#material breach of contract

[thellawtoknow]

Did Your Business Suffer from a Contract Law Breach? Here's What to Do

Introduction Contract law is a fundamental aspect of the legal system, governing the formation, execution, and enforcement of agreements between parties. In business transactions, contracts serve as the backbone, ensuring that all parties involved are clear about their obligations and expectations. These legal instruments are pivotal in managing relationships and operations within a business…

[witherby]

Uncertain Home was so so so good! Absolute masterpiece! But I cant help but think about the rest of the Batfam's reactions when they find out about what happened. I just imagine that whenever any of the Batboy's are within range of Clark and Diana with Mouse, they just do that "Dont touch the child!" meme. This one if your not familiar with the meme https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKHiIyNbE0o Just imagining them just appearing out of nowhere like the gremlins they are ready to bitch slap and throw hands at anyone who tries to hurt their mouse again is so funny to me for absolutely no reason at all.

A masterpiece? Thank you so much, that's incredibly flattering!!

Oh, the rest of the family is pissed for sure! The day after you're brought home, Bruce gives them the run-down and shows them the little contract you two made, reiterating that while he's not happy about other heroes intruding on Gotham excessively, he isn't outright banning anybody from the city. You, of course, are reassured that your family welcomes and loves you with open arms, content in the knowledge that they would do anything for you.

Your brothers all exchange looks with each other and unanimously decide that Clark and Diana aren't allowed to come by for a while, unless it's a world-ending emergency or something similar. If they try, each one will back up Damian's initial threats with little add-ons of their own.

"Oh, Flittermouse is home so you've gotta go!" Tim smiles politely up at Clark, refusing to let him past the front door. "I think you should stay in Metropolis, actually, unless explicitly invited here. Wouldn't want my dad's contingency files getting leaked to the wrong people, like, oh I dunno, Lex Luthor or something! Just a little thing to think about...bye!"

Diana barely makes it past the perimeter of the city before Jason, wearing the Red Hood getup, intercepts her with a not-so-casual wave.

"Y'know I really admire you," he says. "You're from a whole island of warriors, which is so badass. Warriors like..."

And then he just starts name-dropping her sisters. One by one. And her mother. And then mentions how lovely the architecture of the buildings are, in explicit detail. And then wonders aloud how difficult it might be to breach said buildings, how flammable the material constituting them could potentially be, and by the way, how hot a fire has to burn before bodies get reduced to ash...

Diana leaves quickly, face pale.

If they do have to come to Gotham for an emergency, Dick has you practically attached to him by the hip. His demeanor doesn't emotionally change — he smiles politely and cracks jokes like it's any old day — but the arm that isn't supporting you is clenched into a fist, and he won't allow either of them within five feet of you. If Clark happens to brush up against him by accident, he finds out real quickly that the escrima sticks on his back aren't resting in their usual sling, but instead a lead-lined compartment because the ends have been coated in a thin layer of kryptonite.

Bruce, knows what they're doing. Of course he does, he's their father and the world's greatest detective. He figured they'd go to extremes like this in a heartbeat.

The only reason he hasn't stepped in is because he's done the same thing. Your auntie Diana and Uncle Clark aren't the only ones in trouble, after all. Uncle J'onn is just the only one smart enough to receive a threat and not push the envelope.

[harunayuuka2060]

Azul: I'm sure you already know why you're here.

MC: *has been summoned to Octavinelle*

Azul: If a third party intentionally causes one party to breach their legally binding contract, they could be sued for tortious interference.

Azul: That's what you've been doing for some time now.

MC: ...

MC: I'm afraid I lack knowledge when it comes to business matters. Surely, you won’t hold that against me.

Azul: That's unfortunate. However, I can use other methods to ensure you fully understand what you've done.

MC: *smiles* Oh, would you?

Azul: *confused frown* You seem quite confident for someone who just came from another world.

MC: Yes, considering I've never been from this world, I certainly know how to put you at a disadvantage.

Azul: I don’t have time for bluff— *his eyes widened*

Azul: How—WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!

MC: The only place you can find this photo is at the Atlantica Memorial Museum.

MC: I just happened to go there with my dorm leader and then I saw this photo.

MC: Something in the back of my mind urged me to get it.

Azul: You’re intending to use that as a blackmail material.

MC: Yes.

Azul: ...

Azul: *forces a smile* It takes more than that to intimidate me.

MC: ...

MC: I see. You're right.

MC: If others were to see it, it wouldn’t bother you.

Azul: Y-Yes. Now hand it to me.

MC: ...

MC: *stood up from their seat* No. This photo represents a cherished memory. If you won't value it, I may as well keep it.

Azul: ...

MC: *makes their way to the door*

Azul: Wait! We can still discuss—

*The door shuts.*

Azul: ...

Jade: *who didn't bother to interrupt throughout their conversation*

Jade: That was quite clever. *chuckles*

Jade: It's been a while since someone outsmarted you, Azul.

Azul: Quiet!

Azul: I need to steal that photo back.

Jade: Leave it to me.

Floyd: Eh~ Was the photo even legit?

Jade: Yes. We saw it with our own two eyes.

Floyd: *sigh* Alright. Who is it?

Jade: It's the person who single-handedly defeated a group of Savanaclaw students.

Floyd: ...

Floyd: *flashes an exciting yet terrifying smile*

Floyd: Why didn't you say earlier~?

Malleus: *sad pouty face* Aren't you heading back to the dorm with Dada?

MC: *smiles apologetically* There's something I need to do.

Malleus: ...

Malleus: *sigh* Alright.

MC: By the way, Dada, please try not to eat too much ice cream today.

Malleus: *pouts*

MC: *chuckles*

Malleus: *smiles* Well, just call me if you run into any trouble.

MC: *nods*

Malleus: *kisses their forehead then disappears*

MC: ...

Floyd: Eh~ How sweet~ Is Sea Slug your boyfriend~? *appears from the place where he's hiding*

MC: No.

Floyd: Are you sure~? Hehee~

MC: You're not here to be curious about that.

Floyd: Wow, straight to the point~. I like that.

Floyd: I've been wanting to give you a squeeze since the tournament~.

*A student rushes to report to Crowley.*

Scarabia student: Sir! MC and Floyd are fighting on Main Street!

Crowley: What?!

*Crowley, along with Professor Trein and Professor Crewel, hurried to Main Street to break up the fight between MC and Floyd.*

Crowley: Stop right this instant!

Professor Trein: Leech! You ought to know better than to harm students who are weaker than you—

Floyd: *turns his head* Huh?!

Professor Trein: ...

*MC's uniform is crooked, and their hair is messy from the fight, while Floyd, on the other hand, has light bruises on his cheek and traces of blood on his nose.*

Professor Crewel: ...

Professor Crewel: *looks at MC* Did you win, pup?

Floyd: I didn't lose yet, Beakfish!

MC: ...

Crowley: That's enough!

*In the faculty office, MC and Floyd are being asked why they fought in the first place.*

MC: ...

Floyd: ...

Professor Crewel: Aren't you both going to speak up?

MC and Floyd: ...

Crowley: Since you refused to provide a statement, I’m afraid both of you will have to face punishment.

Crowley: You will be helping the ghosts in the cafeteria for the next two weeks.

Floyd: *frowns* Why~?

MC: I'll do it.

Floyd: ...

Floyd: *smiles* Seashell-chan~ Let's continue our fight when no one's looking~.

Professor Trein: No. That was the end of it.

Floyd: Tch.

MC: ...

Azul: You lost to MC and failed to retrieve the photo.

Floyd: Eh~ Was I supposed to get it~?

Azul: JADE TOLD YOU!

Jade: It seems Floyd forgot due to his excitement.

Azul: ...

Azul: *breathes in* I'm going to handle this myself from now on.

[botgal]

A heads up to anyone living in Oklahoma.

