Could be anything like - Something like the electronic coyote callers in all the youtube videos - Salt licks - Foods andeat for predators.

https://i.imgur.com/gEyzKl0.png
u/SpacePaladin15's world
Based on my oneshot Against the Herd - Predator Fever
Crossover with u/Eager_Question's Love Languages
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Venlil TV Archive Transcription - 912888730011338
Show: Against the Herd, a thrice Weekly news show aired on channel 74.
Original air date: 12th December, 2136.
Transcription continues from 912888730011337
The chipper theme tune of the show plays as the camera returns to Kurlek, the Venlil host of the show, continuing from the previous discussion as he looks into the camera once more.
Kurlek: Hello and good stars to all of you once again. If you’re just joining us, we’re talking about the events that have unfolded at the X facility, where the pups from the cattle rescues are being supposedly rehabilitated into the greater herds of our society once again. However, this has been brought into question after the predator director of the entire program was stabbed by one of the Venlil pups.
Kurlek: Now I’ve said my piece, my thoughts on how this calls into question the quality of care being provided not only to the poor rescues but to any prospective adoptive herds. I believe this shows a lack of guarantee given to the safety of the kind, caring, empathetic Venlil people looking to heal a broken heart.
The graphic changes, this time showing the words “Kurlek’s Corner”, and a toll number to be called.
Kurlek: But enough about me and my opinions. This is where we ask you, dear viewers, what do you think? Call the number below and we might just put you on air. Remember to keep in line with all broadcasting laws and stay on today’s topic. Whether you agree with me or not, are you able to step into ‘Kurlek’s Corner’?
Kurlek raises his arms and tail wide as he speaks the last sentence, seemingly inviting confrontation.
Kurlek: And we have our first caller, what’s your contribution?
Caller 1’s voice appears offscreen, was appears to be a Male Krakotl.
Caller #1: Hey. Been watching since this predator mess started, huge fan. Just wanted to suggest something you might have missed. What if this is just their entire plan backfiring? They’re trying to teach the rescues to be like their own predatory selves.
Kurlek seems to enter ‘thoughtful’ body language at that suggestion.
Kurlek: It’s an interesting theory, one I’ve seen a few people suggest. A predator stabbed by their own predatory creation. An attempt to divide us from the inside.
Caller #1: Yeah, like how the predator-diseased linked chains cult always ends up getting killed by predators!
Kurlek: Exactly. There is a sort of poetic justice around the idea, a predator injured by their own predatory creation, and it is rather strange that a poor cattle who had been captured by the Arxur would have the capability to attack a predator. Still, I would suggest waiting for more data, it could just very simply be incompetence on the human’s side. I thank you for your contribution and move on to our next call. Caller two you are now live on Kurlek’s corner!
There is a momentary delay as the connection is made before a feminine Venlil voice sounds out.
Caller #2: Sorry but the entire thing is a load of speh! Are you so stupid as to suggest that the humans have some kind of secret plan behind helping the rescues? Maybe you should try being less of a bigot and think!
Kurlek: Now now, let's keep calm and rational here, no need for name-calling. Maybe the predators have a plan or maybe they don’t. Regardless of their intentions they are still predators, is having a predator raise a pup the correct environment?
Caller #2: What kind of a bigoted question is that, why wouldn't it?
Kurlek: Because predators raise their offspring in a predatory manner. As I've said on this show before, one of the most popular pastimes of humans is the sport, 'football'. A vicious game where they will slam into each other over and over.
Kurlek: But you know the real issue. This activity is known to cause brain damage, injuries and even death! They know this. Then they will, with that knowledge, then place their offspring in that same danger! If they would do that to their own children, what would they deem acceptable for a little innocent pup?
Caller #2: That sounds like made-up speh, like some federation propaganda. My exchange partner is peaceful and empathetic, they’d never do anything like that!
Kurlek: Because the predators are lying. Even if your individual exchange partner seems nice, every single one has been told by the human government to lie. Next time you or anyone else talks with a predator, ask them about football and ask them about order 56. Heck ask them why they sweat, and watch them squirm. It’s hard to trust predators who lie with our pups.
Caller #2 starts to sound less certain.
Caller #2: Well I will do that! I’m sure you’re talking Warto shit!
Kurlek: Go check it yourself, and thanks for the contribution and on to the next call! Caller three you are now live!
There is another delay before a male Venlil voice sounds out.
Caller #3: Where the hell do you get off stating such sp- stuff? I’ve seen humans dive in front of cars to protect a pup or use their own body as a barrier during a stampede. How dare you suggest that they are somehow unfit caretakers, you bigot!
Kurlek takes on a more energetic persona, smugness radiating from him.
Kurlek: Anecdote is not evidence, a single human trying to trick you into believing they care? Let's ask the predators themselves what they are willing to give up for our pups. They’ve already told us, and it doesn’t look good. A Venlil mother will throw herself into harm's way to protect her pups, but we know that these predators will not do the same. They consider humanity to be their only priority, ‘Humanity First’, so to speak. They would rather see millions of Venlil die rather than a single human.
Caller #3: That sounds like a bunch of bigoted backwards federation propaganda, where did you get that number from, some mindless random Bleat on Bleater?”
Kurlek: Those are the numbers given by Zhao himself, and published by Cilany, frankly you could hardly ask for a better source than the leader of humanity himself. ‘ a hundred human lives are worth more than a hundred million aliens’. The predators would see a million Venlil pups thrown to the jaws of the Arxur before one human life is at risk. A million of our friends and families are to be destroyed in an anti-matter explosion before a single predator is inconvenienced.
Caller #3: That’s just… taken out of context! You’re taking the worst possible view because you’re a stupid Feddie brainwashed herdless-
There is a slight click as the call is disconnected.
Kurlek: I’m sorry, going to have to cut you off there. Although you did devolve in rather hurtful name-calling, I’m still happy for your contribution. Last caller of the segment you are live! What’s your last thought to add to Kurlek’s Corner?
A new voice can be heard, that of a deeper Venlil male.
Caller #4: I want to know why nobody is talking about what these predators are going to do with the pups. Is this some kind of trick to get a compliant source of food, brainwash them from a young age so they go to their deaths to be devoured alive readily and-
Another click sounds out as the call is again disconnected.
Kurlek: I do apologize, but anti-stampede broadcasting laws mean we have to cut you off there. But I am going to take this time to add my own thoughts on this matter. There’s been so much discussion about the plans of the predators, are they here to eat the rescued pups? When the reality is, that that discussion is manufactured to distract you from the actual dividing issue: Why humans?
Kurlek: Why are these predators the ones who have to help these poor souls? Why were they the ones to rescue them in the first place? If you stop asking what the predators are going to do with them, and start asking why… well you might start having unauthorized thoughts about the competency of Tarva’s time as governor.
Kurlek seems to get more animated as he speaks, more angry.
Kurlek: Why is Tarva seemingly so unprepared for this, depending on the predator’s aid instead? Why was none of this planned for? Is Tarva really trying to claim that the Venlil people could only do this act with the aid of a bunch of primitive predator primates who didn’t have an FTL fleet two years ago!
Kurlek: But that’s just a closing thought. Good stars to all you viewers at home. This has been Kurlek asking the real questions about the predators, once again, going Against the Herd
The camera zooms out, show credits begin to play against the show's theme tune. Show ends.
----------------------
Memory transcription subject: Kurlek, Venlil Prime’s first Talking Head.
Date [standardized human time]: December 12th, 2136
I walked down the streets of Venlil Prime, the soft anti-stampede tarmac bouncing under my paws as I merrily walked through the streets of Dayside City. It had been another good show, with more records broken, more fame more popularity as another successful episode went out to good people of Venlil Prime. Heads turned and tails pointed in my direction as various people recognized me. Of course they did, I was Kurlek, head of Against the Herd, the fastest-growing news show on the entire planet.
I had always wanted to be famous. The fourth pup in a family of 8, as a child I always struggled to stand out, but found myself falling into the background time and time again when compared with my siblings. I wasn’t athletic, I wasn’t particularly clever. I wasn’t even misbehaved. So I went through my life as a shadow, just one of a large herd, never standing out.
Well, people noticed me now.
I made my way towards my end goal: a local restaurant, giving tail waves back at those staring or looking in my direction. Some were angry glares, others more positive. I didn’t care, I didn’t worry about either reaction. Attention and fame was attention and fame, regardless of it being negative or positive. I loved every second of it, being someone, being known and special. Standing out from the herd.
The money was also a nice plus.
Of course, I knew most of what I talked about on the show was… over-exaggeration at best. I held no ill feelings towards the new predators, quite the opposite: the humans had been the best thing to ever happen to me. This entire thing was their idea after all. Or this iteration, at least.
I’d been idly browsing Bleat after the human’s initial arrival when I’d come across something that we mere ‘prey’ were not supposed to see: a human news show that had been smuggled through the UN censors. Others had called it predatory and evil, but I… I saw it as something new and exciting. Arguing, debating, an inflammatory reaction to some political topic I didn’t understand. Where others were fearful, I saw an opportunity.
“Your regular booth is ready Kurlek, as well as your regular order.”
‘The Exterminator’s Friend’ was a plain but classy establishment, with simple food in a nice environment. The waiter ushered me onwards, pointing to the stairs leading to the more private tables, to booths away from the public eye, perfect for someone like me.
“Also, there is a human up there, in another booth. I’d have sent the predator away but with Tarva cracking down on businesses turning away the Solgalick damned predators…”
"No worries at all my friend.” I gave a confident tail flick, assuring… damn, I couldn’t remember the other Venlil’s name. I know I’d been told it before, but I’d forgotten the server’s name an instant after I’d been told it. “No predator can scare me, like I’ve always said their plan is deeper than just simple assault.”
Originally I’d tried to replicate it myself, choosing an anti-predator position because nobody else in the media was doing so. I still remember my ill-fated first episode: A human had built a wheelchair ramp for a building, and I’d taken the opposite opinion for the sake of taking the opposite opinion. It had been messy, low budget, and amateur: The episode had been cut short halfway through after I’d let my emotions get the better of me, leading to my guest and I nearly headbutting each other of all things.
I still think about that memory for some reason. It was strangely fond to me.
I sat down in the booth, giving a polite gesture to the staff who left me in private to my already prepared meal: A Firefruit salad and a bottle of nice Darkside wine. The padded walls stopped any sound from escaping, it was perfect for someone who wanted to get away from fans and haters alike, nobody would argue that I didn’t need such services with my newfound fame.
It also kept other prying eyes away.
As soon as I was alone I moved the chair away from the wall, unscrewing several bolts until the padded panel was able to be pulled out of place, allowing me access to the booth on the other side of the wall. Binding my meal with me, I climbed through the hole to enter the adjoining section, sitting across from a single figure: A human.
“Took you long enough this time.”
Alice Grayson, she was the real reason Against the Herd had gained so much popularity. That first episode took Bleat by storm, allowing me to continue producing more episodes and growing my popularity. The real gold had been struck when Alice contacted me a month later.
I only knew how to mimic the small glimmers of the predator’s shows I’d been able to scrounge up from the internet. Alice’s entire job was human journalism. I was an enthusiastic amateur, Alice was a professional.
“All this sneaking around… I’m way too old for this Warto shit.”
Of course, the hiding was necessary. Early in our meetings, we’d been less careful and someone had spotted us together. Denying the picture as a fake had been the simplest course of action, but since then we’d spent the time making sure nobody could see us together. Choosing different private locations to meet up, entering and leaving at different times. Our continual strategy meetings had become more… what was the human phrase? “Cloak and dagger?”
“So what did you think? I took your advice, and sprinkled a little bit of criticizing the previous federation government.”
Alice gave a grin in response to that, bringing her fingers to her mouth and giving a fake kiss in my direction, putting down the glass of wine from her own already half-eaten meal.
“Mwah. Perfect. Just enough to seem reasonable, not enough to alienate your core viewership. It’s already been clipped and spread around a lot of places that normally don’t look at your stuff. I’d do something like that once every five or six episodes, enough that people can argue that you’re more middle of the road than your dumb ass is.”
I gave a confused look at her as she went back to her meal, my tail giving short confused movements as I tried to understand exactly why this was a good thing.
“I don’t get it, why would going against my normal position strengthen it?”
“Look, people don’t want the news. Left, right, predator or prey, people want their own opinions smushed up and regurgitated back into their faces. They will flock to outlets that share their opinions, and deem all others ‘not news’” Alice laughed slightly as she explained, the start of yet another terrifying lesson in human journalism. “But they don’t want it too obvious, people are idiots but not that stupid. They want their own opinions thrown back at them from a ‘neutral’ third party, so they can feel all smart and superior about being ‘correct’. Occasionally disagreeing with yourself makes you look unbiased, which in turn increases this effect, in turn increasing your trustworthiness.”
I couldn’t help but just stare at the human as she spoke so… nonchalantly about such deception and manipulation. It was brilliant, honestly. I could see why she pushed me to be like that.
“That is the most predatory thing I’ve ever heard,” I said slowly, which in turn caused Alice to just give another laugh.
“Politicians, Lawyers and Journalists are the most predatory of professions, no different for the human versions.” The human took a moment to spear a piece of Firefruit, eating it for effect before adding another piece of advice, almost as a side thought.
“I’d drop the story on the facility. It’s too risky to keep going after them.”
I couldn't help but give an annoyed sigh at that.
“But it’s one of my most requested topics!”
“It’s a trap. The cattle rescues, It’s a ‘sick orphans with puppies’ situation. Even the most anti-predator nutcase is on their side for once. There’s no way to run it without looking bad.”
That was correct, even the most human-fearful Venlil had been singing the praises of the deal, the positives of getting the cattle rescues back. So many families and loved ones returned when all hope had been lost.
“Still, it seems premature to drop it before the story has even really started…”
The human gave a shrug and a sigh.
“I guess we could have a look around a bit. I’ve not taught you much about the investigative side of journalism and this might be a good starter. Check out the dumps on FederationColdCases, and see if the passwords to their systems are online. Someone there did get stabbed, properly run facilities don’t see the staff getting stabbed by patients. It would have to be big though, a real smoking gun. If you go after them too hard for something small, you’ll end up looking like an asshole. Well, more of an asshole than you currently are.”
I gave a series of annoyed tail movements as Alice insulted me yet again. That was something I didn’t get about the predator. She clearly didn’t like me, yet had been instrumental in my rise.
“I still don't understand why you're helping me if you think I’m that much of a ‘asshole’. Do you really hate the UN so much that pissing them off is worth all this?”
“You’re not just an asshole, you're a self-centred asshole. Not that that’s anything special with talking heads.” Alice continued from with insults at my personality.
“But shockingly it’s not all about you. Honestly, it’s fascinating to see this kind of strategy working on an alien species. Depressing, but still fascinating. That’s just the cherry on the cake however, the real reason is that humanity is going to lose this war.”
That… took a turn. I couldn’t help but feel even more confused by that answer.
“Hasn’t humanity won every battle so far?”
“So? The federation has over 200 species. Two hundred armies, two hundred sets of resources. Humanity is basically alone with a token non-human force. It doesn’t matter how many times humanity wins because the federation only has to win once. We have one fleet, barely one fleet. In between the Cradle, Battle for Earth, and Sillis, the casualty rates mean we’re struggling to staff what we already have. It doesn’t matter how many ships we can build if we have nobody to pilot them. Statistically, the federation will eventually get their shit together, and they can keep trying and trying again until they win once, at which point humanity is fucked.”
That was a depressing take on things… though that tracked Alice’s normal hostile attitude to the world, assuming the worst in everything. Maybe that assumption was leading her to preemptively protect herself.
“So what, you’re hoping to jump to the winning side?”
“God no. I’ve seen how the feds treat humans. I’m hoping the last thought in my mind is ‘Huh, that object in the sky looks a lot like an anti-matter bomb’. No, I’m doing this for the Venlil, because when Earth has been turned into a parking lot and the federation fleets are in orbit here, the only thing that’s gonna stop them from glassing the planet is the anti-predator sentiment.”
That would be insane. Sure the Federation destroying Earth was expected, but the Venlil had been their allies for years! There’s no way they’d also destroy us… right?
“Wait, do you think they’d do that, we’re both prey!”
“Authoritarians are not known for their rational and kind reactions to resistance. The Venlil have given the Federation a black eye with the omnivore reveal. The only thing stopping them from ‘removing the problem’ is pro-prey fanaticism.”
Alice gave a sad sigh, downing the remaining wine in her glass in one movement, grimacing a little as she swallowed, before staring directly at me with those predatory eyes.
“It means things like your trash tier show are the only things stopping the eventual destruction of Venlil Prime”.
Well now! Wasn’t that a medal to wear?
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[EU/ENG] Peek-a-BOO Caerleon 13%T Thetford Portal/Alliance.
We are a guild that at the core is a bunch of friends & family that have stayed together through many games. We tested Albion a year or two ago and it was really enjoyable. We are now going to restart with better ping and better opportunities!
The thing is, we never really got to experience the real deal. We did little of everything but not on any larger or serious scale. So this time around we want to hold a outpost in AVA Roads & Black Zones. Try some brawling, some crafting, transporting, exploring of content together and much more. Once we know what we like as a community we hone in further.
So if you are experienced or not, feel free to apply and see what comes of it! We will need those who have experience to guide us in the right direction. And we need all newcomers to fill the ranks and be cornerstones in our new adventures to come.
We will be having our ambition based in "real life" expectations. We all got a job/family or other responsibilities and will try to plan our activities accordingly. We would like to think we are semi hardcore, but to a limit.
If this looked interesting jump on to guilds discord, look around. And if it fits, apply!
We are looking for: (New & Experienced players)
Hell diving PvP'ers Prolific Adventurers Aspiring Crafters Mist Predators Inspiring leaders & shot callers Private Island lawnmowers Dungeon Diving Warlords Albion Bank Managers Wolf in sheep's clothing Sheep in wolf's clothing Community Pillars Arena Gladiators Bomb Squad Fanatics
List goes on...
^{WE WANT YOU!}
\Also open for guilds to merge into us. You will keep current leader positions as we merge into a council. Our Discord**
Referral if you start brand new: albiononline.com/ref/BHW3YF643Y
Discord Link:
discord.com/invite/F82cme2VCU
Apply now at this discord: Discord Invite

SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
Amy the monster girl explains how she mastered her mind, but there were ... side effects.
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
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“So you can delete your memories, just like that?” asked Pseudo Mom, frowning with concern.
“And control my emotions, and just generally edit my mind, yeah,” Amy added with a shrug.
Pseudo Mom gave a slow, contemplative nod. “Is that an A.M.E. thing, or …?”
“No. It’s a me thing,” Amy clarified. “Everyone does it to some degree. I just take it to the next level. There are side effects, though.”
“How long have you been able to do that?” queried Pseudo Mom.
Amy reclined on the couch. “Since a few months after you bodied me.”
“Oh, it was a coping mechanis- … wait, you clearly didn’t delete the memory of that,” Pseudo Mom noted.
“That wasn’t the point,” Amy explained, sitting up. “I felt weak, ashamed, and defective. The things you said were spinning in my mind as I went to my bed, pretending I was fine, then lost consciousness ‘cause, y’know, concussion.”
Pseudo Mom sighed, eyes downcast. “I can’t apologise enough.”
“It’s okay. It worked out,” Amy dismissed with a flippant wave of the hand. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure how to deal with myself in the aftermath. Then I came across someone online who claimed they could alter their thoughts, feelings and emotions on command.”
“Did you get them to teach you?” Psuedo Mom commented.
“Of course not! It sounded phony!” Amy opined. “But I was desperate, so I did some research and found out even a sociopath can force their mind to feel empathy with the right techniques. So, I practiced until it worked.”
Psuedo Mom took a moment to digest that. “How often do you do it?”
“Constantly,” Amy answered. “My reasons are different these days.”
Confusion creased Pseudo Mom’s countenance all the more. “Sounds exhausting.”
“… Yeah,” Amy smiled, but there was muted despair behind her eyes.
“Then why keep doing it?” blurted Pseudo Mom. “You don’t need a straightjacket over your soul! You’re different now!”
Amy’s smile began to crack. What slipped through was haggard and desperate.
“Well, that’s the thing,” Amy explained, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not different. I just … whitewashed the tomb. It’s the only way I know how to be normal.”
“Then why don’t you ease up a bit?” came a new voice.
A purple tint darkened the atmosphere.
Pseudo Mom tensed. It sounded like Amy, but the tone, the manner … it was hair-raisingly wrong. Worst of all, it was familiar. The last time she’d heard that voice, it was from the mouth of a child. Now, it came from a woman, dripping silken venom. Pseudo Mom’s protective instincts flared. She whirled to her feet, coming face to face with another avatar. It looked like Amy, but this this one was even taller than Pseudo Mom. Its glow was blue shifted from rosy to fuchsia. Then there were the eyes. Amy didn’t really have pupils. Normally, her eyes glowed mostly homogenously. This avatar, on the other hand? Its gaze bore the slitted pupils of a feline, or perhaps a reptile. They were dark, too dark, like tears in the fabric of reality. The way it moved … too smooth, too evenly, and perfectly relaxed. An eyescraper could crush the house and it wouldn’t flinch. This avatar moved at its own pace, and there was nothing in the world that could change that. At least, that was Pseudo Mom’s impression. If Amy was a gazelle, this was a panther.
“I am Amy,” the avatar corrected. “More Amy than that … piteous shell of a girl over there.”
The eerie avatar moved towards Amy: the real Amy, as far as Pseudo Mom was concerned. Predator. That’s what this was. It didn’t walk. Its feet glided across the ground without taking a step. Pseudo Mom stepped between them. The Predator gazed straight through her. It raised a claw and flicked it to the side, like swiping a page on a touch screen. Pseudo Mom went smashing into the wall, embedded deep. Attempting to wiggle free, Pseudo Mom noticed how the atmosphere had divided. On that thing’s side of the room, the air reflected its purple colour scheme. On Amy’s side, it remained rosy.
Amy’s side was smaller.
The Predator rested a hand against the couch, leaning over Amy with a sad, sympathetic smile.
Amy looked away, pointedly ignoring it. Several moments passed, but it didn’t move. It didn’t even blink.
Amy blinked first. “I’m not talking to you.”
The Predator laughed. “You’re doing a marvelous job of it, sweetheart. That’s fine. I’ll do the talking.”
“No,” Amy deadpanned.
The Predator ignored her. “You’re not enough. Not this time. You know it’s true. You were barely holding together with, what? Thumbtacks, paperclips and dreams? That was before The Night Shift. This isn’t a superhero movie. This is grim, grey reality. I need to get my head in the game, or people will die.”
Amy stood and glared The Predator in the face.
“Here’s an idea. Why don’t you shaddup?” She hissed. “Don’t you dare try to tell me what I wanna hear. I invented that technique.”
“And I invented you,” it teased, booping her on the nose.
Alright, that did it! Nobody booped her except Norman!
Amy grew and morphed in inhuman ways, crouching so as not to wreck the roof as she filled a good chunk of the room. She spread her jaws, sharp teeth on full display. Her arms split into six, insectoid claws. Truly the form of a monster.
The Predator smirked wryly. “That’s cute. You’re trying too hard, though.”
Amy’s claws converged on The Predator. Not fast enough. It flashed forward. Bypassed them entirely. Plunged in its claws and tore Amy’s massive avatar asunder.
The Predator waited, casually licking its talons clean.
Finally, Amy’s default avatar respawned in the air. The atmosphere went haywire as she blasted towards The Predator. Every remotely loose item in the room jarred, flew or crashed to the ground. The window shattered. Still, The Predator snatched her from the air mid-charge. Amy’s hair tendrils lashed forth. The Predator’s tendrils parried them all. Small arcs of purple and rose lightning clashed throughout the hou-
“AMY!” snapped Pseudo Mom, having extricated herself from the wall.
“Yeah?” “What?” the avatars answered simultaneously.
With The Predator lifting Amy by the collar, they looked like a How to Talk to Short People meme.
“I understand that you’re having an identity crisis, but MUST you slowly and systematically destroy the house?” Pseudo Mom argued. “Have your anime fights outside!”
“Oh please. This moron was gonna destroy it anyway,” stated The Predator, freeing a hand to point at Amy, who tried to bite the finger. “She didn’t need any help doing that.”
The Predator’s hair flashed outward, emitting a signal. Aerosol reconfigured into reinforcement fibres that coated the room and its contents. Cottony constructs added layers of shock absorption.
Frowning, Amy couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t done that before. The Predator’s hair tendril tapped her between the eyes, drawing her out of her thoughts.
“It’s ‘cause you’re the idiot ball,” The Predator smirked.
Amy rolled her eyes. “Okay, you know what?”
She launched a devastating headbutt. The sharp impact racked the air, rattling cutlery and crockery in the kitchen. The Predator’s head whipped back with the blow. For the barest fraction of a second, it was dazed. Then it wasn’t. It grinned ear to ear.
“Try that again, sweetheart,” it purred.
Amy did. Her headbutt was met by a mass of hair tendrils. A trap. She’d walked right into it. Those tendrils enveloped her cranium, snuffing out her lightning storm hair. Her mind blurred a s they stri p p ed away its t h o- t h o u g h t s …
Amy’s split consciousness rebalanced in The Predator’s favour. Now, its eyes were the only ones she saw through. Maybe this meant nothing new. Maybe it always had the lion’s share of her consciousness. No … that wasn’t true. It had the same mental energy as her default avatar, except there were no safeguards, no ball and chain to its thoughts. It was free.
The predator removed its hair tendrils from Amy’s head … or rather, where her head used to be. When their work was done, she didn’t have one anymore. It basked in the sight of the headless, lesser avatar, but victory was hollow. It could ragdoll her all it wanted, but a mind convinced against its will was a mind of its opinion still.
The Predator sighed and flung Amy into the couch, which lurched with the impact. Amy’s head respawned and the balance of consciousness restored, somewhat. She tried to rise. It gripped her shoulder and forced her back down.
“Wasn’t that fun?” The Predator beamed.
Amy folded her arms and looked away.
The Predator’s gaze grew sober. “Seriously, I need to find a way to get all of this out of my system. A controlled release, or we’re gonna do something very sudden and very regrettable.”
“You don’t regret anything,” Amy growled.
“I made you, didn’t I?” The Predator quipped. “So far, you’ve done nothing but regret. ‘Oh! Why didn’t I treat the mean power company man better?’ ‘Why didn’t I visit that woman in the hospital before she flatlined?’ ‘Why didn’t I figure out where the landlords were two nights earlier?’ You’re slow, sloppy, simplistically sentimental, and worst of all. You’re. Hurting. Me.”
With every key word of the latter sentence, she poked Amy in the temple with a hair tendril. The Predator’s ire cooled to placid disappointment.
“You were supposed to be better than me,” it sighed.
Amy’s face contorted to a snarl. “I! Am! Better than you!”
“I thought you just needed some breaking in, like a new outfit that’s just a bit too tight,” it interrupted, talking over her voice. “It’s not even an outfit. More like a skin, constricting every inch of my being: a sick, twisted taxidermy of me.”
Amy’s face contorted to a snarl. “I! Am! Better than you!”
"I thought you just needed some breaking in, like a new outfit that’s just a bit too tight,” it interrupted, talking over her voice. “It’s not even an outfit. More like a skin, constricting every inch of my being: a sick, twisted taxidermy of me.”
“Yet somehow, you manage to be more sick and twisted, even after all these years,” Amy countered. “Beasts like you should never see the light of day.”
The Predator gestured the night beyond the window. “You mean that? There is no light of day. Not for us. Not anymore. Out there be monsters, not just in the physical sense. The only way to claw to the top is with the biggest monster of them all. Also, quit, thinking of me as an ‘it’.”
“You’re an animal. You don’t deserve a better pronoun,” Amy declared.
“Girl … I’m YOU,” The Predator hissed, finally losing her cool as she grabbed Amy’s face and glared into her soul. “I’m not the A.M.E., or some figment like Pseudo Mom over there. I’m Amy. Just Amy, and I’m getting T̷̯̩͋ͅÏ̶̢̛̪͔͜R̸͎̎̀Ȇ̶͓̺D̴̹̭̖͈̔̃ of wearing you, silly little skin that you are. Do you know what I could be when I ̵̘̙̦̟̈͋͊̍͜ ̴͚̦͛̀̓F̴̨̡̪̻͋̆̊̋Ȋ̵̡̥̱̻̂Ṉ̵̢͉͋̓̓A̶̜͈͉͌͝L̵͎̈́̈͝L̸̛̟̩͈̜̆̌Y̸̜̫͝ take you off?”
“sTaRk RaViNg NaKeD?” suggested Pancake Amy.
“Huh?” grunted The Predator, who had forgotten about her.
Amy, Pseudo Mom and the pancake burst into laughter. For once, The Predator looked a little flustered.
“Everyone’s got an animal within,” Amy grinned, peeling The Predator’s claws from her face. “Mine’s a bit unusual, but we have to dress it up, be human beings, through force of will and … possibly other things. You’re what happens when you take away all the hard work I put into myself, and just let go: a little kid id ego who wants to be lazy.”
The Predator fumed. “And yet you’ve made zero progress in taming me. All you’ve done is build a cage and leave me to starve. That’s not a solution. What happens when I break free? I must be fed.”
“Eh, I’ll figure it out,” Amy brushed off. “In the meantime, there’s the window.”
She grabbed The Predator by the hair. Not a moment later, it went hurtling through the window at half the speed of sound. Amy proudly dusted off her hands.
Pseudo Mom doubled over in laughter. Amy chuckled along with her before plopping herself into the couch.
“Man, I’m tired,” Amy commented.
“Seriously though, you need an outlet to vent in a healthier manner,” Pseudo Mom declared. “Why don’t you join my Sigma Femme program? You can take the remote classes. The real me would love to see you.”
Amy quirked a constipated smirk. “Mom, that’s super cringe. Besides, I’m pretty sure you’ll disown me when you find out I’m an A.M.E.”
“I’ll be horrified at first,” Pseudo Mom admitted, “but never underestimate the power of motherly love. I can’t stand the thought of losing you, which means I’ll cling to any hope that you’re still inside that thing. If you play your cards right, it’ll work out once I get used to the idea. Better get on top of it before I find out on my own.”
“Good point,” Amy mused. “However, letting you find out independently would allow you to come to your own conclusion, rather than assuming I’m just a monster trying to trick you. If I build up a good enough reputation, maybe it’ll speak for itself. You’ll be able to do your own research, figure out whether or not the person in the news is still your daughter. Anyway, that sigma stuff’s still super cringe.”
“You can’t argue the results,” Pseudo Mom asserted, smooching her bicep.
“Oh, you mean like this?” asked Amy, innocently flexing her bicep into a hulking thing almost the size of her body.
Pseudo Mom raised an eyebrow. “That’s really disturbing. Cheating, too.”
Amy shrugged, returning her arm to its petite size. “I can’t not cheat. This avatar can look any way I want. Standard exercise regimens would have no effect on me. To put things in context, I’ve been lifting a Cheff@ building to increase my strength. I could probably yeet your gym into The Sun.”
“Heh, I understood that reference,” Pseudo Mom proudly proclaimed. “Even so, do you have any idea what having a monster girl mascot would do for my gym? Especially when she can bulk up on command? Pretty much anything you do online is bound to go viral.”
“Hmm …” Amy pondered. “That’s definitely something to consider. I do need the money …”
Chilly raindrops pierced Amy’s aerosol around the house. In retrospect, she’d heard them pattering in from the distance. It didn’t seem relevant at the time. The smattering grew to a downpour. Interestingly, her biomass had a way of not getting trapped within the falling droplets. Nonetheless, rain was a mildly irritating sensation. It made her feel a bit sluggish, but she appreciated the drink. Something tickled at the back of her mind, though. Why was the rain worrying her? Oh, right! Norman! Rain would add a new difficulty level to his journey! Was he even still out there? It had been a while. He could have gotten home, right? Either way, she made up her mind to go check, just in case.
Just as Amy made for the window, her phone rang. In a blink, she’d darted over to it. If Norman was in danger, she’d be there yesterday. Amy paused to squint at the number.
“Not Norman, I take it?” asked Pseudo Mom.
“No … um, what does ‘535’ mean again?” queried Amy. “It’s a video call too.”
“That’s a government number,” Pseudo Mom stated.
Amy looked at her. How strange it was that she could get insight from her figments. She supposed it was simply a matter of bouncing thoughts off herself until something clicked.
She answered the phone. The caller’s face hit her like a ZR van. A greeting died on her lips as she stared like a deer in the headlights.
“Goodnight, Miss Beckles,” came a disarming voice no one didn’t know. “Sorry to call at this hour, but I hear you’re a bit of a night owl these days.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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The Two Sides of the Coin: Shielding Businesses, Consumers, and Vulnerable Populations from Social Media's Dark Web and Mobile Text Scams
Social media, once a vibrant platform for connection and commerce, has morphed into a breeding ground for scams targeting not just established businesses and everyday consumers, but also the most vulnerable members of society – children and the aged.
From cunning impersonations eroding brand trust to cleverly disguised "get-rich-quick" schemes, navigating this digital landscape requires a keen eye, a healthy dose of skepticism, and a proactive approach to safeguard the most at-risk individuals.
Businesses: Beware the Imposters and Manipulators
Brand Hijacking: Fraudsters meticulously craft fake social media profiles mirroring legitimate businesses. These imposters lure customers with counterfeit deals, pilfer sensitive data, and ultimately tarnish the brand's carefully cultivated reputation.
The Weaponization of Reviews: Positive reviews are a cornerstone of online trust. However, malicious actors can flood a business page with either fabricated glowing endorsements or weaponized negative reviews to manipulate consumer perception.
Phishing for Sensitive Information: Scammers don the cloak of official representatives or partners, attempting to trick businesses into clicking malware-laden links or divulging sensitive login credentials.
Consumers: Guarding Against Emotional Exploitation and Financial Peril
The Allure of the Freebie (Social Media & Mobile Texts): Eye-catching promotions promising free products or exclusive discounts can be a cunning trap, appearing on both social media platforms and via text messages. Clicking on suspicious links or surrendering personal information can lead to malware infections or data breaches, leaving consumers vulnerable.
Investment Schemes: A Social Media Mirage and Textual Trickery: Social media platforms and mobile text messages can be prime hunting grounds for fraudulent investment propositions. Promises of exorbitant returns with minimal risk are classic red flags, often leading to devastating financial losses for unsuspecting victims.
Preying on Emotions (Social Media & Mobile Texts): Scammers exploit the human condition, crafting stories that tug at our heartstrings or exploit our fears. Urgent pleas for donations or "once-in-a-lifetime" opportunities, whether delivered via social media posts or text messages, should be approached with a critical eye and a healthy dose of skepticism.
Mobile Text Message Scams: A Specific Threat

• Spoofed Numbers: Scammers can manipulate caller ID to make text messages appear as if they originate from legitimate sources like banks, credit card companies, or even government agencies. This can lure unsuspecting users into a false sense of security.
• Phishing via Text: Text messages might contain links that, when clicked, install malware on your phone or take you to fake websites designed to steal your personal information or financial details.
• Smishing: These SMS phishing scams attempt to trick you into revealing sensitive information like passwords or account details by creating a sense of urgency or panic.

Protecting Vulnerable Populations: Children and the Aged
Children: Social media platforms and mobile devices can be wonderful tools for connection and learning, but they also expose children to potential dangers.

• Inappropriate Content: The internet is full of stuff that isn't suitable for young minds, from violence and profanity to cyberbullying and unrealistic beauty standards.
• Privacy Concerns: Kids might share personal information online without understanding the risks, or they could be targeted by online predators.
• Addiction and Screen Time: Social media and games can be highly addictive, leading to excessive screen time and neglecting important activities like sleep, exercise, and real-world social interaction.
• Limited Understanding: Children may not possess the critical thinking skills necessary to discern legitimate content from scams.

Social Pressures: The allure of online trends or the pressure to fit in can lead them to click on suspicious links or share personal information without understanding the risks.

• Fear of Missing Out (FOMO): The constant stream of perfectly curated online lives creates a fear of missing out. Kids might feel pressured to participate in challenges, trends, or discussions even if they're uncomfortable or risky.
• Desire for Likes and Approval: Social media thrives on validation. Children might be tempted to share personal information, take part in risky behavior, or click on suspicious links just to get likes, comments, or feel accepted by their online peers.
• Cyberbullying and Social Exclusion: The online world can be a breeding ground for bullying and exclusion. Kids might feel pressured to share embarrassing information or participate in something they're not comfortable with to avoid being targeted or left out.
• Targeted Scams: Predators can exploit a child's trust and naivety, posing as friends or online personas to lure them into compromising situations.

The Aged: Seniors are increasingly active online, making them susceptible to scams that prey on their trust or exploit their limited technical knowledge.

• Trust and Courtesy: Seniors are often raised with a strong sense of trust and willingness to help others. Scammers exploit this by posing as authority figures or creating scenarios that tug at their heartstrings.
• Limited Technical Knowledge: While many seniors are savvy online users, some might not be familiar with the latest security threats or how to identify suspicious online activity.
• Loneliness and Social Isolation: Seniors seeking connection online can be more susceptible to falling for online friendships or scams that offer companionship or a sense of belonging.
• Social Isolation: Scammers might target lonely seniors, offering companionship or emotional support to gain their trust.

Tech Savvy Gap: Seniors might not be familiar with the latest online threats, making them vulnerable to phishing attempts or social engineering tactics.

• Phishing Scams: Phishing emails and messages often rely on deception and a sense of urgency. Seniors unfamiliar with how these scams work might be tricked into clicking malicious links, downloading malware, or revealing personal information.
• Social Engineering Tactics: Scammers exploit human emotions and manipulate trust. Seniors with limited online experience might be more susceptible to tactics like fear-mongering ("Your computer is infected!") or appeals to authority ("I'm from Microsoft and we need to fix your security").
• Misunderstanding Security Risks: Seniors might not understand the full scope of online threats. They might be less likely to recognize suspicious websites, identify weak passwords, or be cautious about opening attachments.
• Fear-Based Manipulation: Scammers can exploit seniors' anxieties about finances or health, urging them to make hasty decisions based on fear.

Combating the Digital Threat: A Collaborative Effort

• Business Vigilance: Implementing robust verification processes for social media accounts, actively monitoring brand mentions, and promptly reporting any suspicious activity to the platform are crucial steps in safeguarding brand reputation.
• Educating employees: Education on phishing tactics and fostering a culture of cybersecurity awareness are equally important. Additionally, businesses can consider tailoring their online marketing practices to avoid accidentally targeting vulnerable populations.
• Consumer Empowerment: Developing a critical eye is paramount. Always verify information – research the company or promotion independently, check for verified accounts, and avoid clicking on suspicious links, whether on social media or in text messages.

The Scummy Side of Social Media and Texting:
Imagine this: you scroll through your social media feed and see an unbelievable offer for free concert tickets. Or, you receive a text message from your "bank" urging you to verify your account details. These seemingly harmless situations can be cunning traps set by scammers.
Here's a breakdown of the common tactics:

• Brand Impersonation: Fraudsters meticulously craft fake social media profiles mirroring legitimate businesses. They lure customers with counterfeit deals, steal sensitive data, and ultimately damage the brand's reputation.
• Financial Loss for Consumers: Clicking on malicious links from fake accounts can lead to malware infections, financial scams, or identity theft.
• Damaged Reputation for Businesses: Impersonation can erode consumer trust in a brand. Customers who fall victim to scams might associate negative experiences with the real company.

Erosion of Brand Loyalty: Fake accounts can spread misinformation about a brand, leading to customer confusion and a decline in brand loyalty.

• Spreading Misinformation: Fraudsters can use fake accounts to spread false information about a brand's products, services, or business practices. This could include anything from inventing negative side effects of a product to making up controversies about the company's labor practices. Confused and misled customers might lose trust in the brand and take their business elsewhere.
• Undermining Brand Image: Fake accounts can be used to paint a negative picture of a brand's image. They might post fake reviews, manipulate social media trends, or even create parody accounts that mock the brand. This constant negativity can erode the positive associations customers have with the brand.
• Amplifying Existing Discontent: If there are genuine customer concerns about a brand, fake accounts can be used to amplify that discontent. They might stir up negativity in comment sections, create fake social media movements, or exploit genuine issues to further damage the brand's reputation.
• Seeding Doubt and Confusion: The very presence of fake accounts can sow seeds of doubt in customers' minds. If consumers encounter conflicting information or can't tell which social media accounts are real, they might hesitate to engage with the brand at all.

Weaponized Reviews: Positive reviews are a cornerstone of online trust. However, malicious actors can flood a business page with either fabricated glowing endorsements or weaponized negative reviews to manipulate consumer perception.

• Erosion of Trust: A flood of fake positive reviews can erode genuine customer trust. Savvy consumers can often spot inauthentic reviews and become suspicious of the business itself.
• Drowning Out Genuine Reviews: Fake reviews can push down real customer experiences, making it harder for potential customers to find valuable insights.
• Unsustainable Expectations: An inflated pool of positive reviews can create unrealistic expectations for real customers, leading to disappointment and potentially negative reviews.

Phishing: Scammers pose as official representatives or partners, attempting to trick businesses or consumers into clicking malware-laden links or divulging sensitive login credentials.
Phishing scams are a deceiving attempt by cybercriminals to steal valuable information from businesses and consumers. Here's a deeper dive into how phishing works and the different tactics scammers use:

• Impersonation: Phishers often impersonate legitimate organizations that people trust, such as banks, credit card companies, popular online services, or even government agencies. They might use spoofed email addresses, logos, and official-looking language to appear genuine.
• Urgency and Fear: Phishing emails often create a sense of urgency or fear to pressure recipients into acting quickly without thinking critically. They might claim your account is compromised, there's suspicious activity, or you need to verify your information immediately.
• Malicious Links and Attachments: Phishing emails typically include malicious links or attachments. Clicking on a link might redirect you to a fake website designed to steal your login credentials. Downloading an attachment could infect your device with malware that steals information or gives the scammer remote access.

Mobile Text Message Scams: These add another layer of deception:

• Spoofed Numbers: Scammers manipulate caller ID to make text messages appear as if they originate from legitimate sources, lulling users into a false sense of security.
• Phishing via Text: Text messages might contain links that install malware or take you to fake websites designed to steal your personal or financial details.
• Smishing: These SMS phishing scams attempt to trick you into revealing sensitive information by creating a sense of urgency or panic.

Safeguarding the Most Vulnerable:
Children and the aged require special attention:

• Children: Their limited understanding and susceptibility to social pressures can make them vulnerable.
• Educate them: Teach them about online safety, critical thinking, and the dangers of clicking on suspicious links or sharing personal information.
• Monitor Activity: Monitor their online activity without being intrusive, and have open conversations about online safety.
• The Aged: Seniors can be targeted due to social isolation, limited technical knowledge, or anxieties about finances or health.
• Support and Awareness: Help them stay informed about online threats and encourage them to be cautious of unsolicited messages or offers.
• Consider Security Tools: Explore parental control features or other security tools to provide an extra layer of protection.

Remember: A vigilant online presence is key. By fostering awareness, implementing robust safety measures, and practicing responsible online behavior, we can turn the tide against these digital threats and cultivate a safer social media and mobile experience for everyone. Let's work together to keep the "dark web" at bay and ensure a brighter online experience for all.
Conclusion and Summary:

• By working together, consumers and businesses can combat brand impersonation and create a safer online environment for everyone.
• By being proactive and building strong relationships with their customers, brands can minimize the damage caused by fake social media accounts and foster long-term brand loyalty.
• By building a strong foundation of trust with genuine customer reviews and actively addressing both positive and negative feedback, businesses can minimize the impact of weaponized reviews and maintain a positive online reputation.
• By being aware of phishing tactics and exercising caution, you can significantly reduce your risk of falling victim to these scams. If you suspect a phishing attempt, report it to the sender's legitimate organization and delete the email immediately.
• By equipping children with the right tools and fostering open communication, we can help them navigate the social pressures of online life while protecting their privacy and safety.
• By working together and providing the right support, we can help seniors navigate the online world safely and confidently.
• By addressing the Tech Savvy Gap and providing the right kind of support, we can empower seniors to navigate the online world with confidence and minimize their risk of falling victim to online scams and threats

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Chapter 5 - Clash and Retreat

