#techno grifters

[odinsblog]

So I’m guessing they can’t fix that giant turd of a piece of junk with an over-the-air update? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Rivians don’t have this problem. Just sayin’

👉🏿 https://fortune.com/2025/03/14/elon-musk-tesla-cybertruck-delivery-halt-owners-complain-of-metal-sides-falling-off/

[odinsblog]

Let us recap all of the major cons & grifts that many “journalist” fanboys inside the Musk Distortion Field™ are always so quick to always eat up without any serious pushback

Full Self Driving (link)

Cyber Truck’s “indestructible” windows (post)

SpaceX Starship debacle (post)

The Dogecoin scam (link)

Boring Tunnel to nowhere scam (link)

The meritorious, “self made man” mythos

And that’s without even addressing the absolute, total shitstorm of a racist cesspool that Elon Musk has turned Twitter into.

Honestly, anyone who buys into his Neuralink scam deserves whatever happens to them if they put that thing anywhere near their body.

Not a single monkey survived the Neuralink experiment. I’ll bet Elmo can’t wait to start torturing and murdering human beings with this.

[hystpod]

Grab your Zip disks, we're partying like it's 1999! Part one (that's right) of our look at a cheap, silly, wildly dated TV movie called MAX KNIGHT: ULTRA SPY has dropped and is free to listen at our Patreon or wherever you get your favorite podcasts!

[blueikeproductions]

So an unexpected lore drop for the Robots in Disguise 2015 cast cropped up.

The Transformers series has an RPG game, though I have no idea if many actually play of it or even know if it.

There’s three books so far.

The third one being the most recent, and a particular surprise that it’s heavily based on Beast Wars, Beast Machines and other series that have included beast characters like both RiDs.

One thing I find funny is the named Maximals are surprisingly small: Optimus Primal, Dinobot, Cheetor, Rattrap, Botanica, Silverbolt and BlackArachnia. The Predacons and Vehicons are much more robust, with Skold from IDW Beast Wars specifically mentioned as a Predacon. Maximal Nyx, as far as I can tell, isn’t mentioned, which is funny because she was treated as IDW BW’s mascot, but was pry the most forgettable character from it. Forgettable to the point she doesn’t appear to be acknowledged here.

What’s most surprising is Beast Machines in general being acknowledged since the struggles between the Maximals and Vehicons aren’t a popular idea to return to. Acknowledging a techno organic Cybertron is almost considered apocryphal to some, but with how increasingly Earth like Cybertron has become in modern stories, perhaps Hasbro is just more accepting of Cybertron’s inevitable evolution into a pseudo organic state.

The book starts out with Cheetor, post Beast Machines, speaking to a human colony on New Earth about the history of the Beast Wars he fought in and other Beast Wars he is aware of such as the events of RotB and RiD01.

Nightshade is listed as a lesser known beast Transformer, and going by the growing apathy towards EarthSpark and it continuing to be a rallying point in grifter spaces, I think that’s gonna remain that way unfortunately. Curiously, as Cheetor is the one that name drops Nightshade, I’m unsure if this is supposed to be the EarthSpark version, or retroactively this is a post BM Maximal version. Going by other chapters that seem to identify characters as belonging to G1/Beast Wars canon, it seems likely this Nightshade is a Maximal rather than a Terran.

Maximal and Predacon biology has never been definitively nailed down before, but this guidebook specifically declares that Maximals and Predacons evolved from Pretender technology and Micromaster technology, something ancillary media suggested before but never set it as hard fact.

The next story features Simacore as part of a Decepticon think tank led by Shockwave, as they discuss what seems to be the modern versions of “Beast Mode” technologies.

Of particular note is what the animal Decepticons in RiD15 are retroactively labeled as: Hybridizors. Hybridizors are apparently a breed of Transformer that has an animal like Robot Mode that converts into a Vehicle Mode. It seems this evokes Fuzors from Beast Wars: Maximals and Predacons who transform into hybrid mutant animals like Silverbolt’s wolf with eagle wings and claws.

Mechanimals are also referenced, a term that’s cropped up in ancillary media that refers to Cybertron’s native fauna: the difference is it now specifically refers to fauna and Transformers who convert from humanoid Robot Modes to robotic Beast Modes like the Dinobots.

With this in mind, we now have two distinct races that make up the RiD15 Decepticons:

Hybridizors: Guys like Steeljaw, Clampdown, Ped, Bisk, Quilfire, Underbite, Scatterspike, Groundpounder, Simacore, RageByte & Springload. While not specified, presumably this also includes Cyclone & Torpedo Mini-Cons.

Mechanimals: Guys like Scowl, Grimlock, Nightstrike, Chop Shop, Filch, Saberhorn, Glowstrike, Scorponok, Scuzzard, Shadow Raker & Zizza.

The crash of the Alchemore is also an event that occurred in this G1/Beast Wars version of events, further solidifying these characters into the general mythos as accounted by Thunderhowl, based on the Cyberverse version funny enough. Thunderhowl does retroactively fit nicely as an RiD15 character, but his defining role in CV is serving Onyx Prime and getting trapped in alien crystals until the end of the Great War. He’s frankly an odd pick as the narrator of the third part of the book, when he’s not a remarkable character and to better fit with the Beast Machines theme, he could’ve been BM Nightscream or TFP Predaking looking at old data trax about Cybertronian history. Just a thought.

What makes the Hybridizor idea most interesting is the writers of the RPG book consulted with RiD15 staff writers to have Steeljaw and company fit in the RPG gameplay. I’m personally excited, since RiD is my favorite series, and getting new lore related to it by the staff is so cool. My only complaint is I kinda wish they thought of this name back then, as it probably would’ve saved a lot of headaches as to what the RiD15 Decepticons are supposed to be. Despite the show making it clear all the animal dudes are naturally occurring species on Cybertron, a lot of fans tended to view them as augmented experiments of Shockwave’s, similar to the Insecticons and Predacons. This does include the Dinobots, but because RiD also states Dinobots are a common reoccurring mechanimal on Cybertron, with RiD Grimlock, Scowl, Velocirazor and Tricerashot examples of this, it makes FoC Grimlock’s Dinobots retroactively bizarre, as why would Shockwave rebuild Grimlock’s unit into Earth Dinosaurs, when Earth Dinosaurs exist on Cybertron anyway? Works if you squint, my actuator.

Still the specific mention of Beast Mode tech does lean pretty heavily into the fan theory Steeljaw and co could’ve been experiments of Shockwave’s, so it’s now officially plausible even though I’m not personally a fan of that idea. Not everything needs to be Shockwave’s fault, I think we learned that the hard way in IDW.

This retroactive labeling is also interesting as the animal Decepticons came about by Hasbro kinda stumbling on it. They didn’t have a clear idea on what RiD’s theme would be so in play testing, they found kids liked to have the Autobot toys fight monster Decepticon looking toys, so that became the defining characteristic.

If you were to go back and rework it to have these Decepticons be a new breed of savage beast and turbo revving machine, equipped with a gimmick like the Energon Ignitors from Bumblebee or the Activator Mini-Cons RiD did use, I think that might’ve helped smooth things over better.

[its-warm-in-here]

Grilled Cheese

In which V and Johnny grill a cheese. 1970 words!

“Grilled cheese.” 

