#multi point lock system

[alexdovwindows]

Custom Full Round Top Fiberglass Door with Sidelights – Project in Barrie

We recently completed a beautiful custom front door replacement in Barrie, and the transformation is truly worth sharing.

The home originally featured a traditional 6-panel steel entry door with two sidelights and a round transom above. The customer’s vision was to eliminate the transom entirely and install a full-height round top entry door with sidelights—creating a seamless, tall and elegant entrance.

To achieve this look, we custom-built a fiberglass door with an oak grain finish, giving it the rich appearance of real wood while providing excellent durability and strength. The door was stained inside and out to match the client’s aesthetic and to provide a maintenance-free woodgrain door that looks stunning from every angle.

The new entry system includes two narrow sidelights and a full round top fiberglass door that fits perfectly within the original brick opening—no transom needed. Thanks to the current door replacement promotion in Barrie, the customer received an incredible value, along with a 25-year exclusive warranty from Trust Build Windows and Doors.

For added security and performance, the door was outfitted with a 4-point multi-lock system, which secures the top, middle, and bottom of the door in one motion, in addition to a central deadbolt.

If you’re looking to upgrade your front entry door with something modern, secure, and timeless, contact us today. At Trust Build Windows and Doors, we’re not just a windows and doors company—we’re your long-term partner for quality, value, and peace of mind.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

saw ur multi may request post and just HAD to request this. Poly Billy x Stu with a breeding kink? Preferably fem or gn reader. I've been itching to read some new Poly Ghostface fics

Ay! Great, great, request! I don’t write breeding kink often, but it is a really fun one to do, and I took this one a bit of a darker route, hope everyone loves this one, second entry into Multi-May, and it was a really fun one to do. I am still accepting requests for Multi-May btw, so anyone who wants to get theirs in, please do! Your fic might be the next one I write!

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.3K. Poly!Ghostface, Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X FEM!Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: DARK FIC. Dub-Con. Tampering With Birth Control. Breeding Kink. Creampie. Rough Sex. Threesome. Vaginal Sex. Vaginal Fingering. Sloppy Seconds. Messy Sex. Cum Play. Dirty Talk. Banter. Begging. Multiple Orgasms. Overstimulation. 

—

Over And Over.

—

You love them coming inside. 

The biological drive behind it all cannot be understated, thousands of years of hard-wired feelings to want, to crave, to need a thick cock cumming inside your wet and willing cunt. Sure, a facial or a shot in the mouth still has some appeal, but nothing compares to getting it right where nature tells you it should go.  

They have a deep desire that matches yours to receive perfectly, they want to give, they want to provide and fill you up over and over, with the idea that it will, hopefully, eventually take root and then the evidence will be undeniable by you becoming pregnant. At least that is what the dirty talk and idea behind the kink implies, actually getting you knocked up isn’t the ultimate goal, the real reason is simply a shared love of it and finding it hot as fuck, using it as a vehicle to wring as much pleasure as possible from the act.

At least that is what you thought. 

They have a different view of it, what you said was in part true, sure it felt good and made the sex better, but the pair had decided a long time ago that they wanted you forever, didn’t want you going anywhere. What better way to tie themselves to you permanently than to get you pregnant? They are positive, if it takes, that you’ll keep it and by extension, them. So they do some work on their end to ensure it, you don’t exactly hide your birth control, tampering with it is laughably easy, then the fun part, fucking you over and over while what is in your system runs its course until the inevitable happens, they aren’t in a rush. 

Naturally some further precautions are taken, and you go along with your hips being propped up to help the large amounts of cum pool against your cervix, with them fingering the mess back into your loosened hole. The times you can’t rest are when the plug comes out, a thick and wide thing to keep the cum in and prevent it from spilling into your underwear, it can’t keep it all locked in but holds the majority, when the toy comes out the rush of slickness that follows is immense. 

Again for you, the thought of questioning any of this never occurs because you are confident you are safe, you think it is just to elevate the kink and scenes, all the while you are blissfully ignorant to them fucking with your pills, unaware that with their intervention it is taking your normal 99% protection with perfect use down several notches every single day. 

Most people don’t know what days will change their lives forever, going through it normally, only upon reflection can they point and say, “There, that’s when it happened.” This is one of those days you will think back on and see the whole picture. 

Tonight is for the three of you, this week has been busy, trying to get your schedules to line up has been tricky, but it’s your collective Friday, a few days off, so this is extremely needed. 

You are pinned down on the couch by Stu is sitting over your head, his hands on your shoulders, your own hands circling his wrists, grip tight, nails biting into skin, as he watches with rapt interest.

Billy has his hands tucked right behind your knees, forcing them to your chest, folding you effectively in half while he fucks into you deeply, his hips slamming into the backs of your thighs, before pulling out nearly completely before diving in again. You cannot help the sounds that slip out, pathetic moans and gasps are torn from your mouth with every loud smack ringing out with your body and his meeting. 

You can tell that Billy is getting close, the sweat on his brow as his grip under your knees tightens, the rhythm he had set earlier getting uneven, the pace getting faster while curses stain his tongue. Stu notices, he is talking him through it, “Fuck, come on, do it man, pour it in her, nice and deep.”

“God yes, gonna-” He doesn’t get the full words out before his sentence breaks off with a groan, and he does just that, his hips flush with your body, buried completely inside as he unloads. You feel the pulses, accompanied by that delicious warmth spreading, your breathing as laboured as you lay there, waiting for Billy to collect himself enough to pull out and for Stu’s inevitable turn. Billy leans down, more of his weight pressed to you, a soft kiss to your lips that you return momentarily before he pulls back, his hands release you and your knees go slack, no longer held tight to your chest. You watch as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and Stu asks, “Good one?” 

He hums in the affirmative, and holds his hand out, a gesture as he points, “Pillow.” 

Stu lifts his hands from your shoulders, and you stop gripping his wrists, he turns and picks up the pillow and passes it over. You are adjusted, and you know what they want, your arm hooks under your own knees, the pillow is slid underneath so it keeps your hips in their current upward position, as opposed to Billy doing it, allowing him to move freely. He gets up and asks casually, “Water?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Stu comes over to sit in the space where Billy had just left, you call, “Yes please.” 

Stu licks his fingers before his hand falls between your thighs, he says simply, “Keep holding those legs up.” 

You nod once and inhale sharply when his fingers get to work, slipping over your clit, your head falls back against the couch cushion. If one cums in you, the other usually gets you off before fucking you to add to the mess, the idea is that it increases the chances of getting pregnant, you don’t know how true that is, but you aren’t going to complain about enthusiasm for your enjoyment. 

You are already very warmed up, so Stu’s touch isn’t gentle nor rough, just firm, consistent pressure, exactly where you need it, tight circles drawn that draws a nearly dreamy moan from you. Billy comes back promptly, water bottle in hand, he holds it out and Stu takes it, he drinks deeply, his hand between your legs not stopping. 

Billy’s eyes are on your form, how you twitch and tense, sigh in pleasure, he poses a question, “How’s she doing?” 

Pulling the bottle away and handing it back, Stu responds, “Good, she’s kept all the mess inside, so far anyway.” 

You cut in as you breathlessly say, “You could always ask me yourself, I’m right here.” 

“I could, true.” He kneels on the floor next to you, his gaze locked on your face as he asks, “So how are you doing?” 

You open your mouth to respond and Stu, in that way only he can, presses down harder and speeds his fingers up, causing the words to die on your tongue, replaced with a choked moan instead. Billy smirks and raises his eyebrows, responding as if you actually spoke a coherent sentence, “Really? You don’t say.” 

Stu is snickering, and you try to bite out, but with how out of breath you sound, on top of it being cracked around the edges with your moans, it falls flat, “Fuh-fuck yo-you.” 

“Hurry up and cum so I can.” Stu teases, and you can feel it building already, you’d gotten halfway there when Billy was fucking you, getting back to the edge is not a challenge. “Gimmie ahh, minute-” You moan and Billy reminds, “Tall ask. You know how impatient Stu can be.” 

You are in fact well acquainted with how impatient Stu can be, you doubt you could ever forget it, even still, you don’t leave him waiting long. It is one of those orgasms that creeps up on you, the build starts slow and seemingly gets faster, like a train picking up speed, until the moment turn from, “I think I’m getting close.” to, “I’m on the edge!” and finally, thrown suddenly clear off and into, “I’m cumming-”

He works you through the bliss until it bleeds into painful overstimulation, leading to you batting at his hand, begging, “St-stop it.” 

“Alright, alright.” He lifts his hands away, and you exhale at the relief you feel. You are offered the water, you lift yourself only slightly and drink your fill, soon as you have swallowed the last mouthful Stu is getting ready to fuck you. There is no position change, the name of the game is keeping all the cum inside, and thus far you haven’t spilled a drop, if never stays that way. 

It isn’t like Stu always has to go second, but he seems to prefer it, the extra messy nature of sloppy seconds appeals to him, seems to make him fuck you harder. He has his hands pressed to the backs of your thighs, his thumbs spread your slick lips open and he presses the hot and flushed tip of his dick to your hole. 

“Been dreamin’ of this-” He presses his hips and begins to slide inside, a weak groan breaks off when his head is enveloped by you, “-haven’t cum all week, been saving it for you.” 

God, you know that isn’t a small feat, even during a busy week Stu always finds time to take care of himself, holding back so he can really fill you, it serves the exact purpose he wants, it makes a fresh wash of arousal soak your brain. He doesn’t stop his forward momentum until he is totally inside, once he is, a shared moan spills forth. 

He lingers for a moment, Billy still on his knees has his eyes on the point you are both locked together, he doesn’t look away when Stu starts to move. He fucks in and out at an easy pace, halfway out and then back in, grinding down on that perfect spot on every thrust in, making your cunt ripple in response. Billy can’t stay out of it, the same way Stu never can, he leans down and kisses you, a filthy moan into his mouth from how it immediately lights up your nervous system. Getting kissed while getting fucked is one of the best feelings possible, you cannot get enough of it. 

