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theresattrpgforthat · 2 months

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do you know any games that would fit a film noir detective style game? especially one with a gilded age or art deco aesthetic

THEME: Film Noir

Hello friend! So I knew of one or two games - but my buddy Sean, well he knows way more. Most of the games on this list are games that he’s introduced me to or knows about. So shout out to Sean!

Noirlandia, by Turtlebun.

Noirlandia is a murder mystery roleplaying game played with an actual cork board. When you first sit down, no one knows the answers.

You'll figure out the way your city ticks—maybe it’s blanketed in white ash, maybe it’s built atop the back of an enormous dying beetle, maybe only a few non-synthetics remain.

Your story follows a group of interconnected characters, a mind-bending case, and the cold stiff that started it all. Roll well, and you'll be allowed to pin new leads to your cork board or string connections between them.

Find the truth, or lose yourself trying. It’s just another day in Noirlandia.

A GM-less game, Noirlandia sets up each of your characters as someone who is connected to the victim - someone who demands justice in a world that has none. The city is created by the players, which tells me that you can decide some details about what the city looks like. The city itself feels like a character in this game - it has defined sections that you build using a deck of cards, each with a distinct personality and a host of slang words.

Because this game is GM-less, everyone gets to participate in the construction of the mystery, from who the victim is, to why their characters are involved. If you like world-building as much as you like following a story, you’ll want to check out Noirlandia.

Urban Jungle, by Sanguine Productions.

The early 20th century of the United States was rife with fantastic change: from the rise of industry giants, to the great experiment of Prohibition, to the tragedy of the Great Depression, onto the dawn of the Atomic Age. The sky was tamed, the world was mapped, and the possibilities of science seemed limitless, all blue skies and buttered toast…

… for some folks, anyway.

A complete game in one volume, URBAN JUNGLE makes you a player in an anthropomorphic world of pulp-adventure, hard-boiled crime, and film noir. You’ll tangle with hardened gangsters, with jaded debutantes, with world-weary veterans, and with all kinds of shady characters.

Urban Jungle uses different sizes of dice to determine your level of skill. Character creation consists of distributing dice amongst your traits, and then choosing from a list of species, types, careers, and personalities. The type and career options open up a wide variety of backgrounds for your characters - you don’t necessarily have to be hard-boiled detectives. You could be a criminal, an artist, a member of the social elite, or a down-to-earth labourer of some kind, just to name a few. As a result, the differences between the characters in Urban Jungle could lead to a rather mis-matched party, so you’ll likely want to talk with your group about what kind of story you’re telling.

Judging by the skills available in this game, you’re likely going to begetting in and out of scrapes, chasing, running, fighting and investigating. You might tussle with the mafia, or hunt down missing artifacts. You might try to get inside a swanky party, or try to win at a game of cards. If what you want is a toolbox to create your own plots with, you might be interested in Urban Jungle.

Junk Noir, by JadeRavens.

Junk Noir is a cooperative, zero-prep, GM-less mystery game for 2 or more players. Players share control of Tracer as the titular robo-sleuth investigates mysteries, visits Locations, meets Characters, finds Clues, and triggers Events. In Junk Noir, you'll dramatize scenes, form connections, make moves, and play to see what happens!

Junk Noir mysteries don't come with pre-written solutions — that's the detective's job! Solving a mystery is about more than just finding clues, since clues are only as good as the theory that connects them. Players connect the dots and discuss theories over the course of an investigation.

This is a game for folks who like generative mysteries, such as Brindlewood Bay or Paranormal Inc. Junk Noir helps you generate clues that you as a group will have to put together, while each player embodies a part of Tracer’s programming. This is also a GM-less mystery game, which means you can all sit down and play with no prep required - the game will guide you as you play it.

Deadlands Noir, by Pinnacle Entertainment.

New Orleans, 1935. Whoever called this “the Big Easy” sure got that one wrong. Things are tough all over. Honest work is hard to find, and even dishonest jobs are getting scarce. The one thing that’s not in short supply is trouble. From shady thugs to crooked cops to Mafia soldiers, there’s plenty of characters out there looking to give an honest Joe a hard time. And that’s not the worst of it.

There are stories going round about things that go bump in the night. Things you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley on a darker night. And those stories aren’t just coming from rummies or saps who read that Epitaph rag.

Still, there are a few heroes left in the concrete jungle. Steely-eyed private dicks, fast-talking grifters, wild-eyed inventors, and shadowy houngans still struggle against the encroaching darkness. With enough moxie—and more than a little luck—they might just be enough to turn the tide.

Deadlands Noir is a pen-and-paper roleplaying game set in the world of Pinnacle Entertainment’s award-winning Deadlands universe. It includes new Edges, Hindrances, and powers, as well as new rules for handling detective work, the state of the Union and the CSA in the Depression-era, a complete Plot Point campaign, and of course, more monsters and ghouls than you can shake a smoking .45 automatic at.

Savage Worlds is a great system for pulp-action and protagonists that are good at what they do. Deadlands Noir is a setting for Savage Worlds, meaning you’ll need the core rulebook in order to use it. The Deadlands setting as a number of books that relate to each-other, including a Weird West and a Hell on Earth setting. This means that this version of Noir includes a supernatural element, and the people behind any big upset could have magical powers. The setting itself is based on the New Orleans that often shows up in popular media, with hauntings and monsters turned up to 11. If you want something paranormal mixed up in your noir, this is the game for you!

Sword Noir 2e, by Sword’s Edge Publishing.

Imagine a barbarian prince embroiled in the criminal underworld of a cosmopolitan city as they seek for an artifact in the shape of a falcon statue. Consider two accomplished thieves—one an urbane duelist and the other a brawny skald—hired by a wealthy retired general to deal with a blackmailer, only uncover multiple murders tied to the general’s children. Envision hardboiled crime fiction in the worlds of sword & sorcery.

That’s Sword Noir.

The concept of Sword Noir is a combination of hardboiled fiction, the film noir it inspired, and sword & sorcery. The setting is noir while the characters are drawn from sword & sorcery tales. The PCs live in a world filled with injustice and apathy. Treachery and greed dominate and hope is frail. Violence is deadly and fast. The characters are good at what they do. They are specialists. Trust is the most valued of commodities—life is the cheapest. Grim leaders weave labyrinthine plots which entangle innocents. Magic is real and can be powerful, but it takes extreme dedication to learn, extorts a horrible price, and is slow to conjure.Now is the time for your characters to walk down mean streets, drenched in rain, hidden in fog, and unravel mysteries, murders, and villainy.

