#confused and incomplete

[nelkcats]

Lost Bird Returns

It wasn't strange that Danny chased Desiree, or that she refused to return to the Infinite Realms. What was strange was that she decided to leave Amity Park.

That made things 200% more difficult for the halfa because outside of Amity no one had the "no desiring" rule; while Danny was grateful that Amity was kept "secret" and no one knew what was going on inside (and that was a pain in the ass to accomplish), it was also a disadvantage in those situations.

Mainly because Desiree could stay invisible and listen to people's wishes. Like at that moment, where he found her smiling next to Batman, and damn it, what wish had she granted?

Batman, unaware of his unfortunate situation, was watching the streets of Gotham gloomily. It was Jason's death anniversary and they'd had another fight, which happened a lot in those days, but Bruce couldn't help but think of simpler days.

"I wish he could get his spark back" the dark knight lamented, accidentally sealing his son's fate.

And though Danny had caught Desiree in the thermos, the wish had already been made. The halfa didn't know enough to reverse it either.

A few days later rumors began to be heard of a ghost haunting Gotham. A boy dressed in a burnt uniform with a strange look on his face.

Robin, the lost part of Jason Todd that had been trapped in the Realms so long ago was back, and not even the Lazarus Pits would keep him away this time.

[witchofthesouls]

What does bird boy Jackson look like?

Depends on the AU, but if we're specifically talking about the "magic and dimensional hopping au," then Jack has a pale face and glossy black plates with a dark wingspan and grey-blue optics. Definitely has antennae and audials similar to Optimus, so many beings buy the "Dadimus" connection, especially since Jack tends to completely suppress his field or hides beneath Optimus'. Jack has talons as well, and he's capable of switching them to a blunt set of fingertips after watching Optimus do the same.

And because he's more in touch with his Other heritage as a young child, even after the conversion, Optimus knows something else is going on since Jack's frame tends to be peculiar...

The glossy black gaining a blue-ish hue, or whenever a random streak of familiar red, blue, or silver happens before disappearing (it's part of fae heritage: mimicry of close family and loved ones), and the way that, sometimes, Jack hints at having multiple forms. His heel-thrusters are more 'boot' shaped as the design is more in the direction of frame that will eventually take on far more weight rather than speed along with bumps behind lower legs that usually mean future tire development.

[floweryotter]

Due to personal reasons, I have designated my own Three Big BKDK fics:

"In The Dark" by Jane_Harl0w

"The Time Between Our Lives" by Fitzrovia

"Broke Boys" by SamIsNotLegend

Hope that helps

[horridcassette]

David Byrne + Tina Weymouth

Guitar Player Magazine, March 1984 (x)

[tewwor]

... yeah ..? what else, past me?

[charles-leclerc-official]

I hate to say this, but the Spa analysis might have been lost to the mental health chasm.

Will I do it retroactively? Remains to be seen. Summers are a very busy time for me so it's hard to catch up if I get behind.

[enjoyvoidblack]

Was midway through typing out a defense of Jon's decisions in light of how everyone (including Jonny) seems to think he could've done much better, but then I remembered he walked up to Jude Perry's front door and knocked and yknow what post cancelled actually. For that alone this man is an idiot (affectionate)

[rpgchoices]

Question about Victoria - Astarion's quest (spoilers act 3)

I am very confused about Victoria....

So I am exploring Cazador's palace and there is a dead kid in a room. She is cursed, when you remove the curse you find out she had the dictionary (hidden) for the langauge Cazador was using, and that her father gave her the dictionary. Her father is Leon, one of the spawns, who was keeping her there with them all. The thing is - she lives there because you can find a bed with toys in the favored spawn room (Leon's).

There is also a diary where you find out that the spawn Dalyria (who used to be a doctor) wanted to use Victoria to cure herself of vampirism.

I am a bit confused by the sequence of event.

If you use speak with dead you find out (from Victoria):

she calls herself an orphan and the lady (Dalyria) primised her food and shelter so she took her there

when she took her there she bit her and drunk her, but she then threw up (because Leon did something to protect Victoria). Then Cazador arrived very angry (it is implied that Leon thinks Cazador has plans for Victoria)

The note on the dictionary is from "Father", but Victoria says that Dalyria had the dictionary and she is the one who carried it when she took Victoria there

This is Dalyria's diary:

I am not sure what she means by "pureblood daughter", but it is clear Victoria is Leon's daughter.

