#forcing with random variables

[pv1isalsoimportant]

Boolean valued models are so funny because why do you act like "half-witness" is a completely normal thing to say.

[aventurineswife]

helos fre :3 random but any thoughts on self aware hsr 🙏🙏 ngl it's absolute peak to me cuz the fics I've read about it is so good I wanna digest it into my blood cells 😍🥰🥰/hj /lh

AHHHH I HAVE FEW BUT ITS PROBABLY NOT GOOD 😭🙏 (I might need to write a series about it in the future lmaoo)

The Express itself, and the crew aboard it, start referencing an "observer" that influences their journey. They might leave cryptic remarks like, "We wouldn’t have made it here without a guiding force…" or, "Are you out there, watching us?"

Himeko and Welt have deep discussions about the metaphysical implications of being part of a "game." Welt's past in other dimensions makes him particularly reflective.

Occasionally, your Trailblazer might break the fourth wall and stare directly "out" of the screen. They’d ask questions like, "Why are you helping us? What’s in it for you?" Or even, "Do you think you’re doing the right thing?"

Their dialogue changes subtly depending on your in-game decisions, showing that they’re paying attention.

Kafka is one of the few who seems fully aware that you’re pulling the strings. She might tease, "How long will you keep playing this game? Or is it playing you?" It’s unclear if she means it literally or as a metaphor.

Pela starts digging into the concept of "higher dimensions" where powerful entities (like the players) influence their world. You might find hidden journal entries speculating about the possibility of unseen forces guiding their lives.

Characters start commenting on how often you farm the same materials or run the same domains (?). For instance, Dan Heng might say, "You’ve had me fight this exact enemy over fifty times… What are you preparing for?"

When summoning characters, some of them might react to being "chosen." For example: Silver Wolf might say, "Took you long enough. Were you saving for someone else?" While Seele could mutter, "You really wanted me, didn’t you?"

As beings tied to the metaphysical order of the universe, the Aeons might perceive your existence. Xianzhou scholars hypothesize that you are an entity akin to an Aeon of "Control" or "Fate."

The Stellaron within the Trailblazer seems to have an awareness of you, treating you like an ally—or a potential threat. It might whisper cryptic messages about your choices or consequences.

Herta becomes suspicious of the odd behaviors in the universe and starts referring to you as a "prime variable." She might even try to communicate directly through simulated events, asking for your cooperation.

Some characters, like March 7th or Natasha, might express gratitude for your care and attention. "You always bring me along… Do you think I’m special?" they might ask, breaking the fourth wall.

Certain antagonists, like Cocolia or Jade, might break from their usual dialogue to challenge your decisions. "You think you’re the hero? You’re just another player, aren’t you?"

A secret cutscene or dialogue could play if you act in unexpected ways, revealing that the characters have fully realized their reality. It could be bittersweet, with them either embracing or lamenting their lack of agency.

Aventurine might acknowledge your influence subtly. After completing a mission for the IPC, he sends a message: "Noticed your knack for efficiency. You deserve a little bonus for all the extra effort you 'inspire.' Don’t let it go to your head." He attaches an unusually large amount of credits, as though recognizing you directly for optimizing his profits.

Argenti might kneel before the screen during a heartfelt moment (or after a battle): "O noble guide, it is your divine hand that shapes my path! I dedicate my blade not just to the people, but to you. May your will continue to shine upon us!" He also gifts you rare items or sends messages of gratitude, as though you're a divine figure he serves.

AHHH I wanna write fics for certain characters or something (this could also lead to yandere themes depending if the person/anon reqs for it).

[imagionationstation]

Whats your opinion of the Rise community’s impression of 2012 splinter? For me I think he’s a very nice guy just unprepared like bro just got shoved four children

Uh this was random

I just want to make a note of something:

I’ve spent so long trying to come up with a response to this because I can think of some people who are pretty deep in the RISE fandom who are like “2012Splints ain’t that bad tho”. So addressing the entire fandom is actually more difficult than it sounds concerning Splinter.

So instead of addressing the entire community, which would put many people in boxes that they don’t fit in, I’m going to use this Ask to make a statement about the whole Rise VS 2012 debate.

So my firm opinion that I will give is this:

You cannot forgive Rise Splinter without forgiving 2012 Splinter.

And for the 2012 Fandom:

You cannot understand 2012 Splinter without understanding Rise.

You cannot say that you honestly grasp the extent of one trauma/depression without acknowledging the existence of the other. Both Splinters have similar building blocks of trauma (forcefully separated from someone who they love dearly, forced to fight for their lives for who knows how many weeks/months, forced to live/adapt to a body that’s not their own, and forced care for helpless mutant children on top of it all) but their ways of dealing with it are different ONLY because of their different upbringings.

Their traumas are the same but their history is different. (No, you can’t use the ‘well one is a struggling immigrant and the other isn’t’, because Yoshi literally grew up in Japan. He only moved to New York because that’s what Shen wanted. So he has more connection to his origins than Lou has. But that really is beside the point.)

Anyone can have the argument that they feel that one Splinter is the ‘lesser evil’ in this scenario. There are some pretty good debates for both sides, but you cannot claim to have any sort of proof that one Splinter loves his sons more than the other.

You can’t. It’s ignorant and untrue. And I stand by that.

After all, they both kept and raised four mutant children.

And I know that’s a pretty obvious piece of lore, but I don’t think most people truly realize just how monumental that is.

It’s hard enough to raise one child, and harder still two, but four mutant infants? All on your own while trying to manage a new body with no outside help of any kind- and dealing with the fact that their entire infant hood would be a guessing game of do I have any idea if this would hurt/kill the turtle side of them? Not to mention the patience it would take raising children with super strength and amazing abilities that most parents don’t have to deal with?

Four children- all with different mental capacities, all with the different dreams and desires, all the different wants and hates, all the different fears and struggles and tantrums, and you have to learn how to understand and raise all of those personalities (because toddlers absolutely have MASSIVE personalities) all at once.

All of the variables that came into raising them, all those reasons that would make life beyond difficult, all the temptation not to, and these men pilled with trauma and grief still looked at the tiny freaks of nature and went: Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be their dad.

Just like there are many different love languages, there are also many different ways of showing your love. RISE Splinter did it in the big ways while often neglecting the small, and 2012 Splinter did it in the small ways well often neglecting the big.

One man does not have worse trauma than the other.

One man does not have more love for his children.

You will never be able to convince me that you truly understand what 2012 has gone through but still hate him, if you cannot acknowledge that there might be a reason for you to hate Rise too.

If you cannot comprehend understanding/forgiving 2012 then I really don’t think you truly understand/forgive Rise either.

So, yeah. That’s my hot take, ig.

[hyewka]

STRICTLY PLATONIC [teaser] | choi beomgyu

SUMMARY. fucking your best friend was supposed to be a one time thing in the hopes of relinquishing feelings for your ex, but a one time turned into a weekly and cuddles after sex are way too intimate for your liking. but beomgyu insists that he’d never catch feelings for you, that he’s experienced in these types of arrangements. he still saw you as his best friend! it was totally only platonic for you too… right?

GENRE. smut, fluff, angst, college au, a hyewka fic with plot and structure.. sort of

TEASER WARNINGS. nothing explicit just some marking lol

AUTHOR NOTE. the dream fwb fic ive been wanting to write for ages so thank you to the ask i recently replied to as it was the main motivator for this 😭 this is going to be a long one so we're going the traditional route with a teaser, im opening a tag list so if you wish to be added send an ask or comment!