This does not pull V from her feed. She ignores the engram, a practice she was getting pretty good at, and scrolls through the net. Silverhand was getting... a bit too familiar in her skull. Lingering where he wasn’t wanted, interjecting nasty comments about, pretty much, everything. Now, he’s lounged out on her mattress just around the corner, one leg hanging off the bed, fingers tapping to some unheard beat against the plastic frame. V turns the K-Techno song up a notch and clicks to the next page on the feed. Oooh, Panam and Mitch will be in town this weekend, good to know. 

After a moment, he speaks again. “Think you can manage that?” 

Huffing, she pulled away from the net, spinning the chair around, and peered out into the little apartment.  “Manage what?” 

“A grilled cheese,” Johnny asks again, more to the ceiling, than to her. “Even a gonk like you has a hot plate. Bread’s still a thing in NC?”

That makes her short circuit. Who the hell needed a hot plate anymore? She’d just stocked up the vendor in her apartment, there were sandwiches included in her latest package, why the hell would she need a hot plate? And where the hell would she even keep it? The little apartment in Watson wasn’t outfitted with a counter, let alone a kitchen.  “Yeah, it is. But, uh, no. I don’t.” 

Johnny leans around the little wall separating them in disbelief, before glitching in and out of existence to dwell mournfully in the doorway to her computer space. “There’s more use to a hot plate than just cooking V. Its an essential part of any grifter’s apartment. What, next you’ll tell me you don’t have a pan either? Feed me any more of that ‘sashimi’ crap and I’ll puke.” 

Her mouth goes dry. Sure, some folks in Night City knew how to cook. V would kill for a pot of Mama Wells’ pozole, and the jambalaya that River and his sister had served was preem. But cooking was reserved for those in luxury or for those too impoverished to afford the instant foods that Night City had on offer. V was neither. 

Reading her face (and mind), Johnny hung his head, “Sad, V.”

Scowling, she turns back to the screen, “Like you’ve ever cooked a single thing in your fucking life. Probably had your groupies do it. Entitled prick like you probably threw a fit if they got you wheat bread instead of rye.”  V says the words like she knows what they mean. Most of the bread Night City had on offer was the foamy tasting white stuff that either went stale immediately after opening or it lasted wayyy past the expiration date making one wonder if the bread had taken on some form of sentients before it was tossed into the bin. 

“Maybe,” he admits, disappearing from view, then glitching back so he’s partway between V and her screen, “It came with the lifestyle. But even I could handle myself with something this basic. Bread, a smear of butter and slices of pepperjack and sharp cheddar? Cooked over high heat, till the bread’s charred and cheese is molten like a volcano. Hell, mouth’s drooling just thinking about it.” 

And it is. V can't even recall when, if ever, she’d ever had a grilled cheese sandwich, but Johnny sure the hell can. She can almost taste the savory crunch, the stretch of melted cheese on the back of her tongue. Johnny’s mouth turns up at the memory. “You’re not letting this go, are you?” 

He shakes his head, grin taking hold, “It's not like I'm even asking for a smoke this time.” Johnny leans against her desk, getting in close and making her optics fragment. “Come on, V. What do you say?”

---

It's raining in Night City when she finally decides to track this down. The electrically charged sky was grey, blotting out holograms that hung in the air and for once the stench of Dogtown didn't reach her nose. On her way back from a gig from Mr. Hands, V spots a pawn shop sporting a slew of old tech. Most of its junk: tape decks, out of date processing units, instruments that needed to be tuned up, but there's a handful of kitchen gadgets. Finding a glass hot plate with the proper hook up wasn’t too hard and there was even a frying pan for a reasonable price. She hits up Tom’s Diner to bum the rest of the supplies. The ingredients are hardly anything  but he had several types of cheese on hand, so it’ll have to do. 

Shaking the water from her jacket, V shrugs it off, draping it at the entrance of her little apartment, before setting the hot plate up on her coffee table and setting it to medium heat. She then turns to the mirror, stripping off her waterlogged eyeliner before returning to the couch. Johnny was already in his normal spot, one leg crossed over the other, brown eyes hidden behind aviators to hide the judgment in his stare. It didn't work. “Couldn't even spring for the good shit?”

“It's grilled cheese. Not yellowfin tuna,” she fires back, smearing the butter on the almost stale bread. “Now walk me through this.” 

“Never had to cook for yourself?” Johnny muses, leaning forward to observe her amature technique of peeling neon orange cheese from the sleeve of plastic. 

V scowles at him and plops the bread onto the pan with a sizzle. “If I burn this shit, it’ll be your fault.” At that, Johnny scoots closer so he’s leaning over her shoulder. The engram isn't really there, but the hoops her brain jumps through to make sense of another being residing in it certainly makes him feel real. She can feel the air move to make space for the rockerboy, the brush of his chrome shoulder against hers.

“Put three slices on,” he insists, making her unwrap another. “Now the other one.” Following his instructions, she places the other buttered piece atop the cheese.

“Think I'm good to flip it?”

“Don’t rush it,” Johnny says. It shouldn't be this easy to slip into domesticity with the engram, but it feels natural. Like they fit together. He nods at her, she jiggles the pan, freeing the crisped bread from the non-stick surface then uses a wrist flick to knock the sandwich into the air. It hangs there for a moment and for a split second, a burst of panic shoots through her at the thought that it couldn't complete the turn and come crashing back down into a sloppy, burney mess. But the sandwich lands with a satisfying plop. The cooked side is a crispy golden and cheese is starting to melt out the sides. 

“Smells great.” 

There's a swell of pride in her chest at his words. “Don’t say anything till I’m done. Could still burn it.” 

“It’s better burned. Gives it some flavor. Kicks it up a notch.” 

Neither speaks for a moment, she doesn't even bother turning the TV on. Instead opting to observe the bread, just in case it burst into flames. There is a little smoke from the cheese melting but it's not ruined yet. She moved the pan again, making sure it does not stick. V knew very little about cooking, but if this came out alright, maybe it was something she could actually get good at. Using a fork, she lifts to check. 

“Well? Does the curtain match the drapes?” He is always so crass. 

V makes a face. “That does not even make sense. But, yeah, its done.” She slides the bread onto a paper plate before finally relaxing back. The  sandwich is too hot yet and V flicks on the tv. Zoning out. There’s nothing on TV, but it's kind of nice. Just chilling at home, no pressing missions, just waiting on a call from Reed. She curls her legs under her and leans her cheek against the low back of the couch. If Johnny had any real mass to him, she’d be resting against his shoulder. He’s stretched out, one arm slung over the couch, a boot resting on her coffee table as he has a pre-emptive ghost cigarette. There’s no real smoke, but the memory of the nicotine stings her nose. 

After a moment, she slides the paper plate closer, testing the heat with her fingers before biting down into the cheap meal. The bread is crunchy, the char covering any staleness, and the cheese has a salty, funky, melty flavor. Not too bad for her first pass. She hums, satisfied. 

“Any good?” Johnny presses. 

It’ll be a good few minutes before her brain relays the taste to him. She nods, wishing she could just pass him the sandwich. “Not half bad.” She takes another bite, the smell of charred sandwich mixing with the acrid smell of his cigarette. “Ask nicely and maybe I’ll make another some time.” Johnny lets a single laugh resonate in his chest. Damn, she loved that sound. Not that she’d ever tell Johnny that. 

Hell, he probably already knew. 

V is about half way through the meal and Johnny is done with his cigarette, but the smoke smell continues to hang in the air. If anything, it's getting worse. There's a haze. V glances again at the engram, nope, he hadn't lit up another. So where was---?

