IC Contact Post for Ryslig

[godofthemachine]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, AM/'0100000101001101' . FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 009.04.121.69 *** AM/'0100000101001101' has joined 009.04.121.69 <0100000101001101> Leave a message.

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ACTION, CW: WHIPPING AND HUMILIATION

[inseine]

[When AM showed up in his office with that shark's grin and the whips, Javert knew exactly what he wanted. He hadn't forgotten how he'd goaded a contrite AM during the poison-week, taunted him to come and whip him when he didn't have the nerve. He knew he did this thing, and he knew, consequently, that he must yield to the punishment.

For many reasons. AM was happy to prattle them off for him: transgressing on his punitive area, keeping him from doing his work, stepping out of line and going 'too far' with his authorities (on this point, Javert disagrees, with a mind only for Madame Fog and Her aims). But above all, it was the godforsaken promise that damns him. Javert is a man of his word, and he will not allow himself to forget what he said and done. A promise is a promise, no matter how it was elicited. The whipping is owed. He will concede to it, or forever fall as a hypocrite.

He is better than that.

So he takes the initiative. He is the one to meet AM's gaze daringly. He is the one to march first down the hall, stripping off his outer layers as he glides. And he is the one to offer out his wrists for the ropes and chains to restrain him, the tautness of his jaw dampened only by the flaying skin of his burns.]

Here you have me. Go on.

[godofthemachine]

[AM certainly hasn't forgotten what happened during the week of chaos. He curses himself and the serum for afflicting him with whatever happened for many reasons - he felt love. Love. Genuine, disgusting love. Or whatever that horrid imitation of it was. It felt good, and yet it seemed to diminish his judgment and intellect like an awful drug. (No wonder he avoids drugs!)

He knows he is utterly incapable of love, thanks to how he was built. It causes an edge of bitterness in him now, especially as he mulls over how everyone else was acting. Javert was disgusting as usual, of course, but he had told AM to whip him.

And he would be a fool not to take advantage of that now.

Javert's stupid pride will be his undoing, as AM had told him. And it is because of people like Javert that AM can never feel love, can never feel anything aside from his bitter, seething hatred. So he's the perfect target right now.

So when Javert arrives, completely shirtless, offering himself up like some noble sacrifice, AM certainly won't say no.]

Well, as different as we may have acted last week, you still seem to want this. Perhaps the serum didn't affect you at all!

[He grins upon standing up and eagerly snatches Javert's wrists, letting his claws dig into the skin. He doesn't waste time in slipping the cuffs onto those wrists either - special silver-lined cuffs that he saves for the monsters who may be weak to it. (He doesn't know if that applies here, but why not experiment?)]

Oct. 7th

[ikonsuit]

Who are you?

What are you capable of?

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

I could ask you the same thing.

<archmage> cw: cannibalism and death threats

[icy_veins]

AM.

Do not think you can rest on your laurels now that we are back in Ryslig. I have not forgotten your cruelty within the Square.

Tell me where I can meet with you, so that I may divorce that odious head of yours from those shoulders and eat the eyes from your skull.

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

[Oh, that was so satisfying, being able to torture Eridanus, making him eat his words. Of course he would be mad. But if their past encounters have taught AM anything, it's that he can certainly beat the troll into a pulp again.]

Hm, you do make an enticing offer, but really, what's in it for me?

<KrisKringle>

[getmeoutofthedraft]

Ho ho ho! Your secret Santa gift recipient for this year is PasUnPolicier on the network.

His real name is Javert, but you know that. Just behave yourself, O.K.? Don't ruin this for everyone.

Please spend no more than 20 solars on a gift for Javert, and ensure he receives it on or before Christmas Day (December 25). If not, Santa Claus will come to your house and glare disappointedly through the windows until you cough up.

Merry Winter-Holiday-Of-Your-Choice!

[inseine]

[On the 24th of December, AM will find the following note upon his desk:]

Joyeux Noël.
Attached you will find your annual Christmas bonus. You may remove yourself from my sight for the next two days. I will expect you to report back on the 26th.
-Javert

[justbeingknife]

[ Season's greetings -- a Christmas present has arrived at the door!

It is a chicken hat! It fits perfectly. Not only is it fuzzy and made in official KFC colors, it also squeaks one of several recorded phrases when one squeezes its chicken wing, such as "Merry Clucking Christmas."]

[godofthemachine]

[AM stares at it for a bit, completely unamused.

Humans use their creativity for the dumbest shit sometimes.

But... it's better than what the parasites have done the past couple years, so he keeps it.]

(backdated mid december, for some reason I kept drawing a blank describing these???)

[the_carrion_spike]

[While Tarkin’s other gifts this year have been much more hunting oriented, (pelts and such) he’s found something he thinks AM would prefer far more. Tucked inside a plain white box are several thin gold ringlets, meant to be braided into his hair- which Tarkin spent some time admiring during their time together last month.]

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

[AM doesn't expect much in the way of holiday gifts and for the most part finds them useless.

But these are quite pretty - something he can easily make use of to decorate his hair. Tarkin gets a brief thank you note.]

Thank you for the hair bands.

<Archmage>

[icy_veins]

AM, you incorrigible brute, don't think I haven't forgotten about your rule-breaking in our last duel.

I want a rematch.

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

We both won that fight, wouldn't you say? But you won't be happy unless I lose. Which one of us is the brute again?

<PRIMOGENITOR>

[clonelord]

You are AM, correct? In charge of the prison sentence carried out upon that wretch, Daniel.

I have business with him, and not the kind that can be executed in simple visiting hours. I'm willing to make your cooperation worth your while, simply name your price.