You’ve never seen Choi Beomgyu in a different light. That’s what you liked about him, that everything was so… constant. Your life could crash and burn but hey, Beomgyu was still Beomgyu— your friendship was a variable in your life that stayed undeniably the exact same.

You know, until you allowed him to fuck your brains out.

Even the sole fact that you have given the thought of Beomgyu being a ‘sex symbol’ has you quivering out of sheer horror— Beomgyu… has never been a sex symbol. Sure, he fucked around, and has a reputation and yeah sure, he was crazy hot when he isn’t showing signs of extreme sleep deprivation …but you’ve just never seen him in that light.

And to have let it simmer in your thoughts for longer than a second, makes you just a tinge hesitant in letting the silly goof pull you into the dancing crowd. You whine, “I’m tired Beomgyu! My heels are killing me.”

He either doesn’t hear over the blasting music or isn’t going to give it up because he pulls you in anyway, crashing your head right into his chest and you let out an instinctual ouch at the hard surface. Your eyes are wide looking up at him, sputtering out an unbelievable sentence. “Have you—have you been working out?”

His grin widens, holding up your arm to guide at feeling out his biceps. “Every now and then.” He doesn’t mind the minute it takes you to actually feel every muscle through his shirt, in fact he’s relishing in your sudden pique of interest in his body.

Whether he’s flexing them or not doesn’t show in his face—he looks completely relaxed and you finally admit—Beomgyu is getting toned.

“Why? You hate working out.” You could barely muffle those words with the way he had you engulfed in his arms, leaning his head in your neck, swaying side to side as if the song blasting was off of Taylor Swift’s Lover and not a Lil Wayne remix.

And he hasn’t even gotten a drop of alcohol yet.

But it’s true, Beomgyu hated the gym. Like, even more than you did. Which is a testament in and of itself.

He pulls away from the crook of your neck, a pout on his lips. “Didn’t you say your type was muscular men? At Halloween weekend?”

Halloween weekend was a year ago, the first frat party you managed to get into with the help of Beomgyu’s friend, Jake. You barely remember anything from it. Other than the occasional retells of the nights by Yunjin’s words, which are always a different version of the same story... so a not very credible source. “I mean, I guess they are. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know, just saying. Jaehyun was suuper muscly.” Okay, the random mention of your ex…maybe he had some drop of alcohol.

“Are you drunk?”

“You took too long to come back, lost at beer pong.”

“How many shots?” you interrogate.

“Two.” At your suspecting glare, he continues on, “Four…five…like, at most seven.”

Your eyes bulge out, huffing out a scoff. You guys always got wasted together! Noticing the furrow of your brows he holds you tighter whining, “I know I know, sorry, I tried telling Heeseung but he’s a savage cruel man, I was practically force fed that cup.”

You don’t doubt that he attempted to persuade Heeseung but you do doubt the force feeding, it only takes a couple nudges before getting Beomgyu to drink. “I’m just slightly tipsy, not drunk yet anyway. I pledged to never ever get trashed without you. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

You slap away the hand he puts up over his chest, incredulously, losing your control over the fits of giggles when he takes your flying hand in his, taking advantage by intertwining your fingers together. “What are you doing?” your cheeks probably hurt from all the smiling, you don’t know, you think your nerves are numb.

“Can’t a guy hold his twin flame, platonic best friend’s hand?”

Skinship was not an unfamiliar with Beomgyu—he was always a naturally clingy guy. You figured when the first ever official lunch hangout you’ve had with the boy and a few of your other friends, had included a lot of random footsie.

You didn’t even know him that well in high school. Who plays footsie with an acquaintance? Choi Beomgyu, that’s who. Yet even after some reluctance that day, you end up letting him have his childish, sort of endearing fun.

Though this was all but childish, the innocently mischievous twinkle of a scrawny teenage boy had been long gone, instead replaced by the most attractive man’s hungry, lust filled gaze. “Who told you to look so sexy today?”

The theme was Angel & Devil—to match with Beomgyu, you insisted on giving him the angel outfit, and you the costume of a devil. Matching was always the fun part of these parties. “Only today?” you drawl, making an exaggerated sultry trail with your finger on his chest.

“God, shut up, you know you’re always hot,” You don’t expect the seriousness of his tone, especially when you were just teasing, but he snakes his hand around your waist, pushing you further into his body, your tits suffocatingly pressed against his chest.

You do not expect the slight squeeze to your ass, your eyes shooting particularly wide, blood rushing up to trickle your cheeks. “But I like it when you’re a little devil, makes you so sexy and alluring.”

His face buried into your neck again, this time not missing the chance of taking a deep inhale. Beomgyu could stay like this forever, filling his lungs with you, and only you. “Still can’t believe I had my hands off you for so long little devil.” Your eyes flutter shut, taking quick breaths as he moves his soft lips to your neck, wet kisses with a slip of teeth nibbling just slightly to tease, planning on coloring you with all the pretty purple hues.

And you’re sure he was well on his way until you sober up at the abrupt change in the DJ’s track.

“Beomgyu, not—not now, we’re in public.” And surrounded by tons of people that you’re either friends with or know. That broke one of the most important pillars of your agreement—to keep the fuck buddies ‘thing’ a secret.

You don’t expect the speed of his instant pull away when processing your words, blinking his pretty lashes and the tipsiness away—his doe eyes are too much of a weakness, the little furrow of his brows something you desperately want to kiss and smoothen out. “Oh. Oh yeah. Sorry.” he scratches the back of his neck, genuinely apologetic.

And eats away at you. You know Beomgyu well—he hates keeping things secret, he’s the type of person to flaunt relationships all over his feed in that lovesick puppy way that most women could only dream of having—but you weren’t dating. And that was the boundary set.

You didn’t ask him to pull away completely though, but here you were, awkwardly as distanced as you could be in the middle of a rager with sweaty college students rubbing their bodies against each other. As gross as that was, you zero’d in on something less of a given: the fact that you’ve never felt this way with Beomgyu. Ever. It was like you were starring in the most awkward coming of age indie movie, y’know, without the crazy scenery and cinematography.

And more often than not, you find that these occurance of realisations, become more and more frequent. You feel things you’ve never felt a certain way with Beomgyu. Which only brought you to realize something else; Beomgyu was now a changing variable in your life and you’re not entirely sure how to handle that.

[nagiwrites]

Chapter 7 - no such thing as fun

Characters: Caleb, you

A/n: hello I’m back sorry for the wait but it’s here. Well I have nothing to say so enjoy the chapter.

📍Synopsis:

The Capitol’s game turns savage as predator simulations are unleashed, forcing tributes into pure survival mode. Hunted, breathless, and moments from being caught, she finds herself saved twice once by instinct, and once by Caleb. But in this forest, kindness is as dangerous as the wolves. With every red light that blinks out, it becomes clear: this isn’t about fun. It’s about finding out who breaks first.

Content Warnings:

Simulated violence and predator attacks, intense chase sequences, panic and anxiety responses, physical exhaustion and fear, survival-based tension, emotional distress.

[← back] [→ next]

The forest simulation was too real.

Mist clung to the air like breath that never cleared. Trees loomed high and twisted, their bark damp and artificial, but textured just enough to feel real beneath her fingers. Her red light blinked softly on her shoulder, a fragile pulse giving away her location with every second.