Sword Noir is probably the biggest step from the original noir trope, placing your characters in a fantasy world, far removed from technology like telephones or sleek cars. However, the corrupted city still lives and breathes here, full of ne’er-do-wells and shady characters. If you want to revel in noir tropes but play with the setting a little, maybe try out Sword Noir 2e.

Noir World, by John Adamus.

WALK THESE STREETS. TELL YOUR STORY. MAKE YOUR MOVIE.

It’s raining. The alleys are as dark as the streets. You’ve entered a world where light and dark mix with gray and the unknown, where your past collides with your present and future, and it’s safe to assume everyone’s out for themselves.

It’s the stuff dreams are made of, it’s the stuff of old movies, classic movies. Great stories.

This is Noir World. And this is your world and your Movie now. Your story is worth telling, even though it’s not going to be pretty. You might not make it out alive, but it’ll be one hell of a ride.

It’s true what they say: the City is full of stories, and not all of them have happy endings.

As a PbtA game, Noir World calls back to Apocalypse World, Monsterhearts, and The Sprawl as sources of inspiration. This means that you’ll be building your setting together, using noir tropes as guides to construct the story you want to tell. If this game is anything like its’ predecessors, the primary thing you’ll be focusing on is relationships; what do your characters mean to each-other, and how do those relationships affect their ability to get what they want?

Fedora Noir, by Less Than Three Games.

In Fedora Noir, you create the story of a flawed private investigator in the style of a film noir. Players take on the roles of the Detective, their Partner, their Flame – and their Hat, the Detective’s sharp mind and inner voice. Together, players explore the Detective’s messy life against the backdrop of a difficult case.

In Fedora Noir, two players share control of the story’s main character: the Detective and the Hat.

The Detective role-plays a private eye on a case, narrating their actions and speech. But here’s the catch – the person role-playing the Detective doesn’t get to say what they think. That’s the Hat’s job. The other two main characters – the Partner and the Flame – provide the Detective with personal relationships. People to care about… or disappoint.

Fedora Noir is a game for exactly four players. It takes the form of a deck of cards, which provide prompts and references to help you navigate the story - great for folks who don’t want to keep track of character sheets. There’s a whole bunch of settings included - and if you want the art deco style, then the New Hudson setting is made for you. Each city comes with a piece of art to set the mood, a list of locations you can choose to visit, and a cast of characters that may be getting involved in the case. You also choose a Case card to represent the Detective’s mission, Actor cards to help you depict what your detective looks like, and a series of chapter cards that will bring you through the narrative beats of a detective novel.

Other Games to Check Out...

Hardboiled, by Fat Goblin Games.

Noire: Elle Est, Elles Sont, by Ursidice.

Nitrate City, by Evil Hat.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #noir #indie ttrpg #detectives #mysteries

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australianwomensnews · 2 months

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Medical research has a major problem: an alarmingly high number of trials are based on fake, fraudulent or misinterpreted data.

Research misconduct sleuths call them “zombie” studies. They look like real research papers but they’re rotten to the core. And when these studies go on to influence clinical guidelines, that is, how patients are treated in hospitals and doctors’ rooms, they can be dangerous.

Professor Ben Mol, head of the Evidence-based Women’s Health Care Research Group at Monash University, is a professional zombie hunter. For years, he has warned that between 20 and 30 per cent of medical trials that inform clinical guidelines aren’t trustworthy.

“I’m surprised by the limited response from people in my field on this issue,” he says. “It’s a topic people don’t want to talk about.”

The peer review process is designed to ensure the validity and quality of findings, but it’s built on the assumption that data is legitimate.

Science relies on an honour system whereby researchers trust that colleagues have actually carried out the trials they describe in papers, and that the resulting data was collected with rigorous attention to detail.

But too often, once findings are queried, researchers can’t defend their conclusions. Figures such as former BMJ editor Richard Smith and Anaesthesia editor John Carlise argue it’s time to assume all papers are flawed or fraudulent until proven otherwise. The trust has run out.

“I think we have been naive for many years on this,” Mol says. “We are the Olympic Games without any doping checks.”

How bad science gets into the clinic

Untrustworthy papers may be the result of scientists misinterpreting their data or deliberately faking or plagiarising their numbers. Many of these “zombie” papers emerge from Egypt, Iran, India and China and usually crop up in lower-quality journals.

The problem gets bad when these poor-quality papers are laundered by systematic reviews or meta-analyses in prestigious journals. These studies aggregate hundreds of papers to produce gold-standard scientific evidence for whether a particular treatment works.

Often papers with dodgy data are excluded from systematic reviews. But many slip through and go on to inform clinical guidelines.

My colleague Liam Mannix has written about an example of this with the hormone progesterone. Official guidelines held that the hormone could reduce the risk of pre-term birth in women with a shortened cervix.

But those guidelines were based on a meta-analysis largely informed by a paper from Egypt that was eventually retracted due to concerns about the underlying data. When this paper was struck from the meta-analysis, the results reversed to suggest progesterone had no preventative effect.

There’s a litany of other examples where discounting dodgy data can fundamentally alter the evidence that shapes clinical guidelines. That’s why, in The Lancet’s clinical journal eClinical Medicine, Mol and his colleagues have reported a new way to weed out bad science before it makes it to the clinic.

Holding back the horde

The new tool is called the Research Integrity in Guidelines and evIDence synthesis (RIGID) framework. It mightn’t sound sexy, but it’s like a barbed-wire fence that can hold back the zombie horde.

The world-first framework lays out a series of steps researchers can take when conducting a meta analysis or writing medical guidelines to exclude dodgy data and untrustworthy findings. It involves two researchers screening articles for red flags.

“You can look at biologically implausible findings like very high success rates of treatments, very big differences between treatments, unfeasible birth weights. You can look at statistical errors,” says Mol.

“You can look at strange features in the data, only using rounded numbers, only using even numbers. There are studies where out of dozens of pairs of numbers, everything is even. That doesn’t happen by chance.”

A panel decides if a paper has a medium to high risk of being untrustworthy. If that’s the case, the RIGID reviewers put their concerns to the paper’s authors. They’re often met with stony silence. If authors cannot address the concerns or provide their raw data, the paper is scrapped from informing guidelines.

The RIGID framework has already been put to use, and the results are shocking.

In 2023, researchers applied RIGID to the International Evidence-based Guidelines for Polycystic Ovary Syndrome (PCOS), a long misunderstood and misdiagnosed syndrome that affects more than 1 in 10 women. As a much maligned condition, it was critical the guidelines were based on the best possible evidence.