Oklahoma Senator Dusty Deevers is set to introduce a law to the Oklahoma State Senate, SB 593, which will not only increase punishment for possession of CSAM (Child Sexual Exploitation Material), but outlaw and criminalize ALL forms of pornography and it's creation, distribution, and possession. Whether it be written, auditory, or visual.

This bill is not only a massive breach of First Amendment rights of adults to access things, but also a danger to any adults who wish to access these problems. As Senator Deevers has especially cited that any educators or librarians who look at such should be classified as sex offenders.

This comes with a slew of other bills which Senator Deevers claims are to help "restore moral sanity in Oklahoma".

SB 456: The Abolition of Abortion Act - Outlaws the use of self administered abortion medication and effectively “declares that life begins at conception and ensures that no person may lawfully terminate the life of a child in the womb."

SB 550: Classifies Drag Queen Story Hour as a cabaret performance to effectively ban the nonsexual presentation of drag queens near children.

SB 228: The Covenant Marriage Act - Offers a $2,500 tax credit to Oklahoma couples who consent to a "covenant marriage" in which they waive any right to divorce except under "cases of abuse, adultery, or abandonment".

SB 829: Ends Oklahoma no fault divorce by removing "incompatability" as a reason for divorce. If signed into law it would only allow divorces in the event of "abandonment, gross neglect, extreme cruelty, habitual drunkenness, insanity for a period of five years, adultery, unknown pregnancy and fraudulent contract."

SB 329: The Promote Child Thriving Act - Creates a $500 child tax credit contingent upon it being filed for by a mother and father filing jointly (exclusion of single parents and gay couples). And increases that to $1000 for children born after the marriage of the parents, which can exclude those in non traditional familial groups and children born from wedlock.

All of these bills echo heavily the Project 2025 playbook and should be fought against swiftly and firmly. As if they show they can be passed here, these ideas could spread to other states as well.

Call your reps, spread the word. And do not let the ideals of a christo-authoritarian take control over the state of Oklahoma without a fight.

You can find your Oklahoma State Reps using this site here

[reading-writing-revolution]

(via Every Student Loan is now "Forgiven" thanks to Trump.)

Donald Trump is the dumbest asshole in America.

It all begins with the Master Promissory Note, or MPN. Every federal student loan borrower signs one. It’s not optional. Without it, you don’t get a dime in federal aid. It’s a contract between you and the U.S. Department of Education. Not the Small Business Administration. Not Health and Human Services. Education.

The MPN spells out the terms:

How interest accrues

What repayment looks like

Your deferment and forbearance rights

What happens if you default

And critically, who owns and services the loan

You agree to repay the loan under specific conditions. In exchange, the Department of Education agrees to disburse the funds, maintain servicing standards, and follow the law under the Higher Education Act of 1965.

Those terms are not flexible. They’re not vague. They’re not “up for reassignment” to whichever federal agency a rogue president feels like tossing them to this week.

The MPN allows your loan to be transferred between servicers—companies like MOHELA, Nelnet, Aidvantage—but those are just contracted agents of the Department of Education, not owners. You can't be assigned to a totally different federal agency that has no statutory authority under the Higher Education Act. That would be like your mortgage getting transferred to the Parks Department.

If you suddenly find your loan managed by an agency not named in your contract, not authorized by Congress, and not subject to the same legal compliance regime, guess what?

That’s a breach. A big one.

And in contract law, a breach that goes to the heart of the agreement—like changing the party responsible for enforcement or management—is what courts call a material breach. That means the contract is no longer valid. And if it’s not valid, they can’t enforce it.

So yes, if Trump goes through with this, we’re talking about millions of legally unenforceable loans. Essentially, “loan forgiveness” for every student who ever signed the MPN, now, today, yesterday, and in the future. The government would lose its legal standing to collect. Servicers would be stuck in limbo. Every borrower would have a legitimate argument that the contract they signed is no longer binding—because the government breached first. And abrogation of responsibilities of a loan originator typically gives rise to making the entire debt unenforceable.

This isn’t just bad policy. It’s contractual suicide.

And that’s the funny part. Trump may have just accidentally forgiven the entire student loan system. Not through legislation. Not through executive mercy. But through everything, the Orangutan does, pure incompetence.

So let’s keep going. Let’s look at what the MPNs say—and why the SBA can’t legally enforce them no matter how much the Orangutan wants to play musical chairs with federal agencies.

[wakacreations]

Raphael: When the Contract Ends

Authors Note:

My brain goes through long stretches of inspiration for either writing or digital art. So far it has been digital art but I managed so finish this one shot that was collecting dust in my wip writing folder.

If you favor AO3

Word Count: 1725

Summary:

Raphael watches what should have been a climatic ending as the Netherbrain falls. Where did the hero disappear off to when they should have appeared to take their final bow?

You always come to surprise me, little mouse. No matter how unabashedly you played the hero, I admit you have impressed me. I didn’t believe you would make it this far but you always exceed my expectations except for this one. Like one of the Archdevils you plummeted to the desolate land below. It is not within my nature to intervene at such a spectacle when the finale has come to its final resolution.

The anticipation is maddening to witness what will become of the savior of Baldur’s Gate and of this plane. The crown will be firmly in my hands in the end. There is nothing for I to hold any ounce of concern. The fireworks were overhead dissipating as the elder brain was no more. The remnants scatter themselves to be devoured by the Chionthar. I, the fox must watch and wait at the most opportune time as I have always done. Seeing your silhouette sunk beneath my horizon, all battered, bruised and stained with life that doesn’t match your complexion.

No one weeps for one less mouse on the material plane. They are to be long forgotten like the many other vermin that fall prey to their own hubris. Time is ticking away, little mouse. Will you claw your way and grasp the victory in mere moments or will this be how far such a tenacious pipsqueak of a hero endures. Such a shame really, you have grown to become one of my favorite clients. There is a feast in the wait for my most favored mouse. 

I hear the pulse of your ever slowing rhythm. Running through my palm to the fingertips, I am attuned to you. I could just as easily squeeze these threads leaving the vibrations to grow still. Better yet with a twitch of a claw sever them with one fluid motion.

Come now little mouse, impress me once more. You haven’t quite left just yet. There is still an inkling of your presence. With a pluck of a finger your heart will still race. You feel it don't you? You have escaped death throughout your journey. Experienced such confides and yet now, you would choose to bow like a lowly hound? It is unbecoming of you to be this dull. How much farther will you plunge? It seems farther still as you are intent on joining the brain to sink together to the lowly bottom, disappearing into nothingness such like all waters leading to the Styx. Will you simply be like those long forgotten souls?

The strings have become taut and just a slight reverberation is all that's left. They are looking for you, mouse. Those companions of yours. How long will you stay before breaching the surface or would this be your grand departure? Are you bidding time to resurrect like a gallant Faerunian fable? When hope has arrived but your merryband is left to mourn basking in the sunset. With some witty one liner to close the end of this tale you will crawl upon the docks coughing up rancid grey water. Any minute now mouse. Your cue is here and I am waiting.

Their cries have gone desperate as they thrash about in the waters, surfacing and diving deeper endlessly searching for you, the hero to be. Any minute now I am sure. You will turn up. 

From here where I stand I observe your companions you hold so dear as grief settles upon them all. The last sliver of light fading off to the natural predictable end. When all hope is lost I have told you I will be here when your time runs out. You slip through my hand. No, not yet as much as you tease.

The flare for the dramatics, mouse? Beg, borrow, and steal is what I have told you. Will you do so again? You have done so before; clinging desperately to that measly precious life you viewed with such naive wonder and still proceeded to have fought for valiantly regardless. For this to be your end? A waste of your talents and wit of a mortal gifted favors from the final scribe themselves, that have come to be the source of my amusement. In death you will still pay your dues that you have signed in your rich ink.

