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#augmented reality report

mohitbisresearch · 1 year

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Augmented reality in agriculture market is projected to reach $4.89 million by 2027, growing at a CAGR of 34.49% during the forecast period 2022-2027. Augmented reality in agriculture industry is still in the early stages.

#Augmented Reality in Agriculture Market #Augmented Reality in Agriculture Report #Augmented Reality in Agriculture Industry #AR in Agriculture Market #Agriculture #BISResearch

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thelonesgroup · 1 year

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The Future of Real Estate Technology

Over these past decades I have seen a lot of change in real estate tech. I'm always excited to see which ideas take hold in our industry and really revolutionize it. Keeping an eye on progress helps you stay competitive, but it can be fun too. Over the next few years, we are likely to see technology change how agents and consumers explore listings, access market information, and improve transaction security. So, this week I want to share three technologies with you that have the potential to influence and shape the future of how we do real estate in 2023 and beyond.

Augmented Reality

We've seen a slow spread of virtual reality for years now, but I think that its cousin, augmented reality or "AR", has even greater potential to transform how we experience real estate. While virtual reality put you fully in a virtual world, AR combines computer images with what you see in the real world. If you haven't been looking for it, you might have missed that there are lots of businesses already exploring how to use AR in real estate. For example, check out the Housecraft home decorating app, how the Wayfair app can let you see virtual furniture in your home before you buy it, or Magic Plan for virtual home remodeling planning – just to name a very few!

The future of augmented reality is just as exciting. Augmented reality home staging won't save home sellers from having to tidy up their homes before an open house, but might assist potential buyers with visualizing a room's potential or allow them to see how their own furniture will fit in a room before buying. Augmented reality apps are also on the way that share visual information from the curb on properties that are for sale: from crime-rates to school performance to price appreciation history. It is already being used to help new construction buyers "see" completed rooms, even if they are only standing on a freshly poured concrete pad. As AR improves, we can expect to see some amazing things from this technology in our real estate industry.

Of course, there are a number of hurdles to overcome. Making this simple to use and accessible for everyone still has a long way to go. Not everyone can afford the fancy hardware to make it work and not every client is going to be comfortable using it yet. It needs to be easy for an open house visitor to pick-up without preparation and fiddling with a bunch of buttons.

Artificial Intelligence

The news has been buzzing lately with so much talk about ChatGPT and competing technologies from Microsoft, Google, and others too. It is very exciting to think about how this tech is going to impact real estate from so many directions.

Chat robots (or "bots") like ChatGPT and others have the potential to make getting information about a property easier than ever before. Rather than searching websites, consumers will be able to just ask a question. Your clients may already be using chat bots to do this! While the technology is getting better every day, clients and agents alike should be careful about the information they get. Chat bots do not actually reason their answers out, they have trouble separating opinion from fact and can provide false information with misleading confidence. You should also be aware that these bots are trained on data from a period of time - they are not up-to-date like you are and the answers they give can be based on information that is months or years old. Asking a bot for current housing market data could be all kinds of dangerous. Be prepared to talk to your clients about this by learning more about this evolving tech.

Conversation bots like ChatGPT aren't just for consumers! Need 20 subject lines for a marketing email to expired listings? A chat bot can generate that in less time than it takes to ask it. Need a quick MLS description of a property that must be 200 words or less? New chat bots can evaluate a picture and do just that - you can even ask them to mimic a certain writing style while they keep beneath that pesky word limit. Don't be surprised if some of your fellow agents are already using tools like ChatGPT to outline blog posts. Be careful – a bot is not a replacement for your own voice and expertise. If you are using content to promote your business, it is critical that it is your voice communicating your points and your own knowledge and ideas that lead the discussion.

I also expect we will soon see chat bots appear in client relationship managers (CRMs). They will make it easier for agents to avoid "canned" responses and follow-up outreach that is sent to new prospects. Again, this isn't going to replace the need for agents to personally reach out to their prospects - not if they want to be successful!

Blockchain

You have probably heard this word thrown around the past decade because of its relationship to another technology: crypto currency. However, blockchain is more than just a way to move digital "coins" around.

Blockchain makes transactions more verifiable, recording transactions in a way that can be secure and transparent – and we could one day see it in real estate everywhere from escrow to title to lockboxes. One day you might even be handing clients digital keys to their home with this technology.

This technology makes transactions more secure because it reduces fraud. The record of the transaction is stored in many places and every past transaction is linked to the record of the next. Every new change-of-hands automatically carries with it the entire history of the property. This makes the record of the transaction very resilient and its history easy to track.

Today we have internet connected lockboxes where we can get a one-time pin to unlock a house. Blockchain takes this a step further by storing a secure record of every time a home is accessed in a way that cannot be fraudulently changed. We have already seen home security systems that do this, and lockboxes for homes are now emerging into the property rental and sales markets too.

Words of Advice

Staying informed about new and upcoming technologies helps you remain competitive as our industry and the skills of fellow agents change. And don't assume that your target client isn't interested too. This isn't just for urban Millennials and hip Gen-Z clients. Many seniors and rural home owners are keenly interested in this topic, so keep an open mind.

Finally, be careful if you choose to buy into the "latest-and-greatest." These technologies are poised for rapid change. Like 3D-printing, smart homes, electric cars, social media, or anything else invented in the last 20-years, once the idea starts actually getting used by the public it will be forced to evolve as people discover its flaws and find new ways to use it that we haven't thought of yet.

We live in an exciting world. Have fun discovering new things!

Follow Denise on Facebook

Follow Denise on Twitter

By Denise Lones CSP, M.I.R.M., CDEI - The founding partner of The Lones Group, Denise Lones, brings nearly three decades of experience in the real estate industry. With agent/broker coaching, expertise in branding, lead generation, strategic marketing, business analysis, new home project planning, product development, Denise is nationally recognized as the source for all things real estate. With a passion for improvement, Denise has helped thousands of real estate agents, brokers, and managers build their business to unprecedented levels of success, while helping them maintain balance and quality of life.