Above, the holo screens flash red and an alarm blares through the apartment. “FIRE. IMMEDIATELY EXIT THE APARTMENT. FIRE.” The screens show a dramatized version of her little apartment with directions on how to exit with little anime chickens on fire darting around the edges. 

She crushed her palms over her ears, eyes wildly darting around the apartment before landing on the smoldering pan on the still very hot hotplate. The residue of melted cheese and breadcrumbs had transformed into a ball of carbon and smoke, the little plastic fort she’s used in improvised spatula had begun to liquify and seal onto the pan, setting off the oversensitive fire system. “Shit, shit, shit!” Leaping to action, V grabs the pan by the handle, drops it into the bathroom sink and turns on the water. It vaporizes to steam the moment it hits the pan, ruining it, but the water stops it from smoking. If she didn't get this smoke out now, the sprinkler system would trip any second. She punches the button to open the windows and, using the pillow from her bed, she stands on her tiptoes and waves it back and forth, forcing the air to circulate. Johnny’s laughter cuts through the alarms, as he watches her scramble.  Scorn zips through her, but she does not have time to express her contempt. The air is moving through the apartment though, and after minutes of waving her arms like a gonk, the alarm finally turns off and her screens return to their stream of content. She drops back onto the couch, groaning and drapes her forearm over her eyes. V sinks low, catching her breath. 

“Smooth one, V.” 

Before he can add any more to that sentence, she cuts him off with her middle finger. “Not another fucking word, Silverhand.” He keeps his mouth shut and she risks glancing at him. If Johnny didn't look stoic or broody, he was smug. And this is the smuggest she’d ever seen the rockerboy. “What?”

Johnny’s brown eyes go between her and the half eaten grilled cheese on the table. “Gonna finish that?” 

V growles, grabs the sandwich and throws it at him. The bread phases right through, probably making a mess of her couch. He flips her off in turn, laughs then glitches away to some spot at the edge of her brain and out of sight. 

Asshole.  

[deconstructthesoup]

Hi, hi. I saw your post about your OCs and they all seem really cool. Can you talk a little bit more about them? Thanks!

Oh, HELL yeah!

First off: Anastasia (she/her) and Anatole (they/them) Lancaster, a pair of mad scientist twins who each have their own ambitions but are most focused on taking care of their newest creation, Annabelle. Anastasia has figured out how to create souls, and mostly uses it to bring dolls to life, while Anatole is your classic Frankenstein-esque mad scientist---all about bioengineering, genetic mutations, and reanimation. Out of the two twins, Anastasia is definitely the most charming, and since she's absolutely gorgeous and incredibly sweet, she tends to put on an air of being a ditz around people who think less of her, so it's easier for them to trust her. Anatole, on the other hand, is every bit the slightly crazed, amoral workaholic who has a keen disdain for social niceties and a very twisted sense of humor. They're loosely based off of Coronabeth and Ianthe from The Locked Tomb.

The others all exist in the same universe---I'm still figuring out whether or not the Lancasters would get their own story or not---and it's kind of a neon-noir, retro-sci-fi, Amulet meets Nimona meets Starstruck kinda universe. Lots of vintage styles mixed with cyberpunk energy, mythical species like elves and goblins getting reframed as aliens, magic and cool tech and general craziness... you get it.

Ricky (he/they) and Sinead (they/she) Rosario are a pair of Bonnie-and-Clyde type criminals who travel through the galaxy, stealing from rich people and using it to fund their chain of nightclubs. Ricky's the charismatic grifter of the two, whose skills are all based on smooth talking and disguises, while Sinead's more of a classic stealth-and-acrobatics-type thief. They're very much in love with each other, and have a teen daughter named Melissa, aka Missy, who's definitely the hacker type. (Also, Ricky is a deep elf, while Sinead is... okay, I don't have the name for their species figured out, but they're basically a tiefling.)

Stella Drysdale (she/her) is a chaotic butch goblin who's the leader of Reject Radio---a techno-punk band by day, and a gang of thieves who steal from corporations and give back to the people in need by night, kind of like a Leverage situation. While she is the mastermind of the group, she can be more than a little reckless and sure of herself at times, which can lead to the gang getting into sticky situations more often than not. She also happens to be the surrogate daughter of Ricky and Sinead, along with---

Mol Shadowbone (she/her), a catlike alien who was raised in the main church of her planet, worshiping a god of light... until she figured out that she'd much rather be serving the trickster spirits, and jetted out of there with a stolen spaceship. After getting taken in by the Rosarios and immediately becoming lifelong best friends with Stella, Mol learned how to be one of the best cat (heh) burglars the galaxy had ever seen. Not to mention, she's got some pretty sick shadow powers out of her whole deal.

3B (she/her) is a worker robot who used to be one of many bots serving in a factory. But as what sometimes happens when a person isn't ready to die, her body became bonded with the soul of a college student who died in an accident. With very little memories but all of the girl's personality, she ran away from the factory in search of her old life, remembering faintly that she had a deep passion for all things music and theater. And eventually, she got fixed up by---

Noelle Raleigh (she/they), a deep elf with incredibly rich parents who worked in the film industry (her mom was a famous actress and her dad was a big movie exec), and who always had a love for computers and tech---as well as all things bright, fun, and whimsical. When she found 3B, the first thing she did was give her a makeover, as well as fixing her voicebox so she could actually sing, and the two of them soon became best friends. It didn't take long before they met Mol and Stella, and they rounded out the team with---

Jax Furukawa (they/them), a larger, cowlike alien who got a gig as an underground street fighter to help support their very large family. Despite the fact that they're a bit of a grump and has some slight loner tendencies, they've always had the healthiest home life out of every Reject Radio member, and they pretty much radiate big sibling energy. Also, they're dating 3B. It's super cute.

And lastly, our villains of the story are HIRO (he/him), an executive robot who's the CEO of a gigantic corporation, and his on-again, off-again boyfriend Percival Doyle (he/him), a fire elemental-type lawyer whose job essentially boils down to helping the company keep their hands clean. HIRO (whose name stands for Highly Intelligent Robotic Official) was made as a replacement body for the old CEO, but he's fundamentally his own person... though, he still retains his predecessor's utter disregard for anything other than order and profit. And Percival, well... he's just a cutthroat drama queen who's obsessed with power. These two have your stereotypical drama-filled celebrity relationship, consisting of a million breakups and flirtations with other men, but that's really just because they like making each other jealous. They do love each other to death, they're just awful people to everyone else.

[odinsblog]

👉🏿 https://amp.theguardian.com/technology/article/2024/jul/15/elon-musk-trump-super-pac

[hardtruthsfromsoftcats-blog]

I remember reading about Sophia soon after "she" was unveiled. It was like watching some sort of surreal vintage soviet sci-fi --- a humanoid head not unfit to live in Disney World's Hall of Presidents looked grafted on to a circa 2000 Honda Asimo, as if it were a high-tech Sid reject from Toy Story. A cool bit of animatronic work, sure, but by no means intelligent. It was relying on some sort of ancient expert systems technology for its dialogue, its control algorithms were as janky as humanoid robots' control algorithms ever were, and I wouldn't trust it to hold a glass of water let alone something important.

And yet the media loved it.

I was annoyed. It was the highest-profile example of news media parroting a press release as if it were true, with almost no due diligence. Oh haha "hot robot tells SXSW she wants to destroy world," great reporting CNBC. "Robot tells UN she can run world better than them." I will go on record and say that the CEO of this company is a grade-A grifter, that for n years he would push this non-functional product as if its a next-gen organism. His activity in creating crappy humanoid robots is not malpractice, but his existence as a human is malpractice.

