the middleman

𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣.  𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺. 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭.

[afacere]

  #afacere  ⋯  an independent and singleverse roleplay blog for a superpowered original character that mingles amongst criminals, civilians, the supernatural and the magical.    written by ghost.    heavily focused on collaborative storytelling, dynamic and connection development, and character-focused interactions.

very low, slow, and sporadic activity.    it is mandatory to read the guidelines before following.    respect the character and lore that exists on this blog or do not follow.

 blog information:  canon and lore ・  carrd *    * for those on mobile be sure to rotate to landscape mode       since the carrd was originally made for desktop viewing

 other information:  business info ・  power info

please note:   every interaction + every character dynamic impacts and affects my character due to this being a single-verse blog.  which makes everything  ❛ canon ❜  because of the long-term effects that other characters have on mine. so for my own comfort, i would prefer only follows / follow backs from those who are equally interested in things affecting their character (s), rather than those who reset for other interactions.

[yotsaba]

[afacere]

Why People Are Choosing an AI Girlfriend in the First Place

The honest reason most people try an AI girlfriend is simple: they want someone who is always there, never too busy, and never makes them feel small for wanting attention. SweetDream leans into exactly that. On sweetdream.ai you build a companion who greets you warmly whenever you show up, whether that's a five-minute check-in or a long late-night talk.

The purpose isn't to replace people. It's to give you a calm, judgment-free space where you can be yourself. That's why the chat is so emotionally intelligent and the photos, voice, and calls feel genuine. If you've been curious about what an AI companion is actually for, this is it.

[gummi-stims]

🍦🔪🩸💀Halloween ice cream cones from sunnyscoopicecream on tiktok!💀🩸🔪🍦

[devilsskettle]

horror fan conversation simulator 

[jdramasource]

[weloveshortvideos]

[yorgen-sh]

The Chinese shoe manufacturer decided to demonstrate the indestructibility of their shoes

[the-haunted-office]

Doom doesn't feel any inclination to panic or do anything just yet besides stand there and finish off her sandwich. Best to get that out of her way so she can focus better on what's going on here and figure out where Fumi went. Just a couple bites left and she's ready to move on.

Darkness isn't that much of an issue to her. Her human eyes might not be able to see well... much at all, much less in darkness, but her Reaper eyes can see decently in the dark. Right now the fact that everything is dark except for where she can see Fumi's soul is very telling.

They aren't in the Office anymore. They've gotten kicked out of it, or dimension hopped, or kidnapped by another dimension. Whichever, Doom can't see any other souls anymore, even the Office's soul, which means they aren't in Kansas anymore, both literally and figuratively. Or - who knows - maybe they are still in Kansas, but just no longer in the Office.

Well, that's not a big deal to Doomsday. That does not alarm her. Dimension hopping happens all the time by the very nature of the Office. It's how Fumi ended up there to begin with. It doesn't surprise her at all that it's now kicked both of them out somewhere else. Fucking asshole Office.

But whatever. All she needs to do is get to Fumi, find out if she wants to go back with her to the Office, sit back down there, sort things out, figure out where she's from, and then figure out how to get her back there. That's all Doom cares about right now, not this stupid-ass dark house or wherever they're at. She can hear a voice speaking in the other room- well, a pair of voices, sort of, one seems to be speaking and the other seems to be yelling. It's hard to tell, it sounds further away to her than it ought to be. Who knows how physics work around here. She's learned from her many trips around the multiverse that what goes up in one place goes down in another.

With her sandwich gone and needing an actual light source to see around this place, Doom spawns in a lantern. She turns up the soft light of it and holds it up to see around the area, and that's when a flashlight beam falls on her.

Along with Fumi's voice.

"Oh, hey, there you are. I was about to come find y- aaagghghhhh! What the fuck is that?!!!" she cries out, irritated by the noise, trying to press her hands to her ears while holding onto the lantern, but then the light from it being so close to her face it bothers her eyes so she pulls it away.

"What? God damn-" she complains, rubbing her ears a couple times, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. "Is this another Office? Must be a really stupid one with a really shitty ANNOYING NARRATOR," she yells at the ceiling. "God. That hurt."

Scoffing, she looks back to Fumi, now clearly pissed off - not at her, though, it's from the noise. "What are you talking about? I'm not playing any of these stupid games. I'm going back to my Office. Do you want to come back with me? We can talk more there if you like and figure out how to get back to where you came from, but I'm not sticking around whatever dumb shit place this is."

