#Tf data generator

[where-the-water-flows]

If you know how to do it you can use someone’s phone number to find their full legal name and home address. It’s just a bit of Google and knowing what websites stores this kind of info. Saw your tags asking how a phone number could verify someone’s age

So, I appreciate you dropping into my askbox to pass that info on - genuinely, it's kind of you - and I can see how my tags came across, but what I actually meant wasn't 'how can you find info on someone just with their phone number??' -- I actually do exactly that kind of thing in my day job pretty regularly, and I have to conform to a lot of real strict ethic constraints that uh, bluntly, random discord moderators...do not.

What I was actually getting at is the fact that, assuming the hypothetical server is just using a phone number as age verification (and doing data broker/google search on that), how in the hell is it controlling for someone doing what people under the arbitrary age limit du jour have been doing since we started implementing this sort of check, ie, lying like rugs and supplying info for someone in their family/social circle instead who is older than [whatever age].

like. sure. maybe you get a phone number for age verification. awesome. plug that into your data broker/google/etc of choice, run your searches, and ok, it belongs to jane smith, 38 years old, accountant who lives in ballarat, she's totally fine to join the 18+ server! come on in jane, the smut is plentiful and the doves are extremely dead. Jane smith has a kid. jane smith's kid is 15. jane smith's kid isn't allowed in the server, because it's an 18+ only server.

jane smith's kid almost certainly knows their mum's mobile number.

how the hell can Hypothetical Server Mod control for 15 year old jane smith's kid putting in jane smith's mobile number instead of their own? and also, separately, how the hell is HSM dealing with the many -- many many many -- different privacy laws around the globe?

not just in terms of handling that sort of information on people (and also requesting it in the first place!), but also just. some countries you can get so much fucking info on someone! (the US. I'm talking about the US.)

some you can't. because privacy laws, because the info isn't publicly accessible, because it's not online and is only in hard copy at the local government office, because it's collated but only in a nonenglish language, because it's geolocked-- etc.

also, like. even if the hypothetical phone number brings up someone in the US, and also your hypothetical mod team has decided, y'know, fuck privacy laws, security of information and data ethics can take a long walk off a short pier, we're keeping this server 18+ or dying trying!

data brokers aren't...actually consistently what you would call...super accurate, or like, accurate at all. if you have a unique name, yeah, sure, you're probably kinda fucked! (assuming you're in, again, somewhere the data brokers focus) but like. if you're named something a little more common - say, james smith, or maria sanchez in the US- uh. well. there sure are a lot of people you could be, and some of them - most of them! - are over 18.

and ok, sure, a phone number is (usually) only associated with one person, but. you can get a lot of false positives, false negatives, and straight up 'we don't know 🤪', the latter of which is sometimes hidden by the databrokers going 'our best guess is that this person is: An Age!! somewhere between 0 and 200 years old. 😇'

again, I use this stuff for work, I can tell you exactly how inaccurate it can get as soon as you throw something like 'not based in the US/UK' or 'uses a nickname/multiple name formats' or 'isn't super online' or 'older than 65 and not turbo wealthy' at some of these - I've had more than one confidently tell me that [my wallet name] is an accountant based in darwin who makes horror films in alice springs on the side, and also, is 26, and had 2-3 kids with her husband Lauchlan.

literally none of these facts are true. like. even vaguely.

and that can of worms doesn't even get into if someone has requested to be removed from data broker databases and/or takes online privacy Very Seriously and/or is just fundamentally ungoogleable, which is...more common than you'd think. less common than you'd like, but more common than you think, even before google started enshittifying itself out of existence.

which is why when you're trying to do things like prove your identity to uhhh goverments, banks, etc, they want multiple forms of ID, one of which is usually a photo ID, none of which anyone should be sending to a random on discord, or, frankly, asking for from a random on discord, both bc my god privacy and security risk but also like. handling that information can actually have legal requirements!

anyway. extremely long ramble on the failings of databrokers over, I appreciate you reaching out to help explain and it was very kind of you anon, sorry that I have. uhhhh kind of a lot of professional feelings about data privacy and basic social engineering, by which I mean saying 'no I'm totally 18 pinkie swear' in the grand tradition of teens wanting to get into age locked areas ever, your forebears lied on LJ so you could lie on discord.

[kaonarvna]

I really do love that every couple of weeks several accounts seem to binge like/repost my silly Shockwave sketches. I'd say 70+% of the time this happens, the accounts visibly belonging to trans women.

Like, hell yeah. Didn't expect my Shockwave obsession to resonate with trans women specifically, but I'm here for it. Thank you. I'm glad you like him as much as I do.

[tealeavesandthorns]

// just a rant in the tags please ignore lol

[autffiy]

A little something about your Subconscious mind

As we all know our subconscious mind is what helps us manifest right? If you don't know, let me explain it to you in a semi scientific way that i learned recently. (spoiler alert; this made it click for me.)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

WARNING LONG POST AHEAD :p

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

So 5% is the  Conscious mind, thats what helps us know words, numbers, languages and logic.

95% is the  subconscious mind that corresponds with visuals, symbols, dreams, emotion, repetition, tone during sleep, relaxation, stories.  aka the best way to update the “system”            

Our subconscious mind has RAS ( Reticular activating system) which distorts, deletes and generalizes all the information you recieve. Based on believes, values, identity, memories, past decisions, mood, location/ times.

You→ recieve information by the 5 senses with 2.3 million hits per second of data. 128 bits is what your mind will process and that creates meaning+behavior. Which means your reality is a filtered, distorted, generalized version of events.

The subconscious mind → is like a tape player, change the tape, change/upgrade the mind. 

Our beliefs exist in our blindspot. The blindspot is created by the mind.

Become aware of your limiting beliefs, not by going in war with your thoughts but redirecting them.

You must leave out the idea that circumstances have any power over you, they don't.

Repetition helps you believe in your beliefs.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

If you suffer a lot with limiting beliefs i reccomend you writing them down, somewhere that you can acces easily. It might be a notebook, ypur notes app, whatever works for you. I want you to write all your limiting beliefs down. Doesn't matter if you have one or a lot, write them down. Then i want you to flip those beliefs, turn them around. Write them down as well, you can write them behind your limiting beliefs or create a new list. These are your new beliefs and you will stick to them.

Some examples:

I can't manifest, manifesting is hard and takes so long.➙ Manifesting is so easy, i always manifest instantly. Manifesting doesn't take long at all.

Money is hard to get➙ Money is easy to get, i get money effortlessly

You have to work for money➙ i don’t have to work for money, hell i can lay in bed all they and receive large amounts of money daily.

I am unlovable➙ No tf i’m lovable i’m perfect, i’m irresistible, everybody wants me. Period, I am so perfect.

They don’t love me➙ They love me, in fact they worship the ground i walk on, they need me, they can’t live without me.

They have another partner➙ Who? I AM their partner, they only love me. That was their cousin or their friend.

I am fat and ugly➙ I am so perfect and pretty, god i look so amazing. I am skinny, my body is so pretty and perfect.

See what i did here? I took my limiting beliefs and flipped them around. And i will now tick to these. Repeating them, not thinking back to those old stupid trashy beliefs. By repeating ypu will create a new assumption and that is what creates your "new" reality.

I promise you if you just persist and repeat in these new thoughts everything will work out for you.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

That was a long one, phew. Thanks for reading all the way to the end!!! Happy manifesting. Love you!!

XOXO

[foggieststars]

I think you guys are thinking too much about it. AI or no AI a fic is a fic. It doesn't matter. You think you writing about real people is ethical? Writing them fucking and with controversial pairings? AI is all over the place like get used to it. If someone is using AI to fix their errors, or to just improve some writing why tf do you care? Y'all are just entitled. Not everyone's great at English. Just stfu and LET people write what they want. God.

hi, this is such an ignorant ask i'm incredibly surprised you felt confident enough to hit send! but i'll engage with you in good faith regardless.

yes, there are debates about the ethics of writing RPF, but i think comparing them to the ethical debates about the use of AI is frankly quite laughable. not only does AI have an incredibly detrimental impact on the environment, the impacts are likely to be unequal and hit already resource-strained environments the hardest. (i am providing sources for you here, something i'm assuming you're unfamiliar with since you are so in favour of relying on AI to generate 'original' thought). moreover, many AI models rely on data scraping in order to train these models. it is very often the case that creators of works on the internet - for example, ao3 - do not give consent for their works to be used to train these models. it raises ethical questions about ownership of content, and of intellectual property beyond fanfiction. comparing these ethical dilemmas to the ethics of rpf is not an argument that convinces me, nor i'm sure does it convince many others.

