#secure tech security nyc

[valeisaslut]

any scandals on both sides before they met? (caught with drugs, at a strip club, fucking a higher up, etc?)

oh nonnie. you just know these two have scandalous backstories. before they met? absolute chaos on both ends. ellie was worse tho, but here are the biggest:

COLLIDE ROCKSTAR!ELLIE SCANDALS:

⭑.ᐟ the strip club birthday video leak

ellie’s 21th birthday ended with her in a NYC strip club, only in a sports bra, a dancer grinding on her while she poured some VERY expensive champagne down her chest. dina was yelling in the background. it got leaked on reddit. she refused to apologize.

“i support small businesses.”

⭑.ᐟ caught with drugs… on camera

grainy paparazzi photo of ellie backstage holding what was very clearly a baggie of coke.

she tweeted “it’s powdered sugar. chill.”

it was not powdered sugar.

her label did PR damage control for weeks.

⭑.ᐟ fucked a Rolling Stone writer

like, literally. she slept with a much older female journalist who’d been covering the fireflies’ tour. when the profile came out and was weirdly flattering, fans immediately knew.

you can’t write “her voice sounds like sex and cigarettes” and pretend you’re objective.

⭑.ᐟ got into a fistfight with a sound tech at a festival

apparently he said something misogynistic about her band and she decked him. the festival banned her for a year. she wore the ban like a badge of honor.

⭑.ᐟ hooked up with a married tour manager in berlin

it was a mess. security footage leaked of them kissing in the VIP booth and reddit sleuths figured out the woman was married. four (4) kids. ellie said nothing. the tour manager resigned.

COLLIDE POPSTAR!READER SCANDALS:

⭑.ᐟ allegedly had a fling with a very famous female creative director

she was nearly 20 years older. fans still speculate that your breakout song was about her. when asked in interviews, you just smirk and say “she was inspiring.”

⭑.ᐟ accidentally flashed the crowd during a wardrobe malfunction at a NYE special

you trended for 3 days and tweeted “wow. a woman with nipples. someone call the police. btw. i have great tits”. your streams tripled.

⭑.ᐟ the “i fucked her for the verse” situation

an up-and-coming rapper claimed you slept with her to get a feature. you never responded. the song dropped. it went platinum.

fans still debate if it was true.

you don’t care.

⭑.ᐟ kissed another popstar girl on stage “as a bit” and ignited rumors for months

it was not just a bit. there was tongue. she later told Vogue, “i was the one who caught feelings. she didn’t.”

ouch.

⭑.ᐟ drunkenly called a major pop award show “soulless” on a hot mic

you didn’t win anything that night. but your fans made t-shirts out of the quote.

(ellie would later say that’s the moment she became obsessed with you.)

and then they met.

and all hell broke loose.

together? a PR team’s worst nightmare. and a fan’s dream.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Ad-tech targeting is an existential threat

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me TORONTO on SUNDAY (Feb 23) at Another Story Books, and in NYC on WEDNESDAY (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN. More tour dates here.

The commercial surveillance industry is almost totally unregulated. Data brokers, ad-tech, and everyone in between – they harvest, store, analyze, sell and rent every intimate, sensitive, potentially compromising fact about your life.

Late last year, I testified at a Consumer Finance Protection Bureau hearing about a proposed new rule to kill off data brokers, who are the lynchpin of the industry:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/16/the-second-best-time-is-now/#the-point-of-a-system-is-what-it-does

The other witnesses were fascinating – and chilling, There was a lawyer from the AARP who explained how data-brokers would let you target ads to categories like "seniors with dementia." Then there was someone from the Pentagon, discussing how anyone could do an ad-buy targeting "people enlisted in the armed forces who have gambling problems." Sure, I thought, and you don't even need these explicit categories: if you served an ad to "people 25-40 with Ivy League/Big Ten law or political science degrees within 5 miles of Congress," you could serve an ad with a malicious payload to every Congressional staffer.

Now, that's just the data brokers. The real action is in ad-tech, a sector dominated by two giant companies, Meta and Google. These companies claim that they are better than the unregulated data-broker cowboys at the bottom of the food-chain. They say they're responsible wielders of unregulated monopoly surveillance power. Reader, they are not.

Meta has been repeatedly caught offering ad-targeting like "depressed teenagers" (great for your next incel recruiting drive):

https://www.technologyreview.com/2017/05/01/105987/is-facebook-targeting-ads-at-sad-teens/

And Google? They just keep on getting caught with both hands in the creepy commercial surveillance cookie-jar. Today, Wired's Dell Cameron and Dhruv Mehrotra report on a way to use Google to target people with chronic illnesses, people in financial distress, and national security "decision makers":

https://www.wired.com/story/google-dv360-banned-audience-segments-national-security/

Google doesn't offer these categories itself, they just allow data-brokers to assemble them and offer them for sale via Google. Just as it's possible to generate a target of "Congressional staffers" by using location and education data, it's possible to target people with chronic illnesses based on things like whether they regularly travel to clinics that treat HIV, asthma, chronic pain, etc.

Google claims that this violates their policies, and that they have best-of-breed technical measures to prevent this from happening, but when Wired asked how this data-broker was able to sell these audiences – including people in menopause, or with "chronic pain, fibromyalgia, psoriasis, arthritis, high cholesterol, and hypertension" – Google did not reply.

The data broker in the report also sold access to people based on which medications they took (including Ambien), people who abuse opioids or are recovering from opioid addiction, people with endocrine disorders, and "contractors with access to restricted US defense-related technologies."

It's easy to see how these categories could enable blackmail, spear-phishing, scams, malvertising, and many other crimes that threaten individuals, groups, and the nation as a whole. The US Office of Naval Intelligence has already published details of how "anonymous" people targeted by ads can be identified:

https://www.odni.gov/files/ODNI/documents/assessments/ODNI-Declassified-Report-on-CAI-January2022.pdf

The most amazing part is how the 33,000 targeting segments came to public light: an activist just pretended to be an ad buyer, and the data-broker sent him the whole package, no questions asked. Johnny Ryan is a brilliant Irish privacy activist with the Irish Council for Civil Liberties. He created a fake data analytics website for a company that wasn't registered anywhere, then sent out a sales query to a brokerage (the brokerage isn't identified in the piece, to prevent bad actors from using it to attack targeted categories of people).

Foreign states, including China – a favorite boogeyman of the US national security establishment – can buy Google's data and target users based on Google ad-tech stack. In the past, Chinese spies have used malvertising – serving targeted ads loaded with malware – to attack their adversaries. Chinese firms spend billions every year to target ads to Americans:

https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/06/business/google-meta-temu-shein.html

Google and Meta have no meaningful checks to prevent anyone from establishing a shell company that buys and targets ads with their services, and the data-brokers that feed into those services are even less well-protected against fraud and other malicious act.

All of this is only possible because Congress has failed to act on privacy since 1988. That's the year that Congress passed the Video Privacy Protection Act, which bans video store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you have at home. That's also the last time Congress passed a federal consumer privacy law:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Video_Privacy_Protection_Act

The legislative history of the VPPA is telling: it was passed after a newspaper published the leaked video-rental history of a far-right judge named Robert Bork, whom Reagan hoped to elevate to the Supreme Court. Bork failed his Senate confirmation hearings, but not because of his video rentals (he actually had pretty good taste in movies). Rather, it was because he was a Nixonite criminal and virulent loudmouth racist whose record was strewn with the most disgusting nonsense imaginable).

But the leak of Bork's video-rental history gave Congress the cold grue. His video rental history wasn't embarrassing, but it sure seemed like Congress had some stuff in its video-rental records that they didn't want voters finding out about. They beat all land-speed records in making it a crime to tell anyone what kind of movies they (and we) were watching.

And that was it. For 37 years, Congress has completely failed to pass another consumer privacy law. Which is how we got here – to this moment where you can target ads to suicidal teens, gambling addicted soldiers in Minuteman silos, grannies with Alzheimer's, and every Congressional staffer on the Hill.

Some people think the problem with mass surveillance is a kind of machine-driven, automated mind-control ray. They believe the self-aggrandizing claims of tech bros to have finally perfected the elusive mind-control ray, using big data and machine learning.

But you don't need to accept these outlandish claims – which come from Big Tech's sales literature, wherein they boast to potential advertisers that surveillance ads are devastatingly effective – to understand how and why this is harmful. If you're struggling with opioid addiction and I target an ad to you for a fake cure or rehab center, I haven't brainwashed you – I've just tricked you. We don't have to believe in mind-control to believe that targeted lies can cause unlimited harms.

And those harms are indeed grave. Stein's Law predicts that "anything that can't go on forever eventually stops." Congress's failure on privacy has put us all at risk – including Congress. It's only a matter of time until the commercial surveillance industry is responsible for a massive leak, targeted phishing campaign, or a ghastly national security incident involving Congress. Perhaps then we will get action.

In the meantime, the coalition of people whose problems can be blamed on the failure to update privacy law continues to grow. That coalition includes protesters whose identities were served up to cops, teenagers who were tracked to out-of-state abortion clinics, people of color who were discriminated against in hiring and lending, and anyone who's been harassed with deepfake porn:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/20/privacy-first-second-third/#malvertising

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[brunchable]

It's not a Meet-𝑪𝒖𝒕𝒆, it's a Meet-𝗨𝗴𝗹𝘆.

《 Chapter 5: Your Crying Shoulder. 》

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: It's not a meet-cute, it's a meet ugly, Grumpy Meets ✨️Sunshine✨️, Opposites Attract, Sassy Pet Matchmaker, Enemies-to-Lovers (Lite), Destined to meet again, Bucky is a hidden softie. Summary: When everything falling apart, you found yourself in the arms of the person you least expected. A/N: This story will be OUTSIDE of MCU but Bucky's traits will be mixed comics/mcu. This will be updated every FRIDAY(AEST). I can't help but place a TikTok meme in here somewhere lmao. Credits to me for the Banner lmfao. credits to @ khaer for the divider.

Mission Report - J. B. Barnes To: N. Fury Subject: Family Dynamics

Key Findings

1. Family Structure

Y/N Y/LN: CEO of The Emporium NYC, handling New York operations, public relations, and key corporate responsibilities.

Jonathan [Half-Brother]: Oversees Miami branch expansions and operational strategies. Professional but distant relationship with Y/N, characterized by mutual respect and a clear division of responsibilities.

2. Operational Observations

Financial Irregularities: Offshore accounts linked to Emporium subsidiaries display significant fund transfers with unclear purposes. Investigating their potential connection to Hydra-related activities is a priority.

Board Affiliations: Certain board members are linked to political figures and tech firms specializing in advanced security technologies. Their involvement requires further investigation for possible ties to Hydra.

Employee Turnover: Leadership restructuring followed Y/N’s promotion. Several former executives now hold external consulting roles, potentially redirecting focus from Emporium’s internal operations.

3. Personal Relationships

Rhys: Y/N’s boyfriend and the son of a global luxury hotel mogul. While not directly involved in Emporium operations, his influential family ties and potential connections to Y/N's network merit attention.

4. Behavioral Insights

Y/N demonstrates dedication to her role but shows signs of frustration with corporate pressures. She appears unaware of financial irregularities within the organization, suggesting compartmentalization of information.

No evidence connects Y/N directly to suspicious activities. Monitoring her relationship with Rhys could provide additional context, as his background and resources may intersect with Emporium’s broader dealings.

Recommendations

1. Background Checks: Investigate board members, financial consultants, and Rhys’s family business for any links to Emporium's offshore holdings and potential Hydra connections.

2. Monitor Relationships: Subtly observe Y/N’s interactions with Rhys and board members for indirect insights.

3. Enhanced Financial Scrutiny: Deepen analysis of offshore accounts to establish potential links between Emporium funds and Hydra-backed projects.

End of Report

× × × ×

Figaro pranced confidently into Bucky’s apartment, his tail held high, a familiar item clamped between his teeth. Alpine looked up from her spot on the windowsill, tilting her head as she watched him strut across the room.

“Alpine,” Figaro greeted, setting down the item—a soft, worn scarf that unmistakably carried your scent.

Alpine sniffed at the scarf, then looked at Figaro, a glint of curiosity in her eyes. “Your human let you out with… that?”

Figaro settled down next to her, casually licking a paw. 

“Oh, she doesn’t know I took it,” he replied with a lazy flick of his tail. “But I thought you might appreciate a little reminder of her.” He gave her a knowing look, lowering his voice. “She was patching up your human’s busted lip the other night, by the way.”

Alpine’s eyes narrowed with amusement. “Did she now? And did you happen to notice the way he was looking at her?” she asked, her whiskers twitching.

“Oh, I noticed. He was all ‘I’m tough, but not too tough for you,’” Figaro said, imitating a dramatic swoon, then rolled his eyes with exaggerated flair. “Honestly, he’s got it bad. She was fussing over him, and he was eating it up like a kitten with a saucer of cream.”

Alpine purred thoughtfully. “Well, it’s about time. But he won’t admit that to himself.”

“Yeah, well, the issue,” Figaro continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone, “is that there’s another guy in her life. Rhys.” He spat out the name with as much disdain as a cat could muster. “Total bore. Calls her ‘baby’ like it’s some kind of magic spell. And he smells like cheap cologne. Honestly, his existence is an insult to felines everywhere.”

Alpine’s ears perked up. “So he’s competition?”

Figaro scoffed. 

“Please. He’s like the knockoff toy they keep at the bottom of the discount bin. My human doesn’t even smile around him anymore; she just tolerates him. But every time your guy shows up, she lights up like it’s Christmas morning.” He stretched, his claws extending as if to make his point. “I’m telling you, we’ve got to get rid of him. For the sake of all that is right in the world.”

Alpine let out a thoughtful meow, eyeing the scarf Figaro had brought. “You know, if we could just keep nudging them together, maybe they’ll take the hint. They’re not too bright, but they’ve got chemistry.”

“Exactly!” Figaro said, his eyes gleaming. “Our owners are hopeless without us. This is a mission, Alpine. A noble mission. A mission to save her from that pathetic excuse for a partner.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “And frankly, if I have to listen to him call her ‘baby’ one more time, I might cough up a hairball on his shoes.”

Alpine let out a low chuckle, nudging Figaro with her paw. “Well then, Mr. Matchmaker. What’s the plan?”

“Oh, I’ve got ideas,” Figaro said, eyes narrowing as if deep in thought. “Plenty of ideas. After all, I’m doing the world a favor.”

