Blog of Destiny

Disclaimer: Hostile Work Environment [NSFW]

keystroke — Tue, 10 Feb 2026 00:00:00 +0000

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is completely intentional. Toxic yuri was performed by untrained amateurs. Do not try this at home.

I glowered around the administrative floor. The rumours had been going on for days at this point and I could see it in the way they glanced at me, whispering to their colleagues. I’m sure it wasn’t helped by my mess of hair and the bags under my eyes as I searched.

Little did these idiots know I had done the sane thing of staying up all night to backtrack through the cameras with my backdoor, carefully constructing a node graph of how the rumour spread and eventually finding one woman at the centre of the chart.

Alina Seer.

Her employee profile said she worked in HR—nobody important—until she started making up lies to spread about me for her own entertainment. Luckily she had a picture on file, and so I scanned the room.

There.

Our eyes met and I started pushing through the crowd. To her credit she didn’t run, standing her ground as I stormed up to her, doing my best to look imposing despite having to look up multiple inches.

It was like looking into one of those funhouse mirrors; where I was short and chubby with fat rounding my features, she was tall and slim with sharp eyes. Her iris’ were chocolate brown like my own, matching the curly hair cascading down our backs. Unlike me she had bothered to pierce her ears and outfit them with gaudy hoops.

My glare passed through two sets of lenses to meet hers.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I know you’ve been spreading rumours about me for the past week, don’t play dumb.”

“I have no idea where these baseless accusations are coming from.” She had the gall to smirk. Bitch.

“You don’t think I didn’t see you on the cameras? You know who I am. You know I have access.”

Her eyes rolled. “Wow miss, maybe you should get some sleep if you’re seeing things. Preferably in a straitjacket and a room with padded walls.”

A frustrated growl slipped through my lips. “I know it’s fucking you, don’t think I can’t tear your life here apart if you don’t fucking tell me!”

She smirked. “Whatever you say, Goddess.”

My blood ran cold and hot all at once and it took all my will not to slam her into a wall then and there. My next words came out low and clad in steel.

“Where did you hear that?”

She cooed back softly. “HR secret, sweetie,” her smug grin returning. “Not mine to tell.”

I slammed her into the wall. Her smile faltered as the air pushed out of her, but not for long. Gods, I must have had at least thirty kilos on her, I could snap her like a stick. I caught sight of her smile again and realised how much I wanted to.

Before I could do anything else, her foot snapped into my shin. I hissed in pain and pulled my foot back, throwing me off-balance. She shoved into me, pushing me stumbling away from the wall and landing a punch right on my tit before backing off.

I cough up several expletives as she watches. That bitch.

“Fuck— Fuck you.”

She gave a mocking little curtsy for good measure. “Maybe think twice before descending from your heavenly perch next time, Goddess,” and walked away. I wish I had broken her in half.

I glared around the room at the passers-by who witnessed whatever that was, letting them look away and return to their business before checking my watch. Shit, I was late. I hoped my boss wouldn’t comment on my appearance; we didn’t have a dress code but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t probe.

Thankfully the rest of the day should be uneventful, leaving me to think about my retaliation as I filed personnel reports. A challenge like that couldn’t be ignored.

My shin still felt sore from yesterday as I woke up, rolling over to check my alarm and finding it an hour past when it was due to go off. I gave myself ten seconds to process it before I pushed myself out of bed with a groan.
Shedding my sleepwear and putting some bread in the toaster I tried not to think about the reason for my lack of sleep; what I had done when I couldn’t get that smile out of my head, what I wish I could do to those lips— I focused intently on my shirt and the process of putting it on, buttering my toast with more force than necessary and still chewing it as I scrambled out the door to catch the elevator from accommodation to administration.
I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts, navigating the hallways leading from my unit to the elevator lobby as fast as I could while still walking. As I turned the last corner and the elevator came into sight, I locked eyes with a familiar tall brunette bitch.
I sped up, barely not jogging and managed to just force my body between the doors as they started closing, the safety features letting me enter unhindered. She held my stare, as she had since I rounded the corner, her finger still on the close door button.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” she said, voice thick with obvious sarcasm.
I growled back, a low noise in my throat expressing frustrations that couldn’t hope to be found in mere words this early in the morning. Two bystander’s eyes flicked between us. It was slightly late; we had missed out on the standard morning crush thankfully, but there were still witnesses.
Taking that as my reply, she continued. “Back for round two?”
“You cheated.”
“Goddess forbid a girl use self-defence.” She knew what she was doing, still staring directly into my eyes.
“Self-defence?? You started this! This is your fault!”
“Started what hmm? You having weak and kickable shins?”
“You’re only doing this because there are witnesses, if there weren’t I’d—”
“You’d what, get your ass beat again?”
“Put you in your place,” I finished.
Her mocking laughter seemed to echo more in the confines of the elevator as she took her eyes off me for the first time, eventually resettling on my eyes.
“I’d like to see you try,” she smirked, with those stupid lips of hers.
Unable to do anything else, I stared back, unwilling to let her win. The silence dragged on for several more seconds, the elevator let out a soft ‘ding’ and we held each others gaze until—
“Kiss kiss kiss kiss—”
My gaze shifted onto the two girls in the elevator with us, beneath my notice until now. They were both shorter than me and holding hands, at least one had the good sense to recognise who I was and look afraid.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” My voice was short, clipped and controlled.
The other didn’t look as afraid as she should be while she spoke. “I was just noticing the sexual tension between you two, uh… ma’am?”
Sexual tension? What the fuck was wrong with this girl? She had clearly been reading too much fanfiction.
“I wouldn’t sleep with her were we the last two women on earth.” I hiss, making my position clear.
There was a snort from the other side of the elevator.
“Like I would ever be desperate enough to settle for you anyway.” She huffed.
I turned back to literally hiss at her.
“C’mon Tsuki’, lets go.” The one with more sense pulled at her friend’s arm. I glared at them as they backed out the door, then ran.
I let out a chuff at my victory before turning back to Alina, stepping into her space. “This isn’t over,” I kept my voice low before turning around and walking out. She wasn’t worth being late for again, and this time I had a plan coming together as I took a few extra turns to make sure she wasn’t following me.
I made my way to the far end of administration, using the time to cool off before I arrived at the large oak doors the entire compound was centred around. After a breath I opened them, walking into the Overlord’s inner sanctum and over to my desk. Neat. Tidy. Finally an environment I had complete control over. I let out a sigh of relief.
“Something the matter minion?”
My boss, the Overlord, was already here of course. I don’t know how morning people did it.
“No boss, just some stupid drama.” My computer whirred and let out a series of satisfying beeps as it booted up. Completely superfluous of course, but they made me feel better, as did the bulky CRT display.
“Oh?” My attempts to brush her off didn’t usually work, but it never hurt to try.
“Someone jealous of my position. I put her down.” I pulled up the remote assistant tool and filtered by Alina’s name, quickly finding her computer. Thank gods for standardised usernames.
No doubt she had abused her HR privileges to give herself access to the relationship section of my personnel file. Well two could play at that game.
“That doesn’t sound like the report I got about a scuffle in Administration yesterday.”
I finally turned to her, seated in the centre of the cavernous room with a thick marble slab that could hardly be called a desk. She leaned forwards slightly, with a smirk in her eyes that didn’t reach the rest of her face. Despite her menacing appearance, the Overlord was a notorious gossip.
I huffed. “She started it, if you must know.”
“Which is why you pinned…” She ruffled some papers on her desk, of course she had printouts. Evidently finding the right one, she adjusted her glasses. “…Miss Seer to the wall and threatened her?” Her voice betrayed her clear interest.
“It was necessary.”
“Was it necessary to publicly assault a fellow employee? I don’t judge what you get up to in the bedroom, but it becomes an issue if it spills out into the halls.”
“Wha— It’s not like that!”
“Sure, sure. You two could at least sign a rivalry form to make sure this goes through the proper channels.”
“There’s nothing there,” I growled. “A rivalry implies she’s anywhere near my equal. I’m done talking about this, you won’t get any more reports.”
She looked at me with doubt. “Very well minion. I’m just trying to look out for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know boss, it’s under control.”
“Well then, if your schedule’s so clear I hear Claire in Analytics is planning on throwing a bitchin’ party at the bar on sub-level 3.”
“You know parties aren’t my scene.”
“You could do with a buzz and meeting new people. Tell me you weren’t just planning to go home and read after this.”
“It wouldn’t necessarily have been reading.”
“See! You need to go meet friends, maybe a girl,” she said with a wink.
“If I go will you stop asking about my love life for a month?”
“A week.”
“Deal.”
“Good minion.” She let out a smile before turning back to what was presumably her real work and not just more shipping reports from HR.
She was right, as usual. A party would be a good way to let loose and blow off this stress I had been carrying. Not that I could let her know that as I rolled my eyes and turned back to my computer.
In the preview window I could see Alina’s desktop, looked like she had her browser open reading fanfiction. Of course. Ignoring her bad taste, I noted the absurd amount of tabs open above her reading material. Be a shame if someone lost what she was keeping track of.
I opened up a background session into her computer, drilling down into the browser configuration and deleting the profile before logging into the organisation cloud drive and deleting the backup. Nothing should be amiss until her next restart, but then everything would be gone.
Letting myself crack a small smile in my act of petty revenge, I closed the session to get back to my actual responsibilities. Someone had trashed another frame down in the mech bay and drawing up the expense report for it would be sure to prove distracting enough to take my mind off the irritant until the party later.

“Ugnnn…”
I groaned softly, my head throbbing with the tell-tale sign of a hangover. Shit, I certainly hadn’t meant to drink that much, preferring to keep lightly buzzed at parties so I could enjoy the conversation.
Eyes still squeezed tightly shut, the first thing I noticed was the soft warmth in my arms, someone’s back pressed close to my chest, skinny enough that my hands could touch the opposite elbow. Second thing I noticed was the scent of artificial flowers coming off the pillow, and the head nestled under my chin.
How the fuck had I ended up in someone’s bed? My memories of how last night went were hazy, but I didn’t think I was the kind of girl to be picked up and spend the night cuddling with a stranger. It had certainly never happened before.
The bundle of hair in my arms sighed and shifted slightly, and I offered a light squeeze in response. Finally opening my eyes I was greeted with a messy bedroom, bookshelves covering the walls with an assortment of comics and young adult novels, and several pride flags: Trans, lesbian, and the catch-all progress flag.
Good, whatever happened at least I didn’t end up in the room of a complete weirdo.
The probably-girl (I figured at this point) wriggled closer into me, the smooth skin of their back rubbing my chest when they suddenly freeze up. Must not have expected to wake up like this either.
They wriggle out of my arms and I catch a glimpse of gaudy ear hoops as they turn to face me. Fuck.
She looks different without her signature crystal-mom glasses, but it’s unmistakably her.
Her eyes widen with the same realisation, suddenly shoving me off the bed and onto the floor, a thin rug the only thing cushioning my fall.
“Ow, fuck!”
“What the fuck are you doing here?? Get out! Leave!”
She frantically bunched the blankets up around her, her demeanour had a neurotic tone to it that our previous arguments didn’t have. It twinged unnervingly in the back of my head.
“Clearly you must have invited me here, weirdo.”
“Get the fuck out of my room!”
“Fine! Let me get my shit.”
She glared at me from her bed like one of our automated ceiling turrets as I scooped my shirt off the floor with one hand, the other covering my bare chest before turning around to hastily pull it on.
“It’s not like I wanted to be here anyway, idiot.” I grumble under my breath, doing a visual sweep of the room for anything else before storming out, slamming the door behind me. I stopped to breathe, leaning against the door. What the fuck had we done last night?
Patting down my pockets to make sure I didn’t lose anything, I looked around, recognising the familiar hallways of the accommodations level and noted the sign stating I was only one sub-level below mine. I hurried through the hallways back to my own sanctum to change into something that didn’t smell of flowers, and throw myself into a book where I wouldn’t have to think about what just happened.
Thank the Overlord today was the weekend.

