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[Nov. 27th, 2019|10:45 pm] peace_keeper [ Tags | cal bishop, npc: fyodor grishin ] As liaison Cal spent more time in Peter than he did in Moscow, much to McRoy's dismay. As long as the colonel still took missions from time to time, nobody had any right to say anything. The Soldiers in Rose City weren't half as useless as the rest of the Council considered them to be. If anything Cal would say they were the smartest of them all, accepting a post out here where living was almost easy. Cal remained careful, not because anyone out here in Peter cared but because old habits died hard, and Council indoctrination was immortal. In the end it was General Smoke who took him aside, bought him a drink, and gently nudged Bishop to consider the options for The Future. Of course he could just be content with his current rank and reputation, but was it wise to choose stagnation over promotion? "I'm not trying to tell you what to do." "But?" "But it would be remiss of a man in your position to not give it some thought." "What kind of man would that be, General?" "A man with something to lose." Grishin had a point. Cal would give him that. But in order to protect the something he had to lose, Cal would have to actually lose the something he wanted to keep safe. He could almost feel the disapproving gaze of his father boring into the back of his head as he climbed into bed and wrapped an arm around David's sleeping form. It was a lose-lose situation. But it always was so Cal was at least used to that. Holding still it was then. For a little longer at least. Until he could make up his mind or have his brains blown out by some ambitious young Council hound. Whichever came first... Link Leave a comment

[Message] [Sep. 17th, 2017|02:54 am] dirty_dog [ Tags | mikhail kozlov, npc: antonio luca, npc: velimir sakharov ] It wasn't cowardice that had Velimir resort to this. It was the fact that his brother didn't speak to him unless it was Cartel business. To expect Tosha to answer the phone when his little brother called was delusional. [Messages delivered to Tony and Misha] Tell Voss his son dead. Council has body. Link Leave a comment

[Sep. 17th, 2017|02:11 am] peace_keeper [ Tags | cal bishop, npc: vanya dmitriyev, npc: velimir sakharov, rada kapustova ] Rectum, similar to the Brown Bear, was a mostly Council-free zone - or perhaps Council-protected was more accurate, considering how many Soldiers could be found on the premises all the time. As such it should be safe there and it was for all the Soldiers. The rest was as vulnerable as it was on the streets. Law-free. That might be the right word to describe Rectum. Most incidents never made it on record. The owners and the culprits worked together to cover up whatever atrocity took place, and it wasn't as if anybody cared about the death of sex workers anyway. Somebody cared about this one though. Somebody cared enough to call in the death in the backroom. The crowd thinned considerably when Colonel Bishop entered with a handful of men in tow, crossing the distance between entrance and backroom in purposeful long strides. Although his gaze never strayed, Cal did take note of the faces sticking out from uniforms, trusting his subordinates to do the same. If this was going to be something bigger, they would make sure every single Soldier who'd stood by doing nothing would be pulled in for 'questioning'. From the corner of his eye, he saw Velimir and Rada at the bar, watching him, their gazes strangely devoid of hostility but weighed down with something else. If Cal had to describe it, he'd probably call it guilt mixed with despair? The closer they got to the backroom, the stickier and more slippery the floor turned - not something anybody would want to think about too long but that thought stayed in the back of the Soldiers' minds, nagging. In one of the dim rooms, they finally found the cooling body of a man. Early thirties perhaps, dark blond hair, blue eyes wide open and staring into eternity. There were multiple signs of trauma to be found on the naked body, blood smeared between his legs, drying and dried blood on his lips and nose. (Death by strangulation sounds better than 'fucked to death' so that's what the report will state later. There is a rope tied around the dead prostitute's neck and it has left a bruise behind, or bruises in various stages rather as the pathologist elaborates even tough nobody's asked. Seems as if that poor kid has been in that room for days, perhaps weeks.) Cal looked at the face and felt his heart grow heavy. He wasn't a stranger to dead bodies or tragic deaths but he recognised this face even under the bruises and the blood - the sad-eyed hooker with the missing fingers, Kane Frost's friend, who'd come and begged the Council to kill him. Perhaps they should have. Ivan Dmitriyev had gone through several levels of hell before he died in this shithole tonight. Since nobody seemed to know what had happened - somebody just found him there - the Soldiers wrapped up their work as quickly as possible. None of the men with Bishop wanted to stay here longer than they had to. After the body was taken away, Cal paused by the bar, his flat hard Soldier gaze fixating on the two Cartel roses. No family? No next of kin? Were they sure? Unclaimed bodies ended up in the incinerators along with garbage. The Council would wait seven days. If the roses could think of anybody, would they please be so kind as to inform them of the passing of this young man? Much obliged. Link Leave a comment

