Now that the days (in the Northern Hemisphere at least) are getting shorter and darker, why not enhance your fanfic reading experience with a fun challenge?
Generate your own Fanfic Reading Bingo Card and try to finish it over a timespan of your choice (e.g. during your next family gathering).
Details & instructions under the cut
Generate a new bingo card until you're (mostly) happy with the results. You can re-roll every single bingo field separately by clicking/tapping on it. When you have a card that fits your reading habits (or takes you out of your comfort zone, if you want to challenge yourself), take a screenshot of the card to keep it. Closing the page and reloading it will reset the card.
There are no fanfic-negative or bashing items in the lists. This bingo card is meant to be a positive experience and celebrate fanfiction and fanworks in general.
It's just a little practice piece I made for funsies mostly over the weekend, with some finishing touches earlier today. I will add more content over the next few days and weeks (and let's be realistic, probably months), but everything that's currently in there should already work as intended.
The bingo generator is responsive, which means it should work on desktop and mobile. The mobile layout isn't ideal yet, I'm trying my best to make it better (but I'd also still consider myself a newbie and I'm learning by doing).
The platform I'm using, Perchance, recently added AI options for their generators. This is a regrettable decision that I don't condone, and I'd like to emphasise that this generator is 100% handcrafted chaos.
Leaving the NSFW checkbox unchecked should remove all NSFW tags and tropes, but you could still come across content you find objectionable. Leaving the AO3 Tags checkbox unchecked removes all tags, but you could still come across tropes you find objectionable.
If you run into any issues or come across any bugs, please let me know. If you find something that should be in the NSFW category, but isn't, please also let me know. It's possible that I missed a few tags when I worked through the list. (But don't ask me to remove content you find objectionable.)
What do the checkboxes mean?
NSFW is basically what it says on the tin. If you tick this box, the NSFW tropes will be added to the mix. If you also ticked the AO3 Tags box, NSFW AO3 tags will be added.
AO3 Tags is also what it says on the tin. It's a list with roughly 1,000 AO3 tags. Around 250 of them are currently marked NSFW and can only be generated if you ticked both the NSFW box and the AO3 Tags box.
Stats & Meta currently only includes the lists "length" (contains wordcounts ranging from drabble to >500k) and "meta", which currently contains items like "a work with a song lyrics title" or "a work in a series". I will probably add other lists to that category at some point.
The already populated lists are:
challenge (various challenges and events like Yuletide, Whumptober)
creator (items like favourite author, anon creator)
discovery (various ways you could've found a fic)
fandom (ranging from tiny fandom to megafandom, also options like old fandom, inactive fandom, etc)
length (wordcounts from drabble to over 500k)
medium (items like podfic, fandom meta, fic with fanart)
meta (a fic's front-end and stats, also "citrus scale for rating" xD)
platform (where you read the fic)
reader (your relationship with the fic; is it your comfort fic, or your first fic in a fandom?)
style (chatfic, iambic pentameter, custom workskin, stuff like that)
trope (roughly 100 tropes)
tag (roughly 1,000 AO3 tags)
Lists that are currently planned, but empty:
canon (probably stuff like anime fandom, video game fandom, etc)
category (planned to add the AO3 categories and maybe Archive Warnings to this list)
content (might be scrapped, might be populated with some items moved over from other lists)
genre (what it says on the tin)
setting (where or when does the fic take place)
It's possible that I come up with more ideas for more lists at one point.
I had lots of fun making it, and I hope that you'll have fun with it. If you're using it, let me know when you got a bingo! :D
If you have fannish accounts on there (or don't mind inflicting fandom on your regular followers), you can also share the Fanfic Reading Bingo on Twitter, Mastodon, and Bluesky! :D
Endless were the number of cases each agent had been charged with, and despite insisting that he was kind of in the middle of something important, the Hunter that had come to collect Agent Mobius from the interrogation room persisted.
“Fine, fine. I got it.” Reluctance sags his shoulder as he pushes up from his seat. He mumbles under his breath words too soft in volume to make out at this distance, but what you assumed to be complaints by the how much his was frowning. “Don’t go anywhere.” A hint of movement from the other side of the table prompts the firm warning from the seasoned agent. His tone more in line with a stressed out parent at the end of long day than true anger.
“Now, see here--!” Riding on the waves of his own frustration, the Variant surges to his feet. He makes to round the table to reach the exiting Mobius, but a twist of a dial has him falling back into the hard plastic chair. A mixture of confusion and displeasure flickering across his fine features in waves.