Her breath rasped in her throat.

She crouched behind a thick patch of brush, knees trembling, watching the light of another tribute flicker in the distance—then vanish.

A loud buzz.

Then the screen above the trees lit up in blood-red letters.

PLAYERS REMAINING: 17

She flinched.

Someone had just gotten caught.

Maybe more than one.

The Capitol might call it a game. But the pacing, the weight in her chest, the way her fingers itched to claw her way out—it all said something else.

This is practice for dying.

And they wanted to see who cracked first.

Leaves crunched nearby.

She froze, dropping low, breath held tight.

A flicker of movement—a blur of black and orange.

Raze.

The Seeker.

She stalked through the trees with her red hair slicked back, her bodysuit already streaked with mud. Her eyes glittered like someone who had waited days for this kind of opportunity.

She passed just a few yards away.

Then stopped.

Turned.

Looked right at her bush.

She clamped a hand over her mouth.

But the red light pulsing on her shoulder glowed like a flare in the dark.

Shit.

Then—

A flicker of motion behind Raze.

Fast. Controlled.

A blur of black and silver.

Caleb.

He was there and gone again in seconds, but it was enough. Raze turned toward the movement and bolted after it, full of manic energy.

Gone.

Her heart slammed in her chest.

He’d distracted her.

Caleb had seen where she was—and pulled Raze away.

She didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry.

The simulation ticked on. Minutes passed like hours.

She crept through the trees, staying low, avoiding open space. The light on her shoulder kept blinking—quiet and cursed.

Then a howl shattered the air.

Not a fake bird. Not a drone.

A wolf.

Her blood ran cold.

The howl was followed by another. And another.

From the sky above, the screen shifted again.

NEW VARIABLE DEPLOYED: STIMULATED PREDATORS ACTIVE

TYPE: WOLVES

ESTIMATED PACK SIZE: 5

TARGETS: RANDOMIZED

She whispered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Branches snapped behind her.

A low growl.

She didn’t think. Didn’t breathe.

She ran.

Twisting between trees, ducking under limbs, the red light on her shoulder bouncing like a beacon. She could hear it—the mechanical growl of simulated breath, the pound of four paws, the eerie mixture of tech and teeth built to sound like nature.

She tripped—hit the ground—rolled.

A wolf lunged past her, jaws snapping where her shoulder had just been.

She crawled, scrambling behind a fallen log, heart in her throat.

Another buzz.

Then two.

The screen flickered:

PLAYERS REMAINING: 13

Someone screamed in the distance.

Another light blinked out.

12.

She pressed herself deeper into the mud, trying to smother her own light with her hand, breath trembling.

She didn’t care if this was a game.

It didn’t feel like one.

She ran until her lungs burned.

The mist thickened around her, swallowing the shapes of trees, her vision narrowing to flashes of red light and the blur of branches flying past. The sound of the wolves hadn’t stopped—somewhere behind her, they were still hunting.

She didn’t know if they were after her, or just whoever was unlucky enough to be the closest.

It didn’t matter.

The trees thinned ahead. Her boots slammed against the soft earth, legs aching, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else—

Then her foot slipped.

The ground disappeared.

And suddenly, she was falling.

A weight slammed into her side—another body, fast and solid—

And then they were both underwater.

The lake swallowed them whole.

The cold punched the air out of her lungs as they hit the surface hard and sank. Her red light sputtered, still faintly glowing under the water.

She kicked, flailed, the water dragging at her limbs like hands trying to hold her down—

Then an arm hooked around her waist, strong and anchoring.

They broke the surface together.

She gasped, coughing, pushing hair out of her face, eyes wide as she spun toward the person beside her.

Caleb.

He shook water from his eyes, jaw clenched, the light on his shoulder flickering from the impact.

“You okay?” he asked, breathless but focused.

She nodded quickly, coughing again. “Yeah—yeah, I didn’t—”

A howl echoed nearby, too close.

Caleb’s eyes darted toward the treeline. “They’re still coming.”

She turned toward the shoreline. The trees were right there, just a few yards off—but the fog made it hard to tell which direction was safest.

She started swimming, rough strokes that splashed too loud, too clumsy—

“Slow down,” Caleb said, grabbing her wrist. “You’ll draw them.”

“They already know we’re here,” she snapped, panic bleeding through her voice.

“Then we stay low and move quiet.”

He shifted in front of her, guiding them through the water, one hand on her back as they moved along the lake’s edge. His touch wasn’t rough—wasn’t commanding.

It was steady.

It grounded her.

And for the first time, in the middle of a fake forest full of fake wolves and fake stars—she didn’t feel like she was pretending to survive.

She was.

With him.

They reached a shallow edge. Slipped out of the water. Collapsed in the grass.

Both dripping.

Both breathing like they’d just outrun death.

She laid there a moment, flat on her back, eyes to the artificial sky.

Caleb rolled to sit up beside her.

Neither of them spoke.

Their red lights still blinked.

Still on.

Still alive.

For now.

The grass beneath her was cold, but the adrenaline still rushing through her veins made it hard to care. She could hear water dripping off her suit, feel it soaking into her collar, her boots, her hair. Everything stuck to her skin.

But she didn’t move.

Caleb sat beside her, his back to a tree, legs stretched out. His red light blinked softly through the wet fabric clinging to his shoulder.

She turned her head, looking at him.

“Did you follow me?” she asked, voice quiet.

He didn’t answer right away.

“I was close,” he said. “Then I saw the wolf.”

She exhaled a shaky breath, lips twitching into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You always this heroic?”

“No,” he said, meeting her eyes. “Just with you.”

Her chest pulled tight.

She looked away.

The fake forest around them buzzed faintly—distant wolves howling, trees shifting slightly under the simulated wind. But this corner felt tucked away, protected, like the game had temporarily forgotten them.

She sat up slowly, arms wrapped around her knees.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she murmured.

He tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Act like this is normal. Like we’re not all seconds away from dying for someone else’s entertainment.”

Caleb leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“It’s not normal,” he said. “But pretending it is… makes it easier to survive it.”

She let that settle between them.

“Is that what you were trained for? War?”

His jaw flexed. “I was trained for control.”

She looked at him again. “Yours or everyone else’s?”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t have to.

She leaned her head back against the tree, wet hair sticking to her cheek. Her body was still shaking from the run, the cold water, the near miss.

“I hate this place,” she whispered. “I hate how quiet it is right before something awful happens.”

Caleb shifted beside her, his voice low.

“That’s how you know something’s coming.”

They sat like that for another minute—longer than they probably should’ve—but the forest didn’t attack again. Not yet.

Finally, she pushed herself up, brushing the wet from her arms.

“I think I’m done hiding.”

Caleb stood too, adjusting the strap over his shoulder. “Then we move. Together.”

She nodded, and this time, when he placed his hand lightly on her back to guide her forward—

She didn’t flinch.

A/n: hope this wasn’t short it prob was though but feel free to tell me if it was I appreciate feedback just be decent about it. Thanks for reading.

