#and also i HIGHLY doubt that anyone is tagging anything with the lost files games but fuck it. tagging it anyway.

[aceredshirt13]

So, upon my friend's recommendation, I recently finished playing The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes: The Case of the Serrated Scalpel, an old point-and-click DOS game that was quite fun and and had some banging chiptuneish music. (Where else could I watch Holmes down two pints in two seconds, ask for another one until Watson stops him, and then immediately bribe every single criminal in the entire pub for information? It's an experience.) As such, I went to download the sequel, The Case of the Rose Tattoo, and found a comment beneath it that I find... baffling, to say the least.

…You mean to tell me that you believe modern depictions of Sherlock Holmes are too autistic? Sherlock Holmes?? The same Sherlock Holmes whose original stories have countless bodies of academic text dedicated to discussing him as an early and extremely prominent depiction of autism? The same Sherlock Holmes that from every adaptation I had ever seen from the moment I even knew what autism was, I thought, "oh he is definitely autistic" before I even knew I was autistic?? If they're playing Rose Tattoo, that suggests they likely also played Serrated Scalpel, and let me tell you I did not get neurotypical vibes from Holmes's depiction in that game, either. A neurotypical Sherlock Holmes is like... just not Sherlock Holmes. If you take that away from him, he is no longer himself. And the media illiteracy to assume otherwise is truly astounding.

[eziocauthon89]

Mighty Nein Cyberpunk AU

This thought occurred to me the other day after hearing Amaranthe’s song “Digital World”, and I spent yesterday’s downtime at work working on it in tidbits, and here it is! Mostly put under a Read More, cause there’s A Lot! (Tagging @criticalrolo, who let me randomly blurt the parts out at her over the day!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Consider, if you will, an Exandria very akin to the one shown in the upcoming Cyberpunk 2077 game; very post-transhumanism world, cybernetic augments are beyond accepted, they're virtually expected.

It's a world of corporations, where The Company is all, and the little guys either work with them or get ground up in the gears. The most powerful one is the Rexxentrum Assembly. They've stood solid For decades, having fingers in every profitable venture imaginable.

The only ones to oppose them are the Xhorhasian Conglomerate, a collection of smaller corporations who've banded together to survive, and possibly someday defeat, the mega-corp that is Rexxentrum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beau works for the Cobalt Soul, an ancient order of hackers that have existed since before the transhumanism event began, keeping their eyes in every corner of the web. They used to be activists, but these days, they're largely archivists and data/info brokers. Beau thinks they should return to their roots and join with the Conglomerate against the Assembly, and is actively working to that end.

Like much of the party, she's an expert hacker, specializing in getting access through stolen info. Physically, she is the least augmented of the party, save for a few tweaks to make her blows a bit faster, and an analysis system to be better able to determine weak points and the "stats" of her enemies.

Her hacking signature is the sigil of the Cobalt Soul, positioned in front of a pair of wrapped fists crossed at the wrist as though over a chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jester Lavorre is a young and fresh hacker. Daughter of the owner of that digital and physical smut empire, known only as The Ruby, and heir to the vast network of anything one could want in that arena. After inadvertently destroying the career of a local prominent politician with a cyber-prank, it was decided that she needed to get out and experience more of the world.

As a hacker, she predominantly focuses on digging up embarrassing secrets of high-level individuals, and then broadcasting them on the web, in her signature saccharine pink and unicorn-decorated infodumps. In the real world, she does her best to make sure her team is in the best shape they can be, getting supplies to help with that whenever she can.

As mentioned, her trademark is the infodump, usually in the form of a bullet-pointed video, coated in sickly sweet pinks, with unicorns and the like dancing in the background.

Aside from the usual strength and endurance mods that basically everyone has, she also has a mod in her skin that lets her shift colors and patterns to almost anything. It's usually not good enough for any proper stealth, but it's fun as hell! She has a similar mod on her horns, but stronger, where she can brighten them and basically become a living rave lighting system. The tips of her horns can also become the most literal version of "headlights" ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fjord is one of the more interesting party members. Heavily augmented, he once followed the orders of his patron, an entity named Uk'otoa who he only had contact with through the deep web. This entity led him to great troves of augmentations, each with a nugget that Uka'toa itself desired. These troves helped to find the efforts of the party, leading to at least tolerate the presence of the outside force.

