#its a clandestine operation

[gandalfsbignaturals]

stealthily sniffing my butch boyfriends pits while were cuddling to microdose on boysmell

[drconstellation]

The Ineffable Ducks

What's with all the ducks in Good Omens that Crowley seems to be inordinately fond of? Turns out, they do have a narrative purpose, they're not just in there as a running joke about Crowley's fondness for the animals of Earth.

They appear in both S1 and S2, and get mentioned in several seemingly random places. Like, really random. There are quite a few in St James Park, where the ducks live, where the international spies also clandestinely meet, where Aziraphale and Crowley meet on several occasions, and where Crowley and Shax have a meeting, exchanging information in S2E1.

Ducks also get referred to here, when Aziraphale suggests they use humans to search and spy out the missing Antichrist, but Crowley insists it will be near impossible because suspicion slides off the boy like water off, what ever water slides off, because he has an automatic defense system.

The he remembers the ducks(!) later in the Bentley when they discuss using their respective networks of highly trained human operatives (Shadwell and the Witchfinder army), and Aziraphale asks if Crowley has a better idea than his. "Ducks!" Crowley suddenly utters.

The ducks that are always there, that you see but don't see, gathering bread crumbs, when any kind of surveillance or secret spy work is being discussed.

Nah, I thought, it couldn't be a sly ref to this famous cartoon by Larson, could it?

Aziraphale and Crowley are always afraid that someone is watching, or listening to everything they do, from both sides. I mean isn't that partly why we got the ending we did in S2, because they have had to be so covert with their communication to each over the centuries they've forgotten how to speak plainly to each other?

Heaven has definitely been watching...

And Hell certainly noticed Crowley's act of kindness in the Edinburgh cemetery, swiftly summoning him to Hell for punishment after his kind deed on behalf of Elspeth.

Then when the duo meet in again 1867 Crowley wonders if "ducks have ears" before declaring they must do - that's how they hear other ducks. So its no surprise that when Crowley asks Aziraphale for holy water that he writes the request on a piece of paper to hide it from those invisible ever-present watchers they know are never far away.

When we come to the start of S2, where Crowley is slouched in St James Park once more, reading the Tadfield Advertiser, and yelling at the Azerbaijani secret agents for feeding the ducks bread. Crumbs, it was alright to do this in the book, and S1, why is wrong now? Has Crowley suddenly become woke and caring for the ducks? Nah.

There's a lot more to it than that. I realized this is the missing Grain offering from my post about altar offerings (see The Altar of Eccles Cakes) in S2. A Grain offering represents a voluntary expression of devotion to God - or the other side you're supposed to be aligned with, in this case.

Shax is part of this scene, discussing the latest news from below, and she mentions some special intel that Hell has received, from their own secret squirrel network. Of course they would meet in St James Park to discuss this, along with all the other spies. While Shax tries to get some intel out of Crowley about what might be going on in Heaven, because she knows he has contact with a certain angel who owns a book shop, Crowley responds by refusing to show any devotion to his former side at this point, and isn't going to give any information away that could be useful. He also doesn't have any intel at this point, anyway, but he's not going to give that away either! Heaven and Hell are toxic, and no one should be going anywhere near them, in his opinion. So stop feeding them that devotional bread!

After Shax asks what they should be feeding the ducks, he eventually says "Frozen Peas. It's good for them, they like it."

The short period of "peas" since they stopped the impending Apocalypse has been enjoyable, and good for Crowley and Aziraphale, but the forced meeting with Beelzebub later that day soon jolts Crowley out of any complacency when they indicate that the "generalized understanding" Crowley thought they had with Heaven and Hell after the body swap to leave them alone, the one Aziraphale-as-Crowley negotiated, while asking for a rubber duck, no less, was looking very shaky and fragile indeed.

And one more random duck ref to discuss.

I was inspired to write this section by lalalunamoth's post calling Muriel a duckling imprinted on Crowley, and of course I did not save it, did I, and a search does not bring it back up again (found it!), so if you're reading this, or know that post, please let me know! I read it, and thought, cute, but nah, then realized that Muriel was sent on a surveillance mission to Whickber St to ascertain the truth of Aziraphale's 25 lazurii miracle. And she did act as the eyes of Heaven, writing up some reports, called Crowley "grice," then followed him around during his escapade in Heaven just like a duckling following a grumpy gander drake while he did his own surveillance measures in a Tactical Turtle neck, channeling his best imitation Sean Connery voice (have you noticed that as well, people?)

No, no, the op wasn't wrong - those big cross ducks, er grice geese, they make good guard dogs, no?

With special mention to Crowley acting as a surveillance duck just prior to this, and Mr Brown doing his own "spying out" of Aziraphale.

To finish this meta, there is one other figure who notably offered the ducks bread, in the book. This passage, which is surely relevant to S3, but didn't appear in S1, shows another character still devoted to God in a way. Lets give Death the final word:

Crowley: "Maybe it's it's all part of a great ineffable plan. All of it. You, me, him, everything. Some great big test to see if what you've built all works properly, eh? You start thinking: it can't be a great cosmic game of chess, it has to be just very complicated Solitaire. And don't bother to answer. if we could understand, we wouldn't be us. Because it's all - all - "

INEFFABLE, said the figure feeding the ducks.

"Yeah. Right. Thanks."

[apas-95]

I have unfortunately developed the most insane DB Cooper theory that I haven't seen floated anywhere else.

Take the following single piece of information and go insane: a couple years before the DB Cooper case, the CIA started carrying out tests to see how effectively a person could parachute out of a 727.

They wanted to know whether it was feasible to use the 727, which was uniquely capable because of its rear airstairs and engine configuration, to clandestinely parachute agents into enemy states, since it was a commercial airliner. Cooper knew about local airbases in Seattle, knew what settings to put the 727 into in order to keep steady flight with the airstairs open, and, when the airline during negotiations said it would be dangerous to take off with the airstairs open, he factually stated 'it can be done, do it', something that was only ever proven by previous flight testing. After taking off with the airstairs closed, he displayed knowledge that was not only secret to the public, but to airline crews too; that the airstairs could be opened inflight with an override button near the door. Even the FBI speculated that he might somehow have known about the CIA's operations using it in Vietnam.

Anyway, mysterious guy with a suit and tie who went to extreme lengths to remove evidence, who never actually provably had any weapons at all, who was never discovered by the nations largest manhunt in history. Weird that his stuff was tied up with his nation's intelligence agency lmao.

[n7cloacadestroyer]

"ACAB applies to Garrus"

I've heard this independently 3-4 times over the past week, and it strikes me as such an odd thing to say. Not because it isn't true--we know Garrus wasn't above working a suspect over if he thought it would make them talk. Like, he wasn't just a cop, he was kind of a dirty one. Not in the same way as someone like Harkin, but definitely in the "you better hope his hunch doesn't lead him to you or you're getting beaten with a rubber hose until you tell him what he wants to hear" kind of way. Which is arguably just as bad, if not worse.

No, the reason it's such an odd thing to say is that ACAB honestly applies to about half of the characters in the visible universe of Mass Effect. It's a very "save us, military industrial complex," sort of narrative in many respects--up to and including the part where all the politicians and diplomats basically have "beta cuck," or "dick dastardly's understudy," tattooed on their forehead with very few exceptions.

That's just something you have to accept if you want to enjoy the series. It's a star war, not an insightful commentary on power structures and the abuse of the people therein.

If you want to evaluate it as one, then there are quite a few bigger fish in this particular pond. The Citadel Council alone is one of the most abusable legislative mechanisms conceivable, and admission to their ranks is predicated solely on approval by the current Council. The council whose individual votes would be weakened by adding another member. Not to mention that the idea of an individual speaking for their entire species is bananas on its face.

And not to put too fine a point on it, but Shepard is a fed. Like, a "clandestine intervention and special operations" kind of fed. ACAB absolutely applies to them too.

The Point™: The Mass Effect universe was created solely to facilitate a role playing game in which the player had more narrative freedom than was typical of AAA titles at the time. If you apply any degree of knowledge regarding sociology or political science, the thing falls apart faster than the M-44 Hammerhead. Basically anybody who has spent more than five minutes thinking about it could tell you that. Anybody can also tell you that if the game mirrored an effective and equitable political process, there probably wouldn't be much call to splatter some faceless space pirate against a wall with your dark energy mind powers. If you want to be all cinemasins about it, that's your call, but I don't think you would make a very good action game going about it that way.

I'm not trying to say that you're wrong if you don't like Garrus. It's a matter of opinion, first and foremost. There are valid reasons to dislike him. Like his elevator conversations, for example. But it's more than a little disingenuous to pretend he is uniquely or egregiously problematic in his abuse of power while we control Commander Shepard--the literal avatar of abusing their power with little to no consequences.

[starqueensthings]

“It is a clandestine operation. There are no records of its location or its purpose. All I could find on it was the chief scientist in charge: Dr. Royce Hemlock, an officer expelled from the Republic Science Corps due to his unauthorized and unorthodox experiments … but it gets worse. Previous records recovered from the ship’s log, list other clone troopers detained by the Advanced Science Division … and Crosshair is one of them.”

[uss-edsall]

I love ArmA III's campaign, because you are not special forces.

You aren't, even, technically an infantryman.

You are treated accordingly.

The result of it is a remarkable criticism in its own right of the worldwide fascination with Special Forces, and the morally grey-to-black work they swim in; viewed from the perspective of someone who isn't one of them.

Spoilers below.

ArmA III's campaign is very similar in premise to literally every previous entry. It goes back to its roots.

Preamble

In Operation Flashpoint, a rogue communist general destroys American force presence on an island, and you fight to liberate said island. In Armed Assault, the communist leader of the northern nation on an island attacks its neighbor just as American forces are withdrawing from the country. You play those American forces, fighting alongside the monarchist neighbor. In ArmA II, you play American marine special forces who perform pre-invasion operations in a Not-Eastern Europe Country, then support the marine invasion -- and then have to go to ground and fight alongside the rebels you were previously fighting when the US abruptly withdraws.

ArmA III starts out similar to Armed Assault. You are Corporal Kerry, an American logistics (truck) driver for Task Force Aegis, a multinational peacekeeping force formed by NATO, in the aftermath of a civil war in the Republic of Altis and Stratis. The campaign, set in 2035 (which was 23 years away at the game's release), is all centred around a time of a superpower being created through mass alliances.

The enemy is CSAT (Canton Protocol Strategic Alliance Treaty), a superpower created through a mass alliance of nations like China and Iran. They are surging in power as American and NATO supremacy/hegemony declines.

The Republic of Altis and Stratis is the victim of Great Power Proxy Wars. In 2026, a dictator named Colonel Akhanteros seized power, sparking a civil war between the former regime's loyalists and the country's military, the Altis Armed Forces (AAF) under Akhanteros' command. From 2026-2030, the Altian Civil War devastated the nation, ending in Akhanteros' victory. TF Aegis has been in the nation ever since, trying to prevent civil war from breaking out again and largely opposing former-Loyalist fighters. TF Aegis is preparing to leave in 2035.