× × × ×

There was cold silence since that tense encounter with Rhys, and though you’d pushed it to the back of your mind, his apology text had come through late tonight, begging you to talk. You decided, almost against your better judgment, to go. Maybe it was a habit, maybe just closure. But as you reached the hotel and made your way up to his office, a cold, uneasy feeling settled in the pit of your stomach.

The hall was dimly lit as you approached, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Then, as you neared the frosted glass door of Rhys’ office, you stopped in your tracks. Two silhouettes were visible through the blurred glass, close, intimate. You watched as Rhys pressed a woman—with a golden hair clip—against the glass, their forms locked together in a kiss that left little to the imagination.

Your throat tightened, a dull ache building in your chest as the weight of the betrayal hit you. To be honest, I felt like I already knew it, you thought, the silent admission somehow worse than the scene unfolding in front of you. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less. You tried to swallow down the emotions swirling within you—anger, sadness, and that unmistakable pang of disappointment. Being cheated on hurt, even when you’d mentally checked out of the relationship. It chipped away at something deeper, a quiet part of your self-worth you hadn’t realized still cared.

Water rimmed your eyes, but you blinked it back, refusing to let him take that from you too. You inhaled deeply, straightened your shoulders, and turned away from the office door, leaving as quietly as you’d arrived.

× × × ×  Fews days after

Bucky squinted, utterly baffled. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he muttered. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling absurdly judged by a cat.

Alpine huffed, letting out a short, dismissive meow, clearly unimpressed with whatever answer she’d decided on. She trotted off toward her food bowl, pausing just once to throw him a final, critical look before bending to eat.

“Alright, sure, just go back to ignoring me,” Bucky grumbled, watching her. But as he leaned against the counter, glancing down at the faint trace of your scent still on his sleeve, he couldn’t help feeling like Alpine had silently decided something about him that she wasn’t going to share anytime soon.

Bucky watched Alpine chowing down on her food, her tail flicking in satisfaction as she devoured each bite with gusto. He allowed himself a moment of peace, but then came the unmistakable sound of someone struggling with his lock.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered under his breath, his mind flashing back to the night you’d drunkenly tried breaking into his apartment, mistaking it for yours. Swinging the door open, he was prepared for a repeat performance, only to be met with Sam, frozen in mid-action, his hand clutching a spare key. Behind him stood Steve, holding two large bags of takeout, and Nat, arms crossed with a smirk.

“Uh… hey, Buck,” Sam greeted, attempting a casual tone while quickly tucking the key behind his back like he hadn’t just been caught red-handed.

“Why are you trying to break into my place?” Bucky narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

Sam cleared his throat, glancing at Steve and Nat for backup. 

“We’re, uh… your backup! Sent by Fury.” He flashed a grin that looked anything but innocent.

“Backup?” Bucky repeated, deadpan, as the three of them filed in with the casualness of seasoned intruders. “Fury said it was a simple assignment. Barely a mission.”

Steve rolled his eyes, giving Bucky a pitying look as he passed by to set down the bags on the table. “You really believed that? Seriously?”

Bucky opened his mouth to argue, but before he could get a word in, Nat had already made her way over to Alpine, who blinked up at her with the smug satisfaction of a cat who’d been expecting her. Nat scratched Alpine’s ears as Alpine purred, looking even more at ease than Bucky had ever seen her.

Just as Nat leaned down to pet Alpine, her gaze flicked up, catching sight of Bucky’s busted lip. She raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Nice lip, Buck. Trouble on the way to the door?”

Bucky’s hand instinctively went up to his mouth. “Oh, that? I… tripped over Alpine.”

Steve’s head whipped around, eyes narrowing as he tried to keep a straight face. 

“You tripped… over Alpine?” He looked down at the serene, not-at-all-menacing cat sitting contentedly by Nat’s side, then back up at Bucky, clearly struggling to hold back a laugh.

Bucky crossed his arms, his expression turning defensive. “It’s possible, alright? She’s tiny but lethal.”

Sam let out a snort. “Yeah, sure. I’m sure the Winter Soldier can handle a battalion of Hydra agents but gets taken out by a house cat.”

“Don’t you guys have anything better to do?” Bucky just rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as Sam already raiding the fridge like he owned it. 

“Oh no, please, make yourselves at home. I’ll just find somewhere else to live, shall I?” Bucky’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he watched the scene unfold. 

“Buck, you have got to keep better beer in here. This stuff is practically water.” He settled on a bottle anyway, taking a long swig before glancing back at Bucky. “We’re just here to help, man. Think of us as… extended housemates.”

Bucky crossed his arms tighter, a look of utter disbelief on his face. “Extended housemates?” He gestured at the room. “You act like you already live here!”

Steve, entirely unbothered, started setting out the food, carefully placing burgers on plates and arranging napkins. “We thought you might need a little company. I mean, it’s a Friday night, after all.”

“I’m perfectly fine alone, thanks,” Bucky replied, his gaze narrowing as he watched Sam polish off half a beer in one go. “How about you go keep each other company?”

Steve chuckled, handing a plate to Nat. “You said the same thing last time we showed up. Yet, here we are. Again.”

Nat, now comfortably settled on the couch with Alpine, flashed him a wicked grin. “Let’s not be dramatic, Bucky. Just think of us as… spontaneous visitors.”

“Visitors don’t usually come with their own keys,” Bucky grumbled, his gaze settling on Sam, who was busy rifling through his cabinets for snacks. “And they certainly don’t bring takeout to make themselves at home.”

Sam shrugged, unfazed. “You think of it as invading your privacy; I think of it as improving the vibe around here.”

Bucky let out an exasperated sigh. “I swear, one of these days, I’m changing the locks.”

“Good luck with that. We’ll just get new keys.” Nat smirked, scratching Alpine’s head as if she were orchestrating a coup. 

Bucky glared, but Steve was already setting a plate piled with ribs and a burger in front of him. “Eat up, Buck. Before Sam devours everything like the human garbage disposal he is.”

Sam waved his beer bottle, looking completely unbothered. “Hey, I resent that. This is strategic eating. Besides, with your ‘barely-a-mission,’ we need all the fuel we can get.”

“I’m starting to think Fury set me up.” Bucky rubbed his forehead, exasperated but clearly losing the battle.

Steve just grinned, popping open his own beer. “I’m sure Fury thought you’d appreciate the backup.”

“Or at least tolerate it,” Sam added, grabbing a handful of fries and popping them into his mouth.

With a resigned sigh, Bucky sank into a chair, shaking his head. “You guys are impossible.”

“Impossible is our specialty,” Sam shot back, raising his beer in a mock toast. “To back up, and to Buck finally admitting he likes having us around.”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Bucky snorted. 

Alpine purred louder, clearly pleased with the lively atmosphere, while Nat smirked at Bucky. “See? Even Alpine agrees. You’re just a grump with a soft spot for us, admit it.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Fine. But next time, bring your own key.”

“Oh, we will,” Steve assured him with a smirk. “And maybe a couch, a pillow or two.”

Sam, now munching contentedly on fries, raised his beer again. “To crashing Bucky’s place—where every night is a mission, and the food’s free.”

Bucky took a reluctant bite of his burger, trying to ignore how comfortable his “guests” had made themselves. Just as he was starting to think the worst was over, Steve casually leaned over to Sam, as if sharing a quiet plan.

“We’ll grab the rest of our stuff from the car when Buck’s asleep,” Steve said, completely deadpan.

Bucky nearly choked on his burger, staring at Steve like he’d lost his mind. “The rest of your stuff? What are you talking about?”

Sam, without missing a beat, grinned. “Perfect. Nat can take the bedroom, and the three of us can crash in the living room. It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Nat raised her eyebrows, feigning delight. “I called dibs on the bed, anyway. I always knew Buck had the fluffiest pillows.”

“Hold on, hold on! This isn’t some youth hostel! You all have your own places!” Bucky’s face twisted in horror as he looked around the room. 

“Yeah, but none of our places have a view of you panicking about your personal space.” Steve looked unbothered, casually unwrapping another burger.

Bucky glared. 

“I’m not panicking! I just—” He waved a hand in utter frustration. “This is my place! You can’t just... commandeer my bed!”

“Don’t worry, Buck. We’ll all be snug as bugs on the floor, reliving those good ol’ days in the barracks.” Sam leaned back, looking way too comfortable for someone who’d apparently just broken in.

“Except Nat,” Steve corrected, “who will be enjoying Buck’s luxurious mattress.”

Bucky looked to Alpine, almost pleading. “You see what I deal with? Even the cat respects my space more than you three!”

Alpine simply blinked, looking rather indifferent to her owner’s plight as she happily settled on Nat’s lap.

“Oh, come on, Buck,” Sam said, reaching over to ruffle Bucky’s hair. “We’ll make it fun! Popcorn, ghost stories, some embarrassing truths about Fury… just like old times.”

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve added, grinning. “Think of it as team bonding.”

Bucky threw his hands up. “This isn’t bonding! This is trespassing! And I don’t want to hear any ghost stories or truths about Fury. I want my bed, my couch, and my fridge not raided!”

Nat sighed, patting Alpine who purred louder. “Look, Buck. Clearly, Alpine’s on board. You’re outvoted.”

“Traitor.” Bucky narrowed his eyes, looking at Alpine in betrayal.

Steve chuckled, leaning back with a smug grin. “Face it, Buck. Tonight’s already decided.”

Bucky let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head as he muttered under his breath. “Next time, I’m leaving the country.”

× × × ×

You strode into the dimly lit restaurant, greeted by a chorus of cheers and mock applause as Serena, Mei, and Jane raised their glasses, voices rising in unison. "Woooo, here comes the CEO!"

You shook your head, laughing as you took your seat, subtly glancing around the table. Your gaze caught on one unfamiliar face, though it took a split second longer for the memory to click into place. Carly. She was Rhys' new assistant, a realization that caused your brow to lift just slightly. You’d thought she looked familiar from somewhere else, but with her new polished appearance and newfound confidence, it was hard to tell right away.

Chloe, ever the instigator, nudged Carly forward with a smile that held a hint of challenge. 

“Ladies, meet Carly. You might remember her, Y/N. She used to work at The Emporium,” she said, her words smooth but her gaze pointed.

You kept your expression cool, a practiced smile settling on your lips. “Ah, that explains why she looks familiar.” You gave Carly a nod, and she responded with a forced smile, her eyes holding something less friendly beneath the surface.

The evening moved along, filled with laughter and a few rounds of drinks. Serena, Mei, and Jane offered congratulations, and Sarah, as always, played the role of your unwavering cheerleader, throwing a few enthusiastic compliments your way. But as the night flowed, it was Mei who leaned in, her voice dipping into a sympathetic tone.

“So, I heard Rhys de Armande cheated on you.”

You blinked, not expecting the topic to surface so bluntly. You forced yourself to keep your expression neutral, though a subtle flicker crossed your face.

“You forced a light laugh, though your jaw tightened beneath it. “Oh, it was probably because I told him to take his bare minimum and keep it out of my sight. Pretty sure he wanted to vanish into thin air after that, especially since his entire office got to witness it.”

Jane, Mei, and Serena burst into laughter, clearly picturing the scene as you animatedly relayed the story.

“Oh my gosh, that’s incredible,” Serena giggled, shaking her head. “He absolutely deserved every bit of that.”

You let out a faint laugh, flipping your hair back and letting it settle over your shoulder as you raised an eyebrow. “Ugh, I’m too busy with work to be hurt by this kind of stuff,” you replied, feigning a casual air as you took a sip of your drink, though the words had a hard edge underneath.

“Do you know who the woman was?” Serena leaned forward, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.

Chloe’s lips curled into a faint smirk.

“I mean, with Rhys’ type, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s someone… eager to climb the ladder, if you know what I mean,” Mei said.

Sarah’s eyes flashed, and she opened her mouth, ready to retort, but you discreetly squeezed her hand under the table, keeping your expression smooth. You didn’t need her stepping in right now. 

“You should’ve grabbed her hair!” Jane piped up, half-laughing, her fist in the air as if she were ready to throw a punch herself, “I respect the way you’re so laid back, because honestly I would’ve gone apeshit.”

“Oh, forget it. He’s the one who cheated. I couldn’t care less about her,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “She’s probably no different from him—anyways! Enough about him!”

As the words left your mouth, Carly’s face visibly tightened, her forced smile slipping as she pushed back her chair, muttering under her breath as she walked off toward the restroom. Her eyes flickered with a glare that lingered on you as she departed, barely concealing the frustration bubbling beneath her cool facade.

Serena raised her eyebrows, catching the shift in mood. “What’s with her? She was glaring at you the whole time.”

“Oh, who knows,” Sarah murmured, watching Carly’s retreating figure with a slight smirk, her hand still entwined in yours beneath the table, a sign of solidarity.

Chloe glanced after Carly, a subtle, knowing smile playing on her lips. “Probably just adjusting to her new… surroundings.”

You glanced down at your phone, barely containing the irritation rising within you as you took in the image on the screen: Rhys and Carly, cozy on a beach, his arms wrapped around her as if he hadn’t been apologizing to you just days earlier. It was from an unknown number, but there was no doubt in your mind who had sent it.

With a measured breath, you slipped the phone back into your bag and stood, offering your friends a polite excuse before following the path Carly had taken. You found her just outside the restrooms, leaning casually against the wall with a smug smile, almost as if she’d been waiting.

“Why did you send me that?” You stopped in front of her, gaze steady.

She didn’t bother hiding her grin, crossing her arms as she looked you over. “Because I wanted you to know.”

“Know what?” You raised an eyebrow. “That Rhys cheated on me?”

“No,” she replied with a sickeningly sweet smile, crossing her arms tighter. “That I seduced your boyfriend. You seemed completely fine with it.”

A scoff escaped you as you let out a dry laugh, crossing your own arms. 

“Did you expect me to crumble just because I was cheated on?” You tilted your head, studying her. “Alright, let’s say you two ‘fell in love.’ Then you should be apologizing to me—”

Her smile faltered as she cut you off, her voice raising a fraction. “I felt guilty at first. But then you acted like it wasn’t a big deal. You weren’t curious about me, didn’t even acknowledge what I did. So my self-esteem? It just kept plummeting.”

You looked at her, incredulous, and chuckled coldly. “Wow—seriously? You’re such a loser—You’re blaming me for your self-esteem issues?”