It is never stays easy, it turns rough quickly, and you take it gratefully, the kiss breaks, head falling back to the couch again as the pace is increased. You are thankful the walls of your place are thick because you are not quiet, moaning, crying out, panting and the sound of skin on skin, and soon, Billy talking. 

Speaking up, he says to Stu, “I think this’ll be the one man.” 

A deep groan in response, “You think?” 

“Oh yeah, no doubt, it has to be. She’s going to get pregnant this time for sure.” Fingers push some of your sweaty hair back off your forehead, and he prompts you, “You want it, right?”

With a shaky nod, your tongue flicks over your dry lips, uttering over the sound of sex, “Yeah, yeah, I do-”

“Say it then.” He urges, and you do, with a small shiver you indulge in your shared kink, playing into it, “I want it, I want it so much.” 

“Not to me, to him, beg him for it.” Billy directs, and you look up at Stu, you can see how much he is becoming effected too, keep in mind he hasn’t cum in over a week, he won’t be lasting much longer, “Fu-fuck, Stu, please, cum in me. I-I want it bad, M’ dyin’ without it.” 

It is more than working for both of you, feeling that familiar curling pleasure deep, the throbbing of your straining clit, the tenseness of your body over all as he slams in harder, “C’mon please, please, get me pregnant-”

It is as if those last three words moaned longingly yanks Stu to the edge, sudden and unexpected as he breathes out, “Shit-” His hips stutter to a harsh stop as he starts to cum and that is when you start to really overflow, with how rough he is, how wet you are and the both of their more than ample loads it is bound to happen. As soon as he is collected enough he pulls out and still panting he starts to finger the mess back into you, Billy reaches out to help, he can tell how close you were and how Stu came before you could again, his fingers rub your clit to help get you there. 

You always cum so quickly at this point, two thick fingers pushing the slippery cum back inside and pressing against that sweet spot every single time they enter you and the perfect friction and stimulation on the outside does you in rapidly. Body shuddering and sweat slick as you are gripped by the peak of your orgasm, it is drawn out until you are thoroughly spent and exhausted. Soon the hands lift one last time, leaving your swollen and stuffed cunt alone, and you are glad for the hard-earned break. Your arm released from behind your knees, you are so comfortable you could fall asleep right here, and you just might. You can hear the boys talking about what a good time that was and about you getting knocked up and you, all happy and sleepy are, of course, agreeing with a light laugh, “Yeah, I sure hope it happens this time.” 

Again, it’s fun! This is all in the name of insane orgasms and engaging in kink, you play along happily. 

Until the test comes back positive a few weeks later, and you are able to trace it back to this night. 

[guksfairy]

ANGEL | JJK

in which you finally give into Jungkook

notes: mentions of alcohol, toxic relationship, yandere tendencies?

Angel - Massive Attack ♪

wc: 1.034

He was your last hope. After your mom shut you out for choosing him in the first place and your sister being 5000 miles in another country, he was the only thing in your life left standing.

Your key, that you’ve turned a million times before, feels heavy and uncomforting. You know he’s behind the door somewhere in the apartment, just waiting. Waiting for you to walk in and run back into his arms.

You are to do exactly that. Because at this point, you have no other option. Jungkook had jeopardized your relationship with your family when he made you choose them or him. He made you quit your job so he could take care of you because a princess should never work. You didn’t have any other source of income. He was it. He was the reason you were still alive.

The lock clicks and you turn the handle to open the door, the lights are off everywhere but the kitchen. You don’t see him but you can hear he’s moving around in there.

Gently shutting the door, you walk towards the light and see Jungkook pouring Soju into two shot glasses. The bottle of alcohol seemed to have just been opened, meaning he was still sober. Doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t need alcohol in his system to let you know what he’s thinking.

He avoids looking at you or speaking until the second shot is poured and the sound of you placing your keys on the counter is heard.

“You really think you can leave?” a dry chuckle is heard throughout the rhetorical question. His gaze is dark and intense. Heavy set on keeping the eye contact.

You don’t reply and instead clear your throat, trying to swallow the lump to speak.

“I-” but you can’t say anything else. Every fiber of your being tells you to walk away. To run. To get away from the man that was shouting at you just hours ago, telling you that you were his. That you had no friends or family and that he was the only man and person you should ever be speaking to.

“You can’t leave,” he repeats, sliding the small shot glass filled with liquor towards you. He doesn’t make any effort to get closer to you, but his presence is well enough to keep you there. With the smallest hint of fear and curiosity.

“You can’t. Not after everything you and I have built together. After everything that I have done for you,”

There’s a twisted tone in his words. Like he’s trying to make you feel guilty. Like he knows you owe him everything. At this point, you know it’s not about you, it’s about control. It’s about the fact that you belong to him. Mind, body, and soul. If you try to leave him, it’ll break him. It’s not fair. He gave you everything, and you just want to walk away?

With a slight tremble in your voice you reply, “You don’t own me, Jungkook,” trying your very best to sound stern, as if you still have some control in this conversation. In this relationship.

A hint of something flashes in his gaze, a dangerous spark igniting in the depths of his brown orbs. Only then does he finally let out a sigh and walk to you, still standing at the entrance of the kitchen.

Grabbing your waist he pulls you into him, chest to chest, and turns you around so he’s caging you against the island. His hand leaves your waist and grabs your chin firmly so your attention doesn’t move away from him. Leaning down into your ear, you feel his hot breath, making shivers run down your spine.

“You think you have a choice?” his whispered voice sounds sweet for the words he’s speaking, “You think you can walk away from me when I’ve given you everything you’ve ever desired?”

In a way, it’s true. You’re standing in a multi million dollar apartment with a coffee machine that costs more than a phone. The view outside is something even the higher middle class could only dream of having.

“Ungrateful princess,” he whispers and leans back to look at you. The tears in your eyes threating to fall. With both of his hands he wipes you eyes, free from the sad drops.

“I can make you forget everything,” he murmurs the promise, “You’ll be mine, and you’ll never want to leave,” Even if you want to pull a silly little trick like you did today.

Running from Jungkook back to your parents shitty house? It made Jungkook laugh to see your location there. Shortly after, he made an online purchase for new locks to the place. He’s to pick the double sided door locks tomorrow morning and he’s making sure you come along to see your punishment.

You wouldn’t be able to leave the house unless you were with him. He’ll take both sets of keys with him daily, regardless for how long he is to leave for.

You close your eyes, body shuddering beneath at the weight of his words. You don’t know if you hate him or if you’ve simply given up at this point. Jungkook’s the reason you’re not out in the streets right now.

You’re lost in the darkness and he leans into a hug, kissing your neck gently and wrapping his arms firmly. You’re trapped. You don’t know if you’ll ever escape.

But at this point, perhaps being with Jungkook is better than the cold. Maybe the freedom out there isn’t worth it.

After all, you have everything a person could ask for.

You have the food, shelter, clothes, and expensive items people would kill for. All because of him.

So you hug him back. Letting your tears soak into his shirt while all he can do is smile because he knows you’ve given in. Now you know where you belong. Here. With him.

[demie90s]

Just In Time

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Diana Taurasi x Reader ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ Part 2

MASTERLIST MORE

⭑ pairing: Diana Taurasi x reader (soccer star!fem!reader)

⭑ summary: You were that girl in high school—averaging 30 points a game and dunking before prom. But you chose soccer over basketball and built an empire. Now you’re courtside at the Aces vs. Mercury game in Vegas.

⭑ genre: Slow-burn tension, legend-to-legend energy, flirty sports banter, unexpected chemistry

⭑ warnings: Swearing, casual cockiness, mutual eye-stalking, mentions of high school glory days

⭑ word count: ~ 0.8k

The camera didn’t even have to pan twice.

The second your face lit up on the Jumbotron, the crowd’s noise doubled. Phones flew up. Commentators’ voices pitched higher. And you just grinned from your seat—soft, effortless. Like you didn’t realize you were one of those people now. The kind crowds whisper about before they even spot you. The kind that gets a personalized clap track and a shout-out during timeouts.

“Y/N L/N, ladies and gentlemen,” the arena host announced over the system. “Soccer icon, multi-sport prodigy, and today’s honorary basketball royalty.”

You lifted a hand in a wave, flashing a lowkey smile, teeth biting at your glossed bottom lip. Diamond-studded “L/N” earrings caught the light. Nothing extra, but the kind of shine that made people lean in anyway.

Your friends—three of them, two influencers and a WNBA rookie you grew up with—were already gassing you up in the row behind you.

“She act like she ain’t break the high school scoring record,” one muttered, recording a story.

“She act like she didn’t drop 45 with the flu,” another laughed.

You didn’t correct them. You just rolled your eyes and tucked your hand back under your chin, watching the game unfold in front of you.

But it wasn’t until halftime, as the Mercury were jogging into the tunnel, that you heard it.

“Little L/N?”

You turned, and your smirk widened. “Coach T?”

Phoenix’s head coach was already walking toward you with his arms open.

“I should’ve known you’d be at a game like this. Still pretending soccer’s your main sport?”

You let out a soft laugh, standing to hug him. “You still pretending you weren’t begging me to commit after sophomore year?”

“Because you had thirty-four points, nine boards, and seven assists on a broken ankle.”

You shrugged, letting that memory sit. “Still lost that game.”

“By two. In triple overtime. And you had no bench.”

A few of the players were slowing down behind him, watching the interaction. And cameras, of course, never missed shit.

“She looks familiar,” someone muttered.

“Familiar?” Tibbetts scoffed. “She was on the cover of SLAM at sixteen. Almost went to UConn. Would’ve if she didn’t fall in love with soccer. What’d you end with in high school again?”