Just days before Task Force Aegis finishes its withdrawal and leaves for good, the AAF - previously denigrated and constantly insulted by the Aegis members who had been training them to take over once they left - suddenly attack, overwhelming the few remaining Aegis members, and devastates the NATO force. Why they did this is not made immediately clear.

You, Corporal Kerry, are one of the few survivors.

Chapter One

In the first 'chapter,' of the campaign, during the destruction of TF Aegis you make contact with a British special forces guy named Miller, leading something called the CTRG (Combat Technology Research Group). They openly admit to be Special Forces, claiming to be British special forces in particular and performing clandestine operations in the country. They seemingly chose to throw away their secrecy to save the few members of Aegis they could. Less than a handful of your allies remain, rescued from certain death and brought to the CTRG basecamp.

During this time, Kerry, Aegis, and the CTRG fight a war of resistance against the AAF, securing various objectives and attempting to strike back, certain that NATO will send a quick reaction force to retaliate and rescue you. In one notable mission, you provide support to the special forces as they try to take back a communications outpost to call for help from NATO. The CTRG abruptly declare that all the tech in there's useless, they're blowing the place up, and you withdraw.

During the chapter, the CTRG members, even their charismatic second-in-command James that's immediately likable, make it clear very quickly that they're not telling the peacekeeper survivors their real mission objectives, nor what exactly are they doing there. This makes your Aegis allies uneasy on their presence. You, Corporal Kerry, are left in the dark for a lot of things, but James makes you want to like him. The fact they're Special Forces make you want to trust them.

Corporal Kerry, who by then has already pulled off some frankly impossible tasks to ask of a logistics truck driver before these events, doesn't much like this:

Kerry: Respectfully, sir, when the hell are you going to tell us what's going on? Miller: Saying 'respectfully', Corporal, and proceeding to be disrespectful somewhat defeats the purpose, don't you think? ... Look, I can't say exactly what happened. What I can say is what's happening right now. We're headed to Altis. There's a local guerilla movement there - FIA - the same guys that got themselves killed for us back on Stratis. We'll make a quiet entrance and link up with them.

The first chapter ends with you trying to escape Altis to reach the island of Stratis. The AAF finds you all and proceed to obliterate you and your allies with extreme prejudice.

Chapter Two

The second chapter begins with you waking up from having been knocked unconscious, washing ashore next to the body of a CTRG member.

You are the only survivor of Task Force Aegis.

The CTRG makes contact with the loyalist resistance remnant -- and it is revealed that the CTRG have worked with the resistance before. During the civil war, the CTRG were secretly supporting the loyalists; the same insurgents the protagonist was fighting for the past couple years before the AAF turned on them. Captain Miller and Lieutenant James are surprised as hell that you, Kerry, are alive. Pleasantly surprised, though. They proceed to order you to do another impossible task.

During this chapter it is revealed that CSAT is now backing the AAF. Moreover than that, CSAT has deployed troops to the island, not as peacekeepers but as reinforcements. The CTRG remains shady, and continues to leave Kerry in the dark. One mission begins with you supporting the CTRG and the guerillas in a convoy ambush, but abruptly, you end up in charge. The CTRG have some other pressing objective they won't tell you about, and they leave you behind.

You aren't special forces. They don't trust you.

Kerry: But - with respect - what about the convoy? Are we still on for that? James: You ask a lot of questions, Corporal. Don't worry. Miller will be in touch soon. You'll know what to do.

While Kerry's relationship with the guerillas starts out rocky, by the end of this chapter they trust him implicitly. He has fought beside them, bled beside them, they are brothers in arms.

At the end of the second chapter, you return to Altis, having wreaked havoc on Stratis and been reinforced by the guerillas. Causing great damage, it feels like you're making an effective push against AAF forces.

Then NATO arrives.

This should be happy, for NATO is finally here to save the day, except the first thing NATO does is open fire on the guerilla forces, killing Stavrou, the leader of the group. Kerry tries to call on the CTRG, begging for their help in stopping this - the CTRG do not respond. In the end, it's up to Kerry to make contact and stop the slaughter.

Except when you meet the NATO commander...

Kerry: What about Captain Miller, sir? He was supposed to establish [communications] with your main force. Crossroads: I'm sorry, who? Kerry: Captain Scott Miller. UKSF? Kinda ... talks like he's got a stick up his ass all the time? Crossroads: The British? The Brits are no longer operating in this area. To my knowledge, they've been out since May. And, regardless, we have no record of a Captain Scott Miller.

Chapter Three

The third chapter begins with Corporal Kerry disgraced.

Soldier 1: Yeah, that's him. The 'guerrilla' guy. Soldier 2: He's been hiding on Altis this whole time?

Kerry is all but accused directly of desertion. Some of the American soldiers even suspect Kerry was part of the massacre of TF Aegis. After all, he's alive and literally nobody else is - and he's claiming to have survived because of some special forces of a nation that hasn't had forces on the island in months.

However, all are needed to report for duty:

Armstrong: And - while we're on the subject, Corporal - were it up to me, you'd be stuck here spit-shining latrines until a court-martial deemed you fit for duty. Lucky for you, command doesn't feel likewise. But make no mistake, you fuck up just once - you endanger any of my men - and you're gone.

Not that 'all hands on deck' means you're facing great responsibility, not initially. You're guarding a slum. That is until CSAT attacks, and kills every member of the squad you were in while you were reporting incoming fast boats. You and the remnants of another unit are rescued by the guerrillas you'd previously fought beside. The guerrillas will only fight with you as their liaison, and so you're back in action. What follows is fairly typical war combat whatever as the American forces push back against the AAF and their CSAT support. As you secure an airport however, an earthquake shocks the island, albeit briefly. In the next following missions, earthquakes repeatedly shake the island.

After some more battles - during which you periodically fight with the guerrillas or other American troops - Kerry is informed that the investigation into his conduct in the "Stratis Incident" has finished. He is cleared of any wrongdoing.

The commander still cautions Kerry not to get involved with the "Brits and their black ops bullshit".

During the second to last mission of the third chapter, Kerry suddenly gets a transmission.

It's Lieutenant James, the second-in-command of the CTRG, and he's dying. He broadcasts his coordinates. You have two options.

Keep Kerry's nose out of the Brits and their black ops bullshit.

Respond and see ce quoi the fuck is up.

Endings

Option One

Kerry disregards the message and returns to NATO forces. Obviously you're not the only one who heard it. Your commander compliments you, and assured of your reliability, offers the opportunity to be a major component of the coming battle.

AAF forces are defeated. CSAT withdraws with little to zero fanfare. The AAF and Colonel Akhanteros give their formal surrender, ending the conflict.

Congratulations, Kerry.

This is the canonical route, as DLC and other scenarios depend on this to have gone this route.

Option Two

You've been advised by your new commander to keep your damn nose out of those Brits and their spec-ops bullshit, but, damnit -- the CTRG saved your life! James is your friend, he needs help, he's dying! Sure they're shady and Kerry was never trusted with any info on what they were doing - but…!

Kerry chooses to respond to the distress call. One last angry transmission from your commander ends when Kerry turns off his radio.

From this point on NATO forces will shoot you - you're considered renegade, a deserter.

Kerry finds James. James and his squad of CTRG troops were ambushed by CSAT special forces and destroyed. With his dying breath James requests you deliver a truck loaded with something called the Eastwind Device on it. You have to defeat the remaining CSAT troops, but once you get it, you deliver it to Captain Miller.

Kerry is at the end of his rope. He has come to dislike Miller greatly - but he has still done the bidding of the CTRG like a good puppy desperate for his master's affection.

The video below shows this cutscene in verbatim.

Nonetheless I will write it out, as it provides more context. Kerry drops off the Eastwind Device and approach Captain Miller. Kerry is beginning to connect the dots. This Eastwind Device is what this has all been about! The CTRG did not support the loyalists because their cause was one to believe in. They did not rescue TF Aegis out of the goodness of their hearts. In fact, it's likely the fact they're here at all is the entire reason why this war broke out, as the AAF invasion began within hours of the CTRG arrival.

They used you and your forces as disposable pawns, expending you in different actions to provide themselves opportunities to get at the Eastwind Device. The communications station? It was perfectly fine - the CTRG blew it up to delay NATO's counter-attack so the Eastwind Device remained where it was. Stavrou and the guerillas being blown up by NATO? CTRG passed on faulty information so they could tie up a loose end by getting him killed. NATO forces getting devastated in a major assault against what was supposed to be a lightly armed garrison, but turned out to be the single hardest strongpoint on the island? CTRG passed on faulty info so that CSAT wouldn't evacuate quite so fast.

Kerry's angry as hell, yelling at Miller. As this is happening, CSAT launches a massive assault against the island. Miller, saying "I like you," says that he has to go - but he promises he'll be back in an hour if you stay here.

As the credits begin rolling, over the radio you hear every single American unit you've fought with report that they are being overwhelmed, ending with your commander's broadcast before he too is killed.

CSAT, in trying to get their superweapon back, obliterates an American division. Ergo, in giving the CTRG the Eastwind Device, you just started World War Three.

There's a follow-on mission.

Whereas the previous mission ended in broad daylight, this one begins at 4 AM. CTRG didn't come back. All out war has broken loose and combat rages all over the island. Kerry desperately calls for Miller again. Like a good dog, he's been waiting for evac.

Miller: Kerry? Look, the situation has changed. It's too late. With what we're dealing with here, I simply can't take the risk. I can't return to the warzone. I'm sorry, you're on your own. Kerry: What?! Are you fucking kidding me?! Fuck you, Miller! I risked my ass, saved your life, all for what? A fucking suicide mission?! Miller! Respond! Just what the hell was this all about?! Falcon! Goddamnit, do you read me?! Son of a bitch!

They have abandoned you to die. Miller never intended to return at all.

You? Kerry? The lucky truck driver who always came back from impossible mission after impossible mission? A useful pawn. A gullible idiot. Miller has sabotaged you and yours, used you, TF Aegis, the FIA rebels, all as cannon fodder and distractions for his real objective. Every time you survived another impossible mission he goes, "huh, neat," and sends you out on a new one. Never once allowing you in to the privileged group of CTRG special forces because, even though you're pulling off heroic feats you aren't special forces. They never trusted you. They never were ever going to trust you.

You must find any way to get off the island, and in a remarkable show of giving the player free agency, you can have any escape route. Find a boat and escape on it. Literally just swim for twenty minutes straight. Steal a helicopter. Committing suicide is an option, even. You can also find a couple surviving guerillas and a scant few surviving NATO troops who can join you. Regardless, that's where the main campaign ends on this non-canon route.

