#power cell array

[sw5w]

Probe Droids Summoned

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:51:53

I added a bit of speculation to this, as the area above the engines appears to be a sealed rear viewport when compared with the shape of the front viewport. It would also correspond with the passenger seating in the cockpit (though the illustration shows the shape disconnected)

[electronalytics]

Solar PV and Wind Energy Market Overview, Demand, Key Players and Regional Outlook Study 2017 – 2032

Solar PV and Wind Energy Market Overview:

The solar PV (photovoltaic) and wind energy markets are crucial segments of the renewable energy industry. Solar PV harnesses sunlight to generate electricity, while wind energy utilizes wind power to produce electricity. Here is an overview of the solar PV and wind energy markets:

Types of Solar PV Systems:

•             Grid-connected Solar PV Systems: These systems are connected to the electrical grid and supply electricity to both residential and commercial consumers.

•             Off-grid Solar PV Systems: These systems are not connected to the grid and are typically used in remote areas or for specific applications such as powering telecommunications equipment or irrigation systems.

•             Building Integrated Photovoltaics (BIPV): BIPV systems are integrated into building materials such as windows, roofs, or facades, allowing them to generate electricity while serving as functional building elements.

Types of Wind Energy Systems:

•             Onshore Wind Energy Systems: Onshore wind turbines are installed on land, typically in areas with consistent wind resources.

•             Offshore Wind Energy Systems: Offshore wind farms are located in bodies of water, such as oceans or large lakes, and utilize wind turbines installed on platforms or foundations anchored to the seabed.

Key Growth Factors and Trends:

1.            Renewable Energy Transition: Increasing concerns about climate change and the need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions have accelerated the adoption of solar PV and wind energy as viable alternatives to fossil fuel-based power generation.

2.            Declining Costs: The cost of solar PV and wind energy systems has significantly decreased over the years, making them more competitive compared to conventional energy sources.

3.            Supportive Policies and Incentives: Government policies, subsidies, and incentives promoting renewable energy, such as feed-in tariffs and tax credits, have played a crucial role in driving the growth of solar PV and wind energy markets.

4.            Technological Advancements: Continuous advancements in solar PV and wind turbine technologies, including increased efficiency and improved energy storage solutions, have further contributed to market growth.

5.            Market Expansion: Emerging economies, particularly in Asia-Pacific and Latin America, are witnessing a rapid increase in solar PV and wind energy installations, driven by growing energy demand and favourable government initiatives.

Key Points for Development and Forecasts:

1.            Capacity Expansion: The solar PV and wind energy markets are expected to experience significant capacity additions, driven by increasing investments in renewable energy projects globally.

2.            Energy Storage Integration: The integration of energy storage solutions, such as batteries, with solar PV and wind energy systems is expected to gain traction, enabling better management of intermittent power generation and enhancing grid stability.

3.            Digitalization and Smart Grid Integration: The adoption of digital technologies and smart grid solutions will enable efficient monitoring, control, and integration of solar PV and wind energy systems into the overall electricity grid.

4.            International Collaborations: Cross-border collaborations and joint ventures between companies and governments are expected to foster technology transfer and drive market growth in different regions.

5.            Electrification and Decentralization: The electrification of transportation and the increasing focus on decentralized energy generation are expected to create new opportunities for solar PV and wind energy markets.

Analytical Overview of Solar PV and Wind Energy Market:

The solar PV and wind energy markets play a crucial role in the global transition towards renewable energy sources. Here is an analytical overview of the solar PV and wind energy markets:

Market Dynamics:

1.            Growing Renewable Energy Adoption:

•             Increasing concerns about climate change and the need to reduce greenhouse gas emissions drive the adoption of solar PV and wind energy as clean and sustainable alternatives to fossil fuels.

•             Government policies and regulations promoting renewable energy, such as renewable portfolio standards and carbon pricing, further stimulate market growth.

2.            Declining Costs and Technological Advancements:

•             Both solar PV and wind energy have witnessed significant cost reductions over the years, making them more economically competitive with conventional energy sources.

•             Technological advancements in solar PV modules, wind turbine design, and energy storage solutions have increased efficiency and performance, enhancing the attractiveness of these renewable energy options.

3.            Supportive Government Incentives:

•             Various government incentives, such as feed-in tariffs, tax credits, and grants, have encouraged investments in solar PV and wind energy projects.

•             Net metering policies, which allow consumers to sell excess electricity generated by their solar PV systems back to the grid, have also contributed to market growth.

4.            Increasing Energy Demand and Electrification:

•             Rising global energy demand, driven by population growth and economic development, creates opportunities for solar PV and wind energy to meet the increasing electricity needs.

•             Electrification trends, including the shift towards electric vehicles and the integration of renewable energy in heating and cooling systems, further drive market growth.

We recommend referring our Stringent datalytics firm, industry publications, and websites that specialize in providing market reports. These sources often offer comprehensive analysis, market trends, growth forecasts, competitive landscape, and other valuable insights into this market.

By visiting our website or contacting us directly, you can explore the availability of specific reports related to this market. These reports often require a purchase or subscription, but we provide comprehensive and in-depth information that can be valuable for businesses, investors, and individuals interested in this market.

“Remember to look for recent reports to ensure you have the most current and relevant information.”

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Market Segmentations:

Global Solar PV and Wind Energy Market: By Company

• RWE Group

• Enel Spa

• Xcel Energy Inc.

• ACCIONA

• Iberdrola

• EDF

• Vattenfall AB

• Tokyo Electric Power

• Tata Power

• Invenergy

• Innergex

Global Solar PV and Wind Energy Market: By Type

• Solar PV

• Wind Energy

Global Solar PV and Wind Energy Market: By Application

• Residential

• Commercial

• Industrial

Global Solar PV and Wind Energy Market: Regional Analysis

The Asia-Pacific region has been the largest market for solar PV and wind energy, with China as the biggest contributor to this growth. Other major countries in the region, such as India and Japan, have also been investing heavily in renewable energy, with supportive government policies and increasing demand for electricity. The region is expected to continue its dominance in the global market, driven by technological advancements, declining costs, and the need for sustainable energy sources.

Europe has been a key player in the global renewable energy market, with countries such as Germany, Spain, and Denmark leading the way. The region has set ambitious targets to reduce carbon emissions and increase the share of renewable energy in its energy mix. The solar PV and wind energy markets in Europe are expected to grow significantly, driven by favorable government policies and increasing public awareness of the need for sustainable energy.

The United States has been the largest market for wind energy in North America, with significant investments in the sector in recent years. The country has also seen a surge in solar PV installations, driven by declining costs and supportive policies at the state and federal levels. Canada has also been investing in renewable energy, with a growing market for wind energy.

Latin America has seen significant growth in the solar PV and wind energy markets in recent years, driven by supportive policies, declining costs, and increasing demand for electricity. Countries such as Brazil, Chile, and Mexico have been leading the way in the region, with ambitious targets to increase the share of renewable energy in their energy mix.

The Middle East and Africa region has been relatively slower in adopting solar PV and wind energy, due to the abundance of fossil fuel resources. However, the region has significant potential for renewable energy, and countries such as Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates have been investing heavily in the sector. The region is expected to see significant growth in the coming years, driven by declining costs and the need to diversify energy sources.

 Visit Report Page for More Details: https://stringentdatalytics.com/reports/solar-pv-and-wind-energy-market/6733/  

Reasons to Purchase Solar PV and Wind Energy Market Report:

• To obtain insights into industry trends and dynamics, including market size, growth rates, and important factors and difficulties. This study offers insightful information on these topics.

• To identify important participants and rivals: This research studies can assist companies in identifying key participants and rivals in their sector, along with their market share, business plans, and strengths and weaknesses.

• To comprehend consumer behaviour: these research studies can offer insightful information about customer behaviour, including preferences, spending patterns, and demographics.

• To assess market opportunities: These research studies can aid companies in assessing market chances, such as prospective new goods or services, fresh markets, and new trends.

• To make well-informed business decisions: These research reports give companies data-driven insights that they may use to plan their strategy, develop new products, and devise marketing and advertising plans.

In general, market research studies offer companies and organisations useful data that can aid in making decisions and maintaining competitiveness in their industry. They can offer a strong basis for decision-making, strategy formulation, and company planning.

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Stringent Datalytics offers both custom and syndicated market research reports. Custom market research reports are tailored to a specific client's needs and requirements. These reports provide unique insights into a particular industry or market segment and can help businesses make informed decisions about their strategies and operations.

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[nasa]

This photo contains both flight (flat in the foreground) and qualification assembly (upright in the background) versions of the Solar Array Sun Shield for NASA’s Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope. These panels will both shade the mission’s instruments and power the observatory.

Double Vision: Why Do Spacecraft Have Twin Parts?

Seeing double? You’re looking at our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope’s Solar Array Sun Shield laying flat in pieces in the foreground, and its test version connected and standing upright in the back. The Sun shield will do exactly what it sounds like –– shade the observatory –– and also collect sunlight for energy to power Roman.

These solar panels are twins, just like several of Roman’s other major components. Only one set will actually fly in space as part of the Roman spacecraft…so why do we need two?

Sometimes engineers do major tests to simulate launch and space conditions on a spare. That way, they don’t risk damaging the one that will go on the observatory. It also saves time because the team can do all the testing on the spare while building up the flight version. In the Sun shield’s case, that means fitting the flight version with solar cells and eventually getting the panels integrated onto the spacecraft.

Our Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope's primary structure (also called the spacecraft bus) moves into the big clean room at our Goddard Space Flight Center (top). While engineers integrate other components onto the spacecraft bus in the clean room, the engineering test unit (also called the structural verification unit) undergoes testing in the centrifuge at Goddard. The centrifuge spins space hardware to ensure it will hold up against the forces of launch.

Engineers at our Goddard Space Flight Center recently tested the Solar Array Sun Shield qualification assembly in a thermal vacuum chamber, which simulates the hot and cold temperatures and low-pressure environment that the panels will experience in space. And since the panels will be stowed for launch, the team practiced deploying them in space-like conditions. They passed all the tests with flying colors!

The qualification panels will soon pass the testing baton to the flight version. After the flight Solar Array Sun Shield is installed on the Roman spacecraft, the whole spacecraft will go through lots of testing to ensure it will hold up during launch and perform as expected in space.

For more information about the Roman Space Telescope, visit: www.nasa.gov/roman. You can also virtually tour an interactive version of the telescope here.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[shitpostingsapphic]

"I hate Caitlyn because of the system she represents. I'm so tired of people acting like we can'thate her for that."

Let's have a long, hard talk.

This argument IS made in direct comparison to the oppressive systems we see in real life, so let's first talk about how Caitlyn compares to real world oppressive systems, her faults and the ways she fails the people she serves, and then let's talk about how you're just fucking wrong about her and how you hate the wrong character.

Caitlyn is an enforcer. Stating the obvious. She is a member of a larger system she chose to be a part of, because she wanted to serve the people. She was ignorant of the system's corruption as we see throughout season 1. Her initial intentions with becoming an enforcer are because she wants to fight injustice, defy the stuff politics of Piltover that she was raised under, and have her own identity.

At the end of season 1, several things happen to Caitlyn. She is abducted naked from her home, held hostage for at minimum 24 hours, during which time an array of things could have happened to her but of which we know for certain left her TERRIFIED of the young girl with blue hair she was abducted by. She watches that same girl fire an explosive that kills her mother. Preceding this, she has been witness to the ways Silco has harmed the people of the undercity and how he had the enforcers in his pocket in order to do it. Ekko explicitly tells her this. He tells her how Silco has ruined lives and how the enforcers were the manpower that let it happen.

Caitlyn walks away from season 1 changed in many ways. She is brokenhearted and traumatized, but still holds a strong desire to protect the innocent people of both cities. Because of who she has been up to this point, her belief is that she can rectify the wrongs by using the power of her position to do good instead of aid corruption. Her asking Vi to become an enforcer to do as much is in bad taste, yes. Which she later apologizes for and takes ownership for. That doesn't remove the good intention behind it. And it doesn't negate that Vi can later see the logic behind it. Being able to take control of a bad situation and use that power to do good instead of abusing that power to do bad, is an incredibly shaky but important position to be in. And the whole point of Caitlyn's character is how she navigates that--can she use her position to do good? As per GOOD WRITING, she's not going to get it perfect until she learns and grows.

We can acknowledge the moral ambiguity of using the grey, how it does harm, while also acknowledging the WAY it was used and for what purpose was both smart, economical, and GOOD. Doing bad things for good reasons. That's what the use of the grey was.

I'm not going to get into the memorial much, but all I will say for that, is it's an excellent example of people twisting Caitlyn's words and underselling the pain she's going through. If you can't acknowledge the right Caitlyn has to be upset at the people who just violently disrupted a memorial for mourning the loss of loved ones, I don't think you care to have a conversation about the humane treatment of others. And using Caitlyn's anger and grief as a "see?? She hates Zaunites!!" is so fucking stupid I'm not going to entertain an argument for that.

Caitlyn's setback is her trauma, her ignorance, and her heartbreak. She still isn't a fully realized character throughout most of season 2. She's learning and growing and unfortunately that is at the expense of the people she lords over while enforcing martial law. But if we acknowledge that, we also have to acknowledge the ways she changed the system so that needless suffering and punishment didn't happen. Confronting Ambessa when violence is used unlawfully. Improving the prison food and banning the use of the most inhumane cells in Stillwater. Bare minimum? Yes. But still ways she showed that she saw the Zaunites as humans and not as flesh covered problems the way Salo does. Not as problems to get rid of the way Ambessa does.

If the reason for your ire is because Caitlyn is a figure in a corrupt system, then your hatred is misdirected. The point of Caitlyn is to show the ways the system needs to change, and how the people within it who want to do good can often be misguided, but that doesn't mean they aren't good people or that they can't do good within their position.