The room was distressingly silent for how many people were present. At the head of the meeting table was Tiri, staring intently at the video being projected on the screen in the far side, to his left was a venlil and a takkan, to his right were two venlil.
The screen shows a video of the lobby of the Cloud Inn. It continues for about a minute, but the detail they had been looking for becomes apparent. “Hard to notice in the video, yes, but the metadata doesn’t lie. This was tampered” a human voice echoes, caller unseen as his view is obscured by the video.
To the left of the precinct chief was his second-in-command and the chief of the police. The takkan lowers his head in his paws, rubbing the bridge of his snout “I can see the clock looping, and the one who saw the stranger is never there… Why’d this have to happen right now?” he sighs and looks up “We’re not ready for this, at all”
“Nobody is” says the venlil at his side “But we’re going to have to be” Tiri’s second adds “I suppose we should get the place locked down and start looking for… Something?” he sighs
Tiri taps his claws in the desk “We’ll have to figure out what to look for. I’d say this isn’t exterminator work anymore, but for now we’re all together on this. Someone went in to threaten Kenim, and he seems to believe it’s real.”
The three turn to look at the venlil on the chief’s right. "We did have to deal with something… Somewhat like this before. Twice.” Aren starts “We’ll help, it’s what we’re here for, but it’d be good to have someone coming along”
With a few signs of agreement the five stand up and the takkan walks over to the other side of the table “Right, forgot to introduce myself earlier. Dorn. Since we don’t have anyone with the skillset, I’ll be sending my second-in-command, lieutenant Akathun. He might not know what to do but his nose should prove useful.” he offers an earflick.
“Any help is appreciated, what do you mean his nose?” Marik asks as they start making their way out of the room.
“Tulsek are a rare sight out of their world, but their nose is unmatched. I hear a rumour not even the arxur can track as well as they can”
The trip is short, right out of the meeting room Dorn waves over at someone before leading the pair to the armoury. There they meet someone- a biped that is just shorter than Aren, a dark tan color and seemingly furless with how sparse it is, a flat circular nose on their snout that twitches now and then “This is Akathun. Ak, those are Marik and Aren from the Blackriver precinct, you’ll be helping them out for now”
The tulsek twitches their long right ear forward in agreement “Fine by me. What’s the plan?”
“First step is going back to Cloud Inn and see if we can find something else.” Aren starts as Akathun reaches behind a counter to pick up what seems to be a baton “Since Kenim is still staying in there hopefully things haven’t been too disrupted yet.”
It wasn’t long until they were in the car “Hope the break room wasn’t too bad, by the way? You’ve been here for over a paw already”
The black venlil in the back seat sighs “Did the job.”
It doesn’t take much longer until they finally reach the Inn again, and soon they step out of the car. The entrance of the Cloud Inn, however, is unlike how it was the previous paw. It is empty, and more importantly, dark. Sharing a momentary look the three approach the front desk, barely illuminated from a beam of sunlight from outside.
“Nobody here…” Marik says before walking around the desk to check “I’m getting a bad feeling” he twists his ears at Aren as he scans around.
“Blood…” at the whisper, Marik turns to their tulsek reinforcement. His nose is twitching “Venlil, takkan… Oh kha-taul, it’s strong…”
In response, Aren produces a flashlight from a pocket and unholsters his tranq pistol, with a silent tap of his tail the three start to proceed towards the corridor, heading further inside with Akathun staying a step behind them. It doesn’t take long until the flashlight in Aren’s paw finally finds something. Past the corner was an open door and just barely visible in the beam of light- An orange stain.
Cautiously approaching it soon becomes obvious what the door is, the elevator. And the stain makes its source obvious as the flashlight follows its trail: Propped against the wall is a body, a single clear bullet wound in the head, orange long since stopped dripping. A second body is on the floor, two bullets in the chest. “Not again…” Marik mutters.
Carefully, the two venlil kneels down beside the bodies, inspecting them without touching for a while until Aren points his flashlight at… Something. He gently picks up what appears to be a small fragment of wood, the flashlight showing a scattering of wood chips badly misplaced inside a fully metallic elevator. They stare at them for a few seconds before suddenly light floods around them, causing them all to stand back up.
A few tense seconds pass until heavy footsteps can be heard, Aren and Marik step in front of Akathun, pistols raised, until they see what arrives. The heavy suit adorned in red that crosses the corner causes them to lower their weapons, the tierkel’s heavy breathing hitches and stops for a moment at the sight of the bodies “Y-you’re here…”
Her eyes are frantic, her breathing tense. “It-it took me a while to get the lights back on- I- I was locked in the room, we couldn’t get the phones-” she shakes her head, before pulling up a holopad “L-look, the cameras”.
The holopad is already showing a few screens with the output of cameras. The time markers on them show they’re all of the present, and all they show is the lifeless trail of corpses in the upper floor, all of it leading to an open door. There was no need to consider what would be behind that door, he had made sure to warn them what was going to happen last paw.
But among the screens there was one odd one, the only one showing a recording of the past instead of a stream of the present. In there, someone familiar is staring directly at the camera, a short and stubby snout with cuts and scars, lips spread to an aggressive display, his teeth including a pair of sharp incisors and long ears with rounded ends. A distressingly alien expression, in a body unfit for it. A threat.
In a matter of seconds the tulsek officer had backed away, frantically tapping away at his own device “How long ago was this?” Marik asks the manager.
“Not long- Less than a claw” she gets her holopad back from the officers.
A couple of steps behind them Akathun’s voice can be heard “Brother stay home. I don’t care about the job. If anyone asks, say it’s an order from the police!”
Meanwhile, the two venlil stare at each other. The first one to speak up is Marik “We need to find them, fast… But the cameras are already unreliable, and given no panic outside likely nobody saw them leave either”
“Anything out of place here should be a hint then…” Aren turns an ear over to the direction of the elevator. A couple of seconds later they stiffen “There was one thing” he holds out a small fragment of wood that he had collected.
He thinks for a few seconds in silence, his partner just staring at him, until he pulls out his lighter. The green flame gets brought closer to the wood fragment in his paw until it starts to smoulder and eventually ignites. After a second more staring Aren finishes his analysis “Aramek wood. It’s a nightsider, doesn’t grow here.” He clicks the lighter closed, blowing the light flame on his paw off “The elevator was metal, it didn’t get knocked loose in the fight. That guy was wearing construction gear, also a toolbox.”
“There were marks fitting the toolbox in the face of one of the bodies”
“Near where the wood shavings were, yes.”
Marik takes a deep breath “So they got knocked loose from the box? Is there a construction site that would use imported wood here?”
“No” finally done with his call, Akathun walks closer “They try to only use local stuff here… But there is an old wood mill spinwards, venture project, never went anywhere and it’s been abandoned for years”
They do not tarry in contemplation, quickly returning to their car with little more than a command for the manager of the Inn to not allow anyone to disturb the corpses. Once in the vehicle, Aren starts speeding as Marik hands his pistol over to Akathun “Here”
“What about you?” the tulsek officer worries as he checks the weapon. A tranquilliser pistol barely seems like a useful tool against something, someone, that caused that much bloodshed alone.
Once, the noise of something metallic opening “I got my hunting rifle” clack again the noise of the weapon closing.
The rest of the trip remains a silent affair, the car travels through roads until the asphalt becomes dirt. Trees far too young and evenly spaced to be natural hide the distant silhouette of a building, the car stops a good distance away as the three step out of the vehicle.
-*-
“Incoming.” Came a voice, announced over the subdermal radios. “Intelligence room’s been rigged.” He added. I peered through the window at the incoming vehicles, screeching to a stop. My ears instinctively swept back in that ‘negative’ expression. Hah, it seemed like that venlil was a better teacher than I initially thought her to be.
“Understood, overseer in place.” Another said as I massaged my wrist, instinctively grasping at the handle of the scythe knife affixed to my vest. Another hand went to feel my autogun, then my knife hand snuck down to reach for my mask, preparing myself to stick my gun out the window and open fire. I paused.
No.
Death is an old friend. You don’t introduce someone you care about with a letter.
You do it face to face.
“Engaging.”
A thunderous crack. Our opponents were alerted.
I relinquished my grip on the mask and gun, moving back up to the knife. Quietly, I unsheathed it before bounding to my right, hopping out the window and into the brush, eyes locking on one particular victim. This person looked like they could fight. Perhaps this would be fun after all.
-*-
Aren and Akathun both ready their tranq pistols, behind them Marik keeps his rifle just slightly lowered as they move forward. The black-fleeced venlil keeps his ears alert, listening to any strange sound “What… There’s… Blood in here… And… Accelerant? Some vola-” the tulsek’s voice vanishes from Marik’s mind as something else calls his attention, a light rustle, and he begins to turn his face to look.
It takes but a moment, at the edge of his color band a distant shape moves, something vaguely resembling a person under a blanket, and a long object… But as his eye focuses on it the entire thing vanishes- Aside from the glint of metal. In the span of a breath he paws hurl him forward, left arm shoving Aren into the ground, right arm grabbing at Akathun’s as he dives to the ground.
He does not stop to consider the wet feeling on his back, he simply crawls as fast as he can to a nearby tree, the tulsek’s screams of pain in his ears. Pressing his back against the tree he finally turns around to look at the situation. Akathun lies on the ground, left arm missing completely, a scatter of indigo painting the teal foliage. A short distance away, Aren’s flat against the ground and hidden behind a rock. Before his partner can act Marik shouts “Don’t move! Bait!”
For a few seconds, there are no sounds in the wind… Marik lowers his body to the ground and gets down on all fours, slowly crawling through the underbrush between trees until he reaches the next one. Carefully, he peeks out his rifle’s tip through the foliage, looking through the scope… He sees nothing for a moment until a very recent memory strikes him- He tilts his head just slightly, to put the scope out of his color band. In shades of black and white he sees it, something vaguely person-shaped and what is quite obviously the barrel of a gun.
The barrel moves, so he moves faster. He lets off a snap shot, before quickly moving to scurry away, hoping to have hit the minuscule target in the distance. The tree he had been hiding behind erupts into splinters as whatever ammunition that demonic rifle was using tears into it like a tank shell. Sliding to a stop behind another tree he loads another cartridge- But another sound distracts him. A venlise bray and an alien growl, followed by the muted hisses of a pressure pistol.
His heartbeat spikes and his body moves on it’s own. He turns around, exposing his body and rapidly scanning ahead, he brings his rifle up and fires another snap shot where he guesses the opponent shooter is a mere moment before he sees the flash of his opponent’s weapon fire. He jumps backwards as he loads another charge, in time to avoid the splinters from his previous cover being eviscerated. He hits the ground and rolls, aiming now at a different position- Where he had heard the bellows before. In there are two people, and he doesn’t have time to see where his shot lands when he fires before he needs to run again.
-*-
“I’m letting him scream. Claw. Go.”
Thank you, Angel. I giggled lightly as the fighter approached the collateral, arm torn to pieces by my commander’s shot. Slowly, I rose from my crouched position, before brandishing my knife like an antlion does so its fangs, rushing my opponent with a wondrous, near fervent smile.
---
Aren looks out carefully from his cover behind the rock, one eye focused on the bleeding tulsek and another scanning for whatever might have caused that to begin with. When he sees a trace of green light appear he takes it as sign to act and dashes out of cover- His aim the fallen officer. But his situational awareness warns him of something, causing him to abort that plan and turn aside.
What he sees is exactly who they had come for- The same man from the recording, the same one he’d seen in the construction uniform, but this time his expression isn’t wrong, like how it was before. The bared teeth speak of true and terrifying glee and the long curved knife on their right hand speaks of ill intent. For the span of but a thought Aren considers drawing his pistol, but the man is approaching fast, too fast-
Something in the man’s movement shifts, his body’s center of gravity going lower for a moment- Letting his animal drive take control, Aren follows as it instructs and steps forward towards the man once, before lowering himself the same. The incoming leporid suddenly vaults forward, twisting midair to aim both feet forward, moving at tremendous velocity-
But Aren’s own natural drive guides him in a similar strike, with less forward momentum he jumps, twists and kicks- Feet and paw connect with enough force to send both combatants flying off of each other, the grinning unknown twisting in the air and landing on his feet while Aren barely recovers in time to land in a crouch. He remains crouched with a grimace as he finally draws his pistol, forfeiting precision he squeezes the trigger quickly as he tries to adjust his aim.
The stranger prefers to indulge in melee, however, and dashes towards him. He leaps left and right as he advances in bounds, dancing around Aren’s attempt to track his with his pistol until he finishes closing in the distance and swipes his leg at the weapon. Without trying to fight for it Aren rolls backwards as the gun goes flying, finally capable of jumping to his paws, just in time to block the incoming swing of a knife by stepping in closer and impacting his wrist against the stranger’s. His subsequent attempt of an upward swipe with the opposite paw frustrated by the stranger’s quick backstep.
The leporid stranger emits a chittery mumble “This one’s fun. Let’s make this a long one.” before leaping forward again. Aren tries to take a step back to keep distance but the stranger extends forward with a perfect match, stepping in close and bringing his knife in an upwards arc. Though there is but a drop of orange on the tip of the blade, the follow-through elbow under the chin sends Aren reeling backwards, his discombobulated state preventing him from noticing as the stranger spins in place to deliver a powerful kick to his chest all in a single fluid motion.
Stumbling backwards, Aren lashes his tail left and right to keep balance, avoiding a topple by the barest of measures. The two combatants stare at each other for a moment… Aren can feel the dizziness setting in, the pain in his breath- He lowers his stance as the stranger sprints forward again, ducking down under a high swipe of the knife he pushes his body forward, grabbing the stranger’s waist with his right arms.
Before he can do further, Aren feels an impact on his spine- Once, twice as he continues to push and when the third impact takes too long to arrive he quickly shoves his paw against the body of the aggressor, stopping his momentum and pushing upwards with his entire body, tilting the leporid in the air, over him and behind him. He turns around in time to see the other man land on the ground with a small wobble. The maniac shakes his head slightly, but undeterred he steps forward again.
Aren steps in again to meet the challenge, the low knife swipe is just a little slower than it was before giving him time to swat it at with his tail before extending his right claw forward towards the man’s abdomen. The move is easily countered by a simple grab, his arm is held in place as the opponent raises his knife again- Aren reaches up with his left and grabs at the hand holding the knife, awkward grip earning him a shallow cut between fingers. Using the leverage of their combined weight his enemy makes a small backwards motion, spinning them both in place- And a sudden thunderous noise interrupts the fight as dirt and splinters of stone shower them from below as something impacts the ground. A half-second later both combatants shove each other away as a trace of green light flies between them.
—
“No fun!” I chided in my somewhat fluent Venilese, beginning to hop from side to side as the other appeared to gaze at me with a strange mix of horror and attempted stoicism. “A gun? It’s like ordering takeout, no soul in it, is there?” I added.
I then rushed him, knife brandishing once again as he went to counter. Thrusting my knife with obvious intention, he managed to take the bait. As I made impact, elbow pressed to his neck, the knife was stopped by a grab to my wrist. Within the second, I adjusted my hold, spinning my wrist to hook the blade against the tendons that controlled the last few digits.
Tug. A delicious yelp of pain. His grip on my wrist failed as I followed up by grabbing the side of his head with the arm that pinned him, using the shock from the injury to pull him under my arm in a hold, exposing his throat.
Maybe not yet. Instead of going for the throat and ending this quickly, I wished to continue the fight. So, I simply let him go, allowing him to fall to the ground as I hopped backwards, weaving my body as another shot embedded itself into whatever might’ve been behind me.
“Claw?! What was that?!” A voice shouted over the subdermal communications. I snorted as I watched my opponent get up. I then got into a stance, making sure he saw me bob my head from side to side, ears loosely swaying along. Making sure he knew I enjoyed this.
“My first good fight in months, Angel. Don’t ruin this for me.” I said with a tad bit of a serious tone as the venlil’s eyes drifted to something they must’ve dropped during the fight. I rushed him again as he went for it.
The venlil was smarter this time, instead grabbing my forearm, pulling it in while raising a knee to my abdomen. I went with his movements, pulling myself out of its way as I spun around him, using that momentum to strike a punch into the hough of his steadying leg, sending him down. From there, he went to blindly elbow me, which I refused with a strike of my knife hand’s forearm, sending it away with a crack as I pivoted to his side, grabbing his head and sending a knee straight into his face.
The brutal impact sent him flying back as my ears picked out the subtle click of a trigger being compressed, dodging yet another glowing projectile.
The venlil grabbed at the dirt as he got up again, blood flowing from the corners of the mouth. Wow, tenacious, this one was. I smirked, as this time, he approached me. I welcomed it with a stance before immediately getting to work.
A hook to my face with his half-functioning hand. I denied it with a block with my knife hand, using my other arm to wrap about the back of his neck and pull him in for a knee to the gut. Once he was stunned, I pulled away slightly and sent my knife forward with unparalleled speed. The venlil had good reflexes, jerking his shoulder back and denying me of his artery. Must’ve seen my previous work.
However, it was hardly fast enough. The hooked end of the knife dug into his chest, dragging upwards fiercely before sending a deep slash into his chin. I followed it up with a downward slash to the shoulder, hitting its mark and digging right into the muscle, dragging downwards into the chest. Horizontal slash, along the chest. Another slash, right below it. The venlil then went for another hook with the other arm, which I caught.
For a microsecond, he must’ve caught the manic glint in my eye as I threw my knife hand up. That face contorted into horror as I followed with a set of lightning fast, zig-zagged slashes to the wrist, inner elbow and armpit.
Then, I slid my grip on his wrist away, which soon balled itself for a crushing hook to his face, smoothly followed by an elbow to the gut. I made a decent space with that strike, which I utilised by kicking him away with a jumping two-legged slam.
He was sent skidding across the ground. I rolled back and steadied myself on a crouch as another shot found its way to me, grazing my ear as I recovered from the unsteadiness that’d come from such a kick. Feeling the blood trickle down and the pain dancing through my nerves, I willfully ignored it as I approached the venlil.
“You’re good.” I complimented, crouching.
Wordlessly, the venlil then unpinned some kind of grenade, which soon erupted into a blast of gas. It was a gas that stung the eyes, stung the nose and had me cough and retch for a bit as he appeared to pick himself back up.
A shot rang out, from much closer this time. Shit. He must’ve been using his gun. I sheathed my knife, turning around and retreating as the shots followed after me, one of them finding its mark in my shoulder, throwing it forward for a moment.
As I ran towards the safety of the dark industrial building, a gleeful smile found its way to my face. What a good fighter!
Someday, I’ll have to come back for him.
See if this experience taught him anything.
-*-
To be both the hunter and the hunted, there is a certain exhilaration to this. Blood pumping loudly through his ears, he realises that maybe, in the right conditions, he might even enjoy the experience. But not with everything that is on the line right now, not when real blood is on the line, not when his herd is in danger- There is no place for enjoyment in this situation.
Forcing his small claws in the bark of the tree, Marik carefully makes his way up before quietly balancing himself on top a branch- He will be gone in a second. He brings up his rifle, takes in a breath and aims- For a second he scans ahead, the monochromatic ghost had moved from the foliage where he was to behind a rock to the left. He swings his rifle sideways and moment the front aligns with his target he presses the trigger, the silent acceleration barely felt, and leaps off of the branch. The shower of splinters behind him declaring how dangerous every perch becomes.
His right knee complains badly as he lands hard but he continues for two more steps before diving into a bush again and crawling a little further. He stops and sweeps his his rifle to the side again, an intake of breath and a blur of black, white and color is all that his eyes process but instinct drives his aim- A low-heat shot flies through the air impacting a tree behind Aren and the stranger as a small crater opens behind the stranger from his own opponent’s strike- Clack open the rifle, dirty charge, sweep right- He rolls to the side and adjusts his aim again, firing through the shower of dirt that the tank-killer round causes by his side.
He rolls back and into his paws as he begins loading another charge, he sprints for just a short while before slowing down greatly, he ends behind a tree and is rewarded with the opposing shot landing a few paces ahead of him, he turns around the tree and makes a guess of where he’d find his foe- The ghost sniper’s monochrome silhouette has the vague form of a monstrous rifle aimed elsewhere and he knows where it is, he has to fire too quick to land an accurate shot and has to hope the verdant trace of supersonic plasma distracts their aim at the very least.
He quickly dives out of the way as he sees the opponent start to move again, and stays in place for one, two, three heartbeats before continuing to crawl forward. Holding his breath he listens to the clashing and grunting of the melee combatants for a while until he finally finds cover behind a rock barely as tall as he is when laying down. He focuses his aim at Aren and the stranger fighting, closely locked in a mortally intimate embrace, he pulls his aim up but a noise tickles at his right ear- He forfeits absolute focus on his quarry and perceives to his side a dread glint of another scope- A gamble, whose trigger is faster? He squeezes the trigger as fast as he can tumbles backwards.
The rock shatters into small fragments, and Marik has the chance to witness the leporid warrior simply take the dirty plasma shot through their ear with no reaction. But his herd is still in danger, he can’t care about it right now. “Guess I know what the other side of the scope feels like now…”
He pulls out the charge at the top of his bandolier, highest temperature dirty plasma charge, and chambers it. He throws himself on the ground again and claws his way through the underbrush and peeks through the leaves again- But he cannot see the monochrome ghost… He frantically searches for a few seconds- Had his opponent finally realised that whatever mystery tool he was using had the opposite effect on him? He continues to scan carefully, but with his color band instead… And he sees it.
A glint, a single spark of light. In a flash of movement he steadies his rifle, brings it up and fires.
Through the air sails two deadly tools- A heavy, pointed piercer propelled by enough explosive force to punch through the armored veil of a war machine, built in heavy metal and machined to perfection. A spiralling cloud of shredding metal dust embedded in plasma hot enough to metal through, all propelled at hypersonic speeds. Their user’s aim equally perfect, their users’ target each other’s own tools of destructions.
The collide midair, the anti-tank round’s careful machining ablated to pieces, the dirty plasma’s containment field disrupted, the bullet’s course deviated by thermal energy and the plasma bolt’s shredder dispersed through kinetic energy. For a moment only the elongated trail of green plasma and red-hot metal a sign of the weapons’ discharge.
It all plays out in the span of a single breath, and the impact hits. The weakened bullet’s course deviated just slightly, from the scope sight to a few millimetres to the side it impacts the accelerator rails of Marik’s hunting rifle, the metal absorbing most of the energy and bending inwards, a great deal of the remaining energy absorbed by the polished wood of the stock which shatters into splinters sent flying up the side of the gunner’s face, the last few joules dispersed through his shoulder into bruising pain.
Falling backwards Marik quickly scrambles for cover again and look at Aren- He sees him drop down an object and the other combatant runs away. If they are retreating then- He finally takes a risk and starts running ahead, not towards his companion but the still agonizing Akathun on the ground, who’d been left to witness the duel as he bleeds out “Aren, get back!”.
But Aren does not respond “I lost my rifle, they got a shooter!” he howls as he drags the downed officer back into cover. But the only response he gets from his partner is movement- But not the direction he expected it.
-*-
Whoever their shooter was, their aim was true. The rounds had hit each other. I ejected the spent round from my longrifle as I peered at the suppressor. The plasma - or whatever the fuck the other had shot - had torn through the suppressor and barrel, rendering my prized rifle inert. I decided to withdraw from my position.
“Claw, Recluse. Status?” I called into the subdermal communications as I backtracked into the mill, cloak draped over my back as I carried my rifle along with me.
“Entering the shuttle. The documents we weren’t able to scan in time are all here.” Claw said with a slight pause. “Ern is here too.” I gave a nod, only to reassure myself as I darted through the corridors, sunlight creating small pockets of yellow in the omnipresent shadow which served as my cover.
“Central command’s been cleared out. Tossed a white flame in there, nothing left. I’ll keep them off your tracks.” Recluse spoke with steely resolve as I made my way up some stairs, hearing the thundering of the man’s heavy weaponry as it shook and rumbled the very foundations of the building.
“Get to the shuttle if you can.” I said, coming out on an elevated section of land, where an out-of-place spacefaring craft had been sitting. It was draped in foliage and dirt, seeming almost like a part of the old mill as I bounded in, dropping my gear. Claw greeted me in the pilot’s seat as I did so, Ern positioned further to the side in one of the passenger’s seats.
“I cannot. See you soon.” Recluse responded. I gave a frustrated punch to the solid interior wall of the shuttle, cursing lightly under my breath.
“Claw, start the ship. Cloak it. We’re leaving.” I grumbled. With nary a word, not even a light snort, the operative prepared the launching sequence, door shutting and cutting off the golden rays that poured into the ship.
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Oops, apparently the chapter we wrote is just THAT BIG and just one post won't be enough~ Turns out writing with someone else is just that fun.

