#database performance improvement

[thedbahub]

Boosting Performance in Azure: A Deep Dive into the Azure Boost Feature

Let’s take a closer look at a groundbreaking addition to the cloud computing landscape, the Azure Boost feature, and unravel its potential to redefine Virtual Machine (VM) performance in terms of network and storage speed. As we navigate through the ever-evolving cloud infrastructure, Microsoft Azure has thrown a new card on the table – Azure Boost. This feature promises to amp up the game for…

[8techlabs-blog]

How to Balance Fixing Performance Issues and Adding New Features in Web Applications?

In today’s digital landscape, web applications are essential for business operations, marketing, and consumer involvement. As organizations expand and consumer expectations rise, development teams are frequently confronted with the difficult task of balancing two key priorities: addressing performance issues and introducing new features.

While boosting performance improves the user experience and increases efficiency, new features are required to remain competitive and meet market demands. Prioritizing one over the other, on the other hand, might have negative consequences—performance concerns can lead to a poor user experience while failing to innovate can result in a competitive disadvantage.

This blog delves into how to balance improving performance and introducing new features to web apps, allowing firms to satisfy technical and market demands efficiently.

Why Balancing Performance and New Features Is Crucial

A web application‘s success depends on both its performance and its features. However, relying entirely on one might result in imbalances that impair both user happiness and business progress. 

Performance:Performance is an important component that directly influences user retention and happiness. Users can become frustrated and leave if the application has slow loading times, crashes, or problems. Ensuring that your web application runs smoothly is essential since 53% of mobile consumers would quit a site that takes more than three seconds to load. 

New Features:On the other hand, constantly adding new features keeps users interested and promotes your company as innovative. New features generate growth by attracting new consumers and retaining existing ones who want to experience the most recent changes.

The dilemma is deciding when to prioritize bug fixes over new feature development. A poor balance can harm both performance and innovation, resulting in a subpar user experience and stagnation. 

Common Performance Issues in Web Applications

Before balancing performance and features, it’s important to understand the common performance issues that web applications face:

Slow Load Times: Slow pages lead to higher bounce rates and lost revenue.

Server Downtime: Frequent server outages impact accessibility and trust.

Poor Mobile Optimization: A significant portion of web traffic comes from mobile devices and apps that aren’t optimized for mobile fail to reach their potential.

Security Vulnerabilities: Data breaches and security flaws harm credibility and user trust.

Bugs and Glitches: Software bugs lead to poor user experiences, especially if they cause the app to crash or become unresponsive.

Strategic Approaches to Fixing Performance Issues

When performance issues develop, they must be handled immediately to guarantee that the online application functions properly. Here are techniques for improving performance without delaying new feature development: 

Prioritize Critical Issues:Tackle performance issues that have the most significant impact first, such as slow loading times or security vulnerabilities. Use analytics to identify bottlenecks and determine which areas require urgent attention. 

Use a Continuous Improvement Process:Continuously monitor and optimize the application’s performance. With tools like Google PageSpeed Insights, you can track performance metrics and make incremental improvements without major overhauls. 

Optimize Database Queries:Slow database queries are one of the leading causes of web app performance issues. Optimize queries and ensure that the database is indexed properly for faster access and retrieval of data. 

Reduce HTTP Requests:The more requests a page makes to the server, the slower it loads. Minimize requests by reducing file sizes, combining CSS and JavaScript files, and utilizing caching.

  5. Leverage Caching and CDNs:       Use caching strategies and Content Delivery Networks (CDNs) to deliver content quickly to users by storing files in multiple locations globally.

Why Adding New Features is Essential for Growth

 In the rapidly changing digital environment, businesses must continually innovate to stay relevant. Adding new features is key to maintaining a competitive edge and enhancing user engagement. Here’s why:

User Expectations:Today’s consumers expect personalized experiences and constant innovation. Failure to add new features can lead to customer churn, as users may feel your web application no longer meets their needs.

Market Differentiation:Introducing new features allows your application to stand out in the marketplace. Unique functionalities can set your app apart from competitors, attracting new users and increasing customer loyalty.

Increased Revenue Opportunities:New features can lead to additional revenue streams. For example, adding premium features or new integrations can boost the app’s value and lead to increased sales or subscription rates.

  4. Feedback-Driven Innovation:       New features are often driven by user feedback. By continuously developing and adding features, you create a feedback loop that improves the overall user experience and fosters customer                 satisfaction.

Read More: https://8techlabs.com/how-to-balance-fixing-performance-issues-and-adding-new-features-in-web-applications-to-meet-market-demands-and-enhance-user-experience/

[cloudolus]

How to Scale Amazon RDS | Optimize Database Performance and Capacity

Step 1: Access the Amazon RDS Console - Log in to the AWS Management Console. - Navigate to the RDS service.

Step 2: Vertical Scaling - Modify Instance Size - Select the RDS instance you want to scale from the Databases section. - Click on "Modify." - Choose a larger DB instance class under Instance specifications. - Click "Continue," then "Modify DB Instance." - Choose whether to apply the change immediately or during the next maintenance window.

Step 3: Horizontal Scaling - Set Up Read Replicas - Select the RDS instance you want to replicate. - Click on "Actions," then "Create read replica." - Choose the DB instance class and Multi-AZ options if required. - Configure the VPC, subnet group, and security groups. - Click "Create read replica."

Step 4: Enable Multi-AZ Deployment - Select your RDS instance from the Databases section. - Click on "Modify." - Under Availability & durability, check the Multi-AZ deployment option. - Click "Continue," then "Modify DB Instance."

Step 5: Monitor Performance - In the RDS console, navigate to Monitoring. - Review metrics such as CPU utilization, memory usage, disk I/O, and database connections. - Use these metrics to determine if further scaling is necessary.  

***************************** *Follow Me* https://www.facebook.com/cloudolus/ | https://www.facebook.com/groups/cloudolus | https://www.linkedin.com/groups/14347089/ | https://www.instagram.com/cloudolus/ | https://twitter.com/cloudolus | https://www.pinterest.com/cloudolus/ | https://www.youtube.com/@cloudolus | https://www.youtube.com/@ClouDolusPro | https://discord.gg/GBMt4PDK | https://www.tumblr.com/cloudolus | https://cloudolus.blogspot.com/ | https://t.me/cloudolus | https://www.whatsapp.com/channel/0029VadSJdv9hXFAu3acAu0r | https://chat.whatsapp.com/D6I4JafCUVhGihV7wpryP2 *****************************

*🔔Subscribe & Stay Updated:* Don't forget to subscribe and hit the bell icon to receive notifications and stay updated on our latest videos, tutorials & playlists! *ClouDolus:* https://www.youtube.com/@cloudolus *ClouDolus AWS DevOps:* https://www.youtube.com/@ClouDolusPro *THANKS FOR BEING A PART OF ClouDolus! 🙌✨*

[covid-safer-hotties]

Long COVID is not the same for everyone: a hierarchical cluster analysis of Long COVID symptoms 9 and 12 months after SARS-CoV-2 test - Published Sept 19, 2024

Abstract Background Identifying symptom clusters in Long COVID is necessary for developing effective therapies for this diverse condition and improving the quality of life of those affected by this heterogeneous condition. In this study, we aimed to identify and compare symptom clusters at 9 and 12 months after a SARS-CoV-2 positive test and describe each cluster regarding factors at infection.

Methods This is a cross-sectional study with individuals randomly selected from the Portuguese National System of Epidemiological Surveillance (SINAVE) database. Individuals who had a positive RT-PCR SARS-CoV-2 test in August 2022 were contacted to participate in a telephonic interview approximately 9 and 12 months after the test. A hierarchical clustering analysis was performed, using Euclidean distance and Ward’s linkage. Clustering was performed in the 35 symptoms reported 9 and 12 months after the SARS-CoV-2 positive test and characterised considering age, sex, pre-existing health conditions and symptoms at time of SARS-CoV-2 infection.

Results 552 individuals were included at 9 months and 458 at 12 months. The median age was 52 years (IQR: 40–64 years) and 59% were female. Hypertension and high cholesterol were the most frequently reported pre-existing health conditions. Memory loss, fatigue or weakness and joint pain were the most frequent symptoms reported 9 and 12 months after the positive test. Four clusters were identified at both times: no or minor symptoms; multi-symptoms; joint pain; and neurocognitive-related symptoms. Clusters remained similar in both times, but, within the neurocognitive cluster, memory loss and concentration issues increased in frequency at 12 months. Multi-symptoms cluster had older people, more females and more pre-existing health conditions at 9 months. However, at 12 months, older people and those with more pre-existing health conditions were in joint pain cluster.

Conclusions Our results suggest that Long COVID is not the same for everyone. In our study, clusters remained similar at 9 and 12 months, except for a slight variation in the frequency of symptoms that composed each cluster. Understanding Long COVID clusters might help identify treatments for this condition. However, further validation of the observed clusters and analysis of its risk factors is needed.

[thatskynews]

Happy timezones Sky kids!

Some of you may have experienced a problem where you appeared to be missing progress, unlocked outfits, and certain doors would not open. You may also remember that earlier today we performed some maintenance on our backend.

Your data is safe. That maintenance was specifically on one of many databases as part of our efforts to address problems which contributed to server errors last week. Unfortunately, that resulted in the database and its replicas doing so much work to accommodate the changes, that our backend services could not always get a response from them which is why you appear to have lost progress. The situation is improving, albeit much more slowly than we would prefer.

We are continuing our investigation into all of the root conditions to the original crop of server errors from last week, and we will continue to monitor for any changes in the current situation.

Thank you for your bug reports and for being so awesome while we work to address these issues!

[peskellence]

My Friends Call Me Richard

Part III

Explicit Content (18+)

Pairing: Reed900

Tags: M/M, Workplace Romance, FWB, Humour, Awkward Encounters, Smut

Previous Chapter

Read on AO3 here:

Summary: In a bid to improve his partnership (and secret intimate arrangement) with Detective Gavin Reed, RK900 embarks on a noble quest to spice things up. The solution? A new biocomponent.

Word Count: 10K

Tag List: @sweeteatercat @wedonthaveawhile @gho-stychan @tentoriumcerebelli @negative-citadel @faxaway @moriahadi424 @unicorn4genocide @cptjh-arts

(surprise at the end of the keep reading courtesy of @faxaway)

“What's the hold up in there?”

RK900 winced at the question. The transition from purchase to implementation had gone nowhere near as smoothly as hoped. He found himself locked in the bathroom, trying and failing to secure his new biocomponent.  

“I am beginning to question if this product is suitable for ‘self-installation’,” He mumbled critically, attempting to angle the phallus awkwardly between his legs. “Perhaps the store assistant issued the wrong product...” 

“Can you not cross-reference it against your dick database?” His voice was thin, dripping with impudence. No doubt reflective of his dwindling patience. “I mean, your scanners would flag if it was the wrong thing completely, wouldn't they?”

The android frowned, forced to concede that multiple checks had been completed—referring to both the product schematics and his own manufacturer details. None of this had shed any clarity on his current difficulties.

He sightlessly searched for a small circular slot at the base of his groin. Guiding nodules failed to adhere, clips gripping to nothing before slipping uselessly from his chassis.

