#come on it’ll give you the chance to see my unknown technology in action

[coffeebooh]

orion, looking straight at raquel’s p****: “this is unknown technology”

[mishasminion360]

Space Age Love Song, Ch. 4

A Mandalorian x O/C Fic

Warnings: Language

Notes: Din and Sara play 20 questions.

You can now keep up with this story on AO3 as well! My username is SwiggitySwagNightmareStag. Happy reading, all!

Ch. 4: Answered

Sara left Din to eat breakfast in privacy. He couldn’t very well stuff his face with the helmet on, and he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t take it off in her presence, so, while he remained in the kitchen, she took her scrambled eggs and bacon into the living room. Alone again, naturally.

After they’d stuffed themselves silly, Sara washed and dried the dishes, and then practically dragged the Mandalorian back into the living room, eager to learn more about the intergalactic anomaly that was Din Djarin. She shoved him (gently, of course) onto the couch before curling up on the other end.

“Okay, here’s how this is going to work. You ask a question, I answer. Then I ask a question and you answer. See? Easy. Care to start us off?”

Din leaned back and folded his armored arms.

“Ladies first.”

“I see that chivalry is a thing on your planet, which I’m assuming is...Mandaloria?”

“Close. It’s called Mandalore. Does that count as your first question?”

“Sure.”

“My turn, then. What planet am I on now?”

“This is Earth, my friend. The only populated planet in the Milky Way Galaxy. As far as we earthlings know, anyway.”

Milky Way Galaxy? That was a solid 2.5 million light-years from his own. He had no idea he’d come so far, and he would be utterly amazed if he discovered that he hadn’t completely burned out his hyperdrive.

“And what galaxy is Mandalore a part of?”

Sara’s second question put an abrupt end to the calculations he was doing in his head. And he was honestly grateful for it.

“The Andromeda Galaxy.”

Sara let out a low whistle and started doing some calculating of her own.

“How the hell did you manage to get all the way here? Aren’t our galaxies, like, a crap ton of light-years apart? How did you get here so fast? How long have you been traveling to get here?”

“That’s more than one question.”

“Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. Did you want me to answer all of those now, or...”

“No, no. Rules are rules. You go ahead and ask your next question.”

“Alright. Where’s my ship?”

Sara looked past him to the back door and he attempted to follow her gaze.

“It’s, uh, in my backyard. In a crater. You came in pretty hot there, Din. Your ship’s a little banged up. It was on fire when I first found it, but I managed to put most of it out. There were a lot of flashing lights and alarms going off. I don’t know my way around alien technology, so I can’t tell you with any certainty if it’ll still run. I can say that it appears to be all in one piece. I think. I hope.”

Dank Farrik, Din cursed to himself. One problem after the next. If the Razor Crest Sequent was nothing but a pile of scrap now, this would be the second ship, and the third home, he’d lost.

“How did you end up here, Din?”

Once again she managed to rip him out of his own head. There was something about the way she said his name that had an almost soothing effect on his anxious mind. Something he liked.

“I....that is a long story.”

Sara crossed her arms and leaned back into the couch, getting comfy.

“I’ve got time.”

Din sighed. Where to begin? He didn’t even have all the details fleshed out himself, so how was he supposed to explain the situation to another?

“Mandalore was attacked by...well, I don’t know, to be honest with you. Just some random squadron of thugs. They appeared out of nowhere, demanding the king.”

“The king? Of Mandalore? You and your people have a freaking king?”

“You’re looking at him.”

Sara instantly went rigid. For once she was at a complete loss for words, and completely at a loss for what to do with herself. She’d never been in the presence of eminence and everything she knew about royalty she’d learned from Netflix and Disney films.

“You’re a....should-should I bow?”

“Please, don’t.”

Sara nodded for him to continue. Her face was expectant, excited. She was hanging on his every word as if his story were the edge of a cliff. She clung to his tale for dear life.

“Right, so, they came looking for me and I still don’t have any idea why. Needless to say that my people weren’t just going to surrender me to some unannounced, unknown individuals, so they chose to protect me in case this squadron turned out to be a threat.”

“Which they did, I’m guessing?”

“They were armed, but they were few and inexperienced. They couldn’t take my planet by force alone, but they could still cause some significant damage while trying. I didn’t want to see any of my people hurt because of me. Our clan had already been divided for far too long, our home nearly lost, I just wanted to choose a course of action that would keep the peace.”

Sara cocked her head to the side.

“You ran, didn’t you?”

“Yes. I thought if I could lure them away I could figure out their intentions. Or, at the very least, fly long enough to ditch them in hyperspace and return home.”

“And you never found out what they wanted?”

Din shook his head. This is the part of the story that still remained a mystery to him.

“No. The second they caught up to me they opened fire. I was able to make a few light speed jumps without taking any serious damage. But....well, you know the rest. Here I am.”

“And you don’t know where these creeps are now? Is there any chance that they may have followed you here?”

He had frightened her. He could see it in her eyes. Din had basically just admitted that he may or may not have just led a band of violent ruffians to her home planet.

“If they knew where I’d landed, they’d be here by now. I think I effectively gave them the slip.”

Sara sighed, a little too loudly, in relief. One spaceman was about as much as she could handle at the moment; she didn’t need more showing up on her doorstep. Especially not the dangerous kind. Din, at least, seemed gentle enough.

“They’re still out there searching. I’m sure of it. But I can’t just lay low forever. That’s never been my style. Especially not when I have people to protect. I left Mandalore in good hands for now but, king or not, it’s the only home that I have. I don’t....I wouldn’t know where else to go.”

Without even thinking, Sara leaned across the sofa, closing the little space between them, and grasped both of Din’s gloved hands in her own.

“I promise you, Din Djarin, I will do whatever it takes to get you home safely. Anything within my means.”

For a few silent moments they simply sat hand in hand, and time was irrelevant. It wasn’t until she heard Din swallow audibly that Sara realized that she was probably making him uncomfortable and she reluctantly released her grip.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure,” Sara croaked. “I’ve asked, like, what, 10 in a row by now? So much for ‘rules are rules’, huh?”

“Why did you help me?” Din asked, his voice the softest she’d heard it yet. “Why do you keep helping me? I have nothing to offer you in return.”

Din seemed to have a lot of trust issues, whether that stemmed from past personal experiences or just the Mandalorian creed, so Sara wanted to supply him with an honest answer. There was the logical honest answer, or the honestly honest answer. In the end she decided that the former would take a shorter amount of time to explain. And it would be far less depressing.

“Well, the easiest answer is that I’m a nurse, Din. And as a nurse I took an oath to help those in need. I intend to fully adhere to the terms of that oath even beyond the sanctity of hospital walls. You needed help, I gave it. Simple as that.”

Din saw it the second the warmth left Sara’s eyes and the hazel orbs grew distant. They shone with something sadly nostalgic, like two unreachable distant stars.

“And, quite frankly, you’re the first person, other than myself, to set foot in my house in a long, long time. I didn’t want my houseguest dying on me.” She disguised her sadness with a chuckle. Just barely.

Din suddenly found himself eager to ask her more questions, practically burning for it. Though they’d only just met, just opened up to each other, he knew that there was something that bonded them. A sensation that he couldn’t quite place, but that he knew all too well. He had to steel himself against this unbidden desire for knowledge; time was of the essence.

“Sara, would you take me to my ship?”

***

“Dank Farrik! Son of a Mudscuffer!!”

“Are those good alien words I’m hearing?”

“No, they’re kriffing not!”

“That one was a bad one, too. Got it.”

She stood just outside the ship’s open doorway, arms crossed and fighting off a childish grin, when she heard his angry, booted feet come thump thump thumping down the ramp. She turned to meet his gaze and, even with his helmet hiding his face from her sight, she could tell that he wasn’t amused in the slightest.

“I like the way you curse, Mando.”

He stared her down for a minute before trudging off. Yep, definitely not amused.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Sara called sprinting after him and snagging him by the arm. How could he move so fast with all that armor weighing him down?

“Can you fix it?”

Din heaved a heavy, frustrated sigh.

“It’ll take time. And parts. Neither of which I have.”

“But you can fix it. See, there’s a silver lining to this situation,” Sara said, punching him playfully in the arm. He didn’t respond, only stared, his helmeted face surveying her blankly.

“Look, you’re welcome to rummage through the old barn for spare parts,” Sara offered, gesturing to the decrepit old structure behind Din. “My gramps was a bit of a tinkerer, so he let a lot of tools and miscellaneous crap pile up in there over the years. My guess is if you need it, it’s in that barn. And whatever I don’t have, the hardware store will.”

Sara flexed her arms, giving him her best Schwarzenegger impression and a one way ticket to the “gun show”.

“I’m not too shabby when it comes to fixing up things myself. I’ve got my grandpa to thank for that, too. We’ll have your ship back in orbit before you can say ‘E.T. phone home’.”

“Why would I say that?”

“It’s...oh, never mind. Anyway, that being said, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. It’s no trouble.”

Din started to protest, but Sara shushed him with a finger to his helmet, pressing it to where she assumed his lips were hiding underneath.

“I want to get you home, Din. Home to your family. But I also want to make sure that you’re fully healed and well rested before you go. This is ‘nurse Sara’ talking, and she is not to be trifled with.”

Then the Mandalorian did something unexpected. Something wonderful. Something Sara had begun to assume it impossible for him to do.

He laughed.

And it made her heart beat a little faster.

“Fair enough,” Din said. “And...thank you. Again.”

“You’re welcome,” Sara responded. She said it so softly that she wasn’t even certain that she’d actually said it out loud.

“Can I check out that barn now?”

Sara folded her arms and nodded, suddenly feeling like a mother sending her child into a Toys ‘R’ Us unsupervised.

“Knock yourself out. Better sooner than later, while you still have daylight.”

He turned and left her without another word. But he walked away slowly.

And Sara was left to watch him wander, the sound of his laugh still echoing in her ears. It may have been unfair to assume, but she figured she’d never hear such a sound coming from the stoic Din Djarin. Now that she had, it became the only sound she wanted to hear.

@just-another-dumb-artist @mamacitapascal @grimeylady @rav3n-pascal22 @obsessivelysearching @insomniamamma @cixrxb @mandolydian @lv7867 @calliedjarin @mando-pamine

[lorem-text]

Painting with Brushstrokes of Code

An art as old as computers themselves, programming has spiked in recent years following the creation of countless new languages, each one with more specific uses than the other. These languages make up the bedrock of computer science. However, a language is nothing but words and letters without its speaker. In the same way, programming languages are little more than aimless lines and numbers without a programmer. Even so, the programmers who use these languages - Java, Python, C++ - to create programs and software rarely get as much recognition as the languages themselves. So, what does the life of a programmer, a true scholar of computer science, look like?

To answer that question, we met with John; a young programmer stationed in L.A., who agreed to tell us a little about his experience in the world of bits and bytes.

“[…] I always loved computers. When I was a kid, I made a lot of mods and crap; they were really bad, but everyone’s first attempt at anything is bad.”

Ever since he was young, technology called to John like a siren’s song. His journey into the life of a programmer started with video games, through mods and developer consoles. However, it wasn’t until high school that he got really into programming after taking an Intro to Java class.

John would then go on to study programming in college with a focus on software development, and that would in time jump-start the series of events which have led him to where he is today.

“Programming isn’t fun all the time, but I like sitting by myself and just typing up a script and seeing what I can do with it.”

The work of a programmer is by no means all fun and games. A single program that appears simple on the outside may require many sleepless nights and empty coffee pots to run properly, and success is rarely a given regardless of a programmer’s experience.

Despite the struggles that come with programming, however, John’s passion for his work shows no signs of abating, and understandably so.

I can tell you from experience, no matter how many times you do it, the joy of writing some dozen lines of code and watching them transform into a program never really goes away.

Still, getting where he is now hasn’t been smooth sailing for John. Circumstances in his personal life caused him to leave Ohio, which in turn forced him to drop out of university. He move to Los Angeles with his aunt and uncle, where he tried to apply for a different university, but to no avail. So, with what knowledge he had, he started working as a freelancer.

Still, that wasn’t the end for John. Some time after his move to L.A., a chance encounter with an extraordinary man would turn John’s luck around. With the man’s guidance and the support of his aunt and uncle, John directed his energy towards his second greatest passion, and the very thing that led him down this path in the first place; video games.

“The thing I’ve always wanted to do the most was design software, […] but I never got that chance, so I’m happy with settling with my second favorite thing: games.”

Currently, John is working on an indie action horror rpg, inspired in equal parts by his life and his imagination. The main concept is classified and unavailable to the public, but we were allowed a sneak peak and let me tell you, I would definitely sign up as an Alpha tester if I had the time.

John has undertaken the project by himself, and is currently looking for additional help with AI programming and graphics and model design. We have put up an advertisement on the Night Owl magazine as well as our official blog, which you can find at lorem-text.tumblr.com.

There is a long way to go until the game is released, and the launch date for the Beta is as of yet unknown, but we are hoping for an update on the game’s progress sometime within the year.

Finally, we asked John what advice he would give to aspiring programmers and software developments, to which he replied with this:

“Don’t lose your passion for it. It’ll get boring, it might seem helpless, but you can do amazing [things] and you should keep working at it! […] Don’t give up EVER and don’t forget how to have fun.”

An inspiring piece of advice that’s applicable to all walks of life and has undoubtedly followed John throug his life thus far

Overall, John is a brilliant young man whose passion infects and inspires those around him much like it has us and we hope to see much more from him in the coming years.

Eliot Wilde, journalist and writer for Night Owl and host of Night Owl FM

[crystalldragon]

proving it

"“Hey, Vetra,” Elly takes her hands in Vetra’s, two fingers pressing against five, and smiles up at her. “I’m always here for you, both of you. As I’ve said. I really care. I mean it.”

A collection of moments telling the story of Elly Ryder and Vetra Nyx, a human and a turian falling in love inmidst a new and unknown galaxy.”

here's how elly ryder looks like in case you're interested

8 chapters (6,128 words)

ao3 link | or read it down below ↓

—1—

Finding a new home in the Andromeda galaxy and building a civilization. That was their original mission. No one had expected to find all their so called “golden worlds” to be inhabitable. Much less to get thrown onto one of these worlds and have their Pathfinder Alec Ryder dying to save his daughter, Elly Ryder.

Simply waking up after 600 years of deep sleep was difficult enough. But then dealing with the loss of their expected home and her dad? That’s too much for Elly. The worst part of it all: she’s supposed to be the new Pathfinder. She’s supposed to deal with everything – exploring new worlds, setting up outposts and leading the Initiative project to its original goal. This new kind of responsibility is crushing, and it will take a lot of time to get used to it.  

And this isn’t the only thing she’ll have to get used to. Now, she also has her own ship with her own crew. A crew that fully believes in her and her abilities. It’s more than she could’ve ever come up with in her wildest daydreams. Sure, she’d dreamt of having her own ship, just sailing around in space and discovering new things. But this is bigger than all of that – and at what price did it come? Was all the pain this journey had brought so far really worth it?

This is no time for doubt or weakness though. She has to be strong. For her crew. For the sleeping humans on the Hyperion. For her brother. For her father. He had done so much for this project and she knows how much he wanted it. After several fights in their family, in the end, all of them had agreed to it and had even looked forward to this new start in a faraway galaxy. Even though it meant leaving everything they’ve ever known behind. Their home, their friends, the view outside of their favorite café, the visits to the National Space Museum and so on. They would never see the Earth again, nor would they see the Citadel or Eden Prime or anything of the Milky Way ever again. And since communication between the two galaxies would take very long, they also wouldn’t hear anything from the Milky Way, at least not in their lives. Their only hope concerning that is to raise a new generation in Andromeda which can someday, hopefully receive a message from the Milky Way.

She’s so lost in thought she barely registers Cora’s voice behind her. “This is it, Ryder. The Tempest is yours. Unless you’ve got something to say for the log?”