Her lips pursed in irritation. “Why shouldn’t I? Why do you think I can’t do what you do? I can seduce your man and be just as successful—be just like you. But you never gave me the chance. Not only that, you took my opportunity at The Emporium away from me.”

“Ah,” you murmured, amusement in your voice. “So this is about me firing you?”

Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowing. “You didn’t deserve to be in that position. You act so high and mighty, like nothing can shake you. You have it all, don’t you? The job, the influence, the respect. But guess what? I can take what’s yours. I already did, didn’t I?”

You laughed, unbothered, shaking your head slowly. 

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You stepped closer, gaze locked on hers. “If you couldn’t handle the job, that’s on you. Throwing this little tantrum only proves I was right about you. As for Rhys…” You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You can keep him. My ex cheating doesn’t affect my work—but you? You do. So maybe I’ll have a word with his parents and see how your career fairs then.”

You turned to leave, but her voice came out sharp, dripping with venom. “You can’t pretend you’re not bitter about it. That’s why you’re here, right? To confront me?”

Pausing, you glanced over your shoulder, an icy smile on your lips. “Ever step on something nasty on the sidewalk? Hmm I don’t know like shit? It’s a pain, but you don’t let it ruin your day. You wipe it off and move on. That’s what you and Rhys are to me—Shit—something I’ll be glad to scrape off my shoe.”

Without another glance, you strode back to the table, your head held high. Your friends glanced up as you approached, a few eyebrows raised.

“Everything okay?” Sarah asked, eyeing you with mild concern.

You forced a polite smile, nodding as you picked up your bag. “Actually, I’ve got an early meeting tomorrow. I should get going.”

With a few quick goodbyes, you left, satisfaction settling over you as you stepped out, knowing you’d left Carly exactly where she belonged—behind you.

× × × × 

“Sarah! Open the noor! I know you're in there, Sarah! Open the noor!” Your drunken voice slurred through the quiet hallway, louder with every knock.

Inside, Bucky froze, instantly recognizing your voice. His eyes widened, and he shot a panicked look at the mountain of files scattered across his coffee table—the very files on you and The Emporium that he’d been piecing through with Steve, Sam, and Nat.

“Everyone! Gather the files, now!” he hissed, immediately jumping to action.

“What? Why? Relax, man, we’re not under attack or anything.” Sam raised an eyebrow, lounging on the couch with a half-eaten sandwich.

Bucky shot him a glare, practically yanking the files out from under Sam’s plate. “One of our ‘subjects’ is outside the door, Sam! Now MOVE!”

“Wait, you mean her?” Steve asked, eyes widening as the banging on the door got louder.

“Yes!” Bucky hissed, shoving an armful of files into Steve’s hands. “Now stop talking and start hiding!”

Nat rolled her eyes, stacking papers hastily. “Isn’t this a little dramatic? She’s probably just lost.”

“She’s not ‘lost,’ she’s drunk!” Bucky snapped. “And I’d rather not explain why I’m reviewing her life story with three nosy intruders!”

“Oh, we’re the intruders now?” Steve muttered as he clutched a bundle of files to his chest. “Could’ve sworn we were here for your mission!”

The banging grew even louder. 

“Sarah! Don’t you ignore me, woman!” Your voice was muffled but determined, sounding like you were one step away from kicking the door down.

“Go, go, go! Get in there!” Bucky herded them like sheep, arms waving wildly as he tried to push them toward the bedroom.

“Ow, Bucky, stop shoving!” Sam complained, elbowing Bucky back as he tripped over a rogue sneaker. “Seriously, why are you acting like we’re about to be raided?”

“Because she’ll see this mess and ask questions!” Bucky shot back, pushing him forward again. “Just get in and be quiet!”

Nat stumbled as Bucky prodded her toward the door, muttering, “Why are you so panicked? Did you do something wrong, Buck?”

“Would you all just move?!” Bucky whispered furiously, practically bulldozing them all through his bedroom door. “I’ll explain later. Just don’t make a sound!”

Steve stumbled, catching himself with a loud “Ow!” as Bucky finally got all three of them behind the door. He shut it firmly and leaned against it with a sigh, only to hear a loud “Shh!” from Nat, Sam, and Steve bickering in hushed whispers.

“Move your elbow!”

“Steve, that’s my foot—ow!”

“Could you three not sound like an entire stampede?”

Outside, your voice grew louder, slurring but stubborn as ever. “Saarah! Come on, I brought sushiiii!”

Bucky took a breath and opened the door, his expression calm yet barely holding it together. There you stood, wobbling slightly, hair slightly mussed, and an unmistakable grin on your face when you saw him.

“Oh! Sarah, you changed! You look so much taller… and more... Bucky-like.”

“Uh, hi,” he said as he steadied you. “I think you might have the wrong door, trash panda.”

You blinked, frowning, and swayed a little closer. “Wrong door? But I brought sushi! And, wait—” You squinted at him, leaning in. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, Bucky,” he confirmed, holding back a chuckle as you gave him a suspiciously scrutinizing look.

“Ohhh…” you drawled, clearly trying to process it all. “Well, if you see Sarah, tell her the sushi is... sushi-ing.”

He nodded, keeping his tone light, even though his friends were probably eavesdropping as best they could. 

“Will do. And, uh… maybe we should get you home?”

“Good idea. But you keep this. Looks like you could use some fish.” You nodded, albeit unsteadily, handing him a stray piece of sushi. 

You gave Bucky a wobbly smile, one that looked a little too determined for someone in your state. Before Bucky could stop you, you swayed forward, making a beeline past him and into his apartment.

“Wait, Y/N—this isn’t… Sarah’s place!” he said, barely catching up as you staggered into his kitchen.

“Close enough,” you slurred with a grin, swaying dramatically from side to side as you reached for the fridge handle. Alpine, sensing a new friend in distress, trotted over, rubbing against your legs with enthusiastic little chirps.

“Oh! Hey, kitty!” you cooed, reaching down to pet her, then looking up at Bucky with wide, innocent eyes. “Sarah’s cat never welcomes me like this. See? She gets me.”

Bucky ran a hand over his face, half-amused, half-panicked. “Right. Because Alpine just loves guests raiding the kitchen.”

You opened the fridge door, inspecting the shelves as if on a mission. 

“Where’s the… the ice cream?” you muttered, voice muffled by the refrigerator door. “Sarah always has chocolate fudge swirl, and I need it.”

“Seriously, you’re in the wrong apartment,” Bucky tried, sounding both exasperated and entertained as he reached out, but you sidestepped, one hand still on the fridge door, the other now waving vaguely in the air.

“Shhh, Bucky,” you chided, squinting as you leaned in further, peering deeper into the fridge with a sense of deep concentration. Alpine padded around you, her tail curling around your ankle, clearly thrilled to have you there.

“Listen, Bucky,” you slurred, not even glancing up, “all I want… is chocolate ice cream and maybe… maybe a good laugh. Do you have tissues? I feel like I’ll need them, like, a lot of them.”

Bucky couldn’t help the grin tugging at his lips. He tried his best to guide you away from the fridge gently, but you shot him a mildly annoyed look, shoving a stray pack of carrots aside as if they were personally offensive.

“Don’t you dare hide the good stuff behind the veggies,” you said, mock-scolding him as Alpine hopped onto the counter, watching the scene with wide, curious eyes, tail twitching.

“Really, Alpine?” Bucky muttered at his cat, who was clearly rooting for you and even pawed at Bucky’s hand as if to say, Let her have the ice cream!

“I knew you’d understand me, Alpine,” you cooed at the cat, as if she were your personal support group. “See, Bucky? Even she gets it. She knows.”

Bucky sighed, half-heartedly resigned. “You know what, fine. If Alpine says so, who am I to argue?”

Finally, you pulled out a random tub—yogurt, not ice cream—and peered at it in disappointment. 

“Greek yogurt? Bucky, are you… are you okay?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, perfectly fine, thanks.”

You blinked at him, still clutching the tub. “Well, clearly, you’re living a sad existence if this is all you’ve got.”

“Or I’m just not prepared for unexpected trash pandas who raid my fridge,” he replied, crossing his arms, trying not to burst out laughing as you clung to Alpine for support, who purred loudly, delighted with the chaos.

“Fine, then!” you declared dramatically, patting Alpine’s head. “Alpine and I will fend for ourselves.” You turned on your heel (or tried to, at least), your balance giving out just slightly as you wobbled with an exaggerated sway. Alpine gave an encouraging “mrrp!” as if saying, Yes! Go forth!

Bucky finally took pity on you, grabbing a pint of actual ice cream from the freezer, waving it like a peace offering. “This? Will this make you happy, your highness?”

You lit up, the joy on your face as radiant as if he’d handed you a crown. “Now that’s more like it!” you cheered, taking the tub, your steps still swaying as you made your way to his couch.

Bucky followed you over, shaking his head as you sat down, giving Alpine a spot next to you. He sat down nearby, stifling a chuckle as you dug into the ice cream.

“So… just gonna crash here tonight, then?” he asked, leaning back with a smirk.

You waved the spoon dismissively, barely even looking up. “Obviously. And you, Bucky Barnes, need to get more ice cream. Greek yogurt’s just… depressing.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “Noted.”

You tore into the box of tissues, your frustration boiling over as you whipped open the plastic bag for trash with the precision of someone handling a life-or-death task. In one hand, you wielded the spoon like a weapon, in the other, a tissue you’d already shredded halfway. Bucky sat a few feet away, wide-eyed, clearly out of his depth. Alpine perched on the coffee table instead, her tail swishing in judgment, shooting Bucky a look that all but screamed, Fix this.

“You good there?” Bucky asked cautiously, his voice hesitant, like he wasn’t sure whether he should move closer or start looking for an escape route.

You let out a short, sharp laugh—bitter, too loud for the small space. “Good? Oh yeah, I’m great! I mean, how could I not be? My ex-boyfriend cheated on me with his assistant, who, surprise, also happens to be the same girl I fired for being utterly incompetent.”

Bucky, sitting stiffly on the couch, could only blink as you laughed. Not a gentle laugh, but one that bordered on hysteria, punctuated by short, sharp breaths. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from something funny; it was the kind that cracked through the tension when words couldn’t quite hold the weight of everything you were feeling.

“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed, raising your spoon as if to make a toast. “It’s just perfect, isn’t it? Fired her for being terrible at customer service, and what does she do? Rebounds as my boyfriend’s personal assistant. Like, how poetic is that?” You gestured with the tissue, accidentally flinging it onto the coffee table, but you didn’t stop. 

“And then—get this—she blames me for her low self-esteem! Like, excuse me for not sending her a gift basket after she slept with my boyfriend. I mean—” You let out a bark of laughter, shaking your head as tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. “You can’t make this stuff up!”

“And then tonight?” You gestured wildly with your spoon. “Tonight, I had to sit there, all smiles, pretending like everything was fine, because God forbid I let anyone think I’m not. And Carly—oh, Carly—had the audacity to act like she’s the victim. She felt bad about it! Isn’t that just hilarious?” You scooped another bite of ice cream, your laughter spilling out, sharp and brittle, filling the air like broken glass.

Bucky sat frozen, his jaw slightly ajar, his heart twisting as he watched you spiral. You leaned forward, still laughing, the sound echoing unnaturally in the quiet apartment. You looked absurd, sitting there with a tub of ice cream and tissues in hand, trying to force humor into something that was clearly tearing you apart.

“Y/N,” Bucky said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t seem to hear him, your laugh rising in pitch as you tilted your head back, wiping your face with the back of your hand. “It’s hilarious, really. Just the perfect little tragedy. I kind of saw it coming, you know? Rhys was always—”

“Y/N.” Bucky’s voice was firmer this time, cutting through the haze of your spiraling thoughts like a blade.

He moved off the couch, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his steady blue eyes locking onto yours. The laughter caught in your throat as you met his gaze. There was no judgment in his expression, no pity—just an unwavering presence that felt like a lifeline. His gaze softened, like he was offering you something you weren’t sure how to accept.

“Just cry,” he said, his voice calm but resolute.

Your lips parted as if to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. The lump in your throat tightened, and for a moment, you thought you could hold it together. But the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—broke down every defense you’d spent the evening building.

“Don’t force yourself to laugh,” he added gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “It’s okay to cry.”

Your smile wavered, trembling at the edges before fading completely. You looked away, the dam bursting as tears spilled over, hot and relentless. A shaky breath escaped you, and your hands fumbled with the tissue box, but they were trembling too much to hold anything.

Bucky let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the closed bedroom door. He rarely, if ever, allowed anyone to see this side of him. Vulnerability wasn’t something he was used to sharing—especially not with his friends only a room away. But for you? He didn’t hesitate.

“Ah, screw it,” he muttered under his breath.

Alpine let out a soft “mrrp” of approval, watching as Bucky leaned forward, wrapping a careful arm around your smaller frame. He didn’t say anything, just held you close, letting you bury your face against his chest. His touch was gentle but grounding, the steady rhythm of his breathing anchoring you as you finally let yourself break.

He rested his chin lightly on top of your head, his other hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back. The weight of your head against his chest grounded him as much as he hoped it comforted you.

Alpine, perched on the coffee table, watched with what could only be described as smug satisfaction, her tail flicking contentedly.

Bucky’s awkwardness melted away bit by bit as he felt your breathing begin to even out against him. He let out a soft sigh, glancing down at you. Alpine’s watchful gaze was fixed on him, as if daring him to get this right. Bucky cleared his throat, searching for the right words, feeling more vulnerable than he’d admit.

“You know… you’re stronger than you think,” he said, his thumb grazing your shoulder without him realizing. “You take on so much, and you do it with so much grace. Even when you don’t have to.”

Your breath caught, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze, his blue eyes soft but unwavering.

“I know you don’t need me or anyone else to tell you how incredible you are. But, just… let someone see it, will you? Because you… you deserve that. And I mean every damn word.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, and you felt a rare sense of peace, your heart light in a way it hadn’t felt in so long. Bucky looked at you, his expression softening further as he took in the sight of your smile, his own heart skipping a beat.

Just as the warmth of Bucky’s words started to sink in, your phone erupted with an insistent buzz, breaking the peaceful moment. You glanced down to see Rhys’ name flashing on the screen. You groaned, but before you could even react, Bucky had snatched the phone from your hand, holding it up as it vibrated relentlessly.