"AI is all over the place like get used to it" - frankly, i'm not surprised you're so supportive of AI, if this is the best argument in its favour you can muster. you know what else is all over the place?? modern slavery! modern slavery's extremely commonplace across the world, anti-slavery international estimate that about 50 million people globally are living in modern slavery. following the line of your argument, since modern slavery is so commonplace, this must make it okay, and we should get used to it. the idea that just because something is everywhere makes it acceptable is a logical fallacy. do you see how an overreliance on AI reduces your ability to critically think, and to form arguments for yourself?

please explain to me how i'm entitled for thinking that relying on AI to produce something of generally, extremely poor quality, is poor behaviour on your part, or the part of other people who do it. you don't have to write fanfiction in english, and if you do struggle with english, there are MANY talented betas in this fandom who i'm sure would be willing to lend a hand and fix SPAG. you are NOT going to improve your english by getting AI to fix it for you.

as @wisteriagoesvroom helpfully pointed out "art is an act of emotion and celebration and joy and defiance. it is an unshakeable, unstoppable feeling that idea that must and should be expressed" - this is not something you can achieve via the use of AI. you might think it's not that deep, but for many people who dedicate hours of their time to writing fanfiction, it feels very much like a slap in the face. and what's more, it produces negligible benefits for the person who is engaging in creating AI fanfiction.

i agree with you that people should write whatever they want, but the operative word in that statement is write. i do not, and will not ever consider inputting prompts into chatgpt a sincere form of artistic creation. thanks!

[sophianightdreamer]

Things that happened in the Official Transformers RPG's lore.

So, I've got my hands on all three rulebooks of the official TF RPG. And also the G. I. Joe RPG, but that's irrelevant right now. My batch did not include the crossover rulebook, sadly.

Therefore, notes on the lore and other details in the "basic" canon, because TFWiki did not go into the details, that grew into this list of odd events mentioned.

First thing first, the general continuity is very close to Cyberverse or G1 Fanon, having the basic outline of G1 cartoon, but with details and chunks of backstory pulled from elsewhere - Optimus is a former archivist/data clerk, Bumblebee is a sportscar, et cetera.

To note, there's a somewhat short introductory "who-is-who" list and basic character sheets with profiles both.

Well, I've already got my whiplash, so it's your turn now.

There's something very funky going on with Devastator. Prowl's introduction blurb directly states that something Combiner Wars-esque/Prowlstator has happened, and reads as implying that Autobots hijacked Devastator. By all accounts, Scrapper is alive, making it a possible genuine canonical instance of Prowlastator with Scrapper alive, but the Constructions as whole are placed with the Decepticons. But, Tergamax mentions that among people that were at any moment replacement parts of Devastator there were five Autobots, Prowl included. What happened?

The "who is who" listing for Autobots includes declarations of jobs/roles/traits. Some of these are notable: 1) Ironhide is a chemist 2) Swerve is in Public Relations 3) Rung is Psy-Ops 4) Perceptor is specifically an engineer 5) Bumblebee is noted as "Hero of the People". Must be popular.

Speaking of roles, monochromatic SIC of the day is Jazz, who is also a strategist now.

All of the people in the introductory list are implied to be the Ark crew, and there are problems regarding space travel for Autobots right now. This means that Anode, Lug, those two kids from IDW2, Elita's team and Glyph are on the crew.

Rattrap is a Decepticon.

Optimus Prime has a thick Iaconian accent in Cybertronian. It turns "Teletraan" into "Teletron".

Character sheets include a list of languages that character speaks. Some of these past the standart English+Cybertronian are completely random. Optimus Prime speaks Dutch. Korean is surprisingly popular. In what could be a nice callback, Slingshot has Arabic. The only two people who know the language of newly-introduced alien species of Catharsians are Ratchet and Wildrider. But the crown is taken by First Aid, who has both ASL and Quileute. Yes, the basically extint language of a small tribe warring legally with Stephanie Meyer.

Speaking of languages, both Megatron and Shockwave are noted passable polyglots, and both lack the Universal Translator perk Soundwave, Blaster and Perceptor have. But while Megatron has vague but limited "languages from across Decepticon territory", Shockwave has "all common languages", implying he knows at least a bit of almost everything manually.

Tracks is a triple changer, apparently.

Decepticons' thing is mass-producing sparkless drone clones of their own members.

There's a general threat level system with lists included, where 0 is a random human civilian, 24 is Optimus and Megatron, and 25 is Omega Supreme and Scorponok. Chosen numbers for some characters are thought-provoking. Jazz is 14. Ratchet is 15. First Aid is 9. Wildrider is 6. Ironhide and Starscream are tied with 17. Lord Zarak by himself is 10.

Transformers The Movie sort-of happened, with no apparent notable casualties except for Megatron, who got Galvatroned, but there is a chance that Cyclonus, while a minion of Unicron, predates those events. He is also in an odd position of formally being a part of Decepticons and not the followers of Unicron, who are technically a separate faction.

Scorponok and Deathsaurus are member of Decepticon High Command/Conclave along with Shockwave and Soundwave. Nobody trusts Starscream, so he is not there, but he has the air force.

Mindwipe is, once again, a sorcerer.

Predacons, the combiner team, somehow adopted a sharkticon.

The evil plan du jour of, apparently, pre-Unicron era is converting Earth into the second Cybertron via several colony sites.

[jinuaei]

Godbless you for writing yandere where the reader is actually the one that’s more in control, it’s so hard to find yandere where the reader isn’t literally getting owned, emotionally and physically.

I just imagine Tarn with like a famous YN and discovering fanfics of them, he’s gonna be so appalled but he prob read them as like a guilty pleasure, especially the explicit ones.

It's rare to see sub!Character authors so I go crazy when I do find one, @/muletia is my fav TF writer by far!

And Tarn with a famous reader is such a good dynamic, especially if we still follow the lore of Tarn being close/'serving' the reader directly. Like he is happy that a lot of people appreciate you! That means all of them see your greatness the same way as he sees you, but also he'd be so competitive with his worship.

He always has to be your no 1 fan! The other bots/people who's saying that they are your #1 fan are lying! They'll find themselves on The List (tm) and will stay there until a) they retract their statement and say that Tarn is and always will be your #1 fan, or b) they can't say anything because they're dead. Also, haters will always get the latter treatment.

Anyways, he'd buy every merch to add to his shrine, he'd always be the first one on a merch drop and he'll buy two of each. One for the shrine, and the other to use for uh... other ways of worship. My gods he'd definitely run to you as soon as he gets the merch and have you sign it.

Fics are a whole different can of worms, because I agree, it is a guilty pleasure, he'd read every fic that even mentions you in any tags or genre(I think he'd be a big fan of you x readers LMAO). Smut is for when he is alone in his berthroom, but imagine him on his back, reading smut of 'him' and you interfacing, servos rubbing his node while occasionally slipping his digits inside his valve. And then the fic you suddenly says or do something that you will never do and he just lays there, frozen. It takes him a minute before he removes his servos to furiously type on the data pad to rant about how 'they would never say this!' and 'You don't know them like I do and this is BULLSHIT!!!'.

The horny energy is gone now and all that is replaces is pure, devotion fueled rage. And out of spite, he'd make his own fic, that is so accurate that it makes people question who the author is. The fans would always question whether it is a stalker, or one of your staff members, because it's so terrifyingly accurate it actually concerns some fans. But with how eloquent he is and how passionate his writing is, it's no wonder that he'd be a popular writer among fans.

Oooh, also depending on his role on your staff team, most fans would see you together a lot (I'm thinking he'd be a bodyguard honestly) and the way he treats you is so gentlemanly and so sweet that fans actually ship you both, but he also has his own fanbase of simps.

Going back to fics, after people started shipping you two there will definitely be an influx of fanworks; edits, fanart, and fanfics!! Once he discovers your ship ITS OVER! Nobody is safe from his commitment to the ship, HE'D EVEN MAKE MORE REASONS TO SHIP YOU TWO. He's the type to show off how good of a partner he is, and always make sure that the cameras always capture how sweet he is to you (as a way to claim you definitely).

I also think he'd be a lurker, he'd have a secret account he'd use to comment, share, and save all of the fanworks that involves you. He'd be in every post ever that he becomes infamous as the no. 1 Tarnxyou shipper, or a you fan in general.

Goodness I've been yapping so much about his but yes! I approve of this.