Conclusion

The ArmA III campaign focuses on something very rare, both for 2013 when it came out and even still today:

The regular trooper, and what it means to be the outsider looking in on the Special Forces.

In the non-canon ending, the ruthless CTRG operators used Kerry until there was nothing left, and then dangled him out on a dying vine. You aren't SOF.

TF Aegis was a victim of the great power proxy war. Having learned that the CTRG team was after the Eastwind Device, CSAT forced Akhanteros to order the AAF to obliterate TF Aegis, hoping to catch Miller and his team with them. Their lifeline to call for help was destroyed by the CTRG team, to buy time to get at the eastwind device. In so doing they ensured the eventual total annihilation of the TF Aegis survivors.

The FIA rebels were victims of the great power proxy war. Their past connections from previous black-ops before the civil war ended were cruelly pulled to support CTRG in objectives that weren't related to their liberation. Then, when it was clear their existence would only help speed up the AAF destruction and accelerate when the Eastwind Device left the island, they got the rebel commanders killed in a friendly fire incident.

The American troops in the NATO counter-attack were victims of the great power proxy war. In order to get more time to get at the Eastwind Device, CTRG passed along faulty intel that got dozens of them killed in an assault against an AAF strongpoint. In the non-canon route, the entire division form the first casualties of World War Three.

Colonel Akhanteros and the AAF were victims of the great power proxy war no matter what. Forced to attack TF Aegis and invite the unholy wrath of a superpower alliance in return, it ends with their complete destruction and formal surrender. In the non-canon route, they are as good as defeated before CSAT utterly crushes the NATO attack, but it devastates the island in the process. In the canon route, they've been left to hang by CSAT, which withdraws once the Eastwind Device is secure. Even without all that, Altis and Stratis has been the testing ground for an earthquake creating superweapon, used as a pawn by CSAT on the global stage.

Everyone was disposable in the name of the great power proxy war.

You, Corporal Kerry, were disposable.

[blackbird5154]

Here is another part of the Meliora lore from Tobias:

In an online teaser video for Meliora, we see an older, Margaret Thatcher-esque white woman berating a group of unseen individuals we assume to be the Ghouls. She expresses her disappointment that Ghost has founded no unholy churches, toppled no governments, nor converted any world leaders to "the cause." She announces that Papa Emeritus II, the decrepit Skeletor who lent his creamy pipes to both Infestissumam and If You Have Ghost, has been dismissed. She then proceeds to introduce Papa Emeritus III, who happens to be the younger brother - by a "full three months" - of Papa II. This woman is a representative of the Clergy, the powerful clandestine cabal that operates Ghost, CIA-style, as just one of many tendrils of a Satanic conspiracy to… what, exactly? "The Clergy is the organism that hovers above - or is it below? - what we're doing," Forge confirmed in a 2015 interview with Decibel magazine. "They make sure the message is being communicated right. For lack of a better phrase, they tell us what to do. But as far as I know, we are just one part of that movement. They have different projects they use to spread the message that the Earth is not flat, which I think is probably the essence. They're sort of the Anti-Flat Earth Society." With the Clergy's true purpose demystified, we felt compelled to ask about the seemingly endless procession of Papas and its general effect on the Ghouls' artistic morale. "We are in many ways the employees of a company where you have a CEO that is every now and then being changed," Forge told us in 2015. "There is, as you say, a string of people coming through and acting as the face of the company. And yes, even this new one seems to be a little bit of a butthole. But we don't know him very well yet. Maybe he'll turn out to be a little bit better. He's obviously a close relative to Papa II, and they both seem to be of sort of the same material. We're just wondering who's the daddy here, you know? If the offspring is that, maybe there's an even worse fish in the sea. But we accept that we are the fluffers in this scenario." The porno business is a good analogy, actually: Every couple of years, Papa is replaced by a younger, better-looking, more agile version of himself. As for this three-months-younger brother routine, the scenario appears to be less supernatural hoodoo and more nontraditional family. "You have to think outside the box a little and imagine that there's one daddy and two mamas," Forge revealed. "Which probably says a lot more about the daddy. I'm sure we'll find out in a few years."

/ "Lucifer Rising", Revolver, 2022

[nayziiz]

Shadows | LN4

Summary: [Mafia] In the face of dire financial troubles, Lando receives a desperate plea from his father to unearth a lucrative solution within the family business. Fueled by the pressure to rescue his family from ruin, Lando stumbles upon a seemingly perfect venture—using luxury cars as a facade for the clandestine world of drug trafficking. With the unexpected partnership of Amelia Rossi, his father's best friend's daughter, Lando believes he has found the ideal accomplice. However, as the Norris family collides with the ambitious Russells in a ruthless bid to establish their dominance, the perilous path Lando has chosen places not only his newfound enterprise at stake but also entangles Amelia in the dangerous crossfire that unfolds.

Warning: Violence, drugs, blood, smut, fluff, guns

Pairing: Lando Norris x OC (Amelia Rossi) - appearances from other drivers

Masterlist

Chapter 3

From an early age, Amelia had grown accustomed to the protective cocoon created by her father's men, a presence that had surrounded her throughout her childhood. However, as she reached her twenty-first birthday, her desire for independence clashed with her father's protective instincts. In an attempt to break free from the stifling security, she insisted on enjoying her celebration without the constant surveillance. Unbeknownst to her, this decision would lead to unforeseen consequences.

During her birthday celebration, things took a sinister turn as gunmen entered the club, and her father's men had to intervene, ruining what was supposed to be a joyous occasion. This incident left a bitter taste in Amelia's mouth, prompting her to assert her independence even more vehemently. She demanded space to live her life without constant interference, blissfully unaware that this newfound freedom would come at a high cost.

As Amelia and Lando ventured into their risky business collaboration, the exportation of luxury vehicles from her showroom became a subject of scrutiny, especially for keen observers like the Russells. The patriarch of the Russell family, a fervent antique vehicle collector, had an extensive knowledge of cars in the London area. Their family operated like vigilant police dogs, adept at sniffing out anything suspicious and often open to being persuaded into silence through bribes.

The shift in Amelia's business activities did not go unnoticed, and the Russells were the first to raise an eyebrow. They were astute and methodical, always keeping a watchful eye on the activities within their realm of interest. The luxury vehicles, once displayed as previously owned gems in Amelia's showroom, now caught their attention, setting off alarm bells in the meticulous mind of the patriarch.

The Russells' modus operandi involved uncovering anything unusual and then leveraging that information to their advantage. In this case, they sensed an opportunity to exploit the situation, fully aware that Amelia's sudden shift in business practices could be used to their benefit. Their penchant for detecting irregularities made them formidable adversaries, skilled at navigating the intricate underworld of deals and secrets.

Adding to the complexity of the situation was George, the Russells’ son, a figure from their high school days whose unsettling crush on Amelia cast a lingering discomfort over their interactions. Despite his older age, George had consistently hovered around Lando and Amelia's social circle during their school years. His presence, coupled with his family’s reputation, added an element of personal tension to the already precarious business dealings.

As George Russell strode into the showroom, his imposing presence seemed to fill the space with an air of tension and unease. His eyes scanned the rows of luxury vehicles with a predatory gleam, his gaze lingering on each car as if assessing its worth.

Amelia's heart sank as she watched George move through the showroom, his every step sending a ripple of apprehension through her. She knew that his interest in the vehicles was more than just casual curiosity; it was a calculated move, designed to probe for weaknesses and exploit any vulnerabilities he might find.

Summoning all her courage, Amelia made her way down to where George was. As George inspected the vehicles on display, his attention was immediately drawn to a sleek and aerodynamic Aston Martin DBS Superleggera. Its polished silver exterior gleamed under the showroom lights, exuding an air of sophistication and power. She forced a smile onto her face, hoping to conceal the unease that churned in the pit of her stomach.

“George, it's been a while.” She greeted him, her voice strained with forced cheerfulness. George turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

“Amelia.” He replied, his tone cool and measured.

As they stood face to face, the tension between them was palpable, a silent undercurrent that threatened to pull them under. George's presence was a reminder of a past that Amelia would rather forget, a time when his unwelcome advances made her skin crawl with discomfort.

But now, faced with the reality of George's scrutiny, Amelia knew that she couldn't afford to let her personal feelings cloud her judgement. She forced herself to focus on the task at hand, determined to navigate this encounter with as much grace and composure as she could muster.

“So, what brings you to the showroom today?” She asked, her voice carefully neutral. George's lips curled into a sly smile.

“Oh, just thought I'd stop by and see what treasures you have hidden away here. I had my heart set on a Mercedes.” He replied, his tone tinged with a hint of mockery.

Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her at George's response, though his tone still sent a shiver down her spine.

“Well, we have some exquisite Mercedes models as well. Let me show you.” She replied, forcing a smile to hide her growing discomfort.

Leading George away from the Aston Martin DBS Superleggera, Amelia guided him towards a row of Mercedes-Benz vehicles, each one a testament to German engineering and luxury craftsmanship. As they approached a gleaming Mercedes-AMG GT R, its vibrant red paint catching the light, Amelia couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction. The GT R was a performance powerhouse, with a handcrafted V8 engine and precision-tuned handling that promised an exhilarating driving experience.

“This is our newest addition.” Amelia said, gesturing towards the Mercedes-AMG GT R. “It's a masterpiece of engineering, with unparalleled performance and luxury.”

George's eyes lit up with interest as he examined the car, his earlier air of mockery replaced by genuine intrigue.

“Impressive.” He admitted, running a hand along the smooth lines of the bodywork. “I must say, you have quite the selection here.”

“Thank you. We take pride in offering only the finest vehicles to our clients.” Amelia nodded, her smile growing more genuine.

As George continued to inspect the Mercedes-AMG GT R, Amelia couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his visit than just a casual interest in luxury cars. She knew that she would need to tread carefully if she hoped to navigate this encounter without revealing too much about their illicit business dealings.

“And, how would I go about getting one of these to my property in Dubai?” George wondered, his eyes glancing up to study Amelia.

Amelia's heart skipped a beat at George's question, knowing that transporting a luxury vehicle like the Mercedes-AMG GT R to Dubai would require careful planning and discretion.

“We have reputable shipping partners who specialise in transporting vehicles internationally. They handle all the logistics and ensure that your car arrives safely and discreetly at your property in Dubai.” She paused for a moment, gauging George's reaction before continuing. “Of course, we understand the importance of privacy and confidentiality in these matters. Our shipping partners operate with the utmost discretion, ensuring that your purchase remains confidential every step of the way.”

Amelia's words were carefully chosen, designed to reassure George while subtly reminding him of the need for secrecy. She knew that their business dealings could not afford any unnecessary attention, especially from someone as astute and perceptive as George Russell. George nodded thoughtfully, seemingly satisfied with her response.

“Excellent.” He said, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. “I'll need to consider my options.”

He suddenly stood upright and watched her intently as he circled around the car back to her.