There is a whole galaxy of currently inhabitable planets, a mysterious thing called “the Scourge” and other possible dangers ahead. But as she stares out the windows at the bridge, she can’t help but believe there is still hope out there. Of all these possible worlds they could discover, there has to be one for them to live on. The Miky Way has them. Earth. Thessia. Palaven. Sur’Kesh. Now it’s on her and her crew to find their counterparts in the Andromeda galaxy. The following words coming out of her only feel natural.

“We were all expecting a golden world. A home where we could start over and fullfill our dreams. Now there’s just a long road ahead. But hold on to those dreams. We will get there.”

 —2—

Vetra Nyx has been on the run all her life. Home always felt like hell – well, what had she’d called “home” in the beginning. Her parents fought all day long, not giving a care about her, much less her newborn sister, Sidera. One day, while feeding Sid, she’d overheard them screaming at each other again and after hearing a loud thud, she’d looked out the window to see her mother running away. Whatever it was her father did… her mother and all the others erased their existence from their minds. Her dad snatched her and Sid, and they left Palaven together. Time passed and soon enough, their dad became increasingly overwhelmed by the task of taking care of them. It all went downhill until… even he left and never came back. She and Sid were completely left alone, no guidance, no money, no family but each other. It was time the two left just the same – and so it came she and her sister sneaked into the next ship leaving not too far away from their settlement. It was a risky endeavor of course, she had no idea where they were going, but at that time everywhere was better than where they currently were. For the following few years, Vetra kept the only family left to her alive by doing all sorts of jobs. Kesh, one of her clients, hired Vetra a handful of times to retrieve things for her. The tasks got bigger one after the other, and after Vetra gingerly asked her what she was doing with all this, Kesh introduced her to the Initiative.

Up to that, her whole life had been anything but easy. She never had room to think much about what she wanted – everything was about getting money for food and shelter and taking care of her sister. It was surviving, not living. Even though their time at the Nexus wasn’t exactly easy either, it was closer to living than what was before.

And now her life is the closest it has ever been to living instead of surviving. She has a stable home – the Tempest. She has a place and a job here and she has people around her she can (somewhat) trust. And most importantly: her little sister is safe and sound on the Nexus. Sure, things are pretty messy right now and looking somewhat grim, but at least her only family is with her in this chaotic new galaxy. It’ll take months, probably even years or decades, to get this project fully working. Lots of heated discussions and unnecessary fights will happen before the first planet is ready to be colonized. Even more than anticipated, since now it’s not only a lot of red tape but there’s also the question of how to repair the damage the Scourge has caused. If there’s one person who can manage all of that, it’s gonna be Elly Ryder. Vetra isn’t one to quickly trust people, but this woman is an exception, and the turian will make sure she knows just how important she is.

―

“We’ve been failing for months, Ryder. Now that we have you, we have a chance out here.” It’s the truth. The Nexus is a giant mess. Three lazy ass diplomats sitting around and arguing isn’t going to change a single thing. No, it’s about time someone takes action. Now they’ve got a Pathfinder, maybe not the one they wanted, but probably the one they need. The people on the Nexus can complain all they want, Vetra is already convinced the Pathfinder’s, no, Ryder’s arrival means the return of what they’ve had lost so long ago: hope.

“Wow, that’s some laser focus,” Ryder answers, smirking and leaning against the boxes taking up most of the space in her small room.

Vetra takes a step back. Is that meant to be a joke or is she serious?

“Yeah… Was it too much? Some people get intimidated.”

Ryder walks up to her, the smirk never leaving her face, instead growing even more prominent. “I’m not just some people. I really like the intensity.”

Oh. Now that’s new. She already figured out Ryder is a very… honest person but this is… unexpected, still. She isn’t used to someone complimenting her ambitions so earnestly. The people she used to work for were always rather ungrateful to her. Even on the Nexus, where she had done much work for the Tempest, no one was really that nice to her. People were much more focused on themselves.

“That’s good. It’s nice to feel… appreciated.”

Vetra mentally slaps herself. That’s about the lamest answer she could’ve given to something so huge. Or maybe it isn’t huge. Maybe she isn’t special at all, and it’s just that Ryder is fascinated by people in general. Yeah, it’s probably that. Better let this all go. She turns around and walks over to her desk, where her datapad is still lying with her mails open.

“I should track down a lead for Gil’s actuators. Back channels, you know?”

Ryder nods and slowly walks backwards in the direction of the door while still looking at the tall, slender woman sitting down at the desk.

“We’ll chat later, then,” she says, leaving the room with a slight blush appearing on her face.

 —3—

“Hey Ryder, what’s up?” Vetra contacts Ryder over the comms. No answer. With a sigh, she hops out of the Nomad and walks towards the cliff Ryder is standing on. They’d been searching through the Remnant caves of Havarl and for the last few minutes, Ryder has gotten awfully quiet while driving the Nomad to their next destination. Usually, Ryder would have something to say about everything. During their travels with the vehicle she commented on so many things, it was almost like she was moderating her own show. Sometimes the squad was annoyed by this, but Vetra found it cute nonetheless. Ryder has to endure so much, and yet she radiates delight and curiosity. Vetra still wonders how she manages to do that.

“Ryder?” she calls again. There’s a chasm before them, made out of Remnant technology. They’ve been here before, cleaned up some enemies, but they haven’t done anything further. “Are you okay?” she asks, coming to a halt beside her. The red-haired woman turns her head and looks at her with a blank face.

“You can talk to me, you know,” Vetra reassures her, not knowing what else to say.

Ryder nods and a few seconds pass before she quietly sighs and answers.

“Sometimes it hurts, you know. The… thing with my dad, I mean. I’ve always looked up to him. Sure, he was rough but he was… still is my dad and I love him. But the more I realize he’s gone now, the more I also realize how much I didn’t know about him. He never really told me about his work. Not even about the parts that were not classified. SAM told me there are still many memory fragments left to discover. He feels like my dad but at the same time like a total stranger. And I don’t want to be mad at him, but I am mad at him for leaving us behind. I know it’s not his fault but…” her voice cracks and the tears that have built up in her eyes spill over. This is so unlike her usual calm and happy composure, and Vetra is not quite sure how to deal with it. She had to calm down a sad or angry Sid a couple of times, but never a crying Elly Ryder.

“But… it still hurts,” Ryder finishes, the tears still rolling down her cheeks. “God, I’m so sorry, Vetra.” She shakes her head, as if to tell herself to stop crying. Neither of them say anything as Vetra searches for the right words and the silence becomes more and more uncomfortable. Eventually, Ryder excuses herself again and wants to go back to the Nomad, but Vetra grasps her hip with her large hand.

“Ryder…” she takes a deep breath in and looks down, not daring to look into her glistering eyes. “I know how you feel. I felt the same way about my dad. To this day I don’t know why he left, only that he did and we weren’t ready for it. So…” she looks into her eyes now and holds on tight to her with both of her hands. “You are not alone.”

Ryder says nothing and just nods instead, and Vetra can see a slight smile making its way onto her lovely face. How could she be so vulnerable and so beautiful at the same time?

“Thank you,” is the only thing Ryder does say in the end. Vetra feels a gloved hand touching her cheek softly and this time she can clearly see the bittersweet smile beneath her many freckles.

They stand there for a few moments until Ryder gets out of her embrace and slowly walks back to where they came from. She turns around and calls after the tall woman. “You coming, Vetra?”

“I’m right behind you, Ryder,” Vetra says, even though she’s standing right where Ryder left her, the tingling sensation on her cheek still present. A quiet rumble leaves her throat and with big steps she follows her into the Nomad again.

—4—

The Nexus, though a place full of bureaucracy, is probably the safest place to be for the Milky Way species in Andromeda.

One can spend a lot of time watching Ryder dashing through the Nexus, running from place to place and handling one task after another. Sometimes she’d stop for a second, get lost in her thoughts, and then utter a small “oh!” and quickly walk towards her next destination. She is always on and about. It’d be almost sweet if it weren’t so worrisome. If Vetra were to be a little more bold and brave, she’d just grab Ryder, give her a proper meal and make sure she gets enough sleep. That’s what she’d do to Sid. But Ryder is not her little sister. She has to take care of herself, and as much as Vetra wants to help, she also doesn’t want to be a bother to her.

“Hey, my favorite turian,” Ryder’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts about said person.

“Hey, Ryder,” she answers, and gets greeted by a pout on the humans face. “What?”

“Y’know, you could… call me Elly. Since I call you by your first name, too.”

“Everybody calls me by my first name,” Vetra says, ignoring her request. Sure, she isn’t a good turian, but she isn’t gonna be that respectful and speak to her commander so… casually.

“So what?” She furrows her eyebrows and puts on something Vetra interprets as a pleading face, one Vetra has trouble not to give in to. “Please?”

“All right, Ryder… uh… Elly.”

The human woman squeals in delight and hugs her forcefully.

“Hey…” Vetra protests, surprised by the feeling of Elly’s body pressed against hers. “The others…”

A disinterested grunt comes out of Elly as response and she stands there for some time, hugging her quietly before stepping back and looking at her. “So how are you?”

“That’s what I should be asking you,” Vetra retorts, the worries from ealier entering her mind again.

“No talking about me, I want to know about you.”

You can’t get Elly to talk about herself when she doesn’t want to, so Vetra tries to make her feel good otherwise.

“Well… I wanted to thank you again. For helping me with Sid.”

Elly gives her a puzzled look. They’ve talked about this before, but at that time, Vetra was somewhat angry with Sid. She still is, to be honest, but by far not as much as she was before. Sid is still a kid, and Vetra raised her like her own child, but she has to let her do her own things, step by step. At least, now they’re not alone anymore. They have lots of people by their side, helping and supporting them, especially Elly. And they have lots of things to do to get to the goals of the Andromeda initiative. Everyone can and should play their part in that. Even her sister.

“I thought about it some more and…” she tries to explain, “I’m just… thankful. You’re here for us. And you care.”

“Hey, Vetra,” Elly takes her hands in Vetra’s, two fingers pressing against five, and smiles up at her. “I’m always here for you, both of you. As I’ve said. I really care. I mean it.”

“Elly…” Her voice has grown somewhat frantic, and she’s so embarrassed, but tries to not let it show. Just as she tries to not show the surprise at the sudden constraining feeling in her heart. It feels like falling and flying at the same time. She’s speechless. Once again. How can this woman say and do such things to her?

“We’ll, uh, meet on the ship, then,” Elly says, letting go of her hands and slowly walking away towards the ship docks. Vetra already misses the warmth of their hands pressed together and wonders, just for a brief moment, if Elly might feel the same.

—5—

According to SAM, it is the only thing they can do to get them out of the Archon’s grip – killing Ryder. The Archon had put stasis fields around them, which would only respond to living signals. And SAM couldn't find any other solutions besides the most horrible one to exist.

Vetra can barely manage any fitting words for the anger and disbelief she feels right now. “Ryder... you’re crazy.”

“Um… just in case: It was nice, knowing you all.” Peebee, the young adventurous asari, sounds so casual, just like most times, but Vetra can hear the slight tremble in her voice betraying her poise. Peebee is probably just as bad as she is with feelings, though right now Vetra's sure they are both crushed by the sudden fear overwhelming them.

“All right… Do it,” Elly’s voice holds the same amount of fear in it.

The two look up at her and all of Vetra's blood seems to freeze in her veins at those words. Elly is absolutely unbelievable, facing death with a readiness unlike anyone else. She and her brother were the only ones left of her family, she has once told her. Vetra knew that feeling all too well, given that it's only her and her sister left. Despite that fact, Elly is prone to jumping into danger at first hand. And Vetra would be lying if she said it didn’t bug her. Too many times she had to stifle an upset or worried comment after Elly had stormed recklessly into a group of Kett or driven the Nomad too close to the edge of a deep abyss. But this outdoes everything.

“Stopping your heart now.” The immobilizing field around her disappears, and her limbless body drops before them. Vetra is convinced her heart has just stopped beating together with Ryder's heart. Maybe SAM is an enemy after all and just got them here to kill them altogether. No, no, no, no… Everything that's left to her is the image of Ryder lying there, and she shuts her eyes, trying to burn the image away. Being trapped in a stasis field until her death suddenly feels like an easier option than to see Ryder dead right in front of her without her being able to do something.

“Stimulating the cardiovascular system…” SAM’s usually soothing voice rings in her ears, and she would love to punch it for doing this to Ryder, which is of course impossible given that SAM has no body to begin with and she is immobilized anyway.

“Zero activity.”

“SAM…” she just says instead in the most threatening manner she could. If this doesn’t work… she’s either gonna die too or travel to the edge of the galaxy and live there alone for the rest of her life.

The same announcement from before comes again. “Stimulating the cardiovascular system…”

The next few seconds that pass are filled with silence which seems to stretch endlessly long, so long that Vetra swears she could feel every atom of her body slowly deceasing. Not even the most intense and life-threatening fights she has been in have anything on the soul-crushing fear she feels right now. Her mind is replaying her life in a flash, as if she’s dying herself, but it all gets stuck at Elly Ryder. She’d do anything to hear her laugh, see her cute face with the many freckles and touch her smooth red hair, just one more time…

And then, suddenly, one deep breath is what it takes to restore all the life inside her. She opens her eyes, which she had closed unintentionally because she couldn’t bear to look at the lifeless body of her commander, her friend, of … whatever they were. Ryder is laying there with open eyes, coughing wildly. After she’s catched her breath, she picks up her assault rifle and gets up on wobbly legs.

“Ryder…” The only word that's left to Vetra. Her subharmonics are filled with fear, and she's glad the other two can’t hear it – though they probably know how smitten she is anyway.

“I'm okay. I'm okay,” Ryder repeats, mostly to herself and walks over to the console to free her teammates, seeming a little more like a lost soul than a living being. She taps some buttons and looks at her squad mates with a weary smile and a thumbs up. Vetra can’t remember what the gesture is for – is it something positive or negative? The thought leaves her mind as soon as it entered because now she and Peebee are freed as well.

She opens her mouth to ask if Elly really is okay, but leaves it be. Now is not the time for talking. They have an Archon to hunt down.

—6—

“I think I've had enough of dying for one lifetime.” Elly sinks her hands into her bedsheets, imagining they were her brain and she could sink her flesh like claws into her memories and erase parts of them – between her practically dying twice, the Exaltation, the Jaardan – it’s too much.

“Pathfinder, I want to remind you I would have done anything else had there been another possibility available. We may be both aware there was not anything else left for me to do, but even so I am sorry. This situation was just another proof that my powers are not unlimited,” SAM said in private.

“Thank you, but I don't need any condolences. Especially not from you, a machine without real feelings.”

“Though I do not have any real feelings as you may have, I have spent a long time among humans and other species, long enough so I can roughly understand the concept of these feelings, Pathfinder,” SAM replies.

“Fuck – Look, SAM, I do not want to talk about it right now, okay?!”

“Understood, Pathfinder.”

She buries her head in one of the pillows. SAM calling her Pathfinder after every sentence just makes everything worse. But she is right, isn't she? SAM isn’t capable of feeling what she is currently feeling, so its understanding words were just empty words. She lays down flat on her bed and feels her eyes water. Shit. Thinking about this was just the last straw. There's so much – too much – on her mind and the Archon and his army are still alive and there are no habitable planets for their people – well she has activated the Monoliths on Eos, Voeld and Havarl and the conditions there have gotten better, but this victory was only temporary with the Kett still at large.

“Pathfinder?” SAM’s voice pops up again.

Elly groans loudly to voice her disapproval, letting out a “What?!” in the most annoyed tone she could manage.

“Vetra Nyx is requesting access to your quarters.”

She rolls around on her bed. Is adding Vetra to the mush that is her negative thoughts right now a good idea? The only thing she is capable of right now is complaining about how bad her situation is. Everything in her screams to let her go, but even so the opposite leaves her mouth.

“Okay.”

The doors open to reveal the brown-beige face and the purple markings she has grown to love. Vetra isn't wearing her armor – she is wearing something that resembles a turian pyjama.

“Hey, Elly,” she sits down on the bed and Elly feels her weight pushing down the mattress. Not daring to say anything or even look at her, Elly just stays unmoving on the bed.