In that case, RIGID discounted 45 per cent of papers used to inform the health guidelines.

That’s a shockingly high number. Those potentially untrustworthy papers might have completely skewed the guidelines.

Imagine, Mol says, if it emerged that almost half of the maintenance reports of a major airline were faked? No one would be sitting around waiting for a plane to crash. There would be swift action and the leadership of the airline sacked.

#australia #women's health #medical misogyny #radblr #this feels particularly important with the huge gender data gap in medicine and the cass review's findings of bad research in the UK

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skipppppy · 4 months

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Fyi I’m still drafting the 1920s vintage lesbian detective story in my mind but I’m at an impasse. Because my sleuth is a butch woman I’m trying to figure out how she’d navigate the whole “sexist and homophobic society” situation. I’ve got 2 solutions but i want some perspective

Option 1 has more fake dating/domestic shenanigans and is generally more realistic. Option 2 is more idealistic but she gets to butch it up in public and I think that’s beautiful

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enderianmonarch · 27 days

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hey, quick word of advice for anyone making a mspa inspired reader-command comic, don't just do what the command says.

early homestuck (, jailbreak and problem sleuth) operate under "fuck you" logic.

take problem sleuth for example:

a misguided mspfa artist would decide to render this panel in excruciating detail, but it's kept simple because, hey, the last two adventures weren't anything major, why would this one be any different?

just looking at it, what do you see? okay, if you've read problem sleuth, you know what's really happening in this picture and what's behind it.

but if you took it at face value and just wrote it as is, you would turn up with "a detective is in his office. a gun is sitting on his desk, next to it is a phone. behind it is a window and a chair. there is a safe on the wall." [citation needed]

this hypothetical parallel universe problem sleuth is quickly forgotten about in the history of the person who made it and in mspfa history.

...but nothing in the room works the way you think it would, see that window on the door? it's actually a piece of paper attached to the door, also the door is locked. see that safe? it's fake, and there's a clown painting behind it. that window? it's a portal to another dimension.

and this information isn't given to the audience at first, all they know at first is that this is a detective story, and the description "You are one of the top Problem Sleuths in the city. Solicitations for your service are numerous in quantity. Compensation, adequate. It is a balmy summer evening. You are feeling particularly hard boiled tonight." before the 'what will you do?' prompt.

go and read the first 10 pages of problem sleuth right now, here's a link: (https://www.homestuck.com/problem-sleuth), it's also in the unofficial homestuck collection.

a summary of what you (hopefully) just read: "get the gun" "there is no gun in here (there's a key where the gun was in the artwork)" "get the key" "why? the door isn't locked" "open the door" "you can't" "punch the door" "why would that work? the door's locked" "get the key" "you got the gun".

this is also done to simpler effect in homestuck's intermission: "be spades slick" "you are now hearts boxcars" [sic].

early homestuck had slightly less of this effect done, because of the more story-focused writing homestuck as a whole had, and even ditched the reader commands because of it.

if you want story from the start, just write the comic yourself. if you want reader commands from the start, take a more comedic tone.

when problem sleuth became more complex later on, it was because the logic was starting to layer onto itself, and more named ("named") characters were being added and continued to exist. also hussie is a huge nerd who can keep track of these sort of things.

but back to the main point, don't just do what the reader's command says, the readers are expecting you to do something funny or interesting with your command, if you just do what they say in a simple or uncreative way, they're not going to humor you.

problem sleuth's "puzzles" are bizarre, surreal and abstract at times (best described as "weird"), but they still are puzzles with solutions, BUT, those puzzles' solutions are made by the audience, more like the readers are "breaking" the logic presented to them by the story.

if you have only one solution to a problem, you're better off making an actual game, just writing the story yourself in accordance with the character's arcs, or leaving it up to a poll.

-a guy who has written exactly one mspfa and barely reads them anymore.

#ramblings #rant post #homestuck #problem sleuth #mspfa

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nessatwene-art · 30 days

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The Poten Project: Prime (TPP: Prime or just Prime) is the prequel to TPP. It follows Emilia (Lucas's mother) as a young adult and leader of special division squad in the Unnatural Hunter Association known as "The Poten Project"

The original poten project was collaborative effort between The Union Institute and the UHA, putting highly skilled potens at the forefront of action between the battle of humans and the highest and most dangerous tiers of Unnaturals.

(left to right) Emilia, Gadiel, Jay, Lottie, Damien, Eira

Prime takes the course of several years as Emilia and her team take on missions and fight unnaturals up until Emilia suddenly goes missing 4 years prior to the beginning of tpp proper.

Through it seemed that the creator of tpp had alternative motives. During the Series Emilia and her team develop a condition known as "over saturation." They possess an extremely higher number of unnatural energy in their bodies compare to the average person. Making the team unique for their unbeatable strength and the way their eyes glow during battle.

but all the power comes with a consequence.

An unnatural attacked the Union Institute, the scientists and UHA were baffled to find out it was not just any monster, but actually Emilia engulfed in an unnatural-like form, completely unaware of the havoc she was wreaking on the laboratory.

Unnaturalfication... the phenomenon of a human growing an unnatural core caused by the over saturation, resulting in experiencing a variety of symptoms.

Stage 1: Eye color change, energy veins appearing around the body, boost in power. Stage 2: Pain, Exhaustion, faintness, lost in consciousness. And stage 3, ultimately taking on a monstrous form. The poten becomes unstable while they succumb to their unnatural instincts until they have the will power to overcome it.

Throughout the series, Emilia deals with the anxiety of not just her and team experiencing unnaturalfication, but her son as well, who has been showing symptoms and gained abilities from a very young age. Her husband, Nick, a research scientist at The Union Institute, works to find a solution as Emilia works to sleuth out who or what could be behind this.

Prime is meant to be a more mature series compared to tpp so I have an avenue to explore adult themes and some of the plot the informs tpp later on. but I also really enjoy these characters and thought a prequel series would be a great way to explore them further.

#the poten project #tpp story time #tpp:prime #writing #also lowkey imagine this being a interesting game lol

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squadrah · 4 months

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La Squadra in detective fiction

Giving a variety of flavors for each, I've been absorbing Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie stuff like a sponge lately.

RISOTTO

As a detective: One of those grimy hard-boiled types who has to get his hands dirty in more ways than one to get his evidence, though when it comes to obtaining information, his intimidating stature and demeanor get results very quickly. When he makes his interest in the case known, only the most hardened culprits stand a chance of not keeling over from heartburn on the spot, leading to fast results.