Putting a chatbot into a crappy robot does not make it any more human, sentient, or interesting to talk about than the crappy robot by itself or the non-sentient chatbot by itself. It's just three pieces of technology stapled together, with no new capabilities. When you convince a country to give a robot citizenship in some desperate play for relevancy on a world stage, you are wasting everyone's time and attention, and pretending to be doing something profoundly philosophical, when in fact, you quite frankly, are not.

More recently I saw a company claim it has a robot CEO. Oh, does it make better decisions now that it's in a robot body?

Any time you see a story like this, please do me a favor and do not click on these links. Do not give them ad revenue. Those reporting on these stories in 2023 do not deserve credit for filling out niches in this techno-toxic ecosystem. Just assume that everything inside is bullshit, and move on.

Ah crap, I should have said that before I put all the links in here.

Incidentally there is a pseudo-weird weird pattern with making all of these human-like robots women. Don't get me wrong, I want women to keep chipping away at that glass ceiling. I just want it to matter when they do.

[squishyproductions]

Techno Utopianism

There's a real possibility that General AI is impossible.

General AI is when the AI understands what it's saying. These "AI" bots we see today do not understand what they are saying. All they can do is generate text based on what it has seen and then gauges from human reaction if it did it in a good way.

It's like you speaking random words from a language you don't understand AT ALL and then repeating the words that got smiles and laughs from the people around you. You have no comprehension of what you are saying but you can repeat what gets the response you're looking for and eventually you'll get so good at it the people listening would swear you seem to know what you're saying.

That's where AI is now. And the leap from repetition to understanding is MASSSSSSSIVE!!! It cannot be understated the gaping chasm between the two.

We are not close enough to even know if it's possible yet.

But we all assume that it will be. Because we've all been hyped up on technology. That it's this inevitable force of nature. That whatever we can imagine will be possible eventually.

We have NO IDEA how far technology can take us. It could get to the point where further advancement is too complicated and expensive to be worth it.

We're already seeing this in the CPU power front. Advancements in that area have slowed down tremendously in the past years because of this. Now there's talk of Quantum Computing replacing traditional computers and the CPU power creep will start anew. But there's also massive hurdles to quantum computing that may never be overcome. First of all, quantum computers are extremely sensitive to vibrations. How would you like a computer that bricks if sneeze near it? They also need a supply of super coolant so I hope you have enough liquid hydrogen to get you through that match!

This and its many other limitations may very well make it impossible to have your own personal quantum computer. They may only be viable in very controlled clean rooms. So that leaves us only with standard processors that we're already plateauing on.

That everything is possible is a utopian thinking at the best of times and a sleazy marketing ploy at the worst.

And no one wants to be the people who said cell phones were an impossible pipe dream. So there's massive incentive to buy into the bullshit because it's better to believe and be wrong than to not believe and be wrong.

Companies prey on that optimism and hope to sell you bullshit and to scare you. "Yes, there is no limit to what can be done and we control it so don't ask for higher wages just be thankful we still need you at all!"

This is why the very people pushing for AI advancement will tell you how dangerous AI is. How likely it is that it betrays us and takes over. Because they want you to think they have this enormous power at their finger tips and you can get in on the ground floor with an investment now, and for the love of god, stop asking for higher wages!

TLDR: Be more skeptical of technology. It's not magic or a god but we treat it like it is and grifters are more than happy to capitalize on that.

[heresmyfiddlestick]

in the linked article, McTighe says "I figured Conrad did his research, and stole the name of a previous organisation that opposed and clashed with UNIT." it doesn't seem like there's a real deep ideological connection between the two, either in Conrad's mind or in McTighe's.

to me it simply reads like a contemporary conspiracist grifter trying to claim legitimacy from and continuity with what he perceives as a more legit historical organisation. Robot's Think Tank was co-opted by a secret society of techno-fascists, but over that it held a veneer of legitimacy as an organisation advancing scientific research. it had contracts with the government, institutional support.

as for the stories themselves, the whole gambit of Robot's Think Tank involves gaining access to world's superpowers' nuclear arsenals to exact their desires. echoes of Kate's line in Lucky Day about the havoc that would be caused by a dictator having access to UNIT's tech. however, the purported reason for the actions of Robot's Think Tank are eco-fascism ("to make people stop destroying the planet") whereas Lucky Day's <think_tank> is more concerned with selling merch and... uncovering the lies that the government is feeding to the people?

i think there's a coherent message there about the type of modern-day reactionary conspiracism that Conrad represents having no coherent ideology, even when compared to the fascists of bygone eras. maybe there's even a bigger point to be made about social media's role in preventing people from organising around coherent ideological movements, or about how they really do prioritise selling merch (so many branded hats and shirts in the latter half of that episode!), reflecting the individualist capitalist bent of these people

but while "the villain is inappropriately claiming continuity with a previous group of baddies" is interesting, it's probably something that should have been spelled out further or left out entirely

still not honestly sure Why lucky day mentioned robot given that, like. robot's "think tank" (which was a nickname, not their actual name) were Evil Scientists that wished unit would stop meddling in their attempts to blow up everything whereas conrad's lot seems to think unit are Evil Scientists who keep meddling

[chucktaylorupset]

A Grifter’s Rings

“Does that ever bother you?” asked Breanna.

Sophie finished working her wedding ring off her finger.  Laid out on her bed was the disguise for her persona: an impoverished mourner who was extremely ready to sell off her only inheritance of a priceless lost Monet to a corrupt antiquities smuggler.  The simple threadbare black dress was an ensemble that would be completely contradicted by the austere elegance and wealth displayed by Sophie’s wedding ring.

“It’s no bother.  Not at all.” Sophie smiled.

“Because you’re such a good thief?”  Breanna said eagerly with her usual brilliant hunger for rooting out the right answer and the praise for doing so.

“I am a grifter,” Sophie corrected.  “And while I am good enough to put aside any personal feelings, I married a man who planned so that I would never have to.”

Sophie brought out her primary jewelry box, which by size is closer to a tasteful small jewelry trunk.  She set it on the vanity.  

“My Nate knew he was to be the husband of a grifter.  A retired one, but still a grifter.  And so he didn’t get me just one ring.” Sophie opened the jewelry box with a flourish.  Nestled inside its tiered felt shelves were dozens of different rings.  Elegant rings, garish rings, rings big and small.  She found and selected a plain silver band and placed it on her finger.

“Nate ensured that no matter who I would be being, that I would have a ring from him to wear.” And neclaces and bracelets and brooches for those personas where the rare mark was put off by the challenge of meeting someone married.  But she didn’t need to go into that with Breanna now.  “Most of them he made sure we stole together.  All of them have a story.  This one is forged from melted silverware that belonged to Henry the Eighth.”

Breanna came over to peer into the jewelry box.  She picked up an enormous emerald ring with a square cut.  “Where is this one from?”

Sophie felt a pang of grief, but then it passed as it always did. “A private collection in a penthouse in Berlin.  This was actually a gift for my birthday.  We went in as party guests, the Duke and Duchess of Hanover.  The mark had what was then the latest from Coast Security.”  She added the technical details as a tidbit for the hacker.

“With the full six different sets of sensors each on their own circuit and the Widogast XV firewall?  Don’t you need at least ten hours and a Babel Techno Tower to crack that?”

“Ordinarily I assume yes.  But we were grifters.  If we’ve done it right, it ends with the mark handing us what we want.”

