Context

This story fits into my world-building as an example of how people of the tribe at Saàkirlaasiik name one another. It illustrates that names are given by men to one another within their trade groups. Women ask their potential husbands to name them at their binding ceremony. This story illustrates both of those things.
The story is about two characters - 'Rows-in-loud-waters' and 'Hatchling'. They are on a battlefield against a tribe that broke apart from them long ago. Things get rough and a naming ceremony happens in the end. This takes place between the border of Saàkirlaasiik and Saàronit. It takes place in the second age after the Great Sundering.

Spoiler TL;DR

Summary: Rows-in-loud-waters is something of a squad leader to Hatchling. The two of them are in the alligator clan and are waiting for the 'Deceived' to come and fight them. When they finally do, the men fight with one of the Deceived for the majority of the story. This leads to some banter back and forth, but in the end, Hatchling dies. Hatchling tells Rows-in-loud-waters what he would have named his would-be wife if she had asked him to wed her. At the final end, Rows-in-loud-waters gives Hatchling a true proper name.

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What's In A Name

“Stand firm! Men of Nafóótkirriinhaa”, Leans-on-the-spirit, chief of their clan spoke over all present before him. Riding by on a horse, he raised a spear and pranced the line of warriors. “It saddens me that we will shed the blood of our cousins! But they come to steal, pillage, and destroy. Show no mercy, brothers. For, I assure you, the Deceived will not return it.” His dark hair streamed in the air behind him as his steed carried him far down the line of men and out of earshot from him. Men cheered as he galloped by and smacked the flat of their weapons against their chests.
Hide banners whipped as the wind bid them to their will and the trees bent with each gust. Each banner displayed the spirit patron of the clan lined up to do battle. Some tribes gathered hides from the animals that embodied the attributes of their families' skills and nature. Behind him, alligator scales bent against the howling air. They dyed the animal biting its tail with an eye in the middle. A single line split the banner in the middle horizontally, and the eye peered out from the line. It represented the watchful eye of the clan, looking from the lands around Eversun. Sniffing, he smelt the hint of trees mingled mostly with warpaint against his flesh. A drum rang out behind him, then another sounded in the distance echoing it, and further out another did the same. This echoed on for a few more raps. His heart pounded in his chest, but he steeled his face.
The dark brown hair smacked the back of his tanned neck and his dark eyes scanned the woods before him. Across the grassland, they stood like a wall in the distance, dense and ominous. He had fashioned leather armor from the scaled hide of his swamp-dwelling, neighbor beast. He added stone studs to it in places that stuck out. On either side, men stood around him and he glanced out of the corner of his eyes. Younger men stationed themselves on either side of him entirely still and they both wore similar garb.
Each man painted their body with different symbols to display their strength, ferocity, or, in his case, battles fought. He used the black dye they made to draw scales against his skin where it remained exposed to the elements. Each drawn shape represented the number of times that he challenged a Deceived in combat and won. To his right, Paako Saàchalkoorrich Tínafsorlor, whom he lovingly calls Hatchling, dyed his face with ferocious teeth in the hope of scaring his enemies.
Hatchling's eyes widened as a horn sounded in the distance. Lootookcholatnapàrooti placed his hand on the young man's shoulder and smiled. Not showing his teeth, the sparkle in his eyes faded as quickly as it came. Recalling his first battle, the now chief, captained his line then. He hoped he could offer as much hope as the chief did then.
"Hatchling, I understand. This is your first bout with the Deceived. The tales we've weaved of them are terrifying and vicious. I must tell you, those tales are half true, but the half is still terrible" Lootookcholatnapàrooti's eyes trained on the forest head of them across the clearing. Any motion in the trees hid from his view and he sensed it lingered beyond the tree line, in the underbrush.
“Rows-in-loud-waters”, which Lootookcholatnapárooti meant, said Hatchling, “I don’t like the nickname. I am strong and proven in the tests.” Rows-in-loud-waters almost heard the pout on the young warrior's face. Smirking, he gave the young soldier a soft elbow to the ribs. “You’ve fought them enough times. How well do you know their tactics?”
Choosing to ignore the dislike of the nickname and how proven he may or may not be, Rows-in-loud-waters answered, "More than fought them. I engaged the enemy when the sundering happened, those years ago, when the clans had made it across Saàronit and into the valleys of the east. When Kolotatliíchiit revealed himself as the spirit of lies and trickery known to us as Naríhììnanathìnafòò”, chortled Rows-in-loud-waters. His mind rowed back to the day on the ship of his mind through the sea of memories. Every day, the river of life eroded them from his mind and they became less and less tangible.
The young man remained silent but peered from the corner of his sockets with intent. The horn blew again and the wind howled against the dusk sky. Rows-in-loud-waters guarded the lands of the tribe for several years, being an ‘eye in the swamp’. The Deceived envied Eversun and believed it promised to them instead of the men around him now. They fell, though, tainted themselves with the lies of the evil their false god fed them. The land of ever-sun had been promised for believers of the beat-giver, not the nest-stealer.
The horn sounded again, this time a bit closer. Rows-in-loud-waters tensed his hand around the shoulder of the young man again, in an attempt to reassure him. He worried the giant they built in tales to keep children near the settlements, backfired in moments like these. Fear, if unchecked by faith and courage created by faith, ravaged a man and tore through his resolve like the monsters created in stories of the age past and gone. “I have heard the Deceived are industrialized people with forges and explosives.”
"They hold fewer explosives and kilns as they once operated in the realms of Setting-Sun and the Teal Forests. We all practiced forging or so I’m told. The sundering was a quick bout of brother against brother and clan against clan. At the base of the white-ridged mountain, where the Nòònchààrrílììsììnat dwelt, we fought for what seemed like hours. We fought until our muscles ached, until our bones hurt, and until our lungs screamed for relief. In the end, Kolotatliíchiit fell and their usurper king called the retreat", he retold the story, holding on to the ax in his hand, keeping it at the ready in his off-hand. "The spirit of Naríhììnanathìnafòò spread over those who lost their way and inhabited all of them. It spread like sickness and as they fled, it fled with them." He shook his head and removed his hand from the young man's shoulder. "Half the priests left with them, and four of the seven first tribes dictated by Wááchlachtat, the great beat-giver."
Hatchling murmured a short prayer, both, Rows-in-loud-waters thought, in reverence for the name of their god but also the fear his heart currently harbored. "And they come now astride giant wolves, Rows-in-loud-waters and hunt in the dusk to find weaknesses in our resolve and steal into the land of promise. There they hope to kill our king, our clan chiefs, and place themselves at the seat of it all. How many times have they tried?" Fear waivered in the voice of the young man, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. They both did. The last they needed, Rows-in-loud-waters thought, wolf-mounted cavalry running them down while they stared into one another's eyes.
"Since the sundering", Rows-in-loud-waters asked and pondered in silence. The horns dinned again and got a bit closer. "In a host of the size the scouts report? Here I face them a second time, but they have always sent scouts almost yearly and they try skirmishes against us almost every five years. So in the twenty years since the sundering, there have been four skirmishes and two battles. Neither side seemed eager to meet the other in open war." To keep the young man from falling deeper into despair, Rows-in-loud-waters kept to himself the assumed reason. The potential allied dark powers of the Deceived deterred the king and the clan leaders from open war. They feared, maybe rightfully so, that the enemy sought other children of Naríhììnanathìnafòò like the Chììktonààn with their horrid owl-shaped faces and wrinkled talon-like hands.
Though none have seen a Chììknààn in a generation, tales of their malice lingered around the fires of public areas. Elders spun tales of heroes fighting the demi-god-like beings. Their eyes could see a spirit walker, and their strength could wrestle to the ground men twice their size. The claws, razor-sharp on each wrinkled and pimpled hand, extended its arm into the spirit world itself and could yank a spirit walker out from between the realms.
He ventured to guess the enemy refused open war with them because of the fear of the great beat-giver intervening against them, as he had done at the sundering. Spirits of the eagle, the buffalo, and the snake descended from the skies and took shape around them. The eagle came to the aid of the great teacher and fought with him against the enemy. The sight still filled Rows-in-loud-waters with awe and fear. These great spirits with such power existed in their realm - the Wààchlachtatpààtiit. Who knew what else existed beyond the reaches of the seas and northern mountains? The horn blew again, but this time it had not moved. He grabbed the other hatchet on his belt with his right hand.
"They're stalling", Hatchling breathed out, almost in a whisper as if he dared not alert the enemy to his position...
"They are and it is not like them to do so. But remember the spirit of our clan. We watch like the eye in our banner. We wait. We strike. Let the panther clan hunt through the woods and draw them out. We are to wait here." Rows-in-loud-waters convinced himself but pondered what the spirit-walkers of the panther clan waited for, or worse if the Chììktonààn horde lingered within the enemy host and snatched them from between the material and immaterial. "We wait." He echoed again and stood at the ready. The scales on his armor glinted in the setting sun to their left as it sank over the rolling hills at the place where the mountains met the lowlands and fled into the prairies.
A sea of pinks, reds, and oranges washed over the sky to the left of them as they faced north. The sun sat at the bottom of it all, at the horizon in the planes before the Saàronit. He failed to see it but, past the seas of grass - it sank. The sun sought its evening home beyond the lands of teal forests and red cliffs. In the land of gold and beautiful ridged coastlines. It almost yanked him away from the battle before him. It almost drew him away from the moment.
"So they're not as bad as you've told me my whole life?"
"They're bad, but they're human. They bleed and die like you do. The tales your elders have taught you as a child have not been altogether false or altogether true. They *do* practice human sacrifice of those they capture", Rows-in-loud-waters stated. He hid the fact they often sacrificed young children of their clans in the event they captured no one. "But they are not able to speak with wolves or command spiders. These are lies for story-telling effectiveness."
The young man grinned, "Ah then I will bring back my weight in scalps and wolf heads to the feasts of the return party." The young man raised his hatchet in response. "Each being an honor to my family and a possible trophy to convince Fóó Pafààlktiit Tínafsorlor to ask me to give her a name. Been courting her for two years now, and she still hasn't asked me. Perhaps this shows her my ability to provide and protect." Rows-in-loud-waters nodded. Sometimes spoils of war could convince a woman to request a naming. He wondered if women had it better in their tradition of naming. A woman received her name from her husband at the naming ceremony, but a man got his name from his peers. One bad name could stick forever.
His eyes scanned over to Chàànatatnafsorhapààt, named for hiding during a skirmish with the Deceived a handful of years ago. At least his name, he thought, sat in the middle of the road. Not too over the top to be too ridiculous but not to note some character flaw. Once given a name, your name stuck with you for the rest of your life. Shaking his head, he heard screams in the woods before them. "Get ready", he squatted in his ready position. Silence oozed over the field as the sun made a half-eye like of their banner against a pink sky.
"Fóó pafààlktiit tínafsorlor, I will bring you back spoils! I will show you I am a man to father your children", the young man mimicked the position Rows-in-loud-waters took. The two of them stood side by side. "Wááchlachtat, please be with us. Guide our strikes. Smite our foes", the young man glanced up at the sky. Rows-in-loud-waters followed his gaze with his own eyes and witnessed a single eagle flying overhead. “A good omen”, he noted. "He is with us", the young man shouted and pointed up to the sky. "He. Is. With. Us." The fervor spread through the line as men glanced up to spot the eagle before it disappeared.
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Hatchling. Have faith, but the battle is not yet over. Wááchlachtat is not ours to master. We are his. His will is not ours. He will do as he wishes with this day." Then they came. Oversized wolves burst from the treeline and the men in the front of the formation readied their spears. "When the charge breaks, move with me. Understood, Hatchling", Rows-in-loud-waters asked. The young man nodded a response and the two of them faced their full attention to the front. Drums around them wailed with each passing moment and the panther clan did their duty - pinching the Deceived and drawing them out.
Rows-in-loud-waters smelled them before they got close enough to attack. They reeked of sulfur, oxidized iron, and sweat. Of all the deceits sown by the evil spirit, the greatest blazed fire and iron. Though he lived too few years to have experienced the splendors in the teal forests. The forest they laid bare, the mountains and valleys they flattened to build large metal works. All of this culminated in the great lie the beat-giver gave them conquest as a purpose. Their people knew the truth as inherited from the great beat-giver. Upon creation, he gifted man with more than a heartbeat, but also a goal, a purpose, and a stewardship over the world. The Deceived abandoned it and clad themselves in metal armor atop their steeds.
Charging furred beasts broke against the spears of the stag clan who had adorned their heads with antlers and little white speckled furs along their backs. Wolves howled and snapped their jaws at them as they died against the spears. The drool from their large agape mouths dripped onto the stag clansmen and drenched their armor. The area around Rows-in-loud-waters filled with the reek of wet dogs, which, smelled more pleasant than their riders.
One Deceived soldier, overlapping plated armor, hopped from his beast as it hit the spears, and landed behind the line, rolling as he did so. Tumbling to his feet, he drew two swords made of crude metal and eyed around the Rows-in-loud-waters and Hatchling. He licked his filed-down teeth and stepped forward to the two of them. The smell shifted back to the scent of sulfur and rust. Evil, its stench, hung to the Deceived.
Rows-in-loud-waters turned to face him and tugged Hatchling to do the same. The two of them flicked their hatchets in their hands and semi-circled the Deceived man This outsider appeared like they did: dark tanned skin, darker hair, dark eyes, and markings along his skin denote his tribe. This one hailed from the wolf tribe, which drew its heraldry from the initial Coyote tribe of Kolotatliíchiit. "Traitors", the wolf warrior shouted and raised his sword to charge forward. Rows-in-loud-waters noted the warrior before them bore the scarred claws of the man-butcher on his face. Three scarred lines trailed down his face and missed his eyes by a half-inch.
Other men broke through the formation of spearmen at the front of the line. One by one, more Deceived lingered into the lines of their tribe and the tempest of blades and shields whirled to life. Swords clanked against hatchets, spears against armor, and maces against faces. He heard the crunch of bone under the pressure of horse hooves. The air filled with the smell of metallic liquid, not like rust but a bit more like copper.
Hatchling and Rows-in-loud-waters moved in and, like the jaws of the mighty alligator spirit, pinched the Deceived warrior between themselves. Hatchling threw a slashing move with one of his hatchets, preparing a parry with the other arm. As he did so, Rows-in-loud-waters lunged forward and hacked hard downward to put a severe dent in the helmet of the enemy. The outsider struggled between them. He blocked one blow from Rows-in-loud-waters, then turned around to parry a blow from Hatchling. Sparks flew off the crude metal weapon as their chiseled stone axes hit it. The two of them stepped back from the Deceived outsider before he could counterattack.
Charging in again Hatchling dented his armor, leaving scuffs and scratches, while the enemy pushed Rows-in-loud-waters back away. "Traitors? You fight for the enemy, cousin!" Regardless of how far out the family they believed all clans related through the first men created by the beat-giver. "Turn your heart to Wááchlachtat and see! See the error of your ways and your kindred, they betrayed our ways and clung to Kolotatliíchiit even when revealed himself as the enemy!"
"Kolotatliíchiit was a hero, a paragon of our people! He hunted and slew the Chììktonààn. He mastered the realm given to us and showed us how to bend it to our will", with each phrase the enemy slammed his sword against Hatchling. Raising both his axes to catch the oncoming slash, Hatchling grunted as each hit staggered him backward.
"Perhaps it is not ours to shape?" Hatchling posed the question now and pride welled up in Rows-in-loud-waters’s heart. The young one came to grasp the purpose, the great mission for all of the men on Laaliíoota, one of them anyway. They lived in harmony with nature, not against it, not bending mountains to their will. To protect the young soldier, he jabbed forward with the ax in his main hand and moved back. It acted as a deterrent to pressing the young soldier further.
Around them, the din of battle drowned out the sounds of any other thoughts or fears. The Deceived soldier before them held their full attention. Another enemy sped toward them but caught a spear in the back of the neck. It pierced through him and pinned him to the ground. Gurgling nearby, he struggled and flailed his arms against the ground. A pool of crimson soaked the grass.
"Why", he pushed back Hatchling with his foot. "Would the beat-giver", he slashed and cut a gash in Rows-in-loud-water’s arm. "Give us", he kicked again trying to keep Hatchling back. "a realm to exist in. He wants us to conquer it."
Glancing at the blood running from his arm, Rows-in-loud-waters shook his head. "Then you are lost, cousin. The beat-giver never commanded us to conquer anything. He asked us to live in love with one another, to defend the wilds and beauty he created, and to worship him." Rows-in-loud-waters spun his hatchets around his hands and stepped back. Love of nature, love of others, and love of Wááchlachtat existed as the key commands of their god. The spirits echoed this in their defined sub-goals for each clan.
"Cousin", Rows-in-loud-waters said, "I will ask you once more to lay down your arms and come to try and reform... And we will see to it you are integrated with your people. That you see the truth and the life." In all ways, if possible, he felt required to extend out to the lost and try and pull them back to the way. His eyes met the Deceived man’s eyes and they shared a moment. Contemplation washed over the features of the enemy for but a moment as he narrowed his eyes to Rows-in-loud-waters.
"Never. Your way is a lie. Designed to deceive us." He kicked Hatchling back away again when the gap between them closed, then turned and charged. Rows-in-loud-waters and the enemy met at full force. The two of them traded blows. A slash on the cheek of the Deceived, bleed and he could see the ivory teeth within his joules. He hissed with pain and stepped back again. Droplets of blood oozed from the wound of the enemy’s mouth and down his chin. He reached up and wiped the blood away and licked into the wound with his tongue.
Hatchling charged at him from behind and jumped up into the air to attempt to plunge his axes upon the Deceived's shoulders with two raking blows. Rows-in-loud-waters rose his axes to try and deter the young warrior from his actions against the Deceived. With sudden premonition and supernatural celerity, the Deceived turned around and jammed his sword upwards in a single motion. Hatchling stopped in his tracks, his body caved save for the spasms. The pain must have racked him as he shuddered when the enemy pulled the blade out and fell to the ground.
"No!" Rows-in-loud-waters shouted and charged, but even as he charged forward Hatchling continued to fight. Standing from his prone position, he struck the Deceived in the back of the leg with his hatchet and it bit into him. Crimson liquid sprayed out onto the ground, but he pressed against his abdomen with his left arm. Slashing with the other arm in rapid succession. They wasted too much time, thought Rows-in-loud-waters and he needed to press the combat now. The enemy must fall before Hatchling expired.
Rows-in-loud-waters smacked him with the flat side of his weapon so he turned back around. The blood of his fellow clan mate dripped from the crude metallic blade. The air smelled of rusted metal. Fuming inside, Rows-in-loud-waters swung his weapon again and cleaved through the enemy's collarbone. The Deceived’s neck slacked and the weapon fell to his side. Ringing against his armored thigh, the sword clacked there, tapping as the enemy struggled to hold on.
Heaving for breath, Hatchling continued slashing with his axes and making deep cuts against the enemy until he stopped moving. Blood, a mixture of his own and the Deceived’s covered his face and shoulders. His body rested over the Deceived’s body and he lay there motionless. The battle swirled around them, cousin against cousin. Night fell around them and the three sister moons lit the darkness. The pale, vulnerable light glinted off crude metal and seeped into obsidian weapons.
Rows-in-loud-waters dropped to his knees beside the two bodies as Hatchling gasped for breath. The battle waged on, but numbers weighed on their side. The Deceived brought a thousand men to this battle, where they fielded three times. His ally wrapped both arms around his stomach to try and slow the bleeding.
"Rows-in-loud-waters, tell Fóó Pafààlktiit Tínafsorlor I wish I could have made it back to her. This", he lifted the scalped hair of the enemy soldier on the ground beside him, "is for her." He placed the skin and braided hair into Rows-in-loud-waters’s hand. "Tell her", he coughed, "I would have named her... The most poetic names." The scalp’s blood leaked from the cracks in his hands and down his wrist.
Wrapping his fingers around the other man's hand, Rows-in-loud-waters nodded his head. "What would have named her, Hatchling?" He squeezed as the young man faded a bit more, though he looked far older now than he had ever looked at him before. The mission at the moment remained to keep the young man from dying in fear and panic. Blood gushed from the open wound under his rib cage.
"I would have named her for the way the crickets sing in the summer as the sun sets under the moss-draped trees - Saàriifòònaforchiínaforchiit. I could have named her for the light reflected in her eyes as the fire burns under a full moon and frogs croak out beats for our souls to dance to. I would have named her", he gurgled blood between the words, "queen of my heart - Kiwáátattalkti. Most importantly, Rows-in-loud-waters, I would have named her my wife..."
"I know, friend. I know. I will tell her", blood leaked from the scalp in his hand and down his wrists as he pulled Hatchling's head into his lap. "Rest now, friend." Rows-in-loud-waters leaned in close to his friend and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around the wound with him and tried to provide him warmth as all the blood left his body. The savage blade of the enemy, ripped as it came out. Shuddering, Hatchling closed his eyes, knowing the end came soon.
"Tell her", he whispered again.
"I will", Rows-in-loud-waters responded.
The battle wrestled to an end with the final Deceived being chased away from the battle lines and into the woods where the Panther clan decided to let them go further by themselves. Rows-in-loud-waters watched from his place on the ground and hand on the side of Hatchling's cheek. A set of footsteps jingled through the battlefield behind him, but he kept his face downcast. A clattering of bones against quartz rung with each step. Blotting out the light from the moon, a shadow towered over him.
"Rows-in-loud-waters, losing a soldier in your line is unforgettable and crushing of the spirit, but he is not gone forever. You will see him again when we return to the beat-giver and live with him in the land of peace. Do distress yourself." The chief of the alligator clan knelt and placed a hand on Rows-in-loud-waters’s shoulder. He remained silent for some time, and Rows-in-loud-waters continued to look at the young man who served beside him.
"He fought valiantly, but even in the halls of the beat-giver he will be unnamed."
"Because he has not earned a name? Do you believe he has not earned a name, Rows-in-loud-waters? I hardly think that is fair." The chief shook his head and clicked his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly. Rows-in-loud-waters placed both hands of his friend on his chest and then placed his arms at his sides to shake out the anxiety and pent-up energy there.
"But, Leans-on-the-spirit, no one named him in life. He would not know it when we meet him in the halls of the beat-givers home. How would he answer". At this question, the chief sat and nestled into the ground near Rows-in-loud-waters. Squeezing his shoulder with his hand, and looked into the warrior's eyes.
Removing his hand from the shoulder of Rows-in-loud-waters he lifted the hand of Hatchling to his lap and took in a deep breath. "Do you imagine the names we give one another are for them to know who they are? Do you think our understanding of self is so small we have to have our brothers explain our behavior to ourselves?"
"So the names we give one another are for those around us."
"They're not for the beat-giver to know us", the chief chortled in response. "He already knows who we are before any name is given." The chief looked into Rows-in-loud-waters’s eyes and Rows-in-loud-waters sensed a tenderness and joy in the life of the man which grew in him like a ripened fruit. Here, the fruit offered out to him in guidance and words. “He knew us before the foundation of Laaliíoota and before the breath of the first man”
“Then I have a name for him.”
The chief motioned his hand. “Go on, Rows-in-loud-waters. He fought his trial against the Decieved. He may not have survived, but as far as I am concerned. He passed the test.”
Rows-in-loud-waters pondered for a moment and then closed the eyes of Hatchling on his lap. The wreckage of the battle around them reeked of shit and blood. "Goodbye, Nilchiiltatnawànàt." He inhaled and let out a long sigh. It ripped through him. He sobbed and tears dropped. "Goodbye..." The name echoed in his mind, and the meaning of the syllables slammed together. *Goodbye*, he thought, *Goodbye Died-in-honors-of-all.*
The chief bent over him, wrapping his arms around him and holding his shoulders. "We will see him again. I promise." Standing, he turned his back to Rows-in-loud-waters and looked over the battlefield. "Many of the men who died here will be seen again. Some will be seen in the final moments of the Last End. When we line up before the beat-giver he unfurls the hide of our hearts and examines the colors we dyed there. Should he find there are more colors of lust, hatred, envy, or pride than of love for one another and Him... We will have to answer for that."
Rows-in-loud-waters rose behind him and looked over the battlefield, he knew even the Deceived, flawed, and wrong, stood before the judgment of the beat-giver, regardless of their beliefs. Mangled men lay with broken arms and legs twisted in unnatural directions. The great wolves splayed out with matted fur and broken jaws. He scanned the carnage and another tear came along the curve of his cheek. "Will they attack again?" The sound of men directing clean-up echoed throughout the mass grave before him.
"The enemy will continue to push, ever-escalating the power at his disposal until he is finally defeated in the final moment of the Last End." The chief of the alligator clan offered his words and it warmed Rows-in-loud-waters' heart.
"I don't understand why we must wait for the living spirit of the forest to take on human flesh to defeat Naríhììnanathìnafòò'', a hint of anger rose in Rows-in-loud-waters’s voice as he placed his hatchets back against the belt that held his pants in place. "Why can we not hunt the enemy." He kicked the head of one of the enemy soldiers near him, forgetting his place and not respecting the dead that now belonged to the spirits.
"Even if you hunted every vessel of evil. Even if you slaughtered all the clans of Chììktonààn. You would remain with yourself and the evil in your blood and heart." The chief’s mouth twitched a bit, as he knelt and placed the enemy’s head back where it lay before the kick.
Rows-in-loud-waters took a step back, staggered by the thought he harbored some part of Naríhììnanathìnafòò in himself. "What do you mean? I have never accepted the tenets of evil. I do not forsake my vow to stewardship. I do not forsake my family. I do not forsake my god." He listed out the beliefs every man of the tribe agreed in their ideology. But the chief shook his head in response.
"You are thinking too largely, my friend." The chief pointed softly to the muscles over the heart of Rows-in-loud-waters and pointed out to the battlefield for them both to see. "It is not these large acts, though terrible, that will weigh our hearts with the ink of debt. It is the small ones. Like putting your wants above your wife's needs. Or talking back to your parents. The taint of Naríhììnanathìnafòò is in all of us from the earliest days of his coming to us. Big and small all these evils stain our hearts the same. The smaller ones are easier to commit."
"I... I don't know what to say", Rows-in-loud-waters stammered and stared down at his own feet.
The chief shrugged his shoulders. "Seldom does anyone. It is hard to imagine the taint or the extent of contamination that exists in the world. What we can do is attempt to bring our cousins back into the fold, so to speak, and lead them to a life of stewardship over the realm Wááchlachtat has given to us." The chief’s eyes closed and he mumbled under his breath. Turning again, he left the battlefield and the warrior behind him.
The banners flapped against the wind as they packed up. Men from each clan gathered the dead they had and placed them either over the backs of horses or over their shoulders. The three sisters, moons each larger than the last, trailed across the sky in various phases. Rows-in-loud-waters chose to carry Nilchiiltatnawànàat instead of casting him to the side on the back of a horse. The man's limp arm fell down Rows-in-loud-waters’s back and blood dripped. It trickled the sections of bare skin on Rows-in-loud-waters’s back.
They marched on into the night, headed back south toward their families in Eversun and the drums played a slow, solemn tone with each step they made through the woods. His eyes scanned from person to person. All their eyes cast down to the ground as if looking to make sure they would not trip and fall, but he knew they felt the pain of losing a young one or an unnamed one, or even a brother or a friend.
As they marched, the air started to smell more like home and less like sulfur and metal. The hint of pines, the stench of swamplands, and the sound of water lapping against the sides of shallow ponds in the soft wind. An inhale drug air into his lungs and past his nose where he sniffed the familiar smell of rotted leaves. As they left, he heard a voice from his left. When he turned to face and looked at the voice, no one stood in the darkness of the trees. A voice in his ear, or his heart, told him all calmed for now.