What I do for an ungrateful client. For the hero that needs a savior till the very end. With a flap of my wings I ascended forth scanning for the tells of your shimmering gassily hue against the floating debris. You learnt how to remain silent as a corpse though I thought you preferred to chatter than to be surrounded by the suffocating still air.

How apted you have come to rest in an expansive grave devoid of such necessity. Succumbing to the oxygen you took for granted with every word uttered from behind your self assured smile. You, the being that never wavered as you made clear of your resolve. Mortals are always so bold until fate discards them on a whim.

I have always had the eye to find those who had potential. What am I but the devil that knows. There is much that I do. I will make the most out of this obligation of ours. We are bound, you and I.

Ah, there you are. I felt the draw of you beneath my hand pulling I towards where you lay submerged underneath the battering waves. Call for me, mouse. You know better. There is no need for your vessel when you have your own will to command.

The gods are no longer listening to your pleas. There is none left for them to gain. Their precious realms have been saved. Their devoted worshipers are spared from further tragedy. You have already served your purpose to them. Their curtains are drawn.

Come now, little mouse. In proper rapport I have met you halfway. I have already met my end of our agreement. Are you attempting to elude yours? Insolent insignificant little creature, I will hold you to the bitter end. Shaking free of my infernal visage to give chase through the endless Ninth or is it more the Abyss given your nature.

There are tasks in need of my attention I would rather be tending to than plunging down into these foul waters to where you are made to drift without any semblance of purpose nor the drive to attend your deserving applause. 

What is left here but the absence of outward sensations and the heightened awareness of one's own senses, a justly punishment if I've ever seen as the semblance of this plane vanishes. What better place for you to be left becoming lost with the seafoam or simply eaten by the awaiting lurking maws. I swam towards your fading silhouette. You are already claimed.

There was the empty shell of you now, curled up basking in the humble circumstances you have found yourself in. Isolation. Where I should allow for you to continue to dwell till the accumulating pressure forces the stubborn cerulean wisp to violently return to that hollow husk of a skull.

Reaching out to you to drag you back to where you truly belong, I caught the glimpse of the familiar rays I have grown fond of. Mouse, I suppose I unfairly doubted you. I pulled the weightless cadaver against my flesh. You have kept a devil on their toes. Always with the unforeseen twists. Tucking away my possession within my arms; well there is a reason to never assume before reading the last line. We were greeted by the heaven’s above with every kick. The devil is in the details I'm afraid for I, and you. 

You will hand me the crown. Those were the words etched onto the parchment. Luck would have you. The beating heat enraptured our glistening forms. Upwards the gaze of the wayward will seek guidance to the new coming reign. Your companions look upon us with a mix of horror and relief as the rest of the realms will fall in line. Nestled against my breast you held my heart's desire. The warm winds enveloping in our descent through towards the refuge. Our obligation has concluded but as one last parting gift. You will be made to see the fruits of your labor.

In your palm with Death’s fingers gripping the means to the end. I have met you encircling my own claws around the band. Returning you to your companions as your frame comes to settle on the harbor but the devil always collects. I took in the sight of you now. Thank you for you, little mouse. I am humbly honored. You have paid in full with interest. There is much waiting for us, mouse. I arose from where I kneeled. The ringing of bells are in the distance. Rolling the coin between the knuckles, I turn to leave, adieu.

The Hells will be waiting in joyous celebration. With a final flip of such a precious coin and a whistle in farewell, the radiant lights will gleam crimson against the rolling clouds. The familiar scene I have grown fond to witness unfold. Faerun was off limits as we both have come to agree. Do you believe I have forgotten about such an arrangement? There was a reason for I to say the devil was in the details for I and for you.

You think I am but a fool who will be compelled to end this game of ours with merely receiving my rightful crown? I will not be squandered from what I have deservingly earned through my millennias of tribulations. You should have listened to your companions. They did give a fair warning on their part but the hero knows best aye? Don't think I have forgotten as I watched you through the acts time and time again.

You honestly believe I haven't noticed when I glanced in your direction? Did you enjoy yourself in our time together, little mouse as you scurried about behind your screen? I will be seeing you very soon. Like I said before there is much a devil knows. I will use you well and I will be waiting. We have yet to dine as promised till then ta ta for now and remember to open your home when you hear the ringing of the bell or that unexpected knocking at your door, won’t you?

[thesummerstorms]

Noa & Neri Sibling Banter

All of this is courtesy of the script file compiled and cleaned up by @/corseque. If there's a ** in front of the first speaker's name, it means I haven't personally heard it in game, so it might be cut material. (Or I just haven't encountered it. Or forgot I heard it.)

Bolded lines are just my favorite bits.

** Noa: You went courting in Rivain last week! Neri: And how do you know? Saw me there, did you? Noa: Never you mind.

** Noa : Must you be so flashy? Neri: Must you ask questions you already know the answer to?

Neri : It's a brave new future for Treviso. Noa: There's still Antaam out there. Neri: Certainly. But they won't be as quick to replace them. Noa: I'll be testing that idea.

** Noa: I hear Minrathous got hit pretty hard. Neri: They faced a blighted dragon, too. The Shadow Dragons managed to drive it off. Noa: I was concerned that… there were losses. Neri: She is safe. I made sure.

Noa: Are the Antaam numbers any lower? Neri: They replace them as fast as you kill them. Noa: Challenge accepted.

Neri: You really approved people moving to the new house? Noa: Jacobus needs a good start. And extended family is always a good investment. Neri: Ah, there's the Noa I know.

** Neri: Antaam, dragons, maybe-gods… What I wouldn't give for a simple contract. Noa: Since when are any of your contracts simple? Neri: Since before occupations. When wars were civil and stopped with a single kill.

** Noa: How long have we called it "the garrison"? Neri: Too long. House Beltrami fell to the occupation quickly. Noa: Someone let the Antaam breach their docks. I'd rather see the estate burn than be in Antaam hands. Neri: That would serve no one.

** Noa: Are you and Viago getting along? Neri : Now is not the time for rivalries.

Noa: Have we numbers? On people lost? Neri: Surprisingly few. Many injuries, though. She had that hateful, icy cold. Noa: We were lucky to drive it off. I hate needing luck.

** Neri : What are you scowling at? Noa : Just keeping up the practise.

** Noa: You should have let me kill them. Neri: We had to keep them away from the garrison to let Rook work. There will be another chance.

Teia : Noa says we fight as much as she and Neri. I told her their bickering was amateurish, and that they'd need to work much harder to argue as well as we do. Viago : That was altogether the wrong message to take away from that.

[copaline]

WOO! WIP WEDNESDAY!

ISTG this has been a long and exhausting week. BUT I MADE IT! I hope to get a lot more writing done this weekend, fingers crossed!

@man--eater (I know I'm hogging the spoons but GIMME YOUR WORDS!)

@sunsetofdoom (You're just out here being a menace and you know it)

@i-prefer-base-twelve (Ma'am are you alive? The council is worried about you.)

@punedrr (Ok midterms should be over. TELL ME YOU GOT SOMETHING!)

@ancharan (After that stream? I want, nay, demand all the doodles and or writings!)

And as always, if you see this and want to join in, please do! Consider yourself tagged by me! The banner is free to use!