“Something light,” you said.

“Girl,” he grinned. “Twenty-nine hundred points. All-time state record. First player in school history to average a triple double two seasons straight.”

Someone whistled. Someone else blinked. And that’s when you heard her.

“That was you?”

You looked up—and the way Diana Taurasi stood just behind the tunnel barrier, arms crossed, head tilted, like she was trying to solve a problem…yeah. That was a core memory being printed in real time.

“Depends,” you replied slowly. “You a fan of broken ankles or buzzer beaters?”

She smiled. Real slight. “I’m a fan of the real ones. And apparently, I missed one.”

Coach chuckled and clapped you on the back. “Come catch up in the back after. I’ll let security know. They’ve been asking about you since the first quarter anyway.”

“Who’s ‘they’?” you asked.

“Everyone.”

⸻

The postgame locker room smelled like sweat, lavender, and a hint of champagne. Phoenix had pulled off a win—barely—but the vibes were still high. Music was playing low, and phones were out. Cameras too, content teams getting their last shots for the night.

You slid in lowkey, dressed in simple black cargos, a tank top, and a cropped open hoodie. Jewelry still on. Vibe still locked.

And when Diana spotted you, sitting on a folded towel across from her locker, water in hand, leaning back like this was your postgame too?

She just stared.

“Coach really let you in, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “He offered. Multiple times.”

“Figures.”

You looked at her again, and this time, you didn’t mask the way your eyes dropped—once, twice, maybe lingered too long on the line of her jaw and the way her bra strap peeked from beneath her loose postgame shirt.

“And you really played like that? For decades?” you said, half-mocking, half-mesmerized.

She smirked. “Still do.”

“Mmm. You’re lucky I picked cleats.”

“And you’re lucky I’m retired. Almost.”

Her voice was low. Purposeful. The kind that tested waters with every syllable.

You sipped your water. “Is that a challenge?”

“No,” she said, brushing past you, towel slung over her shoulder. “That’s a fact.”

⸻

Later, when most of the players had filtered out, Diana found you standing by the private team kitchen, talking to one of the media staff. Laughing a little too effortlessly. Shoulder leaned against the counter, head slightly tilted like you didn’t notice her watching again.

“You ever think about what could’ve happened?” she asked, walking up beside you.

You didn’t have to ask what she meant.

“All the time,” you admitted. “But I’m not mad at how it turned out. I still ended up courtside.”

“Could’ve been on the court though.”

You turned toward her, slow. Measured. “You regret any of it?”

She shook her head. “No. But I wonder who’d win.”

You stepped closer. Just enough to make her register the shift.

“I would’ve made you work for it.”

“You would’ve tried,” she said back, voice even.

A pause. Tension humming.

And then?

You grinned. “So what I’m hearing is…I should come to more games.”

Diana’s eyes narrowed like you’d just dunked on her.

But when she answered, her tone was light. Controlled. Dangerous.

“I dare you.”

[mclalan]

Corp Zomphis, 2020s Design Speculation

I want to talk about Corp Memphis again— that corporate style of gangly, dead-eyed characters trapped in a neoliberal purgatory, posed between pot plants and spreadsheets.

I don't need to go too far into describing it. Heaven knows there are already so many takes on it that you're probably sick of hearing about it. However, I think a succinct description of it can be found at the end of that Wired magazine article from a few years back:

Wired: Corporate Memphis: The Tech Industry’s Favourite New Art Style

"But, despite all this, it may not be worth lamenting the immense reach of Corporate Memphis or the design possibilities we’ve been deprived of because of it. The style is, after all, simply a reflection of big tech, and how it has constructed a world with users on one side and executives on the other.

A more interesting and visually rich digital space would mean more than coming up with a new illustration style—it would require a change in how the tech economy is run. Until then, Corporate Memphis is likely to stick around, bendy arms and all."

This touches on why Corporate Memphis looks the way it does: it's a reflection of the material reality it's made in and the economic conditions it serves.

To work in a design job today often involves being a "multi-practitioner"— corp speak for a jack of all trades. You might have multiple platforms to manage, need to create a mix of media (motion graphics, branding, illustrations, etc.), and produce multiple pieces of content, all for some pointless product consumed by placated consumers.

And that’s all in a day's work, to be repeated the next. It's gruelling, unforgiving, mind-numbing work—especially if you take pride in what you do. Life doesn't become easier, but it does become bearable if the medium you're working in isn't fighting against you. A style that can work across platforms, can be easy enough for anyone in the department to use, but versatile enough to allow effort when there's time and money. It's homogeneous to the point where the messy, qualitative complications of art direction don't come into play. You can download a vector stock or make it in-house with relative ease and speed, and it looks good enough. The consumer, despite being fatigued by it all, seems to find it good enough. And that's what marks the style really: it's "good enough." It's a style linked to speed and practicality in the face of intense demand and pressure, low industry wages, accessible skills for entry levels, and high corporate barriers as everything's locked within Adobe's infrastructure.

But its strength as this homogeneous vector glob style, with its lack of any real individual identity, is also its biggest weakness. Although I'm sure some designers might enjoy working in this style, it's not really a style designed for creative individual expression. It's called "corporate" for a reason. If you want something different, you might be tempted to try freelancing...

Outside the corporate design department, you might think you're finally free to create in your own style, no longer having to work in that dreaded Corporate Memphis one anymore. But it’s hard enough to work in your own individual style under the best of circumstances. That's because the whole economy is based on the same structures of endless content production for algorithmically optimised consumption that allowed Corp Memphis to thrive, so you're still facing familiar obstacles—creating vast amounts of content, quickly, for wide and insatiable consumer audiences. So, in a way, we have this algorithm-enforced market of content, favouring those who have optimised their style to be better seen by it. It's no wonder Corporate Memphis has endured past its welcome.

However, despite all that, illustrators and artists still plod on. They end up making stuff, somehow navigating these systems— either playing them like a fiddle, outright rejecting them, or going accelerationist about it, like with something such as Corecore. Self-expression can take many forms, and that potential untapped capital value is tantalisingly mouthwatering to corporate capitalists.

Corp Memphis is optimised to a fault. It's too polished, too automated, and fits too well with the well-oiled design apparatus. Thus, it's developed a semiotics to reflect this—it's cheap and it's perceived as cheap. That's why an art director (typically) won’t just stick some Corp Memphis imagine on an album cover or use it to illustrate a particular lifestyle magazine. It wouldn't suit it, it's signalling the wrong stuff. Culture, art, ideas, aesthetics are reflected in work created by practitioners with an artistic vision, or that taps into what's going on in the present. And this is reflected in their art style, something Corp Memphis can't easily do, if at all.

That's why there's still a kind of fringe freelance industry with a speciality in design identity, otherwise known in the industry as "creatives", albeit small and closely gatekept by the likes of legacy institutions such as Goldsmiths and corporate industry leaders like The HudsonBec Group. If a corporation needs design to be spiced up with some kind of creative identity, it'll turn to these agencies or freelancers from this background rather than use Corp Memphis.

But the sad thing is how a corporation doesn't have total control over the process and thus can't control the value and pricing since they have to deal with hiring these pesky freelancers. But how does a corporation even know who to hire? With moodboards, of course! It’s easier to hire someone in-house with "good taste," who can simply curate hot practitioners to hire, like a dragon collecting .png gems. Although a corporation will try to get the best deal it can, these pesky freelancers can potentially negotiate a price for themselves, especially if they’re some big shot who holds a lot of cultural capital.

But another benefit of a moodboard is that it can be converted into a design guide. Simply share the sorts of designers and illustrators that a corporation dreams of hiring but with a cheaper designer, and ask if they can copy the desired style for less. Failing that, they can just outright steal the style anyway. If the creator is small enough, who cares?

But the value and cultural capital that corporations must seek outside their infrastructure, the very thing Corp Memphis cannot do, comes at the price of what Corp Memphis can do. Freelancers are annoying to corporations. They’re inconsistent, outside their remit, and expensive—since any level of lost capital is an expense. And worse of all, they don’t own them. Work made in-house in a corporation is completely theirs to be used forever, however they see fit. A freelance gig is limited to the contract, and typically you have to keep paying for different uses, or pay a lot if it’s expected to be used for something big.

How dare these skilled workers... sorry, freelancers, leverage themselves. If only we, the corporation, could control and treat the work of freelanced art direction like we do Corporate Memphis. Well, maybe we can—with AI.

AI is a whole can of worms of its own. But I will outline how AI shares a lot with Corp Memphis in terms of mechanics, but it's not "good enough" like Corp Memphis is in terms of its aesthetics.

Let's put it like this, if Corp Memphis is above a stock image, which is above clip art, which is above a farting Elsa asset-flip mobile game, then AI-generated images are below that, sharing the same disdainful semiotics of a YouTube thumbnail. AI renders are synonymous with trash, with viewers combing over images seeking out any sniff of AI to decry it. This is, of course, unfortunate for corporations, because AI is wonderfully cheap and efficient to produce. The problem with even "the best" AI is that it still reeks of AI, because it's trained on relatively limited data sets that are the wrong semiotics that corporations typically use and that their consumers are typically familiar with. It's not consistent with typical standards and trends. But even the AI art styles synonymous with AI are really that of unfortunate ArtStation artists whose work has been stolen, scraped, and trained into these models. But none of it is directed, follows trends, or should I say, reflects trends favoured by brands.

Design industry standard work is also bolstered by their industry standing. Their "credibility" sets them apart from, as Mark Zuckerberg puts it, the worthless creators and publishers who ‘overestimate their value’. Sure Zuckerberg might say design is worthless, but let's not forget that Facebook Alegria, the design language developed for Facebook by the mega studio Buck Design in 2017, pretty much started Corp Memphis! I don't know how much that would have cost Zuck, but given how huge Buck is, I don't know, close to $1 million if I had to speculate. So what Zuck is actually saying is you are worthless, without your titles and industry standing, and are ripe for the scrapping.