The rest of the weekend passed without incident. Maybe Alina finally learnt her lesson and stayed down like the bitch she was, our last encounter seemed like it had rattled her pretty bad. Hell, I doubted a loser like her even had anything to leave her room for when not working, she sure looked like a shut-in.
It was finally Monday night as I left my office, staying late to finalise some paperwork since it’s not like I had a long commute home. I closed the door behind me and started walking through the mostly-empty corridors, lighting dimmed to give the illusion of evening.
Walking through an intersection, the corner of my eye catches a tall figure walking away from me. I know that ass-length hair cascading down her figure, messier than the previous times I’ve seen it.
I smirked. Definitely a shut-in.
“Well if it isn’t the freak. Scream at any more hookups recently?”
She whirled around, eyes wide for a second with an expression I can’t read before narrowing into sharp anger.
“I wouldn’t know, I’m not the one ending up in drunk girls’ beds.” She stomped up to me.
“If you have an idea of what happened feel free to tell me, you know I didn’t want to end up in your shitty room—”
Her attack catches me off guard as she claws at my face and I just barely manage to flinch back in time, still ending up with a sting of pain on my cheek. I grab at her wrists, grabbing one as she twists away before shouldering her into the wall.
The metal glint of a supply closet latch catches my eye, and I reach for it with my spare hand as she scratches my arm, yanking it open and grabbing at her wrist again. This time I catch it, squeezing the delicate bones tight in my hands.
I manage to shove her into the supply closet, kicking it hard enough on the way in that it rebounds off the wall and closes with a slam behind us. I push her up against the wall, making sure to control her wrists. Finally, somewhere we won’t be interrupted and I can teach this stuck-up bitch with delusions of grandeur a lesson.
I step inside her guard, making sure she can’t snap a foot into my shin again. It presses our bodies against each other, the warmth and sweat from the brief struggle becoming more apparent. Her skin is hot, and her scent is—
Her head slams into mine hard enough that my vision flashes white, a hiss of pain escaping my teeth.
“You bitch!” I spat.
One impulse flashes through my mind, white hot.
Hurt.
My fingers sink deeper into her skin, nails seeking out the soft flesh under her wrists and her twisted sneer falters as I drag a whimper out of her. I push my head up against her cheek, forcing it back against the wall before swinging my teeth down into the side of her neck, biting hard.
I taste blood as a scream fills the tiny room. She tries to headbutt me again, but doesn’t have the leverage with me in this close. Her whole body writhes against me and I shove back with all of mine, determined to keep the advantage, hurt her until she learns her lesson.
Her hair and sweat mix with the blood in my mouth, and this close I can smell the artificial flowers I remember smelling on her pillow. I bring my knee up to keep her hips pinned against the wall and feel a different kind of heat between her legs. Gods, was she getting off on this? She must be even more pathetic than I thought if this was the most a woman had touched her.
I ground my knee into her bulge, aiming for cruelty and feeling the pained cries deepen in her throat. Maybe it wasn’t enough to simply hurt her, maybe she needed to be disciplined, possessed. I couldn’t help but grin against her neck as I released a wrist to grab her waist, my hand fitting around it as I dug my nails in and dragged her against me, trusting her desperation to keep her compliant.
Instead she pushed off the wall, staying close to me as I stumbled back onto two feet. A mix of blood and saliva dripped down my chin and her collarbone, the latter heaving with deep breaths as she leveraged her extra height to slam me into the other side of the closet.
“I didn’t know you were so needy, Goddess,” her voice dripped with false honey.
The back of my head cracked against the wall, not as hard as the headbutt but enough to send a lance of pain through me.
“Fuck you.” I managed to spit, trying to push myself up where I had slumped against the wall.
She grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look up at her.
“If you insist, Goddess.”
Her other hand pushed down on my shoulder, putting an end to my attempts to straighten out my legs and keeping them too bent to push back. She towered over me.
“You’ll make a girl think you want something from her, cornering her in a dark hallway and pushing your knee between her legs.”
“The only thing I want is for you to crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”
My words came out weakly as my chest heaved. Fuck I was out of shape. She was toned in comparison. Not in a way that filled out her figure, but I had felt the wires under her skin during our grapple.
She gave a non-committal hum as her hand played with the collar of my shirt, keeping it pulled taut to hold pressure on my neck. We stay like that for a few seconds, eyes locked.
I blink.
Her hand yanks down on my collar, jolting me downwards as she does it again to the sound of ripping fabric. She continues downwards until her knuckles graze my abdomen, ripping my t-shirt wide open. It’s only when the now-hot air of the closet hits my sternum I belatedly remember I’m not wearing a bra.
Suddenly faced with vulnerability I lunge towards her waist, letting myself fall slightly so I can use my hands to grapple. She slams me into the wall again, putting her whole body behind it as air exits my lungs. I use what I have left to growl at her as she pulls me up by her chin, leaning down towards me in turn. Her head passes mine and I feel hot breath on my collarbone.
The growl in my throat is cut off by a pathetic squeak as my nerves sing, the equal parts pleasure and pain mixing with the adrenaline shot through my system in a heady cocktail.
My nails scramble up her figure and find shoulders to dig into, but it doesn’t slow her down as she sinks in below my shoulder. Not content to leave it at payback, her lips start to trail down my chest, brushing my tattered shirt aside as she marks it with harsh bite after harsh bite.
I try to protest but all that comes out is a strangled whimper, my lungs betraying me, empty of air. My legs don’t work, shaking on the verge of collapse as neurons fire in places they shouldn’t. Her lips pull away halfway down my belly and I squeeze my thighs together to try and not think about what if they had gone further.
She straightens up, rising to her full height before letting go of me to fall on my heels. I look away but I know she’s looking down on me with a sneer, disappointment. The silence left as she opens the closet door and walks back out into the hallway is worse than any parting barb.
Still panting, I try to put myself back in control—my train of thought more like a washing machine with a brick. It takes minutes until I’m ready to pull myself back up to my feet and stumble back out into the hallway, oh so thankful for it being late evening in the admin wing; providing relative privacy and a level of lighting my new headache found bearable.
Slowly I managed to limp my way back to my apartment, only needing to avoid being seen a couple of times. I double check the door is locked behind me and collapse onto the bed, focusing on my breathing until the shaking abides.
I try to think about what happened, how it happened, how she took control so easily. I couldn’t let it happen again. Rolling onto my side I pull out my phone and start planning, excitement—or something like it—starting to bubble in my chest as I sketch out my retaliatory strike.

It had taken some serious bribery in order to get a mech bay to myself for the day, promising to go on a date with the ops manager; Winter. Not that I minded, she was cute and I was certain it would be more fun than what I was currently doing in a rat’s nest of auxiliary power cables. I needed to make sure the empty frame I was climbing over could operate some basic functionality but nothing else.
I had spent the past two weeks planning today out, letting Alina think she had won while plotting my next move. The time was needed regardless, the work order I had forged into her queue would look suspicious if it came in the same day and I had to show up with high-collared shirts and pretend everything was normal with my boss.
The mech powered on for me to test my handiwork, making sure the movement systems were unpowered and no weapons were mounted to the hardpoints while the cockpit door, harness and MFDs were all functional. I had made sure this was an empty frame—one without an AI—as I didn’t want any witnesses.
Going through my checklist one final time I marked off my preparations before leaving the cockpit, taking a seat on its mechanical talon to catch my breath. My work singlet was sweaty from my clambering around and my hair tied back for clarity. The only thing separating me from looking like any other mech tech was the comparative lack of grease.
I looked up at the metal body towering over me, leaning my head back against its ankle and felt a familiar twinge in my chest. It was a medium-sized frame built for multi-role capabilities; single-seater with a large cockpit—not saying much for a mech—and plenty of hardpoints for mounting everything from cannons to sensor arrays.
I tore my eyes away from lingering on the empty hardpoints. She probably wouldn’t be around for a few hours still, so I stood up, now recovered, and moved out of sight behind some ordinance covered with a tarp. With an alarm set on my PDA I slipped it back into my cargo pants and waited.
A loud clang echoed throughout the bay, jolting me awake. The door. I heard footsteps on concrete echoing as she walked in, surely looking around as I kept my head down.
“Hello?”
I cancelled the alarm on my PDA and pulled up my remote access into the mech, playing an audio file I had loaded earlier.
“Just up here, in the cockpit.” A synthetic voice plays from the external speakers. The footsteps shift from concrete to metal as she starts climbing the rungs up the machine.
I can see from the cockpit camera the moment she climbs in the open hatch, all the dashboard lights turned on and blinking in the illusion of activity. It takes her a few seconds to settle into the pilot seat with her clipboard before speaking again.
“Soooo… you wanted to discuss negotiations with your polycule with HR? I can certainly help with that—”
The restraining harness pulled down over her chest as I ran my script and locked out the override before stowing the PDA and climbing my own way up the frame. I could hear her surprise, followed by a brief struggle with the unmoving harness and a rapid clicking of the non-functional release before I could look through the hatch.
She saw me and rolled her head back in frustration. “Ei helvetti.”
“Thought you could get rid of me so easily?”
“I should have guessed you were into bondage Goddess.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself, coward.”
I step into the cockpit, having to hunch over her in the tight space, keeping myself upright by holding onto the canopy handle.
“Are you trying to make this horny?”
She breaks eye contact to slowly look down at the several hickeys exposed by my low-cut neckline before looking back at me. I do my best not to blush.
“Nice top, did you wear it just to show off for me?”
Grabbing her chin with one hand I move closer into her space. “Answer the question.”
She looks back at me with an innocent yet oh-so-smug look on her face. “I’m not the setting up elaborate bondage traps sweetie. How long did this take you hmm?”
“Two weeks.”
“Wow, you should charge rent if I’m living in your head already.”
“Shut up.” My grip pushes her head back into the headrest, pinning it in place. “I’m in charge here.”
“Are you though, Goddess? Are you really in control here?”
My eyes narrow. “Yes. I planned this out. You have no backup. I caught you.”
She laughs, and I let go of her chin to slap across her face. Her laugh stops and she looks shocked, blinking before touching her fingertips to her cheek.
“I didn’t think you had it in you Goddess.”
“I can do worse.”
“Uhuh? I don’t believe that for a second.”
I growl at her as I fumble around in my pockets before pulling out a small hunting knife and unfolding the blade. Her eyes widen for a moment before slipping back into a guarded expression.
“Compensating for something?”
“You say that when it’s big, idiot.”
“I just thought it must be, compared to whatever you’re packing.”
“Didn’t get the chance to feel me up last time?”
“I’m not sure there’s much to feel up.”
“Which is why you were eye-fucking me earlier, sure.”
“You’re imagining things.”
I huff and definitely not pout as I press the tip of the knife into her collarbone, not hard enough to pierce skin. For once she shuts up and freezes.
“Enough. I’m going to pay you back for what you did to me.”
The tip of the knife glides over her skin as I pull it down to the neckline of her crop top, catching the hem before carefully ripping through it. Once through the hem it pulls easily down her chest, parting the fabric before finishing above her abdomen.
I move the knife back up, this time with the blade pointed upwards as I catch it under her bra strap.
“You gonna pay me back for that fucking shirt?”
“No.”
“Bitch.”
I flick the knife, severing her bra strap before folding the knife away in my palm.
“Wanted to see my tits that bad?”
“I’m not sure there’s much to see,” I smirk.
“Yet you’re still trying to see them.”
“You saw mine, and didn’t even ask.”
“And what a disappointing view it was.”
I snorted. “Whatever, I don’t need your approval.”
My arm was getting tired as I stepped forward, straddling the seat and sitting down in her lap, still maintaining half a head of height over her. I rest my arms over her shoulders and stare down at her with my best condescending smile.
“Your actions tell a completely different story Goddess.”
Ignoring her, I lean down next to her ear and whisper. “Here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to give up, and if you don’t I’ll find a way to make you regret it. Trust me, everything up to now was just foreplay.”
“Foreplay hmm? Who’s the pervert now? I don’t think you have it in you.”
I slide up her thighs until our bodies touch, holding my eyes with hers as I wrap a hand around her hair and pull down. Her composure breaks with a gasp and she tries to push me off her. “Ah! Watch the hair bitch!”
I pull harder. “Give up. You know I’m out of your league.”
Her voice is strained as she responds, but smug nonetheless. “And yet here you are, straddling my lap.”
My teeth find their way into her neck, keeping her head pulled back as I push deep into her trapezius. She lets out a restrained moan, a response that only makes me want to bite harder as her hands fail to find any grip on me.
When I pull away the skin on her shoulder is red surrounding the raw bite mark, saliva streaked with blood on her collarbone. It mirrors the faded mark I left weeks ago. I catch my breath, letting go of her hair to rub a thumb over the mark.
“Give up.”
“In your dreams.”
My thumb grinds into my mark, drawing a pained hiss from between her teeth before it moves to grasp her chin. I lean in close to her face as I pull her lips open and spit into it.
She recoils and tries to squirm away. “You’re disgusting.”
“You can stop this whenever you want.”
“And let a pathetic friendless loser like you think she’s won?”
I growl and unfold the knife in my free hand, pressing the blade against her cheek only an inch from her eye.
“I. Have. Won. I became second in command of this whole fucking operation and I don’t need a pathetic fucking upstart to try and tell me about friends I don’t fucking—”
She lets out a whimper and my eyes focus again, seeing the curtain of blood trickling down her cheek.
“Fuck. Fuck!”
Reality crashes back into me as I pull the knife back and see the edge glisten with more than just steel. I hadn’t left a scratch, I had lost control and the blade had pressed in deep, creating an inches-long gash that was now starting to drip onto her ripped top.
She stares at me in disbelief, bringing her hand up to touch her cheek and looking at the blood coating her fingertip.
I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. Fuck. I needed to get out of here. That would need stitches and medical would report it and I could be banished—
I pocketed the knife and stepped out of the cockpit, gulping down air not warmed by two bodies in an enclosed space. I didn’t know what would happen next, but I couldn’t go back to my room as I waited to find out in case they looked for me there.
I climbed down the mech and started running. There was a building on the west side of the compound with no cameras on the roof and backed against a cliff that had a perilous—but possible—path down in case I needed to leave. It’s not like I had friends here anyway. I could wait there until I decided on my next move.
My feet hit the ground in a repetitive cycle, the building was a fair distance and I wasn’t in the best shape, but I had to get there before she could free herself. The grey corridors kept going and I bumped into a few coworkers, one of them even yelled after me.
After running up a flight of stairs to rooftop access I collapsed against a wall, panting badly. My ears were ringing and a vignette threatened to encroach on my vision. I closed my eyes and felt it slip away.

