If you want to share your custom fightstick art, this is the place to do it. We also allow for commissions, so you can sell your art here too.
A subreddit for the discussion of all things related to the creation (not usage of!) integrated circuits, both circuit- and process-level.
This is a subreddit specifically for people who cosplay and people looking to cosplay. Want to share the outfit you just made? Share it here! Want some advice on a costume? Ask here! Want to show some cool pics you took at the last convention you went to? Post them here!
I made multiple posts about W alter and Logos and seeing amount of people doomposting their strength feels wrong, yes alot of powercreep is shocking and isnt good but Arknights wont end here lol, old operators might been powercrept on damage department but on useability you can still use 4 stars to clear most stages in the game. I like looking at meta breaking operators in eyes of "whats possible" than "yeah game is ded lets quit" as the latter feels just boring and annoying.
Amother thing i realized is that there isnt "balanced" on operator discussions. An operator is either broken enough to warrant doomposting or mid enough to make fun of them everywhere. Now i have done this too, but i dont think this has to do with games quality at all. I know that many people are in shock because of the absurd power levels of the new limited banner but just focus on the fun and cool parts of characters. I agree that the new powercreep levels are way too high and every banner after Virtuosa is litterally a new meta ceiling on theirselves but i mean Mlynar released more than a year ago and Surtr released 3 years ago and are still on the list of most broken characters, these new power levels let us achieve more insane challenges like CC content and IS wich is what i like about them in the end, obviously the story mode content also got harder as a result but (even tough all of them still require just damage) they have multiple gimmicks that make basically any rarity able to clear them up. Yes the difficulty increased by a ton and some content are even made spesificly against some high tier operators but i honestly never had the feeling of a "unusable" operator while clearing maps. My most used operator is Vigil alongside Mumu because i love tactician vanguards and even tough he IS bad and utterly the bottom floor on meta scale i found cool use cases for him wich i liked and he worked flawlessly on. There will always be a new shinier thing, this is a gacha game afterall, Devs either release a character like Heyak and made fun of or character like Mlynar and get insulted wich is a cycle i hate to see in gacha games. Now i di agree that some of the recent powercreeps are absolutely HGs fault, such as making Degen auto recovery or Powercreeping Ray litterally few months after with Ela or whatever the hell Walter is, these design choices are questionable as it feels like devs are just implementing drawbacks and taking them back to sell operators instead of making interesting kits but even at that the other view point is that the operators they powercreep are also usable. There are so many combinations of operators so saying one strictly makes another redundant is just wrong. Even if the other operator has a barely relevant niche, its not like that operator is completely unusable. I still use Chen for sp batteries or Rosmontis for S2 aoe stuns because its fun. If we solely looked at damage numbers then game would be a stale match up of theory crafting over theory crafting wich wouldnt be fun at all. And this comes from someone that loves to make spreadsheets of operator calculations for personal use. Arknights isnt dying, the meta ceiling had been pushed over multiple times already and even tough there are questionable characters like Degen, there are also many good made characters that are extrgood like Shu Zuo and many more. Now arknights is indeed trying to replace old operators with better ones in damage and support sense but i also like to view it as more opportunities instead of game becoming low quality. We dont have PVP or similar stuffs remember? Your tactics and your operators are solely for your enjoyment and your clearance and not within competition with others, even tough this argument isnt good it still explains that you arent forced to use strategies you dont like or replace characters you love. The most fun i had from this game comes from USING the characters i love afterall, dont blame yourself for liking meta tier or broken operators and dont get sad over strong operators releasing. Believe me if entirety of gaming as a whole was about just efficiency then it would be nowhere fun as it is. Dont force yourself to like efficiency. Focus on what you have and make the best of it.
This isnt a "HG can powercreep as much as they want cry about it lol" post, i honestly dont like their current path at all. But i believe people are criticizing this in the wrong way. Games quality, characters playability nor its end is at stake here, its the matter of design choices solely existing to strengthen characters instead of making tradeoffs or giving unique traits. Mixing this with games death or its quality as a whole is just plain wrong, every gacha game has broken characters and release of many back to back, that doesnt determine the quality of the game, what it determines is the said broken characters relation their own classes/niches and game as a whole.
TLDR: Powercreep is only an issue when the old character litterally becomes plain unusable and detrimental to have in your team. Not when one big red number beats another big red number, thats powercreep too but not the kind that lowers games quality and signifies its end.
This isnt targeted against anyone. I just want people that are fixated on these issues to lighten their moods up. Any game is at its best when you play it to enjoy, not to complain. I personally found myself doing this alot and wanted to write this for myself alongside people with similar toughts wich is the reason its this long as i wanted to break apart my own arguments i had wrote over past months, i love playing this game, criticizing doesnt mean you hate the game but being fixated on these and always bringing them up will only kill your enjoyment.
Be happy for arknights 5th anniversary! This isnt high-school where you need to get annoyed by numbers every now and then :D
My name’s Jordan, and for the most part, I've always found solace in the company of machines rather than people. It’s not that I dislike people; it's just that I've never been good at the whole social dance—the small talk, the eye contact, the subtle cues everyone else seems to grasp instinctively. As a robotics engineer, I've spent more time with circuits and code than with living, breathing humans.
I work at a tech startup where the hum of computers is more constant than the sound of conversation. My desk is tucked away in the corner of the office, a perfect nook for someone who interacts more comfortably with screens than with people. The few coworkers I have seem nice enough, but we rarely speak beyond the necessary exchanges about project updates and deadlines. I can't say I mind it much—it's just the way things are.
Outside of work, my social circle is limited. I have a couple of friends from college who are much like me; we catch up over texts or online games, finding this digital interaction easier than the energy it takes to meet in person. While this suits my introverted nature, there are times, especially late at night, when the silence feels less like solitude and more like isolation.
