#hackxr

[hackxr]

      🄳🄾🄽'🅃 🄵🄾🅁🄶🄴🅃 🅃🄾 🄻🄾🄲🄺 🅈🄾🅄🅁 🄱🄰🄲🄺🄳🄾🄾🅁

♯ [!!!] » Indie Hacker OC // 21+, MDNI; ♯ [!!!] » Penned by tonik // Mid-millennial & casual AF; ♯ [!!!] » Est. 2013 // Rebooted 2025; ♯ [!!!] » AU // OC // Crossover Friendly; ♯ [!!!] » Open to short, long, plotted, dark, suggestive, shenanigans, etc.;

 [ roo7 ] [ query ] [ da7a ] [ manual ]

[ofeggsandtraining]

+ 11

hackxr

son-of-skarmory

aqxaadminmatt

human-bluejay

harmonia-deus

corrupted-golden-hatcher

eradicari

ash-chosenone

immortalitebrulant

mayflieswithstanding

silensexitium

      {{✘}} -- "Do you need somethin' or are you just gonna stand there...?"

[lesliisms]

dixxmeliora txrpe impxled hackxr

              ••¤(`×[¤ [【ђยгt】 ] ¤]×´)¤••

     Couches were no substitute for a bed,      but it was an honor and      a privilege to be given the      place for the evening.      However, it didn't keep away the      nightmares that drew tears from eyes      that had long since been      forced to endure what      the mind could not process. 

                  "Leslie... wants to go home." 

[spaciisms-blog]

+4

{ draconicdwellings} { isuckatmyjob } { filiusaranea } { hackxr }

       ”Okay, if you can guess the name of the smallest galaxy out         there and how many stars it approximately has, I will buy you         any coffee you want.”

[the-black-umbrella-blog]

A Gothamite's Welcome

Oswald banged on the big warehouse door. It was made of solid metal and was cold to the touch. He had relinquished the keys to Sentinel in an act of great trust, so even if he'd wanted to intrude in her sanctuary he would have a hard time in it. 

He rubbed his hands together in the cold, gift bag and takeout bag at his feet. Oswald was eager to get inside. Gotham was cold and windy today, despite the unusually clear skies, and the wind was biting at his nose, which he was sure was a nice bright red. 

[agentharrisonofshield-a]

// *flails and hides under a pillow*

[hackxr]

    Ｓｅｌｆ                 » Proclaimed «                                 D̘̠͎͟͝a̷̵̩̖͔̼͙r͘҉̤k̹͖̲̰̰̝̘̲͟n͕͈̻͙̠̤̪̞e̪̹͉̖͠ͅt̹̬̟̞͚͉͟                                                       Kιηg

Indie Hacker OC // 21+, MDNI; Penned by tonik // Mid-millennial & casual AF; Est. 2013 // Rebooted 2025; Multi [ verse // ship // fandom ]; OC // AU // Crossover Friendly; Dark / suggestive themes likely, shenanigans definitely;

                          » da7a || manual || query || dir «

[apexpraedator]

☣▌ @hackxr

              “I remember yooo-ou. A long time ago.                            Eons.  I forget conversations, but I never forget a face.”

[highestcommand-blog]

hackxr

"What a fine looking set of wheels you are…" Knockout drawled, with his holomatter avatar leaning on the door of his alt-mode. "But you can’t go faster than me, though."

[coldbloodedsnxper-blog]

+4

fancyspaceman fabulousmandos regeneratus and hackxr have disturbed the sniper

[ SEV ]: "I wouldn't do that if I were you. That box is filled with Kouhuns. Once they sting you, you can say goodbye to your eyesight. But, go ahead and open it if you want. Just remember one thing: I warned you."

[and-rise-up-blog]

Utmost Silence

Starscream kept his back turned to the room. Soundwave had eyes everywhere, after all. Subtly, he checked his incoming messages. Nothing. He had to wait, assuming he had done everything correctly.

Subterfuge was a such a volatile game to play. Any little thing could send his plans in a different direction, and that wasn’t going to be conducive to his end goal. Privately, he skimmed over the message again. He was sure he’d sent it over the correct communication lines, just out of Soundwave’s realm of knowledge. It was such a little message. Sure not to turn up too much notice.