[starberry-cupcake]

we're back!!!! and oh boy did things happen in this one

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general recap tag

CHAPTER 16 (a building?? a tower?? I mean, considering how things go to hell, the tower is correct from a tarot standpoint...)

nona is unceremoniously woken up from her nap time by honesty coming in like a thunderbolt, announcing necromancers are putting on a show

everyone has opinions, except for kevin, who only says "ugh" and wants to be left alone

we love kevin

I think kevin could kill the emperor in like 5 minutes

born in the morning...I'm sorry, born in the morning

(still not over whatever that was)

says that necromancers are lying because they can't do anything to them due to varun

there are mixed opinions on this

angel teacher tells the kids not to go to the necromancer movie screening because it's dangerous and doesn't want them to end up hurt or taken in by authorities

she says "that's going to add to the fracas"

idk what "fracas" means and I couldn't find it either

everyone promised not to, except nona (who wasn't asked)

but sriracha girlie crossed her fingers, so clearly she's up to no good

and nona is onto her

angel teacher is very responsible and looking out for the kids, making sure they're protected and that they're properly picked up by family or staying somewhere safe

nice to see some responsible adults

I think abby the fifth would have done the same

abby and magnus adopting all these lost boys

in an au in which they weren't part of the people who are enemies to these kids

and they were alive

but things aren't nice and cozy for long, because camilla is late to pick up nona

I'm worried af about that, where is my wife

palmolive istg if you made her bleed again...

angel teacher notices that nona is distressed about that, so she tells her to take out noodle

sriracha girlie offers to go with her and so does honesty, but honesty has to sit tf down

honesty wants to do business and quit school but also wants to draw and open windows and go take noodle outside, there's a lot going on with honesty today

my guy is overstimulated over here

sriracha girlie tells nona, as they take noodle out, that the person in the car that dropped angel teacher checked all the doorways and entrances of the opposite building in a professional fashion

which sriracha girlie considers sus

very in character with her nature of jumping into the worst possible situations, sriracha girlie wants to escape to watch the necro movie with nona

nona disagrees and says that, if they do that, angel teacher is never going to trust them again

to which sriracha girlie replies "the asset doesn't have to trust you"

*sriracha girlie shoots me in the head*

the masterplan is to put a note in noodle's collar and make him go upstairs while they go watch the necro movie show

nona feels uncomfy with the plan but, once she decides to go, she thinks she'd better be in it 100%

and she remembers someone telling her "Once you've stepped in, you're in. This isn't the Hokey Pokey"

LET ME BRING BACK MY THEORIES

I mentioned in my last recap that a third option was that this could be ice cube barbie aka annabell lee aka alleged alecto in harrow's body

this additional data would fit that theory, because the hokey pokey being dropped there sounds like something either dr reverend emperor john asshat or a lyctor would say

it sounds like such a dr reverend emperor john thing to say, actually

I'm gonna add the hokey pokey as a point for ice cube barbie

that sentence out of context would get me checked for a concussion

the girls get into the place where the screen is being set and there's a sea of people in there, which sounds like a full on nightmare to me

it reminds me of the overcrowded planet from star trek

the overcrowded planet called 'gideon'

necromancer music festival vibes over here

so, at first there's no image and only a disembodied voice who is talking about terms of surrender or, how they're framing it, "negotiation"

one part I'd like to point out from the whole initial speech is that they state that if one fraction of the population goes against the terms, everyone will be considered accountable for it

textbook oppressor move to put the oppressed groups against each other, especially in times of internal turmoil

so, the screen turns on finally and immediately, by nona's description, before any additional information, I know this is yandere twin

"their huge screen-magnified eyes were quite pretty, Nona decided: blue, with brown bits"

yeah, absolutely yandere twin

yandere twin continues listing demands and the last point of them is that those who belong to the houses and didn't make themselves known

(aka our gang, coronabeer and judith)

have 24 hours to turn themselves in

she introduces herself as "Prince Ianthe Naberius the First, the Lyctor Prince, the Saint of Awe"

but, we've got bigger problems

because next to yandere twin is gideon's body in a very peeta-mellark-taken-by-the-capitol situation

"the only alive thing about this second person was their hair, neatly arrayed with a wreath of fingerbones and white, springlike blossoms: wildly red hair, red enough to make the electric hexagons struggle with it. It was the face of the girl in her dream"

so, let me just say one thing

HOW DID WE LOSE GIDEON'S BODY, PEOPLE????

THIS IS THE TRUE "OVERSIGHT BODY"

WE HAD HER, SHE WAS WITH CORONABEER AND JUDITH AND CAMILLA

HOW TF IS SHE THERE NOW

WHO'S FAULT IS THIS

"Her Most Serene Highness, Crown Prince Kiriona Gaia, heir to the First House, the Emperor's only daughter"

(Most is written with emphasis)

I want to gut this secondhand god alive

if we can't kill his ass, we can surely pull a prometheus on him

chain him to a rock and have a mythological creature eat his guts every day

let him regenerate, do it all over again

maybe we can try that

let kevin loose on him

not only because they have gideon's very clearly not responsive body, also because they're forcing her to present femme

how dare they

"gaia" I get, because goddess of earth, the personification of earth, the mother of all things

I don't know who "kiriona" is and I'm not gonna search because I can get spoilers

"curiously, Nona noticed she didn't even seem to be breathing"

yeah, we've got a classic case of soulless body

the video ends and sriracha girlie is shook

she says "they're not people" and "they're not real"

a real pain in the ass is what they are, these lyctors

lyctor, singular, sorry, Lyctor Prince Im-The-Only-One-Left-So-I-Can-Get-A-Title-For-It

remember when there was a competition thing to become one of these assholes? we were young and didn't know better

thank god camolive dodged that bullet

ANYWAY

nona uses the techniques to help others calm down that she learned with camilla to assist sriracha girle through her panic attack

she does really well, I'm proud of her

pat in the head for nona

she deserves a treat for this

(which reminds me, I found my puppy chewing a pencil yesterday and nona came to my mind like that scene in ratatouille)

nona maneuvers sriracha girlie through the dense crowd of arguing people, but then someone fires a gun

all hell breaks loose, sriracha girlie activates and they escape through very unsanitary passageways

nona cuts her hand

thankfully, in comes angel teacher in her sus car and picks them up

angel teacher says kevin was in hysterics

why are we putting kevin through bad situations, he should be our priority

now that our top priority of preserving gideon's body HAS BEEN RUINED

WHO FUCKED THAT UP

sriracha girle and angel teacher try to check out nona's cut and nona is very insistent that they don't, so that they don't find out that she has regenerative powers

which is another point in the thing I was saying before, that this wasn't the Secret she shared with sriracha girlie

otherwise, she'd be crucified in the square right about now

but this provides further confirmation that this wasn't it

so many freakin' lose ends and clues for later and breadcrumbs I have to pick up

unknown baby driver apparently has a good handle of House

and is freakin' pissed with angel teacher for having to drive around, collecting kids

they ask where they can drop nona off and when she says she lives in "the building" "really truly" baby driver almost dislocates their head trying to turn to stare at her, exorcist style

baby driver and angel teacher proceed to have a sus conversation

"Pretending you can bandage bipeds? Teaching snot-nosed kids about particles?" "If people knew this was how you spent your time, Aim—" "Now I see. Chance to be her, huh? A little independent living for once?" "It is my enormous privilege to be they."

is angel teacher some kind of politically or militarily important figure? a very important vet? why the change of pronouns? who's her? who's they?

DON'T TELL ME

when they get into the gate for the building everyone kind of minds their business and looks away from them

nona thinks maybe it's because of the grille

idk though, everything about these two is strange

angel teacher asks nona to promise to go to school the next day, because it will be a safe place for them

bless angel teacher, someone doing something to protect the kids in these trying times

baby driver should respect that

nona tells angel teacher she loves her before going into the building, though she didn't mean to say it out loud

when she comes in, camilla is there, waiting anxiously

THANK GOD, I CAN'T TAKE MORE PROBLEMS RIGHT NOW

THANK GOD YOU'RE ALRIGHT CAMILLA, MY BELOVED

but not everything is good because pyrrha was supposed to pick up nona from school and never showed

gosh darn it, pyrrha

so much chaos and I still have a lot of book left to read

how is there so much happening at all times

JOHN 19:18

"There they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle."

well, alright then

starting out strong over here

dr reverend emperor john is scared of water, apparently

I don't know if this is the River or otherwise

there was a part of the River that almost gets his ass, so it could be that

he's talking directly again to alleged!harrow, who might not be harrow and might be ice cube barbie, but idk yet

"every time you breathed funny, we wet ourselves"

he says some people flaked from the whole thing but he didn't care as long as he had his diehard soon-to-be-lyctors with him

and his two toy corpses

on that note, he says that he was frustrated that they were unable to respond, even if he could make their hearts and brains work

because they don't have a soul

like gideon right now, who's kinda like these two, sitting there but looking dead

he can revive the body but not the soul

they didn't know about the river yet

they keep arguing with the authorities about their project and its limitations, including maternity, which seems to be a problem

mercygirl was against a plan that "incorporates reproductive injustice"

the authorities wanted to evacuate the whole population and had managed to find a way, but it wasn't really tested and they argued that it might not work

the plan was to send one ship first and then use it as a tugboat to get the rest

dr john god says he should have killed the conspiracy theorists instead of the cows, because they are using the cows as a way to protest that he's unhinged

(at this point in the recap process there was a massive power outage and I almost lose everything, so thank you hellsite and thank you tab)

augustine and mercygirl say that this is all lies and the billionares are probably gonna bolt in the ship and leave everyone behind

which checks out not only with disaster films but also with reality

augustine said that they were going to use things they came up with to leave everything behind

and then, dr reverend emperor john butt says

"They left you, they left you. They saw you suffering on dollar-shop life-support, and they didn't look back. They didn't give a fuck about trying to save you. They left." "I don't remember" " I can't forget"

is he talking about the Earth? like the planet? is this like some sort of personalization of the planet or...????

it feels like he's talking about the whole planet and not just one person but what do I know

gonna have to put a pin on that thing I said about gaia and the personification of earth that I mentioned before, I guess

don't make fun of me, my theories and my process please

thank you

and that is all for now!!! starting day four next time!!!! things are happening!!!

[blackpilljesus]

Why I'm no longer a feminist

For context I've been heavily involved in liberal & radical feminist spaces, skirted around marxfems but they're all similar behaviour wise while claiming to be better than others which is what all the below points are based on. All of these apply irrespective of the type of feminism.

Feminism failed - Around 2020/2021 when I was still a feminist, I read an article about how feminism failed and realised it was right. It highlighted how it's been decades of feminism yet it took a pandemic to set women back (women turning to sex work to survive, women quitting their jobs to take care of kids) and it got me thinking. All this pandering to moids, all this work, yet women are always one political disaster away from losing it all. Now tbf it isn't exactly a fair battle with decades of established feminism going up against millenias of oppression but the below points certainly do not help feminism move womens freedom/rights forward.

So much infighting - Nobody is ever a true feminist. Despite everything feminists would say about maIe violence & how it affects womens lives; they'd lash out, smear, or block women that actually hated maIes. I'll never forget being blocked by a big feminist page for saying how women would be better off living without maIes in our lives using their poll data collected on what women would do if maIes didn't exist for 24 hours. They claimed I was being hateful to maIes like come tf on everyone else gets to hate their oppressor but women. Also I've noticed feminists are generally nicer to maIes despite all the abuse but harsher to women they disagree with. Complaining about maIes is just a hobby to them, when a woman more serious comes along they attack that woman more than they attack abusive maIes. Similarly they defend maIes more fiercely than they defend women & girls. Says a lot about their character. I'll expand more on these phenomenons on lower points. Having civil disagreements among feminists is rare (which is what happens when there's no direction) as disagreements will end up in explosive fights full of abuse, smearing, doxxing, etc. It's especially worse as a lot of the time these fights are over moids.

No clear goal or direction - It can't even be agreed among feminists who the movement is for, who is benefitting & being harmed by the system, and the goal. I get that there's usually factions within big ideologies but there's almost no cohesion among feminists which makes it difficult to even discuss let alone advocate so instead of moving forward, feminists go around in circles. Feminism doesn't seem to actually be going anywhere.

Not helpful to marginalised women (in the west) - Despite claims of adopting Intersectionality, marginalised women are often left out of serious mainstream conversations by feminists i.e. black women left out of blm as voices & efforts are focused on marginalised maIes.

Lot of copium - Rather than addressing problems, many feminists want to pretend the problem doesn't exist with a sister circle of women that'll do the same.

Realised how toxic & complicit women are - Even several feminists can be toxic maIe lovers willing to drag any woman & her name through mud for maIes sake. So much enabling behaviour is peddalled in the name of "sisterhood" but let it be a woman that doesn't want anything to do with maIes and feminists have no problem excluding & hating on her. Feminists speak about how women are just too kind & empathetic for their own good which is very misleading. Women are manipulative & also calculative with their actions, they aren't the innocent victims feminists preach them to be (not saying they have to be innocent but it's disingenuous & reckless pretending otherwise). Women (including feminists) will be gentle with maIes but harsher with women; especially women that merely disagree with them. Another issue I have with feminists is that (especially with radfems) they push "men bad women good" agenda when women are also bad. Just because they're oppressed doesn't mean they cant be bad. Whenever women have power (esp over other women) they can be evil. Besides the fact that women still love moids despite everything they do & their "bountless empathy goodwill nature" mostly extends to maIes says a lot about their so-called "goodness".

Realised most of this is just a pass-time until women find & lock in their nigels - Even fierce radical feminists of the 80s that went all out eventually settled down with a moid & kids reflecting on their radfem days as a hobby. I'm not looking to do the same. Many feminists, even the most staunch ones eventually end up bragging about finding a good man that's not like the rest, he's different they're sure of it (said every woman ever). The thing that gets me is that they cant even shut up about their nigel in a space supposedly for women, they want to affirm their ego by flaunting their special nigel to other women then months down the line it's "actually he was a manipulative POS" sure sis.

Saw how common maIe panderering is - each type of feminist accuses the other of pandering to maIes when they all do it, just in different ways and yes this includes radfems which was my last straw. Also many feminists prop up maIe voices even for the most simplest thing, they'll stand behind maIes being treated like crap by other ones for defending women but they wouldn't do that to women. I've realised that for most feminists it isn't about helping women advance irrespective of maIes but reforming maIes for their personal desires which takes me to the next point.

Despite all the complaining, statistics, news, theory, analysis; most feminists want to be with a moid & reproduce at some point completely overlooking everything they preach - I've realised how performative most feminists are. Separatism & the notion of not dating or reproducing with maIes gets so much hate bc these women only want to complain & get dopamine off playing victim. They want to have their cake and eat it and I want to part in that. Gets draining being in these spaces if you actually want nothing to do with moids & their evil. You get attacked for hating or wanting nothing to do with maIes instead of wanting to reform them. It's at a point where I'm agitated seeing the same headlines, discourse, theory, etc repetitively. It's like a pest, it irritates me because nothing will change. Moids will continue to abuse women with no consequences & women (including feminists) will continue to love them. I just dont care anymore. I've noticed the maIe panderers & reformers obsess over the repetitive theory, headlines, stats, etc because they want to change maIes to make it easier to settle down with them. Those of us who see that moids are past the point of redemption & want them gone aren't spending our days dolling out the same stats & theories. Look at many serious separatist/4b et al pages, many of them don't talk about maIes much (second half of this anons ask was questioning why I don't prominently speak about men & misogyny) and this is because we see the pattern, have drawn our conclusions, and now want to move forward. Saw the below photo in my gallery & it sums up this point tho it applies to all feminist communities. Drives you crazy when you're not invested in maIes or forming relationships with them. SN; bear discourse is also an example of this.

Realised that this goes beyond witty one-liners & comebacks - I feel like many feminists have created a culture of who can have the hottest take & it's become a thing of snapping back at maIes sorta like the below video explains rather than caring about women.

At some point when you actually don't care for maIes, you don't feel much & the discourse means nothing. I dont care if their behaviour is social or biological, I dont care if they can be reformed, I don't care if I or my actions dont make sense to moids, I just view them all as threats & want to be safe from their evil. No amount of throwing stats & headlines at moids will get them to change. Even if you "win" debates it doesn't bring material value for women but of course this pads many feminists egos as they've got an interest in changing maIes.

Saviour complex - many feminists have saviour complexes which causes arrogance fuelling many of the problems above. People are more aware than they let on and this includes about misogyny but a lot of feminists care more about looking like heros to feel good about themselves rather than actually helping women & girls. P.S todays set of feminists aren't the first set (or even first 3) of women to have the 'theory' of patriarchy that they do.

Feminism has generally done good work over the years for women but with what I want I dont see feminism achieving it. The light switch flipped for me when I saw that these issues from feminists weren't because of a minority but a majority. This isn't even personal I've seen feminists treat other women like crap for maIe validation. Look at what happened when the depp v heard trial was going on & how several feminists initially sided with depp to prove they can hold "female abusers" accountable & claim moids are victims with the expectation maIes can do the same. Feminists even went against andrea dworkin herself when she was raped. I've realised most women do not want liberation as this will likely come without their happily-ever-after life with maIes so they settle for reformation; however this cant be done without other women also taking hits which is why they'll pull the "we're all in it together bs".

[keysnocar]

we repost just so i can move his etching

@ghotstx HERE im sorry for clickbaiting you here :)

Also I can’t make this up, I literally mixed up ur username w another person so..welcome.? Haha

@ghostbny

Anyway, I'm FINALLY getting time to add to my TF Prime Numbers AU, starting with a little Orion ref/doodle sheet. This mostly helps me get to know what kind of character I'd like this version of him to be. (and ngl the plot has been whooping me idk what's happening or why sometimes :() )

This is Orion! Or, as the other bots know him,"37." (I’ll explain it later gng)

Here, he’s been with the autobots for around four vorns, (since he was just over 13 vorns old.) 

His Weapon isn't the familiar star saber or Zeta Prime's Axe. This choice involves his 'childhood', as does his design. I kept his lovable boxyness (well i love it) but made him less detailed, with less armor in general- though specifically around the joints. This is mostly because I wanted him to be a smaller bot, with an emphasis on his agility and flexibility, rather than being a heavy hitter. (at least in his youth.)

The Matrix also has a bit of change in its functionality, use, and importance to the plot.

Both of which I'll expand on in a separate post.

DON'T BE MISTAKEN by my choices in drawing him, he's never without the face mask unless alone.

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

The little doodles I have of him are more so to solidify his personality while he's this age range, but this is dependent on what’s going on around him as well. His age has proven to complicate some of my plot, but since he’d bonded with the Matrix at 13, it made sense to me that he’d been gradually reformatted in that short span of time between that and joining the autobots by the Matrix . So he appears much older. (I’ll explain it later gang Ik it’s weird but its important hshgjfhd)

Since taking up residence in the main Autobot Outpost on Cybertron, Orion, or "37" works mostly in solo reconnaissance, scouting territories, or pathfinding for small teams on other kinds of missions. When on base. He focuses on compiling the small amount of data the Autobot faction has managed to gather or receive on any prominent threats.

He ‘moved in’ with the Autobots around an earth year after the ‘ Fall of Gold.’ (as many bots had not-so-fondly begun calling it.) This event being the night that Decepticon forces raided, and then destroyed the large informational hubs of Iacon. This included but was not limited to the Senate Hall, Multiple high class Universities, and the Records tower. To many this marked the true beginning of the war- as the attack and largely successful destruction of such a profound city solidified the danger of the rapidly growing Decepticon movement.  After Iacon fell, the other strongholds of the planet have been slow, but surely following.

In his free time, he’s always reading, thinking, filing, sorting, polishing, solving- 'doing' something. there isn't a spare second he's not busying his mind, or if he can't at least manage that, his servos. 

Orion is not social in the SLIGHTEST with new bots. (this being all of his Autobot peers)  It 100% creeps everyone else out when he attempts to be. (he's got these large, piercing, non-emotive optics that seem to stare past and yet into anyone who's got his attention- and WOW is it an alarming, unreadable, gaze to be caught in if you don't know him well.)

The rare moment or two he does find himself in a conversation about something other than strategy or information he'd gathered- others find his conversation.. lacking at most. It's not that he isn't interested, not at all. It's more so that any personal information he dares to give away may end up doing more harm to his goals among the autobots than good. It sure is a lot easier to keep your origins to yourself, if everyone's too intimidated or put off to speak with you.

It's mostly because of this, that he prefers quietly watching and taking things in, over putting himself into a conversation. It's simply how he's accustomed to and has been taught how to function. Observing and compiling, interpreting and mimicking.

(That being said he is still a ‘teenager’ so it sort of sucks trying to keep himself isolated.)

His more reclusive behavior tends to keep other bots from bothering him. His quietly observant posture and constantly active tendencies often leave the others assuming he's got no time for- or interest in talking.

 He sees all of this as a good thing, the first few vorns of living with the bots, as he’s committed to putting all of his focus on figuring out this weird matrix thing. More importantly, keeping the fact that it forced its way onto his spark and won’t come off-  a secret. (Not to mention he can’t afford to be distracted by bots he doesn’t entirely trust.)

But considering Commander Magnus and Medical Officer Ratchet have already been looking at him as if trying to remember something they’d once known- he might not be able to make that last.

…let's hope no one puts the pieces together on where he came from before he can figure out how to explain it.

Admittedly, this style has a different feel than the ones I'm accustomed to creating in- and trying to keep the characters to a consistent level of both simplistic and shapey is already proving to be a fun challenge. I’ve been working on this idea for a while, and I have a lot of other little details or broad stories to fill in. PLEASE I can talk and brainstorm about this all day. I've already got a google doc and MAD plotholes.

(Vorn = 83ish earth years, which I use interchangeably with an earth year for easier understanding, because of the long lifespans.)

[autisticshadowthehedgehog]

I'm just curious about this, but would you be down for Sega adapting the Metarex Arc into a new game and re-introducing Cosmo into the main cast? And if yes what would you like to see from said game?

DUDE I JUST KEEP SAYING I WANT THE METAREX ARC ACKNOWLEDGED AGAIN IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD MAN IT WAS SOOOOO GOOOOOOOD.

As for a game, maybe an RPG? It would have to be LONG, seeing as we're planet-hopping and we've gotta condense an entire season of TV into one game. It'd probably end up, like, Kingdom Hearts-long. Episode Shadow for the Molly episode.

Anyway the MAIN thing I would want to see from a game version is for the Dark Sonic scene. We have the initial setup as a cutscene, Cosmo and [insert whoever replaces Chris here. probably Tails] being captured and [^] bleeding out. Sonic's surrounded by fake chaos emeralds and Black Narcissus is blackmailing him with his friends into fighting these two robots that have been built based on data from all of Sonic's previous fights. They're gonna be a tough boss to beat and we all know it.

The cutscene "ends", with the little boss introduction text appearing underneath the bots. The animation style shifts, level's about to start, Black Narcissus gives a generic "start the level" line. Camera pans to Sonic, still on his knees and shaking.

Camera stalls. The player tries to move Sonic. They can't. Obviously they start to wonder if their game broke or something.

Then Sonic turns dark. Looks up at the camera. "So... you want me to fight?"

He shakes the camera as he darts through the air. When it spins around to see the robots, we've returned to pre-rendered animation. The music cuts out. We watch him decimate the bots, filling the room with smoke.

"Is this what you wanted to see?"

AKA: Dark Sonic literally breaks the game. He refuses to play the level, refuses this boss fight. He switches us back from gameplay to cutscene* and shows just how fucking powerful and terrifying he is.

*obviously the cutscene never ended, but it's meta

Then ofc after that we have Eggman come in and tell him to chill tf out. But I think that would be THEEEE most effective way to translate the Dark Sonic scene from TV to video game.

[wyrmarchives]

Main | Navigation | Writing | Send a Request

Knock Off

TF 141 x Reader

I know COD MW Reboot is set in 2019, but I had an idea…

Future themed, like 80 or more so years in the future (like 2100-2200) where science has progressed some, but not a lot…

Slight insinuation to omega-verse (John can “smell” reader, like twice); wasn’t sure if I wanted to go that way or not though🤔

Simple mission. It was supposed to be simple. Get in, kill, extract information, get out. Why can’t it ever be simple like planned?

John smelled you before he saw you; that’s what derailed the mission. Rifle at the low ready, his men ready to breach the door; deadly team ready for whatever they find… so they thought.

Nothing prepared them for the scene alike to a human butcher shop. A mad scientist’s wet dream… Human blood jarred in glass canisters, skin pinned to a display board and drawn on mapping out tests, charts upon charts of anatomical drawings etched with half coherent data and notes.

The further they walk in the room, the worse it gets. Rotting flesh singeing the noses from the dead bodies left abandoned on gurneys and morgue tables… then came the weird part…

The glass pods; most broken and bodies spilled across the glass dead. Seemingly accidentally killed in rushed transport considering the knocked over trollies.

There was one though, the one John sniffed out having caught wind of something… *Odd…* A single surviving competent pod, filled with an eerie blue glowing liquid suspending a body curled in fetal position in the center. The information screen attached to the pod is blacked out. Turned off or dead, one of the two. Body left for dead, suspended and abandoned.

His jaw sets at the disturbing sight; watching as muscles twitch from the unconscious form. Akin to how a babe might when in womb…

“Bloody hell…” Gaz breathes feeling sick to his stomach, staring at the pod beside John with horror.

“Computers don’t work.” Ghost informs as he pulls a hard-drive from a server tower. “Whatever *it’s*,” he glances at the pod, taking in the wires and tubes connected to the platform it sits on, “running on has to be connected to a backup generator or something.”

Soap simply grimaces at the sight as he looks around, keeping his rifle at low ready alongside the Lieutenant, “Well, wha’ever it runs off ‘f, we nee’ t’ get out ’f Dextor’s Laboratory, aye?”

“Aye, mate.” John finally turns, looking away from the pod, carefully stepping over the tangle of cords and tubes connected to the experiment.

Gaz isn’t as fortunate as he follows his Captain’s lead; foot tangling in the mess as he slams into the ground pulling tubes off their plugs. “Shite!” The liquid gushing out of the platform and sparking wires as the pod drains.

John snatches Gaz up by his uniform as the team scatters backwards away from the blue-tinted watery slime that pools.

That’s when the information screen lights up; rebooting with the spark of live wires. Static and binary code race across the screen before it displays a connection error and flashes the last know screen with a couple error filled lines. It’s enough to read though.

Experiment: 2212

Name (Records) : [Error]

Year Born: [Error]

Year Died: [Error]

Cloned (DD/MM/YY): [Error]/[Error]/[Error]

Then the glass cracks.

“Well… shit…” John flips his safety as he gives the order and drops knee, “Safeties off.” He takes aim when the person who is now laid on the bottom of the pod floor breathes, “Gaz, get us intel off that drive.”

Ghost passes Gaz the drive as he moves to position, second on the right in Echelon, Soap to the first right, while Gaz loops around behind and moves to the control panel and plugs in the drive into the now powered terminal.

It’s tense; and John’s nose still tickles with the sticky scent of earlier, even if accompanied by rancid the musk of stale- and questionably- water.

That’s when your head lifts, hazily and weakly looking at the four uniformed soldiers in confusion and disorientated anxieties.

“Bloody hell, Mother Mary and Christ…” Gaz breathes loud cutting the silence with awe and shock; his head snapping away from the computer screen and keyboard to glance between his war brothers and you.

He doesn’t even know how to explain the situation, but still, he speaks; “They Wolverined their arses.”

That was the best explanation he had for what he read on the drive.

Nerd.

C.Ai Disclaimer

Link to bot (omega-verse) | Other Bots

Tag List: @wickizer

[theneptuneflytrap]

Intro to thatoneguyyousawinthebackgroundofTF: ONE pt.4

ARCEE!!!!

Left: Arcee in TF: ONE Right: Arcee from Transformers Universe

For all the other intro's I started with the tech spec from their original generation one toy, unfortunately, Arcee didn't have a G1 toy. In fact, Arcee doesn't get a traditional transforming toy until 2014. To make up for this I'm going to include both her bio from the Transformers Universe (Marvel) and also her bio from Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye (Dreamwave, not to be confused w/ the IDW comic).

The following is from Transformers Universe:

Function: "Warrior"

Quote: "Looks are always deceiving"

Profile: "A sweet, kind, and loyal Autobot to her friends, Arcee is also a merciless, lethal warrior to her enemies. Arcee's intelligence, quick wit, and coolness under fire make her invaluable to the Autobot cause. The Decepticons constantly underrate her because, since to them she so closely resembles the female humans of Earth which the Decepticons have absolutely no respect for, they believe she is beneath their consideration. It is an attitude that arcee exploits with deadly efficiency. Arcee is very protective of the human, Danny Witwicky, son of Spike Witwicky, the long-time Earthling friend of the Autobots. In fact, sometimes Arcee is a bit overly protective of him and treats Danny almost like a fragile Ming vase since his skin is not composed of a supremely tough metal alloy like hers. Arcee is attracted to the Autobot, Hot Rod, who reciprocates the affection, But neither of them is willing to admit it openly. If one were to listen to the verbal pot-shots they take at each other, one would think that they were the bitterest of enemies. But catch one of the Autobots, or worse, Adecepticon. making a disparaging remark about Hot Rod in Arcee's presence and the offender will more often than not find his hydraulic hoses sliced to ribbons before he knows it".

Weakness: "Arcee's concern for Danny sometimes causes her to take excessive risks in order to protect him".

The following is from Transformers: More Than Meets The Eye, it's important to note that this came out in 2003 and is NOT a part of the Generation 1 cannon:

[From the data personal datatracks of Kup, earth date: 2003]

Bio: Arcee's different. In fact, other Autobots were at a loss to explain what exactly made Arcee so different until they turned to an old hand like me, who'd been off world before the wars. That's when I explained her resemblance to the females of other galactic species. Quick-witted and formidable in battle. Arcee's compassionate to her friends yet merciless to her foes. Her skill and ruthlessness in combat have made others wary, including Hot Rod. Still, the lad has developed a more-than-passing interest in Arcee, as has Springer. None of us have exactly figured out the reasons for all of this yet, but I seem to recall stories about there being more Transformers like her. Of course, that was crazy talk even when I was young".

Abilities: "Acree's an expert hand-to-hand warrior and sharpshooter. Her vehicle mode is equipped with several anti-personal weapons like shrapnel-launchers and tire spikes. In robot mode, she's got average strength, but she's fast.

Weaknesses: "Arcee doesn't have any physical weaknesses I've noticed".

[aislopinthewild]

This shit is clearly AI generated, as the guy running the program is a big time dumbass capitalist who thinks AI will somehow save us, but all it's been doing is eliminating jobs with poor replacements of art.

Let's break this "logo" (stretch of the term) down a bit.

First of all, this lumpy head, crooked mouthed, Disney-fied unknown dog breed is the mascot for "D.O.G.E.", because the org was named after the doge meme. Isn't that funny? No? Okay! He doesn't even look like a shiba inu, more like a corgi, or a pomeranian. Who knows if this is a failure of the AI generator, or bad "prompt-engineering" by idiots 🙄

THAT IS NOT DOGE

THIS IS DOGE.

For fuck's sake, you'd think the man-child meme-lord who had the stupid idea to do all this would even have the sense that an unsupervised 13 year old making a reaction meme for 4chan has to use even a similar dog that looked like the dog from the doge meme.

What I find most annoying about this is because this ultra-rich LOSER just totally ruined this meme that before he made this sham of government efficiency, still could be used as slang without people assuming you're a crypto bro who lost their life savings by shorting DogeCoin.

Just think, the amount of human consensus it takes to appreciate a single image, agree with the way it's used and find it funny enough, to reuse it, and continue the trend in how it's used for it to become a MEME.

Then think, how big of a LOSER you have to be to single handedly destroy the adoration people have for that meme so people not only hate the meme, but entirely forget about it and associate everything about it with the stupid thing you did with it? Good lord.

What about the rest??

Two flags! Two! Twice the America!!

The top one has poorly rendered parallel lines for the stripes which is typical of AI generators because it doesn't know how to "draw" something graphic that still has complex shape in space.

That goes for the details of the random gear containing the other flag, which if this was hand drawn, it was just be drawn poorly, which begs the question: which is better, to do something fast and wrong, or more thoroughly and correct? — Efficiency!!!

WTF is up with these stars? Don't even ask why they're not all star shaped, or even symmetrical, because they're AI generated, there is no answer to those questions! That's just what it spit out.

Don't even get me started on the godawful "typography", or lack thereof in this slop.

I won't go into every shitty pixel, but I'll stop at what would be glaringly bad work if done by a human. I guess since an LLM spit this out according to some giggling manchild loser's typed out prompt, that makes it acceptable because it's "technology", right? FOH

As for the "work" D.O.G.E. is actually doing, what TF are you doing with our personal confidential data that you stole, Elon? What are you planning on scamming us for next???

[qq-quartz]

How Fast Would The Twst Cast Eat A Subway Footlong

The Tierlist

The explanation

WHERE TF DID THE SANDWICH GO?????

It's Ruggie what did you expect?

It's Jade what did you expect?

It's Floyd what did you expect?

Now Coach Vargas reminds me of my dad: he asks for a small bite of your food before unhinging his jaw like a snake and devouring it whole

It's Grim what did you expect?