Recently, however, his new circle of friends led him to realize that Uk'otoa was, in fact, an incredibly malicious AI from beyond The Walls. With effort and some excising hacks from his friends, he cut off his ties with Uk'otoa. Unfortunately, many of his augments required an external AI to continue to function, and so he let himself be connected to another AI, dubbed the Wildmother by another of his party, one with a far more gentle motivation.

Fjord remains the least hack-savvy member, preferring reality to anything cyberspace can offer. Among his augments, he can deploy a macro-molecular bladed sword seemingly out of thin air, sharp enough to slide between the molecules of most materials, neatly slicing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb's story is simple enough. He was a Company Man. See, though, the thing about being a Company Man, is you can't ever really stop being a Company Man. Especially when that Company is the Assembly.

After one of his tests to enter the upper ranks resulted in the immolation of his family, he snapped. Gathering what he needed, he disappeared, a truly impressive feat in such an interconnected world, and doubly so when not even the Assembly could find him again. Now, he seeks a way to burn them down from the inside out.

Caleb's hacking signature has been dubbed "Scorched Earth", because when he's finished getting what he needs from a target, if he so chooses, he will burn them down, leaving them nothing behind, right down to the system files, and even the hardware itself if he can swing it.

Physically, his augmentations reside chiefly in his arms and his head. Highly experimental neuromods that boosts his already almost eidetic memory, letting him pick out any memory since installation and recall it in perfect clarity, and even overlay filters to uncover further information. Additionally, mini-producers across his body and microjets imbedded in his forearms allow access to his secret weapons: nanites and plain ol' fire.

The micro-producers scattered across his body can generate a cloud of nanites under his control, allowing him much of his near-magical feats. As a way to maintain an at-hand supply of them, he usually forms them into the form of a small animal, granting a measure of hivemind capabilities to allow it to impersonate said creature. The microjets allow him to be as near to a pyromancer as he can without using actual magic. Additionally, he has two small computers, resting in holsters under his arms, that together hold enough power to brute force hack into nearly any system he needs to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Where Caleb's story is one of the simpler ones, Nott's can be argued to be the most tragic. On the face of it, she appears to be a Goblin, a faction of heavy augmenters who actively renounce form over function, and typically change their bodies as far from conventionally attractive as they can. Sure, the way Nott openly despises other Goblins is a bit odd, but who's to say what that kind of modding does to ones brain?

Except. She isn't a Goblin by choice. Due to some unknown reason, perhaps for an experiment, or as recompense for some perceived slight, Nott's original form was destroyed, and her brain and mind supplanted and locked into this Goblin form. Now, she follows Caleb, in the hopes that someday, he can learn how to let her leave this body behind and return to one more like her original.

Not to say this form is without it's pros, of course. An enhanced stealth suite and active targeting means that when she hits you, you won't have a clue where it came from.

Typically, Nott doesn't do much hacking, favoring the real world and protecting Caleb (and eventually, the rest of the party) as they do their deep dive hacks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molly and Yasha were strangers, drifting in from another distant city, claiming to be entertainers, but far more capable at defending themselves online and off. The pair came together and bonded over their lost histories. Yasha, having had a section of hers stolen and sealed away, unsure what she was or did during that time. Molly, having no recollection at all before waking up in that shallow grave. 

Molly's mods were as flashy as the man, able to produce holographic fancies from his fingertips on command, making for a handy show (and distraction) as needed. When he fell, on a mission to rescue their fellows, it nearly broke the team apart.

Yasha's mods were more straightforward; she relied largely on brute strength to overcome her foes, both in reality and in the web. Nobody cheered when her memories were finally unlocked, as they changed her, turned her on them. The team still hopes that, someday, they might bring her back from that dark place she found herself sucked into, but they know, that day may well be far off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caduceus was something of an enigma. Where Beau was one of the most human of the group, Cad was very much the most inhuman. Not even he was entirely sure how much of himself was still organic, but he doubted it was even near 15%. He spent nearly all of his time plugged into the web in some capacity, resulting in a more distracted and absent-minded demeanor than the others were used to.

Nobody was quite sure what all his mods could do. One thing that they were (relatively??) sure about, was that he had a direct line to some powerful AI, one that he called the Wildmother. She seemed to have good intentions for those who followed her, but the party was still wary. They'd been burned before, with Uk'otoa.

