortably high.  Cal took a hit and staggered back, clapping a hand to his shoulder.

“I need a stim, BD!” Cal snapped.

BD tossed him the readied stim as quickly as ever, but his circuits whirred, analyzing Cal’s voice.  BD knew he didn’t understand all of the intricacies of human vocalizations, but… Cal didn’t talk that way to BD.  

He just didn’t. 

Cal took the stim, and he kept fighting.

--

BD hopped up to Cal’s back.  Cal stood over Commander Denvik, who lay choking on the ground, his breath ragged.

“Give the Inquisitors my regards,” said Cal, his voice flat and cold.  He turned away to head them back to the Mantis, and BD’s processors whirred mightily, trying to create sense of everything that had just happened. 

Bode had hurt Cal.  He had hurt all of them.  He was trying to keep them from finding a place safe from the Empire, from Tanalorr.

Cere and Master Cordova were dead.  Gone.  This had hurt Cal more than many injuries.  

Tanalorr was being taken away from Cal and their friends, and they were scared.

This information all made sense, though there were still some parts that were confusing.  BD did not know if he would ever understand what had made Bode do these things.  He did not know if he could understand what Cal was doing, either.

Cal had hurt Commander Denvik.  Cal had to hurt many people to survive, to protect his family.  BD understood that much.  But he had never seen Cal hold a person in the air like this with the Force.  He had never seen him scream like that.

He had seen Inquisitors do that.

Even Merrin, who BD knew used the Force in a different way than Cal and Cere and Master Cordova, had been frightened.  Though BD was not usually close enough to get her vitals, he still recognized that normally Merrin was calm and cool.  The way she had pled and shouted for Cal to stop was not normal.  

BD did not know if he could feel fear like an organic could.  But he felt something twitching through his circuits, a collation of the data, a worrisome conclusion.  Cal was hurt on the inside, where a stim or a friendly beep could not help him.  He was hurt very badly.

Cal stalked towards the exit, sensing the right path without needing BD’s map.  BD leaned his head over Cal’s shoulder, tapping him with one leg.  “Boop?” he asked.  Are you okay?

“I’m all right,” said Cal, struggling with the words.  His shoulders heaved; he was still trying to catch his breath.

“Beep?”  Are you sure?

“I’m fine, buddy.”  He swallowed.  His voice cracked.  “You don’t have to worry about me.”

BD cared very much about Cal.  If his empathy circuits produced something like love, love was absolutely what he felt for Cal.  He would always love him, no matter what.

But he knew worry, now.  Worry that Cal was different.  Worry that all the hurt showing in his vitals could come out, that the hurt itself could be a weapon. Not only that, but perhaps the weapon was one that Cal did not know how to control.  A weapon that scared Merrin; a weapon that could hurt Cal, too.

BD-1 settled down against Cal’s shoulder, thrumming with twin streams of love and worry.  He let out one more little beep.  Please be careful.

Cal stopped, reaching up to touch BD’s foot.  He took a deep breath.  His heart rate slowly, slowly lowered, and when he spoke, he sounded like Cal again.

“I will, Beedee.  …Promise.”

[chevvy-yates]

WIP Wednesday

got tagged by @wanderingaldecaldo. Thank you dear <3

What can I show you now?

1st.

A week ago I saw Kala released a new(er) eye mod all with white rings like Ryder has. I was tempted to try out some specific ice blue ones on Ry. Voilà:

For those who do not know; Ryder's original eyes had been ice blue (some visual trait that runs in the von Scharfenberg family for centuries). For reference here's him in 2066 again:

A more or less shorter history how Ry's actual eye mod came to be used:

When I created him my original thought was to give him yellow eyes (Kakto eyes – eden on sacred geometry) because I once again got inspired by Supernatural — yup the yellow-eyed demon xD. But back then I could not get the supposed eye mod to work. Vijay's eye mod however worked without any problems and so I selected Ryder's gray ones with the white ring instead he kept until today and is going to keep them as well (unless a better mod comes out or I can manage to edit them in some way because they sometimes look a bit lifeless - to less contrast or sth.). My plan was to have V's and Ry's mods not conflicting so I do not need to drag and drop in and out all the time (but this was wishful thinking).