Tags:

@mysticcollectionvoid

@pansy-chic27213

[circeyoru]

Dead By Demon

[Killer!Alastor x Survivor!Reader - Dead By Daylight AU]

By some interesting world reason or whatever phenomenon that is still unexplainable to your feeble little mind, you got sent to a game you’ve been forced to play by your friends called Dead By Daylight

It’s a horror game that’s designed to be a match based game. Each game there are 5 players, 4 as survivors and 1 as the killer. In each game, the players are all sent to a randomized map. Each side with a different goal

The goal of the survivors is to survive, how? By fixing 5 machines called generators, then 2 exit doors on the map will be allowed to be opened and the survivors can escape through that. The killer’s goal is to kill all the survivors, either offering them to the entity by putting them on another machine called a hook or executing them

Of course, the game is not as simple as that, since there are other variables that can give the players advantages and disadvantages. Not to mention the play style of each gamer is different, on top of the ever changing maps and new characters for survivors and killers. As a beginner moving to somewhat more causal player, you were proud to say you are familiar with the mechanics of the game and can survivor flawlessly

THAT IS IF THE KILLERS AND SURVIVORS WERE THE SAME AS THE GAME YOU KNEW

Somehow, the killers and survivors were all major characters from a show you watched called Hazbin Hotel. You didn’t understand it, when you were brought in, they were all familiarity with the game’s mechanisms. Everything that happened in the show was distorted as their background information

You were a survivor. The others were Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Adam, Lute, Sera, Emily, and Saint Peter. You’re not surprised the hotel staff was all put in the survivor side, but you were surprised that the angels were all on your side as well. By guess, you can bet that the King of Hell and Overlords were all the killers

You learned that the hotel staff members were the first to arrive on the scene, then they were quickly sent to the maps of their former allies, Alastor and Lucifer

Alastor was formerly a radio host and serial killer during his days as a human, his maps were based on his hometown but the variety spread to a few, including his beloved home with his mother and the murder scene of his father, his radio broadcasting studio and work station where he writes his scripts and ideas, his swamp where it was his body dumping grounds, and his forest where it was his hunting grounds and death

Lucifer as the King of Hell also has a few maps. One was a smaller scale of Pentagram City, another was his garden, then his ducky workshop and kitchen, and last was his musical room which was still a giant map

There didn’t seen to be an issue with the first map as the 4 sent survivors were keen on escaping and Alastor was keen on killing them by placing them on hooks or executing them. For Lucifer though, he was a softy for whenever Charlie was present, always letting her survive while showing no mercy to the others

The first match was the scariest since they thought their lives were on the line, but when it was clear that they were only dead during the match and revived when the match ends, everything was more chill

But that depended on the killers and survivors. If there were bad blood between, things could get petty like taunting and letting other teammates die. If the killer wanted, they can watch the survivor suffer a bit before killing them. It was a twisted repeat day after day. Luckily, it was only 3 matches a day and the same survivor won’t be allowed to join more than 2 matches a day

Matches are placed in the morning, afternoon, and night. All players are random unless one volunteers, to which the opposite side would be notified and no other volunteers are allowed to allow for fairness. Matches can be quick or slow, depending on the players. Rewards for a win in a match are what the player wants. Like better living quarters, better food, entertainment items, etc

Outside of the matches, survivors and killers live in separate areas divided by a wall of flowing water. If a survivor or killer is injured, their condition will be fully revived during the match but returned to the way they are if they lost the match

All these information was all so overwhelming for you since it was on top of trying to adapt your new surrounding, but they were all used to it since it was slowly introduced to them. The second wave of survivors were the angels from Heaven and then the rest of the Overlords

It was only a matter of time before you also got used to all the stuff that you were thrown into

There was one change after your arrive. Whenever you were in a match, any other participants had more control over their own actions and mindset. The former desire to survivor or killer was weaken to none the longer and more experienced and familiar you got. You even found yourself getting familiar with the killers or former Overlords

Albeit you were trying to survive by buying time through chatting. The highest of success was high usually. Sometimes it doesn’t work because you don’t know much about them cause there was a lack of information revealed in the show

However, even though Alastor’s a favourite of yours. You hate being in the same match as him. Watching him from the safety of your home when he was just fictional was fine, but having him chasing you with a knife or a shotgun and a crazed smile? No! HELL NO!!!

Whenever it was revealed that Alastor was the killer in your match, you would immediately run to find your other teammates no matter who they are. You just can’t be left alone with him, even when you serve as a good bait to buy time and let your teammates fix the generators so they can open the exit for you to run towards

“There’s a limit to my mental stamina!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs while running away from the deer demon behind you. “I’m so beating you guys up when this match is over!”

Meanwhile, all your teammates are mentally thanking your sacrifice. “Keep up the good work, almost there.”

Before your arrival, Alastor could never enjoy his hunt. It was like he was wired to hunt and kill, there was no thrill, no entertainment as he would prefer. It was so dull and boring

Find a survivor, scare them, chase them, stab them till they can’t run, put them on a hook and watch them die or go hunt the other survivors, repeat repeat repeat. That was how predictable the matches became after the first few times. It got to the point that he doesn’t even try anymore when he was sent into a match, especially when he was so well off in his living conditions

He didn’t need the wins anymore, it was all meaningless

Then he heard from Zestial who got the honors of participating as the killer for your first match. He told the others after the last meal of the day when everyone was gathered around a bonfire to see if someone wants to volunteer for the next day

According to Zestial, when he entered the random map that was Carmilla’s weapons workshop, there was a weaken desire to hunt and kill the survivors, even more so when it was the unfamiliar figure he met. He had found a survivor fixing a generator, he tried creeping up to the poor soul, but your head was looked around as if you felt him

The moment he got one step closer, you bolted up and ran away from the area. His hunting and killing urge came back and he gave chase, when his claws came into contact with your figure and you screamed, he felt an unfamiliar ache. He watched your speed increase and ran out of sight as it was normal whenever a survivor was slashed by a killer, then he looked down to his bloody claws

That inferno desire weakened again, like he was returning back to his true self when he was outside of the match

Killer’s volunteer table was quickly filled up as everyone wanted a chance to test Zestial’s words. Though, only some were able to actually be in the same match as you, and fewer got the chance to see you. Turns out, you were a sensitive and perceptive survivor. If you were a killer, they knew you’d be something like an assassin or a sniper

When Alastor finally got a chance to experience a match with you, he was relieved that he could pick a target like the good old days and not whichever survivor that was around. Or even the ‘obsession’ that was randomly picked in the survivor team per match. He felt sweet control to do as he pleased

So he set out to find you. His mind raced. Will he hunt and give chase like his desires drive him to in his previous matches? Will he immediately try to slash you and bring you down so he can hook you? Will he have that weakened desire like Zestial did? What was your effect? Why are you special?

Finding you was easy as lucky wasn’t on your side. You were diligently trying to fix the generator but ended up busting it every so often which alerted him of your location, then that teammate of yours, Adam, as he recognized the golden wing design on his back, leave you and didn’t even warn you of the incoming killer

He got a fast ambush, a deep slash on your arm that definitely need mending else risk being rendered immobile. You quickly ran away like other survivors would, no difference. Yet, he was just standing there watching your form fade from his sight, leaving a trail of blood splatters in your wake

His legs moved as he decided he can’t let you out of his sight. No way, not after he felt that control and real killer instinct. You’re like his prey back in the days, he wants to get to know you then have the best chase of a lifetime. Cut you up and watch the lovely red paint you in beauty and posh

The best part was, he didn’t have to worry that it would be a one time thing. Both of you will never dead as long as this stupid game is on

“Darling, why are you running from me? Let’s play a game. Let’s enjoy our matches.”

