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Dorian Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown
2024.05.16 17:57 aelfin Dorian Hightower, Beacon of the South, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown
Reddit Account: aelfin
Discord Tag: Bolt1219
Name and House: Dorian Hightower
Age: 80
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Once tall and strong and proud -- a knight of renown -- the passage of time has seen fit to humble Dorian Hightower. The gold-brown hair of his youth has bleached to silver, his countenance marked by wrinkles. He wears his hair long, often unbound that it frames his features. His beard is neatly styled. Despite the betrayal of his body, Dorian's eyes remain sharp and quick, and his smile is that of a younger man.
Trait: Mastermind
Skill(s): Devious(e), Espionage(e), Assassin
Talent(s): Napping, Meandering, Gardening
Negative Trait(s): Sickly
Starting Title(s): Beacon of the South, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters: n/a
Biogaphy Early Life
In 55BC, under a golden sun in the bustling city of Oldtown, Dorian Hightower was born the second son to Lord Leyton Hightower and his wife Leona Bulwer. His early childhood was marked by a sense of curiosity and an inherent noble pride that was expected of a Hightower; against a backdrop filled with the sounds of the bustling harbour, the smell of the sea, and the sight of a forest of sails coming and going. Oft he would watch the ships as they sailed away and wondered where they went
From a young age, Dorian showed a keen interest in learning and the world around him. His education was that expected of one of his lineage; lessons with the Maester were as important as that of his martial education. At just ten, he was sent to Highgarden to squire for House Gardener. There, amidst the vibrant gardens and rich traditions of the Reach, he learned the values of chivalry, honour, and the importance of duty. His time at Highgarden left a lasting impression on him, fostering a deep respect for the knightly traditions that would shape his later life -- which would make the later actions of the Tyrells sting all the more,
At one-and-seven, Dorian’s path took a scholarly turn. Sent to study at the Citadel, immersed in the halls of knowledge, he began forging his maester's chain, dedicating himself to the studies of copper for history, bronze for astronomy, and iron for warcraft. His mentors noted a sharp intellect and strategic mind, qualities that would serve him well in the years to come.
The Heir to the Hightower
In 35 BC, a marriage united Dorian with Leila Tarly, a match both strategic and affectionate. At the age of twnety Dorian became a father, welcoming his first child, Garlan, into the world. Over the years, the Hightower family grew with the births of Garmund, Delena, Owen, and Lynesse. Each child brought new joy and responsibility, shaping Dorian into a devoted father and a wise lord.
The Stranger visited the Hightowers in 20 BC, when Dorian's older brother, Leyton, the heir to the Hightower, was lost in a shipwreck while returning from a journey to Braavos. At five-and-twenty, Dorian was thrust into the role of heir, a position he had not anticipated. Embracing his new responsibilities with determination, he began learning the intricacies of rule, administration, and justice from his father. Living in Oldtown, the heart of the Faith of the Seven, also imparted a deep spiritual awareness in Dorian. The more he learned, the more he was put into positions of authority. Initially undertaking a role as his father's Steward, Dorian learned quickly that he was much too bored by numbers to be anything close to competent. He was better at dealing with people.
Through his dealings his network grew, and this network, he recognised, could be turned toward the flow of information. The ships he had watched as a boy carried trade, but they also carried words from half the world away. If he could find a way to hear those words before any else, he'd have an advantage -- not only in trade, but in politics as well. Setting to work, Dorian used his House's name to tour as often as he could, finding those in key places that would serve his ends for the right price.
Life and Trials
As the head of House Hightower, Dorian instilled in his family a profound sense of fairness and the importance of knightly traditions. He stressed the values of chivalry and gallantry, ensuring that these principles were deeply rooted in the Hightower legacy. His household became known for its adherence to these values, earning respect and admiration throughout the Reach.
He was an avid hunter, frequently organising grand hunting expeditions in the lands surrounding Oldtown. Not merely for sport, these hunts also served as opportunities to bond with his children and vassals. One notable hunt saw Dorian bring down a formidable stag, a feat that became legendary in his household.