[ sen7inel, i find myself in need of your services. i am willing to pay you handsomely for your time, of course. if you are interested in taking a challenging project in data collection, please indicate a response. sincerely, wind-spires]

It had been almost three hours since he’d sent the communique. What was taking the human so long?

[sneakymedulla]

Five random things about yourself then pass along to ten of your favourite followers :U woot

i was once part of an informal martial-arts training group. i got someone into a sleeper hold and knocked them out successfully.

then she did the same to me xD

i saw the original wright brother's first successful test plane at the smithsonian.

i am currently teaching myself Unity and C#

ive had 4 bf's and 1 gf

[xghostempire-blog]

Ecountering . . . @hackxr​

Ah, yes. Time to relax.       And what better place to do that than a rave?

She wasn't really here to relax, but merely to get her head off things. Which could be equalled with relaxation in her eyes. Besides relaxation and taking the mind of things, a rave also provided her with music. Even if they didn't normally have as much variety, compared to her taste. Her outfit was kept simple in contrary to the others around her, keeping up her usual tomboyish clothing style. It was easy to hide in, fall out of a crowd like that. Not by blending in, but by going under through simplicity. Plus, it'd keep away jerks trying to hit her up. Eww, no time and certainly no interested in that. She was uncatchable in more than just one sense of the word.

At a rave, it wasn't unusual to find GH0STC4T either observant at the side of or straight in the scene - she loved to watch humans. It was interesting how others acted and what they said. It was a relief to not only stare at a computer screen and codes, or just pictures and TV reports of people. And she kinda wanted to keep an eye on her surroundings, even when winding down from work...

Right now, though, the hacker seriously needed a drink. So she snaked her way through the crowd towards the bar, careful to not touch anybody...

    She did a good job.

            Some idiot didn't.

Said idiot almost knocked the ghost cat over by dancing headlessly, causing her to stumble and... What a fucking asshole. She promptly bumped into another guest; a blonde female. Quickly, she backed up, raising her hands in an apologizing gesture.

                       "Sorry... sorry! Didn't mean to-- are you alright?"

[progenitorensis]

A lone Linksys E4200's logs are empty. They should be full of useless telemetry to seed 𝚕𝚌𝚐_𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍().

[𝚃𝚃𝚈 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝙿𝙸𝙳 𝟾𝟸𝟶𝟹.]

Like any sitting duck, it has been inevitably shot, and the digital gore of one dusty, obscure backup server connected through LAN with file transfers has enabled a cascading, unprecedented breach to occur in a facility that he doubts this attacker is aware of the true significance of.

Why did it always fall to him - or Excella - to speak to whatever jester of the hour jingled by?

This duty — like tucking a tail between the legs — bruises his ego. And though he can play the part, it does not necessitate he desire to.

Naturally, it falls to him to answer. Wesker is the only one of two options that retains any modicum of IT knowledge, even if it's tailored to the long-defunct Z-series. He reclines with a sigh in his chair, a printed incident report — the only thing he trusts to be true in this room — in one hand, an unplugged Ethernet cord being twirled idly in the digits of his other.

Bone conduction carries the attacker's voice. The first string to pull will be guilt — "You do realize you're currently disrupting the availability of life-saving pharmaceuticals to hospitals, yes?" It is delivered smoothly, but the wry hint isn't lost.

Keeping the attacker on longer will allow internal teams more time to mount a defense, which currently consists of isolating the router by pulling services offline one-by-one, going under like glittering lights - green, yellow, then red...

"They will be dealt with." There is something restrained in that.

...and it's less time for them — no, her — to grep valuable data that would provide the RSA keys to—

In bitter hindsight, Wesker had known it was a bad idea. He'd warned the engineers when they decided to trim operating cost by scaling back infrastructure, nixing the upper-level's physical firewall.

So, when it was child's play to break in to the E4200, he was unsurprised. After all...

No firmware updates for three years.

Front-facing...

Not connected to Snort.

No matter how much you slather on top of it, you were bound to be found if your foundation wobbled.

He scoffs at her tone - she sounds so unbothered, careless. What kind of hacker exposes their vocal biometrics so freely? When he next speaks, his voice is measured calm — "We take data breaches very seriously here at TRICELL." There's a crackling pause as he breathes in an audible sigh, waiting for demands impatiently. This insolence detracts from important work.

