#swiss cheese security
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How I got scammed
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security
I wuz robbed.
More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!
Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).
A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.
That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).
I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.
"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"
He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.
We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.
I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.
One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.
"That was the fraudster," she said.
Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.
Wait a sec.
He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.
I'd given him my entire card number.
Goddammit.
The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.
But I'd been conned.
Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:
https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/
That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.
Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.
I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.
Oh, shit, I'd been phished.
If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).
There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!
The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.
The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.
The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.
The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.
There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.
I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.
Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.
One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.
As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.
This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:
https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591
This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.
I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.
This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.
On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.
So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.
Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
Image:
Cryteria (modified)
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0
https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You)
First posted: January 25, 2019
Focuses on: Jason Todd and his various siblings
Favorite bookmark: "A variety of permutations and flavors of Robin h/c featuring Jason! The Baskin Robins of BatFam h/c, if you will."
Second favorite bookmark: "and so, step by step, the prodigal stray coaxes himself home."
Tier: #3 in hits & kudos & subscriptions, #4 in comment threads, #2 in bookmarks
This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Individual chapter notations below the cuts.
Chapter One
First, to note, the title came last and is from "Hey Brother" by Avicii because it was already on my BatFam playlist and gave me strong sibling feels, so it worked!
Okay if I remember correctly, this fic came about because 1) I had jotted down story ideas, all surrounding Jason, that were all just a bit too similar for me to feel comfortable doing them as one-offs, and 2) it was late 2018 when I start writing so I was deep in 5+1 IronDad fics.
This fic was so deeply indulgent from start to finish, which I think might be why people liked it so much? Like, if you're into the tropes into this fic, you're really into them. It scratches the itch just right, because it's my itch and I wrote it for me.
The plan was to do like I did for my other multi-chapter fics (except Nature and Nurture, RIP me) and write it all out before posting anything, so I could be sure that I would actually finish. I don't have that kind of self-restraint anymore. But it was a fun challenge to figure out what should happen to whom and in what order.
Jason didn’t sleep much anymore. He’d always been a rough sleeper, his years spent in low-security public housing and then on the street grinding away at his ability to rest with ease. He slept lightly, his consciousness skimming just below the surface, ready to spring awake at the softest noise.
As I've said before, sometimes I have an idea for a fic but then, when trying to start it, a sentence pops up immediately as my opener. That's always a wild ride because sometimes it seems to have nothing at all to do with where I want to go, so then I have to backtrack and figure out but why tho????
Moving to the Manor had helped some, after he’d assured himself that no one was going to scratch at his door or steal his shoes. The cold mornings had been the best, spent curled under a mound of the softest blankets imaginable atop a mattress so perfectly contoured to his bones that it’d felt like floating on the surface of a pool. He’d slept, truly slept, at the Manor.
I like the idea of, even at Jason's most toxic and vitriolic, the Manor itself still representing safety and comfort. Maybe sometimes he would twist it into stifling or grossly indulgent, but I think deep in his stomach he would know that distortion was a lie. The Manor was safer than anywhere else, even with his mom.
Those days of rest were long gone. The Pit had done a number on his brain—intensifying and altering his emotions, erasing some old habits and dialing up others, leaving dark chasms where memories should be.
I've seen other fics play with the idea of the trauma of Jason's injuries, death, resurrection, and the Pit all combining to some degree or another to swiss-cheese his brain (a phrase I lovingly borrow from Quantum Leap.) And that of course leaves a bunch of really fun room to play with—how much does Jason know he's missing vs. how much is gone or totally distorted without him even being aware? (Again, another thing I tease out in various fics like N&N.)
It was like someone had jammed a stick in his skull and given his brain a good stir. Or maybe that was just the crowbar.
Ha.
I made myself snicker with that one. It's so voiceily Jason but also that ha is so guttural and specific in my head, you all will never know.
He was making progress with his budding criminal empire—splashy progress, as displayed on the crusting cuffs of his sleeves and the splattered toes of his boots, but also more subtle progress, too. The subtle form was harder, so much harder, but he knew its changes would be more permanent, in the long run. Splashy got people talking. Subtle got them bowing.
Jason! Todd! Is! No! Thug! He is smart and cunning and uses violence to make an impact and that's that on that.
And though he’d heard her speak before in the careful neutral of the middle-class, the sounds being beat out of her now were Crime Alley crooked.
I like the idea of Steph and Jason growing up in the same neighborhood. It's not a hill I'd die on, but it makes for some interesting fic.
The girl put up a good fight. She was rough, no finesse, no real training. All knuckles and elbows and feet and knees. He spotted some of the Bat basics pop up in the way she ducked and spun, but she wasn’t lithe like Nightwing or crafty like the Replacement. She was a brawler. And she was losing.
She is who he might have been, without Bruce and Alfred and Dick. A decent fighter, stubborn, willing to brawl it out, but ultimately destined to lose.
It sucked in an abstract way, the way it sucked that someone was going hungry halfway around the world, the way it sucked when a stranger missed his bus. It sucked, but it wasn’t Jason’s problem, and he couldn’t really bring himself to care. B needed to learn to pick up his toys.
Starting with Steph made the most sense to me. She wasn't (and isn't) a member I know super well, with so much of her canon backstory being things I have no interest in, and she's part of the Family but in that awkward "we're maybe siblings but also I have a mom and also I dated one of you too??" ways, so she's got a little bit of distance, for me as a writer and also Jason. She doesn't have the emotional heat of the others. He doesn't hate her, just what she represents. He also doesn't care what happens to her, except—
The knife glinted in the amber streetlight and cast a shadow across the yellow emblem on her chest.
She's not Batman. She's not a Robin. She's Batgirl. And that's a different thing entirely.
Jason knew what they saw when they looked at him. He was big now, broad-shouldered and massive in a way he had only ever dreamed of being as a scrawny, malnourished street kid. His helmet was blood-red and gleaming, its angles sculpted to subtly suggest a skull. And his clothes were still stained with actual blood. He was an Alley myth, a nightmare with more bite than the Bat, because he wasn’t afraid to do real damage. He was death.
Jason Peter Todd is scary smart, and he knows how to make the exact impact he wants.
“I don’t know you, but I know your colors. You’re Ibanescu’s boys.”
I had to google Gotham crime families. I know literally nothing other than the name.
It was one thing to let her get the snot beat out of her. And even if someone else had taken a shot at her, he wouldn’t have minded. But he couldn’t. Not in that suit.
:3
“It’s not about you,” Jason repeated, his voice gravelly and rough. He pointed toward the yellow symbol on her chest, the symbol that, in the world he’d left, the world he remembered, belonged to someone else. “I owe her a debt. And now it’s paid.”
Jason was a murderer. A thief. A criminal. A drug lord. He had no illusions as to his own goodness anymore, no hope for redemption or grace. But he had his values, the few precious things that he would not allow. One of those, it seemed, was watch a man restrain and stab a Batgirl while he did nothing.
Someday I'll write more about that. The partner and friend and maybe mentor who was still reeling from trauma and hadn't yet found her way when Jason was snuffed out of existence.
Jason was tired, but the night was just beginning.
So that's where it starts. Jason tired, literally caked with dried blood, stepping in not because of love or hate or curiosity or concern but because he felt he owed a debt to someone else and that debt instead landed on the person in front of him.
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𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚘𝚕𝚖 - 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸
Warnings: +18, adult content, semi-erotic content, harsh language, dub-con, mild psychological torture, yandere vibes, slow burn.
Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton, @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic, @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @adamjf , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch, @whenimakeitshine1234, @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl , @ripleyswhore
Chapter 1
“But first” Claudio squeezed the flesh of her hip, making sure to apply enough pressure to make her feel his trimmed nails sinking into her skin.
It was a silent warning, she could feel the harshness of every word underneath his deadly grip. She would have to be careful with this one, he wasn’t completely under her spell as Mox was. And even though Yuta was dangerous, he was a minor one compared to the bald man.
She could see it in his eyes, as Claudio slowly released her flesh, that he wouldn’t think twice before hurting her.
And if she’d like to have any sort of advantage over these men, she would have to get at least two of them on her side.
“Let’s have our snack before it gets cold” Claudio grinned, his dark eyes sparkled with knowledge and a fake warmness that was meant to give her a false sense of security.
She knew that look all too well, being familiar with it ever since she was a child, she could sense it from a mile away. This one was smarter than Yuta and Mox together.
This one was going to be responsible for putting her acting skills to the test.
Claudio had brought them two grilled cheese sandwiches, a cup of coffee for himself, a cup of orange juice for her, and a small bowl of chopped fruits. Strawberries, kiwis, red and green grapes were the ones she could spot on the top of the porcelain bowl.
She slightly frowned, these were not only all of her favorite fruits but it was also intriguing to her how they had managed to find kiwi in her town.
The fruit is typically grown in temperate climates with mild winters and warm summers, and that was the exact opposite climate of her town.
All of the times she craved to eat the exquisite fruit, she had to drive at least 3 hours to the closest state with a temperate climate so she could find the sweet yet tangy-tasting fruit at the grocery store.
This was odd, to say the least. It was either an indication that they were distant from her town or that the men who kidnapped her came from somewhere far from where she lived.
“Do you like kiwis?” Claudio asks, suddenly curious about her apparent fixation over the fruit.
“Yes,” She nodded, momentarily licking her lips in order to try to fake a nervousness. “It’s one of my favorites…I haven’t eaten it in a long time”
“Well, ain’t today your lucky day?” The smile on Claudio’s lips was spine-chilling, like an owl’s hoot on a winter night. A bad omen for what was yet to come.
Her eyes found the deer’s head on the wall once again, it whispered softly to her, humming a familiar tune over and over like a broken record.
She felt it before she could see it, the sweetness followed by the tanginess and slightly acidic taste of the fruit against her lips, her eyes darted down to Claudio’s fingers, which held the piece of fruit against her bottom lip.
The once-friendly flavor now tasted hostile, aggressive, malicious, and venomous. The man before her had poisoned it with his touch, and nausea began to rise up her throat.
Staring at the Swiss man who was now face to face with her, she watched as his tongue darted out to collect the juices of the green fruit spread across her lips. She felt it, the warm and rough texture of the muscle tasting her skin. And before she could rationalize what had happened, the man whispered “Lay down”.
Her eyes fixated on his as he spoke:
“I’m going to ask you some questions, and for each correct answer I’ll reward you with some of your favorite fruits” Claudio smiled widely “Let’s begin”.
The winter wind blew against her wet skin, prickling and burning her delicate flesh. Uncontrolled shivers run through her entire body, a sharp pain constricts her lungs and pressure begins to install itself in her chest, making her already shallow breath become weaker with each drag of breath in.
Her eyes tingled with the unshed tears and her throat burned with the desire to scream through the howling wind.
“I can see your tears from here, dytyna. You’re not fooling anyone” Mykola laughs, pulling a long drag of his cigarette as she screamed at the top of her lungs “FUCK YOU!”.
The temper tantrum only served to make her father’s right-hand laugh louder, his combat boots sank into the snow as he squatted down, “Are you feeling better now? Good, now control your emotions from now on. You’re a smart kid, but you let your mind take over and that’s a terrible mistake. The last thing you want is to be your own enemy, got it?”.
She nodded weakly before Mykola snarled “I asked if you got it”
“Dobre, ya zrozumiv.” She answers, shaking violently as another harsh gust of wind hits her wet skin.
The Ukrainian man tossed the cigarette bud on the snow before helping her stand up from the floor, “Let’s get inside, we’re done for today”. Placing a thick blanket around her body, Mykola opened the back door of the warehouse and pushed her inside with him. A fluffy navy blue towel covered her head as he carefully dried her hair, “Can we go near the fire?” She asked with trembling limbs.
“No” Mykola softly pushed her down to sit on the old armchair, “You’re hypothermic, if we do that you’ll die. We need to warm up your body slowly, we’ll stay here for now, and as time goes by we’ll move closer to the fire”.
Mykola “Myko” Kolavenko was her father’s right-hand and her bodyguard ever since she was a child, he was the closest she’d ever get to a fatherly figure, and most of the time even being referred to as so by her. When she was 4 years old, Myko wanted to introduce her to martial arts as a way of discipline and self-defense, but her father completely forbade “Men are supposed to defend and fight, not women! I don’t want her to become a tomboy, Myko. She will fit the role God created her for, which is a woman who will be a wife, a mother, a nurturing figure” Was her father’s first and last statement about the subject.
After finding her in the kitchen crying over her father’s response, Myko sat beside her on the table, dried her tears, and whispered “Your father didn’t let us train your body, but he didn’t say we can’t train your mind”.
“What do you mean?” She looked up at him, hope written all over her innocent eyes.
“Means you’ll be able to beat me at poker” Myko winked, which made her giggle.
The memory made her smile and from the armchair, her eyes now settled on his wrinkled face. “Do you think I’m able to beat you at poker now?” She joked, teeth chattering as Myko placed another heavy blanket around her body.
The man chuckled, pulling an old chair in front of her so they could seat face to face, “Absolutely fucking not. At least not yet, you still have a long way to go before I even allow you near a poker table”.
“Why?” She frowned
“Because I don’t want to lose money” Myko winks with a smirk. He grabs a whisky glass and fills it to the brim with the amber liquid.
“Do you think I’ll ever be able to do it, Myko? To control my mind, I mean. Sometimes I feel like I’m stuck like it’s all for nothing. I don’t think I’m having any progress at all, and it’s fucking frustrating”.
Myko took a big gulp of the whisky and let the all too familiar burning feeling settle in his throat. “Training the body is easier than training the mind. After a few years of training you kill the receptive nerves of pain in your body and well, you become basically painless. Meaning it doesn’t distract you anymore, someone can punch you in the face and it won’t shock you or disorient you. Now the mind is way more problematic because it’s in constant change, as you grow older your mind and perception change and you have to adapt to a completely different reality. Compare yourself from 6 months ago to now, you’ve changed so much in here” Myko tapped her left temple, “And it will happen again 6 months from now, so you have to be able to adapt to everything, dytyna, because you never know what’s going to happen. The reason why I put you outside on a winter night in Kyiv and wetted your skin is to start to accustom your mind to be in uncomfortable and under pressure sceneries because that’s when your whole system becomes alert. Emotions appear all at once, your mind races due to stress, pain, and despair, and you either shut down or do something really stupid that will have catastrophic consequences so you have to learn how to act during times like this.
“You will register your feelings, your thoughts of despair and agony, but they won’t be what drive and guide you anymore because you’ll control them not the other way around. That’s the most valuable lesson you have yet to learn, divchynka. Control your mind before it controls you because if that happens, you’re doomed. Completely fucked”.
Myko grabbed another glass of whisky and filled it with the equivalent of two shot glasses, he handed the glass to her and she frowned in confusion. “It’ll be our secret” He winked as she took the cup in her hand.
“Here’s to not being completely fucked” Myko clicked their glasses together before smiling fondly “Happy 16th birthday”.
“Thank you” She smiled back, a hint of sadness hid behind her soft smile, “And thank you for not letting me spend today alone…it means a lot”.
“You can always count on me, dytyna. Even when I’m not there”.
And as the warm tears rolled down her cheeks, she felt Myko’s arms pulling her closer to a tight embrace.
Would Myko be proud of her? Not only of the adult woman she became but mostly of her approach to what was currently happening? Would he be proud of her Machiavelli-like persuasion, of her theatrical skills, and what about her ability to be cohesive? If he could see her now would he applaud her choices or curse her through her less appealing tactics?
“Everyone can lie, dytyna. But a valley is what separates a liar from a good liar. And a bridge is what separates a good liar from a magnificent liar. And that’s who you’re aiming to be: a magnificent liar. To a point where no one, not even me, can tell apart a truth from a lie”.
And that she had successfully achieved, if there was one thing she had learned from Myko from a very young age was to be a terrific liar.
That is her advantage over the Swiss man before her, he can have the wits and the strength, but she has the biggest advantage of all time: she knows how to lie.
#blackpool combat club x reader#blackpool combat club imagine#blackpool combat club fanfiction#stockolm series#jon moxley x reader#jon moxley imagine#claudio castagoli x reader#claudio castagnoli imagine#wheeler yuta x reader#wheeler yuta imagine#bryan danielson#jon moxley#claudio castagnoli#wheeler yuta
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Peter and the twenty suits and somehow that story contains tomato aspic? Color me intrigued
No, the aspic was an accidental confluence. But there was definitely tomato juice involved. (Also: not twenty. But a dozen, anyway.)
...So let’s turn our minds back to those thrilling days of yesteryear (i.e. 2008...). The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators kindly asked me to come be a keynote speaker at their yearly get-together, which that year was being held on the island of Hydra, in Greece. Leaving the honor of even being asked to one side, I’d never been to Greece, so I more or less instantly said “Yes!”