With that, Doom turns and presses her hands against the air, like she's searching for a pair of curtains. She moves to pull them open-

-and then stops, her expression dropping, becoming even more annoyed.

"...They've taken away my ability to make portals? HOW???? RRGGHGHG." She growls, loudly. "Hey!" She shouts again at the ceiling. "I'm not playing whatever game you're wanting. You can go fuck yourself!" As she yells, she goes over to a wall and kicks it as hard as she can, which would normally be hard enough to put a hole in it.

[afacere]

admittedly, there had been a moment when she wondered if this was the real doomsday.  it would be easy in this type of situation to create something based on what the being has observed before the kidnapping or even to look into fumi’s memories.  here, a treat so you’ll stop going crazy on your own, or even, here: i’ve created something of the humanoid variety that can torment you.  either/or, it had raised her suspicions high as a kite... until the other’s reaction.

that pinched, poorly-covered irritation smoothed out the longer and the more the other spoke.  mentally tucking away mention of a ‘really shitty annoying narrator’ to add to the list of other information gathered so far, and as the other turned towards her, fumi couldn’t help the tired blink away to look at the wall down the hall.  eyes momentarily landed on the plain wall that was once a doorway, then gaze jumped back to fall on the other once more.  watching the other in silence...

and realizing, of course doomsday wasn’t an ordinary human.   ❛ stupid of me, really, making assumptions. ❜   in the way that doomsday had turned, pissed, but not at fumi; she too did the same now with a turn of the head as she let out a sigh.  not directed at the others' reaction to the nullification of their portal ability, but more so a sigh of relief at the realization.

with an ordinary human, she would need to skirt around answering one question after another, about where she pulled and put things earlier, where she got the flashlight she held now, and why or how she was so calm.   where her own question was:  is this the real person?   and any question that could have and should have been raised towards the lantern, was brushed off in her mind.  but somehow, the mention of having the ability to make portals was like finding a key puzzle piece to an otherwise vague shape of a picture.  but, that didn’t matter much right now.

calm and unflinching, fumi’s gaze slid down as doomsday’s anger bubbled up into kicking the wall.  the flashlight in hand was quickly jerked to beam at the hole so that she could stare properly at the sight.  she watched the hole that led to endless pitch darkness, pushing the other’s foot backwards into the space as it ‘rewound’ the chunks of wall back into place so that it looked like it had never been kicked.

    ❛❛ so it’s not just the shit in here... ❜❜  

the words flowed out absent-mindedly as fumi beamed her flashlight up, tracing the light along the ceiling, and then turning it down the hall from where they came.  doing this because, now she had a hunch.  a bad thing to have for someone like fumi.

her slow and measured movements were swapped out as she moved past the other, back down the hall, and as feet moved, her free hand jerked so that something appeared in hand.   it looked like a toy with its customized heart-shaped barrel, but the frame of the one-handed pistol spoke otherwise, along with the very real and not-toy-like beam that VRRRRMMM!’d out when her finger pulled the trigger.  the pastel pink-colored beam broke through the darkness and hit through the plain wall as her feet rushed forward to close the distance.  the space was already trying to repair the destruction that was being done to the wall.  but fumi and the gun accomplished their goal, with a block of blackness being exposed  . . .  and the redhead leaping the remaining distance into said blackness.

     and silence fell.

the space calmly repaired the remainder of the wall back into place, with chunks and fragments slotted back into place as if the prior events had never happened.  and for a moment, as if the redhead had never been there.

❛❛ oof! ❜❜   abruptly, her voice sounded out after a few seconds.  gun and flashlight flopped onto the carpet as fumi lay on her side a few feet from the wall.  as if she had been falling when it brought her back.

she raised a hand, a sort of surrender at doomsday;   ❛❛ i had to confirm something. ❜❜   she grunted out while moving to sit up, then moved to grab the flashlight and gun, with the gun vanishing after being grabbed.  standing back onto her feet with a deep sigh,   ❛❛ we’re in the middle of nothing.  you start falling into nothing, and... ❜❜   a vague hand gesture was given towards her reentry.  certainly skipping a number of things, such as how dangerous that could have been if her hunch was wrong.  but one had to wonder if such a thought had crossed her mind.

it was debatable, given the way fumi calmly moved on to have a sketchbook and pencil appear in hand, looking around to gauge and draw out an idea of the layout.