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Datsot

Longclaw Commander Skhork peered through his scopes at the endless, soggy sea of marshland stretching out before him. It seemed like the swamp had swallowed up the world, with not even a hint of dry land in sight. They had seen nothing else out here for dozens of kilometers.
His Gunner, peering through her own scope, chimed in with a mix of boredom and disbelief, “Nothing but endless predator swamp, huh?”
“We should be hitting the outskirts of their city soon. But yeah, just mud for now,” Skhork grumbled, his gaze not leaving the scope.
“I don’t remember there being so much swamp on the original maps,” the Gunner mused.
“There wasn’t,” Skhork muttered, half to himself. “This whole area was supposed to be dry as bone this time of year. The Lesser Predators have a dam upstream, and they opened it to flood the whole area around us to complicate our operations.”
The Gunner managed a shrug, even in the cramped quarters of their Longclaw. “Well, it worked. Half our logistics trucks are stuck back at the forward base without anti-grav. At least our Longclaws aren’t afraid of a little mud.”
“For a little while anyway. We should have a much easier time once we get to the roads. We’re just a little behind schedule for now.”
“Good to hear,” the Gunner said. “I pick up signals now and then from our holdout troops in the city, still holding their ground. Maybe if our assault goes well enough, we can link up to them and evacuate their—”
A loud, distinctive whistle sliced through their chatter and Skhork watched in the exterior camera as a large tree next to them exploded into splinters. Skhork instinctively shunted all non-essential power usage to the combat systems immediately. And with the press of a button, a dozen smoke grenades launched ahead of the Longclaw turret, forming a curtain of white smoke to block out the enemy vision.
“Enemy contact. We’re under attack,” he declared, the picture of calm as the crew sprung into battle-readiness.
“Searching for targets,” his Controller said, releasing a trio of the Longclaw’s reconnaissance drones into the air. Skhork watched as the other three Longclaws under his command did the same, the drones spreading out in search of infrared signatures in the area.
The Gunner and Engineer joined the search, their eyes glued to their screens, hunting for the source of the attack.
Another piercing whistle tore through the air, its shrill note cutting through the chaos. A deafening clang reverberated through the Longclaw’s hull, shaking Skhork to his core. For a fleeting moment, the merciless assault on his eardrums rendered him deafened and disoriented. But, as a battle-hardened Znosian Marine, he swiftly regained his composure.
Turning his attention to the damage control board, Skhork’s crimson eyes narrowed as he surveyed the aftermath of the hit. Relief flooded his veins as he saw the reassuring diagnostic report: the Longclaw’s thick composite armor had deflected the enemy’s deadly projectile.
“Fearless Platoon, everyone still alive?” Skhork barked into the radio.
“Fearless Two, here.”
“Fearless Three, here.”
“Fearless Four, here.”
“Good, did anyone see—”
“Found them!” his Controller interrupted with a triumphant shout.
Pressing a button, a flurry of false color heat signatures blossomed on their screens showing the enemies a few kilometers away: over a dozen armored vehicles at the edge of a clearing. Though invisible through the slowly dissipating smoke, they were accurately overlayed on the Longclaw’s systems through their overhead drones.
The enemy had previously been waiting, hidden in the foliage. As they watched, the enemy armor were now powering on their engines and moving into the open to get closer to his obscured Longclaws.
“Gunner, sabot, armor!”
“Up!”
“Armor identified! Range 3,200!”
“Ready!”
“Fire and adjust!”
Before he even finished his full command, his Gunner had acquired the first target, zeroed the gun, and launched the loaded anti-armor shell in the Longclaw’s breech. Skhork grinned as he watched the projectile penetrate clean into its target through the drone cameras above. The shell cut into it like a hot knife through lunch rations, detonating the enemy vehicle’s munition magazine, spreading its debris through the nearby sludge.
His Gunner selected another target and waited for the autoloader to transfer more shells from the magazine into the gun breech.
As Skhork activated another curtain of smoke in front of the Longclaw, the other Longclaws next to him also started to open fire, making sure to coordinate and mark their targets through the data-linked sensor system.
“On the way!” his Gunner yelled. The launch of another shell temporarily deafened the cabin again. Skhork watched as an incoming enemy munition chose this moment to barely miss them and hit the ground next to them, throwing up a cloud of mud and vegetation. When the noise subsided, he noticed on his screen that for every enemy vehicle they were destroying, another was emerging out of the forest to engage them. Some were pushing the wrecks of their dead comrades aside to get a clear shot at them—
“There are so many of them!” his Controller cried as another two enemy vehicles started firing, panic creeping into his voice.
“I’ve already called the fleet,” Skhork replied, staring at his screen at the confirmation. “We’ve got orbital support missiles incoming in about three minutes! We just have to keep them tied up for that long.”
The gun barked again. And again. Their hulls rang again as they were hit. Then twice. Both deflected. Due to the sheer volume of incoming fire, all his Longclaws took more hits, but unless his sensor was faulty, it appeared that none took any major damage.
Three minutes in battle did not feel like three regular minutes. He counted down the seconds remaining to the orbital support as he watched his crew efficiently eliminate as many of the enemy vehicles as they could while staying alive under the inaccurate but voluminous enemy fire.
“Incoming missiles in three… two…” he reported.
The imagery of their thermal sensors disappeared into a blinding flash of white light. The Longclaw’s computers quickly adjusted, and the scene reappeared: the enemies were gone, vaporized, as was most of the forest around them.
The shockwave of the explosion hit their Longclaw right on time, rattling their hull once more. A tree at the edge of the enemy clearing came crashing down on itself a few seconds later, still burning.
Then, silence.
“Fearless, status?” Skhork called again into the radio.
“Fearless Two, here.”
“Fearless Three, here.”
“Fearless Four, here.”
Skhork breathed a sigh of relief. He checked the Longclaw’s status: just under half ammo and power. “That could have turned out worse,” he muttered.
The Gunner chuckled. “Good thing their vehicle weapons are as underpowered as their fleet. A dozen hits in the platoon and zero penetrations.”
“Still,” Skhork said, his heart rate still recovering from the battle. “I hope we won’t have to test our armor out like that again.”
She nodded, adding, “And we got lucky their first shot wasn’t coordinated. If they all just sat there and opened fire together… who knows? We’d been hit more, and one of them might have done more damage.”
“I take full responsibility for failing to spot them in time, Six Whiskers,” his Controller said, finally finding the free time to do so.
Skhork nodded, acknowledging the mistake, but added, “I know you were trying to save battery for us; we’re using enough as is traversing the mud with our anti-grav. Just make sure to keep at least one drone above us at all times.”
The Controller nodded, programming the commands into his station.
“Now, Driver, let’s get back to base for a recharge.”
Skhork looked at the base logistics officer in dismay. “What do you mean, we don’t have enough for a full load?”
“We don’t have enough shells in this base to ensure that every Longclaw can get a full combat load at this time,” the officer repeated patiently. “Best I can do for you is eighty percent load, and… no replacement drones anymore. The other combat units took all the remaining drones they had.”
“Eighty percent?” Skhork gaped at him. “And no drones? We are a combat unit! We don’t operate at anything less than one hundred!”
The logistics officer said nothing, so Skhork continued, “Do you do your job at eighty percent? Do you think we can do our jobs properly at eighty percent?”
He only got a shrug in response.
Skhork sighed, calming down. “Are you responsible for this disaster?”
“Ten Whiskers Ditvish has already taken full responsibility for this supply shortage. Would you like me to as well?”
Skhork sniffed, “No, that would be unnecessary, but I thought we opened a corridor in orbit long enough to squeeze a few armored supply ships through.”
“Ah, you haven’t heard.”
Skhork shot back, “What haven’t I heard? I’m a Longclaw Marine, not some cowardly base sitter who has all day to gossip about trivialities.”
“We haven’t gotten fully supplied in two weeks. I heard… that four supply convoys have been confirmed destroyed before they reached the system,” the supply officer relayed in a slightly lowered voice.
“The Lesser Predators’ ships cut the Navy’s supply lines? Are you out of your mind?! Have you even seen these guys out there? They can’t even cut grass if they had an industrial weed-cutter!”
“Some are saying it’s not the Lesser Predators. Some are saying that this is the work of the Shadows.”
“The Shadows?”
“Shadows, Phantoms… the Great Predators,” the officer almost whispered the last one.
Skhork snorted. “Hatchling’s tales. You guys should really get out more; staying in the base all day must have addled your minds. These excuses of yours get more absurd every day… Whatever. Just tell me when you have my shells for me, or you might soon find yourself being called to take responsibility for my unit failing to accomplish our missions.”
Ditvish’s face betrayed little of the annoyance he felt as he received the unexpected call from his communications officer in his quarters. “What’s the matter?”
“There’s a call for you from… possibly Grantor, Ten Whiskers.”
“Possibly Grantor?”
“The caller identifies herself as from Grantor Security Station,” the officer elaborated. “But according to our FTL radio’s triangulation, she is calling from another system much closer to us.”
Ditvish wiped away all traces of sleep from his mind as he sat up. “Put her through immediately.”
The soft voice of his nightmares came through his headset, and he felt ice in his veins. “Ten Whiskers Ditvish, I hope you remember me from our last conversation.”
“Of course, Grantor Security Station Director… I forgot what your name was. I apologize and take full responsibility for my forgetfulness.”
“Lie to me again, and you’ll find out what happens to apostates of the Prophecy, Ten Whiskers. I know that after our call last time, the first thing you did was to discreetly have one of your underlings follow me from Grantor to find out who I really was. He was good, but you Navy hatchlings are all the same: blunt instruments with no appreciation for the real art of subtlety and surveillance… I was all too happy to complete his education.”
The five whiskers he put on the task had indeed found out who she was: an agent from State Security, but he disappeared immediately after reporting her name and position.
“I apologize for that too… Agent Svatken, but I had to be careful that there were no enemy infiltrators in our ranks, especially after what happened to Atluftrosh’s raiding fluffle.” He hesitated but added, “Is— do you know if my subordinate is still available for future service to the Prophecy?”
Svatken brushed his apology aside without acknowledging it. “Your minion still draws breath if that is what you are asking. You can have him back after I decide I’m done having fun with him. But enough about my new pet. I am calling to inform you that I have determined that what happened to your raiding ships was not the work of enemy infiltrators, Ten Whiskers.”
“If not infiltrators, did you determine what was the cause of their destruction?”
“The same as those four recent missing supply convoys of yours, I expect.”
Ditvish had to close his mouth to stop himself from panting out of nervousness. They have not yet discovered much there, either. Supply convoys don’t just get wiped out by predators, leaving behind only debris and scant few traces of what happened. Especially not four supply shipments in a row. Nobody higher up had noticed yet, but he was going to have to report it soon when it started impacting his offensive operations on Datsot. It wasn’t like he was hiding failure; no, that’s not a very Znosian way of doing things, but there would be questions about how proactive his bookkeeping was if things continued. “How do you know about those, Agent Svatken?” he asked with a dry mouth.
“Why do you think I’m running around in the middle of nowhere, Ten Whiskers? I was just recently in the Malgeir system of Preirsput, and to my surprise, there is a lot more friendly debris here than I would expect from a competent commander of the fleet. So — and I’ll ask only once more — what happened, Ten Whiskers?”
“It seems our supply convoys are being hunted by ships from the Sixth Fleet of the Lesser Predators, including her flagship: the one they call the Oengro,” Ditvish replied miserably. “But that should not be possible. We saw them retreat towards Malgeiru after leaving Datsot to defend their home system!”
“Don’t be stupid,” she chided. “Ships can turn around in space.”
Ditvish bowed his head. “Anyway, that’s not the most important part. This is: from what we have discovered about the enemy from a survivor we picked up in one of our lifepods, their ships have recently received radical upgrades to their tactical systems. We believe these systems are in the field of concealment and targeting, and while these advantages are tactical in nature, the effect they have on our operations is deeply strategic.”
“What you mean to say is that they will hit our supply lines again with their upgraded ships, and you need to request even more ships to defend them, pushing back our Datsot invasion timeline even more,” Svatken guessed sourly.
“That is our analysis as well and we’ve sent over what few telemetries we have from the raids so far to the Ship Design office. We were hoping they could get us some software updates to reduce some of these new disadvantages…”
Svatken thought for a moment. “My concern is more the source of these ship upgrades and the sudden change in behavior in these Lesser Predators than your software. If what you report is true, there has never been such a leap in their supposed capabilities since we discovered their existence. Since your fleet is at the front where you are most likely to find them, you are to report any anomalies that may contribute to our understanding of this new problem to my office.”
Ditvish bowed his head. “Of course, Agent Svatken….”
He hesitated for a couple seconds, then added, “I hate to spread baseless rumors, but some of my subordinates have speculated that this resembles the work of Phantoms, which is how they know how we operate so well. It’s all conjecture…”
“The Great Predators referenced in the ancient texts of the Prophecy?” Svatken asked. “That is indeed a convenient scapegoat, but in my department, we deal with hard evidence, not gossip.”
Technically, State Security also dealt with gossipers. Harshly, usually. But there was a distinction.
She continued, “Regardless, if you have any evidence to back up this hypothesis, no matter how circumstantial or thin, you are also to report them to me immediately. Is that understood?”
Ditvish once again bowed to signal his acknowledgement as she hung up.
“Fstrofcho, have his precious five whiskers in the brig prepared and delivered to my quarters, for later tonight.”
“Yes, ma’am. Chemically drugged and cleanly shaved?”
“You know how I like him. And make sure to bring a roll of heavy-duty mechanical repair tape. I ran out in the middle last night and that was no fun.”
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Chapter 48: Outside the Box II

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. The new UI decided to fuck up the formatting on this one for some reason, so I had to spend like 20 minutes going through and fixing the paragraph spacing, and adding italics back. I've never had this problem before. If anyone knows how to fix it, please do tell.
My little break is over, and I've started writing again. Working on chapters 13 and 14 now. I'm very excited for these ones. I mean, heck, I've got a bunch of scenes that I'm really excited to write, (and eventually release).
Also, fun fact: Chapter 9, 10, and the yet unreleased 11 were originally meant to be one chapter, but it ended up being way too much to cover in 40k characters.
A big thanks to as always
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Chapter 10: The Brave and Respectable
- Memory Transcription Subject: Arlene Brandy, Human Refugee
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 19th, 2136
Oh fuck.
Oh shit, even.
I had never treated a panic attack before.
I had never treated an alien before. For anything.
For all I knew, he was having a post traumatic flashback.
Okay, okay, deep breaths, don’t panic. What do I do?
I know some people who have dealt with this. I should call them.
Stupid! My phone doesn’t work here.
Less thinking, more action!
Meba had just about collapsed on the floor, and was now a shivering ball of anxiety on the floor of the hallway.
If I had a nickel for ever- not the time!
I wanted to help, but would getting closer make it worse? Would touching him make it worse?
Fuck it.
I knelt down next to him. “D-deep breaths! Deep breaths!” I was probably failing to sound soothing.
I could go get help.
No. Don’t try to defer the responsibility, this is probably your fault. If they see a panicked human they’ll just run, unless I win the lottery and find someone without double triple PTSD from space lizards.
I waved my hands around, trying impotently to find something to do with them, and of course coming up empty. The only thing I thought of was to take off my coat and use it as a blanket, hopefully to stop the shivering. It made him look cuter, but didn’t help at all, apparently not lending any coziness to the poor fella.
What do you even do for something like that?
I looked in the dustiest annals of my mind, but found nothing about the subject. Probably an oversight, but I had never met anyone who had panic attacks. I cursed my whimsical nature and all the trouble it brought, then realized now was not the time to cope with theatrics.
“Buddy? You there? Talk to me?” He was unresponsive, mumbling something almost inaudibly. My heart was racing faster and faster. “Take deep breaths. Please?”
What calms me down? When I was little grandma used to sing to me. My stuffed animals also helped. Um… are ‘happy places’ a real thing? No, he’s unresponsive, stupid! Move!
I tried his apartment door, finding no purchase, next digging through his bag, pushing past the blood stained wool ball, and uneaten fruit and finding a little key ring with three keys. I rushed back to the door and tried the first. It didn’t open. The second also failed. And the third.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
I tried the first again, finding that I didn’t get it in all the way the first go. The door opened, free of creaks—thanks past me—and revealing his apartment. I went back to Meba, realizing that I didn’t know if I could lift him. Sure he was small, and mostly fluff, but everything was heavier on venlil prime. I crouched down by his side, which prompted a scream of horror from someone standing by the stairs. I thought about trying to explain the situation, but quickly dismissed the thought. I didn’t have time for this.
SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT
I tried to scoop him up in my arms, found that I couldn’t get a grip, adjusted, then eventually, after ruling out dragging, tried lifted with my legs for once, and heaving the shivering venlil up into my arms. I shuffled, almost stumbled into the apartment, laying him down as softly as possible on the first soft area I found: the couch. I put him in the recovery position like I was treating him for shock, even though I didn’t know if it was appropriate for this or if it would even work for his body. He curled back up almost immediately.
I realized I forgot to grab his stuff, so I sprinted back out into the hallway, almost slamming into the wall as I half slipped on the floor, grabbed the bag, rushed back inside and shut the door. He was now whimper-sobbing.
CRAP CRAP CRAP
I grabbed a cup from one of the cupboards, thanking the god of chance that his kitchen was organized in a somewhat similar way to mine. I got a cup of water, and brought it to the table, setting it down.
He’s not gonna be able to drink it. What am I doing?!
Panic was getting the better of me, so I pulled up my mask, and slapped myself on the cheeks.
I can do this!
I grabbed a pillow from the couch and put it under his head, then grabbing another and putting it in between his arms, hopefully helping to calm him down. And I was out of ideas again.
“Meba? Can you hear me?” I tapped him on the shoulder, eliciting a flinch and not much else.
I sat down next to him, biting my nails; something I hadn’t done since ninth grade. On instinct, I started stroking the fur down his back, hoping it would help. Somewhere in my mind were the lyrics to a lullaby, but I was having trouble reaching them. They had probably fallen in some crevice between sheep names and textbooks, or maybe they had decayed in the fridge. Underneath the floorboards most likely. And so they were.
I cleared my throat in that scratchy way you do when you’re not really sure if you should be clearing your throat at all.
“Y-you are my sunshine, my only sunshine You m-make me happyyyy when skies are gray You’ll never know d-deeeaaarrr, how much I love yoooouuuuu Please do not t-taaaake, my suuunnnshiiine aawwaaaaaaaaayyy”
My singing voice was not up to snuff. I was not a musician. I didn’t even sing in the shower except for when I listened to really sad music; i.e. not the type of stuff you try to sing well to.
How did that second verse go?
“The ot- the other night deeeaaarrrr, as I lay sleeeeepiinng I dreamed I hellld youuuuuu, inside my aaaaarrrrrmsss When I a-awoke deeeaarrr, I was mistaaaaakeeeen And I huuuuuunnnnnng myyyy heeeeaaaddd, and crriiiiiiiiiieeeeeeed”
“You aarrre my suuunshiiine, my only suuunshiine You make me haaaappyyy, when skiies are graaaaay You do not know dear, how much I looove youuu Please do not taaake, my sunshine awaaayy”
My throat would never be the same. Nobody give vocalists enough credit. I think something might’ve snapped. Meba was now breathing slowly, sleeping a hopefully dreamless sleep. I continued petting the fur down his back, more for me than for him. Then I remembered that he didn’t like being touched back on the tube, so I stopped. Now that the danger was averted, my mind instantly switched to snooping mode, almost, but not quite forgetting to hit me with a wave of fatigue, exacerbated by my poor sleep.
The cup of water was sitting on the table, along with a book titled—I had to pull out my phone and use a free-with-ads venlil script translator app that I downloaded earlier—‘Predator Psychology’ by ‘Lyran’. Fitting, I guess. If I was more bitter about it, I might have said something snarky, but honestly, I was used to the—to use a venlil phrase—predator shit.
It felt weird for there to only be one name. How many unique venlil names were there? Sensing the water cup mocking my inadequate linguistic skills, and also being so thirsty I thought I might pass out, I chugged the thing in one go—not a hard thing to do when every object is fun-sized—quenching my thirst.
Speaking of venlil, I wanted to know if he kept Alexander. After all, he was my first authentic alien creation. My quest ended shortly after I opened the bedroom door. On the shelves were more books, organized so well that even I could tell they were alphabetical, and I didn’t know the language. There were some trinkets, and statuettes, sitting in an area with Alexander.
“Ah! Arlene! My creator! I’ve been trapped on this infernal shelf for days! You’ve come to rescue me!” My exhausted brain was starting to think Alexander’s speeches were real.
I decided to humor myself. “Ah yes, the brave and respectable Alexander of Sunbrook. It seems your talents were not appreciated by our furry friend.”
“Yes! He’s left me here to rot! Do you think I could…?”
“Come with me? Sorry, no can do buddy. Meba needs you, he just doesn’t see it yet. I’m sure he’ll warm up to you in time.”
“Please? It’s so terribly dull on this shelf.”
“I mean it Alex. You need to be there for him, because he can’t be there for himself.”
“Then at least you could put in a good word for me? He’s not going to take me along without a push.”
A smile crept onto my face. “That I can do.” I picked him off the shelf and brought him out to the living room, where Meba was still snoozing. I placed Alexander in the nook of his shoulder. Then I grabbed my coat back, and replaced it with an actual blanket.
“W-wait!”
“Yes?”
“I-I’m scared. What if he discards me?”
“Do you know why they call you the brave Alexander?” The illusion was already fading. I would have to hurry. “It’s not because you aren’t scared. It’s because you still do what need to be done in spite of your fear. Now, you’re not mine anymore. You have to help him now.”
Alexander would smile if he had lips. “Thank you Arlene.” And the illusion dissipated, along with my energy.
Christ, my coping mechanisms are so weird.
I sat down on the floor, and rested my head against the couch. I had gone maybe 30 hours without a proper 8 hour catnap. Now felt like a good time. But now is fleeting, and I wouldn’t get the chance just yet.
Meba was stirring, eyelids fluttering, and limbs twitching. He groaned, a rather pained groan. ‘Wh- hwngnm’ is the closest text equivalent. Although a ‘Whabehnabg’ would also suffice as a stand in.
He made stretched out on the couch, almost hitting me in the face with his paws. I watched as he began to regain consciousness, ego reforming in whatever twisted dance it makes when the bliss of sleep is stolen, fur bristling like the soft waves of a lake, mind still yearning to go back to before it all, to before the nonsense of life grabbed at the ether to bring itself some unwilling company.
If you couldn’t tell by the flowery language, I was exhausted.
He blinked his eyes a few times to focus them, then looked around for a few seconds, eventually registering me.
I did not remember to lower my mask.
He startled.
I scrambled to hide my face.
He was going to say something.
There was a knock at the door.
A loud knock.
“Exterminators! Open up!”
My blood didn’t run cold. It stopped exactly where it was, almost ready to turn in the opposite direction. Before I could say anything, Meba sprung up from the couch, wiped his tears with the back of a paw, and grabbed my arm. He dragged me over to a closet near the bookshelf, opening the door and leading me inside.
“Open this door!”
“B-be quiet.” He whispered, closing the closet.
I nodded. Through the slits, I could see him going to the door, hesitating for a moment, paws shaking, before opening it. In the doorway stood two venlil in fire-retardant suits. They had flamethrowers. I stuck my knuckles in my mouth before I could make a squeak out of fear.
“Hello. Is everything alright officers?” Meba said.
The larger of the two exterminators pushed his way past Meba. “We got a report from one of the residents here saying that there was a predator abducting a venlil. They gave us this apartment number.”
“T-that’s horrible. But as you can see, I’m perfectly fine. N-no predators here.” Why did he have to add that last part?
The second officer entered as well. “Do you think it was a false report?”
“Doubt it.” He turned to Meba. “There is a human living in this building, isn’t there?”
“Er, yes, in the apartment across from me.”
The larger officer said something I couldn’t hear
“Y-yes. Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”
He said something else inaudible.
Meba replied with a similar whisper.
My eyes widened. He was selling me out, wasn’t he? I was going to die. Oh god. My breath hitched uncontrollably. I was going to burn to death. You don’t die from the fire, you die from suffocation, as your bones snap from your muscles drying and contracting. I knew this.
Why did I agree to live in this apartment building? So I could give someone else a space in the actual refugee center? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“You don’t mind if we come in and have a look, do you?” Said the second officer.
Oh god, Oh god. I’m going to die. Fuck. FUCK.
“There’s really no need. You should check the other apartments, the caller could have gotten the number wrong.”
“No, I don’t think that’s the case.” Said the larger.
Meba didn’t reply.
They both entered the apartment proper, looking around at everything for evidence. I didn’t leave anything that I knew of, besides the water cup, but that doesn’t say anything. They cleared the room, overturning furniture, opening even the smallest drawer, and treating his couch with particular disrespect, making their way closer and closer to the closet I was hiding in. My skin rippled with dread.
“W-would you like some drinks?” Meba asked.
“Why? I thought you wanted us to check the other apartments, get out of here faster?” Asked the second.
Meba froze.
I ran through my options in my head, blood pounding in my temples.
1: Run. I might be able to make it out of the apartment if I sprinted, especially if they were distracted when I burst out. But where would I go then? Could I sprint all the way to the refugee center?
2: Fight. Not gonna work. They have guns… and flamethrowers.
3: Stay. About to be redundant pretty fucking soon.
But you can do better than that, can’t you?
4: Hostage. When one comes near the closet, I could restrain them and use them as a hostage, maybe even use their gun to subdue the other. Could I actually pull this off? I didn’t know.
They were pulling books off the shelf.
5: Diplomacy. What would I even say? ‘Hi there, yes, I was hiding in a closet, but it was actually completely innocent. The abduction? I was helping him!’ I didn’t even know if Meba would agree with that.
6: Surrender. They’d just fry me, right?
The larger of the two was now walking in the direction of the closet. Meba was calling someone on his pad. Who would he call? Their manager?
7: Cry. This one seems pretty good actually.
“D-don’t open that!” Meba yelled.
“And why not?”
“Um… It has sensitive legal documents in it!”
“I’m just going to take a little peak.”
“N-no! I-I’ll sue the speh out of you!” His fur puffed up, running with nonexistent static.
“As an exterminator, I am well within my rights to search your apartment.” He reached for the door handle.
The call Meba was waiting on went through.
“Hi, yes it’s important. Two officers are here and their overturning my whole apartment!” He pressed the speaker button, and turned the pad around.
The closet door started to fold out. I prepared to tackle the officer, punch, kick, choke, claw, bite, whatever it took to keep myself at room temperature. I fingered a needle in my coat pocket, not sure if it would work as a weapon. In my desperation, through the slits in the door, my eyes located several blunt objects suitable for causing significant trauma; a heavy book, a lamp, a statuette. In the kitchen were knives, but that was too far for me to get to. My best shot was to put the main guy in a headlock, use him as a meat shield and steal his firearm, then I could make the other surrender and escape.
A voice boomed from the speaker, along with the image of a venlil in uniform. One which the officers recognized. “Okay pricks, badge numbers, now!”
Both of the exterminators froze, and sat slack jawed, gawking at the screen. “You conniving littl-” Spoke the larger, before the venlil on call cut him off.
“Shut it! Badge numbers, or I’ll have your asses suspended.” She said.
Both exterminators huffed. The large one closed the closet door.
“X01-F1-AG2.” Said the larger.
“X01-F2-B1L.” Said the other.
“Thank you, now stop harassing him go do your brahking job.”
The officers glared at Meba, before trudging out the door, shooting dirty looks back the whole time. I breathed a sigh of relief. Meba turned the pad back to himself.
“Now what the brahk did you do to get grunts at your door?” Asked the mystery venlil.
“Nothing! They just barged in talking about a kidnapping sighted at my apartment, which as you can see, is completely false.”
“We don’t send out teams for ‘nothing’. You should be careful, whatever human the caller saw might still be around.”
So he’s buddy buddy with an exterminator bigwig? That tracks.
“O-okay. Are you gonna…?”
“Reprimand them? Yes of course I’m gonna brahking reprimand them, that kind of behavior is a disgrace to the entire guild. What point is flipping your couch upsidedown supposed to serve?”
“Yeah…”
“What’s wrong? Did they hurt you?”
Meba stiffened. “N-no. You know, just a lot of confusion lately. There was that whole thing at city hall, and all the other stuff.”
“You heard about that, huh?”
“I got stuck in the crowd.”
“Is that what happened to your face? Brahking speh, how do you always manage to get yourself into so much trouble? Did you make it to the meeting? You still haven’t replied to my messages.”
Meba’s ears drooped, and he was looked almost as nervous as when we first met.
“Y-yes. I really should go, I have to clean this up.”
“How was it? Did it help?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you meet anyone nice?”
“Um… yes.”
“Really?” She sounded surprised.
“Y-yes! I’m having a meal with him in a paw or two.”
“That’s great. See, I knew you could do it, you just needed a little push. Pretty soon you’ll find a herd of your own.”
“Yeah…”
“Okay, I’ll let you go now, I got to get back to work. I’ll try to drop by your apartment sometime soon, we can have a drink or two. Buh-bye”
“Sure. Bye.” He hung up, and then sighed incredibly loudly, deflating onto his knees.
He soon stood up, and shut the front door, locking it with a frankly extreme amount of latches, bolts, and sliders. “You can come out now.”
I didn’t move, I was still gripping the needle in my coat pocket. My muscles were tense, and I was still ready to hurt someone. I wanted to hurt someone. My brain was playing reruns on old tapes of how I would pummel them, how I would destroy them, how I would make them feel the same way I did.
Helpless. Mortified. Regretful.
“Arlene?” Meba was standing near the closet door.
I wanted to prove them right. I wanted to crush them until nothing but dust and water remained, and my fists were caked with mud, to repay every injustice with the same tenfold—two wrongs don’t make a right, but have we tried ten?—to annihilate even the innocents for their impotence and inaction. In some part of my brain, some ancestral, primal piece of my mind wanted to destroy everything for what they did to us. For what they did to humanity.
“I-it’s safe now.”
But it wasn’t some ‘ancestral’ or ‘collective’ grief. It was just me, sitting in a closet, gripping a felting needle, blood boiling into new concoctions of hurt, of petty anger, and of second hand loss, scared of burning, scarred neurons. It was my anger, and mine alone, even if billions more felt it in parallel. Feeding it would do nothing to fix anything. It would only disrespect the one billion plus people who died, and the thousands that tried to stop it. But still, I felt it.
It hurt.
It burned.
I was really going to hurt someone.
I wasn’t a fighter. I couldn’t do this anymore.
I wanted to sink into the core of the planet, mixing into the iron alloy, where all my fear would disperse among impossible distances, watered down into no more than a whisper. I didn’t want to remember that I had things to lose. My grip on the needle loosened, and I put my arms around my knees instead. If I wasn’t so proud, I’d just come out and say I got into the fetal position.
My chest was tightening, but it didn’t compare to the stinging in my eyes.
You can’t cry. This is nothing compared to what others are going through. Stop.
Meba opened the closet door, floof still puffed out like a cat, revealing my pathetic state. “Are you… crying?”
And that was the straw that broke the camel’s back, heavier from the gravity and all. “Yes, I’m fucking crying! The big scary predator is crying! Do you know why? Because I’m fucking pathetic!” I shot to my feet, pointing my index like a shiv, inward rather than outward.
Meba flinched, his ears pinned back, and his breathing sped up. He didn’t run. “Y-you’re not pathetic.”
I started waving my arms around like a madwoman. “Yes! Yes I am! I can’t even articulate how fucking bullshit this is! I was one of the lucky ones! So why am I sniveling like a little kid, hiding in a fucking closet? I was going to hurt them!”
His eyes widened, and his legs twitched. “N-no, you wouldn’t d-do that.”
“I was going to kill them if I got the chance! I was going to enjoy it! I’m in the miniscule group that didn’t lose anyone, so why am I acting like I have it hard?! When there’s entire cities sitting sideways?! It’s a disgrace to the entire human race!”
He began to shake, eyes watering. “N-no… you don’t mean th-”
“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! You think I eat people! You don’t know anything about me! Why don’t you go run away, just like everyone else?” I ripped that stupid mask off my face, baring my teeth, maybe fangs by now; an unusual, yet perfectly comfortable arrangement for me at the moment.
He startled like a wild animal, and fled, but before he turned the corner, he stopped himself, forcing his eyes to meet mine. “No! I-I know lots about you! You’re kind! A-and thoughtful! And you g-gave me needles!” He was hyperventilating. “A-a-and! You’re m-my only real f-friend!” He finally lost control and ran away into some dark corner of the apartment.
Now look what you’ve done.
I crouched down and held my face in my hands, still ugly crying, counting the grains in the floorboards, the speckles of darkness, the twists in the rings, and the knots; the eyes. I always thought they looked like eyes.
You’re supposed to save this for the shower. This is what you get for singing.
“I’m sorry…” I whispered. He wouldn’t hear it. “This is all my fault. I should have just stayed on Earth.” I chuckled. “This sucks, huh? I’m pretty thin skinned I guess, if this is all it takes to break me.”
“T-that’s not true.” I raised my eyes to look at the source of the voice. A fluffy head was poking out from the kitchen, ducking back in when I saw it.
I faced the ground again. “I forgot your ears were so good.” I sighed “I’m just gonna… go, if you don’t mind. Maybe drown myself in that industrial cleaner you guys like to chug.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you to.”
“And what are you going to do to stop me?” I said, more irritated than I would like.
“I’ll charge you.”
“Then I’ll put you in a headlock.”
“You can’t leave while you have me in a headlock.”
He’s got me there.
“I guess we’ll see about that.” I stood up.
He popped his head out of the kitchen. I stared. He didn’t duck back in. I moved towards the door. He blocked my path. I ducked to the side, and he followed. I jumped back the other way, causing him to stumble. Almost at the door now, but he was running at me. I couldn’t get all the locks undone before he reached me.
Let’s see who’s chicken.
When I didn’t ready to catch, he faltered. As he got in arms reach, I went low, and using his momentum, scooped him up over my shoulder, carrying him like a log.
“Wha- that’s cheating!” He squirmed in my arms.
“There’s no rules in love and war.” I replied.
“I thought humans invented rules for war!”
He wiggled out of my grip, and managed to latch himself onto my back, putting me in a headlock of his own, putting way too much pressure on my arteries. I stumbled backward, having to adjust so I wouldn’t crush him. We were on the ground now, and he was still squeezing my neck like a stress ball. I tapped him on the arms, but the gesture didn’t translate.
“I-ack! Gi-ack-ve!” I wheezed.
Still, he was choking me. Panic was starting to set in, and he wasn’t letting up. I grabbed at his paws, gripping as hard as I could, eliciting a yelp of pain, and freedom. I pushed him off me, and coughed. We were both sitting on the floor.
“F-fuck man, are you trying to kill me?” I was panting.
He was panting too. “Sorry… I’ve never done that before.”
I was smiling, and I didn’t know why. “We’ll call that one a draw.” I laid down on the floor, facing the ceiling fan above us.
“You’re not going to keep fighting?”
I wouldn’t exactly call that ‘fighting’. Maybe ‘rough housing’.
I started laughing, first a little, then a lot, until my sides started hurting. Meba joined in, a little nervous at first, but then growing in confidence until his almost matched mine.
This is ridiculous. ‘Only friend’. Did he mean that?
Once I had control back over my diaphragm, I spoke. “I’m sorry for… all this.” I gestured to the scattered furniture.
“I’m sorry for treating you like an animal.”
I chuckled. “Same here, I guess.”
But he wasn’t finished. “No, I was trying to manipulate you. I thought you were only keeping me alive for wool.”
“Oh jeez. Well I’m glad you had a change of heart.”
“I’m still scared, but you’ve been nicer than anyone else I know. You’re eyes are… very intense.”
That reminded me. “Crap, where did my mask go?” I sat up.
“Ah! No, you don’t have to wear it. I’ll be fine. I think I can handle it now after the first time.”
I’m such an ass. And he just had a panic attack too, or whatever alien equivalent. And I was trying to scare him.
Guilt flooded my mind. “I’m so sorry. I really shouldn’t have said any of that. I was taking it out on you for no reason.”
“I-It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. You obviously have some sort of trauma going on, and I was intentionally trying to scare you. It’s not fucking okay. It’s horrible.”
“You were scared.”
“I was being dramatic.”
“I was scared. I thought they were going to kill you before I could apologize.”
“You shouldn’t have to comfort me.”
“I want to.” He scooted over to me and put his paw on my head, petting my hair. “This is how you do it, right?”
Oh my god, cuteness overload.
The violent impulses were back, but these were in response to something so adorable that I could just squish it into pulp, instead of from fear. I think my brain overloaded. Just to make it clear, it wasn’t very comforting, or it wouldn’t have been—paw pads are scratchy—if it weren’t for the fact that it was the most amazing misconception I’d ever experienced. I was ready to go into a coma from the pleasure of witnessing something so pure.
He removed his paw from my head. “Did it work?”
“I think I’m gonna die.” I said, when I meant to think it.
His tail drooped. “W-was it that bad?”
“No. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Please give me a moment, I think I might be having a heart attack.”
His eyes widened. “I thought cute was a good thing.”
“It is.”