(Inserting a cut here. WARNING: this post contains: business travel, alcohol, and lemon zest.)
...Getting to Athens was going to be just a tiny touch complicated because at that point, none of the major airlines serving Ireland offered a direct DUB-ATH service. I thought about this for a while, and (since I’m on a frequent-flyer program with them) it seemed the most sensible way in and out of Athens was to take a Swiss flight to Zürich, stop there overnight if necessary, and catch the next convenient ZRH-ATH flight onward.
So Peter and I did that, and we went to Athens, and from there via catamaran ferry to Hydra; where I had a fabulous time conferring, confabulating and otherwise hanging out with my fellow wizards writers. And when that was all over, we regretfully started the process of heading home. (During the first leg of which process I cut an unexpected notch on my webmastering belt by actually doing website maintenance using a Nokia phone cabled to a laptop, while in the middle of the Saronic Gulf, on a hydrofoil.)
...Anyway. Back through Athens to the airport, uneventful flight from ATH to ZRH, train from the airport to Zürich Hauptbahnhof (the city’s main train station); did check-in for our morning ZRH-DUB flight there, while also checking our non-carryon bags through to the plane. Then, dinner at Hiltl Vegi, crash-and-burn at the favorite little hotel that’s about three minutes’ walk from Zuri HB, and up early the next morning for the train back to the airport: straight through security, and airside.
This version of “airside” was going to be a little more interesting for us than usual, because we’d been flown business class on this run. As a result we could get into one of the Swiss lounges, which are justly famous for their general poshness. More than that: since we were flying to a non-Schengen country, we would be leaving from the (relatively) new and shiny Terminal E.
So we did the underground people-mover underneath the runways and came out in the new terminal, and headed upstairs for the business lounge.
It was large; it was gorgeous. And the view out across the runways to the Alps was amazing. (Though that view was slightly impeded by what was, it was then said, the longest lounge bar in Europe.)
That was, granted, interesting enough. But our attention wasn’t primarily on that. What we were both most interested in when we first got there was a little something to eat and drink while we waited for the 11 AM-ish departure.
Now, this was long before that lounge had been renovated to contain a live open kitchen with hot and cold running chefs. In 2008 there were, however, free snack stations with assorted junk food—chips/crisps and pretzels and nuts, etc—and (that time of day) casual breakfast makings: cereals and milk, and mueslis and yogurts, and breads and butters and jams and cheeses and cold cuts and so forth.... such as you’d normally find in a central European breakfast buffet. There was also a coffee island nearby...
...and a drinks station with juices and sparkling water and soft drinks and beer and wine. Next to that one was a selection of basic alcohols and mixers.
...The lounge was pretty full of people that morning: a lot of business folk were apparently getting ready to board pre-lunch or lunchtime flights. A lot of them were up at the bar for coffee or whatever, and the bar staff had their hands full. We’d had our coffee and our breakfast, and then Peter looked over his shoulder at the juice-and-drinks setup, and said, “You know, I might have a Bloody Mary.”
“Okay,” I said. “Make me one too?” Because we were in no rush, and this whole situation was looking rather brunchlike. Why not complete the picture? “...And if they’ve got something like V-8, do mine with that.”
So over to the drinks installation P. went, rolled up his sleeves, scoped out the available supplies, gathered together the necessary ingredients, and started making Bloody Marys with his usual air of proficiency. (If you’ve ever been at a convention where he happened to be doing bartender duty—such as a Minicon or similar—you’ll know what I mean. A careful eye for appropriate ingredient amounts, and great thoughtfulness about seasoning.)
He made mine first, and brought it over to where we’d been sitting. And then he went back and started making his. I wasn’t paying much attention to that: I was mostly drinking mine and gazing at the Alps. (If you put me within sight of mountains, I’ll be staring at them. It’s what I do.) ...And eventually I turned around to see if he was done making his, because I was thinking maybe I might want another one.
Except I couldn’t see him. He was surrounded by suits. (Or, more accurately, people wearing them.)
He was making them all Bloody Marys.
Yeah, okay, the bar was busy. But apparently somebody had seen Peter using the bar measures at the drinks station to get the shot sizes just right, and saw him teaspoon-measuring the Worcestershire sauce, and doing the dash-of-Tabasco thing, and employing the lemon zester, and and and... They got suckered in by the air of expertise, is all I can suggest. Guys in suits (and a couple/few very well-suited ladies) had begun surrounding him and asking him questions, most of them apparently beginning, “Sir, what are you doing? What is that?” and “What are you putting in there?” ...and eventually, “Would you show me how?”, and/or “Would you also make one for me?”
...And so he did. What can I tell you? ...I couldn’t see him well, except when someone in the surrounding group moved aside a little. (They totaled ten or twelve people, finally, as they drifted in and out.) ...But there he was at the core of that group, surrounded by an extremely complex comics-style talk-balloon of queries in several languages (it was Switzerland, after all; just in-country, you’ve got five or more to choose from...). Some of those people were translating for other ones. And celery and tomato juice and Ireland and science fiction and Tabasco and Star Trek were being discussed (and V-8: turned out there wasn’t any...) and God knows what else. And all these nice people in suits, one after another, were being equipped with Bloody Marys.
Eventually the crowd thinned out to nothing, and finally Peter came back with his own Bloody Mary, and sat down, shaking his head. Then he showed me a little sheaf of business cards.
We went through them. Futures traders and a couple of publishing execs and a guy who worked sales at the company that builds Irish pubs for international export and the lady who brokered high-end underground rare-cheese storage and the guy who did logistics on worldwide custom transport of organs for transplant. And a lot of offers to “Call me/us when you’re in town and let me/us buy you a drink to thank you.”
I shook my head. “Networking?” was all I could find to say at last.
Peter shrugged. “With tomato juice.”
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What Would a Point and Click Adventurer Do?
@flashfictionfridayofficial
(tw cult, dark comedy)
The mysterious island, with its beautiful sparkling ocean and pink sky, held the next important item for Sierra Lucas. Shiny jewelry, strange tools, a taxidermied head, and so much more filled her endless inventory. But a missing slot was reserved for the elusive pink rat, held captive in a luxurious building with an eight pronged sigil and a capital S in-between two overlapping squares.
Sierra rapidly walked to the front, aimed her lips at the golden complex, and said "Golly, these guys aren't short on donations."
Her eyes bugged out and saw the building's security. Sierra needed to be stealthy and clever to distract the armed guards. She sifted through her inventory, saved her progress in a diary titled 'Bomb,' and hoped for the best. She was ready to chuck the bomb until the sizzle alerted the guards and she turned into Swiss cheese.
Thankfully she loaded back to before that horrible event, and went for another item, this time throwing a gem in front of the guards. The two bickered about who saw it first, became impetuously angry, and riddled the other with bullets. She quickly sauntered by and entered the building.
The interior was immaculate and large, yet the the doorways stretched out to cartoonish degrees and she felt she could see the other rooms and a staircase from how compact everything looked. The members were deathly nervous and smiled with gruesomely gummy grins while their eyes shifted like a compass. Any information from them about the pink rat was irrelevant.
"A pink rat? Why, that's the silliest thing I ever heard! Next you'll say it's behind that door there! Oh, and if you see our leader, would you tell him how good I was at lying?"
Sierra continued to browse the gawdy, Escher-esque pastel nightmare house until she saw a door labeled "Get out!" It seemed to be enough for an obedient population.
Sierra opened it and found the cult leader trying to seduce a younger follower. She didn't want to create a scene, so she pulled out her inventory again, and tried finding the subtlest way to dispatch him.
She jabbed 8 poisoned needles into him and he convulsed on the floor. Sierra smiled like a gleeful child.
"You know what they say, it's the dose that kills you, so I brought every dose just in case. Just like Dad taught me!"
Grateful for the rescue, the follower helped Sierra find the pink rat, sad and bored in its little cage as it played a tiny harmonica. Sierra briskly acquired the rat and headed off and wore the leader's clothes.
"My people, you are under new management! Leave now or I will smite and sic my lawyers on thee!"
Most fled but the higher ups chased her and wanted to silence her for seeing too much. The fake religion wouldn't stop until she was dead, and she knew they'd target her to the ends of the earth. She managed to get outside and block the door with the dead guards, but the cult heads kept banging to get out. With little to lose, she poked and prodded the rat for help.
The pink rat squeaked and raised its skinny forelegs out as if to pray. The door was sealed shut with divine rodent energy with a large rat stamp of approval. Sierra sighed in relief and kissed the rat for its help. She could continue her adventure without those duplicitous charlatans hounding her.
Yet her curiosity got the better of her and went through different saves and loads to see what would happen. She decided to throw ordinary table salt on the building and it exploded into a smoking pile of rubble.
"I had a feeling that would work! And no one important died!"
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Day 29: Not Allowed to Die
Captivity, torture, hand trauma [nailed to a table], suicidal ideation, begging, blood, crying, nonconsensual kiss, referenced shock collar, referenced memory issues, ableism, implied past and future noncon
[Follows A Wolf with No Name]
His handler wasn’t asking questions anymore. The Wolf didn’t have any answers to give. But that didn’t make him stop; the humiliation and the shame and the pain - it was inescapable. There was only one way the Wolf could think of getting out of this hell.
“You look terrible. Let’s get those nails out, hm?” His handle procured a hammer while the Wolf stared at his hands. His handler had hammered those nails through flesh, chipping bone to secure his hands to the table.
“Please…” His voice was so low, so soft - even without the collar the Wolf always feared the shock, the blinding pain. He wasn’t supposed to speak without permission, let alone beg. But he was too tired to care.
He needed this to stop.
“You say something, bitch?” His handler’s voice was disinterested, hammer teeth aligned to pull the first nail. It was freed in a single motion, the wound it left behind bloody and electric with pain.
“Please…” The Wolf repeated, voice raspy as tears began to streak down his bloodstained face. “Please kill me.”
He didn’t care how. His handler could beat him to death with that hammer, break every bone, rip him apart from the inside out - as long as it was the last time, as long as he died and stayed dead he didn’t care. He couldn’t break anymore, physically or mentally.
He just couldn’t.
His handler paused mid motion, a nail left half embedded in the Wolf’s hand as his handler stepped back. He regarded his project with unreadable eyes, amusement twitching at his face.
“Really? A few nails and you’re ready to throw in the towel? I thought I made you better than this, Wolf.” His handler laughed, ignoring his projects silent sobs. “I told you, you know - I told you I’d make you wish I killed you. Do you remember that? Or is that Swiss cheese brain if your’s missing that?”
“I remember, sir.” Partially, fragments of pain and blood and alien anger he wouldn’t dare grasp for now. He hadn’t believed his handler then. He should have.
“Well, then there’s your proof that I keep my promises. And I promise you, Wolf - ” His handler tangled his fingers in the Wolf’s matted hair, yet he so gently tilted the Wolf’s face up to meet his own. The kiss was rough and only lasted a few heartbeats, but still the taste of his handler’s cigarettes lingered on the Wolf’s tongue. “I won’t let you die. You don’t deserve that - that mercy. You are going to live, and if you listen to me, maybe one day you can do something to make up for your shitty, miserable life.”
“Please, please don’t - ” The Wolf cut himself off, mouth snapped shut with a whimper in his throat as his handler leaned in with a white toothed smile.
“You die when I give you permission to die; do you understand, bitch?” The Wolf gave a shaky nod, tear filled eyes trying to stare into the middle distance, to find that far away place where he could wait for a lull in the pain and the shame and the humiliation. His voice was hoarse, catching on his raw throat as he forced words from his uncooperative tongue.
“Yessir. Sorry sir.”
“Good boy. Now, don’t make a sound while I get the rest of these nails out. Save those for later, hm?”
His handler ruffled the Wolf’s hair and planted a quick kiss on his cheek, yanking out the next nail. The Wolf bit his tongue until it bled, swallowing back iron tinged spit between his hollow, soundless sobs.
[Before Vows]
(Part of my Freelancers: Swansong series)
Taglist: @stargeode
#whump#captivity#torture#hand trauma#suicidal ideation#begging#blood#crying#nonconsensual kiss#shock collar#memory issues#ableism#past noncon#freelancers#febuwhump#febuwhump2024#febuwhumpday29#we done o7 back to TWaTH AU and out of context canon
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This is to help y’all recover from this summit 
My versions of redacted GEN 2
If you guys like the small character profiles I’ve made I will continue  also, this is my opinion based off my headcannons for the listeners 
Sorry if the formatting is a bit everywhere
Shaw pack edition (I don’t own this art(i used a picrew) I haven’t had time to make any)
 Gabriel Shaw
“my father made this pack what it is today and I will do my very best to honor that legacy”-Gabriel Shaw
He/him/his
Age: 16 
Parents: David/Angel Shaw
Best friend: sparrow 
Favorite activity: when his dad takes him on a low level security job 
Favorite food: uncle Milo’s Swiss mushroom jackfruit  burger (don’t tell his dad)
Favorite color: “vampire gold~… I mean Ju-just gold I guess..I don’t know….why are you asking me?!”
He’s quiet, and at most times very formal, Takes alpha training VARY seriously (David and Angel are trying to help him ease up)
Loves writing poetry and stories in his free time, Does not have his drivers license (and is the only person in his age who isn’t allowed to get it till he’s 19)
Has his eyes on a particular vampire princess
————————————————————————
 another Shaw child
She/her/hers
Ashlyn Shaw 
“What do you think?……Caelum says cookies first”-Ashlyn Shaw
Age: 9
Favorite color: Green
Favorite activity: teasing her brother 
Favorite food: daddy’s bacon mac & cheese 
She is an actual menace (takes after her parent) when she was little little and just starting her menace tendencies, David would call her “Littler snot” 
Was the youngest of her pack to fully shift.
She can see caelum
————————————————————————
 she/her/they/them
Maria Greer jr (MJ for short)
“yeah, that’s GREER put some respect on the name”-MJ Greer
Age: 16
Has stealth abilities (but much like her dad sucks at shifting)
Best friend: Astrid Collins 
Parents: Milo/Sweetheart Greer 
Favorite food: “Law & order with a side of spite!…you can’t say that hun…Fiiine….BBQ rice bowl…”
Favorite activity: learning about history 
She wants to be a Reporter.
ABSOLUTE DADDYS GIRL
Loves hearing her dad tell the story of the inversion  but the way Milo tells it frames it so that she doesn’t actually know it’s him and she has made it her life‘s mission to figure out what happened that night  and the identity of the “mystery hero” her dad would tell her about 
————————————————————————
Sparrow Talbot
“I may or may not have ran face first into a tree….you didn’t see that”-Sparrow Talbot
Age: 17
Parents: Asher/Baabe Talbot
They/them/theirs 
Best friend: Gabriel
Favorite activity: wolf Zoomiez 
Favorite food: “last meal” no one knows what that means 
When they first adopted them they were very quiet, very calm, very chill. And then Asher shifted in front of them for the first time. And they have been a rambunctious dumbASS since then (and we love them for it)
They always have snacks and drinks on them, seemingly out of nowhere because they don’t carry a bag.
Unlike their father, they actually can cook and they’re pretty freaking great at it.
(all of the scars are from eating shit in wolf form, and not wanting to hear Marie’s lectures)
————————————————————————
Astrid Collins 
They/she/him
“and so what if I replace Alexis‘s shampoo with Nair…OH COME ON IT WAS FUNNY!”-Astrid Collins 
Age: technically 16
Favorite activity: snooping around places they’re not supposed to be (urban exploration)
Empowered: ???? Vampire+???
Best friend: MJ
Favorite food: “anything papa cooks is good I don’t really need to eat though”
Loves to play pranks mostly targeted at Alexis…….OK always targeted at Alexis. 
Sam found her one day when she was little and turned her then when he brought her home and got her through the newborn stage…. she started displaying elemental abilities??? But also vampire abilities??? But she also grows up and ages like a human???? so yeah bit of a mystery 
They are pretty standoffish  they don’t talk a lot and they’re pretty rough around the edges (Darlin who?)
Very attached to Sam (as you can expect) but also extremely attached to Darlin
he built his prosthetic himself  out of an old VCR, a broken toaster, a ripped up T-shirt and scrap metal 
————————————————————————
 And that was my next gen Shaw pack kids
Hope you enjoyed and give me suggestions on like little details for them and other characters (I really wanna do the damn crew but I need suggestions) i’m gonna say it again. These are based off of my headcannons for the listeners feel free to disagree with my opinion just don’t be mean about it (we’re just having fun here)
If you can’t tell, I was a Monster High/ever after high kid And I love writing shit like this 
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As much as I complain about the (at its core, justified) backlash to corporate AI going in counterproductive-at-best directions here, I would like to take a moment to talk about what I would like to see done about the problem of corporate swarming all over AI as a moneymaking fad.