If you fundamentally disagree with that, there isn't much of an argument to be had, but I will say that your ire is still misdirected.

I never see you guys discuss Salo or Ambessa.

Salo represents true bigotry in the system. It's a position he maintains all the way up to when his mind is commandeered by Viktor and the hexcore. Salo is the type of person who functions on confirmation bias--he already has a prejudiced view of Zaunites, and will use any opportunity to say "see? Told you so! We should put them down." Compared directly to how Caitlyn talks about them, asks Vi to help fix the system, fights against the system going too far, actively makes adjustments to change the way the system treats Zaunites, the claims that Caitlyn is a bigot don't hold up.

Ambessa IS the system. She IS the oppressive force that indiscriminately will take and take and take and sees violence as a tool and not a consequence to be avoided at all costs the way Caitlyn does. And for some fucking reason, no one who criticizes Caitlyn gives any weight to Ambessa's actions, ever. They don't discuss the way she manufactures the attack on the memorial to manipulate public opinion on Zaunites, as well as manipulate Caitlyn. They don't discuss how she sets Caitlyn up to be pressured to take the position of Commander and uses her grief, promises her justice, in order to warm Caitlyn to her and keep her as an ally, a pawn she can use. They don't discuss how she sent Maddie to be a spy, to be in Caitlyn's bed and to be as intimately close to her as possible, to make sure Caitlyn still was behaving the way she needed in order to see her plan through.

When discussing the manipulative, exploitative, and violent nature of oppressive systems, Caitlyn has become the scapegoat, when it is people like Salo and Ambessa who deserve your blame and your ire.

You wonder why people don't take your complaints about Caitlyn seriously? That's why. Because the show gave you very bold examples of oppressive individuals in control of the systems you hate, and you ignore both of them for the sake of hating on a beloved lesbian character, who is beloved because she is flawed and good natured and whose journey we enjoy because it's all about learning what to do when you're within a system that pulls you at every direction to do evil, and you still find a way to do good.

Do some more think pieces on Salo and Ambessa. Then maybe we can have nuanced discussions on Caitlyn.

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Chordata - Chondrichthyes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Chondrichthyes is a class of jawed fish, commonly called “cartilaginous fish” due to their skeletons composed mainly of cartilage, making them distinct from all other vertebrates. They are comprised of the superorders Selachimorpha (“Sharks”), Batoidea (“Rays”), and Holocephalimorpha (“Chimaeras”).

Chondrichthyans breath through gills but lack opercula (gill coverings) and swim bladders. They have paired fins, paired nares (nostrils), and placoid (tooth-shaped) scales (except for electric rays, which have loose, soft skin). These placoid scales, also called dermal denticles, provide protection and streamlining, giving the animal’s skin a sandpaper-y feel. All chondrichthyans breathe through five to seven pairs of gills, depending on the species. As a general rule, pelagic species usually must keep swimming to keep oxygenated water moving through their gills, while demersal species can actively pump water in through their spiracles (a small hole or slit behind each eye) and out through their gills. Most larger, pelagic species no longer have spiracles. Chondrichthyans have many sensory organs to perceive the world around them. Their nostrils are attached to powerful olfactory organs. Around their face are a network of electroreceptors called Ampullae of Lorenzini, which allow them to sense electrical fields. Their lateral line has modified epithelial cells which sense motion, vibration, and pressure in the water around them. However, their sound-detecting apparatus has limited range and is typically more powerful at lower frequencies. Some species have electricity-producing organs which can be used for defense and predation. Chondrichthyans have a diverse array of shapes and sizes, ranging from the 10 cm (3.9 in) long, electric Finless Sleeper Ray (Temera hardwickii) to the over 10 m (33 ft) long Whale Shark (Rhincodon typus). All species are carnivores: some predatory, some ambush-hunters, and some filter-feeders. At least one species is omnivorous. Chondrichthyans have internal fertilization and most species give live birth, while some lay eggs. There is no parental care after birth, though some chondrichthyans do guard their eggs.

Chondrichthyans are considered to have evolved from Acanthodians, which appear from the Early Silurian. The first sharks began to evolve in the Devonian Period, though, while often claimed to be relatively unchanged, modern forms did not start appearing until the Early Jurassic.

Propaganda under the cut:

Mentioned briefly above, the Bonnethead Shark (Sphyrna tiburo), a small species of hammerhead, is the only shark known to be omnivorous. While it feeds on crustaceans, molluscs, and small fish, it also ingests large amounts of seagrass, which has been found to make up around 62% of gut content mass.

Also mentioned briefly above, Electric Rays (order Torpediniformes) are known for being capable of producing an electric discharge, ranging from 8 to 220 volts, depending on species, used to stun prey and for defense.

There are over 500 different species of sharks, and only a dozen could be considered dangerous to humans. That being said, of those 12, most do not seem to like the taste of human flesh, and bites are usually accidental or exploratory.

Many pelagic chondrichthyans occasionally breach, leaping out of the water. This can be done for hunting purposes, as a mating ritual, to shake off parasites, or even just for fun!

Today, all species of Sawfish (family Pristidae) are critically endangered. However, they were relatively common in the Cretaceous, where they were likely a common food source for Spinosaurus.

(Confusingly, Sawfish are a type of ray while Sawsharks (order Pristiophoriformes) are a type of shark. Sawsharks live in the deep sea and are rarely seen, while sawfish live in coastal and brackish waters.)

Kitefin Sharks (family Dalatiidae) have bioluminescent organs which glow blue in the dark

Chimaeras have a strange pair of teeth in their lower jaw which look like rodent incisors, giving them the common names “ratfish” or “rabbitfish.”

Great White Sharks (Carcharodon carcharias) are regularly hunted by orcas, and when one is confronted by an orca it will generally flee and not return to that area for up to a year.

Manta Rays (genus Mobula) are incredibly smart. They were the first “fish” in the world to pass the “mirror test” (ie show self-awareness by recognizing themselves in a mirror rather than seeing the reflected image as another manta ray). They also have highly-developed long-term memory, form friendships, and play with each other by blowing bubbles and breaching out of the water.

[cj-schlatt]

Take Me Out - Part One

Pairing: MLB player!Schlatt x gn!sideline reporter!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Schlatt is the new first baseman for the New York Mets, and you’re the team’s new sideline reporter.

Content: Fluff!

A/N: I went with the Mets over the Yankees because a.) I’m a Red Sox fan, and b.) the Yankees are strict and only allow mustaches (long live the chops). Enjoy! :)

You feel like a kid on the first day of school. You’ve got that nervous, butterflies-in-your-stomach kind of feeling, but in a good way.

It’s your first official day as the sideline reporter for the New York Mets, and you couldn’t be more excited. All those long nights of studying, all your hard work to obtain your communications degree, have finally paid off.

You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you enter Clover Park for the first time. You’re in beautiful Port St. Lucie, Florida, and Spring Training is just getting underway. The smell of freshly-cut grass hangs in the air as you watch the players running drills on the field.

It’s here, as you speak to a member of the production team near the dugout, that you catch your first glimpse of him.

His laugh is what you hear first. Instinctively, you turn towards the sound, and that’s when you see him. He’s standing near first base, facing away from you, showing off the number 99 that covers his broad back.

Schlatt, everyone calls him, despite the surname stitched across the back of his jersey. His reputation precedes him. Everyone has heard the scouting reports, seen the viral videos passed around social media. In the minor leagues, he’s been known for his antics, taunting runners on the opposing team when they reach him at first base. It’s his first year being called up to the majors, and he’s one of the big stories for the team, the player to watch.

You’ve done your homework. You know all about Schlatt and his rather colorful personality. He’s certainly one of the more animated players in the sport, always fired up after a solid hit or a particularly impressive defensive play. He’s cocky, and, honestly, he has every right to be. He’s the Mets’ number one prospect, an above-average first baseman and strong power hitter. You know he’s going to be a handful in interviews, but you’re up for the challenge.

You can’t tell from this angle, but you know that if Schlatt were to turn around, you’d see the infamous mutton chops. Second to his spectacular playing ability, his unusual facial hair has been one of his defining characteristics since he was first drafted. Love it or hate it, it gets the fans talking, keeping that oh-so important spotlight on him.

You’re pulled out of your musings by a shout of, “Look out!” followed by a baseball whizzing past your head, narrowly avoiding you. You look to the field to see a few players standing around sheepishly.

“You okay?” To your surprise, it’s Schlatt who turns to ask you.

You give him a thumbs up. “All good,” you call out to him.

With a satisfied nod, he turns back to face the field.

It’s going to be an interesting season, you think.

You’re packed into the press room like sardines, shoulder-to-shoulder with fellow reporters. You all crowd around the podium where Schlatt sits, an array of microphones and cell phones in front of his face to catch his every word.

The press conference begins, and you’re called upon to ask the first question.

You open your mouth to speak.

Before you can get a word out, an older, male reporter begins talking over you. “What do you think—”

“Hey,” Schlatt cuts the reporter off sharply. “Let ‘em speak.” He gestures to you.

You feel your cheeks heat as seemingly every pair of eyes in the room turns towards you. You take a breath, then, as calmly as you can, ask your question: “What’s your takeaway from day one of Spring Training?”

Schlatt hums thoughtfully before answering, “That we look good out there, but we still have a lot of work to do before we’re ready for Opening Day.” He leans back a little in his chair and adjusts his cap. “That all?”

“One more thing: got any advice for a rookie reporter, as a rookie yourself?”

He grins wide. “Just enjoy it. We’re in the big leagues, baby!” he whoops, and the crowd erupts in laughter and scattered applause.

Before moving onto the next reporter, you swear Schlatt shoots a wink in your direction.

Spring Training flies by. Before you know it, you’re on a plane to New York for Opening Day. The sun is shining bright on Citi Field, helping to warm the chilly air.

You’re trying your best to soak it all in. This is what you’ve dreamed of for so long, and you want to enjoy every moment of it.

What an exciting Opening Day it turns out to be. The Mets and Phillies have gone back and forth, earning runs and keeping the score close throughout the game.

It’s now the bottom of the ninth, and the teams are tied three-to-three. There are two outs, no one on base, and Schlatt is up at bat. The count is full—three balls, two strikes. It all comes down to the next pitch.

You watch with bated breath as the Phillies pitcher throws a blazing fastball towards the plate. Schlatt swings the bat, and—CRACK! Just from the sound, you know it’s gone, and Schlatt does, too. He stands in the batter’s box for a few moments, watching the ball sail into the stands, before beginning his victory trot around the bases.

The crowd is going absolutely crazy. Lights are flashing all around, and music is blaring through the stadium speakers. The Mets dugout empties to meet Schlatt at home plate, where they convene in a huge group, shouting and high-fiving one another.

As the celebration on the field dwindles and players are headed off the field, you’re able to get Schlatt’s attention for a post-game interview. You can hear Gary, the announcer, in your ear, setting it up for the viewers at home.

“Schlatt!” you have to practically yell over the crowd. “That was amazing! What’s going through your mind right now?”

He’s breathing heavily, standing with his hands on his hips and leaning in to hear you better.

You think he starts to talk, but you’re suddenly doused in ice-cold liquid. You gasp and instinctively try to back away, but it’s too late. You realize, belatedly, that another Mets player has dumped the Gatorade cooler in celebration, but seems to have missed his mark.

“What the fuck, man?!” Schlatt shouts at his teammate, instinctively putting an arm around your shoulder, as if to shield you from another onslaught.

You shiver, not completely sure if it’s from the unexpected contact or the fact that you’re soaking wet in New York in early April. Maybe it’s a little bit of both.

The station must have cut back to the booth by now. At the very least, the audio will have been muted momentarily when Schlatt swore. Still, you’re pretty sure that, even though the camera is there, it’s not broadcasting you in all your drowned rat glory.

“Fuckin’ idiot,” Schlatt mutters to himself before focusing his attention on you. “Are you alright? Lemme get you a towel.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” you try to tell him, but he’s already jogging towards the dugout and returning moments later with a clean towel, ironically emblazoned with the Gatorade logo.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the towel and attempting, maybe in vain, to dry yourself off. You’re at least able to get the worst of it so there is no longer Gatorade running into your eyes, which is an improvement.

Schlatt crosses his arms and shakes his head. “I’m sorry about him.”

To be honest, you’re surprised he’s still here, still talking to you. You figured he’d want to get out of here as quickly as possible, but here he stands, looking genuinely concerned.

“It’s alright,” you try to brush it off.

“No, it’s not,” he insists. “I’ll talk to him, make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

You smile appreciatively. “Thank you,” you say again.

He smiles back at you softly. It’s so unlike him, you think—or, at least, so unlike the version of himself that he presents on the field and in interviews. It’s like you’re getting a peek at the real Schlatt, the man behind the persona.

You’re whisked off the field soon after. The production team assures you that you don’t have to stick around for the post-game press conferences, insisting that you go home and get cleaned up, for which you’re very grateful.

One very uncomfortable (but thankfully short) walk later, you’re back at your apartment. You quickly peel off your ruined outfit and hop in the shower, eager to wash off the day (and the Gatorade).

Soon, you’re curled up on the couch, cozy in your pajamas. It’s then that you feel your phone buzz, pulling it out of your pocket to reveal a wall of notifications. Confused, you unlock your phone, trying to make sense of the influx of Twitter mentions.

You nearly drop your phone when you open Twitter.

There, on your screen, is a video of you, microphone in hand as you begin interviewing Schlatt, before the Gatorade shower interrupts you both. The video doesn’t end there, though. You watch in disbelief as Schlatt puts his arm around you and continues talking to you, unaware that the camera is still rolling. Sure, there are a few moments where the audio is muted to cover up Schlatt’s f-bombs, but it appears that SNY aired your entire interaction with Schlatt.

You scroll down, eyebrows raising as you read through the replies. There are screenshots of Schlatt with his arm around you, followed by incomprehensible strings of letters and an impressive amount of emojis. You don’t really know what to make of it, and you try to put it out of your mind as you get up to make yourself dinner.