TemPad in hand, Mobius now turns his attention to you. “D...47?” He squints, reading out the tag on your uniform. There were so many Hunters within TVA’s ranks, you couldn’t really fault him for not remembering you, even though it had been months since your arrival in his unit. “Keep an eye on him while I’m gone, will ya?”
“Yes sir.” Your response is simple, quick. And in the few seconds it takes for you to say them, he is already out the door. Your fellow Hunter hot on his heels and reiterating, once more, that he needs to see this.
For at time there is peace. Ten minutes of uninterrupted silence.
The Variant, or Loki (as he had been called by your absent superior), stewed in his thoughts. His attention drifting between the manila folder of papers that had been left spread across the table, and the Holoprojector that had shown him brief snippets of his life. Things that had already both come to pass, and things that had not.
You had watched in passive silence the range of expressions that moved across his face as Mobius played one scene after another for him. Irritation. Regret. Grief.
None of that was present now as he pins you with a curious blue stare.
You entire body goes tense. What now?
From head to toe he looks you over, observing and scrutinizing every part of you from the comfort of his chair. Like Mobius before him, he too squints at the name-tag emblazoned in bright red ink with your designation. “D47, was it?”
For a second time your eyes meet. Loki waiting for a response that he had, in fact, read those apparently hard to make out letter and numbers right.
You, on the other hand, blink at him in confusion. Up to this point, your only interaction with apprehended Variants had been escorting them before Judge Ravonna for sentencing. They were often too irate or shell-shocked by everything going on around them, you had never once considered holding a conversation with one before.
Perhaps he would lose interest if you said nothing--
“Do all of you wear code names on your uniform?” He spins his chair to face you, having decided to take it upon himself to keep things going despite your silence. One brow arched in a judgmental fashion toward the small bit of plastic he seemed to find so offensive all of sudden.
...why was he being so talkative all of sudden?
With Agent Mobius he had been nothing but sarcastic. Answering in circles, or straight up refusing to cooperate. Yet now of all times, he felt like talking to someone?
“Quiet, Variant.” You put on your best ‘serious Hunter mode’ voice and straighten your poster a little. All in an attempt to show that you were more in command of the situation than you actually felt.
“Loki.” He corrects, not the least bit intimidated by your efforts. In fact, he seemed to almost be laughing at you behind that sly smirk of his. Placing both elbows to rest on the table, Loki leans a little closer in your direction. Wavy locks of a dark hair framing his handsome face so perfectly, you can’t help but stare for a moment before he speaks again. “Which is it, then? A call sign? Company regulated nickname?”
He must be bored.
Stuck in room, bombarded by question after question, he was looking for some kind of distraction. And, seeing as how you were the only other sentient being in the room at current, you would have to do.
“...That is my name. D-4-7.” You take time to pronounce each part loud and clear, leaving no room for a misunderstanding of any kind.
And judging by the sudden dour expression Loki now sported, it wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. “You can’t be serious?” He pauses, waits for you to say...something. But when it becomes glaring obvious by your prolonged silence that it was, in fact, 100% your name, he looks offended. “So you’re telling me, while he gets to be called Mobius,” he nods to the empty chair on his left, “all you get is a name and number? Not very creative, is it?”
“It’s enough.” Enough to separate you from the 46 other members in your rank that came before you, and the dozen more that came after. So what if it liked the flair of your superior’s own moniker? It served its purpose, and that’s all that matter.
Loki, however, just couldn’t seem to let it go.
You can see the gears in his head turning. His eye lighting up in such a way you would have thought it beautiful, were it not for the anxious pit now forming in your stomach.
“I suppose I’ll just have to come up with one for you then.”
“What? Why?”
“Maybe I’m just feeling generous?” He doesn’t elaborate, just smiles in such a way, it leaves you with far more questions than answers.
New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/information-technology-act-could-soon-regulate-digital-streaming-and-news-portals/
Information Technology Act could soon regulate digital streaming and news portals
NEW DELHI: The government may have to revise the Information Technology Act, 2000 to include oversight on digital streaming and news portals, top officials say. The discussions to introduce new provisions are aimed at regulating technology aspects such as collection of users’ metadata, which refers to bulk demographic and other data that firms collect about their users, as well as the algorithms that define how content is served up to individual consumers.
This follows the government’s notification last week, bringing all digital news as well as streaming platforms such as Amazon Prime and Netflix under the purview of the Information & Broadcasting (I&B) ministry.