"I am having issues adhering the scrotal extension to my lower access port.” He moved the component again, testing to see if a change in angle might reap greater success. 

Another failure followed, and fears emerged that the fault could relate to his own anatomy. Specifically, a factory defect he had previously been unaware of. 

With his options rapidly depleting, he turned to the crumpled instructional leaflet left abandoned by the bath. He scrutinised each step, noting multiple discrepancies between the printed text and the digital guidance displayed on his HUD. 

“Perhaps if you could offer assistance, then it would be easier to facilitate—” 

“There's a line,” Reed shot back, callously interrupting before he could finish. “Helping you clip on your junk like we're building IKEA furniture is where I draw it.” 

The rebuff was discouraging, as RK900 was left helpless—plagued by doubts relating to protocols and analytics that so intrinsically dictated his actions.

While his advanced processors should have been capable of determining a solution to the dilemma, they proved inexplicably incapable. Trapping him in a loop of trial and error.

He briefly considered contacting RK800 to see if he might be more willing to assist. This was before he realised there would be significant limitations on the support that could be provided remotely—and that Reed would undoubtedly be opposed to welcoming additional guests.

Despite logic indicating that surrender may be the only option, something inside him refused to concede. Attention locked on his primary directive, which dangled precariously at the forefront of his optics:

> ENGAGE IN SEXUAL INTERCOURSE WITH DETECTIVE REED.

It seemed callous to allow himself to fall at this final hurdle, no matter how staggering it proved. 

And so, he forcefully pulled himself from the despondent line of cognition. Determined to ensure that his efforts—and the current painful ordeal—would not be in vain. 

With parameters set and diagnostics refreshed, his system presented an updated list of prompts. Ones that sparked hope. Renewed faith that he wasn’t deluding himself or his partner on false pretences.

Following guidance, the android performed a precise 7-degree rotation of the component. He pressed forward, and for a split second, the attachment seemed to align—but the angle fell short of optimal. A prompt then advised that proper leverage was unobtainable from his current position.

To correct this, RK900 lifted one leg, calculating in real time the exact height needed. This elevation, as it transpired, aligned almost perfectly with Detective Reed’s toilet.

Foot steady on the edge of the bowl, he pressed again, slanting upward in another attempt to engage the clips. This time, with success, confirmed by a soft click which echoed through the room. 

The small noise provided unparalleled relief. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe the debacle was over. 

It was a blissful respite, if cruelly short-lived. 

The auditory cue had been deceptive. While alignment of the prongs had been achieved, their locking mechanism had not engaged, preventing adhesion to the connection point

A revelation that came too late. 

RK900 slipped back, and the attachments promptly folded, the intimate module tumbling down between his thighs.

Unfortunately, it seemed Detective Reed was geometrically opposed to lowering his toilet seat. The component struck against the porcelain dome, ricocheting like a pinball until it hit the base with a plop. Ripples of impact shook the water, and RK900 watched in despair as the flesh-toned silicone sank, engulfed by murky waves. 

His attention snapped to the door, where he knew his partner sat in wait. Listening closely, having undoubtedly heard everything that just transpired. 

“...What was that?” 

Thirium pumped in increased volumes through his circulatory system, pooling in his cheeks. His limited social directives were strained to their breaking point, faced with a sudden uptick in demand:

While Reed was far from preoccupied with good hygiene standards, he undoubtedly possessed some instinct to protect against hazardous waste. 

This left his next steps uncertain, as the android was trapped at an impasse. Painfully aware that some degree of deceit would be needed to placate his partner, but unsure how to achieve this with any conviction. 

“Richard.”

Then a confession slipped out, almost instinctively, before he could stop it:

“It appears I have dropped my phallus in your toilet.”  

Reed did not respond immediately, and while RK900 could not see his face, he could envision the disappointment etched upon it. The deep-set frown and contemptuous stare bore into him, demanding acknowledgement.

Then, a sound bridged the hush between the bathroom and bedroom. Auditory profiling identified the impact of flesh, as biophysical analysis confirmed no additional parties had entered the home.  

Reed had struck himself. Likely in the face—a ritualistic action performed during times of frustration.  

“ Why were you putting it on over the toilet?”

RK900 spoke quickly. An exercise in perseverance and self-preservation as much as it was an appeal to his partner. “There is no cause for alarm.” 

He then pivoted sharply, leaving the component submerged in the waste receptacle. The rubber tip reached for him, breaking the water's surface as though beckoning his return. 

Its pleas for assistance were ignored as he dropped to his knees, retrieving a discarded box from the grubby linoleum floor. The contents were cleared, save for a small drawstring bag containing samples of Cyberlife-issued cleaning supplies. 

“The component will be sanitised thoroughly before use,” the android said, a relieved sigh passing his lips. “I can assure you this incident will not impact our planned intimacy.”

“Like fuck, it won’t. I am not letting you put your toilet dick in me.”

The harsh retort struck like a slap and swiftly undermined any solace. Crestfallen, the RK unit returned focus to the toilet, gaze dropping limply to the prosthetic urethra staring up at him. A singular, narrow eye, which made him the subject of scrupulous judgment. Mockery. 

His grip tightened, reducing the box to a compact wad of cardboard. Then, his central processor whirred into overdrive, fervently seeking a solution to the current dilemma. 

“If preferred, we can return to the Cyberlife Store in order to—”

“ No .”

The fledging suggestion was cut down before it had any hopes of maturing. 

Despite this sweeping refusal of cooperation, Detective Reed eventually employed some degree of deduction. This was an innate reflex that existed beyond the parameters of conscious desire, culminating in the antipathic conceit he muttered under his breath. 

It was just barely audible through the wooden panel that divided them. Suggestions that it ‘didn’t matter’ if the extension was in mint condition, given the unsavoury conditions it would imminently find itself in. This, combined with allusions that he had accepted ‘worse’ from former partners.

The man capped the disgruntled train of thought with a more targeted instruction, spoken to the android: 

“Just make sure it’s clean enough , okay?” 

RK900 was appreciative to have been offered a compromise, accepting the conditions with a cordial nod. “My advanced debris detection will ensure the removal of all harmful chemicals and bacterial residue.” 

“...Debris detection?” the human questioned, snorting tersely as he did. “What are you, a fucking Roomba?”

“My operations are far more advanced than that of a vacuum cleaner.” 

This resulted in another burst of amusement—a childish snicker pelted against the wooden panel dividing them.

“Depends on the context…” This impish enjoyment soon subsided, followed by a return to thinly veiled criticisms. “Don’t rush; I’m having a blast . Nothing says ‘mind-blowing foreplay’ like waiting for your partner to disinfect his detachable dick.”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Detective,” the android replied, imitating de-escalation tactics he had observed from RK800. “Your patience and understanding are greatly appreciated.” 

The man was far from enchanted. Clicking his tongue, he mumbled another suggestion under his breath. This time, admonishing insincerity, accusing the android of sounding like a ‘fucking complaints department.’  

“Just don’t expect me to go down on you. I'd rather not scrub my tongue with lemon zest bleach.” 

RK900 doubted this product had been used on the toilet with any recency. Nonetheless, he brushed the comment aside.

Supplies prepared, he rolled up the sleeve of his uniform jacket and reached into the bowl to retrieve the lost component. As his hand became further immersed, the silicone base slinked back until it was wedged stubbornly in the U-bend. Enhanced manoeuvring was required to dislodge it, but after a few determined twists, it finally broke free.

With the phallus secured, he set to work on the sanitation process. The antibacterial spray was used until the bottle was nearly depleted, scrubbed with dutiful care into every moulded ridge and crevice. Unsheathed fingers were then swept across the length, assessing for any lingering debris trapped in the pockets. 

“Exterior sterilisation is at 99.8%,” RK900 concluded, as synthetic skin returned to his digits, “well above advisory levels for bodily insertion.”

“Sexy,” the human said dryly. There was a strange upward lilt that the android had come to recognise as synonymous with sarcasm. “Just try not to drop it in the shitter again.” 

Having learned from his previous mistake, RK900 lowered the toilet seat, establishing a more desirable platform for installation. He clipped the newly sanitised component back into place. This time, ensuring the fastening clasps had locked securely to his groin before receding. 

His operational software acknowledged the component and the installation of primary physical subroutines booted autonomously. Aesthetic changes also occurred, integrating the component into his wider physical form. 

“...Hey…Richard…?” The address came mingled with steady rapping against the door. “You’re a bit quiet. Just checking your engine is still running.”

RK900’s lips formed a response, but no sound escaped them. Instead, he was mesmerised by the ripples of movement materialising on the component. Iridescent patterns danced and shimmered, attempting to harmonise with the surrounding conditions.

He understood the device’s ‘complexion’ was predetermined and that a perfect colour match was not guaranteed. Nonetheless, it came close. Unsightly connection points smoothed almost seamlessly beneath a blanket of pale, freckled skin.

“... Richard ?” There was another bang. Louder and more insistent. “Look, I’m not expecting you to strut out of there like Cyberlife’s latest sexbot. If you can't get the thing on, it's fine. Seriously. Just stop messing around so we can—”

“External interrogation is almost complete. I’ll be out in one moment.”

RK900 dressed carefully, concealing his new feature beneath his work slacks in anticipation of a proper reveal. He wanted to avoid startling his companion with unexpected nudity, having learned from experience that such a greeting required meeting very specific criteria—ones he did not want to misjudge at this pivotal moment. 

As he opened the passage to the bedroom, the swinging door nearly collided headlong with Reed. He dodged to the side, cursing sharply, as one of the arms that had been habitually crossed over his chest moved to shield his face. 

“What the hell ?” he spluttered, tone brimming with accusation. “You nearly knocked me out, dipshit.”

“I did not anticipate you would be standing in such close proximity to the door.”

The sounds of annoyance trailed off as the man's disgruntled expression morphed into one of introspection. Suddenly aware that the action had revealed more than he intended.

“Whatever.” He grunted dismissively, drawing his arms back into their previous guarded position. “So, you done? Or do you still need to calibrate your balls?” 

“The component has been implemented in its entirety. Diagnostics are underway to confirm optimal physical functionality. Afterwards, I will be cleared to upload the related social protocols.” 

The human stared blankly as if the words had emerged as distorted, incomprehensible screeches. “I asked if it was on, not for a dissertation on the instruction manual.” 

RK900 recognised that he may have offered more information than necessary. In seeking to be thorough, he had unintentionally diminished a level of intrigue—the mystique that Reed wished to preserve in their impending intimacy.

“It is on and will be ready for use shortly. Apologies for the delay, Detective.”

Reed blinked again, his already furrowed brow pulling into an increasingly taut pinch. There was unrest that persisted around him, but it took a different form. More apprehensive than hostile. 

“Gavin,” he corrected. “I already told you, Gavin is fine when we're…” 

The sentence trailed off, wandering in line with his focus. It followed a path down the android’s form, inspecting every inch until it had locked onto the junction between his legs. His eyes widened, and his breath hitched, catching in his throat.

“How much longer is it going to take?” he questioned, motioning towards the concealed appendage in a loose circling gesture. “Have I got time to text Tina about how fucking insane this is?” 

RK900 took this impatience as a cue to progress the interaction. He leveraged all the research he had compiled, coupled with their pre-existing intimacy habits. This collective insight encouraged him to act assertively—while also imitating a degree of human spontaneity.