An hour or so later, you get a text from an unknown number:

can we talk?

A second message comes through moments later:

it’s schlatt

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think! :)

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter One

Pairing: Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest. Now, with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans bring you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Word Count: 67+ and counting (of the whole fic)

Chapters: 10/??

Warnings: Minors DNI! 18+! May contain disturbing, gruesome, and graphic sexual scenes. Graphic violence. Blood. Obsession. Mentions of abuse. Mentions of substance abuse. Trigger warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter. 

Link to Masterlist: Masterlist

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Author note: Hoteliers, This is my first attempt at a fanfic, but I was just so inspired and wanted to post it somewhere after writing like +67K words (and counting). So here goes nothing I guess?

<3 Stay Smutty

Chapter One - The Commercial

Content Warning: None but let me know if I missed any!

“Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent than the one derived from fear…” - Mahatma Gandhi

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Your fingers find the brass handle as anxiety builds in the back of your throat. 

Are you nervous? Why are you nervous? The commercial seemed so inviting and everyone seemed so nice - even if it was a bit glitchy in some frames. If they are indeed as altruistic as they appear, then you’ll be fine! 

But, what if they don’t accept you? 

Nonsense, you just need to show that you care, that you can help. After all, Princess Morningstar wouldn’t turn help away, would she? You were there in the courtyard a few days ago when Heaven’s clock ticked down from one year to 6 months: 182 days right before your eyes. Damn… But it gave you an opening - a reason to repent as opposed to just showing up out of the blue and inventing some backstory in an attempt to explain your sudden desire to achieve redemption. It was an opportunity you couldn’t refuse. 

“Okay, so the Extermination is coming in six months instead of a year. No big deal…” 

As you stepped into the Hotel, you couldn’t help but be underwhelmed by the state of the place. From the outside it seemed big and glamorous - despite the random bits of cell phone tower and… was that a mast from a ship? On the inside, it was worse. Way worse. It wasn’t gross, it was an array of stuff… that was probably the best way to put it. The carpet was torn, the wallpaper peeling, parts of the wall had been tacked together with newer planks of wood to repair unknown sources of damage. It was… Well at least it didn’t smell… that bad… 

Emerging into the foyer, small suitcase in hand - after all, you didn’t own much - you searched for the front desk, but the only thing resembling any sort of check-in area was a bar where a cat-bird thing was organizing bottles. 

To your left was a small inlet before a fireplace, fit with television and radio where two demons sat, listening to a blonde haired bellhop pace.

��… well just handle it! Right!?” The girl grabbed at her hair.

No, not a bellhop. Princess Charlie Morningstar. God, she looked just like her dad. The only thing she got from Lilith was her height. Probably a good thing…

Your heart sank at the sight of her. Biting back the flood of memories threatening to spill down your face, you take a deep breath and enter. 

“Yes,” a grey demon stood, a waterfall of dark hair brushed the floor as she walked. “We will.” She grabs Charlie’s shoulders, forcing her to stop pacing. 

They still hadn’t noticed you. Was this eavesdropping? Were you being rude? That wouldn’t make for a great first impression. 

You took a few hesitant steps forward hoping they’d hear your heels clack against the wood.

“Oh please,” the spider-looking thing sitting on the couch scoffed, staring down at his phone as he talked. “Ya’ had less than half a chance before you started all this salvation bullshit. And now… ain’t no silver linin’, toots.” 

You cleared your throat, having practically snuck up on the group. 

“Oh my gosh!” The blonde squeaked as the grey demon with ridiculously long hair pulled a spear on you, stepping before the Princess. 

You dropped the suit case immediately, raising your arms to show you meant no harm.

“Who are you? What are you doing sneaking around?” She demanded.

Your eyes flit to the “X” eye patch, then to the silver tip mere inches from your nose.

Oh shit, this girl’s the Fallen. Relax, you accounted for that. So long as she doesn’t recognize you…

“I’m sorry!” You squeak, taking a half step back. She follows, her spear not leaving your face. “I tried making noise but you must not have heard me. I was just looking to check-in but…”

“Huh!” The Princess gasped so loud it made your ears pop. 

Pushing the ex-Exorcist - huh, funny - aside the blond grabs your shoulders and squeezes. “Are you a guest!?” Her eyes sparkled. 

“Well, yeah. I was hoping…” you didn’t get a chance to finish before she brought you into a hug so tight you couldn’t breathe. She lifted you off your feet and spun you in a circle before placing you back on the ground. 

“Yay! Vaggie, our very first guest!” She sang. 

“Hey!” The spider finally looked up from his phone. “I’m sittin’ right ‘ere ya’ know?” 

Did he have six eyes or two? Hard to tell but the pink dots decorating his face blinked when he did. 

Creepy.

“Okay, hun,” the Fallen drops her spear, taking Charlie by the arm in an endearing way, but you really knew it was to hold her back. “Let’s give our guest some space. Let her breathe. She can’t be redeemed if you suffocate her and she dies… Again.” 

“Right,” she laughs, reigning herself in. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Her arms fan out to the room, gesturing to the rundown establishment. 

You musture a genuine smile, not because you’re impressed with the place but because the Princess’ happiness was infectious.

“My name is Charlie!” She takes your hand in hers.

“My name is Thestral,” you answer between the vigorous shakes rolling up your arm. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” the Fallen pulls Charlie away from you. “I’m Vaggie. The guy on the couch is Angel and Husk is behind the bar.” 

Angel gives you a mindless wave, frowning at something on his phone. The bar cat tips his hat to you before pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

Was the bartender supposed to drink the supply? Also, wasn’t it barely nine in the morning? 

“Let me get your bag!” Charlie snatches the hardback suitcase before you have a chance to protest. Dragging you by the elbow, she insists upon a tour.

The Hotel was cute - if not a weird hodgepodge of thrown together dimensions. The bar was clearly cut from somewhere else, the piano room is definitely not of this century, and don’t get you started on the pool. All in all however, it was cute. You could see yourself here, in the library reading late at night with a glass of red, in the music room practicing your piano, on the back balcony enjoying the breeze and screams of innocents. It wasn’t perfect - nothing compared to the luxury you experienced before Hell - but it felt home-y. 

“This is you!” Charlie pulls a key from her pocket as she stops before a door. “Angel is to the left and Alastor is just across the hall.” Grabbing your arm once more, she drags you inside.

It’s cute but humble - something you’d expect from a bed and breakfast and not a city hotel. The room is huge, with a four post bed wrapped in white sheets, neatly tucked into the sides military style. To your left is a small sitting area with a couch and coffee table. Past that were two doors, one leading to a small walk-in closet and the other a tile bathroom.

Frankly, coming from sharing a cramped city apartment in Cannibal Town to this was a huge step up as far as you were concerned. 

“Here you are!” She dropped a black key in your hand, a cat’s eye decorating the handle. Finally, a room to call your own. “Nifty cleans on Sundays and…”

“Wait, my room gets cleaned?” You scrunched your nose in confusion. 

“Of course! We don’t want you to have anything to worry about when you stay with us. Redemption is the goal, afterall!” Charlie sang. 

That was going to be a problem… 

Charlie stood staring at you for a long moment, her eyes sparkling in the low light. Her hands cupped her chin as she smiled at you with such emotion you were surprised her face didn’t split in half right there. She looked like a small child, waiting for a candy bar or something. 

God, you didn’t realize how enthusiastic she would be about all this. Now is definitely not the time to tell her you had no intentions of being redeemed. You were just here for the chaos. Frankly, any normal person would feel guilty right about now, but not you. 

Oh, you had far bigger plans for Ms. Morningstar, she just didn’t know it yet. 

“Okay,” Vaggie steps up, grabbing her by the collar. “We’ll let you get unpacked. It’s Sunday so brunch is at eleven in the kitchen. We’ll come get you and show you the way. If you need anything there’s a rotary phone by the bed, just call Husk at the bar. He’s always there…” 

“A rotary phone?” You scrunch your nose.

Sure enough, a black rotary phone sat on the bedside table. What century was this? Cannibal Town was stuck in the 1900s but at least they had cell phones. 

“Yeah, the Hotel Manager is a bit outdated with his tastes…” Vaggie grumbles. You sensed tension in her comment but didn’t ask for further details.

“Anyway!” Charlie puts a hand on your shoulder. “We’re really, REALLY glad you’re here.” She breathed in your face, her voice cracking with the threat of tears. 

God, she even had Lucifer’s mannerisms…

You huffed, blowing off the extra emotions her smile pushed into you. “Thank you for taking me in.”

Watching as the Exorcist pulled the Princess back down the hallway, you shut your door and collapsed against the wood. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. Charlie was going to be someone you could only handle in small doses. 

The Princess definitely didn’t recognize you and neither did Vaggie. She might be Hell Royalty but she was oblivious. 

Did she know about Vaggie? Maybe she did and has already accepted it. This place is about second chances after all. 

It didn’t take you long to unpack, after all you didn’t have many personal possessions. A few sets of clothes, some boots and heels, your toiletries and makeup… The suitcase was only half full when you packed it with every possession you owned. Now all you could do was stand before the mirror in the bathroom and stare at yourself as the anxiety began to build again. You fixed your red lipstick over and over until it drove you mad. Throwing the makeup back into your bag, your mind turned to your outfit. 

You were dressed in black slacks which sat high on your hips, fanning out at your legs. Tucked into your waistband was a white button up, giving you the hourglass appearance. Your silver hair was twisted into a bun at the back of your head, a metal clip holding it in place. Your eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, your yellow irises emitting their own form of light. 

Out of all the animalistic appearances in Hell, you were gifted the rare form of a somewhat normal human shape. No tail, no ears, no horns - well, in your normal state anyway. It was just you, with skin as pale white as Charlie’s and a nose tipped in black. You stood a normal five foot four, but in heels you could argue five and a half. You didn’t have canines as sharp and distinct as others, but hey who needed them? You preferred fighting with your hands, anyway. 

Frankly, you were boring compared to the Sinners and Natives of Hell. The most interesting note was the tattoo which spanned your back from shoulder blades to your hips, but that wasn’t important at the moment. 

Your mind returned to your clothes again. They were nice, nothing too flashy and definitely not Velvette brand, but were they too much? Weekend brunches in Cannibal Town were always such a classy affair, something you were expected to dress up for despite the messy array of food which was served. 

Was that expected here? 

As if on cue, a door opens in the hallway and footsteps echo across the carpet. 

Perhaps you should ask. 

Racing to the door, you peak your head out to find Angel heading to the stairs, his nose stuck in his phone. 

“Uhm, excuse me?” You chirp. It was barely audible and he wasn’t paying attention but you were a new voice, which definitely drew him from whatever battle was playing itself out on his screen. 

“Oh, hey!” He tucked the cell phone back into his pocket. His face contorted into a smile, he was doing his best not to show his frustration but it was still quite obvious. “They put ya’ right next to me aye?” He leans against the doorframe, one arm on the wall, the other three at his hips. “Just a fair warning. I can get a little loud. If ya’ know what I mean?” He winks at you, a knowing smile spreading across his sharp teeth as he elbows your side.

God, he was tall, he’d have to be like six foot three or something. 

Up close, and with his attention fully on you, you could finally study his eyes: right eye sclera black, left white. Someone owned him, but with restrictive conditions. 

You already knew the answer: Valentino. Hey, what can ya’ say? You did your homework. 

“Do you guys dress up for brunch or is it more casual?” You smiled, doing your best not to stare at the pink dots blinking back at you on his cheeks. Still creepy. 

“Oh, uh, I dunno, toots. I normally just go in whatever I have on.” He gestured to his pink striped shirt and long boots. 

Casual it is then.

“But if ya’ prefer. I could go in nothing at all,” he purrs, his eyebrows wiggling at you suggestively. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. You got the sense that it wasn’t genuine flirting. That he was trying to make you smile more than anything else. He enjoys entertaining others like that. Probably why he became a Porn Star - and such a famous one at that. 

His face lit up at your laugh. 

“Great, the wire in this bra is killing me!” You mime a pain in your back, eliciting a laugh from the spider demon himself. 

“I like yous,” he holds out a hand to shake. “Names Angel Dust.” 

“Thestral,” you shook his furry hand - he had so many, you wondered how he went shopping for shirts. 

“Thestral? Like the dead horses from ‘arry Potter?” 

“You know your JK Rowling?” 

Angel had to have died in like the 40s/50s - from what research you did before coming here. How did he know about the books and movies made popular in the 2010s? 

“Yeah, she ended up down here after she died. Kept writing weird shit about her characters. Really changed my views on the Potterverse. It was shocking for a while but you can only be so entertaining on Sinstagram and Vitter for so long these days.” He shrugged. 

“Huh, for some reason that doesn’t surprise me, but thank you. The last place I lived, everyone was expected to dress for meals and I just wanted to be sure.” 

“No problem, toots. If ya’ don’t mind me askin’, how long yous been down here? If ya’ didn’t know about the Potter thang, it couldn’t have been that long?” His accent: New York? 

“Just shy of six years, actually,” you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously, feeling the bubbles beginning to fester inside you. 

You’ve done work to gather information before, but you’ve never had to act like you were now. You were always behind a mask… How many details were too many to share? 

“Oh, damn, just shy of being a Fleshy!” He smiles. 

“A Fleshy?” You scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, the living or whatnot.” He pulls out his phone again, frowning at the notification screen before pulling up an app. Something was definitely bothering him. “Hey, whatcha say we head down a little early? I can pull up her Vitter page and show ya’ some good ones?” The spider demon smiled, frustration weighing down his eyebrows. He had a single gold tooth which sparkled in the low light. 

“Sure!” You tried to respond not too excitedly. 

This was the plan. Get in early with one of the Hotel mates and use it as a way to get information on the others. 

You had thought it was going to be Husk. What bartender didn’t love gossip? But here was Angel offering himself up on a silver platter. 