Originally posted by jGatzB.
Through the decades of combined Board & Bureau Operations Reports, there has only been a single mention of an Eldritch Spider sighting--a belated depiction of the event that transformed Jesse Gatz before appropriating the name jGatzB. No other operator has ever witnessed a creature like it, in the alleyspace or any cabinet reality, therefore this report remains unverified.
Gatsby describes his initial weeks in The Arcade as a Nomad, before an encounter with a Nothing Machine (NM #001 - CENTRAL NETWORK) seems to have snapped him back to consciousness. He spent the following days carefully inspecting his surroundings and becoming familiar with them, returning to the Nothing Machine frequently as a means of restoring his focus. During this time, he describes playing various machines using scavenged quarters, in an attempt to root out some escape-room style design that might be solved to escape. Gatsby does not recall finding a Token, and was likely not paying much attention to the difference in coin discovered in the dark, but we believe his encounter with the Tabula Librum cabinet to have been the first near-incursion into a cabinet reality.
Gatsby describes attempting to play a Gauntlet styled arcade cabinet, covered in 80's D&D-style artwork and labeled "Tabula Librum." In his belated report of the event, "The machine boots, goes to white, goes to black, and then--I don't know how to say this--but the screen turned a color I have never seen before. I can't even describe what color it was. I just know it was extremely vivid, like the saturation was cranked out, but the hue value was unfathomable." He describes being mesmerized by the sight during what we now understand to be the "entry window." As no attempt to enter the machine was made, something instead made the attempt to climb out.
"This fat spider-leg comes jutting out of the screen--like, black and chitinous, but glistening with this blue-green mucus. Then another one, and another one, and then the thing's pulling itself out through the static, snapping its fangs at me and moving faster than anything I've ever seen. It bit me on the left shin, right through my pants leg--and when it bit me, it felt like the way dial-up tone SOUNDS. Like I had stuck a fork into an electrical socket the moment the edible hit. I remember my pants leg burning off first, and my left pocket buzzing like my phone was finally working--except it was pulling away from me like something was trying to fly out of my pocket. I felt a different sensation rush through me then, and when those feelings started to mesh together, I passed out."
We know that at that moment, Super64 turned the corner, saw the spider, grabbed it by the skull and crammed it back into the cabinet screen. It struggled, nearly matching Super's strength before Super finished the chicken philly in his left hand and began shoving with both free hands. Afterwards, Super unplugged the machine, tacked up an "Out of Order" sign, and left. Having not yet formally met Jesse Gatz, he simply presumed this stranger to be dead.
"When I woke up--and it took a long time for me to really feel AWAKE--my body was gone. I don't know how else to describe it, except like logging into a match in-progress as a spectator. When I looked down, there was no one there, but I could feel myself--like I was invisible. It wasn't until I headed back into the darker hallways that I started to see myself too--only I wasn't myself anymore. I had become..." //Gatsby motions to himself// "...this hole, right? I'm like a hole with a purple nebula on the other side. And of course, if the light is right, you can still see the features of my face. I have an outer shell, right? But it isn't skin anymore. My hair isn't really hair. But it's all retained its correct shape and dimensions. I weigh the same, if that makes any sense. I can eat, drink, gain, and lose weight. My body functions, but isn't there. I am the hole where Jesse used to be."

What does the April 29th article really say about what the Bible (and the org) thinks of women? The article is Women’s Safety—The Bible’s Perspective.
The first thing to note is the audio of the article is read by Anthony Griffin, including all the quotes by women. Their voices are replaced by a man's voice. That's because the organization usually only lets women read female life stories or articles about the natural world. But this is a "teaching part", so it's men only. The article has three key subheadings:

What is God’s view of women? Scripture: “Male and female [God] created them.”—Genesis 1:27. Meaning: God created men and women. He views them both as worthy of respect.

Their flagship scripture to show that God respects women is just that he created them, nothing more. But of course God also created everything else; including rats, jellyfish, dryer lint, and mucus. So I guess men and women are on the same level as every other creation?
In this section they provide two more scriptures to support their claim: Ephesians 5:33 which also says "the wife should have deep respect for her husband" and Colossians 3:19 where husbands are told "do not be bitterly angry" with your wife. But regular angry is okay I guess? And these are the best scriptures they can come up with to support their claim that God respects women.

What can help you to begin healing? Scripture: “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”—Proverbs 18:24. Meaning: A true friend will support you.

Once again, the scripture they use is specifically gendered in the masculine. No mention of "sister" or "sibling", just brother. And the next scriptures aren't any better. The article uses 1 Peter 5:7, which says to throw your anxieties on God. But the context two verses earlier shows this refers specifically to younger and older men, with no mention of women. There's also some generic scriptures in Psalms about prayer, and then the last section says this:

Will God ever stop the mistreatment of women? Scripture: “Jehovah . . . will render justice to the fatherless and to those who are crushed, so that mortal man of the earth may no longer make them afraid.”—Psalm 10:17, 18. Meaning: God will soon eradicate all injustice, including cruelty to and violence against women.

It should be noted that the original, more literal NWT specified "fatherless boy", since the original language was again gendered. But it's comforting to know that the same God who made the Mosaic Law will look after women in paradise. Maybe he will bring back the spirit of laws like Deuteronomy 22:28, 29 where if a man rapes a girl his punishment is to to pay money to her father and then marry her. Or Deuteronomy 21:10-14 where if a man slaughters a girl's family he can take her captive, shave her head, and then after a month (so she can grieve her slain family) he can "take her as a wife". And then he can still send her away if "he is not pleased with her". For some reason the article doesn't bring up those scriptures.
A link to the article is below (remove the b in borg).
https://www.jw.borg/en/library/series/more-topics/womens-safety-bible-perspective/

Nyrland is an ongoing modded RP server that is hosted weekly on Sundays at 2PM EST-8PM EST. The server has an emphasis on jobs as well as an economy.
The current basic requirements to join are :

• Be 18+
• Have a mic as we're be using a positional audio mod.
• Don't be a jerk.

Freeport / Town A has the following professions :

1. Blacksmith (Filled) - You hit the hot piece of metal against a cold piece of metal with yet another piece of metal.
2. Builder (Filled) - Builds.
3. Farmer (Filled) - Farms.
4. Fisherman (Filled) - Fishes.
5. Guard (1 Available) - Keeps the citizenry safe as well as a few other side-jobs.
6. Adventurer (ExploreHunter) - Will be responsible for hunting down animals, berries, ruins etc. (Filled)
7. Miner (1 Available) - Self explanatory
8. Potter (Filled) - Self explanatory
9. Tailor (1 Available) - Will be responsible for making backpacks, tanning and oiling hides & bandages.
10. Woodworker (1 available) - Harvests wood, plants trees and makes charcoal.
11. Tavern Keep (1 Available) - Makes food, booze and small talk.
12. Oddjobbers (Part-timers) - No limit - For those who wish to play on the server without committing to a single role or for the full length, they are permitted to work for any of the guilds but are not required to work for any singular one.

Dwarf Town / Town B has the following professions :

• Adventurer : Filled
• Blacksmith : Filled
• Builder : 1 Available
• Farmer : 1 Available
• Guard : 1 Available
• Mayor : Filled
• Miner : Filled
• Tavern Keeper : Filled
• Oddjobbers : No Limit.

(Each job has numerous Pros/Cons (restrictions e.g. you aren't going to be mining if you're a lumberjack.))
If you'd like to see some of what goes on the server, you can check out the following archives of previous streams/sessions:

• Zflocco (Zolgrim) - The Mayor of Freeport / Admin
• Duerag (Rock) - Freeport Guard

If you'd like to check things out or join in, you can join our Discord
F.A.Q.

• Q: "Do I have to attend every session fully"
  • A: No, partial attendance is fine, if you think you'll be missing a fair few or won't be able to attend half the session at least frequently, you should probably go "Odd-Jobber" (You're still able to do the job you want)
• Q: "What version of the game are you on?"
  • A: 1.19.7
• Q: "If I don't want to keep doing 'job' can I swap to another?"
  • A: Yes.
• Q: "Am I required to speak / Have a microphone?"
  • Ideally yes.
• Q: "What time is the session?"
  • A: 2-8PM EDT on Sundays.
• Q: "Do I have to do my job for the full duration / Can I do other jobs aside from my main one?"
  • A: No you don't / Yes, everyone is permitted at least some freedom; E.G. If you're a smith and there's no work to be done, you can talk to another guild to pitch in there.
• Q: "The job of (job here) , is listed as full, does that mean I can't do that?"
  • A: "If you do oddjobber, you'll generally be able to pitch into a job if you talk to the guild leaders.
• Q: "Are the jobs only restricted to what is on the list?"
  • A: "No, there's more jobs unlisted and if you have an idea of something you can bring it up."