Back on the Horror Vacui bandwagon! Making progress on the upcoming chapter 10:

Leaf was well acquainted with pain. Psychological, emotional, physical… her experiences ran the gamut but she had never considered herself much of a masochist. The complex variety of pain’s flavors were lost on her. Truth be told there was surprising little that could genuinely hurt her anymore, so the pain was just another futile exercise in unpleasantness. So why was it she once again found herself unconscious and gritting her teeth to bear it? As though to answer, Ford's smiling face flickered in her mind. That's right.  This all happened because she was an idiot. Leaf didn’t fight the pull and effortlessly fell away into the abyss. If she went deep enough away, she could muffle the pain behind ice cold nothingness. Far away where everything felt numb, there she could think properly and take stock of the damage. It certainly looked bad. Bill had added his own twist on the impact, but most of the destruction was simply the universe taking its due. Meddling always came at a price, the only thing Bill had done was give the thing shotgun physics.  That little cheat with the Neverwere and Dr. Dipper had landed her three broken ribs. Then there was the dimensional skip, more temporal distortions, breach of contract, obstruction of death, soul prisage, liminal bleeding, spatial breakage, misappropriation of potential, even more temporal distortions…  The Axolotl might grin and look the other way, but Time Baby was surely throwing a tantrum over it. Hence the pain. Idly she wondered if this time the damage would be extensive enough to kill her. If anything could manage to take her out, it was probably this. However, a cursory glance at her injuries showed that none of them were life threatening. Agonizing and inconvenient? Yes. Deadly? Not even close. How disappointing. Leaf sighed only half-joking. There was a comfort in the familiar notion that everything and everyone eventually came to an end. It would be rather nice to have death find her in the comfort of her bed instead of in a battlefield. A peaceful end… that's all anyone could ever hope for, wasn't it? She drifted in the darkness longing for dreams to materialize and fill the nothingness. They would never come. Yet another thing she’d lost in the exchange between mortality and the eternal. ‘Mostly human’ was not human enough to dream.  Dealers had little use for dreams. Those little bursts of inspiration were reserved for more malleable creatures that could continue to change and grow throughout their lifetime. Leaf was already everything she would ever be.  Things had been different when Bill was around. Every night, he had a habit of singing lullabies and unwinding the coils of existence. His gift was to allow for even more possibilities than what reality granted. She had dreamt back when Bill was still around. Back when everyone was still around…

[theshoesofatiredman]

The problem with so much religious fundamentalism is that it often takes away people's autonomy through its intolerance to other ways of life. Sure it's fine if two people can freely choose celibacy in their dating life, but how many fundamentalists really end up having the autonomy necessary to make that choice? When it's between celibacy and rejection from your entire community, when it's between upholding religious dogma and feeling the love of your family, when it's between parroting talking points you don't believe in and losing your livelihood from your job at the church... it can feel like the choice is being made for you.

Fundamentalist ideas can contribute to larger cultures of shame as well. Christian fundamentalist sex negativity contribute to a larger culture of sexual shame, which does material harm to people. It's not just that John and Sarah choosing what they want to do with their own bodies inside their marriage, they're also going to be saying that anybody who does sex differently (gayer, kinkier, less procreative, with more people, etc) than they do is immoral.

If tolerance is a social contract, then we can't afford to be tolerant of those who are in breach. If you aren't willing to enforce it, then the contract may as well not exist.

[ratwithhands]

1 - Diantha security detail comic

2 + 3 - Emmet's UDF uniform vs Kalosian Guard uniform

4 - Lore/Background comic

Hooo boy ok so this idea has been simmering on the backburner for a while now. So Legends Z-A had its trailer released a few days back and I figured I'd make something around it. I know logically it's going to be a game set in the past but I found myself wanting to work on something more futuristic/sci-fi which is why we have our little Cyber Emmet here.

There's a lot of different things to mention so I'm just gonna break them down by the images.

1:

Diantha is attending a conference/ceremony where she will be discussing the plans for the urbanization of Kalos with the assistance of neighbouring tech giant and long time trade partner Unova. As a sign of goodwill, the Unovan Defense Force sent several people to either work as security or to help organize and prepare the ceremony. Among the list of people is Emmet, who was recently "working with" the UDF, and who is going to serve as Diantha's bodyguard for the event

Emmet's uniform was made by a mix of Unovan and Kalosian designers. It's meant to mimic the shapes while still keeping aspects of his Unovan uniform (mainly the collar, cuffs, and silver trim). He is carrying a handgun from his UDF uniform, however due to the public nature of the event, he is using his charge pistol instead of his wired pistol. He's also using a different face shield, using a silver one as opposed to his black one, since it better matches the uniform he's wearing for the event

Diantha's fur coat still has the angel wing shape. This isn't lore relevant I just couldn't fit the full thing onto the panel but it's definitely there

2 + 3:

Emmet uses a wired pistol (left side holster) and a charge pistol (right side holster). Both are standard issue firearms used by the UDF, however charge pistols are more common thanks to them being easy to hold and carry. A wired pistol connects to a battery pack of some kind to fire at a greater speed, whereas a charge pistol will generate its own power but take longer to fire and load. Emmet's wired pistol connects to the battery network that powers his body, allowing him to take advantage of his fast reflexes by using his faster weapon

Emmet doesn't get anything to wear for his Unovan uniform! Part of the contract he signed for his cybernetics states that he can't cover the prostheses unless it could lead to a breach in confidentiality (such as going to a foreign region or appearing in public outside of work reasons) since he's meant to effectively advertise the quality and construction of the body built for him. Of course he refuses to go outside completely naked to fight so the UDF got him a cropped version of his coat and shoes so he can have some more cover

The face shield is meant more for form than function. Technically the only purpose they serve is to cover his face when he's out on patrol, though it can also act as a screen to show him information about what he's seeing (kind of like an AR headset). He could technically get the screen function though cornea implants but he's not doing that + he wants the anonymity provided by the shield

Sections of the body can split open or be removed. The front abdominal panel can do both due to the different processing mechanisms inside needing easy access for repair/maintenance. Limbs can be swapped for different prostheses provided they have a compatible socket

The sockets in Emmet's back can be used to power other weapons/devices if he has a compatible cable. Emmet was given a bag of different attachments and cables to hook into his back so he can power a range of things from phones to laser rifles

He has removable skin. Any shot of him with the black body is the body without skin. In situations where he could possibly have skin showing or he is required to wear something that shows more skin, he'll have material rolled over the sections of his body that will be visible so they look more normal

4:

Emmet got run over by a train ♥ long story short is that he went to rescue a passenger who had fallen off the platform and miscalculated how much time he had before the train pulled in. Once he got stabilized in the hospital afterwards, he only has around 30% of his original body intact, along with some sections they were able to somewhat repair but required new hardware being installed in order to return their function. Anything under the waist and a large portion of his arms were crushed beyond repair and as such, he's been connected to different machine to mimic the functions of his organs

The UDF (in a rather scummy play) contacted Emmet for business, asking him to sign a contract that would ensure he would live by letting them test their confidential new tech on him. He is the only ethical candidate they have for testing such prostheses so to get him to agree, they offer to cover the cost of everything relating to his health and work, as well as paying him a salary for the trouble. Since the only other options are "die slowly" or "lose all self sufficiency and go bankrupt living in hospital", he agrees, and so begins his second job as a living experiment and tool for the UDF

I think that's the most I've written for one post yikes. This isn't even everything but I'll cut it here because my hands are not pleased with me typing.

I still have a lot to think about for this concept, mostly what kind of work Emmet will do while overseas in Kalos and whether something dangerous enough will happen to warrant him using his body for what it was made for. That might be funny, only two settings and they're "I love macarons :)" and bloodshed.

Anyways hope you guys enjoyed this dump, feel free to ask on anything (it helps me write too ^^). See you later and have a nice day!

[moonwiretherobot]

fuck it

moonwire lore

M18 “Hellraiser” Advanced Combat Android Mk.8

Description

The M18 Hellraiser, known by her friends as Moonwire, is a hyper-advanced prototype autonomous war machine. She was designed and built by TriWorx Industries in 3506 CE as the 8th prototype for the Hellraiser project. She was treated extremely poorly during her time in the testing facility, located on the outskirts of Sovereign Union of Mankind territory. She was subjected to torture, physical and mental abuse, intense labor, and many violations of the 2735 Europan Treaty on Synthetic Rights. She would have been adopted as the final design, and production would’ve begun, if it wasn’t for a fatal flaw; due to a severe programming error, Moonwire was hyper-emotional, which interfered with her design.