Dorian’s daughter Delena married Harlan Tyrell after a secret tryst, a match that Dorian did not initially support but ultimately was forced to accept. His youngest daughter, Lynesse, found a husband in Willem Ryger. A man whom Dorian had mentored in the art of espionage, and who would later go on to prove the most succesful spymaster in the country.
Feasts at the Hightower were grand affairs, known throughout the Reach for their opulence and hospitality. Dorian believed in the power of communal gatherings, often using these occasions to strengthen alliances and resolve disputes. The harvest feast was a particularly notable event, drawing his vassals to Oldtown to celebrate the bounty of the land, and to reaffirm their loyalty to House Hightower.
From the Ashes:
Family life, however, was not without its hardships, and the Hightowers not immune to tragedy. The House faced a profound loss when Garlan, Dorian's eldest son, was killed on the Field of Fire, turned to ash by dragonfire. This tragedy left Garlan's young son, Gwayne, as Dorian's heir, a heavy burden for the grieving boy to bear at such a young age. By then Dorian was a man nearing his sixtieth decade, not young by any stretch, and so particularly attension was paid to Gwayne's education near to the exclusion of all else. A small army of learned men were brought in to cover every aspect that would eventually be required of him. Dorian hardly went anywhere without his grandson in tow. The Seven Kingdoms might have been united, but the dawn of this new age was eclipsed by Dorian's fears that he would pass before his heir was ready, and he had known many a House felled by the poorly equipped.
Dorian levied from Lord Hightower against House Costayne of having refused the call to rally at Oldtown, backed by the word of the High Septon. A host marched on Three Towers but was met with denial from Lord Costayne who eventually demanded a trial by combat. Gyles Gardener offered himself as champion, and for his victory was given rule over Three Towers, with the fallen lord’s kin being exiled to Essos. Aegon Targaryen was crowned in the Starry Sept upon their return.
In 8AC, a band of sellswords by the name of the Black Roses arrived in Oldtown, headed up by Harlon Costayne, offering cheap mercenaries for the city and protection for its trade. Dorian put to them a challenge, a trial by combat to determine if the Seven stood with the Roses. Pit against a knight of Oldtown, the Black Roses emerged the victorious party, and Dorian issued them leave to remain so long as they served the Reach and her interests.
25AC
Life is a loan, and eventually all men's accounts are settled in full. Having passed into his eightieth year, Dorian Hightower knows the end is nearing for him. Age wracks his body, though his mind remains sharp. He has prepared his grandson as best as he could have done, and all that remains is the wait until his last, content in the knowledge. For the first time in a decade, the Lord of the Hightower has descended from his perch and travels towards King's Landing.
Timeline:
55 BC - Birth of Dorian Hightower
Name and House: Gwayne Hightower
Age: 30
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Gwayne stands the perfect example of the Hightower ideal; in him are the echoes of his father and his grandfather and the knightly traditions of the Hightower. He boasts hazel-hued eyes that are dominant green, alight with curiosity. His hair seems to shfit between a gold and a shade dark brown dependant on the light. Oft seen in the colours of his house; smoke greys cut with whites or greens.
Trait: Champion,
Skill(s): Swords, Andal Knight(e)
Talent(s): Hunting, Hawking, Harp
Negative Trait(s): n/a
Starting Title(s): Heir to the Hightower, Ser
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters:n/a
Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/#view:SZ32K
Biography:
Born in 5BC, the firstborn son to Garlan Hightower, Gwayne was bathed in a viridescent light, anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light that filled the sept in the Hightower. This act alone is reserved for the heirs to the Hightower, a ceremony to mark them from birth as defenders of the Faith. His early life was a happy one, though he recalls little of the time. His mother and father were truly in love. Only two years later after his birth would his brother follow, and their two sisters after them. His grandfather's hall and hearth was filled with the laughter of children.
It was Garlan Hightower who held command of the Hightower host the fateful day that dragonfire swept across the Field of Fire, who perished there on the field, and whose bones were turned to ash and no longer able to be laid to rest. Gwayne was too young to grasp the reality of it, and before long his Grandfather had him learning with such intensity that he hardly had time to process the fact his father wasn't coming home.