[femrevenge]

Kalia was never a woman to turn down getting into something that maybe she shouldn't. Her entire life was revolved around criminals, and had been since the moment she was born. She knew how things worked, and she knew the moment she stepped out of that bar, her brother would have an entire search party looking for her within minutes.

Yet, that never seemed to make her care. Kalia had never been well behaved, and thought all of that "women listen and act appropriately" stuff was all bullshit anyway. She did exactly whatever she wanted and whenever she wanted to.

When Fumi's question came to fruition, she smirked widely while her tongue ran over her bottom lip. "I know I am, darling... what do you have in mind because whatever it is... it's a 'yes' from me."

[afacere]

thankfully, or maybe luckily was the better term, with the amount of time fumi had spent masking... her sheer confusion hadn’t made its way right onto her face.  and lucky still, her bouncing thoughts remained in her head, rather than splashed across her face.

❛ is she flirting with me?  no, that makes no sense... wait, am i being hazed?  am i gonna be impaled on a wooden pole like that one movie... what was that movie—wait.  focus. ❜ straying hues snapped back to look at kalia, focusing back on the present situation rather than off recollecting things.  she elegantly recovered those solid few seconds of clear silence and obvious distraction  . . .  by reaching out a hand with the thumb extended and swiping said thumb over the woman’s bottom lip.

suave charm oozed from the redhead’s expression and voice as she started off with,   ❛❛ well, that’s — ❜❜   but once she had charmingly brought the thumb up to swipe her tongue against it, whatever she was going to say was cut off by:   ❛❛ bleh— that’s not edible— bleh — ❜❜   rubbing off the cosmetic on her tongue with one hand, as the other reached into a jeans pocket to pull out her phone, and swiftly type out a message to kieran one-handed.    ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢʀᴀʙ ʟᴜɴᴄʜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴋᴀʟɪᴀ

[alg0rhythm1c]

The impenetrable wall looked almost offended.

Kind of amazing, how a subtle jab could influence the human facial rig.

Was she scheming, now? Or playing along? Who knew.

The science aside, Rex didn't seem to care all that much, as he continued his task of arranging crusty icons by name. Yesterday, it was by byte size. Some other times, by metadata. His cartoon body stood like a bent pole, while his arms hovered above, dragging dozens of files into order.

If Dear Watson, over here, would bother to question why, he'd provide an answer about being task-oriented. That's the professional word for a nervous wreck. Then, he'd segue into whether or not he had permission to play JumpStart: Third Grade. Because he was running out of things to do. If he wasn't matching memory cards of bicycles and oranges, or computing the product of four and two under the jurisdiction of a low-res cartoon dog, he felt like a drain on the electric bill.

The way Fumi cast aside the clipboard, leaned back, embodying the director, the amateur psychoanalyst, he knew he wasn't in for a break.

Rex's own facial rig met the conversation with clear exhaustion, lids angled down over his eyes. Silently, his machine-vision took note of the ever-present camera, although his character's eyes remained reluctantly on his adversary.

Was he being… baited? Somehow?

His floating arms returned to his sides, hesitant. His eyes flicked sidelong, his program silently ticking along in indecision. On the other screen, the black box was running into the same blocks of output, stacking repeatedly. A few loops had branched off from his main, and neither seemed promising for an answer.

"I…" he began, forcing a smile, "Sure. I mean, if Poindexter couldn't pull a fact, he wouldn't be much of a trivia guy." His forearm rested against the edge of a window, bell bottoms crossed casually.

The camera remained quiet, no longer tracking his movements. Surely, this did not bode well.

But surely they all knew what he was, right? It wasn't a secret. Though everyone here seemed older, at glance, than the 12-25 demographic making questionable edits of his character, he'd never underestimate the spread of the internet.