I still think it would appear crass to the wider public if someone as tactless as Zuck were to steal wholesale from something like It’s Nice That's list of featured artists, due to the "prestigious" tutelage and culture capital of such trendy practitioners. Good luck if you're on your own though.

There's also the issue of copyright. I've no idea how litigious David Rudnick is, maybe he wouldn't even mind, but perhaps it would be legally safer to just hire a copycat of him rather than train an AI on his work. There's no shortage of copycats of him after all, and they'd probably do a better job than AI anyway.

No, a corporation if it wants to avoid all this mess will instead use AI this way:

Step One: Moodboardism

Directed by their little Pinterest moodboards and Instagram saves, a corporation will find the next latest and strongest trend that they want to utilise, be it Y2K or whatever's current on the human ant colony-as-algorithm site, Carri Institute's aesthetics.

Step Two: The Sellout

Hire an on trend freelancer with a large sack of money marked with a dollar sign to do a year's worth of graphic content in a particular on trend style. This is all then fed into their in-house AI database model.

Step Three: Rise and Grind

It's then handed over to the in-house sweatshop graphic designers as the latest toolset that they have to use. They're now tasked with grinding out prompts in this trendy style with the consistency, efficiency, and speed once only achievable with Corp Memphis.

So congratulations, now we have AI that isn't generic Facebook shrimp Jesus trash; it'll be its own unique trash. And sure, perhaps some AI artefacts might come through, but that's what the in-house graphic designers are for— to Photoshop those fingers. The corp no longer needs to put up with some meddlesome expensive freelance art director, as the AI model is consistent enough that someone in-house can direct it, just like Corporate Memphis. And even then, if it still comes across as AI-ish, the hope is that for the general public, it's "good enough", just like Corp... You get the idea.

And this is possible because a freelancers' perceived autonomous strength as corporate mercenaries is also their biggest weakness. They think they can dance with the devil and win, making essentially veneers for capitalists, never once thinking the corporations will one day come to extract capital from them too. Corporate Memphis is never going to die; it's going to mutate into a corporate zombie... Corp Zomphis?

Why bother hiring individual skilled freelancers to do a job in a specific style when you have a year's worth of art, seeded by one of them, to prompt out your own "unique" designs in their style. It's more efficient and cheaper to approach design as a egragore hungry for its next feed, rather than pay for a single illustration. But you'll just have to trust me when I say that I'm not making this up; annual hires to train their own ai is genuinely what big corporation are doing.

But what about the industry, are they just gonna let it happen? I don't know. But I think freelancers don't typically see themselves as a working class, but instead as individualistic, competitive even, little businesses. This is why I think corps will be able to steamroll over freelance designers and illustrators with AI driven Corp Zomphis, because there's no solidarity amongst designers and illustrators, unlike US animators with their union and perception of themsleves as workers. If one freelancer rejects that devil deal to make the annual quantity of prompt feed for a corp, then the next hire will. I remember even hearing the AoI stressing how it wasn't a union, as if union was a dirty word. Instead its existence is to help one interface with their corporate client overlord. Well, soon enough that interfacing will be about betraying your industry freelance brethren to a corporate egragore, basically turning everything into a potential Corporate Memphis reskin. If Corporate Memphis is the design logic of the economy of the 2010s, then I wouldn't be surprised to see people nostalgic for it in the future, if the speculative 2020s model I've described turns out to be true.

[jovial-thunder]

Lancer Tactics devlog

I'm gonna try out posting my ~monthly devlog roundup here as well. These suckers are glorified changelogs with anecdotes and gifs galore. Let me know if this is something you like seeing show up on your dash?

Map Editor

Got units able to be placed/deleted/moved in the mission editor

Can paint/remove command zones in the editor

Can paint minecraft-like terrain blocks in the editor

Can paint/rotate multi-tile props in the editor

Can edit unit character sheets and portrait via the editor

3D maps

Did a bunch of art tests with 3D mech models, provided by GeneralChaos, which we ended up deciding not to go with to keep things simple.

To avoid the can of worms that is animation, we'd have to lean into a static "tabletop minatures" aesthetic which we decided is not a style we want to be stuck with. By sticking with 2D sprites, we avoid falling into a sort of uncanny valley; it's easier to get away with not animating a 2D sprite than it is for a 3D model.

 We also experimented with 3D terrain. We decided to make a rule that the visual style for a piece of terrain should match its mechanical effect: obstructing terrain that you can't move through, such as rocks or buildings, will be in 3D, while non-obstructing terrain like trees will stick with 2D sprites.

Hooking up the 3D camera to follow events like movement and attacks did a LOT for making it starting to feel like it's cohering into an Actual Game™

Implemented cover! And an attack preview! Cover works by aiming a ray from the target to the originator (technically to and from each voxel of each, respectively, to handle size 2s shooting above size 1 cover) and tracking all the terrain blocks it hits (how we'll handle non-terrain hard cover TBD). I think I have it working according to Perijove's cover rules manual, but I'm sure there'll be edge cases to work out. This is a case where things are significantly simplified by working in squares instead of hexes; hexes have a lot more possible weird angles you have to deal with.

Re-added what I'm stubbornly calling Combat Popcorn; little bits of text that pop out when you use abilities and attacks.

UI & game screens

Added ability for the engine to show UI that's anchored to the game world via a little word bubble line but also stay on screen as the camera moves around.

Got word bubbles working; you can now write dialogue in the mission editor, hit playtest, and see it work in a mission! (it does actually translate correctly now; this gif is just from a bug I thought was funny)

Got ability effects mostly behaving appropriately again, including muzzle flashes. The easiest way to handle them ended up being NOT billboarding them so they always face the camera (like all other 2D sprites in the game); instead, I put them on a plane parallel with the ground and just spin them around the unit to point at wherever their target is.

Did some work ironing out our tooltip system. The standard in CRPGs these days is this kind of nested labyrinth of tooltops that you see in Baldur's Gate 3:

I Did Not Want to try and figure out how to wrangle that much UI, so we're instead opting to cap the nested tooltips at the second layer. You can lock a general tooltip for e.g. an action and then mouseover various items within that tooltip to get glossary definitions...

...and then instead of having those glossary tips be lockable/mouse-overable themselves, I collect all related terms to that glossary definition and let you tab through them.

Added skin overlay functionality to the portrait maker, enabling textures like scars, tattoos, stubble, and vitiligo to be applied to just the skin and not extend off into space.

Midway through writing this update, Carpenter sent me this gif of the randomization button working! There's a still a bunch of skintones/assets missing and a few are a bit janky, but it was exciting to start seeing the range of these lil freaks (affectionate) that this editor can create.

Mourning cloak license!

This is the one I'm probably most excited about: I did a bit of a content dive and implemented a basic character sheet + all Mourning Cloak traits and equipment. They don't have fancy graphics yet, but the weapons and systems can be added via the character sheet and used in-game.

It took a little under a day, including adding soon-to-be common mechanisms like bonus damage. This is great news in that it means the engine we've been building for so long in the abstract seems to do a great job in handling comprehensive actual game content, and that it looks like we've set ourselves up for success when it comes time to buckle down on churning that out.

I'm sure other licenses will come with unique difficulties (I fear the day it comes time to do the Mule Harness // Goblin CP) but I'm feeling good about it!

Vertical slice?

Taking a step back, the pressing question on my mind has been "when will we have a playable early access build?"

I was originally hoping for Feb/March, but what we've internally been referring to as the "3D cataclysm" has pushed everything back by at least three months, so the target for the first alpha build is now in May. So, ah, thanks for your patience! Seeing things come together, I've become more and more convinced that moving to 3D was the right call.

[touchtheinvisiblestars]

Imagine Benny when your ex still won't leave you alone (Part 3)

I never intended for this to be a multi part series. I haven't started anything else on this storyline as of yet. So this may well be the last part of it. But thank you for all the support, and I hope you enjoy this extra part.

Your ex still doesn't get the message, eventually crashing a party.

***

A week had passed since Adam was at Benny's boxing match. Which had left you nervous, and looking over your shoulder wherever you went. You knew this was what he wanted. But you couldn't help it.

You had been staying with friends since, unable to convince yourself that you could go home. Despite having the locks changed and a security system put in.

But there had been no sign of Adam. You'd been to work, traveled to various friends houses and even been on a date with Benny.

Finally a few days later, you convinced yourself you were being silly, playing into Adams hands wasn't going to get you anywhere.

You spent half the evening on the phone to Benny, and when he started falling asleep, you were finally alone for the first time in a long while.

Every noise set you on edge, both from inside and out the house. You curled up on your sofa, and watched a few episodes of a TV show you had to catch up on.

At some point in the early hours of the morning you fell asleep.

***

The next few weeks went by and you steadily relaxed a little more. Although there was a small niggling worry in the back of your brain.

You stayed at your place every night from then, feeling eventually comfortable enough to leave Benny to his evening. Not needing him to be on the phone for half the night.

"Fish and Pope are hosting a get together tomorrow, are you coming along?" He asked you, you carried the phone into the living room with you.

"Am I coming? I'm making dessert right now."

"Ooh, whatcha makin'?"

"It's a surprise. You'll have to wait until tomorrow evening to find out."

"That's so not fair. I bet it's banana bread too."

You laughed as you could almost see him pouting through the phone.

Saying your goodbyes for the night you hung up. Just needing to wait for your famous banana bread to be done in the oven.

You heard the letterbox go on your door, checking you phone you frowned. Who delivers something at 11pm on a Friday?

You picked up the envelope from the floor and turned it over. Seeing your name on the front. With no address.

Opening up the letter, and peering into it. You froze. Chest tight. An unmistakable feeling of dread rolled over you. There were pictures. But not just a few. At least 20 of them. All of you. Over the last week, when you thought you were safe. Pictures of you at work, taking phone calls and serving customers. When you've been at your friends houses. At your house. And far too many of you with Benny.

