#State Variable Filter

[windvexer]

Lowering Wards: Steps for new and established spells

"Lowering" a ward means to temporarily pause some or all of its protective effects, usually to make way for other magical actions or divination; "lowering the draw-bridge." Here, a ward is any protective spell.

Although these steps will work for just about any spell. An alternate title for this post is, basic spell administration: managing your spells after they've been cast.

The whole caboodle is deceptively easy. No need to over think it.

Lowering any wards, even for spells not established with convenient lowering in mind

SELECT WHICH EFFECTS SHOULD BE PAUSED. Hypothetically, a ward with multiple effects can have some effects paused, while others are ongoing (*this is highly variable and really depends on how the spell was built).

But technically, if you have a ward that's A) no magic can come into my house, and B) no energies of ill-will can come into my house, you may be able to allow magic to come into your house while a friend sends a positive spell your way, while still filtering out ill-will.

In my experience, protection loopholes are a bit of a beast, and if your magic starts behaving weirdly, or won't work, or friends can't magic on you like they can for others, check out to see if you've sealed yourself in a labyrinth of protective measures.

Sometimes you'll want to pause all effects - that's fine too. Just have in mind what you want to have happen.

IMO, an excellent way to deal with this step is to just state what it is you want the ward to allow for.

"Let this Discord friend do a reading for me."

"Make way for this spirit to leave the house."

Etc.

TAKE ANY BASIC STEP TO MANAGE YOUR MAGIC.

Enter, or at least brush up against, magical mindspace.

Find the spell - this is easier if its attached to a physical object, which just means finding the object.

While in magical mindspace and interacting with the reality that your spell exists, do any of the following:

Just tell it what you'd like it to temporarily do

Put a black cloth over the spell vessel with intent that it be paused

Hide it away in a drawer, or turn it so that it's "facing" a corner

Draw some sort of stopping symbol on top of it (pentagram or an X work well)

Put the ward close to an energy battery and have it take a break and go out for lunch

Any action that, for you, makes sense to represent a "pause, time-out" instruction

WHEN READY, PUT THE WARD BACK UP. Take away the black cloth, put the ward back in its proper position, "wipe away" the blocking symbol. Especially communicate through magical speech, thought, writing, signing, etc., that the ward is to resume its normal mode of behavior.

For those curious about sorcerous theory, reading on a ward before and after you raise and lower it can offer helpful feedback

Of course, that stuff might not work well, so making a ward with an eye for pausing it is a good idea

Spellcrafting can get complex and there could be any number of reasons why a ward created to be a permanent wall doesn't have convenient, easily-workable drawbridges.

Building a ward with drawbridges is easy. First, decide how you want the drawbridge to work.

You can design a ward where one effect ("no ill-energy") is always active, while another is meant to be raised and lowered ("no outside magic.")

You can design a ward with a skeleton key, where all of the doorways are unlocked at once

You can design wards in such a way that outsiders may be able to obtain the key and unlock them (like, a passcode and energy signature you share with others), or you can design them in such a way that only you can unlock them (like, requiring you yourself to draw a symbol over them in the physical realm)

Etc.

One example of an unlocking action is tapping on the spell vessel three times and saying, "stand down until sunset* so [specific thing the ward is blocking] can occur."

*For the forgetful, giving the spell a timeframe is useful.

When casting the spell, whenever the time feels right, go into a portion where you 'teach' the spell how to listen for your instructions to lower defenses, and how it should operate when this occurs. ("Never stay unlocked beyond the next twilight; the guards named No Bane are eternal, but the guards named No Spying sometimes lie down to rest.")

You can always go back and "open up" old spells to modify loopholes and improve unlocking mechanisms

My paradigm allows for certain things:

Most spells are not so much mindless machines but rather are more like garden plots, or animals. They may be bad at performing a certain thing the first time you ask them to, but over multiple lessons, even a very stubborn spell might learn a new trick.

Therefore, it can take time to teach a spell how to do something new that it wasn't designed to do.

Learning can be improved by holding a formal class. This is the equivalent of taking the spell back into spellcasting space and partially re-casting new magic on top of the old base.

The gist of re-forging an old spell is to carefully outline what you want to change, remove, and add. Using your preferred spellcasting or ritual format, connect with the spell and provide new parameters.

I find this process to be different than casting an entirely new spell, so I think it's normal if it all seems a bit different.

Provide the spell with more energy, tie off the ritual as normal, and deploy the spell immediately or give it a little time to firm up, as you prefer.

[mieberoc]

Title: The Sealing of Dorian

The chamber was silent save for the low hiss of air being filtered through thick black rubber. Dorian stood alone, his form encased head to toe in the reflective, constricting suit, the faint outline of his face barely visible behind the twin lenses of the gas mask. He could feel his breath cycle—drawn in with effort, released with resistance—as though even respiration now required permission.

He had signed the agreement willingly, or so the archive would state. Voluntary integration. No force, no coercion. The truth was more complicated.

Dorian hadn’t expected the transition to feel like this—so complete, so absolute. The suit had been warm when first applied, laid out in folded precision on the sanitised bench. Instructions were clinical: disrobe fully, step into the inner lining, pull tight the rear seal. A thick layer of lubricant aided the second skin in swallowing him whole. There were no zips on the back; once it was on, it was on for good. The front zip, he was told, was symbolic—an illusion of choice.

Once enclosed, the respirator was pressed to his face, the seal instant. He was told to remain calm as the straps were pulled tight and locked. The lenses misted for a moment, then cleared with the filtered airflow. That was when he realised how deeply isolated he now was. Even his own voice, had he tried to speak, would go unheard—absorbed and silenced by the mouthpiece and its cold mechanical hush.

It wasn’t punishment. That’s what they always emphasised. It was rebirth.

Dorian had been selected for his compliance, his adaptability, his willingness to follow protocol. He was not dangerous. He was useful. The suit enhanced that usefulness—eliminated variables, removed needs. No more hunger, no more rest, no more casual distractions. It focused him. Contained him.

Standing in the mirror-lined decontamination pod, he took a moment to observe himself. The glossy black shell distorted the human shape ever so slightly—no seams, no signs of skin or identity. Just the standardised, featureless silhouette of the Converted. The only remnant of the man he had once been were his eyes, peering out behind thick lenses, calm and steady.

There would be tasks now—assignments delivered via visual prompt only, responded to with gloved actions and silent obedience. He was expected to serve indefinitely. When? Where? That was no longer a question he needed to ask. His identity had been pared down to something cleaner, simpler.

Just Dorian. Just the suit. Just function.

He raised his phone—one final image to mark the completion of his process. A quiet record for the archive, or perhaps for someone far off who might remember him not as a number, but as a name.

And then, with a low tone from the intercom and the clunk of magnetic locks disengaging, Dorian stepped out into the corridor. Ready. Silent. Sealed.

[loredrinker]

What Story Shall We Tell? Solas and Perspective

I love exploring characterization, perception, and bias inVeilguard - especially through Solas.

His character, like the particle-wave experiment, exists in infinite possibilities until observed, collapsing into a single interpretation shaped by our individual perspective. The variability of world states alone ensures no single personal definition of Solas can ever be complete.

Instead, Solas himself asks: what do we believe about him, and how much of that belief is shaped by the lens through which we choose to view him? 

“And what story shall we tell now?”

Look at him, smiling with that question - so aware, so amused by the endless parade of perceptions about him. That sexy little smirk knowing perceptions will shift again and again.

Through Inquisition and Veilguard 

For players first meeting Solas in Inquisition, he could be many things: a mysterious and thoughtful apostate, a philosophical and introspective figure burdened by sadness, or an arrogant, holier-than-thou bastard. Some players chose friendship or romance, while others couldn't wait to punch his smug face. Inquisition introduced Solas as a companion first, leaving us players to interpret him on our own terms. 

In Veilguard, Solas steps into the role of antagonist, a figure burdened by guilt, hubris and regret, his actions monumental and dangerous. For new players, this mythic trickster god is their first impression, while returning players see an evolution of the character they thought they knew. Those who loved his philosophical insights and moments of vulnerability are now confronted with a hardened, darker version of him. Those who disliked his arrogance feel vindicated, their disdain seemingly justified. And some players who once found him annoying, now find themselves drawn to him.

What’s so interesting to me is how Veilguard retroactively reshapes how we view Inquisition. Suddenly, we’re looking back at a game that came out 10 years ago. Time itself can shift perspectives. How have we, as players, changed since we first experienced his story 10 or even 5 years ago? How do we interpret him and his actions differently now, knowing him in Veilguard?

Game Mechanisms

I think that’s what I enjoy about these two differing gameplay mechanics - Inquisition and Veilguard both play a role in shaping how we perceive Solas.  

In Inquisition, Solas’s role as a companion allows players to form a direct, one-on-one relationship with him, spending as much time with him as they choose. His identity (the identity the game wants us to know) is revealed in real time, through dialogue and experiences. When his identity as Fen’Harel is finally unveiled, the moment has impact. For some players, it might shatter a bond they had built with him. For others, it confirms their dislike, while for some, it intensifies their fascination with him. 

In Veilguard, this game mechanism shifts. Players encounter Solas primarily through Rook’s interactions and fragmented memories scattered throughout the game. We as the player are asked to examine Solas through layers of filters. Rook’s dream/meditative state in talking to Solas creates ambiguity. Are they authentic communications, shaped by Solas's intent? Are they distorted reflections of Rook’s own thoughts and biases about Solas? Or are they manipulated by external forces, like blood magic or the Fade itself?  Players are left to interpret this how they want - some finding these conversations deliberately misleading, while others dive deeper into symbolic meaning, seeking hidden truths.

Solas’s Fragmented Life and Regrets 

Adding to this complexity are Solas’s regrets, offering glimpses into his past, incomplete and subjective. Painted from his own perspective and from memory, these murals are infused with emotions providing only a window into choices he has made. Their meaning is further filtered through the observations of Rook and their companions (us).

Solas’s immortality and his life in ancient Elvhenan are equally elusive, revealed only in these fragments and Solas's own words or codexes. The murals offer an incomplete and biased picture of his past. It is impossible to fully understand this being whose life spans millennia.

Solas’s New Design Is Shaping Our View of Him 

Even Solas’s visual design in Veilguard plays into these themes, highlighting how aesthetics influence bias. His polished, imposing new look projects authority and allure, contrasting sharply with the unassuming apostate we met in Inquisition. His “glow-up,” making some players more drawn to him - even if they disliked or didn't find him attractive in Inquisition.

Changes in posture, clothing, and visual cues evoke entirely different emotional responses. His new design might compel players to subconsciously reevaluate him, raising questions about how much of our perception is shaped by his appearance versus his actions.

Returning to Solas’s question - “What story shall we tell now?” - perhaps the answer lies in accepting that no story can fully contain him. And that is what makes him so delicious.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

By Vijay Kumar Malesu

In a recent pre-print study posted to bioRxiv*, a team of researchers investigated the predictive role of gut microbiome composition during acute Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome Coronavirus 2 (SARS-CoV-2) infection in the development of Long Coronavirus Disease (Long COVID) (LC) and its association with clinical variables and symptom clusters.

Background LC affects 10–30% of non-hospitalized individuals infected with SARS-CoV-2, leading to significant morbidity, workforce loss, and an economic impact of $3.7 trillion in the United States (U.S.).

Symptoms span cardiovascular, gastrointestinal, cognitive, and neurological issues, resembling myalgic encephalomyelitis and other post-infectious syndromes. Proposed mechanisms include immune dysregulation, neuroinflammation, viral persistence, and coagulation abnormalities, with emerging evidence implicating the gut microbiome in LC pathogenesis.

Current studies focus on hospitalized patients, limiting generalizability to milder cases. Further research is needed to explore microbiome-driven predictors in outpatient populations, enabling targeted diagnostics and therapies for LC’s heterogeneous and complex presentation.

About the study The study was approved by the Mayo Clinic Institutional Review Board and recruited adults aged 18 years or older who underwent SARS-CoV-2 testing at Mayo Clinic locations in Minnesota, Florida, and Arizona from October 2020 to September 2021. Participants were identified through electronic health record (EHR) reviews filtered by SARS-CoV-2 testing schedules.

Eligible individuals were contacted via email, and informed consent was obtained. Of the 1,061 participants initially recruited, 242 were excluded due to incomplete data, failed sequencing, or other issues. The final cohort included 799 participants (380 SARS-CoV-2-positive and 419 SARS-CoV-2-negative), providing 947 stool samples.

Stool samples were collected at two-time points: weeks 0–2 and weeks 3–5 after testing. Samples were shipped in frozen gel packs via overnight courier and stored at −80°C for downstream analyses. Microbial deoxyribonucleic acid (DNA) was extracted using Qiagen kits, and metagenomic sequencing was performed targeting 8 million reads per sample.

Taxonomic profiling was conducted using Kraken2, and functional profiling was performed using the Human Microbiome Project Unified Metabolic Analysis Network (HUMAnN3).

Stool calprotectin levels were measured using enzyme-linked immunosorbent assay (ELISA), and SARS-CoV-2 ribonucleic acid (RNA) was detected using reverse transcription-quantitative polymerase chain reaction (RT-qPCR).

Clinical data, including demographics, comorbidities, medications, and symptom persistence, were extracted from EHRs.

Machine learning models incorporating microbiome and clinical data were utilized to predict LC and to identify symptom clusters, providing valuable insights into the heterogeneity of the condition.

Study results The study analyzed 947 stool samples collected from 799 participants, including 380 SARS-CoV-2-positive individuals and 419 negative controls. Of the SARS-CoV-2-positive group, 80 patients developed LC during a one-year follow-up period.

Participants were categorized into three groups for analysis: LC, non-LC (SARS-CoV-2-positive without LC), and SARS-CoV-2-negative. Baseline characteristics revealed significant differences between these groups. LC participants were predominantly female and had more baseline comorbidities compared to non-LC participants.

The SARS-CoV-2-negative group was older, with higher antibiotic use and vaccination rates. These variables were adjusted for in subsequent analyses.

During acute infection, gut microbiome diversity differed significantly between groups. Alpha diversity was lower in SARS-CoV-2-positive participants (LC and non-LC) than in SARS-CoV-2-negative participants.

Beta diversity analyses revealed distinct microbial compositions among the groups, with LC patients exhibiting unique microbiome profiles during acute infection.

Specific bacterial taxa, including Faecalimonas and Blautia, were enriched in LC patients, while other taxa were predominant in non-LC and negative participants. These findings indicate that gut microbiome composition during acute infection is a potential predictor for LC.

Temporal analysis of gut microbiome changes between the acute and post-acute phases revealed significant individual variability but no cohort-level differences, suggesting that temporal changes do not contribute to LC development.

However, machine learning models demonstrated that microbiome data during acute infection, when combined with clinical variables, predicted LC with high accuracy. Microbial predictors, including species from the Lachnospiraceae family, significantly influenced model performance.

Symptom analysis revealed that LC encompasses heterogeneous clinical presentations. Fatigue was the most prevalent symptom, followed by dyspnea and cough.

Cluster analysis identified four LC subphenotypes based on symptom co-occurrence: gastrointestinal and sensory, musculoskeletal and neuropsychiatric, cardiopulmonary, and fatigue-only.

Each cluster exhibited unique microbial associations, with the gastrointestinal and sensory clusters showing the most pronounced microbial alterations. Notably, taxa such as those from Lachnospiraceae and Erysipelotrichaceae families were significantly enriched in this cluster.

Conclusions To summarize, this study demonstrated that SARS-CoV-2-positive individuals who later developed LC exhibited distinct gut microbiome profiles during acute infection. While prior research has linked the gut microbiome to COVID-19 outcomes, few studies have explored its predictive potential for LC, particularly in outpatient cohorts.

Using machine learning models, including artificial neural networks and logistic regression, this study found that microbiome data alone predicted LC more accurately than clinical variables, such as disease severity, sex, and vaccination status.

Key microbial contributors included species from the Lachnospiraceae family, such as Eubacterium and Agathobacter, and Prevotella spp. These findings highlight the gut microbiome’s potential as a diagnostic tool for identifying LC risk, enabling personalized interventions.

*Important notice: bioRxiv publishes preliminary scientific reports that are not peer-reviewed and, therefore, should not be regarded as conclusive, guide clinical practice/health-related behavior, or treated as established information.

Journal reference: Preliminary scientific report. Isin Y. Comba, Ruben A. T. Mars, Lu Yang, et al. (2024) Gut Microbiome Signatures During Acute Infection Predict Long COVID, bioRxiv. doi:https://doi.org/10.1101/2024.12.10.626852. www.biorxiv.org/content/10.1101/2024.12.10.626852v1.full

[garmgeyr]

ENIGMATA: The Path of Storytellers, Skeptics, Poets, and Possibilities

(And Propagandists, but this meta looks at Enigmata through a more positive light)

Enigmata is - and will likely remain - a poorly understood path. Its philosophy, after all, defies the concept of “certainty” in favor of endless possibilities, so to understand it fully would be to eliminate Enigmata itself. So far the only factions we know of are the History Fictionologists, who embellish the past with fiction in order to inspire future possibilities, and the Riddlers, who use metaphors, riddles, and other circuitous language to forge multiple meanings in communication. This is not simply “the path of liars and misinformation,” as the fandom has taken to believing. That would be better fit for Elation. Enigmata is instead the path of “what if,” and sits in direct opposition to the cold, systematic omniscience of Erudition.

Defying Erudition does not mean that Enigmata necessarily aims to destroy knowledge or knowing. I would argue that “theory” is an acceptable concept within this philosophy because “theory” itself is innately uncertain. A theory is a theory because there exists the possibility for it to be proven wrong, given enough evidence, the right tools, and time. Instead, Enigmata reminds Erudition that nothing can ever truly be 100% known, and that science is filtered through biases, variables, imperfection, and misattribution. On top of that, reality is created on the individual level, and every single creature in this world experiences it differently. To the Enigmata pathstrider, it is in fact impossible to explain the world with generalizations.

Giving up certainty does not come at the expense of intellect, however. “To stop questioning is to ask pouring rain to relinquish its faith in the glittering stars” is the quote for Enigmata in the data bank, written by a poet who presumably follows the path. The quote itself obscures its meaning with metaphor and leaves its interpretation up to the reader, but also highlights the act of questioning, which by itself creates the unknown and opens the door to speculation. Enigmata is therefore the path of skeptics. Don’t take words at face value, it says. Even Gallagher, one of our only examples of an Enigmata pathstrider at the moment, is described at least once as being skeptical, and frequently warns the Trailblazer not to believe what they see. This is not the path of brainlessness, even if Mythus is represented as a jellyfish, but is ironically cerebral. If there is nothing left to question, doubt, or wonder about, then there is no Enigmata.

Like all the paths though, whether or not you find the followers of Enigmata “good” or “bad” is a matter of perspective. Altering historical records might be offensive to a Candelographo, while writing a story that embellishes the past would otherwise be seen as a work of art. As stated above, Enigmata is not merely a path of lies, insofar as fiction is not foremost labeled as a lie. This is, after all, a path of poets and storytellers, and most of us don’t throw away books because they veer from what we know of reality or truth. Historical fiction presents to us both fact and fiction simultaneously, and asks questions like “what if 17th century Europe had dragons?” Engaging with fantasy in this way allows us to indulge in a whole plethora of alternate worlds that are paradoxically real and fake.

For this reason, there is no better way to introduce Enigmata to us than with Penacony’s dreamscape, which represents dreams, imagination, and memory. All of these things leave real impacts on us, even if they don’t reside in the part of the world we call reality. While just about all of us would agree that dreams and imagination are inherently full of possibilities, what about memory? The path of Remembrance governs memory, and believes that it can be captured and preserved 1:1. Mythus was born from the aeon of Remembrance, however, and represents one of the ways in which memory fails: when we forget details, our brain naturally plugs holes up with fabrications. Enigmata’s corrosion (and it is indeed called such in game) is usually harmless to memory in small quantities, but larger holes lend themselves to more impactful fiction. There is a famous psychological study conducted by Loftus and Palmer in the 1970s that revealed how leading questions and false information can affect eyewitness accounts of car crashes. New information has the potential to overwrite memory - a green car suddenly becomes red in testimony - and Dr. Blues’ quest line illustrates this phenomenon: a person whose body has been “forgotten” by the dreamscape becomes an origami bird with Enigmata’s (Gallagher’s) help. Unlike its defiance of Erudition, Enigmata is a facet, rather than an enemy of Remembrance.

This whole post was actually inspired by the Otherworldly Delights readable, which I haven’t even touched on yet and probably won’t spend much time going over it anyway. This readable describes how one of the Luofu’s storytellers acquired a parrot from a mysterious fan, and how the parrot learned to recite and eventually create stories of its own. This parrot was Youci (the Pure Fiction bird), and while not outright stated to be related to Enigmata, its penchant for reinventing the past all but confirms it to be some sort of History Fictionologist, even though its owner doesn’t believe it has the capability of thought and imagination that humans possess. This story and the description on the Jade Feather (tl;dr : a Candelographo was discovered to have fabricated all of the history she’d recorded since creating a quill from the feathers of her dead parrot) have something notable in common beyond just the parrot: a writer or storyteller acquires some kind of muse that coincides with when they begin creating fiction, but the writer themselves is never attributed as a History Fictionologist.

Mikhail was a prolific storyteller and most of his work was based on his own history. Despite everything he created being clearly fiction, he’s never described as a History Fictionologist. Gallagher is though, and is frequently represented as the statue of a hound. Mikhail even calls him "[his] hound." So I had to wonder — might he have been Mikhail’s “parrot?” Gallagher's purpose would have been to reinvent Penacony’s history, and he does that twice that we know of (first in turning the planet into the “Planet of Festivities,” and second in freeing it from the Order). As we see in Otherworldly Delights, Youci becomes a storyteller itself by first mimicking its master, and then observing the world around it. This echoes Gallagher’s character stories, which shows through a series of notes how he’s created his persona by observing people in Penacony. If he’s not the History Fictionologist himself, then he was a gift from one to Mikhail during the War of Independence. Under this theory, Mikhail - and likely Micah - both knew what Gallagher was, and relied on him for the power his stories held within the dreamscape.

This has gone on too long now, and I still have other theories to write out at some point, but all this is to say that Gallagher continues to be a phenomenal representation of the path of Enigmata: who and what he is remains full of endless possibilities in the face of so much information.

[lanayrucodes]

Immortales: Skin Bundle ($20)

I've been wanting to branch out into a more minimalist style for a while, and found the opportunity to do so when I was struck by the coding bug over the weekend and began to experiment with a more semi-transparent style of index that eventually evolved into this. I tried to keep the skin as light as physically possible, with minimal Javascript or Jquery inclusions, and instead tried to optimize it to build off of HTML5 elements as best I could without needing to weigh it down with more external resources.

The Immortales skin is a dark themed, responsive skin for Jcink forums, and is optimized for Google Chrome. (Cross-tested in Opera GX and Mozilla Firefox.)

You can purchase the skin here: https://ko-fi[DOT]com/s/6f663cfe6e

Bundle Includes:

All custom HTML structures

a forum index a topic row for threads a post row with a sticky/hover mini profile a main profile custom board stats, with the five (5) recent topics appended a member list, sortable by filters

Full set of DOHTML templates

x1 general announcement/admin template x1 application template (tabbed, for threads) x4 thread templates x5 development templates x1 miscellaneous codes for TW/CW x1 tabbed webpage/guidebook

Custom Userlinks Menu

Easy to add/modify group variables for color coordination (five groups already included)

Responsive to smaller monitors

Upon purchase, buyers will receive an installation guide with editing and customization instructions, as well as any XML/HTML files.

Support & Refunds:

Refunds or returns are not offered on pre-made skins. Due to the nature of how they're distributed and the fact that they're digital files I cannot offer refunds for a purchase if you buy a skin from me.

If you encounter bugs or skin-breaking issues, please reach out to me and I will do my best to fix them and provide you with updated files.

I do not offer coding support beyond initial problems with my skins at install. (i.e. Finding a bug when you install a fresh copy of the skin onto your site, etc.) If the skin breaks during modifications you make on your own, I am willing to help restore the skin to it's original state. I do not provide support for third party coding that is not mine.

[republicsecurity]

Collar laws

"the collar turns an unpredictable subject into a data‑rich, safely restrained source of testimony—without the bruises, broken wrists, or civil‑rights challenges that handcuffs and arm‑bars invite. Use the tech; keep the process clean."

Why keep the collar on during interviews?

AV4I5: Three key advantages:

Silent‑Gate: Switch the collar to Blue‑Interview preset and the laryngeal filters drop ambient volume to 50 dB while allowing normal‑tone speech. You get a calm suspect who physically can’t ramp to shouting or spit abuse at you or the recorder.

Stress Telemetry: The Bio‑Vitals array overlays real‑time stress curves in your HUD. Micro‑tremor in the sternocleidomastoid, pulse variability—tells you when a question lands hot before you hear the lie.

Postural Guide: The collar’s micro‑servos nudge posture toward upright, open‑shoulder alignment; that keeps airways clear and prevents the classic “slouch and mumble” dodge. Interview audio stays clean for evidentiary playback.

SX12B: So it’s a built‑in polygraph and posture coach. Legal likes that?

AV4I5: Legal loves anything that shrinks “coercion” complaints. The collar maintains constant biometric logging—every muscle micro‑spasm time‑stamped. Defence counsel can request the packet; if we kept force at Compliance‑Safe, the data works in our favour.

ZQ77C: What’s the statutory backing? I mean—neck restraint in an interview room sounds headline‑ugly.

AV4I5: Two pillars:

Republic Security Act § 74‑J (“Non‑Lethal Custodial Aids”) grants Enforcer units the right to apply biometric control devices post‑arrest for “situational safety and evidentiary clarity.”

High Court ruling RSC v. Armitage, 08‑12‑18, which held that the collar is functionally analogous to handcuffs plus medical telemetry— therefore not a “novel search.”

Key clause: so long as the subject retains the ability to breathe, answer questions, and request counsel, the restraint is constitutional.

Internal policy OPS‑9.2 requires a Comms Recording Notification: you must state on tape, “Interview conducted under Compliance‑Safe collar control, serial X‑‑‑.” Once you say that, chain‑of‑custody is airtight.

Republic Security Code §31‑B & §31‑C (Custodial Technology)

31‑B, Sub‑para 4 authorises “adaptive restraint devices” for any detainee classified Risk Tier C or higher, provided the device logs biometric data and all activation events.

31‑C, Sub‑para 2 permits “real‑time physiological monitoring for the dual purpose of detainee safety and investigative integrity.”

Collar firmware is certified under Forensic Chain‑of‑Custody Standard FSC‑12: every mode change, impulse, or dampening adjustment is time‑stamped and cryptographically signed—admissible as evidence and immune to tamper challenges.

Judicial Precedent

State v. Marentis (RSC‑App. 608‑24) upheld collar‑logged stress spikes as corroborating evidence of conscious deception.

People v. Rhodan (608‑67) ruled that a brief bio‑vitals clamp to prevent self‑harm during interrogation was “medically prudent and constitutionally proportional.”

UK90F: Any interview‑only tricks we should know?

AV4I5:

Pulse Settle: Tap Vitals → CalmBurst. Collar emits a 400 Hz vibro‑pulse at C‑2 vertebra; average BPM drops ~12 in ten seconds. Handy before the “tell‑me‑again” loop.

Cheat Lock: If subject tries a table flip, accelerate to Red‑Stun‑Hold—800 ms, enough to freeze them mid‑lunge without cracking skulls. De‑escalate back to Blue once they’re seated. The log shows a justified spike, court nods.

Whisper Gate: Drop the voice gate to 25 dB; suspect can barely whisper, recorder still hears everything via collar mic. Keeps adjoining rooms blissfully ignorant.

SX12B: What about overreach? Any hard “don’ts”?

AV4I5: Absolutely. Policy flags:

No Respiratory Clamp longer than 2 s in interview setting.

No Neuromotor Inversion—that technique’s still restricted to Crowd‑Control Cert.

Remove or power‑down the unit immediately if counsel requests a private consultation; attorney‑client privilege overrides telemetry.

"Break those and OPS‑Internal Affairs will fry your career medium‑rare."

[shewasverynice]

Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen 

⚠️ SPOILER HEAVY ⚠️

Major Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death 

Full tags/warnings on Chapter links post

Major Characters: Original Character, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Ieiri Shoko, Yaga Masamichi, Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Tsukumo Yuki, Choso

‎‧₊˚✧ Chapter 63 ✧˚₊‧

Nanami and Rin stood in the dimly lit storage room, the only light filtering in from a small, grimy window near the ceiling. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of old wood, making the space feel even more claustrophobic. Rin leaned against a stack of crates, arms crossed with Nanami across from her in a similar position near the wall.

"So, you know the way out of the main area," she murmured, "but not past the outer perimeter?"

Nanami nodded. "Suguru’s defenses are layered. Even if we slip past the sorcerers, his curses patrol the woods beyond. We’d be walking blind."

Rin exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "Damn it. I’ve been scouting for weeks, and every exit is either guarded or monitored. Even the supply runs are tightly controlled now."

Nanami adjusted his glasses, the faint gleam of light reflecting off the lenses. "A distraction, then. Something big enough to pull attention away from the perimeter."

Rin’s eyes flicked up to his. "That’s our only shot. But it’d have to be massive—something that forces them to scramble." A pause. Then, hesitantly, she added, "...What about Haibara?"

Nanami stiffened. "Why him?"

"His technique," Rin said. "If we need chaos, a song could cause a hell of a ruckus." She frowned when Nanami didn’t respond immediately. "Wait… is something wrong with him? He seems fine when I visit him."

Nanami’s jaw tightened. "He’s not fine."

Rin’s hands wound together. "What do you mean?"

"He wants to kill Gojo."

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes widening in shock. "What? No—Haibara wouldn’t—"

"He would," Nanami cut in, voice low and grim. "Geto and his shape shifter have been manipulating him. Feeding him lies, twisting his jealousy. He’s convinced himself it’s the only way to end this."

Rin’s fingers curled into fists. "That’s… that’s insane. Haibara wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone—" She cut herself off, shaking her head. "God, what did they do to him?"

Nanami didn’t answer. The silence between them was heavy, suffocating.

Finally, Rin straightened, her expression hardening. "Then we get him out too. Whatever it takes."

Nanami nodded. "Agreed. But we need a plan—one that accounts for all the variables. Including Haibara’s state of mind."

Rin chewed her lip, thinking. Then, slowly, a dangerous glint entered her eyes. "What if we use Suguru’s own game against him?"

Nanami raised a brow. "Meaning?"

"If Haibara’s supposed to be their weapon against Gojo… then maybe we make Haibara think that’s exactly what we want too." She smiled, although he could see her disdain at the idea of manipulating her friend. "We can leave with him and then maybe knock him out or something and get him some help before he does something he regrets."

Nanami considered it. It was risky. But then again, so was staying.

"Fine," he said. "But we move fast. And we don’t give Haibara a choice."

Rin nodded. "We get him to safety but don't take him anywhere near Gojo until he's stable."

The storage room door suddenly burst open, making Rin yelp and nearly knock over a stack of crates. Nanami barely flinched, but his hand twitched toward his weapon—only to relax slightly when he saw it was Boe.

She stood in the doorway, one hand on her hip with a smirk on her face. "Your plan won’t work," she said bluntly.

Nanami narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

Boe stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind her. "Haibara’s not stable enough to be part of any kind of escape plan. If you try to use him, you’ll just get dragged down with him."

Rin frowned. "What do you mean? He’s been acting weird, but—"

"Suzu’s been in his ear," Boe interrupted. "And they aren’t letting him leave without getting something out of it."

Nanami’s expression darkened. "Suzu."

Rin’s nose wrinkled in confusion. "What’s their angle anyway? Why mess with Haibara?"

Boe shrugged. "No clue. But whatever it is, it’s bad news. Suzu doesn’t do anything without a reason, and they don’t care who gets hurt in the process."

Nanami exhaled sharply. "They’re a problem. So is Lily."

Rin groaned. "At least we know Lily’s a traitor. Suzu’s just… unpredictable."

Boe nodded. "Exactly. And Suguru only keeps Suzu around because he thinks he can control them." She rolled her eyes. "Spoiler: he can’t."

Nanami rubbed his temple. "Then we cut Suzu out of the equation. If we can’t rely on Haibara, we need another way."

Rin bit her lip. "What if we talk to Suzu? Maybe we can—"

"No," Boe cut in sharply. "Don’t. They’re dangerous. The only reason they’re even here is because Suguru strong-armed them into it. You start poking around in their business, and you will regret it."

A tense silence fell over the room. Then Rin sighed, rubbing her face.

Nanami adjusted his glasses, his voice low. "Then we find another distraction."

Boe leaned back against the crates, arms crossed, her expression unreadable. "The real solution is simple," she said. "Get Gojo and Suguru in a room together. Make them talk."

Rin let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh. "Fat chance. Those two would rather level a city than have a civil conversation."

"Obviously," Boe said, rolling her eyes. "But the root of all this? It’s them. Their ideals, their egos, their refusal to bend. Everything else—the curses, the rebellion, even Haibara’s breakdown—it’s all just collateral damage."

Nanami was silent for a moment, considering. Then, slowly, he said, "What if we brought Yaga here instead?"

Boe blinked. "Yaga?"

"He was a mentor to both of them," Nanami reasoned. "Practically a father figure. If anyone could force them to listen, it’s him."

Boe scoffed. "Sure, if Suguru would ever agree to that. But he won’t. He’s terrified of facing Yaga. He’d burn the world down than admit he failed him."

Rin sighed, rubbing her temples again. "So it has to be Gojo, then."

Nanami’s jaw tightened. "There are two problems with that. First, convincing Gojo to come here willingly. He’s just as stubborn as Geto—maybe worse. And second..." He hesitated. "If Gojo steps foot in this compound, Haibara will get involved. And in his current state, that could destroy him."

The weight of his words settled over the room.

Boe exhaled sharply, pushing off the crates. "Then we don’t give Haibara a choice. We contain him before Gojo arrives."

Rin raised a brow. "How? He’s not exactly in a cooperative mood."

A slow, calculating smirk spread across Boe’s face. "We use Suzu."

Nanami stiffened. "You just said not to mess with them."

"I said we shouldn’t. But if I do?" She shrugged. "Suzu’s been whispering in his ear for weeks. So I'll let them keep whispering—just long enough to steer him where we need him to. When the time is right, I'll get you two out and you'll go bring Gojo here."

Rin’s eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting you're going to put yourself in danger for us to leave but not you?

"Yeah, well, I have some things I need to take care of," Boe shot back.

"How are we going to get Gojo here, anyway?" Rin asked, but then she sighed and said, "We'll have to bring Sarah back here."

"Yep," Boe said, popping the "p" on the end with heavy emphasis.

Nanami was silent for a long moment. Then, finally, he gave a single, reluctant nod. "Fine. I don't like putting her in danger either, but if this goes wrong—"

"It won’t," Boe interrupted, though her confidence sounded more like a gamble than a guarantee. "Trust me."

"What do you plan to do?" Rin asked, stepping forward and gently holding Boe's hand. Her brows furrowed and her eyes held on hers begging for her not to say something foolish.

Boe gave them both a lazy salute, pulling her hand from Rin's as she turned to leave. "Don’t worry, you can count on me. Just be ready for anything," she said, her tone light but her eyes unreadable. Then she slipped out of the closet, the door clicking shut behind her.

Rin stared after her for a long moment before turning to Nanami, her brow furrowed. "I’m worried about her," she admitted quietly. "She’s acting… strange."

Nanami adjusted his glasses, unfazed. "How can you tell?"

Rin huffed, crossing her arms. "Because I know her. You wouldn’t get it."

A faint, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corner of Nanami’s mouth. "No, I suppose I wouldn’t."

Rin’s cheeks flushed pink, and she swatted his arm. "That’s not fair," she muttered, looking away.

Nanami didn’t respond, but the slight amusement in his expression lingered. After a beat, Rin sighed, shaking her head.

"We should get moving," she said, her voice firmer now. "If Boe’s really going to try and pull this off, we need to be ready. We might not know when the time comes."

Nanami nodded. "Agreed."

But as they stepped out of the closet, Rin couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. Boe was hiding something, and whatever it was, she wanted to find out.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The lights were dim across the war room as Suguru and Tsukumo hunched over a map spread across the table. The layout depicted a sprawling estate—one belonging to a powerful family deeply entrenched with the jujutsu higher-ups.

"You’re sure the ashes are still there?" Tsukumo asked, her fingers tracing the perimeter of the property. "And they haven’t made a deal with Yaga?"

Suguru smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Positive. The old man is too proud to grovel to Yaga. And after what we did to his daughter, he’d rather die than hand them over willingly."

Tsukumo’s eyes flicked up, sharp. "What about Sarah? If we hit this estate, we could get her back at the same time when Gojo comes to—"

Suguru waved a dismissive hand. "She’s not important right now."

"The hell she isn’t!" Tsukumo slammed her palms on the table, making the map shudder. "If she’s still making ashes for Gojo, she’s handing him the win on a silver platter!"

Suguru’s expression darkened, but his voice remained eerily calm. "Satoru would never ask her to use her technique. He cares about her." He scoffed. "Sentimental weakness."

"And what if you’re wrong?" Tsukumo pressed. "What if he’s already using her? We have no idea what’s happening over there!"

Suguru exhaled through his nose, irritated. "We already have ashes from the night they left. If we need more, we’ll take them. But until then, there’s no point inviting Satoru’s wrath prematurely."

Tsukumo scowled. "You’re being reckless. If this backfires, you won’t get a second chance."

Suguru’s lips curled into a cold, knowing smile. "If I have to start over, I will. And it’ll be easy this time." He tapped his temple. "I already know how it all plays out."

Tsukumo scoffed, then leaned forward with a sharp grin.

"Alright, Mr. Know-It-All—did you even consider that maybe she’d make the ashes for Gojo willingly? Because, oh, I don’t know… she loves him?"

Suguru shook his head, smirking. He crossed his arms and said, "She doesn’t even know she can do that right now. She’s floating around in dreamland, probably living it up with Satoru without a single care in the world."

Tsukumo’s smirk widened. She pointed at him, letting out a single impressed huff of laughter. "Ohhh, I thought I smelled a Binding Vow on this whole mess. What’re the terms?"

Suguru’s expression darkened with satisfaction. "In exchange for her forgetting she can make the ashes, she gets to stay in a permanent state of bliss. No pain, no guilt—just happy ignorance." He tilted his head as he explained. "I got her to take the vow herself a few nights after we left. She was drunk, high, sobbing—begging to go back to Yaga and Satoru. So I… convinced her to take it."

Tsukumo arched a brow and tilted her head back. "Let me guess—you got her all wound up first?" she asked, tapping the table with her knuckle.

"Had to be done," Suguru said with a careless shrug, spoken as if it was as easy as taking out the trash.

"Damn," Tsukumo chuckled darkly, "That’s pretty cruel."

"She won’t remember it anyway," Suguru said with the wave of his hand, "We can fix her later with another vow if we need to."

Before Tsukumo could reply, the door creaked open. Suzu slinked in, their movements loose and uncoordinated.

"Wassup?" they slurred, blinking lazily at the two of them.

Suguru rolled his eyes. "So good of you to finally join us. We're planning the next move."

Suzu groaned, stumbling toward the table before collapsing dramatically into a chair. "Ugh. Do you need me for this one… or can I, like… chill?" they huffed, flailing a hand aimlessly in the air.

Suguru’s smile was thin as he answered, "You may be needed.

"Fiiiiine," Suzu whined, let their head thunk onto the table.

Tsukumo tapped the edge of the map with a sharp nail, eyeing Suguru. "Alright, who exactly are we needing for this?"

Suguru leaned back, fingers steepled. He considered things for a moment before he said, "Let’s keep it simple. Suzu slips in after taking the form of the first guard we kill, while the rest of us cause chaos outside."

"And who’s on distraction duty this time?" Tsukumo asked, arching a brow.

Suguru shrugged and answered, "Doesn’t matter. Whoever’s feeling pent-up. Just let them go wild—Suzu works fast."

Suzu, still slumped over the table, lifted an imaginary wine glass in a lazy toast, grinning, but Tsukumo’s frown deepened. "Should they even be unsupervised?" she asked carefully, "Some of these people we've picked up have real beef with the higher-ups. What if they go too far?"

Suguru smirked.

"Send Lily with them."

"Oh, come on,"Tsukumo groaned, throwing her hands up. "We know she’s playing both sides. What’s the point?"

Suguru’s grin turned wicked and he said, "It’s funny watching her scramble to stay ‘neutral.’"

Tsukumo rolled her eyes. "Fine. When’s this going down?"

"One week," Suguru said smoothly. "Spread the word for me, would you?"

Tsukumo exhaled through her nose, already dreading the logistics. "I’ll do it. But you better be ready to step in when this inevitably blows up in our faces."

Suguru just chuckled, turning back to the map as Suzu let out a drunken giggle, their head lolling against the table.

Not long after, Suguru strode down the dimly lit corridor of the compound, his sandals whispering against the wooden floors. His chin was lifted, his posture regal—just enough to remind every sorcerer he passed of their place beneath him. Their bows were swift, their murmurs of "Geto-sama" hushed and reverent. He granted them nothing more than a slight nod, the barest acknowledgment, before moving on.

The moment they were out of sight, his lips curled into a cold smirk.

This was how it should be.

If not for Satoru—always Satoru—he would be the undisputed strongest. No debates, no challengers. Just power, absolute and unchallenged. The thought sent a familiar thrill through him, sharp and intoxicating.

He reached his chambers and pushed the door open, expecting silence, solitude—only to freeze when he sensed another presence.

A figure stepped from the shadows, the soft rustle of silk betraying her before the dim light caught her form.

She was exquisite—a vision of traditional Japanese beauty, draped in a deep crimson kimono that slipped precariously off one porcelain shoulder. Her raven hair, half-unraveled from its pins, cascaded in dark waves, framing a face like carved alabaster. Red lips, petal-soft, parted in feigned surprise as dark eyes fluttered up at him, demure yet dripping with invitation.

Suguru didn’t react.

"No," he said flatly. "Not her tonight, Suzu."

The illusion shattered. The woman’s form rippled like disturbed water before melting away, revealing Suzu lounging against his bed instead, their usual lazy grin revealing their slightly sharpened teeth.

"Tch. You’re no fun," they sighed, stretching like a cat. "What would you prefer, then? A different face? A different body?" Suzu’s form rippled once again, the air around them bending like heat off pavement. Their figure shrank slightly, curves softening, limbs tapering into grace. Long, dark brown hair spilled down their back like ink over silk, and wide caramel eyes blinked through fresh tears.

They sniffled once, delicately, and then—Rin’s voice: soft, warm, wounded.

“How about this one?” she asked, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hand. “You do enjoy making her cry from time to time, don’t you? Is that Geto-sama's mood today?”

Suguru stood across the room, removing his outer robe with a sigh. He folded it neatly, hanging it on the wooden frame with practiced ease. His eyes didn’t lift until she spoke, and when they did, they were flat.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not her either.”

There was no cruelty in it. Just weariness. The same disinterest he’d been dragging through every encounter lately like a broken limb. Rin—Suzu—deflated.

“If I’m being honest,” Suguru continued, settling himself on the bed with a slow, sprawling sigh, “Rin’s been boring me too. Just like the others. And besides—” he paused, gaze flicking to her. “She’s with Nanami. I shouldn't cross that line with a friend any more.”

The shape shuddered. Suzu returned, features neutral, eyes unreadable. They sat at the edge of the bed, watching him, unmoving.

Suguru smiled now, content, his arms folded behind his head as he looked to them expectantly.

Suzu tilted their head. The corner of their mouth curled. Dangerously.

Their form shimmered again as they crawled onto the bed. This time, their figure became Sarah—playful, pretty Sarah. Green eyes gleaming, shoulder-length brown hair bouncing with every shift of her weight. She was soft in all the right ways, familiar and inviting. She giggled.

“How about something new?” she purred, crawling over him. “Something… forbidden?”

Suguru’s hand rose, brushing her hair behind her ear with almost unconscious gentleness. His face didn’t shift much.

“No,” he said again. “That wouldn’t feel right.”

Sarah pouted, but smiled anyway. She leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose like a challenge.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want to.”

He smirked. “I do. Just… not this time. Another, please.”

Suzu huffed as their form dissolved again. They sat upright, visibly frustrated. Their hair began to shift again, brown giving way to stark white.

Suguru’s expression snapped to steel before the change had finished.

“No.”

The face was nearly done forming. Blue eyes emerging behind white lashes. That damned, familiar smirk.

“What about this?” Satoru’s voice was low, dangerous, intimate. “You never did get to—”

“Get off me!” Suguru snarled, shoving the form away with enough force to rattle the bed frame.

Suzu hit the floor, halfway between Satoru and themselves, gasping. Their body crackled as it returned to normal, trembling.

“What the hell?!” they spat, rising to their knees. “What’s wrong with you?!”

“Get out,” Suguru said coldly, standing now, jaw tight.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Suzu hissed. “I’m not enough for you, is that it?”

Their laugh was bitter as lightning. Their form began to shift again, slowly this time, their tone laced with venom. Hair crept longer, past their shoulders. Darkened. The air dropped ten degrees.

Suguru’s eyes widened. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Suzu just grinned.

Their hair shimmered into deep, unmistakable purple.

“I said,” Suguru growled, “DON'T YOU EVER BECOME HER!”

Suguru's command cracked through the room like a whip, raw and jagged with something far beyond irritation—something that made the air itself feel charged.

Suzu froze mid-shift, their form flickering between Boe’s sharp features and their own, their grin turning razor-edged. "Ohhh?" they purred, tilting their head. "Now that’s interesting."

Suguru’s jaw clenched. He hadn’t moved from the bed, but his fingers had dug into the sheets, knuckles white.

"Get. Out."

Suzu’s laughter was low, taunting. "Make me."

For a heartbeat, the room felt like it was holding its breath. Then—Suguru moved.

One moment he was sprawled on the bed; the next, his hand was around Suzu’s throat, slamming them against the wall. The impact rattled the shelves, sending a vase crashing to the floor.

Suzu gasped, but their grin never faltered. "Wow," they choked out, "someone’s touchy—"

"Enough," Suguru hissed. His grip tightened, not enough to truly hurt, but enough to make the threat crystal clear. "You do not push this."

Suzu’s eyes gleamed, unfazed. "Why? Because it bothers you?"they wheezed. "Or because you’re scared of what you’ll do if I—"

Suguru’s other hand came up, fingers twisting into the fabric of Suzu’s shirt. "Try it," he whispered, voice venomous. "And I’ll remind you exactly why no one else in this compound dares to fuck with me."

A beat.

Then Suzu’s form melted—not into Boe, not into anyone, but back into their own lanky, androgynous shape. They raised their hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Fine, fine. Damn. You’re no fun tonight."

Suguru released them with a shove. "Out."

Suzu rubbed their throat, chuckling as they sauntered toward the door. But they paused at the threshold, glancing back. "You know," they mused, "for someone who’s so in control… you sure lose it fast when she’s involved."

Suguru’s glare could have flayed skin.

Suzu winked. "Just saying~!"

The door slid shut behind them.

Silence.

Suguru exhaled, running a hand through his hair. His pulse was still too loud in his ears.He turned toward the window, where the moon hung heavy and cold. He whipped around towards the door, leaving his outer robe behind.

His footsteps thundered down the long wooden hallway, echoing against the paper walls and polished floors like a warning. His robe flared behind him, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ached. The pulse in his neck was pounding, hot and erratic. Something had broken — snapped — inside him the moment Suzu's hair had shimmered purple.

He reached Boe’s door and didn’t hesitate.

SLAM.

The sliding panel door nearly cracked in its track as he burst inside.

Boe jerked upright from her chair by the window, the gentle evening light painting her lavender hair gold at the edges. She was still holding her phone, mid-text, when it slipped from her fingers and clattered to the tatami floor.

“Suguru?” she said, startled. “What the—”

He didn’t answer.

He lunged.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her hard against him, and his mouth crashed into hers like a storm breaking against the shore.

Her hands pressed against his chest instinctively, patting, pushing—she gasped against his mouth, struggling for breath—but he didn’t let up. Not yet. His grip was desperate, almost fevered. Her lips parted under his, breath catching, and for a flickering second, her eyes fluttered closed.

Her hands curled into his white under robes.

He lifted her easily, carrying her as if weightless, and sat down heavily in the chair she’d just occupied, settling her on his lap. His mouth never left hers. There was a low, hoarse sound in his throat — not quite a groan, not quite a sob — and he clutched her tighter, like she might vanish if he let go.

“Suguru—wait—stop—” Boe gasped, trying to pull back.

Her voice trembled, betraying her. Please, don't stop.

His hands curled at her waist.

Her fingers threaded through his robes, brushing against his bare skin.

“Get—off—me—” she hissed—but her legs tightened slightly around him.

He kissed her again, hard.

Then—CRACK.

Her hand whipped across his face with a sharp, echoing slap that snapped his head to the side. He barely had time to react before her knee came up and slammed into his chest, sending him stumbling back out of the chair.

He hit the floor with a grunt, winded.

Boe stood over him, chest heaving, hair wild, mouth red from the kiss. Her eyes burned.

“What the fuck,” she snarled, voice shaking with fury, “do you think you’re doing?!”

Suguru sat up slowly, one hand pressed to his chest. The other lifted to his lip, where blood now welled. He wiped it off with his thumb, staring up at her with glassy, ragged breath.

“I need you,” he said simply, his voice hoarse and cracked.

Boe’s face twisted. “Fat chance,” she spat.

Then she kicked him hard in the chest again—not enough to break anything, but enough to knock the wind out of him a second time—and stormed past him, stepping over the wreckage of her fallen phone and splintered dignity as she threw the door open and disappeared into the hall.

Suguru remained on the floor, dazed, and alone again.

And still not enough.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The morning sun filtered through the curtains in narrow beams, catching dust in the air like snow that hadn’t landed yet. Sarah didn’t look at him as she folded her sweatshirt and tucked it carefully into her bag. She moved with an efficiency that could’ve passed for calm—if not for the way her fingers trembled every time they touched something of hers. Her phone charger. The metal water bottle he'd given her to remember to take care of herself. The worn hoodie he used to wear that she’d stolen one night, laughing, saying she liked it better over-sized.

Satoru stood across the room. Silent. Still.

Not because he didn’t trust her—never that. He was watching her because some part of him, some stubborn, aching piece, was praying she’d change her mind.

But she didn’t.

Sarah kept packing. Quietly. Neatly. Like every breath hurt and she was trying not to let it show. But he could hear it. The soft hitches. The way she kept blinking too often. She hadn’t cried yet this morning—but the tears were there, waiting. She was just trying to spare his feelings. Letting herself suffer for him just as she always did.

He didn’t move toward her. He didn’t speak.

Because she had asked for space. Because she’d said it was over. Because this—this—was what was right. This was how it had to be. This was the way it would always be.

Satoru bit down on the inside of his cheek, hard, and reminded himself that he was the one who broke her heart first. He was the first one to make her cry.

He deserved this.

Every second of it.

This quiet unraveling was his punishment—for taking her in when she was lost, for letting her stay, for letting her laugh and take up space and fill every hollow corner of his empty heart until it hurt not to look at her. And for pushing her away. For not being brave enough to admit what he’d already known.

He loved her.

It hit him again like a falling star—bright, sharp, burning its way through his chest.

He loved her.

He had loved her all along and everyone had been right. The only one who hadn’t seen it was him—until it was too late.

She was at the door now, bag on her shoulder. Her shoes sat neatly at the entryway, just as she always left them. He watched as she stepped into them slowly, methodically. She still hadn’t looked at him. Not once.

He could see her pause. She hadn’t moved.

He held his breath.

She was thinking about turning around. He knew she was. He could feel it, like a shift in gravity. His hands twitched at his sides. He shouldn't say it. He knew he shouldn’t say it.

But his lips moved anyway.

“Don’t go.”

It was quiet. A whisper. Barely louder than a breath. But it carried. It cut.

Her shoulders dropped, arms falling uselessly to her sides. Her head tipped back—not looking at him, just back, as if she could force the tears not to fall by sheer willpower.

Please, he wanted to say again. Please don’t go.

But he didn’t.

Because she didn’t say anything.

She didn’t move.

And then—she finally did.

She stepped forward into the morning sun. And the door closed behind her with a soft, final click.

Satoru stood alone, arm still raised halfway as if reaching for her, though she was already gone.

He let it fall.

The room was too quiet. The kind of quiet that rang in your ears. He didn’t cry—he couldn’t. His eyes were already dry. His heart felt like it had been wrung out and left on the floor. He turned, slowly. It felt colder again, like it always had. The familiar feeling of being alone, just like he always had been. Just like the world wanted him to be.

He stared at the floor.

He’d loved her and he’d let her go for a chance at the ghost he'd chased for so long.

For a moment, Satoru didn’t move, and then something inside him finally snapped.

The lamp on the end table was the first to go. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. His hand shot out and smashed it to the floor, the shattering glass shrieking against the silence like a howl.

The pieces scattered across the wooden floor like constellations, but he didn’t stop to look.

He spun around and kicked the chair by the wall so hard it splintered. The wood cracked and tipped, legs twisting, laundry spilling out in a heap — one of her forgotten shirts landing across the floor.

He stormed down the hallway, chest heaving. The string lights she’d hung there—delicate little bulbs she said made the place “feel less sad”—twinkled like they didn’t know better. He grabbed a handful and ripped them down, the wire snapping, bulbs bursting like tiny fireworks as they hit the floor.

He kept going.

Through the house like a hurricane, a force of ache and anger and regret all rolled into one.

He slammed back into his bedroom, standing before the bed like it had personally betrayed him. It was still unmade. The sheets tangled, the blanket half on the floor. Where she had laughed. Where she had cried. Where she had whispered I’m scared into his chest and he had pretended not to be.

Where she’d slept her last night in his arms.

Satoru’s breath came hard and fast and then he grabbed the edge of the mattress and heaved it up with a roar, tossing it off the frame and into the wall with a thud that shook the floor. It bounced once and slid down awkwardly, baring the wooden slats beneath like a rib cage.

His fists clenched at his sides, shaking.

He stood there in the wreckage of the life they’d almost had—his chest heaving, his throat raw.

And finally—He sobbed.

A guttural, unfiltered sound that tore from deep inside him like something ancient and broken. His legs buckled and he sank to the floor, hands burying into his hair, body folding in on itself. The walls blurred around him as hot tears poured freely now, no longer held back by pride or pretense.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out to the empty room. “I’m so sorry.”

But she couldn’t hear him. Not anymore.

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[luckytohavebucky]

Why the Wakandans (Unfortunately) Failed Bucky

Like, Bucky, I adore Wakanda for its people, what they've done for Bucky (particularly specific individuals), the great ways vibranium and technology in general have been utilised to create a veritable playground for nerds, and its breathtaking natural beauty, but as amazing as Wakanda is and how much I can never properly express my gratitude to its citizens who have in fact greatly helped Bucky, they also didn't exactly do enough for Bucky, and here are the reasons...

Point 1: Bucky's arm was not accounted for how it should've been.

What I mean by that is when Bucky's Wakandan arm was ready for Bucky to wear, ensure a proper fit, such, clearly Bucky must've requested that they keep it until there was an inevitable battle to be fought because Bucky was particularly sensitive about his left arm range then, and that evidently lead to the Wakandans assuming Bucky's arm is a "weapon", which certainly just like Bucky's right arm (albeit rather stronger as everybody knows but is still saying a lot) it can be utilised for fighting, however, the idea that it ever should've been treated as though that's the main thing it's good for is just plain wrong (yes, even on Bucky's part), so the Wakandans had an opportunity to help Bucky with his insecurity concerning his left arm, maybe even offer counseling, but instead they encouraged Bucky's misconception with their own, unfair thinking of whom/"what" Bucky is, and as a result, Bucky continues to struggle with how he interprets just what that arm means to him.

Point 2: Shuri should've told Bucky about the fail-safe in his arm or at least informed others to be respectful to Bucky/not to use it without due cause.

I have a bit of theory like 1st off because Shuri has stated in so many words that removing the Winter Soldier programming from Bucky is probably the most challenging thing she's ever worked on, and that leads me to believe part of the reason she put the fail-safe in (not that that it's specifically stated Shuri designed Bucky's arm, but... yeah...) to begin with was she wasn't entirely certain she'd completely eliminated all traces of suscebtibility, and 'though considering Shuri, obviously I've no doubt in her abilities, at the same time she likes to make sure things are as perfected as they can be and to make sure all variables are covered under such circumstances which of course that's understandable, (also could be why Bucky seemed to have limited contact with T'challa, as he was the person to have Bucky's "trigger words" at the time filtered through while, for that part anyway, Bucky was unconscious, to make them benign to Bucky, 'cause supposedly if Bucky knew about or considered that process directly it could lead to so-called relapse of sorts, making it easier for someone to try and manipulate Bucky again, yet like I said, that's highly unlikely), but she still maybe could've figured a way to let Bucky know she took precautions with his arm that would not have made it so Bucky could be vulnerable, again if that even would've happened, and if she didn't feel secure enough for that she could've at least made sure nobody used the knowledge of said precaution in a petty manner, which leads me to...

Point 3: Ayo should not have used the fail-safe to spite Bucky.

Instead of considering that Bucky only broke Zemo out of jail to figure out how to stop people from getting hurt and that Bucky would devise a plan to turn him over to Wakanda (which, by the way, Ayo never even thanked Bucky for, but whatever), in other words, instead of trusting Bucky, she just got pissed at him so when Bucky was merely trying to defuse things, she turned around and removed his arm, then just for "good measure" she not only directly insulted Bucky but called him by the 1st name on his birth certificate, which of course that's not something Bucky likes, but like I said, Ayo (and anybody else who may have had contact with Bucky and was informed about the fail-safe) should've been trained in sensitivity or at least told that utilising such knowledge unduly against Bucky was forbidden because it was extremely messed up for her to do that to Bucky and in no way proportionate (even though while I could feel how clearly she thought it was, obviously that is not the point).

Point 4: I got really uncomfortable with how Ayo like handled Bucky being stressed about what would happen if the programming hadn't been confirmed to be removed.

This actuamlly has nothing to do with Bucky's arm, but concerns when Bucky is about to learn that he's free and says "You sure about this?", then Ayo answers "I won't let you hurt anyone," just... I mean... I feel like she should've said for Bucky not to worry or that he was in good hands, so to say, and even if Ayo didn't fully get Bucky's circumstances or how when Hydra's Winter Soldier took over that was never Bucky (although what with so-called overseeing the non technological aspects of freeing Bucky, it should've been the case that she understood the fact, even if Bucky never did), she had to at least be somewhat aware of how hard that was for Bucky and how much all of that affected him, I just... It wasn't the proper thing to say is all.

Conclusion:

I 1st gotta say I know I was rather hard on Ayo with this, and I know she just got caught up and is how she is, but ultimately she did good overall for Bucky even if not so much as T'challa and Shuri, but still, I'm definitely grateful for her help too.

I also think this could be considered a follow up of sorts to my criticism of The Falcon and the Winter Soldier because like in that case the main takeaway is while it's upsetting Bucky's part wasn't accounted for as well as it should've been there are actually so many good things, like I said, the Wakandans gave me back My Bucky, just like Steve, just like Bruce; they saved Bucky and I'll never be able to come close to expressing how much that means to me, however, it also felt necessary to address the problems and get them out of the way, like, so that's all there is to it.

[bestworstcase]

…so THAT's why there was so much lingering whale left after the magenuke. Grimmcromancy. Though if Monstra was that hefty (and toothy) before Salem started renovating, I figure those kaiju grimm often wind up on the food chain's other end. And no goddamn wonder the kingdoms stick with airfleets.

i am a normal fan with normal headcanons come closer

aside from the relative lack of biomechanical constraints on body mass underwater compared to terrestrial organisms one of variables correlated with massive size in marine animals is temperature, suggesting that there may be thermoregulatory advantages to getting REALLY LARGE in the ocean or else (with filter-feeding cetaceans specifically) it may be that colder oceans yield indirect benefits e.g. a greater abundance of plankton. with TOOTHED WHALES like our dear friend the cachalot the hard upper limit on size is a function of availability of food; deep-diving whales like the cachalot must exist in a sweet spot between “huge enough to efficiently dive down to where the squid are” and “small enough to not starve to death.” your average adult cachalot needs to eat about 1.3 tons every day. for example.

FUN FACT #1: vale has snowy winters. vale sits ever so slightly north of the equator. it SNOWS in the TROPICS–

FUN FACT #2: argus—the northern province of mistral whose cold climate stymied the empire’s advance into the region until mantle extended a helping hand—is, eyeballing it, somewhere in the neighborhood of 35-40N. cold san francisco. (literally. sanfran is 37N.)

bangs gavel. the first rule of headcanon is no doylist answers to watsonian questions! how come people living in the city-state north of the polar circle dress like this:

not huntsmen/huntresses whose auras protect them from the cold, but ordinary people. no aura training. no hat no gloves that reporter is wearing a PEA COAT.

remnant is cold! a lot colder than our own world. i imagine dust deposits interact with local climates in myriad ways that are well out of scope for This Post Which Is About Monster Whales but on average global temperatures on remnant are Cold. and people run around the polar north with their Bare Hands out because if you plonked them down in a balmy mediterranean summer they would overheat and die

(i am heroically restraining myself here but if you want the really HINGES OFF climate headcanon ask me about tdt!remnant <3) 

anyway whales.

abyssal gigantism—invertebrate organisms such as crustaceans and cephalopods that live in very deep water tending to be VERY LARGE in comparison to shallower-water relatives—is thought to be influenced by a combination of factors of which the one that interests us for the purpose of MONSTER WHALES is, of course, colder temperature. remnant is very cold—much colder than earth—and while this would have only a small impact in the very deepest parts of the ocean (the abyssal zone is 2-3 °C), the upper layers will be significantly colder. so we can imagine that marine lifeforms in the bathyal and middle pelagic zones in remnant’s oceans are subject to much harsher conditions than their equivalents in the real world, and extrapolate from this a phenomenon of pelagic gigantism.

with that in mind. the average adult male cachalot is about 16 meters long. they are known to eat colossal squid, which are estimated to grow between 10-14 meters in length, but the bulk of their diet is squid of more reasonable size, such as the clubhook squid (2m). and while this has never been observed, cachalots often have extensive scarring on their heads thought to be inflicted by colossal squids fighting to not be eaten.

consider a very cold ocean with a fairly low vertical temperature gradient—thus weak thermohaline circulation—and thus nutrient-poor and deoxygenated waters in the middle and upper layers—and thus marine lifeforms are sparser than in our world but tend to be VERY LARGE. in such an ocean, we can imagine that the colossal squid would not be an elusive deep-sea giant but rather a squid of normal size; the evolutionary pressures that exist in our abyssal zone to produce gigantism in this ocean extend into the pelagic zone.

in the real world, the colossal squid is difficult prey: living in deep waters, nearly as long as its hunter, armed with hooks all over its arms and tentacles. its great size makes it an important pillar of the cachalot’s diet, but data suggest these whales prefer to gorge themselves on much smaller animals. 

what does a cachalot look like in a world without an abundance of 1-2 meter long squid to feast on? plausibly… bigger. a lot bigger

perhaps even SO BIG that the colossal squid is as defenseless against the whale as the clubhook squid is to the cachalot. in fact for the sake of simplicity let’s say there’s a linear relationship between the size of the whale and the size of the squid such that the whale is always about eight times longer than its staple prey. and for maximum MONSTER WHALE let’s take the upper bound estimate for the colossal squid, 14m, and say that’s the average size of a squid in remnant’s oceans. the result is a whale 112 meters long.

which is a little bit less than FOUR TIMES the size of a blue whale

in war we can see that monstra’s teeth are about as long as salem. for simplicity let’s say that salem is exactly 180cm tall (5'11"). the teeth of a real cachalot is about 20cm long, and an adult male of average size is 16m; a single tooth is 1.25% the length of the body. 1.25% of 112m is 140cm, and 180cm is 1.25% of 144m. the largest adult males can grow as long as 19m, with the longest (verifiably) recorded specimen ever found measuring 20.7m. for our MONSTER WHALE, with an average length of 112m, that is equivalent to large male specimens in the neighborhood of 133m being fairly common and the largest known specimen in history being… 144.9 meters long :)

(rest in FUCKING pieces captain ahab)

now if monstra is 144 meters long that does

imply that atlas is pretty gods damned small, way smaller than makes sense in relation to the size of these buildings. but the scale of atlas is just sort of weird in general—like the urbanized area bisecting the farmland, those buildings are shown to be skyscrapers in closer shots and that should make the shield-generator pylons like kilometers tall but they

clearly aren’t because centinels are not That Big. meanwhile the size difference between monstra and a megoliath looks about right for “four times the size of a blue whale” so i’m inclined to just think atlas is supposed to be itty bitty and the proportional size of the buildings is off in the artwork in the long shots as a stylistic choice. because based on her proportions and interior scale i simply refuse to believe monstra is several kilometers long

about the grimm—their WOR episode implies that grimm Are In Fact obligate predators who will die if deprived of their prey: grimm are known to eat their kills and, contra popular belief that they “are not obligated to feed” but “choose to,” they cannot be kept in captivity for study because if they do not break free and slaughter their captors, they… die…

(this is my favorite fact about grimm and my favorite thing about that WOR; here’s the grimm lady outlining the modern-day scientific consensus about grimm with irony so thick you could cut it with a knife. here is a grimm eating! it lunges at a scavenger to drive the animal away from its kill! salem, deeply sarcastic: the common belief is that grimm don’t need to eat, they’re just evil and violent, also they die when you keep them in cages and don’t feed them, if you even CARE)

and in ‘before the dawn’ the characters make observations that lead them to theorize that grimm are actually after aura, not “negative emotions;” given a huge mass of people of whom a minority have supernaturally elevated aura, grimm swarm the ones with juiced aura and completely ignore everyone else.

so they need to consume aura to sustain themselves, and their (supposedly) exclusive preference for human prey is probably driven by humans having a lot more aura proportionate to their size than plants or animals. but aura isn’t restricted to humans and faunus; it’s a life force that flows through all living things on remnant, including animals. aura is a kind of spiritual energy rising from the soul and seems to be (based on what pyrrha tells jaune in v1) correlated to knowledge, both of the self and of the world. 

so it makes a certain amount of sense to conclude that intelligence and social complexity are positively correlated with aura levels; cetaceans are both of those things. i also imagine that a creature nearly four times the size of a blue whale would need aura to maintain the structural integrity of its body, even suspended in water. also whales can get the bends! so i imagine deep-diving animals on remnant like our MONSTER WHALES tend to have proportionally much higher levels of aura compared to most marine lifeforms, because the long-term damage done by repeated dives (<- osteonecrosis) would be offset by aura’s healing factor and thus there is selective pressure favoring whales with whatever combination of physical and cognitive traits strengthen aura. 

which means i think really large marine grimm like the leviathan would hunt the MONSTER WHALES :)—maybe with hunting strategies akin to orcas preying on cachalots, i.e. in pods targeting calves and injured adults, but also i think grimm are immune to pressure on the grounds that the liquid core of the planet is grimm and i like to imagine grimm crawling out of mid-ocean ridges. so even a lone grimm could probably kill a MONSTER WHALE by forcing it to surface from a dive fast enough. OR HAGFISH-STYLE–

anyway. on the one hand, who is going to get onto a boat to hunt something That Big. but on the other, think of the spermaceti! the blubber! the ambergris! the bones! and the MEAT! you kill one whale and you can feed an entire city for months. and really all you need is a big natural deposit of gravity dust—something like the floating islands of lake matsu would do—that you can carve up to make drogues. few dozen boats, each armed with a couple harpoons roped to huge chunks of gravity dust. you harpoon the whale, fire the dust, the drogues lift it partially out of the water and prevent it from diving, you let it exhaust itself struggling and move in to kill it once it stops moving. salem’s flying battleship whale is just a modification of the technique traditionally used to hunt these things. or if you live on the coast but don’t have grav dust, you harvest drift whales and eat like kings.

in conclusion argus is a whaling town thanks for coming to my tedtalk

[archi-nd]

Skeletal tree in a timeless state. Olympus epl7 + 12-40 @ 35, ND 2-400 variable.

Thanks to DHD digital and amazon for sending me this filter to test!

[handlersandhumans]

Handlers and "Humans" Mechanics Masterpost

Here's a relatively complete masterpost of the mechanics/technologies of Handlers and Humans, as well as a few of the new players.

SPOILER WARNING for Handlers and "Humans" and Armored Core 6

C Wave Mutation: General term for sapient consciousnesses within the Coral, spontaneously generating from it.

Coral Flow: A phenomenon where the Coral microorganism was altered in the circumstances surrounding Rubicon III and Raven. Poorly understood, but hypothesized to be a link between as-of-yet uncounted disparate universes.

Coral Colony: A self-sustaining source of Coral, filtering in material from its surrounding environment and producing new Coral. Rarely forms C-Wave Mutations unless connected to larger bodies of Coral.

Liquid Coral: Coral that does not self-propagate unless connected to a living Coral Colony. Can still be used as fuel.

Inert Coral: Coral that has expended its energy, hardening into a crystalline substance that can be extremely toxic if inhaled or touched with bare skin. Hypotheses suggest that certain ways of burning Coral may cause harmless variants of Inert Coral.

Coral Combustion: The process of burning Coral to generate power. Can be done with liquid Coral, but with a Coral Colony it can be performed indefinitely provided that the Colony can access the necessary materials to grow.

Coral Siphoning: An alternative Coral Energy Source, generates power from the growth of Coral Colonies. Less powerful energy output than Coral Combustion, but considerably more humane.

Coral-Augmented Human: A human that has had their capabilities enhanced by Coral-sourced technology, allowing for a vast variability of enhanced capabilities. These include: Enhanced data processing, piloting aptitude, and memory recall; longevity due to replacement of organic tissues with more stable elements; theorized telepathy.

C-Weapon: Any weaponized vehicle or regular weapon made possible by the use of Coral. Does not have to be Coral-firing or Coral-based (Ex: Weevil Drones and Ghost/Antigen/KITE mechs) but merely has to incorporate Coral-sourced technology.

Stomata Facility: Clandestine facilities built by the Rubicon III Research institute for the storing of specially designed C-Weapons and for operational command.

IC Craft: A C-Weapon created with a similar design ethos to the modern Armored Core, designed to function piloted and unpiloted.

Interconnected Human: A project by Hal Schrafer, former head of the RRI. Stated goals were to create highly-augmented humans/humanoids suited to various high-criticality tasks related to the defense of Rubicon III. In actuality, the Interconnected Humans were designed to "tap in" to the Coral Flow phenomenon, theoretically allowing abilities such as precognition and analysis of alternate timelines.

IB-C02-MMP (Manned Mobile Platform): The 2nd set of IBIS series crafts, possessing high levels of airborne prowess and large loads of ranged weaponry. Bears a red-black design schema, oftentimes abandoning any humanoid shape.

IB-04-LLD (Last Line of Defense): A custom-built IBIS series designed for IH-18 Percolozoa. Bears a chrome and blue-silver color scheme, often employing stylized designs intended for use over long periods of time. Interestingly, the 04 line was never built, yet it exists in Stomata Facility Iota, including two that are modern ACs in everything but internal design. Radiocarbon dating suggests they were built before the modern parts that make them up were even designed.

IB-06-ECHO (External Coral Handling Operations): An odd set of IBIS craft, consisting of pink-white frames and an Ephemera headpiece on each. None of these crafts possess cockpits, and close analysis of the internals may cause nausea, vomiting, dizziness, stroke, internal bleeding, [DATA REDACTED ON ORDERS OF DR. SCHRAFER], reddening and peeling of the skin, open sores, acute Coral Exposure even while wearing proper PPE, and purpura in the eyes. IB-06: ECHO-4999999999999999999 possesses an anomalous resistance to damage and the strange property of creating 9-based imagery in areas around it. Further study required.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Characters unique to Handlers and "Humans":

Hal Schrafer: Ex-head of the Rubicon III Research institute and father of Walter Schrafer, now Walter Nagai.

Celyria: A C-Wave Mutation encountered by Hal with knowledge of alternate timelines.

IH-04 Columbidae: An Interconnected Human with less invasive augmentation/design than the others. Possesses significant abilities in the departments of: Debate, Societal Planning, Social Interaction, and Infrastructure management. Nickname: Loverboy.

IH-09 Mantodea: An Interconnected Human that was never human in the first place. Instead a complex, Coral-based Artificial intelligence has been built into an android with realistic human features. Designed for Espionage, Assassination, Corporate and Governmental Warfare, and Advanced Planning. Nickname: Ghost.

IH-18 Percolozoa: An Interconnected Human blending human and mechanical parts, gone beyond the measures of standard human augmentation. Designed for Long-Term Combat, Tactical Command, Psychological Warfare, Advanced Hacking, and Piloting Skill. Nickname: Sweet-Tooth.

IH-27: Eurypharynx: A Coral Colony that has had human neurons grafted into it, housed within a humanoid robotic suit/shell/android. Designed for Advanced Combat Planning, Advanced Piloting Skill, Advanced Martial Capabilities, and Team Tactics. Nickname: Firebrand.

For Members of Overseer, that list will be created another time.

[sngl-led-auto-lights]

Why do cars now not get better gas mileage?

That's a perceptive observation—while engine technology has advanced significantly, the average fuel economy of new vehicles in the U.S. has stagnated since 2014 after decades of improvement. Here’s why, distilled into key factors:

⚖️ 1. Vehicle Size & Weight Have Skyrocketed Shift to Trucks/SUVs: Over 80% of new vehicles sold in the U.S. are trucks, SUVs, or crossovers—up from 50% in 2013. These are inherently heavier (+800–1,500 lbs vs. sedans) and less aerodynamic.

Safety Regulations: Airbags, reinforced frames, crash structures, and advanced driver aids add 200–500 lbs per vehicle vs. 2000s-era cars.

Feature Bloat: Panoramic roofs, power seats, advanced infotainment, and sound-deadening materials add mass.

🚀 2. Performance Expectations Have Increased Power Over Efficiency: In 2000, the average vehicle had 172 HP and 0–60 mph in 10.5 seconds. Today: 246 HP and 0–60 in 7.5 seconds—despite added weight.

Turbocharging Trade-Offs: Smaller turbo engines (e.g., 2.0L 4-cyl replacing V6s) boost power but often underperform EPA ratings in real-world driving due to turbo lag and driving habits.

🔧 3. Emissions Controls Reduce Efficiency Gasoline Particulate Filters (GPFs): Mandatory in Europe and some U.S. models post-2020 to trap pollutants—they restrict exhaust flow, increasing backpressure and lowering MPG by 2–5%.

Lean-Burn Engine Limitations: Stricter NOx regulations prevent the use of ultra-lean combustion modes that could boost MPG.

🔌 4. Hybrids/Electric Focus Divert Innovation Automakers invest heavily in EVs and plug-in hybrids to meet regulations. Gains from these vehicles offset stagnant gas-engine MPG in fleet averages, but pure gasoline engines see fewer breakthroughs.

Example: Toyota shifted R&D from next-gen gasoline engines to solid-state batteries.

🌪️ 5. Aerodynamics Hit a Wall Despite advanced modeling, drag reduction gains are marginal:

1980s sedans: Cd ~0.35

2024 sedans: Cd ~0.27 (optimal)

SUVs/trucks: Cd ~0.30–0.40 due to height and frontal area. Further improvements are costly and limited by design trends (tall hoods, aggressive grilles).

📈 6. The CAFE Standards Loophole Corporate Average Fuel Economy (CAFE) gives trucks/SUVs looser targets vs. cars. A "large pickup" only needs 25 MPG by 2026 vs. 52 MPG for a sedan.

Automakers exploit this by shifting production to light trucks—artificially lowering fleet efficiency.

⛽ 7. Real-World vs. Lab Testing EPA test cycles (last updated in 2008) underestimate real-world driving:

Aggressive acceleration

Higher highway speeds (75–80 mph vs. 48 mph test cycle)

Use of AC/heat

Modern engines optimized for tests often underdeliver on roads.

💡 Why It’s Not All Bad: Hidden Efficiency Gains Engine Tech: Direct injection, variable valve timing, and 10-speed transmissions do improve efficiency—but gains are consumed by weight and power demands.

Hybridization: Mild-hybrid systems (e.g., Ford F-150) add 2–4 MPG without plug-in complexity.

High-Efficiency Exceptions: Vehicles prioritizing MPG (e.g., Toyota Prius, Honda Accord Hybrid) achieve 50+ MPG—proving it’s possible without compromises.

🔮 Future Trajectory Stricter CAFE 2026 rules may push fleet averages to 52 MPG (vs. 35.2 MPG today).

Turbo-hybrid systems (e.g., Ford Maverick: 37 MPG pickup) and PHEVs bridge the gap.

Weight reduction via aluminum/steel composites remains critical but expensive.

✅ Key Takeaway

Cars are more efficient per pound and per horsepower than ever—but consumer demand for large, fast, feature-heavy vehicles and regulatory trade-offs have hidden these gains. The push toward electrification will likely accelerate net efficiency, but core gasoline engines face diminishing returns without a revolution in materials and aerodynamics.

[jascamille]

Blog Post - 10/3

Can we be known for our virtual presence?

Yes, being known for who you are on any type of social media is possible. When it comes to social media personas are created because of the choices made. The decisions we make through our profile reflect our morals and beliefs. As we know what we post on the internet will stay online forever, it's important to think before posting.

Can the internet be a "utopia"?

The internet cannot be a "utopia". A utopia is described to be a "picture-perfect" reality and especially the internet cannot be perfect. Whether or not people have fake or "real" profiles on social media it's still not reality. Kolko mentions that the longer someone is behind a fake persona their real self when soon rise to the surface. Seen from the Black Mirror episode the lady driving the truck explained how she started to lose her filter when the merit system failed her and her husband.

How can we prevent game creators from creating games like "Shadow Warrior"?

From what we learned about intersectionality, it's important to understand the different variables, to learn one, you must look at the others. Not knowing what intersectionality is, is not knowing different perspectives. As mentioned by Ow, the game makers of "Shadow Warrior" included a very similar event to the real-life event called "My Lai". The event of My Lai took place in Vietnam where hundreds of unarmed citizens were massacred by the U.S. during the Vietnam War. Ow states that the creators of "Shadow Warrior" are ignorant when it comes to using a historical event for the purposes of entertainment. To prevent problematic games such as "Shadow Warrior" again, game companies should make their teams more inclusive. Inclusivity gives perspective and varying experiences, also a great way to reach a broader audience.

What is a "cyborg"?

A cyborg is a combination of technology and an online persona. When reading "Race in Cyberspace" I didn't know there was a different meaning to cyborg, I first thought that a cyborg was like the one in television and movies, but it's a term used in the online world. Online personas of others see the gender of the cyborg before looking at the identity behind the screen. Many believe the term "cyborg" is inclusive, but it's the opposite, cyborg excludes women of color and the LGBTQ+ community, as it truly appeals to white women.

Sources:

Kolko, Beth. "Race in Cyberspace".

Ow, Jeffrey. "The Revenge of the Yellow-faced Terminator".

Ray, M. (2024, September 11). My Lai Massacre. Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/event/My-Lai-Massacre

Brooker, C. (Writer & Director). (2016). Nosedive (Season 3, Episode 1) [TV series episode]. In C. Brooker & B. O’Donnell (Producers), Black Mirror. House of Tomorrow.

[pedaloftheday]

Yesterday, we checked out the amazing Osiris PHILter on BASS...today, let's look at how it sounds on GUITAR, shall we? This Phil Lesh-inspired, reverse engineered marvel brings gorgeous Grateful Dead tones to both of these instruments, sounding marveLESH on bass and fabuLESH on guitar - be sure to watch BOTH DEMOS, cheers!!

[thelivingfractal]

A little update

Hey everyone, here’s a little update on where I’ve been and what I’m up to.

I know I haven’t been posting much lately, and some of you might be wondering why—especially if you followed me for my deep dives into true crime. The truth is, my research has taken a very different direction, and I’ve been completely immersed in something that feels even more important right now.

Everything is going really well. My marriage process is steadily progressing, and my relationship is thriving—things feel strong, stable, and exactly as they should be. But the main reason I haven’t been active is that I’ve been doing intense, real-time research on human consciousness, the nervous system, and how reality itself is constructed.

So, what exactly am I working on?

I’m studying how the body, bioelectricity, and perception all interact to shape what we experience as “reality.” Most people assume reality is just there, something external that we passively move through—but my research suggests that’s not true. Instead, reality is being generated and filtered by our nervous system.

I’ve been tracking everything—my sleep cycles, heart rate variability (HRV), body temperature, and how different factors like food, sleep, emotions, and even electromagnetic fields influence my perception of time, space, and energy. And the patterns I’m seeing are undeniable: • When my nervous system is regulated, my perception of reality expands—I feel time differently, I process information faster, and everything flows. • When my nervous system is dysregulated, reality feels fragmented, chaotic, and more difficult to process.

This means that our state of consciousness isn’t just about the mind—it’s deeply linked to the body’s bioelectric state. And if that’s true, then modern science has been looking at human intelligence and perception completely backward.

What does this mean?

I believe we’re on the edge of a massive shift in how we understand not just the human body, but also how society functions. Everything—our health, technology, governance, and even our relationships—could be restructured based on bioelectric intelligence rather than rigid, mechanical models.

I’ve been so deep into this research that true crime has naturally taken a backseat for now. But I promise, what I’m working on is just as fascinating, if not more so.

Want to keep up with my work?

I’ve been documenting all of this on my website, The Living Fractal, where I share my findings, insights, and research. If you’re curious about any of this, you can check it out here:

🔗 www.thelivingfractal.com

I’ll still be around, just a little quieter while I focus on this research. But if you’ve ever wondered about the deeper mechanics of reality, the intelligence of the body, or how consciousness actually works—this is where my work is heading.

Thanks for sticking around. I appreciate you all.