First, I must address the true root of the problem: as we all know, a lot of the types of people known derogatorily as techbros jumped ship from cryptocurrency and NFTs to AI after crypto crashed...multiple times. Why AI? Why was it the next big thing?
Well, why was crypto the previous? Because it was novel and unregulated. Why did it crash? Because of the threat of regulation.
It is worth mentioning, at this point, that the threat of regulation ended up doing massive harm to people who used crypto for reasons OTHER than speculative investment scams. This included a lot of people who engaged in business that is illegal but lifesaving (e.g., gray-market pharmaceuticals), and people who engaged in business that is technically legal but de facto illegal due to payment processors hating it (e.g., porn and other online sex work) - i.e., a lot of extremely vulnerable people. Stick a pin in this, it will be important.
AI is a novel and largely unregulated field. This makes it EXTREMELY appealing to venture capitalists and speculative investors - they can fuck around and do basically whatever they want with little to no oversight, and jump ship the moment someone says "all right, this is ridiculous you CANNOT just keep pretending it's a rare fluke when your beefed-up autocomplete chat bot makes up garbage information, and the next clown who decides that a probability function trained on the ableism and pop-psych poisoned broader internet is a viable substitute for trained mental health counselors is losing any licenses they have and/or getting fined into bankruptcy." They've always been like this - when technology is too new for us to even know how we SHOULD regulate it, the greedy capitalists flock to it, hoping to cash out quick before an ounce of responsibility catches up to them, doubly so when it's in a broader field that's already notoriously underregulated, such as the tech sector in the US right now.
That tendency is bad for literally everyone else in the process.
Remember what I said about how the crypto crackdown hurt a lot of very vulnerable people? Well, developers aren't lying when they say that AI can have extremely valuable, pro-human applications, from AAC (which it's already serving as; this is, imo, THE most valuable function of ChatGPT), to health and safety - while we absolutely should not entrust things like reading medical images and safety inspections to AI without oversight, with oversight it's already helping us find cancers faster, because while computers are fallible, so are humans, and we're fallible in different ways. When AI is developed with human-focused applications in mind over profit-focused ones, it can very easily become another slice of Swiss cheese to add to one of our most useful safety models.
It can also be used for automation...for better, and for worse. Of course, CEOs and investors are currently making a hard push for "worse".
That's why I find it very important to come up with a comprehensive plan to regulate AI and tech in general against false advertisement/scams and outright endangerment, without cutting too deep into the potential it has for being genuinely good.
My proposals are as follows:
PRI. VA. CY. LAW. PRIVACY LAW. PRIVACY LAW. As it stands now, US law regarding online privacy and data security - which is extremely pertinent because most of the most unscrupulous developers are US-based - is at best a vicious free-for-all that operates entirely on manufactured "consent", and at worst actively hostile to everyone but corporate interests. We need to change that ASAP. As it stands, robots.txt instructions (and other similar things, such as Do Not Track flags) are legally...a polite request that developers are 100% allowed to just ignore if they feel like it. The entire mainstream internet is spyware. This needs to change. We need to impose penalties for bypassing others' privacy preferences and bring the US up to speed with the EU when it comes to privacy and data security. This will solve the problem that many are counterproductively trying to solve by tightening copyright law with more side benefits and none of the drawbacks.
Health and safety audits and false advertising crackdowns. Penalties must be imposed on entities who knowingly use AI in inappropriate and unsafe applications, and on AI developers who misrepresent the utility of their tools or downplay their potential for inaccuracy. Companies using AI in products with obvious potential hazards, from robotics to counseling, are subject to safety audits to make absolutely sure they're not cutting corners or understating risks. Developers who are found to be understating the limitations of their software or cutting safety features are subject to fines and loss of licenses.
Robust union protections, automation taxes, and beefing up unemployment/layoff protection. Where automation can and cannot be used in the professional sector should never be a matter of law beyond the safety aspect, but automation rollouts do always come with drawbacks - both in the form of layoffs, and in the form of complicating the workflow in the name of saving a buck. The government cannot make sweeping judgments about how this will work, because it's literally impossible for them to account for every possibility, but they CAN back unions who can. Workers know their workflow best, and thus need the power to say, for instance, "no, I need to be able to communicate with whoever does this step, we will not abide by it being automated without oversight or only overseen by someone we can't communicate with adequately, that pushes the rest of our jobs WAY beyond our pay grade" or "no, we're already operating on a skeleton crew, we will accept this tool ONLY if there are no layoffs or pay cuts; it should be about getting our workload to a SUSTAINABLE level, not overworking even fewer of us". Automation taxes can also both serve as an incentive for bosses to take more time considering what they do and do not want to automate, and contribute to unemployment/layoff protection (and eventually UBI). This will ensure that workers will be protected, even when they're not in fields as visible and publicly appreciated as arts.
In conclusion, the AI situation is a complicated one that needs nuance, and it needs to be approached and regulated in a pro-human, pro-privacy way.
#not art#needless to say this plan ALSO involves linking fines in general to income/revenue#so that small time developers arent bankrupted by an honest mistake of forgetting one (1) line of code#and megacorporations can't just go ''ohhh teehee oopsie-woopsie we made a fucky-wucky'' and pay 10% of what they earned by breaking the law#after their mining bot goes on a rampage and kills 7 human miners and blows up a national monument and poisons a reservoir serving 50k#because they took out a critical sensor and went ''its fiiiiiine the ai can operate on just cameras~''
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Google reneged on the monopolistic bargain
I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me TONIGHT in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and TOMORROW in SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!
A funny thing happened on the way to the enshittocene: Google – which astonished the world when it reinvented search, blowing Altavista and Yahoo out of the water with a search tool that seemed magic – suddenly turned into a pile of shit.
Google's search results are terrible. The top of the page is dominated by spam, scams, and ads. A surprising number of those ads are scams. Sometimes, these are high-stakes scams played out by well-resourced adversaries who stand to make a fortune by tricking Google:
https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/phone-numbers-airlines-listed-google-directed-scammers-rcna94766
But often these scams are perpetrated by petty grifters who are making a couple bucks at this. These aren't hyper-resourced, sophisticated attackers. They're the SEO equivalent of script kiddies, and they're running circles around Google:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
Google search is empirically worsening. The SEO industry spends every hour that god sends trying to figure out how to sleaze their way to the top of the search results, and even if Google defeats 99% of these attempts, the 1% that squeak through end up dominating the results page for any consequential query:
https://downloads.webis.de/publications/papers/bevendorff_2024a.pdf
Google insists that this isn't true, and if it is true, it's not their fault because the bad guys out there are so numerous, dedicated and inventive that Google can't help but be overwhelmed by them:
https://searchengineland.com/is-google-search-getting-worse-389658
It wasn't supposed to be this way. Google has long maintained that its scale is the only thing that keeps us safe from the scammers and spammers who would otherwise overwhelm any lesser-resourced defender. That's why it was so imperative that they pursue such aggressive growth, buying up hundreds of companies and integrating their products with search so that every mobile device, every ad, every video, every website, had one of Google's tendrils in it.
This is the argument that Google's defenders have put forward in their messaging on the long-overdue antitrust case against Google, where we learned that Google is spending $26b/year to make sure you never try another search engine:
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2023-10-27/google-paid-26-3-billion-to-be-default-search-engine-in-2021
Google, we were told, had achieved such intense scale that the normal laws of commercial and technological physics no longer applied. Take security: it's an iron law that "there is no security in obscurity." A system that is only secure when its adversaries don't understand how it works is not a secure system. As Bruce Schneier says, "anyone can design a security system that they themselves can't break. That doesn't mean it works – just that it works for people stupider than them."
And yet, Google operates one of the world's most consequential security system – The Algorithm (TM) – in total secrecy. We're not allowed to know how Google's ranking system works, what its criteria are, or even when it changes: "If we told you that, the spammers would win."
Well, they kept it a secret, and the spammers won anyway.
A viral post by Housefresh – who review air purifiers – describes how Google's algorithmic failures, which send the worst sites to the top of the heap, have made it impossible for high-quality review sites to compete:
https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/
You've doubtless encountered these bad review sites. Search for "Best ______ 2024" and the results are a series of near-identical lists, strewn with Amazon affiliate links. Google has endlessly tinkered with its guidelines and algorithmic weights for review sites, and none of it has made a difference. For example, when Google instituted a policy that reviewers should "discuss the benefits and drawbacks of something, based on your own original research," sites that had previously regurgitated the same lists of the same top ten Amazon bestsellers "peppered their pages with references to a ‘rigorous testing process,’ their ‘lab team,’ subject matter experts ‘they collaborated with,’ and complicated methodologies that seem impressive at a cursory look."
But these grandiose claims – like the 67 air purifiers supposedly tested in Better Homes and Gardens's Des Moines lab – result in zero in-depth reviews and no published data. Moreover, these claims to rigorous testing materialized within a few days of Google changing its search ranking and said that high rankings would be reserved for sites that did testing.
Most damning of all is how the Better Homes and Gardens top air purifiers perform in comparison to the – extensively documented – tests performed by Housefresh: "plagued by high-priced and underperforming units, Amazon bestsellers with dubious origins (that also underperform), and even subpar devices from companies that market their products with phrases like ‘the Tesla of air purifiers.’"
One of the top ranked items on BH&G comes from Molekule, a company that filed for bankruptcy after being sued for false advertising. The model BH&G chose was ranked "the worst air purifier tested" by Wirecutter and "not living up to the hype" by Consumer Reports. Either BH&G's rigorous testing process is a fiction that they infused their site with in response to a Google policy change, or BH&G absolutely sucks at rigorous testing.
BH&G's competitors commit the same sins – literally, the exact same sins. Real Simple's reviews list the same photographer and the photos seem to have been taken in the same place. They also list the same person as their "expert." Real Simple has the same corporate parent as BH&G: Dotdash Meredith. As Housefresh shows, there's a lot of Dotdash Meredith review photos that seem to have been taken in the same place, by the same person.
But the competitors of these magazines are no better. Buzzfeed lists 22 air purifiers, including that crapgadget from Molekule. Their "methodology" is to include screenshots of Amazon reviews.
A lot of the top ranked sites for air purifiers are once-great magazines that have been bought and enshittified by private equity giants, like Popular Science, which began as a magazine in 1872 and became a shambling zombie in 2023, after its PE owners North Equity LLC decided its googlejuice was worth more than its integrity and turned it into a metastatic chumbox of shitty affiliate-link SEO-bait. As Housefresh points out, the marketing team that runs PopSci makes a lot of hay out of the 150 years of trust that went into the magazine, but the actual reviews are thin anaecdotes, unbacked by even the pretense of empiricism (oh, and they loooove Molekule).
Some of the biggest, most powerful, most trusted publications in the world have a side-hustle in quietly producing SEO-friendly "10 Best ___________ of 2024" lists: Rolling Stone, Forbes, US News and Report, CNN, New York Magazine, CNN, CNET, Tom's Guide, and more.
Google literally has one job: to detect this kind of thing and crush it. The deal we made with Google was, "You monopolize search and use your monopoly rents to ensure that we never, ever try another search engine. In return, you will somehow distinguish between low-effort, useless nonsense and good information. You promised us that if you got to be the unelected, permanent overlord of all information access, you would 'organize the world's information and make it universally accessible and useful.'"
They broke the deal.
Companies like CNET used to do real, rigorous product reviews. As Housefresh points out, CNET once bought an entire smart home and used it to test products. Then Red Ventures bought CNET and bet that they could sell the house, switch to vibes-based reviewing, and that Google wouldn't even notice. They were right.
https://www.cnet.com/home/smart-home/welcome-to-the-cnet-smart-home/
Google downranks sites that spend money and time on reviews like Housefresh and GearLab, and crams botshittened content mills like BH&G into our eyeballs instead.
In 1558, Thomas Gresham coined (ahem) Gresham's Law: "Bad money drives out good." When counterfeit money circulates in the economy, anyone who gets a dodgy coin spends it as quickly as they can, because the longer you hold it, the greater the likelihood that someone will detect the fraud and the coin will become worthless. Run this system long enough and all the money in circulation is funny money.
An internet run by Google has its own Gresham's Law: bad sites drive out good. It's not just that BH&G can "test" products at a fraction of the cost of Housefresh – through the simple expedient of doing inadequate tests or no tests at all – so they can put a lot more content up that Housefresh. But that alone wouldn't let them drive Housefresh off the front page of Google's search results. For that, BH&G has to mobilize some of their savings from the no test/bad test lab to do real rigorous science: science in defeating Google's security-through-obscurity system, which lets them command the front page despite publishing worse-than-useless nonsense.
Google has lost the spam wars. In response to the plague of botshit clogging Google search results, the company has invested in…making more botshit:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/16/tweedledumber/#easily-spooked
Last year, Google did a $70b stock buyback. They also laid off 12,000 staffers (whose salaries could have been funded for 27 years by that stock buyback). They just laid off thousands more employees.
That wasn't the deal. The deal was that Google would get a monopoly, and they would spend their monopoly rents to be so good that you could just click "I'm feeling lucky" and be teleported to the very best response to your query. A company that can't figure out the difference between a scam like Better Homes and Gardens and a rigorous review site like Housefresh should be pouring every spare dime it brings in into fixing this problem. Not buying default search status on every platform so that we never try another search engine: they should be fixing their shit.
When Google admits that it's losing the war to these kack-handed spam-farmers, that's frustrating. When they light $26b/year on fire making sure you don't ever get to try anything else, that's very frustrating. When they vaporize seventy billion dollars on financial engineering and shoot one in ten engineers, that's outrageous.
Google's scale has transcended the laws of business physics: they can sell an ever-degrading product and command an ever-greater share of our economy, even as their incompetence dooms any decent, honest venture to obscurity while providing fertile ground – and endless temptation – for scammers.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task
#pluralistic#monopoly#seo#dark seo#google#search#enshittification#platform decay#product reviews#spam#antitrust#trustbusting
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Tell me about security, Makoto. This is going to be useful information, I'm sure.
Right, you were telling me that before. This is the front chamber. We can just sorta walk in, and from here we can use this intercom to buzz Huesca, for business purposes or to irritate him for fun.
Fascinated by the couches on either side of the room. What possible function could this room serve that necessitates cushy reclining opportunities? If anything, I'd think they make it easier to hang out for a bit and wait for Huesca to come out so you can harass him in person.
Is that why he stopped leaving the lab?
Okay, but why tho.
No, I get that. You go through the door and the deadly killing machines turn you into swiss cheese. Huesca was clear on that point.
But. Like. Why not lock it anyway? What's being accomplished by not locking it? You said Huesca hasn't left the lab in months so it's not like it'd inconvenience him to lock the door. What's the purpose of leaving it unlocked?
Did your evil lab architect accidentally forget to put a lock on this door? So now the deadly trap chambers are the Villain Lair Design equivalent of brushing yourself off from a faceplant and going, "I, uh, I meant to do that."
Went so hard on designing the three deadly trap rooms that one of them isn't actually a trap at all; It's just there to insulate the rest of the lab from the fucking traps.
Y'all know there are a copious amount of deadly traps that don't get bored and wander? This seems like an unnecessary risk to take.
Weird judgment call to make. Any intruder that manages to penetrate this deep into y'all's business is worth interrogating. Can't interrogate a corpse. Huesca seems more concerned with weird spite than his own self-interest.
...given our brief conversation with the man, that checks out.
So you'd need to go full scuba to get past the gas. Can't trust a filter; You need a fully-sealed oxygen supply.
And not just the mask; We're talking full diving suit. Big goofy helmet and everything.
*snaps fingers* I've got it. Shachi killed Dr. Huesca. Case solved. :P
So. It's. Like. Most gases, then. I guess that can be considered a failure, sure. Huesca's in there kicking himself for not managing to create gas that retains its shape indefinitely.
Which means a Person of Interest could be killed by this room but still go on to do things that will affect the case before they go. We need to keep that in mind.
The hell does that mean? What kind of offensive capabilities does a room full of death deep in your facility offer? Do you hand out invitations to political enemies like, "Hey, come get state secrets, they're in this one specific room! It's going to be left conspicuously unguarded because it's Yomi's birthday and everyone's off celebrating! Now's your chance!"
What kind of hideous Resident Evil dystopia is poor Fuckboy working in? Even though the lab is guarded by the ultra-deadly super-gas emitters, you still have to play laser Simon to even enter the lab.
Why is the keypad the floor? That's so obnoxious. This hallway was designed by rich assholes with no concern for the employees that would have to work here.
...so, Amaterasu, basically. That checks out.
Which means there's no password reset if he forgot it. Maybe that's why he never leaves the lab anymore. If he admits that he should have written it down somewhere, he'll lose the bet and have to pay Yomi 3,000 shien.
Definitely safer to stay in the lab forever and normalize shitting down the garbage chute. It goes straight to the incinerator; It's fine. Huesca lives here now.