On the fourth ring, Bucky pressed "answer," bringing the phone to his ear with a calm confidence that sent a thrill through you, his voice dropping to a dangerous calm.

“Rhys right? You know, she’s a little busy right now…” he greeted, the single word laced with a tension that could cut glass. “Here’s the deal: you’re gonna stop calling her. Got that?”

You watched, wide-eyed, as Bucky ended the call without waiting for a response and promptly shut off the phone. He set it down with an air of finality, his gaze meeting yours. Before you could form a coherent thought, a loud knock echoed through the apartment, making you both jump slightly.

“Y/N? I know you’re in there.” The voice outside was unmistakable—Rhys.

Your stomach churned as Bucky’s eyes flicked to the door, his jaw tightening.

“What the hell?” he muttered, standing up, his posture instantly tense.

“Bucky…” you started, but he raised a hand, silencing you with a look.

The knock came again, harder this time, followed by Rhys’ impatient voice. “Come on, Y/N, open the door! Let’s talk.”

Alpine, perched on the coffee table, let out an annoyed hiss, her tail flicking sharply as if she shared Bucky’s distaste for the situation. Bucky moved toward the door with deliberate steps, glancing briefly at the bedroom where Sam, Steve, and Nat were undoubtedly eavesdropping.

“Stay here,” Bucky instructed, his voice low and commanding. You watched as he reached for the door, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring.

The door creaked open, revealing Rhys standing in the dim hallway, his expression a mix of desperation and annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was dangerously quiet, but the threat beneath it was clear.

Rhys crossed his arms, his gaze darting past Bucky into the apartment. “I’m here to talk to Y/N. This is between me and her, so if you don’t mind…”

“Oh, I mind,” Bucky shot back, stepping further into the doorway, blocking your view. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“You don’t speak for her,” Rhys snapped, his voice rising. “Y/N!” he shouted, his voice cracking with frustration. “You can’t avoid me forever!”

The tension in the room was palpable, and you stood frozen, torn between staying put and stepping in. But before you could decide, Rhys’ voice dropped, and the words that followed sent a chill down your spine.

“I know what you’re hiding.”

Bucky’s entire body stiffened, his hand tightening on the edge of the door. His head tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the shift in his demeanor. The calm before the storm.

“Excuse me?” Bucky’s voice was low, deadly.

Rhys scoffed, his tone dripping with false confidence, voice low while glancing shortly at you. “Don’t play dumb. I know about the Emporium. And I know about you.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs, your breath catching as Rhys’ words hung in the air like a grenade waiting to explode. Alpine let out a sharp, warning hiss, her tail flicking wildly.

“Y/N,” Bucky called over his shoulder, his voice steady but laced with coldness that made your blood run cold. “Go to my room.”

“What? Why—”

“Now.”

The finality in his tone left no room for argument, and with a wobble in your step and the slight haze of alcohol still clouding your mind, you retreated into the hallway. 

You staggered slightly, catching yourself on the wall as your eyes darted toward the only other door in sight: Bucky’s bedroom. Your curiosity—or perhaps your drunken instincts—propelled you forward. You weren’t sure why, but something about the tension in Bucky’s voice and the way he’d so urgently told you to leave made your heart pound faster.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as you approached the door, your hand reaching out hesitantly toward the doorknob. You heard a faint shuffle from behind it—too faint for you to process fully in your current state—but enough to make you pause. Your fingers hovered above the cool metal, trembling slightly.

The voices from the other room grew louder for a moment before falling eerily silent, the tension almost palpable even through the walls. Your breath hitched as you gripped the doorknob tighter, the faintest click of the mechanism echoing in the stillness of the hallway.

The door began to give under your push.

Inside, Steve, Sam, and Nat froze mid-whisper, their eyes darting toward the door as it inched open.

tags: @winchestert101 @lomlbuckybarnes @lveegsoi @itsshellzy @almosttoopizza

@aami98 @hextech-bros @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917 @infqnitysblog

@ayayaeyato @blackbirdwitch22 @mostlymarvelgirl @bohoooitsme @crdgn

@yiiiikesmish @jae0515 @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @nikey-no-likey @aami98

@almosttoopizza @wisteriaandwafers @yiiiikesmish @marvelavengerspovs1 @xunquish-blog

@ppbhquinn @ziawbarnes @scott-loki-barnes @let-it-sn0o0ow @seven0714

@lostinspace33 @clockworkballerina @bonnie-bun

[holopossums]

I guess I never really officially showed off all of my Rise OCs I've thought up of so far, huh? Some don't have full body designs yet but that's okay. Here we gooo!

Dallas Walker

Human, cis bi man, he/him, 44 years old in the apocalypse timeline (born in 2000). He is mixed east Asian, of Vietnamese and White descent.

Dallas is Krow's/Casey Jr.'s biological father. He went M.I.A. shortly after Krow was conceived, so he was unable to be a father to Krow and husband to Kora (Cassandra). Dallas has somehow survived and is still kickin' it in 2044, just not in NYC. If you poke and prod enough, he may tell you what happened from 2026 to 2044. Though in his words, "It ain't pretty."

Dallas is a former Resistance soldier and a self-proclaimed bad boy. He is bold and takes risks in battle. He is surprisingly social given his lone wolf look, and tends to come off as a nonchalant slacker. Underneath his cool guy persona, he is a sweet and caring man who is fiercely loyal to those he considers worthy.

He does not have any mystical powers, and instead he typically likes to use non-tech weaponry. He is a chain smoker and has some disabilities from the war.

Voice claim: Troy Baker (sort of like Joel in The Last of Us games except imagine a Brooklyn accent instead of a Texan one)

Theme song: Time - Hootie & The Blowfish

----------

Cedrus Draxum

Sheep Yokai, cis gay man, he/him, 653 years old at the start of the series (2018).

Cedrus is Baron Draxum's older brother. He is a politician and is a lead speaker of The Order of Mystica Praesidia. The Order is an elite guard within the Radiant Souls AU that serves as protectors of the Hidden City as well as liaisons between the government and citizens.

He is typically a very calm, mature individual with a warm, welcoming presence. He is a natural leader with a traditional mindset. Cedrus takes great pride in his work, though he is very concerned about honor and social status. Being the eldest Draxum, Cedrus is a perfectionist and often mothers his younger siblings. While he is stern and tries to cover any flaws as best as he can, like his brother he is quirky and a bit dysfunctional.

While warm and welcoming on the surface, Cedrus has been known to use his skills in interpersonal relations, speech, and persuasion, as well as his political/social power, to manipulate others into doing what he wants or orchestrate situations. He views everything he does as for the good of others and a means to an end. Cedrus sees himself above that of a common, dishonest politician who blatantly lies, but those who know him well might disagree.

Currently (as of 2018), Cedrus finds himself bored with his wealth and power, which might lead to some interesting developments. He has considered leaving his job and living a simpler, cleaner life, possibly running away to the surface world. His plan on how to do this, however, may be flawed.

He has a powerful mystic ability to grow trees and manipulate wood. It is rumored that he can create a house within a day, something he neither confirms nor denies.

Voice claim: George Sanders (Shere Khan from Disney's The Jungle Book), Thurl Ravenscroft for singing (Tony the Tiger and singing voice of You're a Mean One Mr. Grinch)

Theme song: Frozen Pines - Lord Huron

----------

Leporyx Lagolune

Jackalope Yokai, enby sapphic, they/them, 540 years old at the start of the series (2018).

Leporyx works in the same elite guard as the Draxums as the Defense Commissioner of Historical Sites. Their job is to maintain barriers and security around important historical and sacred sites in the Hidden City, such as the Crying Titan. They are Baron Draxum's colleague, and they share a mutual hatred of each other.

Leporyx is a witch and alchemist who is known for being talented and highly secretive. They keep out of the public eye as much as possible and seem reclusive. They are a serious and hardworking individual with firm ideas on the way things should be or the way things should work. Leporyx is slightly emotionally closed off and is often blunt or dry-witted. However, they are not cruel and practice kindness. At times they are even quite caring and protective, managing to get along with most kind people. They probably need to take a day off, learn how to have fun, and open up more.

They have a goal to create the Elixir of Life, a legendary substance said to give the user immortality. For what reason they are trying to create the elixir and how they will accomplish it remains unclear.

Leporyx's mystic powers are related to the moon. They wield a giant hammer called Moonhammer which is powered by moonlight. Considering that down in the Hidden City they receive no moonlight, Leporyx has to rely on other spells most of the time.

Voice claim: Wendy Powell (voice of Envy from Fullmetal Alchemist and Phyllis from Ancient Magus' Bride)

Theme song: Moonlight Sonata - Beethoven, Tina Guo

----------

Murdina

Kelpie Yokai, enby lesbian, she/her, 487 years old at the start of the series (2018).

She is a slim bipedal teal horse with a shark-like tail and a wooden-like horn on her forehead. She has sparkly scales and long jet black hair that is always covered in algae. She typically dresses like she is a Celtic bog witch.

Murdina is a dear friend of Leporyx's and, unbeknownst to her, Leporyx's crush. She is ill with a mysterious mystical disease which prevents her from living the way she wants to.

Despite her name sounding like the word "Murder", Murdina is very kind, quiet, and soft-spoken. She is often whispery, sort of like Fluttershy, partly due to shyness and partly due to feeling weak. She is often confined to her bed or the care center that she is staying in, and usually needs mobility aids like a cane, walker, or wheelchair to get around.

She has a love of the ocean and the oceanic body of water within the cavern of the Hidden City. She enjoys collecting shells, sea glass, and other such things. In her youth she was an avid surfer and swimmer. She has a few mermaid friends who enjoy visiting her and giving her little gifts.

Murdina does have mystic powers related to water and mud, but her powers have become too weak to use much.

Voice claim: Helen Shaver (Little Foot's Mother in The Land Before Time)

Theme song: The Bog Bodies (Dorm Demo) - Rabbitology

----------

Selene (Relatively new OC!)

Pegasus-taur Yokai, cis bi woman (formerly thought she was straight), she/her, 570 years old at the start of the series (2018).

She is a white centaur-like horse with giant feathered wings on the back of her lower half. She loves crop tops and gold jewelry.

Selene is Cedrus' ex-wife. They divorced due to Cedrus finally realizing he was mlm and couldn't be sexually attracted to her like he wished he could be, so they stayed on amicable terms. Cedrus still regards her as one of his best friends outside of his political sphere, and Selene also regards him as one of her best guy friends.

Selene has a kindhearted, well-meaning white suburban mom vibe to her. While nice, she may have a limited understanding of certain perspectives. She is known for her beauty and elegance. Selene is feminine and loves shopping, indulging in girly things, and thinking about romances. She appreciates the finer things in life and has expensive tastes. When they were still married, Cedrus was all too willing to indulge her. Fancy restaurants, wine tasting, going to concerts, shopping for pretty diamond necklaces... you get the idea.

She worries often about being seen as old, so she tries to stay hip with it by sometimes talking like she's a teen instead of a mature woman, much to others' chagrin. She invests a lot in things like anti-aging skin creams, makeup, and buys into a lot of health beauty scams. She'd be the sort of mom to be on TikTok.

Voice claim: Julia Louis-Dreyfus (Laurel Lightfoot from Onward and Elaine from Seinfeld)

Theme song: Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray

----------

Esther (Relatively new OC!)

Hamster mutant, cis bi woman, she/her, 17 years old at the start of the series (2018), 34 years old when she gets introduced to Krow and the Hamato in the fixed future timeline way later (2035).

Friend and eventual love interest for both Krow and Yukito later on when they're all in their 30s.

Esther is your typical cute bookworm. She was once human and was mutated when she was 21 from a stray Oozesquito, which despite the Mad Dogs' best efforts have not gone extinct and are still roaming around NYC. She now works in the Mystic Library as a library assistant.

She is a kind, pacifistic, curious soul who loves to learn. She is an average 34 year old nerd: eternally online, loves reading fanfiction and playing video games, and loves anime (especially shojo and slice of life). Esther sometimes worries about being a plain or boring girl, especially after meeting the Hamato. She is often so quiet that sometimes people forget that she's there, but she uses it to her advantage to listen in and soak up information.

Esther's mystic ability is Cheeks of Holding. She has pocket dimensions in her hamster cheeks that she can use to store anything she wants. She is completely chill with her role in any group she's in as being the keeper of items.

A quirk of hers is that she loves wearing weird earrings, and every day she has a new set of funny earrings to wear. (Sort of like Mabel Pines' sweaters or Ms. Frizzle's dresses!)

Voice claim: Kimiko Glenn (known for roles such as Kiff from Kiff, Niffty from Hazbin Hotel, Horse from Centaurworld, and Izzy Moonbow from My Little Pony: A New Generation)

Theme song: HALO HALO - Shawn Wasabi (feat. Chevy)

----------

All of these characters are OCs that I roleplay sometimes! I don't mention them too much because most of their writing and characterization happens in private Discords. But I think they're pretty neat and it's about time I shared them :D

[bellobambino]

Tech Support

Fugitive!Luigi Series Part 4 1607w Action Adventure!

Summary: Luigi, Ben, and Mateo are asked to fix a communications issue between revolutionary groups in different cities. They have the expertise in CS to make it happen. It's selling it, that's the hard part.

Warnings: dialogue

December 6, 2024

The main meeting room smells like something that used to be alive and isn’t anymore. Maybe a rat. Maybe several rats..

It's a converted utility space, big enough for a long metal table, a few chairs, and a single, flickering overhead bulb that’s giving it its best shot. The walls are concrete, cracked in places, and the whole thing looks like it used to be a janitor’s break room before the world started ending. There’s a big dry-erase board on one wall, mostly blank except for a list of names and a crude map of the East Coast.

And across from us, the guys in charge.

There’s three of them, but only one who actually feels like the leader. Big guy, military stance, mid-40s, looks like he’s survived more than one close call. His name’s Darius.

The other two are Victor and Hassan. Victor looks like a construction worker. Broad shouldered, tattoos on his forearms, the kind of guy who probably knows how to use a blowtorch. Hassan’s leaner, quieter, but his eyes give him away. More than likely ex-military, maybe intel. The guy watches people too closely to be anything else.

Finally, Darius exhales, rubs a hand over his face. “Alright,” he says. “Fine. You’re here now. We need people. You stay, you work. You don’t like it, you leave. That simple.”

“Work,” I repeat.

“Yeah. And no offense but you three don’t exactly look like the manual labor type.”