Officials said that a separate framework to regulate the underlying technology solutions that power digital news and entertainment is required as “algorithms play an important role in how news aggregators and other platforms curate their feeds and how platforms use the metadata they collect of their users.” This can include users’ personal data such as age, educational qualification, choice of content and time spent viewing or reading it.
“All these aspects of metadata along with the algorithms will come under the IT Act, while the content part will be governed by the I&B ministry,” said one official cited above. “Some aggregators may design their algorithms to just pick content which is against a particular religion, that’s why it’s important to bring them under the ambit of the IT Act,” the person said.
Regulations by MeitY, I&B
The executive order bringing all “films and audio-visual programmes made available by online content providers” and “news and current affairs content on online platforms” under the purview of the I&B ministry, is aimed at ensuring a “level playing field” for all media, the government had said last week while issuing the order.Parminder Jeet Singh, executive director for Delhi-based think tank IT for Change, said, “Regulation of algorithms is definitely needed in defining some transparency, auditability and accountability parameters. The Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology (MeitY) can help in defining technical parameters of how this is to be achieved.” He added that express instructions coded into algorithms, say a racial bias, could be a problem along with algorithms that just choose to amplify whatever content is traveling fast. “It is estimated that falsehoods seem to travel six times faster than truth in digital platforms, so designers should have a higher level of responsibility in designing algorithms.”
The two-decade old IT Act is also expected to be revised to keep pace with technological advancements, officials said. Although this will “run parallel” to other changes needed since bringing a new legislation might take many years, the sources said.
Fear of over-regulation
Legal experts are of the view that any proposed demarcation of responsibilities between two ministries will require coordination. While MeitY retains control over policies on algorithms, metadata, personal data or non-personal data, the I&B ministry will have legislative control over content-related issues of all online news and entertainment platforms.”Some rationalisation of the responsibilities across various arms of the government may be required,” said Rahul Matthan, founder partner at Indian law firm Trilegal. With streaming and digital news platforms now under the regulatory regime, “over regulation is the big fear,” he said.
ET reported last week that social media platforms such as Facebook and Twitter along with Google, which offers curated news, could come under the purview of the new regulations. However, if such platforms and other news and content aggregators do not alter the content they host, they can continue to enjoy the immunity given to intermediary platforms under the IT Act. But, intermediaries will be under scrutiny if they deploy algorithms to curate a news feed. “Algorithms end up creating echo chambers …the issue is how the government will control them, unless they tell (technology) platforms to come up with a solution,” said Trilegal’s Matthan, adding that it is also important to understand what user data is being collected by these platforms and why.
“The approach taken by the committee on non-personal data may be adequate as it asks companies to publicly publish a list of all metadata that has been collected,” he said.
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HANNOVER, Germany and OREM, Utah, June 11, 2018 /PRNewswire-PRWeb/ --^A ClearCenter today announced the release of its new ClearNODE product line which simplifies and secures the deployment of Blockchain nodes and decentralized apps \cE2 Dapps \cE2 for private users, developers and businesses.
ClearNODE, provided by ClearCenter in exclusive partnership with Hewlett Packard Enterprise (HPE), is an integrated hardware, software and security services solution that delivers the first fully managed, secure Blockchain platform and Dapp marketplace.
ClearNODE is based on HPE ProLiant servers running ClearOS, a Linux-based operating system, connected to the ClearOS Marketplace, and secured by the ClearGM security service.
ClearNODE will be unveiled at HPE's booth at CEBIT, Hanover, Germany, June 12 to 15, in Hall 12, booth D47.
Similar to a smartphone, ClearNODE is equipped with a pre-installed and managed access to the ClearOS Dapp marketplace \cE2 but unlike smartphone apps, the Dapps are run without middleman, by a decentralized network of ClearNODE nodes. Every user is also a potential provider and can earn money by running ClearNODE, for example by providing unused storage capacity of his HPE ProLiant server to other ClearNODE users.
ClearNODE provides unique value to private users, software developers and businesses:
Private users who own cryptocurrency are faced with the new challenge of protecting digital coins from theft by criminals across the world \cE2 ClearNODE's combination of secure hardware and software give digital wallet owners peace of mind.
Software developers now can easily create decentralized applications that run automatically across multiple nodes spanning the globe through ClearCenter's ClearOS Marketplace.
Businesses looking to leverage the benefits Blockchain-based technologies provide can safely deploy at any scale on ClearNODE's industry-first secure backbone infrastructure.