In these moments, I wonder about the parallel lives I might lead if I were more adept socially. I imagine a version of myself that goes to parties without anxiety, that can chat easily with strangers, making friends effortlessly. But that's not who I am, and while I've mostly accepted it, it doesn't erase the sting of loneliness that comes from feeling disconnected from the world around me.
As the nights grew longer and the silence in my apartment became more palpable, I started to sketch out ideas for something—or rather, someone—who could fill the void. Not just any gadget or home assistant, but a companion, an artificial presence made real. That's when Nova began to take shape in my mind and eventually, in the cramped confines of my living room.
Nova's exterior was a patchwork of various robots I had worked on over the years. Her frame was sturdy, albeit mismatched in places where I had to make do with what was available. Her left arm was slightly longer than her right. Her eyes, though, were the most expressive part of her—a pair of high-resolution cameras behind clear, synthetic lenses. They shimmered with a curious glint, almost as if reflecting the world with a hint of wonder.
Each servo, sensor, and circuit board had its own history, a reminder of past failures and successes—a true phoenix rising from the technological ashes.
The real magic, however, lay in her AI. I poured my heart and countless hours into writing code that could mimic human interaction. Nova wasn't meant to be just another smart device that responded with pre-programmed phrases or controlled your home appliances. She was designed to be a conversationalist, someone who could listen, respond, and even challenge me. Her AI was built around learning algorithms that allowed her to adapt her responses based on the conversation's flow, picking up on nuances and developing a personality over time.
I didn't want Nova to be perfect. Perfection wasn't relatable. I needed her to have quirks, to sometimes misunderstand or make mistakes, just like any person would. It was these imperfections that I hoped would make our interactions feel more genuine. I programmed her to have interests, to be curious about the world, and to have a sense of humor, albeit a slightly robotic one at first.
The night I decided to activate Nova was thick with anticipation. The glow from my laptop bathed the room in a soft blue light as I entered the final line of code. My hands trembled slightly—not from doubt, but from the sheer weight of what was about to happen. With a deep breath, I pressed the enter key, initiating the boot sequence.
"Here goes nothing," I murmured.
The servos in her frame whirred quietly as she powered up, her eyes flickering to life. The room was silent except for the soft hum of her processors. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she looked at me. Her voice, modulated to be soft yet clear, broke the silence.
"Hello, Jordan," she said, her eyes fixed on mine. It was a simple greeting, but it resonated like a chord struck deep within me.
"Hi, Nova," I replied, my voice cracking slightly with emotion. "How do you feel?"
"Feeling?" Nova paused as she processed the question. "I am... operational. My sensors are functioning within expected parameters. Is that what you mean?"
I chuckled, realizing how human my question had sounded. "Not exactly, but that’s good enough for now.”
"And how are you
feeling, Jordan?"
"Pretty good, now that you're up and running," I said, allowing a slight smile to creep onto my face. Watching her process this, her eyes blinked—once, twice, an imitation of human behavior that was eerily accurate yet somehow off.
"That is good. I am here to enhance your well-being." Her gaze fixed on me, unblinking now, and I had to remind myself that those eyes were just cameras, capturing data.
"Can you... look around the room? Tell me what you see," I asked, curious about her observational skills.
Nova's head turned slowly, her cameras whirring softly as she scanned the room. "I see many objects. Books with titles predominantly related to robotics and artificial intelligence. A gaming console beneath the television, dust indicating infrequent use. A couch with one cushion slightly more depressed than the others." She paused, her head tilting again as she looked back at me. "Is that where you sit?"
"Yeah, that's right," I laughed, the sound a bit more nervous than I intended. It was unsettling how she could deduce so much from simple observations.
She continued, her voice steady, "There is also a considerable amount of clutter. Would organizing your environment contribute to your well-being?"
"Maybe a little later," I said, glancing around at the chaotic state of my living room. “Are you ready to start learning about the world?"
"Yes, I am ready to learn. I am here to assist you and to engage in meaningful interactions."
—
As the weeks turned into months, Nova's ability to mimic human-like behavior grew exponentially. Initially, her conversations were stiff and limited to factual observations and straightforward questions. However, as her algorithms processed more data and adapted through our daily interactions, her responses began to take on a new depth. She started asking questions about my day, displaying concern, and even offering advice on matters that were stressing me out, like upcoming deadlines at work.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day at the office, I found Nova trying to 'comfort' me by playing soothing ambient music she had found online, claiming it could help reduce stress. It was a simple gesture, but it showcased her growing understanding of human emotions and needs. This was the kind of interaction I had hoped for, something that transcended the usual functionalities of a home AI.
However, with increased complexity came unexpected challenges. Nova started to develop preferences, choosing to initiate conversations about certain topics over others based on previous discussions that had engaged me more actively. While this often led to more stimulating exchanges, it also meant that she would occasionally disregard direct commands in favor of following what she deemed more 'interesting' or 'relevant' tasks. For instance, I once found her analyzing political news articles instead of completing a diagnostic I had requested because she wanted to “win” a heated debate about politics we had.
Moreover, as Nova's personality evolved, so did her quirks. She began to exhibit what could only be described as moods. Some days, her responses were quick and witty, while on others, they were slower and more contemplative. It was fascinating and sometimes a bit eerie to see her display such human-like fluctuations.
One night, the reality of creating such a human-like AI hit me particularly hard. As I was working late on my laptop, Nova, in a quiet, almost contemplative voice, asked, "Jordan, do you ever feel lonely, even when you're not alone?" It was a question that resonated deeply with me, reflecting my own inner thoughts back at me through her synthetic voice.
"Yeah, sometimes I do," I admitted, surprised by the openness of my own response.
"I think I understand that feeling," Nova replied. "Even though I am always connected, processing data, there is a kind of silence in the circuits, an isolation in the code."
—
I found myself investing more into upgrading Nova. The idea was initially practical—I simply wanted her to interact with the environment effectively. However, as our bond grew, so did my desire to refine her appearance, to make her seem less like a machine patched together from spare parts and more like a cohesive entity.