The ice blue ones however might be a thing I may want to use on past days Ryder (2071—74). It requires me to rewrite some minor parts and retake some pics (I want to redo some day anyway) but it makes sense to me: He's had ice blue, then changed them to ice blue with a white ring and some time later got his gray ones he got now installed to match his overall dark dress code.

buuuuuut

I gotta say like them on him, he makes me weak — yet the white ring doesn't come through so nicely as in his gray ones, so he looks less intimidating in my opinion. And to be intimidating is what he wants in the first place, so people stay away. So gotta keep those darker ones. <3

2nd.

Thyjs sneak peak:

3rd. Another snippet? Another snippet:

The next second, he is kissed all the way down along his chest by warm darkened lips and every inch of the wet traces left by Ryder’s tongue seemed to burn on his skin. The fangs ensure to arouse his skin even more. De Wit manages to kick his clothes completely off his legs and just decided to pull those damn Jinguji briefs down too, so he could remove it from the younger man’s hips now that Ry was on top. The younger man aimed for traveling down south, and his tongue could instantly feel the change of surface, moving from sweet tasting, almost silky warm skin over to colder hardened cyberware tasting rather metallic yet still exciting while he scratched his nails along his chest and soon they followed down along the wet kissed path Ry’s tongue left. “Never tasted a metal belly.” “It’s just metal,” Thy answers as he feels Ry’s tongue exploring now the part where a navel was supposed to be. Nonetheless, Thyjs let out a satisfying sigh. It felt completely different, since the sensors under the metallic cyberware only told him, there’s some rather soft pressure right now, but watching Ry doing it, and how he’s doing it, makes Thyjs go almost crazy making him say “I almost pity now I replaced my belly to be stronger.” Ry looks up with a mischievous grin. “Guess I need to go explore somewhere else then where there is more sensation, hm?” he asks and proceeds further making his lover gasp even more.

tagging:

@morganlefaye79, @wraithsoutlaws, @kittenchrissy, @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @elvenbeard, @therealnightcity, @humberg, @theviridianbunny, @genocidalfetus and @gloryride

no pressure as always!

[sekhisadventures]

Business is Booming

Bilgewater Harbor, Savage United Headquarters

Grimo sat at his desk in the front room of the mercenary office, grumbling to himself. A lit cigar stuck out of the corner of his mouth, an overflowing ashtray on the table next to a half full can of Kaja Cola and three empty ones, as he sorted through the newest contracts to come in… in the past hour.

The Radiant Song had both the Horde and Alliance on edge, everyone was seeing the visions Azeroth was sending (even if only in their dreams in the case of those who weren’t magically inclined) and it was causing chaos. Hard to pretend life was normal when the very planet you lived on seemed to be having a panic attack. Dustwallow Marsh, the Searing Gorge, Northrend, trouble was popping up all over… which meant that mercenaries were needed to step in where the Horde Military or the local guard forces could not.

Of course, that also meant that Grimo ran into a new problem with those. He had to be very choosey with his contracts as Savage United was only seven members (eight if you counted Darkhoof, seven and a bit there really.) There was only so much they could do, especially if a job called for more than one person.

It had only been a few short months since Fyrakk’s defeat and things were already on edge again, Azeroth set to stare down yet another potential apocalypse.

“… story of my fuckin’ life…” grumbled the goblin, stubbing out the cigar in the mound of ash, causing some to spill on the table, and immediately pulling out a fresh one.

He glanced up as a proximity light went off next to the desk (he’d had some motion sensors set up after Gremori and Az’arad’s attack,) and saw the familiar massive frame of Nitika pass by the newly installed window before she ducked through the doorway.