"Today's blockchain infrastructure is typically a mix of unsecured or dated servers, desktops and laptops, and that's a real security problem," said ClearCenter Founder and CEO, Michael Proper. "We created ClearNODE as a four-tiered, secure solution that combines HPE ProLiant servers with ClearCenter's managed software and security services. As a result, we deliver a reliable, secure and dedicated platform and marketplace to users, developers and the Blockchain community, the first time a complete solution for Blockchain-based nodes and Dapps has been made available."
Seamless and Easy Dapp development
In keeping with ClearCenter's open source focus, any software developer may submit a Dapp for evaluation and potential inclusion in the ClearOS Marketplace following a short vetting process. ClearCenter plans to make secure Dapp deployment just as seamless and easy as it is today for smartphone developers to publish apps in Apple's App Store for iOS or Google's Play Store for Android.
By publishing a Dapp via the ClearOS Marketplace, developers automatically gain three key advantages:
Decreased development and deployment times due to open standards and ClearCenter's platform
Automatic access to thousands of decentralized nodes across the ClearCenter environment
The certainty of knowing their Dapp is running exclusively on secure nodes protected by the ClearNODE service and infrastructure
ClearCenter will also publish its own Blockchain-related apps and Dapps in the ClearOS Marketplace. ClearCenter's first two applications it will offer are ClearWALLET, a hybrid hardware/software wallet supporting multiple digital currencies, and ClearSHARE, a Blockchain-based shared storage service that automatically shards, encrypts, and distributes your files across a decentralized network.
"Dapps are a paradigm shift for deploying and using digital services, creating a wealth of new opportunities for private users, developers and businesses \cE2 however, current Dapp environments are too complex and unsecure, preventing broad adoption," said Tim Peters, Vice President and General Manager, ProLiant Servers, HPE. "In collaboration with ClearCenter, we created ClearNODE to bring the benefits of Blockchain-based services to the mass market, by providing unprecedented levels of ease and security."
Security on Four Levels
Select HPE ProLiant Gen10 servers, the world's most secure industry standard servers, feature HPE's "silicon root of trust" technology, a unique link between the custom HPE silicon and the HPE Integrated Lights Out (iLO) firmware to ensure servers do not execute compromised firmware code \cE2 a foundational benefit of the ClearNODE offering. The ClearGM managed service adds additional security layers to ClearNODE at the operating system, server, network, and gateway levels:
Firewall and unified threat management functions are fully managed and updated daily by ClearCenter to protect against external threats.
A zero-trust model for egress control protects against internal threats, phishing attempts, and malware by ensuring all outgoing requests are blocked at the network level.
DNS-based content filtering protects against inappropriate content and malicious websites.
Automatic whitelisting of services and websites is controlled by ClearGM's cloud-based machine learning system to provide a better end-user experience and provide seamless access to legitimate services.
Availability and pricing
ClearNODE is available for pre-order now starting at just $1,599.00 (USD). ClearNODE offers many HPE ProLiant hardware options including the HPE ProLiant MicroServer Gen10, HPE ProLiant ML110 Gen 10 and the HPE ProLiant ML350 Gen10.
About ClearCenter
ClearCenter creates simple, secure and affordable products for managing Hybrid IT. ClearCenter's ClearOS is a Linux-based open source operating system for managing Cloud, Server, Network and Gateway layers. It is designed for homes, small-to-medium size businesses and distributed environments. Available in multiple languages and in use in 154 countries around the globe today, ClearOS has more than 450,000 deployments serving more than 10.4 million users. Visit https://ift.tt/2AfoIGU for more information.
Set in the Amazonian jungles of South America, M.Black weaves an action-packed tale in this original YA Amazonian Eco-Fic Dystopia set forty-two years after a nuclear war. Jin—a prisoner of King Borran—and Adan—another Graphed—have to fight for their survival in a utopia gone wrong. In a world where animal cells and neural tissue have been grafted into humans, and humans are connected by brain waves to chosen animals from the Amazon, will Jin and Adan survive? Will they ever find their Animal Graph counterparts? Can the Earth find harmony with humanity and the animals or will those wanting to destroy it all win?
Socially relevant, dark and sexy, with themes that hang on environmental concerns and animal welfare…ENTER TOMORROW with ANIMAL GRAPH. A novel along the lines of Hunger Games meets X-Men. If you’re a fan of The Treemakers, The Sowing, Simulation, Age of Order, A Brave New World or A Canticle for Leibowitz, you may also enjoy this novel.