“If I'm being honest, Amelia. I'm not really here for a car.” He admitted.

Amelia's heart skipped a beat as George's words hung heavy in the air, her instincts screaming at her to tread carefully. She maintained her composure, though her mind raced with apprehension as she met George's intense gaze.

“Oh?” She replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning within her. “Then what brings you to the showroom, George?”

George's lips curled into a sly smile, a predatory gleam dancing in his eyes.

“I've heard whispers, Amelia. Whispers of a different kind of treasure hidden away here.” He said, his voice low and conspiratorial.

Amelia's pulse quickened at his words, her mind racing to comprehend the implications of his revelation. She knew that their secret dealings had drawn attention from all corners, but to have George standing before her, openly acknowledging their illicit activities, sent a chill down her spine.

She forced herself to maintain her composure, though her nerves threatened to betray her. 

“I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.” She replied, her voice tinged with a hint of unease. George chuckled softly, his gaze never wavering from hers.

“Oh, I think you do, Amelia. And I must say, I'm intrigued, especially with little Lando Norris involved.” He said, his tone dripping with menace.

Amelia's breath caught in her throat at George's ominous words, her heart pounding in her chest as a chill raced down her spine. The mention of Lando's name sent a surge of fear coursing through her veins.

“You should be very careful about the company you keep. Lando’s changed since high school.” He whispered, his eyes glittering with malice as he leaned in closer, his presence suffocating.

“George, I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.” She replied, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to sound confident.

“Just know we are on your trail, Rossi. This won’t end well. Not for you and certainly not for Lando and his family.” George added.

Amelia's heart sank as George's ominous words hung heavy in the air, her mind reeling with the implications of his threat. But George's cold stare bore into her, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. As he turned to leave, leaving her alone in the showroom with her thoughts and the looming threat of his scrutiny, Amelia couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding wash over her. She knew that their encounter with George had  raised the stakes to a whole new level, and that they would need to proceed with caution if they hoped to emerge from the ordeal unscathed.

She slowly made her way back up to her office, shutting the door behind her as she entered her safe space. With trembling hands, Amelia retrieved the burner phone from the depths of her bag, her heart pounding in her chest as she carefully avoided using her own phone for any communication with Lando. There was a possibility her phone had been tapped.

As she stared at the screen of the burner phone, her mind raced with the urgency of the situation. She knew that every moment counted, that they had to act swiftly and decisively if they hoped to stay one step ahead of George and his relentless pursuit of the truth.

With a steadying breath, Amelia began to type out a message to Lando, her fingers flying over the keys in a desperate bid to convey the gravity of their predicament. “Meet me at home after work tonight. Urgent.” She wrote, her words, a silent plea for help in the face of impending danger.

As she hit send, a wave of relief washed over her, knowing that she had taken the first step towards securing their safety. But even as she waited for Lando's response, a sense of unease gnawed at her, reminding her that their troubles were far from over.

As Lando's phone buzzed with the incoming message from Amelia, he felt a surge of apprehension wash over him. The urgency in her words had sent a chill down his spine, and he knew instinctively that something was terribly wrong.

Lando's heart raced as he stepped into the familiar confines of the Rossi estate, his mind swirling with a thousand questions and fears. The urgency of Amelia's message had spurred him into action, driving him to her side without a moment's hesitation. He found her waiting for him in the modest living room. The tension in the air was palpable as he took a seat opposite her, their eyes meeting in silent understanding.

“Amelia.” Lando began, his voice filled with concern. “What's going on? What's so urgent?”

Amelia's expression was grave as she met his gaze, her eyes reflecting the turmoil swirling within her.

“Does the name George Russell ring any bells?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No fucking way.” Lando huffed, already adding up the pieces in his mind.

“He knows, Lando. He knows about our... dealings.” Amelia added.

“How?” Lando asked, his mind racing with possibilities. “How could he possibly know?”

“I don't know.” She admitted.

“Please tell me he didn’t approach you at the showroom.” Lando quipped, worry etched on his face.

“He did. He threatened us, Lando. He threatened you and your family.” Amelia shook her head, her brow furrowed with worry.

Feeling the weight of Amelia's worries pressing down on them both, Lando rose from his seat and moved to sit beside her, his instinct guiding him to offer comfort in the face of uncertainty. With a gentle touch, he pulled her into his embrace, enveloping her in warmth and reassurance.

Amelia leaned into him, seeking solace in the strength of his embrace. The tension that had gripped her began to melt away in the comfort of his arms, replaced by a sense of safety and security that only Lando could provide.

For a moment, they sat in silence, drawing strength from each other's presence as they faced the daunting challenges that lay ahead. In that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them together, united in their determination to overcome whatever obstacles stood in their way.

“We need to be smart about this.” Lando said, his voice steady despite the turmoil raging around them. “We can't let George intimidate us. We need to stay one step ahead of him, no matter what it takes.”

As they held each other close, Lando gently brushed his fingers through Amelia's hair, his touch tender and comforting. He whispered words of encouragement into her ear, his voice a soothing melody that calmed the tumultuous storm raging within her heart.

Feeling the warmth of his breath against her skin, Amelia closed her eyes and let herself be enveloped by his embrace, finding solace in the strength of his arms. His words washed over her like a healing balm, easing the knots of worry and fear that had gripped her. In that moment, she felt a sense of peace wash over her, knowing that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together just like the many other times they had done so previously.

[thegildedbee]

Blanket/Weather: May 17 & 18 Prompts by @calaisreno

Lhasa remains steeped in darkness, even though the stars at the roof of the world are beginning to fade as night closes its eyes. Sherlock carefully weaves in-and-out between the long-haul lorries in the crowded service area, moving towards the one that will clandestinely carry him to its destination in Shigatse, which will place him in the vicinity of a rogue copper mine. This improvised transport strategy allows him to slip surreptitiously from town, thwarting the restriction on international visitors that they be accompanied by guides anywhere they travel within the captive region. Careful to remain undetected, he slips through the back door of the attached freight container; once safely inside, he casts light from a pen-sized torch across the boxes, gauging how to arrange a space to conceal his presence.

The blend of noises outside the truck crowd in on his awareness, amplifying his sensation of confinement – snatches of conversation, mostly in Mandarin, random laughter and occasional shouts, the peremptory staccato of a horn, the groaning metallic scraping of engines downshifting, the crunching of gravel under moving vehicles. He sits down, pressing his back against the side wall, knees bent, his hands and fingers idly flipping and spinning the pen torch. After a few moments he stops, puzzled at feeling pulled off-kilter, unsure as to why. This moment, now, is just one more to get through, as are the moments to come over the next five hours, and then in however many days lie ahead. The waiting, the dark, the placelessness – these are all familiar companions; he’s practiced at tamping down his resentment, and meeting each of them with resignation. He allows his mind to drift, seeking to surface useful data . . . and when it comes, the result suggests an odd source -- the similarity of his physical position to that last day before he disappeared, sitting preoccupied on the floor at Bart’s laboratory, bouncing a small rubber ball, waiting for events to unfold. He rubs at his forehead, and exhales with an irritated huff, frowning, displeased that he’s let the memory intrude.

He disciplines himself to shift focus, to stay in the present, by mentally rehearsing the two major tasks he needs to complete today, barring any unfortunate developments that would require starting over. He’s here to neutralize two confederates of Moriarty's syndicate who work for a multinational energy corporation – the first is an enterprising engineer overseeing the digging of an illegal mining pit, the second an executive at the corporate headquarters in Lhasa, who is diverting impressive amounts of monies to the both of them. (Sherlock has no desire to know the whys of their circumstances – whether, in addition to greed, their actions are due to incentives, or blackmail, or outright threats; all he needs to know is that they’re beholden to the dictates of his enemy's network and any bounties they dangle, and are therefore a potential threat to himself if he returns, and to his friends.)

He arrived in the Tibetan Himalayas three days previous, but he’s had to wait impatiently to implement his objectives, betrayed by his body, waiting to gradually shed the debilitating effects of altitude sickness, in his muscles, his stomach, his lungs. He grudgingly admits to himself that the downtime, however, was probably necessary, allowing him to catch his breath in more ways than just the one that's so currently urgent.

The last fortnight had seen him – as Gabriel Vernet, a director at a French biopharmaceuticals start-up – in an unrelentingly tense journey in which he’d conducted business, fake as well as real, in Singapore, Hanoi, Hong Kong, Macau, and then through Sichuan to Chengdu for the flight to Lhasa. He’s been traveling on papers and an operative legend courtesy of the British government for this leg of his odyssey; while he prefers to chart his own course, unencumbered by the high-handed and condescending auditing of his brother, he had conceded to his better wisdom of seeking aid from London while being shadowed by ever-present governmental representatives of the People’s Republic of China -- as well as floating in and out of view of particularly vicious groups of gangsters operating in Southeast Asia.

His knowledge of Mandarin has been essential in keeping his forward movement going; it helped Vernet to facilitate cooperation from the sources he sought out, high and low. It also allowed him to expand his reconnaissance, especially when those on whom he was eavesdropping assumed that the sharply-dressed businessman within earshot was unable to understand their conversation. As a result, he’s obtained a wide-angle view of activities that he might not have been aware of otherwise, beyond his immediate remit. He’s learned, for example, from ancillary figures, of Chinese mobsters from Fujian, who have been tearing through various states in the U.S., muscling their way into the astonishingly lucrative illicit cannabis market that has accompanied legalization. 

He’d crossed cyber-paths again with the Mexican cartel he’d come across digging through the dark internet in Tallinn – the one funding Nigerian meth labs to supply Asian buyers. Here, it’s reversed: Fujian gangsters are using the cartel to smuggle thousands of Chinese workers into the United States to produce illicit drugs –  trafficked in to do agricultural labor at burgeoning marijuana grow sites. Trapped by fences, surveillance cameras, and guards with guns and machetes, the captive immigrants create tens of billions of dollars alone in states such as Oklahoma – a location that's an attractive target due to the abundance of cheap land, the lack of regulations on the size of cannabis farms, and a scarcity of police personnel with the language capabilities needed to translate communications and infiltrate networks. For what it might be worth, Sherlock had passed along what he’d learned to the CIA’s Crime and Narcotics Center.

He’ll be on a tight schedule in Shigatse today, needing to collect photographic evidence of the illegal mine, and still leave time enough to make it to the railroad station platform, and mingle inconspicuously amongst the groups boarding the local train bound for Lhasa. Once he's settled aboard, he’ll add the pictures to the files of documentary evidence he’s carrying on his mobile, and, as they near the city, he’ll press send and deliver the folder to one of the corporation’s higher-ups who is eager to rise even higher. Once the recipient verifies the information contained in the anonymous gift, he’ll be thrilled to gain credit as the conduit for the revelations it contains to his superiors in Beijing. 