♯ [!!!] » Acc░ss ▓rant▒d~:

"Listen—"

There's the barest quirk of her brow from under her hood — a momentary flex, involuntary, mixed with amusement and something else. Challenge perhaps. Or thrill — that familiar, stupid, addictive jolt up her spine she always got when she danced on the precipice of poking the proverbial bear and waiting to see if it would bite.

Of course, it helped that she was on one end of the wire, audio distorted, mask pulled over her nose, and traffic heavily encrypted with assumedly miles of space in between her and one on the other end.

"— it's not my fault your techs missed one firewall on their latest patch cycle. I just so happened to be in the digital neighborhood to notice."

A beat. Considering. Debating how far to push.

"But hey — that's really not bad compared to other corporate monoliths of similar size, ya know. So, don't beat them up too badly. I'm sure they just need to…” a hand raises, waves around flippantly, “… update their network documentation. Or something."

Sen7inel reclined back in her worn computer chair, sprawling lazily, her oversized hoodie a shrug from falling off one shoulder, and twirled a freshly rolled join between her fingers.

"Oh — before you worry — don't. I locked the door on my way out, free of charge — you're welcome, by the way. Not a lot going on there, seemed like a dead end. Really didn't even expect you to find my calling card, let alone that quickly."

What she didn't mention was that they would have to pay the price for the ridiculously long admin password she’d changed on the firewall to unlock that door — or hard reset it to regain access. Either way, it was a small price to pay for poor cybersec hygiene, and she'd maintain a foothold on the network to keep snooping around in the meantime.

@progenitorensis

[alanxwake-blog]

"Stop moving."

Alan hisses, teeth grinding and jaw clenching. "I would... if you -" He grumbles before hissing and cringing, "if you'd stop being so harsh!" He snarls, he could swear she was intentionally only making things worse for him...

[agentharrisonofshield-a]

☆ :What made you start playing your muse?

☆ : What made you start playing your muse?

// Gather 'round now, kiddies, and let me tell once again the story of Vivian's origins (it's been a long time since I have).  

So, almost two years ago now, I lost my job.  It was the latest in a series of jobs I felt didn't provide adequate intellectual stimulation for me, and yet were the only jobs I was qualified for.  Regardless of how I felt about the job, losing it sent me into a severe depressive episode.  I spent about an entire month in a half-asleep state on the couch, because being asleep or dreaming/living inside my own head was better than living in reality.  At some point in there my then-boyfriend's movie-viewing habits must have filtered through, because my maladaptive daydreams turned into something more akin to writing fanfiction.  In my head.  While half-asleep.  It was not the healthiest of mental states to be in, but still, writing (in my head) fanfiction with a blatant self-insert turned into me waking up enough to jot down a few lines here and there, turned into me spending entire days awake instead of in a stupor.  (There was a manic episode involved, as well as some major life-changing decisions and a move halfway across the country; we won't go into that.)

The end result was I eventually started writing entire scenes of a fanfiction with a non-self-insert protagonist who was just a normal young woman in this world of superheroes and alien gods and everything that makes the MCU marvelous (pun entirely intended).  At some point in my search for inspiration on tumblr I stumbled across the Marvel RPing community, and stalked a good dozen blogs or so for several months.  Eventually I sat down with Vivian, who by then had started evolving into a personality - a character - in her own right, made some very deliberate changes to her, and threw her out there.  She's evolved even more into her own person since then; there's little of the character I first started writing except those parts I deliberately decided to keep - her diagnoses, her geekiness (for ease of writing, in both cases), and our shared lack of secondary education (because along with protagonists with non-glamorized mental illness, white middle-class intelligent protagonists who don't fit the "12 years of school then college" mold are severely lacking, and I'd like some representation on that front, too).  

That's Vivian's story.  She's born out of severe mental illness and a desperate desire for representation - representation of a non-powered, 'normal', mediocre character in a universe with superheroes, and honest, accurate, non-glamorized representation of a host of mental illnesses that cannot be solved or cured, only coped with.  

All in all, deciding to take Vivian from the secrecy of my own fanfic to the public arena of roleplaying may have been one of the best decisions I ever made.  I've met some fantastic people (and one or two not-so-fantastic ones) and the amount of support I've gotten, both for my muse as a character and for me as a person has been astounding.