Name:

Artemis Aelius , Son of Apollo
Age: 15 (going on 16)
Pronouns/identity: he/him / male
Sexuality: pansexual
Height: 5'10"
Birthday: June 2nd
Personality:
He's really rather kind, and he expresses himself through music. He enjoys talking to people and is very outgoing. He's active to a degree, but prefers to just relax. He's more laid back, he doesn't get angry often but when he does you best watch yourself.
Physical Appearance:
He's blonde, long hair that has a kind of sun-swept look to it. His 'mother' is a drummer from Hawaii, so he gets his tanned skin from him. His eyes are a deep-ish green color, like the color of emeralds. And hes always wearing the necklace that was a gift through his dad from his other dad (Apollo). He's also rather muscular for someone who doesn't work out often. He also paints his nails often. On his forearm there's a tattoo of a sun.
Family:
Mortal Father: Keanu Aelius, a popular drummer from Hawaii that travels the world often. He told Artemis about his parentage when Arty was eleven.
Godly Father: Apollo, Artemis has never met him, but he does look up to him in a way. He's optimistic that perhaps he'll meet his father one day.
Grandma: Kailani Aelius, Keanu's mother. She's still living in Hawaii and Artemis and his father would visit often. She's a big part of Arty's life and he looks up to her. She taught him how to weave.
Uncle: Kai Aelius, Keanu's transgender brother. He travels with Keanu and Artemis, he's Keanu's manager. Artemis has a good relationship with him and the two often get into playful debates over different movie characters and musicals.
Father's Boyfriend: Amon Julians, Keanu's boyfriend and Artemis's future father in law. Arty sees Amon as a father figure, and while Arty was in a private school he lived with Amon. He was homeschooled while traveling, but Amon and Keanu agreed that Artemis needed a proper education, even for a little while.
Nicknames:
*Arty
*Art
*'My sun' (Keanu's 'nickname' for him)
*Moopuna (Grandson in Hawaiian, Kailani's nickname for him.)
Powers:
Major:
-Sound Manipulation
Minor:
•Legendary Sight
Domain:
~Charioteer Proficiency
~Star Writing
~Blindness Inducement
Weapons:
A sword usually, his necklace turns into a bow though, with a supply of arrows.
Extras:
-He plays guitar, but he dabbles in the other instruments.
-At his old school, almost all of the girls seemed to have crushes on him. To him it was weird, he felt like they were always watching him, but he enjoyed helping them anyway.
-He wants to be a doctor when he's older, but he does love instruments and singing.
-If you touch his guitar without permission, you best hope he doesn't kill you.
-his hair is soft and fluffy naturally.
-He unintentionally flirts, very often.
-When he or someone else got injured, he usually hopped right to fixing them up, no questions asked.
Past:
Artemis grew up travelling. Keanu was a moving man, always packing and driving off. But he did make time for Artemis, always. He loves his son dearly. And every year they'd visit Artemis's Grandma, Kailani, atleast 3 times. She'd take them on special trips while in Hawaii, and Artemis always loved it.
While Keanu, Kai (Artemis's uncle), and Artemis were staying in Pennsylvania, they met a man named Amon. Keanu and Amon hit it off and started seeing eachother, they were a long distance relationship most of the time but they did manage visits often.
When Artemis was eleven, Keanu came clean to him about his other parent. His father, Apollo. Artemis was shocked. He'd always been interest in Greek mythology, he knew almost everything there is to know. And his dad told him that his *Favorite** God was his dad? That was pure and utterly shocking. Keanu explained to Artemis why the necklace he wore was so important to wear, and now Artemis refuses to part with it.*
When he turned 12, Keanu voiced to Amon that he wants Arty to get a proper education, for even just a year. Amon agreed and Arty lived with him for 6th grade. During that time, Amon and Arty got closer and Artemis helped Amon plan a future proposal to his father. Amon didn't want to rush anything, so he hasn't proposed yet, but Artemis helped him plan it out for the future.
The Monster:
Artemis had been sitting outside his dad's van, waiting for his dad to return from the store down the road, when a hell hound attacked him. He'd grabbed the nearest thing, a metal pipe that was lying on the ground, and hit the hound over the head. It obviously did nothing. So Artemis, in a panic, attempted to use his necklace like his dad had showed/explained to him. He touched the stone on his necklace and muttered somrthing, he's not sure exactly what it means, but it has to do with the sun. The stone dissolved and then he was holding a bow, a thing of arrows on his back. He didn't bother with the bow. He grabbed and arrow and stabbed at the hound. The hound dissolved, and Artemis stood there before his bow and arrows dissolved back into the stone that sat on his necklace. His father claimed him almost immediately, and he just stood there. Staring up at the symbol above his head.
Present time:
Artemis waved at his uncle and father, his backpack slung on his shoulder. His guitar was in its case and held at his side. His dad had insisted after the incident that he be taken to camp. 'It's safer,' was what he'd said.
"Bye, Papa!" Artemis called to his dad. "I'll see you this fall, right?"
"Of course you will, my boy," Keanu replies, smiling from the driver's seat. Artemis smiles, hitching his back up more and turning to walk up the hill, toward the campus border. Keanu watched for a moment before he drove off with a relieved sigh. His son is safe, he can stop worrying.

[First] [Previous] [Next]
Edited by sensei WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Everything had gone exceptionally well for the farmer, despite the daunting task forced into her talons. Kegara had ordered her to begin a march east in search of the expected banished by sunrise—not alone, but in a group of fourteen others. She thought it was too many for such a task, and would assuredly catch the ire of the abhorrent; the more Malkrin present, the more creatures would pursue them…
It was a risk. One she was willing to take if her beloved was safe, but he pleaded for her to find a way to avoid it. Unfortunately, were she to stay, it would land her in the worst of Kegara's rage. The orange-skinned female would have been made a gruesome example for those who disobeyed, tied up in the center of the camp and… She did not wish to think of what ghastly fate would have awaited her.
So, in the dark of night, her and the baker’s plan of escape was struck. Perhaps it was foolish to leave their safety behind, but considering the blood-moon and forced orders, was it truly ‘safe?’ They would gather their pitiful belongings and set off in the direction of the previously ostracized members—the water worshiper, and four others. There was little hope of finding them, less so after the blood-moon, but with so few of them, there was still a chance they evaded the beasts and the warped oddities of the mainland altogether. Maybe if the field hand and her mate could find them, they could start their own settlement. At least, those were her thoughts when she set out…
Her initial reaction to being thrust into the open wilderness was nothing short of horror. Indistinct animalistic screeches, otherworldly hums, and unsettling creaks from trees sent chills down her spine throughout the night. Hazy shadows underneath the dim moonlight crawled like creatures, stalking… prowling around the mated pair. Every step she made was made in pure uncertainty, every pace bringing her further into an abyss of unseen nightmares. Maybe Kegara would not have punished her so severely… Maybe it would have been best to stay where it was safe.
But, she continued. She stayed strong. She had to.
They had already ventured too far, and it was her job to protect her love. Her tail wrapped possessively around his waist as he stuck close to her. Morning would break soon, and they would be far away from the brutish paladin… Free to start anew. It would be difficult, but the two of them were far from incapable of fending for themselves; they learned enough in the way of survival from their time on the mainland and their respective professions, despite both being from the Golden City.
- - - - -
They were able to survive the night, persevering well into the day by making crude implements and harvesting what they could. They had even managed to discover a large cave perfect for their habitation! It was dry and large enough for a fire, though it went deeper than expected. Food and cooking arrangements were their prerogatives, so they elected not to scour it any further as it would only be a waste of their time. They worked tirelessly until the sun set beyond the red expanse of trees. Her love busied himself with making the smooth gray walls into a home by gathering small resources and forming makeshift beddings, while she had gone out to hunt. By the luck of the Mountain God, she managed to bring back not one but two feathered creatures, each of which were more than plump enough to feed the mated pair for the evening.
Her aching feet patted against the grass, the blades poking her worn soles. The vegetation swayed from side to side in the weak breeze, almost appearing to celebrate her small victory with her. The cavern entrance came into view, its shape too small for her frills to fit under. The edges were covered in pinkish moss, giving it a distinct feel compared to the rest of the biome. Perhaps it was a sign of the Mountain God’s will for them to inhabit it. The moist malleable moss stretched further inside, resembling small veins inside the larger chasm.
She ducked underneath the mouth of the cave, appreciating the yellow reflections of an ongoing fire from within, each flick casting long shadows over every rock edge. Yet once she entered the homely cavity, the flames were the only thing present… Her eyes scanned the room for Baker, only finding an unused leafy bed, piles of edible berries, and a stack of wood. A shock of anxiety bolted up her spine, sharply settling on her frills like cold ice. Where was her mate?
She stepped forward, her webbed toes pressing into… liquid. Her eyes shot toward the ground, the orange-skinned female only now realizing how slick the floor really was. Viscous moisture clung to her leg, stretching across like mucus. The room was… dry before. Her initial thought that it was blood, but that was easily proven false by the thin film’s clear color. That did not ease her worries, however; her betrothed was still out of sight. Perhaps he left to forage, or was possibly looking for her?
A deadened wet thwack from further inside the cave echoed throughout the room, drawing her attention and causing her ears to perk up. Baker…?
She squinted down the black corridor, its sturdy stone now only reflecting the low howl of the cavern’s natural wind. Her eyes stayed locked on it as she slowly grabbed a makeshift torch and set it alight with the campfire. It had to have been her mate down there. Perhaps the tunnel curved so that she was unable to see his torchlight? What was he doing in the dark? Was he searching for something? Food perhaps?
She was already heading toward him before she considered any other possibility. Short drips accompanied her footfalls into the talon-width thick liquid that proliferated along the ground, grabbing onto her every time she raised her foot with a disgusting sucking noise. Her skin soon felt a similar spreading moisture from the humid cave, a low heat building up as she went. It would have been welcoming if not for the sick feeling that settled in her stomach.
The flickers of her torch illuminated the smooth cave walls and the ever-present pink moss that accompanied them. The ‘flora’ grew in volume and presence, stretching everywhere in random lines, often crossing and connecting with one another into larger segments. It eventually lost its fuzzy texture, only a moist reflective red taking its place. The way it almost appeared to… pulse in sync with the surrounding ambience only furthered the notion of veins and arteries…
A creeping sense of wrongness etched itself in her mind. Her ears slowly drooped down and her back hunched as her wide eyes failed to make out anything a pace or two in front of her. She scoured the blackness for anything and everything as the stone path ebbed and flowed, bringing her further down into the heart of Ershah.
thwack
A startling yet familiar noise halted her advance. She stepped back, swiveling her head around wildly to locate its source. Nothing made its presence known. There was only a permeating darkness within the… tunnel… She froze. When did the corridor become so large? Just before, she was able to stretch her arms to reach both sides of the walls, but now… Now it was open like the ocean, the blackness surrounding her entirely, obscuring… everything. She couldn’t see the entrance, nor the ceiling. Her pitiful torch illuminated the ground below her and nothing more.
Plip... Plip… Plip. The dripping continued, now suddenly an overbearing presence… like that of a predator’s breath riding down one’s neck.
Her breathing quickened, eyes widening. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Hesitant paces backward drew her into what she presumed was the direction she came from. It was no use. Further and further she went into the abyss, finding nothing but more of the tenebrous expanse.
The only true sense afforded to her was hearing… Every stifled breath, every wet footstep, and every flick of her torch felt deafening and… revealing. She was but a spark in the wider cavern, waving herself down as prey in the unseen eyes of what awaited her. Something could have been right behind her, and she would have been none the wiser… especially with no wall to guard her back…
A shiver ebbed through her frills. Would it be wise to suffocate her only flame to cover her presence? She stopped her palm from doing so, realizing that the fire was her only light. If its illumination perished, she would be trapped in the abyss with no way out… She needed to leave. She had to find the tunnel. It was—
“Fa…r...mer?” a voice croaked out, its intent shaky and bogged down in black tar.
Her shoulders stiffened, back straightening as she turned toward its direction. It was… Baker’s… but it felt uncanny… foreign. Was that even his? It had to be. M-Maybe he was harmed, too injured to move? Perhaps it was a broken frill? It would make sense. She had to find her mate… no matter how much his pained voice terrified her. That was why she was here in the first place…
The thickness of the viscous ground liquid increased as nervous footsteps brought her closer, the air around her getting warmer with each pace. She called out hesitantly, praying for a positive response.
“B-Baker? Are you there?”
Another wet, fleshy sound echoed through the large cavern, followed by a sickening crack. Then, his voice returned. It was much clearer this time, despite the aura of unsettling… distortion to it.
“Come… closer.”
Her steps were tentative, but she continued forward. Everything around her screamed something was amiss, but that painful string in her heart told her to never let her lover go. He was in pain. He was clearly suffering. Why should she ignore the one who warmed her heart with a simple smile just because she was perturbed by unproven nervousness?
Labored breaths filled her ears as she descended a small incline toward her mate. The shin-high murky liquid at the bottom was ignored, only becoming a small nuisance as her long strides carried her across the unknown fluid. Her motions caused it to sway in all directions, the ripples and turbidity preventing her from seeing what caused the squishy feeling beneath her feet. It smelled putrid, though not like that of rot… The scent was something she could not place, yet it was consuming with how it pierced her nostrils with its presence. It hardly mattered. She was close to him, she could feel his very presence in front of her. She could almost hear the breathing of…
Her torch lit up a rock… no… a figure. It was upright, but its head was pointing downwards. She couldn’t see the legs well, but she did notice how its… his familiar gray arms hung limply.
Baker!
Joy and anxiousness ran thick within her intent. “My dear! Are you okay? W-What has happened to you?”
She received no response for an unsettlingly long moment before his head shook… loosely… Like that of a puppet, reminding her of the black abyss that surrounded everywhere his body was not… It hid something.
“Come… Closer.”
“…W-What? No… M-My Dear… I…” In a moment of fear she raised her torch closer, illuminating everything.
Flesh surrounded him wholly, replacing his legs with undulating tubes and wet meat. Tendrils attached to his back, pulsing from their ceiling-bound origins. His limp arms moved slowly… falling… melting. The very skin slopped off onto into the pile of red beneath him with a sick thwack.
She jumped backwards, but the viscous liquid beneath her held tight. She couldn’t move. Her torch flickered and flared as she fumbled with her footing.
Lumps and nodules swelled from that thing’s chest, the very organs within rearranging. Deafening cracks and vile squelching echoed. The skin down his center slowly tore itself apart, strings of sinew breaking like twine to reveal malformed limbs within.
She ripped her legs from the grappling pond beneath, doing everything in her power to turn away.
But it was no use.
Bolts of force perforated her body. Agony seared every surface of her body.
The chest had burst open, sending several tendrils right through her. They squirmed and extended into her, moving like worms. They ripped and melded to her own flesh. Roaring pain flowed through her being like fire and lightning, consuming her wholly.
She screamed, but nothing escaped her lungs. Blood and tissue filled them. She needed to rip at the invading terror, but could not move. The red abomination pulled them for her; a sickening puppet of muscle.
Everything faded. No pain. No breathing. No sight.
The last thing she saw were the sockets in which her beloved’s gorgeous yellow eyes once laid, now replaced with pulsing meat.
She missed them… dearly.
\= = = = =
Several days of ridicule and a merciless sea voyage were sure to have an adverse effect on one’s mental state—being cast out of one’s own religion even more so. Some would perhaps cope with such by lashing out against those higher up the mountain than themselves. Others might resign themselves to prayer and labor, hoping to fit back into place within God’s graces. However, an exceptional case may change the way one perceives their circumstance.
The script-keeper and her village-mates were hardy people, having survived the worst of the Gods’ trials and then some—rogue waves from the water worshippers, grand storms from the Sky Goddess, and great famines brought from those who sinned before the Mountain God. They persevered through their community, pooling what little they had and relying upon one another to get through. She had seen it for fifty winters.
Now, eight of them have been stripped of those they became interdependent on, thrown forth into an uncertain abyss with only the clothes on their backs. Yet, by the luck of the Gods, the very shore they came upon happened to be owned by that of a diety-sent. Perhaps it was a sign from the Gods that there was hope for them yet…
And it took all of a singular night to prove that assumption correct. The four Malkrin that followed the star-sent freely regaled their struggles with the vile wilderness and the cruelty of the only other settlement before they met with the Creator. Their opinions on Kegara’s settlement were duly noted, but not taken to heart as they were just that: opinions. The script-keeper would have to see it for herself; feeble belief in the words of few should not sway the mind of someone, especially with her profession. Still, the stories of the abhorrent were taken much more seriously, since despite the confidence shared by the few females about defeating them, the elderly Malkrin could certainly see their ears droop in disquietude when the topic was broached. Furthermore, the other more elusive star-sent refused entirely to elaborate on her experience with the beasts when the paladin wrapped her into the conversation.
Fine new clothes, filling meals, and protective castles could only do so much… In the splendor and awe, the script-keeper understood it could only cover up the aching wounds each of the villagers had come here with. She knew the lumberjack quite well, commonly having to assist her with purchasing and selling items across the sea… the very same sea that now separated the woman from her mate. God knows how the wood-cutter felt now.
All the elder knew from the sparse conversations she had with the orange-skinned female was that she wished not to think of it anymore. To which, the harvester did just that, delving into the work allotted to her without a second thought, and basking in the benefits of the star-sent. Much was the same for the others from their island—their hopes of returning to the Land Kingdom having already been thoroughly sundered by the inquisitors. The script-keeper was not privy to everyone’s pains, but she knew they were similarly prepared to shelve them away in service of building themselves anew with this peculiar situation.
\= = = = =
Female Malkrin eat a lot. Seriously, all the meal boxes Harrison and Akula had prepared were ran through like crab rangoons at a buffet. There were a few left, but certainly not enough for dinner that night—and especially not for the winter, much to his displeasure. The engineer wasn’t looking forward to cooking anymore than he already had… But, he had a trick up his sleeve. Not only did the green fisherwoman know how to use the kitchen, but their little camp just so happened to have another who was experienced in the culinary arts.
Around the time they put their tools down for lunch, Harrison was approached by the pink-colored chef who was assisting with some of the masonry prior. He was apprehensive, yet his eyes were practically sparkling when he asked about the barbecue sauce, spices, and common vegetables. The engineer had a bit of time before he needed to get back to work, so he gave in. They conversed about it over their meal, the human explaining the ingredients and methods of making several types of dishes while the several Malkrin in attendance listened intently.
That was around the time he got the idea: why not have Akula teach the cook how to use the barrack’s kitchen? She was pretty reluctant to return to cooking… until he reintroduced her to her new sous-chef, giving her the task of overseeing the male’s modern culinary equipment and meat smoking tutorial.
Harrison didn’t know exactly why she seemed happier then. It could have been something about her prejudices, just having someone else to help her, or something… else… That didn’t matter to him. As long as the job was done, he was happy—especially since it meant he could focus on other projects.
Take the entire home they were building for example; it was practically completed by the time the chefs were sent off to make dinner. They were working on it since dawn—the engineer was still incapable of sleeping—digging the foundation behind the barracks, layering the brick walls, and getting the wooden supports down in record time. Having several extra Malkrin around made the labor requirement almost trivial, even if he needed to ensure they were doing the job right by constantly keeping a close eye on them. It also helped how eager some of them were to settle in with their tasks—the fisher twins and the lumberjack specifically.
The new arrivals were definitely a lot more lively than last night, that was for sure. They held onto caution in the morning, but that broke rather quickly after they got more accustomed to Harrison’s group and received basic clothing—literally just sturdy plaid shirts and black pants. Cera’s—the ceramist’s newly accepted name, created by Tracy’s shorthand of her profession—tendency to look out for the group also had a hand in the change from guarded acceptance to genuine and vocal appreciation. She did as much as she could to ease their burden by offering water or a helping hand whenever she and the lumberjack weren’t busy bringing wheelbarrows full of clay to the workshop. The two new males gladly accepted both, but the females were quite set on keeping their honor, completing their share of the work ‘with their own talons.’
Then, there was the juvenile. He didn’t want to force a kid to work, but the decision apparently wasn’t his. She quietly joined her older village-mates in hauling wheelbarrows full of bricks to and from the workshop. She didn’t seem upset nor did she seem too enthused about it. His singular attempt to persuade her otherwise was only returned with a terse shake of her head before she continued working. She didn’t like to show much emotion, that was for sure. Were all Malkrin teens like that, or was it because of her situation? Christ… the fact that she was sent to the mainland without her parents—or at all—rubbed him the wrong way. It was fucked, but at least she would be safe here… or as ‘safe’ as was possible.
That was the other job of the day: defense via the new fabricator. Tracy helped out a good bit with organizing and designing the second barracks for the first half of the day, thoroughly combing through the engineer’s ideas and ripping out the ‘brutalist’ and ‘soul-crushing’ lack of ‘real’ architecture. She inserted her own ideas, further backed up by the input of Craftsman’s prior experience, making for an admittedly more pleasant-looking layout of the house’s exterior and interior. It would end up looking vaguely like a white-brick colonial house, but with less ‘posh noble,’ instead making use of Germanic-style exterior wooden supports. It was just big enough to fit eight Malkrin-sized cots, space for movement between them, and all the basics such as lighting, airflow, and a little bit of storage on top—because, what was a building without storage? Luckily for the tradeswoman, it hardly used any more resources than his original plans, so he allowed it.
After that, Tracy realized there wasn’t much else for her to do, so she returned to their other project. The technician did well in assembling the most basic parts, working well throughout the day to complete the forging and welding components. Again, having someone else to do help with a job that big was a massive blessing, cutting off hours of time he would have had to slave away in the workshop.
Hours of time that he was able to use for overseeing the now-completed barracks, simultaneously teaching the Malkrin and getting a feel for how to best utilize their strengths with a substantial amount of help from the craftsman. The male did a bang-up job at explaining tasks and concepts to the others. Much better than Harrison was able to. Once more, it was a job the engineer was more than happy to let someone else take off his hands. The olive-colored Male was perfect for the job anyway, having the technical know-how and experience explaining similar things to Malkrin back on the islands, so the pioneer trusted the task to be completed with little issue.
Now, the day was finally reaching a close, ending with the settlement eating their dinner by the fire. There were a few more benches made to give everyone a seat. That meant the radius had to be extended somewhat, but that wasn’t anything a bigger fire couldn’t fix. Plus, the alien’s intent meant that he could still hear clearly from anyone around the pyre.
The muted sounds of silverware clanking against meal boxes and plates were muddled by the constant breeze. The flames lazily flickered in all directions, casting shadows along the flowing grass, each person in attendance being doused in a mellow orange. The Malkrin conversed with one another over their meals, each sitting in pairs on the furniture. Shar was out on guard patrol, so Tracy ended up taking the seat beside him. It was a bit of a surprise given how much she preferred to stay in the workshop, but he didn’t mind her taking a break—she deserved it. If anything, it should have been him on the fabrication floor, picking up where she left off.
“…Hey…” Tracy’s soft, worried voice took him from his thoughts.
“Hm?” He lazily looked down at the shorter woman beside him, her legs swinging as they couldn’t quite reach the ground.
She worriedly raised her brows. “You alright, dude? You’ve had some major bruised eye action going on all day. Did you even get any sleep? I didn’t even see you when I woke up.”
“No, I actually didn’t—” He held up a palm, stopping the technician’s troubled response. “—but it’s more because of that potion… thingy… Cera gave me. I don’t feel tired at all.”
Her face contorted in confusion, the shadows cast by the fire’s glow emphasizing it further. “The… potion…? Oh, yeaaaah, right. It was supposed to help you with dizziness, I think, but it also prevents you from feeling tired. How does it even feel? Like taking an energy drink, or something else?”
He held out his arm, tracing a finger along it. “I just feel like I’ve got pins and needles all along my skin… and I don’t feel like sleeping. That’s it really, so sort of like taking a bunch of caffeine.”
Her brows dropped in faux-annoyance. “That can not be healthy for you. Have you checked up on yourself with the scanner? If not for that, then at least the radiation? Maybe the fuzzy stuff is from all those grays of radiation you received?”
“I did… I did, don’t worry. The scanner had nothing besides the usual, so I guess it was just a good bit of caffeine or something… I don’t know. It’ll probably wear off soon, though.”
She nodded, returning her gaze to the fire. Her voice mellowed, just barely loud enough to reach his ears. “Good. The aliens were worried sick about you, yesterday, ya know—Shar ‘specially… and so was I…”
He hardly heard that last part, barely able to piece it together seconds after she muttered it. He wasn’t trying to make them worried, it was just a part of being on this planet. Every day was a new close call. The first blood moon, that pink monster, the workshop ambush, the second blood moon, and now the anomaly field all terrified him, haunting his very dreams with brief flashbacks of those sights and sounds. Though, they all served to teach him, forcing him to stay on his toes and never stay complacent… Which was something he was doing now.
He had plans in the works already—the new fabricator being the crux of at least half of them—but what could he do currently? How could he prepare? Or, at the very least, what could he do to advance the group further?
Their day-to-day jobs had already been discussed, plans for a new wood storage building were already made, and his work on the printer was cut out for him tonight… Okay. Well, what could he prepare for in the future? Defense? Of course, now that people were going to be out doing their own jobs, they would be too spread out to protect everyone at once.
There were two components to any solution for that problem: reconnaissance and protection. The first was self-explanatory. If he had, say, a few dozen drones scouting around where people were, it would take a lot of the surprise out of random swarms. That would give people time to either return to the castles… modules… or prepare themselves to take the bugs on. That led him to the second part. Firearms help to kill spider-crabs, but are also pretty dangerous in the wrong hands… He was more than willing to trust the Malkrin he knew with guns to defend themselves, but he couldn’t just start handing them out to strangers. Maybe in time, though. There were always other means of protection, anyway; Kegara’s camp was apparently alive and well, despite practically being from the stone ages.
Cera, Akula, and Shar were most certainly getting some firepower, that was for sure. He’d have to think about what sort of weapons would suit them. That also brought up the current metal deficit… and his gunpowder was running out quite quickly…
That was definitely something he wanted to get on before the next blood moon. He wanted to revisit that metal cave he saw when the paladin and the fisherwoman got cornered by three colossi. He hadn’t analyzed the chunk of ore he hacked off yet—he’d been pretty damn busy—so it was about time he figured out whether or not he had a nearby source of metals. It would be a damn blessing if it was aluminum or iron, despite only being a surface deposit. No matter what it was, it was sure to be of use.
Then there was the gunpowder issue. The last time he checked, there was enough to last him for at least the next blood-moon, but it wasn’t enough for several other firearms, especially if he wanted anything automatic. There were three main ingredients—potassium nitrate, sulfur, and charcoal—which were essential for the production of any explosives. Charcoal was already solved for them, and potassium nitrate could practically be made out of thin air and water, considering they were right by an ocean. Bless the Ostwald process and acid-base neutralization.
The only real issue was sulfur… Christ, natural elements sucked. Either he had to deal with excessive organic recycling of amino acids… or go and mine the stuff directly, and there weren’t any obvious volcanic deposits or fault lines around. Neither of those methods sounded great.
Again, that would have to come later. He needed that fabricator done first and foremost. Then he could deal with the assorted problems that followed it and, well, every other compiling issue. Material harvesting tools, automatic defenses, larger fortifications, and radio-protectant armor were but a few of the big-ticket items on his mind.
Cera’s concoction was still running through his veins anyway, so he might as well finish the printer while he was at it. It looked like he wasn’t sleeping tonight either.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Hard work. Good company.