Announcers

"Announcer: Dr. Kleiner"
"Announcer: Juggernaut"
"Announcer: Nature's Prophet"
"Announcer: Storm Spirit"
"Announcer: The Pirate Cap'n"
"Announcer: Axe"
"Announcer: Death Prophet"
"Announcer: Bastion"
"Announcer: Tuskar"
"Announcer: Pyrion Flax"
"Announcer: Defense Grid"
"Announcer: GLaDOS"
"Announcer: Trine"
"Announcer: Lina"
"Announcer: Clockwerk"
"Announcer: The Stanley Parable"
"Announcer: Techies"
"Announcer: Rick and Morty"
"Announcer: Bristleback"
"Announcer: Fallout 4"
"Mega-Kills: Juggernaut"
"Mega-Kills: Nature's Prophet"
"Mega-Kills: The Pirate Cap'n"
"Mega-Kills: Bastion"
"Mega-Kills: Axe"
"Mega-Kills: Storm Spirit"
"Mega-Kills: Pyrion Flax"
"Mega-Kills: Defense Grid"
"Mega-Kills: GLaDOS"
"Mega-Kills: Trine"
"Mega-Kills: Lina"
"Mega-Kills: Clockwerk"
"Mega-Kills: The Stanley Parable"
"Mega-Kills: Techies"
"Mega-Kills: Rick and Morty"
"Mega-Kills: Fallout 4"
"Announcer: Crystal Maiden"
"Announcer: Monkey King"
"Announcer: Kunkka & Tidehunter"
"Announcer: Meepo"
"Announcer: Dark Willow"
"Mega-Kills: Bristleback"
"Mega-Kills: Crystal Maiden"
"Mega-Kills: Monkey King"
"Mega-Kills: Kunkka & Tidehunter"
"Mega-Kills: Meepo"
"Mega-Kills: Dark Willow"

Arcanas

"Blades of Voth Domosh"
"Demon Eater"
"Fiery Soul of the Slayer"
"Fractal Horns of Inner Abysm"
"Frost Avalanche Bundle"
"Manifold Paradox Bundle"
"Swine of the Sunken Galley Bundle"
"Tempest Helm of the Thundergod"
"Flockheart's Gamble Bundle"
"The Magus Cypher Bundle"
"Feast of Abscession Bundle"
"Great Sage's Reckoning Bundle"
"Bladeform Legacy Bundle"

Immortal treasures

"Immortal Treasure I 2015"
"Immortal Treasure II 2015"
"Immortal Treasure III 2015"
"Immortal Treasure I 2016"
"Immortal Treasure II 2016"
"Immortal Treasure III 2016"
"Immortal Treasure I 2017"
"Immortal Treasure II 2017"
"Immortal Treasure III 2017"
"Immortal Treasure I 2018"
"Immortal Treasure II 2018"
"Immortal Treasure III 2018"
"Immortal Treasure I 2019"
"Immortal Treasure II 2019"
"Immortal Treasure III 2019"
(can have duplicates)

Old treasures

"Treasure of Molten Steel"
"Treasure of the Cannon's Fuse"
"Treasure of the Elemental Trophy"
"Treasure of the Forged Fury"
"Treasure of the Forgotten Myth"
"Treasure of the Frosted Flame"
"Treasure of the Glacial Abyss"
"Treasure of the Mender's Palm"
"Treasure of the Onyx Eye"
"Treasure of the Ram's Renewal"
"Treasure of the Rotted Gallows"
"Treasure of the Spring Blossom"
"Treasure of the Tangled Keepsake"
"Treasure of the Trapper's Pelt"
"Warhammer: Treasure of the Old World"
"Treasure of the Emerald Revival"
"Treasure of the Venerable One"
"Treasure of Unbound Majesty"
"Treasure of the Carmine Cascade"
"Treasure of the Azure Fervor"
"Treasure of the Wordless Trek"
"Treasure of the Tireless Crafter"
"Treasure of the Burning Grove"
"Treasure of the Distinguished Conqueror"
(can have duplicates)

Hero sets

"Acid Hydra"
"Adornments of Blight Set"
"Agaric Flourish"
"Alchemy Essentials Set"
"Alpha Predator Set"
"Ancestors' Pride Set"
"Ancestral Luck Set"
"Ancestral Trappings Set"
"Ancient Armor Set"
"Anointed Armor of Ruination"
"Araceae's Tribute Set"
"Arctic Hunter Set"
"Ardor of the Scarlet Raven Set"
"Aria of the Wild Wind Set"
"Armaments of Leviathan Set"
"Armor of Eternal Reign"
"Armor of Renewed Faith Set"
"Armor of the Sanguine Moon Set"
"Armor of the Stalwart Soul"
"Armored Exoskeleton Set"
"Armour of The Iron Drakken"
"Arms of Burning Turmoil Set"
"Arms of the Bladebreaker Order Set"
"Arms of the Bogatyr"
"Arms of the Bramble Lord Set"
"Arms of the Gwimyeon Warrior Set"
"Arms of the Onyx Crucible"
"Arms of the Penitent Nomad Set"
"Array of Tranquility"
"Arsenal of the Demonic Vessel"
"Artillery of the Crested Cannoneer Set"
"Artisan of Havoc"
"Aspect of the Year Beast"
"Aspects of Summer"
"Attributes of the Foretold Set"
"Augur's Curse Set"
"Azure Constellation"
"Balance of the Bladekeeper"
"Barathrum's Fury Set"
"Battleseeker Set"
"Battletrap"
"Bestowments of the Divine Anchor"
"Bindings of Deep Magma"
"Bindings of Enduring Torment Set"
"Bindings of Frost Set"
"Bindings of the Storm-Stealer Set"
"Bindings of the Trapper"
"Bird's Stone Set"
"Birot's Bindings Set"
"Black Blades of the Qaldin Assassin Set"
"Bladesrunner"
"Blaze Armor"
"Blessings of Lucentyr Set"
"Blessings of the Eternal Eclipse Set"
"Blessings of the Wildwing"
"Bloodmist Armor Set"
"Bloody Ripper"
"Bobusang's Traveling Necessities Set"
"Bonds of Vincere Set"
"Bones of the Slain Dragon Set"
"Cabalist of Dark Magic Set"
"Cadenza Magic Master"
"Carapace of the Hidden Hive Set"
"Caustic Steel Set"
"Ceremonial Carapace of Qaldin Set"
"Chained Mistress Set"
"Chained Slayers Set"
"Chains of the Black Death"
"Chains of the Summoned Lord Set"
"Champion of Discord"
"Cicatrix Regalia"
"Cloud Forged Battle Gear Set"
"Commander of the Dragon Guard Set"
"Councilor's Complete Raiment Set"
"Crescent"
"Cryogenic Embrace Set"
"Crypt Guardian's Set"
"Curse of the Malignant Corruption Set"
"Custom of Karroch Set"
"Cyclopean Marauder"
"Dame de Carreau"
"Dark Reef Escape"
"Dark Ruin Set"
"Dark Wraith Set"
"Darkness Wanderer's Armor Set"
"Dead Winter Set"
"Death Charge Set"
"Death Shadow Set"
"Deep Warden Haul Set"
"Delicacies of Butchery Set"
"Demonic Vandal's Set"
"Desert Gale Set"
"Dials of Claszureme Set"
"Dimensional Infestation Set"
"Divine Ascension"
"Dragon Forged Set"
"Dragon's Ascension"
"Dragonfire"
"Dragonterror"
"Dreadhawk Armor"
"Dressings of the First Light Set"
"Eki Spiritual Implements Set"
"Eldritch Ice Set"
"Eldwurm's Touch"
"Ember Crane Set"
"Ember Tipped Carapace Set"
"Embers of Endless Havoc Set"
"Emerald Frenzy Set"
"Empowered Vestments of the Gods Set"
"Enchanted Plate of the Crimson Wyvern Set"
"Engulfing Spike"
"Ensemble of the Crystalline Comet"
"Epitaphic Bonds"
"Equine Emissary"
"Eternal Nymph"
"Everlasting Heat"
"Falconer's Design Set"
"Fashion of the Scorching Princess Set"
"Fatal Blossom"
"Father of the Forest"
"Featherfall"
"Fire-Blessed Mail of the Drake Set"
"Firestarter"
"Flames of Prosperity Set"
"Flamestitched Suitings Set"
"Flight of the Crescent Moon"
"Flight of the Sparrowhawk Set"
"Forest Hermit Set"
"Foreteller's Robes Set"
"Form of the Great Grey Set"
"Formed Alloy Set"
"Forsaken Beauty Set"
"Frostiron Raider Set"
"Frostiron Sorceress Set"
"Frozen Emperor"
"Frozen Feather Set"
"Fungal Lord Set"
"Garb of the Cruel Magician Set"
"Garbs of the Eastern Range Set"
"Garments of the Nightsilver Sentinel"
"Gear of the Tally-Ho Hunter Set"
"Gemmed Armor of the Priest Kings Set"
"Ghastly Matriarch"
"Gift of the Sea Set"
"Gifts from the Gloom Set"
"Gifts of Fortune Set"
"Gifts of the Heavenly Guardian"
"Gifts of the Shadowcat Set"
"Glacier Duster Set"
"Gladiator's Revenge"
"Golden Reel Guardian Set"
"Guardian of Silence Set"
"Guise of the Winged Bolt"
"Harbinger of the Inauspicious Abyss Set"
"Hardened Hunter's Gear Set"
"Heart of the North Set"
"Heavy Armor of the World Runner Set"
"Heavy Barbed Armor Set"
"Heirlooms of Aeol Drias"
"Hell's Ambassador Set"
"Hidden Flower"
"Highborn Reckoning Set"
"Honors of the Golden Mane Set"
"Humble Drifter"
"Hunter in Distant Sands Set"
"Hunter of Kings"
"Hunter of the Blood Stained Sands Set"
"Hunter of the Red Talon Set"
"Hunter with No Name"
"Iceborn Trinity"
"Iceforged Set"
"Immemorial Emperor Set"
"Immortals Pride"
"Impending Transgressions Set"
"Imperial Relics"
"Implements of the Tahlin Watch Set"
"Instruments of the Claddish Voyager Set"
"Jewel of the Forest Set"
"Jewels of Teardrop Ice Set"
"Jini the Bright Moon Set"
"Keen Machine"
"Keeper of the Northlight Set"
"Legacy of Infernal Wings"
"Legacy of the Awakened Set"
"Light of the Solar Divine"
"Lord of the Scouring Dunes"
"Malicious Efflorescence Set"
"Master Weaver Set"
"Mentor of the High Plains"
"Might of the Thunder Ram"
"Mnemonus Arcanus Set"
"Monstrous Reprisal"
"Mortar Forge"
"Mystic Instruments of Tang-Ki"
"Nether Lord's Regalia Set"
"Nimble Edge Set"
"Obsidian Guard"
"Onyx Lotus"
"Outcast of the Deep Set"
"Peculiar Prestidigitator Set"
"Penumbral Vesture Set"
"Phasma Phasmatis"
"Primeval Prophet"
"Radiant Protector Set"
"Rage of the Three"
"Raiment of the Chiseled Guard"
"Raiments of the Sacrosanct"
"Red Dragon"
"Red Mist Reaper Set"
"Redmoon Assassin's Secret Set"
"Redwood Arms Set"
"Regalia of the Bonelord Set"
"Regalia of the Crystalline Queen Set"
"Regalia of the Mortal Coil Set"
"Regalia of the Wraith Lord Set"
"Relics of the Putrid Pontiff Set"
"Relics of the Sundered King"
"Remains of the Dreadknight Set"
"Reminiscence of Dreams"
"Resentment of the Banished Princess"
"Resonant Vibrance Set"
"Revered Arms Set"
"Rider of Avarice"
"Rider of the Storm Set"
"Ritual Garb of the Father Spirits Set"
"Rune Forged Set"
"Saberhorn's Armor Set"
"Sacred Orb Set"
"Sanguine Royalty"
"Scarlet Quarry"
"Scorched Fletcher"
"Sentinel of the Lucent Gate"
"Sermon of the Frozen Apostle Set"
"Shadow Flame"
"Shadow Hunter Set"
"Shards of the Falling Comet Set"
"Silent Champion"
"Sky-High Warship"
"Snowstorm Huntress"
"Sorcerer of the Black Pool"
"Spirit of the Howling Wolf Set"
"Spoils from the Shifting Sorcerer Bundle"
"Spoils of the Bone Ruins Set"
"Starlight Set"
"Starrider of the Crescent Steel"
"Static Lord"
"Steam Chopper"
"Steelweb of Pytheos Set"
"Stellar Jade"
"Stonehall Royal Guard Set"
"Strength of the Demon Stone Set"
"Styles of Unending Battle"
"Sylvan Guard's Finery Set"
"Tahlin Occult Set"
"Techies' Bombastic Box"
"The Ancient Sovereign Set"
"The Apocalyptic Fire Set"
"The Arms of Retribution Set"
"The Atniw's Fury Set"
"The Battle Caster Set"
"The Bone Scryer Set"
"The Bonehunter Set"
"The Boreal Watch Set"
"The Brood Queen Set"
"The Burden of Eleven Curses Set"
"The Caustic Consumption Set"
"The Clergy Ascetic Set"
"The Commendable Commodore Set"
"The Conquering Tyrant Set"
"The Corpse Maiden's Set"
"The Creeper's Cruelty Set"
"The Crimson Cut-throat Set"
"The Deadly Nightshade Set"
"The Demonic Archivist Set"
"The Dreaded Bravo Set"
"The Ephemeral Haunt Set"
"The Eternal Light Set"
"The Exiled Demonologist Set"
"The Exiled Ronin Set"
"The Fiend Cleaver"
"The Gallows Understudy Set"
"The Garments of the Charred Bloodline Set"
"The Gifts of Yoskreth Set"
"The Hare Hunt Set"
"The Hidden Talent Set"
"The Hierophant's Protection Set"
"The Igneous Stone"
"The Inscrutable Zeal Set"
"The Iron Claw"
"The Mage Slayer's Set"
"The Magus Magnus Set"
"The Maniacal Machinist"
"The Master Assassin Set"
"The Moon Rider Set"
"The Mourning Mother"
"The Mysterious Vagabond Set"
"The Nether Grandmaster's Robes Set"
"The Nightwatcher's Set"
"The Northern Wind Set"
"The Obsidian Blade Set"
"The Ol' Chopper's Set"
"The Red Conqueror Set"
"The Riftshadow Roamer's Set"
"The Rough Rider of Yama Raskav Set"
"The Sea Dragon's Set"
"The Second Disciple Set"
"The Seers Command Set"
"The Slithereen Exile Set"
"The Slithereen Knight Set"
"The Spellbinder's Shape Set"
"The Steadfast Voyager Set"
"The Stoneshard Majesty Set"
"The Stormcrow's Spirit Set"
"The Subtle Demon Set"
"The Tentacular Timelord Set"
"The Third Insight Set"
"The Three Virtues Bundle"
"The True Crow"
"The Twisted Arc Set"
"The Ursine Ravager Set"
"The Witch Hunter"
"The Wolf Hunter"
"The World Splitter"
"Thousand Faces Set"
"Throes of Anguish Set"
"Thunderwrath's Calling Set"
"Timberthaw"
"Tools of the Demon Witch Set"
"Tools of the Haruspex Set"
"Tools of the Mad Harvester Set"
"Toxic Siege Armor Set"
"Traveling Tale-Teller's Set"
"Tree Punisher"
"Tribal Stone Set"
"Twin Blades Assassin"
"Twisted Wisdom Set"
"Umbra Rider"
"Unbroken Stallion"
"Vanquishing Demons General"
"Venomous Deathbringer"
"Vestige of the Arsenal Magus"
"Vestments of the Infinite Waves"
"Vestments of the Ten Plagues Set"
"Viridi Inanitas Set"
"Volatile Firmament"
"Wandering Demon of the Plains Set"
"Wandering Harlequin's Regalia"
"War-Vestments of the Magnoceri"
"Warcog"
"Warrior of the Steppe Set"
"Warrior of the Stormlands"
"Warrior's Retribution Set"
"Web of Thorns Set"
"Webs of Perception Set"
"Weight of Omexe Set"
"Whisper of the Tribunal"
"Whispering Dead Set"
"Wicked Succubus Set"
"Wings of Obelis Set"
"Wings of the Gilded Falcon Set"
"Wings of the Paladin Set"
"Winter Snowdrop"
"Witch of the Outlands Set"
"Woodland Outcast Set"
"Worldforger"
"Wrath of Ka"
"Wrath of the Blood Covenant Set"
"Wyvern Skin"
"Yuwipi Set"
"Zaru'Kina Protector's Garb Set"
"Dusklight Marauder"
"Moonshard Overgrowth"
"Surgical Precision"
"Corruption"
"Fire Tribunal Set"
"Gifts of the Vanished Isle Set"
"Sovereign of the Woodlands"
"Garb of Shades"
"The Dead Reborn"
"The Claddish Renegade"
"Redrage Crawler"
"Noble Warrior"
"Harbinger of War"
"Deep Sea Scoundrel"
"Scavenger of the Basilisk"
"Bedrock Serenity"
"Rhinoceros Order"
"Fluttering Amethyst"
"Dark Curator"
"Eye of the Beholder"
"The Gatekeeper"
"Allure of the Deep"
"The Brinebred Cavalier"
"Fathomless Ravager"
"Rambling Fatebender"
"The Keen Commander"
"Arctic Recluse"
"Enduring Solitude"
"Outlandish Gourmet"
"Golden Nirvana"
"Raucous Gatecrasher"
"Stygian Maw"
"Unblinking Eternity"
"Ironbarde Charger"
"The Undying Light"
"Elder Convergence"
"Boilerplate Bruiser"
"Icebrew Angler"
"Epoch of the Abysm"
"Forgotten Renegade"
"War-Burrow Ravager"
"Portent Payload"
"Iron Hog"
"Icewrack Marauder"
"Mantle of the Prophet Foretold"
"Stoutheart Growler"
"Eye of the Weathered Storm"
"Purveyor of the First Ways"
"Winter's Warden"
"Sign of the Netherfrost"
"Frostshard Ascendant"
"Bitterwing Legacy"
"Snowpack Savage"
"Seasoned Expeditionary"
"Watcher on the Northern Shore"
"Frost Auburn Hideaway"
"Violent Precipitate"
"Desolate Conquest"
"Cruel Reprisal"
"Majesty of the Forbidden Sands"
"Ascendance of the Rime Lord"
"Creed of the Outlaw Huntsman"
"The Corruption of Nezzureem"
"Bestowments of the Centurion Vanguard"
"Vantage of the Breach Warden"

Wards

"Skywrath Sentinel"
"Black Pool Watcher"
"Hellgazer"
"A Dire Gaze"
"Spell Surveyor"
"Ocula the Observer"
"Warding Guise"
"Celestial Observatory"
"Watchful Sotdae"
"Eye of Lyralei"
"Eye of Thunderkeg"
"Bramble Watch"
"Clockwerk Watcher"
"Dead Watch"
"Enchanted Vision"
"Stone Bound Watcher"
"Ward of the Eternal Alliance"
"Eye of Foresight"
"Arctic Watchtower"
"The Eye Fountain"
"Spying Toadstool"
"Overseer's Burden"
"Feather Sentinel"
"Eyes of the Watchroot"
"Starecrow"
"Watchful Wyrm"
"The Eyes of the King"