You only had about an hour before brunch was served, but those sixty minutes laying in the alcove by the fireplace were the most hilarious minutes of your life. Angel had you laughing so hard you were crying. Things were going well. Despite the constant text messages from Valentino you pretended not to notice chime across the screen.

At about eleven, a small girl named Nifty - who introduced herself as the housemaid - emerged from the kitchen to announce that brunch was ready, and as everyone piled into the room and found their designated places, you realized you didn’t know where to go. It was like being the new kid at school walking into the lunchroom with a sack lunch and not a friend in the world to rescue you. 

“Hey” Angel waved you to the only available seat left, which just so happened to be at the head. “Sit next to me, will ya’?” 

Relief.

“No! That’s Mr. Alastor’s seat!” Nifty protested from her place by the oven. Her entire body practically vibrated with energy. 

“Mr. Alastor?” That name definitely did not come up in your research.

“Relax, Tiny. Smiles is on the terrace this morning drinkin’ his tea.” Angel leaned back in his chair, one set of arms folded behind his head. “What he doesn’t know won’t kill ‘em. Or maybe it will and we can finally be free o’ him and his creepy, ol’ timey ways. Either way, we’ll be fine.” 

You blinked a few times before hesitantly falling into the seat. Nifty gave a great sigh as she watched you sit, not liking it but allowing it. She busied herself with serving platters of food, her lips twisted in a pout.

It’s a chair. You didn’t think it was that big of a deal? Maybe he was one of those people who was territorial with their things? 

As you sat and passed the food around, you couldn’t help the hairs which prickled on the back of your neck. How could you have missed another guest at the Hotel? You swore you wrote down everyone you saw in that glitchy commercial and did thorough research before coming here. You were never this sloppy. 

“Can I get you anything to drink, Thestral?” Charlie was at the fridge with five different bottles of liquid in her hand, eagerly awaiting your answer. 

“Coffee would be great,” you smiled through a mouth full of eggs, one hand over your face to be polite. God, Nifty was a great cook. You usually never ate breakfast but this was amazing. 

The Hotel inhabitants sat and talked like family. This place has only been open what? Two weeks? And already they got along like they’ve lived together for years. It was kinda cute actually but spelled issues for your plans. A close-knit group like this - especially so fast - only meant it was going to be harder to work your way in. Sure, Angel hung out with you for the past hour and you had a great time, but that was just surface level stuff. You were going to need to dig deeper. 

“No! Nobody look at me,” Husk grumbled from a few seats down. “That machine is a nightmare.” He motioned to the silver espresso machine sitting on the corner countertop behind you. 

It looked brand new, barely been touched! A machine like that probably cost hundreds and they weren’t using it?

“I’m sorry.” Charlie frowned from her place by the fridge. “We’ve had it for a while and no one can figure it out. Husk took a look at it last and although he tried, we got nowhere. Nifty bought beans for it and everything…”

A small smile found your lips, “Mind if I take a look?” 

“Goodluck with that kiddo, that machine is cursed,” Husk buried his head in his arms, the orange juice in front of him bubbling with alcohol - which you would guess was more booze than orange at how much of his flask you saw him pouring into it earlier. 

Seems like everyone knows, as no one glanced his way when it happened, but no one seemed to mind his drinking habits this early in the morning. Most likely a recurrent behavior then…

Husk was an old soul, probably the oldest one in this room. The cat had a history of gambling debts which mysteriously disappeared one day - the day he fell from power. You didn’t know the exact details but you heard it wasn’t pretty afterwards. The Vees swooped in pretty fast and gobbled up what remained of the fallen Overlord’s territory. It’s part of the reason they are where they are now. You wondered if the others knew about him? Maybe, seeing as how he’s found himself at the hotel built on second chances. 

Taking the beans from Nifty, you quickly check over the machine. It’s a simple Breville Barista model, nothing too top of the line, but still a commercial appliance. 

You wonder who they sent out on the errand to get this because they clearly had no idea what they were getting. This thing was meant for a high end coffee chain, to be used for hours straight, not sitting in a run down hotel’s kitchen. Regardless, you knew the model and how to use it.

Preheating the machine, you fill the grinder with beans before asking, “Hey Husk, pick your poison.”

He blinks at you a few times before answering. “Double espresso.” 

Simple enough.

Clicking a single wall basket into the portafilter, you fill the metal device with ground beans before tapping it flat. Sliding it into the machine with a click, you grab two shot glasses and watch as the brew fills to the line, the fresh scent of chocolate, caramel, and nuts fill the kitchen. You pour both into a white glass and send it down the table to Husk who sits dumbfounded at the end of the kitchen. In fact, everyone had stopped eating completely to watch you work.

Anxiety bubbles in your stomach as you count the eyes boring into you. 

Oh, fuck. You drew too much attention to yourself. 

“Fuck, kid. This is good.” Husk chirps from the end of the table, having taken his first sip. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

“I worked at a cafe just outside Cannibal Town when I first got here,” you rub the back of your neck, an uncomfortable laugh escaping your lips. “They had a machine just like this, but far bigger.” 

That was true. After you fell, you were set up with a place to stay and a job at the local coffee shop which sat inbetween Cannibal Town and the border zone. It didn’t only serve certain… appetites, but was meant for a wider audience. You served everything from finger cakes (yes, fingers in the cakes) to bagels and cream cheese alongside the coffee creations. 

“Oooh, Cannibal Town. This kid’s got bite,” Angel laughs. “I didn’t know you swung that way.” The spider demon shovels another pile of eggs onto his plate. He ate a lot. 

“Oh, no. Not really, I just happened to… land there.” Technically you weren’t lying. 

That first day in Hell was brutal. You smacked into cement face first, a pile of blood and broken bones. Luckily the streets weren’t crowded, and you were found and taken care of before anyone even noticed. 

“So you just stayed in Cannibal Town for fun?” Vaggie didn’t look impressed. In fact, she looked suspicious - ever the hypervigilant soldier she was designed to be. 

“Well…” There it was, the rubbing on the back of your neck again. By the end of today, your skin was going to be raw. 

God, why was this so much easier with a mask on? 

“Hey!” Charlie cut in, clearly sensing your discomfort. “You don’t have to tell us.” She cups your hands within her own. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters. We can get to know you at your own pace. Don’t push yourself. Okay?” 

You offer her a sweet smile.

Wow, the Princess was really buying your act - or lack thereof, by how anxious this job was making you. 

“Now, do you know how to make a cappuccino?” She motioned back to the machine. You silently thanked her for the change in conversation. 

A genuine smile formed on your lips, “what kind of milk?” 

The rest of the brunch passed quickly after you showed off your artistic masterpiece that was to become Vaggie’s coffee. The Princess ordered the beverage for her girlfriend, and after making a butterfly out of the milk atop the bubbles everyone else quickly got in line and ordered their own. 

It didn’t bother you, in fact it made you more comfortable. You got to observe their behavior and interactions as a silent third party noting the ways in which they teased each other. 

Husk could be a grump but you got the sense that he was a big softie. You couldn’t tell if Angel was actually flirting with the cat demon or just pushing his buttons, either way, the barkeep slunked out, flask in hand, with red cheeks. 

When the chair started rattling, Nifty was prohibited from drinking anymore caffeine. She put up a pretty good fight but as soon as she saw a bug, she took off after it, needle in hand. 

Angel returned to the couch, face in his phone, clearly stressed about something. 

After helping with the dishes - Charlie protested but you insisted - she invited you to join the three of them by the fire where you had found them earlier that morning. You didn’t really have anything else to do, other than to try and win over the Hotel natives. 

You could go hide in your room - the Lord knows your social meter needed the break. The group was welcoming but was… a lot. Especially Charlie, but the Princess and Vaggie had questions about the commercial and how Sinners were handling the recent date change for the Extermination. You shrugged and offered whatever you could - which wasn’t a lot. 

“They’re desperate,” you answered. 

“That’s right, they’re desperate. Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the Extermination,” Vaggie smiled, smacking her fist against her hand. 

“Worked for me,” you shrugged, watching Angel from the corner of your eye. 

Your heart melted a little for the spider demon. Valentino was known to be ruthless and manipulative - and the way he treated women… It was why you never took a job from the Overlord, let alone gave him a card. In fact, none of the Vees had your card. You didn’t like them, but you didn’t need to see how it affected Angel to decide that. 

“This would be a perfect time to recruit more Sinners for the Hotel! We should get more rooms ready!” Charlie beamed. Of course she would find a way to spin this into something good. 

“Cute idea and all, but are you really gonna go out in all this?” Angel turns his phone around, videos of the Doomsday Distract flash across the screen. 

It was pretty chaotic, but when was that place not on fire? 

“Well, it’s not like all Sinners are going to show up on our doorstep like Thestral did.” Charlie offered, motioning to you. 

She wasn’t wrong… 

BOOM! 

Ah, perfect timing, Princess. 

The entire Hotel rocked as dust and debris filled the foyer burning your lungs and eyes. 

“Show yourself, Alassstor!” A voice echoed from outside. 

The four of you ran to the now collapsed wall, veering into the streets to get a better look. Husk simply rolled his eyes and took another drink. 

He was used to this? 

Floating above the cobblestone streets was a yellow blimp equipped with an army of… eggs? 

“Who are you?” A voice chimed from above, but it was… different - static-y…

“Who am I? Who am I?! I am the great Ssssssir Pentiousssss!” Deep within the zeppelin stood a black and yellow snake at the helm. He was dressed to the nines in army regalia. 

Hmm, Sir Pentious? Had you heard of him before? You wracked your brain trying to think but nothing immediately came of mind. He had resources - clearly Carmilla Carmine supplies him by the brand on the metal - but was he a threat? He did put a hole through the building. 

You spun studying his dirty work. 

A missile? Sloppy, but still a step up from the lowest rung of demon. 

“Inventor, architect of dessstruction, villain extraordinaire!” The snake twirls his arms, gesturing to himself and his work. 

You scoff. Yeah right… 

“Ooh you tell 'em boss!” The eggs chime. 

What the fuck…? The eggs are sentient? Now that’s kind of interesting. 

Testing the waters, you let an invisible finger of power slip from you and slither over to the zeppelin. It poked and prodded till it found a way through the metal before coming to rest by the snake demon’s tail. Gently, you caressed his form, searching for the power his soul possessed. 

Yes, he definitely still had his soul, but from what you gathered - or rather, lack of what you gathered - this demon was no more a threat than a mosquito was to an elephant. But a better question was, what brought him here? 

A chime of static fills the air, like little bolts of electricity, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. 

What the…?

You spin, checking behind you to find the source of the static snaking its way down your spine, but no one was there. 

Charlie yelps, bringing your attention back to the group, as a trail of shadow crawls between her feet, giving way to a demon in red materializing from the darkness. 

How did he do that? 

The demon’s back was to you, his attention fully on the blimp. You didn’t recognize his silhouette. His deer ears, hooves, and antlers were pretty iconic, but you didn’t know any demon like that. He wasn’t a Hellborn, his profile didn’t fit any of the creatures Hell bred. So a Human Sinner then?

The demon stood before you, a red suit complete with red-tipped black boots, and black slacks. His jacket was long, ending at his knees. The hair atop his head was cut cleanly, red and tipped in black, and tousled ever so perfectly.  

Yeah, you had no idea who this guy was. Which did not sit well with you. 

Nifty materializes on his shoulder. When had she slipped out here? “Ooh, he’s a bad boy,” the tiny demon sings. 

Okay then…

The demon lifts her from his person and drops her gently onto the cement. “Ha, well if all that's true, you'd think I'd have heard of you!” 

His voice isn’t just static, it’s like a radio? 

The snake drops his smile. “I attacked you literally last week.”

The red demon cocks his head.

“We've done battle, like... 20 times.”

The demon brings both hands to his staff. No, that’s not right, microphone? “Well, you must have been really bad at this.” 

You snort, but do your best to stifle the giggle into your palm. 

The demon stiffens. You swear you see his shadow elongate in your direction. A trick of the light? An hallucination? You look to Angel for direction but he’s too busy watching the interaction, clearly entertained. 

“Silence! Now cower! For when I've ssslain you, the almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me as their equal.” 

Nifty reappears on the demon’s shoulder, garnering his attention. “Ooh! Wait, who are the Vees?” 

“Oh, nobody important,” the red demon sings. 

Nobody important, eh? For someone to so easily dismiss the Vees like that they’d have to either be stupid or think themselves more powerful - in both cases, they’re stupid. I agree, independently, the Vees are more annoying than anything. One by one they weren’t a threat, but all three together… 

Testing a theory, you let that tendril of power sneak from your core, and just as you had Sir Pentious, you let it slither to the base of the demon’s shoes. Delicately prodding…

SMACK! 

A slap hits your power so hard it sends your head spinning. You fall backwards into Angel who wraps his arms under your shoulders to steady you. 

“You okay, toots?” Angel whispers in your ear, your vision spinning. 

Holy shit. 

It was either the sheer force of the blow or the dizziness in its wake, but you swore you saw faces laughing at you in the shadows. 

“Uh,” you shake your head, willing the sting to subside. 

Jesus, what was that? You’ve never had a reaction like that before… 

“I think so?” You find your feet. “Just all the excitement… Caught me off guard.” You give him a fake laugh. He shrugs it off. 

What the fuck…?

The next thing you know, Charlie’s grip is on your arm. “I promise it’s not always like this!” 

From the corner of your eye, you see Vaggie shake her head. “Yes it is..” she grumbles before swearing under her breath in… Spanish? 

Patting Charlie’s arm, you assure her that it doesn’t bother you. That Cannibal Town - and anywhere else in Pentagram City for that matter - were far worse than this place. Which was true. The only place you could get any peace and quiet was the Wrath Ring - way out in the country. Not that you’d been to the Wrath Ring… Technically… 

The attention is finally turned away from you when an array of tendrils shoots from the red demon’s form. They descend upon the blimp, shredding it to pieces. The eggs spark into a panic as their helmsman desperately shouts commands. 