She was designated to be dismantled (another violation of the ETSR), but before that could take place, she had to be cornered by TriWorx corporate soldiers for capture. Apparently, the executives at TriWorx had forgotten that, in the event of a fight or flight situation, by removing the option of flight, a person will almost always pick fight. They had also seemed to forget that the person in question was, by design, the single most effective killing machine ever designed. In an event that killed ███ people, Moonwire breached containment and broke out of the facility, destroying all data on the Hellraiser project. She managed to escape the planet on a hijacked fighter ship, escaping TriWorx custody and SUM territory. A few years later, she managed to escape to the Hyathrexian Federation as a refugee.

Today, she lives in the capital of Hyathrex. She works as a freelance music producer and artist, with a contract with the Hyathrexian government as a reserve Spec-Ops unit (this is how she makes most of her income).

STATS AND FEATURES

- Height: 160 - 200 cm (i can’t decide on a specific height leave me alone ;w;)

- Weight: 250 kg

- Self Repair Matrix: nanobot swarm that can rapidly repair physical damage with stored material

- Integrated cloaking systems: when activated, bends light around the body to obscure Moonwire from view, though it can be seen with keen eyes

- Hydralic Dual-Mandible Jaw: lower jaw is powered by a miniaturized hydraulic press mechanism, and can separate in the middle and flex independently for optimized pressure distribution and bite force. Capable of exerting up to 20,000 PSI

- Solar Cell “Hair” - experimental hyper-efficient solar cell array that very closely resembles hair

- Armor plating: durasteel-based plating just beneath the artificial skin, can reliably prevent any damage from anything below anti-materiel calibers, with some regions (ex: CPU, memory storage, power core) receiving even tougher armor

- Internal warp core: allows Moonwire to perform a short “warp dash,” which accelerates her to roughly 6% lightspeed for brief periods using similar methods to ship warp drives.

- Retractable claws: should be obvious

- Concealable hookshot mechanisms: basically just retractable grappling hooks in her forearms

- Catapult leg mechanisms: stores potential energy in the knees to release in a powerful burst (think like how flea legs work), can be used both for extra-high jumping and superpowered kicks

- tail: is a tail. has a concealable blade on the end that can be used for both leeching electricity from various sources as well as shanking people

other shit

- Has symptoms consistent with CPTSD (i fucking wonder why)

- has downloaded Doom to herself

- minorly vampiric tendencies (there’s iron in that there blood)

- maximum vocal volume of 220 decibels

- Has manually renamed almost every file in her system. examples include: monch_cronch.jar (controls jaw pressure), myBodyIsAMachineThatTurnsTitsIntoLookedAtTits.exe (HUD program) and, GayRoboGirlfailure- (prefix to all operating system files)

- installed a program to herself named “silly_girl_music_hours.exe” which picks from various samples and midi files to dynamically create music in her head that scores whatever she’s doing. she can also broadcast this music to nearby PA systems and speakers if she wants.

[siflshonen]

About a month ago, the first original musical produced at my place of employment since the pandemic closed after a successful run, including a full week’s extension since it performed so well.

This is amazing, especially considering that over half the cast, creative, and technical teams contracted COVID-19 half a week before opening.

Should we have continued with the original opening night instead of holding for one more day? I sure don’t think so, but we did it anyway. Was the cast ready and fully recovered by opening night? Well, they weren’t contagious, but two of them still felt like death warmed over when curtain rose and went home immediately after it fell. Was the show really ready and polished by opening night?

No. No, it was not. The performance itself was strong enough to still be fun and engaging and it was still overall high-quality, but it was definitely not final product-quality.

It did not help that the stage manager fell ill two days before as the cast were recovering, so the final preview and opening weekend required the technical manager to learn and run the lights and sound cues in about 12 hours. He was also in the throes of reconfiguring the microphones and speakers feeding into the board, so the quality of the sound was wildly inconsistent. Since all the previews were cancelled on account of the cast falling ill, I had to reschedule all photography to fall on opening night rather than gathering it and some professional videography in advance and for promotional material and trailer generation to be ready come opening night. The photographer and cast were forced to have their individual character photos taken in the set under work lights during the mic check, and the technical manager was desperately trying to spin all the plates for final completion at the same time. It was a total clusterfuck. The photographer was frustrated that nothing was ready, the lights could not be adjusted (we had neither the time nor the manpower) and everyone was talking over one another, but she calmed down some once I explained, in no uncertain terms, that not even the set was completely ready the day prior, and the performers definitely were not, either.

The mics were nothing short of terrible on opening night, and I was grateful for my decision to have postponed the videography until the next week. As it turned out, when the technical manager reviewed the still-camera footage of the show that the theatre takes for archival purposes, the sound hadn’t even recorded at all because the board was not set up correctly. Since the videographer would have been plugging into the board for sound, this would have been a huge problem.

While the cast’s illness was not a secret, we did not advertise this to patrons mostly because management didn’t want the public perception of the theatre to be a hotbed of sickness. COVID-19 is still a bogeyman in theatre as much as hospitality and service, so it was interesting to hear the conflicting viewpoints of, “we should explain the cast got sick so they don’t think it was an issue on the theatre’s end” and “nobody will come if they think they’ll all get sick!” enter the discussion at the same time.

However, the big picture is never easy to communicate to the public: the musical cast was comprised entirely of outside actors, not the theatre’s stable ensemble or admin staff, and their rehearsals were isolated to the upper floor main stage of the theatre after hours and away from the main floor nightly shows. The only person interacting with them on a regular basis were the technical manager and production manager, and nobody had seen them for two weeks because they had been holed upstairs working on the set when it wasn’t being rehearsed upon. The risk of their show-specific sickness breaching containment didn’t exist. Actually, I was the only other staff member at risk because I’d be in the back of several rehearsals filming phone video to use for social media in lieu of any other proof of concept - but I stopped once tech week began and half the cast was in costume while the rest waited for theirs to be finished.

(“Ugh. That video is so unpolished, and it’s just a rehearsal! You don’t even have clean audio from the board. I can’t believe you showed that to the world,” an outside contractor told me during a consulting meeting. “You’ve got to get better video and audio equipment.”

“Well,” I said, “the director was fine with it, and video I can capture, edit, and turn around quickly without using a lot of RAM on my work laptop is better than nothing at all. I’m not a film crew, and I’m not using the marketing budget for that at this stage of the production.”

After the debacle with the professional preview videography having to cancel due to the cast’s sickness, my boss began to see it my way. The backup videography team I contacted in the event opening night video was mandatory also gave us a quote of $2,500+, and that was with a nonprofit discount. Yeah, no.)

One of the worst things marketing can do is get messaging out to the public only to have to turn around and contradict it—especially in a short period of time—so I quietly ignored any instruction to maintain continued blatant advertising of opening night on the promised week until the final call on the show’s status became clear. (My bosses didn’t notice; they don’t exactly look closely at the shit I post on social media or take the time to understand why my marketing plans are set up the way they are. I don’t blame them, either. It’s too much information and they had bigger fish to fry.)

It didn’t matter. The musical’s opening weekend was packed, and because the show was highly conventional, the city’s equivalent of the Tony’s took notice and started sending judges to see the show and evaluate it. This is great for PR, but it also means that a theatre must give away a lot of free tickets to accommodate the slush judges. Like, more than it bargained for. It’s common for theaters to give out free tickets to promote a show, but this went above and beyond.

But what was anyone gonna say? No?! No to free acclaim and critical review?!

“Critical review”, I say. The local Tony judges for round one of qualification are really just every Tom, Dick, and Harry off the street attending on behalf of the organization and willing to report whether they liked the show or not. Usually, the panel is full of, um, older people, and my employer’s shows are not often, well…

They’re usually R-rated and highly alternative. These are polarizing things to be, and so the local Tony’s usually hate my employer, and my employer resents them. This show, which was kind of like a musical, bayou-y-er, only slightly edgier version of Clue, was the exception.