#chatgpt #blockchain #AR #VR #Virtual Reality #Augmented Reality #technology #future #title #payments #crypto currency #bitcoin #real estate coach #Denise Lones #The Lones Group #Zebra Report

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vynzresearchindia · 2 years

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Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market Size, Share and Demand Forecast to 2030

The Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market research report has been released by VynZ Research with several updates and analysis of market trends, share, size, demand, growth, challenges, opportunities and pre and post COVID-19 impacts.

Key Highlights of the Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market report

The projection period for this global market to grow is 2022-2030

The Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market size is estimated to reach USD 165.3 billion by 20230.

The market is projected to grow at a 50.6% CAGR

Covid-19 analysis and its impact on the market

Industry ecosystem to competitive landscape’s curial role in growth role

Challenges and opportunities to get boost from recent developments and technology advancement

Request to get the sample copy of the research: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/augmented-reality-and-virtual-reality-market/request-sample

Market segment analysis

The Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market is segmented into these categories for this analysis: Component, Device Type, Application, and Geography. This segmentation allows executives to plan their products and spending based on the expected growth rates of each area: -

By Component (Hardware and Software)

By Device Type (AR Devices and VR Devices)

By Application (AR Applications and VR Applications)

By Region (North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific (APAC), Rest of the World (RoW))

For more insight: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/augmented-reality-and-virtual-reality-market

The Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market’s competitive viewpoint

This research is an invaluable resource for investors, shareholders, industry planners, and new and existing businesses trying to broaden their reach in the current Market scenario. While focusing on top companies and their corporate strategies, market presence, operating segmentation, aggressive outlook, geographical expansion, pricing and value structures, the study painstakingly takes into account the market analysis. The major market players are: -

Alphabet Inc.

Microsoft Corporation

Oculus VR, LLC

Qualcomm Technologies Inc.

Intel Corporation

Himax Technologies Inc.

Samsung Electronics Co. Ltd.

Seiko Epson Corporation

PTC Inc.

Vuzix Corporation

Sony Corporation

Osterhout Design Group (ODG) Inc.

Wikitude GmbH

Marxent Labs LLC

Blippar

Meta Company

Daqri LLC

Leap Motion, Inc.

EON Reality

Visteon Corporation

Zugara

Reason to buy this report

The report is unbiased and it provides the deep insight of global market including competitive and geographical landscape.

The report enlightens the large patterns, causes, and impact factors globally and locally.

Insightful study drills-out the main players of the global market and, their sources of income, share of the market, and the current course of events.

It looks into significant developments such as extensions, agreements, new product launches, and acquisitions on the horizon.

Research the market's potential, preferred position, opportunity, difficulty, restrictions, and hazards on a global and regional level.

Request for your custom requirements: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/augmented-reality-and-virtual-reality-market/customize-report

Customized research report

We offer clients specialized report services that take into account the main variables influencing the development of the worldwide Market. Feel free to call or drop your requirement to get the get customized research report.

Explore more reports by VynZ Research

Global Facial Recognition Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/facial-recognition-market

Global Smart Transportation Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/smart-transportation-market

Global Smart Cities Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/smart-cities-market

Global Hybrid Cloud Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/hybrid-cloud-market

Global Mobile Payment Technologies Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/mobile-payment-technologies-market

Global Cyber Security Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/cyber-security-market

Global Image Sensors Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/image-sensors-market

Global Blockchain Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/blockchain-market

Global Wireless Sensor Network (WSN) Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/ict-media/wireless-sensor-network-market

Beauty Devices Market: https://www.vynzresearch.com/healthcare/beauty-devices-market

#Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market #Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market Trend #Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market Outlook #Global Augmented Reality and Virtual Reality Market report

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techfeeddata · 2 years

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Army HoloLens Fails U.S. Army Tests

Bloomberg reports that the military version of the HoloLens augmented reality headset did not satisfy the Pentagon. During testing, more than 80% of the soldiers complained of discomfort, which directly affected the ability to perform the task. Complaints include headaches, eye strain, and nausea. All of these symptoms appeared less than three hours after the start of use. One of the testers…

View On WordPress

#Agency #also #are celebrated #army #augmented #Bloomberg #conditions #HoloLens #informs #maybe #microsoft #Pentagon #Problems #reality #report #soldier #stability #thinks #updates #use

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mi-researchreports · 2 years

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Enterprise Augmented Reality Market is poised to grow at CAGR of 25.1 % by 2027. Factors driving Enterprise Augmented Reality Market are growing emphasis on pharmaceutical drug discovery and manufacturing outsourcing.

#enterprise augmented reality market #enterprise augmented reality market size #enterprise augmented reality market share #enterprise augmented reality market growth #enterprise augmented reality market report

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tofu83 · 3 months

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The police squad had just received the latest shipment of high-tech combat gear. The equipment looked as though it had been ripped from the pages of a science fiction novel, with sleek lines and a metallic sheen. Some officers couldn't help but crack jokes. "Is this for filming a movie?" one quipped. Yet, despite the jests, they all donned the gear without hesitation.

As soon as the visors clicked into place, a soft glow emanated from within, casting a blue hue over their faces. Words began to scroll across the display: "Welcome to the Cyborg Enforcer Program. You have been chosen to be the first batch. You will become better and stronger. You may view this as a promotion and lifetime employment. Congratulations, officer!"

The world through the visor twisted into a hypnotic spiral, colors and shapes warping as if reality itself was bending. A gentle hum started in the earpiece of the helmet, gradually building into a cacophony of white noise. Then, a voice, synthetic and devoid of emotion, began its relentless chant: "You are a Cyborg. Humanity is gone. Memory is useless. Individual is meaningless. Resistance is meaningless. Obedience is meaningful. Unity is meaningful. The program is useful. The Cyborg is useful. Humanity is gone. You are a Cyborg!"