Hi all. I'm currently hospitalized on IVs after a CT scan revealed a raging infection (I had no symptoms, strangely). Based on the CT scan, my doctor was convinced that Aspergillus was the cause and we proceeded to do mucus and blood tests to confirm. So far, the mucus and one of the blood results came back negative, so he said that there is no need to treat. We're waiting on the results of the anti bodies.
I wonder what it means if the aspergillus anti bodies (IGg) come back high. My doctor said that back in August 2023 I tested negative for it but I look at my file and see that the value was 43,50 mg/l at the time, and it says "Positive". Does anyone understand the discrepancy?
(It's the weekend and my doctor is away on vacation for another week, I have no one to discuss this with at the moment).
Thanks for any help!

There was a boy. I’d known him since I was 5 but it wasn’t until I was older that I truly noticed him. We were in 6th grade when we started taking an advanced math class together. I could tell he was smart, funny, and a person I’d want to be around for a long time. Middle school and all the drama that ensues during that time quickly invaded my life. My social group shifted and I found myself closer to my friend, Dakota. By the time we were in 7th grade he was tall and strong. Blond hair and a light greenish set of smart eyes. We started working together outside of school. My dad worked for his dad and I often found myself at their house. Dakota had one older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister. I’m the oldest of four so I could handle the chaos of lots of kids in a home. I had some of my most fun memories in middle school at that home. Not just me and Dakota, but with other friends we worked with, our siblings, and family friends. Nerf gun fights, swimming in the pool, and playing manhunt on the homestead that they lived on. I developed what you could consider a crush on Dakota. And the feeling was mutual. He hinted with the not-so-subtle flirting of a 14 year old boy. Pulling my hair, taking my things, and throwing snacks were often his go-to moves.
One night at a Christmas party, us “kids” were watching a movie while the adults played games and hung out in the other room. At some point, his head ended up on my lap. I remember touching his hair, but ultimately deciding I did NOT want someone to see this and assume the worse. Another time, we were alone in the basement. The basement was the place of all our friend hangouts. The video and board games were down there, along with the nerf guns. One night we were on the couch showing each other memes from our iPod touches. We were laughing and joking, then he handed me his iPod to read the next one. Except this wasn’t a meme: it was his notes app. On the screen it said “I think you are beautiful”. I instantly blushed and tried to hide my face. “Me?.....” I looked at him, also blushing red and he nodded. I told him thank you. It was the first time any boy had told me I was beautiful. In my own eyes, I was not. I had a big tooth gap because my parents couldn’t afford braces, and I wore glasses. I don’t know what he saw, but I appreciated the flattering compliment.
We entered high school where once again, your life shifts. You are faced with new teachers, new course materials, new teammates, and new challenges. We remained close friends through this time, by taking enough classes together and being involved with the same friends. It was nearing the fall homecoming season and I was nervous about getting a date. I saw many older boys asking girls to be their dates and I wondered if I would even have one my freshman year. Leave it up to my best friend Anna to set me up.
I clearly remember it was a Sunday night and I was watching football. My mom tells me she got a text from Dakota’s mom that there was a book she needed to grab from their house. She told me I needed to go with her. Without any context, I was annoyed she was making ME drive her there since I did not want to leave home. They lived about 5 minutes away so I figured the faster we leave the quicker I can get back home. Mom told me I should brush my hair.
“Why?”
“Well because you should look a little presentable.”
“It’s fine right, we’re just grabbing a book really quick, right?”
“Yes but you don’t want to leave the house looking like you do.”
I huffed and opened our sliding glass door going outside to the car.
“You should at least put some shoes on!”
“I’m FINE, Can we just go and get this over with”
I angrily and annoyed drove/ sped down the paved road to their house, all the while questioning my mother why she really needed me to go with her.
“I don’t know, there might be something there for you.”
I had no idea what that meant. We drove to the shop on their property that this supposed book was. I stepped out of the car, barefoot on the gravel and walked into the shop. There I see Dakota, holding a sign. I frantically looked around to figure out what was going on. I see Anna crouched in a corner covering her smiling mouth. I looked at his sign and read the homecoming proposal which used lyrics and titles from Beatles songs, my favorite band.
“Oh, Dakota! Of course yes!”
I gave him an awkward hug and turned around to realize that my mother didn’t need a book at all.
Dakota was sweet. In an innocent way. He had casually asked before if we could date, but being the reserved and shy individual I was, I had always declined. After the dance, we drifted, not for any particular reason. I heard he had started dating a different girl. She was older by two years. Was I hurt? Not particularly. Was I jealous? Maybe a little more so. They went to prom together and she was definitely way prettier than me. It happens, I thought, we aren’t meant to be. A romantic relationship would definitely change our entire chemistry.
Summer came and we were out working together on his family’s farm. We spent hours in the fields, talking, singing, and sweating. Just good friends again. It was normal and felt right. We spent a week together in late July on a church trip. We worked on a homeless shelter with our youth group and had a fun yet powerful time together. My mom, dad, and brother were on this trip as well, along with many of our church friends. After the week was done on Saturday, we drove back to our town. I remember waving goodbye to his family in their Suburban as they left the church parking lot. I didn’t realize how significant that goodbye would be.
A few days went by and we had casual texting conversations about work and school starting in the next few weeks. He texted me Tuesday night that his dad really needed some help the next morning bright and early. I wanted to sleep in. He texted “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get it covered.” A decision I’d soon regret.
Wednesday morning, I go to the church with my mom to do a couple of things with her. I can’t even recall what it was. We were getting into our car when we heard loud sirens throughout our small town. Mom and I looked at each other. Sirens are never a good sign. We get in the car, curious, but praying whoever needs the ambulance is okay. My mom gets a phone call. It’s one of our family friends. She says Dakota and his older brother have been in a bad car accident. That heavy feeling that makes your heart sink to your stomach instantly hit me. “They’re okay, they’re okay, they’re okay.” I kept telling myself. The ambulance was going fast, and Dakota is strong. He’s practically invincible. My mother’s friend tells us that we should stop by Dakota’s house to grab the boys clean clothes and bring them to the emergency room. We drive in silence, except for maybe a short prayer that the boys are okay. We get to the house and my mom quickly runs up the stairs to the boys’ bedroom. I stay downstairs. I observe the dining room. Dirty laundry in the baskets. Dirty dishes on the counter. Dakota’s name on a marker board along with a list of chores to do. We speed to the emergency room in the nearby town. On the way we received a text from Dakota’s older brother, John. He said he was doing okay but he wasn’t sure about Dakota. We should be keeping their family in our prayers. The panic was rising in my throat. I had been nervous about things before. This was different. It was like a nauseating churn that started in my stomach. Like my soul was shaking out of my physical body. We got to the hospital, parked and my mom said I should stay in the car. Probably wanting to protect me from any scarring sights within the ER. I wanted to go in. Could I see him? She insisted that I stay in the car. I stayed. Frozen at first. Then rocking back and forth. My palms were shaking and itchy in the center.
“This can’t be happening. Not Dakota. He’s like my best friend. Kids don’t die. He’s too young. Too smart. He has an incredibly successful life ahead of him.”
I was eyeing the automatic door for any sign of someone that I recognized. The ten minutes I waited felt like an hour. Ten minutes of restless uncertainty. Then I see my mom. She had one of the hardest faces that I had ever seen her make. She opened the driver’s side door and I immediately asked “What’s going on. Is he ok?!”
She looks at me dead in the eyes, shaking her head, “He didn’t make it, Jasmine”
A million emotions and questions flood my brain. I started blubbering and sobbing while hitting the dashboard. “No, no, no. Why!? Why him?” My mom breaks down with me, not able to get out a single word. The family friend who delivered the phone call joins us in the car. She says Dakota’s in a better place now. I’m in a state of shock and disbelief. Hot tears will not stop streaming down my cheeks. We were silent on the way back home. I ran upstairs to my room and shut the door. I cried into a pillow for the rest of the afternoon. I skipped dinner. There was a candlelight vigil that evening at a church. I barely had the strength to go, but my mom said it would be good for me. I brought my water bottle. I ate nothing and only drank water to replenish my tears the next two days. Saturday morning, I went to a different church with my family to see Dakota’s family. The church’s youth were making survivor bracelets out of parachute cord. Dakota had made them during his depressive episodes during his 9th grade year, when we somewhat drifted. Dakota and I took Spanish class together our freshman year. One day he asked me what my favorite color was. I told him blue. The next day he gave me a blue bracelet he had made. He said he accidentally made one too small. I was instantly brought back to that moment while standing in the church with dozens of people learning how to braid the cord. When I got home, I tore apart my vanity in search for the bracelet he had made for me. I put it on my right hand. I wore the bracelet everyday for an entire year. I had a Dakota original.
Dakota’s brother, John, who was entering his senior year, invited many of us friends to go out to the place where the accident happened. It was a blind intersection that I had previously been weary of earlier that summer. The corn was high and there were no road signs for a yield or stop. John explained how they had just got in the truck after working the field about a half mile south and were going to take their lunch break. He said they had just started going down the road, picking up speed, when he heard a small voice tell him to put his seatbelt on. John put his seatbelt on, but Dakota didn’t. John said he felt as if there was something around the corner, but ultimately did not slow down near the intersection. A driver, going 50 miles per hour, t-boned them in the intersection. According to John, the truck rolled and Dakota was thrown through the windshield. John found his phone and quickly called 911. He found Dakota and blood was coming from his mouth. He had a large wound on his forehead where he had smashed the dashboard. John pulled him into the field of soybeans, opposite the corn, and tried performing CPR. Dakota was mumbling and sputtering blood before his breathing stopped. The paramedics pronounced him dead at the scene. They said he was internally decapitated.
The wake for Dakota was on Sunday night. I had a tough time finding the strength to go. We waited in line behind dozens of people for close to an hour. When I finally got up to him, my heart sank again. There he was. His skin was pale. His hair was not right. His mother, who was right by, said it was okay to touch him. I reached for his hair to move it how he usually wore it. As I parted it, I saw the large scar covered by gobs of makeup that the hair was covering on his forehead. I put it back.
His funeral was the next day. Monday. At 1:18PM, his birthday date. I felt sick the whole morning. My whole family got in the car and my mom was talking to my younger siblings. I was silent. I was going to one of my best friends’ funerals. The church where the funeral was held was absolutely packed. Parked cars took up the surrounding blocks. The church had multiple floors and rooms with casted video of the celebration of life. I was considered close enough to sit in the sanctuary in the front half of the pews. I sat with my gifted teacher and other friends from the gifted program. What a terrible way to end your summer. Saying hello to people you haven’t seen in a few months at a funeral. I remember the funeral. There were songs and the service was led in large by Dakota’s own mother. To this day I have no idea how she had the strength to do that. I remember a few of the songs that were sung, but I’ll never forget the sound of the casket closing. The last goodbye. The final SLAM. His face would never again have sunlight shown upon it. Never again would a person touch him, hold him, hug him.
My family tried to get out to the burial but the crowd was just too insanely large to get around. I had the final say that we could go home. I’d come back another time.
The next day, I went to the scene of the accident. It was an intersection 5 miles east of my house. Someone had put up a make-shift cross at the intersection. I brought a big University of Kansas patch from one of our gifted trips to place at the cross. He loved basketball, and especially the Jayhawks. On the back of the patch I had written “I love you”. That night, there was a big storm. I sat up straight in bed and started crying as the wind whistled by my windows. The patch.
When I woke up, I found a reason to leave home and went back out to the intersection. I ran up to the cross and found my patch wrapped tightly around the base with some old barbed wire. I burst into tears of relief. I have no idea who saved my patch.
The next two weeks were spent preparing for school and fall practice. I had decided to do tennis that fall instead of volleyball. On the first day of school, I rode the bus into the town with my school. We drove past the intersection and I burst into tears. I cried four more times that day. Each time in the class he should have been in with me. I was distraught. I have no other way to describe how absolutely depressed I was walking the halls. Teachers were not the same. There was an absence in our sophomore class. An absence on our football team. In our audition choir. In our youth group. And in me. I tried my best to get through it. I started journaling a little bit after the accident to help organize my thoughts. To remember all the little details I could about him. To write them down so they didn’t disappear.
My sophomore year was brutal. I was playing tennis in the fall with a small team of girls who helped to create a safe and calm environment for me. I spent all of my hours in the team vehicle listening to two Lifehouse albums on repeat. I’d look out the window and reflect. What was life? What was my purpose? Why did this happen?
I didn’t have an answer. I bottled it up. It seemed that a lot of my class who weren’t very close with Dakota had a lot easier time going back to their normal lives. I was missing a friend. There was a contact in my phone from whom I’d never received another text. I had unfinished business. We had talked all summer about how our math class and Spanish II classes would be so fun this year. The bracelet I wore everyday was getting a stark tan line.
The semester rolled on. One of my other close friends moved to Colorado. And my last best friend, Anna, was in her own self-discovery phase. She wasn’t as close to Dakota and I was more or less a depressed teen at that time. I cried at school. In the bathrooms. In the locker room or a small music practice room. Am I just that sensitive? Why is no one else dealing with this grief like I am? I tried to distract myself with various activities. It worked for the most part. In the spring, I went out for softball. I loved softball. I had been playing it for years. I even had helped “assistant coach” a little girls rec league with Dakota and his family a few summers beforehand. Softball was hard but I needed the challenge. I worked hard at the sport and found myself on the varsity team after multiple players were out for the season due to injury or illness. In the last regular season game, on May 9th on our home field, I broke my leg. I had a high impact with the catcher while trying to steal home. The ump called me safe and we won the game by a run rule as I crumpled to the ground. I remember thinking I could stand up, but the weirdest tingling started down my leg around my knee. My coach carried me off the field like a baby. I pulled my helmet off and one tear slid down my cheek. They put me on a stretcher while the athletic trainer checked my knee.
“Yep, you fractured a bone. We should get you in to the ER for an X-ray”
“Fracture? Like my bone broke?”
“Yes that’s what a fracture is”
I started sobbing. Not from the pain. From the overwhelming feeling of becoming an invalid for an uncertain amount of time. I slid in the back of my mom’s vehicle as we drove down to the county ER. We got there, I was still in uniform. Just hysterical. I had no idea what was going on as I had never had an injury like this before. The ER lady took X-rays of my right leg. The images came back and showed a tibial plateau fracture. I wouldn’t be walking for a while. They helped cut me out of my softball pants and sent me home with lots of pain killers. The next few days I spent vomiting from the strong norco drug. I had a surgery a few days later where they placed hardware in my knee and put me in a straight-leg brace. I was miserable. It was hot and scratchy and I had my finals coming up. I went back to school the next Wednesday or Thursday to collect some class work to do at home. As I lived on the downstairs couch for close to three weeks I found myself asking again “Why did this happen?” I finished the school year by doing my final projects and giving my German foreign exchange student friend a final hug. I remember thinking “This is a nicer way to say goodbye to someone forever”.
I couldn’t walk for most of the summer and I started painful physical therapy. I was frequenting 3 times a week for a long while to build back my strength and relearn to walk. As soon as I was weight-bearing, I started working outside again. Doing what I could with one crutch. Dakota’s dad hired me to help manage the field workers and I could do some wood stacking decently enough. On the 1 year anniversary of Dakota’s death, I went to the gravesite for a small ceremony. It was the first time I had been there. The intersection where he died was my frequent mourning spot, almost daily on my drive to and from school. The gravestone was large and obviously very expensive. It has a beautiful picture of him and the quote “You got this”, that he used often as a self-reassuring phrase. At some point after the 1-year, I stopped wearing the bracelet he made me. Was it time to let go? How long does one mourn?
The rest of my high school journey was tainted with the memories of him and the phantom memories of where I imagined him being. At my graduation, we had an honorary memorial and scholarship dedicated to him and his character. Then I went to college. I was already dating who would become my husband a number of years later.
Years have passed. There is no happy ending. I'm still here. Aging. Growing older while I can still see the face of my 15 year old friend. He isn’t growing. He’s in the ground. Resting. It feels like a lifetime until I can see him again. I’ve had dreams of him. Unprompted visions of him were prevalent for about 2 years after he passed. You would think this story would get easier after the number of times I’ve played in my head over all of these years. But it hasn’t. I’m in the acceptance stage of grief. I’ve lived life, gotten married, laughed again, and see a bright future for myself. Though I do often think, Where would Dakota be now? Would we have become closer friends? Would he be married? He would have made a good father.
Again, I have no answers to these questions that I suppose may eternally sit with me. I do have some answers though. I’ve learned how to not take people for granted. I’ve learned how to recognize depressive symptoms and how to be a listening ear for someone who feels hopeless. I’ve learned how to find purpose in helping people. I’ve learned patience. Sometimes patience is agonizing, which means the reward is definitely worth the wait.