[Mosaic] [May. 27th, 2017|11:42 pm] petit_peu [ Tags | [mosaic], audrey falcon ] Men are scum. Link Leave a comment

[May. 1st, 2017|11:39 pm] dirty_dog [ Tags | [phone], anton voss, mikhail kozlov ] After cheating death once again, the dirty bastard went to work, digging around to get the information Misha wanted. It wasn't the frog experiment - Anton wasn't joking when he said he'd run back to Kiev on foot if the freak amphibians were involved. The info he'd recovered wasn't about frogs. There were random notes about a project regarding flesh-eating plants drafted by the funny Asian boy at R&D. There were old shopping lists of both Germans - order forms from days past. And then a pile of information he'd handed over without checking them last year. He had kept copies, though. Flipping through them on this grand workers' holiday, the Russian learned more about certain people than he'd ever wanted to know. There were detailed notes about a terminated project from the 1970s. Detailed information about the artificial creation of enhanced humans. Detailed information about-] [Phone call to Misha, secure line] Oi, I need appointment with memory wipe. Link 10 comments|Leave a comment

[Apr. 30th, 2017|11:48 pm] treasury [ Tags | faolán o'connor, maximilian falcon ] Despite his public image, Max Falcon wasn't nearly as careless and oblivious as many people thought him to be. There was very little that he didn't know. He might not always care, but as a general rule it was safe to say that this Falcon knew very well what went on under any one of his roofs. Max Falcon had beaten the competition and become old Falcon's successor after all. The blind spot he'd reserved for family had been erased ever since he found out about his sister and Andrew. William had always told him to quit being so sentimental about 'family' or else he'd regret it, and the old man had been right, hadn't he? Even though it annoyed Max to no end, he'd finally followed his father's advice and quit 'being so sentimental'. It wasn't as if he got into their business all the time. What mattered was that he could if he wanted to, and that he wouldn't be blindsided by any of their antics again. Once the immediate family issues had been dealt with, Max had gone through the pile of notifications he'd received from the ADJUTANT regarding his business ventures. Although he hadn't actively been looking for anything - just following a hunch - he flagged with sleepwalking certainty a handful of messages that would be worthy of following up on. One of them was located at Atom. Apparently one of the employees was making a bit of money on the side. Not a problem at all since Atom was just one of the fun projects, somewhere to take business partners to relax. However, digging a bit deeper into this 'Southerner's' background revealed a small gem buried under that badly bleached hair and coarse accent. Never one to waste an opportunity to play, Max spent the better part of the evening letting himself be entertained before he gravitated towards the bar, looking slightly dishevelled and wearing the mask of a happy drunk when he waved at Feliks. "Feliks, darling boy, fix us another one of your magic potions, will ya?" Link 10 comments|Leave a comment

[Text] [Apr. 30th, 2017|10:44 pm] tres_chic [ Tags | [text], dmitri petrovsky, npc: marcello melloni ] [Text to Dmitri] >> Dear Uncle Mitya >> I'm sorry to bother you in the middle of the day. >> But mother is being very unreasonable with regards to the sleepover at my friend's home. >> My argument that since she would be at the ball with you, my presence at home is absolutely not required was considered invalid. >> I would really like to stay at my friend's place. >> His parents are both well-respected members of Peter society, and his father works at your company. >> Can you please talk to her? >> Mona can't convince her, either, and I really don't know who else to ask. Link 10 comments|Leave a comment

[Apr. 30th, 2017|09:26 pm] peace_keeper [ Tags | [text], cal bishop, david riedmaier ] [Text to David] >> Made it back early. >> Dinner still on? >> By the way, the pixel girl seems to think I'm attending some kind of May ball with you tomorrow. >> Did I miss a memo? >> I thought we were going to be lazy unless the Rebels bomb the shit out of Moscow. Link 8 comments|Leave a comment