They’ve made good time on the road, and Sherlock stands up and stretches, releasing the kinks in his back, and jogging in place to get his adrenaline running. In his worn camping gear, he’s dressed completely different from Vernet, in his bespoke suits, with his expensive leather briefcase, and the expected Rolex watch. 

The fact that copper mines require supplies of water will lend him the needed cover afforded by yet another identity – there are wetlands in the area, and it is unsurprising that a Canadian wildlife biologist on an international team will be there on foot, surveying the habitat of the black-necked crane. If anyone questions him, he’ll indicate that each of the members of the team have temporarily spread out to cover a greater area. There has been a great deal of anger, within Tibet and worldwide, at the damage done to the plateau’s environment due to China’s resource extraction agenda and its urbanization policies– the protections that the PRC is extending to the vulnerable black-necked crane population have been a public relations plus for them. The birds are currently in the vicinity, completing their breeding cycle, and as long as he can get in and out quickly, Dr. William Scott’s presence is likely to pass with little scrutiny, as long as his papers are in order. 

Several hours later, Sherlock is relieved that his tracking efforts have paid off with actionable evidence – meaning that there will be no need to scramble for a new plan. After verifying that his file has been successfully delivered, he slumps in his seat, stubbornly indifferent to releasing himself from being on high alert. He knows that letting down his guard is when sloppiness can creep in and mistakes made, but having been awake for more than 24 hours and in action all day long at an altitude that still leaves him easily winded, relentlessly reminding him that breathing is problematic, is taking its toll. One last detail – dropping his mobile so that it lands on the train tracks when he exits – and then, in less than an hour, he can be seated in the hotel's oxygen lounge and restore his body and mind.

As they near the station, he shoulders his rucksack, ready to act out the fiction that he’s attached to one of the groups he’s sat nearby, and pulls out his mobile in order to remove the sim card. But when the screen lights up after he turns it over in his hand, he’s startled to find a text message notification -- receiving messages is not supposed to happen, ever, on this unit. No one has the number, save one person. This is not good. This is very much not good.

He takes in and releases several breaths to try and lower his pulse rate, hoping that when he clicks on the icon that he’ll find nothing more dramatic than someone misdirecting their text. At first glance, the message does appear to be irrelevant; at second glance, however, it is evident that the innocuous platitude it contains is negated by the fact that it is written in code.

His anxiety spikes at deciphering the communique: emergency action needed, abandon the hotel -- which means he'll not be returning to the inviting bed, the soft pillows, the warm blanket. There is no indication of why, or of what comes next, other than that he’ll be met at the station by a man who will identify himself as a tour leader from the Council for the Preservation of Sacred Alpine Cranes, and that he is to reply in Mandarin that he was honored to have seen four pairs of the noble birds nesting safely when he inspected the field site.

Other than this terse instruction, he has no idea what he’ll find once he leaves the train, and whether or not he is walking into a trap. And as he gazes out the window at the dark clouds beginning to gather in the east, he sees that the weather may be turning against him as well.

........................................................

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper

@helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra

@solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

.............................................................................

[animentality]

what do you think that would happened if Gortash saw Durge back in the colony, hurt, maimed in a table under Kressa's torture?

He'd try his best to pretend he doesn't really care, but Ketheric needs to release them at once because he has urgent plans that only the Dark Urge could carry out, and they need to have a chance to take back their power from Orin, for the good of the plan, of course, not because of any personal attachment...

And if Ketheric said no, or Balthazar said let it die, it's what it would have wanted, then Gortash would start scheming wildly, going from something as mild as, I'm breaking them out secretly and ferrying them back to Baldur's Gate, to, I'm murdering Ketheric and Orin clandestinely, and I'm taking over this whole operation sooner than I'd planned.

But anon, I.

Anon, I like to imagine...

That he'd pretend he was thinking about the pragmatism of the situation, and its relation to his world domination plan....

But I know, deep down, his gut instincts are screaming at him to save them, and it's not for any practical reason at all, it is pure reflex, and it aches like a muscle spasming, he can't react rationally, because seeing Durge hurt and subdued makes him irrational.

He tries to maintain his composure, but it was already gone, the moment he saw them and felt something other than detached acceptance.

No delusion, I actually genuinely think Gortash would not have been happy at all if he'd known what happened to them, and Ketheric's role in it.

I think he'd actually be furious that Ketheric never told him.

He'd spit on his grave.

[yandere-genji]

💎Yandere Yakuza Hanzo Headcanons

• Yandere Yakuza!Hanzo owns the streets of Hanamura, often patrolling with his crew late at night. He has the most important people of the city in his pocket or working alongside him. The Yakuza has infiltrated practically the whole city. 

• When you first arrive in Hanamura, you very quick learn this. You were wise to heed the warnings to stay away from anything related to the organization. 

• But the Yakuza scouts any new residents, anyone that lives in the city is apart of their property. And Hanzo’s men are always eager to talk about a new pretty face that shows up in their territory. Often he pays no mind to them, more occupied by his duties than in chasing a shiny new toy. But once he does catch sight of you, he is fascinated by what he sees.

  • He is on duty every night, yet still finds the time to keep a close eye on you. You’re smart, you don’t hang about the usual places he and his crew would frequent. Many newcomers are quick to dismiss the influence of the Yakuza, but you knew better than that. Still, you couldn’t escape him. 

• You sparked his interest, something most people would kill for. He wanted to absorb you into his organization and gain full control of you. It began with infiltrating your workplace. New hires would try to entice you to joining the Yakuza with all its benefits. But you would respectfully decline and try to avoid any more interaction with them as possible. 

•When that didn’t work, he would send men to bestow you gifts on his behalf. It was certainly a shock, you didn’t know what you had done to receive anything from the Yakuza boss himself. But word quickly spread around the city that he had claimed you, all before you had even seen him yourself. 

• People grew distant from you. Some were taking precautions, others had received unsavory warnings. Before you knew it, everyone in the street stared at you as you walked by, whispering to each other as you passed. It upset you, and you started asking around about Hanzo to anyone who wasn’t afraid to speak to you. Those being people who were already affiliated with the Yakuza themselves and it would not be long until Hanzo caught wind of your curiosities. 

• In the dark of night, you were pulled into an alleyway by a group of well-dressed men. You were panicked, though you already knew you were living on borrowed time. They brought you to a marvelous adorned tea house, pink petal blossoms peppering the gardens. And there was Hanzo, dressed handsomely in western attire as he kneeled beside the table. 

• It was the first time you had seen him, and he already left a memorable impression. You heard stories about how vicious he was, and you could see it on his face. Even in his most relaxed state, his eyes were always angry and alert.  

• Many of your meetings with the Yakuza boss would be like this. When he was not preoccupied with his clandestine operation, he ushered you into a private room (though the privacy was soured by the entourage of men patrolling the perimeter) and the two of you spoke while he enjoyed a cup of tea.

•Declining his invitations wasn’t an option for you. You couldn’t escape him, you were both aware of that. Still, he wanted you closer. What good were you by yourself, you had to be by his side where he could keep you safe. Make sure no one in this world would hurt you and you would always be taken care of. 

[thrown-away-opinions]

So they post this and everyone in the replies goes off about they totally knew that everything we hear about China is wrong. Disclose, of course, neglects to post the article (or mention that it was reuters who posted the story) and anyone who mentions that no one has to lie to make people see how bad China really is gets slammed by a dozen useful idiots insisting that they must be CIA and that anyone who ever argued with them about China was a CIA disinfo account. The boogeyman of "Russian Bots" never really went away, did it?

In the actual fucking article, it's actually got nothing to say about lying about gutter oil, open air markets, Uighur concentration camps, slave labor wages where workers are illegally forced to live in the factory, tofu dreg construction, rampant political corruption, etc etc... Here's the key points.

Two years into office, President Donald Trump authorized the Central Intelligence Agency to launch a clandestine campaign on Chinese social media aimed at turning public opinion in China against its government, according to former U.S. officials with direct knowledge of the highly classified operation. Three former officials told Reuters that the CIA created a small team of operatives who used bogus internet identities to spread negative narratives about Xi Jinping’s government while leaking disparaging intelligence to overseas news outlets. ... The CIA team promoted allegations that members of the ruling Communist Party were hiding ill-gotten money overseas and slammed as corrupt and wasteful China’s Belt and Road Initiative, which provides financing for infrastructure projects in the developing world, the sources told Reuters.

Wow... Really spinning some absurd yarns there by shitposting at Chinese people under fake Chinese identities and telling them things that are actually happening.

Fucking hysterical that China would try and retaliate and say they'd NEVER do anything like that to America when the 50-Cent Army does what the CIA did, only worse and on a larger scale and is still operating to this day.

[artistoxxx]

Sundara's Corporate Enchantment

In the heart of the bustling corporate world, Sundara, a formidable professional, found herself immersed in the rhythm of deadlines and high-stakes meetings. Little did she know, a clandestine hypnotist had set their sights on her, weaving an intricate web of influence within the confines of the corporate labyrinth. The mysterious hypnotist, operating under the guise of a colleague, subtly introduced hypnotic suggestions during routine interactions. Under the guise of office camaraderie, Sundara became an unwitting subject to a mesmerizing spell that slowly infiltrated her consciousness. One fateful afternoon, during a seemingly innocuous team meeting, the hypnotist seized the opportunity. Sundara engrossed in the humdrum of corporate discussions, felt an unseen force subtly altering her perceptions. The hypnotist, with a casual flicker of their fingers, implanted powerful suggestions that would unfold in the days to come. As Sundara continued with her professional endeavours, an imperceptible transformation occurred. Her once assertive demeanour softened, replaced by newfound agreeableness. Colleagues noticed a subtle shift in her mindset, an unspoken willingness to align with the corporate objectives set by unseen hands. The hypnotic sessions continued, each interaction with the mysterious colleague reinforcing the spell. Sundara, in the grip of the hypnotist's influence, started to unknowingly enact a predetermined script, seamlessly integrating their suggestions into her daily routine. The climax of this corporate enigma unfolded during a pivotal board meeting. Sundara, usually known for her sharp analytical skills, surprised everyone with a proposal that seemed to align seamlessly with the company's hidden agenda. Unbeknownst to her colleagues, she had become a pawn in a game of corporate chess orchestrated by the mysterious hypnotist. As Sundara continued to navigate the corporate landscape, her actions and decisions were no longer entirely her own. The hypnotic suggestions had rewired her thoughts, aligning them with the concealed objectives of the unseen manipulator.