Maniac laughs bubble in the demon’s chest as he slowly gets to work. It takes a moment before you realize it, but he isn’t taking his time because he has to, he’s doing it to toy with the snake demon. He enjoys the destruction. 

You watch as the tension in the demon’s shoulder slowly diminishes with each attack. The pure enjoyment brings a small smile to your lips. 

So this guy enjoys chaos just as much as you do, huh? 

“Um… Alastor!” 

Ah, so this is the famous Mr. Alastor? 

The Princess slowly approaches the demon, but it isn’t fear you smell wafting off her person, it’s… anxiety? “I think he’s had enough.”

Vaggie is on Charlie’s heels in an instant, her hands flying to her back to summon her spear just in case. 

So little Ms. Morningstar wasn’t afraid of him, but Vaggie sure as Hell doesn’t trust him. Interesting. 

“Nah. He’s got a few more hits in him.” Angel crosses his arms, clearly entertained by the onslaught. Despite the chaotic scene before us, his eyes occasionally flit to the red demon - keeping him within eyesight. 

Hmm, Angel didn’t trust him either. 

You take a step forward but Angel pulls you back, shaking his head. 

The snake demon falls from the zeppelin, landing face first with a smack on the pavement. You couldn’t help but grimace. That had to hurt. 

Alastor twirls his staff - microphone? - as an egg falls and breaks into pieces at Charlie’s feet.

 “Thanks for another forgettable experience!” He sings.

Okay, that you do laugh at. This guy was pretty witty, you had to give it to him. 

The four Hotel Natives shoot you a look of disbelief as you giggle into your hand. Looking between you and the red demon, fear slowly etching across their brows.

Alastor’s shoulders stiffen as he turns, finding the source of giggles rumbling through your chest. His smile is pulled taut across his cheek, but the look he gives you… it wasn’t confusion necessarily swimming behind his eyes, more so like he didn’t know what to think. 

The giggles die down as your cheeks heat under his gaze. 

Was he not used to people finding him funny? 

“Thank you… For letting your guard down!” The snake’s tail whips forward and rips the corner of Alastor’s suit from his person. A small chunk of fabric gives way. “Aha! Yah!” The snake celebrates before noticing the purely demonic smile overcoming the red demon’s face. “Oh, shit…” 

The red demon’s antlers grow as an aura of green overtakes the atmosphere. From his microphone an explosion of green bursts through, sending the snake demon flying across Pentagram City. 

Hmm… Why didn’t he just kill him? He’s just gonna come back. The mosquitos always do. 

“Well, it looks as though I need a visit to the tailor!” The demon inspects his jacket. Despite his jovial attitude, you could see the irritation in his eyebrows. 

A mask. This demon was wearing a mask. 

Finally, now that the chaos was over, you had a chance to inspect the red demon. He must have felt your eyes on him, for when he finally looked up, his gaze was locked with yours. Your cheeks heated under the pressure of his gaze. His eyes, glowing like red crystal in direct sunlight, made your legs feel heavy and your chest tight. 

Was it getting harder to breathe or was it just you? Are you… Are you intimidated right now? No. You’ve never been intimidated by a demon in your life. Angels maybe, but never a Human Sinner. What was wrong with you? 

“And who might this be?” Your heart fluttered at the purr in his voice. 

Twirling his microphone behind his back, he took a step towards you, standing tall at his full height. He had to be an entire foot taller than you, now cast in his shadow. It felt eerily colder in the shade, but there was something else there too. An extra presence you couldn’t quite put your finger on. 

The demon was dressed to the nines. His red suit perfectly tailored to his form. It splayed out around his hips, accentuating a waist line supporting a broad chest. His hair was cropped short around his angular face, his eyes half-lidded as they bore into you. The red of his irises practically glowing. He was a classy demon, clearly not of this century. He regarded you with a sense of curiosity - an aura of green still lingered, however. It was meant to intimidate you, not necessarily threaten you. 

Okay, this guy thinks he’s tough shit, huh? 

Before Charlie had a chance to intervene, you thrust your arm forward, meeting his eyes, not backing down to his overwhelming sense of self importance. 

“Thestral, pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Alastor.” You offer him a soft smile. 

You took the shift of stiffness in his shoulders to mean that you had made the wrong move. This was a demon who carried himself quite highly - probably used to lesser demons cowering in his presence, not laughing at his jokes or meeting his eyeline let alone offering their hand first. At that, he didn’t know what to make of you, which made you dangerous. Which made you a target of interest. 

Shit. 

Day one and you’re already fucking up the whole “lay low” part of the plan.  

“Oh, darling, you flatter me,” he takes your hand. “Just Alastor will do.” 

A shiver rolls down your spine as the tips of his claws scrape across your skin, so sharp they could cut flesh. They probably have, but you weren’t worried. He couldn’t hurt you anyway. Not really.

“Well, ‘Just Alastor,’ thank you for the entertainment.” You cross both arms behind your back mimicking his stance. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Angel’s jaw drop. 

“Of course! I live to please! I’m not the Hotel Manager for nothing!” There it is again, a small shift in his body language. He didn’t know what to make of your lack of fear. 

The static is interrupted by a laugh track, sounding as if from a live studio audience - from a radio.

“So does that mean you’re going to do you’re job?” Vaggie takes a step forward, motioning to the half destroyed wall of the Hotel. 

“Of course! Can’t let my new project fall into disrepair already! What would the papers say?” With a snap of his fingers, black ink demons appear with construction tools. 

Five. Five faceless demons. Which means he owns at least five souls. But that was not nearly enough power to equate to the destruction you had just witnessed. 

By the time you turn back to him, he’s already strolling down the cobblestone path and off into Pentagram City. You couldn’t help still feeling watched, however, like the sensation of his red eyes still on your form, but nowhere to be found. 

You spun but again, no one was watching you. 

“Word of advice, stay away from him,” Vaggie crosses her arm in Charlie’s, ready to lead her back inside. 

“Yeah, Hairclip,” Angel Dust appears behind you, poking at the silver metal in your hair. “You got a lot of balls on you to stand up to that one.” 

“What does that mean?” You scrunch your nose in confusion. 

“Well…” Charlie takes a step forward, touching the tips of her fingers together with anxiety. “Alastor can be a little…”

Before she has a chance to respond, Vaggie and Angel offer suggestions. 

“Creepy.” 

“Unpredictable.” 

“Insane.” 

“Murderous.” 

“Bloodthirsty.” 

“Aren’t those basically the same thing?” Angel shrugs. 

“He’s a bad boy,” Nifty chirps by your ankle. 

Where did she come from? 

“Temperamental,” Charlie offers with an awkward smile.

Why did that not feel like a compromising adjective? 

“The point is, Alastor is dangerous. It would be best not to poke and prod him too much,” Vaggie runs a hand through her ridiculously long hair, huffing.

Poke and prod… Shit! Shit! Shit! That force I felt slap my power away earlier, was that him? Did he know it was me? No! No! No! This wasn’t good. This was anything but good. 

The blood melted from your face. 

“Hey toots, you don’t look so good. Maybe we should get ya’ back inside?” Angel’s arm comes to rest on your shoulder, leading you towards the doors. “Don’t sweat it too much. He’s harmless as long as you’re not a threat. He won’t lay a finger on ya’, we won’t let him. Right gurls?” 

“Right.” They chime as you made your way through the double doors. 

This job just got a lot more complicated…

SCREECH! 

“What the fuck is that?” Husk yells from behind the bar, his claws over his ears. 

The television by the fireplace hisses, having turned itself on. 

“Welcome home!” The box sang. “I’m going to make you wish that you stayed gone!” 

The screen jumped through a few stations of fuzz before settling on a news broadcast. Vox, the media demon, sat behind a reporter’s desk, going on and on about… the Radio Demon? 

As if in response, the radio in the foyer screams to life, making the five of you jump. 

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air!” You recognized the old timey voice as Alastor’s.

“What the fuck is goin’ on!?”Angel screamed over the noise. 

Vaggie ran over to the television and ripped the cord out of the wall. No good, the television continued to flash images of Vox screaming as if he could hear and respond to Alastor’s radio. 

The Exorcist fisted the cord in frustration before pulling her spear from the Void. Charlie stopped her, however, preventing her from destroying the only piece of real technology in this building besides the coffee maker. 

The Hotel Natives and you were subjected to the torture that was Alastor’s and Vox’s tantrum, until finally, they both shut down. 

“Holy Jesus, what the fuck was all that about?” Angel screamed, his ears ringing from the noise. 

“Fucking Vox and his ego,” Husk grumbled from the bar. The cat poured himself a drink. 

“Ahhhhhh!” A eardrum splitting scream pierced the air, making you all, yet again, jump and cover your ears. Vaggie ran to the radio and shut it off rescuing whatever was left of your hearing from… well, whatever the fuck that was. 

“Was that part of Alastor’s bit?” Angel asked the room. 

No one answered, for no one knew the answer. Seems Alastor is a big mystery around here. 

“Drink anyone?” Husk raised a bottle of whiskey in question. 

Fuck, after that you needed one. Silently cursing yourself for your lack of thoroughness in your research, you joined the bar cat. 

You huffed as you sat on the stool.

“You good?” Husk asked, pulling out a menu.

“Yeah,” you rubbed your temples, willing the forming headache away. “Just a lot of homework to do.” 

____________________________________________

It was late, the sky turning towards darkness as opposed to its usual red light. 

The Greed Ring always smelled like metal to you. Not copper, like blood, but like the cold steel of coins. You weren’t in the Greed Ring, of course. Sinners couldn’t travel out of Pride - technically. Yet the stench clung to them nevertheless. 

You landed at the bottom of the cement path leading to the mansion, outside the gates. 

Normally your meetups were discreet, often conducted in the shadows of terraces, rooftops, or alleyways. Oh so rarely did people invite you inside. 

But not this time. This employer loved appearances so much so that he rented out a mansion on the edge of town just for this: a meeting that would last five, ten minutes tops. The vanity of Greed…

The demons next to you jumped as black smoke began to curl away revealing a hooded figure. 

“I believe I am expected,” a deep voice growled from beneath the fabric. Concealed in shadow, the shark demons opened the gate to let you pass, their guns shaking in their hands. Nearing the door, another set of demons stepped to the side, their eyes filled with fear. 

Ugh, how you so enjoyed the scent of terror as it wafted in waves from their forms. Pathetic, honestly. 

You found Crimson sitting before his fire, a glass of whiskey in hand, his hat set on the table next to him. The imp rubbed the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, clearly it had been a long day. The servant standing next to him, whiskey bottle and towel in hand, leans down to alert him of your presence. 

“Huh? What?” The crime lord jumps to his feet. “Already!?” He lets out a joyous laugh, before finding his hat and setting it between his horns.

Out of the corner of your eye, the waiter slinks from the room. The liquid in the whiskey bottle jostling as he shakes in fear. 

“Chaz is swimming with the fishes already, aye!?” Both hands grabbing the lapels of his suit jacket, he stands before you, offering you a seat at the end of the table. Sliding into the head chair, he offers you a drink, which you refuse of course. 

He takes a long sip of his whiskey, letting the burn sink in before continuing. “Did he suffer?” 

You frowned.  No questions. He knew this. That was part of the deal. It was always part of the deal. 

“Ah, come on, can’t fault a guy for trying?” He laughs, but you aren’t amused. 

As if on cue, a shark demon enters the room, dropping a suitcase onto the table before skittering out of the room. Crim opens the case and turns it towards you to reveal fat stacks of cash lining the case’s bottom. 

“It’s all there, I assure you.” He lights a cigar and leans back in his chair. “Pentagram City currency, not the Native stuff.”

You ignore the money. You knew it was all there. You knew none of the bills were traceable. Crim was a pro when it came to moving money around. You didn’t have to worry about covering your tracks from this job like the last ones. Honestly, you didn’t deal in money that often. Your trade was in souls, but Crimson was a Hellborn, and head of a mafia gang at that. You’ve never done business with a Hell Native, so you were hoping your reputation was enough of a threat to keep him quiet. 

But, the money wasn’t why you took this case. 

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing he could see their yellow glow - the only part of your face anyone ever saw - before slipping a black gloved hand from your cloak. His eyes find your fingers, uncurled before him expectantly, as the scent hits your nose. 

Fear. 

You knew this diphsit wasn’t stupid enough not to be afraid of you. Was it the sight of your claws? Or the red still staining the leather? 

“Right. Right.” He dug into the hidden pocket of his jacket, producing an obsidian calling card. The flames from the fire flicker across its metal surface as he holds it out to you. 

Finally, you had won this card back. It had taken forever to track it down after the last person you entrusted it with lost it in a game of cards. Of all the things to wager! You’d have killed the demon, but senseless death wasn’t part of your repertoire. 

The card disappeared from the Pride Ring soon after, passing amongst the hands of Hell as it made its way downwards. It eventually became useless, a piece of metallic junk which eventually landed in Crimson’s hand. He figured out what it was, of course he would. He had eyes and ears everywhere - even in the Sinner’s Ring. So when he appeared in Pride a week ago and summoned you in the dead of night you knew you had to do whatever you could to get the calling card back. 

Even if it meant taking down a low level mark and solving some petty personal drama. The calling card now safely tucked away in the leather of your shirt, you stood and made your way to the door. 

“Ain’t you gonna take the money?” Crim motioned to the suitcase still sitting open on the table.

With a flick of your wrist the case closed, locked itself, and slipped into the Void. 

As you exited the room you could hear the imp demon call out after you, “Pleasure doing business with yous!”

Crim was known to be a man of his word, or he’d soon find himself a dead man…

Link to Chapter Two!