Life turned into a steady routine of learning. His lessons consisted of how to act at court, his histories, his number and letters, and martial training in the yard. He would be woken before the dawn and not be permitted to bed until the sun had slipped away and night had fallen. Recklessly bold, oft he would attempt to climb the exterior of the Hightower and be scolded for the act if discovered.
His first true test at arms came when in the form of pirates. They had made their home in a cove and would strike out at ships fat and ripe with goods. Gwayne rode out with a small band of men, headed up by his uncle, Owen. For a week they scoured the coastline looking for signs of their quarry, and eventually, one night, sky unclouded and stars bright, they saw the fires. Come the dawn the charge of the Reachmen sent the pirates srambling for their weapons, and though they put up a fight, they were cut down to a man and their ships burned. Of those that surrendered, they would hang at the port in Oldtown as a stark reminder. For his bravery Gwayne was given their Valyrian Steel sword, Vigilance, upon his return.
He would seek out his glory in the lists after that, travelling the length of the Seven Kingdoms looking to make his name as a knight. Tourney followed tourney, but at each stop he remembered to paya visit to the local Sept and offer prayer. He lent a hand where he could. Sometimes he found friends, sometimes he found foe.
When the Orphans of the Fire descended on the Reach, Gwayne wished to march out and chase them down, but Dorian refused him -- and as well he did, for the chaos wrought by the Orphans might have claimed him, and Dorian was adamant that he would not lose another heir to fire. The inaction rankled at Gwayne, but he heeded his grandfather's words all the same.
Now, in 25AC, with Dorian ailing and a celebration called, Gwayne travels toward the event and prepares himself for what may come.
Timeline: 5 BC - Birth of Gwayne Hightower
submitted by aelfin to ITRPCommunity [link] [comments]
Discord Tag: Bolt1219
Name and House: Dorian Hightower
Age: 80
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Once tall and strong and proud -- a knight of renown -- the passage of time has seen fit to humble Dorian Hightower. The gold-brown hair of his youth has bleached to silver, his countenance marked by wrinkles. He wears his hair long, often unbound that it frames his features. His beard is neatly styled. Despite the betrayal of his body, Dorian's eyes remain sharp and quick, and his smile is that of a younger man.
Trait: Mastermind
Skill(s): Devious(e), Espionage(e), Assassin
Talent(s): Napping, Meandering, Gardening
Negative Trait(s): Sickly
Starting Title(s): Beacon of the South, Defender of Oldtown, Defender of the Citadel, Lord of Oldtown, Lord of the Hightower, Lord of the Port, Voice of Oldtown
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters: n/a
Biogaphy Early Life
In 55BC, under a golden sun in the bustling city of Oldtown, Dorian Hightower was born the second son to Lord Leyton Hightower and his wife Leona Bulwer. His early childhood was marked by a sense of curiosity and an inherent noble pride that was expected of a Hightower; against a backdrop filled with the sounds of the bustling harbour, the smell of the sea, and the sight of a forest of sails coming and going. Oft he would watch the ships as they sailed away and wondered where they went
From a young age, Dorian showed a keen interest in learning and the world around him. His education was that expected of one of his lineage; lessons with the Maester were as important as that of his martial education. At just ten, he was sent to Highgarden to squire for House Gardener. There, amidst the vibrant gardens and rich traditions of the Reach, he learned the values of chivalry, honour, and the importance of duty. His time at Highgarden left a lasting impression on him, fostering a deep respect for the knightly traditions that would shape his later life -- which would make the later actions of the Tyrells sting all the more,
At one-and-seven, Dorian’s path took a scholarly turn. Sent to study at the Citadel, immersed in the halls of knowledge, he began forging his maester's chain, dedicating himself to the studies of copper for history, bronze for astronomy, and iron for warcraft. His mentors noted a sharp intellect and strategic mind, qualities that would serve him well in the years to come.
The Heir to the Hightower
In 35 BC, a marriage united Dorian with Leila Tarly, a match both strategic and affectionate. At the age of twnety Dorian became a father, welcoming his first child, Garlan, into the world. Over the years, the Hightower family grew with the births of Garmund, Delena, Owen, and Lynesse. Each child brought new joy and responsibility, shaping Dorian into a devoted father and a wise lord.