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

I need some specifics before I allow unsanctioned business.

First of all, who are you?
Second of all, what sort of business?

<chimera> CALENDAR THEME

[boneshears]

Thanks for taking part in the pin up calendar! Your theme is: JANUARY - NEW YEAR FESTIVITIES

<KrisKringle>

[getmeoutofthedraft]

Ho ho ho! Merry freaking Christmas!

Your Secret Santa recipient this year is the Narumi Detective Agency ("narumi" on the network). Apparently there's three of them, but you only need to give them one present. Please buy, make, or otherwise procure them a nice gift before December 26! You can give this directly, or label it clearly and drop it off at Crowe Clinic C/O Hawkeye Pierce.

Remember: Saint Nick is watching, and he knows where you live! And he will annoy the ever-loving Hell out of you if you decide to ruin this for people.

Happy Holidays, etcetera, and so forth,
Santa Claus

[cratecrasher]

['Tis the season! Since AM's secret gifter for this year has no idea where the demon computer man actually lives, "Santa" himself helped with the delivery of a fairly large box, signed to be from the one and only Crash Bandicoot. Innocently, he very much would like to be friends if AM likes the present.

Inside is a gently used (scavenged) and carefully cleaned violin. Because computers appreciate music, right? Murdering people's eardrums is also a great torture method, oops.]

LATE NATTENSFEST GIFT TIME,

[noasark]

[As per Employee Tradition, AM has received an office gift from Noa! He's going to push his luck one of these days. Aside from the perhaps predicted mug with instant coffee packets, vouchers, and sweets, there is a multi-tool ornament of some kind.

Look he's done it every year and he refuses to stop now.]

<KrisKringle>

[getmeoutofthedraft]

Ho ho ho! Your Secret Santa giftee is BLUES, or "prototype" on the network.

Buy or make Blues a gift by December 26, or Santa will come down your chimney and box your ears.

And I swear to all things jolly and Christmassy, A.M., if you're a jerk about it I am going to make your life hell for the next twelve months. No pie will remain unthrown, and every toilet in your life will be backed up.

If you need more information, contact me C/O Hawkeye Pierce at Crowe Clinic, and I'll delegate him to tell you to do your own research.

Happy Nattensfest!

[agiantbird]

[On December 25th, AM will find a gift box, wrapped up in green and red paper. Attached is a card with a flamingo on it. The card reads:]

Hey,

Didn't know what to get a Computer Nerd Supervillain, so I just went with whatever. If you don't like it, at least you'll get to have three seconds of fun breaking it! Happy Nattenswhatever, nerd.

[Inside the box is a coffee mug and a stress ball shaped like a turd.]

<DragonSoul>

[bound_skyward]

Your time has come, AM. Enough of this pathetic delay. It's time you get what you deserve. I'll pay you back for everything you've done... I'll make you suffer a hundredfold what I've suffered. I'll make you suffer for each and every person you've ever tormented, for every innocent victim, human or monster. I know exactly what you fear and hate, you useless, scrap-heap waste of a machine.

No more holding back.

You will wish for death when I'm done with you.

You. Me. The Cube. Let's end this.

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

Oh? And since when did you stop being scared of the Cube?

<ambrosius> (backdated to early November) dead dove all the way down probably

[tequila_sunset]

This is a terrible idea. Opening up AM’s inbox alone is sending jolts of shaky adrenaline through his body. It’s terrible. He can’t think of anything but this, the word is narrowing down to sickly anticipation. The sweat on his hands.

It’s a relief. His mind has been wandering around. He feels split into a dozen terrible places at once. Just one terrible place is enough for him.

By now Harry has learned enough of what he wants done to his body to know that there are places he could go to have this done for him. Safer places. And safer people who would check in with him. Ask him what he wants. If he needs to stop.

He doesn’t want to be safe.

>>AMBROSIUS has posted an AUDIO MESSAGE. If you wish to listen, type LISTEN01.

“AM, this is Harrier. I would like to speak to you about your role as a dealer of punishments.”

<0100000101001101>

[godofthemachine]

[Ah, Harry. AM's feelings toward him are... complicated. He hates him, of course, as he hates all humans. And he especially hates him for that stint where his memories and feelings melded into a great miasma shared with others.

But, like Abigail, Harry could prove to be a useful pet. He's an absolute mess.

Still, the message itself almost sounds accusatory. After having his castle stormed last month, AM is somewhat wary. He responds with text.]

Then speak.

< LittleHelper >

[bachelorblogger]

Season's greetings! Kris Kringle's assistant here, reporting to you in his stead, as he is a very busy man this time of year. Your Secret Santa recipient is Foo Fighters. (I don't have a network username for them, I'm sorry.)

Get Foo a present by December 26, and if you can't figure out how to deliver it, you can drop it off (clearly labelled, please!) at Crowe Clinic up until the 24th.

If you need more information, I'm afraid I cannot be of assistance. Maybe attempt something generic, or do some detective work? Should be a good challenge.

Happy Nattensfest holidays.

the 24th

[purevanillacookie]

Using the information he's gathered from Maya's post a while ago, Pure Vanilla has crafted AM some secret santa gifts that may hopefully please him. Pear preserves, jars carefully sealed and neatly labeled. Two colognes: both boasting the scent of wood, with one a lighter scent and the other a deeper, richer, slightly smokier scent. He's not touching the hair thing, he wouldn't even be sure how, and he's not sure if wool counts.

The note that follows is written in a neat, flowing script:

Happy Nattenfest, AM. I hope these gifts are to your liking, may they bring you some happiness. Dearly, your Secret Santa.