[Feb. 14th, 2017|12:25 am] corpus_vile [ Tags | katharina valentin, mikhail kozlov ] [ Current Mood | day fourteen ] It had been a miserable winter so far, but on her birthday it didn't seem all that bad. The lovers who had plans for this evening could rejoice, or breathe a sigh of relief. But the only lover that mattered to him was the woman with the unkempt head of after-sex hair resting on his bare chest. Despite how she felt about getting older, he never thought of her as anything less than beautiful. She loves the way he does that. The way he can stir life into all the snowglobes that Mr. Dennis gave her every year without having to even touch them. By the time she first met him he'd already been so proficient with his ability, she never thought about his gift from the German gods as being something that hadn't come to him effortlessly. So when he casually remarks that it took him years of getting harassed by stuck-up rich kids before he could move water in a bowl, she lifts her head from his chest in surprise, and he finds himself half-wondering if he said something wrong. "What? What I say?" She shook her head and smiled. "Sometimes I forget you're one of us." "Hm. When you get old you start forget everything." She slaps his chest and laughs as the situation escalates in their bed. They're young again, madly in love, getting entangled while wrestling in the sheets in a world without William. And the snowfall trickles to a stop. Link Leave a comment

[Feb. 4th, 2017|10:11 pm] in_cognitus [ Tags | anton voss, npc: antonio luca, npc: gabriel luca ] [ Current Mood | day four ] "Did he ever blame me?" The boy who had cost them a few lives already just to keep alive looked pensive, guilty - even slightly ashamed. He never wanted for this to happen to Anton - never asked to be born into this role, never wanted to be anyone important, anyone worth dying for. And even after uncle Voss systematically denied that his current predicament was not Gabriel's fault, he still blamed himself for this. This and other things that he's been carrying on his shoulders, evidently. "Maybe this is talk you should have with your father," Anton said, though it sounded more like a question than a suggestion. He was there to bear the brunt of the newly widowed man's grief, but he didn't know how to answer that question. "He'll just say no and ask me what's wrong." Gabriel sighed and tilted his head back, looking at the ceiling as if it had answers to all his questions. "He not blame you for anything. You his son. But maybe he blame himself, not there in time." "'I'm his son' isn't an explanation for anything." "You his son is explanation for everything." Link Leave a comment

[Nov. 5th, 2016|11:06 am] wantyougone [ Tags | npc: gregor von qualen ] 'Remember, remember...' The fifth of November, once commemorated as Guy Fawkes Day, held a very different meaning in the new world which was the only world humanity had left. Thirty years ago, on this very day, a 'situation' in the South nearly went up in flames with a bang a powder keg would cause had not a young Major with a handful of men single-handedly crushed the blossoming rebellion - and thus established himself as unofficial ruler of that part of the world - and today was to be the day the government wanted to honour this brave soldier. Only the brave soldier was nowhere to be seen. His men, loyal to the General only, claimed not to know where their superior had gone. The uniform was laid out on the bed, untouched. In Moscow swarms of low-rank soldiers sweep the city in search of the General from the South. Meanwhile in the North, an elderly man, dressed elegantly in a slate-grey suit with a matching blue-grey tie, sat at a table of a street café, a cup of tea cooling in the autumn air, his cool blue eyes gazing at the people rushing up and down the street with mild distaste. He rarely came to the North yet, strangely enough, Gregor van Qualen, the tyrant of the South, did not seem out of place at all. Across the street, he spotted two young men whom he assumed to be Cartel boys. They tried to be discreet but they were trying a little bit too hard. Or perhaps they still had too much cub inside them to fool an old lion like Gregor. Ignoring the Cartel boys for the time being, he returned his attention to the Peter folks. So this is where her boy had chosen to live. Poor boy. Link Leave a comment