You scanned over each of them. Before shoving the lot back into the envelope and into your bag. Determined to push this out of your brain so you could get a good night's sleep.

Turns out you were more worried of the possibilies of what could happen rather than something actually happening. Sleep came too easily.

***

You headed over to Frankies house for about midday, bringing your offering for dessert, and also to thank Frankie and Paula for being such generous hosts all the time. It did end up getting quite messy when you were all together.

First to arrive as always. You set about helping Frankie set up the bbq, carting out cases of bbq meat for him to grill and returning into the house with the cooked items for them to be kept warm under the grill.

Then Pope arrived, shortly followed by Tom and his new girlfriend. They greeted you warmly, asking how your week went.

Last to arrive were the Miller brothers. Will looking flustered at being the last to arrive, but Benny chill as ever, a grin plastered on his face as he found you. Enveloping you in a hug from behind. Planting a kiss on your cheek.

"How did you sleep last night?" He asked, smoothing down your hair, and brushing your fringe out of your eyes.

"Well enough. Still not great. But I'll be fine." You paused what you were doing to smile up at him.

"Come out and sit with us in a bit?"

"Yeah I've just got this last thing to do. Then I'll be out for sure."

Giving your waist an affectionate squeeze, he left you to it.

Shortly after you joined the group outside and took a seat nestled into Benny's side.

Hours passed and the heat from the day faded into a cool night. Drinks were flowing easily keeping you skin warm. You started to feel the cold and excused yourself to grab the jumper you brought.

While pulling on your jumper you saw Pope make a beeline for another drink.

"Hey! I actually wanted to talk to you. Well, ask you something." You called out to him, he raised an eyebrow at you suggestively.

"Anything for you, what do you need?" He asked as he grabbed another beer.

"Can we talk out front? I kind of want to keep it between us."

He frowned slightly, his intrigue piqued, "sure."

You grabbed your bag and led him out the front, stopping on the wooden porch that wrapped the house.

Reaching into your bag you pulled out the envelope, "Okay, so I thought Adam was done fucking with me. But turns out. He's not."

You hesitated for a moment before handing him the envelope and he sifted through the pictures.

"Shit, what do you need from me?" He asked confused as to where he came into this.

"I want a gun. Nothing ridiculous. Just something I can-"

"No, absolutely not." He gave you back the envelope and stood back from you, holding his hands up. "Do you know how much trouble we could get in for that."

You step forward, "it takes too long to get a permit. Santi, please, I don't feel safe."

"You have Benny. And us!"

"That's not fair, I can't just rely on everyone to make sure I'm feeling okay." You pause, starting to feel a bit pathetic. "Look I'm sorry. I can get one another way."

You turned to go back inside, but Pope stopped you, his hand gentle on your arm, "wait... If I get you one. Do you even know how to use a gun."

"Yes, Santi, I'll even show you I do. Just promise me you won't mention it to anyone?"

"You mean Benny?" He raised an accusing eyebrow at you.

"Please. I haven't showed him these." You gestured to the envelope of folders.

"He's going to be so mad when he finds out. But no it won't come from me."

"Thank you. Really."

It was quiet for a moment, Pope took a swig of his drink. "I really think you should tell him. He can't help if he doesn't know. And the police. You should open a file with them. A restraining order would help."

"Y/N!" A voice yelled your name from the road. Making you jump out of your skin.

You and Santi turned to see Adam, staggering about trying to make his way towards the house.

"Is he fucking serious?"

"I'll deal with him." You told Pope, walking down the stairs, "keep Benny busy, he'll be fuming if he knows Adam's here."

You left him standing on the porch looking conflicted. He knew what Adam had done to you, so wanted to keep an eye on things incase you needed help.

Adam stumbled up the grass, clearly drunk, "Y/N, what did I do wrong?"

"Why are you here?"

"Because we always came here Friday nights." He

"No I did, you were too busy at the bar."

"Is he here? I saw you with him the other day. Did you get my present?"

"Yes I got it. Please go away. We're not together anymore."

"What did I do wrong?" He repeated again.

"Adam you beat the crap out of me, claiming I had been all over my friends at the bar."

"But you're with him now. Aren't you." He spat.

"Let me call you a cab. You're too far from your house to walk." You pulled out your phone and started looking up a cab company.

"He's not good enough for you. You should be with me."

"What? A raging man child with a drinking problem? I think I'm good."

"You bitch." He tried to reach for you but missed in his drunken haze.

"Y/N." Pope called uneasily.

"I was actually going to help you but you can get fucked. Goodbye Adam."

You walked back up the grass to the porch. Joining Pope.

"You're going to fucking regret this. I'm going to show you!" Adam yelled.

The door opened, Will and Benny appeared. You locked eyes with him as he stepped out. Before he looked to see where the noise was coming from and locked onto Adam. Pope intercepted Benny as he stiffened.

"Ben don't. He's pissed as a rat."

"What's going on, did he-"

"Benny I'm fine. He didn't come near me." You reassured him as he huffed out a breath.

"The fuck is he doing here? Does he have a death wish?" Will asked incredulously.

"I don't know. I was going to be nice and call him a cab. But then he started mouthing off at me so I'm just leaving him to it. He'll get cold and leave soon."

"He didn't touch you no?" Benny double checked, moving to tuck you into his side.

"Oh yeah just rub salt in the wound. You wouldn't have moved on that quick unless you'd been whoring around before you left me!" Adam goaded you.

Benny tensed next to you, "I still really want to hit him."

"Please don't. It's probably what he came here for."

"I know sweets. I'm good. You don't have to worry about me. I'll only get involved if I really need to."

At some point Frankie had joined you, "if he doesn't leave soon I will be calling the cops."

"Go ahead... I certainly won't be bailing him out this time." You shrugged your shoulders.

Frankie was true to his word, he did in fact call the police out to get rid of Adam. Who was still yelling insults at you as they cuffed him.

One of the officers asked to speak to you, which you did obligingly.

"Why did Mr. Turner come and bother you this evening?"

"He disagrees with our break up."

"Okay, are you worried for your safety Miss?"

"Yeah, a little. I stayed away from my house for a while after to avoid him."

"Okay well there isn't anything we can do if you don't file a report with us when things happen okay?"

"Okay I'd like to open a file with you. Starting with these." You reached into the bag you still had on you and pulled out the envelope of photographs. "He told me this evening he'd been following me. And asked if I liked his present."

"Can anyone else confirm this? Or did he just say it to you privately?"

"Pope was with me. Guy with the plain t-shirt on. " You turned and pointed to him.

"Okay. I'll get this logged and we'll give you a call in the morning to come down and make a statement. Thank you for your time. Have a safe night."

"You too. Thank you officer."

You rejoined the group, and sighed, relaxing slightly. Hoping you could enjoy your evening. Everyone but Benny filtered back into the house to restart the evening.

"What did you hand that cop?" Benny asked you, catching you off guard.

"I-I wasn't going to say anything. I didn't want to make you mad."

"Why would I be mad? Was it money?"

"No! God no. Adams been following me."

Benny's confused expression turned into one of anger. "He what?"

"There were loads of photos of me. At work, with you, at home even. I didn't know what to do with them. I only got it last night."

"You should have told me. I would have come to yours and made sure you were okay. I don't like that you didn't want to tell me."

"I just. I don't know. I feel like I'm being so pathetic and annoying." You huffed, "I'm paranoid that I'm going to end up making you fed up of me."

"I was always your friend before us. Here for you always. Don't push me away because you're worried I'll get fed up of you. Sweets, I've been in love with you for four years. I'm not going anywhere."

The words hit you like a car crash.

"You love me?" You whispered.

"Yes." He smiled down at you.

"I-I can't- say it. I'm getting there. I promise you, it won't be long. I'm just not ready to say it again yet."

"I've waited four years to tell you that. I think I can wait a little while longer for you to catch up." He smirked, pulling you to him by your waist.

[gippity]

Email Punk: Memetic Warfare through DIY (and beyond)

Flip their playbook and fight back.

1. Framing: Control the Narrative

Their Tactic: Oversimplify reality into “us vs. them” binaries and “common-sense” slogans to lock in loyal audiences  .

Counter: Keep It Raw

Record in first takes, room mics all the way. That unfiltered hiss and feedback becomes your counter-frame: “this is real, unsanitized truth,” not PR spin.

2. Myth‐Building: Invoke Grand Archetypes

Their Tactic: Cast themselves as heroic rebels or saviors in an epic crusade, tapping deep-seated myths  .

Counter: Attack with a Title

Your song title is your rebel shout. Go micro; 1 word or punchy phrase (RECKONING, SYSTEM OVERLOAD). You’re riffing on the warrior archetype to rally your crew, not a staged rescue mission.

3. Disruption: Spread Confusion with Glitches

Their Tactic: Seed half-truths, leaks and bot-driven spam to erode trust in facts; an “epistemic booby trap” that inoculates against critique .

Counter: Embrace the Crash

Jolt listeners awake with feedback blasts, dead-air glitches or sudden cut-offs. Your own signal mutates so they lean in. No time for sanitizers or talking heads to step in.

4. Memetics: Weaponize Earworms

Their Tactic: Rip off catchy jingles and repeatable slogans as propaganda hooks.

Counter: Hooks That Hit Hard

Keep choruses under six words. Repeat them till they’re ear-worms your fans chant at shows or text as hashtags. You’re engineering emotion into action, not pumping ad-style lies.

5. Co-option: Recycle Old Symbols

Their Tactic: Hijack historic flags, vintage slogans and coded dog whistles to cloak toxic ideas.

Counter: Revive the Obsolete

Dig up dusty radio jingles or crank your grandpa’s cassette deck. Flip them into shock weapons; nostalgia bent to punk resistance, not nationalist nostalgia.