As a mere suspect: Interrogating him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He's not very observant or judgmental in general, so unless he had a grudge, it's difficult to get his opinion on anything or anyone, and his taciturn nature compels him to stay quiet if he thinks that what he knows can't possibly have any bearing on the case. He's mostly right there because he spends too much time in his own head.

As the culprit: Too obvious, say the sleuths, especially if the murder was violent, so he's often taken up and dismissed with the feeling that his being the solution sounds too easy. It would take spending time with him to realize that he has a very smooth touch and doesn't need his brutal strength to get the job done, though that depends on the victim. Would only do premeditated murder born out of a grudge.

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FORMAGGIO

As a detective: He's one of those street-smart freelancers around town who can't resist a fun challenge when they have nothing else to do, especially if there is some tangible incentive (money or sex will get him every time). He knows a lot of ruffians about who may help him in the investigation as a favor, and gets a kick out of bullying the culprits while he figures out what authority to pawn them off on.

As a mere suspect: Unless he really liked the victim, he will not take the case seriously and may end up throwing unnecessary suspicion on himself by making tasteless jokes and sounding rather careless about it all. When his past comes under scrutiny, he will either come up perfectly harmless or having engaged in something petty that complicates the case, but had nothing to do with the actual murder.

As the culprit: He can live down a lot of things, so only monetary gain could truly induce him to take a life. He's quick and dexterous (think him tossing that tiny car into his victim's drink in the anime) and would probably add poison to the victim's drink, reasoning rightly that nobody would ever profile him as a poisoner without tangible evidence and the less he interacted with the victim, the better.

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PROSCIUTTO

As a detective: He's the classic type who needs to be propositioned and well compensated throughout, and in return he always gets clean-cut results. He'll consider the clues and employ his powers of deduction for the most part, but at critical junctures, he will expose himself to danger in the knowledge that he's perfectly capable of wrecking his opponents until they are only too glad to be arrested.

As a mere suspect: Probably the most reliable witness on the premises because he'll stick to the point and doesn't care to embellish the details, so he can come across as rather crude. He's just uncanny enough to arouse some doubt initially, but the more other people are interviewed, the more his honesty shines through. He will resent being pestered beyond the first interview, though.

As the culprit: Let's face it, he would murder for any number of reasons, personal or otherwise, and he would keep it very simple with a shot to the head. Being so thorough and technical, he could probably make even a spur of the moment crime seem premeditated, and if he were to commit a premeditated crime, chances are he would never be found out because he knows when to leave it alone.

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PESCI

As a detective: I could picture him as a low-rank police officer who goes to process the crime scene, spots something small or out of place that puzzles him but has been overlooked by others as seemingly irrelevant, and keeps dwelling on that one point until he gets the wind up the investigators and they check on his line, only to solve the case and take the credit because Pesci's too shy to step up.

As a mere suspect: One of the worst mumblers you've ever met, and the more he's questioned, the more flustered he gets until he starts misremembering details. You would have to calm him down and reassure him continuously to get the full story, but it's worth it because he's an excellent observer and tends to eschew speculation or personal opinion in favor of what he's absolutely certain of.

As the culprit: There are two ways he would commit murder - it would either have to be in the heat of the moment, half passion and half accident, or because he had been pushed beyond his limit and something finally snapped inside. He would either panic afterwards and make mistakes, or cover it up with a lot of cold common sense; whichever way it happened, he would only confess if broken down.

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GHIACCIO

As a detective: Every episode would center around his compiling a conspiracy board and ranting to himself like he's Charlie raving to Mac about Pepe Silvia. As he rants and storms we would get brief flashbacks or enactments of whatever event or connection he's dwelling on until the board was complete and the mystery solved; last scene he's beating the shit out of the perp in a parking lot.

As a mere suspect: He's incredibly high-strung and way too loud, and he goes off on such violent tangents that it's hard to keep him to the point, and even then he's too opinionated to be of any real use. He teeters between focused and accurate (if he was invested in some particular detail at the time) and completely unreliable (mostly blinded by anger or overwhelmed just trying to manage himself).

As the culprit: No premeditation about this one; it would honestly stress him too much to plan out anything. If he killed, he would lash out and keep going until he spent his wrath, and then dispose of the body as quickly as possible. He's small and vocal enough that he would probably get overlooked as someone incapable of this much brutality, surely, but his temper would eventually give him away.

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MELONE

As a detective: He's like if Jane Marple was a transmasc scene girl; he'll get involved in a murder and next thing you know he's getting his hair dyed at the local salon and getting every bit of gossip out of the suspects' weed smoking girlfriends, and then typing it all up at a café until he's satisfied in his mind about who did it and how. Will then drop some hints to whoever's in charge and go on his merry way.

As a mere suspect: He cannot stop going on tangents but in quite a different way from Ghiaccio: he usually has some interesting trivia or specialized knowledge to share, and gives the investigators plenty of food for thought. Loves to talk and can be consulted over and over, but he will get more and more abstract as time goes on and share his own theories based on blood type and horoscope, so be careful.

As the culprit: Being an invalid, he would often be treated as frail and incapable, but he has a very calculating mind and decent mobility, so if he decided to murder, he would probably stage a convincing accident to happen somewhere away from him. In a pinch he might resort to weaponizing his medication as poison, hoping that suspicion would fall on someone else with knowledge and access.

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ILLUSO

As a detective: I could see him as an accidental detective/informant - he's nosy and loves to dig up dirt on people, but sometimes this leads to his uncovering something that should have been left well alone, and then he has no choice but to quickly pass all his material over to some competent authority before anyone might come after his snooping ass. Justice is honestly an afterthought for him.

As a mere suspect: He's always pegged as a shady character and rightfully so, but he is surprised and offended every single time it happens. He's somewhat defensive, especially when he gets nervous, but where he feels safe, he will unload a lot of sordid details about the victim and everyone else involved, and insinuates as much as he can. Will then make the investigators swear they didn't hear it from him.

As the culprit: He would prefer to premeditate, not only to indulge in the fantasy of retribution and his own cleverness, but also because it seems safer to have a plan of action. He might stage an accident on the spot and then give a sob story when interrogated, or go with a good old fashioned overdose of whatever, but if he were cornered, he would strike impulsively out of fear, not caring what method he used.

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SORBET

As a detective: This one is a slow and quiet thinker. He will take a gander at the crime scene and address questions to those involved, but seems to involve himself as little as possible on the whole, and thus ends up surprising everyone when he finally divulges his plausible theories and more than plausible solutions, mostly based on first impression, psychology, and focusing on the money motive.