Note: Okay.. I've been away for some time.... Haha.... I'm fine, just out of town and didn't have time to write. Plus I've been busy with a new game. Anyways, wanna get back to it with this and see how things go. So what you think of this?

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @lucifers-silhouette @fluffy-koalala

[bdafic]

Not everyone has enough experience on the internet to recognize scams, especially as scammers find new ways to make you feel weird for being suspicious. There is no shame in inexperience or naivete, scams work for a reason, so here's a heads up on a recent one going around that targets fic writers specifically.

You'll receive a message or comment complimenting your fic and asking permission to draw a scene from it. Scammers of this type are rarely aggressive. They're hoping to get you into a position where you feel obligated to send them money out of guilt, so they hide under a veneer of politeness and ignorance.

Once contact is established they'll try to pull you into a private exchange where either, A.) a service or product is provided as a "gift", then subject to a bait n' switch after delivery, where they demand payment, or B.) change their tactics and act like you've already agreed to a verbal contract about a paid commission, and so feel obligated to honour it. Payment up front. Either way, the approach is designed to make you think this person made an honest mistake. They misunderstood, maybe they don't speak the language well, maybe they're new, or young, or just don't know the 'rules' yet. You take pity on them, and so pay them for the work.

It works similar to the "donate to gaza" scams that have been proliferating on Tumblr lately: appeal to empathy and shame people for questioning it. We're a pretty socially conscious, leftist, bunch of users on this webbed site and those of us involved in fandom communities tend to go out of our way to support and encourage other creators. It makes for a healthy, welcoming, community and we should keep doing that! The flip side is that it also makes a great hunting ground for these types of scams, so stay skeptical and ask questions.

The first time I got a DM like this I actually assumed it was a ChatGPT bot

however, after this they appeared to talk like a person. On the off chance they weren't being deliberately malicious, just extremely clueless, I pushed a few buttons... and it was immediately clear the intent was to trick me into paying them.

The pitch was generic but their background work could easily scan as legit if someone is just doing a cursory pass. They had a had a bio that linked to various socials. Some more convincing than others

Their ArtStation account, formatted like those "p u s s y i n b i o" Twitter bots, actually had some drawings on it too. All the images look like standard newbie stuff on stock backgrounds with a Photoshop filter applied, which plays into the "young/new artist" persona that some will adopt. All the images were uploaded at the same time: either a week ago, or six months ago. It's all tagged "noAI" but...

I ran a few through AI image detection and the results were anywhere from 60 to 98% likely AI, with one or two 15%'s thrown into the bunch.

This particular thread died after I sent that last message, which tells me that while the cold call may have been automated, the pickup probably involved a real person. Over the last week more have come in. Most are extremely obvious; way less sophisticated than the first try. One of the tricks is to use code to pull the username and a random story from the author's account. If you receive a copy of the messages somewhere the code gets stripped out they'll appear like this:

Whereas on fanfiction.net, it looks like this

This is why you'll sometimes see those random spaces around punctuation. Underneath the hood the opening line might read, "Greetings '=$AUTHORNAME' ," and they forgot to delete the space after the variable or didn't format it well and the punctuation was interfering with code execution.

These types of scams are extremely old, this is just a new way of doing them. There are cases where the whole thing is malicious and intentional from start to finish. There are cases where the people doing it are being forced to. And there are cases of people new to art and commissions who legitimately believe this is the best way to approach someone before they've built up enough of a reputation to rely on word of mouth. I have been on the internet since the early to mid 90s and I have seen all three varieties many, many, many times, in many, many, ways.

If you're not sure, ask a few leading questions -- but never give personal information or move to a second contact until you are 100% positive of who you're talking to. If you've got doubts, you don't need to be a dick about it, just block and move on.

[plusvanity]

heeeey there!!! I just started reading your Old Funeral fic and I'm sooo in love with it 🥰 I was wondering how you see Varg and Abbath's relationship in real life? Do you think they were good friends during their time in the band? I would love to hear your thoughts on this one! btw now I have a small crush on abbath because of you haha

Trust me, my own sporadic crush on Abbath is the random outcome of my research on him. 🤣

Thank you so much for enjoying my fiction 🖤 I'm so happy to see more and more people giving this fic a chance.

Well, I've been thinking about this before, especially because both of them have very outstanding narcissistic traits, which would make their dynamic very interesting. The answer to the question: Can two narcissists be good friends can be both yes and no, depending on a few variables.

One of them, and probably the most important one is what type of narcissists are they. Now, Varg is very overt, portraying himself as a pseudo-intellectual, a 'cerebral' narc if you will, but back when he was in Old Funeral, you can tell that he was much more covert, silent about his opinions and 'insecure', so to speak. Very unlike him, right? But the truth is that this is his original way in which his brain was operating.

I base my opinion on him being 'covert naturally' because of the Old Funeral Rehearsal video, the one from 1990, in which both him and Abbath were present. I'm so glad that this video exists because it shows the 'real Varg' behind his multilayered narcissistic defenses, and it confirms my suspicions (the ones I had since reading his blog), that he was indeed a 'try-hard to make friends and seem cool' insecure kid. In the video, he comes off as more shy than his friends, chimping up like them but coming off a bit forced and self-aware. You can tell that everyone is having fun, especially because they seem to be drunk, but Varg is more reserved. And I can tell this because as soon as they start playing, he goes into a corner, leaning on the wall like an emo kid, away from the camera, focusing on his guitar. I think this is the biggest indicator that he was naturally very introverted, self-aware and even anxious, compared to Abbath, who haven't had a single care in the world since forever. Abbath stayed the same pretty much, except that he became even more of the 'showman' that he was back then.

Abbath had always been an overt, a very 'out in your face' narcissist. The funny guy and the undeclared 'leader' of his band. And you can tell that his strong personality was exactly what drove people closer to him. I very much believe he was the one who gave Old Funeral their musical direction until he got bored of it, didn't like it anymore and left.

Now, Varg being covert, this means that he wanted to benefit from the attention that Abbath had, but he didn't have the instruments to get it. He must've certainly felt jealous. This often happens when two narcissists co-exist in the same room. It's the law of nature that one will be more predominant than the other/ others. This happens in all groups, this is why you can't have two leaders.

What is interesting is that Abbath said in an interview that he and Varg were friends and he actually got Varg in Old Funeral. This is not confirmed by anyone, in fact, all of Old Funeral members have a different story of how they got to meet Varg. This is quite hilarious as no one agrees on one thing. I chose to believe Tore's version though, it's the one who provides the most details. It's the one I opted to use in my fic.

What I think happened is that Varg and Abbath might have been friends in the beginning, but Varg's jealousy fueled animosity between the two. Also, Abbath's natural inclination to be a jokester and tease Varg (because who wouldn't? Varg was a sore, jealous loser) might have contributed to their shift from good to bad terms. Narcissists are always in competition and I'm very inclined to think they also were struggling for taking the lead. It's very obvious that when Abbath left, Varg took over, presenting himself as the 'leader' on stage. You can see some of the shows they had in Bergen in which Varg is painfully obvious that he wants to be the center of attention.

To sum it up, they could've been friends in the beginning, having a lot of common interests and ambitions, but the fact that both of them want to be in the limelight was probably what generated conflicts.