6. Pipeline Ops: Echo Chambers of Motifs

Their Tactic: Reinforce memes and symbols across sites, videos and rallies to shepherd recruits down an info-rabbit hole  .

Counter: Riffs in Relay

Scatter secret motifs (lyrics, riffs or visuals) across tracks and socials. Fans who piece together the code become insiders, not mindless echo-chamber drones.

7. Brevity: Sharp, Repetitive Messaging

Their Tactic: Strip complexity to fit tweets, stickers and 30-second clips—brevity equals viral spread  .

Counter: Cut the Fat

Drop two-minute blasts. Every riff, every word a power surge. No filler, no rambling—just pure, lean fury.

8. Timing: Strike During Crises

Their Tactic: Launch talking points around hot-button events, riding waves of fear or outrage .

Counter: Release with Intent

Coordinate your drops (midnight demos, live-stream raids, lyric teasers) when attention spikes. Make each upload feel like a commando raid on the algorithm.

9. Network Ops: Coordinate Across Platforms

Their Tactic: Sync influencers, bots and fringe forums into a multi-front assault for maximum reach  .

Counter: Collaboration Over Isolation

Split EPs, guest spots, remix swaps; ally with fellow DIY hackers. Each collab is another front in your campaign, spreading your signal like wildfire.

10. Existential Fear: Cultivate Urgency

Their Tactic: Stoke dread with “end-of-days” rhetoric to force loyalty and silence doubt  .

Counter: Play Like It’s Now or Never

Unleash every strum and scream with front-line intensity. Yell like the world depends on it. No space for apathy, only action.

Bands on the Front Lines

Hot Leather: One-man synth-punk insurgent. Minute-long blasts, zero polish.

100 gecs: Meme-fuelled hyperpop.

B1G CH0MP3RS: Surf riffs crash into digital distortion.

Crass: OG myth-hackers. icon-flips that still sting.

Negativland: Found-sound saboteurs—turning corporate ads into subversive howls.

You know what to do.

[novastar-creations]

Reconsidering some things about my au jaja

Context: During the Krang invasion the lair was destroyed by some Krang zombies searching for the Key - while Sister Krang was chasing April and Splinter, the zombies tore the lair apart. The Hamatos then need to find a new lair.

NOTE: this is based on what I know about underground structures in my area, so if it’s inaccurate to what exists in America, tell me please!

Pros and cons below the cut, I encourage you to read before you vote

The pros and cons are measured both logistically and from the pov of what I want to do as both an artist and a storyteller

Sewer

- Pros: people know it, and it’s classic, who needs plumbing when you live in the sewer?

- Cons: could come off as unoriginal and overused. Also Donnie probably wouldn’t want to go back there given the hygiene issues - once you have sewage free housing, you never wanna go back. No power outlets as well.

Metro/subway system

- Pros: Semi-familiar environment without having to worry about figuring out the complete layout from the movie, plumbing

- Cons: done before, no power outlets, crap insulation/ventilation

Parking garage

- Pros: roomy, with a lot of potential for layout. Also usually has elevators and ramps, so disability friendly (yay!) - big help for Leo, who’s on crutches, space for the turtle tank

- Cons: No ventilation, no power points, laying out things could be difficult due to the general constraints of a parking garage, plus would require building to make room layouts, which is a lot to put on teenagers after they saved the world from aliens

Storage

- Pros: roomy, with separate spaces, power outlets in some areas, space for the turtle tank

- Cons: no ventilation, all of said “seperate spaces” are usually the same size, all of the spaces’ doors are probably locked and might have random stuff in them

Theatre basement*

- Pros: power outlets, interesting environment, probably has working plumbing bc dressing rooms and backstage toilets, direct access to NYC, might have a parking garage nearby for the turtle tank

- Cons: creepy, lots of random theatre stuff, restricted/limited space, often labyrinthine and confusing

*this makes no sense to anyone who hasn’t worked backstage before but yes, sometimes theatres have basements instead of a normal backstage area, and yes, they are terrifying - sometimes they’re a labyrinth of tunnels to get from one side of the stage to the other, and sometimes they’re a mass of interconnected rooms that if you mapped them out, they’d probably look like a poorly drawn diagram of the human digestive system made by someone with absolutely zero understanding of human anatomy. It depends on the type of theatre.

Shopping mall

- Pros: lots of space with separated rooms of varying sizes, power outlets, working plumbing, ventilation, food court so no worries about having to move in/build new cooking appliances

- Cons: pushing the suspension of disbelief a bit, not a lot of space for the turtle tank, unless you wanna demolish the food court (which I can’t see Mikey being very okay with tbh) (might be able to have an underground parking garage nearby???)

[playertwotails]

Okay so this has been circling around in my head for like two weeks like a fly hitting windows in a sun-room.

So I'm back on my Tails kitsune AU bullshit and I've also recently gotten into Cult of the Lamb so now they've mashed in my brain into a hodgepodged gloop.

And it's all going below the cut if you wanna read my brain worms cause it's long

***Trigger warning for like blood and cults and kidnapping and drugging. Just to give people a heads up (nothing too graphic or detailed but just in case and let me know if you think I missed anything I might need to warn people about)****

Little side note before jumping into this: do not tag as shipping, there is no shipping here it's all platonic and familial. If I see a ship tag I will block you.

Starting off it doesn't matter if Tails is actually a kitsune or not (I personally prefer that yes he is just for the post situation of the gang all being like "okay so what species is Tails actually???" )

I've just had this idea in my head where some cult somewhere is started and they worship kitsune's as godlike entities. They then catch wind of Tails in the news or rumors and their target is now locked.

So this cults leader gets the 'big brain but head actually empty' idea to kidnap Tails like any sane cult leader would.

Now these people somehow stumble ass backwards into kidnapping Tails and keeping him contained. And by keeping him contained they're basically drugging Tails just enough he's conscious but nonreactive. And they basically dress him up and drag him to their ceremonies as more of object than a kid. Tails is hating it and actually scared cause what the hell is wrong with these people let him go home.

Meanwhile Sonic and the gang are all freaking out cause "WHERE IS HE??!!!!" Cause lets be honest kidnapped by a cult was not on any of their bingo cards and at this point they don't know that's what happened, they only know Tails is gone and none of the usual suspects have him.

Rouge starts going through her contacts on the side looking for any crumb of information and gets a lead. And in typical Rouge fashion splits off on her own to look into it. She then comes across the cult and infiltrates their compound.

During her snooping though she overhears the leader of the cult and his subordinates talking about "living forever through the blood of their god's mortal form", sees a statue of a multi-tailed fox and all the red flags are immediately up for her. Internal panic button is smashed. 2 + 2 = fucked up situation.

She's already pressing the "get your asses here" button on her communicator and tears off as quickly but quietly as she can looking for Tails. When she finds him he's in a locked room just laying in bed, all dressed up in a white outfit. Which strange for her to see him just laying there since normally he'd be out and gone long time ago She sees what they've been giving him next to the bed and she's now double pissed off. (I like to think it's at least been over a week Tails has been missing, but if you wanna get really angsty make about 6 months, just as long as Sonic was locked up in Forces).

As gently but quickly as she can she bundles up Tails and carries him cause at this point he's got so much in his system he can't walk or talk, blinking is kinda his only form of communication at the moment. To which Rouge doesn't know what's worse, for Tails to have been asleep for the whole time unaware or to be awake for the whole time and know what's happening.

Tails on the other hand is just so happy to see her and scared that he starts crying. Which is just breaking Rouge's heart to witness as she starts to backtrack out of there with him, with him just silently crying nonstop in her arms.

Unfortunately only about halfway to the exit they discover Tails is gone and the place starts going into lock down with cultist swarming the halls of the place. And even though Rouge is an excellent fighter, she's in close quarters with a kid who can't walk so she's quickly overrun by cultist who tie her up and take Tails back.

The leader then using all of his one brain cell figures she's already signaled to the other's where they are and he knows it's only a matter of time before the fastest thing on the planet busts their door down looking for his little brother.

The leader announces to the group they're moving up the ceremony to now much to Rouge's horror and they drag her along too kicking and screaming cause they don't have time to drop her off in a cell or anything.

Everyone is now in this big ceremony/chapel room that has a big stone table covered in white flowers, that suspiciously is the perfect size for an 8 year old fox to lay down on. And the leader does just that laying Tails on the table.

Rouge is throwing an absolute fit and cursing everyone out cause no way in hell is she gonna let this happen, it's to the point multiple people are having to hold her down even with her tied up cause she's kicking up such a storm of rage.

Meanwhile, Tails is mentally absolutely freaking out in a panic and is terrified out of his mind, especially when the leader brings out a large ornate knife and starts chanting something.

As the leader is finishing up and reeling back his hand with the knife Sonic busts in and sees all of this. Immediately rushing to the table just as the cult leader goes for the downswing.

Sonic just barely catches the knife about an inch from Tails' chest grabbing on to the blade of it and cutting his hand which drips onto Tails.

Now Sonic finally has a moment to process all of this and what exactly is happening and for obvious reasons he is beyond pissed off. He's probably not far off from turning into dark Sonic or it's creeping around the edges of him. And just as he's about to send the cult leader to meet his maker he glances at Tails' face and that's the only reason he doesn't kill the leader right then and there. Cause Sonic thought Tails was asleep but now he notices not only is Tails somewhat awake but tears are streaming down his face.

So Sonic does the next best thing in this situation, knocks out the leader in less than a second and just pulls Tails into a hug off the table and starts just sobbing with Tails in his lap curled up on the floor. Cause the horror of what about happened and the relief Tails is okay and he found him in time hits Sonic all at once.

The rest of the cultists are still frozen cause for Sonic, Tails and the leader all that happened in less than a minute and the group is still catching their bearings of everything that just happened. Which is a good thing cause in that moment everyone else catches up and runs into this whole scene.