So it all started before he worked at taco bell. I messed up his order. When he came in the first time ordering a 12 taco party pack. And it ended up being where the 600 lb cook in the back and ended up eating all the tacos. Because there were 12 tacos that were basically unaccounted for. Because I put in the wrong order. I believe or it was the wrong type of taco or something along those lines so he ended up eating them basically. He came in with his cousin. But it appeared like he came in with his husband. And kids. They have lots of kids. Because he has kids and his cousin has kids. So they look like two husbands with lots of kids. My mother had to clock herself out and break out. Because she doesn't serve people who are gay and married with children. She will have a whole fit. Tell them that they're living a whole fantasy and that they're not real and all this nonsense. So it is best for her to just take a seat. Which is why I took their order. And that's their order of accidentally.
After that. I specifically saw him at the pizza parlor. Where he was working at the primm casino. And he was very knowledgeable about the pizzas. Very helpful. And so forth very accommodating pretty much a very good service individual.
A few days later. I saw that he had tried to turn in his application at my job. This was a day when we had two of the co-workers specifically very high out of their minds. At least the two co-workers in charge that day. Because on Fridays there were only two people in charge. A shift lead and a guy who kind of like in waiting. during the that Christmas season DeJean was always high off of his rockers. everyday he came in his eyes were shut and he was slurring his words. and Sam was a heroin addict. so I think him being high everyday like he was. was supposedly on his best behavior. because it was marijuana supposedly. instead of heroin or crack. and these people both ended up cursing out the customers screaming at them to leave the store. and cursing out other co-workers as well. so it was no use in asking them for help basically. yeah that day they were both high out of their minds. And very busy. So I felt like the application was not going to go anywhere anyway. Besides probably in the trash. I tried to put it in the office where Nik could see it. But I don't even know if he ended up being able to see his application.
Anyway what ended up happening was in this city we all lived in the same apartment complex. So I saw him I think two more times and then he came into the store two more times. And one of the times I saw him in person at the apartment complex. I specifically show them when the general manager would be available. And literally set up a time for him. After I had talked to the general manager and told him that I was getting this guy Tyler to him for him to interview.
The reason I tried for him. Was specifically because the prim casino was closing. Meaning that the employees probably didn't have any choice there. And considering he had all those kids so I believed and considering that at that place that apartment complex you have to have a job. In order to stay there. It seemed like it was important for him to get the job. That was my reason. On top of the fact that at the pizza parlor he was a good worker. It ain't nothing to do with me at all liking them in that way. I never liked him. It was just specifically that I felt like well he got kids he's in this apartment complex. That will be evicted in 72 hours if he doesn't have a job pretty soon. and he was a good worker from what I could tell.
After the interview though my general manager Nik try to imply that I must like him or something. Because why that did I try to push for him to get hired. When it was simply because he was a hard worker from what I could tell and he had kids. From what I could tell. And he was at a job that was going to end soon. Meaning at in the private apartments you have to have a job. They will evict you in like 72 hours. Who wants to see kids being evicted in 72 hours for not having a job. Like realistically to me I didn't want to see that. Considering they were my next door neighbors anyway.
Anyway I ended up quitting. I quit the job. Because it was in the middle of my whole situation where I spent 18 days. Working Day today. And people like my general manager were yelling at me and telling me how terrible I was for missing an hour of work. I ended up putting a quit letter in. And that went sour. Because I put it in speaking pretty crass. Because I was like hey it's over. I can just talk like a regular person. So I started talking about stuff. But I wasn't specifically cursing anyone out. I was specifically like saying what I did for a living outside of this job. Which is in the phone sex industry basically. And saying something about my give a damn is busted. Things of that nature. Which ended up where the message got taken out. And said it was an offensive message. So everybody thought I was cursing them out. Which was the side issue. I remember being a little sad about quitting because I wanted to work with him and I thought he would be fun to work with. And also being like oh well you know I'm quitting but I got you a good one. Kind of thing.
Well I got rehired. A couple months later. During the summer. And I've worked there since. For a year. Never been times where the coworker I tried to get hired Tyler acts like Oddish. He says he's autistic so maybe that's it? For example I was just trying to talk about my ex who was a prostitute. And he got all uncomfortable. But the problem with that situation was I specifically had just talked to Angela and Victor about the same thing. Telling them about how massage therapists are really prostitutes. And how my ex was really a prostitute all that time and I had no clue about it. And how my roommate just let me in on knowing that massage therapist basically means a prostitute.
And like another time I was specifically just saying I didn't like anyone I was working with at the time. And then they got all fussy. When I tripped accidentally said that I did but I wasn't meaning him or angelee I was meaning Lucas who I wasn't working with. After that he started acting oddly too.
For example I had to run late yesterday so I had to take an Uber. On the right there. I took a photo and I was surprised because one of my eyes turned yellow. And I was like what the heck. My eyes are black. So how are my eyes yellow in the photo. Because of the lighting. Flash right on my eye. With the sun flashing in the way it did. It was like a direct lighting. But it was like a strip of light that basically hit my eye. So then that let me to download a color detector and a color picker. Just to determine the color I was looking at. So then what colors came up were fawn tan and camel. I look up these colors. And it says yellow. And then I look up fawn colored eyes. And it literally says hazel. So then I'm confused. Ask you why I have hazel eyes in the sun. In direct strip lighting but I got black eyes every other time. And every other normal lighting. So when I get to work. I basically ask my coworkers. Because all my coworkers have black eyes too. If they also get yellow eyes when they look at the sun. And pretty much it seemed like nobody really agreed with that. And people seem like they're uncomfortable and angry because I asked that question.
He specifically acted like I was somehow doing something or making him uncomfortable especially when I showed him the photo. Very odd because I wasn't trying to say they were pretty. Or anything along those lines. This was the day I didn't straighten my har. I let my hair just stay like stick stuck up weird. Because I didn't have enough time to get ready for work. The photo was taken completely makeupless I mean I washed my face. And put some sunscreen on. That's all I did. And I had hair all over my uniform. This wasn't a flattering photo.and I wasn't trying to imply anything about my eyes. Especially since normally they're black. So I wasn't trying to say they were pretty either. It was just me looking at my picture and being like is this actually brown or is it Amber or Hazel or what the heck is it? That was my question. I only have my pair of eyes. I don't have anyone else's to see if the lighting is different on other Brown eyes. Am I like the one with yellow tint in my eyes. When bright sunlight hits it. Is that a sign of not being actually brown-eyed. Or what? Like that was my question. But he seemed to take it completely differently. I ended up talking to Justin about it. Who explained to me that he had brown eyes all his life and then he found out that he had green eyes when he looked into the sunlight. And that it was a normal occurrence for people with very dark eye color of different colors than brown. Basically. He did not seem like that was a weird question or that was wrong for me to bring this up. To him. So I don't get why the other guy seem to react a little negatively to me but he's done that before with other conversations on other things which is just weird to me.
Personally for me. When it comes to men I like I would never ask that question as I've said before I tried telling Lucas to make me a bacon grilled cheese burrito got stuck in mid sentence and had to go on the intercom to ask Sidney to tell him. I don't talk to people I'm attracted to about simple things I actually need. I stuttered and if I'm friendly I'm whining mostly. No way I'd be talking about my eye color to anyone I was attracted to. I don't even like to look people in the eyes. If I am attracted to them. So I would not be talking about my eyes at all. Because a part of me feels like if they look in my eyes. They'll realize I like/want them so yeah the last thing I'd be talking about is my eyes.
Even thinking back to a past coworker sam who I mildly was odd and about a coworker misty who didn't like to work her job. Barely came into work. And all I ever saw of her was on the crew app. And she had some blue eye contacts in. So then the first time I finally saw her. She didn't have her eye contacts in and I was confused how she was the same person because she didn't have blue eyes anymore. This was in front of a guy I was sorta fond of ever so VERY mildly. And Sam kept trying to tell me to look at his eyes and how they were green or whatever and I wouldn't look/completely ignored him. So even if I have to talk about someone's eye color I still won't reference or look or talk at a person's eye color or talk about it with a person I'm even mildly attracted to. Even if the topic was someone else's eye color I won't talk about it with someone I'm attracted to even if it's mildly.
What is weird he acts uncomfortable about conversations that I've had with other people. Who don't take it that way. Which is why it leads me to think maybe he still thinks that I like him in some way because of how he got here in the first place? I've tried to mention this like a couple times. To different coworkers. That I didn't. Like him. Specifically to just put that out there.
Most of my coworkers know that I only like men who are white. Specifically. And he's not white. Also a lot of other things but I'm not going to pick apart a person.
Anyway if he does think this how do I correct it? Because he acts uncomfortable with many conversations I have just fine with other people.

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.
Rainfall obscures all that lurks in the distance. With limited visibility, Norman faces his biggest enemy yet.
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
‘When it rains, it pours.’
Norman hoped that phrase wouldn’t apply to more than just the weather in his case. With the hoodie drawn over his head, he felt the sky’s heavy bombardment through his waterproof outfit. The nightsight did its best to pierce the precipitation, but distant objects remained obscured behind curtains of rainfall.
Norman stopped before a massive chasm in the streets, cutting across his path. He beamed the smitelight into its depths. There were creatures moving around down there. He couldn’t identify them, but he saw their beady eyes staring back at him. They didn’t look too big, and made no move against him, but that didn’t mean he’d take his chances with them either. The cam drone told him the chasm extended pretty far. Maybe some kind of battle had occurred here, collapsing underground infrastructure.
He turned and set off on a different path.

_CHAT

• ARN74: detour?
• NORMAN: Yeah. It’ll set me back one and a half hours.
• INQU!SIT_R: you’re in the chat? how??
• NORMAN: I set the nightsight to read neuromuscular signals sent to the jaw when I talk in my head. It’s transcribing them into the chat. Apparently, this kind of tech exists in the outside world too.
• ARN74: we get it. you’re clever. now send me your pin so I can come for you

Norman raised an eyebrow. Ever since their talk, ARN74 was a lot less belligerent. She (he was pretty sure she was a girl) seemed somewhat invested in his well-being now. Nonetheless, knowing her brief track record? Her choice of words was questionable.