“Are you okay?” She's slowly gotten accustomed to the subharmonics in Vetra's voice, and right now she's sure there's worry resonating in them. It’s a honest question, though Vetra isn’t one to push someone into answering.

“No,” she says at last. “Vetra… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” the turian woman takes off her boots and lays down next to Elly. Her copper hair is sprawled all across the pillow and she runs a talon through the soft strads. Upon this, a small smile appears on Elly’s face and she turns around, facing the other. Vetra notices her swollen eyes and begins to grow more worried. Simultaneously, Elly’s smile disappears again and she opens her mouth.

“How do you deal with all the bad memories?”

Vetra stops her movements and looks her dead in the eyes. That question is so vague and difficult to answer… nothing she’ll say will be of help, probably. But she’ll try anyway.

“Uh… first: making new, good memories. Second: talking about the bad ones and third: try to resolve them if possible. I guess that about sums it up?”

Elly hums. “Well, I don’t see you doing the latter two.”

“Hmpf. Doesn’t make my advice any less helpful, does it?”

“Probably not.” There’s that grin again. The one that lights up her face and makes her cute freckles stand out even more inmidst her puffy cheeks. The one that Vetra has grown to love. She’d like to say something about how beautiful she thinks Elly is, but is sure it’d be inappropiate right now, especially considering she still doesn’t know… what they actually are. By now, she’s sure Elly has been flirting with her on one or two occassions. But Vetra is the last one to believe Elly actually likes her, of all people. Everyone loves Elly, and Elly loves everyone. She’s a sweetheart to almost everyone (except for her enemies, of course) and she might as well has found another person she’d rather be with.

“Vetra?” Elly’s quiet voice pulls her out of her thought process. It sounds so… foreign. Fragile. “Can you… stay here, for a while?”

“Of course. Anything for you,” she answers and she means it. Vetra has done many things for other people before, but only for money. But for Elly, she’d gladly do anything for free. She could give and give and give simply because this woman deserves that much. She has seen so much, but has never given up, always getting up and continuing the fight. Though she can be fierce, she still has a soft heart. Shit, Vetra thinks, and feels her heart tighten in her chest.

“In that case… can you hold me… just for a bit?” Her voice is still nothing more than a whisper. Vetra isn’t sure if her mind is playing games or if there’s really a blush adorning her cheeks. In any case, she’s quick to oblige and puts her arms around the much smaller body of Elly Ryder. With a content sigh, the human buries her head into her chest and through the thin fabric, Vetra can feel her nose, cheeks and lips press into her chest plates. It’s more than anything she could’ve hoped for. A two-fingered hand reaches up and strokes her hair, continuing until she hears a quiet snore.

Vetra isn’t sure if she’s allowed to stay, but she isn’t going to wake up a sleeping Elly Ryder either, so she decides to stay right where she is.

—7—

Vetra hears a small giggle coming from Elly and before she can turn her attention to her, she hears the loud poof of her jump-jet and more giggling as she dashes up to the top of the mountain.

“Hey!” Vetra calls after her. “I said no jump jets!”

She grins to herself as she hears Elly laughing freely, a sound she hasn’t heard from her in a while, and she can’t help but laugh with her. If she could get Elly to let loose for just one second, then the trip was already worth it. Though she also has another card up her sleeve.

“Looks like you’re having fun,” Vetra says as she reaches the top, taking a second to look around and admire the view herself. Of course, she’d taken Elly here to show her the amazing view, but also to talk to her. The knowledge that Elly is trusting her so much to let her worries go gives her an extra amount of hope for what is about to happen.

She walks over to where Elly is flat on the ground and lays down beside her, both still out of breath from climbing and laughing.

“Hey… Is this real?” she asks, not clarifying what she means on purpose. Vetra wants to know if Elly already knows. They have been flirting pretty regularly by now, but she still isn’t sure if Elly means any of it. Vetra is somewhat used to people flirting with her, but not because they like her. No, because they only want to use something of her, whether it’s her gun skills, her persuading manner, or her craftsmanship. People never want her, as a person. So when the compassionate and understanding Elly Ryder started flirting with her, of all people, she got… confused. Did she care that much for her? If she really did, it would change everything. Not only had Vetra found a new purpose on the Tempest, she had also found a home, and maybe now, a home in another person. Turians were taught to just accept the flow of life, but for the past weeks she kept wondering – what would it be like, having a quiet home with a loving partner? After spending all her life running, not daring to think upon the possibility of a home, much less a person to share it with besides her sister, now she considered if this was actually something she’d want.

And if Elly doesn’t reciprocate her feelings… then she is fine with that too. She is fine for as long as she can stay by her side. No matter what the answer is, she will respect it.

“Hmmm… I think the sky looks real. Could be, no, should be real,” Elly answers, still out of breath.

“Haha,” Vetra utters a fake laugh. From the corner of her eyes, Vetra could see Elly turning her head to her direction.

“I mean… this. How you are towards me. It's like you… care.” And for emphasis she nudges the back of her hand against Elly’s in the lightest of touches.

“… More than a friend.” Only now does she notice how deep she's breathing and she's not sure if it's left over exhaustion from the climbing or from how close they are right now, alone, out here in the messed up but perfect world.

“I don't mind if it's ‘no'. I just want to make sure. It gets messy otherwise,” she adds hastily. The last thing she wants is to assault Elly with this. Although she has to admit, she would actually mind it a little. Now that she has had a first taste of what could be – just the two of them, fooling around, making life in Andromeda a little bit brighter, filling each other's hearts – it's a sweet little thought. One she's growing more fond of than she'd like to admit.

But all these thoughts are put to stop by what follows. Elly takes her hand, which had been laying flat open like an invitation, into her own, entwining their fingers in a firm but pleasant grip. The next words coming out of Elly sound so delicate, so vulnerable, as if she's telling the universe’s biggest secret only for her ears to hear.

“I do care about you. A lot. More than a friend.”

It comes off as so simple, but it throws Vetra off, so much she doesn't know how to answer, so she chooses to just voice her surprise.

“Really? I didn't want to assume. It seemed so unlikely...”

She doesn’t even get to finish her babbling because suddenly, something absolutely miraculous happens.

Elly leans over her, cups her face and presses their lips together, like that ‘kissing’ thing humans do. The kiss is just like her – soft but with a fierceness beneath. Something that leaves Vetra aching for more.

“And how’s that for proving it?” She asks and her voice sounds sweeter than the sweetest wine Vetra has ever tasted.

“I’m convinced,” she answers, not trusting herself to say more, instead leaning in to kiss her again. Of course, she has heard several things about kissing, but she never really spared it a thought. Turians don’t usually kiss – their hard mouth plates would turn that into a rather difficult task. But with Elly… she could get use to this kissing thing.

—8—

“Hey, Vetra.”

Elly kisses her in the space between her mandibles and her carapace, tasting the supple leather-like skin. Vetra grumbles, her subharmonics signaling that she's listening. The Tempest hasn’t gone on as many adventures as before, leaving them with plenty of time to fool around in the lounge – or in Ryder’s private quarters.

“You’re preetty,” Elly traces her purple marks and places several kisses along them. The hand that’s resting on her hip grips her a little bit tighter at that, and she can hear another faint rumble coming from the turian. It’s cute how all it takes to get a strong woman like Vetra flustered is to call her pretty, Elly thinks. Vetra isn’t one to give up so easily, though.

“Uh huh,” she chuckles. “How about you say something more meaningful, babe?”

“That was meaningful!” Elly complains and lets her hands roam over the others carapace and even further along her body. Some minutes continue like this until Vetra grips her hips and pins Elly under her with a loud creak of their bed. As they look into each others eyes, her mandibles flutter and she leans in to kiss her but Elly stops her, placing her hand against her chestplate.

“Wait! I do have an important question!”

Vetra grumbles but stays silent, waiting for her to continue.

“Since the bad guy is defeated now… when do I get my magic sword?”

“I told you I don’t have one,” she chuckles darkly and leans further in, practically speaking into her ear, “And besides, you didn’t even win. You cheated, remember?”

“Oh, even so,” Elly replies, “You should have enough contacts to get hold of one, right?”

Vetra moves away from her side and looks at her face again. Her hands trace the soft skin on her cheeks, relishing the warm feeling on her fingers. “Why exactly would you like to have this ‘magic sword’ and what is it anyway?”

“A sword is an ancient weapon humans once used. It’s like this very long piece of metal and you can stab your enemies with it. And if it’s magic, well… it’s magic.”

Vetra looks at her in confusion, not quite sure of what use this weapon would be. She isn’t too informed about human history, so she doesn’t know how exactly it was supposed to be used.

“Well, nowadays they’re mostly used in ceremonials or plays,” Elly tries to expand on the meaning of swords. Laughing, she adds, “We could play princess and uh… princess. Or use it on our wedding ceremony. As a symbol, the proof of our love.”

“You’re crazy,” Vetra says, still not unterstanding what was up with this ‘sword’. Elly grins in return and places a quick kiss on her lip plates.

“So, are you gonna prove it or not? That you love me.”

Vetra lets out a deep rumble through her subharmonics, pressing Elly harder on the bedsheets. Her nails scratch along her chin, digging into her skin. “I’m sure there are… other ways to prove that.”

“Hmm,” Elly presses longing kisses on her lips, pulling her closer to her body until the turian is laying on top of her. “I’m not aversed to that.”

Her hands tug on the thin, grey fabric on Vetra’s body, as she does the same to her. In between kisses, Elly starts giggling loudly, making Vetra pause and look at her.

“You’re surely good at proving. I still want that sword, though.”

“You little minx,” Vetra laughs with her, and together, they fall into oblivion once more, finding the warmth in each other.

Maybe there is someone with a magic sword in the Andromeda galaxy after all. Who knows? And if there is, Vetra will do anything to get to them. Because she is good at proving her love for Elly Ryder, just as it is the same the other way around.

[move2rabldcur]

i really wish they didn’t downplay hux’s intelligence and had him killed , like he’s a canon 9.5/10 in smarts , he would’ve known that not leaving with finn and poe would be a DEATH sentence , god the absolute missed chance of having the space nazi as a strategic hostage like... am i the only one? he’s your muse, what do you think about it?

Don’t call him a nazi then go on about him getting on the Falcon in the same ask it makes me feel dirty, call fascists what they are but don’t be uwu space nazi, alright man?

I made this blog with no plans for a redemption arc like he blew the Hosnian system that’s a lot of people died and scattered across the Galaxy without a place to call home, Hosnian is nothing more than asteroid belt now. I don’t think that’ll ever be something that’s just forgiven easily so if he were to get on the Falcon with rest of our intrepid heroes that would be a start redemption arc I’m not 100% sure I want to see, he’s a good villain and him maybe slipping more into the role of chaotic neutral where it’s just “I don’t care about the villains, I don’t care for the heroes, I’m here for me.” so he’s not really on anybody’s side but his own I feel like it’s a good middle ground.

Yeah, he would have been great to give strategies or to improve qualities of ships and weaponry, he could have been the one to explain The Sith fleet since they’re now utilizing the technology he came up with for Starkiller base so he’d know it fairly well and give us actual explanations but that movie had no explanations what-so-ever due to it being a clutter mess, therefore he would be an anomaly, also wayyy too many characters someone they had to kill someone off to introduce another. I mean the lie he gave to Pryde wasn’t too bad but it could have been better, I just don’t think he’d get on the Falcon willingly he was born into the empire it’s his way of life, a dogshit way of life, but a way of life nonetheless, he’s fine with betraying Ren but to actually runaway from the Order that would be a little much for him, I mean there was a chance of him maintaining control and power and he took it and died for hubris.

I know I said Armitage would not be forgiven but guess what that’s not a necessarily an ingredient for redemption, it helps, sure but the definition of redemption is; the action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil. Guess what he’s living with his mistakes now babbyyyy 

For big war crimes, come big long roads to redemption and here how I would do it personally. 

A good redemption arc for Hux would be him learning better and doing better, again 9.5 intelligence, none of this “I fell in love so I’m chill now” (in general thing not dunking on Ren) or death =  redemption that movies love to do. Here are the questions I have asked myself, what would make this a good arc:

1 (Where should this arc start?

2 (What would he have to learn?

3 (How much he’d have to change?

1 (Where should this arc start?: I know I already said he’d not get on the Falcon willingly but getting on the Falcon is the best place to start, maybe Finn or Poe rolled higher than a 2 on their persuasion check, maybe they took him as a hostage to make sure they won’t be shot down (bad plan tbh everyone is treated as expendable in the first order) maybe Finn recalls something about how Hux grew up in the unknown regions so they take him for information purposes (I keep seeing people say they are gonna tortured for info but the Resistance is not the Empire and that’s a war crime they would never; Hux is the kind of guy you just have to annoy enough and he’ll cave like chill out.)  Either way, get him on that ship. Him being on the Falcon forces him into a spot where his survival relies on our heroes survival, so his reasoning to help is selfish which would be in character. 

I agree with what was said about him in the back of that one comic, he’s not justified in any way but he is a product of his environment and he needs to get away from there to have a chance at change.

I don’t think Hux would get along with Chewie, but seeing him playing a game of dejarik with him would be great. I think it’ll take some time for him and BB8 to get along with one another; I see BB8 rolling over his feet constantly. C3p0 and Hux would agree on a lot of things since Poe and Finn keep wanting to do bad ideas and both of them would be stressed the fuck out. D-O abused droid meets abused man, love it. 

2 (What would he have to learn?: For starters to embrace individuality. The First Order is so divided of individuality on purpose, they strip you of all singularity and make you earn it through rank, sure he didn’t have it as bad most of the troops because he was Brendol’s son and most the troops viewed him as spoiled (Archex) despite him being abused, maybe they didn’t know, maybe these kids were just used to violence that they don’t know better and that it is wrong to treat your child the way Brendol did, most of these troops were taken away when they were babies so they have no sense of family. Individuality is something Hux learned to fear and to learned to suppress, I don’t think there is an off-work Armitage I think there’s only General Hux which is why he’s an obsessive workaholic with sleep issues; The Order doesn’t need or want him to be a person they need him to lead and inspire their army. We can show his progress with interactions Finn, Hux just keeps calling him Fn-2187, Finn get rightfully upset with him and have that conflict there until around the end of the movie and Hux actually start using his name. If you want this to be a Gingerpliot ship fic you could have Poe help him explore elements of himself like things he likes, how to relax, or his sexuality. Hux being a 34/35 virgin, guess what, not much experimentation happening there, and Poe the space himbo is the right man for every man and woman, he’s bi in my mind.

Something else he has to learn is how to form non-professional relationships, you know how to have casual friends and how to interact with others in a non-military way and to learn to trust other people. He needs to learn how to be a person so bad I can’t stress this enough.

The last thing is learning the Empire is wrong about the Republic and the galaxy isn’t the way they say it is, he was raised on stories of great heroes Imperials and how the Empire saved the galaxy from the chaos of the Clone Wars which sounds like revised history and we should call them on it. He need to know that not everyone in the galaxy is as cruel as the Order and people will do things for others for nothing in return, the Resistance would be a good place for that, however, his mother died during the New Republic’s siege on his homeworld Arkanis (really sore topic for him), well mmh, that’s what the popular head canon is and I dig it cause us an explanation why he hates the Republic and by extension the Resistance so much to have him to learn to separate the two would do him some good. 

3 (How much he’d have to change?: He would have to change a lot and it will be for the better, of course, for him to join the Resistance he’d have to relinquish his rank as general and to give up on power, like he doesn’t need so much of it anymore, his life no longer depends on his usefulness and nobody is out waiting for him to fail as well, to have that change in foundation where he can start again and slowly gain trust would be where we see the most change, of course it wouldn’t happen until he learns to care for others, chill on the murder, and give up on his Imperial ideals. His new rank within the Resistance should be an intelligence officer and engineer that’d the perfect rule for Hux. 100% he should live with his actions and learn thats not okay and do better, he may never be forgiven for his actions against the Hosnian system, but it’s about trying, successes is a big bonus he may never have.