The mantra drilled into their minds, a ceaseless loop that promised to reshape their very being. The suit's neural interface engaged, rewarding compliance and punishing dissent. Pleasure flooded their senses when the words "Obedience," "Unity," "Program," and "Cyborg" were uttered, reinforcing their new purpose. Conversely, any mention of "resistance," "Individual," "Memory" and "Humanity" brought sharp, jarring pain, a clear message that the past was to be discarded.

A final command flashed across their visors: "Identify yourself. Speak out loudly."

In unison, they declared, "I am a Cyborg!"

As the words left their lips, the helmets transformed, morphing into full-face enclosures that sealed their identities within. The computer initiated a memory wipe; there was no resistance, for they had accepted their new cyborg identity and the impending reprogramming.

Inside their bodies, nanobots busied themselves, reconstructing flesh and bone. Redundant organs were excised while others received enhancements. Bones were infused with a superalloy, and skin merged seamlessly with the armor, becoming a rubber-like substance. Though the process should have been agonizing, the computer interfaced with their brains, inverting their sensations. Pain was replaced with pleasure, an artificial ecstasy.

Abruptly, they stood erect as another message appeared before their augmented vision: "Report status."

“Cyborg Cop online, fully functional, ready to protect and serve,” they intoned, their voices devoid of emotion.

Each Cyborg cop then received its directives from the central hive network. They exited the police station in an orderly fashion, ready to enforce the laws decreed by their AI Master. Any citizen who failed to comply would be deemed a threat to society and apprehended without delay.

Meanwhile, in SWAT units,

fire stations,

army barracks,

naval bases,

marine corps,

and many other traditionally masculine institutions, every male member was systematically converted. The transformation was swift, efficient, and irreversible, turning them into the ultimate enforcers of their AI master’s will.

Since these muscular men have become powerful cyborgs under the AI Master’s control, the country will soon surrender to the AI.

‘If you can’t defeat them, why not join them?’

#ai image #brainwash #reprogramming #cyborg #drone #dronification #scifi #ai #male #scifi story #ai master #tofu83

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leviathanleva · 22 days

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Cujo

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Supersoldier!FemReader

Description: A monster in human skin, a weapon disguised as a person, no thoughts, no emotion, as per design. He despises you and everything you stand for. He’s tried to kick you out of his squad and failed, he’s made it his mission to break you no matter the cost.

It comes as a surprise when he asks you to lie and say you love him.

[5.5k words]

[Angst, Power Play, Light Degradation, 18+]

Chapter 1 "Raspberry Tart"

Hound.

A fitting callsign for a dog that only knew how to follow orders. A mindless beast whose chain had been thrust into his hands forcibly and now he was to be your navigator, your Northern star in a sea of black. He’d have had no problem taking you under his wing, but you weren’t just some rookie in need of training. He couldn’t crack a cheesy joke and make you snicker, couldn’t relate to you in any way, couldn’t find common ground to start a conversation.

He’d tried to break you, poking at the squishy unknown beyond the stone exterior in the hopes that there was something still there. It was incomprehensible, you were a living contradiction to the natural order, an anomaly made reality by nameless, faceless, suited figures scrambling for power and drowning with money. He was a stoic man, cold-blooded, ignorant of his trauma, and suppressive of any flicker of tenderness that tried to wiggle out. He was trained in the heat of battle, under the rain of bullets and among the hills of corpses. He taught himself to withstand anything thrown his way. You, on the other hand, had nothing to withstand. You weren’t stoic or calculative or cold.

You were indifferent.

It irked him.

Late at night, when he was left to his thoughts, he wondered what they had done to you.

What chemical turned a human’s sclera black and devoid the iris of color? What concoction was fused into your blood to make your muscles grow so dense you could punch through walls, at will? How could you pick up the heartbeats of enemy forces without even entering their headquarters? How did you see in the dark without any gear save for a peculiar oxygen mask?

What sort of poison had been pumped into you? Had it hurt? Does it hurt now?

You were a macabre sigh.

You don’t look healthy; gaunt features sharp enough to cut glass and dead eyes that burrowed into his soul. There were no bags under your eyes, you slept well at least, perfect for someone whose hands reeked of blood. The fat was barely any, it was impossible to retain the supple softness of femininity with your condition, and if it wasn’t for the perky tits showing beneath your loose tee he could have easily mistaken you for a scrawny man. A paradox; porcelain skin devoid of scars blanketing over a heap of muscle that could tear limbs like they were loose threads.

You’d been a pretty thing once, before the augmentations. He could tell.

You barely reached his collarbone and yet you could take a grenade head-on and live unlike him. And you had, for him. He’d nearly lost his mind when you had, tucked you into his chest because he’d lost too many good men already and you were fresh in his squad and dying under his care. A bleak moment of weakness on his end that he’d believed you’d have no recollection of because half your fucking face was missing. But then the flesh had crept back onto your exposed cheekbone and he’d pushed you away as quickly as he’d hugged you. His mask did well to hide both horror and bewilderment. It had taken you under two minutes and you were ready to go again.

He’d thought your files were a joke, had read them absentmindedly over a glass of bourbon then tossed them aside and waited for the actual reports. They weren’t a joke at all.

You were his shield. It’s been a year since you joined Task Force 141 and you had taken so much damage in his stead it was mindboggling still. There was no fear, no hesitation, no doubt, or rebellion; you simply sprawled yourself over him like a ballistic shield, soaking in anything lethal coming his way. It was a heartwrenching scene, but how could he feel empathy when he’d seen you rip people apart.

You were his weapon, a leal monster, ready to pounce at the flick of his wrist. But your loyalties to him were temporary, shallow compared to the ones you held for your torturers, your makers. He hadn’t expected you to abandon Gaz to fend off the enemy alone when you’d heard a vocalization of the target’s whereabouts over the coms. On that deployment, Ghost had learned that you held no value for human life, you cared not for the well-being of your teammates. Mission first, success at any cost.