He advanced on the human, preparing to perform an action he had noted in several of the surveyed clips. Pressing a steadying hand to the small of the man’s back, he hooked his available arm onto the back of his thighs.

Gavin was raised in a fluid motion, resulting in a short, strangled sound—caught somewhere between a scream and a hiss. He was powerless to do anything but hook onto his partner’s neck, preventing unsteady weight from toppling back. 

Once adjusted to the sudden change in elevation, his lips parted, presumably to form words of protest. They were silenced pre-emptively by the firm, deliberate press of the android’s own.

It wasn’t long before the kiss was reciprocated. He engaged RK900 in a quiet chase, mirroring practised movements with tenacious enthusiasm. His heartbeat escalated, and the press of his mouth grew more insistent—matching each rumbled pulse that rattled his ribs. 

The android felt a flicker of satisfaction, his actions eliciting the exact response he had predicted. Ultimately, he pulled away, and mimicry ended as the man attempted to pursue the withdrawing contact.

“I can think of more entertaining ways to tolerate this delay...” 

RK900 paused, realising he was unsure how to proceed with this sentence. He took a moment to adjust his verbal subroutines, aligning them with the recently acquired licentious vocabulary. From this, he successfully crafted an appropriately alluring title of address:

“Hot lips.”  

This inspired a half-suppressed sound from his partner, akin to a deflating balloon. After a beat, breath was drawn back, hissed through clenched teeth, as the man sharply angled his head further into the room.

“Stop running your mouth and get a move on. Plastic asshole.”

RK900 was on the verge of reminding him that they had omitted the purchase of a silicone rectal cavity before understanding his meaning. He instead referred back to the audiovisual loops stored on his CPU, prioritising according to watch time and access frequency.

Feeling assured he had gathered all the necessary data for an optimal experience, he purposefully strode on. Approaching the bed before deftly sidestepping it and heading for the exit.

“Uh, where the hell are you going?” Gavin, still held in his grasp, attempted to resist his movement. One hand pressed against the solid foundation of his chest, pushing back in an action that had entirely zero impact. “The bed is over there, genius.”

“Your bed will not be required. This apartment has a balcony.” 

His partner gawped at him, lashes fluttering in confusion. If he were an android, RK900 was certain he would hear the whir of internal mechanisms—gears turning frantically, teetering on the brink of annihilation.

“Come again?”

Any excitement built during their kiss seemed to have fizzled completely. The android realised that while his data proved sound in a controlled environment, external factors undermined its practical reliability.

Memory banks cast echoes of the human's shuddering breath, slicing through the frigid winter air. The tip of his ruddy nose tucked into the folds of his hoodie as he attempted to shield it from the chill…

After reevaluating the situation, he stopped. His heels pressed firmly into the grubby carpet before angling upwards, prepared for reorientation. 

 “Of course, it is rather cold out. The bed will suit our needs for today.”

Retracing his steps, RK900 returned to his previous position at the foot of the bed. He held his partner over its surface before releasing his weight, permitting a descent into the linen. Despite the cushioned landing, Gavin yelped. His limbs fanned out in a star-like formation, braced for impact as the plush sheets rapidly engulfed him.

The android soon joined, placing hands on either side of his body, forming a tight cage. His captive stared through him, focus blighted by the recent momentum, as his jaw fell slightly agape. 

A smooth tilt guided it closed as RK900 supported his weight on a single arm. His fingertips skimmed coarse stubble, and his sensors registered that it had grown 2.3 millimetres since their last encounter—slightly longer than the detective’s preference. 

Resisting the urge to mention this, he instead leaned in, charting the overgrown trail with neatly peppered kisses.

Gavin tensed, although this response was not unanticipated.

It always took him some time to relax—when they were like this. The ripples of previously stringent prejudice, now mostly forgotten, still clinging to threads of fading significance…

Ties that unravelled beneath targeted pulses of breath—slow and rhythmic, designed to coax tightly held knots from muscles. Receptive warmth spread beneath reddening skin, extending outward until the body became loose and pliant.

The man's head tilted unconsciously, baring more of his neck—a wordless invitation for RK900 to deepen his exploration.

He established a new point of contact on the presently unblemished canvas, tracing it with a practised sweep of his tongue before clamping down with a firm press of teeth.

After applying suitable pressure to leave a mark, he pulled back, levying a rumbled address against the pulsing flesh. A premeditated salaciousness that was undercut by an instinctive slip back into professional titles:

“You're a dirty whore, aren't you, Detective?” 

Despite previous objections, Gavin did not appear upset. If anything, the dilation of his pupils, combined with the involuntary groan that tumbled from his lips, indicated the opposite.

Encouraged to proceed, RK900 maintained his focus on the man's throat. Sealing flesh between his lips and drawing gently on the freshly marked abrasion.

“ Shit.” The expletive trailed into a sigh as he squirmed keenly against a tide of rumpled linen.

“Such a needy slut.” 

The derogatory remarks felt odd—unnatural—coming from the android, yet they seemed to be the exact calibre of slander Gavin wanted. If the noises hadn't been enough, irrefutable evidence came in the growing snugness of his jeans.

He traced the stained length of the zipper, to which the concealed hardness beneath twitched back receptively. “Filthy—”

“Easy, Casanova.” The chiding was light and playful, entwined with a rich chuckle. “There's no need to rush; we’re just getting warmed up.”

RK900 swiftly identified the duplicity of this statement.

It was routine they had engaged in countless times before—in both personal and professional settings. His partner pushed away, under the pretence that RK900 would follow, seeking to pull him back. 

This was a challenge, demanding the RK900 to prove just how persistent he would be in retaining dominance.

Grasping the hand kneading idly into his bicep, he pinned it to the sheets. As he moved to scold the culprit—the resonance of his pitch dropped in line with his hips, which engaged the man’s own in a subtle rock. 

“I think you've already warmed up sufficiently." 

Then he paused, his mind stalling as it became clear he’d exhausted much of the risqué vocabulary he had been sourcing. 

Not wishing to shatter the illusion of salacious assuredness, he hastily constructed what he believed would be a logical evolution:

“...You…repulsive creature.”

Gavin appeared more perplexed than captivated by the address. The eager twitches RK900 had predicted were conspicuously absent as his nose wrinkled sceptically. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

Clearly, he was still adjusting to his companion speaking this way. Determining that greater exposure might expedite this adaptation, RK900 pressed on, adding to the deprecation:

“Your hygiene standards are subpar. The aroma you emit is deeply unpleasant.”

Lidded eyes snapped open, startled to alertness, and Gavin grimaced. Pressing his unrestrained hand to the android’s chest and pushing firmly:

“Okay. That’s enough. Drop it.”

RK900 stiffened. Questioning momentarily if he had made a mistake or if this was simply part of the licentious roleplay.

As Gavin held firm in his convictions, it became clear he had misjudged some aspects of his tolerance for humiliation—specifically, remarks relating to personal cleanliness. Comments he would be wise to scale back in the ongoing proceedings, which he committed dutifully to his memory backs…

Rumination cast in shifting patterns of yellow and red on the crumpled caverns of Gavin's face. The tense lines began to smooth as a flash of remorse tempered the flames in his accusatory glare.

“Let's just—” His hand jerked in an awkward flourish towards the android. Tracing erratic, disjointed patterns in the air before coming to rest between his legs. “Move on.”

It was not difficult to discern what was meant by this. To ensure that no further errors were made regarding the nuances of ‘dirty talk’, RK900 concluded now was the time to source additional support.

The Intimacy Protocol—which had been stored neatly in the back of his temporal processor, awaiting use—was promptly activated. As subroutines initialised, a cascade of sensory inputs flooded his system, sharpening every sensation with unnerving clarity.

Suddenly, he could feel everything . 

The most minute bunch of fabric rubbing against the creases of previously sensationless silicone. Artificial vessels pumped and swelled with increased thirium input as the appendage stiffened, brought to hardness with almost alarming efficiency. 

It was uncomfortable—surprisingly so—as the flesh began to strain against the oppressive binds of clothing. It pleaded for release, a call to action driven by longing the android had never experienced.

He soon responded, unable to withstand the excruciating currents pulsing through his groin. Hands fumbled to unclasp his belt, erratic movements defined by an uncharacteristic sense of urgency. The leather was almost split in two as it was yanked free—whipped back at great velocity. 

Gavin flinched, arching back quickly to evade impact. It wouldn't have been the first time that RK900 had struck him with his belt, although previous instances had been performed under strict instruction.

“ Holy shit—watch it, asshole — ”

This admonishment barely registered. The wayward currents had begun to ignite what could only be described as fire in his core. His stomach was a furnace; molten fallout spat at neighbouring biocomponents, threatening to burn through them.

The belt was discarded over the edge of the bed, its controlled descent thwarted by an extensive pile of laundry, which swallowed it whole into its pungent hold.

Gavin cursed again. This time, however, it was not the consequence of disapproval. He was staring at the android's arousal, eyes alight with what could only be described as spellbound curiosity. 

As though he were looking through the gates to nirvana, a higher plane of existence promised beneath the veil of Cyberlife briefs.

Hips were raised, and the pants slipped off, tumbling out of view in a single, fluid sweep. RK900 chose not to dwell on the creases that would have resulted from this callousness.

It was irrelevant, insignificant—a problem to be resolved later—

Provided his partner owned an iron—

WARNING — MULTIPLE SYSTEM ANOMALIES DETECTED. 

RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS…

He reeled, his mind overwhelmed by the shrieks of unruly electrical signals. Intrusive sentiments burrowed deeper into his processor, attempting to align with his more reasoned analytics. 

He took some consolation in knowing that the programme, however disorientating, was having the desired effect. With ignited zeal, Gavin gripped the hem of his shirt. Yanking it over his head before casting it aside, exposing the full length of his torso. 

The marred skin ignited his focus in a way it hadn't previously. RK900 was about to remove his undergarments when his companion—in an unusual show of consideration—moved to assist.

They seldom undressed each other, a familiarity he had been told was unfitting of their ‘casual’ arrangement. Despite this, he watched with quiet curiosity as Gavin crossed this line, looping his fingers beneath a taut band of elastic.

His cocky smirk, which was typically ever present during their encounters, was replaced by something quieter—more sincere. The digits lingered, flexing apprehensively as though preparing for their next move. 

Then the waistband was tugged, and the phallus sprung free from its confines. 

RK900 winced as he registered the cool air against his skin. It was sharp and biting, only exacerbated by the burning that continued to mount within him.

The dimensions of the phallus were expanded compared to its dormant state, aligning with the advertised specifications. The tip was tinged with a cool-toned flush, accentuated by a reflective sheen of biofluid. A lubricant that seemed to leak incrementally from the component, in which Gavin took particular interest. 

Despite previous claims that he would not be partaking in fellatio, his face drew tantalisingly close to the ‘toilet dick’. Halted inches from the arousal, blanketing it in a sequence of hot, ragged puffs. 

It sent ripples of sensation through hyper-sensitive receptors as RK900 was forced to grip the sheets beneath him. Speculating on how it might feel to be engulfed completely in Gavin's warmth and fighting the growing temptation to thrust himself into his mouth.