[Aug. 14th, 2016|09:50 am] treasury [ Tags | maximilian falcon ] One of St Petersburg's most eligible bachelors has been causing quite a stir lately. For the fifth time in a row, Max Falcon has been seen going out with the same woman. Who is that mystery brunette on his arm? Nobody has ever seen her face before. She just appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and if the little gossip mongers are reading the signs correctly, she might just succeed in snatching Max Falcon from the market, and break a million hearts. Who is she?! +++ Max was aware of the fuss the society pages and gossip rags - Aislin's filth - were making about him and the woman. His assistant kept drawing his attention to 'the press' in the most passive-aggressive manner Max had ever been subjected to; Audrey kept messaging him, asking about the latest rumours, and he kept telling the darling daughter to stop reading that nonsense. The simple and banal truth was that the woman was nothing special. She'd just been there when Max looked, and he'd liked what he was seeing. Big dark eyes, a warm sensual smile on a pretty face which, surprising, was closer to his age than his daughter's. One could call it dating perhaps, though neither one of them - she was smart like that - expected this to lead anywhere. He wanted to relax after finishing the restructuring of his department, and she was perfect for just that, nothing more, nothing less. The Falcon still kept his distance from the redhead. He'd taken her Petrovsky Prince out to play as promised but they hadn't seen much of each other after that night out. In fact, he was keeping his distance from almost everyone at Tetragrammaton. He came to work, sure, but his free time was spent with strangers, and some weekends nobody knew where the Falcon had gone - as if he'd vanished from the face of the earth. Link Leave a comment

[Aug. 13th, 2016|12:16 am] tres_chic [ Tags | dmitri petrovsky, giulietta melloni ] Marcello was away for the summer holidays, spending time with his grandparents in the countryside and the aunts and cousins who still lived there. No, it hadn't been Giulietta's idea and it had taken a lot of convincing from her mother and Mona as well. Just because she abhorred her home village didn't mean that her little boy would hate it, too. Being away from the city would do the young man good, especially now since she'd fallen into bed with one of those upper-class rich boys (again nobody dared say out loud). Unable to argue against two old women at the same time, the redhead had finally given in and sent her son off on a summer adventure. It was strange at first, not having the little lord around. Ever since he'd been born, Giulietta hadn't spent a single day without seeing and loving and fussing over her precious little darling every day. With Marcello gone, his mother suddenly found herself with a lot of extra time on her hands. Fortunately, there was another lord in her life now - not so little, but as equally deserving of being loved and fussed over as her son. Whether he minded or not was neither here nor there, really. Where else was she supposed to pour all that love and affection into if not Mitya? Judging from the peaceful look on his sleeping face and the soft snoring, he didn't seem to mind too terribly. She pressed a gentle kiss against his temple before she slipped out of bed to make coffee. No servants here at the Melloni residence where they'd been spending most nights the past couple of weeks. They were living in a small little bubble where they were two normal people with normal lives and awfully normal, almost boring morning and evening routines. One person's hell was another's paradise - wasn't that how the saying goes? Link Leave a comment

[Aug. 11th, 2016|08:09 pm] peace_keeper [ Tags | cal bishop, david riedmaier ] "I thought I saw Sarah the other day." It came out of the blue. Even Cal was surprised about that sentence coming out of his mouth. But there were all the things they didn't (couldn't) talk about, and then there was something like this. Surprising. Out of the blue. Still better than asking 'where have you been' without really asking and wanting to know but not really. They had had some trouble lately, the Soldier boys. Down South several of them had been targeted which wasn't unusual, but their families had been targeted as well. It had been troubling to the boys in Moscow. The General in the South, however, had remained unmoved as always, so the capital had not taken any action. It was just the South, after all. "Out of the corner of my eye, there, someone who looked so much like her, it was creepy almost." He didn't know why he kept talking about it. It was so stupid, talking about a teenage-love which hadn't even lasted that long. But ever since he'd interrogated that sad-eyed hooker with missing fingers, who'd come to the Council, begging to be taken out the back and shot, Kane Frost's friend, Cal had been in a strange mood - two parts contemplation, one part melancholy perhaps. No, no, surely, he lacked the introspection and depth for that. Just plain nostalgia, then? "Like seeing a ghost, you know?" Link Leave a comment