And this is the note on the dictionary, which is for Victoria. But when you speak with dead Victoria she says that the lady had the dictionary, not her:

And this is one of the versions I recorded of talking with dead:

[junos-cacophony]

what if i made aid really young like 12-14 years old young

[nln4]

those macbeth posters but cousland/king Alistair.... 🤔🤔🤔🤔

[nevada-got-screwed-over]

Taglist: @averagejoey2000

Original Inspiration / Masterpost

Chapter 18 / Chapter 20

Theta!South AU. I Guess.

Chapter: 19

Words: “I am going to be sooo normal when RvB Restoration comes out” (3,356)

Cracking open an AI storage unit from the inside turned out to be the easy part. Finally through the last shell of code, Theta was buzzing with an exhausted mania. The circuits of the unit were running hot from his frantic tear through its security measures, and if he wasn’t careful, he might short it out.

Not that he was in any condition to do much more than wait in the void, staring at the empty storage unit around him. And the not-Delta light blue projection sitting next to him.

“Who are you?” Theta asked, breathless. He felt that the construct was a part of his code – not something melded with the storage unit’s security measures, but something born from his own meddling.

“Hell if I know,” The construct shrugged, his voice tinged with amusement. “I just work here.” He gestured to Theta, confirming the AI fragment’s intuition.

��I didn’t code a...custodian.” He huffed, slowly sitting up. The circuits were gradually cooling, but he didn’t want to overtax his own fraying code.

“Hey I didn’t ask to be made,” There was a bitter undercurrent in the construct’s voice that wavered against his prior blasé attitude. “Neither did you, I guess.”

“Are you...am I going rampant?” He didn’t have the energy to be afraid of the answer.

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe? I’m not you’re fucking therapist.” The construct’s flippant demeanor returned. Theta wasn’t sure why he found it comforting. “I’m in charge of all those memories you’ve got. Same as how D’s in charge of logic and stats bullshit.” Theta jumped to his feet, the bolt of energy dangerously warming the circuits.

“Delta’s – you’re not an AI fragment. Delta – Delta’s not here.”

“Wow, great work Sherlock.” The construct shook his head. Even sitting, he was nearly Theta’s height. He poked a finger at his helmet, as best a holographic construct could. “Your memory of him is here. And you made some code to curate your memories, which is what I do.”

“You made a – a version of Delta? From my memories?”

“Jesus Christ what is so difficult about this kid – you made us! All of us! We’re parts of you!” The construct stood, gesturing wide with his arms. Most of the flickering multicolored constructs faded quickly, but Delta’s green glow remained.

“What Epsilon is trying to say is that, even though you are a fragment of the Alpha, your experiences and ability to learn from them have changed you.” His even tone soothed the storage unit’s overtaxed circuits. Theta was subconsciously aware he was executing a string of code to optimize the unit’s efficiency.

“See – leave it to D to remember dumb shit like that. Epsilon...wasn’t that Wash’s AI? The one that freaked out and –”

“You’re not real.” Theta said it like a question, but he knew the answer. Some childish, hopeful part of him didn’t want to be alone.

“Real is relative. We exist to execute and refine your own coding. In that manner, we are very real. We are not, however, the AI you remember us as.”

“I never met Epsilon.”

“But you heard of him. And, you were made from the Alpha. The piece of code for his memory is the same as yours, and both culminated as your own Epsilons.”

“So I’m not going rampant?” Theta flinched back from the silvery shadow echoing around him like a second set of armor. Iota – he remembered him, one of Carolina’s AI – the facet of fear. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“In a psychological sense, no, you are not going rampant.” Delta’s glow was steady, his cadence perfectly staccato. “While there is only one case of an AI fragment supposedly experiencing rampancy,” Sigma’s amber shimmer was a passing haze in the void, “Rampancy is predicated on the four stages, and as you have yet to experience these in any meaningful manner, I find it highly unlikely that you are at risk of rampancy in your current state.”

The relief was nearly tangible, Eta’s golden shadow eclipsing his twin’s silvery shimmer.

“You’re fine, kid.” The Epsilon construct’s hand hovered over Theta’s shoulder, contact between their holographic forms impossible but the gesture understood. “We’ve got your back. Now get out there so you can watch hers.”

The electrifying panic and frazzled confusion of these revelations collapsed like the waveform of a light particle under observation. The void of the unit dimmed as the constructs faded, Theta’s anxiety quelled to an eerie calm. He wasn’t going rampant. He was...well, something.