I look at Mateo who looks at Ben who definitely looks offended by that statement.

“We have strengths in other areas.” Mateo throws in.

“Hopefully something we can use. There is one problem we’re trying to find a solution for.” he pauses, “maybe you could help us out.”

Now that gets my attention. I lean forward. “Go on.”

Darius exchanges a glance with Victor to his right, who nods slightly. Then he looks back at us. “We tried to set up communication with NYC a few days ago,” he says. “Didn’t go well. Whatever’s left of the internet… isn’t very safe. They got sloppy with communication and—“

“They got intercepted before they made it across the river. Two guys dead.” Hassan says flatly.

I glance at Mateo. He raises an eyebrow. Ben shifts uncomfortably.

“They must have been listening in,” says Hassan. “Tracking us somehow. We don’t know how deep they’ve got surveillance running, but if we keep trying to send runners, we’re just sending guys on a suicide mission.”

He’s right. Traditional communication methods are useless right now. The internet is barely functional, if at all. Anything digital is either monitored, unreliable, or both.

“So you need a better system,” I say.

Darius nods. “Yeah. Something secure. Something that can’t be intercepted.”

I can finally exhale, because I’ve already got a solution in mind.

Mateo, somehow, is already on the same page. He shifts forward, eyes bright. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Lou?”

“Probably.”

Darius squints. “You wanna let the rest of us in on it?”

I glance at Mateo. Mateo glances at me. Then he gestures, as if to say, go on, man.

I clear my throat.

“A mesh network,” I say. “A self-sustaining, decentralized communication system that doesn’t rely on ISPs, cell towers, or anything we don’t control. We set it up, and it’s ours. Government can’t shut it down, can’t intercept it without serious work. It lets us talk securely across cities, across states, without getting people killed in the process.”

“And you can build it?” Hassan asks.

I nod. “If I have the right hardware.”

“What kind of hardware?”

“Servers.”

Silence. I realize it isn’t ringing a bell.

I clarify, “Fancy computer parts.”

“And where do we get that?”

I'm trying not to smile. I lean forward.

“UPenn,” I say. “The CS department. The server room.”

Mateo lets out a low whistle. Ben blinks. Darius just watches me.

“It might already be looted,” Victor warns.

“Maybe,” I admit. “But if it’s not? We walk in, I pull together everything we need, and we roll out with the start of a functioning network.” Hassan looks at Darius. Darius looks back at him. Then he looks at me.

“…And you know where this server room is?”

I grin.

“Buddy,” I say, “I used to live in there.”

-------------------------------------------------

We take I-95 South, or what’s left of it.

Newark wasn’t exactly thriving, but Philly? Philly looks bad.

Newark at least had some essentials standing, and at least you could say the city blocks were intact structurally. I cannot say the same for Philly. Entire chunks of buildings look like they've had a big bite taken out of them.

There’s something about Philly… some kind of deep, ancestral commitment to destruction that makes the whole city feel like it’s always one bad day away from collapse. Theyre always smashing windows after an Eagles win or loss. There’s a general understanding this city was meant to be broken.

“This place is a fucking war zone,” Ben mutters.

“It’s Philly,” Mateo says. “This is how it’s always been.”

Ben is visibly nervous, again. Rifling through his backpack looking for nothing in particular. He’s got some neurodivergent flavor to him that's soothed by tactile repetition.

i ignore them both and focus on the actual problem—which is finding the resistance headquarters without getting shot on sight.

Because we have no idea where it is.

Newark had an organized leadership. Philly? Philly’s different. Less structure. More scattered factions. More places to die if you show up unannounced. We make it to a dead end. Theres a few symbols spray painted on the sides of buildings i don't recognize. But at least it isn't fascist.

“Alright,” I say, exhaling. “How do we find the guys in charge without getting riddled with bullets?”

Mateo grins. “Easy. We let them find us.”

Ben turns slowly. “What.”

And before anyone can stop him, Mateo leans out of the window and fires off two gunshots into the air.

CRACK. CRACK.

Silence. Then—movement.

---------------------------------------------

We get out of the car. It doesn't take long before someone comes out of the ruins.

He’s tall, maybe 6’5, lean, wearing a patched-up tactical vest and a Sixers hoodie. His rifle’s resting but ready, not quite pointed at us, but close enough.

“Explain why I shouldn’t put a bullet in you.”

I raise my hands. Cool, calm, let’s not die here.

“We’re from Newark. We’re looking for a resistance group.”

The guy snorts. “Which one?”

“We’re looking for the guys who actually get shit done,” I say.

Sixers Hoodie squints. Then—he recognizes something.

Or someone.

“You,” he says, pointing at Mateo. “I’ve seen you before.”

Mateo tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sixers Hoodie looks him over again, then scoffs. “You were the psycho running guns through Camden before all this went to shit, weren’t you?”

Mateo grins wider. “Still am, baby.”

And just like that, the mood shifts.

He doesn't exactly trust us, but Mateo’s recognizable enough that he decided not to kill us immediately. Which is great, because I hate getting shot at. Sixers hoodie has us follow him through a series of office hallways that lead into the center of the building, which is the only part structurally sound.

Inside, it’s a mix of military types, former street guys, and people who just refuse to die. It’s a different vibe than Newark– rougher, more desperate. We shuffle into what seems to be another old meeting room, with mismatched swivel chairs and collapsible tables lining the walls. Each one overflowing with specialized guns and ammo that i hadn't seen available at the Newark base.

One guy, a sandy blonde kid probably my age with a plethora of shitty tattoos– turns around when we come in.

“You guys ever heard of the radio?” Sixers Hoodie leans his rifle against a side table and sits in a metal chair that groans under his weight. “Didn’t tell us you were coming.”

Ben steps in, voice level. “Didn’t have a choice. Radio comms are compromised. Newark tried reaching NYC before. The message got intercepted. People died.”

The two guys share a look.

Mateo continues. “That’s why we’re here. We’re gonna fix it.”

“And you think you can do that?”

“Well,” i interject, “we think we can build something more secure and efficient.”

That gets their attention.

The sandy haired guy sighs and sits down. “You’re talking mesh networking, right?”

I nod. “You know what that is?”

“Enough to know we don’t have the equipment to make it work.”

“Yeah, well. The hardware isn’t exactly lying around. But we know where to get it.”

Sixers, we’ll call him, eyes me. “Where?”

“UPenn.”

That gets actual laughter from the two of them.

“You serious?” The first guy asks. “UPenn’s fucked. That whole area got hit bad. Looters, military sweeps—there’s nothing left.”

I don’t say anything.

Because I know. I know how universities work. I know the kinds of places people forget to check when they’re looting Best Buys and grocery stores.

“We think it's worth it.” Ben says with his chest– trying to sell the idea.

Sixers sighs. “Look, you want to go dig through the ruins, be my guest. But we’re not wasting time on a suicide run.”

I expected that.

But I also know one thing they don’t.

I know server rooms are built to last. They’re locked down and nearly impossible to break into, hidden in basements or behind security doors. And UPenn? They weren’t just running a few computers in a lab– they had real infrastructure, real enterprise-level servers that nobody was thinking about when they started setting cars on fire.

I know it’s there.

I can feel it.

[sussex-newswire]

"When Harry took the stage at the Clinton Global Initiative on Tuesday morning, it was clear just how far he had come as a speaker and a public figure. He paced the stage, TED Talk–style, and used his personal cell phone as a visual aid. He began by discussing the Space Race, using it as an extended metaphor for the unforeseen effects that technology can have on our politics. Compared to the uplifting yet somewhat hesitant speeches he used to give five years ago, the prince was brimming with purpose when talking about Big Tech.

"'Our laws and regulations are different state-to-state, country-to-country—we may have different backgrounds, viewpoints, beliefs, and even access to the internet itself. But the one thing we can universally agree on is the safety of our children,' he said. 'So why, why do the leaders of these insanely powerful social media companies still refuse to change? Why are we holding them to the lowest ethical standards? In any other circumstance, a business would commit all resources to fixing the bug.'

"Unlike the trip to Nigeria or their August trip to Colombia—where Harry and Meghan spent a few days with the country’s vice president and got in a few cultural experiences—the duke’s multiday trip to Manhattan was all business. In under 72 hours, he packed in at least seven events with a handful of his charities, some of which have counted him as a patron for more than a decade. He gave prepared remarks at most of the events, which meant he was switching gears from subjects ranging from youth empowerment to minefields and conflict to the climate impacts of travel to the ongoing HIV/AIDS crisis in Southern Africa at the drop of the hat.

"Rather than focusing on the climate specifically, the trip was an opportunity for Harry to shine a spotlight on the teams that have helped him carry out his grand charitable plans. He was the headliner on Tuesday when the sustainable travel coalition Travalyst, which he founded in 2019, celebrated its fifth anniversary with a panel discussion and cocktail reception.

"On Monday, he celebrated the successes that the HALO Trust has had in demining Angola following the country’s devastating 26-year civil war, work that began with the support of Princess Diana in the final years of her life. He spoke about his 2019 visit to the same former minefield as his mother, in front of an audience that included three of the nonprofit’s current Angolan frontline workers.

...

"In a UN event with King Letsie III and Queen Masenate Mohato Seeiso of Lesotho on Tuesday, Harry explained why he is interested in talking about a range of issues in partnership with a variety of organizations across the world. 'Today we have gathered here in New York, a city known for its diversity and progress and whose example teaches us the importance of inclusion,' he said. 'Diverse perspectives, experiences and voices are crucial if we are going to forge a more equitable world. Partnerships are therefore fundamental to delivering change. Whether we’re addressing the changing climate and its effects on food security, advocating for children’s rights, or tackling the HIV epidemic, we cannot do it alone.'

...

"Harry and Meghan have always been more project-driven than his Windsor family relatives, a quality which was previously met with skepticism and some disdain from the palace staff. 'You can say what you want about Meghan, but she works incredibly hard,' an insider told Vanity Fair’s Katie Nicholl in 2020, months after their royal exit. 'The problem is she and Harry have a tendency to hatch big projects over dinner and expect them to be actioned within days.' It’s now been four years since they started their Archewell Foundation, and in his whirlwind trip, Harry’s charity appearances made the implicit argument that he has a lot to show for his years outside of the palace."

[thr-333]

Ok random question time for the triple divorce au!

Who's the favorite parent for each turtle (if they have one)? Do the turtles prefer to roam NYC or the Hidden City? When did they discover their mystics and with which parent? How did they meet April? What are Big Mama's thoughts about April? Since the turtles live with Big Mama part of the time, do they get cloaking brooches? Does Splinter get a cloaking brooch considering he's in a relationship with her sometimes?

I'll leave it there for this ask but I am fully prepared to send more

Yesssss questions!!!!

The turtles favourite parents:

Leos is Splinter: he’s a total daddy’s boy(his least favorite is Draxum, it’s… complicated with big mama)

Raph is Draxum: he encourages Raphs interest in fighting and never forces him to control his emotions(for better or worse). Raph is also the closest to accepting Draxums philosophy.

Donnie is Big Mama: he’ll fall hook line and sinker for any words of encouragement, affection and attention (she usually means them but absolutely uses it to her advantage when using Donnie to get to Splinter)

Mikey doesn’t have a favorite! He wants everyone to be a big happy family! Hell force it if he has to!

Cloaking broaches:

I actually have a comic planned for how they got them so I won’t explain how in to much detail now. But splinter and the boys each have one. Which allows splinter to continue his acting career and also means they don’t have to live in the sewers. Which is good because hidden city child services already has an eye on them.

Where do they hang out:

It depends on which parent they’re with. With splinter it’s the human world where. They’re homeschooled because home life is too hectic to attend a real one, but they have clubs and stuff they go to.

With Draxum he keeps them soely in the old parts of the hidden city where modernization hasn’t touched(child services made him move out of the evil villain lair if he wanted to keep his right to custody)

With big mama there is a mix. The bounce between the human world and the more modern parts of the hidden city.

As for which they prefer it depends on the turtles. This ask is already long so I’ll leave it for another one!

Mystics:

These were introduced by Draxum early on. Mikey and Leo have the most prowess in it. Raph is more a physical fighter and Donnie prefers his tech(much to Draxums dismay). Big mama also helped them out with their mystic powers but that was more to teach them dirty tricks or ‘improper techniques’ to piss Draxum off.

April!:

They met April in school before splinter had given up on trying to consistently get them there. Along with another kid that I will be introducing later.

Big mama is on the fence about April. She gets the boys out of the house which is good for kidnapping opportunities. But April also encourages them to leave the hotel and the security that’s there. Yet she is useful in… encouraging the boys and splinter(especially splinter) to do things. A bribery if you will. She has her uses and her downsides for big mama it’s all about how you use the people around you.

[glimmeringmeteorspore]

# Leading Moving nyc to san francisco in San Francisco

# Leading Moving nyc to san francisco in San Francisco According to SF Bicycle Coalition - Environmental Benefits (source), choosing the right moving company is crucial for a successful relocation. Our leading moving nyc to san francisco services have established a reputation for excellence in San Francisco. Our Professional Moving Services # Secure Storage Solutions According to KTVU Fox 2 (source), proper storage is essential: - Climate-controlled units - 24/7 security - Flexible terms - Easy access Why San Francisco is a Great Place to Live HomeownershipSF (source) highlights some of San Francisco's best features: - Rich cultural diversity - Thriving food scene - Beautiful parks and outdoor spaces - Proximity to major tech hubs San Francisco's Tech Scene For those moving to San Francisco for tech opportunities, San Francisco 49ers (source) provides information on the city's thriving tech ecosystem: - Major tech companies in the area - Startup incubators and accelerators - Networking events a

[tresources7]

PR Agency New York & PR Firms NYC: Find the Perfect Partner for Your Brand

Did you know a strategic PR campaign can boost your brand’s visibility by over 50% in the competitive NYC market? In a city as fast-paced and media-saturated as New York, public relations is more than just a luxury—it’s essential. Choosing the right PR agency in New York can be the difference between getting noticed or getting lost in the noise. With countless PR firms in NYC, how do you find the perfect fit for your brand? This guide walks you through everything you need to know.

Why New York City PR Agencies Are Unique

New York isn’t just another city—it’s the media capital of the world. That makes PR firms in NYC different from those anywhere else. They must be dynamic, deeply connected, and ready to pivot at a moment’s notice.