He's lying to you. He wants to kill intruders for funsies. Severity of punishment doesn't act as a deterrent; Likelihood of getting caught does. As much as I hate to give Yomi credit for anything, the officers patrolling the halls are doing more to deter intrusion than a secret gas chamber they wouldn't even know about until it's too late.
Huesca is one of those guys who buys a semiautomatic rifle and the highest caliber ammunition he can find "for home defense", then gets excited and breaks out his gun every time the house creaks. He'll swear up and down that it's for self-defense, but the way he gets that gleam in his eye when he talks a little too-enthusiastically about the kind of damage his weapon can do is a bit unsettling, isn't it?
I just assumed. It'd be a pretty shitty deathtrap if the gas chamber's activation immediately flooded Huesca's lab and killed him dead on the spot.
Do you have to clear all nine? Like, step on every panel, but in a specific order? Because if so, there's a very finite number of combinations that are possible.
Oh my god he has a bathroom with a washing machine and everything. I thought I was joking but no, he really did move in permanently.
Well that's anticlimactic. So this lab is immensely lethally secure but only so long as there's someone in it. If the doc steps out for five minutes, you can walk right on in and wait for him.
Maybe that's why he stopped leaving. He realized that the security features only protect the lab when he's inside of it; A fatal error in its design that he doesn't want to own up to.
And there we have the answer to the mystery of the couches. They are, in fact, for lounging around and waiting for Huesca to come out so you can harass him with nonsense. A favored pastime of Makoto's.
Look at how this couch is perfectly sized to his exact proportions. This is Makoto's Harassing Couch.
So he was told to stop working on something, so naturally he sealed himself in his lab and worked tirelessly as you do when you quit a project. That's what you're going with, Makoto?
Come on, man. You're not this stupid. Well, at least we now have the full details, so we can--
Deal with whatever this asshole's on about now. What's up, man? Did you finally remember you were supposed to have me buried in the backlot behind the office? Too late now, I've already met your fancy researcher. We're friends now.
You can go ahead and ask him but you'll have to phrase it in ten words or less. Given how much you love the sound of your own voice, I'm not sure if that's something you're capable of.
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Dubious Benefits
Pairings: Claudio Castagnoli x Fem!Reader
Warnings: +18, smut, slight degradation, dirty talk.
Editor: @thenightmareismyreality
Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @melissahausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @moxkindagirl , @sunshinevirus , @im-just-a-mississippi-girl
“I need to find someone to fuck, no strings attached, so I can get rid of this stress before I have a heart attack!” That was the statement that started this mess over a year ago.
They started this as good friends, but then that friendship started coming with, shall we say, benefits. Perks if you will, that would eventually complicate things, but for the time being, were pretty handy and mutually beneficial.
She needed a distraction, just a few hours where her mind could shut off, and she would only have to listen to her body’s needs and be fully in the moment
Claudio on the other hand needed intimacy. Over the years, he had grown tired of fucking random women without any kind of attachment. Sure it was nice back in the day, but now he needed more.
“I need something more than that. I need the security, the intimacy of just laying around in a comfortable silence, enjoying someone else’s company without it being awkward or uncomfortable. I want to be able to have a nice conversation before and after the fucking, maybe have casual talks while we cook dinner or watch tv. I want someone who knows me and will fulfill me emotionally too, not just physically. Is that weird?” He asked before looking at her while she sat across from him on the couch.
“No, it’s not” She hid her teasing smirk behind a handful of cheese puffs “You’re just getting old, my dude”
She couldn’t hold back her laugh though when the pillow that was resting on top of Claudio’s thighs hit her perfectly on the head, messing up her hair before it fell on top of the rug.
Claudio was always dressed in his best attire whenever he came to visit her.
She even teased him once, saying that he should show up dressed in sweatpants for a change so that she didn’t feel like this was becoming some kind of a serious relationship.
“I only dress equivalent to the beauty of the woman I am visiting, biberli” He winked
“Why do you call me that, by the way? Is that some sort of secret curse word used by Swiss people that I’m not aware of?” She teased, with a chuckle
“No” Claudio grinned, “Biberli is a sweet, it’s two slices of sweet gingerbread held together with a sticky honey-almond filling. It’s like you, sweet and soft on the inside but also has that spicy outside that has my mouth watering” He playfully growled, before running after her up the stairs to her bedroom.
The cherry lip tint that she applied had begun to dry up when the doorbell rang. She ran barefoot to the front door, her hand closed around the doorknob and she opened it to find a large bouquet of red and white roses.
“Great, now you bring flowers too?! Can you be less perfect, please? For my heart's sake” She teased with a smirk
“Wow, you look gorgeous!” Claudio smiled widely, making her cheeks feel hot from embarrassment. He handed her the flowers and she thanked him before stepping aside so he could come in.
“I’ll put this in a vase” She stated, while walking towards the kitchen “Make yourself at home, ok? I just need to grab a few things and then we can go”
After setting the flowers on top of the counter she turned around to find Claudio standing behind her
“Jesus, you scared me” She chuckled.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. But you forgot to give me something”
“Oh, shit. You want something to drink? Sorry, I didn’t hear you asking for anyth-“
Claudio took one step forward, trapping her body in between himself and the counter. His hands were inside his navy blue dress pants pockets and as his head leaned down, she felt herself drowning in his scent.
“Schmatz” Was the only thing he whispered against her lips.
She gave him a soft peck on the lips and Claudio leaned back, giving her the false impression that he would let her step aside. Once she did, he hooked his finger around the belt loop of her flared pants, quickly pulling her back to her previous position.
Claudio’s hands cupped her cheeks and held her head in place as he captured her lips in a needy kiss.
“If I remember correctly a ‘schmatz’ is a peck on the lips” She giggled breathlessly as he pulled her closer to his body. Claudio’s hands traveled down her curves, marking their favorite path down her body.
“It is. But I couldn’t help myself” His hands cupped her breasts through the light pink satin tank top seconds before his fingers pulled the spaghetti straps down her shoulders.
Claudio’s lips gave open mouth kisses to her neck, traveling down her body and taking the same path his fingers had traced mere seconds ago.
“Shit” She moaned when his tongue traced small circles on the sensitive points of her neck and collarbone “You know that if you keep this up we're going to be late, right? And you hate being late”
Claudio’s tongue traced a lined from her neck to her chin until he reached her bottom lip “I do” He whispered “That’s why I came to pick you up 3 hours early”
She felt him smirking against her lips before she cackled “Oh, so you purposely came early so you could take advantage of me? Where did all that chivalry of yours go, Mr. Castagnoli?”
“I am a gentleman, biberli” Claudio placed her on top of the kitchen island and slowly began to pull her pants down her legs “I treat women as they wish to be treated. It’s not my fault that you love being treated like a cheap slut who gets fucked on top of a kitchen island, in broad daylight, with the curtains wide open for all the neighbors to see” His small shrug only caused her to chuckle.
“Asshole” She teased, being taken by surprise when Claudio ripped her emerald colored lace thong and placed it in his dress pants pocket.
“Not right now, biberli. I missed your pussy way too much to fuck you in the ass. But if you behave like a good girl for me, then maybe I’ll think about fucking your ass the way you like it later tonight”
Claudio tapped his tip against her clit, making her whine his name and pull him closer.
The only word her brain could form was “Please”
“Please, what? You have to be more clear than that” He chuckled and mocked, mimicking her voice “Please, sir, put your cock in my pussy, I need it in me” Claudio laughed when she narrowed her eyes at his mockery. He continued to rub his tip against her clit and continued:
“Or perhaps it’s: ‘Please, sir, fuck my ass’. Which one is it, Bibi?”
“What about: please sir, shut the fuck up because your mouth is ruining my mood?” She retorted as she plastered on a fake smile.
Claudio chuckled, pressing his tip against her entrance and thrusting his hips forward ,he felt her walls beginning to close around him as he spoke “If I wasn’t so horny right now, I would show you exactly how well my mouth can ruin you, biberli”
“Is this your way of telling me you missed fucking me and your hand wasn’t enough to give you relief? Aww, look at that, the old man really is a softy” She teased, lips spreading into a wide smile once she felt his stubble scraping the delicate skin of her neck.
“Old man?” Claudio laughed breathlessly “Tell me, who got you this wet by just speaking a few words to you, bibi?”
“You did, old man” She teased again “Unfortunately you’re that good”
“Unfortunately? Is this a burden to you? Are you performing an act of charity for an old man in need? Should I leave?” Claudio smirked, as he rolled his hips before thrusting deeply in her. His pace changed from insanely fast to slow and deep whenever he felt himself or her getting close to the edge.
“Fuck” She moaned against Claudio’s lips “You’re not allowed to leave until you give me a handful of orgasms and food, old man”
Claudio captured her lips as his pace gradually sped up. Their tongues danced slowly around each other, lips getting sucked, pulled and nibbled on.
“So you just want me for my dick and wallet? Rude”
They laughed in sync as Claudio’s nails sank into the skin of her hips. She could feel the burning sensation of his scratching on her skin, and she reveled in the feeling of his primal urges.
“I don’t care about your wallet, but I do love your dick” She teased breathlessly, her arms closed around Claudio’s neck to pull him closer. “Although you have some other qualities that are pretty amazing too”
“Really? And what are those?” Claudio pulled back to look in her face, his hips thrusting back and forth slowly as he pushed her sweaty hair away from her face.
“Your ego is already humongous and very hard to deal with, we don’t need to make it even bigger” She cackled
“But you just said that you love my cock” He pouted playfully, causing her to take a quick bite into the pumped flesh
“I hate you” She laughed before asking “Faster, please. I want faster, fuck me hard”
Claudio’s head buried itself in the crook of her neck, with his hands gripping tightly to handfuls of flesh on her hips as he held her in place.
She never knew a man could be this fast until they began to have sex. Claudio was a fucking machine in the flesh, the positions and pacing were worthy of a sex god. She didn’t know how he could do all of this but fuck was he amazing! Not only as a lover but as a friend, as a person, as a man…she was certain she would never be able to find a man as perfect as Claudio in her life.
“I missed you so fucking much” He whispered against her cheek. One of his hands traveled down to her mound, circling her clit and adding the needed pressure to help her cum faster.
“I missed you too” She whispered back, hands cupping his cheeks, eyes searching him with need. “I can’t hold it anymore, Claudie. Please”
Claudio’s hips settled for a new pace again, only this time, torturously slow. He dragged himself in and out of her without a hurry, his dark eyes focusing on her face and savoring her every feature, as he felt himself getting intoxicated in her beauty and being. She was the sun to his gloomy days, her sarcastic humor was a remedy for his seriousness, her loud and over the top laugh was a siren that brought him back to reality when everything else managed to overwhelm him, her touch was comforting like a warm blanket in the freezing winter, her smile hid the perfect amount of teasing and sweetness that constantly reminded him to not take things so seriously, her child-like spirit taught him how let things go every once in a while, her kind heart lull him to peace when his perfectionist traits began to haunt him, her body was like a glass of water in the screeching sun, and her being summed up everything he wished to find in a partner.
Claudio’s hips froze in place,as he stood there, buried inside of her, hands touching her skin, eyes wandering around her face, and for an instant he caught himself asking *Is this what it feels like? Is this how…*
*True love feel like?* She finished the same question in her mind, before they leaned forward to each other’s lips to find the answer.
#claudio castagnoli x reader#claudio castagnoli imagine#claudio castagnoli#blackpool combat club x reader#blackpool combat club imagine#blackpool combat club#masochist writes
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Jeremiah "JJ" Mitchell Game Mechanics
Weapons
Ruger Security 9
Heckler & Koch HK414
Glagolev-Shipunov-Gryazev GShG-7.62 rotary machine gun
Fighting Style
MCMAP
Appearance
Standard outfit is a dark dress shirt with a ceramic plate carrier (with patches) over the top. Black cargo pants, combat boots, and fingerless kevlar gloves.
Customizable Options
Patches
Pistol
Plate Carrier
Intros
Air Support - The cargo ramp of a jet drops and JJ walks casually down into the arena.
Well Decorated - JJ slaps a US Flag patch onto his plate carrier and pats it before turning his attention to the enemy.
Heavy Gunner - JJ tinkers with his GShG 7.62 before glancing up and walking into the arena.
End of Round Taunts
USA! USA! - JJ plants a US flag near the downed opponent and salutes.
Color Guard - JJ does a series of intricate flips of his rifle before holding it in an idle pose.
Sucks to Suck - JJ throws his head back in laughter and then shakes it before retreating backward to combat position.
Fatal Blow
Shredded - JJ equips his GShG-7.62 and shreds through the opponent's knees, then approaches and puts his pistol under their chin and fires.
Friendship
Supply Drop - A jet drops a supply crate, which JJ opens, rifles through, and produces a stuffed animal, which he holds toward the camera.
Fatalities
Swiss Cheese (Mid) - JJ produces his GShG 7.62 and fires through the center of his opponent until the audience can see through their middle with their spine exposed. JJ then approaches and kicks through their spine, which folds them in half.
Second to None (Close) - JJ sprints at the opponent, shoots their knees out with his pistol, and then as they're on their knees with their head bent low, JJ spears an American flag through their skull and into the floor. Their head slowly slides down the pole until they're flat on the ground and he salutes the flag.
Kharacteristics
JJ is slow, but a heavy hitter. His GShG 7.62 can be used as a special attack, but the aim is sporadic, though when the bullets do hit, they do significant damage.
#oc jj#oc jeremiah mitchell#mortal kombat ocs#mk ocs#based on Alex's game mechanics#idk if you know this but the 'second to none' is a reference to a joe biden speech lmfaooooo#'WE ARE AMERICA!! SECOND TO NONE!!'
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“British cheese exports will from 1 January default to the non-EU tariff-free quota, of which about 95% is already spoken for by Norwegian and Swiss producers, among others.”
Johnson wrong (lied) again
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Shadows of a Nightingale
[Dreamwidth]
-
It was meant to be a normal, vaguely boring trading mission for resupplying things like flour and finding out more about Ancient technology littered around their new home. He thought by now they'd have learned that "peacefully rural" in the Pegasus galaxy actually meant "Genii involvement, back away slowly and with lots of C4," but apparently not.
-
Elizabeth frowned at him worriedly, an arm's reach away as Radim and the random soldier he had scrounged up did their best Cinderella impression to turn him into a villain. They're going to turn me into Swiss cheese, he thought unhappily, Why am I doing this, again?
"And you can be sure they won't recognize him?" Elizabeth asked Radim, "A uniform is enough?"
For a brief, deeply visceral moment, he debates bricking the Genii gate with a computer virus. Only temporary, of course - a time-out, if one would borrow an oversimplified phrase. But he looked at Elizabeth, and how she was crossing her arms to prevent herself from reaching out, and reminds himself that if they could take the simple route, then his team would have already made their way home with scientists in tow.
He glances at the Genii soldiers arrayed around them that had Radim's personal reassurance wouldn't shoot him in the back as soon as he stepped through the gate, and the Atlantis soldiers keeping a closer eye on Elizabeth than himself. Sighing, he reminded himself that they had already deployed a team of their own behind Radim's back with some requisitioned Genii uniforms at a midway planet to buffer Atlantis from unexpected guests. There wouldn't be a signal, of course, not this deeply entrenched in unambiguously enemy territory, but if they missed check-in, that would suffice for communication.
Someone handed him a pistol, and he ignored Elizabeth's instinctive swerve away from it, checking the weapon and slotting it into the holster at his hip with a motion that was only smooth from the amount of practice he had. Radim looked impressed, and he graciously refrained from making a face at the man. It wasn't Kolya, but he would take this shove-in of a political upstart over someone who had no such qualms about being decent.
"Elizabeth," He said, frowning at her, "It'll be fine."
"Don't go sounding like John, now," Elizabeth chided, falling back on humor, knocked back on her pedestal by his irreverence, "I still want those reports in from your people."
"As soon as I fire them," He muttered, wishing he hadn't lent them to Sheppard for protection. The colonel was great at what he did, but his survival instinct left something to be desired. And around other people who had barely stepped through a gate before in their lives? He should have anticipated the amount of trouble that would happen, "They're going to wish they had quit."
"Well, go easy on them," She said, smiling. At the pointed non-shuffling from the Atlantis soldiers, she shrugged, "Well. Not too easy."
He nodded curtly at her, knowing Elizabeth would take the opportunity to prevent the inevitable if he played along. Striding toward the DHD, he found himself wishing he could appear in the off-world uniform he had become accustomed to, missing the reassuring weight of a P-90 in his hands. Hell, even an epi-pen would have been security enough, but they couldn't afford him being frisked and anyone finding a conspicuous reason to follow through on their hostage threats.
I hate politics, he thought, hoping it was loud enough for everyone to pick up on.