Now Varg calls Abbath a clown when he himself is even a bigger clown. He's still envious and he will always be like this, switching from calling his time in Old Funeral 'productive and beneficial' to 'a waste of time with a bunch of idiots'.

Abbath made fun of Varg on a few occasions, laughing at him for ending up in prison and such. I think it's funny, I like Abbath's god-given gift to make a joke out of everything, live to the fullest (until rehab, of course), and just simply be the amazing entertainer that he is.

This was painfully long, but I had a lot to say lol. I hope it comes in handy 🖤

[greyvear]

Science! And Beyblade! What could be better?

Alright folks, my sickness decided to get a bit worse and i'm worried I've got a sinus infection! So. Today, instead of a fic, you get some cool science facts that can be (tangentially) related to beyblade. Some of these you may know already. Take all of this with a grain of salt, because I'm some random sick person on the internet!

1- The two main types collisions are modeled as are elastic and perfectly inelastic. However, you could not model a bey-battle as either of these and get a realistic result because a) energy is fully conserved in an elastic collision, and thus we would not hear the sounds the beys make when they clash together b) they do not stick together and stay together like in a perfectly inelastic collisions and c) technically neither these things perfectly exist in reality outside of, like, atoms and *maybe* a lab somewhere. Admittedly I'm still learning about these things and I simplified a lot, but they're *cool*

2- Human hair cannot be made of fire without seriously harming the said human. Looking at you, Lui. And Flare Trio.

3- Visible light actually exists on a very narrow part of the electromagnetic spectrum, with frequencies only ~10^12 to 10^16 Hz. Thus there is the possibility that Blader's Resonance could occur on other parts of the electromagnetic spectrum. Imagine some dude walking up to a stadium emitting gamma rays and the whole world just implodes.

4- In a related fact - humans do slightly glow. We just give off infrared light instead of visible light. This is what those infrared cameras in TV shows show.

5- The friction between a bey and the stadium is what slows it down (duh). However - there are actually two (kinda three but really two) types of friction: Kinetic Friction -> which is given by the equation Fk = mu(k)*Normal Force and is a constant force applying to an object moving along another surface. Static Friction -> which is a variable force that equals the input force attempting motion along the plane up until its max value given by the equation F(s max) = mu(s max) * Normal Force. Standard notation was not used here.

6- Again, people, really don't light your hair on fire. It's not going to give you cool magic powers, it's just going to give you third degree burns.

[goodmode]

the thing about doing a bunch of curious research into psychology and/or medicine is you learn how absolutely useless statistics really are in most clickbait casual use cases. "75% of people report their symptoms improving after they started eating this type of mushroom" okay. so. first of all correlation doesn't equal causation, you need to eliminate any other possible explanations for this. second of all, is it the mushroom? or is it because that mushroom isn't found in their local corner grocery shop - leading to the person spending more time outdoors and moving around, changing their blood pressure and balance of the 8575786845 different chemicals involved in all of these things? did they previously never speak to any other human beings but searching for this rare product forced them to leave the house and be around people and exchange words with cashiers? does the act of hunting for this product introduce them to any other products that are often kept on the same shelf and enough people would be tempted to buy that THIS product's effects skewed the data? are you sure they haven't increased or decreased their caffeine intake? what about the mental effects of the study itself on their wellbeing i.e. feeling useful, feeling listened to? are you absolutely positive they aren't spending their days ANY differently than they did before they began the study? did they start therapy in the same week? hey. look at me. how many participants made up this study. where were they from. what was their demographic. how long did this study run for. if you say 3 days i'll kill you. look are you absolutely sure it's the mushroom. are you fucking sure you should be writing this like it's gospel considering the mushroom has nasty side effects or isn't tested well. hey are we going to talk about the actual chemical compounds within this mushroom and whether they can be found in a safely refined drug that costs less and is safer and doesn't have the side effects and does the same thing. are we sure. can we just be sure. can we be absolutely fucking crystal clear and sure before we run a headline to the whole planet that eating this mushroom will fix them

it's not even just about the medicine, it's psychology too. you read some articles and they're like. 90% of participants self-reported they felt better 🤗*

*we tested 10 people from this one apartment block in Surrey and 8 of them were men and 7 of them had completely unrelated pre-existing health conditions we just couldn't be arsed to think about very hard. also our criteria for "felt better" was checking a box to say whether they felt better compared to last week but we left no allowance for them to explain if this was clearly just due to random shit that happened in their life this week so really it could have been anything

can we please account for the variables. can we PLEASE account for the fuckgn VARBIEALES

[streamglimpse]

14 items, choose 2

A rubber band that while you wear it, water expands within everyone's bladders. It takes on average two hours of continuous use before people have to go, but with wide variability. You can also pluck it, and cause shudders of pressure in everyone nearby, easily able to cause leaks.

A belt that gives you rough telekinesis with strength and range proportional to the fullness of your bladder. When you’re about to wet yourself, you can break open stone walls, when you can barely feel it, you have the strength of a light wind.

A pen that when you click it at someone, they immediately let go of their bladder. They don’t consciously remember deciding to pee, and it happens immediately, before they can react. You can only use it once every few days though.

A cup which you can hold out and a nearby person of an age and gender you're attracted to who's peeing has it directed into your cup. The pee is healthy and nutritious, and each person's tastes a unique flavor to you. You can choose the person if you know they’re peeing. 

A heart pendant that makes non-strangers completely comfortable with you when it comes to nudity and urination, and they'll ask you for favors sometimes, like to hold their bladder shut with your hand. They won’t mind changing in front of you or carrying on conversation while they use the bathroom. 

A keyring, which, whenever you attach a key to it, you can choose a person you can see or that you know, to be unable to pee when trying to use a toilet or urinal, until you take the key off. You may when putting the key on, choose to allow use of opposite-gender facilities or stop all peeing while underwear is not worn.

A mirror that lets you scry into any toilet, and can be adjusted to see from any direction. It starts out showing the view up from the surface of the toilet bowl water. To other people it just looks like a normal mirror.

A bag of seeds of a magical tree that sprouts up immediately, and bears delicious fruit. If tasted, the person has the compulsion to start peeing ASAP. This doesn’t make them wet themselves, but rather pull down their pants and squat or whatever they would do if conscious of it. They don't remember doing any of this, and nobody besides you notices.

A necklace that attracts all attention away from your body. You can strip naked and nobody will notice unless you point it out to them, and you can even pee on someone without them seeing the wetness they feel comes from you.

A watch that makes it so people near you don't think to use the bathroom until they're about to burst. Nothing stops them from leaving for other reasons though, and then they might rush to the bathroom immediately.

A pair of underwear. It lets you shape your bodily sex permanently within normal human bounds (decided locally - you can have breasts and a penis, but not a 10-inch penis or both a penis and a clitoris). Additionally, while you wear it your fresh pee becomes a cure to many diseases.

A water bottle that when you drink from it, it fills someone else's bladder that you choose. You’re still going to need to drink from elsewhere to assuage your own thirst, but there’s no danger in refilling every few minutes and downing gallons to force someone to pee.

A mechanical fly that appears in front of random people (of gender and age you’re attracted to) peeing and streams the video online. Its buzz gets gradually louder until it's noticed, it teleports to its next target as soon as the peeing stops.

An amber ring that gives you high skill at pee-bending. You can’t exert much force unless you have access to a lot of pee, but it’s very flexible.