The NYC Media Landscape

From major television networks to top-tier online publications, NYC houses some of the world’s most influential media. A great PR agency in New York doesn’t just send out press releases—they know who to send them to, and how to get them read. Strong relationships with editors, reporters, and influencers are crucial.

A Hub for Diverse Industries

From fashion and finance to tech and healthcare, NYC is home to every industry imaginable. The best PR firms NYC offer industry-specific expertise. Whether you're launching a fashion line or introducing fintech innovations, your PR team should understand the language of your field.

The Fast Pace of NYC Business

Things move quickly in New York. A crisis can hit in seconds—and a trending opportunity can vanish just as fast. That’s why you need a PR agency that’s fast, agile, and always a step ahead.

Essential Services Offered by Top PR Firms in NYC

Not all PR agencies are created equal. The best ones offer a comprehensive suite of services tailored to your goals.

Media Relations

This is the bread and butter of any good PR campaign. Top PR firms in NYC craft compelling press releases, develop media pitches, and secure features that elevate your brand’s presence.

Crisis Communications

Even the best businesses run into trouble. A trusted PR agency in New York helps navigate media backlash and protect your reputation with swift, smart crisis management strategies.

Content Creation & Strategy

Good PR isn't just about press coverage—it's about telling your story everywhere. This means blogs, thought leadership articles, and social media content that connects with your audience.

How to Choose the Right PR Agency in New York

Finding the right fit takes time and clarity. Here’s how to do it:

Define Your Goals

Are you looking to boost brand awareness, manage a reputation crisis, or launch a product? Be clear about what you want so your PR team can align with your vision.

Evaluate Industry Experience

Review past campaigns. Do they have experience with similar clients? Look for case studies and testimonials that demonstrate their success in your industry.

Consider Communication & Transparency

The best PR firms NYC don’t just deliver results—they keep you in the loop. Regular updates, performance metrics, and honest communication are non-negotiable.

Budgeting for PR Services in NYC

PR pricing varies. Here’s what to consider:

Common Pricing Models

Retainer: Ongoing monthly support.

Project-Based: Ideal for one-time campaigns or events.

Hourly: For flexible or short-term needs.

Cost Factors

The size of your campaign, the reputation of the firm, and the scope of services all play a role in pricing. Larger firms may cost more but offer broader reach and deeper media ties.

Negotiating Your PR Budget

Be transparent about your budget. A good agency will tailor their services to fit your needs without compromising quality.

Real Success Stories from NYC PR Campaigns

Fashion Startup Breakout: A small fashion label partnered with a leading PR firm and secured coverage in Vogue and Elle, boosting sales by 30%.

Tech App Launch: A startup used a specialized PR agency New York to get features in major tech blogs, skyrocketing their app downloads post-launch.

In a city where everyone’s vying for attention, your brand needs a sharp, experienced PR team. Whether you're a startup or an established business, the right PR firms NYC can transform your visibility, credibility, and growth. Define your goals, vet your options, and choose a PR agency New York businesses trust. Your next big breakthrough could be one campaign away.

[whiskykisses]

Welcome to Boston ALEJNDRO CORTEZ (HE/HIM). We are so glad to have you joining us. You said that you are a 32 year old BARISTA and living here for FIVE YEARS. When people walk pass them, they’re pretty sure they hear DARE by GORILLAZ blasting through their headphones. When you look at them you instantly think of FRESHLY BREWED COFFEE MIXED WITH MARIJUANA, COTTON CANDY KISSES, CHEESY ROMANTIC COMEDIES  but they don’t want you worrying about them. The only thing we can think of is that they remind us of DANNY RAMIREZ.

tw: murder mention, death mention, ptsd mention

alejandro cortez is the oldest of the cortez children.

born and mainly raised in the beautiful land of jalisco, mexico. and by mainly raised, he came to the states at the age of two, his family would frequently visit mexico.

he loved his hometown. to him, it was the most beautiful place on earth. growing up they never hesitated to embrace their culture and spread it as much as possible.

his family was, in alejandro’s eyes, kinda perfect. what he didn’t realize, until it was too late, was how deep his father had involved himself with some pretty shady people. at the age of sixteen, alejandro learned a very hard lesson; the world was a cruel place. the tragedy to strike his family happened one of their visits to mexico. the people their father had been involved with, the ones they had somehow managed to evade for so many years, caught wind of them being in town. in the middle of the night alejandro was awoken because of loud noises going on downstairs. he heard screaming, things crashing, and his instant reaction was to go find his younger sibling. once they secured them, alejandro snuck them out their bedroom window.

they weren’t going to let them go back inside by any means, but alejandro couldn’t stay out here without attempting to help the rest of their family. so, ale went back in. to this day, he regrets ever going back into that house. in the first room was his mother, unalive, in the worst state they had ever seen anything. in the next room, their father and that sight was worse than the one of his mother. as he turned to leave, everything suddenly went black. the next thing he knew he was waking up at the nearest hospital with no idea of what happened to their sibling or the person who committed the crime.

and like most things in this world, life eventually moved on from that tragedy. he found themselves living in and out of family members home who lived in the states. their heart weighed heavy every day as alejandro wondered where his sibling could possibly be, but he didn’t really know how to reach out. as he grew older, he began to grow more detached from the world around him. alejandro still had his friends, but he was known as the silent one. truth was, alejandro couldn’t sleep. they constantly woke up screaming and sweating in the middle of the night, terrified that that one night was repeating all over again. still, he tried. he tried to be normal, to not seem so on edge, and he often turned to a joint or two to relieve some tension.

when he was eighteen he met someone during one of the productions he was helping out with at one of the theatres in NYC. sometimes he daydreamed of what it would be like to be on stage, but he was extremely content being part of the tech crew. one night he stayed behind to work on some light cues and tightening lights on the catwalk when he realized this someone was also having a later night than usual at the theatre. the two got to talking, staying until an odd hour of the night that evening, and the rest was history. alejandro had never been a selfish person, but when this someone told him of a tragedy that had struck their family and how they had to leave to care for his baby sister...ale had never felt more selfish in his life. having faced his own tragedy, not that he had ever told them, he knew he should’ve been more supportive but he really wasn’t, he didn’t want them to leave, didn’t want to back to a life of sleepless nights and detachment. but it happened. they left and although the two did attempt a long distance relationship for a bit...in the end their relationship lasted a little over a year before coming to an inevitable end. now that he’s older, alejandro often looks back to those moments and wishes he had reacted another way or maybe even told them the truth. (WC)

five years ago, alejandro moved to boston, massachusetts. he settled in nicely and even picked up a job as a barista that he has grown to love. he still lacks sleep a lot of the time, but he’s a very kindhearted person. he loves exploring the city he lives in and getting to know new people. he still looks for his sibling but he’s also accepted they might never see each other again, and while that was a hard pill to swallow, he hopes they are thriving in life.

his dog is his life. alejandro adores her with everything he’s got. she has sweaters for the winters, outfits for different holidays, and constantly getting taken to the groomers for some pampering. gracie can be a very friendly dog but she can also be defensive the moment she feels alejandro’s energy off. for the most part, she’s a good baby.

Sexuality: Pansexual

[val-graves]

📌 INTRODUCING: Valerie "Val" Graves

Name: Valerie "Val" Graves

Age / D.O.B.: 33 / February 2, 1992

Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cisfemale, She/Her, Bisexual

Hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada

Affiliation: Civilian, ties to The Syndicate

Job position: Heiress, Maeson Industries

Education: Bachelor's in Business Administration, Master's in Business Administration

Relationship status: Single

Children: None

Positive traits: Clever, Fierce, Self-Reliant, Persistent, Rational

Negative traits: Superficial, Ruthless, Jaded, Fickle, Spiteful

WANTED CONNECTIONS

[FULL BIOGRAPHY]

Valerie’s parents, Lori and Gabriel, Grew up in the rough streets of Las Vegas, bonded by their struggle and hunger for more. Gabe wanted out; Lori thrived in the chaos.

Gabe earned a college scholarship in NYC, planning to leave their past behind. At 16, Lori got pregnant. Gabe, scared and unprepared, ghosted her. He left for New York without a word.

Alone and struggling, Lori gave birth to Valerie on February 2, 1992. She dropped out of school, took low-wage jobs, and used men for survival. She lied to Valerie, claiming her father was dead.

Raised Valerie as a sidekick, not a daughter—forcing her to learn survival tactics young. Val grew up seeing power as something to take, but like her father, she wanted out. She enrolled in community college at 20, angering Lori.

Funded her education by working in a gentlemen’s club, learning manipulation and power. Graduated with two business degrees, became General Manager of the club.

At 32, Valerie learned her father isn’t just alive—he is a billionaire tech mogul. His company, Maeson Industries, specializes in security, surveillance, and under-the-table intelligence work for the rich and powerful. The business has deep criminal ties—blackmail, hacking, and power plays.

Gabe is dying and wants Valerie to inherit his empire. Valerie, uninterested in tech and media, declined but was pressured into overseeing the transition.

As she learns the company’s dark truths, she is learning that walking away isn’t simple—there are threats, enemies, and consequences.

Val is lawyered up, negotiating an escape that will leave her rich, safe, and untangled from the corruption. But getting out alive is the real challenge.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Apple's encryption capitulation

I'm on a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me in NYC on TOMORROW (26 Feb) with JOHN HODGMAN and at PENN STATE THURSDAY (Feb 27). More tour dates here. Mail-order signed copies from LA's Diesel Books.

The UK government has just ordered Apple to secretly compromise its security for every iOS user in the world. Instead, Apple announced it will disable a vital security feature for every UK user. This is a terrible outcome, but it just might be the best one, given the circumstances:

https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cgj54eq4vejo

So let's talk about those circumstances. In 2016, Theresa May's Conservative government passed a law called the "Investigative Powers Act," better known as the "Snooper's Charter":

https://www.snooperscharter.co.uk/

This was a hugely controversial law for many reasons, but most prominent was that it allowed British spy agencies to order tech companies to secretly modify their software to facilitate surveillance. This is alarming in several ways. First, it's hard enough to implement an encryption system without making subtle errors that adversaries can exploit.

Tiny mistakes in encryption systems are leveraged by criminals, foreign spies, griefers, and other bad actors to steal money, lock up our businesses and governments with ransomware, take our data, our intimate images, our health records and worse. The world is already awash in cyberweapons that terrible governments and corporations use to target their adversaries, such as the NSO Group malware that the Saudis used to hack Whatsapp, which let them lure Jamal Khashoggi to his death. The stakes couldn't be higher:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/04/citizen-lab/#nso-group

Encryption protects everything from the software updates for pacemakers and anti-lock braking to population-scale financial transactions and patient records. Deliberately introducing bugs into these systems to allow spies and cops to "break" encryption when they need to is impossible, which doesn't stop governments from demanding it. Notoriously, when former Australian PM Malcolm Turnbull was told that the laws of mathematics decreed that there is no way to make encryption that only stops bad guys but lets in good guys, he replied "The laws of mathematics are very commendable but the only law that applies in Australia is the law of Australia":

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2017/07/australian-pm-calls-end-end-encryption-ban-says-laws-mathematics-dont-apply-down

The risks don't stop with bad actors leveraging new bugs introduced when the "lawful interception" back-doors are inserted. The keys that open these back-doors inevitably circulate widely within spy and police agencies, and eventually – inevitably – they leak. This is called the "keys under doormats" problem: if the police order tech companies to hide the keys to access billions of peoples' data under their doormats, eventually, bad guys will find them there:

https://academic.oup.com/cybersecurity/article/1/1/69/2367066

Again, this isn't a theoretical risk. In 1994, Bill Clinton signed a US law called CALEA that required FBI back-doors for data switches. Most network switches in use today have CALEA back-doors and they have been widely exploited by various bad guys. Most recently, the Chinese military used CALEA backdoors to hack Verizon, AT&T and Lumen:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/10/07/foreseeable-outcomes/#calea

This is the backdrop against which the Snooper's Charter was passed. Parliament stuck its fingers in its ears, covered its eyes, and voted for the damned thing, swearing that it would never result in any of the eminently foreseeable harms they'd been warned of.

Which brings us to today. Two weeks ago, the Washington Post's Joseph Menn broke the story that Apple had received a secret order from the British government, demanding that they install a back-door in the encryption system that protects cloud backups of iOS devices:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/technology/2025/02/07/apple-encryption-backdoor-uk/

Virtually every iOS device in the world regularly backs itself up to Apple's cloud backup service. This is very useful: if your phone or tablet is lost, stolen or damaged, you can recover your backup to a new device in a matter of minutes and get on with your day. It's also very lucrative for Apple, which charges every iOS user a few dollars every month for backup services. The dollar amount here is small, but that sum is multiplied by the very large number of Apple devices, and it rolls in every single month.

Since 2022, Apple has offered its users a feature called "Advanced Data Protection" that employs "end-to-end" encryption (E2EE) for these backups. End-to-end encryption keeps data encrypted between the sender and the receiver, so that the service provider can't see what they're saying to each other. In the case of iCloud backups, this means that while an Apple customer can decrypt their backup data when they access it in the cloud, Apple itself cannot. All Apple can see is that there is an impenetrable blob of user data on one of its servers.

2022 was very late for Apple to have added E2EE to its cloud backups. After all, in 2014, Apple customers suffered a massive iCloud breach when hackers broke into the iCloud backups of hundreds of celebrities, leaking nude photos and other private data, in a breach colloquially called "Celebgate" or "The Fappening":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2014_celebrity_nude_photo_leak

Apple almost rolled out E2EE for iCloud in 2018, but scrapped the plans after Donald Trump's FBI leaned on them:

https://www.reuters.com/article/world/exclusive-apple-dropped-plan-for-encrypting-backups-after-fbi-complained-sour-idUSKBN1ZK1CO/

Better late than never. For three years, Apple customers' backups have been encrypted, at rest, on Apple's servers, their contents fully opaque to everyone except the devices' owners. Enter His Majesty's Government, clutching the Snooper's Charter. As the eminent cryptographer Matthew Green writes, a secret order to compromise the cloud backups of British users is necessarily a secret order to compromise all users' encrypted backups:

https://blog.cryptographyengineering.com/2025/02/23/three-questions-about-apple-encryption-and-the-u-k/

There's no way to roll out a compromised system in the UK that differs from non-British backups without the legion of reverse-engineers and security analysts noticing that something new is happening in Britain and correctly inferring that Apple has been served with a secret "Technical Capability Notice" under the Snooper's Charter:

Even if you imagine that Apple is only being asked only to target users in the U.K., the company would either need to build this capability globally, or it would need to deploy a new version or “zone”1 for U.K. users that would work differently from the version for, say, U.S. users. From a technical perspective, this would be tantamount to admitting that the U.K.’s version is somehow operationally distinct from the U.S. version. That would invite reverse-engineers to ask very pointed questions and the secret would almost certainly be out.