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

[hotmentransformed]

Undercover Agent

Edgar had always been the quiet type, the kind of boy who preferred the company of books to people. His fascination with the FBI began in childhood, fueled by late-night spy movies and crime novels. Growing up in a small town, his dream of becoming an agent seemed distant and improbable, but Edgar's determination never wavered. He studied hard, earned top grades at an Ivy League, and applied for every opportunity that could bring him closer to his goal.

When he received the letter offering him an internship at the FBI office in Washington D.C., Edgar couldn't believe his luck. He packed his bags and left for the U.S. capital, filled with nervous excitement.

His first day was a whirlwind of introductions, security clearances, and overwhelming awe at the sheer scale of the operation. He was assigned to the administrative department, a role that felt both thrilling and mundane.

Edgar's days were filled with menial tasks: sorting files, delivering messages, and making coffee runs. Yet, every interaction with the agents and every glimpse into their work only deepened his resolve. He longed to be part of their world, to contribute to something meaningful. His unassuming nature meant he often went unnoticed, but he observed everything with keen interest.

One afternoon, as he was delivering a stack of files to a high-security area, Edgar noticed a door slightly ajar. The sign on the door read "Restricted Access: Authorized Personnel Only." His heart skipped a beat. What secrets lay behind that door? His curiosity was piqued. He looked around to make sure no one was watching and then slipped inside.

The room was dimly lit and filled with an array of scientific equipment. Beakers bubbled, machines hummed, and shelves were lined with vials of various colors. One vial, in particular, caught Edgar's eye. It was a luminous blue, glowing faintly in the low light. The label read "Project Chimera: Undercover Agent Enhancement."

Edgar’s curiosity overwhelmed him. He picked up the vial and turned it over in his hands, wondering what kind of enhancement it promised. He imagined himself as a capable, confident agent, ready to take on the world. The thought was intoxicating. Before he could talk himself out of it, Edgar uncorked the vial and drank it down.

The cool liquid had a faint taste of mint, and he swallowed it down in one gulp. At first, nothing happened, and he began to feel foolish for having taken such a reckless risk. Surely he would be fired after they found the empty vial. But then, a warmth spread through his chest, radiating outward like ripples in a pond.

Suddenly, he doubled over, clutching his stomach as a wave of energy surged through his body. It felt as though every cell in his body was being recharged, filling him with a power he had never known. His muscles began to tingle, then burn, as they expanded and hardened. He watched in awe as his biceps bulged, the fabric of his polo straining to contain his growing arms. His chest broadened as dark hair swirled around, pushing its way from the bursting buttons. Each breath he took caused his pectoral muscles to swell and push against the confines of his shirt, threatening to rip it completely from his torso.

His legs thickened with powerful new muscles. He felt his posture straighten, his spine elongating as his back muscles pulled him upright. The once baggy clothes he wore were now tight and restrictive, seams straining under the pressure of his rapidly expanding physique. He could feel his strength increasing with every passing second, the awkwardness of his former self melting away to reveal a body that looked like it belonged to a professional athlete or a comic book superhero.

His vision sharpened, and he instinctively reached up to remove his glasses. He no longer needed them; his eyesight was now perfect, every detail in the room coming into crystal-clear focus. Edgar stumbled to a mirror on the wall, hardly daring to believe what he might see. The reflection staring back at him was almost unrecognizable. The once scrawny intern had been replaced by a tall, muscular young man with chiseled features. His face had changed too—his jawline was stronger, more defined, and his eyes, now a piercing blue, seemed to sparkle with confidence.

Edgar flexed his new muscles, feeling a rush of exhilaration. His biceps, triceps, and deltoids rippled under his skin, each movement revealing the power contained within his new body. He ran his hands over his chest and abs, marveling at the firm, sculpted muscles that had replaced his once soft and unimpressive frame. He felt invincible, every ounce of self-doubt and insecurity evaporating in the face of his newfound strength and confidence.

As he continued to examine himself, the door to the laboratory swung open, and a female service agent walked in. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widening in shock. There was a strange man who had broken into the FBI office. Edgar turned to face her, his new features displaying a calm assurance he had never possessed before.

"It's me, Edgar," he said, his voice deeper and more resonant than he remembered. "I... I drank the serum."

The agent's shock slowly turned to suspicion as she studied him. "You know this is a serious breach of protocol, right?" she said, her tone stern but not unkind.

"Yes, ma'am. But maybe it happened for a reason. Maybe I can help," Edgar replied, feeling a newfound boldness and blinding arrogance.

She looked him up and down, then sighed. "We do have a situation. There's a drug ring operating out of the Alpha Epsilon Pi frat at Georgetown, and we need someone to go undercover. They'd never suspect a new guy like you."

Edgar felt a thrill of excitement. He had the chance to prove himself, to show that he was more than just an intern. Now he was an undercover agent.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

Scientists have uncovered genetic variants that help to explain why some children with mild COVID-19 go on to develop a severe inflammatory condition weeks after their infection.

Throughout the COVID-19 pandemic, severe SARS-CoV-2 infections in children and infants were rare. But an estimated 1 in 10,000 children went on to develop multisystem inflammatory syndrome in children (MIS-C), presenting with a range of symptoms including rash, swelling and nausea and vomiting.

Now, an international team of researchers led by Imperial College London has identified a gene that may explain why some children were at greater risk of developing this rare condition. The study is published in the Journal of Experimental Medicine.

In an analysis including more than 150 cases of MIS-C from Europe and the United States, they found that rare variations of a gene that helps regulate the lining of the gut made children four-times more likely to develop systemic inflammation and an array of symptoms.

According to the researchers, understanding the genetic basis of MIS-C provides new insights into how the condition develops, who is at risk, and how patients and those with related conditions might be better treated.

Senior author Dr. Vanessa Sancho-Shimizu, from the Department of Infectious Disease at Imperial College London and The Francis Crick Institute, said, "MIS-C was a very worrying condition for children and their families as well as the clinical teams treating them. Thankfully, the majority of patients recovered, but the underlying mechanisms that drive this condition have been difficult to pin down.

"Working with colleagues around the world, we've been able to pinpoint rare genetic variants that we think are likely driving the systemic inflammation we've seen, making children more susceptible to MIS-C. We hope these findings will not only enable us to better understand the condition but to improve how we care for children with these types of conditions."

Genetic analysis During the COVID-19 pandemic, evidence suggested children were generally at very low risk of severe disease. But reports emerged of a new condition that affected a small proportion of children several weeks after their infection with SARS-CoV-2.

These children generally had mild or no symptoms at the time of their initial infection. But within six weeks they went on to develop a range of symptoms, including abdominal pains and vomiting, fever, rash and more. Clinicians initially reported the symptoms as resembling Kawasaki disease, but it was found to be a new condition call MIS-C .

In the latest analysis, 154 patients aged 0–19 with MIS-C were recruited in Europe and through a research center in the United States, with blood samples used to sequence patients' genomes. Researchers then developed a technique to search for genetic variants that might be associated with the condition.

Dr. Evangelos Bellos, first author of the paper and a Research Fellow in Imperial's Department of Infectious Disease, said, "Our new computational technique, which we call burdenMC, gives us the power to identify links between genes and diseases that were previously elusive. It is particularly useful for shedding light on small, diverse groups of patients with rare conditions such as MIS-C."

Using this approach, the researchers found that small changes in one gene, called BTNL8, were a common factor in children with the condition. Typically, this gene helps to regulate the immune cells in the gut lining, but in patients with MIS-C, rare variants of BTNL8 are believed to have made the gut more sensitive to the SARS-CoV-2 virus and increased inflammation throughout the body, leading to an array of symptoms.

The team worked with the Immunosurveillance Laboratory at the Crick, led by Professor Adrian Hayday, that first identified a function for BTNL8 in the human gut as a regulator of localized T-cells that seemed to contribute to maintaining gut barrier integrity.

Professor Adrian Hayday, Principal Group Leader at the Crick and Professor of Immunobiology at King's College London, said, "The discoveries implicating BTNL8 were wholly unexpected, and potentially offer entirely new insights into mechanisms that ordinarily prevent virus infections from leading to life-threatening disease."

Compared with matched healthy controls, patients with rare BTNL8 variants had a four-fold increase in the risk of developing MIS-C symptoms. The analysis also found that children with European and Hispanic ancestry were more likely to have the variants, and so were at greater risk of the condition.

The researchers say they are now working on understanding the exact mechanisms by which these rare variants promote MIS-C. They are also exploring if the gut also plays an important role in the development of other similar childhood inflammatory conditions like Kawasaki disease.

More information: Evangelos Bellos et al, Heterozygous BTNL8 variants in individuals with multisystem inflammatory syndrome in children (MIS-C), Journal of Experimental Medicine (2024). DOI: 10.1084/jem.20240699 rupress.org/jem/article/221/12/e920240699/277108/Heterozygous-BTNL8-variants-in-individuals-with

[supurman]

+ TOPIC : //a study and guide for the measure of strength of superman.

NOTES : there is dispute in comics of superman's true strength. with different writers and comics his strength can be greatly downplayed. this meta is to rectify that. you are free to disagree if your character is stronger, but that is not the canon found on supurman.com unless specifically outlined. it is important to note that within EVERY character in dc each writer interprets and decides how strong/capable they are. in one comic superman is extremely strong, in others moderately, and so on. as writers we all have the right to interpret what's plausible for our characters the same way dc writers do. on this blogs iteration of clark, i write his power in the truest form.

QUICK SUMMARY : Primarily focused on his feats ofRAW PHYSICAL STRENGTH.but a brief list of his other powers will be present.

PRE-TEXT: this meta is by no way 'scientific' nor is it meant to adhere to logic. if you adhere to science or logic with SUPERMAN he simply cannot be enjoyed properly and that is how it has always been. he is a character who can blow ice without explanation, show lasers from his eyes, drinks uv rays with human cells, can stop moving trains without making them crumble due to physics, can fly without reason. his powers don't adhere to anything real. the moment you try to make sense of him he becomes boring. with that being said, i encourage you to look upon his feats of strength with wonder and no need of logic. superman is awesome simply because he is ! he can do things because he is superman. he is meant to be a character that can rise above anything with his amazing powers because of who he is.

superman is hailed as one of the strongest characters across all media. this is because of how time and time again in comics he continues to have the most impressive physical feats across dc comic media. the strength found within his body is immeasurable as to put wonder into his awesome capabilities. while he possesses a wide array of powers under his belt the brunt of all his abilities come down his durability, speed, and the crown of it all his strength. he by far is the strongest character within DC physically and none can hold a candle to him when written in his truest form. he can be delayed and held toe to toe with, but he is the strongest. his strength not only at baseline is already incredible, it has the power to multiply in on itself without causing damage to his body ( only when done naturally, and properly ). with great excursions of strength opens the doorway to him unlocking new dormant abilities once unknown to himself.

superman describes the world around him as a world of cardboard which forces him to be careful and at all times hold himself back. if he isn't careful it could mean tragedy faster then one could blink. there is a REASON superman is held as the 'strongest' to us. ( example: there is a reason he is the unfortunate main target in power scaling conversations ). there is a reason he has SUCH POTENT weakness which can render him nearly dying instantly. it is a consequence for how incredibly overpowered he is.

below are some examples of his strength in no actual order to draw belief from.

* #1 : description: superman holds an entire blackhole within his singular fist. he was able to hold the blackhole in his fist indefinitely. the only way he would falter is if his mind was altered with- however even then he never released the black hole.

*#2 : description: superman holds the weight of the world at 5.972 sextilllion metric tons for FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT and still brazenly ask for MORE weight to be added. in addition to that, he shows he can continue to hold this stupendous weight indefinitely.

* #3 : description: superman being taken down by the justice league showing that the only way he can be held back is by THE ENTIRE FULL PLANNED AND POWER OF THE LEAGUE. additionally, it is admitted that if clark KNEW that the justice league were coming for him he would have defeated them all or at least put on a GREAT fight. as quoted by martin manhunter " without the element of surprise we would not have a chance. " notable things here that it also takes MANY extremely physically strong heroes to hold him back including wonder woman, kon-el, and supergirl

SOME NOTES ON THIS: this comic panel is not an example of his strength particularly but HOW SERIOUS of a threat he is taken. the superman in this panel isn't actually superman at all, but a fake. none the less the JLA had no reason to believe this wasn't the superman gone rogue and had to carefully plot their full power to thwart him.

* #4 : superman defeats the imperiex probe. an enemy that was able to beat the combined attack of green lantern, wonder woman, flash, plastic man, martian manhunter, aquaman and more.

while these 4 are not every show of power superman has showed us through his amazing adventures they sure are notable. he continues to show us how capable he is and how absolutely he is the physically strongest. now many of you may think "wow if superman is so strong, why does he still get beat up or not win in one punch. " well one part of me will tell you it does have to do with story writing and everything being writers based. would it be fun to watch superman always win in one punch? no. part of his character is the struggle to continue to rise above. additionally to this though it also has to do with how he doesnt kill. he lived his whole life holding back in contrast to someone like his cousin kara who never holds back. his style of living translates into how he fights. he holds back and doesnt want to kill. with his virtue of empathy he can often times summon his defeat in battles .... always is superman holding himself back.

+ ( SUB ) TOPIC : // the other powers

part of what makes superman so formidable is not because he is so strong, but because there is so much to look out for that he can pull out his cards of tricks. below is a brief list of his powers but keep in mind some of his powers have sub-abilities linked to them that are more minor i won't name.

if clark is in a bind any one of these can be used to the fullest extent. with so much powers that range from heat, to cold, to identifying weak spots he makes quite the adversary ...