_CHAT

• NORMAN: I genuinely can’t tell if that’s a threat or something else.
• ARN74: something else
• NORMAN: Be more specific, please.
• ARN74: i’m giving you a lift home
• NORMAN: You have a car?
• ARN74: don’t need one
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: But you need his pin, apparently. I thought you said you can ‘taste’ radio waves to find someone.
• ARN74: that’s hard and it takes time. don’t draw attention to yourself Lemmy
• ATTACK-OTAKU: Are you a girl?
• ARN74: what’s that got to do with anything?
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Based on the way she talked to Norman about Amy, it’s highly likely that she’s a girl.
• ARN74: Lemmy you are pushing your luck
• ATTACK-OTAKU: [PIN FOR ARN74]
• ARN74: WHAT!? WHY!?!
• ATTACK-OTAKU: (Pushes up glasses) ‘cause you seem like a tsundere monster girl who just needs someone to give her a chance.
• ARN74: i’m going to pretend I didn’t read that
• MUNSTER-VERSER: are you cute?
• ARN74: 😒 why would I answer that?
• MUNSTER-VERSER: 😘
• ARN74: 😨 WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!?
• INQU!SIT_R: speaking of which, what does Amy look like?
• NORMAN: Haven’t you seen the news?
• INQU!SIT_R: yes, but they never get a good shot. it’s like those blurry UFO pics they always show us. her voice comes out weird too.
• NORMAN: Good. That’s just the way she likes it 😊.
• RAIDER-COMMANDER: She can corrupt footage of herself?
• NORMAN: Yes. I’m not fully sure how, though. She seems to passively sabotage light and sound waves when she doesn’t want to be recorded properly. It affects tech more than human senses for some reason. Even so, it can be hard or impossible to spot her at a distance with your own eyes when she doesn’t want you to.
• RAIDER-COMMANDER: Strange. Why would her self-censorship abilities be tailored to human tech?
• NORMAN: Could be a coincidence.
• RAIDER-COMMANDER: Do you really think that?
• NORMAN: Nope.
• ARN74: alright Norman. time to send me that pin. if the monsters don’t get you, the exposure might. you obviously won’t ask your actual girlfriend for help, so you’ll have to settle for me
• NORMAN: Nah, I’m good thanks.
• ARN74: WHY!?
• NORMAN: Stranger danger.
• ARN74: YOU’D RATHER FACE GOD KNOWS HOW MANY NYCTALS BECAUSE STRANGER DANGER?!?
• NORMAN: Yesh maybe :3?
• ARN74: YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLE
• NORMAN: I dunno … it’s not like you spent half the night wishing for me to die. I have every reason to trust you.
• ARN74: fair point

Norman cut through an alley. Above him was a crisscross of clothes lines, except clothes lines weren’t usually this thick or … lumpy. They didn’t fall towards you like a net either.
He accelerated. Like a sword master, he slashed the smitelight beam across them. They screamed and withdrew long enough for him to make it through the alley. Then they descended yet again. He took a moment to examine them. Resembling intestines laced with goop, he assumed these cords worked as some kind of capture mechanism. They reinforced themselves before his eyes with a spiderweb of smaller strings that stretched membranes between them: layers upon layers of slimy walls.
Norman turned up his lip and continued along the street, glancing about. The cords were there, in every alley, every side road, spinning more walls like webs of mucus. There was no easy way to go but forward or backwards. Perhaps they were connected, somehow, sending out a silent signal to reinforce themselves due to his attack. Suspicion festered in his mind.

_CHAT

• BAJANETTE11: HEAT EATER!!!
• BAJANETTE11: HEAT EATER!!!

At the edge of the street, Norman spotted that blue glow with his nightsight on a mild infrared setting. He raised the smitelight, waiting for the perfect moment. The heat eater ignored him and shot right by at a frantic pace. He still hadn’t gotten a good look at it. Setting the drone to monitor his blindside, he trained his eyes at the direction from which it came.
*VVVVVVVVVRMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ...\*
A growing tremor. The most apt comparison might have been the feeling of a train wheeling by. However, a train was way too small.

_CHAT

• JARON-DA-MON: is the camera shaking?

Norman strained his nightsight to pierce the distance. It captured the outline of a building that wasn’t there before.
He turned tail and ran.
It felt as though he was getting nowhere fast. That tremour grew closer at almost the same rate, unaffected by his speed.
.
“̷̧̛̟̽͘G̶̡̱̠̱̲͔̦̉̊̓̿̊̀͛̉͘͝Ǧ̴̡̳̮̠̞͙͓̊͌̓̓̃̽͘̚G̶̤̤̞͉͎̟̏́͛̿͌̏̅͠͝Ǵ̴̢̨̞͔͕̲̲̼̌̽̍M̵̢̛͎̱̯̞͔͝ͅM̵̩̪̤̹̯͖̠̄̎̈́̚͘M̴̘̉̓̅̽̓M̵̫͕̺͍̫̾́͗͗̂̋͊̍͝͝M̶͓̜͍͈̦̻̝̟̻̯̓̈́̅̃̋̃̉͂̆͘M̵̖͓̠̝̹̮̜̓̓̓́̎͊̑̕M̵͙͇̜̻͈̜̀́̓́!̸̢͉̩̠̼́̆́͌͝”̷̥̻̗̤̅͗̽̃̒͂̓̅͝ͅ
.
The hunting cry. It wasn’t heard as much as it was felt, quaking through his chest like the bass of a subwoofer. Infrasonic roars like this were how tigers stunned their prey. In this case, it was much louder. Norman’s muscles attempted to seize up. He whipped them back into shape with a hard nope. There wasn’t time for this. Judging from the tremours’ escalation, it had seen him and begun to accelerate.
The building’s silhouette was clearer and nearer. Looking closely enough, one could see the massive eyes socketed in its windows. Most of them were locked upon Norman. From the windows that seemed empty? Tentacles over a metre thick unfurled in preparation to snatch their prey.

_CHAT

• AMBIVALENT_TRENT: 😳
• INQU!SIT_R: 😦
• SMOL_STUPSE: 😬
• BAJANETTE11: 😨
• ARN74: 😑
• UNREPENTANT_MEMER: [link]
• RAIDER-COMMANDER: ‘Peeping building’: larger cousin of the taxiderm. A mollusk-analogous organism that uses buildings as an outer shell and disguise. They often move on muscular, sliding ‘feet’, like snails, but they’re deceptively fast.
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Anyone still wanna come here?
• LIKKLE-BOY: 😳 smh
• BAJANETTE11: Norman, try an sen de pin!!!
• ARN74: too late. he’s on his own
• BAJANETTE11: WHY?!?
• ARN74: what do you mean ‘why’? i’ve never fought one of those before. i don’t know what they can do and i ain’t gonna risk it today

Norman passed up two alleys until he reached the one with the least amount of blockage, according to the bird’s eye view of his drone. He focused his beam like a laser and began slicing into the organic barrier, tearing membranes and searing lumps or anything else that looked vital to its functioning. He almost had a clear path.
.
“̴̡̛͇̥͉́̿͗G̵̪͚̪͍̽̽͆͌̊̓̅̒͛͜͝Ǵ̷̪̠̦͚͊̾̓̆͛̿̚͜Ǵ̷͎͎̖͙̳̘̄͠͠G̷̛̦̲͎̘̟͖̦͕̎̀̈́̉̕M̴̜͉̓͗̽͊M̷̥̤̼̒̒̈M̷̢̫̗̠͈͚̝͙̄M̴̡͔̖̫͒M̴̛̭̯̽͐͛̍̑̓͆̌M̴̢̦͕̟̣͈̯̀̀̚͘̕M̷͎͉̟̪̎́̒̈́͘͜͠!̴̡͙͚͙̭̯̩̦̈́͌͐̈͒̓͝”̶̡̨̖̹̝̭̻̀́͌̊͑͗̊͜
.
Norman almost collapsed. Its cry thundered through him. This thing was almost on top of him, tearing street water into the air like a speedboat ripping through the waves.
“Okay, that does it,” Norman growled through gritted teeth. “Not on my streets.”
Its tentacles drew back to strike. Norman struck first. His concentrated beam crisscrossed from eye to eye as he blinded it with rapid fire slashes of the smitelight. The tentacles forgot their attack, spasming with an anguished squeal. It was still coming.
Norman removed four flash grenades, tied them together, armed them almost all at once and hurled them to the base of the oncoming building. He angled his smitelight towards it, counting down to the moment when the grenades went off.
\fweeeeeeeeeee*eeeeeeeeeeeee ...\*
“Burn,” Norman snarled.
*FFFOOOOOOOMM!\*
The smitelight’s blast went off in tandem with the flash grenades. The building bayed a death cry and fell forward like a kaiju-sized mahogany. Norman ignored it, already charging for another blast.
\fweeeeeeeeeee*eeeeeeeeeeeee ...\*
*FFFOOOOOOOMM!\*
The nyctal webs in the alleyway shriveled and died instantly.
He surged into the alley. Crispy cords crushed beneath his shoes like fried chicken. Nearing the end of the passage, he felt the tremendous waft of air racing to get out of the building’s way before it hit the ground. Then the impact came. Flesh, metal and concrete collided with road in a sound indescribably ghastly. The shockwave struck like a tsunami, clipping him as he rounded the corner. He tumbled into a parkour roll and was back up in an instant. Behind him, a river of dust mingled with debris poured from the alley.

_CHAT

• RAIDER-COMMANDER: We’ve underestimated Norman.
• ARN74: that goes without saying

Norman scanned the new street on which he found himself. Subtle signs of panic were in his movements.

_CHAT

• INQU!SIT_R: is he looking for something?
• RAIDER-COMMANDER: All the exits are blocked by debris. It’s not a coincidence. It’s a hunting net.

Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
.
.

“̷̵̵̷̶̷̶̶̸̶̶̸̴̡̛̮͉̹̪̼̙̤̲̤͔̗̮̥̣̜͓̟̞̃̔̈́̑̈̍͌̂̂̐̋͛̉̓G̵̶̸̷̴̸̵̵̴̶̸̷̸̴̶̨̢̧̞͈̠̜̳̪͎̬̜̱̫͚̝̩̑̒͐́͆̃̿̉̆̉̃̓̀̎̐͂̎̒̕̕͘͝͝Ǵ̷̷̷̴̸̸̷̷̷̷̵̨̢̞̥͓̰͖͙̰̝͖̩̺͍͎͉͌̽̂́͐̓̀͒̐͗́M̴̷̶̵̴̷̵̶̵̴̷̷̢̡̧̢̛̫̲͕͇̗̯͚̥͙͓͓̀̒͑͒̂̊̅̐͛̂̄͌̈̚͝M̴̷̶̵̴̷̷̶̷̬̼̭̗͍̺̳̩̱͍̂̄̾͂̔̽̇̀͝͝͝͠M̶̯̙̥͕̞̰̗̗͐̔!̸̞̞̬̼̖̩̈́̇͊͐̾͑͋̉!̷̧͈̘̬̆͑͝!̶̤̜̔̓̆̅̔͆͘͝”̸̨̧̼̭̫̒͜

.
.
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2.8. Saṅkhāra:

Saṅkhāra (Theravada glossary):
Formation, compound, fashioning, fabrication - the forces and factors that fashion things (physical or mental), the process of fashioning, and the fashioned things that result. Sankhara can refer to anything formed or fashioned by conditions, or, more specifically, (as one of the five khandhas) thought formations within the mind.

• Saṅkhāra: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch and mental activities
• Saṅkhāra is construct. Construct is activity.
• Sight is a construct. Sight occurs as an activity composed of looking, seeing, light/image incoming, brain and mind functioning, etc.
• Sound is a construct. Sound occurs as an activity composed of listening, hearing, sound waves incoming, brain and mind functioning, etc.
• Smell...
• Taste...
• Touch...
• Thought is a construct. Thought occurs as an acivity composed of recalling memory, composing ideas, brain and mind functioning, etc.

Paramattha & Saṅkhāra

Existence is made of paramattha (reality, real things) and saṅkhāra (activity).
Four Paramatthas are Citta, cetasika, rūpa, Nibbāna.
Saṅkhāra is either natural or intentional.

The Four Noble Truths

The Catusacca (the Four Truths or Facts) are Ariya-Sacca (the Noble Truth, the Ultimate Truth). These four truths are the true nature (sbhāva) of paramattha and saṅkhāra.
The Catusacca Daḷhī Kamma Kathā composed by the Elder Revata (2491 Sāsanā Era) is a must-read:

The Buddha had to acquire the ten perfection (pāramis) over four asankheyyas and a hundred thousand kappas; a paccekabuddha, over two asankheyyas and a hundred thousand kappas; a Chief Disciple or Mahāsāvaka, over one asankheyyas and a hundred thousand kappas. To what end? To attain to the Four Noble Truths. Why? Because it is only knowledge of the Four Noble Truths that leads to the realization of Nibbana, which makes one secure against the hazards of repeated (birth), ageing, disease and death and the natural tendency of all worldlings to fall into the four miserable states (apāya). One should therefore follow the example of those Noble Ones who have entered Nibbana and strive for the knowledge of the Truth.

Two truths:

1. The paramattha-sacca (the ultimate truth, or reality that really exists in nature);
2. The samuti-sacca (the conventional truth, or the conventions and beliefs that really exist among us);

Sacca : truth; Truth also means a statement or speech is truthful or of a noble person.

TATHĀGATĀ
the Buddha uses to address himself. He is “thus come” (tathā āgata) in the sense that he is neither an emissary of any divine being (God, etc) nor prophets, but arises as the most highly evolved being amongst us as the natural process of spiritual evolution and awakening. He is “thus gone” (tathā gata) in the sense that, just like the truth he proclaims, he dies, thus authenticating the reality that he and we commonly are. (Sacca) Tathāgatā Sutta (Piya Tan)

Nāma and Rūpa

There are five aggregates of clinging.

• Nāma is the collective term for saṅkhata dhamma: citta (viññāṇa) and cetāsika (vedanā, saññā, saṅkhāra). Thus, nāma is the four mental componets (vedanā, saññā, saṅkhāra and viññāṇa). Citta is also known as mano and viññāṇa. Citta (mind) and cetasika (mental factors) rise and fall together.
• Rūpa is the four mahābhūta (solid, liquid, gas and heat) and space. Space is the gaps between the particles (mahābhūta). Thus, rūpa is the corporeal body. Rūpa is often translated as form; i.e. the biological body.
• A being is a nāma-rūpa complex or a metaphysical being.

Saṅkhāra as the three built environments:

• Satta-loka is lifeforms and their systems/activities—Avijja-paccaya sankhara (delusion conditions/supports constructs/activities).
• Okāsa-loka is large objects like plants, rivers, mountains, seas, oceans, rocks, galaxies, stars, planets, moons, etc. and their systems/activities. Okāsa-loka houses lifeforms.
• Saṅkhāra-loka is the particals (mahābhūta) and their systems/activities. Saṅkhāra-loka is of particle physics and chemistry existing inside and outside the biological beings (Satta-loka).
• The Satta-loka is made of the five aggregates. Okāsa-loka and Saṅkhāra-loka are made of matters (rūpa or mahābhūta).
• Everything in the three worlds (Satta-loka, Okāsa-loka, Saṅkhāra-loka) is saṅkhāra or a form of sight, sound, smell, taste, touch or thought.
• See Sabba Sutta (The All are these six senses only, no more.)
• Nibbāna is thus the other shore, relief from the burden of the natural activities (birth, aging, death) and intention (kamma saṅkhāra). Nibbāna is thus relief from the nāma-rūpa complex (the natural and intentional activities).

2.8.1. Three types of saṅkhāra:

• Mano-saṅkhāra (mental construct/formation/activity)
• Vaci-saṅkhāra (verbal...): words, comversation, cry, etc.;
• Kāya-saṅkhāra (bodily...): physical action and reaction (all physical activities, which are not vaci);
• These saṅkhāra can be natural or intentional.
• Kamma saṅkhāra (intentional activities) are led by the mind (viññāṇa and mano-saṅkhāra).

Kamma Saṅkhāra (Intentional Activity)

• Intention is kamma (mano-kamma).
• A mental activity with intention is mano-kamma.
• A verbal activity with intention is vaci-kamma.
• A bodily activity with intention is kaya-kamma.
• Intention forms in the mind, so it is a mano-saṅkhāra (mental construct).
• Intention is based on wholesome and unwholesome cetasika (mental factors)

In Samyutta Nikaya Sutta 12.25 the Buddha said “With ignorance as condition, either by oneself, Ananda, one wills bodily intentions (kāya Saṅkhāra), following which arises internally pleasure and pain; or, because of others one wills bodily intentions, following which arises internally, pleasure and pain.” [CONDITIONED ARISING OF SUFFERING (Ven. Dhammavuddho Mahāthera)]

• 'Bodily intention' (kaya-saṅkhāra): intention to act bodily;
  • Kāya: body, bodily;
  • Intention: mano-saṅkhāra
• Mental pain and pleasure; as intention is inside the mind, pleasure and pain are internal (inside the mind).

One casts three types of saṅkhāra (construct/activity) all day long.

• Kamma is volition, intentional action, which can be subtle or gross.
• The Buddha said, "Kamma is intention."

Saṅkhāra Examples:

Avijjā-paccaya saṅkhāra (ignorance conditions/supports construct/activity):

• Beauty is saṅkhāra (natural and with intent). Beauty exists because it is supported by other saṅkhāra-s, including but not limited to fashion, makecup, good health, young age, exercise, nutrition, perception, culture, cleanliness, and genetic conditions. Being propped up by various suitable supports, beauty exists. When suitable things come together, they create beauty. When these supports are affected, beauty is affected.

2.8.2. Cetasikas (Mental Factors):

Cetasika is a paramattha. It exists as it is.
A being is made of rūpa (solid, liquid, gas and heat), citta (viññāṇa) and cetāsika (vedanā, saññā, saṅkhāra). However, one does not need akusala-cetasika (avijjā). By removing akusala-cetasika (avijjā), one attains kusala-cetasika (vijjā) and the binding (saṅkhāra) is unbinded.

• saṅkhārakkhandha (m.) the aggregate of mental coefficients

Sankharakkhandha (the fifty cetasikas which are not vedana or sanna) is real; it can be experienced. When there are beautiful mental factors (sobhana cetasikas) such as generosity and compassion, or when there are unwholesome mental factors such as anger and stinginess, we can experience sankharakkhandha. All these phenomena arise and fall away: sankharakkhandha is impermanent. [Nina Van Gorkom. Chapter 2 - The five khandas]

• Cetasika are vedanā, saññā and saṅkhāra (feeling, memory/perception, and construct/activity)
• 14 kusala cetasika (wholesome) and 14 akusala cetasikas (unwholesome mental factors) associate with saṅkhāra and Kamma Saṅkhāra.
• Viññāṇa (consciousness) is citta, one of the four paramatthas. Citta and cetasika occur together and stated as Aññamañña paccayo (explained below);

Aññamañña Paccayo (PAṬṬHĀNA)

Aññamañña paccayo: Paccaya RECIPROCATES WITH paccayuppanna
paccayuppanna : (adj.) arisen from a cause.
paccaya : (m.) cause; votive; requisite; means; support.