As a mere suspect: He's balefully apathetic and uncooperative, always asking if he could go now, and often insists of having seen and head nothing. Underneath it all, he's either neutral or contemptuous of those involved, or deeply attached to the culprit and boldly, if placidly, covering for them every step of the way. Has very little regard for human life and infinite regard for an inheritance.

As the culprit: One of the few who would have no qualms about choking their victim with their bare hands, and it's always about money one way or another. He would make a very thorough clean-up and face the interrogation in his usual manner, possibly laying the apathy on even thicker than usual. You could only get him with damning evidence, and even then he would never own to it.

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GELATO

As a detective: He would be such a jolly fella, just a funny little guy grinning widely and asking the most uncanny questions, and tapping you on the arm as he made a joke about hanging you based on what you had just told him about your relationship to the victim. Will casually hound the suspect all friendly like, and then cook their goose at the public barbecue for the entire world to marvel at the roast.

As a mere suspect: His degree of familiarity with the authorities would be quite jarring, and he would keep asking questions instead of answering them, not even for the sake of evasion but because he's excited about the crime and wants to hear what the sleuths think. He will appear to know too much without actually knowing anything, and let's face it, he'd probably be the second person to die because of it.

As the culprit: He will do nothing by halves, and if he wants to commit murder, then by damn it will be a freak show with weird props and arson and plenty of red herrings scattered about to keep the investigators on their toes. He would never get away with it simply because everyone's testimonies would line up about what a lethal trickster he is, but he would go down as a sensation and love it.

#jjba #la squadra #risotto nero #formaggio #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #melone #illuso #sorbet #gelato #squadrah original #enjoy a long post at last #i can't say i'm back from hiatus but i finally had some inspiration and decided to go hogwild with it #felt really good to let off some steam

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rata-novus · 1 year

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some thoughts about the newest audio log for sleuthing a solution (spoilers)

so gorrik accidentally inhaled one of the haze samples we collected. i hope this doesn't mean something bad for our favorite bug boy or SO HELP ME. considering how other people exposed to the haze go.... feral for lack of a better term, i'm worried. we have 6 logs to go after this lmao

and when gorrik mentions that after resting when he opened his eyes he saw something that made him feel nauseous. if the commander saw visions of our deceased friends we feel guilt over as being manipulated by the haze/demons, did gorrik.... did gorrik see blish? pls..... no........ 🥺🥺🥺

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #guild wars 2 spoilers #sleuthing a solution

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sgiandubh · 1 year

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Sasnak City - a different view

I will never encourage you enough to read the whole comments' thread of a post you liked. Otherwise, it's blink and you'll miss it, as I almost missed the only feedback of the Sasnak City event we have on this side of the spectrum: @rosfrank's. She graciously agreed to let me repost them and I truly thank her for the kindness.

Her comments were made under two different posts, so I collated them and vetted their content as much as I could, given the unprecedented context of the SAG-AFTRA strike and the scarcity of details. I did not watch the recap on Instagram, because I am not a fan of the format.

I had no idea Sasnak City was a consistent partner of the Camp Encourage for autistic children project. At least since 2020, as a very superficial Google search shows:

...in 2020, with RR...

... in 2022....

What is Camp Encourage?

This:

Do you have any idea of what it is to be the mother of an autistic child? I don't have this honor. I have never been through the stress and the pain of looking for the right solution, for the good therapist. I never had to swallow my impotent tears and fight with the angel, fruitlessly asking myself why did it happen to me.

I can assure you that career, money and the white picket fence house which mortgage you just paid off do not matter. Not when you wait dejected, with your well-garnished checkbook and no hope in sight, until the good doctor will finally see you. Not when your child is a desperately inaccessible fortress. Not when you tell yourself you just can't take it anymore and yet miraculously find out that yes, you eventually can, over and over and over again.

Before judging, you might want to take a moment.

Side note: the man who supposedly is not good with kids interacted with the organizer's autistic son. On stage (try and take an autistic person out of their comfort zone, anyone?). Oh. What an inconvenient truth, again.

Different figures circulate. I think this is pretty close to reality and also to the 'small and personal fan convention format'. Not sure it made anybody rich overnight, after you deduce all the costs - part of proceeds went to the above charity, anyways. Zealots would like more transparency, perhaps. With which moral authority?

Second bone of contention and a particularly unsavory one, at that, the disrespect of the SAG-AFTRA's strike rules:

What was I telling you, the other day?

As for the limbo, I cannot believe no one bothered to look around a bit for confirmation. On Facebook, for example:

They did their due diligence homework. This announcement was posted on July 14, 2023, with a solidarity with the strike hashtag to boot. Propaganda? Hypocrisy? Oh, give me a break. It is legally impeccable.

There you go. No mention of the show anywhere - check. Screened questions - check. Only the SS paraphernalia (pics, etc) supplied - check. Books still ok for autographs (at S's discretion to go ahead or not, which means SAG-AFTRA is ok with, by the way) - check. Make lemonade when life gives you lemons and 'be creative' - check.

Where is the problem? Why certain sleuthing skills suddenly vanish when it's about formulating a balanced, reasonable POV?

Let me guess. It's all about the "go away, ugly socks, your story sucks" syndrome. Oh.

You'd wish, duckies. You'd wish.

I am not these people's lawyer. Playing Atticus Finch completely ceased to interest me sometime around 1998 AD. I even doubt we can stand each other IRL, for reasons. But I am not discussing people, here. I am discussing and debunking a homespun web of self-righteous lies.

Thank you, @rosfrank. Your gesture was generous and very, very brave.

#sag aftra strike

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dizzymilo · 1 year

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Rama Yao 🤝 Taking care of Gorrik

#guild wars 2 #gw2 #gw2 spoilers #eod spoilers #sleuthing a solution spoilers #gw2 rama #gw2 yao #gw2 gorrik

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stefanmikaleson1864 · 3 months

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Fuck Tom and Storms

Requested by: @ten-cent-sleuth

I really hope you enjoy it and like it !!!

Hey! :D If I’m allowed to send more than one emoji, maybe ⚡️, 🐾, and 💪? Ofc they can all be different ficlets if you’d prefer. Or just pick your favourite from those three! :)

(Write for whoever you feel like, seriously!! But if having a specific character would help you focus an idea, maybe Colt or Scola to give ’em some love? ;P)

Colt X Reader

Tom Ryder was the worst name you could ever hear right now and for the rest of your entire life. It was a name most people worshiped but to those who knew him it was a name that made you throw up in disgust.