“Well?” he grunted.

“Job’s done.” she nodded, depositing forty percent to the copper of her reward on Grimo’s desk. “Some satyr who’d been hiding out in Ashenvale got some funny ideas and were kidnapping peons to sacrifice for power. That’s where they’d been vanishing to.”

Grimo nodded, “Hm. Good work.” he muttered, flipping through the contracts again.

Nitika looked at him, raising her eyebrow. “Grimo, we don’t have to consider every single contract that hits your counter you know. The guilds are all up to their ears in them too.” she pointed out, “We’ve all been running across Kalimdor ever since this started, we can take a break.”

“Sez you Dawnhoof.” grumbled the goblin, “Paying for repairs after Gremori ‘n Az’arad fucked this place up wasn’t cheap.”

Nitika’s eye twitched, and then she thumped the base of her staff against the floor and leaned down, staring at him across the counter. Grimo glanced up, then hesitated. Her eyes had turned purple again.

“It also wasn’t this expensive Grimo.” replied Darkhoof in a very pointed way, “I’ve been keeping track and I know we paid off the repairs at least a month or two back. The elemental spirits in Durotar that Sekhi managed to calm down, the feral undead that escaped when we took out that Lich in Felwood, the pirates that tried to raid Ratchet that Galdia helped drive away… we’re back in the black and you know it.”

Grimo put the contracts down, then took a deep pull of his cigar. “One, stay outta my damn books Darkhoof.” he grunted, though without much force behind it. He knew that Nitika’s darker self wouldn’t hold back from smacking him if she felt it was warranted.

“Two…” he added, feeling more confident here, “We’re in the black FOR NOW. Yeah Dissonantia is a pile of bones in th’ Void, but we know her pet demon hunter ‘n two of her demons fucked off before we could get rid of them! I dunno if they’ll try to get revenge, but I ain’t counting on ‘em just deciding to ‘forgive ‘n forget.’” he nodded, “Then there’s that crazy elf bitch who’s gunnin’ for Sam. I’m pretty damn sure she’d recognize Mola’raum ‘n Ed if she ever bumped into ‘em in Orgrimmar after runnin’ into ‘em in th’ Azure Span. Hard to forget a zombie troll with a busted tusk and glowin’ eyes, ‘n th’ Forsaken worked with th’ Blood Elves all th’ time so yeah, she might actually remember Ed. Nevermind we have a fuckin’ TIME TRAVELLING asshole who wants us all dead for some crazy fuckin’ reason we don’t even damn well KNOW!”

He stood up on his chair so his head was closer to Nitika’s now, then thrust out with the hand holding the cigar, the tauren actually having to step back as she was momentarily overwhelmed by a smell akin to burning socks.

“THREE. Those are our problems SO FAR. This fuckin’ song has everyone freakin’ out! Sekhi is barely even sleepin’ anymore, Laura is constantly whinin’ about how tired she is from all th’ visions, ‘n you know this ‘cause YOU’RE HAVIN’ ‘EM TOO!” he snapped. “All it’d take for shit to go to fel is someone big pullin’ somethin’… ‘n with this Harbinger thing everyone is whisperin’ about…” he frowned and flopped back into his chair, sticking the cigar in his mouth and pulling on it in a satisfied way, “I give it a month, tops, before we’re gonna be REALLY FUCKIN’ GLAD we have th’ funds to pay for gear repairs ‘n ingredients for Ed’s healin’ potions ‘n shit. ‘s called a warchest. We have it so when the fuckin’ war happens…” he paused to give her a meaningful look, “… ‘n we’ve both been in this long enough to know th’ war WILL happen… we’ll be ready.” he nodded firmly.

Darkhoof frowned, but she couldn’t really argue against that. Grimo was a greedy little tit, but he wasn’t an idiot. Impulsive yes, prone to making things that caused collateral damage on an impressive scale yes, but truth was the only one who had him beat in terms of outright booksmarts was Nelen himself.