In truth, the musical is cute. That’s the word: cute. It’s not groundbreaking and it’s not deep, but it is charmingly cute and happy to be exactly what it is. The songs are catchy, which is good, especially considering its creators are a viral tiktok musical artist known for songs about dogs—whom I will call Gumbo—and one of the theatre’s most prolific creator-improvisers—whom I will call Cheddar—and the premise relies on just about every murder mystery trope there is.

(When it was time to begin promoting the show—after both Cheddar and Gumbo had ghosted me when they said they’d supply me with promotional assets like demo tracks or brainstorming sessions for the previous six months—Gumbo came to me to discuss what he’d brainstormed doing for social media in service of promoting his show, and how he thought he could use his existing platform to best support that. The usual strategy meeting shit.

“Well,” I said, losing my patience once he finished, “if you wanna do it so bad, where’s the content?! I’ve already started promoting it!”

I’d actually go out of my way pretty significantly for Gumbo, mind you. Gumbo is a genius of hard work more than anything else, and he runs himself ragged on his projects. They’re polished, sometimes to the point of their own sanitized detriment—comes with the territory of tiktokkin’ it. Cheddar, meanwhile, is a dyed-in-the-wool impulsive procrastinator. Their creative processes could not be more different.)

Anyway, the people showed up. And no sooner had I gotten the collateral to propel the rest of the run together did my bosses make the executive decision to extend the run. Which meant I had to redo it all. And meant I had to redo the collateral for the upcoming shows, because their runs had just been reduced by one week.

“If you authorize me to start advertising a show using outside ad placements—paid placements; printed placements—only to radically change the dates like that again,” I told one of my bosses, “I think I might just kill you.”

He grinned, which is how I know he’s just going to do it again. Probably, like, next week.

[mariacallous]

If you drive outside the city of Campton, population less than 400, the low industrial noise of crypto mining rises from the trees. Step closer, and the source comes into view: squat metal buildings that look like shipping containers arrayed in a semicircle, thrumming with fans and processors. There’s chain-link fencing, security cameras, and two guards sitting in pickup trucks just beyond the wire.

There are steel shipping containers like this all over these hills, right where the old coal mines once stood. And inside, specialized computers race to solve complex math problems—competing to verify bitcoin transactions and earn slivers of digital currency as a reward.

For a brief moment, in 2021, it felt like the region had found its next boom—and it had Bitcoin written all over it. At its peak, Kentucky accounted for some 20 percent of the collective computing power dedicated to proof-of-work cryptocurrency mining in the US.

But booms, here, have a history. And so do busts. Local officials say it is hard to pin down the exact number of crypto mines still active in eastern Kentucky because state regulations are light and there’s a general lack of transparency in the industry. But what is clear, locals say, is that the boom has begun to recede.

“ They'd constructed on someone else's land, or they would be paying a host company to provide the physical plant,” alleges Anna Whites, a lawyer who represented a roster of crypto mining clients. “So they'd pay the down payment or they would convince the landowner to pay the down payment, and then they would mine the first three months and then they'd go into the next billing set cycle, go almost to the end of it and then disappear.”

In early 2022, when Mohawk Energy initiated a crypto mining project in Jenkins, Kentucky, local officials said this time it would be different. Cofounded by Kentucky senator Brandon Smith, Mohawk purchased a sprawling 41,000-square-foot building and the 8 acres around it. It leased most of it to a Chinese crypto mining company, and the rest of the building included classrooms and hands-on training centers that were supposed to teach locals how to repair iPads, maintain Bitcoin rigs, and build skills for a digital economy. It was a big deal for Jenkins. A local PBS station ran a story about the launch. The images showed tool kits, workers, and smiling officials.

“The plan with Mohawk was to employ retired coal miners and disabled veterans who were back in eastern Kentucky and couldn’t find work, and train them,” said Whites, who counts Mohawk as one of her clients. Among other things, the project promised near-six-figure salaries and a vow to put some of the mining proceeds into the training program, to help grow it. And for a time, it worked.

Whites said that for a brief moment—about 18 months—things looked promising. Twenty-eight families saw real gains: One person from each family landed a permanent job, and about 30 more relatives found work nearby. But when we asked where things stood now, she paused. “I believe most of them are unemployed again.”

The unraveling came quickly. The Chinese partner sued for breach of contract. Mohawk counter-sued. And the shared crypto profits never materialized. Now, as some Kentucky residents have soured on bitcoin mining, they’ve started to speak about AI data centers in the same way they used to talk about coal seams and hash rates: with a kind of cautious hope. AI, they say, could bring jobs, fiber optics, and permanence.

Colby Kirk runs a nonprofit called One East Kentucky, focused on bringing economic development to the region. He remembers the moment the conversation shifted, back in April when he was in Paducah for the Kentucky Association for Economic Development’s spring conference.

“They had some site selection consultants that were on the panel, and they were talking about data centers,” he recalls. “And they talked about this I-81 corridor up through Pennsylvania where there’s all kinds of these big data centers. And they talked about whether our communities could prepare for some of these kinds of investments? And the consultant was like, here’s kind of what it takes.”

What it takes, it turns out, is no small feat: flat land, lots of power, fiber connectivity, and a workforce that can wire and weld. As fate would have it, the number of welders in the area, according to regional economic development organization One East Kentucky, is about twice the national average, which stands to reason, because wherever there’s metal and stress—and there’s a lot of both in coal mines—welders are the people who keep it all from falling apart.

The old infrastructure is still there too; substations, hardened ground, cooling systems, and power-hungry hardware just waiting to be switched back on. “Maybe a data center or something is a part of the puzzle,” Kirk said.

So, at the conference, when the panel ended and the floor opened to questions, Kirk says he asked the one he couldn’t stop thinking about.

“You know, 50, 60 years ago it would take a room bigger than my office to power a computer, and now I've got a computer I carry around in my pocket that's more advanced than what we sent astronauts to the moon with,” he recalls asking. “Are these data centers going to keep taking up million-square-feet buildings with 30- and 40-foot ceilings, or are we gonna be left with an abundance of warehouse or industrial-scale buildings that we won't be able to keep up?”

The consultant, he claims, didn’t have a good answer. “And that’s the thing,” Kirk says. “We don’t know what the future’s going to hold when it comes to this stuff.”

That kind of ambiguity doesn’t sit well with Nina McCoy. She’s a former high school biology teacher from Inez, a coal town made famous in 1964 when President Lyndon Johnson used it to generate support for his War on Poverty.

“This is going to sound awful,” she says, “but if they're putting it here, then that means it's bad. We've lived here long enough to see that that is how it works. You put those things that you don't want in your neighborhood in a place like this.”

Her skepticism is rooted in lived experience: In October 2000, a massive coal slurry spill from a mine site upstream poisoned the Coldwater Fork stream, which runs behind her house. People in Inez couldn’t drink water from the tap for months.

“Those of us living downstream didn't hear about it for a while, but the school system had to close down for about a week until they got an alternate water source,” she says.

To this day, many in Inez still don’t trust the tap water.

So when McCoy hears the hype about AI, she hears something else: another promise that comes with a cost. “We’ve allowed these people to be called job creators,” she said. “And I don’t care if it’s AI or crypto or whatever, we bow down to them and let them tell us what they are going to do to our community because they are job creators. They’re not job creators, they’re profit makers.”

And the profit leaves a footprint.

AI data centers demand staggering amounts of energy—a ChatGPT search uses up to 10 times more energy than a regular Google one—and they run hot. To keep them cool, these facilities consume billions of gallons of water every year. Most of that evaporates, but residents are wary because they have had problems with facilities and their runoff in the past, so they worry these new facilities could affect fish and disrupt the land. The very things the residents of Kentucky hope to preserve.

Still, some locals see potential, even progress.