[Aug. 11th, 2016|04:54 pm] dirty_dog [ Tags | anton voss, mikhail kozlov ] [Backdated to mid-July] Reanimation. Recuperation. Regrowing tissue. Regrouping clusters of cells. It takes time, that tedious process of living, of staying alive. Ever since he's been a three-pint tall brat, Anton has been a difficult patient, someone with a strong aversion of being touched against his will. And who could blame him, really? It was a miracle he'd grown into this man, Roman's boy who'd entertained the thought of suicide at an age when most children had no idea what dying meant. Don't touch me. Go away. I'm fine. Don't touch me. It's just a scratch. Don't touch me. Just let me die. Don't. Touch. Me. Back when they were young, Tony had talked sense into his dog. When they were older, the dog had held his master, preventing utter destruction caused by the grief-stricken man. The dog is old now. He'd saved his master's boy - he remembered Gabriel's panicked voice - and wouldn't mind closing his eyes forever. Surely, he'd earned it by now? But no. That was the terrified and hurting little boy speaking, the one who was always hiding in the dark corners of Anton's mind, weeping still, begging not to be touched after all these years. A quiet and familiar voice pulls the Russian from the twisted merry-go-around that is his mind. English, very soft, speaking of battles and imminent deaths of innocents. So the dog shakes off the fatigue and drags his battered body in front of the éminence grise within these cursed walls of the accursed ivory tower, and slumps down in one of the chairs, and gazes upon him, the blue-eyed devil with a heart made of ice, with weary bloodshot eyes. "Call it off." There was no need to define 'it'. Anton knew Misha knew what he was talking about. And talking was exhausting. "Nobody died, we're all still here. Call it off, brother, and let's have a glass of moonshine." Link 7 comments|Leave a comment

[Jun. 29th, 2016|12:09 am] corpus_vile [ Tags | [e-mail], dmitri petrovsky, maximilian falcon, mikhail kozlov, npc: conrad waßer, npc: george dennis, npc: nikolai tarasov ] The following mission is disseminated to a select number of Extractors and Alumni. Judging from the tone and the choice of Russian words used, it's clearly not from Dmitri Petrovsky. And it may very well be the case that Dmitri doesn't even know about this. "I want to know who tried to kill Gabriel Luca. I want to know who shot Anton Romanovich Voss. I want to know every single personnel involved in planning and executing the operation. I want their severed heads, I want their wives' heads, I want their parents' heads, I want their children's heads. Burn every Council office to cinders and ashes if that's what it takes. Nobody comes out of this alive." [E-mail to management] Mark just called. Confirmed Gabriel still alive. How did no one see this coming Suggest he go back Rebel space. Sound stupid for saying but is safer. Link 13 comments|Leave a comment

[Jun. 19th, 2016|03:23 am] risano [ Tags | [text], david riedmaier, thomas prince ] The good doctor was almost home when he was called back. Three simple words and all the grudges and hurt feelings evaporated. Three simple words and Thomas felt the world tilt under his feet, felt his past slide away, twenty years on the brink of disappearing, slipping through his fingers like sand. The driver took Dr Prince back to Tetragrammaton as fast as possible. Before Thomas got out, he passed those three words on. [Text to David] Anton was shot. Link 7 comments|Leave a comment

[Jun. 18th, 2016|01:01 pm] dirty_dog [ Tags | anton voss, npc: vanya dmitriyev, npc: velimir sakharov ] Anton He wasn't thinking and this was not the beginning of a hilarious story. This was the result of early indoctrination, of hours and hours of drilling that lesson into a stubborn boy's head, of carving it into his bones: Protect the Luca. The bullets weren't allowed to simply pass through him because he was the only thing standing between those bullets and Antonio Luca's son. So Anton didn't think. He just did what he'd been raised to do. Protect the Luca. The last thing he remembered was searing pain tearing through his stomach and Tony's boy yelling at him. +++ Velimir A call in the middle of the night. Caller ID: St Petersburg area. Not half a minute later, Velimir was out the door, on his way to catching a train to the Ivory City. They may not be close but Anton was still blood, the only Family Roman Voss' bastard son had left in the world. If Anton died before Velimir arrived, he would be so pissed off. +++ Vanya "Please don't." Link Leave a comment