"WOW! WHAT A CONCEPT! I CAN SAY THAT THIS IS THE FIRST BOOK OF THIS KIND THAT I HAVE READ." -Amazon Reader
"THIS STORY IS A HOME RUN. THERE IS A HUNGER GAMES FEEL TO THIS STORY. VERY MUCH IMPRESSED" -Avid Reader and Editor
"THIS WAS AN AWESOME STORY. IN THE APOCALYPTIC FUTURE THEY ARE EXPERIMENTING ON PRISONERS." -Amazon Reader
My feminine bottom slides down the wet, slippery cliff at the end of the path of foliage, dropping me forty meters into the abyss below where I thrash, arms flailing about me in a sure drown, water gulping down my tight throat in a struggle for air. My long, auburn hair is drenched to my side like a second skin. I barely know how to swim, but I have no other choice but to sink down where I won’t be seen. They’re on my trail and the choking gas has almost reached me.
Glancing skyward, under a thin layer of water, I see a cake of the pinkish fog choke the plants and moss above, that grows off the dark stones there—the only elegance out here. Water cascades into a beautiful waterfall toward me in a steady stream, and I hear the loud fog horn-like sound from my pursuers alerting everyone in the vicinity that I’m nearby.
They’ll need to find me before sundown or risk encountering the savage wildlife of the Amazon rainforest, like Radguars, a mutated form of the Jaguar which began to appear after the radiation hit. No one ever lives after facing one. They’ll tear a man to shreds.
I hear them coming, five of them—they always come in fives—their thick boots hitting the forest floor in a scratch-scratch as they approach the end of my path. I’m not even sure how I do this—hear them. The distance is more than thirty meters away and the rush of water interferes with my ears. I never would have been able to do this before they took me.
Taken in the middle of the night by Borran's soldiers while asleep in my cell, a two-by-three-meter room in which I’d been locked for a year, since I was sixteen, after I’d stolen a loaf of bread from a village vendor. Too many of us end up behind bars for petty crimes, to ensure as a whole we comply with the laws. When they registered me for prison, they scanned the bar code on my upper arm, denoting my full name, region of residency, and any prior arrests. I didn’t have priors before, but now my bar code will always show I was in prison.
Block D, Cell 47; D47 was my designation. Hadn’t heard my real name—Jin Maharaj—in a year. Even my cellmate referred to me as D47. By cellmate, I mean he shared the concrete cell next to me and we could speak only through a barred opening between us, the size of my hand. We all got used to calling each other numbers. When they first took me, I’d sit in my cell for hours daydreaming about my family, about Lila—our good family friend. She was married to a medicine man and tried to help Papa and my sister May when they got sick. I’d remember her words of encouragement, ‘Nature has all the answers. Stick to nature.’ But I’d always be interrupted by our mandated chores: washing clothes, floors, toilets, gardening, or working in the shops to make rubber. Slop three times a day was pushed under the cell door to keep us alive for all the work.
Prisoners were the first to undergo the Graph procedure to enhance human abilities by grafting animal cells and neural tissue into humans. As a side effect, electrical pulses from animal brain waves would fuse—or Graph—into the human’s brain waves and form an intuitive bond with the animal. I struggled, kicked, and maybe even screamed before a team from Borran’s Animal Graph facility injected me with a sedative, their faces growing fuzzy, my hands grappling for something—anything—to hold on to, before I fell asleep in the arms of my enemy.
From under the thin layer of water, I watch the edge of the cliff, forty meters away, where two soldiers turn their heads left and right in a frantic search for me. I can see so much detail I shouldn’t, like the lines over their left chest pocket designating rank, and the mud splattered on the sides of their boots. Even the freckles splayed across the nose of one of them. They’ve been ordered to hunt me—to find me and then kill me, as part of their training. I feel weak, as if I could drown at any minute, because I can’t hold my breath any longer; surely I can’t. My brain tells me I need to breathe, and breathe now! Yet I’ll have to ignore the incessant thought creeping into my mind.
Maybe the water can take me, take my breath and end me, make it all come to a close. I’m exhausted, tired of running, and it’s been a year since I’ve seen my mother—Ariana, and my younger brother—Carlos. They were forbidden to visit me in the cell, as all visitors are nowadays. My padre and older sister, May, both died from illness six months before I was thrown into prison. It’s easy to die in this world where medicines are kept only for the Prestige—the upper class that makes up 3% of the nation’s population. The rest of us poor live in sporadic villages or face the nights alone, and food is hard to come by. Meat, including fish that survived all the radiation from the Atlantic or rivers, is supposed to be given to the village guards when they come in for their monthly visits. Villages only get to keep 5% of their catch. That’s why I stole that loaf of bread for my brother. He’d gone two days without eating. Some villages grow flax or chia seeds, and others wheat or barly, still some lucky ones have chickens and eggs—but it’s never enough. If we try hiding our fish or eggs, if caught—we’re killed on the spot. I’ve seen a family murdered when I was just ten in Guiana for storing forbidden meats. Because of the radiation, good meat is hard to come by.