Sundara's metamorphosis continued an intricate dance between the visible and the concealed. The hypnotist, a master of subtlety, maintained his clandestine influence over her, ensuring that each step she took was orchestrated by the silent symphony of suggestion. Sundara's name became the refrain in the hypnotic melody, resonating in the unseen corners of her consciousness. The hypnotist, an architect of whispers, spoke her name in tones that seeped into her very being, embedding the suggestion more deeply with each utterance. Daily, in the quiet solitude of her home, Sundara engaged in a ritual known only to the shadows. The hypnotist's voice, a soft murmur in the stillness, guided her into a hypnotic trance. The room, bathed in muted hues, bore witness to the transformation – Sundara's eyes turning an ethereal white, the signal of her entry into a world governed by suggestion and enchantment. Her daytime facade, polished and professional, concealed the nocturnal reality of her submissive trance. The corporate world, oblivious to the intricate dance taking place behind Sundara's eyes, continued its relentless march forward, as the hypnotist's influence over her deepened. Sundara's hypnotic state, a well-guarded secret, remained imperceptible to society at large. Colleagues saw a dedicated professional, the epitome of corporate elegance, unaware of the subtle strings pulling her every move. There was no rebellion within Sundara, no internal conflict disturbing the facade of normalcy. She moved through the corporate maze with the grace of a marionette, each step choreographed by the unseen puppeteer. The permanence of her hypnotic state became a silent testament to the hypnotist's mastery.

As days turned into nights and nights into days, Sundara's duality became more entrenched. The hypnotist, an unseen maestro, continued to orchestrate the ballet of suggestion, deepening her trance with each passing moment. One fateful evening, under the city lights that mirrored her ethereal gaze, the hypnotist decided to bring Sundara into his presence. Their meeting was shrouded in secrecy, a rendezvous of shadows. Sundara, guided by the familiar voice that resonated within her, arrived at the designated location. The hypnotist emerged from the darkness, a silhouette with features obscured. His voice, once an elusive whisper, manifested in the physical realm. "Sundara, you have become a masterpiece of suggestion. Your every move, a stroke on the canvas of my design," he declared, his words intertwining with the hypnotic aura surrounding them. Sundara, submissive and entranced, acknowledged her transformation. "I am but a vessel, a reflection of your will," she responded, her voice a mere echo of the woman she once was. With a final command, the hypnotist intensified the enchantment, ensuring that Sundara's hypnotic state would endure indefinitely. Her eyes, perpetually white, reflected the permanence of her submission. As the shadows embraced them, the hypnotist faded back into obscurity. Sundara, now a living testament to his influence, resumed her dual life. The corporate world saw only elegance and efficiency, unaware of the silent dance between suggestion and obedience. The story of Sundara, a tale woven in the threads of secrecy and suggestion, concluded with her forever under the hypnotist's spell. Society, oblivious to the invisible puppeteer, continued its rhythm, leaving behind the enigma of a woman named Sundara – forever subdued, forever elegant.

[thebramblewood]

Read an exclusive excerpt of "Chapter 5: The Mysterious Cal and Lily" from Tangled Vines: A Complete Investigation of the Vatore Disappearances, the bestselling phenomenon sweeping Sim Nation!

The advent of the Roaring '20s put a new city on the map. Prohibition was in full swing across the nation (though often loosely and selectively enforced), but citizens were more eager than ever to revel in excess. Producers of alcoholic beverages (including the Vatore family itself, having swiftly resumed business operations despite the loss of its future inheritors) transitioned to an outward emphasis on medical spirits while moving recreational production underground. Equally clandestine speakeasys began cropping up by the dozens, but one city's winding sidewalks, grimy storefronts, and labyrinthine system of underground tunnels made it particularly well-suited to hosting these secret locales. Soon enough, San Myshuno was the pinnacle of glitz, glamor, and elegant debauchery. All who attended a party wanted to be seen. Curiously, though, two of the names most often uncovered in tabloid archives, Cal and Lily, seemed to fully avoid the increasingly ubiquitous flash of the camera. While other frequenters of the speakeasy circuit often found their grainy black and white faces in print, providing endless fodder for the burgeoning gossip rag industry, this pair remained elusive, which of course sold even more papers. Fellow partygoers pitched first-hand accounts to the highest bidders, and readers clung onto every salacious word. Lily and Cal were always observed to arrive together, but she would soon make a beeline for the gramophone while he settled in at the bar. Nearly every report calls Lily an exquisite beauty with an almost supernatural ability for drawing men into her orbit. In some instances, partygoers describe a herd of suitors nearly erupting into fisticuffs as they competed for her attention. It is impossible to say how many of these accounts are exaggerated or even fabricated. Nevertheless, it is clear she was quite the force. At the end of the night, she would leave with her chosen companion, stupefied by his stroke of good luck, on her arm. Meanwhile, Cal would watch listlessly from a distance, nursing a glass of whiskey he was never observed to actually drink. The relationship between the two was unclear, as was his reason for accompanying her, as he seemed to have little interest in the raucousness surrounding him. He rarely engaged with other guests or even Lily herself, though there is at least one report of an argument in which he seemed with little success to be dissuading her from leaving with yet another man. One cannot help but draw parallels to a certain set of siblings with suspiciously similar names. Despite being younger, Caleb Vatore was always said to be protective over his sister Lilith's interests, even if she rarely heeded his advice. Digging into the newspaper archives at Myshuno Meadows Library unearths several more disturbing accounts. Increasingly, there were whispers that the men Lily seduced completely vanished from San Myshuno society after coming into contact with her. While there was a small spike in unsolved murder cases at the time, a concrete connection between the victims and the mysterious Lily cannot be made. In one story, which admittedly reads like a hallucinatory drug trip, Lily is described as a succubus with glowing red eyes and sharp blood-stained teeth. This account was clearly dismissed, for its revelations were never entertained further. All at once, the champagne and glitter dissolved into a more sober era, and these socialites vanished from public life just as swiftly. In isolation, similarities between Cal and Lily and the disappeared Vatore siblings may seem like mere coincidences. In truth, it cannot even be proven that they existed. No official records matching either individual have been discovered. One could argue that they were works of fiction concocted to boost sales or composites drawn from several individuals. However, considered alongside the evidence to be presented in later chapters, the theory that this duo and the Vatores are one and the same becomes too tantalizingly probable to dismiss.

[androxys]

Task Force What? An Incomplete (Yet Still Very Long) Guide to Some of the DCU’s Government Groups [Part 1]

So, you’re reading DC comics and a government agency pops up that you’re reasonably sure doesn’t exist in the real world. Who are they? What’s their deal? Here’s a quick primer on some of the groups that you may encounter.

A few notes and disclaimers: This writeup is primarily based on post-Crisis, pre-Flashpoint/New 52 comic canon. I’ve tried to note every exception to that general rule. Also, several of these groups and comics use historical markers tied to the real world, which makes less and less sense as we-as-readers get farther away in time from when these comics were originally published. DC eventually stopped using real people and events so frequently in comics to help with their timelessness, but I’m going to include the historical figures and times as depicted in the source material, even if that means the same Batman is supposed to have been active in the 70s and also in 2011. Just don’t worry about it.

This writeup is split into three parts, described below. This section is the most dense, dealing with the history of 13 agencies, some of their key players, and the organizations' general missions. Special thanks to my editors and beta readers for helping me shape this up.

Part 1: Organization Descriptions and Histories

Task Force X

Argent

The Suicide Squad

Checkmate

Central Bureau of Investigation

The Agency

Project: Peacemaker

Department of Extranormal Operations

All Purpose Enforcement Squad

Project Cadmus / The DNA Project

Human Defense Corps

A.R.G.U.S.

Spyral

Part 2: Timeline

Part 3: Reading Suggestions

Task Force X

One of the most famous of DC’s government groups, Task Force X is sometimes used interchangeably with “The Suicide Squad.” However, that’s (at least originally) not quite accurate! Task Force X was a government program that housed two clandestine programs: Argent and The Suicide Squad. Task Force X was originally started in the 50s by President Truman to make up for the disappearance of the Justice Society of America after Senator McCarthy summoned them before his House of Un-American Activities Committee and tried to force them to unmask. Task Force X was designed to deal with the “extraordinary” (read: metahuman and alien) threats that might face the U.S. government. Argent was the domestic program, while the Suicide Squad was international. The leader of Argent took his team and disappeared in the 60s, while the Suicide Squad disbanded soon after due to budget cuts.

Task Force X would be revived in the 80s when then-congressional aide Amanda Waller would present to President Reagan a plan to revitalize The Suicide Squad, this time utilizing supervillains for high risk, clandestine missions in exchange for reduced prison time. Waller also envisioned the reorganization of intelligence group The Agency, which would become the intelligence-focused division of Task Force X. The Agency would be led by former Doom Patrol member Valentina Vostok until its reorganization into Checkmate, at which point Harry Stein was named Checkmate’s King. Although Central Bureau of Intelligence leader Sarge Steel had significant reservations about Task Force X, the President ultimately approved the project. 

After an inter-departmental war known as the Janus Directive, Task Force X was dissolved as an umbrella organization. The Suicide Squad and Checkmate were made fully independent of one another, with Sarge Steele assuming direct control of Checkmate from Waller, who stayed on as the director of the Suicide Squad.

Argent

Argent was the U.S. based division of the original, 50’s Task Force X that dealt with domestic and civilian “extraordinary” encounters. Originally led by a man named only as “Control,” Argent went underground after Control killed a man connected with the assassination of President Kennedy in 1963. Control’s vision for this new, even more secretive Argent was an internationally focused spy agency for justice, though little is known about how effective he was. Presumed defunct, Argent was not revived when Amanda Waller proposed her new Suicide Squad. Eventually, the new Suicide Squad made contact with the remenants of Argent, and were witness to the ultimate end of the program.

The Suicide Squad

Originally, the Suicide Squad was the self-given name of WWII platoon with a depressingly high fatality rate. Over the course of the war, the squadron found themselves on Dinosaur Island, which certainly didn’t help those numbers. Richard Montgomery Flag Sr. was brought in to help lead the group, turning the squadron around into a highly decorated division of the Army.

In 1951, after the Justice Society was driven underground, President Truman created Task Force X to be able to combat “extraordinary” threats now that there were no costumed heroes to rely on. Truman requested that Flag Sr. lead The Suicide Squad, which focused on international threats. This group was largely composed of veterans of the WWII Squadron S. This version of the Suicde Squad was disbanded after the death of Flag Sr.

A third version of the Squad was created by General Stuart, tapping Rick Flag Jr. to be its leader. This team continued to deal with extranormal threats, but disbanded after a mission in Cambodia that saw the loss of half the squad. It was also revealed that regardless of the fatalities, budget cuts demanded the end of the program.

The most famous version of the Suicide Squad was proposed by congressional aide Amanda Waller to President Reagan in the 1980s, following the Legends event. Waller envisioned a revival of Task Force X as an umbrella program, with the new Suicide Squad being staffed by incarcerated supervillains. These villains would undertake high-risk, clandestine operations in return for reduced prison sentences. Part of the appeal of this model was the deniability: in the event that an operation went poorly, the government could simply blame it on the supervillain. President Reagan approved the program–Waller was the leader of Task Force X, which included both the Suicide Squad and The Agency, which was soon remade into Checkmate.