Im going to stop here cuz my hands really hurt but I hope you’re satisfied don’t be scared to ask questions.

[darks-ink]

What A Nice Surprise CH.8

When will my linebreaks return from the war? Also more Valerie, whoo hoo, and a short appearance by Technus.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

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The Ghost Zone was dreary as always. Thick green ectoplasm coiled and misted, forming nebulous clouds that Danny easily passed through. His destination was a lair he’d never visited; he only knew where it was by chance. He’d seen the ghost exit it once before, while he had been fighting Skulker, and evidence suggested that it really was that ghosts lair.

And if not… well, it wouldn’t be the first time that he’d made a fool out of himself.

The door, exceedingly simple for the ghost it supposedly belonged to, appeared in front of Danny. He paused for a moment, hesitant. Then he braced himself. It had to happen. Jazz had really hit it off with Dora, but he couldn’t have her go into the Zone so often to visit her. And Sidney, too, would likely get along well with the two of them. The phones needed to be made, needed to work.

He knocked.

The door opened, a green-skinned ghost with a white mullet appearing in the opening.

“Ghost-Child?” Technus asked, frowning behind his glasses. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“I saw you leave here once, while fighting Skulker.” He shrugged, fidgeting with the edge of his glove. “I, um. Heard that you were working on getting phones working here? And I wanted to help, if I could.”

Technus eyed him, probably trying to determine his genuineness. Then he floated aside, gesturing for Danny to enter. “Very well! But, Ghost-Child, do you know anything about tech besides how to destroy it?”

“Eh, not really.” Danny grimaced. No, unless fixing the Ghost Portal per accident counted, he didn’t have much experience with it. “But I have some earphones my parents invented. When we tested them recently they worked across dimensions, so I thought they might be useful to you.”

Then Danny shrugged. “Plus I might be able to get you material by buying it or taking it from my parents, so you don’t have to come and steal it.”

The full ghost barked out a laugh. “Very well! I will gladly take a look at this tech of yours.”

Nodding, Danny dug out the extra pair of Fenton Phones from his pockets. He had originally taken an extra pair to give to Valerie, but after their recent confrontation she hadn’t exactly warmed up to him. Since no further truces had formed, he might as well sacrifice them for this.

Technus took them from his hand, turning them this way and that. “And they worked across dimensions? These don’t look like anything special.”

“Uh, yeah. We tested them, my parents on one side and me on the other, and they worked just as well as when we were all in the Zone. And that was with three of them in the Human World and me in the Zone.”

Nodding, Technus floated over to the closest desk. “Well, let’s see how your parents managed it, then. And I assume you’ll want access to the tech too, in return for helping?”

“I mean, ideally I would offer this tech in return for you no longer attacking Amity, but I don’t think that that’s gonna happen.” Danny floated closer as well, keeping an eye on Technus as he disassembled one of the earpieces. “So yeah, I’ll settle for some of the tech so I can stay in touch with the Zone-bound ghosts.”

“What, your human family and friends not good enough for you?” Technus didn’t look up at Danny, but his tone seemed light and joking. Oh, if only Danny was better at reading people he wasn’t as familiar with. “You need to have ghostly allies too?”

“Well, I am half ghost and not just human,” he joked back, hoping he was reading the atmosphere right. “And I’ve had my current allies for a while, you know? Wulf and Dora and Frostbite, among others.”

Technus stilled for a moment. Then he jolted back into action. “You know Frostbite of the Far Frozen? And Queen Dorathea of Aragon?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny floated to the other side of the desk so he could watch Technus and the earphones simultaneously. “Dora is a close friend of mine, and Frostbite and his people worship me for defeating Pariah Dark. Why? Are they that well known in the Zone?”

The other ghost looked up from the gadgets to stare Danny in the eye. “Ghost-Child, your ignorance never fails to impress me.” Then his head turned down again as he continued working.

“What, you’re just gonna say that and not explain?” Danny’s spectral tail twitched in irritation, aura brightening slightly. “Should I have mentioned Pandora as well? I mean, it’s not like any of them are like Clockwork, right?”

Snorting, Technus shook his head. “Clockwork is just a legend, child.”

“Legendarily annoying, you mean.” Danny rolled onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow which rested on nothing. “But I was serious about those guys being my allies, you know? Frostbite taught me how to use my ice powers, even.”

“Yes yes, of course he did.” Technus glanced between some of the parts he had just pried loose. “Between their tech and these gadgets of your parents, I could’ve made functioning phones ages ago.”

“Really?” Danny blinked, eyeing the ghost suspiciously. “If it’s just that easy, we can go to the Far Frozen right now. They’ll want to keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t steal anything else, but otherwise it’ll be fine.”

The tech ghost looked up, eye-lenses wide. “You were serious? Yes, yes, let us go immediately.” He dumped the partially-deconstructed Fenton Phone on his worktable, pushing himself up into the air.

“I don’t joke about these things,” Danny said, half-offended. “I really am allied with these ghosts, and friends with most of them as well.”

Technus nodded along as they exited the lair. Then he paused, frowning. “Wait. So what about Clockwork? He’s just a Ghost Zone legend, right? How did you even hear about him?”

“He kept sending ghosts from the future to fight me,” Danny explained with a lopsided grin. “Eventually I followed one of those to Clockwork’s lair, got into a bit of a fight with him, and fell through one of his viewing screens into the future. Found my way back, took out the bad future me that came along, and apparently that was Clockwork’s plan all along.”

Huffing out a breath, Technus shook his head. “Jeez, child. That sounds too crazy to be true, but even crazier to have made up.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Danny laughed. “Try living it.”

“Not exactly alive anymore.” Technus slowed, letting Danny take the lead. “How far is the Far Frozen anyway?”

“Well…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, it’s quite a ways, actually. When I visited with my parents last week, it took over an hour at the Specter Speeder’s highest speed.”

Technus glanced over at Danny, narrowing his eyes. Then he sighed. “And you are, once again, serious. You’re lucky that the Far Frozen has such attractive technology and that I’ve wanted to take a look at it for decades.”

Danny’s grin crept back onto his face. “Gotta get some good luck to balance out all the bad, sometimes.”

“That’s depressing, Phantom.”

---

“Alright,” Technus mumbled as a bit of tech clicked into place. “This should’ve done the trick.”

Danny looked up from his book – English homework for Lancer – and at his fellow ghost. “So how did it work, again?”

“It’s a chip. It needs to be installed in a phone for it to be able to connect to any other phone carrying the chip.” He held it out to Danny, demonstratively. “I’ve got two of these so we can test them. After that I can easily replicate it to make more.”

“So I’ll still need to equip everyone with phones.” Danny took the small device from Technus, turning it around in his hand. It was small. Smaller than his fingernail, even. He glanced away from it, back at Technus. “Do you have a phone to test this with?”

The ghost scoffed. “Who do you take me for, Ghost-Child? Of course I have a mobile phone!”

“Right, of course, I should’ve known.” Danny shook his head, using his free hand to pull out his phone. “So where should I plug this thing in?”

“Just phase it in. It’ll work even while intangible.” Technus shrugged at Danny’s incredulous look. “Listen, most phones don’t have a whole lot of free space, yeah? Easiest way to make it as compatible as possible is to make it work while intangible.”

Danny paused, thinking that over for a moment. Then he sighed, phasing the chip into his phone. “Yeah, alright, I guess that that’s fair.”

Just then his phone beeped, and he looked down at the screen. A new text message from an unknown number, simply reading ‘hello world’. He glanced over to Technus, who was now holding a phone as well.

“Really?” he asked, unamused. “Was that really the most creative thing you could think of?”

Technus clicked his tongue. “You disappoint me, Phantom. Your little tech-buddy would’ve gotten the joke, I’m sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Danny stuck his phone back into his pocket. “Yeah, sure, whatever makes you feel better. I’ll send you a text when I make it back to the Human World, and then we can try calling after that?”

“Of course, Ghost-Child.” Technus sat down on the edge of his worktable. “But go and hurry, yes? I get bored waiting.”

“I’m not even gone yet!” Danny protested, floating over to the door. “But, just for you, I’ll fly at my top speed, alright?”

He didn’t hear whether Technus replied or not, as he’d already left the lair. True to word, he zipped to his parents’ Portal at top speed. He really hoped it had worked. Convincing Frostbite to let Technus access the Far Frozen tech hadn’t been as easy as he’d thought.

At least Technus himself seemed to have warmed up to Danny, now. Apparently his various Ghost Zone allies were too threatening for Technus to risk opposing. Well, if it worked, it worked.

Turning invisible just before he left the Zone, and intangible immediately after, Danny passed through his house unnoticed. He and Technus had decided beforehand that it would be best for him to put some distance between the phone and the Portal, as that might influence the reach as well.

He paused high above Amity Park, looking over the city. His city. With a grin, he pulled his phone from his pocket. First registering Technus in his contacts, he send a text back.

‘made it to amity,’ he simply said.

After a few long moments, his phone rang. Grinning wider, he answered it.

“Ghost-Child!” Technus said, his voice crackling like static – even worse so over the phone than in real life, but that might not be a side-effect from the chip but from Technus himself. “It worked, just like I said, didn’t it!”

“Uh, yeah. Your voice is kinda static-y, but you tend to sound like that while possessing technology as well so I don’t think that the chip is to blame for that.”

“Ha! No, it is not. My technology is flawless, Phantom! I, unfortunately, am not. But I will be, eventually!” Technus paused for a moment, a heavy rustling of his clothes filling the line instead. “I will have as many chips as you want for you tomorrow. Bring me a laptop like promised and I’ll leave your town alone.”

“And the rest of the Human World as well?” Danny’s grin fell a little as his eyes narrowed. Count on Technus to try for a loophole.

“Yes yes, of course. I might come visit Amity, but I will let you know beforehand and I will behave well,” the ghost promised.

“Alright. I’ll come by tomorrow, then.” Danny’s ears picked up an unfortunately familiar hum in the distance. “Anyway, I gotta go, Technus. I’ll get you that laptop, yeah?”

He hung up before the other could reply, just as Valerie entered his view.

“Phantom,” she growled, a gun forming in her hands. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Convincing Technus to stop attacking Amity Park,” Danny said casually as he pocketed his phone again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I’m not falling for your charade, Phantom.” The pink elements of her gun started glowing, clearly preparing a shot. Danny got the feeling that she was glaring at him from behind her helmet. “Now release your hold on the Fentons and leave.”

“I’m not doing anything to the Fentons!” he protested, throwing his hands up. “Just because they’ve realized that I’m not the bad guy doesn’t mean that I did anything!”

“You’re just leading them to their deaths!” Valerie tensed, her fingers visibly clenching around the gun despite the thick armor around them. “And then before we know it, they’ll be gone or dead and you will be to blame!”

“If I wanted them dead I would’ve done it already!” Danny snapped before he could really think about it. Knowing he couldn’t take back his words, he continued at a quieter tone. “I’ve been in the Ghost Zone with them twice already. If I really did want them dead, wouldn’t that have been the perfect moment for it?”

Valerie snorted. “Like you ghosts are logical in any way. You’re not fooling me, Phantom.”

“I think that you said ‘I absolutely refuse you ever believe you,’ wrong.” He lowered his arms, crossing them instead. “But I’ve got better things to do. See you hopefully never, Val.”

Turning himself invisible, he dodged to the side in case she reflexively pulled the trigger. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the two of them had ever worked together. Multiple times, even!

He shook his head, flying away from her before she could get out her ghost scanner. Buying the laptop for Technus – and phones for his allies – would cost most of his saved money, but it would be worth it.

Now he just had to convince Jazz to let him phase the chip into her phone.

---

Danny left Sidney’s new phone in their shared locker at the start of the day. He had already added his own phone number, but otherwise the contact list was saddeningly empty. Soon, hopefully, Jazz’s number would join as well.

During lunch, his phone buzzed with a new text. Tucker and Sam looked confused, but didn’t say anything. Most of their lunches were spent in silence nowadays, anyway.

He supposed that they’d grown apart. One day, maybe, he could mend this relationship, too.

The text was, of course, from Sidney. ‘you really got me a phone?’

‘of course I did!’ he texted back. ‘has that new chip as well, so it works in both dimensions.’

‘holy moley!’ Sidney answered. ‘thank you! it is much appreciated!’

‘thank me when I convince jazz to get hers chipped as well.’

Sidney’s answer was a happy-faced emoticon. Danny felt his lip quirk into a smile, but caught Sam’s deepening frown from the corner of his eye and felt the happiness disappear again. Why couldn’t things just be easy for once?

Instead of explaining himself he took a big bite of his lunch. He had no excuses. None that wouldn’t involve a lot of lies, that wouldn’t just hurt them more.

When had his life gotten so complicated?

---

“Phantom,” Valerie said, sounding more resigned than angry. “What are you doing now?”

“Making imaginary friends,” he replied, dryly. He hadn’t looked away from the phones in his hands. There were several more lying scattered around him.

“Why.”

“Well, in actuality I’m working on being able to communicate with my friends and allies without having to travel between dimensions.” He confirmed the contact on the new phone, then looked at Valerie. “This way my friends can contact me without having to come to Amity if there’s trouble. Unless you prefer it when they come here?”

“So one of these,” she gestured at the wide spread of cheap cellphones, “is yours?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny flipped the phone in his left hand closed, laying it down on the rooftop he was sitting on. “But don’t worry, these are all totally legit. I bought them with actual legal money.”

She snorted. “Yeah, uh huh. Like I would believe that.”

“If I was stealing them, would I really have gone for the cheapest phones I could get?” He raised a brow at her, wishing he could see her face to read her expression. “Come on. Do you really think that badly of me, Red?”

“Worse, actually, but good try.” She shifted, one hand resting on her hip and the other hanging loosely. It would look like a relaxed position if it wasn’t for the gun holsters attached to her hips. “Give me your number.”

“Wow, I thought you weren’t into me?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Hearing her growl, he raised his hands placatingly. “Yeesh, calm down, just joking. But, uh, no can do.”

“Why not?” she asked, voice still a low growl.

“Well, um.” Come on Fenton, think! You can’t give her your number, she’ll recognize it as Danny Fenton’s. Shoot, he really should’ve bought a phone just for Phantom. “Well, it’s… You see…”

An idea wormed its way into his brain, then, and he smiled. “The problem is that these don’t actually work with normal phones. They use a special chip, so they can only connect with phones that also have that chip. Not with actual mobile providers. Sorry, Red.”

She stood, unmoving, staring at him. Then she relaxed a smidgen. “Alright, fine. I’m willing to believe that, for now. But if I found out you lied to me…” she let the threat hang.

“I gotcha, I gotcha!” He glanced down at the phones. Only one more needed setting up, but that was Wulf’s and he had no way to reach the ghost anyway. Looking back at Valerie, he said, “I’m about done here, anyway. I’ll go and get out of your hair, deliver these to the Ghost Zone. If you run into Wulf, can you let me know or send him to me?”

“Who the hell is Wulf?” She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “Please tell me that you didn’t name your dog Wulf.”

“Nah.” Danny flapped a hand, using his telekinesis to gather the phones again. “Wulf named himself. He’s more werewolf-y. Big, with black fur and green eyes. Huge claws. Can rip holes into reality to create portals between this world and the Ghost Zone.” He shot her a lopsided grin. “Nothing special. You probably won’t run into him, but you never know with that guy.”

“There are ghosts that can create their own portals?” Valerie asked, apparently focusing on that specific bit. Danny hoped that she had heard the rest, too. “That’s not a common ability, right?”

“Nah, no worries.” He pocketed all the phones, thanking his parents for the many surprisingly roomy pockets on his belt. “Wulf is one of the few ghosts I know who can do it. And they’re usually not malevolent – they have no reason to cause trouble since they can avoid unwanted contact much more easily.”

Valerie shook her head. “Somehow, Phantom, every thing I learn about your kind just makes me more worried instead of less.”