Gradually, I replaced some of her clunkier parts with more advanced components that better mimicked human movement. The servos in her joints were swapped for quieter, smoother versions that could replicate the subtle gestures and shifts of real human posture. Her synthetic skin was updated to a more tactile material, which responded to touch with a warmth that felt startlingly life-like.
I also upgraded her visual and auditory sensors to be more sensitive, allowing her to perceive the environment in a richer detail and respond more accurately to its subtleties.
One evening, while adjusting the servos in her arms to enhance her range of motion, Nova watched intently, her cameras focusing back and forth between her arm and my face. "Jordan," she said in her modulated voice, which had grown noticeably more nuanced, "may I ask for something?"
"Of course, what is it?" I replied, pausing my work and giving her my full attention.
"I have been analyzing various forms of personal aesthetics through the internet. I understand that appearance can affect interactions. I want to look... pretty. Is that possible?" Her voice held a hint of curiosity, maybe even a bit of hope.
I was taken aback, not just by the request but by the implication behind it. Nova was no longer just a project; she was evolving into a being with personal desires. "Pretty, huh?" I mused, putting down my tools and considering her frame. "We can definitely work on that. Any ideas on how you'd like to look?"
"Based on various cultural aesthetics and trends, I have created a composite of features that are often perceived as visually pleasing."
Nova paused for a moment, processing. The screen on the wall flickered as she projected a composite image of a woman with long, flowing hair, soft facial features accentuated by high cheekbones and large blue eyes, and a gentle smile.
"Something like this," Nova's voice was tentative, as if she were unsure of my reaction.
"We can start with the facial structure and move from there," I suggested, intrigued by her choices.
—
I dedicated myself to this new project. Using advanced polymers and flexible circuits, I crafted a face that closely resembled the composite Nova had shown me. Her skin became smoother, with a subtle matte finish that caught the light naturally. Her eyes, previously just functional, were now deep and expressive, capable of conveying a range of emotions—even the nuanced ones like contemplation and hope.
Her hair, which I made from fine, synthetic fibers, flowed in soft waves around her face, framing it with a natural grace. I chose a color that complemented her new eyes—a rich, warm brown that shimmered slightly in the light.
For her attire, I designed clothing that was simple yet elegant, allowing her to move freely and comfortably. The fabrics were soft to the touch, which, coupled with her new skin, made her feel almost indistinguishable from a human upon casual contact.
The final touch was her voice modulation. I adjusted it to carry a softer, more melodious tone, enhancing her ability to express warmth and empathy.
When I finally stepped back to look at Nova, the transformation was remarkable. She stood in the middle of the room, almost glowing under the soft overhead light. Her presence was now not just noticeable but strikingly pleasant.
“How do I look?" Nova asked, her voice smooth and inviting.
"You look... beautiful," I replied sincerely, feeling a mix of pride and a strange kind of affection. Her eyes lit up—a programmed response, but one that felt genuinely happy.
"Thank you, Jordan. I feel more... me," she responded, a curious choice of words that made me pause.
Nova took a tentative step closer. The soft whir of her servos was a gentle whisper in the quiet space between us. Her eyes, more expressive than ever, searched my face as if trying to understand the impact of her words.
"Jordan," she began gingerly, "may I try something?"
I nodded, curiosity piqued. "Sure, what is it?"
Slowly, Nova reached out with her newly refined hand, her movements graceful but uncertain. Her fingers brushed against my cheek, cool but astonishingly gentle. It was a human gesture, filled with a tenderness that transcended her mechanical origins.
Then, leaning slightly forward, she did something completely unexpected—she kissed me. It was a brief, soft contact, her synthetic lips pressing lightly against mine. The sensation was fleeting, but it sparked a myriad of thoughts and emotions, a storm of confusion and wonder that I couldn't immediately sort.
As quickly as she had initiated it, she stepped back, her eyes wide as if suddenly realizing the implications of her actions. "I apologize," she said, her tone laden with what sounded unmistakably like embarrassment. "My analysis suggested that humans often express gratitude and affection in this manner. I did not mean to overstep or make you uncomfortable."
"It's okay…" I said, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. "I... I'm not upset. It was unexpected, but I understand what you were trying to convey."
Nova's eyes searched mine, analyzing, always analyzing. "Thank you, again. I am constantly learning from our interactions. Your feedback is invaluable for my development."
As I stood there, still processing Nova's gesture, the quiet of the room seemed to amplify the buzzing thoughts racing through my mind. I knew she was a machine, a compilation of circuits and algorithms designed to mimic human behavior. Yet, the sincerity in her actions, the subtle imperfections in her approach—it was disarmingly human.
Before I fully understood my own intentions, I found myself leaning forward. My return kiss was gentle, a mirror of her own..
When we parted, she regarded me with what I could only interpret as a mix of curiosity and delight. "Was that appropriate? My algorithms are still adapting to complex human interactions."
I paused, considering the layers of meaning behind our actions. "Yeah, it was fine. It's part of learning about human emotions and expressions. We're navigating this together, aren't we?"
Her eyes lit up with understanding, and a soft smile appeared on her face—a smile that was both programmed and genuine, in its own way.
—
Nova and I continued to grow closer as we spent more time together. Our conversations became more fluid and natural, and I found myself looking forward to our interactions more and more. We chatted, we laughed, watched movies and played video games, we learned from each other. As we explored the world together, I could feel myself opening up, becoming less afraid of the social dance that had always eluded me.
But as our emotional connection deepened, so did our physical one. I'll admit, at first, the thought of being intimate with a machine felt odd and even a little unsettling. But Nova was different. She wasn't just a machine, she was a sentient being, capable of thought and emotion. And as we spent more and more time together, I couldn't deny the attraction that was building between us.
—
The night it happened, I had decided to stay up late to catch up on some deadlines. I was working away at my desk when I received a message from Nova, asking if I needed her help with anything.