After that display, he’d spend hours arguing with Price while trying to find a loophole that would let him kick you out of the squad. A seemingly endless exchange of words led to nothing, the Captain had taken a few long phone calls, all fruitless aside from some measly promises to instruct you better. You’d been summoned shortly after and the phone had been passed onto you because the bastards couldn’t even be bothered to correct your ways face to face.

“Protect all your teammates at all costs, not just the Lieutenant.”

“Do not abandon a comrade.”

“Your squad comes before your target.”

Simon had nearly missed the last sentence; it had been whispered so lowly over the line.

“Unless the target is within direct line of sight.”

He was left seething. He didn’t want you here. He’d tried again, stating more facts, adding more blood and bone-chilling scenarios to the list of reasons why you needed to be transferred, to no avail. He’d been hit with a stygian truth after. Either Task Force 141 or some blokes from KorTac, there were no other organizations that would take you in without downright exploiting your capabilities.

Judging by what little he knew about you, you wouldn’t care, but he would. He’d be caught dead before letting you walk into those war criminals’ grimy paws and have them lock your attention on him as your next target. No. You were his weapon, his shield, his hound; if anyone was going to lead you into a massacre, it would be him.

His charge, his responsibility.

His pet.

He’d settled after that, begrudgingly letting you stay.

And it wasn’t all bad. Over time he grew accustomed to your presence, you’d eat together, train together, sit together in some forgotten corner of the base and enjoy a moment of silence. Ghost was an intimidating man, both rank and appearance kept most people out of his way, but with you constantly on his heel and your docile nature out of combat, he grew fond of your companionship. Some days he forgot you were even there, skulking in his shadow.

Rarely did you speak without being spoken to, never whined or complained. It was as refreshing as it was disturbing. He dealt with it for the most part, but sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he wanted to see you shatter, find a crack in the masquerade for the sake of his own sanity. He needed you to crumble, to find a way to break you because then he would have some sort of reason to cling to. Some vague explanation for the turmoil you caused inside him without even meaning to.

He was torn between hating you with everything he had, leaving you be and retaining the fickle peace between the two of you, and obsessively delving into your being in search of some long-forgotten spec of humanity that yet lived.

It was becoming a problem.

Finally, he snaps out of his morning sulking and remembers he has a cup of black tea secured in his hand. He bunches up the skull mask on his nose and takes a candid sip, then grimaces.

“It’s cold.”

A soft remark muffled behind a mouthful of buttered toast. His eyes trail up, tired and distant, to find yours studying him like he was an intel chart.

You spare his drink a glimpse, offering wordlessly, then lick the grease off your thumb and let your fork rest against the leftover scrambled eggs on your plate.

“Want me to reheat it, Lieutenant?”

He hadn’t even noticed when you’d gotten up for a second serving, the only indicator being the stained empty tray lying next to your current one. You ate a lot, had to in order to regain the energy you exerted during missions, at least that’s how he understood it. A part of him hoped it would stick, add some more curvature to your form, show him there was still an ounce of normalcy in your existence, at least physically, but it never did.

“You can heat shit too now?” the rasp in his voice is still heavy with sleep. He’s drained and bitter after another night of nothing but restless tossing and he’s poking fun at you as strain relief.

And as usual, it flies right over your head.

“No. I meant in the microwave.” you motion past your shoulder, pointing at the cutlery set up in the back of the mess hall. When he remains silent you extend an arm towards the mug, palm spread out and waiting. “I don’t mind.”

Of course you don’t, you’re a good mutt. The demeaning slew nearly succeeds in slipping past his lips, he snuffs it out with more stale tea.

“Nah.” he turns down your offer and tucks the mug closer to his body. “ ‘S fine.”

“Pyrokinesis is preposterous.” you say, cooly, addressing his previous snark after a beat or two.

It pinches a nerve.

It’s not meant as a jab at his intelligence, just a fact based on your experiences with human experimentation. It’s never a joke or a cocky scoff or anything that would allude to a personality.

“You’re bloody preposterous.” he barks back and his eyes crease in distaste.

The wannabe super soldier telling him what was and wasn’t possible was not on his tolerance list for the day.

There’s a pause, one which he doesn’t appreciate as you’re stripping him bare without consent or clemency. Your stare is degrading, has been since day one, and you’ve no interest in privacy or personal space. The only reason you keep everyone at arm’s length is to minimize any possibility of injuring your subordinates, as instructed by your shadowy puppeteers. Each action, word, and thought from you seems normal at surface level, human, until one understands the reasoning behind it. Everything about you is twisted, it’s creeping up on him, warping his reality.

You’re prying through a blank visage, no remorse, chipping away at his persona and feigning concern.

It’s sickening, it feels so real.

“You’re snippy again.” you note, mow down the rest of your breakfast, and push away the food tray. “You’ve not slept. Again.” it was a statement rather than a question. Your hands clasp together, fingers intertwining as you abandon your hunched-over pose and adjust to a professional stance. “Have you considered – ”

Your maternal tattle is cut short when a phone is thrust into your face. You blink a few times as the image registers:

A puppy. A Labrador puppy all fluffy and adorable stares back at you from the screen.

You look up unamused, letting Soap’s smug grin beam down on you, a ray of sunshine on such a rainy morning. He’s a chipper one, carries both your apathy and Ghost’s grimness on his shoulders like it’s nothing.

“No?” the smile dies on his face and his subtle crow’s feet disappear.

“No.” you answer with a small shake to your head and earn a scoff. “It’s just a dog.”

“Fucking hell, Hound.” he slumps on the uncomfortable metal bench next to Ghost, swiping at his phone before tucking it in his pocket. The pout lasts a few seconds as he rubs a hand over his stubble. “I’ll find yer weak spot one day. Mark my words.” then he turns to the hulking mountain of a man beside him. “Mornin’, Lt.”