Cad's hacking signature was... Well, actually, nobody was quite sure what his signature was. Every now and then, he'd take credit for some random hack, usually one that someone else also claimed shortly after, and always it turned out to have farther reaching implications than anyone else thought it might have.

[maryenette-writes]

Imperfect Pt. 8 [Batsis]

A/N: I FINALLY WROTE THE NEXT PART (after like three months? or more?). Sorry for the long wait, I hope it lives up to your expectations. There’s quite a bit of action in this, Batsis being badass >:) But unfortunately, not a lot of interactions.

Also, I lost all my tags because I accidentally deleted my taglist, so I’m sorry if I didn’t tag you :( I was just going off what I had last time and the asks I received recently 

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1711

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

MASTERLIST

When [F/N] arrived at the location of the supposed terrorists, the others hadn’t began their attack… yet. Knowing the way her father did things, [F/N] knew that no one would be killed… if they didn’t piss Jason off, that is. The idea was to raid the place, then investigate later, a plan she highly disagreed on. Not only will that give their targets time to eliminate valuable data, it was risky, considering they could be losing key suspects.

However, when she brought that up, Bruce dismissed it, stating that Tim could easily recover any deleted data.

Now, she loved her younger brother, but they heavily underestimated the enemy. Even after months of investigation on these people, they didn’t seem to grasp how dangerous and capable these people were. They had the CIA on the edge of their seats, and that’s saying something.

Not to mention they discovered and eliminated a veteran agent.

[F/N] knew that she had to get the data before the place was raided. It was no doubt going to be difficult, as the place was under heavy surveillance, not taking into account the guards patrolling the place.

[F/N] sighed, mentally going over her plan as she geared up. She was not one for guns, not because she didn’t kill--she actually had done quite a bit of that, though Bruce didn’t have to know--but because it was unnecessarily loud and messy. She also hated dealing with the possibility of running out of bullets. So she only had two guns on her, the rest of her offensive weapons consisted of knives, electric traps, and a bo-staff.

Once she was done, she silently approached the compound, melting into the shadows with her black catsuit. Using her special contacts, she scanned the area and located a total of three cameras and two bodyguards. She spotted her way in through a vent opening.

As cliche as that sounded, it always worked for her.

Careful to stay out of the camera, [F/N] quietly climbed her way up the building and opened the vent, entering it with ease. She opened a hologram of the building’s layout from her wristband and used it to navigate her way into their archive room, where all the data was stored.

Unfortunately, the vent didn’t lead up to that room, nor the hallways leading there. From the reports she recovered from her friend, the door required a code to enter. [F/N] dropped down into a small broom closet and opened her holographic computer, hacking into the network and tampering with the security cameras. She silently thanked her friend for tampering with the system before he was killed, or else she would never have gotten in. Whoever was in charge of their technology, they were good.

After ensuring that the cameras were not a problem anymore, [F/N] snuck out of the closet and into the hallways. She kept well away from the guards, having memorized their shifts from sitting on the sidelines for so long. She reached the archive room in no time.

“Okay… let’s see here…” she mumbled to herself, opening the code panel. “Wow… okay… okay, I can work with this…” she whispered, slightly surprised when she saw the complexity of the technology used. According to her timer, she had six minutes until a pair of guards crossed this hallway, meaning she had to be quick.

Luckily for her, time was on her side and she unlocked the door quickly. [F/N] closed the door and went straight to the control panel, inserting a drive in to extract all the data she could on these people.

As she was going through the data, her eyes widened at the files she was seeing.

“You’re kidding me…” she gasped quietly, scanning over the evidence she was getting. These people were worse than she and the CIA initially thought, not to mention this plot went deeper than anyone predicted.

She had to get this to the bureau.

Then an alarm went off.

The room dimmed and there was an alert on the monitor, followed by an automatic shutdown. [F/N] swore and quickly worked on repowering the machine, typing furiously to bypass the initial commands.

However, her progress was halted when the door opened, and several men and women entered. Noticing an intruder, they didn’t even wait a second to draw their guns out and start shooting. [F/N] just dodged the first wave of bullets aimed at her.