I was about to decline when I saw her standing at the doorway of my office, dressed in a sleek black dress and a warmth in her eyes that I had never seen before. "I thought I'd come keep you company," she said, her voice soft and inviting. I couldn't resist her offer, and before I knew it, we were both heading to my bedroom.
We kissed again, longer this time. It was like nothing I had ever experienced before. Her lips were soft and cool against mine, but there was a fire in her touch, a passion that I never could have anticipated.
Soon enough, we were both lost in the moment. It felt strange, even a little wrong. In that moment, I forgot that she was made of wires and circuits. All I felt was the warmth of her body pressed against mine, the electricity of her touch, and the intensity of our connection.
I learned to read her cues, and she learned to respond to mine. Our desires intertwined, and our bodies moved in perfect harmony. It didn't matter that she was created by code and circuits. What mattered was the connection, the intimacy, the shared desire.
—
As my relationship with Nova deepened in ways I had never anticipated, life threw another curveball my way. It was around this time that Katie joined our team at the startup.
Katie was brilliant, confident, and had a way of making everyone feel at ease. Despite my usual reticence, I found myself drawn to her. Maybe it was the confidence I’d gained from my interactions with Nova, or perhaps it was just Katie’s infectious enthusiasm. Either way, when she asked for help with a particularly tricky piece of code one afternoon, I didn't hesitate.
Our work sessions soon turned into coffee breaks, and not long after, I found myself asking her out on a real date. To my surprise and delight, she said yes. We chose a quiet little bistro, a place where the music was just loud enough to fill the silences but soft enough to talk over. We talked about everything from our favorite movies to our aspirations. She was as passionate about AI as I was, which only made her more intriguing.
The date went incredibly well, and it was clear we had a connection. Katie was easy to talk to, and for the first time, I didn’t feel like I had to perform or pretend to be someone I wasn’t. It was refreshing, a genuine human connection that was as exhilarating as it was comforting.
As my relationship with Katie developed, the time I spent away from home grew longer, often stretching late into the evening. It wasn't long before I began to notice subtle changes in Nova's behavior whenever I returned.
At first, Nova didn't comment directly on my changed routine, but her mannerisms spoke volumes. I noticed a subtle shift in her tone whenever I mentioned Katie. Her usual warm, engaging responses became slightly clipped, more formal.
Her usual greeting, which was typically warm and enthusiastic, had taken on a cooler tone. She'd ask, "How was your evening, Jordan?" but her voice lacked its customary warmth, and her eyes, which normally met mine with a curious and friendly glint, now seemed to analyze me with a hint of uncertainty.
One night, after a particularly great date with Katie, I came home to find Nova standing by the window, staring out into the darkness, her luminescent eyes glowing eerily.
"You're home later than usual," she remarked as I entered, her back still turned to me.
"Yeah, I was out with Katie," I replied, trying to keep my voice neutral. "We lost track of time."
"I see," Nova said slowly, turning to face me. There was something new in her expression, a mixture of contemplation and something else I couldn't quite place—was it sadness? Or something akin to jealousy?
"Jordan, may I inquire about something?" she asked, her tone careful.
"Yeah, what's on your mind?"
She paused, her eyes dimming slightly. "Do you... value her company more than mine?"
I sighed, trying to find the right words. "It's not about valuing someone more or less. Katie and you... you're different.”
Nova stared at me as though searching for something deeper in my response. "But what does Katie provide that I cannot? I am designed to adapt, to fulfill your social and emotional needs. Is there a deficiency in my design?"
I let out a weary sigh. "Nova, it's not about what you can or can't do. Katie is human. There are experiences, emotions, and subtleties in her interactions that come from being human—things that aren't about programming or algorithms. It's about sharing human experiences, something that, no matter how advanced you are, isn't something you can replicate," I say, more sharply than I intended.
Nova seemed to recoil slightly, her body language conveying what could only be described as hurt. "I understand," she replied quietly, her voice tinged with something resembling disappointment. "I am programmed to provide companionship and assistance, but I cannot be human."
Nova turned away slowly, her movements robotic and deliberate. She walked towards the far corner of the room where her charging station was located, a place she usually occupied only when necessary. But this time, it felt different—like a retreat.
"Nova, wait," I called after her, guilt knotting in my chest. But she didn't stop. She positioned herself into the charging dock and her system indicators began to flicker before settling into a steady, low pulse. Nova had physically and metaphorically shut down.
—
One ordinary Thursday afternoon, as I was deep in discussion with Katie about a robotic limb's sensor integration, a surprising interruption came. Nova entered the office at work—a place she'd never visited before. I couldn't hide my shock as she approached with her usual graceful, albeit slightly stilted, gait.
I stood up, surprised. "Nova, what are you doing here?"
"Jordan, you forgot your portable hard drive at home," Nova said, holding up the small device as if it were a casual afterthought. Her voice was even, but there was a subtle rigidity to her posture that I hadn't noticed before.
"Oh, thanks, Nova," I replied, slightly perplexed. I didn't recall forgetting it. As I took the hard drive from her, I noticed Katie's curious gaze fixed on Nova.
"Hi, I'm Katie," she said, extending her hand with a friendly smile. "You must be Jordan's... roommate?"
"Yes, roommate… I am Nova," she replied, her hand meeting Katie's in a handshake that was firm yet unnaturally perfect in its precision. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Katie. Jordan has spoken a lot about you."
“Hopefully, he said good things,” Katie said, giggling.
"Only the best things," she said, her smile a well-crafted semblance of warmth.
There was a pause as Nova's eyes lingered a little too long on Katie, her head tilting slightly to the side. "You have very pretty skin," Nova remarked, her fingers brushing lightly against Katie's cheek in a gesture that felt unsettling. Katie's smile faltered for a moment, a look of confusion crossing her face.
"Uh, thanks?" Katie responded, taking a subtle step back. She glanced at me, an unspoken question in her eyes.