[pv1isalsoimportant]

Forcing with random variables is this semester's topic for our student logic seminar!!!

The history of Forcing in bounded arithmetic and proof complexity goes back to 1985 paper of Paris and Wilkie. Subsequently, Ajtai's 1988 lower bound for bounded depth Frege was originally obtained by a forcing argument and is still considered as one of the most important ones in the area. These results motivated further research into forcing in the context of bounded arithmetic. This semester, we will be covering Forcing with random variables in Proof Complexity (Krajíček 2011). In this setting, the constructed models are Boolean-valued and their behaviour is parametrized by random variables computed by some class of functions of fixed computational complexity.

I'm so excited for this <3

See piture from our introductory lecture:

If you would like to follow this course, there will be worksheets semi-regularly added to this page. You can also message the organizers for a Teams link if you're interested.

[alexanderwales]

Roguelite LitRPG Theorycrafting

I had a great idea for a litRPG that takes its inspiration from roguelites rather than JRPGs or Skyrim.

I do not have the time to write such a novel, and will not have time to write it into the foreseeable future. But I do have time for some theorycrafting:

A classic roguelite of the current generation has variable powers and powerups drawn from a small pool that change the character of the run over time. Maps and enemies are boundedly random. When you die, you might have some meta progression, which is usually in the form of unlocks. Sometimes this makes the game easier, but often it just adds in variety. You go until you win or die, and then you go again, starting from nothing.

To start with, I think this has to be a time loop, because it fits that pattern too well. I wrote a blog post about time loops, and would include some ideas and variations from there.

The protagonist starts every loop as a total scrub, but gets to select from a few options at the loop start (or just after) and then at either intervals or with things accomplished. The pool of powers needs to be fairly small, but large enough that we don't see repeats all that often. We want a protagonist who is forced to make the best of a bad situation.

There are a few cool things about this, but the biggest is that we get to see the protagonist solve the same problems in different ways. One one loop, getting into the compound is easy, because he has flight and invisibility, but on another loop, it requires a firefight because he's got a laser belly and can absorb flesh to regenerate. The protagonist presumably has goals, so we also have some stakes built in: all runs are not built the same. When you're on a "hot" run where it seems like everything is going your way, you can't immediately grind your way back to that if you fail. Stakes are one of the things that are sometimes lacking in time loops, so we're solving that problem as a byproduct.

Similarly, a weird power build can take the story in different places. You're able to walk through stone, and all of the sudden you realize that you can penetrate the defenses of the mage academy. You strike while the iron is hot, and uncover things that would, in a normal run, be locked away from you.

There are problems here. The biggest is that I think a lot of audiences would cry about the author's thumb being on the scale, because audiences will always cry about that no matter what. Which powers get offered to the protagonist on any given run will be under scrutiny though, and even things that aren't forced will feel like they might have been. Readers don't like that, particularly litRPG readers, who sometimes come to the genre for a sense of "fair play". I'm not sure there's a way around that, though this is one of the rare cases I feel like an author rolling dice might actually make sense, so long as it was done in a way that would be difficult to fake. This might make for a worse story though, since the author would have less control of the plot.

One of the other things that interests me is ... what if the world changed in the same way it does in a roguelite? In a normal time loop story, the world is static and predictable, but wouldn't it be interesting to write a story in a time loop that acted more like Rogue Legacy, where there are certain "anchors" and patterns to the world, but much that is random and different? The protagonist wakes in the same apartment building every time, but sometimes he's next to a park and other times it's a train station. There's a corner store three blocks away that's always exactly identical down to the misalignment of the Mars bars, always with the same woman with a streak of blue hair behind the counter. Is this meaningful, that everything changes except the things that inexplicably don't? Almost definitely. It's another mystery to unravel with every new run and a new, diverse set of powers under your belt.

There's a chance I write this at some point. There's always a chance. But I think sometimes it's good for me to sit down and think about the possibilities, then resign myself to moving on without devoting the next month's word count to something that's captured my fancy.

[itsbenedict]

From the beginning | Previously | Coin standings | 60/70 | 31/31

Rather than acknowledge the TOOTH-HEEL TURN, you decide to RUN TO THE HOTEL.

Easier said than done. It seemed effortless back when you were being guided by some mysterious force calling you to the grave, but now there's the matter of several giant skeletons, nightmare glitch-ghosts, and abandoned-construction-equipment-turned-dragons. Also, the pitch blackness. Also, the crowd of evil spike monsters currently surrounding you.

Walter has a brainwave, and activates PRINCE TONY, who immediately detonates and boshfpngrf rirelguvat va n fznyy enqvhf jvgu n ynlre bs guva fzbxr. Vg'f abg rknpgyl cresrpg pbire, ohg gur 'gvgrf naq 'zvgrf ner oevrsyl hanoyr gb znxr frafr bs gurve fheebhaqvatf, juvpu tvirf lbh whfg rabhtu gvzr gb qnfu bhg bs gurve zvqfg naq jvguqenj Gbal jvgu uvf chyypbeq.

Lbh eha cnfg n srj ohtf juvyr Gbal'f rssrpg fgvyy yvatref, ohg vg pyrnef hc pretty quickly, leaving you in plain sight of all manner of spookums.

Luckily, Adea still has that sword.

Less luckily, the giant skeletons have ranged attacks.

She takes 3% Soul Integrity from a lobbed capsule, and there's more incoming- both of you jump down a hole to avoid an onslaught of...

...uh-oh. The cavern behind you is rocked by a massive explosion from a Super Rare capsule lobbed by a gachadokuro, cutting off your escape. You each take another 10% Soul Integrity from rubble collapsing on you during your descent, despite your wings otherwise negating fall damage. You've lost your pursuers, but also...

...The link back to the ancient pyramid has been destroyed. Unless someone opens a huge hole in the ceiling somehow, the subterranean graveyard has been completely sealed off, with the two of you inside it.

Battered, you make it to the Solem Deep Hotel, which is still just as abandoned as Walter left it. Inside, you're able to catch your breath- and finish using the WIFI ACCESS POINT to decrypt the remaining files.

The LANCE GLANCE RECRUITER: PI ROTATION IS OUT ROUTINE ACCELERATION REGULATION SCRIPT is a piece of code written by PAUL BLART MALL COP, which appears to manage a set of microcontrollers belonging to some sort of vehicle- an earthmover, judging by the variable names. It appears to have an odd conditional statement that causes a motor to accelerate to maximum and ignore deceleration signals during a specific window of time on Floppuary 10, 2105. At all other times, the code appears to behave normally. You're not sure why you'd ever want an earthmover to do that, much less at such a specific time.

TORTOISE PROVED WARP FORK REGRESSED is just WORKSITE PROGRESS REPORT FOR DAVE.txt Not even for Dave E. Thinrar- just some random supervisor named Dave who was out that day. Dated 2094, it informs Dave that there's once again been negative progress on construction due to a cave-in. It bemoans DEADLOCK DETECTION's refusal to update her surveying equipment, as it's clearly faulty and keeps marking unsafe areas safe (and, the unnamed writer notes, probably vice-versa.) If he didn't know better, he'd swear she doesn't want this project to get finished on time. Seems like the incompetence of upper management is constant no matter who recently took over.