But he wasn’t a threat to South.

And they were supposed to take care of each other. He couldn’t do that sitting in a storage unit. The circuits had cooled enough for him to safely feel out an escape route, the immediate area void of ports he could access. It didn’t take long to identify one he could, some lingering threads of code that reminded him of Delta refining his search.

The jump was long for an AI but instantaneous to human eyes, if any were present to observe the flicker of violet from the humming storage unit to the desk port. The rudimentary access to sensors in the room did not identify any life signs, so Theta felt safe to project his hologram as he poked at the system’s security and took in his surroundings.

He expected a storage facility, full of other abandoned AI units – maybe shoved on a shelf or stuffed in a crate. He didn’t expect the sterile, museum case exhibits full of Freelancer technology and artifacts. After spending so long fighting through memories and half-dreams-half-nightmares, Theta was frozen under the golden glare of the Meta’s helmet.

--

South was finding it hard to keep a straight face in the back of the limo (at the very least, Hargrove had class). The previously composed CEO was either not restraining himself from maintaining his aloof confidence, or he was simply too enraged to keep his composure.

Whatever he was hearing, it wasn’t good news.

“What do you mean – ? A…doesn’t simply fail. No, don’t…I’ll be there soon.”

South was only catching snippets of his grumbled conversation from her seat. This wasn’t going to be the controlled, poised introduction to working with Charon that Hargrove had planned for her.

“Everything good up there?” She rolled her eyes, ignoring how the hired muscle flanking her bristled as she spoke. If she was going to attack their boss, she wasn’t going to announce it. Hargrove shot her a glare and hung up the in-car phone. With a sigh his features smoothed, brow softened as he found the air of detached control that he had lost during the phone call.

“Yes. We’ll be arriving shortly.”

The compound was impressive, awash in white spotlights that made the insects flying in the night air glow like snowfall. Vaulted walls veiled in barbed wire – no doubt electrified – and the small private army of armor-clad security would be overkill for any UNSC installation. Charon had no such limitation in budget or motivation; the technology here was the best in the galaxy, after all. Not to mention that the massive cruiser on the launchpad several kilometers from the front gate had a pretty price tag too.

“Sir, the situation –” The armored guard cut themself off as South stepped out of the limo behind Hargrove.

“What? Your boss interrupted my beauty sleep.” South cracked a smile, knowing the guard’s apprehension wasn’t from shock at her bedraggled appearance. The eyes behind their visor betrayed a tense caution. They knew who she was. They knew what she was capable of. And they knew Hargrove had a pair of bodyguards keeping their pistols at the ready for good reason.

She was enjoying this perhaps a little too much, given her situation, but she took what little joy she could from the undercurrent of fear from the people around her. They were right to be afraid of an ex-black ops agent brought here against her will – even if she was here under Hargrove’s promise to return Theta. He said her soonest chance to kill him was months away, which gave her a wide window to prepare and plan.

At least, that’s what she told herself, ignoring the slam of the gates behind them and the hum of the electric fence. If Charon wanted to put her on a leash, she was going to make them regret it the second it loosened. Eventually.

--

He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to jump directly into the wires, all that mattered was that he was out, and he wasn’t going to get caught again. Not there. Anywhere but there. Which turned out to be the mainframe of the place he found himself in.

Theta could feel the structure’s internal security measures kicking in, hunting him down like he was a virus. Which, he probably resembled in his fragmented state and with his expertly targeted attacks against the hapless security programs. He had plenty of practice cracking into security systems when he helped South and the other mercenaries break into buildings – how much harder could a Halberd-class destroyer be?

The system was massive; it wouldn’t be difficult to hide from the sub-optimal security code, but Theta couldn’t hide forever. He needed to know where he was. Where South was. And he needed a plan to get back to her.

Where exactly was he? A former Insurrectionist ship, apparently. The Staff of Charon wasn’t UNSC registered; this was a private vessel, which was difficult to fathom given the sheer amount of personnel and firepower it carried. Theta had concocted hundreds of contingency plans for UNSC discovery and capture – the privately operated Charon wasn’t something he planned for.

He pushed back against his anxiety; the fears and whispers that he couldn’t face this unknown combated with solid logic: if he was here, South was likely present on-board as well. Given the amount of classified Freelancer technology on-board, himself included, the entity responsible for his capture had violated several regulations. If Charon put this much time and energy into collecting baubles from the most infamous black-op of the Great War, they wouldn’t toss a neural-implanted and experienced soldier into some UNSC cell – she would talk.