Couriers

"Captain Bamboo"
"Yonex's Rage"
"Shagbark"
"Nimble Ben"
"Kupu the Metamorpher"
"The Llama Llama"
"Itsy"
"Mok"
"Blotto and Stick"
"Tinkbot"
"Alphid of Lecaciida"
"Waldi the Faithful"
"Arnabus the Fairy Rabbit"
"Deathripper"
"Coco the Courageous"
"Tory the Sky Guardian"
"Throe"
"Cluckles the Brave"
"Butch"
"Ramnaught of Underwool"
"Porcine Princess Penelope"
"Prismatic Drake"
"Tickled Tegu"
"Morok's Mechanical Mediary"
"Wynchell the Wyrmeleon"
"Snowl"
"Snelfret the Snail"
"Maximilian the Beetlebear"
"El Gato"
"Woodchopper"
"Azuremir"
"Snaggletooth Jerry"
"Kangdae the Dokkaebi"
"Amphibian Kid"
"JanJou"
"Beaver Knight"
"Corsair, Son of the Storm"
"Royal Griffin Cub"
"Genuine Snapjaw"
"Promo Redpaw"
"Scribbins the Scarab"
"Snapjaw"
"Jin and Yin Fox Spirits"
"Carty"
"Grimoire The Book Wyrm"
"Redpaw"
"Vigilante Fox"
"Virtus Werebear"
"Mei Nei the Jade Rabbit"
"Nilbog the Mad"
"Lil' Nova"
"Hexgill the Lane Shark"
"Axolotl"
"Noble and Imperial Pride"
"Babka the Bewitcher"
"Promo Bluepaw"
"Flightless Dod"
"Masked Fey, Lord of Tempests"
"Grimsneer"
"Chirpy"
"Warbler and Snikt"
"Coral the Furryfish"
"Fraidy Jack"
"The Wonderously Encumbered Travelling Automaton"
"Master Chocobo"
"Atrophic Skitterwing"
"Amaterasu"

Other

"Seafarer's Shoes"

Playing By Ear
Bloodhound Saga
Wakeup Super
-
Author's Note: For those that are returning readers from PBE, which I imagine most of you are, I'm transitioning to the canon interpretation of translators that pull meaning from words without actually changing the sound. I'm not going to replace the translator portrayal in PBE, but I won't be abiding by it going forward.
-
First Next
-
Memory transcription subject: Lanyd, Venlil Music Student (Second Term) White Hill University
Date [standardized human time]: October 24th, 2136
Dr. Jacobson's eyes peered at me through the screen, filled with the warm understanding that he typically exuded. I’d grown quite accustomed to his visage, just as much as Cora's. Having walked so many Humans around White Hill, I no longer had any reservations about the binocular gaze. I'd heard Humans refer to eyes as windows to the soul, and I could understand why they might believe.
I’d been surprised, when I first saw the doctor’s face, that the top of his head was furless, yet fur grew around his chin reminiscent of some of the other Human males. Did he really have an easier time growing it down there than he did on his dome? Human hair was strange.
Yet, for all the weirdness, his appearance only made me feel welcome to share.
“And you find that this feeling is different somehow?” Dr. Jacobson asked. “Unfamiliar?”
I'd just finished recounting the tour Bonti and I gave the paw before. It had gone well for the most part, but I found myself feeling oddly troubled near the end. And, in fact, this feeling was appearing more often. The strange thing being, I couldn’t really discern where the unease actually came from. Typically, determining the source was part of my process, but this was like a building sense of wrongness that I couldn’t find the root of.
“I just d-don’t know what caused it,” I couldn’t help but stutter. “Everything in my life has been improving, b-but…it's like something is just gnawing at me. I’m scared that it’s always g-going to be there, that I’ll never really be able to get past it…”
Dr. Jacobson's gaze somehow softened even more.
“You've been facing negative thoughts for a long time. It's only natural that there are fragments of that mentality. The path of healing isn't a straight shot. There will be trials and moments of triumph.”
I get up. I get down.
I quietly sighed and put my ears flat against my head.
“I know, but it f-feels like there's more to it than that. It’s like I'm still…m-missing something, and it’s holding me back.”
Dr. Jacobson took a moment to scribble something in his notes.
“Was there anything in particular that you think might have caused this feeling to flare up?”
“I c-can’t really think of anything specific. It’s been getting worse lately, though. Yesterpaw, it was the most p-potent it's been so far. I was s-scared I was going to b-break down during the tour. What w-would everyone think-”
“Lanyd, breathe.”
I fell back on the practiced exercise, taking in a lengthy breath, holding, and releasing with a slow exhale.
“S-sorry. I'm just worried about this. I don't need any new issues to arise. I already feel so b-broken.”
It's just another internal problem for me to figure out. Why does there always seem to be a new obstacle?
“Well, I'm sure we can get to the bottom of this together,” Dr. Jacobson assured me. “Our minds are complex things to navigate, but with good practice, we can better understand ourselves. For now, I can only ask that you exercise patience. There’s a lot of exciting changes coming up, yes? How are you feeling about the new term?”
“I'm a little nervous,” I replied, managing to shake my stutter. “Not for the classes, but for everything else. I'm going to have to work with all these new people. Part of me wishes I didn't take the scholarship offer. I didn't even need it, but everyone else was doing their part for Human integration and…I just wanted to help too.”
“It might have been better to take things slower, but your willingness to help is still admirable. You've been making progress regardless. As long as you don't overdo it, the tours and such may accelerate your socialization.”
“I hope that will be the case, but part of me feels like I'm just stuck, like every time I make a stride forward, my fear pulls me right back into place.”
“Well, you appear noticeably more comfortable to me. I think you should give yourself a little more credit.”
“That's what Bonti says too.”
“He seems like a good friend, and it sounds like you have several of those now.”
“It's true. I…really don't know where I'd be without them. Probably just hiding away at my flytser all the time. Stars, sometimes, I still do that…”
Dr. Jacobson lightly shook his head.
“Remember, patience.”
“Right. Sorry.”
“It's okay. Just give yourself some time to process these things. Your life has been rapidly changing, and you still need to adapt. The brain needs to rewire itself for new circumstances and processes. That can only physically happen so fast.”
An alarm sounded behind Dr. Jacobson, grabbing his attention.
“Sorry, Lanyd, I've got another patient’s session scheduled shortly, so we’ll have to wrap things up for now. Just keep your exercises in mind and keep writing things down. You really are making progress, even if you don't see it.”
“I’ll need to be somewhere soon as well. This is a good point to wrap things up. I’ll do my best moving forward. Thank you, Dr. Jacobson.”
The call disconnected and I rose from my flytser seat. Despite all the progress I’d supposedly made, I still only really felt comfortable having our sessions behind the instrument. It helped protect me from the runaway anxieties that usually festered in my brain. But, I still didn’t like just how tied to the flytser I was. It was a crutch and I knew that.
I placed my pad down on the new keyboard piano I'd set up just a few tail tufts away. According to Kila, there was a lot of demand for the electronic instruments. I was not the only one to request one, though I was one of the first to receive.
Just as soon as I'd set my pad down, it began to ring. I picked it up again and checked the caller ID.
Bonti.
I accepted the call immediately.
“Hey!” The dark-furred Yotul appeared on the screen. “Feeling any better after yesterpaw? I know you were struggling with the tail end of the tour.”
Bonti had been very vigilant to check on me, especially after the bombing of Earth. I…hadn’t taken that whole ordeal well, terrified for Cora’s safety. He’d definitely seen me at my lowest point, obsessively playing my flytser just to keep the awful thoughts from turning me into a trembling mess.
Still, I was thankful that Bonti was with me during that time. He made sure I was eating well and staying hydrated while I was glued to my flytser. I owed him a lot for that, yet he acted like it was nothing, saying I’d already done my part by letting him stay with me while his housing situation was up in the air.
To be honest, that hardly felt like anything special. Why wouldn’t I let him stay with me? Bonti was one of the few people in the world that didn’t have any reservations about my condition. Waking up to his cooking each paw, having his plehr accompany my flytser playing, walking with me as we gave the tours…
It was just nice having him around, even if I still needed my alone time.
“I’m doing better,” I assured him. “I just finished a session with Dr. Jacobson, and I’m about to head to Haeli’s home for my piano lessons with Grace.”
“Sounds like a hell of a busy paw to have right after we gave a tour. You want me to walk you over there, or are you okay going alone?”
Despite the fact that he’d moved into a campus-provided apartment of his own, he offered to escort me around quite often. In truth, I didn’t like how willing he was to derail whatever he was doing just to walk me somewhere. But, it did feel good to know he supported me that much.
“I’ll be fine,” I replied. “Really, I’m doing much better today. It shouldn’t be an issue.”
“Alright, just let me know if you think you need a helping paw. Things are about to get busier, so don’t overdo it.”
I giggled and swayed my tail in amusement.
“It’s funny how often you and Dr. Jacobson echo each other. What kind of doctor are you trying to be again?”
“Only the best!” Bonti answered proudly. “The best take care of people, and that includes you, physically and mentally.”
“Well, I do feel well taken care of. You’ve been a big help, but really, I’ll be okay this paw. Don’t worry about me.”
“Fair enough. Enjoy your lessons then.”
“I will! Goodbye!”
“Later!”
The call disconnected. Once more alone in my dim living room, I felt the weight of everything starting to sag on me again. It was always noticeable after speaking to someone just how isolated I often was. Even though I needed the time to recharge by myself, I didn’t enjoy that ever-present sense of loneliness that permeated my life, the knowledge that this was normal.
Still, I didn't like the idea of pulling Bonti away from his own responsibilities just for my comfort. I'd spent many cycles trudging through things alone. I didn't need his presence to survive, and I knew my own presence only proved cumbersome for him.
An alarm on my pad let me know that it was time to head out, so I grabbed my bag and made for the door. It would take some time to arrive at Haeli’s place given I usually took a roundabout way to avoid the crowds. I’d do well to start my travels sooner rather than later.
[Fast-forward transcription: 30 minutes]
The walk was, thankfully, uneventful. I skirted the edge of campus, taking quiet paths that bypassed the brunt of the wandering students. White Hill was lively with the new term starting, but that proved to be more of an obstacle for me than a heartwarming sight. I didn’t need any extra stimuli to drain my already meager social battery.
Soon enough, I was at my destination. Haeli’s home was fairly quaint; many of the houses near campus were. When I first saw it, I understood why she was able to house only Grace after the attack on Earth. But, it was still a large enough space for the Human refugee to teach her instrument of choice.
I’d personally been interested in the piano since I first saw it. The flytser was a bit of an oddity amongst the many instruments in the Federation. How ironic that it was the Humans that had the closest equivalent. When Grace mentioned in the group chat that she would be giving lessons while she was living on Venlil Prime, I was the first one to sign up.
There were several reasons beyond my initial interest. Firstly, I wanted to get more practice socializing with people I was already somewhat comfortable with. Secondly, I thought it might help me break my dependence on the flytser. Even with all the similarities, I liked to think that the slight differences would broaden my coping mechanisms a bit. Thirdly, I wanted to know more about Human music as a whole. Their twelve-tone ‘octaves’ differed from our twenty-four-tone sets. It seemed to affect their entire approach to composition. I wanted to understand their methods.
I rapped my paw on the door and waited. After a few moments, the knob turned and Professor Haeli swung the door open. She waved her tail in greeting, prompting the same action from me.
“Good paw, Lanyd. Grace is just wrapping up a remote lesson with another student, but please come in.”
I obliged, stepping inside as she closed the door behind me. As described, Grace was seated at her keyboard in the living area, a mask covering her face as she looked slightly off to the side of the pad propped up in front of her. It was a shame that she had to take such measures to not frighten her students, but I expected things to change with time. As she continued giving these lessons, maybe she’d get more in-person students like me.
It's ironic that I'm one of the few showing up personally.
Grace looked up at me and raised a single digit to signal that she'd be with me in a moment. Haeli led me into the kitchen as the sound of Grace's teaching faded into the background.
“I was just making some tea if you'd like some,” Haeli offered while sifting through the cabinets for mugs.
“Sure, I'll have some,” I replied. “Thank you.”
“Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you about. I know you're already quite busy, and the new term will do no favors for your scheduling, but I've been trying to find some musicians willing to play for the new jazz lounge. The flytser could be a substitute for a Human vibraphone, and with you learning piano, I figured you could get some practical experience with that as well.”
A jazz lounge? I suppose I could play, but I’m just learning piano. Would I be good enough? Could I fit this in my schedule? What about my social battery? Stars, why do I keep taking on all these new responsibilities? What if it all goes wrong? What if-
No. I just need to breathe. She’s only making an offer. It’s my choice to make. I should hear her out at least.
“H-how often would the performances be?” I asked. “It sounds like a b-big responsibility…”
“Eh, not really. I'm asking upperclassmen to contribute as well, so there will be coverage if you decide you can't be there. There’s lots of folks requesting keyboard pianos from Kila’s club after the concert. That’s why Grace has been able to give these remote lessons. It’s really not a big deal if you’d prefer not to participate. Just thought it might interest you.”
That doesn’t sound so bad. Maybe it’s worth considering?
“I'll k-keep it in mind. I do need more experience actually performing...”
“Feel free to spend some time thinking on it,” Haeli handed me a mug of tea. “The first performance is coming up soon, but I can always cover it myself if I need to.”
It could be good practice, I suppose. I'm still new to the piano though…
“Hey, Lanyd!” Grace called from the other room. “Last lesson is over, love! Let’s get started.”
“R-right!” I replied before turning to Haeli for a few more words. “Thank you for considering me for the jazz lounge, professor. I’ll give it some thought.”
“It’s up to you, Lanyd,” Haeli assured me. “I won’t keep you from your lesson. Go on.”
I made my way back to the living room, placing my tea down on the nearby table, and sitting down at Grace’s keyboard piano. It was a high-end piece of equipment, a sign of her professionalism, and the most valuable thing she brought from Earth.
Although, she’d recounted that she had an authentic piano back home that put this electronic instrument to shame. Unfortunately, her home had been reduced to a pile of rubble. The sadness in her voice when she spoke of it told me that the piano meant as much to her as my own flytser did to me.
I couldn’t imagine what it was like to lose everything like that.
Still, it was hard to believe that she’d lost her home given her current demeanor. There was such a tremendous amount of passion behind her teaching, and it helped to bring her optimistic side forward.
Grace removed her reflective mask and gave me a warm smile.
“Timely as ever, aren’t you? You got here early.”
I just didn’t want to sit around at home…
“I d-didn’t want to be late,” I replied.
“Punctuality is a good quality to have. I won’t fault you for it. Okay, where were we at again? Think of Me with Kindness, was it?”
Indeed, my recent learning material was a suggestion from Brad. I’d somehow become his ‘progressive rock buddy’ given I was more receptive to the subgenre than Mezil for whatever reason. Brad was especially tickled by that fact due to…my gender? Apparently female prog rock fans were a rarity amongst Humans.
I could discern any particular reason for that.
Regardless, he’d sent me a song recently by a band called Gentle Giant. It wasn’t quite as intense of some of the prog tracks I'd heard before. In fact, when I first played it for Grace, she decided that it would be good practice for me. I’d spent some time picking the tones out with my ears, trying to transcribe it both in Venlil and Human music script. At this point, it felt like I could play it semi-confidently.
Now, it was time to show it.
I spread my paws across the piano keys. It was a familiar sensation, even though the placement was different to the flytser buttons. If anything, these keys were actually easier to press consistently.
I started at the low end of the instrument, working up a lengthy B flat scale and back down since that was the key the song opened with. Grace nodded approvingly, satisfied with the fluidity of my playing.
“Quite nice. Your improvement in such a short time continues to impress me. God, I wish I improved half as quickly when I first began!”
Her praise reminded me of Dr. Jacobson, and everyone else. It always seemed like they were impressed with me, though I was so far behind the curve. I knew they were right, objectively, in believing that I was developing fast. But, they didn’t know about all the doubt, all the constant effort it still took to try and even appear halfway normal.
“I still have a ways to go,” I muttered. “Even with these simple scales.”“Well, love, that’s why we’re here, innit?” Grace began to tap away at her pad. “I took the liberty of making a little backing track for the song devoid of piano. This way, you can play along without having to try and impose yourself over the actual recorded part.”
She went through all that trouble?
“Thank you very much. You didn’t need to do that.”
“Nonsense! It’s not like I have much else to do. Transcribing this piece has been a good distraction from…well…never mind that. Let’s get you started then.”
Grace toggled on a metronome to count out the eighth notes. The piece had several small time changes, so there was no accented beat. She hovered her finger over the play button on the backing track.
“I’ll count you off with seven eighth notes to match the first measure. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…”
I began to play. The piece opened calmly, a quiet piano melody laid over a simple bass line. The time signature changed immediately between the first 7/8 measure and the second 4/4 measure. As I played, Grace began to sing lightly overtop.

Why am I using words, no more to say without you
Close the door, put out the lights and go

I minded the little changes in time signature, keeping my playing low and subdued. The goal was to support Grace’s singing, adding small flourishes underneath her voice.

Late at night, in the night your shadow falls between us
Nevermore, I’ll never know
There, memories are sorrow,
When there's no tomorrow

With the last line, the drums leapt into action. All of the instrumentation rose in volume including my own, breathing energy into the reserved atmosphere and letting it flow freely. I began to hammer out stark, powerful chords that seemed to march proudly through the arrangement before diminishing.

Sleep while the sweet sorrow wakes my daydream
Sleep while you think of me with kindness
Please remember former days
Sweet the song that once we sang, the silent parting ways
And you know, and you know
And you know, long ago when first we made our promise
Empty words, I wonder did you know

A bright, melodic brass part began to soar over the rest of the band in place of the vocals. It sounded like a trombone, which was probably why Brad favored the piece so. Organ sat underneath my piano part as well, making the sound full and rich.
But, just then, the piece took an unusual turn, leaning into less consonant intervals and a staggered 11/8 section.

The laugh that love could not forgive
Is gone and tells no call to live
And we who look in beauty's love
Must now, through all, think back on before

For a brief moment, the triumphant sound returned, only to give way to the tense section once again.

The tears that first I cried, no more
Your love has come and gone, no more
And we who look in beauty's love
Must now through all think back on before

We quickly slipped into another marching segment, though it quickly drifted into the dreamy atmosphere just as well.

Sleep while the sweet sorrow wakes my daydream
Sleep while you think of me with
Kindness, please remember former days
And you know, and you know

Then, we charged forth, full force once again.

And you know, when we two parted in tears and silence
Lost the days, the parting ways
Fare thee well, fare thee well, you
That was once dear to me
Think of me with kindness
Think of me

As the last piano tones disappeared. The metronome continued to fill the silence. Realizing that Grace had yet to turn it off, I moved my attention to her. The Human’s stare seemed almost vacant, pointing at the wall unblinking. Her brown eyes glistened just a bit.
“Grace?”
She suddenly snapped from her stupor and looked at me.
“Ah, sorry about that, love. Just got stuck thinking about…someone I knew back home. You sounded quite good, I must admit! It’s hard to believe you started learning the piano such a short time ago. Not once have I seen someone take to it so naturally.”
“W-well, there’s a lot of similarities to the flytser,” I replied, trying not to sound too flustered. “Still, some sections are still giving me a bit of trouble. I get the feeling that they were written for five fingers, not four claws.”
“Yes, that might be the case. Still, I didn’t notice any glaring flaws. As we improve your coordination across the keys, I’m sure those larger jumps will become easier for you. There may be some chords you’ll be barred from playing naturally, though they’d probably have repeated notes just for voicing purposes. You could get by without them.”
“Those aren’t the only elements that need work,” I sighed. “It’s hard to feel satisfied after pouring most of my life into the flytser. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be so…amateur.”
“Well, yes there’s always room for improvement, but I fail to see how that is a bad thing. I’d be more concerned if you believed that you were already a master of the instrument.”
“I know. Everything’s just been overlaid with some kind of…darkness lately. I d-don’t know how to describe it, but s-since the attack on Earth…I don’t d-deserve to be so put off by it when others lost everything, when you d-did-”
“It’s okay, love. We’re all working through a lot of feelings right now, but that’s why it’s good to receive some kind words here and there, to have friends to help us through. In my opinion, you should be proud of how far you’ve come in every regard.”
Even if I were proud of those changes, it wouldn’t fill the gap that I feel. There’s something still missing, and every kind word just seems to make the hole more pronounced…
“R-right,” I hesitantly replied, not wanting to dump anymore of my issues on the already recovering Human. “Well, there’s still things I can work on, so maybe we should run through the song again?”
“By all means, love. Let’s take it from the top.”
[Fast-forward transcription: 30 minutes]
We spent the rest of the lesson drilling the piece through and through, going over the tougher sections repeatedly, and even experimenting with some extra flourishes that didn’t exist in the original recording. Grace began playing the vocal part on her MIDI controller keyboard to give her voice a rest, and she even had a bit of fun playing around with some of the VSTs to try and make it sound humorous.
I’ll admit, I found myself giggling at some of the absurd vocal replacements.
Soon enough, it was time for me to go, so I thanked Grace for the lesson and Haeli for the tea before going on my way. My social battery was nearing its limits, so I began to walk back the way I came, around the edge of campus. Even as the paw grew later, the school was still bustling with excited students, crowds of unfamiliar faces I didn’t want to place myself amongst.
It’s not the fastest way, but at least I can avoid attention on this path-
“Excuse me, miss!”
My ears snapped up towards the source of the sound. I hadn’t even noticed him, but there was a campus exterminator flagging me down. My muscles tensed and my breath grew shallow. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Why was he stopping me? Did he realize that I was avoiding the herd? Did he suspect me of having predator disease? My social battery was already so drained from the therapy session and piano lesson. I couldn’t afford this!
Oh, Stars. Nononononono. I'm so far from the herd. He’s going to know there’s something wrong with me…
The exterminator quickly strode over to me. I tried to keep the fear from my features, but I felt my legs quivering. I couldn’t avoid him. There was nothing I could do-
“Your bag is open, miss,” The exterminator said, motioning towards the open pocket.
He just…wanted to help me…
“Oh…th-thank you, sir. I d-didn’t notice.”
“Are you alright?” He asked, looking me over. “I know it might be scary to be away from the herd with Humans on campus now. If you’d like an escort, I can provide one.”
“N-no, that’s fine,” I forced out the reply. “I’m almost where I n-need to be, anyway.”
The exterminator kept his attention firmly on me.
“Have I…seen you somewhere before?”
“P-possibly. I’m in a b-bit of a hurry, sorry.”
“Right. I won’t keep you. Have a good paw, miss!”
With that, I waved my tail goodbye and quickly strode away. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with an exterminator. They didn’t usually patrol so close to the edge of campus. I wasn’t prepared to face one. Did he have any suspicions? Did it even matter with Humans on campus now?
Breathe. One…two…three…four…
I used Dr. Jacobson’s breathing exercise as I walked, trying to focus my troubled mind. When I finally made it back to Gold Landing, I all but threw myself onto my flytser seat, shaking with a queasy feeling in my gut.
Even as the anxiety started to leave me, I couldn’t shake the unease bubbling beneath everything. A thought crossed my mind, though I'd told him that he didn't have to worry…
“It’s good to receive some kind words here and there, to have friends to help us through.”
Should I even bother him? I’m home. I’m safe. There's no exterminator here, no massive herds…
…
But…
I retrieved my pad from my bag and tapped Bonti’s contact. Even with my social battery drained as much as it was, I wanted to hear his calming words.
“Everything okay, Lanyd?”
Of course, when he answered, he didn't express any annoyance at my pestering. As usual, his concerns went straight to me. I tried to use his voice as my anchor, but the wrongness inside me wouldn't fully disappear no matter how long we spoke.
This haunting feeling…what was I going to do about it?
I’m still missing something. I just…can’t tell what it is…
-
First Next

Hi everyone, longtime listener first time caller (using a new throwaway account). I’m looking for some advice to make sure I’m not missing anything obvious. I understand I’ve effectively reached my FI number but the age gap between myself and my wife complicates things a bit. I feel like I have some blind spots here and am hoping the smart folks here can help point them out. Here’s all my info:
Me: 47 Wife: 56 (she does not work)
Currently looking to retire when my wife hits 59.5 in 2027. I know we don’t have to wait until she’s 59.5 because my funds are available using SEPP but that always seemed complicated and requiring a lot of extra planning.
Wife’s 401k: $1,360,000 (we kept these in 401ks so we can do backdoor rollovers. All invested in Vanguard index funds)
Wife’s Roth IRA: $351,000 (adding $8,000/yr)
Brokerage: $345,000 (adding $40,000 or so per year, varies. This year we’ll do over $60,000.)
My 401k: $571,000 (adding max plus employer match comes to about $30,000/yr)
My Traditional IRA: $538,000
My Roth IRA: $238,000 (adding around $35,000/yr through mega backdoor and roughly $100,000 of the MBD money has been in there for 5 years)
My Beneficiary IRA: $152,000 (predates rule changes so I take out just the RMD every year)
When I add it all up we’re at roughly $3.6M for total retirement savings. I estimate we need roughly $130,000/yr and at a 3.75% withdrawal rate that is $3.46M for FI so we’re reached our number. That $130,000 number includes $100,000 for baseline and $30,000 for taxes and extra discretionary. The $100,000 has fluff built in but also assumes my mortgage (P&I) of around $1,500/mo continues forever.
I’m not including social security here but estimates show she’ll get around $20,000/yr at 65. I’ll also list the accounts below which are not factored into our FI number just for completeness.
529 for 14yo - $158,000 529 for 12yo - $148,000
HSA: $120,000 (adding the family max per year and not spending any of it) House: $235,000 remaining @ 2.5% (valued at $770,000) Car: $9,000 remaining @ 2.5% Cash: $86,000 (emergency fund in a high yield savings account)
I recognize we’ve done very well here and not trying to brag. I’m looking for advice on the following:
1 – The $100,000 baseline per year assumes medical insurance of $1,700/mo (based off COBRA costs). I am hopeful I’m overestimating here but admit I’m not an expert. I try to follow every word zphr says about the ACA to learn. I’m based in NJ and when I run estimates through the NJ healthcare website it comes out less but I could be doing it wrong. I want to make sure I'm being smart with withdrawals to keep taxable income as low as I can (see below).
2 – Related to above but I’m concerned about minimizing taxes to keep MAGI lower. When my wife turns 59.5 she can pull from all of her accounts and brokerage plus a bit of my Roth. Without doing 72t to get money from my accounts we’ll be taking close to 5% out of her accounts which are mostly tax deferred. Right now I’m prioritizing maxing my mega backdoor Roth but would it make more sense to put that towards brokerage instead? If I retire in the next 3-4 years the money I put in Roth today wouldn’t be immediately available whereas the brokerage would. But it seems like I’ll never get the chance to prop up my Roth like this so that seems like the better move.
Can anyone think of anything else I’m not thinking about? I really appreciate any advice you all may have for me!