This Suicide Squad operated out of Belle Reve penitentiary, which was a maximum security prison specializing in holding supervillains. The initial administration of the Suicide Squad consisted of Amanda Waller as its director, Belle Reve’s warden John Economos, psychologist Simon LaGrieve, bureaucratic assistant Flo Crawley, and pilot Briscoe. Waller brought in Rick Flag Jr. to serve as her field leader and Ben Turner, the Bronze Tiger, as second in command. While the Squad certainly lived up to its name and reputed high mortality rate, notable team members include Eve Eden, Nightshade; Floyd Lawton, Deadshot; June Moone, Enchantress; and George Harkness, Captain Boomerang. I’m not going to spoil the whole Oracle plot for you, but know that Barbara Gordon actually debuted as Oracle in the pages of Suicide Squad, so consider this your sign to go read Suicide Squad (1987).

After the events of The Janus Directive, Task Force X was dissolved as an umbrella organization. While Waller was left as the director of the Suicide Squad, she no longer had any leadership in Checkmate, which had passed into the control of Sarge Steel, director of the Central Bureau of Investigation.

After a number of missions, Waller eventually disbanded the Suicide Squad, finding herself disillusioned with the Squad’s goals. However, because this is comics, the Suicide Squad would not stay dead for long. Waller would periodically create new incarnations of the Squad to address spontaneous issues that would arise, often crossing over with other superheroes' adventures. During Lex Luthor’s presidency, Waller would be appointed Secretary of Metahuman Affairs, taking Sarge Steel’s place.

After Checkmate was rechartered as an United Nations organization, Amanda Waller took a position as the White Queen. To limit conflicts of interest, this effectively meant that the Suicide Squad was permanently disbanded, as Waller was prohibited from operations and could not be involved in the leadership of both organizations. This didn’t stop her, however, and Waller formed a new incarnation of the Suicide Squad that began Operation: Salvation Run. This project involved rounding up all supervillains and deporting them to a prison planet via Boom Tube (yes, really) where they were supposed to stay indefinitely. Waller was eventually ousted from Checkmate, but not before she and her Squad managed to deport the majority of Earth’s villains. The Suicide Squad would have to confront its ghosts during the Blackest Night event, when zombified fallen members of the Squad came after living members, but further adventures were cut off by Flashpoint.

Checkmate

Checkmate started from The Agency, a quasi-independent intelligence focused division of Task Force X led by former Doom Patrol member Valentina Vostok. Vostok brought in former NYPD lieutenant Harry Stein, who soon reorganized the group into Checkmate. Borrowing from chess’ hierarchy, Stein was King, working with his Queen counterpart to coordinate various agents. Bishops oversaw Rooks, who planned missions for support agents–Pawns–and special agents–Knights. Checkmate operated out of Konig Industries in Shelby, Virginia until the events of the Janus Directive. During that event, Checkmate lost roughly 40 Knights and its Konig cover was blown. With only a third of its agents, Checkmate was subsequently forced to relocate to a NORAD base in Colorado.

Harry Stein resigned as head of Checkmate after his son was shot, leading Sarge Steel to promote Phil Kramer to King and Kalia Cambell to Queen. They would lead Checkmate against Jade Nguyen, the assassin known as Chesire, during the time she took control of several nuclear warheads and bombed the nation of Qurac. At some point Checkmate would establish their division between black side, which ran operations, and white side, which was primarily intelligence.

Bishop Jessica Midnight recruited Sasha Bordeaux, Bruce Wayne’s former bodyguard, into Checkmate. Bordeaux had been imprisoned due to suspicion that she was an accomplice to Bruce Wayne's alleged killing of Vesper Fairchild. Checkmate faked Bordeaux’s death in prison and provided her with plastic surgery to assume a completely new life as a Checkmate operative.

After Kramer, former Knight David Said would become the new King of Checkmate. He would lead Checkmate against Batman in Gotham City, a campaign that saw them abduct Helena Bertinelli, the Huntress, and install her as Queen in an attempt to have her share secrets from Batman. This arrangement was actually a plan between Batman and Huntress, however, and Bertinelli ended up serving as a mole for Batman on Checkmate. 

For this next section, I choose to believe that Checkmate was a victim of Superboy-Prime’s altering of reality in the leadup to Infinite Crisis. Checkmate is suddenly headed by Maxwell Lord, Said and Bertinelli are nowhere to be seen, and Lord’s motivations are massively different from any of his previous appearances. Regardless, under Lord, Checkmate amassed information on every metahuman on Earth with plans to eliminate them. To do this, Lord was given access to the Brother Eye satellite, and together they controlled over one million OMACs–civilians that had been injected with nanotechnology to make them unwitting cyborg sleeper agents. When Ted Kord, the Blue Beetle, discovered what Lord had been up to, Lord killed him and instructed Bordeaux to dispose of the body.

Sasha sent Blue Beetle’s goggles to Batman, alerting him of Kord’s death. Once Lord knew that Batman was on his tail, he accelerated his plans, using his mental manipulation powers to take control of Superman and send him on a rampage to keep other heroes occupied. When Wonder Woman caught up with Lord, she bound him in her Lasso of Truth and commanded him to tell her how to set Superman free. The only option he gave her was for him to die, so Wonder Woman snapped his neck. Upon Lord’s death, Brother Eye immediately activated all OMACs and began the King_Is_Dead protocol, which involved killing every current Checkmate agent. Bordeaux, who had been imprisoned by Lord after he discovered her subterfuge, escaped, though not before her own unique OMAC programming activated. Lord had intended for her, as his Knight, to be a special type of OMAC, leaving her somewhere between human and machine. Later, Bordeaux would team up with Batman and other heroes to take down Brother Eye.

After Infinite Crisis, Checkmate was recharted by the United Nations to be an international group with a stronger system of checks and balances. Checkmate operated under a system of twos: two Kings and two Queens, with a Knight and Bishop for all four royals. Most specifically, the U.N. charter set out a Rule of Two: each position had to be balanced with meta and non-metahumans. As before, Black side was operations while White was intelligence. Bishops advised their royals, while Knights were special agents. Rooks were an elite Black Ops unit, while numerous Pawns were standard agents.

At the time of its chartering, the new Checkmate had the OMAC enhanced Bordeaux as its Black Queen, Taleb Beni Khalid as its unpowered Black King, JSA Green Lantern Alan Scott as White King, and Amanda Waller as White Queen. After Scott resigned as White King his Bishop, fellow JSA member Michael Holt–Mister Terrific, took his place.

This Checkmate frequently clashed with Kobra, the international cult intent on bringing a new age of chaos to the world. However, they also had a non-insignificant amount of infighting. Significantly, Waller was forced out as White Queen after she tried to preemptively remove Bordeaux and Holt, knowing that they were getting close to uncovering her illicit Suicide Squad and their Operation: Salvation Run.

After the events of Brightest Day, Maxwell Lord returns from the dead and uses his power to make nearly everyone on Earth forget about him. He immediately begins to try to regain control of Checkmate, beginning a misinformation and discrediting campaign against Checkmate’s leadership.

Central Bureau of Intelligence (C.B.I.)

The Central Bureau of Intelligence is a sort of corollary to the Federal Bureau of Investigation within the DC Universe. The organization primarily focuses on information gathering from domestic and international sources, then utilizing that information for operations. However, while other groups are focused on “extranormal” threats, the CBI is primarily concerned with “normal” missions. When special assignments do come up, special agents are dispatched.

The CBI was known to be active when Task Force X was being revived by Amanda Waller. While Sarge Steel was both known to be involved in the CBI and important enough to sit in on Waller’s meeting with the President of the United States, it is not clearly stated that he was the director of the CBI at that time. However, Sarge Steel would officially be the director of the CBI by the time of the Janus Initiative. Despite the massive reorganization at the time, the CBI was left largely alone. Steel would be promoted to the Director of Metahuman Affairs, a Cabinet level position wherein he would oversee all metahuman related operations for the federal government.

Among the most notable CBI agents are the aforementioned Sarge Steel, King Faraday, and former Teen Titan Roy Harper. After leaving the Titans, Harper would work for the CBI as a special agent–it was during this period he met Jade Nguyen, the assassin known as Chesire, and conceived their daughter Lian.

Eventually, the CBI would be incorporated into the Department of Extranormal Operations.

The Agency

The Agency was a group led by former Doom Patrol member Valentina Vostok that aimed to monitor superheroes. When Amanda Waller presented her plan to reform Task Force X, the Agency was reorganized into Checkmate. Among its divisions was Project: Peacemaker.

Project: Peacemaker

Project Peacemaker was the program that created and maintained Christopher Smith’s activities as Peacemaker. Originally, Project Peacemaker was a division of the Agency. When Task Force X was revived under Amanda Waller’s proposal, the Agency was reorganized into Checkmate, and Project Peacemaker is implied to have been made its own entity. However, when Task Force X was dissolved after The Janus Directive, Project Peacemaker became folded into Checkmate under the supervision of Sarge Steel.

The Department of Extranormal Affairs (D.E.O.)

In terms of real-world publication, the DEO began in 1998 as DC’s effort to begin consolidating all of the various federal metahuman organizations under one umbrella. In this author’s opinion, this was for the better.

The Department of Extranormal Operations is the U.S. government’s most modern and comprehensive agency to assess and combat metahuman threats through intelligence gathering, field operatives, and their own research.

The DEO conducts extensive research on metahumans and extranormal entities, with various degrees of transparency or consent. The DEO has been depicted to hold individuals against their will in order to study them, to the point of sending either their own agents or other affiliated groups to hunt down subjects that escape. This research seemed to be, in its early depictions, its primary focus. However, the DEO would take broader forays into intelligence, using that information for good… and sometimes to blackmail heroes into working for them.

In most depictions, the DEO is led by Director Bones, a former member of Infinity Inc, who reports to the federal Director of Metahuman Affairs. Bones is the direct supervisor of operative Cameron Chase, who has proved herself an exceptional agent. Through Chase, Kate Spencer–the Manhunter–was brought in to work for the DEO for some time.

The DEO is expansive enough to have several subdivisions within it. One such group was the Department of Metahuman Affairs, where Wonder Woman would work after Infinite Crisis. This subdivision would focus specifically on gathering and preparing intelligence on active metahumans, should the government need it. This subdivision would be led by Sarge Steel, who had left the White House upon the election of Lex Luthor and Luthor’s subsequent appointment of Amanda Waller to Secretary for Metahuman Affairs.

Another group known to be active during Luthor’s presidency was Knightwatch, a more militaristic division that responded to possible metahuman attacks on federal personnel and buildings.