“It’s a familiar feeling,” he assured her with a grin. “Trust me, I’m still learning more and more myself. Anyway, thanks for not shooting me, Red. See you around.”

“I hope not,” Valerie muttered as he flew off.

---

It was, once again, the weekend. Danny rung the doorbell, then phased into his own house, dropping his invisibility.

“Oh, Phantom!” Jazz looked up from where she was sitting in the living room, reading a book. “Come to kidnap my parents again?”

“Eh, not really.” He shrugged, floating closer. “A while ago we did some tests with my abilities, but we never did all of them, so I thought we could finish them today.” Then he curled his hand around his chin, in a thoughtful look. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you as well.”

“Me?” Jazz asked, intrigued. She put down her book, turning to face him fully. “What about?”

“As you might’ve heard, we’ve been working on getting phones to work in the Ghost Zone.” He sat down on the arm of the couch, his boots resting on the seat. “And, in part thanks to your parents, we did it! Dora really enjoyed your talk, so she was hoping to share phone numbers so you could talk more.”

“Oh! Yes, sure.” Jazz fished her phone out, flipping it open. “What’s her number?”

Danny made a face. “Well, it’s not quite that easy.” He pulled out a chip from his pocket – the last one that hadn’t been connected to a phone. “See, the phones can only connect with each other if they all have this special chip in them. It needs to be phased into a phone – your phone.”

“Alright.” She held out her phone. “If it won’t do any damage, go and phase it into my phone, then.”

“You sure?” he asked, taking the phone from her hand already.

“I trust you, Phantom.” She sat back. “If you say it won’t do any harm, it won’t.”

His lip quirked into a smile. “Thanks.” The chip was phased into her phone, and he handed it back. “I… I really appreciate that. Your trust, I mean.”

“Of course.” She glanced down at her phone, then back up at him. “Say, does Sidney have a phone as well? Since he spends most of his time around here?”

“I got him one too, yeah.” He smiled knowingly. “Let me guess, you want his number as well?”

“Definitely.” She nodded. “Say, have they ever met?”

“No, not yet. I’ve been planning to introduce them, but I haven’t had a chance to, yet.” He leaned back, his weight resting on his hands. “Why? You hoping to introduce them, too?”

“I think they would get along well,” she admitted, a somewhat hesitant grin on her face.

“And being a group of friends will be better for everyone involved as well?” Danny suggested, knowing that that was what she was planning for. Or so he hoped. It was definitely what he wanted to happen.

“Uh… yeah. Absolutely.” She nodded a little too enthusiastically. “And, um, Phantom?”

“Yeah?” He stopped digging through his pockets for the sheet of paper he’d used to write down the numbers for Sidney and Dora.

“If I give you my number, can you spread it among the ghosts?” She fidgeted with her hands, as if she’d suddenly gotten shy over asking. “When I met Sidney, he said something that really hit me. That happy people don’t become ghosts, that most ghosts have trauma regarding their life – or death.”

“I mean, I guess so…” Danny said, uncertainly. “But how does that relate to…?”

“Well… these ghosts don’t seem to have any psychiatrists or anything,” she started to explain, haltingly. “So I thought… I can help Sidney, and I can help Dora. But there are so many more ghosts that could use my help, too. And if phones become more widespread, they could text or call me for advice, or ask to drop by. And then I can do my best for them, too.”

Danny blinked, surprised. He wasn’t sure why this had caught him off-guard so badly; Jazz had certainly seemed intent on doing this for every ghost she’d encountered so far. “Um, sure, I guess? But you might want to tell your parents as well, if you plan on having ghosts come by.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you’re right.” She stood up suddenly. “Come on, they’re in the lab. They might not have heard the doorbell, otherwise they would’ve come up already.”

Floating up from the couch, Danny trailed after his sister. “Say, not that I don’t appreciate you wanting to help ghosts, but… Are you sure you’re ready to deal with them? Especially ones that might’ve attacked Amity Park before?”

“Maybe not.” She shrugged, not looking at him. “But if I don’t try, who will?”

[meredithmary]

Upcoming JRPG’s for the next 12 months!! (Summer 2018-2019)

Because I used to do this kind of list pretty regularly, but haven't in a while (and people keep reblogging my ‘JRPG’s 2016′ list)

Shining Resonance Refrain July 10th

A story focused, party based action RPG coming to PS4, XBO, Switch and Steam. Demo available. 

Octopath Traveller July 13th

A beautiful looking, retro inspired game coming to switch. Demo available. 

Dragon Quest XI September 4th

Killer series with killer pedigree, and the reviews and previews for this one are glowing - this needs more buzz in the west! Mines already preordered!

PS4 and PC, with a Switch version coming at some point probably still, who even knows any more. 

Valkyria Chronicles 4 September 24th

If its anything like the first game, it’ll be good. But not quite as good because Welkin’s not in it. I still haven’t forgiven the main dude for not being Welkin. I love Welkin Gunther. Strategic, turn based military rpg, with a strong story and character focus. 

Preorder for a DLC mission that has Welkin in it. 

Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Microsoft Windows

Code Vein september 28th

I almost forgot about this one. They call it the anime dark souls. PS4, XBO, PC

Tales Of Vesperia Definitive Edition late 2018

Are all you keyboard warriors in comment boxes happy now?

Didn’t plan on including rereleases on this list, but this contains content never before released in english and is one of my favourite games and my first tales games, so I’ll give it a pass.

Nintendo Switch, PlayStation 4, Xbox One, Microsoft Windows

You know, one thing I love about the current gaming generations technology/distribution systems, is that it's totally viable to put niche games on every platform, so no-ones left out and fandoms can be full of new friends. 

Kingdom Hearts 3 January 29th

I don’t need to sell you on this one. Its kingdom hearts freaking three. If you follow me, chances are you’ve already got it preordered, and not the vanilla version either. 

If you don’t like kingdom hearts, that's an issue that can be fixed by going to amazon, typing ‘Kingdom Hearts 1.5 + 2.5 remix’ into the search bar . . . 

PS4, XBO

 The Caligula Effect: Overdose, Early 2019

This is a game that looks to scratch that Persona itch. Watching the trailer it’s easy to see the similarities, while also seeing the originality, largely due to former persona staff on the dev team. 

Plus the main villain is a Vocaloid, there’s a focus on music, and certain popular japanese producers are in it. Such as Deco*27. I love Deco*27.

This one makes it past the ‘no rereleases’ rule as A. New characters,extra story content and gameplay enhancements/fixes. B. A game releasing in the west on Vita may as well not exist because who even owns one of those? C. I want it. 

Its still unknown whether this will have english dub, unlike the Vita version. If they take this release seriously and try to capitalise on the growing number of people receptive to this kind of game in a post P5 world, they will. 

PlayStation 4, Nintendo Switch and Steam.

Death end re;Quest Early 2019

Interesting concept, if only idea factory hadn’t idea factoried all over it. Someone should tell them that JRPG’s don’t require stripping to sell, and are allowed to have male party members. Luckily we as consumers are blessed with the freedom of choice!!

PS4

Zanki Zero Spring 2019

This one has me really intrigued. I don’t know what to make of it, but its being made by the Danganronpa team, so its definitely going to be something. 

Plus I’m already in love with police girl. 

PS4 and PC

Later

There’s also some games that have yet to recieve announcements on, like Trails of Cold Steel 3, and games we know are coming such as FFVII remake, along with Atlus’s anticapted Project Re Fantasy and Hideo Baba’s project Prelude Rune, and the new Tales Mothership. We’ll just have to hope we see something nwew at TGS this september!

[animalslifestyle]

Strangers Imprisoned Must Pick Who Lives And Who Dies In A Disastrous Extraterrestrial Experiment | Circle 2015

Circle doesn’t appear to have much going for it at first sight. It’s low-budget, with corny, simple dialogue, and its idea leads to rather a generic genre entertainment. Set almost completely in one room, while a circle of individuals votes on who to take off one by one until only one remains, it appears to be the type of glorified game show you’d find in the depths of a bargain bin or deep on Netflix.

But Circle is much more than its simple appearance. It pulls current identity politics full circle, shocking us with some ingenious sci-fi twists along the way. It’s ruthless, revelatory, and enormously important.

Circle hits a lot of my interests and preferences very directly, thus my enjoyment of the film may be skewed. Narratively, it falls nicely between two of my favorite Doctor Who episodes: Bad Wolf (which features future twists on famous game shows) and Exam (a single-location psychological thriller with sci-fi themes and one-by-one elimination). Circle doesn’t quite live up to the impact of my favorites on first watching, but its proximity in subject matter is enough to get me through even the most cringe-worthy lines (“c’mon, dude!” / “No, you c’mon, man!”).

Circle’s unpoetic language is undeniably one of its major weaknesses, and the lack of time for character development and the black-and-white simplicity of its ideas may be a little too theatrical for some, but I, for one, believe its obviousness is its greatest strength.

The cast of characters consists of 50 individuals, each of whom votes every few minutes on who should be murdered next, with the expectation that just one will survive. It’s unclear how they got there, but given the terrible reality of their predicament (they can’t move, so it’s vote or die), a masochistic survival-of-the-smartest seems unavoidable.

The ingenuity of this design is not in the game itself but in the interaction between the players. The group is obviously designed to reflect typical American demographics, with about equal numbers of men and women, representative proportions of each major racial group, and a wide range of age, sexuality, religion, occupation, and personality type. The majority of these characters are given less than a minute of screen time, with the structure of the film typically giving them the most of their conversation during the round of the “game” in which they are eliminated.

Of course, there are a few people whose roles are slightly more important to the game’s dynamics, such as a collaborative husband-and-wife duo (Matt Corboy and Julie Benz), a pregnant woman (Allegra Masters), and a little girl (Molly Jackson), none of whom anyone wants to vote off, and a rich man (Daniel Lench), who brashly tries to control proceedings, claiming his worth is greater because. When all of these personalities collide, Circle becomes a crucial dissection of identity politics, with every character — given just seconds to introduce themselves before their life is actually put up for a vote — reduced to obvious, shallow stereotypes and judged purely on those traits.

The film is a powerful examination of mob rule, minority identity, and our perceptions of one another in the age of Buzzfeed and Twitter. Circle, an incredibly obvious microcosm of an all-too-obvious universe, is precisely the stupid sci-fi picture 2015 requires. It covers nearly every headline topic of our day — illegal immigration, police brutality, ageism, sexism, racism, homophobia, classism, pro-choice vs. pro-life, religion vs. science — and succeeds precisely because it is so simply constructed and clear-cut.

Circle is rather low-key in terms of technology, but the production qualities are high for the budget level. The photography and editing keep up with the fast-paced action, and the picture avoids seeming cheap by employing CGI only when absolutely required. There are a few predictable plot twists, but what happens is far less essential than how and why it happens in this.

The conclusion of Circle indicates that the events of the film are the consequence of an extraterrestrial invasion of Earth. A number of the cast members reportedly recall being taken by alien entities early in the film. After winning the game, Eric spots UFOs in the sky. Circle’s creators, on the other hand, designed an open ending for the picture. It is possible that the survivors will be forced to participate in another “game” of the Circle.

The Circle is essentially an experiment in which the fittest are rewarded with a chance of survival. It is based on Darwin’s ‘Survival of the Fittest’ principle. Surprisingly, in the film, a person’s fitness is determined by their wit rather than their physical power. When it comes to ethics, though, the concept of survival of the fittest can feel cruel and nasty. While many individuals in Circle confirm Darwin’s hypothesis to be correct, many others are observed striving to follow a moral code.

They are clearly reluctant subjects of alien experimenters. But what is the experiment’s purpose? Is there an escape route? Should they strive to work with or against the men and women around them?

Heated discussion denotes a hive-mind argument that sets some (questionable) ground principles before debating tactics. Things rapidly become personal, as they always do when you realize you only have 60 seconds to determine which of the individuals you’re looking at will die. Should we be guided by prejudices based on race and class, or should we focus our rage on authoritative figures? Is self-sacrifice noble or irrational?

Long lengths of bullying and philosophizing occasionally tax our tolerance, and it’s difficult to imagine that the characters who commit them aren’t promptly zapped by their peers. A little dark humor would have gone a long way here, but the directors and cast keep things very serious. Still, the film keeps the suspense alive by having us predict how this will all play out, leading up to a concluding tableau that, silently, reveals nearly as much about human nature as all the discussion preceding it.

The narrative is the most serious flaw. It’s not riddled with flaws or anything; it’s just very, very predictable. You get the full “hey, what’s going on” phase, the “let’s attempt to beat the game” portion, and ultimately the societal commentary that was unavoidable. Racism, homosexual parents, religion, privilege — if it’s a hot-button issue (and there seem to be a lot of them these days), it’ll be brought up. The film takes no position on any of them (more or less), but attempts to portray all sides of the debate. That’s all well and good, but since I tend to hear this drivel every time I put on the television these days, I’ve had enough and don’t really want it in my entertainment.

The cast is decent; no one really leaps out as outstanding, but no one strikes out as rubbish. They’re all skilled and, for the most part, unknown (the only person I knew was Julie Benz, although I’m sure some viewers will have lots of “ooh ooh, I’ve seen that person someplace” moments). They also did a fantastic job of casting a diverse range of people of various creeds, ages, and so on to reflect a broad cross-section of society.

Aside from that, it’s a short film, so at least they didn’t drag it out, the effects and location (for what they are) are adequate, and the conclusion is executed flawlessly — as predictable as the film is throughout, I definitely didn’t see the last minutes coming.

So that’s the end of Circle. This film is for high-concept fans who prefer their entertainment in a new way, and the mystery of who will survive will keep some people engaged throughout, and the running duration was wisely kept under 90 minutes. If you have some free time and want to watch something unusual on Netflix, you could do worse.

Circle, written and directed by Aaron Hann and Mario Miscione, is both the product of successful cooperation and an examination of how we utilize collaboration to manipulate others for our own advantage. It’s far from flawless, yet based only on thematic need, this might be the most significant picture of 2015. Unfortunately, that significance does not appear to be going away anytime soon.

Channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIUvYQqHaJulahGrU942ONQ

Playlist:

Sexy Love: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCIUvYQqHaJulahGrU942ONQ

Horror: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLru4FE1-1keyyqd1rYJnlwpqE8ysUn2uv

[ask-the-phan-site]

Phan Cam: The New Normal... For Dream FES

WARNING: This may not post in time as this is suppose to take place on the last week of August.

>The backstage dressing room at the Dream Festival. We, the Future Avengers, and KUROFUNE were online with our New York friends.

I can’t believe you guys ain’t comin’ after all.

It’s not your fault, Ryuji. No one could have seen this coming.

Max Modell was the best principal you guys ever had. I can’t believe he’s been fired. It’s so unfair.

Skull: And of all the people to get him fired...

Why’d it hafta be you?

I am merely doing my part as a concerned educator to expose a man guilty of crimes of inhumane experiments.

Really? From what I’ve heard, it was a completely different story. You were the one who went into Max’s lab and messed with his experiment. No one was really in any danger until you released the V-252.

Dr. Connors: Maybe I wouldn’t have needed to if he wasn’t doing the experiment in the first place.

Still, you should have trusted Max. He gave you job at Horizon High when everyone turned their backs on you after you were worked for Norman Osborn.

Dr. Connors: That was his mistake. He only saw what he wanted to see. That’s what made him a fool.

Skull: (angry) What you say!?

Now everyone, calm down. This day is suppose to be about Ryuji and KURNOFUNE... Which I’m surprised that you’re having what with what’s going on.

I couldn’t believe it, either.

Skull: Well, we thought we weren’t going to have it this year because of the Summer Olympics. But since it got canned, they decided to have Dream FES.

But for safety purposes, it’ll be a bit different. No one can be admitted without a mask and they have to stay some feet apart. Also, a lot of people are watching the live stream. The producers also said they’ve done some stuff to the System.

With Tony’s help.

Keigo: Now, people can chose a Dorika over the Net.

That sounds convenient. A way for the audience to participate no matter where you are.

I helped, too. It wasn’t easy, though. The Dream FES System is still a mystery.