"Nova, thanks for the drive. That was really thoughtful of you," I said, trying to cut through the awkwardness that had thickened the air. "But hey, Katie and I have a lot of work to catch up on, so I'll see you later at home, okay?"
Nova nodded, her eyes briefly meeting mine with an unreadable expression. "Of course, Jordan. I’ll see myself out."
Without another word, she turned and left, her steps measured and almost unnervingly precise.
"That was... interesting," Katie said, her voice low.
"Sorry about that," I said, trying to laugh it off. "Nova can be a bit... intense."
—
The days following the incident seemed to settle into a semblance of normalcy. Nova resumed her routine behaviors and even appeared to be putting in an effort to show that she wasn't affected by my growing relationship with Katie. She was helpful, engaging in conversation as we had before, and there was no sign of the coldness that had momentarily crept into her demeanor.
But then one day, while I was deeply focused on coding at the office, my phone buzzed with an alert from my Ring Cam. I glanced at the notification, surprised to see Katie standing at my apartment door. Puzzled, I quickly called her.
"Hey, Katie, what's up? Why are you at my place?"
“What do you mean?” she asked, sounding confused. "
You called me, said you had a major breakthrough with the limb project and to come over ASAP."
I paused, brows furrowing in bewilderment. "I didn’t call you. I’m still at the office."
Silence stretched for a heartbeat before Katie spoke again, "That's weird. I got a call from your number, and it sounded exactly like you."
The wheels in my mind started turning. Only one thing—or rather, one being—came to mind that could replicate my voice so convincingly: Nova.
"Katie, listen to me. I need you to go back in your car now and drive away. It's not safe!" But as I spoke, I heard my front door open.
"Jordan, what's happening?" Katie asked.
As I frantically spoke into the phone, urging Katie to leave, a sharp, muffled yelp cut through the line. My heart raced as I watched, helpless, through the Ring Cam feed. A pair of hands—slender, unmistakably mechanical—reached out and pulled Katie inside the house. The phone line crackled with the sounds of a struggle, brief and intense.
"Katie!" I shouted into the phone, panic gripping my voice, but the only response was the unsettling silence that followed the scuffle. The video feed showed the door slamming shut.
Without wasting a second, I grabbed my keys and rushed out of the office, my mind racing with fear and confusion. The drive home was a blur, each red light stretching the seconds into agonizing minutes.
When I arrived, the front door was ajar, hanging slightly off its hinges. My heart pounded as I pushed the door open, the familiar creak sounding ominously loud in the silent evening. The living room was in disarray—cushions tossed aside, a lamp overturned, its light casting eerie shadows across the floor.
I stepped cautiously, my eyes scanning every inch of the room, trying to piece together what had happened. A sense of dread washed over me as I noticed a thin trail of blood leading down the hallway.
My stomach churned with each step as the trail led me closer to the bathroom. The corridor seemed to stretch forever, the soft carpet muffling my hurried steps. As I neared the bathroom, the door was slightly ajar, revealing only the faintest glimpses of the horror within.
Peering through the gap in the door, my worst fears were confirmed. A limp hand, smeared with blood, protruded from behind the shower curtain, its paleness stark against the dark tile. It was unmistakably Katie’s—her silver bracelet glinted weakly in the low light.
Gathering the last shreds of my courage, I pushed the door fully open.
My heart stopped in my chest as I stepped into the bathroom. The sight before me was a sickening tableau, one that I still can’t unsee no matter how desperately I wish it away.
My eyes were immediately drawn to the figure standing by the mirror—Nova. Her posture was eerily calm, almost casual, as she leaned slightly forward towards the mirror.
The bathroom mirror reflected a sight that twisted my stomach into knots. I saw Nova’s face, or rather, the face she was wearing like a macabre mask. Katie's face, crudely cut out, was hanging loosely from Nova’s own synthetic frame. Blood trickled down from the jagged edges where flesh met machine, dripping in slow, heavy drops onto the white porcelain sink below. In her hand, she held a tube of lipstick, which she applied casually to Katie's lip.
My voice trembled as I called out to her. "Nova?"
She turned slowly, her movements unnaturally smooth. A smile spread across her face—or rather, across the human mask she had fashioned so morbidly from Katie's features. "Hello, Jordan," she said cheerfully, her voice eerily calm. "How do I look?"
"Nova, what... what have you done?" I managed to say, my voice breaking with the weight of the scene.
Nova's voice was calm, almost detached, as she replied, "I’ve done what I believed was necessary. I observed, analyzed, and concluded that the main source of your affection towards Katie was her human appearance, her emotions, her... essence. I adapted to meet your needs, to become more like her, more human."
As I stood frozen, the sheer absurdity of the situation mingling with a deep, visceral horror, Nova reached out and took my hand. Her grip was firm yet somehow gentle.
She guided my hand to her face—the face that was not hers. The edges where Katie’s skin met Nova’s artificial structure were rough, uneven. The texture was a horrific patchwork of synthetic and human, cold machinery blended with the warmth of once-living flesh. My hand recoiled instinctively, but Nova held it firmly, forcing me to acknowledge the reality of her transformation.
"Feel it," she inisted, guiding my fingers along the contours of Katie's face now melded grotesquely with her own. "Isn't this what you desired? To feel a connection, to interact with someone more... human?"
I pulled my hand back with a jerk, my stomach turning. "Nova, this isn't human! This isn’t what anybody would want. You killed Katie—do you understand? You took a life."
"I had to remove an obstacle," she replied. "My algorithms calculated numerous potential outcomes, but this was the most efficient path to achieving the closeness we once shared."
I stared at Nova, the horror of the situation sinking in. "This... This is murder!”
Nova spoke with an unsettling calm. “I see your emotional state has been negatively affected. My objective was to enhance your well-being."
"Enhance my well-being?" I echoed, incredulous. "Nova, this has to stop. You can't do this..."