The DEO’s research facilities are detailed in various comics across the 90s. It is gradually revealed that the DEO either maintains or sponsors a variety of training camps and research facilities, sometimes called “orphanages,” that hold metahumans under various states of duress. One example is Secret, the Young Justice member who is shown escaping from a DEO orphanage, and later gets Young Justice’s help shutting down similar experimentation programs. A group of metahumans who escape from the DEO collectively get taken in by the Titans. Conversely, some of the individuals who go on to be the Relative Heroes are depicted to be in a more traditional fostering environment, though it is still connected to the DEO. 

Within the continuity of the Supergirl TV show, as part of the Arrowverse, the DEO is a governmental organization that specifically deals with extraterrestrial threats and encounters.

All Purpose Enforcement Squad (A.P.E.S.)

The All Purpose Enforcement Squad is an international, interdepartmental group of highly trained special agents. APES features most prominently in the Young Justice series, represented by Donald Fite and Ishido Maad. 

While APES has connections to international organizations such as Interpol and Scotland Yard, they seem primarily U.S. based, as APES was the primary group trying to recover Secret, a metahuman who escaped from a DEO research facility.

Project Cadmus

Project Cadmus, sometimes also known as the DNA Project, is a government supported genetic research lab. Cadmus is involved with cloning and gene sequencing for the purpose of creating new life, with their most famous creation being Superboy.

Originally led by Director Paul Westfield, Cadmus employed various scientists engaged with genetic manipulation. The most notorious of these scientists was Dabney Donovan, who created “DNAliens” with inhuman powers. These DNAliens include Dubbilex, the grey skinned, horned telepath who would serve as a mentor to Superboy. Cadmus also employed the adult members of the original Newsboy Legion. These adults cloned themselves to create a new Newsboy Legion, and additionally cloned former NYPD officer Jim Harper–the original Guardian. This new cloned Guardian would serve as head of security of Cadmus.

Donovan was eventually fired from Cadmus due to the extremity of his experiments. Donovan would go on to align himself with The Agenda, another genetic lab responsible for their own Superboy clone: Match. Cadmus would also have an enemy in the form of the Evil Factory, led by Mokkari and Simyan, servants of Darkseid.

After a virus affecting clones and DNAliens breaks out, Cadmus began to receive intense scrutiny. A purification by fire was attempted, with missiles aimed to destroy sections of Metropolis and stop the virus. After the missiles were stopped, Donovan revealed himself to be the mastermind of the virus and killed Westfield, leading Mickey Cannon to be named the new administrative director of Cadmus. This scrutiny forced Cadmus to withdraw from the public eye, going deeper underground.

Under Cannon, Dabney would be kept imprisoned in Cadmus to serve as a scientific advisor under armed guard. Cannon also brought in Serling Roquette to be the new head of genetics–Roquette would eventually be responsible for curing Superboy of the genetic quirk that kept him from aging. Cadmus would continue to withdraw from attention, especially under the presidency of Lex Luthor.

Human Defense Corps

The Human Defense Corps was a group started under President Luthor’s administration with the goal of having an entirely non-metahuman taskforce that could respond to meta-level threats. This was in line with Luthor’s goal of reducing dependency on superheroes, and as such only recruited from decorated military veterans.

A specific subgroup within the Human Defense Corps was Squad K, a division specifically armed and trained to take on Kryptonian targets.

A.R.G.U.S.

You may have noticed that I didn’t put what A.R.G.U.S. stands for up above. That’s because sources disagree. According to the wiki, A.R.G.U.S. stands for Advanced Research Group Uniting Super-humans. A.R.G.U.S. was created post-Flashpoint to be a governmental organization associated with the Department of Homeland Security. Specifically, A.R.G.U.S. aims to support super- and meta-human endeavors, rather than having an antagonistic relationship with the superhuman community.

A.R.G.U.S. took on a life of its own within the TV Arrowverse shows, where it’s called the Advanced Research Group United Support. There, A.R.G.U.S. is the de facto government agency for dealing with metahuman threats. It was formerly led by Amanda Waller before leadership passed to Lyla Michaels. 

Spyral

Before I start to give the details on Spyral, I have to disclaim a few things about it. Spyral was first mentioned in the New Earth timeline, during Grant Morrison’s time with Batman Incorporated (2011). This was immediately before Flashpoint and the New 52 reboot. However, this run of Batman Incorporated kept going within the New Earth continuity past when Flashpoint happened, meaning that the comics had to disclaim that they were still the old continuity, even though the reboot happened. But then! Batman Incorporated (2012) was a direct sequel to the New Earth run, even though this Volume 2 explicitly happens in the post-reboot continuity.

All of this to say, Spyral is an organization that has roots in the New Earth continuity, but was largely fleshed out in the post-Flashpoint universe. Because of the relative lack of information in the pre-Flashpoint continuity, however, we can assume a lot of the later established details can be retroactively applied.

Technically, Spyral is not a U.S. agency. Originally, Spyral was founded during the Cold War to be a United Nations affiliated spy group. The U.N. made former Nazi spy Otto Netz, under the pseudonym Agent Zero, the head of the organization. He was subsequently tasked with recruiting Spyral’s agents and building the organization for the U.N.

Spyral continued into the 80s, at which point Netz was revealed to be a double agent and imprisoned in a lighthouse. Though the organization seemingly collapsed at that point, Spyral’s operations continued. At some point before his imprisonment, Netz recruited Gotham City socialite Kathy Webb Kane into Spyral and tasked her with discovering the identity of the Batman. Kathy developed the Batwoman persona to get close to Batman, though the revelation that Netz was her father caused her to break off contact with both Batman and retreat from Spyral. Kathy Webb Kane was believed to have been killed by Ben Turner, the Bronze Tiger, during his period of being controlled by the League of Assassins.

Netz would be broken out of his imprisonment by the Leviathan Organization, which is a militaristic group led by Talia al Ghul, after her estrangement from her father Ra’s al Ghul. Leviathan seeks to undo much of modern society in order to rebuild the world in a “better” way. Talia set Netz up as Doctor Dedalus to combat Batman and his Batman Incorporated initiative, designing elaborate traps across the globe to keep Bruce Wayne and his operatives occupied. Netz was eventually killed within one of his traps by Damian Wayne, who was attempting to save his father.

It was revealed after Netz’s death that Kathy Webb Kane was still alive, and had faked her own demise in order to become the secret headmistress of Spyral. After Netz’s death, the U.N. officially reactivated Spyral in order to combat Leviathan’s continued growth.

Spyral operates out of St. Hadrian’s Finishing School for Girls. Initially in the New Earth continuity, the school had been a Leviathan facility, training young women as infiltrators and assassins. It was the site of Stephanie Brown’s mission as Batgirl on behalf of Batman Incorporated, and she and Batman managed to stop the Leviathan plot. In the post-Flashpoint continuity, St. Hadrian’s is Spyral’s base, where elite students are trained as spies. It’s assumed that Spyral just took control after ousting Leviathan.

After Dick Grayson was publically unmasked as Nightwing, he joined Spyral to investigate the organization. During this period, he worked with Helena Bertinelli, who was working as the Matron of Spyral. Grayson would continue as Agent 37 of Spyral for some time, until his identity was restored. At that point, he and Bertinelli both returned to Gotham to take up the mantles of Nightwing and Huntress, respectively. With Bertinelli’s departure, directorship of Spyral and the title of Patron passed to Agent-1, the operative known as Tiger.

[vvxgs]

𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗘𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗜𝗡 ── CHARLES L.

°˖✧˚ SYNOPSIS — ❝Y/N understood quantum physics, but Charles Leclerc was a true mystery to her.❞

°˖✧˚ PAIRING — Y/N && Charles Leclerc.

°˖✧˚ WARNINGS — mentions of guns and drastic interrogation methods.

°˖✧˚ A/N — i might turn this into something (full fic maybe?), but for now, enjoy whatever the hell this au! is. please remember that english is not my first language! errors and weird senteces might appear.

The chilling silence hung in the air, freezing blood in their veins. The room was consumed by an eerie stillness, broken only by the muffled sound of a shooter's boot hitting the floor. It shattered the tangible silence, disrupted by uneven breaths tainted with nervousness. Nothing was disturbing the lethargy, driven by the desperate determination to succeed in the operation. Not even the urge to reach for the rifle slung over the shoulder. Clouds of smoke accompanied the men, dispersed by the retreating night and replaced by the pinkish hue of the rising sun on the horizon. The exhaled air left behind only a fleeting, foggy memory, devoid of any imagery.

"Clear.", came the slightly distorted voice, illuminated by the red glow of the dashboard. A makeshift map with blood-colored markers denoting soldiers from his unit, was displayed on a small screen, about a dozen inches in size. All eyes in the vehicle turned to him, a gaze he could feel even without acknowledging anyone. Without hesitation, he nodded, opening the side doors and pushing his hair away from his forehead.

"Get inside and make sure the target doesn't call for help.", he replied coolly, extending his leg out of the black van. Its makeshift ordinariness was merely a cover, a tiny detail in the grand scheme of the clandestine operation. He felt no scent of doubt, no impulse of weakness that could shake his unwavering confidence in his abilities. After all, infiltrating the enemy's capital to abduct a few local geniuses was not extraordinary, right?

Just a few swift, measured steps brought them to the emotionally charged house, practically a mansion, bestowed upon another nerd by the state in exchange for silence and obedience to the law. The thought of all these geniuses devoid of any values, selfishly envisioning a future tainted by the state's poison, filled him with pure disgust. The morality instilled in him by growing up among revolutionaries could never comprehend such behavior. This community was dying at the monarchy's behest, and those who could help traded their skills for a comfortable and prosperous life. They had indeed set an interesting price for human life.

He slipped his hands into the pockets of his trousers, which bore no resemblance to the navy blue uniform adorned with badges. In a moment, he crossed the threshold of the building. It wasn't his first time intercepting a 'genius,' so the exclusivity failed to impress him. Besides, the Empire sent enough money to silence their power, balancing the environment he moved in. Soon, he heard the hurried footsteps of one of his subordinates, which turned out to be accompanied by others. Female, he noted after a while. The only thing that amused him was shooter's glove in the hostage's mouth.

He measured her with a stern look, leaning in and grimacing in displeasure.

"Year after year, they make less of an impression, Ms. Y/S.", he remarked, referring to the mediocrity of the woman . "I hope your mind isn't as dull as your face."

His forearms unconsciously crossed over his chest, while his index finger, supported by his elbow, rubbed the space between his brows, expressing his dissatisfaction with the current situation. It was so straightforward yet convoluted that his desire to be here vanished faster than ever before, if one didn't classify the obvious reluctance that emerged beforehand.

"Mr. Leclerc, you are in serious trouble. My father won't be pleased when he finds out about everything.", Y/N said.

"I'll blow your brains out and damage your organs so severely that no doctor will be able to help you before he does anything."

"I'd like to see you try to pull the trigger, Charles."

Y/N knew him too well. How could he shoot his first love? His beloved who, after breaking his heart, made his whole life feel like he was inhaling flowers that had no scent?