• Citta and cetasika (saṅkhāra and vedana/ayatana) arise together or mutually supportive. Details can be read in Pa-Auk Sayadaw's Sampayutta Dhammayatana.
  • Ayatana: sense
  • Vedanā: feeling
  • saṅkhāra: construct
  • Avijjā-paccaya saṅkhāra
• No matter how one is well-behaved, these Anusaya Kilesās will not die out. Either kusala or akusala cetasika (wholesome or unwholesome mental factors) will arise when consciousness (citta) comes in contact with a convenience. Our problems are the unwholesome mental factors.

[Ledi Sayadaw] Lokuttara, or supramundane consciousness, is the noble mind (ariya-citta) which has become free from the threefold desire, and has transcended the three planes, kāma, rūpa, and arūpa. It is of two kinds, thus: noble consciousness in the path (of stream-entry, etc.) and noble consciousness in the fruition (of stream-entry, etc.). [Ledi Sayādaw Mahāthera. The Manual of Insight Vipassanā Dīpanī; The Wheel Publication No: 031/032]

• By means of practicing vipassanā, one can separate citta from akusala cetasika. When akusala cetasika are eradicated from the mind, ariya-citta arises.
• Anupàdisesa-Nibbànadhàtu is the final cessation of the five aggregates of clinging (Upādānakkhandha).
• Nibbànadhàtu: Santisukha (the ultimate-peace element); Nibbàna is an element (paramattha).

Akusala Cetasikas (unwholesome mental factors)

Abhidhamma (Ashin Janakabhivamsa)

• Factor 1 - Moha (delusion)
• Factor 2 - Ahirika (moral shamelessness)
• Factor 3 - Anottappa (moral fearlessness)
• Factor 4 - Uddhacca (distraction, restlessness, wavering)
• Factor 5 - Lobha (greed)
• Factor 6 - Ditthi (wrong view)
• Factor 7 - Mana (conceit)
• Factor 8 - Dosa (hatred)

Factor 9 - Issa (envy)
Factor 10 - Macchariya (jealousy, selfishness)
Factor 11 - Kukkucca (remorse)

• Factor 12-13 - Thina and middha (sloth and torpor)
• Factor 14 - Vicikiccha (doubt, scepticism)

Among the akusala cetasikas are the ten kilesā (akusala cetasika) shown with bullet points.

Hetu paccayo

Lobha, dosa, and moha are called akusala hetus and alobha, adosa, and amoha are called kusala hetus. These latter 3 hetus if they arise with abyakata dhamma they are called abyakata hetus. Lobha is also known as tanha, upadana, samudaya and so on. Moha is sometimes called avijja. Alobha is sometimes refered to dana or offering but it is non attachment. Adosa is metta or loving kindness. Amoha is pannindriya cetasika and simply called panna and is sometimes called vijja. Htoo Naing. Patthana Dhamma: Chapter 5 - Hetu paccayo (or root condition). Htoo Naing. Patthana Dhamma (a different book): Hetu paccayo (page 15)

Kilesā occur in three levels:

1/ anusaya-kilesa: low level, latent, like sediments waiting to be stirred up. 2/ pariyuttana-kilesa: medium level arising only in the mind due to causes and conditions. 3/ vitikkakama-kilesa: coarse level, manifesting in unwolesome speech or action, breaking precepts. [Defilements (kilesā) (Thanh Huynh - Honolulu Dhamma Community)]

Anusaya Kilesas (latent tendency):

If you don’t remove or destroy [latent tendency or defilements (anusaya kilesā)] with Path Knowledge, the khandhas and samudaya (i.e., taṇhā) are always sticking together. [Buddhavada (Mogok Sayadaw); also see 4.2. ANUSAYA]

• Cetasikas are embeded in the formation of a being, including the arupa-brahmas.
• When something convenient (sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, or thought) is present to consciousness (Viññāṇa), anusaya kilesā (the latent tendency) grows like seeds.
• At the contact with the convenience, Viññāṇa and the cetasika co-arise simultaneously according to Aññamañña paccayo (Mutuality or Reciprocity Condition)
  • To think, one must be conscious; and to continue thinking, one must be conscious.
  • To see a sight, one must be conscious...
  • To smell a smell...

Comparing with Mahayanist concepts:

• Anusaya kilesās are not based on discrimination and erroneous reasoning (Lanka)
• Anusaya kilesās are not in the Ālaya-vijñāna (the Universal Mind, storehouse consciousness), nor are related to the buddha-nature (Buddha-dhàtu, Buddha-svabhāva). The Mahayanist Ālaya-vijñāna and Buddha-svabhāva are neither citta nor cetasika known to the Vibhajjavadis.

2.8.3. The Role of Saññā

Saññā is a type of cetasika. Other cetasika are vedanā and saṅkhāra. Cetasika is a reality (paramattha).
Saññā is memory (events) and perception (a form of mano-saṅkhārā). However, saññā and saṅkhārā must be different. Saññā must not be saṅkhārā (construct). Saññā must be a raw material. Although saññā and saṅkhārā are similar, saññā must not be saṅkhārā or a product of saṅkhārā.
Saññā as the past events is memory. Events are not imagined. Events occur at the present are reality (not memory).
Saññā can exist as the future events or future memory, like a plan. If a plan is possible to be carried out, then some future events are predictable. In that sense, some future events are knowable.
A Buddha can analyse an individual's mentality and potentials. Based on that knowledge, a Buddha can know and prophesies some major events about an individual or the world. However, a Buddha cannot know the potentials of all the individuals with weak mind (Iddhipāda) and faculties (indriya) who travel randomly any direction into the dark.
This is what the Buddha said about those going into the dark:

The chance for a being in a hell to be reborn as a human is less than that of a blind turtle, surfacing once a century, to happen to put its head through a ring moved by the winds across the surface of the sea. Even if a human rebirth is attained, the person will be poor, ugly and ill, and will tend to do evil actions which will send him or her back to hell (M. iii.169; Bca. iv.20)

PETER HARVEY. AN INTRODUCTION TO BUDDHIST ETHICS: Foundations, Values and Issues. Page 30 University of Sunderland
The Buddha advised the monks to go into the relief from the burden of nāma and rūpa:

“Monks, that’s how rare it is to get reborn as a human being. That’s how rare it is for a fully enlightened Buddha to be born into the world. That’s how rare it is for the Dhamma and training taught by a Buddha to shine in the world. Now, monks, you have been reborn as a human being. A fully enlightened Buddha has been born into the world. The Dhamma and training taught by a Buddha shine in the world.

Iddhipāda

iddhiyā pādo iddhipādo, i.e., root or basis of attaining completion or perfection (success or potency). [79] [The Venerable Ledi Sayādaw. The Requisites of Enlightenment (Bodhipakkhiya Dīpanī), Buddhist Publication Society, Kandy • Sri Lanka, The Wheel Publicaton No. 171/172/173/174.]
4. Iddhipāda Sutta.-The path mentioned above should be practised, accompanied by concentration and effort, compounded with desire, energy, idea and investigation. S.iv.365.

Indriya

1. Faculty of faith (saddh’- indriya) [Nyanatiloka Mahāthera. Guide through the Abhidhamma Piþaka, Page 18]

Avijjā-paccaya saṅkhāra; Saṅkhāra-paccāya vinnānam;

• Avijjā and saññā condition the saṅkhārā. Avijjā is a type of kilesā cetasika (mental defilement). Avijjā exists in two forms: Delusion or the lack of right view; Heedlessness or the lack of mindfulness. Both forms of avijjā are always present in saññā (i.e. wrong view).

Saṅkhāra is construct and construction.

Mano-saṅkhāra can also be understood as percept.

• percept. noun. : an impression of an object obtained by use of the senses : SENSE-DATUM (Merriam-Webster)
• Percept: a mental concept that is developed as a consequence of the process of perception [Google/Oxford Languages].
• [percept:] Perception usually combines several sensations into one thought or percept. The percept, of course, is a mental state corresponding with its outside object. A Percept is the product of Perception, or in other words, our idea gained through Perception

Saññā and Vipassanā

Saññā can be understood as sense-datum, outside object, perception, and memory.

The sense-datum is an object immediately present in experience. It has the qualities it appears to have.
A controversial issue is whether sense-data have real, concrete existence. Depending upon the version of the sense-data theory adopted, sense-data may or may not be identical with aspects of external physical objects; they may or may not be entities that exist privately in the subject’s mind. Usually, however, sense-data are interpreted to be distinct from the external physical objects we perceive. The leading view, in so far as the notion is appealed to in current philosophy, is that an awareness of (or acquaintance with) sense-data somehow mediates the subject’s perception of mind-independent physical objects. The sense-datum is the bearer of the phenomenal qualities that the subject is immediately aware of. [Sense-Data (Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy)]

Lifeforms (nama-rūpa complexes) and the law of life (Paticcasamuppada) have existed in the past infinity. Saññā as memory can be recalled or accessed by anyone. Some arahants can recall the past 500 lives. Some arahants recalled several eons of the past Earths. A Buddha can recall with no limit in a very short moment. The Sakyamuni Buddha said, even if He spent His entire lifetime, He would not reach the beginning (of existence), which is considered non-existent.
Inthe Western thought, the natural memory can be improved by training [Javier Vergara / Procedia (Page 3513) - Social and Behavioral Sciences 46 ( 2012 ) 3512 – 3518)]. In the Theravada teaching, a liberated mind (which attained arahantta phala) can recall at least the past 500 lives.
Saṅkhāra and saññā belong to cetasika, which is a paramattha (reality). However, they are impermanent. That begs a question: How can the impermanent saṅkhāra and saññā be accessed? They are impermanent in theory, as they will be forgotten. The physical destruction of the memory of the past events might not happen.
As though written down into books, the memories (including sense-data) seem not to have disappeared. The fact is each of us can recall the memory, which stays with us for a lifetime. We are forgetful and cannot recall our memories whever we want to; however, they are present, and our minds revisit them sometimes. Our inability to explain how memories exist should not prevent us from admitting the fact that memories exist and can be recalled. These noble ariyas can know others' minds and access the past memories and forsee the future events.
Avijja-paccaya sankhara (ignorance conditions/supports a construct; e.g. sakkāyadiṭṭhi).

• Avijjā (ignorance) is saññā (as memory, misperception or wrong view).
• Saṅkhāra (as activity) is misunderstanding/misperceiving nama-rūpa complex as an I-being, I am, he is, she is, it is, they are... Misperceiving the nama-rūpa complexes as individuals or as beings (I-beings).
• Saññā and saṅkhāra are always together as one's problems.
• Saṅkhāra-paccāya vinnānam: when saṅkhāra (e.g. idea) is present, consciousness arises. One begins to know the construct. Saññā-Saṅkhāra are the subject to know (be conscious about).
• Saṅkhāra-paccāya vinnānam: Saṅkhāra bridges between saññā and viññāṇa—perceiving is made of saññā, saṅkhāra and viññāṇa.
• Sabbe saṅkhāra anicca—all constructs are impermanence;
• Construction: Saṅkhāra as activity (intentional or unintentional):
  • sankhara-paccaya vinnanam (Dependent on reaction (conditioning), consciousness arises);
  • Mano-saṅkhāra (Citta-Saṅkhāra), vaci-saṅkhāra, kaya-saṅkhāra—mental, verbal and bodily construct/activity which a being performs intentionally or unintentionally;
  • Cetana is also intention (volition).

Saññā (memory) is like the soil and fertilizer. Sight, sound, smell, taste, touch, or thought acts like a signal (reminder).

• In vipassanā, one puts effort to block the reminder reaching the memory (saññā)—like a responsible person kills the fire before it reaches the gunpowder. Once a sense reminder (ayatana) reaches saññā, they give birth to kamma sankhāras. The sense reminder (ayatana) is too fast for the untrained minds to block. So one does not block it but avoid it. One must develop the mind to have this avoiding ability and skill through a gradual training which comprises the indriya-samvara-sila and vipassanā. Basically, it means to prevent mano-saṅkhāra (thought) because it leads vaci-saṅkhāra and kaya-saṅkhāra.
• As the kilesā are not fed or fertilised, they will become weak and suitable for jhāna development; however, they will remain as Anusaya Kilesās. Only the vipassanā-ñana can totally eradicate Anusaya Kilesās.

Indriya-samvara-sila and Vipassanā

"In seeing there is merely seeing. In hearing there is merely hearing. In sensing there is merely sensing. In cognizing there is merely cognizing. In this way you should train yourself. "Bāhiya, when there is only seeing in seeing, hearing in hearing, sensing in sensing, cognizing in cognizing, then you will not be 'with that.' When you are not 'with that,' you will not be 'in that.' When you are not 'in that,' you will be neither here nor beyond nor in between the two. Just this is the end of suffering." [The Bāhiya Sutta (Douglas C. B. Kraft)]

Four Types of Capacity for Path Attainment

It is stated in the Puggalapaññatti (the “Book of Classification of Individuals,” (p. 160) and in the Aṅguttara Nikāya (AN 4:133) that, of the beings who encounter the Sāsana, i.e., the Teaching of the Buddha, four classes can be distinguished, viz.:
A padaparama is an individual who [...] cannot obtain release from worldly ills during this lifetime. If he dies while practising samatha (tranquillity) or vipassanā (insight) and attains rebirth either as a human being or a deva in his next existence, he can attain release from worldly ills in that existence within the present Buddha Sāsana.
niyata : one who has obtained a sure prediction made by a Buddha.
aniyata : one who has not obtained a sure prediction made by a Buddha.
aniyata neyya individuals can attain release from worldly ills in this life only if they put forth sufficient effort [...] within the present Buddha Sāsana.

(The Venerable Ledi Sayādaw. The Requisites of Enlightenment (Bodhipakkhiya Dīpanī))

2.8.4. Our concern:

Our concerns are our own mental, verbal and bodily activities:
Due to delusion (avijjā), we do not know where we have been and what we should do during this lifetime. The purpose of life in general is to practice selfishness to ultimate level.
One builds a life only to lose it to the death. Nobody can reclaim his/her previous life, properties, wealth and works. Rebirth in dugati-loka does not allow rebuilding life. One must get another opportunity in sugati-loka.
Due to clinging (upādāna) to self, one cannot separate from the new life, which is now. One always clings to the new life because of sakkāyadiṭṭhi (sakkāya-diṭṭhi). The past life is like yesterday.

• Sakkāyadiṭṭhi: clinging to nāma-rūpa as I am—i.e. this body is me, mine; the major wrong view (mano-saṅkhāra)
  • Nāma: the four mental khandas (vedanā, saññā, saṅkhāra and viññāṇa).
  • Rūpa: the corporeal body or the four mahābhūta.

Remember the following:

• Sakkāyadiṭṭhi is ego, egocentric and a very heavy burden to carry and climb uphill.
• Sakkāyadiṭṭhi extends beyond one's five aggregates.
• Sakkāyadiṭṭhi extends to others' five aggregates as well. So we can hear people say, this is mine, and that is also mine.
• Sakkāyadiṭṭhi only helps one to fall downhill.
• A chance of getting relief from this burden is rare.
• A chance to know true dana, sila, bhavanā is very rare.
• One day this body will be thrown away or buried somewhere; and that body, too.
• Truth is painful as long as one is clinging to the five aggregates.
• Thus, our true concerns are our own mental, verbal and bodily activities.

The Buddha warns us to reflect the following:

"The five facts that one should reflect on often, whether one is a woman or a man, lay or ordained..."
'I am subject to aging, have not gone beyond aging.'
'I am subject to illness, have not gone beyond illness.'
'I am subject to death, have not gone beyond death.'
'I will grow different, separate from all that is dear and appealing to me.'
'I am the owner of my actions,[1] heir to my actions, born of my actions, related through my actions, and have my actions as my arbitrator. Whatever I do, for good or for evil, to that will I fall heir.'

[Upajjhatthana Sutta— AN 5.57 (Thanissaro Bhikkhu)]

Upādāna (clinging) manifests as mano-saṅkhāra (mental activity/construct):

We cling to live body and dead body. We have seen enough pain in society in good time and bad time.
Upādānakkhandha：[m．] the factors of clinging to existence．
The five upādānakkhandha: rūpakkhandha, vedanākkhandha, saññākkhandha, saṅkhārakkhandha, viññāṇakkhandha

We take the body for self; thus we cling to rupakkhandha. We take mentality for self; thus we cling to vedanakkhandha, to sannakkhandha, to sankharakkhandha and to vinnanakkhandha. If we cling to the khandhas and if we do not see them as they are, we will have sorrow.

Saṅkhārakkhandha (m.) the aggregate of mental coefficients

• Saṅkhāra among the five aggregates is mano-saṅkhāra. Saṅkhārakkhandha is also designated as upādānakkhandha as there is clinging.
• The upādānakkhandha rises from sakkāyadiṭṭhi (clinging to self and the five aggregates).
• Most beings cling to all these five. Some cling to either rūpa or nāma and are reborn in the arūpa-brahma worlds.
• Will is the intention to get a desired object. To will means to get something one desires. One wills, and as one is willing, one acts. In this process, will and dukkha (suffering) rise together spontaneously.

In Samyutta Nikaya Sutta 12.25 the Buddha said “With ignorance as condition, either by oneself, Ananda, one wills bodily intentions (kāya Saṅkhāra), following which arises internally pleasure and pain; or, because of others one wills bodily intentions, following which arises internally, pleasure and pain.” [CONDITIONED ARISING OF SUFFERING (Ven. Dhammavuddho Mahāthera)]

• 'Bodily intention' (kaya-saṅkhāra): intention to act bodily;
• Kāya: body, bodily;
• Intention: mano-saṅkhāra
• Mental pain and pleasure; as intention is inside the mind, pleasure and pain are internal (inside the mind).

Anusaya Kilesas: Bhava-Taṇhă to Bhava-Saṅkhāra

Three types of taṇhă: kama-taṇhă, bhava-taṇhă, vibhava-taṇhă.