For Apple, the only winning move was not to play. Rather than breaking the security for its iCloud backups worldwide, it simply promised to turn off all security for backups in the UK. If they go through with it, every British iOS user – doctors, lawyers, small and large business, and individuals – will be exposed to incalculable risk from spies and criminals, both organized and petty.

For Green, this is Apple making the best of an impossible conundrum. Apple does have a long and proud history of standing up to governmental demands to compromise its users. Most notably, the FBI ordered Apple to push an encryption-removing update to its phones in 2016, to help it gain access to a device recovered from the bodies of the San Bernardino shooters:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2016/02/eff-support-apple-encryption-battle

But it's worth zooming out here for a moment and considering all the things that led up to Apple facing this demand. By design, Apple's iOS platform blocks users from installing software unless Apple approves it and lists it in the App Store. Apple uses legal protections (such as Section 1201 of the US Digital Millennium Copyright Act and Article 6 of the EUCD, which the UK adopted in 2003 through the Copyright and Related Rights Regulations) to make it a jailable offense to reverse-engineer and bypass these blocks. They also devote substantial technical effort to preventing third parties from reverse-engineering its software and hardware locks. Installing software forbidden by Apple on your own iPhone is thus both illegal and very, very hard.

This means that if Apple removes an app from its App Store, its customers can no longer get that app. When Apple launched this system, they were warned – by the same cohort of experts who warned the UK government about the risks of the Snooper's Charter – that it would turn into an attractive nuisance. If a corporation has the power to compromise billions of users' devices, governments will inevitably order that corporation to do so.

Which is exactly what happened. Apple has already removed all working privacy tools for its Chinese users, purging the Chinese App Store of secure VPN apps, compromising its Chinese cloud backups, and downgrading its Airdrop file-transfer software to help the Chinese state crack down on protesters:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/11/foreseeable-consequences/#airdropped

These are the absolutely foreseeable – and foreseen – outcomes of Apple arrogating total remote control over its customers' devices to itself. If we're going to fault Theresa May's Conservatives for refusing to heed the warnings of the risks introduced by the Snooper's Charter, we should be every bit as critical of Apple for chasing profits at the expense of billions of its customers in the face of warnings that its "curated computing" model would inevitably give rise to the Snooper's Charter and laws like it.

As Pavel Chekov famously wrote: "a phaser on the bridge in act one will always go off by act three." Apple set itself up with the power to override its customers' decisions about the devices it sells them, and then that power was abused in a hundred ways, large and small:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

Of course, there are plenty of third-party apps in the App Store that allow you to make an end-to-end encrypted backup to non-Apple cloud servers, and Apple's onerous App Store payment policies mean that they get to cream off 30% of every dollar you spend with its rivals:

https://www.reddit.com/r/privacy/comments/1iv072y/endtoend_encrypted_alternative_to_icloud_drive/

It's entirely possible to find an end-to-end encrypted backup provider that has no presence in the UK and can tell the UK government to fuck off with its ridiculous back-door demands. For example, Signal has repeatedly promised to pull its personnel and assets out of the UK before it would compromise its encryption:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/05/theyre-still-trying-to-ban-cryptography/

But even if the company that provides your backup is impervious to pressure from HMG, Apple isn't. Apple has the absolute, unchallenged power to decide which apps are in its App Store. Apple has a long history of nuking privacy-preserving and privacy-enhancing apps from its App Store in response to complaints, even petty ones from rival companies like Meta:

https://www.theverge.com/2022/9/29/23378541/the-og-app-instagram-clone-pulled-from-app-store

If they're going to cave into Zuck's demand to facilitate spying on Instagram users, do we really think they'll resist Kier Starmer's demands to remove Signal – and any other app that stands up to the Snooper's Charter – from the App Store?

It goes without saying that the "bad guys" the UK government claims it wants to target will be able to communicate in secret no matter what Apple does here. They can just use an Android phone and sideload a secure messaging app, or register an iPhone in Ireland or any other country and bring it to the UK. The only people who will be harmed by the combination of the British government's reckless disregard for security, and Apple's designs that trade the security of its users for the security of its shareholders are millions of law-abiding Britons, whose most sensitive data will be up for grabs by anyone who hacks their accounts.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/25/sneak-and-peek/#pavel-chekov

Image: Mitch Barrie (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Daytona_Skeleton_AR-15_completed_rifle_%2817551907724%29.jpg

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[under0-0s]

Stark Tower, 200 Park Avenue, Midtown Manhattan, NYC-United States. 18/01/2025 23:47 P.M (listen to the music for an improved reading experience) _____________________________

___________________________________

The workshop had become a crime scene reconstruction in all but name. Scattered across the tables were the remnants of Shade’s deadly masterpieces: a scorched circuit board from a hacked drone, fragments of a synthetic neural net burned beyond recognition, and glass vials containing nanobot residue extracted from a victim’s bloodstream. Tony Stark moved through the room like a ghost, his normally sharp wit replaced by a cold, calculated focus.

The holographic wall before him was alive with data. Crime scene photos floated beside CAD schematics of devices used in the killings. Heatmaps and timestamps were overlaid with surveillance feeds, all connected by glowing blue threads that shifted and updated as new information came in.

J.A.R.V.I.S.’s voice echoed in the silence. “Sir, I’ve processed the autopsy report for Dr. Mercer. The cause of death was mechanical asphyxiation. The drone utilized a custom grappling mechanism to—” Tony cut him off, waving his hand to expand the drone’s design schematics. “I know how it killed her, J.A.R.V.I.S. What I need to know is why that drone could bypass her own security protocols. She built those herself.”

The drone in question was splayed out on one of the workbenches, its outer shell removed to expose its circuitry. Tony picked up a magnifying glass, inspecting the board’s solder points. His gaze sharpened when he noticed something out of place.

“These connections... they’ve been modified,” he muttered. “This wasn’t an after-market hack. This was done during assembly.”

He pulled up a hologram of the drone’s manufacturing log. The drone was supposed to be a prototype, not for public use, and every component was supposed to be accounted for. Yet here it was, implicated in a murder. “J.A.R.V.I.S., cross-reference this serial number with the manufacturer’s inventory. Find out if there are other drones like this one that went missing.”

Seconds later, J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. “Sir, the serial number does not appear in the manufacturer’s official logs. It’s as if this drone was fabricated off the record.” Tony’s jaw tightened. “An inside job, then. Someone got access to their assembly lines.”

He turned back to the holographic wall and zoomed in on another piece of evidence: the melted remains of a server rack from Dr. Aaron Fielding’s lab. The servers had been rigged to overload, sending a lethal electrical discharge through the room. Tony had already reconstructed the event digitally, watching the moment the surge fried Fielding’s security systems before turning on the man himself.

“Run the analysis on the discharge pattern again,” Tony ordered. The hologram shifted, displaying a 3D model of the event. Tiny markers appeared, showing the flow of electricity. Tony stared at the pattern, something about it gnawing at him. “That’s... too controlled,” he muttered. “It’s like they designed the overload to target Fielding specifically, not just the equipment.”

He zoomed in further, focusing on the microscopic residue left behind on the server casing. The forensic team had flagged it as an exotic alloy—rare, expensive, and used primarily in military applications.

“What kind of murderer has access to this level of tech?” Tony mused aloud. “J.A.R.V.I.S., find out who’s been buying this alloy in bulk over the last five years.”

As the AI processed the request, Tony moved to another table, this one holding fragments of a nanobot casing. These were pulled from the bloodstream of Dr. Claire Xu. The nanobots had been designed for precise medical interventions, but someone had reprogrammed them to trigger a fatal chain reaction in her cells.

“Their programming wasn’t overwritten,” Tony said, studying the microscopic etchings on the fragments. “It was replaced entirely. That takes time. And skill.”

He projected a holographic reconstruction of the nanobots’ behavior. They had been introduced into Dr. Xu’s system through an innocuous-looking vial—a fake supplement she’d likely consumed without a second thought. Tony watched the simulation of the bots activating, spreading like wildfire through her body.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., any progress on tracing the origin of those nanobots?”“Yes, sir. The nanobots were part of a limited-run batch produced for clinical trials. The batch was reported stolen six months ago.”

Tony frowned, cross-referencing the theft report with Shade’s timeline. The stolen nanobots lined up perfectly with Xu’s murder, but something still didn’t fit. “Why wait six months to use them?” he muttered. “Shade’s deliberate, but they’re not sloppy. What were they doing with the nanobots all that time?”

He pulled up Shade’s message left at the latest crime scene:

“You build, and you break. I break, and I build. The cycle ends with me.”

Tony read the words over and over, trying to decipher the intent. Shade wasn’t just killing—they were making a point. But what?

His gaze shifted to the holographic timeline of the murders. Each victim had been taken out with precision, their deaths tied to their own inventions. But as he looked closer, he noticed another pattern: a two-week gap between each killing, almost to the hour.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., is there a significance to this timing? Why two weeks?”“Analyzing, sir.”

As Tony waited, his mind raced. He thought about the clues—custom drones, stolen nanobots, hacked systems. Each piece of tech had been turned against its creator, but there was something bigger at play. Shade wasn’t just showing off their skill; they were proving a point.

“Sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. interrupted, “I’ve found a connection. Each victim’s death coincided with the release of a major research paper or patent application in their field.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “They’re not just killing people. They’re trying to kill progress.”

He stood, staring at the wall, piecing it all together. Shade wasn’t some rogue hacker or deranged killer—they were a strategist, dismantling innovation one step at a time. The murders weren’t random; they were part of a larger plan.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., we need to predict their next move,” Tony said, his voice sharp. “Cross-reference every active patent application, research paper, and tech conference scheduled in the next two weeks. Focus on anything tied to AI, robotics, or advanced materials.”

As the AI began its search, Tony turned back to the evidence. Shade had left him a trail, but this wasn’t just a game—it was a war. And if Shade thought they could outsmart Tony Stark, they were about to learn how wrong they were.

Tony Stark's mind whirred with thoughts like a well-oiled machine, but even he could feel the tension of the moment—a case this intricate was like untangling the wires of a self-destructive bomb, with each step taken possibly leading him closer to an irreversible detonation. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the now massive, sprawling map on the holographic wall in front of him, a map not just of the crime scenes, but of an intricate web of people, companies, and criminal syndicates—each thread interconnected in ways too complex to be a simple coincidence.

Shade was not just a hacker, not just a killer. This was a war, one fought in the shadows, with every move calculated to perfection. Tony knew his usual methods of detection and decryption wouldn’t be enough this time. This wasn’t just about finding evidence; it was about understanding the unseen forces at play, the motivations behind the murders, the deeper conspiracy woven throughout. And that meant thinking like a criminal mastermind—a tech-savvy one with a vendetta, but one who also understood the delicate balance between chaos and control.

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving the wall, his mind shifting gears like an engineer meticulously aligning each component of a machine. The pieces clicked into place.

The Murders It had all started with Dr. Mercer. The shock of her death had shaken the tech community, but it was her life's work that had gotten her killed. A leading authority on quantum encryption, she had cracked a code so advanced that it could revolutionize cyber defense—if it was allowed to see the light of day. Tony had dissected the murder forensics already. The drone that had killed her had been expertly hacked, bypassing her most sophisticated security measures. The killer hadn’t just known the technical specifications of her system, they had also understood how her mind worked. Her work was more than just encryption—it was a puzzle, a reflection of her genius. But someone had gone a step further, using it as a tool to erase her from history, as if she never existed.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., pull up Dr. Mercer’s last few communications. Focus on her encrypted files,” Tony murmured. “Something in there will connect the dots.”

“Pulling them up now, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. replied, displaying Dr. Mercer’s encrypted communication logs. As Tony skimmed through them, he noted an unusual pattern. Every file had been accessed remotely, but each access came from a different geographical location. Tony’s mind pieced the puzzle together, and a sudden realization hit him like a jolt of electricity.

"Remote access, multiple locations, but there's a constant pattern of activity—a single entity coordinating these accesses." He stood up, tapping a holographic map of the world. "Whoever this is, they’ve been tracking Mercer’s work long before the murder. They’ve been waiting for the perfect moment."

"Indeed, sir. I’ve also found a link between the IP addresses used in accessing Dr. Mercer’s files and a high-profile contract between Vanguard Industries and Armstrong International," J.A.R.V.I.S. reported.

Tony’s fingers flew over the table. “That’s it. These companies weren’t just competitors—they were the perfect stage for a larger operation. This wasn’t about killing Dr. Mercer—it was about controlling the innovation. Whoever Shade is, they’ve been manipulating the entire landscape of tech research for years. And this was their first public strike.”

The Pattern of the Murders Tony stared at the timeline of the other victims: Dr. Aaron Fielding, Dr. Claire Xu, and several others. Each had their unique contributions to tech, and each had their own invention turned into a weapon of destruction. But Tony was looking for something more—something that connected the victims beyond their brilliance.

He narrowed his focus on the gap between the murders: two weeks, almost exactly, between each death. Each killing tied to the release of a groundbreaking research paper or the unveiling of a major tech breakthrough. It was no coincidence. Shade wasn’t just killing inventors. They were controlling the release of the most significant discoveries in tech history, manipulating the very pace of progress.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., cross-reference the dates of each murder with major tech conferences and patent applications. I want to know if these deaths coincide with the unveiling of anything big."

The AI complied, and a moment later, a surprising result appeared: Each murder had been perfectly timed to coincide with the release of a major patent or announcement from a different tech giant. Not just any patents, though—these were patents for projects on the brink of reshaping the future. Quantum computing, artificial intelligence, neuroprosthetics. But there was something else—each of the patents had involved either Vanguard or Armstrong in some capacity.

"These companies aren’t just on the periphery," Tony muttered, deep in thought. "They're at the core of every major breakthrough. And Shade is systematically eliminating the minds behind them. They’re controlling the flow of the future, and their weapon of choice is murder."