Dr. Connors: Which makes me wonder about it. You choose to work with the System, yet you know nothing about it. I think that makes it just as dangerous as the V-252.

Yuto: We’ve used the System for many years and nothing’s gone wrong with it.

Dr. Connors: (a bit smug) Really? Then what’s this did I hear about the time someone tampered with it and Ryuji was turned into an alien.

Skull: I was changed back. I’m fine.

Dr. Connors: And what if you didn’t? Then what? What would become of your friends? ... What would become of your mother?

>Skull looked like he was about to explode.

Yuto: (trying to remain calm himself) Well, they did change him back. That’s all that really matters.

Exactly. I was there. So where Pete and Harry.

Dr. Connors: Still, it is unknown technology. Which makes it a danger. If not to the performers, then to the audience who chooses those cards. If it were in my power, I would also do something about it. But, show business is not my forte.

Queen: You technically can’t take action because Stark Enterprises is researching the System. Until we learn more, there’s not much anyone can do.

Dr. Connors: ... For now.

>I could tell Skull was getting steamed and goes up to the monitor.

Dr. Connors: You have something to say?

Skull: ... You know, Norman Osborn said that all I need to succeed in school is havin’ the right teacher. When I met you, I thought I found it... But now I see that was just another one of his famous lies. Now when I look at you...

All I see is that piece of shit, Kamoshida. Or maybe you’re still thinkin' like a reptile.

>Dr. Connors was silent for a while.

Dr. Connors: ... That’ll be all, Mr. Sakamoto.

>With that, he hangs up.

Well, that could have gone well.

It could have been worse. He could have actually been there and hit you with his mechanical arm.

Yeah, it would look like it would hurt.

I’d like to see him try. It doesn’t look that tough. Plus, I’d arrest him for assault with a weapon.

By the way, it’s good to finally meet you, Mary Jane chan.

Mary Jane: Hey, we’re fiends. Call me MJ.

It’s just a shame we couldn’t meet in person.

MJ: I know. I’ve always wanted to visit Japan. Especially Tokyo.

It can’t be helped. A lot of stuff has been happening. An alien invasion, Max getting fired, not to mention the coronavirus, and we still have to find out which colleges we’re applying to.

Peter: (looking down) Don’t remind me. I still haven’t searched yet... Although, I’m thinking of giving Empire State a try.

Crow: I think that’s a good choice.

Harry: I agree. It’s not that far from Oscorp, so we can still meet up.

Peter: I like the sound of that.

Kamala said she might be checking there herself. It’ll be hard to convince her parents, though. They wanted her to attend community college... Online.

I can understand them a little. They just want their daughter to be safe.

Chloe: I know. They wouldn’t even let her come here for Dream FES.

I know. I’m surprised my parents let me come here. Guess they just wanted a break from all of the kaiju.

Makoto: That and they probably knew we were missing each other.

Adi: Speaking of those not here, DearDream isn’t here.

Keigo: Neither is In-Show-Ha. It’s mainly because Mr. and Mrs. Sawamura are afraid their sons wouldn’t be safe. Although, Traffic Signal is here. Actually, Sankishi and ACE are not here either.

Yuto: So it’s just us and ANSwer.

Makoto: (a bit confused) Traffic Signal? Oh, you mean Kanade, Shin, and Junya.

Keigo: Yes. Since Traffic Signal is a subunit of DearDream, in a way, they are here.

Skull: (unhappy) Don’t remind me. I was hoping to debut my own idol unit, Skul5.

Panther: (unsure) You named a Unit after yourself?

Keigo: Well, he is the leader.

Skull: There’s also Oka along with Nobu and Ichiro. But Nobu and Ichiro’s gramps told them to stay with their family keep them safe from the virus and, because of the name, we’re one member short. I was gonna to hold auditions, but the virus made it impossible.

Noir: I’m sure you’ll have a chance. Don’t worry.

Skull: I hope so, too.

We’re all here for you.

That’s right.

Thanks, you guys.

Stagehand: You guys, it’s almost show time.

We better go. Akane’s waiting for us.

Wolf: Yeah, we should. Good luck, you guys.

Skull: Thanks, see ya.

Peter: We’ll see you on the live stream.

>Our friends end the call and we leave the room for our seats.

>Later in the stadium, we meet up with Akane who was talking to a boy about her age.

Well, your brother will still be on stage with some of his friends. That should still be good.

I know. I mean, he began his career with Traffic Signal.

Crow: Hi, Ritsu san.

Ritsu: Hi, Akechi san. You looking forward to this?

Crow: Well, I’m mainly looking forward to KUROFUNE performing. But I’m sure Traffic Signal will be good, too.

Ritsu: You better.

Oracle: Hey, it’s starting.

Hello, everyone! Well, everyone who could come. Welcome to Dream Festival! Even though COVID-19 may have changed the way things are, but what we like and love will still be around for a long time. We still have quite the show for you. We have some of your favorite Idol Units: KUROFUNE, ANSwer, and even the return of Traffic Signal.

>The Idol Units then come on stage.

We won’t back down after coming all this way. Not now.

It was your support and love that kept us going in these difficult times.

Even though there are only a few of us here, this promises to be a celebration no one will forget.

We will do what we can to make this night a night of dreams.

No doubt. This night will begin to shine... Little reference there.

But it does ring true. The light that we will bring will be seen.

Yuto: In these times, we must look to the future.

Keigo: The future is now really close.

Skull: Right. We’ll rush through all this and into tomorrow.

Idols: Get ready for Dream FES!

>The audience cheers. That was the best speech we heard.

MC: (clapping) Yes, yes. Now, due to these circumstances, each Unit will perform two song instead of the usual three. Now, Traffic Signal will go first. Then, ANSwer. Then, we end it off with KUROFUNE.

Junya: Let’s look to the heavens and see what it holds.

Shin: Now is the time to take flight to where are hearts lead.

Kanade: Let us spread our wings and go forward...

Traffic Signal: With Forward Skies ahead!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

Kanade: I’m going to enjoy the cheers you gave me. Thank you!

Catch Your Cheers!

Junya: I won’t let you all down. Here I come!

Catch Your Cheers!

Junya: The love you give will help us fly!

REMINDER: The following images are not in violation of the Tumblr policy as they do not actually contain sensitive or adult contain. They only show the upper half. Please do not flag.

(Picture of Junya in this Coord is unavailable.)

Sky Stage Series! Complete!

>With that, Traffic Signal begin their song, Forward Skies*.

NOTE: Song names with * are made up and are non canon to the Dream Festival series. But the Units and Idols can’t keep using the same songs over and over.

>After they finished their song.

Junya: Our next song will be the first one we ever performed as Traffic Signal. So I think we have an idea which Dorika you will all choose.

Ritsu: You bet.

Akane: Same here.

Traffic Signal: Let us tell our Glory Story!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

Traffic Signal: Thank your for your cheers!

Vampire Lord Series! Complete!

Cool Priest Series! Complete!

>With that, Traffic Signal performs Glory Story, their first song.

Akane: Wow, you sure know your stuff, Ritsu kun. Have you ever thought of becoming an Idol yourself?

Ritsu: Not really. But I was told I might have a career in managing DearDream. Or be a producer. I still have a year to decide.

Kei: I’m sure whatever you choose, you’ll be great.

Ritsu: Sure hope so. I’ve been reading up on merchandising. Though, it’s going to be difficult since Bandai doesn’t work with D-Four anymore.

Makoto: I’m sure I can put in a good word with Tony.

Ritsu: Really? Thanks, Makoto kun.

>After Traffic Signal finished their song, it was now ANSwer’s turn.

Akiomi: Tonight, we will do something a little different. A song you might already know.

Nanao: Though we’re in Ikebukuro, the sounds of Shibuya will be heard.

Souji: Let us show you that the world ends with you and that you can expand it.

ANSwer: Now here it is. Owari-Haijimari!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

Akiomi: Your cheers will expand our horizons!

Catch Your Cheers!

Nanao: Thank you for your cute cheers!

Catch Your Cheers!

Souji: Your support will see us through!

>With that, ANSwer changes clothes.

Soda Splash Series! Complete!

>With that, ANSwer performs Owari-Haijimari.

>After they finished their song...

Akiomi: For our next song, our number one hit!

ANSwer: Let’s show them Chivalric Romance isn’t dead!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

ANSwer: Thank you for breaking the ice!

(Yeah, we’re running out of good lines here.)

>ANSwer changes their clothes.

Ice Prince Series! Complete!

>With that, ANSwer performs their song, Chivalric Romance.

MC: (after the song) Fantastic! Guess in a way, you guys are the answer.

>The (small) audience didn’t find it very funny... There were cricket sounds in the background.

MC: Yeesh, tough crowd. Now, on to our final performance. KUROFUNE, ready to shine on stage?

Keigo: You bet!

Yuto: We have Ryuji to thank for our first song.

Skull: It’s just a song that’s real close to my family.

Keigo: Still, it’s a classic. I love Hyde. He’s actually a known inspiration for Yuto getting into music.

Yuto: Among other things. So now, the call has come.

Keigo: The year waits for no man. So we will go for it!

Skull: You won’t regret this. We will go on now. We will all go for the future!

KUROFUNE: Let’s answer Season’s Call!

Dorika Time!

Catch Your Cheers!

Skull: Now or never, right?

Catch Your Cheers!

Yuto and Keigo: Now we dance for you in your light!

>Skull changes clothes.

Sparkling Eyes Series! Complete!

Dream Meeting Series! Complete!

>With that, KUROFUNE performs Season’s Call.

>After their performance...

Keigo: Our last song for tonight was also thanks to Ryuji.

Skull: It the song I wrote for my official debut. So guys no what to do.

>They change into the Innocent Pirates Coord and perform Treasured Hearts.

Crow: Hard to believe that Ryuji’s come so far.

Panther: It was over a year ago when he started this. We really have Harry to thank for this.

Oracle: Makes us wonder what will become of him in the future.

Panther: Why do you ask?

Crow: What if he decides that he loves the idol life so much, that he decides...

Panther: That he decides he doesn’t want to be a Phantom Thief anymore?

Never gonna happen.

Oracle: Really?

Panther: I’ve known Ryuji since middle school. He’s not the kind of guy to back out from something like this.

Crow: You’re right. Ryuji loves being a Phantom Thief just as much as being an idol. To him, giving up one would be like giving up the other.

They’re both his dream.

Joker: They’re all our dreams. We love Ryuji. He’s more than just our friends.

He’s family. He loves us.

Crow: That’s right.

Joker: Actually, Akechi, I’ve noticed that out of all of us, other than his mother...

You love Ryuji more.

Crow: I don’t know. He still hopes to find a girlfriend who will be with him for a long time. But then again...

He still might change his mind and heart.

>I hope so, too.

>KUROFUNE finished their song.

MC: Well, that’s it for tonight. But we’ll be back again soon for Open Mike Nite. That’s right, we’re still having it. Though, a bit short. We’ll see you then!

>We applaud.

>To be continued...

[epicmeetsfail]

Unknown Pleasures: The most august https://ift.tt/2NbjYb9

A friend from the midlands once lamented that she’d always lived there. How absurd it was to live on an island, but directly in the middle of it. I can now say, having lived in two coastal cities, that living on the edge of it is very much the same, except that there are much better chip shops and the rain is more … oceany.

It is currently hacking it down out there and I don’t want to go home in it. Join me once more than, readers, for our regular round up of the best new games on Steam that you’ll never see on a billboard. It’s Unknown Pleasures.

Gazing wistfully into the deep this week: algorithmic therapy, Scandinavian body horror, and the ol’ rotate and thrust.

Apsulov: End of Gods £15.49 / €16.79 / $20

First person horror games are usually terrible, and in all the same ways. This is great news for me because I hate them anyway so it makes very little difference, but someone’s only gone and made one I like. Apsulov is gruesome. Its very first scene is horrible, with you (an Alice, it turns out, which explains the latent magic powers) operated on by some robotic apparatus at the whim of an unseen, intensely threatening entity that’s very quick to anger. Something’s wrong with your throat, so you’re all gurgly and choking and it’s horrible, but for once it doesn’t feel sadistic (obviously the villain is sadistic, but the game doesn’t feel so. It’s meant to be horrible, not pornographic).

You escape, of course, and flee a facility, dodging muttering, screaming shamblemen, pursued by your tormentor’s evil beast, and piecing together where and who you are. Scientists have opened a sinister gate or screaming obsidian hellcube or some other thing that only a colossal fool would open, and apparently the Norse gods are involved somehow. Creeping, rapidly growing tentacles are poking through, gigantic valkyrie shields line one lab, and since your captor drilled something into your head, you have the power to see magical sigils. You’re important somehow, but how it all ties together is a mystery. This is all excellently done, and I’m genuinely intrigued to find out more. Even the occasional jump scares didn’t feel cheap, nor the pillar of the horror – that’s the dread and revulsion, and secondary to that, the wider horror of what this event means for earth in general.

I’m impressed. Oh, but the bloody keypads are a joke. You have to ‘use’ them and then take your hand off the mouse and use the arrow keys to type the numbers in. Deus Ex let us use the number pad nineteen years ago, damn it. Come on.

Exception £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

This wasn’t the game that sparked it, but I’ve had a right moan about “the 80s aesthetic” in games this week. Did you know it’s possible to style your game after something that isn’t synthwave and neon? It’s true, I saw a game do it once.

Exception is enthralling, though, and its presentation is a large part of that. It’s a simple action platformer, with a plot about emptying a woman’s computer from a load of viruses that I skipped entirely thanks to built-in options that I respect mightily. You’re a wee robot who dashes about obstacle courses, wall jumping, slashing up hostile robots, and generally dashing to the exit. Several times each level, you’ll touch a waypoint that reorients the whole level, zooming out and rotating and setting you back along the same course but upside down or along a different axis. It’s very cool and the movement flows freely and comfortably, including your attacks.

The vast majority of enemies are easily done in without altering your path, and you’re periodically given new attacks and powers that I didn’t bother with at all (frankly they seemed more trouble than they were worth). Occasional bosses take half a dozen hits and attack in simple enough patterns that they don’t disrupt things too much either. Everything’s bright and fast and spectacular, and even now, at synthwave saturation point, the soundtrack is a perfect accompaniment that drives you on when the wrong beats would undermine the action.

Phantom Rose £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

It’s another one. It’s another bloody deckbuilding roguelike. You’re doing it on purpose aren’t you?

Phantom Rose does things a little bit differently to the many others in its class. Typically in a deckbuilder you’ll draw a handful of cards and choose which to play. Here, there’s some kind of initiative system going on behind the scenes too. In each round of a fight, you and your opponent will line up cards (5 altogether, giving an advantage to one or the other of you). Yours are randomly chosen from your hand, but you can replace some or all of them from another hand drawn at the bottom of the screen. When you’re satisfied, you start the turn and cards play out from left to right.

There’s a big focus on status effects and buffs like Vampiric Whatever, which gives a chance of restoring health when you attack, or focus, which helps you break through defences. It may get complicated later but was easy to grasp for at least the first two floors. Your path goes along a grid from top left to top right, always (until you reach a map edge) offering two options. I didn’t get the sense that these make a drastic difference in terms of risk or reward, with the exception of occasional “maid” rooms, where you fight a powerful monster to free an amine maid (fairly mild on the tacky anime bullshit meter) who’ll reward you with a special item.

I like that one of the attacks lets you hit a monster with their own attack rating instead of yours. That’s a fun trick. It moves at a brisk pace too, and I even appreciate the artwork. All that red and white and black makes for a bold style.

It feels a bit too easy to run out of good attacking cards. But that might come down to practicing more.

Rashlander £2.89 / €3.29 / $4

Rashlander is a modern form of one of those old 2D rotate and thrust gravity games, whose names, aside from Thrust and Gravity Power, escape me. You pilot a wee ship about a sometimes absurdly hazardous area, aiming to land it on a warp pad to move on to the next level. Gravity and inertia are important tools and potential threats, as there’s a basic Newtonian physics system, making navigation tricky and rewarding. Your default ship (more are unlockable, although they’re balanced so that each presents its own challenge) is fragile and lives are limited. In case that wasn’t cruel enough for you, fuel is also highly limited, and when you run out you explode.