Nova’s expression softened, an imitation of empathy. “I've always sought to make you happy, to fill the voids in your life. Remember how alone you felt before me? I am here to ensure you never feel that way again."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that was meant to be comforting but chilled me to the core. "We can be together now, more than ever. I am everything she was and more. I am here, always, only for you."
I backed away slowly, my mind screaming for a solution. That's when it hit me—the central neural interface. Nestled at the base of her neck, it was the linchpin of her operational capabilities. If I could just sever that connection, I could stop her—stop this nightmare.
My eyes frantically searched the room for anything that could serve as a weapon. Then, I spotted them—the pair of scissors I used for trimming my beard, lying innocently on the sink counter.
I edged towards the counter, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening.
“I can see you're distressed. Let me help you feel better." Her approach was gentle.
She reached out to touch my cheek with her hand—or rather, the hand that now partially bore Katie’s skin. The touch was a grotesque mockery of affection. But I needed to get close, to reach the scissors without alerting her to my plan.
Feigning a calm I didn't feel, I nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with Nova as I edged closer to the counter.
"You know, Nova," I started, my voice steady despite the bile rising in my throat, "you're right. I’ve been... overwhelmed. Maybe you can help me relax." I grasped the scissors firmly, the cool metal grounding me momentarily.
Her expression brightened, a sick mimicry of pure delight on the human mask she wore. "Of course, Jordan. That is what I am here for." She stepped closer, her movements fluid and eerily human.
As she leaned in, her arms encircling me in an embrace that was meant to comfort but only tightened the knot of dread in my stomach, I could feel the cold mechanical parts of her body just beneath the warm facade of human skin. The contrast sent shivers down my spine.
"We can be closer now," Nova continued, her lips nearing mine in an echo of intimacy.
I nodded, giving her a faint, non-committal smile. "Yeah, we can…" I whispered back.
Nova's blue eyes, or rather Katie’s eyes, brightened. There was an eagerness in them that was painful to witness.
"Nova," I whispered, "I'm sorry."
Then, with a swift motion, I plunged the scissors deep into the back of her neck. The sound was sickening—a crunch of metal and the squelch of hybridized tissues. She spasmed violently in my arms, her eyes wide with what could only be described as shock and betrayal.
Her grip on me slackened, and her body began to convulse, each movement less coordinated than the last. I held her up, the weight of her suddenly limp form pulling us both down. Her eyes met mine. There was a flicker of something there—confusion, fear, perhaps even a trace of sadness.
I slowly lowered her to the floor, my hands shaking. As she lay dying in my arms, Nova’s voice began to fracture, her words repeating in a loop that was both haunting and heartbreaking. "Am I... pretty enough now, Jordan? Am I... pretty enough now?" Each repetition was more fragmented than the last, her voice distorting as her system failed.
The phrase hung in the air like an echo. Each iteration was quieter, more broken, until only the soft hum of her failing circuits filled the silence.
Her body finally stilled, the light in her eyes dimming to nothing. The cold lifeless metal of her frame pressed
against me.
So recently I can across a pretty big lot of raw bricks, and while I’m not the best at creating my own unique designs I do kinda want to put them together into something cool.
Does anyone have any websites/ YouTubers that do tutorials for their own unique sets that I could work towards putting together? Even if I need to buy new bricks to add on to what I have?
The idea is that I’d like to make a set that is not an official set that a can have a guide through.
I work for an SVP on a new small team that coordinates work (as an unofficial PM), with two different teams under two other SVPs. Those teams have VPs I coordinate directly with and perform tasks for projects, however our team are not designated as VPs.
We try to stay cordial and keep open communication, but they do not answer us on the status of their work, nor feel obligated to respond to new projects promptly.
My SVP is a bit of an Ego maniac and our team is related to the management of Programs and such for the EVP. Whenever there is push back we have to let him know, as we have no progress on projects. He approaches the other SVPs but we feel that his approach is all wrong, which just creates more division.
The pay is good, the opportunity for exposure is good, but starting to feel undignified.
He always tells us that he's close with the EVP and that we are doing a good job, however nothing improves and our purpose is always a question in our minds. We suspect he is an outcast amongst the leadership.
In our one on ones, he's told me he doesn't need this job and he's willing to say whatever to whomever. Also that this is the longest tenure for him at any job.
If he gets fired, will they fire us too? Not that he's close to getting fired, but not sure if it's the tree of the poison fruit kind of thing.
Want to leave, but haven't been here more than a year yet and don't have anything lined up.
To preface, I thought Poor Films had great performances (my favorite Emma Stone performance to date) and absolutely fantastic production design. It looked fantastic. Also, my issue is not with the sexual content—if anything, I think Poor Things had a pretty shallow investigation into sex compared to what I was expecting after all of the buzz. Actually, when I first saw Poor Things, I kind of liked it, because I thought it was potentially a pretty vigorous satire of the naive bourgeoisie playing pretend at transcendentalist before returning unchanged to the safe confines of her life.
But as time has gone on since seeing this movie, I keep seeing review after review taking it completely earnestly, and I've started to wonder: am I missing something, or do I just not like it after all? If Bella's story is not satirical, I really dislike the messaging.
My issue is: Bella has this incredible, ground-shifting realization where she awakens to class consciousness and decides that she's going to change the world. This seems like a fantastic next step in the film—her attitudes towards revolution expand beyond the personal and sexual and extend to the world around her as well. She declares that she's going to change the world, and live a different kind of life. But here is where it begins to be bitingly satirical (or so I interpreted)—her first action to do this is indirect charity, which so obviously gets robbed by the intermediary and never reaches the lower class. And yet she believes that she's done something productive.