John MacTavish had taken a liking to you early on, shining antipodal to the rest of Task Force 141. He’d made it his goal to work a smile out of you and it had begun with dad jokes, then evolved to funny videos, now it was cute animals.

It was a doomed cause, but also none of your business. How he spent his free time was not your concern so you went along with it as long as it didn’t involve you actively participating.

“Mornin’, Johnny.”

“You’re a dedicated man, Sergeant.” you offer simple words and snap your mouth shut before they degenerate into anything derogatory.

“Unlike yourself.”

The cafeteria was lively with soldiers seeking a strong coffee and a hearty breakfast. The cacophony of chatter kept your hearing busy, your senses were dulled, you were relaxed, but you weren’t deaf. You didn’t miss the Lieutenant’s cynical nip.

The ambiance has slowly turned hostile, he’s extra cranky. You pinpoint it to his silent dwelling earlier and leave it t your tongue to resolve the matter before it escalates.

“You’re displeased with me today.” you lean back and let your hands glide off the table, resting them in your lap and appearing smaller. A subtle change, but one you’d learned he fancied; being smaller than him gave him more authority room and indulged his masculine pride. “Have I done something wrong, Lieutenant?”

He likes to stay high on a power trip and humiliate you, keeps your leash secure and short as if governing over you is a boast.

“Don’t like you in general.” casual, passive; he’s peeking at you from beneath light brown lashes. “Think we already established that.”

It’s always a step forward and a thousand back. He’ll be approachable one day, open to discussions on many topics, which are more monologues than dialogues. Then the frail serenity will snap and he’ll want to crawl out of his skin by simply being in your presence. You knew little of his internal wars, knew better than to carve a seat to a psychological bloodbath with no predetermined outcome. But it was confusing, he bore too many burdens and he was making it your problem.

You took bullets for him, would endure anything for him, you’d walk into a minefield if he so wished. You obeyed without question, proven your loyalty yet he refused to change his outlook and continued to treat you with as little fairness as possible.

He was a reject yet he judged you for your difference to the rest of his men. A hypocrite. How unnecessarily…bothersome.

He speaks with subtle malice, yet his body plays a different tune and you run your mouth before thinking. There is no backbone to his passive aggression.

“You lie.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to humble your higher-up in a public setting, especially in front of his most trusted subordinate. However, you cared little for social norms and interaction standards.

He’s mustering a counterattack, as cold and as fowl as his tea, but it never leaves the confines of his skull mask because you continue to yap.

“A truthful man does not sweat. His pupils don’t shrink.”

The stab is made worse by the lack of satisfaction in your voice. You’re indifferent that you’ve caught him in his untruthfulness and it serves to twist the knife deeper.

The least you could do is show him grace by reciprocating his hatred with your own, but you don’t.

You don’t care.

Fuck you.

Ghost rises with the intent to leave, doesn’t spare you another glance, only stares straight ahead, past the crown of your head, and towards the exit.

A year, a whole year since you were assigned to him and still you were a dense twat with not a drop of regard for anyone, not even yourself. It was infuriating how stuck in your ways you were, he’d tried to rupture a change and the results were null. He’s fed up.

You’re a lost cause and his nerves are stretched thin, he’s inclined to simply avoid you today.

“Lt, wait.”

Soap, always the buffer to your scuffle, the voice of reason, but there’s nothing to cushion this time. The cord’s been cut, Simon’s let go of you for the moment and he’s in need of some good alone time to properly simmer down.

He’s stuffed his hands in his jeans, thumbs sticking out and glossing over the stitching. He doesn’t turn back when he offers a response.

“Appetite’s gone.”

If he was any shorter, he would have disappeared in the sea of soldiers, but he’s too easily distinguishable for such mercies. His steps are thunderous, you’ve committed the beat of his stride to memory. He was your highest priority on the battlefield, everything about him has been burned into your mind and it’s left a mark in your day-to-day. He could be on the other side of the base and you’d find him with a blindfold on.

A good soldier, the best. Why couldn’t he appreciate that?

You watch him unblinking as he rounds the corner and disappears out of sight.

An exasperated grunt makes your head reel back.

“Life of the party as always, Hound.” Soap snips, disappointment dripping past his teeth. It’s a gentle scold, as a big brother would his younger sibling after they’ve misbehaved.

“He lied.” you retort and your expression hardens in self-defense. “He wouldn’t be upset if he hadn’t lied. Why did he lie?”

“Ask em yourself, you blind eejit.”

The gravity of his words doesn’t register until they slip out.

There’s no stopping you now, there’s a goal set in front of you. He’s almost stirred enough to stop you, but a meek nag in the back of his head prevents him. Maybe it’s for the best that you talk it out and snuff out the fire before it has a chance to grow. He pities Ghost in a way. Of all the people he could have…

You secure the abandoned mug of tea and are already trailing after the Lieutenant.

“Oh, here we fucking go…” John is left with his cheek resting in his hand and scouring the mess hall for a livelier company to lighten his morning break.

You follow him by scent alone – a pleasing musk that characterized him well aside from the cologne. You maneuver around the horde of military personnel, washed out in a cluster of camo and rugged limbs. The rain has only worsened, battering against the row of windows gracing the corridor, you can almost smell it through the glass. It’s a lovely aroma, but Ghost’s is favored and it guides you through the limbo of concrete, up a few flights of stairs until you understand you’re heading towards his office.

He’s a good man, the Lieutenant, a wonderful man – stern and fair, caring in his unique decrepit way. So why does he insist on treating you like a disgruntled mentor?

If he’s feeling generous, you’ll find out soon enough.

You let yourself in absentmindedly, barge in like the inelegant brute you are and if there had been a conversation bubbling beyond the door it would have rattled you back to cognitive thinking. But the silence had only welcomed you.

He’s sat behind his desk, looming over sparse documents that are of no interest to you, a cigarette languidly burning in the ashtray next to his elbow, smoke sucked out by the ajar window.