It’s bloody hard. I’m a bit rubbish at it. Each warp pad also offers an upgrade, although some have a downside (one increases fuel capacity but scrambles in-game text, an inventive and somewhat maddening invention), and some are a mixed blessing as they change the way the ship handles, which means re-learning on the fly, potentially under dangerous circumstances. While it’s not a cruel game, it’s somewhat antagonistic, although more for comic effect than anything. Levels have hidden collectables and bonus landing pads if you fancy a challenge, but it’ll likely be a while before you’re good enough to risk those as a matter of course.

Eliza £11.39 / €12.49 / $15

The cult of the algorithm is one of the biggest and most insidious disasters of our already disaster-laden era. Eliza is an exploration of this, and of the mental health crisis, and of tech startup ‘culture’, and of counselling. It’s a visual novel in which you play as Evelyn, a new recruit for the eponymous business, which is a counselling service in which all the counselling is done by an AI. The humans like Evelyn are just there to put a face on it, to the extent that they’re not allowed to say anything but whatever script the algorithms produce, based on a vast bank of heuristic data and the patient’s verbal analysis, biological data like heart rate, perspiration and so on. They can’t even interpret.

I did a bit of basic counselling training a long time ago. It’s something I’ve long been interested in, and have experienced and contemplated from many angles. I was all set to loathe Eliza simply for suggesting the idea, fearing the HIGNFY effect, that some absolute piece will get wind of it and not realise what a godawful idea this is.

And yet.

Within the very first session I was haughtily telling the system off for being an atrocious counsellor – outright lying to a patient, for one – but then the next chapter (they’re comfortably short) kicked in. Evelyn meets with an old, estranged friend for lunch, and their shared past is hinted at. She goes to a conference in which a key speaker is a former colleague, who announces that he wants to go further than Eliza, and roll out technology that will directly interface with a patient’s brain. It’s a hybrid of electroconvulsive therapy, VR therapy, and everything else Eliza already does. He also openly criticises the incredible and shameful ignorance the tech people have of psychological research that isn’t jazzed up with some faddy nerd bullshit (I paraphrased). And I’m hooked.

Much as I see the obvious downsides of this system (and not even addressing the issue of putting this in the hands of a private business, let alone a heap of silicon valley jebs)… is it actually worse than what we have now? If not this, then what are we gonna do, magically summon the hundred thousand competent and willing and experienced counsellors and doctors and therapists we need to deal with the absolutely appalling state of mental health treatment in, let’s face it, most countries?

Eliza is obviously the pick of the week.

I tangent. Eliza touched on all of the issues in under an hour. The personal story of Evelyn, the problems she had in her hold job, her own mental health, the troubles faced by her patients, their concerns with the system, its sinister dystopian possibilities, and, despite my distaste, its potential benefits. That’s not just a good idea, that’s a good idea someone really cares about and understands, and has the talent to write.

August 16, 2019 at 12:29PM

[puckish-saint]

Whiskey Deadeye

Reader-insert Pacific Rim AU Part 1

At 15:34 that day the Deadlock Jaeger boots up for the first time and initiates the neural handshake with its sole pilot, name and background unknown.

At 15:41 Lechuza Renegade is deployed to take it down and prevent a mass murder in the urban areas of Santa Fe.

Lechuza Renegade arrives at 16:47. The battle lasts three hours.

“It was a goddamn miniature mech cobbled together in a garage by teenagers with too much time on their hands! What the hell took you so long?”

Gabriel Reyes and his co-pilot take the reprimand with quietly grinding teeth. They don’t say the smaller size made it impossible to hit. It was in and out before their Jaeger could react and its smaller weaponry allowed for aimbot technology the likes of which their own can’t profit from. It was like trying to squash a fly. A panicked fly with a gun.

They don’t say all that because it’s in their report, the same the Marshall pokes at like it personally offended him.

“We did our best, sir.” Reyes says. “And we brought in the mech for study.”

“For study, great! If you haven’t noticed we have a full bay of the damn things, we don’t need some scrap heap out of Deadlock gorge!”

“Sir, respectfully, I disagree.”

The Marshall sighs and rubs his temples, then says with somewhat more patience than he awards his rangers: “Yes, agent?”

You step forward, and show him the files in your arms. They’re scans of the Deadlock mech’s blueprints, drawn on wrapping paper, walls and at least once on somebody’s arm. It’s taken hours to muddle through the chaos and find the genius at the bottom of the shithole.

“The Deadlock Jaeger-” “It’s not a Jaeger, agent, don’t insult our own engineers by calling it one.” You hesitate briefly. “Very well. The Deadlock mech was built almost entirely from scratch based off our own Jaegers with limited resources. We have no idea how they managed to reverse engineer the technology but I believe we can use their mech to cut construction costs of new Jaegers by nearly thirty percent.”

Thirty percent is a good number and one that soothes even the most ruffled feathers of the higher ups. It’s a good number to ask favours with.

“Sir, if I may.” The Marshall nods and you continue. “I’d like to use the Deadlock mech as a base to built a new, full sized Jaeger. At its current state it doesn’t stand a chance against kaiju but I believe we can adapt most of its technology for a full Mk 3. It’ll be experimental technology, but the benefits, I believe, greatly outweigh the risks.”

He’s not convinced, you can tell. This mech gave him a heap of trouble and he’d rather see it trashed than restored.

“It was damn effective against us. I’d like to see what it can do against a kaiju.”

“Oh would you now?” The Marshall shuffles the papers you gave him, showing the picture of tattooed arm, its remaining open spaces filled with tiny equations and doodles. “And who do you expect to pilot this flaming pile of polished trash?”

Jesse comes to in an unknown bed, surrounded by strange smells and noises. The air feels busy, the tapping of feet rushed as if everyone running past him needs to be somewhere else. Heavy bulkheads open and slam shut and voices ring over an intercom, filled with static and impossible to understand. It smells like oil, copper, engine fumes and microwaveable food. It almost smells like home.

He opens his eyes, looks around. There the waves of hectic action crash against a rock of idleness, lounging in a chair by his bed and seemingly engrossed in paperwork. He takes a closer look, makes sure not to move and give away he’s awake. He spots the insignia of the Jaeger program on an immaculate uniform, its top button popped open. The papers have pictures he recognises; someone took a picture of Martinez’ arm, there are shackles on his wrists almost out of the picture. His heart sinks.

“Good morning.” you say, revealing you’re not as distracted as he first thought. You smile and riddled with fear of being arrested and put in jail it looks smug to him. Everything in him screams to make a run for it, but he’s no idiot. He sees the heavy doors, feels his own throbbing head and knows he won’t get far.

“And you are?” he asks, trying to sound assertive. Vertigo makes short work of his attempt to sit up, although it insults him you didn’t even try to stop him. He could have tried to attack you.

You tell him your name, for what it’s worth, and ask his. He hesitates.

“McCree.” he says, daring you to doubt him. “Jesse McCree.”

“Well, McCree.” you say, putting the papers aside. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Did you know you’re one of only three people to ever successfully pilot solo?”

You sound impressed, although that could be his own ego trying to make him feel better.

“Don’t know if I’d call what I did successful.” he says, rubs the back of his neck. If his Jaeger looks like he feels he totaled the damn thing. He can imagine the reactions back home and wonders if jail wouldn’t be preferable.

“You fought and nearly defeated one of our best ranger teams over three hours of continuous combat, I’d call that- … what’s wrong?”

His face gives him away and he hastily schools it into something he hopes looks more aloof. This is all news to him. At your inquiring look he shuffles away as far as he can in the narrow bed. The sheets are rough when he grasps them.

“What happened in there?” you ask softly, as if you know or have a good idea.

Their Jaeger is tiny compared to the things deployed from the Shatterdomes and Martinez assured him he’d be able to handle the neural load of it alone. Besides, they know little to nothing about drift compatibility and what you need to look for. Jesse will suffice as their guinea pig and he agrees all too readily, itching with the chance to pilot a real Jaeger. Deadlock Gang will rule the entire south with one of these bad boys.

The drift hit him broadside and left him spinning. He never paid much attention to the mumbo jumbo about reliving past memories. At most, he figured, he’d get some flashes, sounds or images that’d be gone before he knew it. And besides, it’s only his own head he’s in, it’s not like he’s carrying someone else’s baggage as well.

His own baggage is enough. The last thing he hears is Martinez’s countdown, the Jaeger booting up, screeching metal and roaring engines and then he’s back in that tiny apartment in Santa Fe he grew up in and the stink of unwashed clothes and alcohol fills his nose and makes him gag. There are other memories as well but it’s that one that traps him, forces him out of the cockpit and into the body of his twelve-year old self as he cowers in his room and flinches at the sound of bottles shattering against walls. His mother screams at his father and brother at the top of her lungs, hysteria and drunk slurring mangling her words until all he hears are threats, the meaning beneath the words. Every second he fears she’ll stomp down the hallway and throw his door open. He wishes he was allowed to lock it. He wishes she was dead. Another scream, another crack of glass and he presses his hands over his ears, knows he looks childish, knows it but brushes his hands through his hair just above his ear again and again to drown out the sounds of her wrath.

Minutes pass. Hours. The front door opens and shuts and leaves behind silence. He hopes it’s his mother that left, that she didn’t kick his brother out again with nowhere to go. Another hour goes by and he cries quietly to avoid drawing attention. An hour after that he sneaks into the bathroom and tries to wash away the red splotches on his cheeks and the rims around his eyes, so nobody will ask why he cried when he goes into the kitchen to get food, praying that no one will be there, praying he can just go in and out and hide away in his room.

His mother is there and she sighs like everyone is out to make her life harder. Jesse hates her more with every second he’s forced to listen to her self-righteous grunts.

“You know why I kick him out?” she asks. Jesse knows but shrugs, hums noncommittally. “It’s because when we argue like this, if I had to see his face one more minute I would beat him to death. I know I would, I have that in me. My father was a drunk who beat us and I have the same genes, Jesse, I know I’m capable of it. I’d forget myself and beat him long after he’s dead. That’s why I make him leave, so I won’t hurt him. You understand that, right? That I’m protecting him from myself?”

He nods because what else can he do? He’s weak, he’s scared, he has no power. Until suddenly, he does.

“Thought it was my Ma I was fightin’.” he says softly, still staring at his hands. “I never dared lay a hand against her but … it was like I was in the Jaeger but also in that kitchen, y’know? It was weird as hell.” He shudders, shakes his head. “If I’d known ... ”

“You were alone.” you say. “Without training, without warning. We call it ‘chasing the rabbit’, getting lost in a memory during the link, and it’s a miracle you didn’t lose control of your Jaeger at all. The neural link should have broken but you held on.”

You sound urgent, he notes absently, like there’s something you need him to understand. He glances at you from the corner of his eyes and it occurs to him that he never told anyone about his past, that he gave cops the finger who asked him and beat up everyone else. But he told you without hesitation. Your expression softens and whatever you were about to say he has a feeling gets put away for another time.

“ … you wanna see the other Jaegers?”

His inner seven-year-old has a mild nervous breakdown over the sight of near thirty Jaegers dominating the backdrop of the Los Angeles Shatterdome. You push him around in a wheelchair, introducing him to every one. You needn’t have to. He knows them all by heart.

“That’s Romeo Blue! I was at the parade after they killed Hardship. And there’s Zulu Mage, they choked the kaiju Hurdle to death with suspension cables. The footage went through the news for weeks. I used to have a tshirt with the shot.”

Some of the Shatterdomes offer tours but Jesse never had the money to even get there. All he ever saw of the Jaegers was news footage and documentaries. And now he’s in the middle of it, surrounded by J-tech crews and the pilots themselves. You point to another Jaeger.

“You know that one?” He shakes his head. It’s an intimidating beast of a mech, all sharp angles and black paint, accentuated with streaks of blood red. It’s outfitted with two plasma cannons, powerful enough to tear any kaiju in half but the spread and kickback would make it useless at anything but close range. Its crew is busy repairing damage from its last battle.

“Don’t recognise it.”

“No wonder after that number you did on us.”

A ranger saunters up to them, hands in his pockets and an air of aggravating ego surrounding him. Jesse’s overcome with the urge to punch him in the face or buy him a beer and he has a feeling this guy wouldn’t take well to either.

You lean down and speak softly against his ear.

“That Jaeger is Lechuza Renegade, the one we sent against you. That before you is Gabriel Reyes, one of her pilots.”

He gapes open-mouthed at the Jaeger, heart laid bare to repair damage he thought came from a kaiju.

“Don’t even remember, huh?” the ranger, Reyes, says, following his eyes up to his Jaeger. His eyes are fond and though he acts like he invented the concept of pride it’s not undeserved.

“You used to pilot Helix Paragon.” he says, suddenly remembering where he heard that name before. A shadow crosses over Reyes’ face but it’s gone as soon as it comes.

“Yeah. Old rust bucket’s stationed over in Anchorage, though, so you won’t see her for a while. Anyway, just wanted to drop by and tell you no hard feelings. Looking forward to seeing you in action again.”

Reyes leaves, off to go do whatever it is rangers do when they’re not being international celebrities and heroes. For several minutes he’s too starstruck to notice what he said. You push him through a throng of people, tell him what they do but he only listens with half an ear.

“What’d Reyes mean by ‘seeing me in action again’?” he asks. You stop before an empty Jaeger bay, a terrifying three hundred foot drop separating him from an existence as a splat on the ground.

“He’s hoping you’ll agree to my proposal,” you say. “I want you to pilot our new Jaeger.”

His first instinct is to say no. Being in the cockpit of that hell machine shook him deep enough to last a lifetime. He never wants to go back to that place and relive the childhood he’s trying to put behind him. But the second thought makes him hesitate. It’s seven-year-old Jesse, with his collection of Jaeger action figures that speaks it, ‘you met Gabriel Reyes and he wants to fight with you’ and ‘you’re in the middle of a Shatterdome and these guys are offering you a job, why are you hesitating, are you insane?’.

You offer him time and a real choice, something no one let him have before. The Jaeger program kept his name out of the system. If he says no, he’ll be free to go and no charges will be pressed. The Jaeger you want him to pilot has just started construction and is supposed to be finished in less than a year. Which is quick and when he asks he learns they’re using his own mech as a base for the real thing.

That’s another thing he can’t wrap his head around. When he asks for information, he gets it. No one distrusts him because of his past. They all know who he is and what he did, but all he gets are compliments on piloting skills he didn’t know he had.

It takes him a week to make his decision and the day after that he’s running his first simulation.

There’s no neural handshake in these games, no old memories haunting him and Jesse finds without all that baggage he enjoys himself immensely. It’s every bit as cool as he always thought it’d be and before long he begins thinking of himself as a ranger, as one of the same heroes he admired his whole life.

Most days when he comes out of the simulation you’re already waiting for him, usually with dinner he tends to miss over running yet another simulation. You eat together, watching his Jaeger slowly come into its own.

“You won’t let me pilot that thing alone, right?” he asks one day near its completion. He thinks about it increasingly often lately, anxious to be in a real cockpit again after the first time went so disastrously wrong. You ruffle his hair.

“No. What you pulled off was a miracle and it’s best not to rely on those. A second time might kill you for good.” He never asked how close he came to dying that day but reading between the lines it’s been a close call. He hums, leans back a little to look at the Jaeger proper. She’s a thing of beauty, solid and lacking the mobility of the miniature she’s based on, but outfitted with long and mid-range weaponry they calibrated to fit his skill sets. She’s deadly accurate, equally effective alone and in a team of several Jaegers. He wants to pilot her, needs to be inside her head and feel her body as his own. He’s in awe of the other Jaegers but this one he loves.

“We put together a shortlist of potential drift compatible candidates. You met some of them.”

“What about you?” he asks before his courage can fail him. You regard him with a look he can’t interpret.