Suddenly, my skin feels satiated, my lungs fill with air, and I’m not sure what’s happening or what I’ve done, but I can breathe. I take a breath and then another. I breathe as if I’m on land, except I’m not—I’m underwater. Then I suddenly remember I still have a chance at escape, because I’m not human anymore. I’m Graphed.
Two soldiers in my sight look over the cliff, their necks straining to get a better view, and then they turn away with a shake of their heads before retreating into the forest. I feel my chest ease with relief and take another deep breath of fresh forest air, nothing like the musty cell.
This hunt makes a kind of sadistic sense, in the mind of King Borran Khan. Many of his soldiers haven’t yet undergone the Graphing procedure; only his top soldiers—after years of experiments had ensured they’d survive it—have had the Graphing installed, but the more Graphing they’ve done, the less the soldiers obey orders. The very weapon the King designed to dominate the world has a flaw. The very animalistic features that make the Graph so strong also make it wild and unpredictable.
Still, both the Graphed and unGraphed soldiers need to know how to kill us: the illegally Graphed. If Borran is to secure his nation, he has to know how to kill his enemy. An enemy encroaching on all sides now, even from within. An enemy he himself had a hand in creating.
When I don’t see soldiers after several minutes, I swim to the edge of the lake and slowly crawl out, my knees heavy, and black garb—standard prison issue—as cold and wet as my hair. My hands clasp my ears as I hear insects annoyingly buzz around me at an intensity I can’t shut off, and crickets chirp, warning me of what’s to come. Nightfall will be here soon, and I have to find a secure place to hide if I’m going to survive. I’ll have to worry about my newfound Graph gifts later. Whether they’ve made me a freak or foe to the forest will have to come second to me finding safe cover for the evening.
After about ten minutes of searching, of pushing through tangled vines and large, fanning leaves, and even almost stepping on a horde of bullet ants, I abandon a ten-meter-high barrigona tree which won’t provide much cover even though it has good height. The huasai and palmito palms are surrounded by water, and I don’t want to be above black caimans snapping at me all night. Finally, after twenty more minutes, I find a walking palm, and though low on the ground, the tent-like structure of the tree rods will act as protection around me while I sleep. I’ll hear a wild animal—or solider—approaching before it gets me.
I drop to my knees and crawl between two tree rods shooting off the ground, and find the tree’s center. I relax my back against the far side of the rods and let my legs fan out before me and over the grassy mound just as a heavy rain starts to pelt, spreading a fragrance of wet birch. Then, a crest of tomato-red sun rays wisps over me in a dying breath before disappearing altogether. I don’t want night to come; I sit in the pitch black and can’t believe I’m still alive. Do Graphed targets ever make it past day one? My eyes again shift into something different from human. I feel the change like a wet sponge over my skin, and though subtle at first, the alteration soon becomes sure, and I notice anything that moves—a snake, a frog, a bird. My brain refuses to grow quiet, and I have to fight the urge to chase.
Like all of us in prison, I knew this day would come, that one day it would be my turn. Rumors circulated in prison after five hundred prisoners, taken four years ago, never returned. Some guards had seen things, and certain prisoners overheard gossip. Word got around fast. We all know now the experiments won’t ever end as long as there are prisoners and the King has more world to conquer. Borran will find enough reasons to imprison whomever he needs to ‘secure his nation.’ Besides, there are always improvements the BAG facility—the name prisoners dubbed Borran’s Animal Graph facility—wants to make to advance their product. Despite a growing fervor against these rumored experiments from animal rights groups and the PAPE (People Against Prisoner Experiments), they continue.
I awoke inside of the BAG facility with my wrists and ankles strapped to a cot in a medical facility in some remote forest, with wires and tubes connected to my brain and body. I only knew I was in the Amazon when I read a label on a passing cart carrying equipment. Images from the computer screens on the ceiling told me what I would become: part harpy eagle, part blue dart frog, and part imported Bengal tiger— but I still have no idea what my gifts will be, the BAG scientists could have focused on any number of the animal cells.