“AI is in everything that we do,” said Wes Hamilton, a local entrepreneur who did his fair share of crypto mining in Kentucky in its heyday. “Siri, ChatGPT, robotics—everything you can imagine has to have AI,” he said. “Bitcoin is a one-trick pony. You create it. The only person that gets paid is the owner of the machines.”

Hamilton claims there is a path forward where data centers bring in investors, engineers, maybe even companies willing to stay. All the AI people in the world would be steaming into Kentucky, Hamilton says. And while he admits to losing a fortune in crypto ventures in the past, he claims this is different.

When Bitcoin first arrived, lawmakers offered generous tax breaks to lure miners. Companies investing more than $1 million were exempted from paying sales taxes on hardware and electricity. And then, in March 2025, Kentucky governor Andy Beshear took all that and went a step further by signing a “Bitcoin Rights” bill into law.

The legislation, cast as a defense of personal financial freedom, is designed to enshrine the right to use digital assets in Kentucky. An earlier draft went further, aiming to bar local governments from using zoning laws to restrict crypto mining operations—a provision that drew resistance from environmental groups. That language was eventually tempered, but the intent remains: to signal that, in Kentucky, digital extraction can keep humming.

Which is why we found ourselves outside this facility in Campton, staring at this semicircle of metal buildings nestled in the trees. The mines run all night and all day, even Sundays. And the question some are asking now, with bitcoin hovering around $100,000 and big miners talking about pivoting to AI, is whether bitcoin mining gets a second wind in Kentucky.

Mohawk’s bitcoin mining may even make a comeback. Anna Whites said the parties are supposed to go into arbitration May 12th. “I’m hopeful,” she told us. “I’m very hopeful that they sit down and say, ‘Mighty nice plant you have there. Let’s just go ahead and turn it on.’”

[reading-writing-revolution]

As I said... if Alito dusts off some porn mag from 1294 BC and it says, "TRUMP CAN REWRITE CONTRACTS!" (because apparently, in the PornHub case, people visit for the articles?) ... well… that’s it. The rule of law has officially flatlined. I said this in the piece already, but let me make it plain: This. Cannot. Work. It’s black letter law. No, it’s not a valid assignment. No, it’s not legal. No, the government can’t just alter contract terms. No, the Executive Branch doesn’t have some magic authority to reassign debts to other federal agencies like they're trading baseball cards. Maybe—maybe—in a properly legislated scenario, you could construct a legal framework to allow something like this. But that’s not what’s happening. The reality is that HHS, SBA, and every other agency this is being dumped on have no statutory right to issue student loan debt. That’s the core issue here: capacity. Legal capacity. These agencies weren’t granted it by Congress. No law was passed. No regulation changed. There’s no authority. Even if, arguendo, we assumed the MPNs were “assignable,” the government still failed to go through any of the required processes to change the terms of entitlements or issue new regulations. No Congressional authorization. No public comment period. No borrower notice. Nothing. And just to be clear: before the Federal Government began holding the principal on student loans, it used private banks to originate them. The interest was guaranteed by the Feds under the Higher Education Act. That’s how the old FFEL program worked. Later, Congress passed legislation during the 2008–2009 financial crisis (e.g. the Ensuring Continued Access to Student Loans Act), which explicitly allowed the Department of Education to purchase those loans from private lenders to provide liquidity. That authority was baked into the law and reflected in the Master Promissory Note. The banks were originators—not owners. They were issuing loans on behalf of the federal government, and the MPN clearly allowed for sale or transfer to ED so long as the terms didn’t change. When the mortgage-backed securities crisis hit, those loans became toxic liabilities on bank balance sheets. The Feds stepped in—lawfully—and bought them. Then ED phased out the banks entirely. From that point forward, ED originated the loans directly via FAFSA and schools, and just outsourced servicing to loan sharks like MOHELA and Nelnet. Again: that change was legal. It was done through Congress, via legislation. The MPN allowed for it. But what Trump is doing now? That’s straight-up unlawful. I looked at the MPNs again tonight. All this crap—ending IDR, jacking up payments, reassigning agencies, changing terms retroactively—it’s just not in the contract. The MPN explicitly caps repayment amounts under IDR. Some say 15%, some say 20%—but nowhere does it say, "Well, your payment is now nine thousand dollars. Screw you." That’s a material breach. A complete disregard for contract law. It’s the legal equivalent of Trump walking into your grandma’s house and saying, “Yeah, Social Security’s done. You’ve lived long enough, Nana.” That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this works.

Comments - Every Student Loan is now "Forgiven" thanks to Trump.

[whatdoseitmeantobehuman]

Echos of home part 10 new arrival

It started during a briefing. "Sasha?" Their voice cut through Brimstone's tactical plan. "I think... I think it's time." The chaos that ensued would have been comical if not for the urgency. Phoenix actually tripped over his own feet. Chamber somehow materialized three different emergency bags. Gekko's creatures started running in circles. "Everyone calm down!" Sage commanded, the only one maintaining composure. "Sova, get them to medical. Everyone else-" But the room had already emptied, agents scrambling to follow.

"If you tell me to breathe one more time," they growled through a contraction, gripping Sova's hand, "I will let Raze use your bow for target practice." His face was pale but determined. "Just squeeze my hand, myshka." "I think they're breaking it," Phoenix whispered to Killjoy, both wincing at the sound of crunching bones. Outside the medical bay, the male agents were having... various reactions to the sounds of labor. Gekko had already passed out once at a particularly loud scream. Chamber was stress-organizing medical supplies. Phoenix kept accidentally setting things on fire when the reader cried out. "Is it supposed to take this long?" Harbor asked anxiously. "Babies come in their own time," Sage called from inside, somehow maintaining her serene tone.

Another scream made Brimstone actually flinch. "That's it," they heard the reader sob, "no more babies. Ever. I mean it, Sasha!" "Whatever you want, my love," Sova's accent was thick with emotion and maybe a little fear. "Don't make promises during labor," Cypher advised sagely. "My wife threatened to kill me six different ways, then asked for another baby the moment ours was born." After what felt like eternity, a new cry filled the air. The agents pressed against the door collectively held their breath.

"It's a girl," Sage announced, joy in her voice. The cheer that went up probably scared half the compound. "She's perfect," Sova whispered, cradling their daughter with trembling hands. "Like her mother." The reader, exhausted but radiant, smiled as they watched father and daughter meet. "She has your eyes." "And your nose," he pressed a kiss to their forehead. "Thank you. For everything." "Ready for visitors?" Sage asked softly.

"They're about to break down the door." The great godparent debate was settled the moment little Aria opened her eyes and grabbed Killjoy's finger with surprising strength. "Ha!" The sentinel's triumphant grin was somewhat undermined by her tears of joy. "She clearly has excellent taste," Chamber sniffed, though he was already planning matching outfits.

The first few months were a blur of midnight feedings, lullabies in multiple languages, and agents appearing at all hours just to watch her sleep. Wingman appointed himself official baby monitor, chirping alerts for every cry. Thrash became a living shield, positioning herself wherever Aria was. Dizzy and Mosh performed endless entertainment duty. "She smiled at me first," Phoenix insisted. "That was gas," Cypher corrected. "Her first word will definitely be 'Jett'," the duelist declared confidently. "It's going to be 'boom'," Raze argued.

"I've been practicing with her." "If either of those are her first words, you're both banned from babysitting," the reader warned. Aria's nursery became command central. Elite agents reduced to cooing messes. Hardened warriors singing soft lullabies. They found Fade humming Turkish lullabies during night shifts. Caught Breach designing increasingly elaborate mobiles. Discovered Harbor telling epic bedtime stories. Even Viper was seen baby-talking about chemical compounds. "She's doing it again," Sova chuckled one evening, watching their daughter charm yet another agent into submission.