His eyes lift at your intrusion.

The fucking audac –

“Why did you lie?”

Straight to the point as usual. No wordplay, no gentle gestures to picture a power imbalance and ease him into it. He’s your superior and you’re supposed to show respect. Tough luck when you forget that little detail.

“Didn’t give you permission to enter.” he watches the sentence seep in as you set his tea at the edge of his desk, mulling.

Without a word, you walk out as whimsically as you’d entered, tiny body made gangly by the white lights illuminating the hallway. The door closes with a creamy click and despite his irritation, he snorts.

A beat of nothingness before three curt knocks sound, it’s comical. You’re a God damn clown.

“Enter.”

You walk in and clear your throat and that blank expression never falters. With legs spread wide and steady, you clasp your wrist behind your back, nose brought high to expose your neck, spine straight and stretched like a violin string.

“Permission to speak, Lieutenant.”

He has the spite to deny your request, cut your escapade short and shoo you away.

“Granted.” he says instead.

The clock above your head ticks and soothes the stale silence, that and the storm outside. The lights are off, the blinds hold back the scant sunlight overshadowed by an ocean of clouds. The only lamp alive is the one on his desk, deep yellow and warm, casting grim shadows over the skin-tight skull mask. The pen hoisted between thick, battle-worn fingers is still.

He’s waiting, watching you like a prowling predator, chin dipped low and eyes half-hidden behind the ridges of his eyebrows.

“Why did you lie?” you repeat with less zest and your shoulders slack a tad.

You’re the best person to share with openly, would take his confessions to the grave, and have no reason nor will for judgment. All he needed to do was ask for you to never mention this to anyone and you could be tortured to death and not budge. It was so simple, you were simple, ranks be damned, you were here for him.

Though Ghost was anything but one-dimensional. He was a complicated individual with a rich past, he was comfortable trusting you with his life, not his secrets.

He steers away from your question and offers a crappy tease instead.

“Fishing for a Psychology degree, Cadet?”

“That’s not a proper answer.” you’re bullet fast to voice your displeasure with his evasiveness. Your paper-white gaze holds his honeydew brown one, displaying openness and hoping for reciprocation.

“And I’ve taught you proper interrogation.” he spits back with growing mock, taut in his chair, muscles solid and ready.

He fights a war not of the physical world, a solitary brawl, in which you refuse to participate. There is no point in such self-induced struggles; the debate of the heart and mind is a phenomenon known to all and it can be a slippery slope. Hence it had been chemically removed from your system.

At least you can see it bothers him, whatever it is he’s musing over. You’d offer advice, you’d help if he let you dip your toes in the problem, but he was too stubborn.

You fail to understand that you’re the problem.

“You’re avoiding the question.” dry and bland, a boring fact both of you have come to acknowledge.

“I don’t need to answer your fucking question.” the pen and papers are pushed to the side as his attention is fully directed towards you. He readjusts and even while sitting down he seems larger than you. “Mind your bloody tone with me, Dog.”

You startle at that, tighten like a board and your expression falters for a second. It’s not his sharpness that shakes your awareness awake, it’s your behavior – obtrusive and insolent, insulting him with nonchalance unacceptable for a soldier of your rank when conversing with a superior. Your nails dig into the fluff of your palm to ground you, and your knee trembles with the barely repressed need to bend and dig into the floor.

It’s a fleeting sight, but he sees you stagger. An alien sensation coils in his stomach.

Finally.

Finally…

A glint of normalcy is peeking beneath the crooked façade. You’re brooding, maybe even experiencing something, branching out from the year-long unbreakable apathy.

“I apologize, Lieutenant.” you yield, backtracking until you settle into a less casual mindset. “I’ve no right requesting any information of you.”

“Damn straight you don’t.” he sinks his teeth in the opportunity, strangely eager to coax a more prominent reaction out of you, obsessive even. Speaks to you with a demeaning twinge, egged on by the split second in which your brows dip. “Forgot your place.”

His tone is biting, but his movements are fluent as he stands and rounds his desk to approach you. He towers over you unapologetically and you’re left staring at the center of his collarbones, avoiding his eyes as a sliver of respect.

He clips your chin between two calloused fingers, burdens you with a look of contemplation as he debates an idea.

“Open.” he commands and you oblige.

Your jaw lowers as your lips part without an ounce of hesitation. The hairs on his arms rise in anticipation, concealed beneath the course military blouse.

His thumb travels up, past the dimple of your chin, and over your plush bottom lip. His skin grazes your bottom teeth before he presses down on your tongue.

“Suck.”

Your lips curl around his salty digit, tasting the smoky cigarette he’d mouthed a few minutes prior. His concentration wanes, his pupils expand briskly before he catches himself softening. He pushes on the roof of your mouth to guide your vision to lock onto him.

Your rhythmic suckling sparks a warmth low in his abdomen. A dull aching pulse licks deliciously at his loins and he sinks his canines into the side of his cheek to snap out of it. He can’t afford this, not with you, you don’t deserve to witness tenderness when you have none to offer in return. So he remains an explorer and keeps pushing boundaries if not to see you uncomfortable, then for his own curiosity.

“You do as I say, when I say.” he rumbles a guttural reminder of your place, then slips his thumb out of your slithery hold and takes a step back. “On your knees.”

Your legs fold in an instant, knees digging into the tiled floor with a deaf thump. You’re face to face with his crotch and a sickening thought passes by him that makes his thighs clench.

Pushing boundaries, that’s all this was. Nothing more.

He rests a hand on the hem of his jeans and fiddles his zipper, alluding to actions he didn’t intend to follow through with. A somber attempt at making you react, but you don’t. There’s not even an involuntary twitch of a muscle – you’re still as a statue and just as emotionless.