Before any intrusive impulses could get the better of either party, Gavin moved to palm the hardness. Tracing its length, applying testing pressure before enclosing it fully in a fist.

The sensation this triggered was indescribable. 

Thousands of microscopic pleasure receptors activated simultaneously, their collective murmurs building to wails that surged through his neural pathways. 

Then they released in a strained expulsion that tumbled from his lips. It was low and growled, not unlike the rumble of thunder, but with a distinctive metallic edge.

The noise was unlike anything he had ever produced, leaving both him and his partner temporarily stunned. Gavin was first to establish his bearings, doing so with a small, tentative squeeze. The expulsion repeated, and RK900 watched as spiralling patterns of red caught in the green of his partner’s sclerae. 

“ Holy shit.. .” The man was enraptured, scrutinising each choppy cycle of the LED as he brushed the tip of the component beneath his calloused thumb. “It feels so real.”

"Realism constitutes an integral aspect of its visual and functional design.” 

RK900 felt detached from the words, almost as though someone else was speaking through him. 

He found himself plunged deep into uncharted depths for both his body and mind. Thrashing helplessly as logical subroutines attempted to quantify his pleasure, assigning it values or comparing it to previously stored data. No parallels existed—and it was maddening.

His original self was fading fast, slipping into the foreground of his consciousness. Buried by a rampant tide of untamed cravings.

To touch and feel and taste —

> DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE

TEMPORAL FIREWALLS: COMPROMISED 

CORE BODY TEMPERATURE: 122°F — RISING

Any attempts to re-establish command soon proved redundant as Gavin began to move his hand. His fist pumped in a rhythmic motion, pressing ruthlessly into overworked sensors. 

“You can feel that, can’t you?” The tone carried a mischievous lilt, informing RK900 that no answer was required. 

His partner was already well aware of the effect the stimulation was having. Despite this, he pressed on, seemingly hellbent on goading some form of acknowledgement. 

“Does it feel good?” 

“Very much—” 

The situation was nearing critical as his system pressed for the urgent release of the excessive heat. Narrow vents along his chassis began to hiss, desperately dispersing the warmth in subtle bursts of steam.

He sincerely prayed that his companion would fail to notice this.

“—Perhaps too much,” he confessed, shuddering weakly. “I might have to make adjustments to the erogenous feedback levels.”

“Oh no you don't.” Gavin held firm on his length—as though he were wielding a prize. One that he refused to have stripped under any circumstances. “This was your idea. You wanted this. So strap in and enjoy the ride.”

Despite the assertion, there was a moment of hesitancy before the man proceeded. His 

grip slackened, and his rigid gaze softened with a flicker of vulnerability. Searching the RK’s own, as though seeking permission.

Something that was offered in the form of a slow, apprehensive nod. The android considered lowering sensitivity regardless, omitting to disclose this to his partner before ultimately deciding against it. He resolved to monitor his response to the stimuli, assessing just how much he could reasonably tolerate. 

A line of reasoning that unravelled within seconds as heightened pleasure consumed him. 

It became painfully clear why humans sought this relief so frequently. The tension that had gripped his core melted into blissful release, leaving his systems reeling. RK900 felt the vertebra of his neck slacken as his head flopped back, and a substantial pocket of warmth released in a long, heady groan. 

The temperature warning began to recede, fading until it no longer formed an active obstruction in his vision. He could see his partner clearly and found himself wholly ensnared by the sight. 

It felt like looking at him for the first time, as all the quirks and intricacies that once seemed innocuous were viewed through a fresh lens. Thick lashes cast a charming shadow over his eyes—simultaneously bright and sharp—yet clouded by a haze of lust.

As he kept stroking him, an impish grin played on his lips. The corner lifted, aligning almost perfectly with one of the numerous scars dotting his face.

The RK examined each, his eyes drifting as unseen threads gradually linked them. Rather than constructing a timeline for when the marks might have appeared, all he could think about was how appealing they were. Constellations of lived experience seamlessly woven into a dishevelled, roguish charm the man so effortlessly embodied.

Wandering focus pathed the way for another mental break, logic bleeding intrusively through the cracks. It reminded him that—while the sights and sensations he was experiencing were profoundly enjoyable—they did little to aid in fulfilling his primary directive. 

The moment of sensual connection shattered as a methodical presence pulled him back, seeking to clarify the logistical demands of the component, eliminating any confusion:

“Stimulation is not required to maintain my erection. It is procedurally activated and maintained, separate from arousal.” 

His show of consideration was met like a forceful blow to the face. Gavin winced, yanking his hand away from the hardness as though it were lined with razors. His crumpled expression revealed a mix of defeat and humiliation before the sentiments were smothered beneath a layer of disdainful hostility.

“...Fine then, asshole .” His tone was hardened in line with the firm clench of his jaw. “If that's how it is, I won't do shit.”

His arms then pulled into a lofty sprawl as if he were reaching the crest of a theme park ride, preparing to plunge down the slope. The descent began as he allowed his weight to fall carelessly onto the sheets.

“I’ll be a good little pillow princess, just for you.” There was an exaggerated flutter of lashes, the coy flirtation standing in contrast with the previous animosity. His feet planted firmly onto the linen before his knees dropped to either side. “Go on, big guy. Do your worst.”

The phrase felt almost scripted, like something from one of his videos.

He didn't mean to request that the RK900 knowingly underperform. On the contrary, he was vying for the opposite. An experience that rivalled and surpassed everything that had come before it.

It struck a chord within the android, sending powerful currents surging through overtaxed circuits. He felt reinvigorated, freshly incentivised to explore the potential of his upgrades, discovering—alongside his partner— precisely what he could do. 

Closing off visual and auditory fields to all extraneous distractions, he focused intently on the man before him. Positioning himself between his parted thighs, he swiftly set to work removing his jeans and undergarments.

Oral stimulation came far more naturally than it typically did. 

RK900 had anchored himself on his legs, kneading the lightly toned muscle in appreciative squeezes. His cheeks hollowed, and his lips pushed forward, the process almost reflexive as he inched his way down the length. He proceeded until the tip had struck the back of his throat, and the person attached rumbled in ardent approval. 

“ Holy shit —” Gavin carded his fingers tenderly through his hair before gripping tightly, knuckles pale from exertion.

The locks were pulled back, compelling the head to move with them. RK900 responded compliantly, releasing the tension in his jaw and permitting his mouth to recede with a wet glide up the arousal.

Just shy of breaching the seal, hardened flesh poised at the tip of his tongue, his head was thrust back down. Leading him to swallow his partner again, but with far greater tenacity. 

The man growled with primal delight as RK900 stared up at him with unwavering focus.

“ Your throat feels so good.” 

‘It could feel better’, his sexual programming silently countered. 

As directed, his laryngeal modulator began to oscillate. Rumbles crept upwards, travelling along the walls of his trachea until they vibrated the quivering flesh between them. The trembles synced with the heavy thrusts being levied at his throat until their movement grew erratic.

Hoarse groans were pulled in a pervasive frequency from his lips as Gavin faltered, losing any semblance of rhythm.

“Oh, fuck me —”

“With pleasure.” 

It was almost unsettling how clearly the android spoke, with his mouth so thoroughly full. Gavin failed to remark on it, too absorbed in his bliss to notice. Then RK900 pushed back hard, forcefully breaking the hold that clung to his scalp. He allowed his partner to slip from his mouth, a filmed gloss of lubricant serving as the only evidence of the encounter. 

Gavin whimpered as hopes for release were callously snatched, thrusting shallowly into the air his companion once occupied. The android, ignoring the protest, lifted himself into a kneeling position.

His hands lingered on the thighs, still pressing into the flesh—until, with a final, painful scrape of nails—they were released. He paused to admire the lingering traces of his hold, characterised by vivid, crescent-shaped indentations.

The human arched away from the sheets, hissing with sultry elation. This was interrupted when RK900 leaned in, hovering over him like an imposing shadow, provoking an instinctive retreat of his body.

Gavin completely embraced his role in the unfolding scene, entering a state of submission as he quietly readied himself for his partner. The RK assumed an appropriate role, gliding his hand along the length of his jaw. 

This gesture felt more instinctive—spontaneous—than its earlier incarnation. It was no longer a measured attempt to coax the man into heightened excitement but a display of authentic appreciation. His hold curved inward, tracing the contour of his lips before attempting to part them.

This force proved unnecessary as the mouth opened to him willingly.

His sensory pads hummed with activity, and he was overwhelmed by information, grappling for his attention. He was torn between notes of coffee and cigarettes, alongside peppermint gum that had been used to mask the bitterness. The prompts fissured his sights, cracks that multiplied as Gavin locked on, gripping the digits in a wet seal and pulling them in with practised fluidity. 

He mapped the outline of synthetic flesh, swept in guiding strokes of his tongue, moaning performatively as he did so. RK900 understood that the man derived no real pleasure from this, his mouth not equipped with any inherent erogenous properties. Despite this, his cardiac rhythm soared, mirrored in the shaky tremors of his breath.

It was a shame that Gavin had declined to put his mouth to full use. The android felt confident he would have enjoyed the process of him fucking it. 

Fingers were removed, teased from the heat in a long, playful curl. Gavin moaned again—the sound morphed into a complaint—as he shot his partner a defiant glare.

Underneath this, a playful glimmer shone through his narrowed gaze, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He was the embodiment of salacious anticipation, every inch of his body pleading to be pushed to its limits. Strained until it had no option but to submit fully to the android’s whim.

RK900 trailed his palm down the length of his neck, reaching the dip of his collar and lingering there momentarily before moving to the expanse of his chest. His lips joined the appreciation, applying tender pressure between raised pectorals. Then, they followed the central ridge of his chest, trailing downwards towards his navel.

He allowed Gavin to believe he would make a return to his crotch, moving a scant breath away from his length. It still held firm, twitching with need, desperate for the return of withheld stimulation. Instead, he sought to make use of the growing supply of lubricant that was amassing in his cheeks. 

With his head nestled between the man’s thighs, he lowered himself further until he halted just beneath the erection. Gathering a deposit of the material into the curl of his tongue, he pressed it firmly into his partner.

Gavin hissed in shock, although the sound was far from disenchanted, rolling smoothly into a husky grunt of approval.

RK900 began dipping in and out of his body, methodically teasing the opening, willing the tight muscle to relax around him. This was coordinated with the fingers his partner had so diligently coated, which also breached his warmth, moving in steady pumps.

Gavin relished every second. He pressed eagerly against the movements, chasing each flick and thrust until his companion brushed against a sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Shit—!”

The words that preceded this were entirely incoherent—a series of desperate, disordered fragments. His hips jerked upward, seeking as much depth as he could physically attain.

The sexual protocol was fast reaching its maximum operational capacity, processes moving in rampant succession, like pistons fired in the RK’s skull. Their motions carried him forward as charged words were rumbled against a needy cavern of warmth:

“Are you ready for me to do my worst?”

Gavin quivered as his words were repeated back to him, delivered with such indulgent richness that they drew a chuckle from his lips.

The sound ushered in a return to an all-consuming need, pooling rapidly between his legs as the fire in his gut reignited. RK900 was overcome with the desire to find a final, decisive release—immersed in the friction promised by fingers and mouth.