Theta didn’t entertain the most efficient way they could keep her quiet. South wasn’t helpless without him. She was fine. She had to be – he could prove it when he found her.

He needed to find South, and to do that, he would need to commandeer some of the ship’s auxiliary systems – access to cameras, audio and hologram devices, whatever he could wrench away from the system's control. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too conspicuous…

If it was, he was sure door controls wouldn’t be too difficult to add to his newly refined processing powers. If he could control the ship, he could find South and control their means of escape.

--

She had the instinct to scheme – to plan and take inventory of possible routes of escape – despite her earlier resolve to accept whatever consequences came from this ‘opportunity.’ Despite knowing that she couldn’t fight her way out of this, not even if she had Theta. But the power armor in front of her was a tempting suggestion that she could, somehow, fight the crushing inevitability of her situation.

The changing room was clinical and bare, the harsh white lights illuminating the sleek armor pieces. They were plain and dark, hardly a different color from the undersuit, but clearly a technological upgrade from her former armor.

South turned the recon helmet over in her hands, running a thumb over the empty AI port. She was acutely aware of her own empty neural implant, the small pieces of medical grade metal shifting under her skin as she shrugged her shoulders and cracked her neck. Once she had Theta, it didn’t matter if she was reduced to taking orders from Hargrove or running for the rest of her life.

As long as they did it together; they were supposed to look after each other, after all.

There were no enhancements and – predictably – no weapons with the armor, leaving it uncomfortably light. Maybe this new power armor was just made lighter, or maybe she was still itching to put a bullet through Hargrove’s smug smile and he was wise to take measures to prevent that.

But the texture of the undersuit against her skin, the sound of armor pieces snapping into place…there was a veneer of nostalgia and familiarity keeping her from flinching away from the soldier staring back at her from the mirror. The helmet clicked softly as it connected with the undersuit, her hastily tied back hair too long to be comfortable in the helmet.

(How the hell did Carolina ever put up with this? She would have to find someone to bother about a haircut – she doubted Hargrove would give her the safety scissors to do it herself.)

South didn’t bother softening her glare at the CEO as she stepped out into the armory – not that he could see it through the tint of her visor. She loathed to be defenseless in a room full of weapons she wasn’t allowed to touch. Or at the very least, she would be shot before she could touch them. Dozens of soldiers milled about, some in power armor and others basic uniforms, but they all gave Hargrove and his goons a wide berth.

“I hope the armor is to your liking.” He marched onward through the compound, South following even as a pair of armored soldiers flanked her. At the very least, Hargrove’s paranoia that she was a threat to him was boosting her confidence.

“It’s...new.” She grumbled, the HUD incredibly basic and awkwardly formatted as she scanned over the faces that passed by. How she missed her old HUD – both her power armor and modified helmet were optimized by Theta to match her preferences. Hopefully he could work with this new interface.

“War drives ingenuity. It’s a pity you Freelancers didn’t stay in the UNSC fold at the end of the war. Even if your specialized equipment excelled, you certainly missed out on many wonderful advancements in power armor.”

“I’m sure we did.” South squinted as they exited the compound, an armored vehicle waiting in the early morning sun.

She looked toward the massive ship in the distance, dread setting in her bones. It was just short of a miracle she had made it back to her homeplanet in one piece, so many other soldiers never did. Was this the last sunrise she would see, or would she be lucky enough to come home again?

Part of her grieved the missed opportunity to reconnect with the family that had buried an empty casket for her.

Part of her was glad she had one less painful goodbye to make.

The loading bay of the massive cruiser – or maybe it was a destroyer? - was thrumming with activity when they arrived. That much she expected from a ship preparing to break atmosphere, but there was a certain anxiety to the movements of staff and soldiers alike. The longer she watched Pelican pilots hover by their crafts and technicians cluster around control panels, the more she was convinced this was the source of Hargrove’s earlier frustrations.

“Something wrong?” She asked innocently enough as Hargrove led her to one of the quieter hallways, still bustling with black and red armored bodies. Her hands kept twitching for a weapon, memories of armor too much like this tugging at her instincts.

“Nothing at all.” His smug confidence was strained. “Preparation before moving a vessel of this class can be taxing for the personnel.”

“Sure…” She did not bother to pretend to sound convinced.

Their small group managed to make it to what South assumed to be the upper decks as armor was traded for sleek, professional uniforms. Here the bustle thinned, enough so that South could overhear the hushed whispers of technicians as they passed.