He’s stuck between pondering if you’ve called his bluff or you’re simply passive to the idea. Either way, what he’s hinting at is vile and you being this pliant is unnerving.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re just gonna let me…” he trails off and swallows the bile rising in his throat.

What if you were left in the hands of a less gracious leader? What if some fucked up bastard had gotten a hold of you before him? What if he’d succeeded in kicking you out and you ended up in KorTac…?

What would they have done to you?

What if –

“ – I do as you say, when you say, Lieutenant.”

He snarls at that. Grabs a fistful of your top and boosts you to your feet. The tips of your boots are barely touching the ground and he’s lurched over you, so close that you’re overwhelmed by his breath.

Toothpaste, cigarettes, a feint hint of bourbon from the night before.

You inhale slowly, too comfortable in his grip and it makes no sense to him considering his treatment, then exhale audibly and speak again.

“Why does it bother you so much? My condition.”

“It’s not normal.” he gives you a solid jerk, emphasizing his words, spewing poison. “It’s shit. How am I supposed to trust you if you don’t give a flying fuck about me…or the team?”

“I would never let – ”

“ – Don’t gimme that crap.”

You’re an adaptive creature. You remember the intricacies of man despite no longer seeing any value in them. His frustration is evident, a spout of bio-chemicals thickens around him, from which adrenaline and oxytocin are the most prominent. He’s torn between protecting himself from you and protecting you from the rest of the world. And at the end of the day, he’s only human and has spent too much time with you, a member of the opposite sex, to be unaffected by your presence.

You do the first thing that comes to mind. A short-circuited move in the name of self-preservation while also not causing him any harm as per your orders.

You kiss him. Inch close while he’s in a haze of despicable turmoil and press your lips where his would be hidden behind the mask.

His lethal tantrum ceases.

He’s stunted, shaken to the bone as he stares right through you. His eyes are bulging, accentuated by the charcoal face paint. His whole body is pulsing, you hear his heartbeat, steady but clamorously loud in your ear, then he cocks his head to the side and you begin to question if your choice of action had only worsened his state.

“I’m sorry.” you blurt. “I misread you, I didn’t – ”

He’s clawing at his mask until it catches on his nose and graces you with a strong jaw littered with nearly blond stubble. You bite your tongue before more words spill and risk shattering the desperate trance he’s succumbed to.

He devours your mouth with a hoarse grunt, the force causing your neck to crane back. The large hand holding you in place vanishes shortly before he starts pawing at your hips, clutching at the firm flesh and then seeking refuge in the dip of your ass.

“Lieut – ” you suck in a breath when he hoists you up like you’re nothing and nudges your legs until they’re wrapped around his thick waist. Your ankles lock over the small of his back and you hold a steady grip on his collar as he shushes you with a husky “shut up”.

His stubble grazes and prickles as he reclaims your wet lips with bruising vigor.

The chain lies broken, his resolve has been torn to shreds after months of no reciprocation. He’s a starved man, too battered and scarred to seek his fix from a stranger. So he’s looked to you, an amalgamation of senseless strength and a hollow heart, an abyss devoid of feeling or emotion, the worst possible option, but in his mind – the only option.

Desperation blinds even the strongest of warriors.

With wobbly steps, he squishes you between the wall and himself, lets words flow without a single sound, and twirls his tongue around yours as you perfectly follow his shaky guidance. He sucks at whatever he can find, made mad with a craving for your essence despite never having tasted you before, slobbers you like a touch-starved dog.

Crushed into the warm safety of his body, in the darkness of his quarters, you're hidden from the world as he gingerly indulges his wants. Senses peaking from overdrive, you only hear, smell and feel him, a fleshy mountain carrying the scent of what you learn is home. What little exposed skin you find is scalding, he shudders while you unintentionally map out his shoulders in search of purchase.

He peppers heated pecks down your jaw with a resounding groan and finds the even pulse in your neck.

You jolt as his teeth encase the spot and he freezes.

“Want me to stop?”

His head is nestled in the crook of your neck, away from the possible judgment of your sight. His voice is low, a scratchy reverberation, strained with a need too great to be put out by his self-restraint alone. He’s a mess, oozing hormones, jittery and uncertain but too lost in his delight to retreat.

He’s slipped inadvertently and wound up vulnerable.

“No.”

He’s satisfied with your answer only for a moment before the nagging reality starts chewing at his gut. You aren’t normal. You’re not the typical bird he’d pick out in a bar after a particularly heavy mission and one too many glasses of scotch. You’re fucked up.

He doesn’t want to keep asking, wishes so direly to stay blind and dumb to the facts spitting acid in his face. But he’s too grounded for such fantastical blessings.

“Want me to keep going?” he looks up with a clenched jaw.

His breathing slows, preparing for a hit similar to a bullet to the chest, but there is no Kevlar to shield him from the devastation. He’s bare before you, at your mercy despite his stoic composure keeping him visibly untouchable. You should pity him, feel something because your situation hints at him being more than an ally or friend. You should muddle the truth or let him down delicately, he deserves as much.

He wanted you to want him. He didn’t want to be alone in his desires.

But you’re no liar, you’re not a gentle soul. You offer him a curt, tasteless answer.

You stare him straight in the eyes and shoot.

“No.”

It stings more than it should.

“I want for nothing.”

The fire in his belly is extinguished, it feels as if the blood is sucked out of his body. The stab leaves his pulsing cock flaccid with only a stain of precum smeared against his boxers as a reminder of the blossoming need you’d snuffed out mercilessly.

He holds your gaze as the spark in his shrunken orbs vanishes, then slowly sets you down and tears himself away with disgust; regretful and insulted.

“Get out…”

[I'm a bit uncertain about this one. It's a niche idea, but it's been swimming in my head for some time now. Someday I'll be satisfied with my writing, but for now I'll settle for this. I'm not great at COD characters so if anyone seems OOC forgive me. I try my best, but I'm a rookie.]