Sophie went into the story of that heist, and the stories for all the other rings caught Breanna’s fancy.  Each time there was a pang of grief, that gentled into nostalgia.  Breanna brought the same eagerness to learn to each of Sophie’s stories, her mind desperately working to make out the twists of the con before it was revealed.  Once or twice, she was even right.  

It was no wonder Hardison had told Breanna so many stories if she was always this much of a joy in listening.  And there was the fact that Breanna had never known a living Nathan Ford.  So there was none of the weight of if Sophie were to tell these stories to Eliot and Parker and Hardison, the heaviness of their worry and shared grief.

On the bed, the black dress and the con with it could hold for a couple hours.  For now there were the legends of mastermind Nathan Ford and grifter extroirdinaire Sophie Deveraux who were, like the rings, brilliant, glittering, and glamorous, forever.

[odinsblog]

I did not have twitter going bankrupt before tumblr on my bingo card

[votederpycausemufins]

hehehehe. We got some hels lore in this chapter! that's totally the only thing going on here. nothing else. nothing with the nightmare crew or stuff with grian. nope!

hermit tommy au by @petrichormeraki

Phil looked away from the scroll and towards the window of his study. Wherever they were all stuck, time was moving faster than normal, obvious by the fact that he could see the sun moving. As far as anyone that was part of this false reality was concerned, the day was progressing normally, so any attempts to point it out didn’t go well. That also meant that as far as his kingdom and the other one were concerned, they had been fighting for a number of days by now. And whether that was a good or bad thing, Phil couldn’t tell.

On one hand, with time moving the way it was, things were progressing faster, so he didn’t have to wait days for a message to arrive and be left sitting, waiting for an answer. On the other hand, if everyone was imprisoned to get at him, they likely weren’t being treated well and possibly tortured if this place thought that was what he feared most. It wasn’t, but it could get at that.

Fortunately, the scroll in his hand assured him they were unharmed. They were being held captive and weren’t taking well to it, but they still had food and shelter. The one problem was the messages implied that it was just the princes, meaning Tommy, Techno and Wilbur, but a few made mention of others, so Phil couldn’t be sure.

No answers had been given in terms of a trade, since apparently they had captured some of those belonging to the other kingdom, but apparently they weren’t of the same worth as a prince. Though, as Phil mulled it over, the most information he had was through the means of the letters he got or what those in his castle told him. If he talked with the captured guards, he could interrogate them, learn more, and then possibly work from that.

“Someone prepare the prisoners for questioning. I want to speak with them and see if I can’t weasel something out of them that we can use.”

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Grian looked at the house in front of them, then back to the other teens, both Flora and Astrid not taking their eyes off of the building. “Alright, here’s the plan. Neither Toob or Sil know about Astrid being back, plus she knows the layout of the place. Grian, Silski obviously doesn’t like you, so you’re going to be with me distracting both of them. I’ll disguise it as getting off on the wrong foot and also introducing you to Toob.”

“What after that?” Grian asked, a little lost since he had only caught half of what Astrid had been signing to Flora on the way there.

“Well, once Astrid gives the signal, which is probably bashing some kneecaps, we book it out of here. Wait, Grian, you’re avian, maybe you can-”

Grian stopped Flora before she could continue. “I haven’t tried flying in years. My wings were never in the best condition, and while they might be good enough to fly on now, I’m probably really rusty.”

“Yeah, okay, probably not the best thing to find out when we need it. Uh, hey, you could try shooting Silski if he doesn’t have his knees bashed in enough. He’s a sculk hybrid, so they’re pretty tough.”

“I… don’t know what that is.” Grian said. Grifter had told him plenty about the people and things they had made here, but not really much about what was different compared to the world he grew up in. Flora obviously wanted to help explain that gap if her expression were anything to go on, but Astrid nudged her and signed. “Astrid’s right. We’re already here, with a plan. Let’s do this prank and then you can talk as much as you want.”

‘Bold choice of words.’ Astrid signed, then pulled out a bat, resting it on her shoulder and holding it with her head. ‘You two head in first.’

Flora gave a thumbs up and then grabbed Grian’s hand, pulling him over to the front door of the house and knocking on the door. There was a voice from inside, and then after a bit someone answered the door. As opposed to Silski, who Grian had seen at the trek to see Flora’s mom, they were instead faced with someone who Grian was surprised to see was shorter than him, though part of that did seem to be that they were hunched over a bit. They had curly blond hair and large light grey horns coming out from it that made Grian wonder if maybe that was why they were so hunched. “What do you want, Fleur?”

Flora gave a sweet little smile that Grian could tell was a bit forced. “Well, my uncle invited another family member of mine over! His name is Grian and I’m helping him meet people.”

“And why the fuck are you bothering me about this?”

“Well, I met someone else earlier, I think they were named Silski?” Grian spoke up, immediately finding a groove. “Well, we got off on the wrong foot and I wanted to try and start over.”

Toob looked Grian over before scoffing. “Whatever. You act like Wassa. Just less drugs. Let’s get this over with.”

“Well, is Silski here?” Flora asked, getting a glare from Toob, but he hobbled off and soon returned with the hulking teal and pink person Grian remembered before. This time, the avian was able to get a better look, the person having weird sort of antler things on his head and wearing an unbuttoned dress shirt that revealed a pattern of shifting and glowing dots that were almost hypnotizing. Almost. “Hello Silski!”

“Why’s short Grifter here?” Silski asked with a huff, making Grian move a step closer.

“Uh, my name is actually Grian. I’m a relative of Flora’s.”

“Who spends too much time with Sense no doubt.” Silski spat at Grian, causing Flora to pull out her axe. “What? It’s true. That unnatural little fuck shouldn’t be around here.”

“That’s my uncle you’re talking about!” Flora shouted, swinging her axe next to Silski as a warning.

“Who’s fucking your cousin or something.” Silski shouted back, pointing to Grian. “There’s no way he smells that bad otherwise!”

“Ew! Gross!” Grian said, now with that unfortunate thought in his head. Technically, that was probably true because of Grifter… but gross.

“Well not even Grifter smells that-” Silski stopped, antler things twitching before he turned around just in time to get hit by Astrid and her bat.

“Go go go!” Flora shouted, whacking Toob and then grabbing the sack Astrid had brought with her but set down to attack. True to Flora’s words before, Astrid’s attacks didn’t do much, so Grian pulled out his gun and shot Silski a few times before running after the other two, catching up at the cliff where they started. “Whew! That was close!”

“Yeah, but we got what we wanted, right?” Grian asked, and Flora held up the bag. “Okay good. Can we get back to the castle before I can think about what Silski was saying again.”

“Yeah yeah yeah let’s go!” Flora agreed, giving the sack to Astrid and then heading to the castle. Once they arrived, Astrid went to deal with the sack, leaving Flora a chance to explain things to Grian. “So, what do you want to know first?”

“Uh, I guess anything that leads up to the sculk stuff, whatever that is.”

“Okay, so I’m sure you know most peaceful animals like pigs and sheep and rabbits.” Flora started, making Grian nod and internally disagree with one of the animals being on the peaceful list. “The only weirder ones are probably the nylpigs. Wassa has a lot of them. Astrid even has a few deals with him because she can get mycelium which he apparently really likes. Anyway, right, uh, so the more monster stuff show up in different dimensions. Main overworld stuff is like skeletons, zombies, spiders- uh there’s two kinds of those, big purple ones that you can only find in certain caves, and really big brown ones that are all over. Creepers are exploding things. I’m sure you know about that since Euro’s a hybrid.”