[afacere]

she needed to think now.

that gut feeling came rushing forward all at once at rex’s expression, exhausted then forcefully conversational, and then  . . .  silence pressed down with only the hum of the computer slotting in after fumi’s lack of response.  an intensity came into her gaze that had slid to the side, staring at the wall that separated the pair from the room of men.

    think.  faster.

did she trust her gut?  with that feeling of something being off?  but with no sound or logical proof tying in beyond a feeling, a hunch, if even that?  or did she put on that mask and continue on with chipper pleasantries?  out of sight and out of mind, one might say.

instead of circling these thoughts of emotions versus logic, or the mind versus feelings, other thoughts flooded forward.   move.  now.  move. now.   and this was enough for that intense gaze to flick back towards the screen, onto rex.  for a second, she wished that she could convey an apology, or convey anything with her eyes... but to do so would—truthfully—include him in on the plan and make her next actions less of a surprise.

said next actions were quick.  with fumi abruptly standing to her feet and the chair jostling backwards from the force, nearly toppling over from the motion.  the abruptness only continued as she grabbed up the clipboard and turned to face the security camera.

❛❛ no fucking wonder you’ve got pages and pages of the same shit. ❜❜   smacking at the clipboard to emphasize ‘pages and pages,’ before gesturing with it towards the screen.   ❛❛ is this even the real poindexter?  or is this some damn... character ai?! ❜❜   her exclamation, referencing the generative ai chatbot, was emphasized by slapping (throwing, really) the clipboard down on the chair seat.

and it didn’t stop there.

fumi yanked the provided keycard from her cardigan pocket and, in a whirlwind, made long strides over to the door that was camouflaged to look like a wall and pressed it inelegantly against the slab.  error noises joined the clatter of the improperly swiped key card, and instead of changing her method, fumi whirled around to start banging a foot and a fist against the camouflaged door.  her exclamations came back as she yelled,   ❛❛ let me out!  this is fucking bullshite!  let me out! ❜❜   cycling through these until the ‘wall’ whooshed away to reveal not one, but two security guards standing there.  her balled fists moved then, covering her lower face in a cowering pose, and her body turned as she shrieked:   ❛❛ get away from me! ❜❜  

her turned body rushed to move back inwards into the room, hands unballing to rush forward to cup the sides of the monitor that rex was on, and thick sleeves blocked her mouth as head dipped down.  calmly and firmly whispering,   ❛❛ stay strong. ❜❜   quickly releasing the monitor so that it wouldn’t be knocked off of the desk when burly hands grabbed up her arms.  partially lifting her off the ground and partially dragging her out of the room while she screamed, “let go of me!” with a high-pitch as they escorted the crazy redhead out of the building.

    » » »

the clock showed 2:53 AM at the bottom corner of the screen where she sat at.  retro yet modern in its design, but ‘nostalgic’ with the old sounds it made as fumi rushed through windows and her eyes darted over names.

extra precautions had been taken beyond security, with the feed looping into a boring nothingness, with no sign of anyone ‘blinking’ past solid doors they had been escorted through hours earlier.  with her hood up and thin gloves over her hands, the crazy redhead sat in the chair of the head of the operation behind this.  eyes skimming until she leaned forward once she was sure that she had frozen the record that would normally show a log for her next action.

❛❛ hey.  suicidal guy in the computer.  you ready to get outta there? ❜❜   which was: speaking into the microphone that broadcast into the room rex was in.  her eyes glanced at the frozen security feed, then back to diving into programs.  although the employees were all mandated to be long gone, she wasn’t particularly looking to hang out for a slow stroll in the park, which is to say, finding what was keeping rex stuck.

[quietwingsinthesky]

what’s the point of giving your character severe trauma if it doesn’t make them an asshole to work with. not in a cute way. they should be a fucking cunt. they have to make problems on purpose. they have to lash out at their friends without even being provoked, just because they’re having a bad day and they want to hurt someone to cope with it. on purpose. they have to want to hurt someone on purpose. they can regret it later, but they can’t just say something mean on accident, it has to be calculated and cruel and so, so intentional.

[ashencranes]

Fetch was not in a great mood, and it seemed there were low chances of it getting better. Still, he was professional enough not to let anything make him cruel. At least not yet, anyways. He could feel a muscle twitch on the side of his neck, right where the shoulder connection was, and he moved his hand up to massage the specific spot. The silence that accompanied him was enough to make him be able to respond without being too prickly.

"Partnership. Fifty-fifty." He repeated after her, focusing on his tone, not to sound like he was mocking her. "I never said I wasn't going to treat this like a partnership, yeah? Just, I think, we should have roles -- areas of expertise, if you will." His hands waved around as he was gesturing a bunch of non-distinct symbols in the air, almost as if that was supposed to somehow explain his concept. "I'm not trying to treat you any sort of way, I don't know you well enough, but aye, thanks for assumin' that I'm assumin'."