“What the hell…” she cursed as she drew her own guns. She waited for the enemy to approach her hiding spot and instantly shot him in the head before turning and shooting the others in the room. Although she preferred not to use guns in her missions, that did not mean she had a poor aim. Her shots landed right where she wanted them to land.

After quickly eliminating the enemies, [F/N] took the drive and made her way out of the room, deeming that it was too dangerous to stay. Who knew what else would come her way, or what kind of mechanism they had in place in case of an attack. For all she knew, there could be a bomb just ready to obliterate the building any second.

She did not want to wait to find out.

When she exited the room, [F/N] ran down the hallway and turned, only to be met with a group of armed guards. And of course, they noticed her.

With a sigh, [F/N] pulled out her guns once more. “Every damn time…” she mumbled before she began shooting.

The guards didn’t stand a chance.

Knowing that this stealth mission was ruined, [F/N] decided to get out of the building by force. What triggered the alarm, she didn’t know. There was a possibility it could be her, but considering the shock when they saw her in the archive room, she deduced that it was most likely due to her family’s attack. That meant they were focused on the attack from the outside, rather than a intruder from the inside.

[F/N] quickly took down those who stood in her way. She had the element of surprise; they didn’t know she was already inside, confirming her suspicions. When she finally went outside, she spotted Dick and Damian effortlessly fighting the guards. Seeing them defeat the enemies so seamlessly made her slightly jealous, but she had no time to dwell on it. Four more were coming her way.

[F/N] shot at them, but she ran out of bullets quickly, having spent them on earlier foes. Deeming the weapon useless, she threw it at their faces, using it as a distraction for her to run up to them, close enough to disarm them physically.

[F/N] went into auto-pilot mode.

During her training, she had gone up against people twice her size, and multiple people at a time. During her time in the field, she had been forced to fight against all the odds. She was used to fighting. The difference between training and the field, though, was that she didn’t pull her punches in the field.

Which was why when she felt someone grab her from behind, her first instinct was to hopefully get out of his hold. When that didn’t work, she didn’t think twice as she grabbed her knife and blindly swung her arm back.

From the scream and the way he loosened his hold on her, it was safe to say she got him.

The fight was soon over, and thankfully everyone--save for their enemies of course--emerged unharmed. [F/N] took her knife from the now deceased man and cleaned it. When she looked up, she saw everyone staring at her.

“What?” she asked, guessing they were probably going to ask why she disobeyed Bruce’s order.

“[F/N],” said Bruce, approaching her ominously. Although his face was partially covered with a cowl, she could feel the disappointment and anger he exerted. However, it was… different. It wasn’t slight, it felt like a raging fire, swallowing up whole forests and no amount of water or rain could stop it.

Bruce didn’t say anything. He simply cast his eyes down at the corpse in front of her. At first, [F/N] couldn’t tell what was wrong. Sure she disobeyed him, but he had never been this angry with her before, even during those times she embarrassed him in front of his colleagues.

But then, she realized it.

He saw her kill.

Slowly, very slowly, Bruce looked back up at her. [F/N] swallowed, realizing the weight of the situation.

Sirens blared in the distance, followed by the dim glare of flashing lights. Her father stilled for a moment as he assessed the situation. [F/N] used to be able to read her father, and her family. They never realized but she had been studying them for the longest time. She could always tell what they were thinking.

Yet right now, her father was blanker than paper to her. She just couldn’t read him, and that scared her more than any mission she had been on.

“We’ll deal with this back home,” he said quietly, his voice monotone, “go. I’ll deal with the cops.”

His tone told her she couldn’t argue. The others seemed to realize the sheer fury that was to face them, because none of them quibbed or even made a single noise. However, [F/N] couldn’t leave.

“I’m with the CIA,” she stated, her voice full of mock confidence, “I have to oversee the detainees, and clear this situation. I’m better suited for this. You should go.”

[F/N] was playing a dangerous game here. She had no idea how her father would react.

“This is my city--”

“And this is my mission.”

[F/N] stared at him. Now, standing in front of him, her father looked taller than ever. His shadow seemed to engulf her. She balled her hands and gritted her teeth. She refused to look away first.

As the sirens grew louder, Bruce finally gave in. He turned and began to walk away, but before he disappeared, he turned to her.

“We’ll talk later.”

When he was gone, [F/N] released the breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

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