Pain radiated through my face, jolting me awake.
My eyes blinked and focused just in time for me to deflect the fist headed for my face.
My muscles still ached as I shoved her out of my lap, sending her stumbling backwards as I got my feet under me and pushed myself up the wall at my back.
She recovered, staring at me with a fresh pad of gauze taped across her left cheek. She looked almost as exhausted as I felt, but still squared up against me.
“You.”
“Me,” she confirmed.
She shuffled forwards and threw another clumsy punch at me. I caught it on my tit with a hiss of pain, grabbing at the fist and driving my elbow into her forearm. Her body pitched into me and she went for a headbutt, hitting me square in the cheek.
My arms grabbed at her as blood started to trickle into my mouth from where teeth cut into my cheek, pulling her around and throwing her to the ground. Like a wounded animal she clung to me, dragging me down with her as we rolled onto the concrete.
I slammed her shoulders into the ground, rolling on top of her with her waist between my legs.
“Just. Fucking. Stop!”
Her claws dug into my wrist, forcing a hiss from my throat as I shook off her hand and went for her face, swiping at it before pushing her head back down into the concrete. Finding strength from somewhere she twisted away from my arm and pulled me down next to her, getting her legs between us to kick at me.
Her shirt pulled taunt as I used it to drag her closer, reducing her leverage as I wrapped my arms around her torso. We grappled, and I could feel her chest heave with each breath, her eyes burning with hate, and my ears ringing as the roof access door was kicked open with a flashbang.
Everything happened fast as two armed guards filed out onto the rooftop, pulling us apart and restraining us with handcuffs before we were pulled to our feet and escorted to a cell. I recognised it as one we used to interrogate enemy agents as the guards made sure to secure us both to the table by our handcuffs, a metre separating us so there was no chance of being able to fight.
I glowered at her stupid face as the rest of the security personnel filed out, leaving just one CUPID officer with us. He looked between us with an expectant gaze, clearly waiting for the two of us to “talk it out”.
I took a deep breath, if I couldn’t beat her physically I still had one other option. I opened my mouth and—
“I FUCKING HATE YOU—”
“I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE—”
We yelled in unison. Silence followed.
“…What?”
“I just— I just thought you were really cool and wanted to get your attention, but things kept escalating and, and—” Alina stammered out and sobbed on the table.
“You thought you could get my attention by spreading rumours?—”
“AND NOW YOU HATE ME!” She wailed and collapsed on the table to sob more.
“You could have not fucked with me!”
“If—” Another sob wracked her body, “—if I backed down then you’d think I was weak and lose interest in meeee.” The last syllable dragged on.
“That doesn’t make any sense, you could have just asked to be friends, or even taken me to dinner! You think I would have said no?”
Alina started sobbing even harder. I stared at her awkwardly, wondering how it even got this far. Everything I had done she had fought back just as hard; we were nemesis’, weren’t we?
I felt the flame inside me that I kept burning for her go out, as if extinguished by a cold draft. As much as I hated her, it had kept me going for the past few weeks. She was the only relationship I had outside of the Overlord—a hostile one, but a relationship nonetheless.
It hit me that everything I had done for weeks had been because of her and she hadn’t even felt the passion of hatred when retaliating, she was just a girl with a misguided crush and a negative level of social awareness. I sunk into the table, eyes unfocusing into the middle distance as I choked back a sob.
I had done so much for her—to her—for what? The cell door slammed open.
“Madeline BT-Seven-Two-Seven-Four Autumn; what is the meaning of this?”
I whimpered. I couldn’t remember the last time she had used my name, let alone all of them.
“Well?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You told me you had this under control—” She turned to look at Alina, who also looked like a deer in headlights. “—And while I understand the homoeroticism of combat is appealing, maiming feels inadvisable.”
“The knife slipped.”
“Which is why we had a whole seminar about proper knife safety.”
I remembered that seminar because I had spent most of it flirting online. The floor became very interesting very quickly. My next words were murmured out quietly.
“She just wouldn’t stop.”
“I didn’t see you stopping at any point when spending two weeks to set up a trap.” She rounded on Alina. “And you: At what point did you think that antagonising my second in command was a good idea?”
She looked ashamed. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
The Overlord sighed, face in her hand.
“Stalking, cyberstalking, misuse of organisational resources, assault—” She paused. “—whatever kind of war crime of hatefucking was going on, we’re going to have to add a new rule for that. Because this is a first-time offence, and clearly you’re both idiots, you won’t be fired.
“But: You’re both on probation until cleared by a therapist, individual and couple sessions are mandatory.”
“But we’re not a couple! She doesn’t even really hate me!” I spoke up in our defence while Alina just looked between us in surprise.
She snorted. “You still put more effort into beating her up than I’ve seen most women put into dates, and clearly she needs to learn what normal methods to make friends are.”
I sighed. I wasn’t getting out of this. “Fine,” I turned to face Alina, who was still doing her best deer impression. “You gonna say anything?”
She looked like a mess with tear tracks running down her face, but managed to speak to the Overlord with only a slight stutter. “Thank you for your forgiveness ma’am.” I rolled my eyes at her submission.
“Good. Now these fine folk will escort you back to your rooms, you’ll receive an email with your therapy schedule and I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Dismissed.”
Another CUPID officer filed in to undo Alina’s handcuffs and lead her out of the cell. We stared at each other before she dropped her gaze and the officer behind me took my own handcuffs to lead me back to my room.

I lay in bed looking at the ceiling, what the fuck had we done? What was she to me?
My PDA pinged with a new notification, appearing below the therapy email:
AlinaS: Hey.</tt>
…
MadelineA: hey</tt>