If it wasn’t one issue it was another and the topic of today’s issue was that the sun was to hot for him to work and he needed to rest in his trailer.

It was like everyone was to afraid to say something. Which you understood to because the second they did they risked loosing their jobs.

But you were the 2nd Asst Director and you were loosing your mind because the main director was out for the day so it all rested on your shoulders. And are you all ready for the worst of it.

There was a giant thunderstorm that was supposed to be coming in and it was a bad one.

The crew was on edge about going home, you couldn’t not get the shot or your would loose the permit to shoot on location.

Colt was looking over at you and he could tell you were about to have a mental breakdown.

The look on your face said that no one dare approach you or they would loose their heads.

So colt walked over carefully and slowly.

It was a like it’s own movie scene where the FBI guy was trying to diffuse a bomb with only seconds left keeping you on the edge of anticipation.

You were currently just staring off into the abyss not really looking at anyone or anything just trying to rack your brain on the best solution.

Which would be A.) Force Tom to come out of his trailer with violence or B.) cancel the whole thing and deal with it later.

Neither one was the ideal situation. It’s like no matter what you picked you knew you were fucked.

You were so into your thoughts you didn’t even notice that Colt had creeped up on you and was currently standing next to you just reading your face with his eyes.

“Hey Pumpkin how you doing” Colt said in a sweet flirty voice

You didn’t even hear him at first, way too invested in your own thoughts to even acknowledge him.

“Muffin of love will you please look at me” Colt said a little louder and shaking you so you would pay attention.

“What” You yelled loudly scared to death.

“Well we have a couple of issues we need to talk about.” He said

You just kind of looked at him dumbfounded like did he come all this way to speak the obvious to you.

He looked at you nervous and like he was deciding on what his next words to you would be

“Alright Pumpkin pie we got news the storm is now closer than ever so we have no choice but to execute.” He said in a soft voice to ease the tension.

You just felt devastated i mean this was supposed to be your chance to shine and show what you could do and of course Tom just had to take it away from you.

You just took the moment to gather yourself and get up and admit defeat. It was hard because you didn’t want to look weak in the moment.

“Come on” Colt said in a soft tone.

You got up from your chair and as you did you began to notice the world around you again. It was getting dark and the thunder had started and everyone began taking shelter.

You immediately looked over at Colt and you could see the worried look on his face. And let me stop you all right there. Colt was not worried about you and everyone's safety like the big bag stuntman he was.

Or the one he pretended to be. He was worried because he was scared of the storms and inside he was a big baby. Though you thought it was really sweet and one of the reasons why you loved him so much.

“Hey it’s gonna be okay let’s go to our trailer” You said.

You grabbed his hand and tried to guide him and then like perfect timing the rain had started. It was like the giant of a man just froze.

“Hey Sugar plum let’s go” You said a little louder trying to get his attention.

He wasn’t moving and it was starting to pick up and get a little worse so you weren’t sure what to do you couldn’t just leave him there scared.

And at this point you weren’t sure what you were thinking but it felt like it was the only thing that was sane enough for you to do.

You bent down and attempted to pick the man up bridal style. Like legit sweep him off his feet.

And yes if you all are wondering it was bad as you imagined. He didn’t even lift up a tiny but nit a half of half inch.

But it did work on getting his attention because he snapped down and looked at you and he broke out in a laugh but also a very confused look.

“May i help you” Was all he could get out in between laughs.

“Yeah you can I’m soaked and i would like to leave before tornado comes up and sweeps me away” You said

He just started laughing and he reached down and picked you up bridal style and he ran to the shared trailer.

He put you back down and you both couldn’t help but just laugh together. You walked over to him and pulled his wet shirt off of him. His abs were to die for and he knew it too.

He walked over to you and he returned the favor. And the he cupped your face with his hands and he kissed you hard.

Then he quickly broke the kiss and he bent down to whisper in your ear

“I was never scared I was helping you” He said.

You backed away and looked offended at him.

“Help me how did that possibly help me” You said in a angrier tone.

“I know you needed the win” He said.

“How did that give me a win” you said.

“You got to be in charge make a choice get some of that energy out you know” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“I made zero decisions besides force you to come inside and we didn’t even get the shoot. Tom that fucker got what he wanted again and he ruinied the day for us and as soon as this storm passes I’m going over there telling him off and forcing him to work late so we can finish.” You yelled.

“There we go that’s what we needed” Colt said.

And as soon as he said that it clicked he knew you just needed to get the anger out and work up the courage.

Colt walked over and gave you a soft smile

“Come on let’s get out of these clothes and lay down” Colt said

And as soon as he said that thunder cracked again and we saw a big flash of lighting. Which honestly made us both Jump.

“Fine but keep it professional we are at work” You said with a cheeky smile.

Colt groaned annoyed really loud and then threw his head down and walked away. You sat for a moment watching him change to a fresh pair of jeans and hey you never said you couldn’t look.

Colt looked over and noticed you were looking

“Hey my eyes are up here remember” He said

“I know I just like show” You said before trotting off and changing.

Colt laid out on the bed and you crawled next to him pulling him on to you so his head was resting on your chest. He wrapped his legs around you.

“It’s okay i got you the big bad thunderstorm won’t get you” You said.

“At least we know your protect me” Colt said laughing.

“For now until the movie is over then your on your own and the Miami Jacket is mine” You said smiling.

“Over my dead body” Colt said in a serious tone.

“What ever pookie we do live in LA” You said smiling.

You were feeling better knowing that at least the day wasn't going to completely ruined and Tom was going to have his Karma.

#colt seavers #colt seavers x reader #colt seavers x you #the fall guy #colt seavers imagine #ryan gosling

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hoiststowline · 3 days

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winter of our youth

[prologue - a03]

phase one

A moment passes, and after a brief stint of time, or so he thinks, his processor reminds him that his joints are starting to ache, a mild pain webbing up through his cables. Excruciatingly so, enough that he can't recall when he even sat himself on the ground, servos fidgeting restlessly against the cool metal of the device. The chair was not as comfortable as he originally assumed, moving the project to the floor however long ago proved a better solution.

He had everything scattered in front of him, for it was easier to see what he was dealing with this way. However, the more he stared at it, the more he moved a particular wire to the left and then played with a small spring between his digits, the more he was starting to lose his sanity. Hunched over on himself, he didn’t like the way his plating shifts, an echo of something more to be desired rings freely.