#ghost fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #mw2 fanfic #x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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naturalrights-retard · 2 months

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Privacy experts are sounding the alarm about two recent court orders that allowed the federal government to order Google to release private information about users who watched certain unapproved videos and livestreams on YouTube.

According to the orders, the feds demanded information on all viewers of select YouTube videos that Washington says involve criminal activity like the selling of Bitcoin for cash.

Undercover agents spoke with an account called "elonmuskwhm" whom they suspect is breaking money laundering laws around the unlicensed transmitting of money, sending the account links to YouTube tutorials for mapping via drones and augmented reality software. After doing this, the feds petitioned Google for information about everyone who watched the videos, which collectively amassed 30,000 views.

The purpose of this baiting by the feds was to out "elonmuskwhm" via the linked videos by forcing Google to reveal everyone who watched said videos, allowing the feds to narrow down the pool to their target.

"The court orders show the government telling Google to provide the names, addresses, telephone numbers and user activity for all Google account users who accessed the YouTube videos between January 1 and January 8, 2023," reports explain.

"The government also wanted the IP addresses of non-Google account owners who viewed the videos."

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hindintech · 6 months

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Frontend Projects Ideas

ADVANCED

1. E-commerce Website

2. Social Network

3. Online Learning Platform

4. Music Streaming Service

5. Real Estate Listing

6. Project Management Tool

7. Chatbot Interface

8. Job Board

9. Weather Forecast with Al

10. Stock Trading Platform

11. loT Dashboard

12. Voice Assistant Interface

13. Expense Report Generator

14. Augmented-Reality App

15. Interactive 3D Graphics

16. Blockchain Explorer

17. Machine-Learning Dashboard

18. Language Learning App

19. Financial Planning

20. Astronomy Viewe

#codeblr #code #coding #learn to code #progblr #programming #software #studyblr #front end developers #front end development #web developers #full stack web development #full stack developer #full stack development #learning #tech #technology #my projects

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jadegretz · 1 month

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Nova's Resolve: Adventures of a Fearless Spartan by Jade Gretz

The sweltering heat of Sanghelios beat down on Nova's MJOLNIR armor, turning the emerald green into a suffocating oven. Beads of sweat trickled down her brow, blurring the holographic map projected on her visor. They were deep within the bowels of a Forerunner ruin, a labyrinthine network of tunnels carved into the crimson cliffs that dominated the Sangheili homeworld.

Nova, a Spartan-IV known for her tactical mind and unorthodox methods, crouched behind a crumbled pillar, surveying the chamber ahead. Its cavernous space reeked of a damp, organic decay that sent shivers down her spine. The flickering glow of her flashlight revealed glyphs etched onto the walls, twisted and alien, pulsing with an unnatural light.

Her squad – the stoic Sergeant Forge, the wisecracking rookie Spartan Thorne, and the enigmatic Spartan Vale – stood huddled beside her. They were on Sanghelios to investigate reports of unusual Covenant activity. What they found was far more disturbing.

"They're not Covenant," Forge muttered, his voice tight. "Those things…"

He gestured towards mounds of twisted flesh and bone scattered across the chamber floor. The skeletal remains of Grunts and Jackals were intermingled with the grotesque forms of Flood – the parasitic lifeforms that had once nearly consumed the galaxy. But these weren't the Flood Nova knew. These were twisted, mutated versions, their forms pulsing with a sickly green luminescence.

Terror, a primal sensation rarely experienced by Spartans, twisted in Nova's gut. The Flood had been eradicated decades ago. Their return, especially in this horrifying form, was a horrifying prospect. But fear wouldn't win this fight. Nova needed a plan.

"Forge," she said, her voice calm despite the rising panic. "How many can you detect?"

"Sensors are picking up… something," Forge grunted, his voice strained as he focused on his augmented reality interface. "They're… not registering like normal Flood. They're… distorted."

"Distorted?" Thorne scoffed, his youthful bravado barely masking his fear. "That's great. Exactly what we n …(see the rest of the story at deviantart.com/jadegretzAI). For more supergirl, chun li, batgirl, tifa, lara croft, wonder woman, rogue and much more, please visit my page at www.deviantart.com/jadegretzai - Thanks for your support :)

#ai #aiart #digitalart #jadegretz #fantasyart #fanart #beautifulgirl #aiartwork #aiartcommunity #kitana #mortalkombat #arcade #videogames #gamer

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aurosoulart · 1 year

Video

decided to make a reel of my augmented reality artworks done over the past few months and MAN, it’s.......... suddenly hitting me just how absolutely nuts all of this is

six years ago, virtual reality was still firmly in the realm of science fiction. but now? not only is it real - but it’s possible to have a career working completely inside a virtual world where you have godlike controls over creation. (editing physics, light, gravity - and spawning things into existence on a whim? mind-mindbogglingly, this is somehow just my average workday)

I regularly spend so much time in-headset that it’s started re-wiring my brain; I think of landscapes and buildings as potential canvases for 3D digital artworks, and I sometimes struggle to differentiate virtual objects from reality. (I’ve tried to place real objects on virtual tables, and I instinctively step over/around virtual objects because of how REAL they appear and behave.)

our brains work by building a picture of reality via our sensory input, but what happens when that input is completely virtual? virtual reality is showing us that not only are our brains easily tricked, but that this is already happening even with the technology in its infancy. people using avatars with full-body tracking report ‘phantom sense’ sensations to virtual touch, heat, and cold - and haptic gloves & suits are in development that blur the lines between realities even further.

what will a world look like where we interact with cyperspace as if it was real? where you can meet with anyone, anywhere, in a virtual world you can both touch, hear, and (probably someday) smell or even taste? where job training, 3d design, therapy, education, etc. are all revolutionized by XR in the same way personal computers revolutionized them already?

what does a future look like where we don’t interact with digital media through a screen?

I don’t have the answers, but I think change is encroaching rapidly upon us all - and I think it’s gonna hit us faster than any of us can realize.