The Stranger visited the Hightowers in 20 BC, when Dorian's older brother, Leyton, the heir to the Hightower, was lost in a shipwreck while returning from a journey to Braavos. At five-and-twenty, Dorian was thrust into the role of heir, a position he had not anticipated. Embracing his new responsibilities with determination, he began learning the intricacies of rule, administration, and justice from his father. Living in Oldtown, the heart of the Faith of the Seven, also imparted a deep spiritual awareness in Dorian. The more he learned, the more he was put into positions of authority. Initially undertaking a role as his father's Steward, Dorian learned quickly that he was much too bored by numbers to be anything close to competent. He was better at dealing with people.
Through his dealings his network grew, and this network, he recognised, could be turned toward the flow of information. The ships he had watched as a boy carried trade, but they also carried words from half the world away. If he could find a way to hear those words before any else, he'd have an advantage -- not only in trade, but in politics as well. Setting to work, Dorian used his House's name to tour as often as he could, finding those in key places that would serve his ends for the right price.
Life and Trials
As the head of House Hightower, Dorian instilled in his family a profound sense of fairness and the importance of knightly traditions. He stressed the values of chivalry and gallantry, ensuring that these principles were deeply rooted in the Hightower legacy. His household became known for its adherence to these values, earning respect and admiration throughout the Reach.
He was an avid hunter, frequently organising grand hunting expeditions in the lands surrounding Oldtown. Not merely for sport, these hunts also served as opportunities to bond with his children and vassals. One notable hunt saw Dorian bring down a formidable stag, a feat that became legendary in his household.
Dorian’s daughter Delena married Harlan Tyrell after a secret tryst, a match that Dorian did not initially support but ultimately was forced to accept. His youngest daughter, Lynesse, found a husband in Willem Ryger. A man whom Dorian had mentored in the art of espionage, and who would later go on to prove the most succesful spymaster in the country.
Feasts at the Hightower were grand affairs, known throughout the Reach for their opulence and hospitality. Dorian believed in the power of communal gatherings, often using these occasions to strengthen alliances and resolve disputes. The harvest feast was a particularly notable event, drawing his vassals to Oldtown to celebrate the bounty of the land, and to reaffirm their loyalty to House Hightower.
From the Ashes:
Family life, however, was not without its hardships, and the Hightowers not immune to tragedy. The House faced a profound loss when Garlan, Dorian's eldest son, was killed on the Field of Fire, turned to ash by dragonfire. This tragedy left Garlan's young son, Gwayne, as Dorian's heir, a heavy burden for the grieving boy to bear at such a young age. By then Dorian was a man nearing his sixtieth decade, not young by any stretch, and so particularly attension was paid to Gwayne's education near to the exclusion of all else. A small army of learned men were brought in to cover every aspect that would eventually be required of him. Dorian hardly went anywhere without his grandson in tow. The Seven Kingdoms might have been united, but the dawn of this new age was eclipsed by Dorian's fears that he would pass before his heir was ready, and he had known many a House felled by the poorly equipped.
Dorian levied from Lord Hightower against House Costayne of having refused the call to rally at Oldtown, backed by the word of the High Septon. A host marched on Three Towers but was met with denial from Lord Costayne who eventually demanded a trial by combat. Gyles Gardener offered himself as champion, and for his victory was given rule over Three Towers, with the fallen lord’s kin being exiled to Essos. Aegon Targaryen was crowned in the Starry Sept upon their return.
In 8AC, a band of sellswords by the name of the Black Roses arrived in Oldtown, headed up by Harlon Costayne, offering cheap mercenaries for the city and protection for its trade. Dorian put to them a challenge, a trial by combat to determine if the Seven stood with the Roses. Pit against a knight of Oldtown, the Black Roses emerged the victorious party, and Dorian issued them leave to remain so long as they served the Reach and her interests.