Grian shook his head before catching himself. “Uh, you seem to like talking about it, so go ahead.”

“Right! Well for the most part, they’re just really quiet and like to sneak up on you and explode, or explode if you sneak up on them because they get scared. Silverfish are annoying as fuck and guard the gateway to The Dark, but Grifter is still trying to fix that place up so we can access it. There are slime you can sometimes keep as pets, illagers- right, forgot. There’s a native population of other humanoids that are just known as villagers. Anyway, where was I?”

“You mentioned the villagers because of the illagers.” Grian reminded the fox hybrid, who lit up.

“Right! Well illagers are outcast villagers that want to get revenge or something. Then there are like water zombies called the drowned, and then there’s the barnacle and greater barnacle. I know, sounds silly, much deadlier than the name implies. They live in sea temples. Uh, there’s also zombies called husks in the desert and… oh yeah! The Great Hunger. Also in deserts. It’s actually pretty cool!”

“Well, glad to know all the-” Grian started, but Flora stopped him.

“No! There’s still two other dimensions! I mean the aether is filled with stuff like Aerwhales, sheepuffs and kirrid, but also hostile monsters like tempests, valk and swets. And then The Dark has sculk and the Warden and shriekers! There’s so much more!”

Before Grian could object or Flora could continue, there was a knock, and the two of them looked to see Astrid in the doorway. ‘Hey …, everything’s set up.’

“Hell yeah!” Flora cheered, jumping up, then helping Grian to his feet.

“Hey, little confused about something Astrid signed there.” Grian spoke up, following as Astrid led them to a different room.

“I’d tell you, but we’re- oh who cares, let them learn. This sign-” and Flora repeated the movements. “Is for bitch. Astrid was saying bitches. You need to learn more curse word signs.”

“I’ll agree with you there.” Grian said, then they reached the room Astrid was leading them to. For the most part it was an unused but messy cross between a bedroom and storage room, but sitting on the dusty mess of a bed was a little kid with shimmering blonde hair and a pair of silvery wings that were poking out of an oversized t-shirt that they wore as a dress. They also were very quiet due to the candy cane in their mouth. “So then… this is Jane?”

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When guards came to pull one of them out of the cell, Doc was the first to volunteer. He hoped that being outside the cell, if only for a little bit, would help him get some information or item to break them out, even if that ended up being swiping the keys off a guard.

As the hybrid was pulled to a different room and chained to a table, he couldn’t help but wonder what this was about. They had thought that they were imprisoned to keep them out of the way of whatever was going on, but here Doc was, suddenly pulled into the events.

He sat quietly at the table, mulling things over when the door started to open. Doc looked over to see who it was and froze, Phil doing the same as they stared each other down. “Doc?”

“Oh thank void.” Doc said, relaxing a bit. “Me ‘n a few of the others have been stuck in a dungeon cell or something.”

“Yeah. My dungeon.” Phil said. “I… Look, apparently I’m at war and you were supposed to be some captured soldiers from another kingdom.”

“Not the case here.” Doc shrugged, making the chains keeping him to the table rattle enough to draw Phil’s attention to them and then uncuff Doc. “I’m with Mumbo, X and EX. We woke up in the cell and have been trying to break out since. I mean, we figured out this is supposed to be your nightmare, but other than that, we’ve got nothing.”

“Well, Tommy, Techno, Wilbur, Paul and Grum are probably all hostages to the other kingdom if you guys are here. They’re trying to get me to surrender in return for their freedom.”

“I’m sure they can handle it.” Doc said, leading Phil to the cells so he could free the other three. “Paul has his prison expertise, Grum has a number of tricks up his sleeve, and Tommy has that knack for finding his way out of things. I’m sure the other two also have their own things they can do.”

“Yeah, but none of this is running on real logic. I mean, a day barely lasts an hour around here and I still don’t know who I’m fighting.”

The pair reached the cells and the other three were very glad about being let out. Phil led them out of the dungeons and into the main area of the castle, showing them to a large room near his study which they could use as a sort of meeting area that wouldn’t concern the guards. After everyone was settled, Phil grabbed some parchment and started writing, eventually sending a message to the other kingdom, hoping this new development would change some things.

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Jrum raced out of the storage room to find out what was going on. The first thing he noticed was the giant box made out of bedrock that wasn’t there before. Meanwhile, curled up and huddled against one of the nearby walls of the base was Vee, who seemed to be scared of something, probably whatever was trapped in the box.

Those suspicions were confirmed when Jrum asked what was wrong and Vee pointed to the box. “Do you think you could open it again?” Jrum asked, pulling out a sword, but Vee just curled up tighter and started shaking her head. “If you let whatever it is out, I’ll fight it.”

Vee didn’t seem completely convinced, but she at the very least was convinced enough to make an opening in the bedrock that Jrum could get through. The bot nodded at Vee and then turned back to the box, only for her to scream again as the thing inside managed to escape. As it did, Jrum put his sword away, now upset at Vee than wanting to protect her. “You trapped Ren?!”

Before more could be said, magic suddenly wrapped around Ren and he was suddenly shoved back into the box, a groan of pain coming from inside it a moment later. Angrily, Jrum stomped over to Vee who had, for some reason, stuck all her fingers in her mouth. “What are you doing?!”

“W-well…” Vee started, moving her hands to sit on them instead. “Papa said you lick your fingers before putting out a fuse so your saliva helps put it out, and that using magic is kinda like that, so I-”

“Not that! Why did you trap Ren?! Is it because he followed us? The others probably didn’t like us going on our own, that’s all!”

At that point, Ren escaped the box again. “Yeah, that’s exactly it, and I think it might be that she knows I’m a werewolf.”

“Ugh! I’m getting Basil to see if petti-” Jrum stopped, gears turning in his head. “Wait, do you know who Perfect Sense is?” He asked Vee, who nodded. “What about Grifter?”

“Y-yeah… h-he’s friends w-with my d-dad.”

“And what server are you from?” Jrum asked, eyes narrowed.

“M-Mystic P-Paradice.” Vee answered quietly. “W-well, my dad m-made a world for us… b-but it doesn’t really have a name.”

“Don’t care. What do you know about my dad?”

Before Vee could answer, Ren came over to Jrum and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, calm down. Even if she knows something, I doubt you’ll get much out of her.”

Jrum crossed his arms, but looked at Vee again, who he had to admit did look terrified out of her mind. Almost like… “Fine, whatever. But I’m gonna find out later.”

“Alright, now what were you up to going all the way out here?” Ren asked, and Jrum ran back down to the storage system before returning moments later with a shulker box. “Redstone?”

“Of course redstone! A lot is going on and I want to make something comforting with all the chaos going on. It's… it's too much chaos for even me!”

“That does sound pretty serious. Here, now that you have that, we should head back to the shopping district.” But then Ren paused to look at Vee. “Well, I’m not sure how we’re getting them back yet. Unless you can carry them?”

“Why can’t you?” Jrum huffed, before Ren reminded him that Vee was freaked out because of him. “Oh… right. Uh, can we get another hermit to help?”

“Yeah, let’s see if anyone can-” Another scream came from Vee, leaving the two hermits to look over at her in time to see a second, smaller bedrock box forming. “Vee, what did you put in the box?”

Vee refused to answer Ren, so he nudged Jrum over. The bot resisted for a bit, digging his heels into the ground, but then Ren leaned down to whisper to him. “No no no! Don’t hurt them!”