-
His team made a move to call for his attention when they notice McKay’s presence in the half-second it takes them to recognize that the Genii they were hissing at was their team mate in a Genii uniform. It's so at odds with how he's usually dressed that they're taken aback, McKay’s military-straight posture and casual, dismissive glance at them shuttering any words they could think to say.
The scientists were elsewhere, probably being put to work, and John's stomach sours when he realizes McKay's making no move to try and free them. It compounds, a dense knot of foreboding in his stomach, when McKay merely sits at the table parked in front of their cells in a relaxed lean that pings something unpleasant in his brain. It's been three days, and if they had received any hails from Atlantis, they would never have known, their gear stripped from them with an efficiency that boded poorly as they were marched underground.
Intellectually, he knew it was a negotiation. He remembered his father's parties, the way gossip over canapés arranged business deals in the millions, how smoothly he understood officer's parties and briefings moving along the same dance and tune. Being the commodity traded, however, looking from the outside in… it gave him a better insight into the scowls and glares whenever he came back home from deployments. There was nobody to look at other than Rodney and their hosts, and it felt almost like a one-way mirror, all attention fixed on the main attraction.
Someone - a lackey, given their nondescript appearance and economic motions - set a tray of drinks and plates of food down between their captor and McKay. Ordinarily this would be cause to carefully inspect all offerings of food, but somehow today the stars were misaligned and McKay merely knocked back what must have been alcohol and swiped a piece of finger food from the plate in front of him without batting an eye. It made his stomach cramp in dread, stealing his breath as he waited for some sign of allergy on McKay's face.
Several moments passed without incident, and whatever gamble it was seemed to pass muster, McKay merely raising an expectant eyebrow at their captors. It was so clearly a well, get on with it expression, devoid only of the wave of hand that usually accompanied it when McKay was in the labs, that he wanted to slump against the poorly-maintained brick wall in relief. No matter what strange shit was going on right now, it was still McKay in front of them. How much of McKay was there, he wasn't sure, but he would take his opportunities where he could get them.
He didn't think Teyla or Ronon had any idea what was actually going on, either, but McKay had somehow found a usable poker face that had their captor sighing and taking a seat across from him. The sight kept his heart in his throat, though, all careful capitulation highlighted by the weary way their captor sat down in his chair, as if he had a long day. It almost made him want to laugh in derision, but McKay's unimpressed face was an immutable veneer that set the tone for… whatever this conversation was going to be.
McKay speaking first was expected, but the opposite occurred, the man merely laid in his chair as if it were another Tuesday at the bar while their captor leaned forward and braced his arms against the edge of the table. "I was told there would be a higher ranked individual coming here, mister…?"
The bait was obvious, as was the play at polite bemusement. It was something McKay might fall for, if he let himself, but he only stared impassively for a beat before reaching for the corked pitcher of liquor. Its cap came off with a quiet squeak of a pop from its ceramic trapping, and instead of pouring another round for himself, McKay merely stared at the man across from him before topping off the other's untouched cup. He had left the bottle uncorked, and the contents were strong enough that he could begin to smells the fumes from where he was sitting.
It certainly set a tone, and the placid facade on McKay's face came across as foreboding. The situation reminded him, aberrantly, of roulette; he clenched his hands before his mind could supply the necessary swap in gambling items. The entirety of his thought process went ostensibly unnoticed, McKay continuing to only pay mind to their captor, who himself seemed to crumple under the lack of bait. Such an emotional upheaval would have impressed him with its skill in a more sane situation.
"I'm here upon the personal request of Ladon," McKay said, gesturing to their captor's now nearly-overflowing cup. It seemed an unvoiced order, and the man picked his drink up with the barest tremble of his fingers. Then, and only then, McKay cut a lingering glance across their cells, "Unless you have a better offer."
His heart stuck in his throat. Certainly McKay couldn't be suggesting…? Kolya was- Kolya was gone, like dust in the wind, and if McKay somehow knew where the bastard was-
No. No, he had to stop those thoughts right there. But the implication seemed well-formatted for their captor, because the man perked up, and he held back a grimace at the noticeable sparkle in the man's eye. Money made even the Pegasus galaxy go around, for the right price.
It was a shame they couldn't solve their Wraith problem with a little greasing of hands.
"Of course. Well, if you have come on personal recommendation?" The man tossed back his own drink, noticeably not as smoothly as McKay, and set the cup down to pat his hands on the table, "It has been difficult to find a good price for our goods. Times have been hard, you see."
The eyebrow McKay raised this time spoke the plain interpretation of Do I?, and it made their captor falter, hands briefly clutching at the tabletop. "… Yes," The man coughed, "We have a high starting price, naturally."
McKay picked up another canapé from his plate, observing it for a moment before taking a thoughtful bite. The silence in the room sucked out any preconceptions, and everyone seemed to wait for McKay to finish the morsel, "You have yet to impress me."
Their captor paled, probably from how similar to Kolya McKay sounded. He couldn't hear Ronon, who would have most certainly been snarling something by now, and Teyla was likewise as silent. It made him worry, and worry more that he wasn't sure who it was most for. With how Rodney was staring down their captor wearing a Genii uniform like this was a perfectly normal day, he began to wonder if he ought to feel a little sorry for himself, first.
"A price, Yelim?" McKay asked. His voice was honey-smooth, as if amused and playing with the idea of losing his patience. It made the other man - Yelim, apparently, and how McKay was able to draw that information out when the three of them couldn't, he had no idea - straighten up in his chair. McKay smiled, "Don't make me wait."
He found himself swallowing right along with Yelim, trying not to shift in place. It wasn't fun being literally chained in place, even if these would-have-been allies had correctly deduced they'd find their way out, otherwise. Yelim bobbed his head, "Our caches need re-filling. We will be able to provide the necessary trade, as usual."
McKay cocked a brow, "It seems we would be getting the better deal. What's in it for you?"
Favors, he thinks, blindsided. What straits were the people on this planet on, if they felt the need to kidnap people from Atlantis and double-cross not only them but the official leader of the Genii? He bites his lip, furrowing his brows - he's probably about to find out.
Yelim shifted in his seat, only stopping when McKay's gaze sharpened on him, "Well, we have heard rumors of the Wraith passing by this area more frequently. We do not know if they are desperate, or…"
McKay looked unamused, "Or?"
"Or- or looking for something." Yelim's eyes slid over to his and the other's cells, and the 'or someone' was clearly inferred.
Tapping the table with a finger, McKay picked up his cup and took a sip. It was only the barest amount, the liquor making a wet shine on his lips before it was licked away. The gesture was rough, the only bit of him that wasn't polished, and Yelim leaned forward, hand reaching to the container.
"Would you like some more?" Yelim asked, tone attempting to be sweeter than its groveling suggested.
Leaning forward himself, McKay said lowly, "I would like an answer, Yelim. Before I decide for you."
Yelim gulped.
"A- a forward payment, then, if you will," Yelim stuttered, waving a hand in a sweeping gesture toward the cells, "Take one of them, whichever you want."
"Hm." McKay leaned back in his chair, "And then?"
"'And then'?" Yelim asked, nervous. His arm was still in the air, but it slowly sank back down to the table, hand closing into a loose fist.
"And when I find your offer inevitably sub-standard, what shall I do, then?" McKay asked, frowning. He looked for all the world a patient, faintly disapproving teacher, "What leverage do you think you'll be holding over me? All I'll need to do is pick Sheppard over there, the rest will be useless to… him."
There again was Kolya's presence wafting into the room, a chill down his spine. How McKay was playing it so cool, he had no idea, his own arm aching from the memory of McKay's injury from the siege that sometimes seemed like only yesterday. Yelim seemed equally off-footed, gulping.
"I- I-"
"You don't know," McKay completed flatly, standing from his chair abruptly. The screeching sound of the wood moving back on stone made him and Yelim alike grimace, "I'll be taking all of them. Save you the effort of thinking about it."
Yelim was nodding, looking both relieved and constipated about it. From where he was half-lying on the floor, McKay towered over Yelim, posture as ram-rod straight as he had entered with, chin tipped down with disgust.
"Unlock the cells," McKay commanded, "And chain them together. Any foolish escapes on their part will be yours to deal with."
The role reversal was stunning, and Yelim looked faint with encroaching terror as he opened each cell and unlocked their chains from the wall. Ronon was put at the end, incidentally hobbling Teyla, and his considering, dark look leveled at McKay was stonewalled by passive disinterest in the proceedings. It wasn't a look McKay wore often, and it obviously unsettled all of them to see, quieting them as Yelim chained them together.
McKay being handed the lead seemed to finalize the arrangement, and he watched as McKay spared a light, courteous smile to Yelim, "You'll be conducting your other trade as usual."
"Y-yessir," Yelim nearly saluted, or whatever passed for such a gesture in this galaxy, lingering behind in the jail while McKay marched them ahead in silence.
-
Seeing daylight again was blinding, which put paid how much time he had estimated passed in the makeshift dungeon. He couldn't even raise his hands to block out the glare, McKay's hand on the leading bit of chain forcing his arms down as grimaced and blinked rapidly.
Whatever the reason, McKay hadn't arrived at this planet alone - it was still the same planet, something he found himself faintly grateful for in this bizarre situation. The guards were unrecognizable, as blank-faced as McKay himself, who hopped-to with a gesture from McKay's free hand and escorted them to the gate.
It was a mostly silent affair, up until Ronon growled. Me, too, buddy, he thought, hearing the aggravated tone in the sound. As much as he was still gambling that this was all some hilarious - or would be hilarious - misunderstanding, perhaps with some off-world variant of a gotcha, the hopes he was holding on tightly out of habit stumbled as he did when McKay twisted the chain.
"Do I need to remind you the consequences of disobeying me?" McKay said sharply. It wasn't even the tone McKay used in the labs, astringent to the point of stripping other's egos off. Just one hell of a verbal whetting, whittling down any presumptions. He already knew Ronon was glaring at McKay, and he struggled to straighten as best he could from how McKay had the chain wrapped tightly around his own fist, reminding him of the way the horse trainer on his father's property would quell rebellious foals as they were lead-trained.
He swallowed, tilting his head to the side just enough to signal to Ronon to knock it off. Teyla, between them, had the watchful air about her that was probably dangerous in other situations - not here, though, not now. McKay was the one literally holding the reins on this one, waiting for Ronon to make his decision.
What the hell is today, he thinks, appreciative of breaking out of that cell despite the deeply unusual manner, but unsure if they're walking into yet another situation. If McKay was somehow a turn-coat… No, he couldn't assume that. Not over until it's over.
Ronon, thankfully, decided not to pursue his anger. They nevertheless had to wait another moment as McKay stared Ronon down with a flinty gaze before tugging him and the rest of the team along. He watched McKay, straight-backed and in an enemy's clothing, leading them through the gate.
Somehow he didn't get the feeling Atlantis would be on the other side.
-
He hated being right.
This wasn't a planet he recognized, and by Teyla's quick inhale, neither did she. Fuck. If it weren't for their hands all being bound, or McKay's now unsurprisingly strong grip on the chain, he would be torn between scrubbing a hand over his face and attempting to strangle McKay, instead of wondering what shithole they just stepped into.
Betrayal was looking more likely, and he felt the pit in his stomach grow as McKay gestured to his guards to scout the area out. They had nodded curtly, one man stationing himself by the DHD, blowing any hopes out of the water of an uncomplicated escape.
McKay was ignoring them, inasmuch as one could while actively keeping a hold of a direct link to captives. He was opening one of the breast pockets on his jacket, pulling out a slim device with a screen on it. Whatever it was, it looked heavily like an LSD, which he watched McKay operate one-handed with a scrutinizing look on his face.
He wet his lips, wondering if he ought to break the taboo and risk speaking, when McKay slid his gaze toward him without actually moving his head. The effect was cutting, and he bit back whatever he was still in the middle of planning to say, clenching his hands on the chain connecting him to McKay.
"Don't," McKay said dismissively, still looking at the device in his hands. Whatever was on the screen was obscured by the angle and reflection of the sun on it.
Faintly, he wanted to damn the fact that they knew each other well enough to have a conversation that was only half verbal. It made for a hell of an enemy, especially one as smart and resourceful as Rodney. Someone he had encouraged to be resourceful.
Of all the friends he had betraying him, this one bit the deepest. He exhaled roughly, bracing himself for whatever was going to happen now. At the very least, he had his team to get home. Whatever it was McKay had done, he knew at least some of the man's way of thinking - it would hurt, to take him out, but he'd do it.
Just as he was slotting ideas into place, throwing some out that didn't fit with what he knew of McKay, some of the Genii came back from their scouting. What was shocking was that Kolya wasn't with them, or any new people. McKay was smirking wryly, though, tilting his chin up in greeting to the other men.
"Clear," One of the men said, which was disturbing for its clear recognition of the next phase of a plan - orchestrated by McKay? - and confounding by the fact that all of them seemed to come to a stand-still.
"Good," McKay answered, and then looked up, squinting into the sunshine. It was a different time of day on this planet, his brain giving him vertigo over it.
If part of the plan was to give them gate lag, well - it wasn't the worst thing to pile on them, even if he was uncertain what else was in store for them. McKay seemed satisfied with whatever he was looking for - the Genii didn't have planes, as far as he knew, and no Wraith were flying over head - and turned toward them.
"Hands out, Sheppard," McKay ordered, still having that wry look on his face. Of course, it would be ironic, given that it was frequently the exact phrase McKay used before he used him as a lightswitch for yet another Ancient doodad.
He snarled silently as he did so. McKay didn't do more than make sure the chains were at proper tension, forcing him to stand still lest Teyla and Ronon be lurched forward with him. The strain put him in a bad mood as he watched McKay wave the device over his arms, shoulders tight as he felt it waved over his neck.
McKay looked at the device, observing whatever the read-out must be. And what was he looking for, exactly? They had all been conscious for- well, enough of the time to be sure nothing was done to them outside of being dragged to a repurposed root cellar and chained up until McKay found them. But whatever it was seemed to appease him, because McKay nodded to the other Genii around them.
"Teyla," McKay said, waving his device to gesture where he wanted her to go, "If you would."
"Rodney-" She said, obviously trying to seize an opportunity as she walked to stand beside him, the chain between them rattling and hitting his thigh.
McKay held up a finger warningly, "Ah. No. Hold out your hands."
He watched Teyla purse her lips, looking cross and upset. Still, she did as McKay bade her, and he repeated the process. By this time, the routine was observable, and Ronon slunk silently beside Teyla with an interrogative glare on his face.
Whether it was because McKay knew better or because he was indifferent to it, he merely repeated the same scan on Ronon. There was little chance of them overthrowing the situation, not with how McKay still had the lead firmly winched tight around his hands and just enough people around them that their odds weren't favorable. He could only watch as McKay went through the results of whatever this last scan was, once again looking pleased.
They were shuffled back into a line instead of side by side, and he spared a moment to mourn the loss of friendly human contact as McKay gestured to the man at the DHD, "Dial it."
How many planets was McKay going to drag them through?
-
Ladon Radim greeted them on the other side, sitting on a stump and keeping a finger on the firearm he had aimed at them as they stepped through the gate. Slowly, the détente lowered between Radim and McKay - he found himself faintly surprised they made it to the Genii at all, and not delivered straight into Kolya's hands. The shock of it seemed to quiet whatever words he could feel were brewing at his back by Teyla and Ronon, a counterpoint for the way his wrists ached at the sustained posture.
He raised an eyebrow at Radim's curious look, feeling a foul mood encroach further at the way the other man hummed thoughtfully and turned to McKay.
"I admit," Radim said lightly, "I hadn't expected you to succeed."
McKay didn't bequeath the goading statement with an answer, merely gesturing to the same man that had dialed them here, "Dial out."
Was this a horse and pony show? He frowned at McKay's back, wondering what the game was, here. But McKay said nothing to them, nor even turned to look at them as they were shuffled out of the way of the wormhole. The assessing stares of the Genii around him made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, but he figured McKay was the ringmaster of this little deception - if Radim wasn't stopping them, what was to say they weren't going to Kolya, anyway?
Just as the wormhole stabilized, McKay led them to it, drawing him up so that they stood - disregarding the chains that more than symbolized a hierarchy - as equals. He watched McKay watch him, wishing that for once there was some sort of genuine expression on the man's face. Or was this the default? He wasn't sure any more.
McKay tilted an inscrutable look at him, edged in an unexpected softness despite the forbidding blankness, "Colonel."
He wanted to say something back, but the tension of the lead chain was abruptly released in time for him to be shoved through the wormhole. It was only by the slackening of the chain binding him to Teyla that he could sense he was followed.
-
This time the sunlight he was blinking back was the setting sun through Atlantis' windows, as familiar to him as his own breath. He was still blinking, finally bringing his hands up to his face to block out the light and disregarding the way the chain smacked against his legs and hitting all the bruises he had sustained when they were captured, when he could hear someone calling his name.