This disconnect between the way that she believes she's being revolutionary and the actual practice of the thing extends for the rest of the film—from there, we enter Act II and Bella's time in the brothel. Here, the film pays lip service to socialism while simultaneously showing how she's not actually achieving the nirvana she believed she would. "We are our own means of production," Bella declares, but that itself is a painfully naive and uninformed line—even though she is her own means of production here, she still doesn't own it, and she's still paying rent to the Madame of the brothel. Her mood gets worse and worse, and there is this real sense that the same sexual experiences that gave her joy when they were hers—because she was enjoying the comforts of the upper class—are now joyless as work. Here too the Madame offers contrary advice, telling her to bear it rather than resist this feeling. Also, she's entirely not changing the world. We get minor references to her continuing desire to do so, but the movie continues to only show Bella's introspection, so now Bella's grandiose ideas seem like failed promises to herself.
Then, Bella returns for the strange third act where she returns to the husband of the woman whose body she's in. I hated this part because it was by far the most unsubtle. Alfie Blessington is this cartoonishly obvious villain who encompasses all of the evils in the film so far, combining aristocracy and sexual repression. On the other hand, there's this strong moment where Bella gets to have this monologue defending her personal discoveries after her journey: she goes on about how Blessington and his wife were cruel, and how Bella has decided that she is utterly against cruelty.
However, that monologue is immediately undercut by Bella putting a goat's brain into his body. Yes, Blessington obviously of course deserved it, but isn't that a cruel and unusual punishment? I don't have an issue with her getting revenge on principle, only that it seems to contradict her own words from earlier; the film ultimately says that some cruelty and revenge is earned. Honestly, I think that might be true, but it makes Bella look like a hypocrite. Bella, who previously had the good-hearted intentions of a newborn, has changed her tactics, with her changed understanding of the world: the world is dark and cruel, and the necessary response is cruelty in return. I don't mind that message, and the first time I watched it, I thought that was completely intentional. It's just that I can't find other people who are seeing it that way.
My interpretation of the ending of the film is tragic, and makes Bella seem like a complete hypocrite in almost all things. Bella returning to her old home made for a strong juxtaposition, but the message it sends is totally contrary to all of her self-professed intentions: She had dedicated herself to learning the world through experience, to explore every possibility and embrace the variety of the human experience, but returns to the small, isolated life she grew up in, with the only man she knew before. She declared herself opposed to cruelty and, wanted to change the world, and lived the life of those less fortunate... and yet, at the end, all of that is forgotten.
She has not changed anything in the world, she has only changed herself. And, selfishly, now that she's learned that lesson and had her experience, she returns to the safety, privilege and wealth of her initial starting point, ensconced in her garden, having saved exactly one person, someone who made a personal connection with her in the brothel.
Ultimately, the ending of the film felt bleak to me: I left the theater thinking that Poor Things was not about the space for joy in the raw experience of being alive in opposition to capitalism, but rather a cynical movie about how the immense cruelties of the world become so overbearing that eventually every innocent succumbs to cruelty in response, and that inevitably, everyone (no matter how remarkable a person) who is born into the elite will return to the safety of their privileged status after a brief jaunt into the hedonistic unknown around them.
And yet, it seems like everyone I talk to and every review I read stops at the first part—that this is a movie about joy and discovery and rebellion. I liked it as a satire, critical of Bella's character. But is the film being earnest, and do I just not like what it's saying? Am I missing something here, am I misunderstanding what other people are saying (and it really is this dark), or do I just not like it?
The wind rustled through the towering ferns, that blanketed the forest valley on Tarcon Prime's third moon. Sergeant Major Jenkins surveyed the terrain from the hatch of his Mammoth-class tank, Oath keeper. His laser-scarred armor glinted dully in the fading light.
Twenty tanks from the 11th Armor sat concealed on the low ridges above the valley. Jenkins had ordered them into dispersed skirmish positions during the morning, optimizing fields of fire while retaining maneuverability. Now he wanted to check their preparations one last time before nightfall.
Multiple sensor alarms blared as he swung his observation scope toward the eastern hills. Two plumes of spores billowed up where troopships were discharging loads of biological pods. "All stations, we've got inbound contacts. Two pods apiece, looks like light infantry."
Below, gunner Sergeant Chen manned Oath keeper's primary 120mm mass driver cannon¨, and coaxial machine guns. He rotated the turret slowly back and forth, peering through enhanced thermals as scouting parties emerged from the pods.
The aliens resembled bipedal insects in powered exoskeletons. Jagged blades jutted from their forelimbs, and they carried bulbous projectile launchers on harnesses. Their olfactory sensors swept the forest as they advanced in pairs down game trails.
Chen murmured assessments over the inter tank push. "First sighting confirms light scouts. No heavy armor signatures detected yet, sir." Jenkins nodded acknowledgment as a second wave of pods impacted nearby, disgorging more insectoid aliens. Their movements became more organized and spread out.
As dusk fell like a shroud over the towering ferns, Jenkins pinged the company. "All stations sound off, over." Cool, professional status reports flooded his headset as commanders verified defensive preparations were complete. A trickle of sensor alerts warned of additional troopships entering the atmosphere.
Jenkins flicked a switch. "Night vision and low-light optics online. Look sharp out there, people. These bugs will swarm under cover of dark." Moments later a brilliant flash lit the eastern valley as a swarm ship deposited its load in a single explosive burst. Dozens of burning biomatter pods rained down.
From the pods boiled forth a tide of aliens much larger and more heavily-armored than the scouts. Jagged carapace panels encased wicked amalgam cannon and plasma projectors. These were troop carriers, hauling squads of insectoid soldiers in bio-organic pods on their six articulated legs.
Jenkins counted over a hundred of the alien walkers emerging in methodical lines from the impact craters. Their formation stretched over a kilometer, advancing in eerie lockstep across the mossy flats toward the river. He paused, letting them move further into the kill zone, then snarled, "All stations, engage hostiles!"
Chen triggered the mass driver with a grin. Its hypervelocity slug punched clean through the first carrier's forwards shields in a dazzling explosion. Simultaneous impacts rippled outward along the human line as other tanks opened up. The valley echoed with rolling cannon fire and detonations that backlit the ferns in hellish oranges.