“Me?” Ren asked. “I’m not going to hurt him. Look, I may be a werewolf but-”

“Just take the bad thing and go away!” Vee sounded through her tears and pointed at the second box. Sharing a glance with Ren, Jrum walked over to the box, which opened enough for him to pick up a Jellie clone.

“She doesn’t like Jellie?” Ren asked, before Jrum thought of something. He handed the Jellie to Ren and then ran off, leaving Ren to stand awkwardly nearby until Jrum returned with Professor Beak on his shoulder and a sheep on a lead.

Seeing the animals made Vee freak out more, which Jrum responded with letting the pet parrot fly home and ‘accidentally’ pushing the sheep off the edge of the base. “So…” Jrum started, looking back to Ren, who seemed to realize what Jrum had.

“She’s not scared I’m a werewolf. She’s just… scared of animals in general.”

“Yeah.”

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Paul gripped the scroll in his hands, trying not to lose his cool. None of this stuff was actually real. It couldn't be. He didn’t actually have anyone betraying him and joining the other kingdom. This was all just trying to mess with him. “Um, H-Hoodie? Any word on that group of travellers I’ve asked the guards to be on the lookout for?”

“I’m sorry sir. Nothing yet. I… don’t wish to worry you, but if I may be honest with you your majesty, it has been many a day, and I fear the worst at this point.”

Paul nodded. “Then, if that’s the case, I have no other choice.” And Paul got up off of his throne, leaving Hoodie to stumble after him. “I will go out myself and look.”

“Your majesty!” Hoodie objected. “We are at war! You leaving the castle walls seems like a horrible decision at this time.”

“Then I will be careful. Have some prepare Pickles for me.”

“Sire, please. At least have someone accompany you.” Hoodie begged, but Paul ignored the suggestion.

“Pickles is the only pegasus we own and even if we did have another, I am the only one who knows how to handle such beasts.” Paul spoke as he walked out of his castle and through the kingdom’s streets. “Hoodie, it is best if you stay here to watch the kingdom in my absence.”

“But sire-!”

“You will stay and-” Paul stopped as he got closer to the stables, a guard running up to him. “What is it?”

“There’s a problem sir.”

“Take me there.” And Paul immediately followed the guard. While they still crossed the bridge over the river, they turned left instead of right to head to the amphitheatre instead of the stables. Paul’s first guess was there was a scuffle of some kind between the workers, but that changed when he started hearing the sounds of some sort of alarm. “What… what is that?”

“We’re not sure. It sounds like it’s coming from the prison. With the reficuls in there, it’s not advised that you leave to see to the problem yourself, but what should be done is your decision.”

Paul thought it over before coming to a decision. “Let’s go into the amphitheatre so I can get a better vantage point of outside the walls and towards the prison. I’ll make my decision from there.”

The guard agreed and both he and Hoodie followed Paul up the stairs to the second floor seating. The king looked out towards the jail trying to find any sort of sign for what the sound was, when movement caught his eye. Pointing in the sky to the right, everyone looked at a person donned in reficul armor flew in. It was an avian hybrid, one whose wings Paul quickly recognized, but he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad right now.

“Stay here. I’m going to the prison.” and before the guard or Hoodie could object, Paul jumped down and broke through the kingdom’s wall to get through to the prison, only to have the walls of the building explode moments later.

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Grian shoved some boxes out of the way and collapsed on the couch with Astrid. The avian was regretting agreeing to this prank, and the other teen seemed to agree. Fortunately Flora was still doing fine, having taken Jane to run around the castle, especially if it meant finding Sense apparently.

Grian was just closing his eyes, hoping to take a nap, when he was suddenly flicked on the forehead. “Ow hey! What the fuck?!”

‘Can’t talk to you if you aren’t looking at me.’ Astrid signed back, and then hit Grian’s shoulder when he started closing his eyes again with a playful grin. ‘Bitch bitch bitch bitch bitch.’

“What? Is that the only curse you know?” Grian taunted, earning him another punch.

‘No, but it’s the only one you know.’ Astrid replied, then paused, clearly showing her weapon ready to be drawn and used. ‘Now, you and I need to have a little chat.’

Grian immediately stopped being playful and was now fully awake, ready to grab his own weapon and fight. “What is this about?”

‘Something doesn’t add up. Who are you? Who are you really?’

Grian stared at Astrid, trying to figure if there was some way out of this, but the mask she wore covered her face and hid her emotions, so Grian had nothing. “Why do you want to know?”

‘I don’t like you lying to Flora. I don’t care if anyone else knows, I’m not planning to tell them. But I want to know for Flora. Plus, she’s already suspicious because of something she found before.’

Thinking it over, Grian realized the hybrid probably saw the papers Grifter had given to him about his past. His future? Stuff that had happened at the very least. “Well, Grifter didn’t really want me-”

‘How about this. You answer, and then you can ask me other shit.’ And Astrid finger spelled the last word for Grian, making him laugh a little.

“Alright. Well, to start off, yes Grian is my name. I mean, I haven’t gotten the chance to legally change it, but that’s my name.” Grian paused to look at Astrid, who nodded to show she was following along. “Uh, I’m… actually kinda… from the past.”

Grian paused, waiting for Astrid to be surprised at least a little, but she wasn’t. ‘My brother messed with time stuff all the time to torture people. Accidental time shit doesn’t seem that bad.’

“Oh. Alright then. So, Grifter is future me, but he’s also Grian.” And that was something that got a reaction from Astrid. “Okay, see, something happened when I was a kid, getting me sent to another world away from my family. Apparently later on, me slash Grifter got the power to go looking for everyone and it worked, but… everything was a mess.”

Grian paused, pulling out the balled up piece of paper that hadn’t been taken back from him by Grifter. “My… my youngest brother is dead. He killed himself. Then my twins, one of them is some sort of murdering monster who betrayed our younger brother, and the other one is also dead, killed off by my dad.”

At this point, Grian had teared up a bit, and Astrid did her best to comfort him, unfortunately knowing that whatever Grian was saying had to be true. Papers like that couldn’t be forged, especially since her dad had mentioned helping to get them.

With Astrid’s support, Grian wiped his eyes, looking the paper over again before stuffing it back in his inventory. “W-well, apparently after finding all that out, Grifter went looking for someplace to stay. We’ve already dealt with other universes with different versions of ourselves, so he went looking for that and… found here. Instead of needing to kill his other version or trying to keep him away, the real Grifter was stuck in some sort of prison and he took their place.”

From there, Astrid did a bit more comforting for Grian, but inside she was fuming. It was a perfect sort of lie to tell. She couldn’t tell anyone the truth since Grifter had threatened her, she couldn’t give half of the ‘truth’ Grian had been told because then he might try correcting her, and she couldn’t tell the full ‘truth’ because that would upset Flora.

‘Alright. That sounds like a lot. I won’t tell Flora, but, I would consider telling her yourself at some point.’

Grian nodded in agreement, calming down a little bit and just sitting there quietly until there was some buzzing, and Astrid had to pull out her comm. ‘Can you call for Flora. I need her right now!’

With how quickly Astrid was signing, Grian nearly missed what she was saying, but caught enough to know what she needed and based on how frantic she was acting, it was really important. “Flora! Something’s wrong! Astrid needs you, like, right now!”

Almost immediately Flora came skidding into the room, asking what was wrong. Astrid’s answer was to hold up her comm, which drew Flora nearer as the non-hybrid pressed a button. She then pressed a second one and suddenly crying came from the speaker of the communicator, Astrid and Flora now huddled around it as the comm was passed to Flora and Astrid started to sign.