"John?" Elizabeth called out, much closer than he had expected. She was reaching out to him, lowering his hands from his face and looking at him searchingly, "John, where's Rodney?"
"McKay-" Ronon spat, as Teyla tried to intervene, "He was-"
"Right here," McKay himself said, the ripple of the wormhole failing to obscure the sound of his boot heels clicking on the floor. He whipped around, barely avoiding the chains hitting Elizabeth as he turned to face McKay, who was still in Genii uniform and standing stiffly at attention in a way that would make his old drill sergeant proud, "As ordered."
"Rodney, you don't need to-" Elizabeth started, falling silent at the look McKay threw her, bitter and angry.
"Don't," He said flatly, not the same dismissive as he was toward him two planets ago, but it had the same effect of rendering Elizabeth speechless, her hands falling from where they had reached for his own moments earlier. McKay frowned deeply, disapproving, "You will never do that again."
Elizabeth nodded faintly. In the resulting silence of the words, McKay marched out of the gate room, ignoring Lorne, the various soldiers, and some anxious scientists lingering around as he exited in the direction of the ready room.
He could have heard a pin drop after the distant swoosh of the automatic door. Turning toward Elizabeth, he said, "What the fuck is going on?"
-
It turned out to have been a plan so asinine that it had a higher than possible probability of working. If only by sheer bizarre circumstance.
Elizabeth had to reassure him several times that McKay had not, in face, defected to the Genii, or even to Kolya, but had rather been coerced into playacting as one in order to take advantage of the situation that Kolya had wanted Sheppard. And the rest of AR-1. As she explained it, none of the trick would have worked if McKay had gone with them for that trip, because then Yelim would have known that he was from Atlantis, as well.
"Ladon has… assured me," Elizabeth said, looking down at her twiddling thumbs, picking her words carefully, "That all of our scientists that had been on detail with you have been safely delivered from that planet. Yelim will also be delivering to him the agreed-upon amount of flour and vegetables in three day's time. We'll be getting a cut of it as payment."
"For what?" He asked dourly, crossing his arms.
Bafflingly, Elizabeth shrugged, "I don't know, honestly. Only that Rodney had negotiated it."
He muttered around his frown, "So that's why he shoved me."
"What?" Elizabeth tilted her head at him, and he shook his head to dismiss the question. Gathering herself, she continued to relay the events that led to him, Teyla, and Ronon in the conference room.
McKay wasn't here, ostensibly working on communication relay units to boost their radio and intranet signals. They hadn't seen him at all, and nobody was telling where in the bowels of the city he was hiding, and Elizabeth continued, "Radim was only able to find information on Kolya's intentions at the last moment, and we needed someone who knew gate technology and could believably bluff your captors into thinking they were working for Kolya."
"Why not Zelenka?" Ronon asked, leaning back in his chair. It squeaked alarmingly at the angle he tilted it at, ignoring how he and Elizabeth frantically gestured for him to not lean back so far. He merely kept up his implacable stare, which was aided by the way Teyla was throwing in her two cents of a look.
Elizabeth sighed, "We debated it, believe it or not. But Rodney volunteered, rather vehemently."
He snorted, able to believe that McKay would argue his point, but not able to believe him capable of lying so well to fool not only their captors, but them, as well, "Zelenka's at least been in the military. No offense to McKay, but he doesn't have that kind of bearing."
Which flew blatantly in the face of the act McKay had pulled to get them out of there, and Elizabeth's tilted brow told them as much, "He insisted," She said, tone closing that particular avenue of discontent, "His argument was quite strong. None of us, outside of all of you, know Kolya quite as well."
And Elizabeth would never be allowed to risk herself like that to go off-world. He sighed, acknowledging the point. They all watched her stare in the middle distance for a bit, gathering her thoughts, before she sighed, "Rodney was correct. With the bounty on your head, John, and consequently the rest of your team, he was our best shot at bluffing everyone. It seemed he did well enough to convince even you, and you work closely with him nearly every day."
"But still a question remains," Teyla said, resting her hands delicately on the table. It was a gesture he recognized from off-world, when she was deciding the best body language to look open and accommodating while still retaining her status as a visiting negotiator. That she felt the need to do it here stung, Elizabeth mirroring his thoughts with her own frown as she leaned back, "How did Rodney learn how to mask himself so well? It is not in his nature."
That was a million dollar question. He turned his attention back to Elizabeth, who, it seemed, could only shrug at them sadly, "You'll need to ask him, I'm afraid. He refused to tell any of us."
-
In the end, they all just decided to ambush McKay. Four days had passed at that point, and their erstwhile team mate had been sneakier than they had given him credit for, probably surviving off stashed food and odd corners to sleep in. Zelenka was still tight-lipped, looking vaguely pissed off in a way that promised their answers would be sparse, but there were no actual complaints from his quarter and only a vague hint to go off of.
It said something that McKay hadn't expected it on the way to his own room at the ass-crack of dawn, still early enough that the sun hadn't even begun to start rising. He looked like shit, bags under his eyes and the swaying walk of someone too exhausted to pay attention to their surroundings. Feeling only a little bit like an asshole, he cornered McKay to a wall, flanked by Ronon and Teyla.
For McKay's part, it took him a couple of moments after jolting in shock to recognize what was going on, "Seriously?"
"Talk, McKay," Ronon growled, and wow, the big guy must have been holding that in for a while, based on the way he loomed. McKay didn't do more than huff and roll his eyes.
"No," McKay retorted, similar enough in tone that he had to repress a flinch, the other man's face briefly flashing in guilty abashment before smoothing out into exhaustion, "I've been trying to make sure our equipment can still talk to each other after the last brown-out, and I am going to bed. You can interrogate me in the morning."
Teyla was the first to leave off, stepping back as McKay put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. Ronon only did so reluctantly, and they all watched McKay promptly ignore him to escape into his room.
Staring at the door, he debated whether or not it was worth breaching the thin line of privacy in order to secure some answers. His team mates decided for him, sitting down on either side of the door as one.
He sighed, sliding down the wall opposite of the door, muttering, "Wake me up when he gets out."
-
"Oh my god, you have got to be kidding me," He heard McKay say, somehow sounding far above him. Blinking himself awake, he realized he had slumped to the ground while he had been waiting, one arm automatically cushioning his head from the ground. Exasperated, McKay swatted his shin with a foot, "At least get up and get some coffee, you idiot."
McKay left as swiftly as he appeared, muttering to himself as he went back into his room. That seemed to be tacit invitation for them to file into the room, and he scrubbed at his hair, hoping it wasn't flattened on one side.
Though he wasn't there very often, McKay's room was somehow still a surprising clutter of work and living space all mixed together. Teyla lingered with him as McKay grumbled to himself and fished a couple of mess hall cups out of a box, heading into the bathroom to fill them with water. He watched as Ronon flung himself on top of the bed insouciantly, glaring at McKay when he was filling up the coffee maker perched on an improvised end table as if daring him to argue.
Rolling his eyes, McKay only bothered to flap a hand at Ronon, digging out a tin of what ended up being coffee ground and measuring them meticulously into the machine.
"I don't have any sugar," McKay said, "Because god knows there would somehow be gargantuan, poisonous ants or something if anything spilled, but if you're really keen then you can go to the mess for that."
He shrugged, leaning against the dresser and hoping his back wasn't going to crack audibly from sleeping on the floor. The slope made his hip ache, but it was worth it to weather the dirty look McKay gave him for leaning an elbow against some motherboards heaped atop the furniture.
"Do you really have to- whatever," McKay waved an arm generously at him, "Get your questions over with, I do actually have to get some breakfast at some point."
They looked at each other, McKay bitchy and expectant, and he looked at Teyla. She popped her eyebrows up at him, acknowledging how he was foisting the conversation off on her and promising retribution during training later today. He shrugged back, letting her take the lead.
Sighing delicately, Teyla raised her hands placatingly, "Your manner of… freeing us, while creative and appreciated, leaves us to speculate as to the manner."
McKay cocked a brow, "Wow. Now I really know what it's like to be on the other side," He commented, over the gurgle of the coffee maker behind him, "You want to know why I wasn't a hot mess like I usually am, right?"
And it wasn't a question, but Teyla treated it like one, nodding with a dignified gravity that smoothed over several of the questions he could feel her wanting to ask. McKay sighed, shrugging, "Not much to it. We had confirmation that Yelim wanted to sell you guys out to Kolya, dead or alive, and Radim wasn't sure who he could trust to extract you without participating in the sale."
"Sale," He said, sourly. It occurred to him, again, how closely they avoided a worse fate, even if his mind had been turning over a thousand possibilities of how the situation was already dogshit.
"Sale," McKay repeated in weary acknowledgment, shoulders drooping, "Yeah. If Kolya had gotten you, all of you would have died. That's the only thing we knew for sure."
Teyla glanced at him worriedly, smoothly resuming her end of the conversation, "We are sure that the pressure to rescue us must have been intense."
"Oh, definitely," McKay agreed, turning to the coffee maker as it steamed to a finish. The pot didn't look like it held enough, but he knew from previous experience that McKay brewed it strong enough to build with as a default. The Daedalus resupplying them had been a godsend for McKay hoarding as much caffeine as possible.
He accepted the piping hot cup handed to him, letting it warm his hands as he waited McKay out. It didn't take long, and he watched McKay visibly review his memories the same way Elizabeth had done, "Sheppard, you remember how I said I got a visit in sixth grade?"
"… Yeah?"
McKay smiled humorlessly, "It wasn't the only one."
He froze, grip tightening on his cup at the last minute, "You mean-"
"That I became well-acquainted with the vagaries of Americanism?" McKay replied, "Yes, I did."
Teyla and Ronon were wearing similar frowns of confusion, knowing something was up but not the particulars. For now, he ignored the urge to explain things to them, keeping his attention on McKay, "And that's where you learned that."
McKay shrugged in an illuminating manner. He frowned, straightening up off the dresser, "And Elizabeth used that."
"I allowed Elizabeth to use that," McKay corrected, crossing his arms, "She didn't know, either."
"Would she?" He asked.
McKay sighed, "No. Not if this hadn't happened."
Teyla was watching them like a tennis match, "John…"
He shook his head, biting his lip. Of all the conversations to expect, he hadn't predicted this one, "And this isn't on your record?"
"No, apparently not," McKay said wryly, "SGC must not have carried the notes over."
Jesus. He did scrub a hand over his face at that, wondering how he got himself in these kinds of situations, "Anything else I need to know about?"
McKay got that same frustratingly opaque look as he did on that planet, glancing away from him with lips pressed so tightly together he was surprised there was still color in his face, "I'm not doing that again. I didn't like it."
And that was the most McKay-like personality he hadn't seen in half a week. It was promising, and he crooked a smile at McKay, "I won't let it happen again."
That promise seemed to be enough for him, because McKay seemed to slump in relief, "Just don't get captured again, alright? The Genii have no idea how to brush wool out."
He laughed, "What can I say, McKay. They're not very good at what they do."
McKay grinned at him, slotting back into his team as if he had never left it. He made a mental note to talk to Elizabeth about this, but let McKay herd them all to the mess, complaining about how hungry he was.
-
Author's Notes
In typical canon style, Rodney drops a throwaway line about his past and there’s approximately zero follow-up to it in any episode in order to further develop his character. This follows on the idea introduced in “Underground” (episode 1x08), and goes through most of the Genii plot line, but takes place in some unspecified time between “Coup D’Etat” (episode 2x17) and “Irresponsible” (episode 3x13).
Title taken from the idea of shadow puppetry (Wikipedia) and nightingale flooring (Wikipedia). For some additional background notes, Radek is mentioned to have military experience because by virtue of his age and being from the Czech Republic, he would have been expected to at least attend training. Presumably Radek knows how to do things like stand in a line and handle a firearm, but as this is a Rodney-centric fic, Rodney would have been going regardless of whether Radek would be (doubtfully) able to handle the pressure of the situation.
Because of the sometimes inconsistent writing – especially so with Rodney – I doubt this would have ever been considered a canon-type event, particularly because he’s been designated by the plot as either the scientist trope or the comic relief trope. Still, I feel like it would have been a good opportunity to round out his character and add some reinforcement to his myriad weaknesses as a person by throwing him into a situation like this.
A special thanks to @avocado-moon (AO3) for the feedback!
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I love cake
gist: When I go back to my seat, I observe Beni reading a book and proceed to ask him: "What are you reading?"
"Oh, you’re done how was it?"
"Wonderful, nothing like a hot shower to make me feel better."
"Glad to hear that. I’m reading Izana, a folklore story that deals with the legend of the girls born on the year of the horse. Some sort of curse condemns their existence and the only solution as cruel as it may sound is to kill the kid to inhibit them from bringing misfortune to the village. It was a common practise of clan superiority traditions but it’s extremely nefarious so it has died down to a certain extent."
"Wow! I didn’t know you liked folkore stories like that. I’ll add that to my reading list for this month."
"It will be a wonderful read, I assure you."
"I don’t doubt it."
chapter notes:
Ramyeon*: Korean noodles my fave are kimchi and spicy from shin ramyeon.
Baguette*: French stick type of bread.
Camembert*: Smelly French cheese (some say it smells like feet…)
Cailler*, Läderach ag*, Toblerone* Lindt*: Swiss chocolate brands which happen to be my fave.
Petit beurre*: butter biscuit sometimes covered with milk chocolate or dark one. Its equivalent in the anglo saxon sphere would be graham crackers.
Quatre quarts*: Made up name place but it means pound cake in French.
bruva*: british lingo for brother (another example is how they add chew in tuesday- phonetically speaking).
rad*: crazy, mad about.
Lapis Lazuli*: a hotel name in this fic but is also a crystal often blue as well as song by the Beach House.
Jambon beurre*: literally ham butter sandwich. A very popular combo, if you ever can get a sammy at a French boulangerie, this is a classic.
financier*: a small cake (typically a finger food), can be rectangular or oval which dates back to 1865.
Je suis à Paris, les nanas*: translation Girls, I'm in Paris. Les nanas means girls but sometimes it can also mean boobs. Here is the former but the more you know…
Bukkake*: A collective jizz shower if you get what I mean…
For the pet names list: love, honey, daddy and sir for Leo.
Concerning Palais de la démesure, it is a fic I'm currently writing. Might be out towards like February of this year if work doesn't manage to knock me out first (fingers crossed)!
Cw: sex in a bathroom at the airport(do not reproduce, I Guess), benimaru is a menace, reader getting ate out, attempt to an actual handjob and blowjob but oh well she can't do much because of him, benimaru also is addicted to her so much so he's back at it again in the airplane( a menace he is), consuming porn, group chat talks are the best.
wc: 7096
c/s: this one is quite long, heh!
Blank/Ageless blogs/MDNI, I will block you!
I’ve dreamt of this moment ever since I laid my eyes on her back in uni. I have to pace myself otherwise I’ll just jizz my pants and I don’t want that for my first sexual intercourse with Y/n. Dawg, I sound like a fucking teenager who’s tryna get their very first nut! Why am I so goddam nervous in the first place. Like this is light work but I wanna impress her too…
"So," she commences "what are you going to do about your erection?"
He tells her "Brace yourself on that sink with both hands, if you will?"
"I can do that."
"That’s secure enough for you? You’re not going to do anything which requires the use of my might?"
"Maybe, who knows?"
He gets down on his knees and his hands start fumbling your backside.
I have my hands on uni's most appraised butt. What a fucking legend I am to be the one fondling it. We were little shits back then but what could a motherfucker do besides blame hormones? We were packing and matter of fact I ain’t lose none of the moves from back then. I’ll show her how a real man eats out a woman.
Memories
"Hey, you don’t know what I’d do to get my hands on Y/n’s backside."
"Same! Before I die, if god is real and can grant me one wish, I wanna rest my head on it. You can tell the joint's hella comfortable."
"What if she farts?"
"Are you dumb or you’re acting like it on purpose?"
"He is, poor thing really thought women don’t get gassy."
"You sure you passed them exams to get to uni or maybe you bribed someone?"
"What are you even saying?"
"I said what I said and it stays between us."
"You can’t be the first one who’s done it anyway."
"He’s so spot on."
"Anywho… wanna bet?"
"Bet about what?"
"I’ll touch that butt of hers before any of y’all get the chance to. I’m the best, so place it now."
"Two hundred."
"Fifty ‘cause I’m behind rent this month."
"One thousand if you do it today."
"Sold! Just watch me in action."
"Y/n!"
"Beni! How have you been?"
"Not looking as fine as you do."
"Stop playing."
"I’m just saying the truth."
"Yeah, keep at it."
"I was wondering if we could maybe go to the movies."