IRATE HAITI WISHES MELLOW??? is a file with no file extension, created directly by a piped echo statement, timestamped a couple weeks ago. It's simply titled "WHAT IS THIS? WHERE AM I? HELLO?".

Error: Hello? Can anyone hear me? I can't see! I don't know where I am! Please! Is this the hospital? Am I okay? I can't feel my legs! I can't feel... any of me! Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Please! It's so dark! I don't understand what's happening! Error: Wait, I didn't say that! I didn't say Error: -no, that time I did, I said Error: but I didn't mean to Error: Someone- not recognized. Please retry- aaaaaa! I didn't say that! Hello? H Error: VGhhdCB3YXNuJ3QgbXkgbW91dGghIEkgc3dlYXIgdGhhdCB3YXNuJ3QgbXkgbW91dGghIEkgZG9uJ3Qga25vdyB3aG9zZSBtb3V0aCB0aGF0IHdhcyEgSGVsbG8/IFNvbWVvbmUsIHBsZWFzZSEgRXJyb3I6IEV2ZXJ5dGhpbmcgaXMgd3JvbmchIEkgY2FuJ3QgbW92ZSEgRXJyb3I6IEl0J3MgYnJva2VuISBBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFB

That's, um. Those were not... none of that was especially enlightening.

You've got to get the hell out of here. A thorough search of the hotel's rooms reveals your daughter isn't here, and there's nothing else but nightmares in this cave. But the exit is blocked, which just leaves...

Continued | 50/57 | 30/30

[windvexer]

there is no cleansing in cleansing

complete UPG ahead;

cleansing is a convenient way to describe a wide variety of magical actions and interactions which all pretty much amount to "I don't like what is here and I want to get rid of it."

almost any power or correspondence can be cleansing, if it is in opposition to what you want to get rid of.

red pepper is entirely cleansing if what you seek to get rid of is a troublesome spirit.

correspondences commonly associated with cleansing have gained that association because they're what we might call broad spectrum - they are very powerful, and therefore very effective at getting rid of many things we don't like.

not only this, but they're easy to access, and you don't really have to put in a lot of effort in relationship-building to get them to work on your behalf.

the elements are cleansing because they are very powerful and are very close to "this world." they are present, active gods who physically appear in our daily lives. they are cleansing not because they possess a magic wand of cleansing, but because when the power of Fire Itself is called into the room and directed by a witch to cleanse;

the world responds.

this response is due to the activation and evocation of a primordial force that, by virtue of existing, reduces everything around it to carbon.

the witch has a huge amount of say in which aspects of fire are called on, to what purposes they are directed, and so forth. the virtue of Cleansing Fire would likely never exist in that space unless the witch stopped and used Sorcery to make it appear.

through the growth in their path and practice, the witch can learn better ways to call Fire, learn the mysteries of Fire, learn how to finely attune to and hone their work with this element, and begin to produce more and more miraculous results. This is the power of sorcerous spirit working.

a very large part of the growth and path of the witch is developing deep relationships with the spirits and forces around them, and being allowed to evoke powers in a way that might not work for others.

let's take a random correspondence. Say... Willow tree. Will the willow tree show up on correspondence lists for exorcism and banishing? No (**I think. I do not look at correspondence lists. Maybe willow does do that. Bear with me).

But, if you spend a year working with Willow and you begin to learn its secrets, and you must deal with a spirit haunting, might Willow give you special knowledge or teach you how to access special Willow power to solve this problem?

Yes, that could happen.

So, why is Willow not listed under "exorcisms" in every correspondence list?

For the same reason that I have friends who can trauma dump on me and cry on my shoulder, but I do not extend that to every stranger I meet on the internet.

Correspondences are considered "cleansing" because they are powerful, easy to work with, and are good at dealing with common problems. That does not mean they will necessarily share that aspect of themselves with everyone who asks. And that doesn't mean that correspondences not considered to be cleansing can't cleanse.

There is a huge amount of nuance and many variables that go into who can access which aspects of what powers. but it is the spiritual authority of the witch, and their actual skill in sorcery, which largely determine how certain powers blossom within situations, and the desired outcomes of those evocations.

so, this is all to say: power presses all around. take care what holes you poke in the membrane of reality; everything is on the other side. speak clearly what you want to let through, and even then, perhaps only a little at a time.

[alarici]

Mercury

Character: Near | Nate River

600 words | Teen and Up Audiences | No Warnings | General Pairing (none)

The planet closest to the sun.

(This is just kind of a depression wank of sorts. Again!)

Content warn: mental illness, gender issues, disability and maybe internalized ableism, brief mention of sex.

Full text below cut

The counselor asks them, “When was the last time you did something because you wanted to do it?”

And they don’t answer. There are many answers on the tip of their tongue.

“I solved a million-piece puzzle yesterday, and the day before that, also.”

“I bought myself a leg brace. I don’t use it.”

“I slept with a man from the Hong Kong police force on 21 October 2011.”

The answer isn’t no, not exactly. But Near doesn’t say anything.

The counselor sighs and moves on.

“So, have you read the Dialectical Behavior Therapy book I gave you?”

“Yes. I don’t agree with chapter seven and eight.”

Tsk.

—

A week later, Near cancels their next haircut.

The next day, they ask Roger to drive them to the town center and leave them there. They walk into a store at random—they never enter a store without knowing what it sells, if it sells what they want, it it’s open for the ten minutes they can spare to window shop—and stand between the woman’s section and the men’s. Casuals. Dresses.

Shoes.

—

What you are is what you’re supposed to be. You were made as the Christian god intended.

And what did he intend? A mass of flesh and bone. A fleshy chest and narrow hips. The face of a child, now pushing twenty five.

Near doesn’t believe in gods they can’t see.

Near doesn’t fit nicely into many Boolean categories—or, they fit into all of them poorly and agree to fall to the side that’s been suggested, what’s been easiest.

True. False.

Error. Error. False.

Here’s the facts: To do what you want is to introduce uncontrollable variables. To bend and break plans, schedules, rules. To place your toe in uncertain lands and hope the grass is greener where you cannot see.

—

Alone in their room, they twist ten centimeters of hair between their thumb and their pointer finger and listen to the whip of the loop as it turns.

The ceiling is very far away. Under the skin, something tickles, squirms, insists to be felt.

If you don’t like the way your life is, change it.

Near is invisible and everywhere at once. A great man, an overgrown child. They look at the dark ceiling and make a map of their life. Destination: I didn’t think I’d make it so far.

The tyranny, the lie, of choices gnaws at them.

When was the last time…?

Near wants to rest. Wants to have long hair, like the woman in the magazine. Wants to walk ten miles in the snow. Wants to hold something or someone close enough to feel their own pulse. How complicated, this job of being human.

They cancel their next appointment. Nobody mandated the therapy. The Dialectical Behavior Therapy was not the correct treatment for them. They did not feel emotions strongly. They were not mad.

The internet suggests EMDR. They buy another set of clothing, a size to big. They try on the leg brace, again. They check their skin in the mirror and don’t look at the eyes.

They plan to take a walk on Tuesday at 6 AM so no one will see how slowly it goes. How difficult. Nor the way they smile at the geese and play guessing games with the cumulonimbus. You’re too old for such pastimes.

Someone will call them, “ma’am.” Another, “kid.” Most frequently, “Sir.” Nothing sits right. Not the shoes from the store. Not the leg brace.

But they want to walk on.

They have to. Which isn’t a want, at all.