The Scratch Daughters by H. A. Clarke keystroke — Fri, 30 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000 The Scratch Daughters is the sequel to The Scapegracers that I took my sweet time getting around to. This is less of a review and more of an addendum to August Clarke’s previous work, as everything that made the first book great is still here. The prose remains as amazingly sickening as ever, and while it grapples with themes in a similar way to the first book, the themes it focuses on are different and provide new perspective on Sideways and the girls. It shifts and tightens its focus on gender, religion and forgiveness in a way that results in really satisfying payoffs as they weave constantly through the pages and intertwine with every character. It also pays off things that I felt were left unfulfilled by The Scapegracers. I was delighted when it questions what ties these girls together beyond magic and reckons with the complicated, not-always-good people these girls can be. The honeymoon phase of their friendship is over, and Clarke uses this to demonstrate why they are all the more inseparable and makes you fall in love with them even more. This is also one of those series where you can tell the author is figuring things out about themselves as they write, as the topic of gender becomes a lot more introspective and called into question throughout this entry. I had heard the second book gets more trans and gendery and the reports are true; as always with Scapegracers, it’s tackled in a delightfully fucky non-standard way. I think I have to say I liked The Scratch Daughters even more than the first book. It does such a good job of expanding on themes, bringing in new ones and somehow finding time to tidy up rough edges as a cherry on top. I’m so excited to read the final book and the rest of Clarke’s works. Gods I cannot recommend this series enough. A Little Vice by Erin Elkin/Shadell keystroke — Mon, 19 Jan 2026 00:00:00 +0000 A Little Vice is something I was looking for but never expected to find, and then it gave me so much more than I ever asked. The novel-length web serial by Erin Elkin (screen name Shadell) explores transition in-depth using the framework of the behind-the-scenes of a magical girl show, showing the quiet moments and character interactions that happen between (and sometimes still in) fights. Now I hear what you’re saying: Keystroke you handsome beautiful dazzling thing you, is this blog now a thinly-veiled ruse for you to talk about forcefem? And to that I say: Maybe. Possibly. Yes. Look; it’s not my fault that gendery stories tickle my brain in the way that makes me wanna write about them, and this has grounded stakes, a slow exploration of gender, one of the densest girls in fiction, and just a sprinkling of forcefem to top it all off. I’m not a huge magical girl fan myself so I can’t speak too much to that element of this story, but it managed to embody the kind of fun you get from watching Sailor Moon while also being more grounded and conveying the experience in a fairly accessible way. The corny villains and dramatic speeches all make more sense because you get to know these characters and the framework behind their struggles, and that framework isn’t always as simple as good vs evil. Sometimes it does result in characters having multiple hidden identities, which gets confusing when every name for them is used interchangeably in a single scene. Our main character C is such a failure of a boy and also a girl to be honest. Never have I related so hard to an idiot so in denial, and that’s at least half of the reason why I’m talking about this. Her journey of self discovery takes more than the whole book as she struggles with her identity, still considering herself a guy even after a magical girl transformation. She has to be tricked into using she/her pronouns by her chaotic partner-in-crime, who expertly diagnoses the situation upon talking to her for the first time and starts gendering her correctly to the confusion of literally everyone. Despite her confusion, she gives everything her all and is such a drama queen about it; everyone’s doing their best to be supportive and understanding and that undermines her ability to be a dramatic sad“boy“, and she’s not having any of it! The drama must be upped; she must pronounce her past-self dead (but definitely not in a trans way) and declare herself irredeemable like a teen going through an emo phase (which in a way she is). The amazing writing continues outside of C’s identity struggles. The story has a fun spectrum of characters with outside-the-norm presentations and not just a binary femme cast that similar stories tend to have, which just felt nice to be included as a non-binary non-passing trans girl. The focus is also moved away from just physically transitioning and hones in on the myriad of other aspects that make up someones identity and presentation and gives them so much room to breathe and be explored. The physical transition is still an element though, and it’s also done really well; with a slow unwitting magic estrogenisation providing angst and character friction instead of simple wish fulfilment, and when the wish fulfilment comes it brings more complications without solving any issues. My philosophy on fictional transitions is simple: Do whatever results in the most angst (I love torturing blorbos someone take my fanfiction away). Elkin has written one of my favourite books about transitioning, making me feel like I did when I read To Own the Libs but even more personal and explorative despite the much more fantastical elements. I strongly recommend this to anyone who loves reading about stupid girls, magical girls, and/or a little bit of forcegirls, there’s just so much to love. She’s so fucking dense just like me frfr. How The Puppy Princess and Her Friends Defeated Loneliness keystroke — Thu, 23 Oct 2025 00:00:00 +0000 A bedtime story for my wife, who missed them. Once upon a time there was a puppy, living all alone in a big castle. The castle was so big, and filled with worn tapestries, dulled windows and dusty suits of armour throughout. But no matter how loud the puppy barked, it wasn’t enough to fill the great halls, and it was lonely. One day, the puppy decided to leave the castle and it came across a sheep tending to its fields. The puppy asked the sheep: “Your fields look so big and empty, how do you not feel lonely?” And the sheep replied: “When I work the fields I must do what is best for the soil, rooting out weeds and planting crops when the time is right. With good stewardship, the land keeps me company.” And it offered to come with the puppy. Next the puppy went to the forest and came across a deer grazing. The puppy asked the deer: “Your forest looks so dark and scary, how do you not feel lonely?” And the deer said: “Every day I tend to the creatures of the forest, checking on them and keeping them in touch with each other as I frolic through the trees. Their happiness keeps me company.” And it offered to come with the puppy. Finally the puppy found a den with a fox resting inside. The puppy asked the fox: “Your den looks so cramped and cold, how do you not feel lonely?” And the fox spoke: “I work hard for my food, hunting enough game to bring back to feed my kits. At night, their cries with full bellies let me know I’m not alone.” And it offered to come with the puppy. The puppy went back to the castle with its new friends, and when they arrived they got to work. The sheep helped tidy up the castle, repairing the tapestries, dusting off the armour and polishing the windows until the sun shone brightly through. Then it filled the great hall with enough tables and chairs for the whole kingdom. The deer went out and found everyone, talking to them about a great feast being thrown tonight and telling them to tell their friends. Soon a great crowd of all the kingdoms subjects gathered outside the castle. The fox hunted and foraged hard, bringing back enough food for the feast. It took the food to the kitchen and spent all evening preparing it, and as night fell it was laid out upon the great tables. With everything ready, all the subjects were invited inside, and filled the halls with the sound of talk, feasting and merriment. For the first time the puppy saw the castle full of life and friends, and it knew it was no longer lonely. The end. Akudama Drive and Religion Alina — Sun, 20 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000 While it isn’t necessarily one of the main themes of the show, Akudama Drive deals with the theme of religion in multiple ways. The first example of religion being shown in the show is the Shinkansen, the holy train that the people of Kansai pray to. Its holiness stems from it being the only connection to Kanto, which is treated as the holy land or paradise, and the people worship the Shinkansen because it represents the path to that paradise. The Shinkansen station itself is akin to a temple, with the buttons to access the train being hidden behind Torii gates. Torii gates themselves are the gates that separate the mortal world from the world of spirits, commonly found at temples. Accessing the Shinkansen requires stepping into the world of divinity, separating it from mortals. The executioners also deal with religion as they stand as the arm of Kanto within Kansai. The Boss of the executioners is the only one in Kansai we ever see directly communicating with Kanto, and she does it in a room reminiscent of temples. She kneels in front of artificial faces, submitting to her rulers, her gods. The executioners then follow her commands, and therefore follow the will of Kanto. The executioners are fanatics to their mission as it is their divine purpose. Kanto itself is an artificial god, an amalgamation of likely millions of people and a supercomputer. Kanto wishes to become truly immortal, to truly become god. It trying to fuse with the siblings could be viewed as a parallel to Adam and Eve consuming the fruit of knowledge, though reversed as Kanto forces the siblings to consume it. Swindler is Jesus, it is incredibly unsubtle; she gets crucified by the unjust authorities and becomes a martyr for a cause that topples the current regime. There’s a bunch of other possibly religious imagery: The executioners headquarters that Courier topples could be viewed as the tower of Babel, an artificial attempt to reach god. The executioner light swords evoke the visuals of the branched sword in the vaguest possible way. Doctor’s entire god complex. The story itself is very Gnostic, with Kanto being the demiurge. Akudama Drive (2020) keystroke — Sun, 20 Jul 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Akudama Drive (2020) is a “heist” anime that really gets the punk in cyberpunk. On top of its stunning visuals, it is a high-stakes action-packed story with a tight focus on its characters and the system they live in. The characters are diverse in their motivations, personalities and crimes, with the only thing uniting them being how fucked up they all are and that they all were conscripted under threat of death to perform an impossible heist. Throughout the story we see what drives them, as well as what separates the monsters on both sides of the law from people trying to do the right thing. This focus on separating morality from legality and the injustice of policing is what makes this show feel truly cyberpunk over merely having a neon-soaked aesthetic. The Executioners are a special task force of police with the jurisdiction to execute Akudama (criminals) with limited oversight. They are state-sanctioned violence taken to the extreme and as the show progresses it gets harder and harder to differentiate them from the Akudama. Just because the show’s cyberpunk themes go far beyond the visual, doesn’t mean that the art style isn’t striking. The visual designs of the Akudama are unique and chaotic, while the Executioners are all dressed in crisp, white uniforms lacking individuality, reflecting their role as the arm of the state. The tension between chaos and order in the art design is reflected in the wider world, with the state infrastructure being clean, tidy and artificial while the criminal underworld is bathed in a mess of neon blood splatters. The rest of the city is caught in-between; a cyberpunk urban sprawl with as many neon lights as it has shadows. How the story is paced is also unique. It starts out with a status quo that is quickly settled into over the course of five or so episodes before breaking it in a way that takes the show to new heights. It gets away with this multiple times and every time brings with it a new perspective that pulls you so much deeper. Click here for spoilers.</summary> The characters are what make this show truly great, each one with depth and purpose, but our two favourites exemplify this above all else: The Courier is initially introduced as the only character purely motivated by money and only has love to show for his bike. However this transactional persona slowly falls away over the course of the show as he is revealed to be the only other character motivated by kindness, eventually giving up everything not for a cause but for people he believes in. He’s also a feminist, which is why it wouldn’t be very feminist of him to take first place from a woman. The Swindler is the heart and soul of the show. Her arc is the loss of innocence. Nominally our PoV character, she gets caught up in the scheme by accident and invents the persona of The Swindler to keep herself safe. However by crafting the fake persona of a brilliant liar, the longer she keeps up the facade the more she sinks into the role in a self-fulfilling prophecy. Cutting her hair during the third act symbolises leaving her innocence behind (and makes her look like a hot butch), having now killed two men to protect Sister and realised how corrupt the system is after trying to return to society and finding herself unable to—having been branded an Akudama. When she finally embraces her role by planning out her first big deception not borne from panic or accident, she incites rebellion; finally earning her title card in her last moments. As the rebellion takes hold in the streets the first bullet is fired by a child, parents murdered by the system that said it would protect them. </details> Overall the show is a masterclass in subverting and surpassing expectations, and highly recommended even if you read past the spoilers as it is sure to remain an experience no matter how much knowledge you have. Also the implied trans villain is a bold move. Just an insane show. Welcome to Dorley Hall by Alyson Greaves keystroke — Fri, 18 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Welcome to Dorley Hall is the first book in an ongoing forcefem webfiction that is being now physically published by Alyson Greaves. As seems to be a theme with small published trans books, it takes the absurd premise of a forcefem cult and uses it delightfully seriously. I’ve taken a few gender studies classes, and while I’ve been present for a lot of discussions of what Toxic Femininity is, and if it even exists, I think I can confidently say I’ve found it right here. Dorley Hall explores a program (or programme because this book is British) that takes extremely toxic men, and feminises them, while an innocent closeted trans girl gets caught in the mix. Stef is one of the characters we follow stuck in “woke jail” (the basement) and is a lovely person deeply strugging with their gender identity. Despite their cell-mates being objectively pretty horrible people, the book managed to endear me to them as well. Together they manage to be human (and occasionally very funny) despite the other’s crimes, and being able to watch their slow character growth and bonding as Stef looks after them and ties them together was always my favourite sections to read. The book also doesn’t shy away from the questions of gender raised by its absurd hypothetical. What is the gender identity of women who were forced to be so? Outside of the basement we follow hacker Christine (she just like me frfr) and delve into the above-ground politics of Dorley Hall. The hall itself is a bit silly conceptually, and if the book was focused on anything other than its characters I doubt it would work. Thankfully that is exactly where the focus is: Each girl has their own story and struggles to deal with what happened to them. The way this is explored and navigated is done carefully and wonderfully, making the novel a clear stand out. On a meta level, the cover for this book is gorgeous. I also respect Greaves a lot for her willingness to leave the original work up on Ao3 even when formally publishing the story. A lot of authors remove the original source of the works when physically publishing, which is understandable from a monetary perspective, but some go so far as to erase their existence as a webfiction author entirely. It does make it frustrating to wait for the next book’s release however, knowing there is so much more online with a gap of almost a year between physical instalments. Makes me wonder what the point of such a gap between publications accomplishes, unless they really want to make sure the first book sells before doing the rest. I want to study all the characters like bugs. 2025 Update keystroke — Fri, 18 Apr 2025 00:00:00 +0000 New year, new update! I moved out recently, into a new house with wifey and two more friends which has been amazing. It’s a little smaller, but I have space to myself, and with a new study and places for my books I can make it feel like my own space that I put work into. It takes so much energy to move and unpack. I’m still exhausted and doing it months later, there’s just so much stuff… Almost done though, putting the final things away like my books and hopefully will be setting up VR again soon. I can’t wait to play VTOLVR and H3 again, it’s been a while as even before moving I was going through a reading over gaming phase. It’s also 2 years on HRT next month, which is also huge! I’m so happy I managed to make it this far and that I’ve had all the effects I care for (hopefully still some growing to do however). I started on progesterone a few weeks ago so will wait and see if that has any effects. Crossing fingers! And this blog. Honestly I’ve been pretty happy with how it’s been going, not only have I continued to put out my thoughts on books interesting enough to provoke them, but I’ve started writing too! What literally started with a fever dream has become a small collection of short stories, one that will hopefully keep expanding as I get new ideas. Currently working on some toxic yuri that will also be my first explict story, and hopefully it won’t be too long before that. I’m also planning on re-factoring the blog soon with splitting my writing into its own section and making my media reviews more expansive, should be able to do all that while redirecting from the old links. Here’s to keeping this blog going, and hopefully to a brighter future. See you in the next update! Rae's Keeper keystroke — Mon, 24 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Something’s changed about Rae, and Misha isn’t sure what, or why it’s making her consider her best friend in a whole new light. Takes place in book 1, chapter 2. Something had changed about Rae. Gone was the mostly normal friend from my childhood, with a normal amount of weirdness that could be excused on her mother’s side. No, the Rae I was stuck with now was far weirder. Not only did she radiate a confidence that I’d never seen in our hometown, but she seemed more worldly too. A commoner getting 98 points on the culture test was unheard of, and while she fell behind on the etiquette test it was still well above what was expected. If she’d always had those manners I’d certainly never seen them used. And the weirdest part was her interests. I knew Rae had flirted with Louie back in Euclid, those two would always disappear on some adventure or another, and I had my theories for what they would get up to. Here though? It seemed she had gained a suicidal crush on an aristocrat, and the frostiest one at that. Said aristocrat was currently leading us to the lecture hall, with Rae, and subsequently me, in tow. Miss Claire was everything one would expect of an aristocrat. Pretty, dignified, and above all a hatred of commoners. She bullied and pushed away Rae at every turn, making it all the more confusing the way the girl clung to her. I didn’t know how to feel about this new Rae. She was different to how my friend had been, but now that difference was making me see her in a whole new light. Just the thought of her newfound confidence was making me blush a little, I had never seen another girl act so forwards. Maybe Rae wasn’t the only one who had changed. A girl was making me blush. Me! I didn’t think that way