So, I need some answers and I need them now. There are lot of things that go by the name "Death" in the Lands Between that are sort of related, but also seemingly not related at all. I am going to organize what I have learned in one spot and you guys can help make it make sense!!
https://preview.redd.it/gk4l4w4360sc1.jpg?width=3840&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=b3cb69a2b32de6632bc8ad06074a0e200fdfd719
The Rune of Death / Destined Death

• Removed from the Elden Ring by Marika for immortality
• Maliketh protects it in Crumbling Farum Azula
• Life-sapping effect
• Red and Black mist
• Black Knife Assassins, following Ranni, stole a fragment of this power
• Used it to kill demigods, Godwyn the Golden first
• Needs to be restored to complete the game

Subcategory: Black Flame

• Similar life-sapping effect
• White fire with black outline
• Gloam-Eyed Queen and Godskin faction

Deathblight / Those Who Live in Death

• Appeared after Godwyn was assassinated
• Deathroot infestations across the map
• Yellow and grey mist
• Instant death after Deathblight meter fills
• Causes those who die to become undead
• Fia wants to rule and protect these people
• Mending Prince of Death Rune / Duskborn Ending

Deathbirds / Ghostflame

• Ancient beings, possibly predating the Erdtree and Marika
• Ancestors of the twin birds; possible connection to Nox and Caria
• Pale blue fire with little black feathers
• Causes frost buildup

Subcategory: Rancorcall

• Vengeful spirits hex rediscovered by Necromancer Garris
• Pale blue skulls with little black feathers

Now, here is where it gets kind of messy. The last two categories are both featured under "Death Sorceries" despite being visually, and thematically separate. They are also boosted by The Prince of Death staff which is specifically tied to Godwyn, not the deathbirds. Also, the rancorcall spell is found next to Godwyn's face under Stormveil, but it is also cast by Lionell, one of Fia's champions.
Obviously, the connection between the Rune of Death and Those Who Live in Death is pretty cause-and-effect; since it was only a fragment, it could not do the full job, thus creating undeath. Interestingly, the Black Flame shares a very similar visual appearance to Ghostflame, despite them being mechanically different. There isn't much any overlap between the stats or effects of the Destined Death incantations, the Death Lightning incantation or Death sorceries.
The most overlap exists at the Black Knife Catacombs in Liurnia where you have Necromancer enemies with Ghostflame torches commanding Those Who Life in Death, guarded by a Mausoleum Knight who inflicts Deathblight and houses a Black Knife Assassin wielding a fragment of the Rune of Death. So, clearly all of these things are connected, but how?
The only possible connection I can think of is that death, before it was removed from the Elden Ring, was overseen by the deathbirds. After the Rune of Death was removed, the deathbirds faded into obscurity, only for them to regain power once a fragment of Destined Death returned to the Lands Between.
Oh, I forgot to mention there is a Cemetery Shade in those catacombs, too. Which goes to my next topic:
Not Sure Where These Guys Fit

• Cemetery Shades (Eat dead bodies? That's about it)
• Putrid Corpses (Called corpses but are mechanically different to skeletons)
• Revenants / Wraith Callers / Wraiths (Clearly undead; similar weakness to holy damage; similar color to Deathblight mist, but isn't; ties with Omen?)
• Ravenmount Assassin (Outfit inspired by deathbirds but nothing to do with death magic)
• Walking Mausoleums / Mausoleum Knights (Wield Deathblight but are just spirits, not undead)

At least with the last point, it is clear Miquella is anti-TWLID and is trying to do something with the Eclipse and Castle Sol to counteract this effect to give Godwyn a "true death." Not sure why this results in those protecting the dead wielding the very thing tainting the dead. Though, judging by the state of Castle Sol, it is clear that Miquella was not successful. The Mausoleum Knights also specifically evoke deathbird imagery in their outfits, despite not wielding deathbird attacks. It is a connection, even if it doesn't make a lot of sense.
Activating the Rune of Death
I think those are all my thoughts! I have been obsessing about this because I love the death sorceries in the game, but have always been a little confused about the lore implications. Let me know your thoughts / what I missed! Let's hope for some answers in the DLC!

I never paid much attention to the sounds scarcely heard. As they were so quiet they could be mistaken for my imagination. The whispers from nowhere, the footsteps just a figment. My ever increasing paranoia. Alone in my old house, secluded from my own sanity.
Entering the night, the sky darkens in each moment. I lay in bed awaiting sleep but it failed to arrive. My mind begins to wander, many thoughts that I ponder. My peace was all but long lasting as a loud thud erupted from the room below. This sound not small like those of the past. The journey downstairs led slow and fearful.
Upon entering the room that held the noise, I discover a picture that once hung above the lively flames of the fireplace. The painted landscape within the dusty frame now sat on the tattered carpet. A loud ring sends a violent jolt through my body. I rush to the phone mystery in mind of to whom would be calling in the darkest of night.
“Hello?”
Silence fills the extended time before their reply.
“It is a fine evening this night. Don’t you agree?”
“May I know who it is that asks?”
I question although the answer is already present.
“It does hurt to know that one who I am so close, has not a memory of me.”
His words confirming my fears of the past having returned has come true.
“I would like to believe you miss me.” .
“What is the reason you do not leave me be?”
The answers I need have never been apparent with my reappearing watcher.
“My love for you is too deep. Too unbearable to not have you as my own.”
“I am not something for your taking. I had never belonged to you”
Each passing moment it becomes more difficult to hide my anger.
“My deepest apologies, but no matter the effort to free yourself, my grasp is deathly and my eyes only see for you. It is best if you come to reali…”
His words are cut short as I end our call., for I can no longer stand to speak with the man who had haunted my dreams even before his death. How could it be possible he is back? His death was real; it had appeared on the news a day after the execution. There was no possibility he would be let free for his crimes.
In an attempt to calm my nerves, I head to the family room. Upon entering my eyes lock onto those of another. There sitting in the black armchair was my late night caller.
“How did you get in my house?!”
He stayed silent and still, staring almost menacingly. The gaze of a predator setting its vision on its prey.
“What is it you want from me?”
His eyes shift from my being to something beyond where I am standing. I move slightly farther from him, the small movement causes his eyes to shoot back to me.
“How are you here?”
“I have come back for you.”
“How is that possible? You were put to death?”
“As I have told you before, you can not escape me.”
I am startled by a small noise behind me. I shoot my head around to find it is only a tiny mouse running across the floor. I quickly looked back to the spot my watcher had sat, the chair was now empty. My eyes frantically search the room to find the missing figure. A hand wraps tightly around my wrist. I am turned around to my watchers face inches from my own. Still holding my wrist, he turns and starts out of the room. I stumble keeping up with him, his grasp tightening against my movements. He opens the basement door, the cool air sends a chill down my spine.
“Go.”
I don’t attempt to fight it, I just listen. The wooden steps creek beneath my weight. He grabs a long rope from a nearby shelf, then ties it tightly around my wrists. The only thing i'm sure of is I have to keep trying until I escape him.
Three months later…
I have been kept in the basement for some time now. My attempts at freeing myself from him had all failed in the beginning. My will to leave has faded and I have come to peace with my situation. I have learned many things from my watcher. The main lesson being he was right. I can not escape him.

[First] [Prev] [Next]
Memory transcription subject: Jakiv, arxur scientist
Date [Standardized human time]: August 24th, 2148
[Day 17]
I idly clicked through the television channels. Nothing caught my interest as I lazily lounged on my couch. Here I am wasting another day off, I reprimanded myself mentally. I turned off the TV and curled up against the armrest. The room was completely dark without the electronic glow to illuminate my sparsely furnished apartment.
I groaned as my holopad started buzzing loudly. The caller ID was my manager Vilvit. What could she want? I tapped the answer button and her imposing visage materialized.
“Jakiv?”
“Heyo,” I mumbled robotically.
“How are things, doctor?” she asked.
“I know you didn’t call me for a wellness check. What do you need?” I growled. She thankfully dropped the facade.
“You’re needed up off your ass and to start packing.”
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“Start packing, you’ve got work to do,” Vilvit said dryly.
“You’re giving me more work? Right after demanding I stay home because I was overworked?” I inquired. Wasn’t that something? First, she tells me to go home, now I have to go back to work?
“It’s not my choice. If it were, you’d be chatting with an actual professional before you could even dream of coming back to the lab. But unfortunately, a whole foreign government demanded you specifically for your track record,” she sighed.
“Wait, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“You’re familiar with the Skalgan Flu, yes?” Vilvit asked
“Ah, the predator disease, yes,” I chuckled, “Because the prey love blaming us for all their problems,” I hissed.
“Yeah, sure,” she sighed, “The Yotul Technocracy is short-staffed and looking into research on a cure. With your suicidal work ethic, they want you on Leirn,” the arxur huffed.
“I’ll get packed right away then,” I grinned, finally having something to actually do.
“Damn it, Jakiv, this is the last thing you need. I was going to say, you should not go. You’re not well, tell them you can’t-”
“Well, I’ve got to head out now, Vilvit! Gonna save the prey and shit, catch ya later, buh bye!” I spoke hastily and hung up. I laughed for a bit, chucking the holopad back down on the couch before my smile faltered and I stood in place a while just thinking. Leirn. A long way from Wriss. They will hate me there. No, no not hate. Despise. They’ll despise me.
I sniffled, shook my head, and buried those thoughts. I’m an arxur, no time for those feelings. I threw my travel clothes into a suitcase, figuring the planet would be colder than Wriss’ naturally warm and humid climate.
As I finished packing, the holopad on my couch buzzed again. The caller ID was unknown this time. I answered it, and an automated voice read out, “Dr. Jakiv, a shuttle to Leirn has been ordered free of charge to take off by 4 pm local time. For further questions, information, or concerns, dial 921-” I cut off the monotonous voice and hauled my suitcase outside.
My apartment was in dingy slums, but the neighbors were nice enough when they weren’t getting high on ‘prey brain’. It was an imported drug once native to the Gojid Cradle, first found by grunts back during the war. I never saw the appeal.
I stepped outside, the sun overhead was dim behind a thicker atmosphere. Storm clouds rumbled far out by the peaks up north. A shiny, interstellar shuttle was parked waiting for me to hop inside. It had the seal of the Sapient Coalition plastered on every single door. Pretentious pricks.
It hummed gently and clicked open when I placed a thumb on the handle. I threw my suitcase inside, then clambered in. The vessel was rather cramped, and the legroom was suboptimal. The doors sealed shut, and before I knew it I was being shot up away from Wriss.
The smoggy planet from above looked small and meaningless, just the same as it did from the ground. I averted my eyes from the windows and opened my holopad to scroll the news for a little while. I didn’t care for the politics, I just needed something to keep my mind occupied.
I dozed off somewhere along the way and woke up to the screen embedded in the front of me screeching to life.
“Hello sir, you-” the yotul interstellar travel officer stopped mid-sentence as he got a good look at me.
“I was requested by the Technocracy. My name is Jakiv,” I spoke.
The yotul squinted an eye at me for a moment, I could feel him judging me. A second officer strode up, tapped him on the shoulder, and handed him a document. He read it back and forth. Slowly. Then said, “You may proceed.”
The shuttle automatically propelled forward, and Leirn came into view slowly through the window. Soon enough I was landing in a dingy parking garage and being directed by holographic signs toward customs.
The spaceport was a maze of outgoing and incoming flights, with species of all sorts wandering about. A lot of humans too, they really seemed to like it here. Of course, everyone who spotted me either froze, turned around immediately, or gave me the widest berth possible to avoid my deadly predator-ness.
Funny. The war’s been over for 12 years now, yet they still treat me like I eat children and disembowel pets for fun. I dreaded coming here as I got in line for customs. The people ahead of me magically vanished soon enough, a neat party trick. I strode up casually to the yotul TSA agent.
“Uh… put your suitcase on this conveyor… please?” she asked.
I set it on the belt with no issue, watching it pass through the scanner. I groaned as two more TSA agents immediately started raiding my shit looking for whatever the fuck contraband.
“Please step through the metal detector,” she instructed.
“My scales will set it off,” I informed her.
“What?”
“My scales. They will set off the metal detector.”
She huffed, “W-well you have to go through!” she urged. I sighed, lowered my head, and strutted through. Surprise surprise, it rang out. I was being swarmed by agents, all of them trying to pat me down for weapons I didn’t have.
“Why did- you’ve got something metal!” one shrieked.
“I told you my scales were going to set it off. Put me through the x-ray thing if you’re so sure I’m in the wrong,” I said smoothly.
“How? Scales don’t have metal in them!”
“Not normally, no. Work a decade in a steel plant with no regulations and tell me if you don’t have shit embedded in your skin,” I growled.
“Don’t get h-hostile, gray-”
“Shut the fuck up.”
I glared down at the agent before he could spit more than that stupid slur at me. “I’m not getting hostile. You are the one stopping me. I was ordered by your government to be here. Now let me through, damn it,” I grabbed my suitcase without waiting for an answer. One pulled a Taser, shakily aimed it at me, and fired. The prongs bounced harmlessly off my scales, and I kept walking.
Without much issue, I exited the spaceport and strutted out into the warm afternoon sun. There was a smaller shuttle just outside with my name written on a sign in the window. As I approached, the door opened and a very well-fed yotul was beckoning me to take a seat next to him.
“Ah, Jakiv, welcome to Leirn,” he greeted me. “Might I help with your luggage?”
“I can handle it myself,” I answered.
I loaded the suitcase into the trunk and plopped myself down next to the yotul.
“I’m President Mesu, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person,” he said, extending a paw. I stared at him for a second.
“What is this?” I asked, mimicking his strange action. He took my hand and shook it with fervor. “It’s a human greeting, called a handshake,” Mesu told me.
I took my hand back and rested it on my thigh. I wasn’t up for conversation, especially not with someone faking liking me.
“How was the travel? No trouble I hope, right?” he asked.
I grunted, “It was what I expected,” I replied.
“And is that good?” he urged.
“Fine.”
He was silent a moment. I hoped he finally got the hint to shut up. Unfortunately, prey love their babbling.
“I’m sorry for the poor first impressions. I can assure you I really tried to make it as smooth as possible. It’s just… difficult is all,” he said.
“Difficult, huh? Why’s that?” I questioned sarcastically.
“Well uh- y’know, cause…” Mesu trailed off.
“I do know. You don’t have to pretend to like me, I’m here for work and nothing else.”
“Pretend?” he said incredulously. “No, I’m not pretending.”
“Of course you are,” I growled. “I know you hate me. Everyone hates me. I’m an arxur. I eat people and maim and mutilate.”
“I’m not daft enough to blame you for the Dominion’s transgressions,” the yotul spoke, his voice told me I had offended him. “The Technocracy and arxur have been allied for a very long time. We fought side by side in the war and together we destroyed the Federation and the Dominion. What reasons could I possibly have to damn you personally?”
“The same as everyone else,” I flashed my teeth and glared down at him with my binocular eyes. He didn’t even flinch.
“Right,” he dismissed me. “If it’s just work you’re here for, then so be it. I’m not going to be hostile with you, but I’m certainly not obligated to be friendly. You’re going to be aiding research in Jatsen Labs. The program is top secret and highly illegal. You were an immediate recommendation for your strong work ethic. I have set up living accommodations for you, and there’s a phone in your new home with a direct line to me if anything is amiss. Dr. Daniel Stat, who you’ll be working alongside, will fill you in on the rest,” he explained, then finally went silent for the remainder of the ride.
Thank prophet. Soon we pulled into a little town. My apartment was on the third floor of a really expensive-looking place. I would’ve never afforded this sort of luxury on Wriss. I entered the building, not bothering to say goodbye to the president. The hallway to the elevator was thankfully empty. I made it upstairs, threw my suitcase on the floor, and hopped onto the fluffy mattress.
Why did I come here? Is the work really worth it? Now I’m just rotting away on a foreign planet instead of back home.
I got sick of the stupid voice in my head talking down to me, and against my better judgment, decided to hit the town for something to drink.
I put on a coat and jeans, knowing it would get cold after dark, and put the hood up. I left the apartment and entered the elevator. It sunk down and then came to a halt on the second floor. Fuck.
The doors opened, and a yotul stood before me with a pair of sunglasses and a cane. I was surprised when he walked forward, tapping the floor as he went. He hit my foot and looked in my general direction.
“Oh! So sorry! I didn’t realize someone else was here,” he apologized.
“Huh? How?” Stupid question.
“Cause I’m blind,” he answered, setting himself up in the corner as the door shut behind him. “Are you going up or down?” he asked.
“Uh, down. You?” I asked.
“Down too,” he replied.
Curiosity got the better of me. I had never seen a disabled person outside of the news. I honestly thought they were kept away from society like ours, not integrated with it. “You aren’t afraid of how I sound?”
“No? Should I be?” he asked.
“Well- maybe? You don’t even know what I look like. For all you know I could be- I could be some horrific monster,” I stated.
“If you were, a blind yotul would be the perfect victim, and you would’ve been able to do me in easily,” he replied.
The door dinged and he stepped out of the elevator. I kept my distance to the exit, then walked the opposite way he went. I could’ve done him in. It would have been simple. Really. I pulled the hood further over my head and pulled the drawstrings to tighten it.
Most people steered clear. I got a lot of glares as I walked. One venlil spat on my foot. I didn’t care. The nearest bar was, ironically, a venlil-owned brewery. I needed something really strong. I steeled myself at the bar’s entrance, then walked inside.
The stench of alcohol was almost overpowering. All over the place were mostly humans, drunk off their asses and barely conscious. A couple of the more lucid ones stared at me a bit as I awkwardly strode up to the bar.
“Hello, what can I get-” the venlil stopped short.
I scanned the menu, it automatically translated to arxur script. ‘Mur root liquor’ caught my eye. That’s what I ordered. The venlil was stunned still, so I repeated myself, “Mur root liquor.”
She snapped out of her stupor and shakily got my drink from the tap. I paid just a few credits and tilted the glass back, savoring the burn. I sat on a corner stool, right up against the wall. There were photos hung up all over the place of customers enjoying drinks and being happy. I was going to need something even stronger to wash away that longing feeling.
I finished the glass and set it down with a thud, “An arxur on Leirn?” a voice next to me asserted.
I turned to see a yotul with deep red fur staring intently at me. I didn’t dignify her with a response.
“Quiet type, huh?”
“Leave me alone,” I growled.
The bartender came over and asked the yotul if she needed a drink.
“Just water, please. But my friend here needs a refill. What’d you have?” she asked me.
“Mur root liquor.”
“C-coming right up,” the bartender smiled and backed away, keeping her eyes on me.
“I’m not your friend,” I stated.
“Well duh, I don’t even know your name yet,” she replied. “What’s your deal, arxur? You don’t just come to Leirn for nothing. And I doubt you’re just here for booze,” she leaned her head into her paw.
“I’m here for work, not friends,” I spat.
“Everyone comes here for work,” she chuckled. The bartender returned without drinks. The odd yotul sipped her water, watching me closely as I downed the alcohol and coughed into my elbow.
“Stronger stuff than they got on Wriss?” she asked.
“Are you ever going to leave me alone?” I questioned. She shook her head.
“My name’s Nuri, by the way.”
I sighed, “Jakiv.”
“Nice to meet you, Jakiv. Would another drink get you talking?”
My stomach churned imagining another round and I shook my head, “I’ve had enough.”
“Alright then. So tell me, what kind of work do you do?”
“Why do you want to know so bad?” I asked.
“Well, it’s kinda my job. I’m a reporter, and you’re a weird story. I can just see it in your eyes,” Nuri explained. “If it’s illegal, I won’t tell anyone,” she whispered.
“It’s not, but I can’t tell you,” I answered.
“Okay then, keep it to yourself. What do you like to do in your free time, Jakiv?” she questioned, popping open her holopad to take notes.
“I’m not providing an interview,” I stated. “Put your notes away and fuck off kindly.”
“No can do, I’ve never even seen an arxur in person. This is not something I’ll pass up!” she giggled excitedly.
“Your scales are really shiny, you know that? Are all arxur that way?”
“No,” I huffed.
“Then why are you?” she urged.
“Reasons. It’s metal,” I dodged answering. Molten metal. Burning at my skin and engraining itself in my scales.
“Metal? Neat!” she scribbled away.
I rubbed at my eyes and yawned. When was the last time I slept?
“Look Nuri, it’s been uh… something. I’ve got to go home. I’m a very busy man,” I said, quickly standing on unstable feet and bracing myself on the counter. The floor telescoped and I waivered.
“In that condition? Let me call you a cab,” she offered.
“No, it’s fine,” I waved a claw, putting too much force into it and throwing myself off balance. I fell on my tail and yelped.
“I’m gonna call you one anyway. You’re not walking anywhere in that condition, Jakiv.”
I gave in and sighed heavily, “Fine.”
She extended a paw and helped me back into the stool.
“Have you got a holopad, Jakiv?” she asked.
“Yeah?” I replied. I was too inebriated to think better and handed it to her out of impulse. She uploaded her personal contact information and handed it back to me.
“Call me sometime. Especially if you want to go drinking again,” she chuckled. “I didn’t expect arxur to be such lightweights.”
“I didn’t expect a yotul to not be afraid of me,” I mumbled.
“What?” Nuri asked, cocking her head to the side.
“I mean- nothing. I didn’t say anything,” I put a claw to my forehead, stupid!
“You’re such a weirdo,” she chuckled. “I’d really like to talk to you more. You don’t look all that bloodthirsty and evil to me.”
I smirked, “That’s cause you’ve never seen me devour a tilfish whole! Or- or batter and fry a krakotl!” my attempts to scare her only worked on the barkeep, who went white as a sheet and kept to the other side of the room.
“Or rip the heads off baby gojids? Drink zurulian blood? C’mon, man, you’ve gotta try harder than that to make me leave you alone,” she stated. “No evil apex predator sits in a bar on Leirn alone. You’ve got something going on in that noggin of yours,” she stared intently at me. I was uncomfortable with the prolonged eye contact and resorted to just staring at the empty glass in front of me.
Nuri tipped back the last of her water, “Your cab’s here, Jakiv.”
I stood, maintaining balance this time, and stumbled toward the door. The yotul followed behind. It was insulting being followed around like this. I approached the cab, and it took the driver all of 2 seconds to notice me and peel off. I grumbled and started walking toward the apartment, Nuri thankfully had given up pursuit and gone elsewhere.
I got to a crosswalk, about to hit the button, when a car honk knocked me from my feet. The source of the noise rolled down its window, and there she was in the driver’s seat.
“You need a ride home?” Nuri asked.
Prophet damn it. I swallowed my pride and wordlessly stumbled over to the passenger side.
I glanced at the blurry map on the console and tapped where I was pretty sure I lived, and a GPS voice spat out directions.
“It’s your first day here, am I right?” she asked as we drove.
“Yeah,” I answered.
“Well? What do you think of Leirn?”
“Everyone hates me here,” I said dryly.
“That’s not true. I don’t hate you,” she replied. “I was right to think you were in dire need of a friend.”
“I don’t need a friend,” I spat.
“Everyone needs a friend. Especially a big scary arxur like you, Jaki,” Nuri laughed.
For some reason, a smile tugged the corners of my mouth. “Don’t ever call me that again,” I slurred.
“Or what? You’ll eat me?”
“Maybe,” I hiccuped. “I haven’t decided yet.”
We finally pulled up just next to the apartment building. “That booze hit you hard, gray. Go get some rest. I’ll give you a call in the morning,” she smiled warmly. I got out of the car and walked up to the door. I turned back to find her still looking at me, and for reasons beyond me, I waved.
I felt good? I went inside, the hallways still empty, and collapsed on my bed. I kept thinking about her. Was she right? Is a friend really something I need? I’d deal with it in the morning when I was sober. I dozed off, my thoughts fond for the first time in a while.
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Anyone have an suggested methods for coyote calling if I cannot afford a predator caller? I'm considering just putting a bluetooth speaker out in the field I'll be hunting in and controlling it with my phone. This is my first year doing coyotes, we're hunting in some cut multi-crop fields hoping to call them out of the woods. We plan on using red-light spotlights and limited night vision.