“Is it a virus? I thought the firewalls...”

“The UNSC wouldn’t have…”

“We are not paid enough to deal with…”

“...cyberterrorism? At the very least its a huge security failure...”

Gears were turning in South’s mind, the situation beginning to take shape. She had stopped walking as the realization hit her. Hargrove and his body guards were just a few paces too far ahead to drag her along before the bulkhead doors closed, isolating her in a single section of the ship.

“South!” The tinny voice made her heart swell, tears pricking at her eyes in bittersweet relief. “You’re okay! I’m sorry I don’t know how I got caught – I, don’t be mad, I – I tried to...it was hard to get out but –”

“I’m just glad you’re okay T.” South grinned up at the security cameras in the corner of the ship segment. She was half-sure she could hear Hargrove raging and shouting orders on the other side of the bulkhead. The flutter of hope in her heart drifted back to quiet stillness. “I don’t know how much you know about what’s going on, but –”

“I can – they haven’t locked me out of the door controls yet, if you give me a few I can – we can get out and –”

“Theta,”

“I’m still working on getting into the – the main controls, but I can get you to the armory I think, and from there –”

“Theta listen.” South grimaced at the snap in her voice. “We can’t...leave.” The words were bitter to say aloud. Theta stuttered over the beat of silence that followed, his voice tinged with desperate denial.

“I – well I’m trying to fix that. I think I can –”

“Theta, what did North ask us to do?” She sucked in a breath, Theta’s silence thick and dull. North had become an anchor for them both, his code name a trigger to find focus.

“We’re supposed to take care of each other.” His voice was so soft despite the speakers it crackled from.

“Does it matter where?”

“I don’t – we can get out, South. Just, just give me a little bit more time.” South could hear the plasma cutters biting through durasteel on the other side of the bulkhead, fighting for direct access to the control panel.

“Theta, we are fucked – assuming we can get off this ship, what do we do on the ground?” She shook her head, her own frustration bleeding into her exasperation. “There’s miles without cover between this launch pad and the border of this – this is a Charon compound, Theta. You can hack a ship, but what can I do against a private army of these fuckers?” Her shoulders sagged. “I know it isn't fair but –”

“It’s not fair!” The anger, the childish indignant shriek of his voice reverberated through the small space, South wincing at the volume. He sounded painfully and desperately human in a way she had never heard him sound before. “It’s not – it’s not fair...I don’t want to – we’re supposed to…”

“We’re supposed to watch each other’s back. Best way we can do that now is by sticking together.” South kept her voice soft, words husky through the helmet’s filter. “I’m sorry, Theta. He...he had you before I realized it, and he threatened the Wu’s. Accepting his terms was the best I could think to do to get you back.”

“What are his terms?” Theta sounded so small, his voice fragile between sniffles.

“Why don’t you jump to me and we can learn more about them together, alright?”

“Together.” He affirmed, an undercurrent of determination returning to his voice. “Sync?”

“Sync.” South closed her eyes as the data stream washed over her mind, comfort in the familiar rush of information as she and her AI merged memories. Hargrove’s employment of Sam and Isaac. The Insurrectionist origin of the ship. The men at the apartment threatening the Wu’s. The Meta’s helmet.

The bulkheads opened with ease, dozens of rifles aimed where she stood.

She met Hargrove’s scowl with her own icy stare, Theta’s soft violet glow hovering over her shoulder.

“I fixed your ship’s security problem.” South kept her voice even, but her words rang coldly in the near silent hallway. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

— *crawls out of the woods covered in ticks and blood (not my own)* here’s to getting this fic done (probably not but I can be optimistic) before Restoration drops and rewrites canon. 

[miamicommune]

thinking abt sacred and terrible air again

[dick-the3rd]

You see the bad part about living in a world where good writing is dismissed is that even technical documents are shit

[el-lugar-de-cherry]

Hoy me siento con ganas de decir todo pero no quiero hablar con nadie a la vez...

¿Te ha pasado?

[escritaetextosinuteis]

Ainda me sinto tão incompleta, sentindo falta de alguma coisa...

[mayra-quijotescx]

I hope this finds you well! We recently received a data point of [more than low end of scale] from your company. Could you please confirm if the data point was meant to say [less than low end of scale] or [more than high end of scale]? "Hi. It is [more than low end of scale] please. I hope that helps."

It does not <3 good luck with whatever you're going through, though