From their perspective though they just see Sonic sobbing over a limp Tails with blood on his chest (from Sonic's hand but they don't know that), a guy knocked out (or possibly dead??) next to them, a big stone table that suspiciously looks like an alter also next to them, Rouge who is still cursing up a storm tied up in the corner and held down by like 5 people, and a room full of people in matching robes that look like the guy up near Sonic and Tails.

The rest of the group now splits off with Amy and Knuckles running over to Sonic and Tails, Shadow going for the leader on the ground, Omega going to help Rouge, and the rest of their friends they had helping them splitting off to take care of the rest of the cultists.

From here everything gets resolved, cultists and leader locked up, Tails getting what ever drugs they were giving him out of his system and going home and everyone somewhat going back to their lives. Sonic however does not leave Tails' side for a while and hovers around him which for the first few weeks Tails appreciates cause if he's honest he doesn't want Sonic to be far from him either after everything and really doesn't want to be alone for long. Tails get constant nightmares about the situation and is snuggling with his big brother almost every night. Which is great for Sonic cause he's also getting terrible nightmares from the ordeal and feels better when he wakes up and Tails is right there.

It does get to the point though where after a bit of recovery and time healing the mental scars Tails has to convince Sonic that he can be go back to running around and exploring without Tails right next to him. It takes a lot of convincing and scheduling regular check-ins (like 5x more than they previously had) but Sonic and Tails slowly get somewhat back to their normal lives.

If you wanna get angsty though have it so Sonic is just a second too slow in saving Tails and the fallout from that. (couldn't be me though I'm a hurt/comfort girly at heart, give me the angst but everyone's okayish in the end)

[villainousintent]

I've posted mostly about Dragon Age on here but it's not my favorite game series. I have a lot of love for it. It's a messy, multi-faceted fantasy epic but it's definitely not "great art" in my estimation. It's parts are too disparate, don't quite come together for me. The writing is the most consistent aspect of the series, including Veilguard. There's a distinct throughline in the series that is easy to follow and back track. The Blight, Titans, Elves. You can trace all these things with minimal inconsistency in the lore from Origins to Veilguard. But the rest...

Non-diegetic elements like gameplay systems, music and even art styles vary so widely from game to game. Even gameplay elements seem to contradict story, character and lore like half-assed character classes like Dorian's necromancer sub-class. Sometimes the game doesn't even feel good to play on a minute-to-minute basis depending on the entry you're playing. I hate the combat in DA2, it feels absolutely awful to play and the encounters in the base game are dog shit. Inquisition clearly wanted to be more reaction based with dodging, blocking, and parry mechanics, but those are locked behind ability point unlocks for some reason. Like, you have to block as a sword-and-board warrior, it's mandatory so why make it a wasted ability slot? Anyways...

Still love these games but I don't hold them in very high regards anymore. You can definitely find better, more profound art on itch.io that's not made in a corporate meat grinder.

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

Verlangen (pistol)

Type: Semi-automatic heavy pistol

Place of origin: Merdengard, Lyran Commonwealth

Designer: ???

Designed: c. ???

Manufacturer: Custom / One-off

Produced: 1 unit

Users: Dieter Marten-Steiner

Overview: Verlangen is a custom-engineered heavy handgun designed as a personal sidearm for Dieter Marten-Steiner of the Merdengard-based Marten-Steiner family. It combines elements from both revolver and semi-automatic pistol designs and is optimized for armor penetration and high stopping power.

Feeding system: An 8-round detachable magazine feeding a dual-chambered rotary cylinder.

Action: The weapon utilizes a toggle-lock action similar to the ancient Luger P08. Upon firing, the toggle-lock actuates under recoil, extracting and ejecting spent casings while the rest of the action cycles the next round into place.

Recoil System: Recoil is partially mitigated through a multi-port muzzle brake and an internal magnetorheological balanced recoil system.

Materials: The main frame is machined from a titanium-vanadium alloy for strength and thermal resistance. The grips are made from inlaid wood, reinforced internally for durability. Despite its complexity, Verlangen is designed for field reliability under limited conditions, with the assumption of regular expert maintenance.

Caliber: .46 (11.68 mm)

Case Length: 46 mm

Bullet Mass: 23 grams

Muzzle Velocity: ~945–975 m/s

Muzzle Energy: ~4,100 joules

Chamber Pressure: up to 65,000 psi

Feed System: 8-round detachable box magazine

Ammunition: Verlangen fires a proprietary cartridge, combining a polymer-metal foam hybrid casing with an armor-piercing high-explosive hollow-point (APHE-HP) projectile. The standard projectiles, all being fully custom-manufactured, are designed to achieve penetration against high-grade personal and light vehicle armor, while also ensuring devastating performance against soft targets. The standard projectile combines a "Clan copper" expanding jacket with a sub-caliber armor-piercing explosive penetrator fused to detonate several micro-seconds post-impact. In organic targets, detonation often occurs after jacket expansion is complete.

Appearance and Finish: Verlangen is highly customized. It features hand-engraved, platinum/germanium-filigree inlay detailing along the frame, including the Marten-Steiner family crest. The grips are made from the bark of Merdengard's native Bluteispflaume tree, engraved and lacquered, secured with custom-forged grip screws.

[broodwoof]

solyrookvellara & their individual lives post-vg

(yes i said i was kidding about the ship name but now i kinda like it. such is life)

post-veilguard polyship complexity hell heaven... but also kinda hell bc no one except mythal and solas are particularly used to poly relationships and everyone's kinda awkward and figuring it out. ofc everyone has a unique relationship with everyone else and that's where the fun is imo

caveat that at this point i am more or less viewing morrithal as a system. like obviously there's something different and magic going on, but in terms of functionality, i view one or the other as typically "fronting", although i think both remain largely aware

mythal x solas -> nonsexual; only light physical intimacy because of "wrong body" (morrigan's body) reasons. neither of them wants their old relationship to take precedence over a mortal's life, and as such mythal is rarely called to the front... but when she is, she often spends some of that time with solas

mythal x daw -> strange little relationship, and neither of them (or morrigan) have any problem with kissing and whatnot. doesn't go beyond that, but it's kinda nice and if they start by kissing mythal and pull back to have morrigan staring at them, well, that's kinda nice too. at this point daw is very much in the "might as well" stage of things; polyamory is new to them, but no one can say they don't give new things their all!

nessa x daw -> developed during the events of veilguard, a few meetings and a lot of letters nessa realized daw was interested in solas and encouraged them to pursue that - anything to stop him. even if it meant nessa would lose him. but daw wasn't having any of that, and so nessa suggested a compromise... and a multi-prong attack >3

nessa x solas -> solavellan heaven. they are very soft together... too soft, really. there's some non-canon trauma in their romantic history on top of all the canon stuff, and it has made solas very hesitant around her, very delicate with her, every touch an apology kinda thing. nessa doesn't want that though, and eventually they settle into something more real, it just takes some time

daw x solas -> developed during the events of veilguard, but wasn't a romantic relationship. he and daw had a lot of sexual tension in the mind prison and ended up, well, working it out a few times 🙂‍↕️ honestly solas is gonna feel like a fucking monster (*coughs* this isn't a new feeling for him *coughs*) when he realizes that nessa has been pursuing him all this time... to stop him, yes, but also pursuing him romantically. but yeah, nessa approved and encouraged daw to pursue this, solas is just kinda in the dark about the dynamics for a while. but he and daw are messyyyy together. very gentle until they're in bed, at which point they get competitive and "play-fighting" and rough sex... except there's real anger being vented and neither of them are actually willing to touch those emotions (yet!)

daw x bellara -> bel is just like hey what the fuck is going on. no but really. i mean everything is out in the open and aboveboard, she's fine with what's going on, but it's kinda making her head spin... although it's also great material for her stories. but daw spends a great deal of their time with bellara, and they have a very deep, meaningful relationship, and do a lot of mundane things together that daw doesn't really do with anyone else. also they kiss and fuck so much 🙂‍↕️ as they deserve 🙂‍↕️

bellara & solas -> this takes A While fr. but bel is curious by nature, a historian, and solas is... solas. he was there. in fact, he made a lot of history happen! very frosty at first, but there's a shift when one of them mentions something offhandedly, perhaps not even talking directly to the other, but the other person chimes in. and then they're just talking and it flows and they're invigorating each other and it's actually really, really fun? i like to imagine nessa and daw locking eyes during this moment and fighting back smiles bc it's cute

morrigan & nessa -> the real reason morrigan is with everyone in the lighthouse. she would not have stayed for solas or for daw, but she and nessa are extremely close, and their children are also extremely close. at this point, they pretty much view each other as family

morrigan -> she leaves sometimes! absolutely! frequently her and kieran both, but sometimes she leaves kieran in nessa's care

solas -> comes and goes. he works for weeks to months at a time in the fade, then returns to the lighthouse for usually a few weeks before setting out again

bellara -> travels frequently between the lighthouse and the veil jumper camp, easy with the eluvian

daw -> also travels frequently between the lighthouse and the veil jumper camp (daw is a vj as well), but tends to feel a little more at home in the lighthouse by now

nessa -> settles in the lighthouse, especially since revas loves it so much, but also travels back to ferelden at times. that eluvian is constantly getting a workout

revas -> is pretty much happy as long as she's around her mom. her dad - solas - is important to her, too, but they're still getting reacquainted. what she doesn't know and will eventually learn is that the wolf she always saw in dreams was him, keeping her company in an undemanding, gentle way, easing her nightmares back to sweet dreams. revas is a mage as well and loves chasing the wisps and practicing her magic in the lighthouse. she also loves the caretaker

kieran -> is so used to traveling and changing and adapting that staying in one place is probably downright unsettling, but it's helped by the fact that this one place is not any kind of normal place. frequently goes on little adventures with revas where they explore parts of the lighthouse that are "off limits" (cue nessa and morrigan unconvincingly saying "oh yeah, don't go over there") and kieran is old enough to kinda figure it out but he doesn't really care because it's still fun. they get up high and stare down at the expanse of the fade. sometimes they throw rocks and wonder where they go

everyone except solas leaves the lighthouse to go to cities, to visit friends, etc. solas... i think he'll get there. eventually. but right now he can't bring himself to visit anyone he used to know, although nessa takes care to tell him all about their mutual friends (and to tell their mutual friends all about him!)