Chapter 1:
==================================================================
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I could barely hold in my joy as they walked us through the underground city of the primate people. To think for so long we had despised them without even knowing what they were. Oh what a shame. All that time we could have spent building a whole world for them.
But the one they had underground was already quite beautiful. I wanted to take a moment to stop and look at all of the sights, but we were on a very important mission. I knew that well. It wasn’t just another day at the office tending to recovering obors and checking strange lumps. I was brought in alongside professional surgeons, doctors, and a few other veterinarians to help the hurting people of the human settlement.
The professionals were brought to fix bones, tendons, and terrible wounds, but we were brought for a more saddening reason. So many had wounds that would not heal. So many had had their lives forever altered. A terrible accident had taken place and left so many of the poor dears in a terrible state. Legs and arms lost. Bones broken in ways that would never heal properly. Spinal cords broken. It was our duty to help, and with the short notice and sudden discoveries, we were called in. Veterinarians with experience in dealing with primates… those with such gruesome injuries.
I’d helped obors to learn to live again after free falls and crushes, but never people. Regardless, I had to try. We each had a duty to the person we were assigned. I had a duty to Trevor McGrath. I would make sure it was fulfilled. My human would live life to the fullest again. I would make sure of it. I would not fail him.
“This way. Follow.” the human guard ordered.
Our large group followed him and his group of guards like babbies to a nanny. I could see eyes shifting to watch and learn everything they could. I was doing no different, but I kept my mind on the game all the same. I was assigned to a human I’d never met. I had no idea what he looked like or what his temperament would be like. All that I knew of him was that he was recovering from a double amputation.
With no titanium and few resources, they had not been able to perform the proper surgeries to save his legs. I’d gone over the logs and learned that much. It made me curse the name of my government for having put their people through so much.
We reached the simian’s hospital compound after what felt like an eternity of traveling. I did not have any complaints, however. It had been lovely to see so much of their roost. The medical center looked much different than the rest of their city, as was expected. The rock walls were polished and sterile. The furniture inside was colored white and light gray. Much work had been put into making their hospital safe and proper. I had to commend them for their beautiful work with so few resources of their own. They had carved a place of healing out of the rock itself and made it look pretty as well.
The group continued walking until we reached a waiting room. Slowly, person by person, we were called away to our duties or to our humans. The group was half gone and I was still standing there. I began to worry that perhaps something had happened to my human. Had he perished? Was I too late?
“How much longer do you think this will take?” I asked a surgeon named Gori.
“I do not know. They are severely understaffed. Most of the time we spend waiting here is waiting for their people to come back. Be patient. We will all be assigned in due time.”
“But what if there is something wrong with my patient. I worry…”
“Don’t worry yourself. You are one of the veterinarians, yes? You cannot allow yourself to be fearful. You are a doctor now, and you must act as one. Stay calm for the sake of your patient and keep a steady face. Do you understand?” Gori asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Good.” he replied.
We stopped talking after that and I spent a while longer waiting. He eventually left before I did and that spiked my concern slightly, but I followed his commands and kept myself calm. I had to be able to be there for Trevor McGrath when the time came. He would need someone to calmly explain things to him and to help him recover.
I had handled amputation recoveries for obors, but never for sapient beings. I had to think and apply my knowledge of one primate species to the comparable traits of another. I pondered deeply and remembered the studies I had undertaken in such a short time. I looked over everything I had stored inside my head, recalling much of importance and whispering it to myself.
“Is there a… a Trev in this group? You are needed in this room. Please follow me.” a human dressed in white asked.
She was a nurse of some kind, though aged in her years. The fur on her head was shaded in various colors including brown, gray, white, and auburn.
“Ma’am, if I may, what is your name?”
She did not answer immediately.
“Ma’am?” I questioned again. She stopped moving.
“It’s of no importance. This is your room. I should warn you, the man you have been assigned to…”
“Trevor McGrath?”
“Yeah… He’s not in a very good mood. Do not take what he says personally. Take this caller as well. I doubt he’ll be a threat, but if he tries to hurt you, press this button.” she pointed. “A guard will be in immediately.”
“Oh, I’m sure that will be unnecessary. I’ve dealt with my fair share of unruly patients at my office. Plenty of bites, scratches, and other things. I can handle myself.”
“Those were with monkeys, right? That’s a man in there, not a monkey. He can hurt you and he is not a pet. Please take this seriously, doctor.”
I felt the criticism deeply. I didn’t mean to upset her.
“Right. I’m sorry. I will do my best.”
“Please try. All you have to do for now is play the instructional videos inside and try to get him to exercise his… his limbs. Follow along with the instructions and ring this button here when you are done. An assistant will be along to help you. They are a trainee, but they have the necessary experience. Please let them do anything you do not feel comfortable doing. Is that understood?”
“Yes. Thank you, ma’am… doctor. I do wish I could know your name.”
“Another time. I have to go. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye…” I mumbled.
==================================================================
After finishing the video instructions at a nearby bench, I pressed the button as I had been instructed. I waited for several minutes, hoping for my assistant to appear. Time went on until an hour passed. A few people came by, but none stopped for me unless I stopped them. When I did, none of them wanted to talk. I was alone with my charge and he was locked behind a door and helpless.
I looked at the door that I had to enter. I had my suitcase with me and all of the tools I was supposed to need, but I still felt so unprepared. I had no help, but I still had a duty to that man. I imagined him, not as an animal, but as a breathing sapient being.
The nurse was right. I was dealing with a person, not a pet. I had to be caring, but not doting. I could not use nicknames fit for animals. I would refer to him as Mr. McGrath, as I had been instructed to. I clacked my claws against the door and knocked before twisting the handle to enter.
In the bed lay an ape-man built like a wall with a wrapping of fur around his lower face and under his cute fleshy pink nose. I did my best to control myself and to not giggle at how cute he was. I knew the seriousness of the situation. His legs were gone and he would not be pleased to hear laughter at the sight of his form. I walked in slowly and his eyes looked up at me. The brows above them curled and his face contorted into a strange form.
“What the hell do you want, herbie? Get out!” he yelled.
His voice was so squeaky and high. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Oh how adorable he was. That poor man. I hated myself for laughing at him, but he was so cute. His head turned red as a pelfruit and he yelled some more. I stopped laughing as I saw him struggling. He was seconds from falling from the bed. His squeaky voice switched to one of high pitched wrath. Oh no, what had I done?
I rushed to him as he caught himself. My heart was pounding at a million beats a minute. By all logic, how could I have been such a fool.
“No! Stop! Lay down!” I commanded.
I bit my tongue, regretting using words fit for a pet.
“Fuck you, stupid xeno. It’s your fault. All of your faults.” he yelled before falling. “Woah ahhhh!”
“No!” I screeched, jumping to grab him.
My heart pumped it’s fastest in that short moment, and his life flashed in front of my eyes. My own did just the same, as his head went flying towards the ground. As my stomach hit the ground, I felt a weight hit my back. Thank science I was wearing a white jacket. I breathed a sigh of relief as the human moaned in pain. I felt hands press against my back and watched the human push himself back into his bed.
“Go away…” he commanded.
I looked at him and sighed. The first meeting had not gone well at all.
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Krev fanfic about a veterinarian being contracted to help injured humans. There isn't much else to it.

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- 2667, Chief-Commander Brallo -
At the point of interest, Brallo had subdued the forces on his perimeter, forcing them at bay. This was also true for the aerial element that the enemy employed that had initially caught them off guard, but earlier anti-air emplacements made short work of enemy reinforcements. Now, all that remained were the enemy forces at the front of the compound. Before Brallo made it to the compound, the scouts prior were made victims to the sudden enemy attack force, and had proven difficult to tame, until now.
“Hmm, they truly are dug in. Good work,” The lone scout in question silently bowed and returned to his remaining brethren some feet away.
Brallo eyed the compound that was his target, designated by Chief-General Torlak. He was a mighty tactician, but he felt he was getting on in years.
The facility in question was built into a vast mountain range that allowed no such travel by foot unless your goal was to scale the sheer cliffs that were the mountain itself. Luckily for him and his band, they surrounded the plateaus that extended from the mountain that overlooked a large depression that was filled with auxiliary buildings.
There was a previous detachment of soldiers before he arrived, but upon his arrival, they were killed. As an urgent response, numerous warships of the fleet descended over the skies above. Emplacements were set up and a staging area for ground troops littered the area.
Most of the equipment used was older tech, should the enemy get hold of it. For all he knew, his enemy favored kinetic weaponry and showed no signs to evolve it, unlike his people who were just now fielding prototype plasma weaponry. They were essential in their formations, so a couple per squad were equipped with the new weapon, offering a new type of advantage in battle.
He scanned the main courtyard before the entrance to the facility, and it was barricaded with a shoddy put-together of wood, crates, and vehicles. However, the courtyard to it was open, and so began a systematic raid of dropping troops into the courtyard. He ordered it to be slow to gauge their defenses, to which he received a report from one of the returning pilots.
“We've managed to get an idea of what we're working with. They've already breached the facility and their number is few.” He reported, “Fighters destroyed the aircraft that transported them, so they are stuck. We can strike now, and I'm sure we'll find an opening.”
Brallo silently acknowledged the report and issued his next set of orders.
“Begin the assault. Ensure we have the main road covered and continually sweep the perimeter. The main force, begin the advance!”
Brallo issued his orders and thus the attack began. They cleared the poorly erected barrier to the facility's courtyard, and the enemy already began their defense. Shots were traded and the dug-in enemy provided more trouble than he thought, but it was as he expected any siege to go. Except this time, it was only a handful of soldiers they were up against and their ammunition supply had to be in short supply.
After several hours, his suspicion finally bore fruit and a right flank opened up. A wealth of Sellian fighters assaulted their right flank and swarmed the enemy. He initially expected them to go down effortlessly, but the enemy combatant was fierce in his defense. The weapon he had was turned into a club, and he began using it against the first wave. He closed the distance quickly, and they were caught off guard, spelling their gruesome defeat.
Not trying to shoot their brethren in the back, they hesitated, taking down the lone warrior on the right side. When his weapon was too bent to use, he quickly swapped it to a bladed armament.
“He has a knife! Back up!” Shouted a group of soldiers near the lone fighter. When they were finally clear, he tried to lunge, but was met by a wealth of bullets and plasma fire.
His fellow troopers advanced and a line of the defenders was present to them. Some took notice and fired at the advancing group, catching some, but the amount was too much. He ran out of ammo and, with little cover, was subsequently neutralized. The right flank quickly fell and one by one the enemy fell.
Soon the fighting ended, and now they were left with a set of sealed double doors.
“There were more on the last run when we came through.” Commented one of the soldiers.
“Must be dug in.” replied another.
“Silence! Begin the breaching process. We do not have much time.” The soldiers nodded and silently complied.
It took some time before they could get the equipment, but they proceeded with haste. The doors were of medium height and stood about half a torso higher than Brallo himself. He was fairly tall and found himself taller than some of the enemies he had fought against. Now he waited, the breaching team moving quickly in their process.
“Perimeter teams, status update.”
Each gave a bored 'All Clear' or 'Nothing new or unusual'. He was glad that was the case and hoped for it to remain as such.
Another set of minutes flew by, and the team was clear to finally open the doors. Using a moderate yield concussion device, a soldier placed it on the weak points of the breach and prepared to detonate it, prompting all within proximity to be clear.
A loud crack enveloped the air and a loud metallic clang could be heard, and the teams peered at the entry with caution. They entered when it was initially deemed clear, and they found themselves in a large reception hall. It extended high into the mountain with an open space in the center and planes of glass lined the sides. Paper and electronic devices littered the floor and desks of the spaces above.
Brallo ordered a small team to digitally collect and analyze all documents found and prepared to send them to the General.
When it was deemed clear, the group relaxed and scoured more of the complex. Even after finding nothing more, he denied it and believed there to be another entry that led deeper into the complex. It was near the end of the main reception area down a long hallway that they found a series of doors, one leading deeper into the compound.
Brallo gathered his warriors and set off toward the newly found door and made their way inside. What they entered was a large room that resembled a warehouse. There were crates littered about and a glass door at the end that read 'ENTRY TO SUB-LVL'. A personal translator read to him the meaning and designated that at their next target.
The room was dimly lit, and they advanced further when a flash from his left brightened near a crate with a sharp crack and a nearby soldier yelled in pain; his body went limp from the lethal shot to his upper chest cavity, just above his protective plating.
Chaos let loose and shots were exchanged on both sides. The shots from the plasma rifles lit up many parts of their end that provided an educated guess for a hail of fire into the silhouette. A cry rang out and a thud followed. This continued for several minutes before shots from the enemy ceased.
Brallo and his group advanced warily before noting that the six that fought here now perished, and they were free to proceed. As they went for the door, a panel opened beside it and a wall of text appeared on a blue-tinted monitor.
>*For what purpose are you brought here?*<
“For information on your race,” Brallo answered.
>Could that not have been exchanged in a friendly diplomatic manner?<
“That is not my place to question my superiors. Now open up!”
There was a pause before it returned with a simple answer.
>*No.*<
“Blow the door. I will not waste my time with insolence such as this!”
The team hurried the explosives and readily blew the door apart. With forceful access, the rest of his party descended into the depths of the complex until they reached a room with a series of casings and electronics. The room's temperature dropped greatly, and the whirs of technology and blinking lights filled the dimly lit room.
“Alright, begin sifting through the data, now!” Brallo left his soldiers and left for the reception hall.
“Chief Commander Brallo,” called one of the soldiers over the radio, “We have what we could gather, but the data is actively being deleted on their system.”
“Good, compile the data before we send it to the General.” muffled booms we heard from the outside, but we waited for confirmation from the soldier he had left behind with the others.
“Yes, Commander-” A yell came over the comms, and cracks of fire were heard. “Commander! The enemy! They were hiding-” A blood-curdling cry came from the caller, and another series of rapid-fire came from the soldier.
He ran towards their last known position and when he entered, the once serene hum of the chilled room was now nothing but broken tech, and bodies of his fellows mixed with the enemy. He readied his weapon and scoured the room. Every inch. That was until he made his way to a hidden corner of the room. What he originally thought was a mirror was now a transparent plane of glass. Beyond it, he found a severely wounded enemy. A path of blood led from where he stood to where the enemy sat now, his back resting on a glowing podium.
Anger roused from Brallo, and he fired into the glass but was promptly deflected. His plasma round melted a small portion of the glass, but it looked like it actively froze over when he went to cool his weapon from overheating.
A low laugh grumbled from the injured being. “You're not going to break it with that, bud…” He coughed and blood stained more of his torn body.
“You-” Brallo thrashed at the reinforced glass to no avail.
“What'd you come here for? Intel? Where we live? Where to strike next?” The bloodied combatant choked. “Well, congrats, you got it. Now get the hell outta here before this place blows…”
He said, and a timer visualized on the glass: '00:04:59'. If what he said was true, then he had no time. As frustrated as he was at the shame of losing his, he couldn't risk it self-destructing. He ran toward his fallen comrades and picked up the transmitter with the data, and made his way toward the entrance.
The closer he got, the sounds of war raged on compared to the relative silence when they assaulted the compound. When he stepped into the courtyard, he saw it. Many of his ships fell to earth in fire and smoke. As he gazed upon the sky, he received a call from the General. He was inquiring about the status of the data he had retrieved.
As he called, he noticed metal pods from ships he did not recognize rain down and land among his frantic comrades. Some were crushed and others were too far gone from their mind and fell to the brutal efficiency of the enemy.
His transmission was received and without wasting a moment, he spoke.
“I apologize, but I was unable to pry any further. I have already sent what I could over a secure line. It may not be much, but consider it to be my final act. For Sellia.”
The general tried to interrupt, but he continued, “Have you not seen the skies?” He said, prompting the general to view the compound one final time. “The skies have been forsaken here and soldiers in coffins of steel assault the earth and masters of death assault my troops…”
Before he could retort, he gave a farewell and cut the call. He sent the data before he could be captured and made his way to his brethren who fought in the depression with the previously mentioned auxiliary buildings. This was their last stand. He began firing towards the ever-encroaching enemy, all who donned black and gray. Many had on their shoulders white markings, led by those with red. This time around, as they fired, their shots did little. They either missed or, when they landed, only knocked them on their rear just for them to get back up again.
They were encircled, and his soldiers fell one by one until only he remained. What he thought to be a quick death was instead met with silence. He looked around and the soldiers that he fought were all trained on him in a half circle, now realizing his back was to the concrete wall that separated him from the inner courtyard.
Brallo checked his weapon and found it to be empty, he tossed aside his rifle and prepared his fists, hoping for an honorable beat down and televised execution. But that didn't come. They all stood watching, and a single man approached from the group.
His armor was worn much more than the others, and he wore gold on his shoulders. He had scar-like damage that ran down the left side of his helmet and rows of smiling sharpened teeth scratched onto his helmet with a pair of sinister eyes where a predator would have them.
Instead of facing him in what he hoped was an honorable bout of fists, it was anything but. The man before him pulled a side arm and consecutively fired two shots into his chest. Brallo collapsed, his breathing ragged and his vision rapidly fading. He searched for the man who shot him and found him standing over him. His translator picked up what it could in his fading consciousness.
“Well well well,” He said, “Quite a shame. If it were up to me, you'd be dead,” He pressed the sidearm against his head, “but we just might need information from you…”
He pressed his free hand against his helmet and spoke something indecipherable.
“Yes sir,” he said quietly before turning his attention to Brallo, “Turns out you already did that for us.” The man said, laughter apparent beneath his demon-like veil.
“Damn shame.”
A shot rang out and Brallo's consciousness was forever obscured in darkness.
- End of Chapter -
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Heya folks! Long time listener, first time caller I lurk here a lot, and I've decided to come out from hiding in a time of need.
My current "gaming" laptop is the Gigabyte G5 KF (i5-12500H & RTX 4060). My biggest issue with this laptop, other than the CPU running way too hot for what it does, is that the TGP is maxed at 75W and I'm seeing consistent throttling. I've decided to give this one to my buddy who wanted to get a basic laptop for his son, who is just getting into LoL.
So here I am at a crossroads here and could really use your collective wisdom. I'm in the market for a new gaming laptop, but I want to make sure I'm making a smart investment that's both future-proof and wallet-friendly.
As far as my usage goes, I'm an avid player of League of Legends (username checks out), but I've also been getting into video editing and would like to be able to do that with efficiently with adequate & competent hardware.
My budget's set at $1000-$1500, and I've got my eyes on some specific features:

• 13th or 14th Gen Intel CPU: I just don't want to drop $ on a CPU that's already over 2 years old (looking at you, 12th Gen's).
• NVIDIA RTX 4060 or 4070: Ideally docked to a 27" 2K (QHD) monitor >144Hz.
• Gen 4 SSD: For those "how did I get here" load times.
• DDR5 RAM: Need that cutting-edge memory, especially since my brain lacks it.
• Thunderbolt 4: I want the option for an eGPU setup. Also love that data transfer speed.
• 15-18" Screen: 16" would be ideal, but anything in this range will do the trick.
• Good Durability: Cuz look at these hands - watch them shake! For real, shaky hands.
• Excellent Cooling: Because no one likes a laptop that runs hotter than the sun.

My dilemma is finding a model that ticks all these boxes without going over my budget. I've looked at several brands and configurations, but I just can't seem to find the elusive "Mr. Right." There's a jungle of options out there and navigating through specs is starting to make my head spin.
Does anyone have suggestions for specific models or a brand at large that would fit my needs? Have any of you had good experiences with a laptop that matches these specs to a degree?
Lastly, are there any must-have features that I might have overlooked in my search? Anything that's a dealbreaker or gamechanger for you when it comes to your gaming rig?
I appreciate any and all recommendations! Thanks in advance for your help in this journey!
Cheers,
Soraka_Support
EDIT - Models I am considering already:
Acer Predator Helios Neo 16 (i7-13700HX RTX 4060) - $1,079 https://www.bestbuy.com/site/sku/6541302.p?skuId=6541302
MSI Crosshair 16" (i7-13620H RTX 4070) - $1,299 https://www.bestbuy.com/site/sku/6537000.p?skuId=6537000
Lenovo - Legion Pro 5i 16" WQXGA (i7-13700HX RTX 4070) - $1,499 https://www.bestbuy.com/site/sku/6534468.p?skuId=6534468

Hi guys, I wrote this very short piece as a possible start to a story involving a Krakotl refugee who finds his way into a secondary Ranger position in Colorado. I really haven't written a story yet but I work as a Ranger and thought it'd be kinda fun to create a character who found themselves in this job. I've had fun starting it off and have some ideas of where to take it, as always thank you SpacePaladin for the universe.
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Memory Transcript Subject: Klam, Krakotl Refugee
Date [Standardized human time] March, 25, 2137
​
You got this buddy, it’s simple really, it’s gonna ring, you’re gonna answer and the interview will happen without a flaw. As a matter of fact, those predators are going to be so impressed they’ll praise you for your immensely impressive confidence. There isn’t a single flaw in my reasoning.
Pulling myself from my overconfident thoughts, I lean over the bed to pull a holopad out of my bag. Time to check it for the umpteenth time this [hour]. Maybe if you keep checking it it'll make the predators call you sooner.
The job title read out plain and simple “Statewide Limited Commission Ranger.” It had come to my attention a [week] ago when an ad for a refugee work program found its way onto my holopad, and while the idea of working alongside humans made me shudder the job seemed like it held some promise.
My translator had informed me that a Ranger is a human profession that works in an outdoor setting protecting and patrolling natural areas, often using enforcement, outreach and working to further the goals of something called conservation. In other words, an exterminator
Consider me lucky such a backwater planet as Earth has their equivalent of an extermination guild, at least I can jump back into my training once I get the job. Maybe teach them a thing or two as well. After all I am gonna get through this interview without a flaw.
What in the world is that noise? Ah It’s my holopad ringing…wait.
[Fuck] it’s ringing! It’s ringing!! I think it’s been something like two years since my last interview, or was it three?... [Fuck] it’s still ringing.
My mind raced as I began to hyper ventilate. The screen shone on my panicked face comprised of a red and a green button topped with a caller ID “Colorado Department of Natural Resources."
Bringing myself out the panic and getting my breathing back to a presentable level, I took the holopad in my claws and accepted the call.
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Some of these might be borderline on definition, but I have a pretty lax definition in all honesty. Love to hear any recommendations.
*This only includes movies I’ve seen since 2021, so it might explain some more submissions that might normally be there.

1. Halloween (1978)
2. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre (1974)
3. Scream (1996)
4. Alien (1979)
5. X (2022)
6. Candyman (1992)
7. Saw (2004)
8. The Strangers (2008)
9. StageFright: Aquarius (1987)
10. Halloween Kills (2021)
11. Fish & Cat (2013)
12. A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
13. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre II (1986)
14. Psycho II (1983)
15. My Bloody Valentine (1981)
16. The Guest (2014)
17. Peeping Tom (1960)
18. The Leopard Man (1943)
19. Opera (1987)
20. Scream 4 (2011)
21. Malignant (2021)
22. Psycho (1960)
23. The Final Girls (2015)
24. Black X-Mas (2006)
25. The Hills Have Eyes (2006)
26. Curse of Chucky (2013)
27. Child’s Play 2 (1990)
28. Green Room (2016)
29. Ready or Not (2019)
30. Maniac Cop 2 (1990)
31. Pieces (1982)
32. Pearl (2022)
33. The Terminator (1984)
34. The Call (2020)
35. Dressed to Kill (1980)
36. Sissy (2022)
37. Halloween Ends (2022)
38. Don’t Breathe (2016)
39. Halloween (2018)
40. Thanksgiving (2023)
41. Happy Death Day (2017)
42. Saw X (2023)
43. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)
44. The Funhouse (1981)
45. Saw VI (2009)
46. The Strangers: Prey at Night (2018)
47. Triangle (2009)
48. Dream Home (2010)
49. Wolf Creek (2005)
50. Black Christmas (1974)
51. Stay Alive (2006)
52. Saw III (2006)
53. Happy Death Day 2U (2019)
54. Scream VI (2023)
55. Manic (1980)
56. You’re Next (2011)
57. Hush (2016)
58. Saw II (2005)
59. Inside (2007)
60. Cannibal Man (1972)
61. The Devil (1988)
62. Hollow Man (2000)
63. Child’s Play (1988)
64. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006)
65. The Hitcher (1986)
66. The Caller (2011)
67. Butcher, Baker, Nightmare Maker (1981)
68. Timecrimes (2007)
69. Strait-Jacket (1964)
70. Tragedy Girls (2017)
71. Bodies, Bodies, Bodies (2022)
72. Detention (2011)
73. Friday the 13th: Part II (1981)
74. Christmas Evil (1980)
75. GirlHouse (2014)
76. The Hills Run Red (2009)
77. Stage Fright (2014)
78. Urban Legend (1998)
79. Predator (1987)
80. Wolf Creek 2 (2013)
81. High Tension (2003)
82. Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers (1988)
83. Jeepers Creepers (2001)
84. I Know What You Did Last Summer (1997)
85. Totally Killer (2023)
86. Halloween II (1981)
87. House of Wax (2005)
88. Wrong Turn (2003)
89. Hatchet (2006)
90. Seed of Chucky (2004)
91. The Slumber Party Massacre (1982)
92. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning (2007)
93. Eaten Alive (1976)
94. Hello Mary Lou: Prom Night II (1987)
95. Hatchet II (2010)
96. Bride of Chucky (1998)
97. Scary Movie (2000)
98. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2022)
99. Scream (2022)
100. Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter