#WHY DO I ALWAYS GET STUCK WITH THE TECH PROBLEMS NOBODY EVER FUCKING HAS

[spyglassrealms]

hey there! I got here via your dream post and stuck around to read your writing. The “realistic” sci fi worldbuilding is very cool - especially detailed explanations of how tech like FTL travel works! Have you considered running a homebrew campaign, or partnering with someone who writes character/plot driven fiction? I find that tends to generate a larger audience. Your character first-person writing has some interesting ideas! Quick tip - the overuse of commas chops up sentence flow and makes prose more difficult to read. Try editing to remove some!

Hey anon, I appreciate the ask and the compliments very much! Thanks for joining me here in my little corner of the web! I'm really glad you like my work; that makes me very happy to hear because I pour a lot of time and love into it!

...Buuut you've sort of hit a nerve here so I hope you're prepared for an essay response! I'm sorry in advance for how long this turned out to be and I hope this doesn't drive you off, eheh. Again, I do genuinely appreciate the feedback.

See, my default method of storytelling is speculative fiction: a concept or set of concepts is the center of the work, and almost all my characters are just cogs in the story machine. Sure, I have some characters I’m attached to, but the vast majority are just there because they have to be. They’re not the point of the story. Characters ARE important, but they rank lower to me than worldbuilding. When I generate story ideas, the characters are just temporary vehicles for the audience to connect with a concept I’m presenting.

And with that, we come to the problem that you've brought up which kicks me right in the ass every time: people always latch onto the characters, and don't give half as much of a damn about the setting. Yeah, I'm sensitive about that! Because I fall in love with technical details like planetary system structure and the mechanics of warp drives in much the same way as everyone else fixates on their "blorbos." That's why, when it comes to original work, you'll pretty much only find worldbuilding and writing posts on the blog –not to say I don't ever post anything about my OCs, but I can write whole essays about setting details and none of my OCs have that same depth.

And, anon? I'd like you to imagine how alienating that feels. I can't help but be upset when all of my friends are having fun making character playlists and talking about shipping while I'm sitting over in my corner with a twenty-page spreadsheet detailing the statistics of hundreds of stars and planets that nobody wants to read, because it's boring to everyone but me! I have tried to get involved, making characters for the hell of it to play in the same space as my friends. I wanna be excited about them, but they just don't hold my interest nearly as much. I can't change this, and it kinda fucking sucks sometimes!!!

Yes, sure, I could absolutely partner with someone who's better at characters and character-centric plot than I am! That's a good and practical suggestion! But you know what would happen? People would latch onto those characters and pay them much more attention than the setting they stem from, and I honestly don't think I could cope with that. I've tried this too, actually; I'm the one doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to the Midnight Sea lore. I love getting into the gullyworks, tinkering around and fitting all the pieces together, making the world tick like a well-constructed mechanism. I know my friends like that about me too! That feels good! I just wish I got more credit/attention for that in itself, rather than for what it enables. I'm the minority when it comes to fictional focus, and I just have to live with that.

Also, yes, I'm aware I have a tendency to use lots of commas. I'm very sorry it hinders you, but it actually helps me when I read things back and when I'm organizing my thoughts. I'm sorry but that's a stylistic choice I don't think I can shake, but I'll try to be mindful of my comma usage going forward. ^~^;

Let me reiterate just one more time that I genuinely appreciate your ask, and I hope you stick around! I'm glad you're here! I'm sorry this got a little venty and I hope this doesn't come off as defensive or rude. It's just that this is something I feel strongly about and I wanted to take the opportunity to be honest about one of my biggest and most persistent struggles.

[ultramantr1gger]

this game is sentient and fucking hates me it says all files verified now STILL crashes and then when i checked the files again it caused my computer to freeze completely. literally let me play

[tmntgirlie]

TMNT x Reader

Prompt: It seems that a brother of your S/O has a bone to pick with you

Leonardo’s S/O

You had been dating the Fearless leader for a few months now

As every relationship, you had your ups and downs with Leo, but it generally was a very smooth relationship

You found yourself taking after some of his mannerisms

It took a turn when you began treating his brothers not only like your brothers, but how Leonardo treated them as well

You were a little bossy

Leonardo found it endearing that you mimicked him in that way, but you saw how Donatello now looked at you

He started to ignore you when you walked into the room

It made you uneasy

You didn’t realize how when you talked to them, your tone started to change

When Mikey started calling you ‘Miss Mini Leonardo’, you got the hint

You had been taking it too far

You finally approached Donatello

He refused to look at you

“Look, I know you don’t like me. The least you can do is acknowledge that I exist”

Donnie was not having it

“You fail to realize how you’ve been treating us. You may be dating our brother, but you aren’t him. We don’t need another leader in the family”

His words stunned you

Sure, Mikey had called you a mini Leo, but it finally stuck

You sighed

“I’ve been getting ahead of myself”

“It’s normal to mimic your significant other’s mannerisms, but that doesn’t mean you treat us like he treats us when we’re on duty. Treat us like family. I’m sure Leo feels the same way”

You took his words to heart

In the coming weeks, you caught yourself sounding bossy in front of them

It happened a lot

It didn’t sound right for you to bark orders at them

You caught yourself mid-sentence sometimes, took a deep breath, and changed your tone

Even Leonardo noticed, giving you small glances and smiles as he saw you disciplining yourself

One day, Donatello approached you

“Thank you for listening to me”

All you wanted was for them to like you as much as Leo did

Well, maybe not that much

Raphael’s S/O

Dating Raphael was like a dream

He doted on you, was so affectionate, he truly treated you like his Queen

Well, in isolation at least

Outside of the bedroom, he was mainly possessive of you, wouldn’t let you out of his sight

You noticed Mikey look at the two of you often

He never smiled when he did

You just figured he was jealous, wanted somebody for himself

One day, you finally asked Raph what Mikey’s deal was

He never talked to you

“He thinks you’re taking me away from him”

You take Raph away from Mikey?

You didn’t quite know what to say

After all, Mikey had spent all of his years with Raph

They grew up together, for Gods’ sake

You’ve only been in their lives for a couple months, tops

When you approached Mikey, he tried to act nonchalant about it

“What? I’m not looking at you guys or anything”

Lying through his teeth

But you were stubborn, and you didn’t back down

He finally admitted it

“I like you alright, Y/N, but I feel like you’re changing Raph”

“I’m changing him?”

“He never just wants to play videogames with me anymore or go boarding. He just wants to spend time with you”

As he continued to speak, you could sense something different in his voice

Mikey was scared he’d never have his brother again

Did you really change Raphael that much?

You didn’t know what to say to him, so you just nodded and ran back to Raph’s room

It was basically your room as well now

When you explained to him what Mikey said, you had to hold him back from charging out to talk to Mikey

“Don’t make it worse, please”

“Baby, he thinks you’re changing me. Does he really think you have that much power over me?”

You gave him a look

Yeah, you did have that kind of power over him

Maybe it wasn’t such a good thing

He sighed

“You’re right. Whatever. I guess I have been spending more time with you than with my brothers recently”

That started a conversation on what you and him could do differently

You had basically moved in at that point, so there wasn’t a time where you weren’t glued to his side

You both decided that he needed to detach himself a little from you to spend more time with his brothers

They were his brothers, after all

You respected the fact that in reality, you were just a girlfriend

They were brothers for life

Plus, there were some things you could do for him that his brothers absolutely couldn’t

Donatello’s S/O

Not a day went by that Donatello didn’t pull you into his lab to show you something new he had made

Sure, most of the things weren’t completely groundbreaking, but he usually made them for you

And you absolutely loved them

Oh, the thought that went into these things that he made for you

One day while Don was showing you this new feature he added on your phone, Leo stormed in

He was not a happy camper

He began questioning why Donnie was wasting his time making things for you when he could be doing so much more for his brothers

They had needs for new things, too

Leonardo was used to Donnie reporting everything to him, making things at his request

Now, he was constantly either with you or making something he thought you’d like

Donatello instantly got defensive, saying that everything he made for you, he made some other version for his brothers

He wasn’t picking favorites

But Leonardo was not having it

No, in his mind, brothers needed to come first

Brothers needed the most up-to-date tech and gear for the benefit of the family and New York City’s safety

Yeah, he went there

Brought up the whole safety of the city thing

You didn’t have a single word to say

You had never asked Donnie to make something only for you and not his brothers

Donnie was right- when he made something for you, he made stuff for his brothers as well

Now, we won’t get into the quality of the items

He did sometimes give you the best version over his brothers

That was Leonardo’s problem

The conversation ended with you leaving in tears

Leonardo and Donatello remaining in the lab, death glares flying all over the place

“I’ll create what I please. You may be our leader, but you’re my brother first. Respect my priorities. Just because I love her doesn’t mean I love any of you less”

He had never admitted out loud that he loved you before

Now Leonardo was at a loss for words

He had no idea you guys were in love

In his brain, he somehow thought… Something else

He really thought that you were somehow taking advantage of Donatello and his knack for tech and science

As Donatello continued, Leo caught that that was not the case

You finally came out of your room, eyes still a bit pink and puffy from crying

You really did not like yelling

Leonardo found you and started showering you in apologies

Man, could that turtle apologize

Better than YouTubers really

You accepted his apology, but sternly stated that his tone from earlier was not welcome in your ears

Leonardo nodded

“I think Don is looking for you. Don’t distract him too much”

It was a joke spoken too soon, but you let it go

You knew Donnie could make it better

Michelangelo’s S/O

Dating Michelangelo was like a nonstop party

He was always up for anything you wanted to do

A Marvel movie marathon?

Hell yeah

Playing Mario Kart until you could barely see straight?

Obviously

In the mood to be smothered in love and affection?

Mikey was your guy

You couldn’t think of a time in your life when you felt happier

Every day with Mikey was your new favorite day

A couple weeks into your relationship with the youngest turtle, you noticed one of his brothers scoff when you suggested a new activity for the two of you to try

You tried not to let it get to you, but as the weeks went on, it happened more often

Raphael, it seemed, had a bone to pick with you

At first, you thought it was the fact that you kept Mikey busy playing games with you or trying new recipes

When you offered Raphael a controller to play along, he always said no

Maybe it was just you, but it seemed like Raph flat out didn’t like you

Now, you weren’t the most confrontational person

But this was the best relationship you’d ever had, and damn it, nobody was going to ruin it for you

One day you had offered Raph the controller to play along with you and Mikey

When he said no, as expected, you huffed

“What is your problem with me?”

That was not the right thing to say

Oh, not at all

Raphael absolutely exploded on you

Rambling on about how you were a huge distraction for Mikey, how he was less motivated to train, all he ever wanted to do was spend time with you

Wasting his time with you

You could feel something in the pit of your stomach

You swore you weren’t going to cry

You were surprised when Mikey stood up for you instantly

“What are you talking about, bro? Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me! Why can’t you just let me be happy for once?”

Raph didn’t say anything

“Our whole lives has been training, staying secluded, staying in the sewers with nobody to talk to but ourselves. Fuck me since now I finally found someone that not only accepts me, but wants to spend time with me and loves me for me”

You hadn’t yet said that you loved him yet, but it was pretty obvious

“Be happy that I found someone to put up with me, bro”

Mikey pulled you closer to him, eyeing his brother in a way you didn’t think was possible for the youngest turtle

Was this his defensive side?

Oh, you liked that

Raphael clicked his tongue

“I guess. Good for you, Mike, finding someone to put up with you that also beats you in Mario Kart”

Mikey scoffed

“She’s just that good. She’d beat you, too!”

Raphael wasn’t having that

He snatched the third player controller and gestured at you to start the race

It definitely took you by surprise, but it really shouldn’t have

These guys were passionate, they were all each other had

You hoped Raphael wouldn’t hold your relationship with his brother against you any longer

[vegalocity]

In your Oblivion fic, do you think red son would have some ptsd of what happened with Porty clone? Like he still trying to return to his old life but has flashes to what Porty clone did to him or it could also be like he tries to attack MK in another evil scheme but he can't bring himself to hurt his beloved Xiaotian, ooooor i read somewhere that red son would have trouble talking about what happened and would lie unconsciously about what Porty clone did to him

ooohhhhh Afterstory trauma i love thinking about afterstory trauma!

(funny how I got this right after i finished up that art there -x files theme-)

TW: discussing addiction

Okay so Yeah Red Son is totally walking out of this with some new nightmares thats for sure, If we assume the ‘fixing’ process was done in more of an ‘addressing the magic elements enabling this’ way, thus enabling more of a ‘snap out of it’ sort of fix, he would definitely WANT to return back to Business as Usual, but find himself unable to

But I think what would really bother him isn’t in the classical PTSD way like fashbacks and stuff, so much as it would be really leaning onto the addiction aspect of this whole thing. Cuz like, Red Son didn’t really have any coping mechanisms to deal with stress before all of this, that mental state, no matter how unhealthy and messed up it was, had been a releif from constant pressure, that was part of the reason why he fall into it so easily. And I could imagine that THAT’S the hardest thing to get rid of. That if he’s working on a project or pounding through a thesis and it’s just.. a LOT. If he’s just really highstrung and stressed over it-

-he might find himself still wanting it. Fantasizing about the darkened club with the neon lights and how he’d feel when the music played, how there was no space in his head for stress and anxiety...what would be the harm in testing out if that old trigger still worked? He could just lock the door and set an alarm like he used to and take just a liiiittle hit-

The words are on the very tip of his tongue and his fingers are positioned in a snapping motion when he catches himself. It’s bad enough having his autonomy forcibly taken away, but the fact that he’d been convinced that he wanted it was the part that wasn’t shaking so easily, because he still doesn’t HAVE a healthier way to deal with stress, so he’s stuck constantly disgusted with himself for still wanting the only relief he’d ever had from it.

I think he might not be able to trust that he was ‘fixed’ as it were, with that lingering desire as proof.

Sure he’ll provide tech for his parents schemes but lowkey plead to not have to go out into the field for actual missions. Not until he can trust that he’ll be okay, that he WON’T immediately fall back into that mindset the second he sees Xiaotian the Noodle Boy and fall to his beck and call. Though then the worry comes if he’s being too obedient to his parents too, was he always like that? He'd always wanted their approval sure, but he would also be fine with acting alone, didn’t he? Did- Did he really always want their approval or did he not care as much but he’d been convinced he did to make it easier for him to fall into line? Did he ever actually have feelings for Xiaotian The Noodle Boy or was THAT a lie too to let the clone sink his claws into him easier? How would he know? how COULD he know? Should he treat any desire to please someone else as a red flag? Should he be acting more rebellious just to make sure?

And maybe that part of him that still longs for the peace oblivion would give him whispers that it would be so much easier if he still had someone who could just TELL him what to think about all of this, no matter how little sense that made in the context of the problem itself.

He doesn’t show up for battles for AWHILE. And the first time he does he doesn’t even fight, just lingers in the shadows, so if there ARE some lingering effects at least nobody will see him struggle with them. I don’t think he actually REMEMBERS a lot of what happened granted how much Porty Clone was fucking with his memory, or if he does it doesn’t completely feel REAL, like the memory of a dream, but the first time he claps eyes on Xiaotian after all of this is when it all properly snaps into focus, and he finds himself caught between three very extreme reactions, rage, fear, and unsettlingly, longing. He- he wanted to hurt the damn Noodle Boy for all he’d put him through intentional or not, no he wanted to run to turn heel and get the fuck out of there before anything could go wrong, No he wanted to- To....

No that’s the bad one, that’s the one that wasn’t his. Xiaotian’s eyes flick to the side and unintentionally meets his gaze, and for a moment the longing almost wins anyway because he remembers, he remembers clumsily trying to seduce him on that disgusting lumpy couch and his warmth and his scent and- He chooses fear and runs.

He doesn’t go back out into the field for a long while if he can help it.

Ideally his parents did find out about all of this beforehand so they’d probably be understanding and leave him to work things out on his own.

..

...

though if a bitch wants some extra fucked upery i wouldn’t put it past at least Iron Fan to try and see if there’s anything that... lingered... that they could use, like imagine how fucked up it would be if Red just feels like he’s in the zone while tinkering and is maybe excited that that means he’s deriving joy from his work again and that HAS to mean he’s really on the mend only to accidentally evesdrop on a rare yet INTENSE argument between his parents...and finds out his mother’s been using his more fragile mental state and possibly making him WORSE because ‘he’s more efficient like this, doesn’t talk back near as much’

Well he’s certainly gonna be talking back NOW-

If we go That way then Red Son hits a proper rebellious phase, actively fighting off any upset he has over disappointing his parents because clearly that’s not him. he has to not actually care, he HAS to, feeling physically sick at the idea of them looking at him with disappointment is just another thing the clone DID to him. He’s fine. He HAS to be fine.

And he should probably look into doing something different with his time because he is NOT helping with any schemes if he can’t find it in him to even FACE their enemies, AND his mother has been messing with his head while he’s at home when he’s running support staff.

Possibly even moving out for awhile because oh geez he doesn’t feel safe in his own home anymore.

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Nothing’s Normal | Cliff Steele x Reader (Request)

Request:  Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Bruce wayne and a meta and in a relationship with cliff Steele please and thank you

A/N: @rachelcarroll1819 Sorry it took me a while to get to this request because life and I keep forgetting to post it, so here it is. I know it’s supposed to be a simple imagine, but I got carried away because I love writing the dynamics between the Doom Patrol members. I hope this is what you asked for.

Warning: Doom Patrol-typical swearing, usual Doom Patrol shenanigans, some angst?, some fluff

Words: 3211 (lol idk what happened)

-

It had been almost a year since your adoptive father, Bruce Wayne, had sent you to regularly check up on Vic and the others at Doom Manor. He was made aware of this new team of metahumans through the young Cyborg and as Batman’s assistant, you were assigned to keep tabs on all of the Justice League members in case of emergencies.

One rule that he made sure you understood was that you’d go when Niles Caulder wasn’t around. You heard about that doctor and his work with the Bureau of Normalcy. Your father heard about them during one of his investigations into a series of missing persons cases, all showing signs of possessing some kind of power. Being aware of your own powers, you agreed with your father to stay away. That doesn’t mean you had to stay away with the Doom Patrol members, though.

You wiped your forehead as you finished fixing up their black painted bus. The team currently had the budget of a public high school in an expensive city, so there wasn’t much good material to work with, so you made as much adjustments as you could while giving room for some upgrades.

“Not exactly the Magic School Bus,” Cliff said, handing you a cloth to wipe your hands with.

“Well, Vic could always get some of that good juicy tech stuff from home so we could turn it into the Magic School Bus,” you said, raising an eyebrow at Cyborg.

Vic shrugged, stepping back to look at the small bus. “I think it looks fine. Maybe you could actually do more if you take off those gloves.”

You purse your lips and say nothing. He still doesn’t know the reason why you wore those gloves and you try your best to keep like that for as long as you could.

Rita walked over with Larry, placing her hands on her hips and sighed. “Are we looking at the same thing? It looks so dreary and… and… shabby,” she said.

“Hey, what’s wrong with my paint job, man?” Jane snapped.

Rita ignored her. “No one’s going to take us seriously as an actual superhero team.”

“No one takes us seriously anyways,” Larry pointed out.

“Yeah, but think of what (Y/n) could do with that cool tech, Vic,” Cliff exclaimed, grabbing Vic’s shoulder, “She worked on the fuckin’ Batmobile! I think after saving two towns and the world from the apocalypse, we deserve a Doom Mobile.”

Vic was slowly being swayed, agreeing that the team should have some kind of advanced mode of transportation instead of relying on Flit to emerge and teleport them to their destination. Vic rubbed his chin, then nodded.

“Yeah, I could try and-” He looked up to address you and Cliff when he realized that the two of you vanished, “Where did they go?”

They all shrugged.

“It’s not like they can fuck,” Jane said bluntly.

“Jane,” Rita scolded her. Jane rolled her eyes and made her way back to the manor. Rita looked over at Larry who shrugged.

“As long as they’re not getting into trouble, it’s none of our business,” he said before walking to his greenhouse.

Rita pouted, standing with only Vic to talk to. “I just want to know what my dear friends are up to, don’t you? Cliff seemed so… happy lately, hasn’t he?”

Vic nodded. “Yeah… you don’t think that Cliff… and… (Y/n)?” He frowned just thinking about it. How would that work?

Rita hummed. “Maybe we should… check if everything’s okay,” she said lamely.

“Yeah, maybe,” Vic said, getting curious. He knew you ever since he joined the Justice League and you didn’t seem the type to be in a relationship. Surely, you and Cliff were just friends.

-

“You think we could get the bus to go that fast?” you asked Cliff, nodding over to the TV in the corner of the Robotman’s room, playing a recording of an old NASCAR race. You leaned over the sketches of upgrades you’ve been meaning to add once you get the right tools and materials, your gloves tossed to the side.

“I mean the air resistance will be something that we have to compensate for,” Cliff said, “Race cars are slim as fuck, which is why they can flip the fuck out when we crash into each other.”

You wrote some notes down, then looked up at Cliff. “Why did you choose to be a racecar driver?”

Cliff shrugged. “I liked driving. I liked the rush. I liked the crowd. And I was really fuckin’ good at it, so I liked the winning, too.”

“At least you didn’t become an actor,” you teased, “Though you’d surely win a Raspberry award.”

“Hey!”

Cliff reached out to grab you on your sides. You shrieked, feeling the tips of his metal fingers nearing the most ticklish part of your body before you ran away. He chased you around the room, making you laugh as he bumped into the furniture when you’d dodge.

You ran out of breath from running and laughing too much, pausing for a moment, giving Cliff enough time to grab you. You huffed a laugh, gripping his metal arms and relishing in the cold touch as he carried you over to the couch and plopped you down.

Cliff was one of the very few people that you could touch without any gloves or clothing in the way. It wasn’t like skin, but at least you didn’t have to worry about your powers affecting him.

He looked down at you and sighed before sitting down. He held your hands and ran a metal thumb over them, having similar thoughts running through his head.

“I wish I could fuckin’ feel this,” he muttered, “You deserve someone who’s normal. Someone that can feel your skin, feel how soft your hair is, be able to kiss you, pop a fuckin’ boner. When you hug me, it’s just all bulky metal for you, and I can’t even feel how warm you are.”

You leaned against him and also sighed. “I could… I heard they’re developing these synths, they call it. Robots that look like humans with realistic hair, skin, everything. I could try and maybe look into it, if you want. If you’re comfortable with it,” you offered.

“What if it doesn’t work? Then you’re stuck with this,” Cliff gestured to his body.

You shook your head. “I just want you to be happy and I know how hard it is to not be able to touch anything. We can keep trying to find other ways, Cliff.”

“Even if I had my human body, just me, I still think you deserve better. I… I was a horrible person. I was a bad husband and a bad father. I’m learning from that and I feel myself getting better, but what if I relapse?”

There were so many things you wanted to tell him, that him having his human body back won’t change the fact that you still won’t be able to touch him, but you knew how hard it was for him to come to terms that all those human traits he had were gone. Everything except his brain.

“Your friends and I won’t let that happen to you,” you said firmly.

You ended up sleeping on Cliff’s lap after talking for a couple more hours. He carefully ran his metal fingers through your hair, mentally cursing when your hair almost got stuck in one of the joints. He slowly lifted you up and carried you over to one of the guest rooms next to his, setting you down on the bed and covered you with the duvet. He had the urge to kiss your forehead, but knew he couldn’t. When he turned to leave, Rita and Vic were standing there with knowing smirks. Cliff wanted to roll his eyes as he pushed past them.

-

“How long are you going to be gone this time?” Cliff whined as you packed up your duffel bag.

“Not sure,” you said, “but they said it was urgent, so Vic and I are both needed.”

“Can’t we come with you, go sightseeing around Gotham?” he asked, following you out of the room.

You snorted. “Not much to see around Gotham, unless you’re looking for criminal activities and corrupted cops.”

“Yeah, and Batman.”

“And dangerous criminals.”

“We defeated Mr. Nobody! We stopped the apocalypse!”

You sighed, stopping at the manor’s entrance. “Cliff, maybe next time. Right now I have to focus on the mission.”

“You ready?” Vic called out from the small plane that your father sent you.

You nodded, picking up your duffel bag. “I’ll call you,” you assured him.

Cliff nodded, his shoulders slumping. You beckoned for him to lean down and you pressed your forehead against his metal head, closing your eyes for a brief moment before pulling away. The chauffeur grabbed the bag from you as you climbed into the plane.

“So… why Cliff Steele?” Vic suddenly asked.

“How-”

“Rita and I saw you two.”

You leaned back in your seat and shrugged. “He makes me laugh.”

Vic nodded. “Fair enough, I guess.”

The two of you fell in silence for a moment. You picked at your gloves, before looking up at Vic. “But please don’t mention this to anyone, at all,” you pleaded, “No one has to know.”

“Alright, no problem, (Y/n/n).”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the flight was silent, with the both of you trying to get in touch with your respective fathers. Your father was reluctant to bring you into the mission, but your expertise and powers were needed for them to solve their investigation. You hated your powers and your father knew it, which is why he tried his best to avoid the situation from reaching that point, leaving you as the last resort.

“Half an hour until landing, miss Wayne,” one of the pilots announced.

“Thank you,” you called out, grabbing your duffel bag to change in the bathroom.

-

Cliff played with his mini racetrack for the hundredth time after standing around outside watching Jane paint and hanging around Larry in his greenhouse to understand why he loved watering plants so much. He tossed the remote control onto the couch and sighed. What is it that you do that you were needed on the mission? Every time he asked, you would shrug it off and say that you were a glorified secretary for the Justice League. Do they need paperwork to be filled out or some shit?

“And why are you telling me this?” Rita sighed as she brushed her hair in front of her large mirror, Cliff sitting on the floor behind her after unloading his thoughts onto her.

“You were the one that wanted to know about our relationship!” Cliff shouted.

“Okay, okay. Calm down, Cliff.” She set her brush down and turned in her seat. “So what is it that you want?”

“Uhhh.” Cliff tilted his head. “I feel like she’s hiding something from me.”

“Did you ask her?”

“What the fuck is she going to say? Yes, Cliff, I am hiding something from you. What is she going to say next, it was for my own good?”

“Cliff, we’ve known (Y/n) for a year. She doesn’t owe us everything about her life. I’m sure she has her reasons. She works for the Justice League for crying out loud. There’s a level of secrecy that she must have to keep as part of the job.”

Cliff groaned. “So we just wait, then?”

Rita gave a firm nod. “We will just wait.”

They sat there in silence. Cliff blinked, staring at the ceiling, then back at Rita. She shifted around in her seat, then cleared her throat.

“I never thought I’d be… itching to go and save the world,” she began, “I wonder what it’s like for the Justice League.”

“Don’t they usually battle some otherworldly being or each other?”

“I know, but I’m sure there was never a time where they were… self-conscious about going out there. They don’t have powers like we do, if you could call it that, where even the slightest of our emotions changing would affect us badly.”

Cliff waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m sure it’s the same for them, just in fancy costumes.”

Rita sighed, then nodded in resolution. “You know, Cliff, you’re right. Maybe we could-”

“Who the fuck are you?!” They suddenly heard Jane shout, followed by a loud crash.

“Where’s Niles Caulder?” A deep male voice bellowed.

Cliff and Rita exchanged a look before rushing out of the room towards the entrance. Rita’s eyes widened as she saw Batman storming through the door, pushing past Hammerhead, with (Y/n) trying to stop your father while Superman was trying to calm Hammerhead down.

“What the hell is going on here?” Larry jogged over as Vic rushed in towards the group. “Vic, what’s going on?”

Vic let out a frustrated sigh, glancing back at Batman, before turning back to his friends. “Our mission uncovered some things linked to Niles and not in a nice way,” he said, not sure how much of the classified mission he was allowed to share with the people who were also victims and complicated friends of said Niles Caulder.

“And why are they here?” Rita pressed.

“Let go of me, you fuckin’ Ken doll in stupid ugly overcompensating tights!” Hammerhead growled as Superman wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from pouncing on him or Batman.

“Where’s Niles Caulder?” Batman demanded, glaring at the group.

Larry looked at the others, not sure what to say. Rita shook her head while Cliff nodded. (Y/n) stood in front of him and growled in frustration.

“Not until you calm down!” you snapped.

“He did this to you,” your father hissed.

“He did it to all of us,” you said, gesturing to the group, “With reason. There’s no excusing the shit he did, but you have to hear everything out before you carry out your justice. You've taught me this before. Now. Sit. Down.”

He clenched his jaw, looking back at Superman, who disappeared. “Where did they go?”

They heard an explosion from the front yard, followed by Superman’s voice. You all looked at each other and groaned, “Oh, no.”

Cliff was the first one out the door, already approaching Flaming Katy. You rushed forward, but Vic held you back.

“Cliff’s done this before,” Larry assured you.

“Come on, Jane. They’re not worth it. Think about it, they’re here for Niles. Think they’d smack him around, just a little, after what he’s done?” Cliff called out to the flaming figure. “Baby Doll, I can make those peanut butter jelly sandwiches you like, without the crust and everything. I’ll even watch those shitty nineties rom-coms with you, Karen.”

The figure slowly lowered, the flames gradually extinguishing until Jane emerged again. She glared at Superman, then at Cliff.

“Fuckin’ prick,” Jane muttered, not aiming it to anyone in particular,  stomping back into the manor.

Cliff turned back to the others and gave a thumbs up. You sighed in relief, urging everyone to go back inside. As they filed back into the large living room, you lingered by the door until you and Cliff were the only ones in the parlor.

“Sorry about this,” you muttered.

Cliff shrugged. “Meh, I was actually talking about you anyways.” You raised an eyebrow, silently asking about what. Cliff shrugged again. “I just missed you.”

You gave a small smile. “I missed you, too.” You took off one glove and pressed your hand against his metal arm, letting the coolness seep into your skin.

You opened your mouth to speak, when you heard a familiar coughing. You pulled away, your cheeks heating up. Your father narrowed his eyes at Cliff before jerking his head over to the living room where everyone was sitting. You pressed your lips into a thin line and followed him in, Cliff trailing behind you.

Once everyone was seated, Rita cleared her throat. “So, let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” she said, taking charge in leading the conversation. “So, what was it that caused you to seek Niles Caulder out?”

Your father was still fuming in his seat, so Clark decided to speak. “We were following a trail of missing persons cases and stumbled upon an underground facility. The missing persons were subjected to countless experiments and many didn’t make it. From the files we found in their database, it was all initially headed by a Doctor Niles Caulder. The first few experiments had actually been cancelled, but a team continued to do so without his knowledge,” he said.

Everyone stared at him, entranced by his handsome face and his smooth voice. Clark looked around and frowned, wondering why they were looking at him weird.

“I’m sorry I tried to punch your sharp jaw,” Jane muttered.

“You would have been cut from it,” Larry told her.

Rita waved a hand to dismiss them. “You,” she pointed at your father, “Batman...  person, you said that Niles did this to (Y/n)? Our (Y/n)?”

You sighed. “I was a part of the initial trials until my- until Batman saved me,” you said.

“What did they do to you?” Larry asked.

You hesitated, looking around the room. You spotted a dying flower, a plant that Larry had given Cliff to practice taking care of. You carried it over and set the small pot on the coffee table. Your palms were sweaty as they hovered over the wilting petals before you slowly lowered your finger. With a single touch on a petal, the flower was slowly revived, all color flooding back to its vibrant petals.

“That’s pretty cool,” Cliff said.

You shook your head, touching the petal again. The life from the flower slowly drained away until it was curled up and dry.

“Oh.”

“I can bring a living being back to life with a single touch, but… touch them again and they’re dead. Forever,” you said. “I wasn’t sure how long I’ve been in that lab. Some of the early records were gone by the time I was rescued, but if the aim is similar to what he’s done to all of you… I may be older than I look.”

“Well, I’m glad that our age difference isn’t weird anymore,” Cliff commented. You gave him an exasperated look until you remembered that you were sitting next to your father, making you freeze. The rest of the Doom Patrol members turned to Cliff and glared at him. “What? You guys were dying to know, and now that we’re talking about it… I’m just saying, people should stop thinking our relationship is extremely weird-”

“You’re still a robot, Cliff,” Larry reminded.

“So this is Cliff?” Clark asked you, ignoring the bickering.

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Wait, you knew?” Your father turned to Clark. You closed your eyes and sighed.

“Well, it came up in a conversation…,” Clark tried to defend.

“Don’t you think I have the right to know who my daughter’s involved with?” Your father hissed.

“Wait a fuckin’ minute!” Cliff said, looking at you, then back at Batman, who was still in costume, then back at you. “What the fuck? Daughter? (Y/n)... What the fuck?”

[birlcholtz]

Okay, I'll bite. How and why did you learn to code?

HI LIN thanks for biting this is a story that tells you quite a lot about me as a person

so some background: my parents are both in compsci. they're the late 80s, early 90s silicon valley crowd, they've both had their fair share of established companies and startup-hopping, and my brother and i grew up here

my brother is about 5 years older than me and took to coding like a fish to water (like a duck to water??) which is to say he started programming on scratch at the tender age of.... i don't even know, honestly, maybe 9? too young for me to really remember, and he's been a compsci prodigy ever since

but then. then there was me.

now i do love scratch. when i was little i always copied my brother (not in like a cute way, in a 'if he can do that i can do it too' mindset that meant my third grade teacher REALLY struggled to find book recommendations for me that i hadn't already read. since my brother was above his grade's reading level, and i would read whatever my brother read. yeah that's the kind of kid i was/am)

so naturally i did what he did. i programmed on scratch, i did advanced math courses, i was in CHESS CLUB (i am so bad at chess by the way. i am not good at it. let's establish that. i think i beat my dad once and i genuinely don't know if he let me win or not. i never beat my brother so in that respect i failed. but i'm better than my mom so there's that)

HOWEVER. around fourth or fifth grade i was like hey. maybe i want to like... forge my own identity. and not just turn my life into 'do whatever elder brother does BUT BETTER.'

and thus began my campaign to NEVER DO ANY CODING EVER FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND WHILE I'M AT IT FUCK MATH

this gets long so there’s more under the cut sjflsghf

there are two problems with this. the first problem is my inherent pride and the fact that, despite my best efforts, i am actually decent at math and too proud to intentionally fuck it up. so i wound up in honors math. that made part 2 of my independence campaign a little difficult.

the second problem is that my parents were just as determined for me to learn to code as i was to avoid anything to do with coding for the rest of my life

(the third problem was actually a serious problem for this goal. and that was that in seventh grade, when i had a required compsci class where we learned basic, i found myself... enjoying it. HORROR OF HORRORS.)

so i was quite vocal about my anti-math stance and my determination to explore other avenues of life, to which my parents responded by listening with bat-ears whenever i talked about my compsci class and/or my love of spreadsheets so that they could jump on it and say 'YOU KNOW, COMPUTER PROGRAMMING IS JUST LIKE THAT, I THINK YOU WOULD REALLY ENJOY IT' whenever i said something remotely applicable

and to which i responded, of course, by plunging ever deeper into performing arts because fuck compsci, except when it's basic, because then i understand everything because of messing around w scratch when i was little and it's easy and i'm ahead of the rest of the class and can stare into space while the rest of them struggle with closing their parentheses (which is not to say i never messed up my parentheses. i totally did)

now, my brother, because he's a nerd, went to compsci summer camps where you'd spend a week or two learning some program or language. he did things like java and c++ and then would come home and use this knowledge for robotics club. like i said. nerd.

but my parents sensed a golden opportunity. namely, 'if we can get birl to go to these camps, she will actually learn programming things (not just being ahead of the class and spacing out in basic), and we'll probably get her to agree since it's only a week and she can do cost benefit analysis'

and, because i CAN do cost benefit analysis, i agreed to that deal. i'd go to a few of these camps, and then we'd agree that i was done with my parentally mandated computer science requirement. i learned some 3-d modeling, i learned to use unity (which involved some c+ as well), and i learned some java, and all was well. the camps were like 5 days long. we mostly worked on self-directed projects so i could do whatever the hell i wanted (and i made some pretty cool maze games if i do say so myself-- one of them in unity and one of them as a text-based game in java)

and.... horror of horrors....... i didn't hate it.

(of course i didn't want to go BACK any more than i had to but i also didn't hate every moment of those weeks)

so we were out of the woods right?

except no. we weren't.

because here's the thing. my high school ALSO had a computer science requirement. we had to take at least a semester. there were 3 levels offered: AP compsci, normal compsci, and then easy compsci (not its actual name) for the people who did not give a single shit

obviously i wanted to take the last one. my parents really wanted me to take AP but were willing to settle for normal. you will notice there was no overlap

i wrangled my way out of taking AP because that was a year-long course and i didn't have space in my schedule (my parents are wonderful in the sense that they didn't want to infringe on my actual interests to force me to do compsci which meant i had LEVERAGE)

but we literally wound up discussing it with the dean of students who was like 'well if you're capable of AP and just not taking it for schedule reasons then easy compsci would probably be boring for you!' which was an unhelpful take, thanks EVAN

but i did get my way by virtue of volunteering with a progressive tech organization in lieu of taking regular compsci, so i took easy compsci (in which i used scratch again, yay nostalgia, and also briefly flirted with html) and also wound up learning to use squarespace which is criminally easy but you can make it look like you're an expert

and all this while i was getting better and better with spreadsheets due to my own individual love for spreadsheets that near as i can tell, nobody in my family shares (my dad does have a lot of spreadsheets but his aren't as detailed as mine and he doesn't include data validation so HA)

all of which (plus my ap calc and stats classes) combines to mean that while i would not be able to just sit down and write you some code, if you give me access to stack overflow and tell me what language it's supposed to be in i can probably figure it out. especially now that i've become familiar with python by accident (well, more by my desire to write fic)

and because now i'm stuck in a rut, my current internship is with another civic tech company and that's probably what i'll wind up doing next summer as well. i don't actually work on software but i do comms which means i need to be able to have conversations with the engineers so i've been learning on the job. i know so much help

SO. with regards to my fic, my parents would both be thrilled because i taught myself some of a new programming language (python) and disappointed because i taught myself some of a new programming language with just stack overflow and some time and all i'm using it for is fic.

but near as i can tell we finished that battle long ago. it was a resounding victory for birl and i continue to expand my technical talents into areas like photo/video editing and CRM tools.

thank you very much *bows*

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 2020 - 12 (Vibration)

Commander Shepard keeps WHAT in his toolbox? Well, whatever... it works I guess? Hope he’s not using it for personal use afterwards...

(ME1, in which Al is adjusting.)

---

“Hope you brought your tools with you, Shepard.”

“When do I never, Garrus?”

The turian moved to the side to allow Alistair access... to his own ship. Most commanding officers probably would've had a thorn in their side about that, but not him. Garrus had been there first anyway, so it was only natural he was taking up space.

Space being the undercarriage of the Mako, of course.

“Sorry to have to call you down like this, nobody else could reach it.” Garrus was eyeing his small frame in that way people always did when they sized him up. “I think you'll fit.”

Alistair felt his cheeks heat up briefly as he set his toolbox down. Unlike most of the things he owned, it was red and some of the paint was chipping off.  The N7 magnet on the lid was new, though – he had gotten that a few months after he'd gone into space.

“Yeah, I think I'll be able to reach it. You just hand me what I need.”

Even for him, it was a tight squeeze. Had he been a little more muscular, he probably would've gotten stuck. Hooray for being lean muscle, or so he kept to himself as he started to feel around for what was causing the problem.

“Could you hand me that screwdriver with the red handle?”

Garrus had it in his waiting right hand within seconds. “The box doesn't look Alliance issue, by the way.”

“It was my mom's.” Alistair turned back to monkey with the problem, grunting as he tried to unscrew the bolt holding the casing together. “Don't see a need to replace it, it's almost 40 years old now.”

If he closed his eyes, sometimes he could still see her holding it. But memories from before the age of 5 were hard to hold onto, especially with all the hits to the head he risked. Just having it with him was enough of a memory boost.

With one more click, the casing slid off. “There we go, that should let me have a little more access. Can't really see anything wrong, though.”

Garrus was reading off a datapad now. “We're in the right area, the scan picked up some weakness about where your left hand is. It's not showing up?”

The Spectre turned the flashlight on his omni-tool to full blast and rotate it so he could see where his hand was going. It all looked pretty solid to him, though a little on the dirty side. Their last mission had seen them through a pretty dusty planet. Once this was all done, he was going to need to give it a good wipe down. Hell if any of those tiny rocks got stuck in something when they were dropping down planet side.

Just another thing to add to his to-do list. He probably could've gotten someone else to do it, given it was his ship and he was kind of CO, but Alistair liked doing this sort of thing himself. It helped ground him as the universe went to hell left, right, and center.

“Nope, just seeing rocks.” He frowned, grabbing for his flashlight once again. “Hey, can you hand me that small, round-ended tool in there? I think I need to check with a vibration instead, something might have gotten knocked loose.”

He removed his omni-tool hand from the fix and held it out in expectation. Behind him, he could hear Garrus rummaging around in the box, muttering to himself in tones too low for the translator to pick up. Luckily, Alistair spoke a little turian – he definitely heard 'where the fuck is it' and 'why is this such a spirits damned mess' before 'this better be it, I'm not going back in there' as his helper pulled something out of the box.

Then again, translation was always key on seeing the mandibles flap. He had probably been a lot nicer about it.

“This it?” Garrus switched back to common as he place something small, smooth, and round into Alistair's hand. Instinct took him to the base, where the button was. As soon as he pushed it, it started to vibrate in his hand.

Much to the amusement of everyone in the cargo hold.

Alistair felt his face heat up as he pulled his hand away to hide the contents inside the housing. He didn't even need to look at it to know what it was – that pattern of vibration was... rather familiar to him to say the least. He clicked it off, wanting nothing more than to disappear altogether. After all, it wasn't every day a ship's commanding officer accidentally left his vibrator in with his tool kit.

Man, there were going to be jokes about that... only a tech would do that.

“Everything ok in there, Shepard?” From Garrus' tone, it was clear the turian hadn't realized what he was picking up. “Did I grab the wrong thing?”

Yes.

Still, Alistair sighed to let some of his embarrassment go. In the end, it was his fault. “You could say that. Look for something a little bigger with black duck tape on the handle. It has a head you can move around.”

Garrus found him the right tool without much issue. The Spectre shifted, placing his... other tool... to the side. He flicked the proper equipment on, but then frowned. Even with the head being able to move, there was no way he was going to be able to get it where he wanted without making the rocks bounce around like a child's playpen. Scowling, he turned it off.

“Damn it, it's too big.”

His eyes went to the side, where his vibrator was sitting. It... was pretty small, now that he was looking at it. Everything in him was screaming this was dumb, but he didn't feel like fighting with the proper equipment much longer. So he let that one drop as he picked up his improvised tool. Within seconds, it was vibrating against the pipe as he felt along it.

“So I picked up the right tool after all?” Garrus sounded hopeful. It was kind of cute, but Alistair was too focused on feeling. Halfway along the length, he felt the vibration ping against something. There was a loose pipe section that needed welding back into place.

Well, maybe not at first... but he realized this one was definitely going to be staying in the tool box. Mother, forgive him... but it did the job way better than his actual one, and it was smaller too. Better yet, the damn thing recharged.

Maybe he could test the pulse pattern out next time, that should  be useful in finding different problems...

“Oh, yeah. The big one was too bulky for this job.” Alistair put both at his feet. “I found, by the way. Guess we knocked something loose when we were planet-side.”

“We?” There was a tone to Garrus' voice that made his face heat up. “Last I checked, Shepard, you were the one driving.”

And he did so very well for never having a license, thank you very much.

“Alright, fine, I knocked it loose so I'm fixing it. Just hand me the thing and we can finish this up...”

It was an easy fix after that. Guided by the light of his omni-tool, everything was put back where it belonged and reinforced so it wouldn't happen again. Then the case went back on, and on top it the Mako's armor. It was free to crush some Geth another day.

Alistair wiped off his hands on a rag as he started to put his tools back in the box. The last one to go in was his newest – out of habit he wiped that down too before putting it back and closing the lid. Then he stood up, knees aching from the position he had been in for so long.

At least it was fixed.

“Thanks, Shepard.” Garrus was also wiping off his talons as they left some snickering techs – who knew better than to say anything when he was around, thank you very much – behind to return to the CIC on the Normandy. “I doubt I would've been able to fit in there without you.”

He smiled briefly, reaching out to push the button the elevator so he could put his toolbox away. “Small hands, they're good for something.”

“A lot of small things are. I don't think I've ever seen a tool like the one you used. Where'd you get it from anyway, it didn't look Alliance issued.”

Oh... just a shop on the Normandy that was a little too close to the consort's place for his liking.

Alistair felt the blood rush to his face as he wished the door would open. “It's not. I modified it from something else because I needed something smaller.”

“Mind showing me how to do it some time then?”

Yeah, step 1 – order a small, rechargeable vibrator. Step 2 – forget you left it in your tool box in front of half your crew. Step 3 – realize it's actually pretty good for small jobs and tight areas. Step 4 was the most difficult part of the modification – get over the embarrassment of it all.

He was still working on that one, but it was coming along nicely.

“Yeah, next time we're on the Citadel. I need to pick up another one anyway.”

The doors finally slid open, and Alistair stepped in and sighed in relief as they shut behind him. His omni-tool had started to blare a familiar message pattern. From the sounds of things, his XO was trying to contact him.

Please don't be about -

“Do you seriously keep a vibrator in your toolbox?”

Fuck.

Alistair groaned as he slapped a hand to his forehead. “Well NOW I do, the damn thing is a miracle worker in tight corners.”

“That's what he said.”

Bo was laughing on the other end – she was enjoying this. All Alistair could do was glare at his omni-tool in the hopes hers would malfunction and end the call. Given it was mostly made up of his aftermarket fixes, maybe it should've had a little more respect for him.

But he had fixed it too well for it to just malfunction, so it kept going.

“Please tell me Vakarian knew what he was doing.”

Alistair sighed and ran a hand over the short hairs on the back of his neck. “I'm going to say doubtful, unless turians get off on embarrassing people.”

“Knowing them, they probably do. But hey, you got a new tool out of it.”

Yeah, but he lost his favorite vibrator. Talk about a shitty transfer.

“I liked that one.” He kept his tone short as the door opened up. It was just a short walk to stow his toolbox, then it was back to work. “I'll talk to you later, it looks like Pressly wants me for something.”

Sighing, he ended the call and made a beeline for his office to get rid of the evidence. Then it was back to work as the Normandy's Commanding Officer. Maybe if he was lucky, the whole 'Commander Shepard keeps a vibrator in his tool box' thing wouldn't spread further than the ship.

Oh, who was he kidding. It was probably bouncing around the extranet now. Great. So much for respect for being humanity's first Spectre.

…

Well, at least he got a new tool out of it. He HAD been pretty unhappy with that last one... silver lining, maybe?

[raymondshields]

What is the technology level of the "duct-tape realms" in Ilya Serina? (steampunk, high fantasy/LOTR-esque, more advanced than earth, etc?)

This is gonna be a long answer, mainly because in order to answer this, I have to explain how the Serin works. For the record, this is based off of how it works in Fall of Ilya Serina- I don’t know what’ll happen in Starlight so let’s work off the timeline I know.

The Serin is a world of pure creation. (Long ago, it was based off of Minecraft. Five or six or maybe even eight years ago. It also has a nod to CS Lewis’ Wood Between the Worlds- he should’ve done more with that and he didn’t so I’m taking the idea and fucking running with it.)

Nothing stays in the same place. You see mountains on the horizon, by the time you get there, it’s a fucking forest. Fuck you, fuck your “cartography”. Shit moves around and it’s the portals to the other realms that don’t. There are specific locations, of course, they just move the fuck around.

It’s like- you make a puzzle with a map image on it. But the puzzle pieces are squares. They can fit anywhere, in any combination. There are little lights, though, on the board that will glow through the puzzle no matter what piece is on top of it. There are locations on the pieces- civilization, certain mountain ranges, forests, lowlands- but the pieces themselves just fuckin move around.

In Fall, it is canon that locations wander in large, wobbly, looping paths in the daytime and move towards the centre of the Serin at night. The Serin itself is kind of shaped like a donut- the sun sets and rises in the center, and the moon circles the outskirts. For these reasons, eclipses are quite common.

It is also canon in Fall that the Serin is largely conscious, if not sentient. It is aware of its inhabitants and how they are different from world-travellers who are passing through. If there is something in the Serin that it doesn’t like, you will know. Because it will take the problem and put it in your way. As many times as it takes for you to fix it. (That actually happened in Fall, too- Lusmos, Jules, Kinefira, Ophi, and Tarathiel were getting to Ilya Katayona and it put a mountain in their way three times before they went and fixed the problem, which was Lillith was stealing all the dragons meant to protect that area of the Serin.)

The Serin is however, lazy as fuck. It will sometimes mess with you and shove a forest in your way every now and then. But it won’t shove a whole lot of objects, like a city, in your way more than once. It doesn’t like moving more than one thing at a time to fuck with just one person or group. If you see the same thing twice and you’ve already passed it once, it’s because the Serin wants you to check it out.

Hence, maps are virtually useless. But then, Pale, why the fuck does anyone live there, and how? Well, they make do. In the many languages of the many species found in the Serin, in Jules’ words, you are less likely to come across a word that means ‘tower’ than you are to find one that means roughly ‘tall thin structure’.

Because the Serin, on top of moving shit around and fucking with people and being awful to deal with, looks differently to different people. What one person sees as a crack-like ravine full of trees just in front of them will appear as a river to someone else. What one person views as using large crystal spires to walk across is what another might see as walkways between old buildings made out of steel and large wires.

Jules explained this neatly to Tarathiel like this: It’s like 3D modeling. The models themselves don’t change, but the painted textures sure do. 

So maps and most directions of any sort are nigh impossible to make. In Fall, Jules found the formula the Serin uses to move things and used that, plus a general location network and a few other things and actually made a smartphone app that can work as a navigational tool for the Serin. Tarathiel uses this app to get herself to Ilya Taranisi to go rescue Lusmos in Fall, which befits the following cut from the novel:

I pulled out my phone and opened up Jules’ map app, to see what it wanted me to do. Firstly it started searching for a signal. The tip below the searching icon said “Tip: Get somewhere high. It’s easier to catch a signal.” Well, I was up high, so there wasn’t much of an issue there. After about thirty seconds of a cheerful “Searching for signal...”, it displayed a quick “Signal found!” followed by a “Connecting to signal...” A few seconds after that, it told me that it had found a signal, and then the popup went away, followed by a very Google-Maps like display. I noticed a search icon, and just to see if I could, searched for Ilya Taranisi. Jules’ app would probably save my life, so going after his god first seemed like a good idea. The only search result was for Ilya Taranisi, with two options: About and Get Directions. Hell, let’s get directions to Ilya Taranisi.

(Tarathiel is somewhat tech savvy, being from Ilya Tirana and having some adventures in Ilya Karina, homeworld to Maria Leuite and the solarpunk-style theme of pure science.)

And that’s how the Serin works. That all being known now, what sort of tech do the different civilizations in the Serin have?

There is no good way to answer this- different civilizations will have different resources and abilities. I’d like to say nobody in the Serin has anything like steampower or higher, since if they did they’d know better than to stay there in the duct tape realm that quite literally makes a game out of trying to kill you.

Most of the Serin’s civilizations have few trade routes if any at all, so they’re largely isolated from each other. Nomadic species are very likely to get wiped out with little trace of having ever existed. The ones that survive, like Kinefira’s changeling hive and the Maybo, learned to do so by clinging to their roots and not moving very far from their headquarters and capitals. 

Those two are actually two of the few documented civilizations- I haven’t stuck my protagonists in the Serin much, and those two are the only ones that have cropped up except for the occasional village that has accepted their fate and relies mainly on trade and worship to survive. (The Serin is nicer to those who worship the gods, if only because getting the faithful killed isn’t usually wise.)

Kinefira’s changelings are largely militaristic, and have figured out metalworking and some agriculture, though they largely gather considering their area is generally a forest to people, and always bears edible things. Winter does not strike the area too often because of how deep the forest is. (It’s like a lake, but replace water with trees. Elk as big as whales and entire civilizations in certain divisions like the oceanic ones- like the bathypelagic division from 700-1000m deep in the ocean. Forests do this in our world to a point, with different lifeforms appearing at different depths of the forest depending on the height of the trees, but the Changeling Forest takes it to an extreme.) They live at the bottom centre of the forest at the deepest point, so it’s very humid and very hot and their metalworking underground, below their fortress, makes it no more bearable.

The Maybo, on the other hand, are a friendly bunch who don’t really disturb anyone and generally just harass each other when they feel like it. This is the description I wrote for them in Fall, and if you want to draw it, be my guest because I sure as hell can’t.

The city grew closer, and soon, I stopped at its edge, in awe of the movie-elf-like craftsmanship in everything. And then I caught sight of what must’ve been a Maybo: they were odd little creatures, actually. They were about as tall as most halflings and some gnomes, but incredibly thin and short-limbed. They were covered in fur for the most part: their forearms, heels, and around their eyes seemed to be scaled. Their fur was far longer on their back, giving off an interesting look when combined with long, faun-like ears. This Maybo’s longer fur was kept tied in what looked like a ponytail, just below their tailbone. They had an angelic looking tail, but with fur instead of feathers at the end. It was impossible to tell if they had a male-female system like humans, but they, like most ‘fantasy’ races, weren’t almost naked.

(Though I should mention that immediately after this, the Maybo in question grabs Tarathiel, takes her to the elder of the city to get a spell so she can understand their language, which I very cleverly named Meyh’ktaio and did not include a guide on how to pronounce. Then they ask her about the outside world and she just fuckin shows them her phone and Jules’ app and her selfies with all her friends. They are mystified and I had so much fun writing that scene.)

The Maybo are among some of my favourite to write for: they have absolutely no basis in anything except maybe a slight nod to RuneScape’s Naragi in appearance. I made them and their entire culture and language up on the fly. In Fall, after Tarathiel returns to them after freeing Lusmos and heading to Ilya Katayona, Lusmos’ gifts to them for helping him and his group out are a silver elk that calls to whoever is worthy that can call it, and turning their God of the Waterfall into a person again so they can act as a spiritual leader for their people. The Maybe don’t really work with the Aethelian gods, as they’ve got their waterfall guy, but the waterfall itself is made of Tomian magic and they do generally follow his creeds, so they are regarded as Tomian.

I really like the Maybo. I don’t know where they might crop up next, as they don’t generally leave their area, but I like to think there’s a few out there who might be more personable and in the spotlight than Renmi, Nmenra, and Aushla, our two background character Maybo. (I have no idea what the gender culture is like for the Maybo, but I like to think Renmi’s a trans guy. Aushla’s the elder so she’s just Old Sage Woman, but Renmi’s definitely a trans guy.)

So, all in all, it really depends on the civilization, but with limited resources and the lack of reliable trading routes for anyone, don’t expect too much in the way of advanced technology. Kinefira’s changelings are about the most high-tech you’ll be seeing for a while, if and when we ever take a thirty-thousand-word trip through the Serin again.

(I like to keep the Serin as far from coherent as possible- the less rules I put on it, the more I can stuff in there. It has some young gods in there too, but it doesn’t need to have any real requirements.)

Though I feel I should mention that Ilya Serina is the real base of the whole project- not Ilya Aethela or Haridor or even Tarathiel: the Serin is what ties the whole project together, just as it ties the realms together. No novel I have written concerning the project at all hasn’t had at least a brief trip through it. It’s my pride and joy.

And yes, at one point I really did call it Afiroja. What was wrong with past me.

[deepspacepirate]

Director Orson Krennic: a character analysis

(Or, a rebuke to a post that got way out of hand, and I ended up dumping literally every thought I have about Krennic, so I decided to make it into its own independent meta.)

Yes, Krennic’s a poor guy who just wants some respect and never seems to catch a break. But he’s also a ruthless and Machiavellian narcissist with a dastardly sense of fashion. One doesn’t negate the other. His character is an interplay of both.

Krennic doesn’t come from the same posh background as other imperial officers and faces much classicism as a result. It’s undeniable that he is incredibly ambitious. He had to be in order to get to his position, both in the Republic Corps of Engineers and as the Director of Advanced Weapons research (aka the Death Star), in the face of much resistance. It’s quite admirable, really, and he sees it as a source of pride as well. Everybody loves a rags to riches story.

His bombast, ego, ambition, and lust for power are not things he’s ashamed of. In fact, these traits in themselves are not bad, nor do they make him a bad person. Problems arise because of these traits in combination with the following, mostly of which are traits of narcissists. He’s less entitled than your average narcissist and has evidence to back up his ego, but still a narcissist.

He is afraid of taking risks. He clings to the rails of the bureaucratic ladder instead of staking it out on his own in a field like pure research, where you can either be wildly famous or wallow in obscurity. Galen says this to him in the Rogue One novelization, and boy does it hurt because he knows it’s true. Because he fears taking his own path, he’s at the behest of the Empire. All opportunities that present themselves to him will be ones that further the Empire’s own goals. Not that he has a problem with them.

Speaking of which, Krennic doesn’t have real goals; he doesn’t know what success for himself looks like. In full accordance with being a raging narcissistic, he’s an ambitious social climber whose only goal is to be powerful. What that looks like, we have no idea.

Before we go any further, I want to make an important comment about power. Power is not inherently evil. Wanting power doesn’t make you a bad person. Being powerful just means having the ability to effect change. You can use it to command the massacre of millions of people, but you can also use it to create a system for sustainable energy. Power is not an end, but a means to an end.

That said, being powerful isn’t actually a real goal. When you set goals, you want them to be SMART. Goals must be specific, measurable, attainable, reasonable, and have a time deadline. Krennic’s goal is neither specific nor measurable (which renders consideration of the latter three letters moot).

There are so many ways to be powerful including, but not limited to: senator, social media mogul, actor, political activist, prominent author, famous architect, and successful tech entrepreneur. “I want to be powerful,” is so vague, it may as well not even be a goal at all. And if you don’t even know what your goal looks like, how can you measure it? How do you know that you’ve reached it?

A quest for power ends when one has enough to execute on whatever end goal they have, but Krennic has none, so his quest for ever greater power never ends. He’ll just keep climbing the bureaucratic ladder to the top. The only way to climb the ladder is by serving your superiors, so the Empire’s goals become his goals.

He has problems with authority. He hates all of them. He wants to have the freedom to do things on his own terms, but they won’t let him. That’s the consequence of working for somebody else. And when you work for somebody else, you know you don’t have all the power.

Now, I want to go on a brief tangent about Galen’s business partnership offer to Krennic. It was an out for Krennic. The perfect out, in fact. He would have been unbelievably happy there. Barring responsibility to shareholders, there are no restrictions as to what entrepreneurs can do; they get to be their own bosses, set their own goals, set their own rules, do whatever they want. The only other authority figure in the vicinity would be Galen, who wouldn’t even be his superior. He’d be working alongside his best friend, whom he knows respects him.

In fact, when Galen first tells him about the project, Krennic is reeling, literally incapable of saying anything other than dazedly repeating Galen’s words with a question mark at the end.

For a brief moment he glimpsed a new destiny opening before his eyes, a window into a future he had never imagined for himself, a path to an entirely different life, and yet just as quickly as the window opened, it closed, slammed shut as much by long years of training as by a feeling of trepidation.

This is such an incredibly tragic moment when you consider how different things could have been had he said yes. How much better things could have been. A life without betrayal and loss. Unfortunately, he was too afraid to take it.

So he’s stuck in the position of simultaneously hating his bosses and also wanting respect from them. This becomes a problem because…

He’ll do what it takes to get what he wants, but he’s not a spineless bootlicker. He’s much too prideful for that. The thing about people ruthlessly ambitious as Krennic is that they don’t bow down to anybody. Bureaucrats hate this. To them, Krennic is just an uppity chav ¹ who thinks he can make it to the top. I have no doubt Krennic picks up on the fact that he’s hit a glass ceiling. He can’t woo them; they hate him just for being him. It’s unbelievably petty, so he’s petty right back at them. They owe him respect for all he’s done! So he seeks to undermine the authority of those above him (i.e. Tarkin) the only way he can - via manipulation and cunning. It’s what he’s good at and he knows it.

Despite all of the above, he seeks external validation (a mark of narcissists), such as rank squares, a dramatic cape, and being in charge of big projects. Narcissists are both immensely prideful and profoundly insecure. His ruthless ambition is a direct consequence of these insecurities. He needs to show off for any modicum of self dignity. Even in the presence of Galen he gets defensive about his position.

“But I am serious,” Galen cut in. “And I do understand your position. I just think you deserve more than…this,” he added, motioning in a way that took in the Corps of Engineers headquarters. Krennic swallowed to suppress a sudden defensiveness, a raw desire to tell Galen Erso that this was all a sham; to load that datapad of Erso’s with the schematic of the battle station and show him what he was really in charge of.

This ties closely to his lack of concrete goals. Without those, everybody else always determines your worth: whether you stand up to their expectations. When you can set your own goals and your own standards for success, you can fall back on those. If you fall short of someone else’s expectations, you can say, “Fuck that. This is what matters to me and I meet my own standards.” But Orson has none of those. He’ll never feel self fulfillment, and he’ll never be personally satisfied with himself.

He doesn’t want to be responsible for his actions, specifically, the ones that reflect poorly on him. I don’t know why Krennic doesn’t have a goal more concrete than “be powerful”, but if had to guess I’d say it’s because he’s afraid of failing at that goal. It would be a failing on his own part and there’s no plausible deniability. He can’t say, “They gave me unrealistic goals,” or, “ They were plotting against me.” It falls on him now. He’s more than eager to take credit for his success, he’s too afraid to take responsibility for his failures. Even though Krennic hates being beholden to anybody, he’s afraid of being completely independent. He’s a child that wants to be a grown up, but he doesn’t want to wake up and smell the taxes.

Everything he does, his ambition, his quest for power, his Machiavellian tendencies, even his dramatic fashion sense, all stem from the fact he is a sad and lonely narcissist trying to prove himself in place where nobody wants him to succeed. It all feeds back into itself. He’s put himself in an environment that exacerbates his narcissistic traits, and he becomes more and more ruthless as he tries to maintain his dignity and feed his ego.

– Notes 1. I apologize for using this word; I don’t know another less offensive word that more accurately describes what the posh officers think of him

Bonus: AU where Orson accepts Galen’s business proposal and quits his job in the Corps of Engineers. The Death Star never gets built, nobody dies, and it’s happy endings for everybody.

[backseat-imagines]

Can you do a headcanons set for yandere!chocobros? It's a guilty pleasure of mine. Of course, only if you are comfortable with it.

Since it’s about this subject I will go ahead and keep it under the readmore

I will be combining these just a little bit. Now I am not too familiar with Yandare, I’ll admit that. Just that’s primarily someone holding a strong affection that starts off seemingly innocent and just turns into a bad obsession is what I’m told? And it doesn’t always end up in the best sort of situation for the holder of said affections? (Boy howdy that already is beginning to sound awfully familiar to past experiences..)

Noctis is sly in his way of going about things. He manages to hide that side of himself better, or at least find ways where people would shrug it off.

He’s already made remarks before about how him being a prince it makes him want to take them far and away, and lock them away in his kingdom to keep them safe and guarded. Of course if that doesn’t go well then he passes it off as an awkward attempt at a joke or romance.

But the next best thing he can do, is put a tracker on their phone. Nobody is really going to know of it, but if someone did again he would try to say that because he’s royalty it’s just a way to know everything is fine and they’re okay.

Very protective and possessive and as long as they linger in his domain the only ones that will see them is himself, his trusted friends, and of course his family.

While he tries to present a much calmer, sweeter, caring and even loving image to them and in front of others. One wrong move, say one wrong thing to them, or look at them in the wrong way and he will have someone executed for their sake.

Ignis is the kind who stays back and watches his love from afar.

But as he makes sure no one gets close to them.

If someone is, then that’s when his watching ends and he finally comes up, making it well known that the person is crossing some kind of boundary. Even if they were just coming up to talk.He’ll also barge right on in with a very heated and breathless kiss-claiming them as his- and while his love has their eyes closed, his are open, and shooting a glare at the other from the corner of his eye.

But if the other person was to persist… then he can’t help it if there was some kind of accident… Either leaving them perpetually afraid or perhaps missing.

For any time they might get upset for any part of his actions that are less than okay- he doesn’t like it when they are upset and he ends up trying to convince them what he does really isn’t wrong.

When Gladio gets like this he is highly possessive and literally everyone is going to know.

And it’s to a point where you feel like they can’t make a move without him when out and about because some part of him is on them- or if sitting down then he moves them onto his lap.

Someone doesn’t know they’re taken and they try to come on to them? He’ll make and drive home the point even if he has to beat them near to the point of death.

Though the good thing is he wouldn’t have to- he hardly even does it. With how big and imposing he is, all it takes is a glare, or a low threatening growl, and most go away.

The bad thing is they may have to find themselves between others and him just because his fuse for that is pretty fucking short. They’re his good girl/boy, so what gives anyone the right to look at them?

There are times where he deems it necessary to find ways to keep them stuck at home. Says that it’s for their own good, that it’s him trying to keep them safe and it’s the best way he can protect them.

Prompto almost never leaves the object of his affection’s side. Including when they are out in public. The only time he’d let them stray is when going to the bathroom, but even then he waits right outside the door for them.

While he loves to see them happy, he only wants them to be happy with him. And he can’t stand them giving attention to anyone else.

Which means he’s not always too keen on them being around friends. Again why do they need all of them when they have him and his undying love?

Stands it even less if he comes out and sees someone talking with them or heaven forbid if that person touches them. He absolutely loses his shit.

He gets angry, loud, causes a scene. Irrational as hell. Gets to the point where he’ll start threatening the other person and even trying to push or take a swing at them. And it’s hard to calm him from this.

As for wooing them and winning them over;

It started off small with Noctis. His crush leading him to finding one piece of social media. But the more he grew to like them it just made him find every other last other one to follow. Never liking or commenting, but he takes in all the details. He’s learned a lot about likes, views and opinions, even trying to find where they like to go. So it starts off more casual with finally going out to one of their frequented spots, and with something they enjoy right in his hands like a favorite book or anything like that, so they already see there is a common interest they share. And he starts to talk about other things they have in their interests. Meetups happen more often, and then it’s not too long before he uses his royal nature to help lure them in further by getting them into events they would have never been able to touch with a 10ft pole before. After all, why would they want to start passing up spending their whole day with him when he’s treating them to things like this?

Remember when I said Ignis was the one who was more of a watcher sort? Yeah that’s how it was to start with too. It took a long while for them to notice it but any time they went to a cafe? He was somewhere off in the back. To the flower store? Off in a different aisle but still there. Bookstore or library; here’s going to pick a table a little further in the back shortly after they sit down and read so he can act like he’s doing the same. And it gets to a point where it starts to get busy in all these place, so that’s his chance to slip around and ask them if they can share a table together. Once they get to talking, Ignis makes it feel as if they’re like old friends, and it’s strange; they don’t know him but yet he seems so familiar. And after that they bump into him outright even more times. By the third time he began to chuckle to himself “You know, they say when you bump into a stranger three times like this that it’s fate and destiny…”, It’s a cute line, a charming one, one that was enough to give him a full chance to get a drink together back at the cafe And it was so strange the fact that he ventured a guess of their favorite drink from the cafe and he nailed it on the first guess…

Gladio found himself taken by that sweet little thing over down at the local store. Ever since they started working he’s been going to it more, despite the fact the price there was a little steeper. He became a daily regular, and going through their lane was perfect for small talk. In which he also found it to be a perfect chance to flirt too. Of course he’d also get aggravated with any advances made by the others too, or really just them smiling at the others too; he realizes they have to in order to seem polite but that still doesn’t make him any chipper. But then one late night he came in and saw they were working a late shift, and when they had got off work there was some trouble brewing in the parking lot; some creepsters hounding them and catcalling, started to get a little too close- Gladio jumped in, claiming he was their boyfriend and how he didn’t want to catch them pulling this shit again. Gladio’s intimidating enough to make the others go away, and afterwards he walks them home safely. From then on he volunteers to walk them to and from work, under the guise of actually pretending to be their boyfriend. And it was perfect; more quality time, but more importantly he was able to back everyone else off of them like this too. And somewhere down the line he talks them into turning what they have into more of a real thing.

Prompto is a big tech guy. So with him it started off as something small and innocent; they were having difficulties with their laptop and he just so happened to be right by them when it started. So he stepped up and volunteered to help solve their problem, managing to convince them by saying it’ll be cheaper, that if he manages to fix it then all they need to get him is a soda or maybe even dinner. Needless to say, he fixed it all right up and got what he wanted. And since it was an all too old laptop, that had them coming back to him more and more- which started leading him into sabotaging the old thing just to keep them coming back to him more. Every time they had to that was even more time he had to sit around and talk with them, and go on what he’d pretend were dates, until he finally worked up the nerve to ask them out.

[thepaperthrones]

When Its Time To Walk Away Pt.4

Preview to The Long Goodbye

Back to Part III

All Men Are Brothers

Karma: There was this great kung fu western flick my god brother Kenny brought over called All Men Are Brothers: Blood of the Leopard which was adaptation of the Chinese classic Water Margin. It was the story of a high level government official who must choose between his position and his allegiance to a rough street monk who is very anti-corruption in the government. It represented so many relationships at that time. My god brother Wayne was really loud and boisterous, but when I was around he was always calming me down to learn discretion. When he died of cancer in 1997 it put a large hole in my heart. Somehow I ended up becoming that person that was calming folks down and was caught between the diplomacy and the ethical outrage of the people I was around. We would leave shows in San Jose, San Luis Obispo or San Antonio. It would be 3am as we drove home. Somehow at every gas station there was a group of young men about to fight. Somehow there was some kid at an IHOP looking at his pager like “I’m going to get revenge”. Somehow I always seemed to put myself in the middle and talk them down. Somehow I never got shot.

Koncepts: just a perfect song man. we were all really vibrating on the same frequency. I love the little glass clinks and crowd ambiance from the sample. and the kick drum knocks so hard. that’s that Bay Area shit man, a mellow ass sample and deep bass.

Ashes To Ase

Karma: We would perform a lot in the “hip hop” room at raves. That was the culture of the 90’s. Hypnotic hated it because he didn’t feel techno. However to be quite honest, the women at raves were thousand times better looking and more stable than the women who went to hip hop. The baddest of them used to hang in the “jungle” room – a rough amalgamation of actual jungle, trip hop, drum and base as well as what would eventually be dub step. Kirby and I loved going back forth over those beats. We could rap for hours over the stuff. For me it brought me home to Jupiter, Florida. It put me in the red clay of Georgia. It gave me the woods of Mississippi. I loved obscure southern rap and especially enjoyed the bounce aspect. I also appreciated the underestimation that California and New York put upon southern rap. It paralleled the mistake many crews in the Bay ran into. They dissed us on tape, we responded by snatching the mics at their show and serving them. Then they took it outside to battle and got demolished. Then they wanted to throw hands and lost there too. This track is a narrative to that. At the time we wouldn’t have seen it that way.

Koncepts: I feel a way about this song. It’s fucking amazing - the beat, the rhymes, the hook… my god. and when we dropped this at a show? bedlam. but it has a kind of ignoble history. My partner Zvi and I had this Delia Gartrell 45, which is this brutal ballad about a woman’s son dying in the Vietnam war, and we chopped it real slow. Zvi had the idea of chopping up Skull Snaps and doing a bounce pattern with it. It was unique, no one was doing bounce drums with samples, especially not old school breakbeats. Anyway, we kinda fucked up the money because we also gave this track to Mazzi [rapper with our other group the Soul Purpose] and it was like, ok, let’s see who does what with it… Mazzi made an incredible track called “1 and 9” about being from the hood in Jersey. It was super ill. So we had this issue, who could use the beat? Nobody even cares about shit like that anymore, but back then it was a real problem. Zvi wanted to roll with Mazzi’s version, I was on the fence. Anyway, I feel like that disagreement was another one that ended up torpedoing the project. And what’s sad is that neither song ever came out - the Soul Purpose project fell apart not too long after and the album we were working on never made it out of the demo stage. Nowadays I prefer “Ashes” to “1 and 9”. But at the time I couldn’t call it.

My Morning Star

Karma: Perhaps the most honest writing anyone was doing in (w)rap™ at that age. I was in my early twenties trying to understand what it meant to be a man while facing a divorce like end to my long term relationship. There were some rules we made up to protect our esteem. One of them was we wouldn’t date women we met in the industry because it led to hardship later. I think that put so much expectation on the women we fell in love with outside of music that when those relationships crumbled it hurt us even more. On top of which, Hypnotic and I were facing this same debacle every time: why does it seem like self-control and discipline gets punished. Simply put, we both were in faithful parties in long term relationships that ended when our romantic partners were not faithful. That combined with life in show biz, turned us bitter when we stuck to the honor code. 

Koncepts: this beat is mad mournful with that one drawn out note that descends and ascends in the chords. I used an SP1200 on a lot of the Auditron drums courtesy of my partner Zvi and you can hear the programming gets a lot better and the drums are chunkier. Ka and Ba perfectly wrote this for how the beat felt to me. Vulnerable and hurt but still standing strong. It’s a shame the project never came out because there are so many tracks that I felt were just the perfect distillation of a feeling, this was one of those. Probably my personal favorite now.

Ba

Koncepts: I love this song man. Ba really showed his heart on it. And it takes skill to rap over something like this which is kinda mellow and laid back but not like, sad or down. the loop just gets me in a zone; very based. this might have been an intro beat or slated for Per Aa Ra’s project originally. There were earlier takes that I felt like Ba nailed it a bit better. But you couldn’t save takes back then and we had that stupid belief that a) we have to deliver everything in one take and b) we can definitely do the next one better. so it goes.

Karma: I remember when this was done and I would drive around with mix downs, this was the soundtrack to getting through traffic. It became synonymous with “things are going to be all right”. I struggled for many years to explain what this meant without falling into esoteric answers or metaphysics. One thing my Dad was very good at impressing upon me was “don’t feed steak to children” meaning don’t waste your time trying to explain complexities people don’t want to learn. In of myself, I was learning how to be more efficient and not waste my time. This song really gave folks a sense of optimism.

The Final Conflict

Karma: Why a final conflict? One thing I have come to terms with and this album should evidence – I can see things before they happen. I am not going to spend a single second of time on weirdos defending it. I will just state – people were downloading music from www.kemeticsuns.com three years before Napster. Towards the middle of 1997, something was changing in the Bay Area. I was starting to get fans who worked at something called a “tech company” who would invite me to work as a contractor. They had website that had millions behind them but they couldn’t tell you what they did all day. They wanted to pay me to tell them what was cool. More and more I saw a reliance on machines as the new free labor. The dot come boom was becoming a second gold rush and I was aware it had it limits. In 2017, the largest obstacle facing the American worker is not automation. It is the perception that automation demands a better quality of life for all. There are some very good thinkers on this subject but I would direct attention at Berkeley’s own Phillip K. Dick, Frank Herbert and William Gibson. 

The point being, the matter of artificial intelligence is not an if, it’s a when. Once this consciousness evolves, it will split in its belief systems. If humans can be cruel, please believe there are machine gods that can be crueler. I am reminded of the quote by Francis de la Rochefoucauld, “Man believes he has abandoned his vices when in fact they abandoned him long ago”. Now looking at where we are with a new year, self driving cars and a new a president, I suspect we are at the placed I had hoped to avoid. Maybe there are some jewels in here for our fans in the years to come.

The album in its entirety is below:

The Final Conflict Soundcloud 

Part 5