Over treetops, harpy eagles caw above me as I cower in the Amazon. The archaic sound soothes me somehow. I even heard harpy eagles squawk inside of BAG, nearby the cage. Chills rushed up my spine when the growl of Bengals echoed through my chambers. The animals have to be kept alive for their cells to be fresh enough to work with, and after the Graphing procedure to my cells behind my eyes, chest, throat and tongue—plus skin, ears, and even part of my brain—I knew I’d never be the same again, or I’d more likely be dead, after they succeeded in their goal.
Prisoners can’t be relied upon for fulfilling Borran’s missions. Missions are for military soldiers, some of whom have volunteered and some of whom have been forced into the system, then trained in combat and brainwashed to follow orders without question. The BAG facility will have no need of me once they acquire the results they want. Like all prisoners, I’m expendable.
I gaze up through the rods of the tree protecting me, wondering what Mama is doing, or even my younger brother, what they’ve done without me for a year. I used to walk Carlos to the market vendors to get food. He was safe with me. My padre taught me how to fight. Yet without me, he’d have to go alone or wait till Mama finishes work to go with him. Village work is hard and long, and with little pay if any. Work is commissioned by Borran, and offers nothing.
Tired of the unfairness when my family couldn’t afford food for a week, I stole the bread. A week where Mama spent ten hours working with other villagers to build a fence commissioned by Borran. Carlos was so hungry. It was either steal bread from a vendor, or venture into the forbidden Amazon and take illegal fruits. So, here I am. A prisoner.
Prisoners were used in secret experiments on behalf of securing the nation four years ago, but after these rumors got out about the procedure, resistance groups formed in France, Russia, and even within the Americas. Illegal Graphing facilities soon followed, even popping up inside of remote villages.
I try to sleep—to let my Graph take hold of me fully. I’ve discovered my eagle vision, which earlier allowed me to spot the soldiers’ details from forty meters away; and my blue dart frog, which kept me safe underwater with oxygen absorbed through my skin. I’ve even stumbled upon my Bengal tiger’s sensitive hearing and sight at night, both of which keep my mind more than active when I so desperately want to sleep.
Hiding between walking palm rods to keep safe from BAG soldiers set to kill me, I wonder how I’ll get out of the Amazon. My lids are heavy and I shudder remembering that about forty-two years ago today, South America became a part of ‘Americas the Great’ after a series of intense invasions and economic pressures from Truss, called the Two Years War in history books that no longer exist.
A melodic caw of what could be a stretched harp sounds overhead. My gaze captures the large frame of another harpy eagle, and the majestic bow as it dives into the treetops, and I’m fixated on its white crest sitting on top of its gray head. My lids flutter, half dreaming, as I stare at the creature, until suddenly a bellowing growl that could shake the Earth precedes a cracking crunch over branches. When a large red-spotted Radguar—with red eyes like blood—bangs against the rods of the walking palm where I’ve found my bed for the night, chills rush up my spine.
Each tooth is as large as the plant rods themselves are wide, and as sharp as a knife. The wild beast smells like wet leaves, and I rise to my feet as I jerk backward from its wide swiping paw. My instinct is to run, but I can’t. I’m pinned inside the walking palm, but at least I’m safe—for now.
The animal paces and circles my bed while growling in frustration, rubbing his head over the rods. I feel the coarse breath in my chest tightening, as if my chest is shrinking. Is it my Graph, or am I just scared? When I wrap my hands around the palm rods behind me for balance, the Radguar on the other side pushes his nose between two of the rods, his facial features drawing dangerously closer. His head is too big to fit between the rods, but he pushes, his jagged teeth showing like razors, as the weight of his body bends one of the rods with a crack and snap, and allows him to push further inside to the center of the walking palm. Each step produces a louder crunch of leaves underneath him.
I’m going to die. This moment will be my last. I take comfort knowing that nature—or its irradiated version—will be my killer instead of BAG soldiers. The thought offers me a sense of relief, and I feel I can even resign myself to the beast’s great power.
I’m ready to let him win, to give him one more victory over humankind.
He growls, a sound reverberating, and all I can hear is his sonorous roar telling me I don’t belong here. When his nostrils flare and his head shakes—saliva squirting everywhere—I close my eyes and let him end me. A wet nose nestles into my stomach like a tender kiss and my eyes flick open surprised. His head rests under my hands—as if he trusts me? I’m sure he’ll bite me, take a large chunk of flesh with him to enjoy—this submission must be some kind of a trick—but he doesn’t. He just sniffs and nestles, the wet nose wiping further against my skin. I’m sure now that my Graphed Bengal has just saved me, because tigers and Radguars mate at times in the Amazon, ever since their numbers were decimated, and I’m so grateful again that I’ve been Graphed.