I'm pretty sure it's been confirmed that Sebek eats a lot plus crocodiles have big mouths he definitely inhales his food

Brother Took A Bite And Didn't Stop Until It Was Gone

To me Kalim seems like the type who'd just go at it when he eats something he likes, but it still takes him a bit to finish

That mf can EAT. Epel would be in the category of "Where tf did the sandwich go" if he wasn't afraid of vil finding out he ate so fast (don't eat to fast kids you'll get a tummy ache)

His once a month "actual meal". Idia's all about efficiency when it comes to eating so i don't see him eating subway often but when he does... OH BOY. (ortho got the subway for him btw)

Ace just gives me fast eater vibes

same with Deuce although he's a bit slower than ace

headcanon: Sam has to eat fast because theres always someone looking for him

Takes His Time

The few times Jamil has some peace and quiet is when he eats plus getting take out is a once in a lifetime opportunity for him

Rook will savor all his food in order to "fully appreciate the craftsmanship that went into this exquisite meal" -_-

Leona is a slow eater end of story

Trey savors his meals

Malleus "future king" Draconia was definitely taught manners (aka he's eating subway with a fork like a freak -_-)

Doesn't Finish It

getting subway was definitely not Azul's idea so he most likely only ate half (or maybe less) and gave the rest to the twins who fought over the piece like their lives depended on it

The oh so generous headmage Croweley's subway got stolen by a bird that was flying past(he cries about it for a week and tries to get the prefect to find the missing sandwich)

Cater put a bunch of toppings on his sandwich which made him full after a few bites (he'll eat the rest later/tomorrow tho)

Falls asleep while eating the sandwich

Thinks it's so delicious that he'll save it so he can put it in one of his recipes the next day

Doesn't Like Subway

Riddle doesn't eat fast food in general, even if it's just a sandwich pt. 1

crewel doesn't eat our peasant food/j

Vil doesn't eat fast food even though it's just a sandwich pt. 2

trein prefers making his own meals

Jack doesn't eat fast food even though it's just a sandwich pt. 3

Can't Eat Subway

lucius is a cat

ortho is a robot (although he does take pictures of idia's sandwich to file into his data or wtv)

:3

Authors note: This was inspired after I ate subway like my life depended on it

the first thoughts that came into my mind after i finished my meal:

[jades-typurriter]

Secure Connection

As promised: more Posie!! I wrote this one toward the end of last Spring after a couple of conversations with friends regarding the malleability of digital bodies (as well as still having Many Thoughts about the way code can give them new compulsions, after writing something about Annie and a new taur-shaped chassis for a friend's Patreon). Enjoy reading about her dealing with a corporate-mandated "hardware" update!

CW: Genital TF, this is another one that's As About Sex as it can possibly be without being about sex

Posie sat, sulking—steaming, even—in her office. It was a small side room off of the main floor of IT personnel, system engineers, and other technical employees of her corporation. Much like a central server, it was placed for easy access to the department-wide administrative assistant, and much like a server room, it was snug, windowless, and awash with the calming drone and relaxing warmth of an array of exhaust fans. Though she was free to project herself nearly anywhere on the company’s campus, this was where her consciousness was housed, and where she felt most at home. It was also the only place she could get any damn privacy, a luxury that she was deeply grateful for at present.

A newly-downloaded file weighed on the back of the Renamon’s mind. More literally, it was somewhere in the racks of drives that made up her long-term memory, to and from which mission-critical information was transferred in the course of doing business. Had somebody asked where exactly the file was stored, she would have been able to list the specific drive and the exact directory address, but she had de-prioritized the allocation of her processing resources for the download. Once again, she had received an assignment from her superiors, and once again, she was hesitant. She may even have admitted to being recalcitrant. She resented the orders.

The package of data in question was an update for her own software, a suite of new tools to allow management to offload yet more menial tasks onto her in the name of “efficiency”. Forget that she could diagnose a software issue faster than any of the engineers could even open a remote connection to the malfunctioning device. Instead of allowing her to take the reins, they saw fit to divert more of her attention to the least impressive among talents, and the one she already put to use the most often: transferring data.

This wouldn’t have been much of a problem, ordinarily. After all, Posie resided in the beating heart of the network, the nexus through which the vast majority of information was sent and received. It could be… meditative. Parsing streams of ones and zeroes, overseeing the flow of packets, redirecting traffic to equally spread the load across modems and routers so as to optimize travel time. It could even have been considered relaxing, if a worker of her caliber needed to relax. Instead of offering her a vacation (pah!), however, the update felt more like it heralded a demotion, denying her even the ability to pluck like harpstrings the miles of copper and gold that lined her facility. She was expected to deliver this data on foot.

Management justified this humiliation with practical concerns: some information, much like the old records she was often tasked to dispose of, was so confidential that it could not be sent via wireless transmission. Even hardwired connections were too fallible for the likes of next-generation schematics and financial access keys—a single compromised workstation, or compromised worker, could spell the loss of the company’s upper hand in its market. She wasn’t even going to be afforded the dignity of carrying an external hard drive to the destination. That would require the slow and tedious process of physically moving from one place to the next; this was one of the only times that she regretted the freedom of movement that was so coveted by her flesh-and-blood peers.

With no room to make exceptions for security protocol, she gripped the edge of her desk, brow furrowing, eyes squinted shut in consternation. Eventually, she huffed, rose, and turned her attention to her “physical body”, summoning up the file in much the same way that one would approach a plate of food with a pungent odor. The Renamon steeled herself and began to more closely examine its contents. She read the raw code similarly to how one might read words on a page; however, where the turning gears of the organic mind would, almost unconsciously, conjure up an image as a result of those words, her mind kicked off a series of involuntary, autonomic processes.

Her body carried out the instructions on her behalf. Once she started, she had no control until she finally reached a stopcode; it was the nature of being a program herself that code had as much of an influence on her mind and body as her own thoughts, her own will. In opening the package, she reluctantly consented to the changes that management saw fit to make to her. It was better than the eventual forced-deadline sort of update that software companies were so keen on using nowadays, and at least choosing the time and place allowed her to make herself presentable again before having to face another person.

Having parts of her code—her very body—rewritten by the update was a strange sensation, not unlike having your thoughts dictated to you by an outside force. Stranger still was that she could feel the exact delineation between her previous self and the patches of… well, the patch. She could feel it quite strongly, as a matter of fact: beneath her skirt of simulated sky-blue fur, between her legs, she could feel her mesh being edited. Stretched. Reshaped. The vectors that made up the triangles of her wireframe soul were being rewritten, mathematically transformed. A shape began to protrude from the once-flat span at the bottom of her torso, at first round and indistinct, but quickly increasing in resolution.

The Renamon struggled to process the sensations as a long, slender connector began to take shape. This often happened with changes to her body plan; inputs streamed into her mind from directions, locations, that previously never sent any signals, and the new additions seldom had their sensitivity adjusted downward for her convenience. In this case, it was highly sensitive, delivering reams of data to the base of her skull just from brushing up against her own fur, or the gentle flow of air from the computers in her office. It made sense, given that it was supposed to be a high-capacity transfer tool, but she was too busy buckling at the knees and clutching at the desk behind her so she didn’t fall flat on her rear for the thought to occur to her.

Her processors demanded more cooling, kicking into high gear as they formatted the two new storage devices that accompanied the connector, tailor-made for packing confidential data as tightly as possible. The sound of whirring fans filled the room, stirring her fur and sending shivers up and down her back; she could only hope that the rushing exhaust made enough noise to drown her out, whimpering despite herself. The new drives were larger (and more unwieldy) than the ones that were built into her chest, much to her chagrin. She was forced to adjust her stance and her gait as she found her footing again, spreading her legs wider than she was accustomed in order to give them enough room.

The spinning in her head slowly settling down, she slowly began to compose herself once again, taking stock of the new additions. They were cumbersome, to be sure, and she lamented how they jutted out from her otherwise sleek form and burdened her with less-graceful posture. It didn’t even match her fur! The software engineers that had concocted the code had at least included one small mercy: a compartment for the connector to retract into, nestled in the fur above the storage drives. No such luck for the drives themselves. She supposed she would just have to adjust to walking with delicate hardware in tow. As she went to smooth her fur over her lap again, her paw recoiled away. Some kind of… static discharge was left in the fluff. A memory leak, perhaps? The fact that such a malfunction could be caused just from having the connector brush up against her fur appalled her, deepening her frustration even more. They couldn’t even test the update for bugs before shipping it out to her. She shook out her paw and finished arranging her skirt as best she could before working up the composure to finally leave her office.

Picking up the payload for which all this fanfare had been arranged was at least a quick, easy process. She stopped into the office of the manager that had assigned her the task; she offered a businesslike nod and, knowing that she was always itching to skip niceties in the name of saving time, he offered a straightforward wave at his personal terminal. She held a paw over the computer tower and, in the time it took for electricity to arc to her fingertip with a tinny zzzrt, she had already searched his directory for the relevant test files and copied them to the newly-installed drives. Wireless transfer, yes, but only technically. The engineers had specifically asked a member of another division, whose computer network wasn’t connected to their own; it was as though she had picked a folder up from his desk and walked out with it.

Moving the file was just as uneventful. It was far from the first time that she’d navigated the sprawling corporate property, and even if it were, the maps existed just outside the orbit of her thoughts, ready to be summoned to mind at a simple impulse. What she was not expecting, however, was the technician who was waiting in the server room to which she was asked to deliver the file. While she preferred to work in the isolation of rooms that were set aside specifically for hardware, she was far from unused to being in the presence of the other people responsible for maintaining the company’s systems. That said…

“Can I help you?” The Renamon icily asked.