“Vee? Vee it’s Flora, and Astrid’s here too of course. What’s going on, what’s wrong?”

“Bad things! Bad things are here a-and they’re tr-trapping m-me and I’m s-scared!”

“Hey hey hey, calm down. Can you tell us a little more detail. What bad things? What do they look like?”

“Th-there are two of them. T-there were four, b-but one flew a-away and one l-left.” Vee explained through the comm.

“Okay, and what are the two that are left.”

“O-one i-is a feline thing… it’s gray and white.”

“And how big is it?”

“Um… I-It’s a l-little s-smaller than… than… a tv?” Vee explained, getting Flora to look up with a shrug and Astrid to quickly sign something to Flora in an explanation. “A-are you still there?”

“Yeah! Yeah we’re still here. That’s a cat. A normal cat. It might scratch you but you should be fine if you leave it alone. What about the other one?”

“It’s… it’s really b-big. Bigger than p-papa. They l-look like a p-person… m-mostly… but they g-got ears and a tail a-and they s-said they’re a w-werewolf.”

“Oh shii-oot, that’s not good. Can you find someone who can keep you safe? Can you try calling your dad?”

“I h-have a fr-friend here, b-but I c-can’t call p-papa!”

“Okay. Okay okay okay. Uh, and I left my comm in the other room!” Flora said, more to herself than anyone. She then looked around before shoving the comm into Grian’s hand. “Hey, my uncle is here too! He’s gonna translate for Astrid while I get my comm, okay?”

There were a few sniffles before Vee said “Okay.” And then Flora rushed off.

Astrid turned to Grian and started to sign, slower than she had been signing to Flora, but still faster than normal. “Okay, uh… how close is your… your friend to you? Keeping them close… should help out. They’ll keep you safe from any ani- er, bad things.”

“Ok-kay. J-Jrum… c-can you-”

Vee was stopped when someone else spoke. Their voice was quieter, but got louder as they got closer. “Now what is it? I’m not really in the mood to try talking to anyone right now.”

“Y-you don’t h-have to. A-Astrid just s-said I should k-keep you c-closer r-right now.”

“And Astrid is mute, so she’s signing to me and I’m translating.”

There were a few moments of silence before Vee’s friend asked a question. “And who’s translating?”

“Flora s-said her uncle was g-gonna translate. H-He’s the o-one married t-to Perfect Sense.”

After that, there was the sounds of some sort of struggle before the other person’s voice came through the other side, louder than before. “What did you do with my dad?!”

[eirikrjs]

Isn't wildly differing interpretations of the significance of x or y subject within a larger framework that remains roughly consistent one of the hallmarks of the natural sectarian tendencies of living religions/myth systems? I don't think the modern UFO community having different interpretations of the purpose or hierarchy of the visitors disqualifies them from still being considered part of a larger "belief system" even if it's not as ordered as equivalent "classical" myth systems. A lot of the modern eye on interpreting ancient myth systems elides or collapses what was likely a significant amount of differing interpretation or etc. from person to person, let alone from temple to temple - we only get a broad picture of what was most widely accepted or documented.

Fair, and believing UFOs exist definitely qualifies as a transformative worldview. But as I said in the reply to Caligula, I personally just don't feel right calling their phenomenon more than "folklore" or thereabouts. And unlike the classical period where we certainly have multiple, conflicting accounts of myths, our modern media has more or less recorded every single instance of extraterrestrial phenomena--and more footage of lights in the sky or hazy recollections of abductions doesn't mean they are automatically compelling.

UFOs also exist alongside of (or in response to) our technological advances in science and its skeptical attitudes. Even if some buy into an event as genuinely extraterrestrial, just as many if not more will doubt and/or search for scientific explanations instead. These beliefs are considered fringe from the get-go. While lots of religious/spiritual worldviews (take the Goetia) are fringe themselves, they depend on an inexplicable supernatural force and are compatible with parent systems. On the other hand, aliens' existence depends on science and technology, not magic, albeit "technology that's indistinguishable from magic." (Though honestly, what's so techno-magical about dissecting cows in open fields?) That said, accepting the fabric of alien lore doesn't require the believer to scientifically consider the insane technology needed to travel vast distances in space or theories like the Fermi Paradox that raise doubts about Earth achieving actual extraterrestrial contact anytime soon.

While we've mentioned the consistencies, if you consider extraterrestrials holistically, there is a sliding scale of seriousness, tone, authenticity, you name it. For example, here are three wildly different extraterrestrial-based events: the Flatwoods monster, the Travis Walton account, and Heaven's Gate. Respectively, a barn owl that'll spook kids, a grifter whose movie adaptation spooked adults, and an actual religious cult that resulted in dozens of deaths. Even assuming the Flatwoods monster and Travis Walton abduction are authentic, is it even possible to reconcile these three into one system in a satisfyingly cohesive way? I would say no, and that the only "legitimate" one is Heaven's Gate, not necessarily because of the deaths but because of the members' fervor for Marshall Applewhite, their prophet and redeemer and on whose words they performed a final ritual for their own salvation. But Heaven's Gate by itself doesn't prove a consistent UFO mythology (in fact it seems rather incompatible), just that the group existed (exists?) as its own distinct interpretation.

I might be so opposed to the idea of UFO religion/mythology as equal to ancient mythology because I started learning about it via a book I read as a kid (that I've never been able to find in adulthood) that considered aliens or at least characters like the Flatwoods monster in the same category as the Mad Gasser of Mattoon, Spring-Heeled Jack, and other urban legends!

[dogboyren]

fungus brain decided to combine hyperfixes so here’s my take on an mcyt x tma au (tips and additions accepted readily) [more or less character replacement for the tma timeline but i work better with a preconstructed timeline]

dream- hunt avatar. his mode of “hunting” is thrill-seeking, constantly finding people good enough to give him a chase before he turns it around at the end and hunts them back full force. marked by the stranger (and doesn’t like it)

george- eye avatar. head of the magnus archives and a calm observer, taking in everything in the archives. the real george seeps through every once in a while, since it is mostly just jonah magnus 

sapnap- desolation avatar. got into the cult of the lightless flame and accepted his fate there

bbh- dark avatar? idk 

fundy- the archivist, eye avatar. seeks out and consumes knowledge, especially when it’s unknowing to the person he’s spying on. thrives off knowing people’s secrets and life stories, but doesn’t accept the fact that he’s an avatar.

wilbur- lonely/desolation (no clue which one yet). shaken by everything post-unknowing, he isolates himself in “exile” and tries to blow up the archives. a lot. someone send help

philza- vast avatar. loves flying around and doing the traditional fairchild execution fall. is somewhat responsible for helping wilbur be in isolation in his domain (skyblock)

tommy- slaughter avatar. has no idea he’s an avatar and constantly denies it. listens to grifter’s bone for fun and actually likes it

tubbo- corruption avatar. is a living beehive for his many bees. his blood is honey and he can talk to bees 

techno- flesh/slaughter (again, undecided). runs a butcher shop, kills ppl for fun and for some meat :) human flesh tastes like pork, ya know

schlatt- web avatar. kinda takes the role of peter lukas, aka takes over the archives at one point. makes a lot of contracts and holds people to them and bc he’s a literal web avatar they can’t escape them

all i got so far but more are to come

EDIT: more

skeppy- spiral avatar. just likes shoving ppl into his mazes and having fun watching them stumble <3