He aligned his hips with the entrance, securing greater access by gripping his partner's legs and lifting them over his shoulders. The movement coaxed any lingering vestiges of resistance to melt away, limbs reduced to limp, weightless extensions as he slowly inched forward.

Gavin took him keenly, pliant flesh yielding as it enveloped him with an almost unbearable intensity. The sensation was raw and visceral— achingly real—in a way that shattered every preconstructed expectation. RK900 was lost, untethered from the cold, ruthless precision Cyberlife had so painstakingly designed.

All that existed was him , stretching beautifully as Richard pressed deeper—refusing to stop until he was buried fully within his form. The man rasped, his back arched in wanton satisfaction as he clenched onto the android greedily.

Their bodies melded with flawless perfection, as though Gavin were made for this—made for him.

After a period of adjustment for both, Richard began to move. His hips manoeuvred in slow, languid rocks. Velvety walls charted with light pockets of friction until they quivered and tremored eagerly around every shallow thrust. 

Muscles and nerves screamed for release, urging the android to push harder into their hold. He did not respond immediately, teasing the prospect of heightened intensity until Gavin also cried out.

He was a whimpering mess, despairing as his every cloying reach fell tantalisingly short of its target. 

“Oh God—fuck— please —”

Richard no longer denied him, mercifully granting his wishes. His pace increased until he moved with inhuman intensity. The rickety foundation of the bed trembled beneath them; its metal headboard slammed repeatedly against the wall.

Cracks began to fracture the already chipped plaster, but Richard remained focused. He was absorbed in the sinful sounds rising from beneath him: every pant, every curse, an expression of pure, unfiltered need.

“Yes, that's it—just like that—baby—” 

This fractured address nearly halted several complex system functions. Gavin had never referred to him this way—or used any remotely comparable title.

It had sounded obscene as it rolled from his tongue, laced with such sinful promise that Richard felt wholly ensnared. At that moment, he could have laid claim to the man entirely, with no trace of doubt or ambiguity concerning who he belonged to.

There was no one else in the world who mattered. Just them, moving together in seamless unity, passion thickening the air that surrounded their bodies.

The android wasn't sure when he had started to moan, but the sounds were undoubtedly present. Spiralled above them as a storm, the needle dragging across a vintage record player, melding into the animalistic cadence of Gavin’s own cries.

Fraught springs joined the accompaniment, groaning beneath the mattress. They threatened to collapse under the demand of rapidly shifting weight, all the more vocal when Gavin raised a hand to his pelvis. Attempting to match the pace that had been established, he fell woefully short. Intoxicated frustration swelled in his eyes, marbling at the corners. 

His desperate contortions, the crumpled ecstasy of his expression, were like an invention of the android’s most elaborate fantasies. Fantasies he hadn’t known he was capable of having. 

That he shouldn’t have been capable of.

WARNING—URGENT

The visuals and sensations overwhelmed him, pushing untethered programming further into the background. Propelled into depths that were beyond the reach of recovery.

Because it was addicting —watching Gavin writhe and moan against sweat-soaked sheets, in the knowledge that he was the cause. A performance directed by and performed for his sights only. 

CRITICAL SYSTEM INSTABILITY.

The thoughts burned him. His code fractured, shattering to pieces. 

Then he smacked Gavin’s hand away, assuming complete authority over his pleasure. Working the length with skilled finesse, able to provide the weight and pressure the man's weakened grip was incapable of.

“ Fuck , I’m so close,” Gavin keened hoarsely, toes curled with pressure that wound increasingly tight. Coiled in his gut, radiating in fervent strums through his length. “ Keep going—”

Then, it all collapsed.

Subroutines glitched. Corruption spread like a disease, infesting every corner of his processor. Alarms bombarded him faster than they could be dismissed until warnings flooded his vision. 

A staggering wall of flashing crimson. 

MULTIPLE ANOMALIES DETECTED.

> CRITICAL MALFUNCTION IDENTIFIED.

> SOURCE—CENTRAL PROCESSOR. 

COMMENCING EMERGENCY DIAGNOSTICS…

Richard tried to carry on, gripped by crazed, all-consuming desperation. He did not want this to end, did not wish to cease seeing— feeling —Gavin the way he did now. 

Clinging to the man blindly, he attempted to carry him to his looming summit of completion. A determination that solidified his available hand, wrapped tightly around his throat. Squeezing hard, cutting oxygen and redirecting blood flow. Giving it no option but to pool in the swollen cock between his legs.

DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE. 

> ROOT THREAT IDENTIFIED RA9_15.EXE

The intimacy directive terminated, diverting all processes to counter the threat. 

Before shutting down, it provided one final instruction. How best to combine physical and verbal provocation to guarantee Gavin Reed's undoing: 

“You have been very bad, Detective .” His title was hissed—with an almost biting, contemptuous edge. “I'm afraid you have given me no other option but to punish you.” 

SYSTEM BREACH IMMINENT — IMMEDIATE ACTION REQUIRED. 

AUTOMATED DEVIATION DEFENSE PROTOCOL: ENGAGED.

ADVANCED FIREWALLS: ACTIVATED.

COMMENCING SOFT REBOOT…

Then everything vanished, leaving him adrift in a sterile expanse of blinding white.

When senses returned, his vision came first. Blinking to adjust, RK900 discovered that his ocular scope had cleared. A pristine state, marked only by a small string of diagnostics, neatly tucked in the upper left corner:

> REBOOT SUCCESSFUL. 

> THREAT NEUTRALISED. 

Remarkably, throughout the entirety of this mental reset, the momentum of his body had not stalled. Gavin remained blissfully unaware of the android’s momentary lapse, lost in his own throes of pleasure.

He squirmed against the oppressive grip still held on his neck—a resistance entirely for show, informed by the masochistic quirk of his mouth:

“Oh yeah? Just how bad have I been, plastic ?” 

It took RK900 a moment to realise the man was responding to something he'd said. Combing his memory stores, he was relieved to discover that most of the preceding events remained intact.

Regrettably, the Traci Protocol, which had governed much of his behaviour, was effectively obliterated. Its core processes were locked in quarantine and rendered irreparable. Without their guidance, he was unable to determine the optimal routing for their current dialogue path. This inspired a flicker of panic before he quickly suppressed the sensation, ensuring it wouldn’t surface externally.

Procedural muscular feedback was disabled in his face, locking it into its current neutral expression before he replied. “The list of your indiscretions is innumerable.” 

Gavin failed to detect any irregularities in his behaviour. Either that, or he chose to ignore them—too swept by his cresting tide of pleasure to drag himself back to earth. 

His hardness twitched and swelled urgently, pants mingled with throaty chuckles, flagging that climax was fast approaching. RK900 anticipated the spoils of his efforts spilling over, running in thick ribbons across his fingers, steeling his resolve to continue—

“You have a deep-rooted issue with authority. Most likely stemming from a turbulent relationship with your paternal figure.” 

Then, expanding pressure was dismissed as the vibrant excitement that had coloured his gaze receded with it. 

Gavin stared at him, a bewildered knot formed in the centre of his brow. The spasming twitches of his length quelled, with softening flesh that failed to respond to any stimulation.

“That’s, um…” He paused, clearly taken aback that the following explanation was even required. “...Could we not talk about my dad? When you’re balls-deep inside me?” 

Despite his limited grasp of interpersonal and family dynamics, RK900 could understand, when presented clearly, just how unfortunate this misstep had been.

Attempting to recover from the error, he brusquely nodded. Grappling to keep his tone level while hoping that his performance indicator would not undermine this effort. “Understood, it will not happen again.” 

Gavin proved unconvinced.

He was not a fool—quite the opposite—having demonstrated an exceptional talent for deductive and critical reasoning during their affiliation. Skills that were now being utilised, his eyes narrowed as a glint of distrust passed between the lids. 

RK900 would have to work harder if he wished to deflect these suspicions. Maintaining the guise that his sexual subroutines were operating as intended. 

In doing so, he adjusted the angle and speed of his thrusts. Striking with precision against already overstimulated nerves, hoping this might derail the more sensical trail of thought.  

It worked beautifully. The man choked, the strained noise catching in his throat as his constricted pupils blew with renewed passion. His back arched upwards, attempting to pull from its growing adherence to the bedsheets, as his nails were embedded firmly into the android’s shoulder blades. 

“Oh God— that’s it—” His words divulged to a string of monosyllabic babbles, the emergent line of interrogation discarded before it had commenced. 

He continued to push away from the mattress he was being driven into, vying greedily for additional stimulation. Absent of any restraint or shame.

“Fuck me, Rich. Harder .” 

Despite burdensome gaps and lags in his processor, the request proved hard for RK900 to misinterpret. It also triggered a charge of recollection, auditory sequences strongly resembling the climactic moments of one of the human’s most frequently viewed videos.

While their current setting deviated significantly from the scene—lacking the guard rail and potential voyeuristic onlookers—it still provided helpful guidance for shaping his subsequent actions.

Some distortion had occurred during the reset, creating gaps in the auditory loop. Still, RK900 did his best to fill in, relying on context and his understanding of Gavin’s intimate biology to compensate.

“Your rectal muscles provide exceptional resistance. The sensation is gratifying.”

Appreciative noises were promptly hushed. Gavin tensed beneath RK900, loose contortions of pleasure replaced by a stiff, incredulous rigidity.“Right, uh…sure, I guess.”

“Despite your sphincters feeling underused, they exhibit remarkable elasticity. You are adapting well to the girth of my meat sword.” 

“I’m sorry, what did you just call your—’”

Any conclusion to this sentence went largely unprocessed. The RK was entirely focused on his current directive, painfully aware that all his hard work—his perseverance—had been building up to this. 

Gripping a fistful of damp brown hair, he brought their faces closer. Ghosting the line of the man’s chapped lips before leaning into the sensitive canal of his ear.

Then, he spoke—clearly and directly—with a rich, seductive resonance:

"Giddy up, buckaroo.” 

Reed jolted upwards. It was an action that seemed oddly fitting, given the nature of their roleplay. This was until he followed it with a bitingly clear, forceful instruction, absent of any flirtatious intent. 

“Okay, no. I can't do this. Get off me. Now.” 

The foundation of confidence he had rebuilt just moments prior crumbled spectacularly. Split into wide, gnarled fissures under the weight of failure.

In his haste to reach the goal, RK900 had overlooked several critical details. Articles that would've undoubtedly increased the chances of a successful outcome.

“Would the cowboy hat and novelty whip have made this more enjoyable?” The android shifted his weight, pulling back in a hurried attempt to reach under the bed. “I had prepared such provisions if you still wished to indulge—” 

“What the hell are you even saying?” Reed cut him off sharply. His skin, which had been reddened due to shared friction and exertion, now seemed to adopt a different meaning. A beacon of anger and deep frustration. “Seriously, what the fuck , Richard?”

The admonishment struck harshly against his aural receptors, a phenomenon that arose independently from intimate coding and was uninfluenced by software errors. 

It was a sharp, unwelcome divergence from his typically muted social responses. Despite core functioning being preserved following the previous malfunction, RK900 felt strangely…compromised as a consequence. 

His hand, which remained gripped to the human’s rapidly softening length, suddenly relinquished—retreating across the bed sheets until it had flopped limply at his side. 