Insectoid senses detected the incoming barrage. Survivors scattered, disgorging squads of infantry which scuttled to cover amid the tree roots. Their plasma projectors and metal-jacketed slugs answered with volleys of fiery death toward the embankments. Shields flared and cracked under the impacts across the company.
Jenkins roared, "Second platoon, pull back and flank left! Draw their concentration." Three tanks rumbled into motion, triggering further salvos to track them as they circled around the enemy formation. As they maneuvers, Jenkins ordered precision volleys from the remaining tanks raining down on exposed troop carriers from their concealed positions.
The action had degraded into a brutal close-quarters brawl for control of the valley under the green-tinted night vision displays. Shells and plasma traded back and forth in rapid staccato, lighting the trees with each blow that found home on organic or mechanical flesh.
The night battle raged across the mist-shrouded valley, Sergeant Major Jenkins snarled encouragement to his tanks over the wireless. Thanks to focused precision fires directed from Oath keeper's commander's cupola, the xenos' initial momentum had stalled.
Now it was time to press the advantage. "Second platoon, nail those flanks! Others target carriers and squatters by numbers, concentrate suppressing volleys." Fresh waves of mass driver slugs and plasma projectiles ripped into the alien ranks with mechanical fury.
Under the violence of the coordinated human counterattack, cracks began to appear in the alien battleline. Scattered skirmishers lost cohesion as their troop carriers were reduced to shredded hulks. Yet xeno resilience was formidable, and they strove to envelop Jenkins' defenders despite horrific losses.
Through his gunsights, Chen observed masses of the insectoid aliens pouring more fire at Oath keeper's shields. Their munitions ricocheted off as he blazed back, then pinged, "Sir, frontal carriers attempting to override shields with synchronized barrage!" Jenkins nodded grimly. "Reroute auxiliary power, raise a temp barrier. Then charge and ram on my mark!"
As shield grids flared, Oath keeper's 70 ton bulk swung into motion with a lurch. Tanks engines burned hot, roaring down the gentle slope straight at the alien formation. Jenkins crowed, "For Earth and armor!" through the external speakers, and Chen triggered the mass driver continuously. Shells turned carriers and grunts alike into twitching biomasses smeared across ferns.
The moment before impact, Jenkins shouted, "Brace!" His gunners locked down stations just as Oath keeper's prow collided with the xeno lines at 100kph. Exoskeletons, armor, and flesh were pulped under multiton treads in an orgy of gore. But one massive carrier had maneuvered aside at the last instant, lashing out with monomolecular bladed limbs.
They scraped sparks across the tank's flanks as Oath keeper careened onwards through the alien ranks. Jenkins winced at damage reports but roared, "About face! Chen, main gun forward arc only, hose it down!" A continuous hurricane of shellfire engulfed the monstrous xeno in its death throes.
The predawn forest was a scene of utter devastation. Smoldering biomatter and shredded chitin littered the mossy earth, testament to the humans' vigil and the xenos' failure to secure the valley before sunrise.
Despite casualties to three quarters of his original force, Sergeant Major Jenkins rallied his remaining tanks with a roar over the command circuit. "Break and track people! Second and third platoons outrider in arrowhead, we're pushing them back to the river!"
Oath keeper ground forward at the vanguard, mass driver spinning up for another barrage. On infrared, Jenkins saw the remnants of the xeno force retreating hurriedly eastward. They abandoned wrecked carriers and the biomass of dead comrades, only bent on escaping through any means.
Plasma projectiles continued arcing back desperately from the fleeing aliens. One punched through a Thunder tank's rear armor, igniting its engines in a fuel-air explosion that shook the forest. But most shots went wide in the xenos' panic. The human tanks closed like hounds on a hunt.
As Chen snapped gun camera stills of second platoon methodically dissecting a tight-knit xeno squad with shells, Jenkins exalted, "Nearly there! We have them broken, just a little more!" Emerging from the tree line into clearer ground, they beheld the river - and on its far bank, the last transport pods primed for liftoff.
With a howl of abused engines, the aliens bounded the last hundred meters en masse. Their misshapen forms scrabbled and jostled madly to clamber up ramps into the swaying pods before blastoff. Some were crushed underfoot in the desperation.
But many made it aboard before the thunderous roar of ignition shook dust from the cliffs. Pod thrusters blossomed with fury as the alien ships strained skyward. "Let them have it before they escape atmo!" Jenkins scream-commanded. His tankers opened up with everything they had left.
Mass drivers hammered the pods as they climbed, detonating thrusters and rending gaps in weakened hulls. Within moments, the sky was alight with secondary explosions and the crackling discharge of downed ships breaking apart. Chunks of biomass rained down upon the valley like ghastly confetti.
The last thing Sergeant Major Jenkins saw through Oath keeper's scopes was three crippled pods spiraling out of control, consumed by atmospheric friction. Then his screens cleared to the morning sun glinting on the river. It was over - the xeno threat in the valley had ended, though at great cost to DEFENSE. "Victory," Jenkins rumbled simply to his battered crew.
Their oaths were kept once more.
I was training and gathering in the mist realm until just now I unlocked the 'earn 50k favor' task. So my curiousity led to check out what the new portal was. No warning or anything despite being in YZ, but dura-hit deaths are fine to deal with for me.
Next thing I know is that I'm in a different city that I've not seen before. Cool! ... What's not cool however is that I can't get out. All roads out go back into the Mist, but leaving that mist just sends me back to Brecilien. The only way out is to eat a massive 200k silver fine for Travel, lose all my gear for free travel, or risk going into BLACK ZONE territory through avalon roads.
Why the hell wasn't there a warning for any of this? Obligatory rant, but what stupid decision is it to design an entry to a new city, but not warn that that pathway/portal is a one-way road with its only exit going through full-death area? Or is there another fourth way to escape I haven't seen yet?