about girls! I mean, there was Prince Yu, but she was different; I was attracted to how she looked and we were already friends—nothing else was happening there! Sure, no other boys had caught my eye, but that’s because I was saving myself. Once again secure in the knowledge of my own sexuality, I returned to looking over Rae. She still insisted on bothering Miss Claire, despite my constant chiding not to. Her misplaced attention caused jealousy to bubble up inside me as she proclaimed yet another “I love you!” that Miss Claire expertly parried. Further antics were thankfully cut short as we arrived at an already-crowded lecture hall. Slipping inside, there were only a scant few minutes before Commander Lorek, head of the Academy Knights, stood up. “Greetings students! I apologise for taking up some of your Saturday, however as commander of the Academy Knights this is an important time of year.” He continued speaking. I tuned him out as it became clear this was the annual recruitment drive, and I had no interest in joining. A few minutes passed before the murmuring of the crowd snapped me out of my thoughts. The princes were all standing with their hands raised, catching the attention of Commander Lorek. “I appreciate the participation of the princes. Anyone else?” Miss Claire also raised her hand. Oh no. “I want to try, too.” “Miss Claire, perhaps the load is a bit too heavy for a woman?” Commander Lorek responded, setting off her fiery temper. A short brow-beating later and he was reluctantly agreeing to her demands. “Then I’ll take it, too.” A third voice piped up as—oh no—Rae raised her own hand, sparking another argument with Miss Claire that surely ended in— “Misha, you take it, too. If this peasant passes, someone will need to reel her in.” “I’m not Rae’s keeper…” I grumbled begrudgingly Commander Lorek noted down all the names, mine included, before decreeing the test to take place tomorrow morning. He walked with strong strides out of the room as Miss Claire turned her nose up yet again at Rae. The princes walked over to join us, but I still had questions for Rae. “You’re very loyal, but you don’t really want to be an Academy Knight, do you?” “Mmm. I just want to be with Miss Claire.” I felt that jealousy rise up in my chest again, but hid it with a sigh. “I thought so.” Miss Claire took the opportunity to re-litigate her argument with Rae, this time escalating into a challenge for Rae to pass. I felt hopeless as I witnessed them swear to God in front of me. I skipped back along the hallway to our dorms with Misha. Claire had challenged me again, just as I thought she would, giving me another chance to try and prepare her for what was coming. I was planning on brushing up on my knowledge with the school reference books that were provided to all students. It was no official lore guide and I had long ago memorised the answers, but reminding myself of the many school regulations couldn’t hurt. Misha walked in a far more subdued way next to me. Of course, we couldn’t all have someone as special as Miss Claire to inject excitement into our lives, so her pace was understandable. We were almost at our dorm when I decided to pipe up. “I can’t wait to get this test out of the way, it’s getting between me and my maidly duties to Miss Claire.” As much as she didn’t get it, it was still nice to have our girl talks about these things, and sometimes she even had good advice behind the admonishment. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on passing?” Misha rolled her eyes. “I know what I’m doing. Just need to remind myself of some of the rules.” “Since when did you already know the rules? I haven’t seen you touch those books since we got here.” She narrowed her eyes at me. Oops. “Miss Claire is always talking about those things, she’s so well-read!” “Of course.” I felt my anxiety settle as she dropped it. We reached the door to our room and walked inside. Misha sat down on her bed like usual while I walked over to the small bookshelf and pulled out the academy guidelines, blowing the thin layer of dust off the spine. She was right, I hadn’t touched it since arriving in this world. “Time to study!” I pulled out the chair to my desk and sat down, cracking open the spine of the book in front of me. “You were right Misha, all I need to do is keep showing her my skills can’t be dismissed.” “Alright, I’ve had it.” “Hmm?” I lifted my head up to look at her. “Stop talking about Miss Claire so much when I’m— When I’m right here!” She stood up and looked straight at me. Her eyes were damp in the corners where there had been nothing just a minute ago. “Misha, whaa—?” I trailed off in surprise. Where was this coming from? She was acting totally normal before, just like she should in the game. She was the player’s steadfast best friend, the level-headed one to act as a reliable wing-woman. That image of her shattered with how she appeared now, yelling at me with tears in her eyes, those eyes glinting with something I couldn’t name. “You know Miss Claire doesn’t care about you. I know you don’t. But you keep pursuing her. Why, Rae?” “Misha you— You like me that way?” Furthermore she was only attracted to Prince Yu in game. Though I suppose Yu did have some rather feminine qualities… “I don’t know what happened but you’ve changed. At the start of the school term it’s like you became someone else entirely, and since then I can’t take my mind off you!” She knew?? I thought she would figure something out eventually maybe, but so soon? How had she—? “The old Rae Taylor would never have been so eccentric, so confident, so forward!” Huh, okay. Still, I needed to try and assuage her. “Misha, listen to me. I’m still Rae Taylor. Just because I’m not exactly how you remember me doesn’t mean I’m not your best friend.” “Oh Rae, you liar.” Misha walked closer to me. I could now make out the glint in her eye: Obsession. “Whatever you are now, whoever you are now, I like it.” Startled, I started to back away, almost tripping over my chair. “Misha, you know I have dedicated myself to Miss Claire. Whatever’s gotten into you I can’t—” She pounced, strength possessing her wiry frame as she pinned me to the wall with ease, despite her disadvantage in height. Leaning in close to my ear, she purred. “Before I said I’m not your keeper. I’m now realising I could be.” A gulp slid down my throat. I returned to the classroom the next day, head held high with the confidence that this time I would grind that peasant into dust. I had brushed up on my rules and regulations of course, but such things are already drilled into nobles from birth, and I had long since memorised any potential answers. Bracing myself as I opened the classroom door for another overly-enthusiastic greeting, I was shocked when I stepped inside and heard… the normal quiet murmurings of a classroom. Where was she? That absurd girl must be planning something; a new brazen way to propose her idea of love to me. I looked around for anything that might give her game away and— Ah-ha! There she was, sitting demurely next to Misha, head down— Was that a leash? I must have frozen for a few seconds, for when I next blinked Misha was waving me over. Now unsure of what else to do, I walked towards the disgraced noble. She gave a small bow as I approached, as befitting a commoner. “Miss Claire! I just wanted to inform you that Rae shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” She gestured with a small tug of the leash in her hand at the taller girl, currently looking quite small. At this distance I could now make out the many dark red marks peeking out from underneath her collar and shirt. Just quite what had been done to her? “Are you sure? She quite enthusiastically embraced my… discouragement.” Misha energetically nodded. “All it took was an honest conversation!” She said more cheerfully than she had sounded in days. “Very well, make sure it stays that way.” I stated, doing my best to sound dismissive. Despite my words I still felt something akin to disappointment that I wouldn’t be the subject of her affections anymore. “I wish you luck on the test, I assume you’ll need it.” Even putting an edge of competition back into my voice didn’t have any effect on Rae, who stayed silent. “Thank you Miss Claire.” Misha bowed again as I turned away, walking towards an empty desk in preparation for the test. What a weird day. Ranma ½ (2024) keystroke — Mon, 03 Mar 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Ranma ½ (2024) is a remake of a 1989 anime based on a 1986 manga that currently has one season. Featuring a martial arts boy in an arranged marriage with a martial arts girl, the twist is that when the boy gets splashed with cold water, he turns into a girl. I don’t think it’s very good. I watched the Ranma remake because as a trans girl it’s just one of those shows it seems every other trans girl has seen, and I was hoping to get into some of the trans fanfiction of which there is an abundant amount unsurprisingly. I didn’t have high expectations for the show based on what I had heard and what I expected from a manga and anime created in the 80s. I got what I expected largely; an anime with “whacky genderbending hijinks”, kinda pervy humour, and a lack to ever actually engage with its own premise. One place it could use its premise is to engage with sexism, however not only does it never do this, you also just have to put up with constant teenage-boy-level sexism that just gets grating. I know it’s meant to be “in character”, but being annoying in character is still annoying. Avatar: The Last Airbender is a great example of a show that can intergrate sexism well while targetted at a younger audience, and Ranma falls flat on its face in comparison. The show is also weirdly anti-queer. Like there’s standard not including queerness for an 80s show (though that isn’t exactly an excuse either, Sailor Moon originally aired 3 years after the original Ranma anime and they could also change things in the remake), and then there’s how much they have to go out of their way to avoid being queer due to the show’s premise. Ranma has plenty of romantic interactions, however they are completely restricted to the opposite gender of whatever he currently is. He isn’t allowed to have tender moments with Akane in his girl form, and when he reveals the form changing to Shampoo she just leaves. This is to say nothing of Kodachi, who while being one of the most lesbian-coded characters I’ve ever seen is somehow apparently completely straight and only interested in Ranma’s guy form. I was also warned prior to watching that the depiction of Chinese characters is not great and yeah… Outside of Shampoo (who is kind of painted as dumb but so are a lot of other characters), every other Chinese character such as the tour guide and the rest of the women in Shampoo’s village are depicted with caricatures. There’s also a big idiot ball that gets passed around a lot in this show. As mentioned, Shampoo holds it for a substantial bit towards the end, but other characters get a turn such as Akane towards Ryoga/P-Chan’s liar-revealed plot. In general it just makes the show a great deal more frustrating to watch, and paints the involved characters as stupid. My most petty complaint is that throughout the show, Ranma didn’t get a magical girl transformation sequence once. That would have at least been fun but we can’t even have that. What makes all these worse and so much more conflicting for me is that sometimes Ranma does decide to be good and show how much potential it has. It has great animation, especially for fights, sometimes it is genuinely funny with a joke beyond just “haha, boobs”, and the characterisation is really strong and furthered by good dialogue, providing some character moments that really stand out. One of these moments is in episode 8, after Ranma gets kissed by Mikado, and actually opens up his vulnerabilities to Akane. Not only is this moment tender, meaningful and just really fucking good, but overall whenever the romance between Ranma and Akane comes up it’s surprisingly good (when it’s not dumb). The show’s handling of consent is also well done, especially considering the kind of humour it usually employs. I didn’t expect to write my thoughts on shows on this blog (as you can probably guess by the categories), but Ranma somehow gave me enough notes to make one with how much potential it constantly squanders and how sometimes it’s just really good out of nowhere. The only people I’ve talked to so far who like the show are either guys who watched it when they were teenage boys, or girls who watched it when they were teenage boys. Overall I don’t think it’s really worth watching unless; You’re a teenager who has its sense of humour,</li> An egg (there isn’t really any gender enjoyment other than the “wow I wish I could turn into a girl”, and when you’ve already turned into a girl that tends to fall flat), or</li> Wanting to get into the fanfiction (it’s actually really good and picks up all the potential, gender and otherwise, the show dropped).</li> </ol> Otherside Picnic by Iori Miyazawa keystroke — Thu, 27 Feb 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Otherside Picnic is a Roadside Picnic-inspired yuri light novel by Iori Miyazawa that takes inspiration from internet horror stories and creepypastas for its ‘zone’. It features two girls with the closest kind of relationship in the world exploring a green and blue wasteland devoid of life; except for the horrors. The girls themselves are lovely. Sorawo and Toriko can be really different but bounce off each other in ways that feel natural, and you get a very clear sense of how their relationship progresses throughout the story. As I learnt more about how each of the girls thinks and feels I was worried that the story might try to fit them into neat boxes, however Otherside Picnic embraces the messiness of relationships and labels completely, resulting in romances that feel unique and far more true to real life and my experiences. The world-building is the other stand-out aspect of this series. The way The Otherside pulls inspiration from real-life internet horror stories (all indexed in the back of each novel) is fascinating, and the way this is treated academically in the text results in some of my favourite scenes. You can tell Miyazawa was extremely detail-oriented and asked questions about his own world, usually ones that preempted my own, making for a delightful lack of nitpicks if you’re like me and try to pick apart the logic behind everything. This detail extends from the horror stories to other aspects like the guns, with not just how they function and are used, but also the logistics of transporting, supplying them and the legality involved, much to the delight of a gun nut like myself. The primary flaw of these novels is the prose. It might come down to translation, but the prose can be jarring. This sometimes works for comedic moments, however most of the time it results in having to conciously put effort into reading instead of being effortlessly dragged along, as some good books can do. The pacing, however, is excellent. It provides enough space for all aspects of the novels to breathe and provides a surprising amount of falling action, which I’m always a fan of. This review is short because overall this is just a really solid series with very few flaws and a couple of things that defy expectations. I can strongly recommend you give it a read. Hot Headed, Cold Blooded - Epilogue keystroke — Mon, 10 Feb 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Interview room 7b, 1002 hours. Pilot debriefing. </code></pre> The interviewer, a tall woman with a business-like disposition and a clipboard, finished reading out the rescue debriefing. “…Recommendations are that future air patrols be deployed with fighter escort to maintain air superiority, and that pilot Charlotte be inducted into the homoerotic rivals program and given required training.” She flipped the page over the back of the clipboard. “That’s the debrief from the rescue teams obtained last night, however you were unable to be debriefed until this morning due to your injuries. We would like you to correct any errors made in the rescue report during the airborne part of your mission, as well as recount what happened after the crash. It’s understandable if you don’t want to go into detail with everything, given your, ahem, encounter.” She gives a knowing smile while remaining professional. Charlotte, still processing, looked up. “Why would I not want to share— Wait.” Her eyes squinted. “What do you mean ‘homoerotic rivals program’?” “We like to encourage positive relationships with rival factions. These relationships can come in many forms, but due to the nature of many of our agents, a homoerotic rivalry is one—” Charlotte interrupted. “No I figured out that part.” Her voice rose slightly in pitch. “Why am I being referred to it? Nothing happened!” “Something happened alright.” Sidearm bragged. “I basically had her on a leash the way she was making eyes at me. You wouldn’t wanna know where things would have gone had her boss not been so quick on the medevac.” A much-suffering interrogator sighed. “There’s no need to be coy pilot, The Overlord is quite a progressive employer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, you won’t get in trouble for ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ as it were.” “No, I mean it! Nothing happened! All we did was talk!” “Pilot Charlotte, we are aware of the bite marks sustained on your arm. The lack of trauma around the injury suggests that the bite was consensual. Consensual feeding is often considered extremely intimate.” “It was starving! Of course I offered to help.” “Pilot, vampires can usually survive for around three days without feeding.” Charlotte’s face twisted in thought. “Maybe… Maybe it was still hungry? Just because I can live for days without food, doesn’t mean I don’t really want to eat.” “…You are aware that vampire bites are typically a metaphor for sex? It could have easily fed after you left.” Out of excuses, she pursed her lips together. “That motherfu— I’m going to kill it I’m going to kill it I’m going to kill it.” The interviewer quietly marked off a box labelled “enemies to lovers” on her clipboard. Charlotte had to take a deep breath to try and centre herself again. She could feel how worked up she was getting from the heat in her cheeks that was definitely anger. She needed a new approach. “Wait. We can’t be homoerotic rivals, it doesn’t have a gender so it can’t be gay!” She was proud of herself for that one. The interviewer merely raised an eyebrow. “Would you describe the relationship as just an ‘erotic rivalry’ then?” She spluttered. “That’s not what I meant!