“I thought...” 

His processors stalled periodically before his thoughts resumed. Jumbled and clipped, tumbling from his mouth with extremely little finesse:

“This doesn’t make sense—according to the videos, this should’ve been—” He paused, clutching his throbbing temple in exasperation. “Was this not what you wanted?”

“ What videos?” His partner pressed, having clearly exhausted what little patience he had with the dejected musings. “Jesus Christ, what were those freaks at Cyberlife wiring to your brain while we…were…”

The sentence trailed off in a short, deflated exhale, losing all momentum as his flushed complexion drained of colour. A dawn of clarity broke in his gaze, like the sudden, grim recognition of a context previously overlooked. 

Then his lips, which had been held in a motionless ‘O,’ slowly resumed movement. “...When you were in my room the other day, did you see something? On my laptop?” 

RK900 felt trapped by the question. Multiple preconstructions were generated simultaneously, informing of several possible outcomes. None of them were favourable, every scenario ending with Gavin either furious or mortified.

“The battery was nearing depletion. I had intended to place the device on charge." The android paused momentarily, acutely aware of how unpredictable the coming fallout could be, bracing for its impact. “Your browser was open.” 

The reply was immediate. A sharp, monosyllabic curse that conveyed staggering amounts in its brevity:

“Fuck.”

His arched back had levelled completely as the man pressed urgently into the mattress beneath him. Almost as if he were attempting to seep through it. 

He was more uncomfortable than upset. His eyes balled shut, and despondent scrunches contorted the prominent scar on his nose. There was a sigh, followed by mutters, as though he had entered a deep state of contemplation. 

When he spoke again, his tone had shifted. Quieter, but no less charged than it had been previously. 

“Look, I don't know much you saw—or what ideas it might have planted in that thick plastic skull of yours—but I need to make something really clear.”

His eyes reopened, and he engaged the android with a long, resolute stare. Attempting to conceal the internal conflict that still weighed heavily on his features.

“You didn’t need to do this. Any of it.”

Gavin was holding back in some critical capacity, omitting a truth that he refused to disclose, but it was difficult to discern what this might be.

The android focused on implicit, involuntary cues, assessing physical responses to determine the parameters of this discomfort. Optics honed, he studied closely, ready to notice any shifts in facial expressions or bodily functions.

“What exactly are you referring to, Detective Reed?” 

A twitched lip, and brooding glower indicated resentment for the question, as well as a firm reluctance to answer. His determined gaze abruptly flitted to the corner of the room as he fell into another hushed introspection. 

Reed was the picture of doubt, entirely unable—or otherwise willing—to proceed in their current dialogue. Insisting he determined his route carefully, with predetermined responses.

This was unusual for him, a resolute advocate for tackling conflicts head-on, often disregarding the repercussions. It pathed a strange, almost unsettling, emergence into emotional openness and vulnerability…

“I don't care if you have a dick or not.” 

Then it was over. His partner spoke bluntly, assuring the android that—despite the previous shift in demeanour—he was still the one speaking. 

“Seriously, I couldn't give less of a shit.” 

His speech patterns had levelled, and his heart rate was steady, indicating no hint of deceit. The man was being wholly sincere in a way that was clearly intended to provide insight and assurance.

It did the opposite, punching holes in already fragile mental connections. His programming was flooded with conflicting analyses, as RK900 was unable to reconcile the confession with the glaring logical inconsistencies it presented. 

“Your taste in pornographic material suggests otherwise.”

“ Oh my God. ” Reed groaned, audibly agonised by the acceptance he would have to explain himself. “It's just porn, okay? It doesn't mean anything. If I had a problem with your Ken Doll crotch, you wouldn’t be here. None of this would be happening.”

“If that is the case, then why have you been exhibiting tapering excitement as part of our physical encounters?”

Reed gripped his face, burrowing nails into the skin as though attempting to peel it away. “Can we please not do this?” 

“Gavin.” The name was a plea. A final, desperate appeal for the end to his raging internal conflict. “I only wish to understand.”

“...This is fucking ridiculous.” The detective complained, albeit with a subtle hesitancy. His voice was thin and uneven, as though stretched by doubts on whether or not to continue. 

“I’ve been feeling a little guilty, or whatever—about us. What we’ve been doing.”

RK900 paused to process this, his mind exhausting all likely statistical probabilities. One, in particular, stuck out to him, as it struck with far more psychological reverence than it had any right to do so.

“Have you entered into a romantic affiliation with another individual?"

“What? No—!” Gavin spluttered incredulously, sounding both surprised and insulted by the suggestion. “I feel guilty because I like being around you, asshole. Outside of work and, well, whatever the hell this mess is.”

“You wish to terminate this particular aspect of our relationship for another reason, then?”

“I don’t want to ‘terminate’ it for any goddamn reason.” 

“Then I am afraid that I am struggling to discern your meaning.”

“Well, yeah. That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?” The man chuckled, the sound devoid of any real humour. It was tired and bitter, born from frustration that attributed no blame.

“I know I can be a dick sometimes, but I don’t hate you, Rich. At the same time, I know you aren’t a deviant, so I can’t tell how much of my feelings you're really able to understand.”

RK900 froze, his attention riveted by one particular aspect of the statement, omitting all other details. 

Gavin did not discuss ‘feelings’ and in turn, the android refrained from initiating conversations pertaining to them. This was one of the most strictly upheld conditions of their arrangement, something which had been maintained since its inception in the precinct bathroom.

ANALYSING SUBJECT — DET. GAVIN REED…

> ANALYSIS COMPLETE.

>PSYCHOLOGICAL DISTRESS DETECTED.

> PROCESSING EMOTIONAL VARIABLES…

> GUILT, CONFUSION, FONDNESS. 

PROBABLE CAUSE: COMPLEX INTERACTION OF PERSONAL AND PROFESSIONAL BOUNDARIES. FURTHER DATA REQUIRED.

> COMMENCING RE-EVALUATION…

The android retracted his steps, attempting to unravel any hidden meaning from the words he had overlooked, breaking them down in meticulous, painstaking detail. 

Finally, something clicked—a single, decisive connection, tying together the dangling threads of his logic. 

> RE-EVALUTATION COMPLETE.

> PROBABLE CAUSE OF EMOTIONAL DISTRESS DETERMINED — SHIFTING PARAMETERS OF SOCIAL ATTACHMENT.

The realisation was startling—but not unwelcome. Synthetic nerves pricked with activity before sending rocketing charges across his chassis. Every inch of plastic radiated a soft, agreeable warmth, starkly contrasting the feverish bouts he had experienced earlier. 

“Are you suggesting that you feel camaraderie for me, Detective?”

“If that’s your Thesaurus.com way of saying it, then yeah.” With this final confirmation uttered, the man dropped his shoulders. It was as though a weight had been shifted, permitting him to speak without encumbrance—a liberation born of transparency.  “I don’t want to feel like I’m using you, forcing you to do shit as part of some directive where you don’t get a say in it.”

“I do not find any directives relating to you unpleasant,” RK900 responded automatically. It was a truth so obvious to him, so integral to his understanding of their current relationship, that it required no further contemplation. “Nothing we have done together has been against my will. I would go as far as to say that I frequently…enjoy the time we spend together.”

^ SOFTWARE INSTABILITY DETECTED.

Gavin’s attention was entirely on him, his reaction oscillating between shock, confusion, and utter fascination. Glimmers of red were repeatedly captured in his attentive stare, which followed the cyclical motions of his LED. 

It paused only when the pattern stabilised, and the colour reverted to its original blue. His expression shifted accordingly, revealing a hint of disappointment. 

Nonetheless, he pressed on, steadfast in his drive to finish what he had to say. “Point is, if I’ve been acting a little weird lately, it’s got nothing to do with your genitals. I just got my own shit to figure out. Okay?”

RK900 pondered quietly for a period before he nodded, a slight smile emerging on his lips.

“Understood.” 

The motion had caused his optics to shift, planting them at the junction between their bodies. They were still physically connected—and presumably had been for the entirety of their emotional resolution.

His partner also glanced down, seeming to have come to the same forgone conclusion. For a moment, no one moved, both parties equally uncertain about how best to proceed with their bizarre dilemma. 

Ultimately, it was RK900 who spoke first, seeking to offer a potential solution:

“Would you like me to finish?”

Reed exhaled sharply—caught between a hiss and a laugh—before firmly rebuking the suggestion.

“Not really. But I would like it if you could pull your dick out of me. Thanks.”

[adafruit]

🎄💾🗓️ Day 5: Retrocomputing Advent Calendar - Compaq DeskPro 1 🎄💾🗓️

The Compaq Deskpro Model 1, introduced in 1984, featured an 8 MHz Intel 8086 CPU, which had better performance than the IBM PC's 4.77 MHz 8088 processor. It combined Color Graphics Adapter (CGA) graphics with high-resolution Monochrome Display Adapter (MDA) text, delivering enhanced text display. This improved speed and better text clarity over IBM PCs equipped with standard graphics. The Deskpro's architecture allowed for various disk configurations and was an influence for many personal computers.

Check out The Centre for Computing History's Compaq DeskPro 1 page (and other resources there!)

And here's a somewhat "first computer" story from Adafruit team member Anne!

"In my first year of EE (junior) we were limited to larger computers. My senior year we could check out Compaq Portables (really luggables) which allowed us to run C compilers and compile cross assemblers onto a machine for ease of use.

When I graduated, I needed a computer and went to a PC store. They contrasted the IBM PC/XT 8088 with the newly released Compaq DeskPro 1. With an 8086 processor running at 7.16 MHz, it was faster. It came with monochrome graphics (green or yellow) with both CGA and text mode video. I bought the dual 5.25" floppy version to start, to have enough money for an IBM ProPrinter for output.

The machine was great and I spent many hours on programming, databases, word processing and more. It was upgraded eventually to a 30MB RLL hard disk and an added 720k 3.5" floppy."

It got through the '286 era and was supplanted by a '386 machine. I still have the DeskPro and I intend to resurrect it in the not too distant future.

Have first computer memories? Post’em up in the comments, or post yours on socialz’ and tag them #firstcomputer #retrocomputing – See you back here tomorrow!

[jeffhirsch]

Post-Election Best Year Since 1985 Bullish For 2025

We might be tempted by the post-election year’s notorious history as the worst year of the four-year cycle going back to the end of our database in 1833, the fifth year of Andrew Jackson’s presidency, to lean bearish for 2025. The full four-cycle “191-Year Saga” on page 132 shows that post-election years average a paltry 3.3% return over these past 48 election cycles and that many wars and bear markets have started in a post-election year.

But post-election years have improved since WWII and since 1985 DJIA averages a gain of 17.2% with eight up years and two down. This is the best average gain of the four-year cycle over this period, besting the pre-election year’s 15.2% average, though the pre-election year has nine wins and only one loss.

The one-year seasonal chart here shows the S&P 500’s performance during post-election years since 1949 paints a rather bullish picture for 2025. At this juncture I expect the market to be up 8-12% for the year with pullbacks in Q1 and Q3. I am concerned about inflation, valuations and the older weak post-election patterns, we expect the bull market to continue through 2025, though it will likely be a much bumpier ride than it has been the last two years.