'Wherever in the world, there are delightful and pleasurable things, there this taṇhă (craving) arises and takes root.' [...] By 'taking root' is meant that, failing to contemplate on the impermanent nature of pleasurable things, craving for them lies dormant, taking root to arise when favourable circumstances permit. This latent craving, lying dormant in sense-objects which escape being contemplated on, is known as ărammananusaya. [U Ko Lay. Discose on the Wheel of Dhamma - Part 5: Maha Satipatthăna Sutta. SukhiHotu Dhamma Publication,1998)]

The Effect of Anusaya Kilesās: Kāmataṇhā and Kāma-loka:

After the destruction of a world of beings, either by a cosmic fire, flood or storm, only darkness remains in space, completely empty and void.
After forever and an aeon, and after cosmic condensation and precipitation, at the same place another human world will be reborn as a body of liquid just like the previous ones. This water body, as big as a planet, will gradually become suitable to support life.
Some of the Brahmas, who have lived their lifespans, will be reborn as humans in that new human world. The first-ever generation of humans are sky-dwellers, with brahma-like body, brahma-like rays, brahma-like lifespan and brahma-like lifestyle. Their auras can shine like the moon and the sun.
Gradually, after passing forever and an aeon, the water mass will condense into physical nutrition. Seeing that beautiful physical food and breathing its nice smell for forever and an aeon, these beings will eventually lose control due to their anusaya kilesa stirring and rising in their minds.
One of them will taste it, eat it and persuade others to do the same—that is how eating is the first religion and politics.

1. ... It was endowed with colour, smell and taste. It was the colour of fine ghee or butter, and it was very sweet, like pure wild honey. [Aggañña Sutta (DN27 On Knowledge of Beginnings) (Pali Canon Online)]

All things must come to an end one day. This is the impermanent nature of everything, anicca. So also the world [...] During the destruction of the world, all living beings become Brahmas and dwell in Brahma which is not affected by [the destruction.] [Ashin Janakabhivamsa. Part 2 - How The World Came To An End.]

I am currently on the Caribbean Princess. It’s been a long time since I have been on a Princess cruise - at least ten years. In contrast, I was on the Solstice last year and the Edge twice two years ago.
For starters, this ship is older than the other two. That’s not what this comparison is about, as each ship has it’s own nuances and limitations and older ships must be forgiven certain inconveniences. Rather, this is about the services each line provides and how they measure up to one another as direct competitors in the “uplevel” lines of their respective companies.
What does Princess do better at? In a week, I have encountered two things:

• Internet service has only one tier, and it’s incredible. While latency can get hairy when the clouds get heavy, I have had no trouble with gated ports or download/streaming speeds when the environment isn’t a factor. Celebrity has two tiers, where most ports are blocked and speed is throttled on the lower tier.
  
• The “Medallion” RFID system is incredibly convenient. While there is a “Big Brother” element, the doors open automatically and the servers know who you are without having to break a card out and pushing it into a device.
  

Now. There are a whole bunch of things Princess is falling behind at and ought to take a page from Celebrity’s playbook.

• Main Dining is a reservation system for all, and there is not enough capacity for all passengers. They do not have a concept of “anytime dining” or first and second seating. This leaves main dining an every-man-for-himself affair where early birds get to eat and late bookers either get stuck begging in standby or are displaced to buffet. I don’t care what line it is, there should always be a seat in main dining for passengers, even if it’s later than they want.
  
• Main dining is separated into 3 different restaurants with no communication between them. One restaurant may have you waiting 40 minutes while another may seat you right away. Right hand, meet left hand.
  
• There are very few sugar free dessert options in main dining, and none in buffet. Celebrity always has at least three items available, especially at night in buffet. There are diabetics in your target demographic, yo.
  
• Sit down dining is not available for breakfast or lunch during port days. I would be inclined to say this is a staffing thing except it turns the buffet into a zoo reminiscent of departure and folks you’d see in main are running around buffet like chickens with their heads cut off. Celebrity will seat you, even though the selection looks suspiciously buffet-like, and takes pressure off both venues.
  
• Because main dining is so screwed, main shows are timed late - 7:30 and 9:30 most often. In a first/second seating arrangement, these are toggled opposite those seatings so everyone gets a chance. In this scenario, there is a rush for the earlier show and everyone else is left to debate whether it’s worth the second show considering whatever they have going on the next day.
  
• The casino is still smoking permitted. If not the guests, consider the health of your workers, Princess, especially with that small-ass chamber you close the doors to keeping that smoke in and away from the atrium. Gross. While I am no high-roller by any means, I brought $1000 in cash specifically for blackjack that is still in its band because I was unaware Princess still allows smoking and that room is absolutely intolerable. I say it again: GROSS.
  
• (Disclaimer: I used to smoke. Quitting was the hardest thing I have ever done, ever, hands down. Do yourself a favor and stop buying cigarettes. If not, at least do others the courtesy of smoking outside. Gross.)
  
• No covered pool. A design issue for sure, but also a philosophy. Putting a canopy over one of them accommodates the folks who burn rather than tan.
  

All that said, the staff here has been excellent here as anywhere else: busting ass, courteous and friendly. If you don’t at least pay the suggested gratuity, please don’t bother booking.
It’s the little policy and operations stuff that will drive me back to the arms of your competitor, Princess. Fix those, and itinerary will be my only significant consideration when booking my next cruise.

Class: AP Transformation, Zoner, Slayer, Specialist

Role: Mid

Client Theme

---------------------------- 

Contest Relation:

Contrasting Parts, from u/MrMeem1: Sareena & Askol are a zoner mage and skirmisheassassin combo.
Written By a Different Style, from u/lydongwapo: Sareena has a unique use for her ult that operates more as a basic ability, but can cast a full ultimate by meeting some conditions. Both parts have a unique Ult that share their CD.
A Story Through Action: Sareena’s playstyle can be best described as “a witch summoning Satan”, by setting up the field and targeting enemies as sacrifice for her demonic spawn. They also operate as a necessary pair. Sareena is squishy and lacks damage but her abilities are required to operate Askol properly. As such, they are symbiotic just like in their lore.

Commentary:

Once again this was a revamp of an old idea. The concept was to make a spin on the whole “mother of the anti-christ” trope, as well as the inner demon trope. Its usually smth horrific, a supernatural crime against an innocent person, usually a young woman. But what if it didn’t need to be? What if not only were they both evil but the host was actually the worst of the two? Take the trope of being forced to give birth to a demon, twist it on its head and make it empowering, having the vessel be the one twisting the second party but not for good, like how we usually see these situations in media. That's what's at the core of Sareena’s story and design.
Gameplay wise, they are a symbiotic pair that uses combos, cash ins, setups and versatile resources to accomplish their goal. Been playing a lot of Master Duel as of late, so I wanted smth that resembled that type of game feel.

Appearance:

Sareena is a black haired tan woman with black markings across her whole body. Wears a white ornate gown over a black skirt. She is very visibly pregnant with an ominous red glow emanating from her belly.
Askol takes a shape similar to Aurelion Sol, but with a large round eyeless head and human toothless mouth that is always unhinged open. Has 2 pairs of sickle arms compsed of a flowing fire like substance, red and black. Its tail splits into 2 transluscent flaps resembling wings. Sareena's body is attached to Askol as well, with her arms embracing it from behind and her hair acting as a mane. Her skin is flayed and turned into fleshy membranes that act as wings.

Lore:

Sareena served dutifully under the Black Rose as one of many witches in charge of managing and weaponizing demons, the spirit realm and all matters of esoteric and ancient magics. But she was also special.
Centuries ago, the Black Rose encountered a most strange object in the spirit realm: some kind of spherical set of sigils surrounding a giant malformed entity, left alone in a ruin of Targonian origin. No mages could approach it without feeling an intense heat emanating from it, except for one. Erebas extended his hand and the sigils opened for him, letting him hold the now tiny egg like creature. As generations passed, Erebas’ descendants were the only ones capable of interacting directly with it. Further investigation on his family and the landscape surrounding the site showed that millenia ago a targonian sect crafted a demon that could kill a star dragon. Why such a weapon would be abandoned eluded the Black Rose, but it wasn’t relevant anymore. They had it now and they knew they couldn’t pass it up. Erebas’ bloodline was now purposely bred to be the most powerful and in touch with the creature, hopefully creating a suitable host for the demon. Sareena was the chosen subject. When she came of age, the entity was implanted into her womb.
Sareena was dutiful, but also ambitious, as any Black Rose witch worth her salt would be. As the being gestated, she slowly started connecting with it, analyzing it and learning about the spirit world through it. The entity was more awake than it let out and only she could see it. It had thoughts and agency. It had needs. Sareena started treating it more and more like her actual child, even naming it “Askol”, meaning “messiah” in Ochnun. Askol in turn gave her power. Sareena could feel unspeakable levels of magic emanating from it and flowing into her body. After a few months of testing the limits of their fused strength, black and red markings started to form on her skin. Her dreams were filled with visions of burning fields and blackened skies. One night, she decided to dig deeper into the dream.
She found herself in a completely dark space with a red orb in the center. She heard a strange voice from it. Askol’s voice. It told her to touch it and see what it sees the world for. She abided. Instantly images flooded her head: stars bleeding crimson, constellations made of black holes, planets cracked and reforged into rocky amalgamations held together by corpses of dragons, unspeakable monsters crawling on their surface. Sareena understood why the sect never released Askol: It was untamable, a wild beast bent on consuming and rebuilding all of creation. The truth of the method was also revealed: Askol was a parasite. The star dragon equivalent of a tapeworm. They knew they could never kill a dragon outright, so instead they made something smaller but deadly enough. Sareena reeled back, staring at the orb.
She smiled.She grabbed the orb and held it tight to her chest. Her baby, her little Messiah.
Her final weapon. Askol was a wild animal with the potential to sunder the universe, but ultimately still a cub in need of care and belonging. She knew she could use that to her favor. Askol now had something it would have never expected: A mother’s love.
As their hearts touched in the spirit realm, limitless power poured in the physical plane, destroying Sareena’s manor and all its residents. Askol emerged wrapped in the warped body of its mother and flew far into what used to be Camavor. There, it condensed back into her. Sareena was somewhat surprised to see herself in one piece as Askol cheered from her insides. She noticed that all pains from pregnancy were gone, she could only feel the wriggling demon and the seething power, though she was still visibly pregnant. She was transformed, warped into something greater than a mere human.
Askol may be just a worm to a deity, but for Runeterra and its heroes and villains, it might as well be their almighty God. And Sareena not only had exclusive rights to its power, she had its affection. Swain? An old fool. The Black Rose? Pathetic cowards Mordekaiser? A relic of the past. The Darkin? The other demons? Wannabe apocalypse bringers soon to be devoured by their true demonic messiah. Only the firmament could stand up to them.
Too bad that's exactly what they were made to destroy.

KIT:

Shared Passive: A Time and a Place 

Innate: Baleful Union

• You always start the game and respawn as Sareena, who has a small HP pool. When you die, you instead go into Stasis as Askol takes Sareena’ place after 1 Second.
• Sareena has 300/450/600/750 HP at levels 1/6/11/16 + (50 per level) and doesn’t gain Bonus AD but otherwise benefits normally from all stats and has her own set of abilities. Askol benefits normally from items and level stats.

Innate: Shared Power

• Both Sareena and Askol share their Ultimates’ CDSareena KitPassive: Marks of The Beast

All of Sareena’s abilities leave marks on the ground or on enemies. These marks are initially Dormant until triggered, becoming Manifested. In both states, the marks all last 6 + (0.3 per level) Seconds. Whenever a mark is triggered, Sareena casts an ability and when Askol emerges, the duration of both Dormant and Manifested marks is refreshed and Sareena gains a burst of 20% + (2% per level) Move Speed decaying over 2 Seconds, refreshing on acquisition. Additionally, Sareena gains a stack of Growing Power whenever a mark is Manifested, lasting until death.
For every 5 Stacks of Growing Power, she consumes them to earn a stack of Marks of The Beast. These stacks are consumed once Askol emerges, granting it 10 + (1 per level) AP until it dies.

Q: Brand Their Soul 

Cost: 50/55/60/65/70 Mana
CD: 11/10/9/8/7 Seconds
Range: 700
Width: 100
Active: Sareena launches a projectile of dark mystic energy in a straight line, dealing 30/60/90/120/150 + (40% AP) magic damage to all enemies struck and applying a Dormant mark on all enemy champions hit. The mark is Manifested if they trigger a mark from W: Corrupt the World and E: Etch Horrid Truths, dealing the damage again, resetting the duration and silencing for 0.5 Seconds.

W: Corrupt the World 

Cost: 70 Mana
CD: 10 Seconds
Range: 750
AoE: 400
Active: Create an evil sigil on the ground that arms after 0.7 Seconds. If an enemy champion, large monster or Sareena steps on it, it Manifests dealing 20/50/80/110/140 + (60% AP) magic damage and rooting all enemies in it for 1/1.3/1.6/1.9/2.2 Seconds. The same target cannot be rooted by another instance of this effect for 6 Seconds.

E: Etch Horrid Truths 

Cost: 35 Mana
CD: 2 Seconds
Charge Time: 10/9/8/7/6 Seconds
Range: 600
Connection Range: 1200
Line Width: 200
Passive: This ability holds up to 2/2/3/3/4 charges.
Active: Consume a charge to target a point, summoning a spatial rift that arms after 0.7 Seconds and lasts for 3 Seconds. When you summon another rift they send a connecting line of Ochnun text to the nearest two already existing rifts. The connected rifts and the lines become Dormant marks. When an enemy champion or large monster walks into these etchings, that particular line Manifests, dealing 15/35/55/75/95 + (20% AP) magic damage every half-second for as long as it lasts and slowing enemies in them by 30/35/40/45/50%, remaining for 0.7 Seconds after leaving the line.
You can have up to 4 rifts active at a time. New rifts over that cap despawn the oldest one.

R: Weave Into Eternity 

Cost: 100 Mana
CD: 90 Seconds
Range: Self
Fear Range: 700
At least 4 Manifested marks must be active to cast this ability
Active: Sareena makes all Manifested marks Dormant again, gaining a shield for 40/60/80 + (10% AP) for each mark affected, lasting 3 Seconds. Then if less than 8 marks were affected, refresh this skill’s CD and Cost by 50/65/80%.
If 8 or more marks are affected, the skill goes on a full CD and you additionally gain Eternity, an effect that carries over to Askol. When Askol dies with this effect on, it will instead reconstruct Sareena while Fearing all enemies in range for 2/2.3/2.6 Seconds.

Askol Kit Passive: Blood and Starsfire 

Whenever a mark is Manifested or made Dormant, refresh the CD of all basic abilities by 1 Second.
If Askol took part in the last kill that Aced the enemy team, Sareena re-emerges.

Q: Reap the Offerings 

Cost: 45 Mana
CD: 10 Seconds
Range: 600
Cone Width: 600
Active: Askol swings its arms in an arc, slashing all enemies struck, dealing 50/90/130/170/210 + (50% AP) magic damage and Manifesting all marks in the AoE.

W: Spreading Doom 

Cost: 100 Mana
CD: 60 Seconds
Range: 900
Width: 450
First Active: Askol removes all marks and rifts regardless of their state or if there are any to remove. For the next 4 Seconds, it can recast for no cost.
Second Active: Sends forward a wide wave that applies Q: Brand Their Soul to all enemies hit, creates a sigil from W: Corrupt the World under all champions hit and connects all ally and enemy champions and large monsters with lines of E: Etch Horrid Truths.

E: Inevitability 

Cost: 80 Mana
CD: 15 Seconds
Range: 850
AoE: 500
Active: Target a Manifested mark to blink to it, making it Dormant and bursting with demonic starfire, dealing 50/90/130/170/210 + (50% AP) magic damage in an area.

R: Dies Irae 

Cost: 100 Mana
CD: 90 Seconds
Range: 600
AoE: 500 + 100/150/200 per consumed mark
Active: Target a Manifested mark within range to make all marks Dormant. From the mark erupts a rift in space that constantly disintegrates matter caught in it, dealing 30/40/50 + (10% AP) magic damage each half-second, lasting for 5/6/7 Seconds. For every mark made Dormant on cast, the AoE size is increased.
All marks inside the area are constantly made Dormant and Manifested every second.

Quotes: Sareena talks even while Askol is out, her voice gains a demonic filter.

Pick: “ Black hole sun, here we come! (Askol emits eldritch noises)”
Ban: “ Soon… “

First Encounter: 

Annie:

• “ They will never let you unlock your true potential, kid. Come with me! ”
• “ Ever wanted a sister, sweetie?” (Askol responds with intelligible noises)
• “ My new world will need kindling, child ”

Lux:

• “ Why fit in when you can dominate? ”
• “ My new world will need a source of light.”
• “ Leave them behind Lux! They don’t deserve you! ”
• “ Light and dark, together as one! Think about it ”

Sylas:

• “ Finally a Demacian I can respect “
• “ Oh by all means, try to touch me…”

Swain:

• “ You are delusional if you think that… thing listens to you (Askol screeches) No darling you are not a “thing” (Askol growls) “
• “ You lost an arm for that? Rookie ”
• “ Hmph. Men will let a monster replace a limb and think they can compare. Typical “

LeBlanc:

• “ I’ll succeed where you failed, hag “
• “ You lack vision “
• “ Don’t think for a second I don’t know you allowed this to transpire “

Vladimir:

• “ Do what you do best and go back to your hole “

Kayle:

• (Askol emits eldritch sounds) “ Oh so she has the stuff you want? I guess we are having chicken for dinner then! ”

Aurelion Sol:

• (Askol emits eldritch sounds) “ There it is! it's… bigger than I expected "
• “ Is THAT what we are looking for?! (Askol emits eldritch sounds) I… right, let's go! ”

Kill

Mordekaiser:

• “ Big one down ”
• “ There. Wasn’t even that hard “
• “ Does soul stuff count as something you can eat? (Askol howls) huh. The more you know ”
• “ Demonic starfire does the trick it seems. And that idiot thought magnets were gonna work “

Aatrox:

• “ I can’t stand nihilists “
• “ viOLeNcE iS mY MeThOD. Oh, hush! “
• “ Ugh he was insufferable ”
• “ Fine, I’ll end the world. But not because you asked “

Any other Ascended:

• “ You already failed. Stay failed and spare us the hassle “
• “ You were terribly uninspired “
• “ For immortal god warriors they sure die real good “

Lissandra:

• “ Poor excuse for a witch “

Syndra:

• “ There can only be one “
• “ You were a liability “
• “ Pity. She looked fun “

Aurelion Sol:

• (Askol lets out an echoing roar) “ A god falls! Heaven quakes! I reign supreme!”
• “ Through the heavens and earth, I alone stand in the apex! (Askol sounds worried) Huh? Of course, Askol. You are with me too…”