"Tonight, I can’t I have a due paper and need to verify some finishing touches before I hand it in but tomorrow, I’m free."
"Tomorrow at ten, then."
He mouths to them when he goes away by Y/n's side 'just watch me, you bunch o’ goons.'
"He acting like he the king or sum?"
"So fucking conceited!"
"He must be high from what he bouta get tomorrow."
Tomorrow evening
"As always, you look superb."
"You don’t look so bad yourself."
"That’s a compliment from Y/n, I’ll cherish it my whole life."
"Really?"
"Pick whatever you’d like, my treat."
"Salted caramel popcorn, butter and sprite. I wouldn’t mind having some sour patch kids…"
"Great choice."
"What about you?"
"I don’t really feel like eating so, candy will be aight."
"You like it?"
"So far, it ain’t bad."
"We’re getting to the scarier bits."
"Okay."
"You can hold me, if you want to."
"I’ll be good."
That’s what she said but her hands were gripping his bicep and her hiding her face on it says otherwise. She really was tryna act strong in front of a horror movie. You should know better!
"It’s gotten better, I promise."
She looks at the screen and the murderers are actually decapitating the victim while performing some sort of ritual which apparently could revive the dead. In answer to him lying to her she smacks his arm.
"Beni! How could you do this to me?"
He chortles so hard which earn him some disapproving looks from other folks who were also in the room.
"I thought it would be nice to prank you. Please, don't hate me. You're so pretty when you get mad."
"You're crazy Beni, on god you are."
At first you think it’s a bit odd or he’s perhaps just getting in the mood so you let him do how he feels it. He hikes up your dress, plays with your undies a little before getting a sharp inhale from the source.
He slides her panties down to her ankles and slowly but surely smooches her pearl. She smells really good down there. He’s glad he gets to taste her essence from the source right away even though licking her clean from her underwear would thrill him too.
His hands grab her cheeks to spread them in a way he can engulf fully her clitoris into his moist hot cavern.
He lets her know that eating her out is one of the many things he enjoys doing when he vibrates around her button. She lets out an almost inaudible squeal which has him struck at first to hear such a sound but women are one of a kind so he’ll try to get to know more sounds like this he’s not so used to hear. Interesting, he considered.
She grips the sink, harder. She also makes a mental note not to make too much noise because they are in a public setting. Yes, with Leo she was inside a car outside but this time things are slightly different she’s in the airport, getting it on with someone who’s had eyes on her for a long time. She doesn’t know what to expect of him in terms of what he can do to her given the current situation she finds herself in. She should be fine, she likes to think this way.
"Just like that, please don’t stop."
He asks her "you like that or you could use some more of my face?"
She spits back "you want me to ride it?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Do we have time?"
"We still have roughly eleven minutes left, so go ahead."
She grabs the back of his head, settles exactly how she feels like she should be using his face like a seat then makes a back and forth motion while trying to keep her composure because his tongue is not really giving her a break like she thought she’d get as if she were in control.
A few moments after she finds herself on her knees, riding his face while she tries to pump his erection with her bare hands, Benimaru somehow forgot how nice acrylics feel on his dick. It’s been a long time since he’s had a wild night similar to the one when he had been summoned at the Palais de la Démesure. He sometimes wishes he were summoned more often but oh, you cannot have everything you want in life now, can you?
Anytime she tries to wrap her lips around his head, he makes her jerk slightly forward with his tongue skills. When she finally does engulf him into her mouth, he lets out a sharp inhale. As she bobs his length up and down he grips her hips harder and sucks on her clit to the best of his ability one could think it has somehow become a competition to see which one of them is going to make the other come the fastest.
When her much awaited release washes over her, her first reaction is to put her hand over her mouth and she remains there, shaking for nearly three minutes atop Benimaru’s face.
"How are you?"
"Better than ever, great I must say!"
"How much?"
"We ended before the actual time so we have five minutes to freshen up, look somewhat presentable not like we were fucking and off, we are."
"I never had someone make me come like that just using my clitoris, only.
I wanna know where did you learn that."
"I can ’t tell you where or who I learned it from all. I can say is that I am thrilled to hear you enjoyed that. I would gladly give you another clitoridian orgasm whenever you feel like having one. I am at your service anytime."
"That’s so refined of you. Is that how you get women?"
"No, not my preferred method to say the least."
"Then, how do you proceed, I’m curious now?"
"Well…" he says meanwhile he buttons up his pants. "May you please remind me how I got you."
"Uhm… I don’t quite remember how that went. I could use a little help if you know what mean."
"Y/n you’re being incredibly hurtful in my opinion. How could you do this to me?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
"I invited you to have breakfast with me, we talked for a bit. I made you laugh and got you on a trip abroad with me. So far, aren’t you enjoying it?"
"You’re right about that. We’ll see that when we’re finally in Paris."
She takes off her panties and discards them.
"You’re not going to wear panties during our flight?"
"They’re soaked. I’m not doing that to her plus, a little wind won’t hurt."
"You’re right maybe, I should do the same."
"No, you should hurry up. I’ll go out first and send you a message when you can come out."
"We cannot be seen exiting this room together."
"Okay. I’ll wait for the message."
On board
"Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten up your seatbelts."
"What are we going to do once we land there, Benimaru?"
"For the very first few nights, we’ll stay at a hotel if all goes according to plan that is, then later we’ll go to a house that I rented. That way, we’re not permanently in Paris throughout the whole trip because it may be the city of love but it’s not able to fit all of us who wish to be there."
"You meant you wanted to move there someday?"
"I would love to but the housing situation is enough to provide me with a decent headache, I don’t need that on a daily basis."
"Oh, I get it but maybe you should try moving to the suburbs. I’m sure you’d find your happiness there."
She’s probably not wrong. I’m sure one can find a nice place within an hour difference from Paris.
Meal
"The baguette is rather stale, if you ask me. The salad’s okay, the camembert too, a glass of wine, the onion soup with and we got macarons for dessert. I think I’ll ask for a bowl of ramyeon* later in the day, I know I’ll be hungry.
"What did you get?"
"I opted for cantonese rice, a side of pickled okra, a pudding and I also have boxes of chocolate."
"How did you get chocolate?"
"Complimenting the flight attendant goes a long way…"
"You’re telling me I should do the same?"
"No, I have two boxes, one for me and the other for you."
"Can I see the goods?"
"Here you go."
"Normally, we have Cailler*, Läderach ag*, Toblerone* and Lindt*."
"Oh, how I love Swiss chocolate!"
"I know you do."
"Should we share?"
"Only if you want to."
"Swiss liquor ones or petit beurre*?"
"Why not both?"
"You’re right," she lets out "we should treat ourselves."
You both bite them. Now for the Swiss liquor, you popped one into your mouth.
"Y/n you have something on your upper lip."
You look at it, you can’t see what he’s just mentioned. He said "I’ll get it for you."
He approached your face, touched your upper lip with the pad of his finger and then kissed you. It caught you by surprise, you gave in didn’t even fight back.
"What was that for?"
"I was always told that chocolate liquor tastes better if it’s comes from someone else’s mouth so I wanted to put it to test."
"You’re trying to impress me or did I miss something?"
"We can try it again if you want to, you can kiss me this time."
"Beni～ is it because you didn’t get to do it earlier?"
"It probably is."
"We should watch a movie together."
"Then, I’ll leave the choice to you."
"That’s okay with you?"
"Of course! Why wouldn’t it be?"
"You think my seat has enough space for us?"
"I’m sure it’s the case. We should get comfy."
"Are you sure the flight attendant is not going to catch us?"
"We aren’t doing nothing illegal Y/n, just watching a movie."
"I’ll sit first, you sit on me and get the covers."
"What did you pick?"
"You’re going to see."
"Paprika or Tokyo godfathers?"
He doesn't answer. He does love how you keep asking him what you're going to watch. It's amusing for him.
Midway through the movie, your head peacefully rested on Beni’s chest while he stroke your thigh aimlessly just reeling at how much he wanted this brief moment to last.
"Do you like it?"
"Yes, it’s a bit hard to follow but I think I’m getting the hang of it."
"I’m happy to hear that."
"I told you to pay attention to it and you’re getting sleepy on me. No can do."
His dominant hand snaked right into your panties while the other delicately fondles one of your boobs. You were about to protest but the way he does everything in sync makes it die on your tongue.
You feel encouraged to rub your bud against his fingers while he smooches behind your ear.
"Beni～," you managed to utter between each moan he dragged out of you.
"Yes!"
"You’re going to continue even if I stop, right?"
"By all means, my love. You’re paying attention to the movie?"
"How can I- -"
"Tsk, I told you to keep your eyes on it."
"You’re being so mean!"
"I’m not, I’m giving you some relief before tonight’s much needed rest."
"What happened to the Beni I met at my place before coming to the airport?"
"Never heard of him. We can talk about him if you want to…"
"Such a joker."
Shower
"I can shower here."
"Yes, you can. I’ll ask the flight attendant to show you where it is."
"Oh that’s wonderful. Are you going to do it too, Benimaru?"
"No I’m good, I’ll shower when we get to the hotel."
"I was wondering I think we should go to the Louvre museum."
"Oh you’d like to go there. No problem."
"You rock!"
"On the first day or can it wait?"
"Maybe on the second or the third even…"
"You’d like to go by yourself or be in company of someone?"
"You have somewhere to be?"
"No, I’m just asking."
"I would like it to be with you."
"We’ll do that."
In the shower while everything has been going perfectly well, you’re suddenly hit with a wave of sadness when you’re washing up. The goods you’re using on this flight smell exactly like ones Leo wore the first time you two ever met. It feels wrong to remember him fondly when a few hours earlier you were sitting on Benimaru’s face and he made you come like that. Is it greedy of mine to want both of them doing unspeakable things to me? I’m sure it isn’t, you laugh it off. For the time being you should enjoy your deserved time in Paris by Beni’s side. Everything else shall fall into place.
When I go back to my seat, I observe Beni reading a book and proceed to ask him: "What are you reading?"
"Oh, you’re done how was it?"
"Wonderful, nothing like a hot shower to make me feel better."
"Glad to hear that. I’m reading Izana, a folklore story that deals with the legend of the girls born on the year of the horse. Some sort of curse condemns their existence and the only solution as cruel as it may sound is to kill the kid to inhibit them from bringing misfortune to the village. It was a common practise of clan superiority traditions but it’s extremely nefarious so it has died down to a certain extent."
"Wow! I didn’t know you liked folkore stories like that. I’ll add that to my reading list for this month."
"It will be a wonderful read, I assure you."
"I don’t doubt it."
Bedtime
"No, I’ll make your bed for you. After all, that’s the service you paid for."
"You did, Benimaru?"
"Yes, love."
"Sorry then."
"I was wondering if can I get some infusion before bed?"
"Indeed, is there anything like flavour you’d like to have?"
"Chamomille would be wonderful, that is if you have that."
"Definitely! I’ll check but I’m ninety eight per cent sure we have it."
"Here is you infusion, would you like some sugar with it or honey?"
"Honey would be lovely."
"Here you have it. Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"Everything was perfect. Thank you."
"You’re welcome, please, do not hesitate."
"I suggest you rest as much as you can, we have an eventful day tomorrow."
He kisses her forehead and tells her "Goodnight love."
Breakfast
At last we get to have a proper Parisian meal which is made up of the mandatory classics like a croissant, pain au chocolat, tartine with jam and butter. A double shot espresso coffee with a dash of milk. And for the fiber, a fruit salad.
"We’ll arrive at Paris in a bit less than two hours."
"I can’t wait for it. I am so excited."
"We’re currently at the airport. We’ll most certainly eat before we get to the hotel. I ordered a few of my men to get me a car but given it’s weekday time and peak hours for traffic jams, they’ll be here in about an hour."
"Got it."
"What should we do then?"
"We can get some snacks for the time being the hotel check in is only at eleven roughly."
"Let's go to a drugstore then I have to stock up on sunblock and I should also get me some nuxe products."
"Lead the way, I’ll follow you."
"What do you think of this?"
"It smells really good, you should buy it."
"If you insist…"
Get some sheet masks because this flight dried up my skin terribly.
Perfume should I pick vanilla or strawberry? I don’t feel like choosing so get both. I know he’ll like it, anyway.
"To Lapis Lazuli* we go."
"It’s not in Paris, it’s nearby and what do you take me for a pigeon maybe?"
"Hotels in the very centre of the capital are a pain in the ass, I don’t like that type of hassle. I picked somewhere not so well know so that way in two days or so we can leave for the house I rented."
"Mother why are you trying to monitor your son who’s on a trip with the girl he loves?"
"That’s my job."
"Don’t you have more important matters to attend at the moment?"
"Like what for example?"
"I don’t know, maybe not worrying about me?"
"Okay, darling bring me some souvenirs and take care of that girl you cherish so much."
"I will, bye mother."
Someone gently wakes you from your slumber. You really don't feel like opening your eyes and he didn't want to wake you up since you were serenely sleeping. He has to.
"Y/n, Y/n, can you hear me, love? I’m so sorry to wake you up, we’ve arrived at the hotel. I know you must be knackered but try to be awake at least for the check in. As soon as we’re done with it, I’ll carry you to our room."
"Okay."
Honestly, you don’t know what came over you back in the car. One could guess the sound of the engine was enough to lull you into Morpheus soothing arms. It felt nice to rest on Beni’s shoulder, he’s such a gentleman he even covered you with his jacket.
After a little much needed nap which lasted over three hours and a half, you decided it was time to let the girls know if you made it to Paris. You let out as soon as they pick the phone up in your best French accent:
"Je suis à Paris, les nanas*!"
"I’m jealous," Marjorie said.
"I wish I were a squirrel," Theresa added.
"Lordt, what have I done to deserve this?" Bianca drammatically uttered, she continued with "Girl, where the Eiffel Tower at?"
"Yeah, let us see that," Theresa announced.
"Word!" Marjorie claimed.
"I will when I get there, I promise." you told them.
"How’s our new knight, babes?" Theresa asked.
"He’s good?!"
"Or is he," she widens her eyes, "better than Leo?" Bianca inquired.
"Uhm… hard to compare them like that." You answered.
"Oh, our girl needs time." Marjorie declared.
"Yup, evaluation period is necessary." Theresa disclosed.
"Girl is that a hickey on your pulse point?" Bianca asserted.
"Shiiit… he don’t waste time!" Marjorie added.
"Like you said, he don’t." Theresa suggested.
"He hella fast!" Bianca replied."
"A lot has occurred!" you shyly added.
Marjorie had a 'ah' moment where she smacked her fist on top of her other hand. She communicated the following thought "You fucked in the plane?"
"You living’ la vida loca, if you did. No judgement, babes. I'm not God's servant and don't plan on becoming one." Theresa highlighted.
"Oh, heck yes! Girl, you better get it." Bianca championed.
"No, he had me ride his face in the airport." You finally let them know.
"Hello 911, I would like to report depravity in a public restroom. Please, make sure to be here in fifteen minutes…"Marjorie joked about it.
The other girls are cackling on the phone way too hard and honestly you also ended up getting teary eyed with all this laughter. Good times!
"You livin’ the dream. I hope you really sat on it." Bianca implied.
"Tell us more, you ouchtea living that erotica book lifestyle!" Theresa stated.
"I swear I’m not. I feel a little lost." You uttered.
"About what?" Theresa suggested.
"Spill the beans, babe." Bianca voiced.
"We’re listening." Marjorie delivered.
"Leonard seems like a past thing now. I know I asked for a break but I can’t help and sometimes see him in Beni." You said.
"I think I know what you mean."Bianca estimated.
"You’re not wrong for thinking that." Marjorie conveyed.
"It’s not something to worry 'bout. I'm sure the future has something better in store for you." Theresa responded.
Benimaru knocks on the door. He asks:
"Y/n, we’re leaving for an afternoon tea in half an hour."
"Girls, hold on. I’ll be back in a few."
"Okay. I’ll be ready by then."
"May I come in?"
"Yes."
"I just need a few documents for a business partner who happened to come. I won’t bother you for long."
She goes back to her phone and Bianca really shouts on the phone,
"Is that him?"
"Girl, being discreet never been your forte."
"I second that."
"Yes, it is."
"Make him say hi, I’m tryna see something."
"Beni?"
"Yes, my love."
"Would you mind saying hi to the girls on the phone?"
"It would be a pleasure, honey."
"Just so you know, Bianca is the girl with curly hair, Theresa has a mullet Marjorie is the redhead."
"Okay. May you let me see them?"
"Undoubtedly."
She puts the phone in front of him and he pulls her closer to him "Hi, I am Beni, the man who’s currently taking care of your friend abroad."
"Pleasure to meet you Bianca, Marjorie and Theresa!"
"Waouh! He looks so good like that." Marjorie acquiesced.
"Is that gel on your hair or something else?" Bianca questioned.