+ CONCLUSION : //

if there is anything to take away from this is that superman is powerful, extremely powerful. he loses, he gets back up. he fights, he allows more of himself to release power he withholds. while i spent all this time saying he is the most undeniable powerful in DC ( physically ! ) i write him similarly to how you will find him in the comics,  which is dynamically. i am FINE with him being defeated, bested, out smarted. clark makes mistakes, he can be brought to the edge of in a fight BUT ONLY within reason.

superman is strong. he could take on a well rounded set of the justice league and prevail. he just is this strong and that is how he was intended to the audience when created. but despite everything i said about his strength, his true strength is found in his kindness.

i would still like to reiterate the point that every comic depiction of clark in a fight is different from writer to writer. in some text he can hold the weight of a book that is infinite in weight. in others he gets punched by some random villain that sends him into a building. i simply write him how he intended which is to be so powerful without reason simply because he is a superman! it is often said superman cannot be enjoyed by adults because adults require reason to everything he can do and thus end up hating him for being a gary sue, while kids look at superman saving the day and go "whoa, he did it because hes superman!" that wonder is what I encapsulate on this blog with his abilities. clark isnt just an alien, but in many context he  is entire star if it were a man. that is some power to deal with.

" this looks like a job for superman ! " - clark kent, superman .

[quotablefanfiction]

“Wei Wuxian!” Meng Yao shouted, then kicked the Jin sect disciple off him. “What kind of plan is this?” “I have never planned anything in my life,” Wei Wuxian said as he stepped into the cell.

Wei Wuxian does not understand where he got the reputation of a mastermind (chp. 10)

if you can’t beat them, recruit them by moeblobmegane (AO3) Mo Dao Zu Shi – Mature – Lan Zhan/Wei Ying #Alternate Universe #Time Travel Fix-It #Conspiracy #Spies & Secret Agents #Team as Family #Found Family #Burial Mounds #Temporary Character Death #Canon-Typical Violence #Pining #Morally Ambiguous Character #Rumors #Politics #Developing Friendships #Demonic Cultivation #Good Uncle Lan Qiren #Background Relationships

Rather than mourning a future that had not happened yet, he would rather work with all his might to prevent it from happening. [...] His aim was to fortify his home and his family so that they would never again be left vulnerable to greedy cultivators aiming for his genius. For that, he needed help. He may be a genius, but he was not the cunning manipulative man they thought him to be. No, that was not him. He knew who was, though.

(Or: Wei Wuxian uses a powerful array to go back in time and builds a secret squad to prevent the misfortunes of the future.)

Note: This is a restricted story and requires an AO3 account in order to read

[burningembers91]

Inside the Mind of a Killer - Kwon Seok-Joo x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Resigned to a life behind bars for avenging his daughter's murder, Kwon Seok-Joo reigns supreme among his fellow inmates. When a beautiful new psychologist arrives, offering talking therapies to prisoners, Seok-Joo can't resist toying with you. Who will come out on top in a battle of wits? And could his little game turn into something more?

Kwon Seok-Joo had resigned himself long ago to the fact that he would spend the rest of his life in prison. He didn’t mind being incarcerated, the regimented monotony a welcome break from the stresses of modern life. He didn’t regret what he’d done; hadn’t lost a second of sleep over the crime that had landed him a life sentence. In his eyes, it was justified retribution. His young daughter had been cruelly snatched away by a man who had no regard for her life, so why should Seok-Joo have had any regard for his? He was more than happy to pay the price for his crime; in his eyes, he’d only done what was right.

Seok-Joo was a model inmate. He never caused trouble, in fact, he regularly dispelled fights between other prisoners. He ran classes, teaching fellow inmates an array of subjects and helping them work towards qualifications. He was friendly with the guards, offering them legal advice in exchange for a few extra privileges. For all intents and purposes, life on the inside was good.

Being friendly with the guards meant Seok-Joo was always kept abreast of goings on around the prison. He knew everything there was to know about everyone and everything inside the concrete walls. Being so knowledgeable gave him the upper hand, made him stand out on top; in prison, Seok-Joo was King. He was revered by the guards, beloved by his fellow inmates and respect meant more the wealth or power on the inside. Every time a detective or shrink stepped through the door, Seok-Joo knew. He had no time for law enforcement, had no respect for the people who couldn’t catch the man who had killed his daughter. To him, police were the scum of the earth, and psychologists were no better. He’d been ordered to see one when he was first arrested, forced to spill his inner most secrets to a stranger with a notepad and a condescending look plastered to their face. He’d been made out to be crazy, a man who had lost control of his senses, but Seok-Joo had never been saner when he’d plunged the knife into his daughter’s killer.

He'd heard about the therapist who had been assigned to the prison, offering their services to anyone who needed to talk. Seok-Joo had no intention of seeing the latest in a line of failed shrinks, all the previous ones scared off by the monstrous beings who stalked the halls. He was content to sit in his cell, reading, studying and helping his fellow inmates. But then he heard the chatter, heard the glowing reviews about the woman who could placate even the toughest prisoners. Week after week, inmates lined up to see the therapist who could soothe their troubled souls. Seok-Joo heard so many things about you, that finally he decided he had to see for himself just how good this new shrink was.

You’d heard of Kwon Seok-Joo, had followed his court case with bated breath. There had been many a research paper published on the man who took the law into his own hands, and he had fascinated you. You were surprised to see him sat in front of you, his disdain for therapists widely known. His tall, broad frame took up space in the small room, a small smile on his handsome faced as he lounged comfortably on the leather armchair. He was just as cocky as you’d expected, just as self-assured and charismatic as you’d heard. This was a game to Seok-Joo, you realised, simply something to fill his long days and feed his sense of grandeur. Unfortunately for him, you were excellent at your job; your ability to get into the minds of the most heinous killers had catapulted you to fame within the world of psychology. Of course, you fully expected Seok-Joo to know this, knew that he would have done his research before you sat down together.

“What brings you here today?” You asked, matching his relaxed posture and tone. “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he smiled, taking you in. He could certainly see why the other inmates were so enamoured with you; you were beautiful, stunningly so, and had a calming presence that even he couldn’t deny. He’d done his research on you, had uncovered all your secrets. There was nothing about you that Seok-Joo didn’t know, and he was going to enjoy getting under your skin.

You both stared each other down, the two of you so acutely aware of how the other would try to play the game. “And?” you finally asked, putting your pen and pad to the side. “Was I worth leaving your cell for?” Seok-Joo chuckled, a deep, low sound that reverberated off the base of your skull. “I think I’ll need a few more sessions to decide,” he said quietly.

This was a game neither of you wanted to lose, and Seok-Joo couldn’t wait to start playing.

[lexicorp]

Transformers Earthspark: Another Place, Another Prison

Star does indeed get his meeting with Hashtag he scored with his deal with Megatron. Although, as most things, it doesn't exactly go favorably. The chaos energy shit and his damn 10k layered trauma ratatouille is not exactly making things easy for anyone. I REALLY want these two to reconcile at some point, yet alas, this is certainly not that chapter-

Also--Bee was absolutely about to be baited into fighting Star at the end before Tag interrupts lmao

Previous Chapter: Lingering Ghosts

First Chapter: A Need For Read

Next Chapter: An Unwanted Sequel

Chapter 5: Perception

Starscream had rounded the perimeter of the cell approximately 175 times now. It was a respectable number to end on, so he decided to take a seat against the wall. Megatron was certainly taking his time in fulfilling his side of their deal. Perhaps he had decided to simply forgo upholding his word. That would be disappointing. Although admittedly unsurprising.

Starscream's wings perked at the sound of pedsteps through the corridor, but drooped when he recognized that it was his audials playing tricks on him again. 

“Ey what’s the plan commander? I’m dyin’ in ‘ere!” Swindle complained, and the noise made Starscream’s optic twitch red.

“I’m working on it!” He growled. 

“Starscream: Moping.” Soundwave commented just so helpfully as the stoic mech also sat on his aft in the cell across from him.

“I am not!” Starscream’s vocalizer betrayed him with a high pitched squeal, and he cleared his throat. “I do not need to entertain any of you glitches. Just because my processor insists on projecting you, does not make you worthy of my attention. Leave me be and jet yourselves back into space why don’t you.” Starscream waved a servo as if he could send them away with the gesture. 

It only partially worked, as Soundwave’s form found it pertinent to displace itself to a less casual moment in time. When Mandroid had been given free reign to select any one of them as lab rodents to be experimented upon. The blue mech’s servos and peds were tightly bound to leave him splayed out upon the ground for scrambling little human pests to defile his circuits. They hadn’t even severed his sensors for the operation. They’d just popped open panels and prodded around like maggots deconstructing a living corpse. 

Starscream’s frame locked up as his spark felt constricted in his chassis. His vents had stopped. He knew it wasn’t real. Perhaps he shouldn’t have angered the illusion. Now he was stuck rewatching the disgusting scene as samples of the mech’s frame were being sawed off barbarically, the internal wiring being strewn about, and those cursed injections of more than questionable substances. The array of equipment echoed dreadfully in his audials.

Suddenly, the world spazzed again, and one of the G.H.O.S.T agents hovered sinisterly in front of his cell. Staring. Scrutinizing him with an air of hunger on its faceless mask. Like a predacon reveling in the power it held over its prey. Savoring not just its victory over its victims, but sadistically devouring the gruesome process itself. The creature simply found joy in their suffering, and lingered in a promise for what Starscream knew had happened next.

Then, there was Skullcruncher. Starscream heard the croctobot shift in the cell beside him, and his helm was inadvertently drawn to face it. The frame he saw wasn’t right. The lighting wasn’t right. It was dim and hazy, but he vaguely identified Skullcruncher as he shambled towards the barrier separating them. The sturdy beast was painfully caught between his bot and alt modes. Plating bent, warped, and twisted in ways it should not have been able to manage. His faceplate distorted with shadow and melting metal so that his optics and dentas stuck out in an unnerving, unnatural manner. 

The raspy voice box of the creature spoke to him. It sounded like too many different vocalizers at once for him to discern.

“You deserve what has come to you, Starscream. It’s your fault. You didn’t help us. You only helped yourself. How could you?”

Starscream yelped and scrambled back until he hit the opposing corner. His wings vibrated, crimson lightning flickering between them, and he barely registered them scraping against the wall. 

“You did this.” 

The words dug into his audials and he slapped his servos over his receptors like it could save him. “No no, shut up.” Starscream hissed as he glared at his knees, then his vocalizer cracked a chuckle. “You’re not real! It’s not real!” He sang manically. “You can’t trick me. No no no no…”

“You’ll never escape, Starscream. You have no allies that would bother to help you.”

“Hehe-” His vents were cycling far too quickly to aid his addled processor as he muttered, “I’m not listening to you. I don’t have to listen to you. Leave me alone.”

“...Who are you talking to?”

Starscream shrieked and flung his helm backwards in surprise at the suddenly crisp, external sound that questioned him. His optics shot in its direction to see exactly the Terran he so desperately wanted to see. He excitedly sprung to his peds and spread out his servos earnestly.

“HASHTAG!” Starscream greeted perhaps a bit too loudly, then swiftly stepped closer before finding a bit of hesitation and slowing his approach. “I-it’s so good to see you–heh- how-h-how have you been?? After… well, uh–��

“After you stole the Emberstone, nearly killed everyone I care about, and forced Terratronus to start destroying Witwicky?” She finished snarkily with crossed arms and an angry look on her faceplate. 

“Yes… that. But we can put that whole debacle behind us! We each got a couple good jabs at the other– what’s a few bouts of blaster fire between friends, right?” He waved his servos around animatedly and his vocalizer was a bit too high pitched for his liking, but that was a silly concern.

“You’re crazy.” Hashtag stated decidedly with far too much contempt, and continued with bitterness bleeding through her tone, “I can’t believe I ever believed in you! How could you do that!? I see now that you are just– worse than Megatron ever could have been.”

Starscream’s wings flicked stiffly behind him and his widened optics glitched between their red and blue as he took a step back. He was horrified. At what exactly, he couldn’t decide. She hated him– She didn’t understand– She was wrong. His wings shifted up and down erratically to relieve even a fraction of the pent up energy clawing at his spark. His servos shook and his optics darted across different points of his surroundings, occasionally landing on Hashtag before looking away again.

“I- You-!” Starscream had lifted a digit with the intent of confronting the Terran’s accusation, encouraged by that damned chaotic crimson corrupting his vision. But did he really have the right to berate her? A parasite nagged at his impulses that he should crush her voice box for her impertinence. He should tell her just how foolish of a proclamation she had made. Give her a verbal assault equal to the one he’d given Megatron. How dare she turn on him like this.

Yet with his sparing glances at her faceplate, even with the assured determination she held herself with, he saw glimpses of fear in her stance. This deepened the pit in his tank. Was he scaring her somehow? That wasn’t what he wanted. How could he have those thoughts?! Perhaps she did have a right to be angry with him after all…

Starscream in-vented, then tried his best to smile and smooth his vocalizer. “Come now, Hashtag, let’s not be brash.” He chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m sure you don’t mean that! Believe me, it was never my intention to damage you or your terran siblings. All you really had to do was step aside while I– what I mean to say is– i-it wasn’t about you, I just-” Oh that sounded bad didn’t it?

Hashtag scoffed, “Not about me? Woooow, thanks. That totally makes what you did alright. Except it doesn’t. You know, you’re lucky we’ve kept Spitfire and Aftermath from coming in here to give you a piece of their mind! What about what you did to them, huh!? I don’t care if it wasn’t about me, you still hurt and endangered so many people for some stupid power buff!”

Starscream stared at her blankly for some time as her words loaded in his processor. They’ve kept Sprite and A.M. from coming here… that means the sparklings were moving! Of course they saw it fit to come back online as soon as he was out of the picture. He knew it.

Starscream’s grin widened at the revelation, “I KNEW IT!” He said so suddenly that Hashtag flinched in surprise and looked at him with that same strange expression Megatron had worn, paired with a dash of confusion at his proclamation. He straightened himself to regain what composure he could before tilting a servo to enlighten her. “See, I knew those two never required those Embershards to function! I was right! They were just playing a petty, silly little game to get back at me when we were trapped up there in the Titan. Did they just need whatever fuel you Terrans need? Did you somehow collect a higher dose of the chaos energy that I could not? Or did they simply arise after I departed?” He tilted his hip snarkily and crossed his arms. “If that is the case I will have quite the word with Sprite about her rather rude, meager communications she chose to send me instead of contributing.”