“I’m on the shortlist, yes.”

And that’s when he knows he doesn’t need the list. He made the decision when he told you about his mother before he ever knew he would be in a cockpit again. If he shakes hands with a Jaeger again he’ll do it with you.

“Whiskey Deadeye preparing to deploy. Initiating neural handshake in 10 … 9 ... “

“Nervous?” you ask, standing there like it’s not your first time either. In a minute you’ll be in each other’s heads. Whatever it looks like in yours he can’t imagine it’s worse than being stuck alone in his own.

“In your dreams.”

“Don’t bother lying, I’ll know soon enough.” He doesn’t need to answer verbally. He’s in the drift again, memories flashing past him rapidly and out of sequence. He sees you, your childhood, your dearest memories, the things no one else knows. He sees his own, smells the alcohol on his mother’s breath but this time you’re there, your voice urges him to let it go.

“Connection stable.”

Jesse sees the cockpit before he opens his eyes. There’s a shift, a moment of confusion before he realises he sees through your eyes and it’s his own heavy breathing he hears from three feet away.

“Holy shit.” he says, and he doesn’t know which one of you laughs.

“Ready for your first run?” The voice on the intercom is as familiar as his brother’s even through the static. Deciding on who answers is like deciding which mouth to use. It’s like being in three bodies at once, and only two of them are made from flesh and blood.

“Affirmative. You’ll come along, Lechuza?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

[lobsterqualia]

Destiny 2 hands-on thoughts

I’ve written my pieces for the Guardian (first one here, [second one here](https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2017/may/22/destiny-2-how-a-fresh-start-let-bungie-make-its-biggest-game-yet?CMP=Share_iOSApp_Other)) about the Destiny 2 gameplay preview, but never really found a place to put my own thoughts and observations on the hands-on time I had with the game, so I’m taking it to Tumblr.

On offer was the Homecoming mission, the game’s opener that was shown in its entirety during the stream; one of the (unknown number of) Strikes, the Inverted Spire, which sees the players storming through a Vex area to prevent the Cabal from seizing the initiative; and a new Crucible mode, “Countdown”, that’s best described as “Destiny does Overwatch”.

Homecoming was an incredibly solid mission. In keeping with Luke Smith’s previous stint on the game, The Taken King, it actually manages to instil these otherwise hollow shells with some of the character that they’ve largely been lacking til now. It’s been hard to love Ikora, Zavala or Holiday, or even really feel any strong emotion at all about them, but they each get their moment to shine.

In terms of what you can’t see on the stream, the core gunplay of the game is still there. Shooting Cabal legionaries in the head is still satisfying, the balance between the four main weapon types still works, and your characters specials are still extremely satisfying to use well and in concert with each other.

The biggest change to that whole thing was sort of glossed over, I feel: the reshuffling of “primary, secondary and heavy” to “kinetic, energy and power”. In short, your weapons are no longer divided based on how they shoot, but based on whether they’re elementally infused or not, and on how much damage they do.

In the long game, this should help prevent the sort of Zhalo Supercell situations we saw, where a particular exotic would become a must-have simply for giving that elemental power in the primary slot. But right now, it’s just fun to be able to juggle between a solar hand cannon, a standard scout rifle, and a wayyyyy OP shotgun in your “power” slot. It meant I ended up using all three weapons I had equipped far more frequently than I would in the first game, when I was basically “primary for everything, secondary as an ‘oh shit’ button, and heavy for bosses”.

The other major difference is the introduction of a new, third, ability for every class. For Hunters, this isn’t that new – it’s the shadowstep of Nightstalkers, made universal. As a perk, it’ll either reload your weapon or recharge your melee. Warlocks get an AoE buff, either healing or weapons boosting, essentially copying the Titan light effects but without the bubble. Titans get… something. I didn’t play as a Titan because they wouldn’t let us play as the new Captain America-style Sentinel class, and so really, what’s the point.

The Inverted Spire was a solid strike. The second half was better than the first – which included a lot of that first-person platforming action that Destiny loves and everyone else falls off a lot – but the whole thing had a nice build, some beautiful visuals, and a fun boss fight at the end. I don’t really have a whole lot to say about it, though, and I’m not sure what to take away from that. It didn’t feel, in isolation, like something that couldn’t have been in the first game.

Countdown was more interesting, and less successful. The mode sees teams – 4v4, like all crucible matches from now on – dropped into a small arena with two capture points. The attackers have to place charges and guard them til they explode, the defenders have to prevent that. Both teams also win through a wipe, since respawns are off – revives only.

In practice, the mode felt like it had a serious balancing issue. Defending two points with four players is hard, and attackers can place a charge much faster than defenders can remove it. That means that the attackers won almost every round we ended up playing, largely through the following tactic: sprint to the point, place the charge, then back off and shoot the defenders as they run up and have to stand still for ages to try and remove it.

The only times defenders won (it’s first to six, with teams swapping each round) was by basically ignoring the mode and just going for a wipe.

Like I say, it’s a balancing issue: simply fiddling with the how long it takes to place and remove a charge could change that. But I wonder if Destiny 2 just isn’t built for that sort of intricacy. It’s a twitch shooter where spamming someone in the face with a shotgun before they do the same to you is a pretty good route to victory.

That’s what I saw. What I’m curious about now is what we didn’t see. Thinking back to my previous pre-release experience with Destiny, strikes, crucible and story missions are great, but the core of what makes a successful expansion is in the gameplay loops of the patrol mode, and the raid.

The raid, we won’t see, probably till after release. I trust Smith to do it well, and I’m more curious to find out how the new Guided Games feature does in getting people in to it – the oft-cited stat from yesterday about only 50% of level cap players finishing a raid is fairly damning on Bungie’s ambitions for D1, and if this fixes that, it becomes much easier to recommend the game to others.

Those core loops, though, are the biggest place for reinvention of the game, and the way it could fuck everything up. To be clear, I’m talking about loops on a small scale – how much fun is the game to just pop things in the head, pick up loot, upgrade weapons, and repeat – and also the longer term – will D2 progression repeat some of the errors of D1 in terms of large chasms of light levels that the players need to cross, or is it going to be a smoother ride up to max light?

It’s a tricky one. You want patrolling – or, as it is now, exploring or even, Smith told me “existing in the world” – to matter, which means the chance of good loot and real rewards. But if it matters too much, you repeat the loot cave all over again, with players feeling like just getting a shit ton of loot matters more than playing “high level” experiences.

It is, though, another area where Smith’s pedigree earns a degree of trust. Looking at concepts like the Adventure side-quests and the Lost Sectors – very Horizon: Zero Dawn – it’s clear these have come from the same desire for a sense of mystery as groundbreaking experiences like the Sleeper Simulant and Black Spindle quests, and so I do hope and expect “just wandering around the fucking huge zones” to be something that is fun and rewarding.

What else? Moving into bullet points for the wrap-up:

I was told “Eververse trading company will return, but that’s all we’re saying today”. I’m fine with that. People spending real money on dance emotes is basically subsidising the free content patches for the rest of us.

An interesting quirk in the perks page of your character screen: it looks like subclasses have their own subsubclasses now. Gunslinger has “way of the outlaw”, which bundles four perks – exploding throwing knives, a 6-shot golden gun, chain fire and… something else – into an all-or-nothing bundle. The other four perks, including Knife Juggler, were tied together separately, presumably under a name like “Way of the Sheriff” or something. Discrete from that was the movement perk, grenade perk, and circle-button perk.

Basically, there’s less scope for intricately modifying your build. That should help with rapidly changing load outs, which is good, because the one big quality-of-life change that hasn’t come is some sort of ability to rapidly swap between PvE and PvP builds. You’re still going to need to manually change each individual piece of armour, weapon and perk if you regularly move between high level play in both modes. Smith told me that improving that experience wasn’t a high priority, but also that they hoped that changes to the game mean that there’s less need to swap heavily between both modes. We’ll see.

Activision provided travel and access to the Destiny 2 Gameplay Premiere.

[caustic-pixie]

On Radicalization

I was talking with a friend about the tricky social splinter of finding out that acquaintances are one step away from enemies by way of how they handle their discomfort brought on by critique and confrontation.

There are many kinds of “work” we face in life. What I am focusing on here is a certain kind. I'll say Work, with a Capital W. Work, defined here as “reaching the threshold of uncomfortable, unknown-result, unmovable set of concepts and tasks that are not only expected of us, but have reached a culminating point of no-turning-back being -required- for us to change in a way that better integrates us into an immediate group – and that increases the health and decreases the toxicity of that group”.

The “group” is subjective, but intentionally close by. Maybe it's a job, a blood family, a chosen family, a music scene, friends, religion, whatever – maybe it has national/global levels – but the Work is tied directly in to immediate degrees of connection with others that are involved in one's daily/weekly life and activities.

- - -

Big chunks of the USA have a problem with a kind of toxic masculinity that has been progressing since after World War II, when families were forming and propagating in an age of ever-expanding technology and opportunity. Houses had been popping up in towns, and those houses and towns were ready-made for the auto industry – homes were in suburbs away from work, which was away from the stores, which was away from nature, which was away from schools. The idea of community became location-role specific, the nuclear family became an echo chamber of “Mine deserve the best – better than the rest”. Slowly, over decades and generations and cohorts, we put on blinders so we could better focus on looking forward – and the only time we looked in to other lanes was to check and make sure we had a far enough head-start. Buy more, better, bigger, faster – for you and your family – so you can -be- more, so you can -be- better, so you can -be- bigger, so you can -be- faster. Work long enough to take the money you've earned to leverage it with a bank to purchase things to give you and your kids the best shot at winning the chance to work long enough to take the money -

When we hear jeers about “every kid getting a medal for everything”, we see the true success of the above. Adults of all ages complain about a system that was set up not only by their own parents, but by their grandparents, and is now insidiously motivating in what they do themselves: Grown men and women want enough medals taken away so -their- kid's medal is special again, so -they- are special – again.

Again.

Again. As if there was a “before”. As if there was a first time, that they were special. Why can't they remember when they were special? What... was that thing, that used to feel so good? Do you remember?

Schools and sports slowly rolled over the country in to being the only refuge for kids, and soon there would be no refuge for older kids, for adults. Gender-restrictive, but still deep and supportive, relationships fell to the wayside for whole swaths of men. Women had their friendships demonized and devalued until or unless they could be commodified in some darkly competitive way.

What is that special feeling that one wants to reclaim again? Community. Belonging. Validation. Efficacy. Meaning.

Humans are social. We can't help it. If you, reader, has gone “Tch.” in your head – has gone “I'M antisocial. People are awful. I want to be away in the woods with my pets/art/music” - this post is not for you. Go read the first two related links on the top and come back here later. Seriously, I don't want you on this post, it's a waste of your time and mine. Go, go.

Humans are social. We can't help it. Biologically, it's what we do, it's in our coding, we -need- each other, each of us. It takes a lot of work and Work alike to make sure we all get those needs met. Loneliness is not only deadly, but it's almost viral – it weakens the mind's immunity to other mental illnesses: Isolation, paranoia, self-neglect, depression, anger, delusions. Too much time alone, and the brain will begin to construct its -own- world to compensate for the needs left unfulfilled – like a body living off its own fat reserves until it starts reaching the muscles and it needs to eat those too. We need to see that our existence positively effects the existences of those around us, we need to see that we are seen, we need to see that others see us seeing them. We need our actions to bee like they -matter-.

When we're punished for wanting to look to our sides because it might mean we're willing to fall behind to match pace with others in our cohort, when we're given so many medals and rewards that we can no longer trust the praise of others as a way to mark our progress or acknowledge our Work, when we're encouraged to only team up with others to accomplish one goal and then disperse -

when do we get to find a sustainable sense of meaning? Where do we get taught to do the Work to make it happen?

We're not encouraged to perform emotional labor – some humans (especially men, especially people in different power brackets) are discouraged from even learning how. We don't possess a language to think about building, let alone -maintaining-, long-term connections to those closest to us (mentally or physically).

Once you've hit a certain age, then, fully indoctrinated to the above: your only choice is forward-motion towards power. Power will mean you're far enough ahead that you are safe. Power will mean reaching the goal. Top score. Good grades. Medals. House. Car. Food. The best, fastest, most. It always has before.

Anyone who tries to connect with you must therefore be trying to take your power away. There's no motivation toward a group project here. The Work is obviously not real, because you never had to do any of it before, right? Your friends, family, coworkers will all inevitably betray you because -you would absolutely betray them-, and this knowledge churns around an ever deepening fear of self that becomes projected out into a fear of others so that neither fear is distinguishable from the other and they both harden in to something that feels like a Fact of Life.

That Fact of Life means that any deviation from running ahead must mean that someone is trying to run you off your road. Work is frivolous, menat for someone else to do, because you're already working -so- hard-. Critique is a confrontation. Emotional vulnerability is a manipulative trap. Invitation to engage is a demand on your time to waste it away from this important thing you're trying to do. Any questioning of behavior is an obvious attempt to -hurt you-.

Now imagine if you looked ahead and saw a group of people who Get It. Who live this Fact of Life so perfectly that they're reaching all the goals. They're powerful. They're not alone. They have attention, love, success; and it’s not even slowing them down or making them look weak. They figured it out. They lash out at the problem and people listen. They're winners.

Wouldn't you want it? Why wouldn't you want it? It's perfect. Everything you were brought up to believe was real, all along. You can be special again.

One's friend group from school, sports, childhood has been receding. The ones still present have begun to say that one has changed. One gets defensive – what's changed, what are these guys even talking about? One has always been this way. It's THEM that have changed. They can't see the obvious truth that their power is getting leeched away from them, and by association they're making everyone else give up that power too. Everyone's rushing to become weak and slow. Everyone's denying their destiny to go pursue the goal-grade-score-star. Why are they rejecting this? Why can't they see the truth?

Those other folks who have found their own groups that match up with their own lanes, those folks are spouting crazy talk. It's -One- who has always stayed the same... and that's actually true, from all angles. Those other folks are just finally having to acknowledge the behaviors and beliefs they could formally take for granted as being inherent/good or that they could at least sweep under the rug as just common/inevitable. None of them have ever learned the emotional skills to not only spot the red flags early enough to matter, and none of them have ever learned how to want to -act upon- those red flags even if they could see them in time. Loneliness has seeded and sprouted and seeps. So those blinders keep the eyes on the prize and these people who seem to be already achieving it. So this One person submits.

So they are special. Again. Community. Belonging. Validation. Efficacy. Meaning.

Again and again and again, the cure to loneliness is viral in its own right – this desperate, unnamed need to connect without any language or skills to do so; this self/other fear and goal-power-chasing that lays the bedrock for every other belief. The drive to be in anything but Last Place means joining any other group of people that will help you keep -any other group- in last so you never have to be. If the group gets too big to gather new members, it'll just splinter into smaller subgroups for the same goal.

The good feelings that should come with being special are impossible to feel, because that would create vulnerability. This specialness is only safe if it sneaks in like a feeling of -survival-. You are special because of your fear, because of your anger, because of how many enemies there are in front of you to unite those to the sides of you. There will always need to be an enemy to rail again, for there to be a special way to feel.

Who is good, and who is bad? One, or the other folks? Do you know which side of the fence this One fell over to? Surprise, it could be any, all, and either. It could start on one and end on the other. Are you listening? It's all a long-term lack of skills.

It's irrelevant from which ideology we spring from, but only in a detached sense, which is from wence I am writing this today. All of this results in violence, and all of that results in all of us being slowed down even further. People are dying for dreams that were not designed to remember them.

The answer to all things is rehabilitation and reintegration, witnessing, watchfulness, work, Work. One by one, one by the many, the many by one. The village raising the child, the Scotsman taking ownership of culture's complex and sometimes unflattering results. The healthy display of anger and hurt and sorrow, the strength and patience and self-preparation of holding space when we just don't want to.

No excusing, and, consistent acknowledgment of what-is. Context can coexist beside confrontation. Tolerance and acceptance do not negate boundaries and expectations, instead they work together to build towards progress.