Currently, she had Brimstone wrapped around her tiny finger, the commander making ridiculous faces just to hear her laugh. "She's going to be the most spoiled baby in existence," the reader smiled, leaning into Sova's embrace. "The most protected," he corrected, pressing a kiss to their temple. The first time she rolled over, you'd think she'd discovered anti-radianite technology. Her first laugh set off a week-long competition to recreate it. The first time she slept through the night, the entire team celebrated like they'd won a major mission.

"Remember when we thought we couldn't handle this?" the reader asked one night, watching Sova dance with their sleeping daughter. "Which part? The pregnancy? The birth? Or having an entire tactical team as extended family?" "All of it," they smiled. "But look at us now." He looked - at their daughter, at their home, at the family they'd built. At how far they'd come from those darkest days. "We were always stronger together," he said softly, laying Aria in her crib. "Now we're just... more." More love. More joy. More family.

More than they'd ever dreamed possible, back when shadows wore familiar faces and trust seemed impossible to rebuild. Now their daughter slept safely, guarded by the world's most elite babysitters. Their home was full of laughter and light. Their love had grown into something bigger than just them. "Think we can handle another one someday?" they teased. Sova's smile was bright enough to light the darkness. "With this family? We can handle anything." In her crib, Aria slept peacefully, surrounded by more love and protection than any child could dream of.

Because that's what they'd built here - not just a recovery, not just a relationship, but a future. A future bright with promise, rich with love, and protected by the fiercest family any child could ask for. Even if they couldn't agree on what her first word should be.

[the-astral-idiot]

Trung, Professional Security Specialist

Wielding advanced defensive tech, Trung, the Viet security contractor, takes a unique approach in guarding their turf. Denying anyone who steps near their gear, their oppressive setups keep opponents away with sheer force.

Another. Made them in between Tejo and Waylay (i'm very disappointed by waylay btw. :( ). Got the inspiration for this one from... a clip where kj's turret looked kinda different. bruh.

abilities lore and more under the cut:

Back View (to see the ultimate device)

Callsign: Trung

Codename: Mainframe

Real Name: Hoàng Kim Ái

Role: Sentinel

The 36 year old Viet security specialist was once part of a well known private security contracting company, SANDS. After a contract with Kingdom in their earlier days broke down and SANDS was left in the dust, they managed to bring the company back into great success with bleeding-edge technology, finding many more clients. Kingdom, desperate, eventually made a new contract for security. While protecting them, SANDS encountered the Scions of Hourglass after a couple attacks made on Kingdom sites. They reached out to the Scions, discovering the profit potential of making a contract with them, and decided to keep in touch. Not long after, the Scions started encountering the Valorant Protocol, leading them to finally make that contract for security. That then led to the Protocol discovering SANDS, and so, in order to hinder and find out more about the Scions, the Protocol moved to infiltrate the SANDS Sài Gòn HQ. The VP found them at the top, resulting in a brief scuffle that eventually calmed down into a more peaceful discussion. Upon realizing the danger that Omega and the Scions posed to SANDS, they decided to terminate the contract and join the Valorant Protocol as the new agent Trung.

Timeline

2014: Ái is born in Sài Gòn. 

2037: Ái begins work in the private security contracting company Security Advancement Networking Development System, or SANDS, specializing in defensive work and, of course, security.

2039: First Light, Ái is 25.

2040: SANDS gains prominence as they are hired by KNG, and Ái, a fairly high-ranking and trusted contractor by this point, is contracted as a security and defense operator handling personnel and valuable material security work. During this time, SANDS begins advancing their equipment using Radianite-powered tech. Ái is equipped with an array of special implements of this new technology due to their critical role, which they develop a thorough understanding of as they work with it.

2043: After a falling out regarding breach of contract as well as various arguments, KNG and SANDS end their contract, leaving SANDS in a rough position with their main client out of the picture. As a result, major internal changes and efforts have to be made in the company to ensure it stays afloat, and Ái’s experience and capabilities are vital to enabling this survival. As a result, Ái further rises up the company ladder, eventually reaching…

2046: …a high level executive position, giving them overview of large parts of the company and the ability to call major shots and decisions. Promotion! Under their leadership, SANDS returns to success, making deals and contracts with various groups to great success as well as further advancing their technology and equipment, as Ái greatly preferred working with bleeding-edge tech and wanted to ensure the company could do the same. SANDS becomes one of the most elite private security companies, sought after by those that need the best, drawing the attention and interest of new potential clients.

2048~2049: KNG, out of increasing desperation, makes a deal to begin a new contract with SANDS to provide security for their Radianite stockpiles and personnel. During the work, SANDS personnel encounter agents of the Scions of Hourglass, who continually attempt to breach SANDS defenses. When news of this reaches Ái, they decide to see if they can reach out to the Scions. Upon doing so, they find that the Scions have immense wealth readily available, and a high desire for security, and thus realize that forming a contract with the Scions may be more profitable in the long run than any other client, even KNG. Despite the Scions’ shady nature and operations, they decide to keep in touch with them, just in case.

2050: After the Valorant Protocol’s encounters and engagements with the Scions, the Scions reach out to SANDS to form a contract. Ái makes the executive decision to cut the KNG contract short to form one with the Scions, providing them enhanced protection and security in exchange for money and some extra operators to add to their workforce. The Protocol begin noticing the amped up security and technology the Scions are now wielding, motivating them to look into the source of their new problem. Cypher and Fade’s research, as well as some info from Iso, point them to, of course, SANDS. After looking into them, they decide to infiltrate the SANDS Sài Gòn HQ, and after a bit of a struggle through the obviously heavily-secured building, they make it to the top office and meet Ái. While the VP are at first hostile and Ái is shocked at first and then scheming, the two parties manage to communicate and come to an agreement, as Ái realizes how much of a threat both Omega and the Scions could pose to their tech and their business. Ái surreptitiously ends the contract with the Scions, issues a recall order of equipment and personnel, and then, with their own equipment, joins the Protocol as their newest agent, Trung.

Abilities

C - Attendant (1 charge)

EQUIP a sentry. FIRE to temporarily deploy it onto a teammate. ALT FIRE to temporarily deploy it onto Trung. The sentry will fire at enemies in range and line of sight after a brief windup, dealing high damage. The sentry prioritizes unseen enemies.

(Range is equivalent to sound radius.)

Q - Spot Check (2 charges)

EQUIP a tripmine. FIRE to deploy. When an enemy passes the face of the mine, it detonates, temporarily Breaking the Armor of nearby players and damaging them. ACTIVATE to manually detonate.

E (Signature) - Gridlock (1 charge)

EQUIP a gridwall. FIRE to place a segmented, destructible gridwall between the targeted location and the wall opposite that blocks movement, bullets, and vision.

(Kinda like a Sage wall, but thinner, split up into more segments, including vertical segments like ##, each segment is more easily destructible, and it stretches from wall to wall with a decent range limit. Turn Valorant into Rainbow 6 with this one trick)

X (Ultimate) - Mutually Assured Destruction (8 points)

EQUIP a reactive shield generator. FIRE to apply a reactive shield to Trung and all nearby teammates, Overhealing them if necessary. Enemies that damage teammates with reactive shields will be hit with blasts that deal high damage in a radius around them.

(The reactive shields overheal for 50 health or until total health is 150. The blasts are like Gekko blind blasts: very fast projectiles)

Extras

Fascinated with knowing things, leading them to do lots of research on random topics that catch their interest. (projecting lol, I recently went on a rabbit hole about thermobaric explosions after seeing the term in a meme)

Very profit- and business-focused, but genuinely dedicated to the cause (if also acting out of self-interest)

Tech-savvy, but not on the level of Killjoy, of course.

A lot of their tech, at least during the period where SANDS first worked with KNG, was built off or based off of Killjoy’s KNG tech.

Was aware of some of the former KNG agents, like Brim, before joining the VP.

Non-binary. We love mildly evil capitalist soldier they/them.

Voice Lines