—” The interviewer ploughed onwards. “Additionally, Mx Sidewinder has nominated you as its homoerotic rival, we received the request a little earlier this morning.” Charlotte had no words left. “Now, if you’d like to go over the paperwork with me so we can formalise this, I can…” https://theoverlord.com/contact-us/erp/ Register an Erotic Rivalry</h2> Work for a rival organisation and developed an erotic rivalry with one of our minions? Please register it here! A. Applicant Details First Name: Sidearm ‎ Last Name: n/a ‎ Pronouns: it/its ‎ Honourific: Mx ‎ Employer: The Count ‎ Country of Residence: Romania ‎ </tt> B. Employee Details Name: idk the cute baby mech pilot ‎ Please describe in detail your encounter with our employee: So this chick shot me down, but not before I impaled her with a sword but ‎ anyway we ended up sheltering in the same cave, and neither of us could win ‎ so we started talking. I guess there must have been some connection because ‎ pretty soon she’s offering me her neck and she’s cute so I figured why not ‎ give this a shot ‎ </tt> C. Rivalry Details How would you describe your rivalry? Gay and clueless (on her part) ‎ </tt> How often do you want to meet on missions? Every fortnight to a month? ‎ ‎ </tt> How much bodily harm do you intend to inflict? Nothing more than bites ;3 ‎ ‎ </tt> Signature: ‎ Date: ‎ </tt> Hot Headed, Cold Blooded keystroke — Tue, 04 Feb 2025 00:00:00 +0000 Pesky how close those vampire mechs can get without a thermal signature. Almost close enough to kiss. When Charlotte was taken on a routine training patrol she didn’t expect to come up against an untargetable enemy, let alone be shot down in the Swedish wilderness outside radio contact. Circumstance leaves her with nothing to do but talk with the weapon that pierced her out of the sky. “Alright kid, you know the drill: Patrol around the thirty nautical mile perimeter of the lair at five angels. We will be scanning the area with thermals and keeping RADAR strangled. No reason to broadcast our position”. Charlotte nodded. Emily and her had been doing these patrols a few nights a week now and were usually uneventful, few people had the balls to try and encroach on The Overlord. The night shift was taking its toll on her sleep schedule though, she yawned as she climbed up the steps to the EW behemoth. Far from Aria’s usual frame, this mech was bulky, outfitted with a front-back co-pilot setup as well as an extensive electronic warfare suite. Its anti-grav plates allowed it to loiter at the cost of mobility, not that any amount of jets could make the massive frame be considered “agile”. She settled into the pilot’s seat at the front, Emily climbing into the WSO and instructor position behind her before the harness came down and the cockpit closed, trapping them in darkness. Screens flickered to life as Charlotte began the start-up sequence, starting their engines from the ground power as she methodically switched on MFDs and the HUD. Emily hummed her approval as her trainee completed the sequence, only used out of sims a couple dozen times before, without fucking anything up. Soon the ground team disconnected the last cable and they were directed by the tower to catapult one. Charlotte sighed as she ran through the launch checklist, then grimaced as she set the throttle to afterburner. No matter how many times she did it, she didn’t think she’d ever be able to get used to the feeling of asphyxiation as the launch flattened her lungs. The steady climb to five thousand feet had been boring, as had the following hour where they made two laps at a leisurely point six Mach. Charlotte’s fingers were getting tired from turning the heading AP knob while Emily was scanning the ground through thermal, occasionally pointing things out. The slightest sliver of light was starting to peek over the horizon as Charlotte stared at it, daring it to move faster in her boredom. A loud beep suddenly sounded through the cockpit, quickly followed by another. She was still registering it when Emily had already switched displays and started talking into the cockpit radio, her voice with a backbone that hadn’t been present during casual instruction. “Nails, ten o’clock, bogey search radar.” Charlotte hadn’t paid that much attention to the brevity codes in briefings. Honestly she thought that it was some kind of stupid hazing that LARPers did to feel special, but she remembered enough to know something was looking at them. “Wha—? Bad guys?” “Bogey.” Emily corrected. “Unknown radar conta—” The beeps changed to an alarm and Emily’s eyes snapped back to the display. “Spike! Break down!” Now that was one Charlotte knew, snapping back a smart “wilco” and pulling into an inverted dive that sent the blood pounding in her ears. Aria chimed in for the first time all flight, having been requested to keep quiet so there would be “no distractions” in her tutoring. “Flickering Mirage, you are cleared hot.” Her HUD changed as Emily flicked a switch, a large reticule being overlaid on her vision. “Copy Exalted Lyctor. Starting the music.” The massive sensor array that contributed significantly to the frame’s bulk flared invisibly to life, filling the sky with noise and false radar returns. The RWR lock alarm went back to its search tone after a couple of seconds, a few more moments of plummeting before falling silent altogether. Charlotte levelled out, the shadow of a mountain masking them from the enemy search radar. “Hostile at bearing two-niner-zero, one-four nautical miles out, weeds, tracking slow hot. Prepare to pop and fire ARMs in four nautical miles.” “Copy.” Charlotte responded. Despite firing afterburners directly towards an unknown enemy, the next twenty-seven seconds were painfully boring, waiting on a knife-edge. Finally they hit the mark and she pulled back on the stick, rising until they had vision over the mountain. The RWR beeped to life, and a second later there was the soft thunk and hiss as two AGM-112s leapt off the rails like attack dogs, twin stars before their motors burnt out. “Magnum times two. Turn down, heading three-four-zero.” Charlotte adjusted course as instructed and Emily let out a sigh of tension, the first emotion shown from her all flight. “Strangle music. That should force their radar off and give us some breathing room. We pull up and try to acquire our own lock on my mark.” A breath went by. “Mark!” They rose again, this time to silence. It was an uneasy peace, the panic of being looked at replaced by a paranoia that their enemy could be anywhere. There were clicks as Emily scanned through the radar, and a muttered curse. More clicks. “Returns on the millimetre wave; four nautical miles away and still closing.” She flicked the thumbstick a few times, Charlotte watching as the HUD cycled through armaments before arriving at the main cannon. “Nothing we have can lock it, so we need to eyeball this…” The arm-mounted rotary cannon tracked to her eye movement, rumbling as 20mm tracers pierced the night. The monitors hummed as their target twisted and weaved around the gunfire. “Three nautical miles. Hostile too close for comfort, cease engagement and turn cold.” The mech banked left as Charlotte followed her instructions, turning tightly around when the radar suddenly flared to life again at the edge of its gimbal “Shit! It’s gone fast, afterburners!” The throttle slammed forwards into its housing, radar falling quiet as it turned cold only to be replaced by the shrill alarm of the MWS. “It’s still closing, we’re gonna have to flip and pray, on my mark.” Charlotte braced for the emergency manoeuvre. “Mark!” They flipped around, falling backwards as Emily desperately tried to acquire a lock. The hostile hit visual range right as she called out “Fox 3!”, the missile spiralling through the air before puncturing the red and black mech a second before it impaled them. The jolt threw her to the side as she felt half their engines shut down, alarms blaring as they spun into a death spiral. The tinted cockpit pressed against them was all she could see until the world went black in a screech of steel. Her neck hurt. Scratch that, everything hurt. She groaned and in response came the call of birdsong and quiet sounds of a forest. Fuck she was alive though. Charlotte opened her eyes to the softly dappled morning rays casting across the cockpit, canopy already blown off. The instruments were dark, no battery and APU trashed. Finally she looked around, only to be reminded of how incredibly much her neck hurt. “Gah! Fuck!” A groan answered her from behind her seat. “Emily? Sitrep?” More groans. “Shit… Hang on, I’m coming.” After cutting through the harness with her survival knife she worked herself free of the seat, every bruise making itself painfully known. She pushed herself over the back of her seat up to Emily, where she froze. “Fuck! Emily!!” Her instructor had blood running down her face and a clearly broken jaw. Charlotte pushed herself to her side, ignoring the aches as she started to cut through Emily’s harness. “I’m gonna get you out of here, we’re gonna get out of here ok?” She slung an arm over her shoulder to help lift her out, slowing as Emily gasped in pain from a broken leg trapped in the footwell. Minutes later she managed to extract her, sitting her on the edge of the cockpit before gently lowering her to the ground, trying not to hurt her more in the process. Thankfully the cockpit was already low to the ground after the crash. Charlotte stopped to pull the emergency kits from next to the seats before jumping down, sparing a glance for the dark mech entwined with theirs. The tinted cockpit was perforated and shattered, and through the holes she could see an empty seat. It looked basic compared to theirs, smooth detail-less material that hid an advancedness far beyond their own mechs retro-futuristic controls. There was a clean entry hole in the chest and Charlotte knew that if she looked at the back she would find it blown out from the delayed explosion. Putting Emily’s arm over her shoulder she looked at the sky, now overcast and threatening rain. Her survival training told her that shelter was now the most important thing. She sighed and started heading downhill. It was sheer luck that they stumbled upon the cave right as the first drops started falling. Not that they had travelled particularly far, they were barely managing a slow limp with Emily’s injuries and exhaustion. Collapsing under the overhang Charlotte finally set to tending Emily’s wounds, utilising her rudimentary first-aid skills from her time at the agency. Emily screamed as she reset and splinted the leg. The rest of the wounds were less traumatic. Scrapes and bruises to be bandaged over, her jaw held shut with a bandage until it could be given proper medical attention. When it was over Emily fell asleep thanks to an unhealthy dose of painkillers and Charlotte moved onto the next pressing matter. The emergency radio came out of the kit and she turned it on. The green segmented display lit up, thank the gods. Quickly tuning into the operation frequency, she spoke into the handpiece. “Mayday, mayday, this is Charlotte of the Flickering Mirage requesting immediate medical assistance and extraction, does anyone copy?” Only static answered her. She repeated the message several more times to no response, finally growling in frustration she activated the emergency beacon mode that anyone within a few kilometers should pick up before stuffing it back into the pack. She sat down, exhausted of things to do, and for the first time noticed the other person in the cave. “GAh fuCK!!” She scrambled backwards, hands grasping at the emergency kit until her fingers closed around the steel grip of a handgun. She levelled with shaking hands, the adrenalin and injuries adding up. They tilted their head, still mostly obscured by shadow. “Nice piece, a CZ 75? Your boss has taste.” “Who are you?” Charlotte spat. A smirk. “You know who.” “The pilot?” “Got it in one. Now; why are you hiding here, in my cave?” “Your cave? You could have ambushed us to get us out at any time.” “I was enjoying her screams.” They said with a sadistic smile, taking a step forward. “Besides, while I’m loath to admit it, I can’t do shit against you while you’re both in the sunlight over there.” “It’s overcast. We were here to shelter from the rain.” They blinked at her. “…Clouds don’t stop UV radiation, you know that right? They taught you basic sun protection in school didn’t they? I walk over there and I’ll be burned as surely as it were a sunny day.” “You could be lying, biding your time.” “Don’t believe me then.” Grinning and stepping forward again, enough light reached them to make out their uniform. What had once been a tight form-fitting bodysuit over a feminine figure was now cut up, tears showing pale scratched skin underneath. The sleeves and legs were black, with torso and highlights dyed a vibrant red. “Take one step closer and I shoot.” Charlotte’s voice wavered. “Your safety’s on.” “I’m not falling for that.” They huffed and leaned forwards. “Suit yoursel-” A deafening shot rang off the walls of the cave, leaving a ringing sound fading in her ears. “…Ow…” They looked decidedly unamused as they pulled the bullet out of their shoulder, wincing as their pointed nails dug into the bloodless wound. “You shot me.” They said it like a statement, but couldn’t keep the incredulity out of their voice. “I warned you.” Charlotte kept the pistol levelled. The vampire didn’t try their luck again. After a long moment she finally dared to take her eyes off the vampire and look over at Emily. She had woken up from the shot and was groggily looking around, letting out a low, pained moan. Charlotte sidestepped over to her and tried to keep a waver out of her voice. “Emily, there’s a vampire here and I think she might want to ki-” She was interrupted by an irritated clicking of the tongue. “It. Not she.” “I think it might want to kill us.” She finished. Emily let out a noise that could vaguely be interpreted as “fuck”, clearly in no state to move. Charlotte resisted the urge to put her face in her hands. “Shit. We can’t move you, so I guess we have to trust it can’t kill us for now. Rescue should be here before nightfall, they knew where we were and we have the emergency beacon.” Emily nodded her approval, half listening through the pain but Charlotte would have been frozen with indecision without it. She took a deep breath. “So I guess we’re staying here with the asshole vampire mech pilot who wants to kill us.” “I can hear you muttering.” “Shut up.” She could hear the smirk on its face. “We might as well talk, Twitchy, not much else happening for a few hours.” “Do you ever just shut. Up?” “Not short of being beheaded, no.” Groaning, she walked over to the cave wall and leant back against it, cradling the service weapon between her palms. The silence stretched on for minutes and Emily fell quickly back into a drugged sleep. Eventually the other pilot got bored and sat back down against a wall further away from the light, occasionally flicking bullet fragments out of its shoulder. Without a watch she couldn’t tell how much time had passed, only that she was getting incredibly bored despite the lethal thing sitting a few meters away from her. She finally broke, groaning as she reached across the darkness with a question. “…Why not just shoot us?” “Hmm?” “You can’t bite us because of the UV, but you have an emergency weapon you could just shoot us with, right?” It let out a short bark of laughter. “Oh sweetie, I am the emergency weapon.” Baring its teeth, Charlotte paled a little at the sight. “Oh… And emergency supplies?” “There’s not a safe warm-blooded creature within a click of this place once nightfall comes. Did you know the average deer holds about five litres of blood?” She paled more. “Of course, animal blood tastes like dirt compared to sinking your fangs into a nice, juicy human…” It leaned forward as it spoke. “Wonder if there’s any remote farms around here, would love to pop in and grab a bite of a sweet, delicious virgin.” Charlotte almost started to sweat, before jumping in shock as it suddenly burst out into uncontained laughter. “Pfff, the look on your face! You really didn’t believe the crap about virgins did you? Why the fuck would having sex change the chemical composition of your blood??” Its smirk only grew more infuriating as Charlotte calmed down, finally sparking a flame of rage in place of where panic had been since the crash. “Why the fuck would I know?? I’m sitting here, in a cave, talking to a fucking vampire. I think whatever ‘common sense’ I’ve been operating on has been thrown out the window!” Its giggles finally subsided and it looked at her with a more relaxed expression. “Good, you’re not scared anymore. I could hear your heart beating like a little mouse this whole time, was getting annoying.” “That’s what you call an ice-breaker??” “It worked.” Unable to rebuke it, Charlotte settled back into glaring at the pilot, the silence resuming. This time the vampire was the one to break it, dropping its snark for a moment. “Thanks though, for not making a big deal about the pronouns thing.” “You’re… welcome?” She said, not expecting a polite conversation. “Besides, I’m the last kind of person who should go around intentionally misgendering someone.” Its eyes widened fractionally. “Well shi- Maybe we have more in common than I thought Twitchy!” “The only thing we have in common is being stuck in this stupid cave.” “Aww, don’t be like that. There’s a reason we’re both here instead of out living normal lives.” “If you’re trying to build some kind of solidarity with me, it’s a bit hard when I don’t even know who or what you are.” “Name’s Sidearm.” It grinned. “You know, like what you tried to shoot me down with.” A pause. “It missed by the way.” “Yeah, I could tell by the way you stabbed us afterwards.” She was unable to stop the bitterness creeping back into her voice. “How did you do that anyway? We couldn’t target you with shit.” The bitterness stayed in her laugh. “Turns out you don’t need pesky systems like life support and G-limiters when you’re undead.” It spoke with a wry smile. “So why not flood the thing with liquid nitrogen to keep it off thermal, and just move slow enough that doppler can’t pick us up. Then when our prey comes within range we can accelerate like nothing else and strike.” It emphasised the last word by punching a fist into the other hand. “Should you be telling me this?” “Eh, probably not, but it’s not like your retro shit can do anything about it.” She grumbled. “It has its merits…” It snorted in response. “Like what?” “…It looks cool.” “And it’s modelled off jets from the 60s, as opposed to the latest neural-plug tech. Mechs fulfil a versatile role on the battlefield, able to transition between roles meant for jets, helis and mechanised infantry. “When you force them into one role, like you were with that hunk of metal, you lose all the benefits that versatility provides and can easily be caught out by someone willing to fight dirty. I bet the only reason you were flying around in that thing is because you don’t have a long enough runway for a proper AWACS.” Charlotte shrugged. “I just thought they were kinda cool, I didn’t pay attention to any of that other stuff.” It made a vaguely disgusted noise from its throat. “A mech is more than just cool. It is an extension of yourself honed to a knife-edge, a way you can fight so much more intimately than in a tank or a jet. The closest I can come to feeling alive.” There was a pause in the conversation as Charlotte processed “This really means a lot to you.” “Yeah.” “I’m sorry we blew it up.” Its sigh sounded more like a hiss through its teeth. “Just part of the job.” “You don’t sound like you enjoy it, other than that you get to pilot a mech.” A bark of laughter jumped from its mouth. “You’re right, The Count is a real asshole. Gets really weird about the whole non-binary thing, and don’t think I don’t notice how he treats the women.” “Ah. My boss isn’t really like that. Quite the opposite really, we get healthcare and any harassment in the workplace is met with the bottomless pit.” “What is this, a recruitment pitch?” “The Overlord—” She was cut off by an undignified snort. “You mean vampire-wannabe Count Fagula?” Charlotte made a strangled noise. “She— She treats us right, is all. Treated me right anyway. Not that I’ve met her, but she’s the whole reason I’m allowed to be who I am. After I was captured they gave me a second chance, even though I’m still on probation. And turns out name changes and hormones are easy when you don’t give a shit about things like legality.” “Captured? You defected? From who? You don’t strike me as a minion for any of the big players.” “From the agency actually.” She couldn’t help but look down at the admission. “Ex-spook? Fuck, Twitchy, I wouldn’t have pegged you for that. No wonder you’re so trigger-happy.” “I did warn you.” “Tomatoes tomatoes.” “…I just hope she’s not mad at me for fucking up out here. The agency wasn’t kind about that sort of thing, and I can’t imagine how much that mech cost…” “Hey, it’s not your fault I’m such a star ace. Besides, you’re just what, a trainee? You can hardly be blamed for fucking up now and then.” “Being new just means I have more to prove! Especially as a defector! I need to show I can be reliable and trusted and—” “Shhh, calm down, if she thought you were gonna defect you wouldn’t have been let anywhere near the fifty ton death machine. Besides, everyone knows The Overlord spies on her minions to keep them happy, meddle in their relationships and such.” “Wait, you’re telling me that meeting that everyone else forgot to show up to except that cute girl was arranged?” “Why? Did it work?” Its damned smirk was back. “…No, we didn’t click.” “Tsk. Darn, I’m sure the next time someone accidentally turns a corner to run into you carrying a pile of stationary will work.” Charlotte snorted. “Fat chance.” “C’mon, you’re kinda cute Twitchy.” She pointedly ignored that. “Besides, you must have made some friends.” “I’ve made some friends, like her.” She looked over at Emily, still sleeping on the ground. “Though I guess she’s kind of my boss. Oh, and Aria. You would like her I think, she’s also kind of an overconfident asshole.” “It’s only overconfidence if you’re bad at it.” Charlotte rolled her eyes. “See?” “I don’t see anything.” It said simply “You sure you’re not a try-hard trying to show how special you are to your boss?” Its eyes narrowed. “Got nothing to prove to that asshole.” “Then why are you out here anyway if you hate him so much?” “Because I get—” “‘Because I get to fly mechs’” Charlotte mimicked. “I know, but that can’t be the only reason.” “Fine. Since apparently it’s honesty sharing hour; it’s because I owe him something. Something I can’t run away from.” The silence stretched on. “That sounds… Big.” “Yeah.” It stretched on longer. “So… Uh. It/its pronouns. How does that work?” She tentatively offered. “I’m not human, I’m a weapon. My name and pronouns are an extension of that. It’s why I gave up everything to become a vampire.” “Was it easy?” “Was your transition easy?” She paused to think. “In some ways, yes. I don’t think I would have died if I didn’t, but I think a part of me did every day I went along pretending to be him. In other ways… It was hard to let go.” “Yeah, now imagine all that but with the feeling of your flesh dying and turning against you, struggling against claustrophobia in a metal coffin.” The words settled between them for a minute. “Do you regret it?” “I’d never go back. Except maybe for some of the food.” It said with a smirk. The sudden shift in weight of the conversation startled a giggle out of Charlotte. “Well then, what was your favourite food before?” An hour passed of occasional conversation, and with a soft cramp Charlotte realised she hadn’t eaten anything since before they took off. Pulling an MRE out of the pack, she winced as she started on the rubbery pasta bolognese. After a few minutes of eating in silence, she looked over to see the vampire staring. “You’re hungry?” “I won’t starve.” “That’s not what I asked.” It rolled its eyes at her. “Yes I’m hungry, I would have eaten hours ago had someone not shot me down.” Charlotte felt a pang of guilt, despite the small fact that they were attacked first. “You can have some of mine, there’s plenty in here and we have more MREs.” “I can’t.” “Why no— Oh.” She exclaimed softly as Sidearm flashed its teeth. “Right. I forgot, with all the talk about food earlier.” “Yeah. It sucks, but I can live with it. We can last long enough without feeding, I might get a little grumpy but that’s for the wildlife to endure after the sun sets.” Two forces argued in her mind for a few seconds before she spoke back. “Could you, um, feed on me? I mean; have some of my blood without killing me?” “On the first date? That’s a big ask Twitchy.” The shit-eating grin was already back, prompting a blush on her part. “You— You know what I mean!” “I won’t say no if you’re offering.” “I’m not exactly sure what you need, but my neck—” Before Sidearm could say anything she had already unzipped the jumpsuit halfway down her chest, peeling half of it to the side to expose a sweat-stained white tank top, her neck, and most of her collarbone. She looked away to show more of her neck, but as nothing happened she looked back and saw its grin grow even wider. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, Twitchy, but your arm is fine.” Her blush lit up her whole face as she hurriedly zipped the jumpsuit back up, rolling up the sleeve instead. “Just hold it up out of the sunlight and try to relax.” She followed the instruction, moving over to where the sunlight split them apart and put her arm over the divide. The vampire gently took her arm and she tried not to flinch, its fingers cold but still soft somehow. “You might want to look away, I know you humans can get squeamish about this part.” Despite its warning she couldn’t bring herself to look away, mesmerised as Sidearm leaned in and pierced her arm. It felt strange. Like something cool being pressed against her and she let out a gasp of surprise. Thin lines of blood started to run down her arm as it fed. Dozens of seconds later and she was starting to feel the effects, her head lighter as she wobbled a bit on her feet. Sidearm’s grip kept her steady the whole time, firmly holding her. Its muscles were like taunt steel cable, not tight but unmoving around her arm. She realised the strength behind that restraint. It could easily pull her over the threshold and devour her before she could even blink or cry for help. As her mind started going down the rabbit hole of what that kind of strength could do to her, she was suddenly pulled out of it by Sidearm’s voice and fingers snapping. “Woah now, that’s enough.” She blinked, she hadn’t even noticed it stopped feeding. “Your heart rate just went through the roof, don’t want you bleeding out.” “R-right…” Charlotte went to bind the teeth marks with a bandage, only to find that the blood had already clotted. Only the rivulets running down her arm and Sidearm’s chin remained. She couldn’t help but stare. “Now, you’re going to want to sit down and drink plenty of water to replace the fluid you lost. You can do that, you have water to drink, right?” She nodded before walking over to the emergency pack, feeling a little disconnected. She sat down heavily, pulling out the water canteen and guzzling down a lot of it without a second thought. “Good girl. Now there’s less risk of sustained blood loss, you’re going to sleep the rest of this off.” She felt a wave of tiredness wash over her. “What… What did you do?” “Just a mild tranquiliser in my saliva, also makes you more suggestable.” It sighed. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t risk you telling anyone I’m here. For what it’s worth, I enjoyed talking to you Twitchy.” Fighting it as much as she could, she only managed to sluggishly struggle through three more words as her eyes fluttered closed. “I wouldn’t have.” She woke up in the medical bay, having her pupillary responses tested next to Emily. “What… What happened?” “You were brought in unconscious, unresponsive since they found you.” “The cave!” The doctor nodded. “That’s right. Your memory is intact at least.” “Did they find anything?” “Just you and pilot Emily, you were both in such a state that they practically threw you in the heli before running back here.” “Oh.” “Yeah, I bet you wish they’d found the asshole who shot you gals down, they’d really get what’s coming to ’em.” “Y-Yeah…” She fell back into the cot with a strange sense of relief. It was only hours later that she realised that she never told it her name. RESCUE DEBRIEFING ATTN: Overlord MISSION: Routine Air Patrol, 0700 hours 0700: Pilots Emily and Charlotte in frame Flickering Mirage were dispatched on a routine air patrol on a 30nmi parameter. 0807: Frame Flickering Mirage was engaged by an unknown contact. Interceptors were scrambled however by the time they were in the air both combatants had already been shot down in what appears to be a mutual exchange of fire. 0856: A personnel recovery unit was dispatched via helicopter once interceptors cleared the area of further enemy air presence. 0927: Crash site was confirmed. The enemy frame was examined and found to be a mind-computer linked frame with minimal life support, typical of The Count. No bodies were retrieved at the crash site and the emergency kit was missing from the Flickering Mirage. A search pattern was established radiating out from the site. 1003: Signal from emergency beacon was located. 1007: A cave was located, its geometry blocking the emergency beacon excepting certain directions. Rescue personnel quickly located pilots Emily and Charlotte inside the cave, both unconscious. Pilot Emily regained consciousness but was unable to communicate with her injuries. Pilot Charlotte remained unresponsive. Once returned to base, a full medical examination was performed, attached. One injury of note sustained by pilot Charlotte is the pair of clotted bite marks on her right arm. While these could be the result of an attack by the downed enemy pilot, the wounds lack the trauma to be sustained while fighting. It is unclear how the pilot could have gained them without collaborating with the enemy pilot. Recommendations: - Future air patrols be deployed with fighter escort to maintain air superiority. - Pilot Charlotte be inducted into the homoerotic rivals program and given required training. </code></pre> The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers keystroke — Mon, 13 Jan 2025 00:00:00 +0000 The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet is a fun, sometimes emotional, little romp across the galaxy in the form of a sci-fi book written by Becky Chambers. It features a diverse cast of characters on a journey of self-discovery</del> doing a job to get paid and making lots of stops along the way. The characters are an interesting bunch and a fitting focal point of the book. As stated before the cast is diverse with some aliens, an AI, and of course humans thrown in the mix. The way they all interact and share their cultures is fun and interesting to read about. Something that weakened the time spent with these characters was the way perspective jumps around, in an almost anthology-like way, between them. Because of this I don’t feel like I got the chance to get attached to anyone, and because most characters also have their own individual plotline happening while in their PoV, it means the plotlines also lack the depth for me to get invested. This happened with most plotlines, including the romance happening over the course of the plot with two scenes leading up to it, one scene where it “happens”, and then is basically quiet for the rest of the book. I would have preferred the perspective stay attached to one character, such as the newbie Rosemary as her sheltered perspective is already used to introduce a lot of the alien concepts in the book and she is one of the most developed characters. As for the overarching story, the book feels very plot driven with event after event just kind of happening to the crew on their way to leave for their journey. A few times probably wouldn’t have been as noticeable, but the way things happen contribute to the anthology-like feeling; the crew travels for a bit, something happens, they do something about it, then continue on their journey in a very monster-of-the-week kind of way. Each of these events usually also result in one of the crewmates having their time in the spotlight to reveal their “secret” and receive character development. This ends up feeling extremely formulaic and like it’s trying to fulfil the blurb on the back. None of the secrets really change anything about how you view the character or turn into a situation that would be compelling to see unfold so it ultimately feels unfulfilling. The worldbuilding in this book is a favourite. I loved learning about different alien cultures and history, what cool technology is around (like an inter-dimensional drill), or just whatever humanity has been up to between now and then. Chambers does a great job at fleshing out all corners of this universe with interesting side character and titbits that make it feel full and alive. Overall the book is good and can be fun, just make sure you’re aware of the kind of book this is going in. The title and blurb makes it sound like a character-driven exploration of a crew stuck in isolation as they travel through deep space, however in actuality it is a plot-driven problem-of-the-week style romp through populated space, making pit stops along the way to the start of the journey (which is done in-between chapters in like 4 days). I am interested in reading the robot girl sequel which focuses on a minor character present at the end of this book, as the world created is vibrant and I really want to learn more about it. Poached Eggs keystroke — Tue, 03 Dec 2024 00:00:00 +0000 Poaching, noun: (In employment) The act of persuading someone who works for someone else to come and work for you. James’ heart leapt into his throat as he heard the footsteps sounding down the hall. Looking around quickly he spotted a janitor’s closet and moved swiftly to hide. Allowing himself a quiet sigh as he slid inside the dark not-really-room, he reflected on how the mission had gone. There just had to be two completely different server rooms didn’t there? As if he wasn’t already behind after getting lost in the hedge maze on the way in. What kind of madwoman needs a warren of beige CRTs in addition to state-of-the-art technology? There wasn’t even any USB ports for him to plug into! Just floppy drives and tapes! He knew that this was supposed to be a cushy mission; although a terrorist, The Overlord treated prisoners amicably, returning them readily in trades with little more than bruises. Still, the lower stakes didn’t mean he wanted to fuck up his first real assignment. It had taken him ages to escape desk duty, and he didn’t plan on going back. The guard’s boots echoed past the closet and started fading into the distance as he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and relaxed slightly. He went to open the door to slip back out when a firm grip on his shoulder stopped him His blood froze. The hand was soft but unyielding as he grabbed at it to try and move it off to no avail before being pulled around to face its owner. Lenses captured and reflected the scant light entering the closet. An android. “Greetings EMPLOYEE_BADGE_NOT_FOUND and thank you for utilising our employee recovery room! We hope you can use this time to re-centre yourself before returning to work.” The lights flicked on and James flinched, feeling distinctly uncomfortable being seen in his infiltration bodysuit; it was like the thing was made by stupid jocks who wanted it as skin-tight as possible. The android seemed to stare into his soul. He could now see the high-tech sensor suite packed behind those lenses, but the rest of the android looked retro, boxy, almost harmless. More of that conflicted aesthetic. With the room bathed in light he could see it was larger than the average janitor closet, but not by much, with a comfy-looking bench crammed into the small space. It looked almost like a confession booth without the divider and much cuter. The robot gestured towards the bench. “Please, sit so we may talk.” Its voice was feminine, though the rest of it appeared androgynous. “I… uh…” His mind raced to try and think of a way out. “I was just leaving actually, sorry, I just needed to avoid a co…minion? that I don’t get on with.” Doing his best to seem apologetic even while his breath hitched. It tilted its head at him, grip on his shoulder not loosening. “This sounds like an interpersonal issue that should be discussed.” “No, no, it’s fine really! Now if you could just let me go so I could return to work?” “I cannot force you to discuss what you don’t want to, however are you sure you don’t want to take this time to address other issues you appear to have?” Is it onto him? He stared at it for a moment, wondering what it could mean before simply repeating the question out loud. “What do you mean?” Its eyes clicked softly, as if taking readings on him that he couldn’t conceive of before simply stating: “You want to be a girl.” A manic laugh pealed across the mech bay. “I got one! I fucking got one!” A woman looked up from a nest of mechanical parts. “Fat chance Aria, you try that shit on every wanna-be hero who stumbles into those aggrandised wardrobes.” “No, look! Dilated pupils, elevated heart-rate, dry mouth and completely frozen. Symptoms of fear! Usually they just get pissed and blow me off.” “Orrrr maybe they just figured out that it wouldn’t make any sense for an AI to not recognise an intruder. Seriously, how many have you done the ‘badge not found’ routine on?” “Enough to throw them off the fact we use facial recognition. What? Do they think we respect the minion’s privacy? I’ve been tracking him since he spent 30 minutes walking in circles in the hedge maze.” If an AI could smirk and roll its eyes, Emily was sure Aria would be doing so. She let out a sigh. “What now then, you gonna try and recruit him?” “Yeah, see if I can sell him, maybe her, on the healthcare and get them to flip.” “I’m banning you from reading any more forcefem after this.” It felt like forever until he was capable of moving again, mouth gaping like a fish. “What?” “As an employee of The Overlord you have access to transition healthcare as well as social support, should you choose to access them.” “I mean what- I’m not a girl!” “But you could be, and if you were to join-” ‘Were?’ It knew he wasn’t a minion here. Shit. Finally spurred into action he remembered the stun gun on his belt, quickly pulling it up and into the arm holding onto his shoulder before pulling the trigger. Its arm jerked, iron grip finally releasing him as he barged out the door. There were people around now, people looking at him as he tried to make himself small and ran back the way he came. The mission was fucked but he miraculously didn’t run into any guards until he was out of breath at the extraction point, waiting to be pulled out. “You know the droid has ceramic insulation, right?” “I know.” “James Murray, not only were you unable to complete the mission, but you were also detected and had to abort the mission early, forcing us to pull you out at great cost to the agency.” James could only look down. “Yes sir.” “However… you managed to not get captured, and even gained valuable intel on how the enemy may be tracking our movements throughout their base. Better than what most green field agents manage.” “Yes… sir?” “Because of this, we’ve seen fit to authorise you for a second mission, this time with a disguise based on a captured minion so you should be able to move through the base unimpeded. Your objective remains the same. “Of course, you don’t have to take this mission if the last one left you too rattled, you’re always welcome to return to your desk and-” “I’ll do it, sir.” James interrupted, not entirely sure why, but the smirk on the commander’s face was insufferable. “Good. I’ll tell our team to prepare for a week from now.” The second time had gone much smoother. He already knew the hedge mazes tricks and didn’t get side-tracked to the wrong lab this time. Nobody had even given him a second glance, allowing him to walk right past the guards into the futuristic tech lab and find an empty terminal to sit down at. Plugging in the USB he typed the commands he was given to run the script. A message popped up. “You can be a girl!” He froze. Were they onto him? No, knowing who worked here it was probably just a playful message-of-the-day. Still… He pushed the feeling away, checking the transfer progress and yanking the USB out at its completion before making a hasty exit. He forced himself to slow down as to not arouse suspicion and made his way out unharried. Of course they were sending him back, he was basically an expert on infiltrating this base by now, while still not being experienced enough to be worth sending after the more dangerous villains. This time they wanted to know what happened to The Overlords hits when they were disappeared instead of being murdered on the spot. There were rumours obviously, none of them nice. His job was to wander around in the same disguise and take pictures using the camera barely the size of a straw woven into his shirt sleeve. Again there were no problems making his way inside, this time working down to levels lower than he knew existed until the stonework opened into what looked like a stock photo of an “evil laboratory”. There were differently coloured glowing liquids, ominous conveyer belts and even the occasional buzzsaw. After walking around and taking pictures for half an hour he noticed a gaggle of people near a station in the corner. They seemed to be dressed in casual clothes and not the lab coats he’d occasionally seen buzzing around. As he got closer he saw there was one person in a lab coat handing out what looked like medication to a bunch of weird-looking people. It clicked in his brain. They looked queer. Not the queer that was “celebrated” in his office no, the type of queer he didn’t know how to feel about when he saw them on the street. They were all relaxed, talking to each other. He felt a pang when- “Hey! Are you supposed to be here?!” A woman in a lab coat was walking towards him, a suspicious glare on her face. “This area is off-limits. If you don’t have the clearance then I’m calling the guards down here.” Fuck. He was too deep underground to make running for it again work. His mouth dry he tried to come up with a convincing lie. “Uhh… I’m with- I’m with them.” Gesturing towards the small crowd. Her face softened immediately. “Oh. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t- Never mind. Just… happy for you.” She placed a hand on his arm and it was all he could do to not flinch away. She noticed his apprehension. “Hey, I know that look. I know it’s scary at the start but it gets better, trust me. Everyone here has gone through the same thing you’re going through.” It was all he could do to nod, to not give himself away. “I gotta get back to work, but just know you’re safe here, and there are people you can talk to. Good luck.” She turned to walk away. James stared after her for a minute before turning towards the exit. It took all of his willpower not to run until he was out of sight. The agency wasn’t too happy with the photos he took. It was dark in the lair and while it looked ominous and had a lot of tubes and wires going everywhere, nobody had any clue what any of it fucking did. Still, he took them and that meant he was getting sent out again. This time they wanted military capabilities and that meant finally following the signs to the “mech bay”. It was unclear why so many villains fielded mechs when most conventional militaries had tried them years ago and found them to be unwieldy and unreliable, even by military technology standards. Still, he supposed, it must be the same reasoning that led them to keeping a labyrinth of CRTs. As soon as he stepped into the cavernous hanger someone yelled out. “Holy shit! Stone!” A big woman started approaching him, dressed almost stereotypically in a greasy jumpsuit tied around her waist and a tank top. “We thought you got captured during the Folketing raid!” She had a big grin on her face as she pulled him into a hug. “We’ve been hobbling along without you, where the hell have you been?” Shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck shit! His mind raced to come up with an excuse, but here was someone who knew his previous identity. He had to excuse himself and abort. “Yeah… you know, just, got caught in a blast and was stuck in PT, you know how it is.” “And you didn’t think to visit us?” “Us?” “Yeah! You know, me and…” She trailed off, looking into his eyes, recognising something. “Hang on… you’re not Stone.” Already on edge and remembering the first time he was almost captured, he shoved his stun gun into her abs, making her double over in pain as she let him go and he started to book it for the exit. “Fuck! Aria!” The looming hunk of metal behind her suddenly moved, crossing the space on huge legs faster than James could ever hope to run and scooping him up like a toy. He struggled but the claws around him were as thick as his torso. “Gah… fuck… What the fuck was that man?? Cheap shot!” The girl said as she stood up straight again. The mech spoke, a familiar feminine voice coming from its speakers. “Hang on Emily, my scanners are picking up something familiar.” James opened his mouth to protest but was suddenly sprayed by wiper fluid. Gagging and coughing as it washed off the makeup and prosthetics covering his face, finally revealing him. “Well well well…” Aria crowed. “Looks like it’s Easter with how we just caught ourselves an egg.” “How about we think about how the fuck he got past your scanners instead of your stupid kinks!” Emily snapped, sitting down on a stool while nursing her midriff. “You know the ultrasound scanners can’t penetrate prosthetics at range. Besides, we knew he’d come back, didn’t we.” Its camera array swivelled back to stare at James, limp in defeat in its claws. He was captured. Footsteps echoed down the prison hall. It was hard to ignore the way the hard stone echoed. It was the very picture of a medieval dungeon, though he was thankful for the inclusion of modern toilets and a thin mattress on the otherwise stone slab of a bed. He had spent the past several hours rocking back and forth since being thrown in here, left alone with nothing but his thoughts. The footsteps got louder until they stopped right outside his cell. The woman who signed him in, the warden presumably, was standing outside the metal grate of a door with a clipboard. “Name and organisation?” He stared up at her. “What do you need it for?” “So we can inform your bosses that we have you and organise a trade. It’s much more efficient than executing you and maybe we can even get the real Stone back. Emily’s quite pissed at you for that stunt.” Right. Prisoner trades. He knew that was what usually happened to field agents when captured here but he hadn’t processed it until now. He was stopping himself from processing it. He had a job to go back to, a position he’d worked hard to achieve, why was he second guessing himself now? “Well?” The warden was waiting, tapping her foot impatiently. “I… I’m not sure I want to go back…” He said hesitantly. “Oh? Defection? May I ask why?” She said while flipping to a different form on her clipboard. “When I was here, I saw… and heard some things that made me question… the agency always said it was just one of Her weird quirks, but…” She was staring at him, waiting for him to finish with an unimpressed demeanour. “Is it true you help people? People who want to be a girl?” He blurted out, then cringed at what he finally said out loud. “That is an option for employees, though to access it you would have to go through a rehabilitation program and training while being continuously monitored to make sure this isn’t another infiltration attempt.” “Is… is the pay good?” Of all the stupid things to be asking right now, this had to be up there. “I can fetch you the standard employment agreement for you to read and then we can discuss more. Now, for the paperwork; I still need a name to put you down for.” Tears welled up in the corner of her eyes. She already knew the answer of course, part of her hated herself for that, while part of her was crying at the relief of saying it out loud. “Charlotte.” Felix’s heart leapt into his throat as he heard the footsteps sounding down the hall. Looking around quickly he spotted a janitor’s closet and moved swiftly to hide. Pushing aside some dirty buckets and mops leaning up against the shelves he reflected on how the mission had gone. Since the previous agent had disappeared, command deemed it too risky to use disguises of captured personnel, so they were back to slinking around in bodysuits. It took months for them to feel safe enough to organise another mission, and he was only just now picking up where the previous one left off: trying to recon military capabilities. The footsteps drew closer, only one set and without the heavy steps guards usually took. Deciding to risk it, he opened the door a crack to peek through, watching as someone pushed a cart full of assorted mechanical bits and do-dads in the opposite direction of the mech bay. Something about their face seemed familiar and his mind flashed back to the briefing, photos of the missing agent. “James?” They jumped and looked around in shock. Felix let the door fall open as he stepped out. “James Murray?” As he stepped towards them he took in what they were wearing; some kind of uniform involving a skirt, but the face, while a bit softer, still matched what he’d seen. “What the hell man! We thought you were dead! Your name wasn’t in the prisoner transfers!” They were shaking now, but finally managed to speak up. “I- I don’t know who that is.” “Shit, what did they do to you man? Oh god, this is some brainwashing shit isn’t it! I knew this place was fucked!” He grabbed their wrist even as they pulled away. “You’re coming with me, we need to-” “No! I can’t go back! I won’t go back!” “Then I’m doing this for your own good.” With his other hand he reached for the standard-issue stun gun in his belt, jamming it into their side and shocking until they fell to the floor. He was securing the wrists with plastic cuffs for transport when a shout sounded down the hallway. “Hey!! You leave her the fuck alone!!!” A tall woman was running at him. There was no way he was going to be able to extract the ex-agent and get away, especially against someone who looked like they knew how to fight. That went more so when she pulled out a handgun. Generally agents were equipped for the level of threat they were facing. Bringing a lethal kit to an enemy known for using non-lethal force only led to an escalation that neither side wanted. The handgun changed things. He quickly backed away from the prone body, hands raised before turning and fleeing. The woman didn’t pursue, stopping to kneel by the ex-agent. “Shit, Charlotte, are you alright?” He didn’t stick around to hear any more. FOR INTERNAL DISTRIBUTION ONLY RE: The Overlord Recent intelligence suggests that The Overlord may have gained brainwashing capabilities. When confronted in the field enemy agents were extremely protective of brainwashed assets. This may imply a strategic value in the information they hold, allowing them insight into our operations. Enemy agents were also willing to escalate to lethal force in defence of assets. It is unclear why brainwashed assets appear to be "feminised". Theorising a kind of sick humour on behalf of their leader. Recommendation to increase threat level from D to B. </code></pre> To Own the Libs by Zoe Storm keystroke — Sat, 30 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000 To Own the Libs by Zoe Storm is exactly the kind of book I’ve been searching after for years. I think I found it when going down a Goodreads rabbit hole of trans books, and with a title like that how could it not grab my attention. Despite its meme-able name however, this book can be extremely serious, grounded and relatable on a personal level. The premise is what draws you in, of course: A conservative-leaning man at a “woke” college decides to transition in order to prove that a cis guy could transition in order to get all the benefits in society women and trans people get (that are definitely real). Despite the outcome being obvious from the outset to any trans reader, Lily’s journey is what makes this novel compelling, as she struggles with politics, doubts, and a weird bubbly feeling inside her. To Own the Libs starts with its premise that sounds outlandish and proceeds to take it seriously, grounding it in reality and exploring Lily’s mindset and, just as importantly, feelings that led her to these series of decisions. This story really gets those feelings right; the confusion of euphoria, the self-doubt in your identity, and the unravelling of political beliefs held in-part to keep you from your own happiness. It doesn’t skip over the important step of figuring yourself out as so many other trans media do. Where they often start with a protagonist already sure of who they are, and if they don’t, figuring it out very quickly and definitively without the recognition that transition is an ongoing and constant discovery. The novel also doesn’t shy away from topics like violence, as the threat queer people can face is taken just as seriously as the thoughts and emotions of our main character. Topics like misgendering, assault and even suicide and death come up and have gravity to them. It also goes into detail about hormones, which is another aspect that I don’t see in a lot of other stories, though it neglects some areas like blood tests. Even with all the seriousness, there is still much humour to be found in Lily being an oblivious dolt that had me giggling like a madwoman by chapter 3. Her attempts to assert her masculinity sometimes sound like Shadow the Hedgehog in the kind of way only barely-adult teens can manage. According to an author’s note, when To Own the Libs was originally published digitally it finished at the climax with only a short epilogue, providing minimal falling action. The ebook and print version added several extra post-scripts that extend the story, providing a nice feeling of winding down which I really appreciate as a goodbye to these characters. The paperback isn’t the highest quality; mine was a little warped when it arrived (ordered from Blackwells) in a humidity kind of way and the page margins are super thin. It is still functional as a book however, there were no issues with ink bleeding and I read through the whole thing just fine. This was assisted by the prose, which is smooth and unobtrusive. While there is nothing that grabs your attention, there is also nothing that trips you up, making for a pleasant read. Overall, this book is an amazing story about transitioning, not just a character who is trans. I can’t recommend it enough if you want to read a story about a girl slowly discovering herself, or were just a tough egg to crack and want to reminisce through someone who is somehow a bigger egg than you were. She’s still cis tho ;3 Resuscitation keystroke — Mon, 18 Nov 2024 00:00:00 +0000 A voice cut through the grey. Starting resuscitation. It sounded almost distantly familiar, but she panicked when the IFF module didn’t give an immediate response. A mental command, flicking the mass accelerator out of her left arm and… no confirmation. Her heart raced. She tried bringing up her scope. Night vision. Thermal. No response. Patient is experiencing spasms, requesting restraints! Preparing for combat she braced for the euphoric cocktail of drugs that were about to be delivered into her system when the adrenalin spike was detected, starting to shake as the hit never came. Running down the list of cockpit commands in a fervour, begging for feedback. HUD. Lights. Even the camera washer. Her mind hovered over the last two mental commands, one that would start an emergency eject that should work on the last remaining dregs of backup power, the other would deliver a fatal shock of electricity to the base of her neck. She weighed them evenly; if she was taken down by an EMP and being cut out, ejection would be certain death anyway. Patient at risk of harm! I need help here! With a determined mental nod she triggered the eject, trying to tense herself up and opened her eyes. Instead of the inky-black comfort of the cockpit she was immediately overwhelmed with light. Nauseated she tried to throw up only to have a thin string of drool dribble down her chin. As things came into focus she was hit by a second wave of nausea. Sluggish motor inputs felt like twice the response time she was used to. Multiple ocular inputs overwhelmed with more visual feedback than she had with the mech’s single TGP and laser rangefinder. Finally she saw arms being held down. Not her arms. These were pale, thin and fragile things, twitching and shaking as someone held them down by the wrist. Knowing when she was beaten she sent the final mental command. Nothing. She was still here as she fell limp, her eyes catching a bare chest rising and falling in exertion out of the bottom of their field of view. Seizure has subsided, testing reflexes. Feeling started to return as blood pumped through her body. Not hydraulic oil or coolant. Blood. Right. The arms and chest were hers and the sound of her panicked breathing suddenly cut through the tinnitus, her body retching again. Something loomed over her, blocking out the light before a pinprick blinded her again, waving back and fourth before winking out, consumed into the overhead blur again. “Pupils slow to respond, suspected brain damage.” The voice, lacking any static from transmission, was right above her. She was just processing what had finally been understood when she felt a prick in her left wrist. “Administering sedative for MRI.” Her nervous system jerked only to find muscles that wouldn’t contract, paralysed as her mind once again faded into static. The Three-Body Problem by Liu Cixin keystroke — Fri, 25 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000 The Three-Body Problem is a science fiction novel originally released in China by Liu Cixin before being translated to English by Ken Liu. It features multiple storylines taking place at different points in time; one with a disgraced astrophysicist after the Chinese Cultural Revolution and one with a nanotechnology professor seeking to uncover a conspiracy. The foreword present in the copy I have was slightly off-putting, as it espouses that humanity should direct lots of its resources to space defence in case first contact was established. I kind of think that we should address the problems we actually know we have first before starting an arms race against an enemy we don’t know exists. It’s clear that the future in Liu’s novel is drawn from this belief, and the book sometimes comes off as an exercise in justifying it. The novel opens during the throes of the Chinese Cultural Revolution, and during this part of the book it is difficult to tell which parts are actually based in history, which parts are extrapolated from historical events, and which parts are completely made up. Without having studied Chinese history I found this confusing, however it ceases to be a problem past the first couple of chapters situated in the past. When I received this book it was due to its status as a staple in the hard sci-fi genre. I can’t say I have a great amount of experience in the genre, but I consider The Martian and Andy Weir’s other books some of my favourite of all time. The Three-Body Problem felt nothing like that, the science is so advanced and theoretical it feels like it becomes closer to philosophy. The vibe it gave me was closer to Neon Genesis Evangelion than other sci-fi books I’ve read. Despite this, at times it is very grounded in reality. The characters feel extreme but still real and anyone who is familiar with Posadism will recognise how some of the beliefs in this novel can appear. Even though some nagging issues dominate this review (sorry), I nevertheless found The Three-Body Problem compelling enough to read through in the course of a couple of days. At its core it has a mystery with a strong through-line and I would recommend it to anyone who is interested in the philosophy behind science and how it can be taken to extremes in this fictional setting. Fixing Flickering Lights in a Mitsubishi Colt keystroke — Sat, 12 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000 My shitbox (a Mitsubishi Colt 2007) has a seemingly unique problem, at least not posted about online commonly: The headlight stick in some positions causes all the lights to flicker/turn off, usually when indicating right. This started about 9 months ago when I noticed the right indicator buzzing sometimes when turning it on, but since I was busy I put it off as it was no big deal. It got worse, with the issue becoming more frequent before it started to occasionally dip my headlights. I assumed this was a fuse, relay or maybe alternator, but eventually this behaviour stopped and I thought it had self-corrected. A few weeks ago it came back with a vengeance, cutting out all lights when the stick felt like it, which was incredibly dangerous on pitch-black country roads. With my car now trying to kill me I had no choice but to operate. Troubleshooting</h2> Due to the nature of the only systems affected being those on the same stick, my suspicions shifted to the stick itself maybe shorting or making bad contact when used. Thankfully the stick was easy enough to remove, just requiring the removal of 3 Philips-head screws under the steering column before levering the plastic around it off its clips, then just pinching the plastic tabs and pulling the stick unit out. It appears to function fairly simply, with different pins shorting when the lever is in different positions. This was easily tested with a multimeter revealing the layout to be below (from left to right in the image and top to bottom in the car) Part # 17D706</code> 1 Ground 2 ? 3 ? 4 Low beam 5 Running lights 6 High beam (semi-pressed) 7 High beam 8 Indicate Right 9 Indicate Left </code></pre> As the multimeter didn’t seem to reveal any unreliable contacts the next step was to try shorting out the matching pins in the car to see if it flickers with a probe shorting the contacts instead. When measuring the matching socket on the steering column, all pins except 1 and 4 had a voltage of 0.5v and a resistance of 16Ω. I am still unsure what 2 and 3 do, however with a small wire I was able to activate the rest of the functions (sans the high beam as that requires the low beam to be on first and I only could short one at a time). This confirmed that the flickering is either coming from inside the headlight stick unit, or perhaps the contacts between the unit and the socket in the steering column. Fixing</h2> I wanted to have a go at pulling apart the stick before ordering a new one. If I was going to have to order one I might as well try to fix it. Pulling it apart revealed a little PCB that the stick moved a contact around on to make contact with different pads in different positions. These pads corresponded to the pins above as I continuity tested all of them. I found that the ground pad (left) could be inconsistent with the pin. If this was a bad contact that would explain why everything else on the stick would turn off, as they all rely on the same ground pin to short. The soldering of the ground through-hole pin connecting the output to the pad seemed to be cracked, so I re-flowed the solder as well as adding a little bit more. For good measure I also cleaned the ground pad to check for damage (there was none) and cleaned the pins and contacts with isopropyl alcohol. When putting it back together, I used some of the excess gel from the contact side to cover up the ground pad again. I assume it’s for lubrication but best to keep the status quo there. The rest of it went back together with a click and it appears to work again! With that fixed now I can address the non-life-threatening issues that need to be addressed such as oil changes and spark plug health, but all of that would have been useless if this was a problem in the wiring harness I wouldn’t be able to fix.