Hashtag’s intake hung open stupidly before her faceplate scrunched in bafflement. “...What?”

Starscream thought he had explained himself quite well. He rolled his optics and impatiently urged her to answer his query, “At what point did they decide to come online?”

“Decide?? You killed them! We were only able to bring them back with a crazy idea to toss them into the chaos cloud junk with the spear! Of course anime has never done me wrong and it totally worked– but they weren’t deciding to be dead! What’s wrong with you!?” Hashtag was throwing her servos around in some ill placed frustration as she spouted nonsense.

“They weren’t dead, they were in stasis from their regretable damages.” Starscream tried to clarify. He wasn’t crazy. He knew exactly what was going on.

“Dude you can’t be this delusional. What weird space rock did you eat up there?”

“I’m not delusional.” Starscream snapped with a flash of red in his optics before he reeled himself in again. “If they were permanently offline, then there would have been no possible way Sprite could have pinged my communicator!”

Hashtag blinked and shook her helm as she partially recognized what he’d said. “Sprite…? You mean Spitfire??” She actually looked fondly amused before she forcefully refocused herself, “No– ugh, c’mon man! That makes absolutely no sense. Maybe she was like, haunting you, or something–that would definitely make for some good cinema– but I’m pretty darn sure they were dead-dead for a while there. They looked very dead to me.”

Starscream threw his servos in the air, “Well maybe she was a good actor all along! I’m not crazy!! And I am most definitely not hearing things!!” His wings shuttered as the chaos energy pulled at his circuits. “Believe what you want if you enjoy being wrong–” Lightning shot through his frame and he shook his helm in a hopeless effort to stave the crimson from his optics– “You…You’re just a confused sparkling that doesn’t understand the nuances of the situation– STOP FRAGGING LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT OR I SWEAR I’LL DESTROY THIS PATHETIC BARRIER!” 

That slagger Bumblebee ran up from his post at the sector’s entrance to plant himself between Starscream and Hashtag defensively. “HEY! Cool it Screamer! Don’t make me cut your playdate short!”

The corrupted power of the Emberstone erupted from Starscream’s frame, causing that wretched shaking and haze in his optics. “BUT OUT BUG! This doesn’t concern you!” He growled with a stance rearing for a fight.

“I think it does, actually. Especially with whatever this is.” The bumbling bot whirled a servo in Starscream’s general direction rudely. 

“Oh REALLY?” He laughed darkly, “You honestly think you are of any use here?! You could never hope to stand against me, scout. Now step aside. Or do you wish to come in here and prove what little prowess you might possess?”

The bug scoffed, “I’m not going to fight you right now Starscream.”

“Coward.”

Before Bumblebee could respond, Hashtag frantically yelled: “STOP!!” Once she’d gained their attention she in-vented sharply and placed a servo on the bug’s shoulder plating. “Just- c’mon Bee, this was stupid… let’s just go.”

“WHAT? You- you can’t just leave–” Starscream stressed angrily. How dare she try to walk away from their conversation!

“You can’t tell me what to do!” She snapped at him before stomping away down the corridor. The bug stared at Starscream a moment longer before hopping away to catch up with Hashtag. 

Blue battled for control of his optics and his vents quickened, then he scrambled as close as he could towards them with an extended servo. “WAIT! Wait– please– w-we can- we can still talk about this- I’m sorry I– I didn’t mean it! Please Hashtag, I’m sorry if I scared you, don’t–don’t leave!”

She only spared him one last glance as she tightly hugged her frame, her faceplate full of hurt that he’d foolishly caused. Then the door closed.

“NO! No…no-” Starscream’s servo slowly lowered partway before balling into a fist, “UGH WHY DID I DO THAT?!” He slammed it against the barrier before slumping down to his knees pathetically with a whine. Then voiced Hashtag’s question in a whisper, “What is wrong with me…?”

Nothing about that had gone as it should have. 

Starscream had wanted to have a casual, friendly conversation where they could possibly reconcile. Where maybe he could’ve gotten her to understand, and forgive him. Perhaps even get her to pass a good word to the Autobots! But then he had to go and open his big fat glossia, and say literally all the wrong things. 

When had it devolved so horribly?? He hadn’t thought it was going that bad! Sure, It had often periodically become more confrontational than he had hoped, but he should have been prepared for that. He should have rehearsed his approach better. Why hadn’t he prepared? He’d had the time, hadn’t he?

Yet all he’d managed to do was frag things up more than they already were. Now how was he going to get out of here?! Jump one of the glitches if they decide to bring him energon…? That had too many ways to go awry, but it might be his only chance.

Or… Perhaps, he could get this Primus damned power that infected him to actually be useful…

[seat-safety-switch]

SO-LAR-FUCKING-POWER. Or, as the appearance-obsessed image consultants want us to refer to it now, "photovoltaic energy." Yeah, okay, nerds. A lot of people have been shit-talking solar in the press, because they're afraid that individuals will set up their own power generation facilities in their backyards, roofs, sheds, community centres, what have you, and start pumping out electricity. That will make the big electricity corporations sad, so they've paid all these handsome people to come on the news and yell about it.

Let me put it this way: if there were a magic machine in the sky that shot out a bunch of candy bars every day, like an absolute shitload of Milky Ways, and you were hungry, would you run out into the backyard with a bucket? Or would you feel bad about it because Bob Milky Way, up there in his hateful Cadbury tower, is no longer able to perpetuate his existing business model?

Personally, I've gone big-league on solar, mostly because the utility company disconnected my house after decades of non-payment. Now, I can't afford the new stuff: even the cheap panels that the proud people of China throw onto AliExpress are too costly for my budget. What I've done instead is dig through the landfill (after hours, of course) for several hundred solar desk calculators.

These calculators are electronic devices that we used to use before smartphones in order to compute numbers. And they ran on the sun, because replacing batteries is annoying. After breaking open the calculators, I looped their solar cells together in series, and eventually built a big enough panel to cover my entire roof.

When I say it like that, it sounds easy, and this is the myth of engineering progress: it was actually a lot of stop-and-go stuff, bumps in the road. Rooftop fires. Wiring fires. I fell off the roof a few times. The cops came by at one point and were idling in front of my house, waiting to see if I'd come outside so they could bust me for stealing all those calculators from the dump. In the end, though, I am now able to charge my phone for free, and even run my coffee maker if it's a particularly sunny day. That coffee is the best-tasting coffee I've ever had, because it tastes like billionaire tears.

And I won't stop there, either. Things are going to improve dramatically at the old Switch Family Solar Array as my bougie neighbours throw out their old panels in order to upgrade to the latest and greatest. Pretty soon they'll be paying me to take them – I have it on good authority that the dump charges you like minimum $20 this weekend. If you flip to the last page in my investor deck, you'll notice that I have projected to be able to run my refrigerator by 2025. You better get in on this shit, or we'll bury you with the coal.

[supurman-a]

+ TOPIC : // a study and guide for the measure of strength of superman.

NOTES : there is dispute in comics of superman's true strength. with different writers and comics his strength can be greatly downplayed. this meta is to rectify that. you are free to disagree if your character is stronger, but that is not the canon found on supurman.com unless specifically outlined. it is important to note that within EVERY character in dc each writer interprets and decides how strong/capable they are. in one comic superman is extremely strong, in others moderately, and so on. as writers we all have the right to interpret what's plausible for our characters the same way dc writers do. on this blogs iteration of clark, i write his power in the truest form.

QUICK SUMMARY : Primarily focused on his feats of RAW PHYSICAL STRENGTH. but a brief list of his other powers will be present.

PRE-TEXT: this meta is by no way 'scientific' nor is it meant to adhere to logic. if you adhere to science or logic with SUPERMAN he simply cannot be enjoyed properly and that is how it has always been. he is a character who can blow ice without explanation, show lasers from his eyes, drinks uv rays with human cells, can stop moving trains without making them crumble due to physics, can fly without reason. his powers don't adhere to anything real. the moment you try to make sense of him he becomes boring. with that being said, i encourage you to look upon his feats of strength with wonder and no need of logic. superman is awesome simply because he is ! he can do things because he is superman. he is meant to be a character that can rise above anything with his amazing powers because of who he is.

superman is hailed as one of the strongest characters across all media. this is because of how time and time again in comics he continues to have the most impressive physical feats across dc comic media. the strength found within his body is immeasurable as to put wonder into his awesome capabilities. while he possesses a wide array of powers under his belt the brunt of all his abilities come down his durability, speed, and the crown of it all his strength. he by far is the strongest character within DC physically and none can hold a candle to him when written in his truest form. he can be delayed and held toe to toe with, but he is the strongest. his strength not only at baseline is already incredible, it has the power to multiply in on itself without causing damage to his body ( only when done naturally, and properly ). with great excursions of strength opens the doorway to him unlocking new dormant abilities once unknown to himself.

superman describes the world around him as a world of cardboard which forces him to be careful and at all times hold himself back. if he isn't careful it could mean tragedy faster then one could blink. there is a REASON superman is held as the 'strongest' to us. ( example: he is the unfortunate main target in power scaling conversations ). there is a reason he has SUCH POTENT weakness which can render him nearly dying instantly. it is a consequence for how incredibly overpowered he is.

below are some examples of his strength in no actual order to draw belief from.

* #1 : description: superman holds an entire blackhole within his singular fist. he was able to hold the blackhole in his fist indefinitely. the only way he would falter is if his mind was altered with- however even then he never released the black hole.

* #2 : description: superman holds the weight of the world at 5.972 sextilllion metric tons for FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT and still brazenly ask for MORE weight to be added. in addition to that, he shows he can continue to hold this stupendous weight indefinitely.

* #3 : description: superman being taken down by the justice league showing that the only way he can be held back is by THE ENTIRE FULL PLANNED AND POWER OF THE LEAGUE. additionally, it is admitted that if clark KNEW that the justice league were coming for him he would have defeated them all or at least put on a GREAT fight. as quoted by martin manhunter " without the element of surprise we would not have a chance. " notable things here that it also takes MANY extremely physically strong heroes to hold him back including wonder woman, kon-el, and supergirl

SOME NOTES ON THIS: this comic panel is not an example of his strength particularly but HOW SERIOUS of a threat he is taken. the superman in this panel isn't actually superman at all, but a fake. none the less the JLA had no reason to believe this wasn't the superman gone rogue and had to carefully plot their full power to thwart him.

* #4 : superman defeats the imperiex probe. an enemy that was able to beat the combined attack of green lantern, wonder woman, flash, plastic man, martian manhunter, aquaman and more.

while these 4 are not every show of power superman has showed us through his amazing adventures they sure are notable. he continues to show us how capable he is and how absolutely he is the physically strongest. now many of you may think "wow if superman is so strong, why does he still get beat up or not win in one punch. " well one part of me will tell you it does have to do with story writing and everything being writers based. would it be fun to watch superman always win in one punch? no. part of his character is the struggle to continue to rise above. additionally to this though it also has to do with how he doesnt kill. he lived his whole life holding back in contrast to someone like his cousin kara who never holds back. his style of living translates into how he fights. he holds back and doesnt want to kill. with his virtue of empathy he can often times summon his defeat in battles .... always is superman holding himself back.

+ ( SUB ) TOPIC : // the other powers

part of what makes superman so formidable is not because he is so strong, but because there is so much to look out for that he can pull out his cards of tricks. below is a brief list of his powers but keep in mind some of his powers have sub-abilities linked to them that are more minor i won't name.

if clark is in a bind any one of these can be used to the fullest extent. with so much powers that range from heat, to cold, to identifying weak spots he makes quite the adversary ...

+ CONCLUSION : //

if there is anything to take away from this is that superman is powerful, extremely powerful. he loses, he gets back up. he fights, he allows more of himself to release power he withholds. while i spent all this time saying he is the most undeniable powerful in DC ( physically ! ) i write him similarly to how you will find him in the comics,  which is dynamically. i am FINE with him being defeated, bested, out smarted. clark makes mistakes, he can be brought to the edge of in a fight BUT ONLY within reason.

superman is strong. he could take on a well rounded set of the justice league and prevail. he just is this strong and that is how he was intended to the audience when created. but despite everything i said about his strength, his true strength is found in his kindness.

i would still like to reiterate the point that every comic depiction of clark in a fight is different from writer to writer. in some text he can hold the weight of a book that is infinite in weight. in others he gets punched by some random villain that sends him into a building. i simply write him how he intended which is to be so powerful without reason simply because he is a superman! it is often said superman cannot be enjoyed by adults because adults require reason to everything he can do and thus end up hating him for being a gary sue, while kids look at superman saving the day and go "whoa, he did it because hes superman!" that wonder is what I encapsulate on this blog with his abilities. clark isnt just an alien, but in many context he  is entire star if it were a man. that is some power to deal with.

" this looks like a job for superman ! " - clark kent, superman .

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Organic compound boosts solar cell stretchability without sacrificing power

A solar cell developed by RIKEN physicists can be stretched without greatly affecting its ability to convert light into electricity. It is thus promising for powering the next generation of wearable electronics. Today's smart watches can monitor an impressive array of health metrics, while more-specialist wearable devices are being developed for specific medical applications. But such devices need to be recharged periodically. To eliminate this need, researchers are seeking to develop flexible, wearable solar cells. However, it is vital to ensure that the performance of these solar cells doesn't drop off when they are stretched by body movements during everyday life. "We're focusing on making very thin, flexible devices. But such devices don't have intrinsic stretchability," explains Kenjiro Fukuda of the RIKEN Center for Emergent Matter Science. "Rather, they're similar to plastic wrap used to wrap food—you can maybe stretch them by 1% or 2%, but 10% is impossible since they tear easily."

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