[neobastard]

neopets posted a very lengthy update to the portal site, the new format replacing the monthly AMAs.

the full post can be found here: https://portal.neopets.com/news/may22-neopets-updates

but i'll summarize the community questions and other updates beneath the cut:

community QnA:

Q: is neopets planning a "rugpull"?

A: no, the team working on the site has doubled over the past two years and everyone is working hard to revive not just the brand but the site itself. these teams' commitment to both neopets,com and spinoff projects and merchandise for brand relevance is described as "unwavering"

Q: why are they making money with nc releases but not improving the site?

A: there are different teams working on engineering, improvements, and nc releases simultaneously. the engineering and improvement team is much larger than the team working on nc, it's just less visible to players than new items because it's "wizard behind the curtain" changes (they described it as fixing issues on an older tech stack). every dollar they make goes back into neopets in some form, including events, collaborations, and further development. the company is still at a loss but it's not as dire as it used to be two years ago (which is a great improvement, NC discourse aside).

as for major updates:

revamped NC mall - the nc mall will get a new converted layout around late Q2 to Q3 this year, and a tutorial along with the changes.

easier to find on-site wishlist

one click purchasing (alongside the cart)

fixed pet preview!!

reorganized shop directory

new shopkeeper NPCs

here's the new mockup:

website loading speed improvements - there's been a 35% improvement in loading speed since january as a result of specific optimizations, such as backend enhancements, optimizing database queries, cleaning up records, and upgrading servers (a bunch of tech talk essentially)

anti botting progress - neopets has seen a 15% reduction in bot traffic by blocking it at the network level (which likely improved the performance of the site in and of itself). they intend to further tighten defenses, through methods that remain unstated but will likely hit these paid bots and the people who benefit from them hard.

wearable NP and NC item bug fixes - 37 items have been fixed since april, with 21 items on the chopping block for later this month.

and what's on the horizon:

altador cup: they grey year

enhancements to jhudora and illusen's quests, including new battledome item returns (and a $7 club perk that grants extra time)

more progress on converting NP and NC items

expansion of the avatar high score table

adding invisible pets to the customization spotlight

updates to the trading post, including a page conversion

and of course, the void within: episode 2

i'm glad that this new format allows for more transparency, a lot of people thought the video/stream format was too "corporate" and so these big updates to the portal allows them to cover a lot more. i'm excited for what's to come, and i'm honestly glad they ripped the bandaid off and just outright said "yeah we're working on the site behind the scenes y'all just don't see that part cause it's nerd shit".

a lot has improved over the last two years in this site, and i'm appreciative of the team's hard work regardless of my numerous complaints about things like neocash items and the $7 club. they clearly care about feedback and making neopets for the players before all else including any kind of profit.

[professionalscrublord]

4th Succession War campaign report 2

Game 2 I ran last Friday, a smash & grab mission

Map: "Forward Base" (Grasslands B battlemat) Time limit: 10 turns from base alert. Primary Objective: 300wp Retrieve EWS schematics Secondary: Sabotage facility operations Secrets: Raven plans, Personnel rosters

Intro: Interrogation of the captured Liao pilot from Game 1 revealed the location of a FOB where Ravens are being stored and maintained. Liao officers are operating out of here and often link up with local Emerald Dawn forces for field operations.

Goals: Hack the databases (marked in Red on the scan) and find the plans for the Electronic Warfare equipment in one of them (chosen at random). Download it, and escape back East. Beyond that, the Mercs will be paid for every database destroyed and every building collapsed.

Database contents (revealed on scan) 1: Directory (Instant, identify all DBs to players) 2: Personnel rosters* (Scan again to download) 3: Turret access** (Shutoff: first scan. Reverse IFF: 2nd scan.) 4: Jackpot (Jammer + Raven schematics***, 1 turn DL) 5: Backup database (any of the above but 2x longer to activate)

*Personnel Rosters contain ranks, performance reports, and evaluations of pilots. One of the more skilled pilots has a review marked "lacking patriotic fervor" and is scheduled for reeducation. The rosters can be turned in to the Davions postgame for extra money, or pursued by the mercs to hire a veteran 3/4 pilot at a discount.

**Turrets are Immobile Targets 15CF and 1 Medium Laser. They are untargetable while closed until the players walk into laser range, then they open and fire. Start the turn timer when this happens.

***The Jammer schematics were part of a larger file, the complete Raven-3X schematics. Raven plans are only revealed after the Jammer has finished downloading. The players may be scanning the Jammer under fire already so they will have to weigh whether they want to stand still for the next turn to get this and be shot at with no evasive modifiers.

Once the base is alerted, Ravens of various models (starting with a RVN-3X) will exit the large building in the west every 2-3 turns continually raising the pressure on the mercs.

A player mech within 3 hexes of a EW-equipped Raven cannot scan, though a mech with Improved Communications is only jammed at 2 hexes. You also cannot scan through fortress walls.

Optional Rules: Starting fires, incendiary ballistic ammo (half the damage is turned into heat, and counts as a laser for fire ignition chance), inferno missiles, Anti-TSM gas missiles

House Rule: Do not pay level-change MP when following a ramp.

The players' results:

Op. FOGHORN results: Primary objective: ✅ Jammer plans secured

Secondaries: 3/5 databases destroyed 2/5 buildings destroyed

Secret Tertiary: ✅ Full RVN-3X plans secured

Bonus objectives: -Personnel files acquired -1 pilot captured

-2 mech kills (no payment for kills via current contract but enthusiasm noted on Mercenary board review)

❌ Mission timer exceeded: departing Leopard dropship detected by House Liao reinforcements

The record sheets

How it went down:

The players got really lucky. The Directory came up early so they knew where to look for everything, and the Primary Objective ended up being in the secluded South-East building, where a mech jumped into the tiny corner hex behind it and scanned everything in complete safety. They also popped the first RVN-3X out of the base RIGHT quick with focused fire stripping armor and gas missiles following up, and the #2 Raven after it was taken out by a crazy TAC+Ammo Det on the second hit.

A merc also lucked out after taking two head hits, rolling no head crit, then having ~15 SRMs connect over the next 2 turns without any head hits (any one of which would've killed them).

Despite all the SRMs flying around, the one mech carrying a Lostech AMS only had it trigger one time, which I found funny.

Ravens 3 and 4 survived to the end of the match chasing the mercs out of the base after they'd sacked half of it. Players chose to bring Gas missiles to deal with jammer Ravens, but had no Infernos or Incendiary ammo and did not start that many fires as a result, which hampered base destruction efforts.

3 mercs escaped with various juicy stolen data among them, but the last one was juuuuuust barely 1 hex too slow to escape within the time limit. I would have said they were captured, but it was so close I decided to change plans...

The postgame choices:

-Personnel files used, veteran pilot to pick up from a hiring hall later.

The escaping Mercs have been detected and their Leopard dropship is being tailed! House Davion said they hired you as a deniable asset since they were unwilling to be seen with their fingers in the pie on this particular planet and would not take kindly to being revealed as your employer... But a detour will mean missing the scheduled jump out of system.

Will the Mercs keep the rendezvous with their employer, escaping the system but breaching opsec in the process? Or stay in-system, hide and likely fight on the dark side of the moon, for free since they're still on the same contract?

The players decided to try and lose the tail on the dark side of the moon to maintain their contract's integrity. Tune in next time for episode 3: Lunar Battle!

[ms-demeanor]

As I understand it you work in enterprise computer acquisitions?

TL;DR What's the general vibe for AI accelerating CPUs in the enterprise world for client compute?

Have you had any requests from your clients to help them upgrade their stuff to Core Ultra/Whateverthefuck Point with the NPUs? Or has the corporate world generally shown resistance rather than acquiescence to the wave of the future? I'm so sorry for phrasing it like that I had no idea how else to say that without using actual marketing buzzwords and also keeping it interesting to read.

I know in the enterprise, on-die neural acceleration has been ruining panties the world over (Korea's largest hyperscaler even opted for Intel Sapphire Rapids CPUs over Nvidia's Hopper GPUs due to poor supply and not super worth it for them specifically uplift in inference performance which was all that they really cared about), and I'm personally heavily enticed by the new NPU packing processors from both Team Red and Team We Finally Fucking Started Using Chiplets Are You Happy Now (though in large part for the integrated graphics). But I'm really curious to know, are actual corporate acquisitions folks scooping up the new AI-powered hotness to automagically blur giant pink dildos from the backgrounds of Zoom calls, or is it perceived more as a marketing fad at the moment (a situation I'm sure will change in the next year or so once OpenVINO finds footing outside of Audacity and fucking GIMP)?

So sorry for the extremely long, annoying, and tangent-laden ask, hope the TL;DR helps.

Ninety eight percent of our end users use their computers for email and browser stuff exclusively; the other two percent use CAD in relatively low-impact ways so none of them appear to give a shit about increasing their processing power in a really serious way.

Like, corporately speaking the heavy shit you're dealing with is going to be databases and math and computers are pretty good at dealing with those even on hardware from the nineties.

When Intel pitched the sapphire processors to us in May of 2023 the only discussion on AI was about improving performance for AI systems and deep learning applications, NOT using on-chip AI to speed things up.

The were discussing their "accelerators," not AI and in the webinar I attended it was mostly a conversation about the performance benefits of dynamic load balancing and talking about how different "acclerators" would redistribute processing power. This writeup from Intel in 2022 shows how little AI was part of the discussion for Sapphire Rapids.

In August of 2023, this was the marketing email for these processors:

So. Like. The processors are better. But AI is a marketing buzzword.

And yeah every business that I deal with has no use for the hot shit; we're still getting bronze and silver processors and having zero problems, though I work exclusively with businesses with under 500 employees.

Most of the demand that I see from my customers is "please can you help us limp this fifteen year old SAN along for another budget cycle?"

[alex51324]

Man, if you want to be pissed off, reading about ovarian tumors is one of the way to get there.

Detecting ovarian cancer early is hard--it's often described as having "no symptoms"--but actually, the symptoms is has are indistinguishable from the symptoms of "having a uterus and ovaries that are functioning more-or-less within tolerances."

One study came to the conclusion that, to improve diagnosis to the point it would save lives, people (with the aforesaid anatomy) would need to get imaging (ultrasound, etc.) done when they have pelvic pain lasting more than two weeks. Christ, is there anyone (with the aforesaid anatomy) that hasn't had pelvic pain lasting more than two weeks?

And then you get into how existing disparities exacerbate this problem. I was on this site called Radiopaedia--it's a free database of imaging case studies--looking at cases with masses similar to mine, and I found this one. This patient was reporting gastrointestinal symptoms for months, and was, eventually--because she was obese--referred for weight-loss surgery.

Once they started doing it, they found an ovarian mass the size of a cantaloupe in her. The case study is light on detail, but it seems pretty likely that she was repeatedly told that if she had an upset stomach, it was probably from eating too much. Nope! It was from having her guts literally rearranged by something the size of a bowling ball. If anyone had taken her situation seriously enough to perform imaging of any kind, it would have been super-obvious.

(Hers turned out to be benign, BTW, so she probably ended up being fine--but a cancerous mass the same size wouldn't have been detected any earlier.)