The man chewed on a few curses but managed to control his temper. The day may be slightly challenging, he could feel it now, but at the same time, he preferred this than someone who'd be overly dependent on him. He assumed that if the doctor thought fumi was good enough, then that meant she didn't need too much protection, and Fetch was more of a 'just-in-case'. "I don't have a car. You drive. I'll be the passenger princess today." They needed to drive outside of the city anyway, to a relatively freshly paused construction site. The doctor mentioned James somewhere in the conversation which mean, they were going to be faced with some real shit. "Question though -- are you squeamish? You don't look it but... I'd prefer to know now."

[afacere]

as they stood there in silence, fumi’s stance adjusted to something . . . peculiar.   relaxed, in a sense, with each hand loosely cupping the elbow of the opposite arm that were both loosely crossed, but the stance itself was what clashed.  with each foot squarely spread shoulder-width apart, there was no awkward adjustment from foot to foot as they stood there.  and only a slow blink as he spoke, repeating her words back.

maybe it would have been better to have a ‘normal’ reaction.  to roll her eyes as fetch continued speaking, but instead, her eyes were still and focused.  only moving down momentarily as he gestured with his hands, then moving back up at his words.  eyes boring into him until he finished.

and when he did, she couldn’t help it; well, maybe she could’ve,  but ultimately,  she couldn’t help the warble that ruined her blank expression.  lips moved by humor and warbling out of their stationary state, before they quickly spread into a mirthful grin.  those previously intense hues joined in with their narrowing forming ‘eye smiles.’  a humor that had been building from the moment she watched a muscle twitch, now came flooding out as her head turned and shoulders shook out a silent laugh.  with at least that much out of her system, fumi turned her grin to beam back onto fetch.  his slouch helped it be directed forward without any tilt of the head up or down, and maybe that would have been for the better... if not for the humored bastard standing before him right now.

because, seconds after she had turned back towards him, fumi leaned forward to not only invade the man’s space but also hunch herself down so that she would be looking upwards at him.   ❛❛ who the motherr~rfucking hell is assuming now, prr~rincess? ❜❜   profanity and rolling r’s both flowed out with ease from behind the dam they were typically contained behind.  but, even still, she didn’t linger with this humor and quickly leaned up and out of fetch’s space.  her prior stance shifted with this move, to now stand with a hand on a cocked-out hip.   ❛❛ you want roles?  go cry to whiteblood to pay me more so our ‘areas of expertise’ can swing in your favor. ❜❜   her words were capped off by a sharp tilt of the head towards the doctor’s closed door, but only a few seconds were given before she steamrolled right on.

❛❛ but if you want to get on with the job and see if my mouth gets ripped apart by what we’re walking into, then let’s go, babygirr~rl. ❜❜   rather than tilting her head to angle after those... choice of words... that had flowed out, fumi rolled her head and body in one turn towards the front door.  not even glancing back at the other as she strode over, opened the door and strode towards a vw bus with one hand pulling her phone from a jeans pocket, and the other reaching out to unlock the driver’s door.  once inside and seated, she would lean over to unlock the passenger door, then lean back as one hand tapped at the screen of the phone and the other pressed the key into the ignition.

perhaps it was arrogance, or perhaps it was simply being able to read someone, but the redhead knew that fetch would eventually get into the passenger seat while she looked up a route to the construction site.

[rezcowgirl]

Visit Original Link

[rabonghee]

#kdramawomensweek Day Eight: Age of Youth: The airport scene 

From All the relatable scenes in this drama, This one where Jin Myung buys her ticket for a trip to China is the closest to reality I can think of; I’ve heard so many times people talking about how someone must had come from a rich family or done something bad in order to self reward themselves, what people never think of is how much you could have worked to achieve that goal.

[outfit-awards]

[cinematic-literature]

Seinfeld S02E01 (The Ex-Girlfriend)

Book title: I’m OK – You’re OK (1969) by Thomas Anthony Harris; Staying Well With the Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense (1990) by Suzette Haden Elgin; Do I Have to Give Up Me to Be Loved by You? (1983) by Margaret and Jordan Paul

[feralpodcastlistener]

THE CHARACTER *rips hair out* AGHHHHHHHHH THE CHARACTER *blasts music* THE FUCKING CHARACTER AUGHHHAUABHHHBBHBHHHHHH *explodes*