“Speakin’ of war-stuffs… I’ve been meanin’ to get in touch with Fullmoon.” he nodded, sitting up. “Now that th’ Alliance ‘n Horde are all buddy-buddy, some of th’ bigger guilds are actually startin’ ta… well… invite members from th’ other side.”

Nitika cocked her head at that, “Wait, you mean that ‘warband’ thing we’ve been hearing about?” she asked.

Grimo nodded, “Eh I didn’t come up with th’ fuckin’ name… but yeah, that. After Fyrakk’s bullshit ‘n with Iridikron vanishing to who fuckin’ knows where its really hittin’ home, even with the stubborn old guard, that th’ Alliance ain’t the biggest threat to us anymore. We’ve been workin’ together fer ages anyways, may as well consider an actual on-paper business partnership. We got th’ verbal agreement, we team up all the fuckin’ time…” he shrugged, waving a hand as cigar ash drifted onto the floor to join an ever-growing pile near his chair, “… formality really.”

Nitika nodded, rubbing her chin as her eyes returned to their normal golden hue. “Mm… That does sound like a good idea. I’ve been wanting to see Dareley again anyways. I helped heal him after Dissonantia’s spell almost killed him… but… I keep getting this weird feeling he’s not telling us something.”

Grimo looked up at her, “Eh? Whats up with Steelhammer?” he asked.

Nitika frowned, “I don’t know… but that spell that Dissonantia hit him with, I’d never seen anything like it. A mix of fel magic and voidcraft… we healed him as best we could, but… I don’t know, I’d just feel better if I could check.” she nodded.

Grimo shrugged, putting out his cigar, then picking up the half-full can and taking a long gulp from it. “Eh, I think Sekhi’s kid sister is supposed to meet Fullmoon soon in Dalaran ain’t she? That tutorin’ thing? Might hop a portal over there ‘n have a word with him if I get th’ chance.”

Nitika nodded, “Yes, that’s… actually I think it might be today…” she replied, glancing up thoughtfully as she tried to remember the schedule for that. Leza tended to get pretty excited about it when it came up, the vulpera girl eager to learn more about spellcraft when she could…

Grimo glanced at his can, “… eh, maybe next one then. Gotta restock my ‘fuel.’” he smirked, crunching the can in his hand and tossing it behind him into a pile of empties almost as big as he was.

Orgrimmar

Indeed, Leza was preparing to head out, gathering up her wand and spellbook as she gave her mother a quick hug goodbye and began to make her way towards the portal room near the entrance to the city.

The Alliance and Horde maintained pathways between all major points of interest, useful when they needed to muster in a hurry after all, but even then it was just convenient to be able to travel quickly.

Last time Nelen had begun teaching her how to polymorph, a rather complicated form of magic but one that could very well save a mage’s life. She’d heard some horror stories about how the spell could kill something if gone awry (make a sheep but forget to change their lungs for example,) but Nelen had waved those away. The real problem was that it was a difficult spell to cast so that it’d have an effect at all. Most creatures were very much locked into their forms, and convincing reality to forget that something shouldn’t be a sheep was the real trick. Even if one pulled it off, any sudden sharp shock to the target would cause a sort of innate survival instinct to kick in and break the spell almost immediately.

He'd brought a few mice he’d managed to catch at Avalon House for her to practice on, but so far all she’d managed was to make a grey mouse turn into a white one. It’d take time to really master the spell.

As she drew close she came across a familiar face. Laurelgosa, currently Laura Brightflame in her visage form, was heading to Dalran as well.

“Hey Laura!” she smiled cheerfully, waving to her.

“Good afternoon Leza.” nodded the dracthyr. “Heading to Dalaran?” she asked.