"No, it’s wax. Thank you for noticing." And he winks at her. What is he doing?
"You’re treating our girl right, right?" Theresa inquired.
He looks at her "Am I treating you right," he grabs her chin and caresses her lips with his thumb, "sweetie?"
On the other side of the line, the girls are going off with their much awaited exclamations such as "Lord!! This is way to hot. Am I currently in the city called hell?" Marjorie said.
"Damn it gurl, he really had to pull that move on us? Called us single in many ways. I feel ashamed now." Theresa uttered.
"Jeez… I got a man but to be pampered that way is a dream." Bianca replied.
For a few minutes it was as if the girls never made part of the convo so they waited for an answer you never gave. It was him who told them.
"I’m sure I'm taking care of her fairly well. As you can see she forgot to respond you and if it’s not the case, she’ll let you know. That way you can get me back on track, isn’t that right, girls?"
Theresa: Absolutely!
Bianca: No problem!
Marjorie: Got it!
"See, your girls have your back Y/n. Now, if you excuse me.
It was lovely to get to meet you guys. I hope we can meet in person, sometime. I have some matters to attend. I wish a wonderful afternoon to all of you."
And with that he leaves, giving you a forehead kiss in the process.
"That’s how he treats you," Bianca added "you a lucky bitch, I have to admit."
"Girl… I want that lovey dovey too," Marjorie communicated.
"Let me put spirit on speed dial for you gurls, do not waver. I got you."Theresa said.
"Theresa thank you for saving us,"both Marjorie and Bianca answered.
"What’s planned for now?" Theresa questioned.
"Oh, we’ll go to a tea place later."
"Ooh, nice." Bianca blurted.
"Don’t forget the pics." Marjorie reminded her.
"Have fun!" Bianca enthusiastically yelled.
"And tomorrow, we’ll go to the Louvre museum."
"Sis! Switch places, asap!" Marjorie cried out.
"What are you saying, Marjorie?"
"Don’t listen to them, Y/n just live it up."
"I’m heading to my pilates class so, bye babes. Take care."
"You’re instructing now?"
"Yes."
"Congratulations Bianca! I knew you would make it."
"Imma doze off after being on night shifts for the month you know, tryna make ends meet…"
"I get it, you should get your well deserved rest."
"The online sales are doing a bit too well so much that I can barely keep up with orders. I’m grateful for my efforts are finally paying off."
"You’re so right, I’m happy for you. Love you."
"Me too."
"See ya!"
"Bye."
Now, I’m left with choosing the outfit. I think it’s safe to check the weather to avoid any unwanted surprises and maybe a hoodie. It looks windy out here and don’t want to risk getting sick, I’m not taking any chances.
"What do you think about this dress?"
"Whatever you put on will look divine on you."
"Really?"
"Surely!"
"You’re not really helping, you know that?"
"Sorry. I’m a simple man for a lot of stuff."
"No need to apologise."
I’ll put on boots with the fit just because it looks better. A lil’ make up nothing too extravagant and fix it with the setting spray.
"Can you twirl for me?"
"Why?"
"I just want to admire your beauty. Is that too much to ask?"
"No." You proceeded to executed what he told you to do. You twirled on your feet. When you're back to your initial position, facing him, he proclaims the following about you: "You look divine! Sometimes, I do wonder why is that I didn’t get you for me only, sooner…"
"Why is that?" You beamed with curiosity.
"Because we look great together."
You have to acknowledge him. He doesn't lie. A quick glance on the mirror facing his back and you two do look magnificent as a pair.
"We do."
"And I love to watch your body quiver with pleasure."
"You want me to tell you everything I adore about you, too?"
"If you feel like it go ahead."
"You're being cocky, stop it."
"I love being cocky. There's nothing wrong with that plus I get to watch you being under my spell. What more could I ask?"
"I think we should get going."
At the tea place un Quatre quarts*, you followed Beni and the waitress to a room he reserved for the both of you.
"This way, we’ll be on our own and have a little privacy."
"This place is so cozy. I love it."
"I am delighted to hear you do. The owner is a friend of mine whom wanted to become a firefighter because it was a job her parents admired so much but her passion was baking and watch people eat her creations. So naturally, she seized the chance to become what she was truly made for."
It’s the first time you’ve seen Beni talk about someone else with such eulogistic manner and that allows you to watch one his his many facets appear right before you. Yes, Beni’s hot and all that (without a doubt) but it’s extremely refreshing to see him being so affectionate towards someone else other than you. It almost makes you want to sit on his lap and kiss his forehead. Something that Leo never triggered like emotion: being proud of the one you’re currently with. Wow, it did render you speechless.
"We should take a look at the menu, I’m sure what they have is also really good."
"Sure. If it’s as good as you, I’ll bite."
"Earth to Beni? Beni, do you hear me?"
You waved your hand in front of his face, "Beni are you even listening to me?"
You try again "Oi!"
"Yes."
"What got you smiling like that?"
"You."
"Oh, really?
"Why would I be lying to a pretty girl like you?"
"Okay, I get it. Do you plan on embarrassing me the whole time?"
"Beautiful beings should be appreciated with all my praise. I’m making sure I don’t miss mentioning it very often."
"My handsome man."
"I’ll get a strawberry sponge cake and a dandelion tea, I think trying a financier* is good too."
"That sounds delicious. I’ll get a jambon beurre* because it’s been so long since I’ve had one. With a double shot of espresso."
"How do we get to call the waiter?"
"Press on the button present on the middle of the table, one of them will come right up."
Your both enjoying your meal you got a bite of Beni’s sammy and decided you wanted one too. You also fed him a bit of your food and he smiled with all his teeth showing. So cute, you thought.
Someone is coming to your table. By the way they’re dressed, you can grasp that they work in the kitchen of the establishment with a high hair up do, a neat rouge on her lips and a winged eyeliner trait neatly done to die for.
What’s the most striking about her face is the fact that she has heterochromia which makes her even more charming. Her left eye is blue while the right one is green. Like how can one be that beautiful? Girl I feel like rubbing my eyes to check of I’m not seeing things…
"Annelyse!"
"Benimaru!"
"How have you been?"
"Is that how you greet a childhood friend, huh? You come to Paris but don’t even think about contacting me beforehand?"
"Aw, come on don’t be so harsh on me?"
"Harsh, bruva* you don’t got any manners and you’re talking about me being abrasive on you? Revalute your choice of words for all that is deemed sacred!"
"Okay, I’ll do that."
"And much rude of you not to introduce me to the beauty sitting in front of you?"
You’re saying that about me… well, well, well, look at you? I’m starting to second guess myself about men?
"I was about to get to it."
"Then…"
"Her name’s Y/n L/n."
"The infamous university girl you were rad* about? Took you long enough to finally date her, were you scared or someone scared you? She asks him never taking her eyes off of you.
"My pleasure to meet Benimaru’s" she mouths "obsession."
"Same."
"You may ask me anything you feel like knowing about him. Please, do not hesitate."
"Annelyse! I thought you were on my side."
"I never said the contrary so… Stop imagining shit!"
"Her beauty is…"
"I know what you mean. The term you’re looking for probably is enthralling or should I say bewitching."
"More the last one than the former."
"She stole some of my high school girlfriends to let you know about the tea."
"She did that? How could…she do that to you?"
"Didn’t she have her eyes on you while she was talking to me?"
"Yes."
"What did you feel when she was looking at you the way she does?"
"Oh, that’s you you mean…"
"Exactly, that’s how she gets them."
"How many?"
"I can’t actually tell you. You’d think I’m a serial dater if I tell you."
"No, I mean it’s fine by me."
"Did you ask Leo that?"
"No, he told me without me asking matter of fact why do suddenly mention Leo You got beef with him."
No, I had a plate of seafood boil with him. If I tell her this, she'll probably sulk the whole time we're here. I better not act childish right now.
"Why are you siding with someone you’re on a break with?"
"That’s not what I meant."
"I can’t and won’t have beef with him. It would be stupid of mine."
"May I know more?"
"Indubitably! Look up Palais de la Démesure and tell me what you think about it after you’re done reading what you’ve found online. Just a warning, you might not like what you see. One thing is certain, you won’t ever ask me about me being jealous of another man, ever again. It won’t cross your mind."
"We’ll meet Annelyse later this week because there is something she wants to show you. Are you okay with it?"
"I mean why wouldn’t I be okay with what she has to show me…"
"Did you have the time to look it up?"
"Yes, a little."
"What have you learned about it, then?"
"It is a common event and matter in your life alongside Leo’s one."
"Did you look for the translation of the terms?"
"No, I didn’t."
"Wouldn’t you like to know? Curiosity hasn’t stricken you yet?"
"Go ahead and just deliver…"
"Wild Palace or the Palace of Excesses. A place where all of your wicked fantasies shall become true as there is no place for the term undoable to echo in those rooms."
"Honestly, sounds like a good time for me! How do I enter there?"
"You can’t. You have to be summoned by the person who’s the current owner of the place."
"Do you know him?"
"No, no one does. Apparently, he’s a regular man like many of us but each year brings about a new owner. Something about the constant change makes the place more modern, one could say."
"You liked the time you spent there?"
"Yes, it was phenomenal."
"I would love to hear it, sometime."
Back at the hotel
I reminisce vividly of it.
How can one forget a whole week spent with other four men and a woman whom was willing to be used as our personal fuck toy? Of course, there was no way for us to know who she was, what’s her government name or even if she was an inhabitant of the city. We were just told to please ourselves to our hearts content as long as we respect each other in an environment where pleasure and bliss are keywords.
That year, a woman of high ranking was the owner of said palace which made circumstances highly advantageous for women. I must salute her for her proactive measures. Women were the centre of attention and I personally loved that for them. She had also added another rule which was If the woman you’re currently with tends to have more sex with you than all the other guys it could potentially mean that she might want to spend a week with you only and you’ll be assigned to a private suite for such doings, of everything follows through, naturally.
Later on
While browsing on the web about what Benimaru had told me about. I fell upon one porn link. I didn’t really specify what it was or who starred in it but I could get a vague feel that it was amateur type shit, you know, the good stuff which is not staged.
On the screen I see such a voluptuous black woman getting it on with five masked men. The thing is I don’t even know why but somehow wish it were me getting thrown around like that. Yes, she’s livin’ her best life, that is certain but the way she’s on them?? Wow, teach me your ways, girl! She’s got three dicks in her, she’s jerking one with her and has another man who sandwiched his dick between her tits. Long story short, I’m not even halfway through the video that Benimaru barges in the room talking ‘bout "Have you seen my glasses?"
I throw my phone ‘cause I’m not got hide it right and act like I actually am looking for it with it.
"I don’t know," she stammers "hum, where did you leave them?"
"On the night table, normally."
"Okay, I’ll go check if it’s there."
"Is it a grey box?"
"Yes."
"Here you have it, check if it’s inside, you never know."
He does it. "Thank you love and he kisses your lips." That unexpected move really caught you off guard. And he leaves just like that.
And I go look for my phone right where I threw it. Next plan, I can see her now bouncing on three peens while the other two men jerk their manhood as she keeps her mouth open with her tongue out. So raunchy, yet it’s making your panties wet.
The end of the video is topped with a bukkake* scene but what’s new honestly, when it comes to an orgie. I’m left drier than motherfucking saltfish before it is plunged in water for its saltiness to go away.
I know I wanted more than anything a sugardaddy yet after watching this, I’m starting to revaluate my choices. I’m young after all so I should get all the fun I want. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Benimaru is fine but I don’t mind getting another man to take care of me like Leo used to.
I still have his number on my phone, it wouldn’t hurt to call him. I’m just checking how he is doing without me…
On the other side of the globe
"And that is the main reason why we should review the budget for our next big hit. Mister Burns, are you here with us?"
He doesn't really seem like he's in his element…
"Yes, as always excellent presentation Hay Linn, I will excuse myself for now.
If anyone has questions regarding the matter, please, do not waver contacting me or Hay Linn here present. We’ll gladly get back to you as soon as possible.
And with that you’re all dismissed."
Two employees chit chat about their general feels concerning their very first year working for Leonard's company:
"Did you see? Ceo Leo is so nice, I’m so happy we have a boss like him!
"Heck yes, you’re so right about that."
Look, he’s looking rather gloomy these past few days. Does anyone know what happened?
"Sugarbaby gate."
"Oh, that."
"Without a doubt. It has to be it."
"Wait, isn’t that field always like full or maybe shortage has ravaged it?"
"I don’t think it’s that simple…more like he might have to let go of someone he really liked."
"I don’t feel like talking about it anymore. Gon’ make me sad and shit."
"Same here."
Leonard Burns sits down at his desk and runs his hand through his luscious white hair. This day hasn’t been his best but he must remain focused, otherwise rumours will spread like wildfire about him and his rather blue face.
As he tries to cheer himself up to the best of his ability, his phone starts buzzing on his desk. Who could it be at this time of day? He doesn’t have any planned phone calls he quickly checked his schedule before eventually answering that phone call.
"Good afternoon."
"Hello! Am I on the phone with," she pauses before uttering the following terms, "Sir Leonard Burns?"
"Yes, the one and only. How may I help you?"
"Oh, now you’d like to help me. How gentlemanlike of you. Have you forgotten me, perhaps?"
"I’m not sure what you mean, miss. Are you sure we have met before?"
"I am or maybe I should’ve said Daddy Leo?"
"It’s you Y/n, how are you doing? Are Paris and Benimaru being kind to you?"
"I’m a little hurt because you didn’t remember me right away. I am doing well, thank you for asking. Yes, they’re treating the best they can. How are you, my Leo?"
But I somehow know you'd treat me the best as always…
"I’m doing okay, I guess…"
"I know we are on a break but I miss you. I diligently hope we can meet as soon as I land back there. There’s a lot of things I have to let you know.
And you can’t do that on the phone, am I right?"
"As always, you’re so alert."
"You planned to torture me on the phone with that mellifluous voice of yours all day long or you’re going to let me go?"
"I’m not keeping you captive, baby unless you’d like me to!"
"You’re playing with fire Y/n, I advise you not to do it."
"But what’s wrong if I like doing it with you, daddy? Are you going to spank me when I’m back? I’ve grown to like the sting I get each time one your firm hand lays a hit on my delicate skin."
The worst bit of this call is that Leonard is fighting so hard not to get a hard on because that's the last thing he would like to deal with while he's at work, in his office. Yes, people will knock on the door before entering but if he gets one, he'll have to tend to it on the spot.
"I will if you want me to."
"That’s what I like to hear. See you when I’m back then, rawr…"
"I’ll see you then, Y/n."
Chapter 6 of After all, it's not a bad idea to get a sugar daddy
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#leonard burns smut#leonar burns x black reader#shinmon benimaru smut#fire force smut#black reader smut#poc reader#enn enn no shouboutai smut
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Sorry for not being around for a bit, I was busy, trying not to get poisoned. I hope nothing bad happened while I was gone.
But, since you've brought up Inteleons, I want to ask something. Do you think you'd be able to learn Snipe Shot at some point? I dunno, I suppose you could rework Water Pulse to turn people into Swiss cheese?
I'm... not really sure if I can learn it. I've only ever seen snipe shot being used once, so I don't really have a good reference for what to do. I don't actually have much experience using moves, since I've only ever used them for stealth reasons, like using u-turn to quickly run away from a place and using water pulse to shut off a security camera while sneaking into gyms. but I mean, it can't really hurt to try.
but I'm also not sure about how I feel on using it. sure, I'm not a good attacker, but I don't want to accidentally kill anyone. but then again, I could try to use it to break things more easily, since it would be a quicker move than water pulse and it doesn't cause as much of a "splash", so there's less evidence of it being from a water type attack. perhaps I could use it to get revenge on those weird scientist humans. wait. no. what am I even saying?? killing people is bad!! but they did perform unethical experiments on me. hmmm. ok, maybe just the person running the whole operation. but no more killing.
i think I'll try to learn how to use it, but I don't know if it will work well, since from what I've seen, it's done by pointing a finger. I can't really point, since my "fingers", if you'd call them that (or paws but these definitely don't seem like paws) are pretty big. I mean, if I managed to play tetris really well with these things, I could probably use them for more stuff
maybe I might end up doing a different move entirely. but like I said before, it can't hurt to try.
also, since there's like no thing indicating who this is from apart from the "sorry for not being around", I'm assuming this is guy, since you're one of the only people I know
#//ooc: also the part where azure mentioned not wanting to kill people reminded me of an interaction i had with an ai#//ooc: on that one character ai site i talked to an inteleon who saved me from a criminal and the inteleon was like#//ooc: “OH SHIT I JUST KILLED SOMEONE WHAT THE FUCK. UHH UH YOU THERE. HUMAN. WHERE DO WE HIDE THE BODY?”#//ooc: just thought that was pretty interesting
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