[techav]

As I've mentioned before, the ultimate goal for my 68030 homebrew systems is to run a proper multi-user operating system. Some flavor of System V or BSD or Linux. I am not there yet. There is still so much I need to learn about programming in general and the intricacies of bringing up one of those systems, plus my hardware does not yet have the ability to support multiple users.

I've toyed with several ideas as to how to get the hardware to support multiple users, but ultimately decided to leverage what I have already. I have a fully-functional modular card-based system. I can easily build new cards to add the functionally I need. And to make development and debugging easier, I can make each card simple, dedicated to a single function.

The catch is I've already run into some stability issues putting everything on the main CPU bus. So what I really need is some kind of buffered peripheral bus I can use for developing the new I/O cards I'll need.

So that's where I started — a new 8-bit I/O bus card that properly buffers the data and address signals, breaks out some handy I/O select signals, and generates the appropriate bus cycle acknowledge signal with selectable wait states.

It wasn't without its problems of course. I made a few mistakes with the wait state generator and had to bodge a few signals.

With my new expansion bus apparently working I could set out on what I had really come here for — a quad serial port card.

I have it in my head that I would really like to run up to eight user terminals on this system. Two of these cards would get me to that point, but four is a good place to start.

I forgot to include the necessary UART clock in the schematic before laying out the board, so I had to deadbug one. I'm on a roll already with this project, I can tell.

So I get it all wired up, I fire up BASIC, attach a terminal to the first serial port, and get to testing.

Nothing comes across.

Step-by-step with the oscilloscope and logic analyzer, I verify my I/O select from the expansion bus card is working, the I/O block select on the UART card is working, the individual UART selects are working. I can even see the transmitted serial data coming out of the UART chip and through the RS-232 level shifter.

But nothing is showing up in the terminal.

I've got the terminal set for 9600bps, I've got my UART configured for 9600bps, but nothing comes across.

I did note something strange on the oscilloscope though. I could fairly easily lock onto the signal coming out of my new serial card, but the received data from the terminal wasn't showing up right. The received data just seemed so much faster than it should be.

Or maybe my card was slower than it should be.

Looking at the time division markings on the oscilloscope, it looked like each bit transmitted was around ... 1.25ms. Huh. 9600bps should be more like 0.1ms. This looks something more like 800bps.

I set the terminal for 800bps and got something, but it wasn't anything coherent, it was just garbage. I wrote a quick BASIC program to sweep through the UART baud rate generator's clock divider setting and output a string of number 5 for each setting until I got a string of 5s displaying on the terminal.

So then I tried sending "HELLORLD".

I got back "IEMMOSME".

No matter what I changed, I couldn't get anything more coherent than that. It was at least the right number of characters, and some of them were even right. It's just that some of them were ... off ... by one.

A quick review of the ASCII chart confirmed the problem.

'H' is hex 0x48, but 'I' is 0x49. 'E' is 0x45, but was coming across correctly.

... I have a stuck bit.

The lowest-order bit on my expansion bus is stuck high. That's why I wasn't seeing any coherent data on the terminal, and it also explains why I had to go hunting for a non-standard baud rate. The baud rate generator uses a 16-bit divisor to divide the input clock to the baud rate. When I tried to set the divisor to 0x0018 for 9600bps, it was getting set to 0x0118 — a difference of 256.

Another quick BASIC program to output the ASCII chart confirmed this was indeed the problem.

Each printed character was doubled, and every other one was missing.

That sounds like it could be a solder bridge. The UART chip has its D0 pin right beside a power input pin. A quick probe with the multimeter ruled that out.

Perhaps the oscilloscope would provide some insight.

The oscilloscope just raised more questions.

Not just D0, but actually several data bus pins would immediately shoot up to +5V as soon as the expansion bus card was selected. As far as the scope was concerned, it was an immediate transition from low to high (it looked no different even at the smallest timescale my scope can handle). If the UART was latching its input data within the first third of that waveform then it certainly could have seen a logic 1, but it doesn't make sense why only the one data pin would be reading high.

I thought maybe it could just be a bad bus transceiver. The 74HCT245 I had installed was old and a little slow for the job anyway, so I swapped it out for a newer & much faster 74ACT245.

And nothing changed.

It's possible the problem could be related to the expansion bus being left floating between accesses. I tacked on a resistor network to pull the bus down to ground when not active.

And nothing changed.

Well ... almost nothing.

This was right about the time that I noticed that while I was still getting the odd waveform on the scope, the output from the terminal was correct. It was no longer acting like I had a stuck bit and I was getting every letter.

Until I removed the scope probe.

Too much stray capacitance, maybe? That waveform does certainly look like a capacitor discharge curve.

I had used a ribbon cable I had laying around to for my expansion bus. It was long enough to support a few cards, but certainly not excessively so (not for these speeds at least). It was worth trying though. I swapped out the ribbon cable for one that was just barely long enough to connect the two cars.

And finally it worked.

Not only was I able to print the entire ASCII set, I could program the baud rate generator to any value I wanted and it worked as expected.

That was a weird one, and I'm still not sure what exactly happened. But I'm glad to have it working now. With my hardware confirmed working I can focus on software for it.

I've started writing a crude multi-user operating system of sorts. It's just enough to support cooperative multitasking for multiple terminals running BASIC simultaneously. It may not be System V or BSD or Linux, but I still think it would be pretty darn cool to have a line of terminals all wired up to this one machine, each running their own instance of BASIC.

[conspicuous-clown-car]

ooughh u wanna explain the lore of pressure to me so badd (i have no clue what it is so explain it like ur talking to a third grader lmao)

okay this is only based off of what i know from what ive played, i havent read any wikis or anything and i dont have every file, so this just what i remember

So basically you're a criminal who was given a chance by a company called Urbanshade to earn freedom, money, and have your criminal record pardoned. All you gotta do is go take a submarine to Hadal Blacksite that's on lockdown to retrieve a crystal. The blacksite is located in a trench HELLA DEEP underwater in a weird pocket where the water pressure is that of a swimming pool. But since the pressure outside of that pocket is SUPER high, no living thing can get in or out of the blacksite unless you use their advanced submarines. You are now an expendable, and you aren't expected to return. Urbanshade does a lot of unethical experiments and tests at the hadal blacksite, some of which try to kill you. Many that you encounter are fish related, but other entities and creatures are located there as well, some are harmless too. (think scp)

One of the experiments was on sebastian solace who was convicted of murdering 9 people and was sentenced to death til urbanshade showed up. They gave him a bunch of different fish DNA and the whole point of it was to figure out how to give their employees gills, and it worked. But sebastian went from a regular human to a mutated fish creature. They didnt have any use for him after that so they made him do underwater maintenence. Then urbanshade found out he was wrongly accused and was innocent but it was too late bc hes a mutant fish now, so they just gave him better living conditions. Then when he was being transported somewhere he faked anesthesia and killed a guard, got his keycard, and started releasing other experiments and creatures from their cells. So its sebastian's fault the Hadal Blacksite is on lockdown. Then after all that he sets up a shop where you can buy gear and stuff thatll help you, and you give him the data you collect. Also urbanshade says if Z-13 (sebastian) is encountered, shoot on sight.

Theres also this ai called p.AI.nter who was originally a painting ai who was taken and made to mine crypto. It gets connected to the blacksite and uses turrets on you, tricks you into going through wrong doors to get killed/hurt by a creature, and locks you in rooms for a short time with a creature that will hurt you when you look at it (you're forced to look at it). Plus some other stuff that i dont remember. p.AI.nter has said that it prevents the player from reaching the crystal because if we do, sebastian and it cant escape. It has a kind of multi faceted personality, mocking the player at one point and apologizing at another. This is because it tried to kill itself by overclocking it's systems, so its all messed up.

idk why the crystal is so important, idk how getting it will prevent sebastian and pAInter from escaping. all i know is,

fishe

[darkmaga-returns]

Every year, tens of billions of our tax dollars have been used by USAID to exert “soft power” and cause chaos all over the globe.  Most Americans that have heard of it think that USAID’s primary purpose is to deliver humanitarian assistance to nations that desperately need it.  But the truth is that only a very small fraction of USAID’s budget goes to help the poor, and even when that is the case there are usually very alarming strings attached.  Ultimately, any humanitarian assistance provided by USAID is simply a cover story for the real purpose of the organization.  It has evolved into a multi-billion dollar slush fund that has been used to relentlessly push globalist goals and promote regime change around the world.  Do you remember the coup in Ukraine in 2014 that precipitated the conflict that has brought us to the brink of World War III?  USAID funded it.  Do you remember the research in a lab in Wuhan, China that ended up throwing the entire globe into a state of turmoil for several years?  USAID funded it.  The truth is that USAID is a cancer that desperately needs to be removed, and it is finally happening.

Those running USAID thought that they were untouchable.

But they weren’t.

On Sunday, Donald Trump told the press that the organization was being run “by a bunch of radical lunatics”…

Trump told reporters on Sunday: “USAID has been run by a bunch of radical lunatics and we’re getting them out and then we’ll make a decision.”

I totally agree with Trump on this point.

Virtually everyone at USAID needs to be removed from their positions.

Fortunately, things are moving in that direction.  USAID employees were told to stay home on Monday, and hundreds of staffers were locked out of the computer systems…