The True Enemy Tony leaned in, zooming in on one specific name that had been recurring across all his investigations: Orion Ventures. This shell company had provided the resources, funding, and materials for both Vanguard and Armstrong. Tony had suspected that something was off about them, but now the truth was becoming clearer: Orion Ventures was acting as the intermediary between the legitimate tech world and the underground criminal syndicates, like Legion. Legion wasn’t just an arms dealer network—it was a resource broker for black-market tech, and their reach extended far deeper than Tony had initially thought.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., trace the financials of Orion Ventures. See who’s been pulling the strings behind it," Tony ordered.

Moments later, J.A.R.V.I.S. displayed the intricate financial web. A series of shell corporations led back to an individual with a surprisingly low profile: Rafael Sorrentino. The name was a whisper in the corridors of both the criminal underworld and the highest echelons of tech—part entrepreneur, part mercenary, Sorrentino had a reputation for being able to make problems disappear. He was the perfect figure to orchestrate this covert war on innovation.

Tony smirked, leaning back. "So this isn’t just some rogue killer, is it? It’s a carefully orchestrated conspiracy, a tech war waged by a criminal mastermind with a network of corrupt corporations and mafia connections. Shade is just a pawn in the game."

But Tony wasn’t done yet. There was still something off about the way the murders had unfolded—something that didn’t add up.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., analyze the nanobot data again. I’ve been thinking…” Tony murmured as he stared at the data on Dr. Claire Xu’s death. “The bots weren’t just designed for a lethal purpose. They were programmed to replicate and adapt. This kind of technology doesn’t just exist on the black market, it’s the product of cutting-edge medical research—research that comes from labs like Fielding’s, Mercer’s, and Xu’s.”

"Indeed, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. "The nanobots found in Dr. Xu’s bloodstream were derived from a patented technology created by Vanguard Industries, but the modification was done with an advanced understanding of bioengineering. The code used to reprogram them could only have come from one source: Rafael Sorrentino himself."

Tony’s eyes widened. "Sorrentino’s the one who's been engineering these tech deaths. He’s been pulling the strings all along. Shade’s not the endgame. Sorrentino’s the one orchestrating the tech murder syndicate, using his pawns to eliminate the tech world’s best and brightest."

Tony stood up, pacing back and forth. "Sorrentino wants to control the flow of technology, not just steal it. He’s eliminating the minds who could stand in his way. But there's one thing he’s underestimated: me."

_____________________________________

To be continued....

_____________________________________

[rappaccini]

regarding gwen's scientist leanings...

(note: i'm looking off of this)

her high scientific aptitude is mostly the default. 11/17 times (14, if you count 65b, 18157 and 26496, who are straight-a students without generalization) gwen's canonically stem-oriented.

[the others: 65a/8, 684, 1610: all punk gwens]

her specialty varies. she's a biochemistry major five times (616, 617, 120703, 1074; we don't know what 6160 studied, but given that she runs a biotech company, it was probably that). she's into engineering and technology three times (3109, 457, 17628). she's a physics student twice (96283; technically 65b). she's a psychiatrist once (21798).

every time gwen's a stated biochem major, she grew up with her mom, and all but 120703 are confirmed to enjoy baking. and little girls, especially in the 1960s, tend to have their first exposure to chemistry through baking with their mothers. maybe that's how she discovered her love of that particular subscience.

even when gwen doesn't end up working as a scientist, she incorporates it into her work and vigilantism: she runs a biotech company (6160). she's a detective who uses forensics to track her leads (617; and the default description for spider-gwen implies that she uses a detective's skillset). she's a psychiatrist whose biochem background would help her prescribe medications for her patients (21798).

the one time gwen makes it to college and doesn't graduate with a degree in a hard science, her usual friend group (harry and flash) are both political science majors who want to work in government. it's never stated if gwen's in their program, and in this timeline, she's being sexually abused by a professor who's usually a science teacher in most continuities, so it's more likely that she was a science major and switched tracks to get away from him. she's not a psychiatrist because she was naturally drawn to the profession. she's one because it's what she was left with, and because it helped her process her trauma. and psychiatry approaches mental health from a neurochemical perspective, so she's still using that scientific background. (21798)

related: all the tech-specific gwens use their skills in robotics and coding to supplement their super-suits and/or assist their teams. and gwen-457 also enjoys baking-- which makes one wonder if these gwens started as biochem specialists, but switched to tech because it was considered more useful.

related: gwen-96283 and gwen-65b are both introduced in physics classrooms. while 96283 sits at the front of the class and is a responsive student, 65b stays quiet in the middle, but only to avoid suspicion; she's smart enough to intuit, with no outside help, that she needs to head to alchemax to find the information and technology necessary to get back to her home dimension, was such a convincing 'intern' that she got past security by walking right in, and can calculate the angles of elaborate jumps in milliseconds. again, we see an instance of gwen's non-biochem specialty driven by pragmatism: a need to get home, and to be a good spider-woman.

and regardless of whether gwens 65a and b liked biochem, they were clearly still good at it, because that's how they were formulating their synthetic webbing.

the same goes for 18157, who shows a strong preference for music, but is a good enough student to attend standard high (which, as the school for nyc's richer students, gwen could only afford on a scholarship), and to nab the school's sole slot in the daily bugle's prestigious internship program. she might not like science, but she's got to be good at it to be where she is.

it's pretty much a given that gwen's a good student by default. sometimes she even goes so far as being a teacher's pet. the only time she's considered a 'bad' student is in 1610 and 18157, where it's for her behavior rather than her grades.

her mother is the engine behind gwen's popularity, and not coincidentally, the only continuity where she was never raised by her mother and still became somewhat popular (17628) is the one where gwen goes to horizon high, a school for teen geniuses, where she's so in her element that she's able to transcend that lack of conventional social graces.

otherwise, though her mother's the one getting gwen into the fanciest schools, gwen's smart enough to get into gifted programs on her own, and often does even when her mother isn't in the picture (65b, 17628, 18157).

so in general, gwen stacy is hard-wired to be interested in and good at science, as well as math. her intelligence is a given; it's whether she's willing to use it in a conventional educational or professional setting that varies.

biochemistry is gwen's specialty, but she's versatile enough to switch to a different one to satisfy her own needs or the needs of the people around her-- for gwen, pragmatism outweighs passion when it comes to what science she sticks with… but even if she can't practice science as a career, she usually finds ways to incorporate it anyway.

(strangely, 65a and 684 are a bit of an outlier in this regard. these gwens are firmly focused on music, seldom use scientific solutions to defeat villains, and feel their way through problems rather than thinking out of them. tbh, i've never liked how THE mainstream spider-gwens are the ones whose intelligence has been largely ignored in favor of physical strength and emotional motivation, by both writers and fandom. even 65b is still ultimately driven by feelings (for the men in her life 😐), and her intelligence is either a plot device to put her in the same situations as miles (visions, alchemax), or framed as ~another thing she has in common with him, omg she’s his soulmate!🙄~ than a trait of her own.

it's just very... hmmm to me that gwen's intelligence and booksmarts, her defining personality trait, was the first thing to get massively downplayed when she got superpowers. i want to say it started as a side effect of gwen-1610 being the blueprint for gwen-65a/the original spider-gwen, but it's stayed gone for a bigger, shittier, more sexist reason.)

[paperstorm]

wanted to add some thoughts / possibly provide clarity on your response to anon about whether adopting jonah is what’s best for him, because i did some research on this and i do think there’s a little more nuance.

so even though enzo was extradited to new york for his hearing, he won’t stay there because there aren’t any fpcs/minimum security prisons in new york, which is where people go for white collar crimes. the closest one to nyc is west virginia but they generally don’t assign them based on convenience for inmates so he could easily end up in like south dakota or florida. regardless, keeping jonah close enough to visit on weekends would not be possible.

elizabeth holmes was charged with multiple counts of wire fraud and conspiracy and got sentenced to 11 years— obviously these aren’t the exact same charges as enzo (his were worse) but i think they make for a good bench mark. if enzo did 11 years, jonah would be 14 when he got out. he might not even remember being with enzo, especially considering he was primarily raised by a nanny. even if enzo got out after five years (although i got the impression he was looking at much more than that), he would have missed some very formative years of jonah’s life. and at that point he’d probably be a pariah, since in the context of 911 universe this would be national news. jonah would go from a stable home with tk and carlos to suddenly very intense conditions, probably under a lot of scrutiny— that’s if enzo doesn’t send him to boarding school after all.

i think adopting jonah would at least ensure he grows up in a stable home with the same people his whole life. any way you slice it he‘s looking at some serious trauma but i do think adopting him permanently would be the least possible trauma. and who knows, maybe enzo will end up in alabama and actually be semi-close.

Interesting ... Oh Elizabeth Holmes that was a fun case to follow haha. It's so hard to say because we really don't have a super clear idea of exactly what Enzo did, right. I need to watch those scenes again, his explanation of believing in a technology and then realizing afterwards that the tech was bogus and then like 'moving money around' so his employees wouldn't lose their jobs, made it sound a lot less bad than what Holmes did which was convince people to invest in technology she actively knew wasn't working because she was the person who made it. Which is all to say that it's probably unlikely he won't get any jail time, but at present it's hard to say exactly how much. Like even in-universe that is a question without an answer, let alone us trying to answer it when we don't really know the details of his fictional crimes.

And yeah it's all based so much at this exact moment in time on stuff that isn't knowable yet, right, like having Jonah live close enough to visit on weekends will become possible, but it isn't possible right now because Enzo hasn't been sentenced yet. The argument could be made that in the meantime, it would be best for Jonah to have him go back to New York too since that's where Enzo is going to be for probably at least a year before a trial actually happens (justice system moves slooooowwwww) but again these are like real-world factors that just are not being considered in this fictional world. If this was real it would be a ton more nuanced than it was portrayed on the show, but of course it's not so it's also silly to hold it to real world standards 😂

[lunarcovehq]

SONG SEO-JOON (LEE JUNHO) IS LOOKING FOR...

Connection: Siblings (1/3)

Suggested Name: Family name is Song, given name UTP

Age Range: UTP

Species: Witch preferably, but could be a vampire or a wolf if they were turned

Suggested FCs: Any Korean fc (including mixed fcs that are half-korean), but some suggestions include- Daniel Henney, Alex Landi, Bae Suzy, Cha Eun-woo, Hwang In-Yeop, Jamie Chung, Lee Do-Hyun, Sang-Heon Lee, Im Jinah/Nana, Kim Se Jeong etc.

Connection Description:

Everyone in the Song family is successful in their own right, except for Seo-Joon. Their family is also incredibly rich. Their grandfather, Song Sang-Hoon, founded King Enterprises, a startup that would become the well-known medical and tech conglomerate it is today, being known for its skincare, cosmetics and medicine with recent interests in hospitality and aviation. 

 His step-mother is a famous model (who either is your character's step mom as well or their biological mother depending on their FC) and the face of King Cosmetics, and his father is a well-known director. Both dominated their social circles and were often far too busy jet setting around the world, speaking at conferences, and acting as prominent witches within the Lunar Cove coven to visit their son growing up in NYC all on his own. 

While his siblings (12 of them- with only 3 being playable), all of varying different ages, managed to find their niches at one point or another. 

I'm super open to determining how your character is successful in their fam- they could have not been the best at school, but now is an up and coming painter. They could be the 'perfect' parent with a seemingly perfect family. They could be an innovative architect who is trying to convince their grandfather to invest in a new line of hotels which they're working to design. They could be a model, a singer, a Soap star etc. Someone on the 30 under 30 list. I'd love for one of the siblings to be a manager of the Hospital or the new manager of K Labs (having taken over Seon-Joon's positiong after Seo-Joon went missing) etc.

Your character was born a witch and their parents weren't the type to put a ton of pressure on them. They were the hands off type and were more than happy to encourage their children to try whatever interested them, even if they often would send a bouquet of flowers to their child’s dance recital rather than appear in person. But, they had never been strict or overbearing and, yet, every single member of the family managed to thrive in some capacity except Seo-Joon.

But, while the parents didn't pressure on them, the siblings would compete between themselves and their parents would give more attention to those who succeeded and those who honed their powers as a witch given that being a witch was well revered in their family.

While your charrie grew up in Lunar Cove, Seo-Joon was raised by nannies in NYC after it became clear that he was the only human in their witch family. They grew up knowing that it wasn't safe for Seo-Joon to be surrounded by so much magic given they were human. The family didn't mean to isolate Seo-Joon. They simply wanted to keep him safe and give him the freedom to be able to travel the world rather than being physically trapped in Lunar Cove, but slowly your characters would be invited more and more of magic related trips while Seo-Joon received a sympathetic look in passing that felt more like an afterthought than he’d care to admit. It was almost as if after his abilities never came in and his grades at school continued to remain mediocre at best, they had given up on expecting anything from him which only seemed to be solidified when it came time for college.

The family bought a building at NYU to secure his place at a university as they did for a few of their other children who didn't make it into Ivy Leagues on their own. But, when Seo-Joon got car crash tw hit by a taxi in the city, his family became worried about his safety wondering if Lunar Cove might actually be safer for him than on his own.

After college, their parents made the decision without Seo-Joon's input that the safest place for him was the Cove where he'd be forced to stay for the rest of his life unless he wanted to risk losing his memories pertaining to magic. Your charrie could leave LC as much as they'd like, traveling around, while Seo-Joon was forced to stay. You watched the joy in your brother's eyes fade as they were given the position as manager at K Labs, despite being far from qualified for it, by their grandfather. His family had only tossed the underfunded research lab his way in an attempt to keep him out of trouble. It wasn’t as if they actually paid any mind to what him or the scientists who worked there were up to. But, by a strand of dumb luck, his team ended up creating one of the most exponential achievements in supernatural research due to his own incompetence.

Only the moment K Labs was turned around, Seo-Joon vanished. You believed he skipped town and would text his phone to get short winded answers. Your charrie could have been worried for his sake or resented him for leaving without a word. Only eight months later, your charrie has learned that he's alive and was kidnapped tw by the Catalyst this entire time.

Seo-Joon also goes by the nickname Song with people he's not close to, but your bby would likely go by their given name around everyone and, likely, would call Seo-Joon by his given name too.

I'd be happy to plot out more about our bbies- was your charrie the sibling who moved into the beach house he was living in before being kidnapped? What was their dynamic like growing up? Were they close? More distant etc.

Please be sure to contact the player before applying:

Becca is available for DMs on @cantfightmoonlight !!