Another thought passes, harking back on how many Earth days have elapsed since his singular yet memorable interaction with one of its inhabitants. This version of time is lost to him, measures and hours bleed into deteriorating minutes until that gnawing fear crawls back that he isn't going to be successful in this endeavor, at least solo and moving at such a rate. Failure wasn't an option, at least to him, but he wasn't a fool, he knew when things were starting to look like burnout.

Four days. His internal clock sneers, wondering if you had long brushed the encounter off as a drunken nightmare. Perhaps you'd already come to force yourself to believe he'd never dare to contact you again, elated to walk out your door to not find his alt-mode rumbling at the end of your driveway.

It’s not as alarming as he originally thought to find a majority of his lengthy deliberations loitered back to you since that night. You were a missing piece to an equation he was straining to solve, whether he’d like to admit that aloud. He still had so many questions, so much more he wanted to apprehend as if your problems could provide him ripostes.

He understands you were lying candidly about why you were there that night, tearing through the woods like a bat out of hell. You saw something, and it was no figment of a wild imagination.

He'd heard it as well, pulling from his base to try and sleuth out what was puttering and idling amongst the trees. You had a reason to be there, looking for something more, and all you seemed to find was an interaction you'd sooner rather forget.

Magnus finds it difficult to ask for help, even more so when it's from someone he lacks confidence in. You were terrified of him, and while it appeared to settle down towards the end of the evening, it was still an emotion that lingered in your words. But you had stared so intently at the device, small digits running over the machinery as if you knew roughly of it-

"Is there someone you are trying to reach?" It was innocent, your subconscious pushing to have a polite conversation, and Magnus had snuffed your light out with a blatant bout of ignorance. Optimus would likely frown at his brashness, as well shake his helm at Magnus’ retelling of being so benighted. He was intruding on organic territory, the least he could do was be a little more effusive. Not everything was so top secret, nor was it so obstreperously black and white, you earned answers just as much as he did.

It remains obvious that this is no longer a mission he can complete alone, a painful cue. Disgruntled, but he'll still acknowledge that somewhere in his spark, he wanted to check on you, on your health, and to see if your home was still as safe as it was five days ago.

This is unbecoming of him, but he's also at a complete standstill in this task. With a heavy ex-vent, he goes eerily still with the fact that it's the first time he's used his voice box since speaking to you. He's isolated, and while he wasn't positive on how much help you could provide, the conversation would at least prolong the time until he went mad.

The rain had started to fall, coating the air with a faint smell that you could only attribute to a damp autumn day.

Hopeful of beating the storm, you slip on a pair of sneakers that had been tossed by the front door, scooping your car keys off the small wooden table that permanently resided there. Your sense of normal had finally begun to fall back into its routine, happy to enjoy the day off from work and run some errands.

Magnus was the last thing on your mind, even though that night, only ninety-six hours ago, you were wide-eyed in bed, tears rolling freely down your freshly scrubbed cheeks. Just after he had dropped you home, you had hulled yourself away from the front door and all but crawled up the stairs, begging your subliminal to shut up.

Anxious to fall asleep, you wondered if he made it back to the woods okay, and if he’d appear randomly at your door the following morning. You weren't so afraid of him, after much thought, he had your best interest in mind for some otherworldly reason, but you could be the happiest person alive to never cross his path again.

Flipping the lock, your fingers find the cool metal of the knob as you spin it, stepping outside with your back to the street. A hum of some song you can't remember the title of persists on your lips, easily sliding your key into the lock and rotating it to the left. Just as you turn to assess just how heavily the rain has picked up, your heart drops to your feet, your throat constricting as if someone had squeezed the air right out of you.

No. No. Your hands ball into fists to scour your eyes as if doing so would rub the image away. That damn blue truck, idling at the end of your driveway, lights flaring gently at your stare. "y/n-" His voice echoes loudly, firm but cut short.

You're tempted to go back into the house, slam that door, and hide in there until he goes away. But you knew better, and for some ungodly reason, he knew you knew he wouldn't leave until he at least got a word in.

Magnus hardly recognized you, not coated head to toe in mud and dressed in a much cleaner set of clothes. Your hair was not pulled back from your face, slightly unkept by the wind, your eyes conveying all you needed to say without so much as uttering a word.

Temper flared, you stomp down the front steps, brow furrowed and ready to give him a piece of your mind, yet, just as you approach the driver-side door, you are stridently reminded of his size. With an unsatisfied click, the door swings open, just missing your nose as he addresses you carefully.

"I can tell you are unhappy." He deadpans, interior blinking with his words. "And trust, I know you thought the other night would be the last you would see of me. I had planned the same."

"So why," You start, but must take a deep breath in between to compose yourself, rain tickling your face. "Are you here?"

There is a pause as if he doesn't know the answer to your question. Instead, he opts to ignore you, a habit he must know irritates the hell out of you. "Come out of the rain. I will explain myself,"

Against your better judgment, you sigh and yield to his wishes. "Don't make this a habit." Grabbing the handle, you haul yourself onto that first step, moving into the cabin and sliding past the steering wheel to settle into the passenger seat. Just like before, the seatbelt clicks across your waist with a mind of its own.

No gesture goes unnoticed by him, no matter how small, uneasiness radiates from you intensely.

"I would not be here if it was not my last resort." He gravels, door shutting over a little too forcefully for your liking. "Shall I put it this way? The faster you help me, the faster I will leave you alone."

“It isn’t like that.” Why you are vying to make him feel better perturbs you, though you partially blame it on your irritatingly compassionate nature. “All I’m saying, a call first would be nice,”

“Is that a jest?” Magnus rasps, unmoving. “For I have no way to reach you. What would you infer I do?”

You exhale loudly through your nose, arms crossing your chest in a defeated manner. “Can you just…why did you come back here?”

“I require assistance.” He says it as if it’s painful, a string of words that cause a behemoth like him vast injury.

“Elaborate.” You aren’t being all that forthcoming, but neither is he.

“I am referring to the communication device. You know something of it, something that I am missing or a part that you have or can obtain.” In a smaller voice, he continues. “That I cannot.”

You freeze an action that Magnus senses entirely. “Magnus- “

“It may be a matter of life and death.” His engine turns over, the rain begins to pick up as it runs down the windshield. “I hate to deploy such a responsibility upon you, but I am alone. Without that device I cannot contact my allies, meaning I cannot assist them. Your species may be in danger,”

For all you know, he could have made everything up. Bullshitted his way through a lousy speech to tug on your heartstrings, but damn was it working-

“You are asking me to help you fix your walkie-talkie, and then you’ll leave me be?” Magnus’ spark leaps, a small victory he can call a real one. You’re starting to come around, and you are half as tense as you were just four days ago.