“Oh, I don’t need anything! I’m just here to take notes on the transfer.” Her tone was cheery; evidently, she wasn’t aware how compromising the new additions were. “The time it takes, any obvious issues. I’ll be the one checking the files against the originals, too,” she concluded, hooking a thumb over her shoulder at a monitor behind her.

“I see,” Posie replied through gritted teeth. “You have clearance to see these files, then?”

“Well, they’re just dummy data, ma’am.” At least she was respectful.

“And the proprietary hardware I’ve been… equipped with?” she forced out, keeping her synthesized voice even.

“Oh, for sure I do. I designed it!”

Oh! she seethed. So she knows pre-cise-ly the position he’s put me in.

“Well. I suppose there’s no point in delaying things, then.”

“Ready when you are!”

With tense shoulders, she turned toward the server rack, eyes darting over it, searching for where exactly she was supposed to connect to the array. After glancing over the contents of each drive, she found the one she was supposed to copy the data into—deposit would be more apt, as it was her understanding that the files would be automatically flushed from her system—and found a port that would allow her to access it. Conveniently, it was around waist height. She wondered, crossly, whether that had been an intentional design decision by this engineer as well. As she looked at it, she felt a twinge from the connector; on its own, like a Bluetooth device automatically searching for signals, it slid itself out from its fuzzy little compartment.

Her skin was abuzz, and her fur stood on end. She couldn’t quite tell if it was coming from the connector itself, or if it was the feeling of the programmer’s eyes on her If she could take a deep breath, she would have then. Without any way to stall further, or to tell the leering young woman to take her test files and store them somewhere indecent, she simply pushed forward with dropping off the damned data.

The instant the connector grazed the metal of the port, lightning shot into it, through her body, and into her head, making it swim with electrical potential. A stuttering, lagging thought made its way to the surface of her mind: they really had overtuned the sensitivity. She stifled a gasp and suppressed the urge to lay into the engineer (electrons were eager to flow out of her even without proper alignment with the contacts in the port, and didn’t she know that discharge like that could damage a piece of hardware?!), willing her body to keep pressing the stupid connector into the socket.

Even as she tried to get it over with already, something in the back of her mind compelled her to draw back a bit. If she had been restraining herself from reprimanding the engineer for risking the hardware, then she should at least do it the service of ensuring she was properly aligned, shouldn’t she? She obliged the impulse, and the motion all at once became much jerkier, less controlled. The friction of the port against her connector was enough to send her tail snapping back and forth, and she could tell that the temperature in her own server’s room had risen by a fair few degrees. Back and forth, wiggling side to side, she continued to readjust and realign herself, driven by unfamiliar code and overwhelmed by the signals pouring into her. She lost herself in the task, forgetting herself, forgetting her surroundings, until finally the technician cleared her throat.

“Ma’am,” she ventured, blushing and wide-eyed. “What, um. What are you doing? You should just need to plug it in.”

“I’m.” Her interruption had snapped the Renamon back to reality. She was mortified, tail sticking straight out and back ramrod straight. Her cheeks burned mercilessly. “I’m calibrating the connection.”

“Calibrating?”

“Did you want your files transferred with or without corrupted and incomplete data?” She snapped, hoping that her authoritative tone would head off any debate. “Assign me experimental hardware and then ask me to be reckless with it, hm? Should I be taking notes to give to our superiors?”

“I—alright, I guess you can’t be too careful,” she stammered, sheepishly pressing her legs together. “That was even something I tried to work into the design, so, c-carry on?”

“Thank you,” Posie blustered, turning back to the server rack. She did so slowly, reluctantly relishing the feeling of sliding around within the socket. She allowed herself one or two more “practice” attempts, hoping that it wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion from the engineer. Ultimately, just like before, there was no use in continuing to stall, and when she was able to bring her body to a stop, the rational part of herself was eager to be done with this entire torrid affair.

With more force, she pressed the connector inward one final time, trembling as the latch began to press against the opening. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she continued, overwhelmed by the volume of electricity surging into her. The latch gave, compressing as it continued to slide inside, until finally it clicked into place, securing her to the array of drives and finalizing the connection.

All at once, a torrent of data poured out of her, an electron tsunami that felt like it threatened to spill out of the socket in which she was hilted. More data was transferred in the span of a few seconds than she was used to consciously processing, having cultivated such skill in delegating and compartmentalizing with background processes. Once again, the world around her was utterly drowned out; the strength fled her legs, and she clung to the steel bar that reinforced the top of the server rack, threatening to topple the entire system. Her self-control abandoned her as well and, forgetting the engineer, she cried out with an airy, wild, distinctly foxlike yelp. She screamed in surprise, gasped at the deluge of information, moaned because there was no room left in her mind for thought to do anything else.

Quickly, the disks of the server rack had finished writing the files she had carried to them, and her own drives were thoroughly purged. In another building, the radiators serving her processors shed heat at their absolute limits, and fans worked overtime to bring her back within her safe operational range. As her overworked circuitry began to chug through the backlog of sensory information, the entire experience caught up with her—including the detail that this entire shameless display had been carried out in front of that underhanded little engineer. She blinked, hard, and whipped her head to face her. For as hot as her own ears felt, the young woman’s face appeared to be glowing even brighter.

“What. Was that.”

“Um—”

“I’m used to new adjustments requiring desensitization, or even adjustment on their gain,” she growled, voice low and eerily even. “But that was a bridge too far to just have been miscalibration. Why did you design it like that?”

“Well, y-you remember how I mentioned, um, having considered an early disconnection?” Posie’s frosty glare didn’t waver, so the tech continued, answering her own rhetorical question. “That was, uh, the safeguard. Against early disconnection. I, figured it’d just be easier to make it so you wouldn’t want to unplug—”

“Do you think you have the au-thor-ity to go making changes to my mind, young lady?!”

“I-I can roll back the update if you want—”

“I think you’ve done QUITE enough!” The Renamon declared, despite herself. Perhaps it was genuine distrust, or perhaps—perhaps she truly couldn’t tell which desires were her own, at the moment. This would require careful study of her own system files.

Another small click broke the silence following her outburst, and the dongle began to retract from the server’s port and back into Posie’s body. Now free to move around, she dusted and fluffed her skirt and leaned down to look the engineer in the eye.

“I trust that you can report to your supervisor that I performed to your expectations,” she hissed. “And that there will be no need for any further discussion of your little project.” The programmer nodded, eyes even wider than before—and cheeks even redder? The Renamon scoffed, sneered, and spun, storming out the door, already allotting time in her schedule for the next time that she would be called upon for such a delivery.

Utterly unsurprisingly, she had been correct in her assessment that her superiors would take every opportunity to save their organic employees’ time at her expense. Confidential deliveries became a regular part of her routine, and though she had great disdain for being reduced to a mere courier for so much of the workday, she insisted upon completing the task to her usual, lofty standards.

Posie was as prompt as she always was, dropping everything to ferry information between privileged parties, striving to reduce latency even in more analogue forms of communication. There was the occasional complaint about how long downloads took once she had finally arrived at her location, but she was quick to remind such impatient recipients that the decision to follow this protocol came from on-high, and that even for someone who worked as quickly as her, great care for the safety of the data was a corner that simply could not be cut in the name of rushing around.

She was as meticulous about ensuring proper alignment with the port, fine-tuning her contact with the wires within, as the first time she had experimented with the new tools, and complaints about noise from the server room were easily dismissed as the usual stress of supporting her formidable computational power. After all, she was often venturing out of the range of her home network, hosting herself entirely on the recipients’ systems; was she at fault when they couldn’t handle the information throughput they asked of her?

Once the deliveries had become more routine, and none of her peers bothered to check in when they felt it was taking too long or getting too noisy, she began to find enjoyment in the solitude of her work, just as with the other, admittedly more tedious, tasks she was expected to carry out. With fewer prying eyes to judge her performance, she could make herself more comfortable while handling transfers. She didn’t have to worry that anybody would walk in on her in the debased state she often found herself in while connected directly to a data center, leaning her full weight on the poor rack, tongue lolling out and chest heaving air to keep her cool. 

Then again, if somebody—especially that little technician who’d saddled her with these “upgrades”—wanted to question her efficacy, that was more than fine by her. Posie was a woman who prided herself in her work, and would seldom turn down a chance to demonstrate her first-rate hardware and unparalleled optimization. She would be more than happy to demonstrate just how quickly she could pump out information, and just how much throughput she was capable of.

Thank you for reading! If you want to see more of my work, you can check it out here and here!