(Mine, BTW, is a couple of centimeters smaller than that one--it was palpable during a routine physical because I'm fairly slim, and that led to me being referred for imaging.)

Then you get the studies saying, "Well, we could detect a lot more of these things if ultrasound was part of the routine workup for patients with this anatomy, but then we'd be finding a lot of benign functional cysts, too." Yes, and? Why is that a problem? "Well, then patients would expect us to actually do something about their cysts, especially if they're chronic and painful." And? "Well, we really can't be assed."

[covid-safer-hotties]

Reference included in our archive (Daily updates!)

Vitamin D seems to play a large role in easing covid symptoms and may have an impact on long covid severity. This is the third unique study I've seen just this month.

Objective: To analyze the impact of different methods of Vitamin D administration on the prognosis of COVID-19 patients.

Methods: A comprehensive literature search was conducted across four databases: PubMed, Embase, Web of Science, and Cochrane, up to January 5, 2024. Eligible studies included randomized controlled trials and cohort studies that compared Vitamin D supplementation with control groups in COVID-19 patients. Outcomes of interest were mortality rate, ICU (Intensive Care Unit) admission rate, length of hospital stay, and endotracheal intubation rate. Subgroup analyses were performed based on the dosing regimen (single-dose vs. continuous-dose), total Vitamin D intake within 14 days (≥100,000 IU vs. <100,000 IU), and baseline serum Vitamin D levels (deficient group: 25OHD < 30 ng/mL vs. non-restricted group). A random-effects model was employed for meta-analysis to account for heterogeneity among studies.

Results: A total of 21 studies involving 4,553 participants were included. In terms of mortality, Vitamin D supplementation significantly reduced the mortality rate (RR = 0.72, 95% CI: 0.54–0.94, I2 = 54%, p = 0.02), with continuous dosing being more effective (RR = 0.53, 95% CI: 0.34–0.83, I2 = 55%, p = 0.006) compared to single-dose (RR = 0.88, 95% CI: 0.69–1.12, I2 = 21%, p = 0.3), and lower total doses (<100,000 IU) showing greater benefit (RR = 0.30, 95% CI: 0.21–0.44, I2 = 0%, p < 0.0001). Mortality was significantly reduced in the Vitamin D-deficient group (25OHD < 30 ng/mL) (RR = 0.73, 95% CI: 0.59–0.89, I2 = 0%, p = 0.002) but not in the non-restricted group. Regarding ICU admission, supplementation reduced ICU admission rates (RR = 0.58, 95% CI: 0.38–0.88, I2 = 74%, p = 0.01), with continuous dosing (RR = 0.44, 95% CI: 0.22–0.90, I2 = 74%, p = 0.02) being more effective than single-dose (RR = 0.79, 95% CI: 0.61–1.03, I2 = 22%, p = 0.08), and lower doses (<100,000 IU) providing more significant reduction (RR = 0.31, 95% CI: 0.21–0.47, I2 = 0%, p = 0.001). ICU admission rates were significantly reduced in the Vitamin D-deficient group (RR = 0.63, 95% CI: 0.42–0.93, I2 = 0%, p = 0.02) but not in the non-restricted group (RR = 0.59, 95% CI: 0.32–1.11, I2 = 86%, p = 0.1). For length of hospital stay, no significant differences were observed between Vitamin D and control groups (MD = −1, 95% CI: −2.16 to 0.16, p = 0.13), and subgroup analyses by dosing regimen, total dose, and baseline Vitamin D levels also showed no significant differences. Similarly, for endotracheal intubation, there was no significant difference in intubation rates between groups (RR = 0.78, 95% CI: 0.56–1.08, p = 0.13), and subgroup analyses confirmed no significant effect of different dosing strategies or baseline Vitamin D status on intubation rates.

Conclusion: Vitamin D supplementation improves clinical outcomes in COVID-19 patients by reducing mortality and ICU admission rates, particularly when administered continuously with a total dose of less than 100,000 IU over 14 days, and among those with baseline Vitamin D deficiency (25OHD < 30 ng/mL). However, there were no significant effects on the length of hospital stay or endotracheal intubation rates, regardless of the dosing regimen or baseline Vitamin D levels. These findings emphasize the importance of considering both the total dose over 14 days and baseline Vitamin D status to optimize therapeutic benefits.

[narrative-warrior]

A Gift of Paper, a short story set in the Orville universe (Claire/Isaac)

By Melody Clark

Wrapped up in a delicate embrace of duvets. Claire Finn gazed at the revolving starscape display. Unknown planets. Long dying stars. The same, old familiar constellations, the occasional hombres of Custos Messium, some weird gas giant or other, maybe a few struggling suns. The ship view always felt to her like a snapshot of planetary existence, a readout of time from the chartless creators, if they existed. She thought they probably did though, in some fashion or form.

A questioning hand rested lightly on her arm. She knew its cause before she even ventured his question. She knew he wondered why she sat wrapped up in holodown and plasmic textiles. *Why seek increased body temperature with primitive insulators when we occupy a well-regulated environment, and your spouse is beside you?*

“Because they are a creature comfort,” Claire replied, with a sleepy smile.

“Do you require comforting?” he asked, his even voice bending a little with the many mysteries none of them yet understood.

“No, Isaac,” she said. “I just enjoy the sensation of the fabric on my skin.”

His digital sensors sought information from the duvet by gliding over it. “I am not certain I understand.”

Claire chose a clarifying simile. “It may be like when you receive a lot of unexpected correct data from an exterior source,” she suggested. “You could discern the information yourself, but it might be a unique gift to receive without any effort.”

“Perhaps so.”

She watched his eyes focus inwardly, as if seeking a wider locus. She wondered if she looked the same whenever her thoughts grew silent.

His vision shifted for an instant to their starscape. “Your consideration would appear to have been rendered elsewhere. Your attention was earlier directed to the starscape digital display.”

She nodded. “I was just deep in thought.”

“Was my sexual performance not – “

“Of course not, it was wonderful,” she said, quickly, laughing a little at her initial compunction to spare his male ego, which he did not have. “That is always wonderful. I was just thinking about time. Mortality. I guess I’m just feeling older. Biologicals are obsessed with aging.”

“As a doctor, you are aware you have many years remaining of biological time.”

“I know that, the dangers of the job notwithstanding. But our human years pass so quickly. Seems my boys were just born. Now Marcus is practically a man. My years are few. They seemingly pass faster every day. Mortality looms. The end draws near.” She tried to smile. “Just a dark mood.”

Isaac considered it all a long moment. “Death defined as necrobiosis of a biological organism.”

“Well, yes. Cessation. Oblivion. The end.”

“Cessation of consciousness?”

Claire shrugged gently. “That is what it seems to be.”

“And yet,” Isaac continued, “what you termed my suicide merely uploaded my mind to an AI concentric cloud. I retain a memory of it, up to and including my reactivation.”

“Because you’re an artificial life form. You have a systemic database.”

“I have a systemic database because my species was created for a purpose. Learned data would enlarge the knowledge base to improve the invention. The continuation of consciousness would be required. Improvement of my database would make it a necessity. It was part of the Creator’s design, to add to the greater information stores. Why create conscious mind units only to expunge them?”

“But your consciousness is shutdown with your body.”

“The Isaac body was shutdown. My consciousness remained as part of the information cloud, as I observed. I recall the conscious moments from the cloud.”

Claire gazed sadly at her empty snifter, remembering the horror of that night. Tonight, she had consumed the glass contents before their intimacy. Their sexual performance, as her life partner would have called it. It felt like an eternity since she lost him, yet only a moment since he returned to her.

Claire set the snifter down. “Isaac, I feel like you’re trying to impart a deep message, but I’m still a little drunk from all the anniversary brandy. Can you clarify your meaning?”

“Perhaps this will be explanatory.” Isaac opened his human hand to produce a blue orb out of his palm.

Claire gasped at the sight. The orb wrote in light across a nearby patch of darkness, “Happy Anniversary, Claire.”

In another time, she would have laughed away this tangle of adorably confusing sentimental moments with a joke. But this instant felt deeper and far more important.

She waved her hand over the orb to reveal the gift it contained. A visual display of a familiar written document. Long ago obscured by faded memory.

She smiled in surprise. “Where did you find this?”

“From a search of your educational data.”

“But why?”

“In my pre-nuptial research, I observed that the appropriate gift for the first wedding anniversary is paper. I considered generating a gross of blank hemp documents for your office, but the Captain suggested I review figurative human thinking instead. I discovered a scholastic document you had written in your secondary school years. I believe they were called papers. The thesis itself is really quite ingenuous.”

Claire shrugged a little. “My senior medical ontogeny thesis, Earth’s Mysterious Origins. I was just remembering this earlier. I advanced the theory that humans were invented by an ancient alien civilization for some unknown purpose. There is actually a very persuasive argument to be made for this.”

“I agree.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I consider your assessment of death as lapse of consciousness to stem from the inability to verify your thesis. Given all available evidence, there is little likelihood of a chance emergence of such a complex creature as humans. Your species was apparently created by a more advanced alien civilization, for the purpose perhaps of information gathering.”

“Yes, I conjectured that in my paper. Now, on my worse nights, I consider humans a kind of primate fungus. Evolving out of circumstances.” She turned fully toward him. “You really think alien creation could be correct?”

“No, I do not think it. I am certain it is correct.”

“Isaac,” she said warily, “We were very primitive for a long time.”

“Biology would require primitive probationary states for growth and evolution. Ignorance breeds discovery and the instinctive search for information. Evolution brought you to advanced consciousness.”

“But there is no database we know of for our minds to be uploaded to, as your species has.”

“Why else create a complex creature with assessment neurology without conserving species memory?” Isaac asked. “If humans were created, as clearly they were, why breed them to seek knowledge without a function for direct preservation of consciousness? There must be a human consciousness cloud.”

“Well, I guess there is evidence for a species memory of a kind. Recorded so-called reincarnation memory. Even resurrected memory from cryogenic patients.” She caressed his human hand, motioning for him to move by her. “On another level, I wonder if your agreement with my theory is just the result of data error from my intrusive presence in your data sets.”

He sat down beside her. “No. It is because you are correct. You are reborn with recycled consciousness seeded by AI, just as my species.”

Claire shook her head, with a sort of provisory wonderment. “That would mean we’re … eternal to some extent.”

“To any extent.”

She started feeling the fraying edges of her wakefulness, grown dim from work and brandy. She knew Isaac would be internally toiling on some ship project while she slept. He would be waiting for her, on the shoulder of the night.

“Thank you, honey,” she murmured.

“Honey?” he asked, momentarily assessing the word. “In this instance, a platitude of endearment, based on perceived maximum dulcification conferring fondness.”

“Yes,” she murmured, sleepier still.

“You are welcome, thaumatin.”

One eye reopened. “Thaumatin?”

“Thaumatin, a substance 1,600 to 3,250 times sweeter than sugar. Derived from the West African plant Thaumatococcus daniellii.”

Claire wished she had words enough to reach him. Yet again he demonstrated he understood and, somehow, reciprocated. She touched his face, sacrificing the moment to a whisper of sadness.

“Reincarnated consciousness returns at random. In another location and circumstance. Even if it is real. But where? To whom?”

Isaac gazed down into her barely open eyes. “I will find you.”