“I cannot guarantee-“But he catches himself, starting to ease on the gas pedal to begin down your street. “I cannot ascertain that it will be the end of this relationship, but trust that I will do everything in my power to see that it is the last of it.”

A voice rang in the back of his processor that this was wrong, for he was breaking so many rules that he’d have nowhere to commence when he finally rejoined the Autobots. Somehow, if he got your conviction, then he could prove the same to the others once the time came. You needed to be an collaborator, for it all to be fruitful and rational in his mind.

Trust. He keeps bringing that damn word up as if pestering you with it would cause you to believe he had yours. You suppose you could be a bit kinder; he did save your sorry ass only half a week ago and wasn’t holding it over your head as he rightfully should. Somewhere in your brain, you understood simply that you owed him a lot more than buying him a set of HDMI cables, and maybe if you could repay him this way, it’d end on a more peaceful note.

“S’okay.” Relaxing, numb fingers begin to fiddle together in your lap as your arms fall away from your chest. “I could always use a friend.” You mumble the last part, kept to yourself.

“Are you well versed in building machinery?” Magnus tries to ignore your whisper, moving forward in resolving his problems, yet your downheartedness is a familiar one.

“What? No.” Shaking your head twice, you press onwards. “I assumed you needed me to buy you jumper cables or something.”

“Jumper…cables? You still speak in jests?” Passing a familiar landscape, that faraway feeling of the same fear you felt days ago creeps forward. “You were focused on it the other rotation. You know something that I do not,”

You balk, scoffing a laugh. “Dude, it’s your communication thing. It’s probably technology NASA dreams of.”

“Ultra Magnus." He chides, and the bickering eases some of your nerves. "Or have you already forgotten?”

“No, it’s a term of-er, it’s a friendly term.” That vast forest appears on your right, a lingering reminder that you are fast approaching the foundations of your nightmare. “Sorry, I’ll knock it off. Force of habit.”

“Ah, understood.” He drawls, but you aren’t fully convinced he believes you. “However, you recognized something amongst your transitory overview. You are more intelligent than you realize.”

Concisely, you can indistinctly evoke a memory of that one port in particular that had snatched your attention in your momentary solitude. Still, you couldn’t place which cord exactly went where, nor know if connecting it would turn it on. “I think you’re getting your hopes too high.”

When he doesn’t reply immediately, you add: “Or are delirious in thinking I can help you.”

“I am out of options.” His voice hitches, a grumble of something tilting to break free, but he catches himself. “Perchance you missed the part where I mentioned this was my last resort.”

“No, no. I didn’t forget that.” You’re starting to hate how normal this all feels, though the insanity does not pass by that you’re talking to a fucking car. “I’m not being stubborn, I’m being honest.”

“Good.” You weren’t expecting that, jolting slightly. “It is better that we are honest with each other.”

Sniffling, a sense of apprehension rises in your chest. “Yeah? How so,”

“Your caution is…warranted, though I appreciate your honesty, no matter how brutal it is.” With a sigh, you gather yourself, elbow resting on the armrest with the slightest amount of pressure, an involuntary action on your behalf.

“For some reason,” You start, realizing you are fast approaching the area you had seemingly just left. Swallowing down the round of stale tears that rise to the surface, you push away the memory of whatever was after you, collecting fumbled words to continue. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine nor begin to understand your situation, but I owe you. The least I can do is try to help in any way I can.”

You’re rambling, words stumbling from chapped lips before you can even try to stop them. Magnus listens, intently at that, searching for deceit in your blundered sentences, but finds none. For once, when you meant it, you were being candid. It’s a relief, a step in the right direction, and eases some of his own trepidation about the whole thing.

“Many thanks.” It’s soft, words wrapping you in a hug you didn’t ask for.

Silently the ride continues another six minutes, until he comes to an eased stop, seatbelt pulling backward as the door opens. “Thank you.” You whisper, grabbing the same handle you squeezed goodbye just the other day as the door opens.

With a soft thud, you hit the damp ground, rain letting up momentarily, though it still mists over your clothes sporadically. Taking a few unsteady paces forward, halfway into a step, you hear that same clunking noise that alerts you the truck is no longer behind you.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to that, jumping a bit as you turn, finding his confused stare looking back at you. His head tilts to the right, just enough that he catches himself and rightens his spine.

“Whatever is the matter?” Magnus breathes. “You’ve paled,”

Clammy palms come to slap at your cheeks, coughing awkwardly as a familiar warmth floods to your ears. He might be absolutely frightening, but he’s got a friendliness in his tone that you’ve yet to encounter, a kinder approach than his overreaching personality. You infer it’s because you’ve offered your help, a bit less stubborn than before, and he’s willing to drop a bit of his armor.“What?” You squeak, taking a step backward as he leans forward. “No, I’m fine.”

Standing beneath his shadow, even as he remains crouched on the ground like that, was nauseating still. There is no getting used to it, even as your neck starts to hurt craning it back like that to talk to him.

“Are you certain?” Your feet freeze to the ground, gasping as one of his fingers cups your chin, bent at the knuckle like he had the other day. He’s warm, contrary to what you would have previously thought, heart pounding in your ears as he assesses you with an exasperating amount of restraint. “You look as if you are about to faint, just as you did before.”

Slowly, you peel your palms from your face, fingers settling on his to apply a slight amount of pressure as if to shoo him away. “I feel fine.” Insistent, your voice must do the convincing as your strength was nothing compared to his.

“If, you are sure.” Not pulling back immediately, his touch lingers for a second too long before his digit falls from your skin. “Shall we?” He asks, moving off one knee to stand.

Swallowing thickly, a thought passes by that you feel talking to him is a tad easier when he is a truck. Not trapped under that dense stare, feeling impossibly small, your sarcasm and courage are retained when you can’t see his eyes. You don't think that same bubbling anxiety as you did the first exchange, but wariness still struggles deep within your heart. He's being plain-speaking, being accommodating, and the least you could do is return the favor.

Feasibly, you could take this entire interaction with stride, hoping it would see itself through to the end. If fate had woven your paths for a reason, possibly someday you could look back on this memory fondly, wondering why you were so fretful about it all.

Maybe in a distant future.

“Yeah.” You start, trudging towards the entrance you shouldn’t know. “We shall.”

“One more question,” You turn, not liking how long it takes you to meet his gaze. “What is a walkie-talkie?”

#sul tf writes #transformers idw #transformers #ultra magnus #ultra magnus x reader #first contact au #maccadam #ultra magnus transformers #transformers prime

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