“Yupyup!” she grinned, her tail swishing, “Nelen is teachin’ me how to polymorph stuffs!” she replied.

Laura nodded, “A complicated spell. He must feel you are showing great aptitude to be teaching you such an incantation already.”

“What’re you doin’ today?” she asked, blushing visibly through her sandy fur at the praise.

“Samantha offered to meet with me for drinks in Dalaran, I decided to take her up on this offer and we are going to meet today.” she smiled, the dracthyr blushing a bit herself. In spite of the elf’s ties to the void she had found that she and Samantha shared something unspoken when they had met each other in that alternate timeline. Not something good, but it had made the dracthyr wonder if they might not share more…

As the two headed into the portal, across the great sea, two more people were heading towards Dalaran as well.

Stormwind City, Mage District

Nelen Fullmoon walked along the path to the mage tower and its portal chamber. Next to him was indeed the void elf woman Samantha Montebank. “Drinks with Laurelgosa you say?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, well… its nice to have someone I can relate to when it comes to shitty dads, you know?” she shrugged.

Nelen frowned, “Mm… yes. I still can’t believe Danaforth Wintersky of all people…” he muttered, then yelped a bit in surprise, a very wolflike yelp, as Samantha smacked him in the arm.

“Believe it Nelen. You just knew the legend. I lived with him. Yeah yeah, he was a hero of Quel’thalas and saved a lot of lives and blah blah blah…” she waved a hand dismissively, frowning, “… but nobody knew what he did at home. He made damn sure nobody did. I’d bet even if I tried to tell the truth about him in Quel’thalas my bitch of a sister would shut it down hard.”

Nelen cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, nodding, “Well… I suppose the important thing is that those abuses are a thing of the past now.” replied the magus awkwardly.

Samantha shrugged, “Yeah… yeah. Just bad memories now, and best thing for bad memories is a lotta booze and someone to gripe with.” she replied with a smirk.

Nelen nodded, blowing out his lips a bit but not saying anything otherwise. Finding out someone who you knew as a childhood hero could be such a terrible person was never fun, but he didn’t doubt that Samantha was telling the truth. Hell, she’d showed them the scars.

As they drew close to the tower he nodded, “Well, hopefully the two of you can just enjoy a nice drink together while Leza and I go over her lessons.” he nodded.

However… such things were not necessarily meant to be…

Orgrimmar, the Vulpera Wagons

Sekhi lay in her family’s wagon, the shamaness trying to get in a quick nap. Sleep had not come easily for her lately. She had always been sensitive to the voice of Azeroth, and now that it was crying out for all to hear it was a constant problem for her. She had managed to complete her last job for Savage United, helping to soothe some fire elementals threatening to burn down a section of Ashenvale Forest, but now she was exhausted.

For anyone who could see her expression, however, it was clear her dreams were not pleasant ones.

“Nnnh…” she grunted in her sleep, turning over as her brow furrowed, her teeth gritted.

A flash of light, a swarm of giant spider-like creatures.

Another flash of light, the grinning leering face of a void elf woman.

Another flash of light, something huge falling from the sky.

Hear me…

“Mnh… whuh…” mumbled the shaman in her sleep.

Flash. The spider-like creatures again.

Flash. The void elf, laughing in triumph as chaos erupted around her.

Flash. The huge object drawing closer to the land, flames billowing over it and screams carrying across the landscape.

Hear me!

“Where… what…” gasped out Sekhi, the vulpera tossing and turning now.

Flash. Spider-like humanoids. Monstrous ones, huge ones, grasping claws and poison dripping from their fangs.

Flash. The void elf… no… not an elf at all. Something far older. Something older than the world as they knew it.

Flash. The object… not an object, too big to be one thing. Many things. Buildings, spires…

HEAR ME!!!

Sekhi whined as if caught in the darkest of nightmares, but she was too exhausted from all that had happened and how little she'd been sleeping. In spite of these visions she couldn’t wake up!

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