[Jun. 16th, 2016|06:33 pm] treasury [ Tags | giulietta melloni, maximilian falcon ] Mr Falcon entered the building through the main entrance mid-morning. Unusual for him, the time and manner of coming to work. It wasn't often that the mere mortals in the foyer would catch a glimpse of the gods residing on the executive level. But this was definitely Mr Falcon, striding across the polished floor towards the private lift. He didn't have to wait, didn't have to look where he was going, trusting the path in front of him to be absolutely obstacle-free. The ADJUTANT made sure that the lift doors opened for Max at the perfect time and closed behind him timed just as perfectly. Browsing through this morning's news and e-mails, Max didn't pay much attention to the ride up to his office, didn't bother looking if he was on the right floor when the doors opened because this lift didn't stop until he had reached his destination. Not today, though. Today, it stopped to let somebody else enter: Giulietta. Max suppressed the frown before it could crease his forehead. Of course she had access to this lift, had had it even before the Christmas party. He managed a tight smile and a polite 'morning' before he returned his attention to his phone, determined to not engage the redhead in any way. Of course she had other ideas. The lift was stopped in mid-rise and he heard her say his name. Funny how she didn't sound irritated or annoyed at him at all. He would say she sounded normal, perhaps a little uncertain? When he didn't immediately react, she said his name again, and this time there definitely was uncertainty in her tone. "Yes?" he replied, without looking up. Giulietta wasn't used to this Max - the busy one, the silent one, the one who didn't look at her and didn't talk to her. They had barely talked at all since the Christmas party. Maximilian Falcon, who always, always found an excuse to spout nonsense at her, had barely acknowledged her existence, let alone gone out of his way to speak to her since that party. In the beginning, she hadn't noticed. Then she had noticed and not minded so much. Now, she was more than a little insulted and upset. They used to be lovers, they could still be friends, could they not? "Max, could you leave your phone for a minute and look at me?" "I'm rather busy, Giulietta." "Busy?" "Yes." "One. Minute. Max." There it was. The old familiar irritation. And now Max did let his frown appear, as he looked up from his phone to look at the face of the woman he used to love - still loved, would love until the day he died - but didn't like very much lately. "Well?" "Are we okay?" "What do you mean?" "Don't play dumb, Max. You know what I mean. Dmitri and I... I know you're close friends and since you and I used to... I just wanted to know if you and I are okay? You've been... distant lately." 'Distant'. But that was what she'd always wanted, wasn't it? For him to leave her alone. For him to stop chasing after her. For him to stop annoying her. Well, he had. And now she was complaining? The easy way would be to say that of course they were okay, and that he was happy for the lovey-dovey couple. As he looked at her, however, studied that beautiful face, he didn't feel like lying. "No, Giulietta, we are not okay." Max sounded calm. There was no anger or malice in his voice. "I have loved you since the first time I laid eyes on you, I was in love with you, and you knew it, and you used me for it, and that was fine by me. But this? You and Dmitri? This hurt. So no. We're not okay, and I'm not going to pretend that we are still friends because we never really were friends to begin with. Now, if you would be so kind as to get the lift moving again, I've got work to do." She didn't say anything for the rest of the ride but Max knew he'd hurt her, could feel it radiating off of her. Good. Link Leave a comment

[May. 16th, 2016|11:05 pm] invivo [ Tags | [cartel adjutant] ] [Backdated to May 9] It's День Победы, and apart from the fact that the majority of the workforce would not be in the office today, there should have been no other inconsistencies. But she sees Cal Bishop pacing anxiously outside an emergency room. Two healers were dispatched on the same millisecond the footage of David Riedmaier being shot was recorded, but their delayed ETA on a statutory holiday necessitated a more rudimentary form of healing to keep him alive. She's reviewed the footage over and over again, slowing it down, watching it from 4 different angles, playing it backwards, but she can't make sense of it. She told him about the sniper. His pupils dilated. But where she had explicitly directed and instructed him to point and shoot, he... lowered his gun. For an operative with a 98.7% compliance rating and 96.4% accuracy with short range firearms, how could it have happened? There was nothing wrong with his earpiece. Was there a communication breakdown? Could it be human error? Fleetingly she thinks to consult Dmitri Petrovsky. But she sees the man and Giulietta Melloni holding hands and dancing, and Nora Jones plays in the background, softly and yet too loudly for the microphone to pick up what he whispered to Giulietta to make her laugh. Clearly their level of intimacy has been augmented. His phone was on a setting that indicated he did not wish to be disturbed tonight. Then there was SYS_ADMIN. But she was lying in bed, with her left hand combing through Andrew's hair while he slept beside her and her right hand preoccupied with her phone, replying to Adrian's message. No one else she could consult was in the office. The last she saw of Misha was when Katharina led him inside their house by his tie, and the last she saw of Maximilian was another so-called 'Do Not Disturb' situation with his progeny. So she calculates and calculates, and when she finishes calculating she runs through the calculations again. The dissected footage is compressed and saved, as one of countless anomalies she has encountered. Some would say she is running through her in-built algorithms to filter out these moments in peoples' lives for a human operator to review, assess and action. Others would simply call it learning. Link Leave a comment

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