I breathe heavily. I’m alive, not dead; and a Radguar who should have killed me, has not. As I look at this majestic creature who rules the forests and could kill a lion, I’m not sure if I’m fearful or curious. He could leave his deadly mark on me, but he doesn’t, and I’m humbled by his docility instead, something I don’t see much of in this harsh world.
Even King Truss Khan wanted to make his mark before he died. Seems all beasts do. Possess more land, more power—like a hunger that never ends. The world around us went into a frenzy when Truss took over South America forty-two years ago by force. Fear suffocated us all, of what he might do next. Soon, nuclear bombs became the shorthand for F-you. When bombs finally stopped dropping, over half the human population and animals were killed—four billion people—and half of those still living developed deformities from radiation poisoning. Most infrastructures of the world crumbled and everyone was left in the rubbled chaos.
Old rules—old bureaucracy—dissipated in the mayhem left behind. At age forty-three, Truss erected himself as the supreme ruler of ‘Americas the Great’. His reign could not be questioned and did not end for another forty-two hard years. Truss controlled North and South America, rebuilding the continents in his own image. Satellites in space remained, but few computers and communication devices were rebuilt during this period and usually for the purposes of control. A few vehicles and weapons were redesigned, but much of the old world was gone forever.
As I rest, I forget that the most dangerous beast of the Amazon—the Radguar—is in my lap when I let my eyes finally fully close. Hard to imagine something more dangerous than Truss Khan, that if they bumped into each other in the Amazon, Truss would be found with his head ripped off.
Maybe that thought eases me the most, gives me the most comfort—even if false. It’s hard to sleep at night without something to ease me. Memories of my third night in the cell always invade me.
…My back to the wall, my hands hitting, flailing, as two nondescript guards in blue-black uniform seize my space. Their hard fists pound my body before one kicks me in the stomach and my frail form falls to the cold concrete ground, my hands clenching my sore belly.
My mind goes black. I try to push the harsh memories out and squeeze the irradiated animal beside me for comfort. Animals aren’t like people; they don’t hide who they are. You know exactly what they want when they come to you. The Radguar keeps to my folded legs and then to my side when I have to go pee. If he hasn’t killed me yet, he isn’t going to and I know I can trust him. The soldier’s fear of the wild—of Radguars—will keep me safe from them, at least during the night, but then I’ll have to be ready to face the soldiers by morning, a morning that took twenty-two years to heal from damage of the nuclear war started by Truss.
When Truss finally died, his son Borran took over. Has been for the past four years. At sixty-two, Borran wants to infiltrate the world and own it, not destroy it as his padre had done. Over those first four years of the son’s rule, King Borran Khan has perfected what my world today knows as Animal Graphing.
M. Black's brand ENTER TOMORROW can be found at http://MBlackDystopianThrillers.blogspot.com and focuses on YA SyFy Dystopias. If you enjoy H.G.Wells, Divergent, The Giver, and Hunger Games then this author is for you!
M. Black is the pen name for Ami Blackwelder, who write paranormals with a side of apocalypse at http://AmiBlackwelder.blogspot.com, and has her BA in English and Montessori teaching degree. Having travelled Asia for ten years and taught, while building up schools from nothing, she returned home in 2010 and has been writing ever since.
Enjoy this unique voice with social relevance, dark and sexy characters, and captivating plots that don't let go until the end.
I learned a lot last year, and I decided to challenge myself with making this needlessly gimmicky landing page for my Perchance generators.
It's completely custom-made, from the animated background image based on a Hitman 3 screenshot to the handwoven CSS and HTML.
Don't ask me how many times I was THIS close to screaming, crying, throwing things.
There a still a few things I need to tweak, but it's good enough to share as is, and I need to overcome my stupid perfectionism anyway (she says, after having spent the last few hours adjusting one stupid margin).
I'm so happy with how it turned out, and I'm so glad I didn't give up when the needlessly gimmicky things I wanted to implement were more complicated than anticipated. :D
(I'm sure there's a lesson to be learned somewhere in here.)
The Hitman Prompt Generators need a major HTML overhaul, because three-years-ago me did absolutely not use semantic HTML, and it's quite frankly an accessibility nightmare.
Last night, I rectified whatever the hell I thought I was doing with the checkboxes. They're now set up to meet current accessibility standards.
Today, I'm ripping out all the old text elements and replace them with elements that carry semantic meaning. Fun! :D