25AC
Life is a loan, and eventually all men's accounts are settled in full. Having passed into his eightieth year, Dorian Hightower knows the end is nearing for him. Age wracks his body, though his mind remains sharp. He has prepared his grandson as best as he could have done, and all that remains is the wait until his last, content in the knowledge. For the first time in a decade, the Lord of the Hightower has descended from his perch and travels towards King's Landing.
Timeline:
55 BC - Birth of Dorian Hightower
- Born in Oldtown under a golden sun, second son to Lord Leyton Hightower and Leona Bulwer.
- Early childhood filled with curiosity and noble pride, amidst the bustling harbor and forest of sails.
- At ten, Dorian begins to squire for House Gardener at Highgarden.
- Learns values of chivalry, honor, and duty which leave a lasting impression.
- At seventeen, Dorian studies at the Citadel.
- Forges his maester's chain with links of copper (history), bronze (astronomy), and iron (warcraft).
- Dorian marries Leila Tarly, a strategic and affectionate match.
- Garlan Hightower is born when Dorian is twenty.
- Followed by Garmund, Delena, Owen, and Lynesse over the next five years.
- Dorian's older brother Leyton dies in a shipwreck, making Dorian the heir at twenty-five.
- Dorian starts learning rule, administration, and justice from his father, becoming his Steward.
- Dorian uses House Hightower's name and tours frequently to build a network for intelligence.
- Dorian instills values of fairness and knightly traditions in his family.
- Known for organizing grand hunting expeditions and legendary feats.
- Delena marries Harlan Tyrell after a secret tryst.
- Lynesse marries Willem Ryger, a man mentored by Dorian.
- Feasts at the Hightower are renowned for their opulence and hospitality.
- The harvest feast draws vassals to Oldtown to celebrate and reaffirm loyalty.
- Garlan, Dorian's eldest son, is killed in battle.
- Garlan's son, Gwayne, becomes Dorian's heir, leading to intense focus on his education.
- Dorian accuses House Costayne of refusing to rally at Oldtown.
- A host marches on Three Towers; Lord Costayne demands trial by combat.
- Gyles Gardener wins and takes rule over Three Towers.
- The Black Roses, a sellsword company, arrives in Oldtown.
- Dorian issues them a trial by combat; they emerge victorious and are allowed to stay.
- Travels to King's Landing for the first time in a decade, content with his preparations.
Name and House: Gwayne Hightower
Age: 30
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: Gwayne stands the perfect example of the Hightower ideal; in him are the echoes of his father and his grandfather and the knightly traditions of the Hightower. He boasts hazel-hued eyes that are dominant green, alight with curiosity. His hair seems to shfit between a gold and a shade dark brown dependant on the light. Oft seen in the colours of his house; smoke greys cut with whites or greens.
Trait: Champion,
Skill(s): Swords, Andal Knight(e)
Talent(s): Hunting, Hawking, Harp
Negative Trait(s): n/a
Starting Title(s): Heir to the Hightower, Ser
Starting Location: Starting Event
Alternate Characters:n/a
Family Tree: https://www.familyecho.com/#view:SZ32K
Biography:
Born in 5BC, the firstborn son to Garlan Hightower, Gwayne was bathed in a viridescent light, anointed with the seven oils and named in the rainbow of light that filled the sept in the Hightower. This act alone is reserved for the heirs to the Hightower, a ceremony to mark them from birth as defenders of the Faith. His early life was a happy one, though he recalls little of the time. His mother and father were truly in love. Only two years later after his birth would his brother follow, and their two sisters after them. His grandfather's hall and hearth was filled with the laughter of children.
It was Garlan Hightower who held command of the Hightower host the fateful day that dragonfire swept across the Field of Fire, who perished there on the field, and whose bones were turned to ash and no longer able to be laid to rest. Gwayne was too young to grasp the reality of it, and before long his Grandfather had him learning with such intensity that he hardly had time to process the fact his father wasn't coming home.
Life turned into a steady routine of learning. His lessons consisted of how to act at court, his histories, his number and letters, and martial training in the yard. He would be woken before the dawn and not be permitted to bed until the sun had slipped away and night had fallen. Recklessly bold, oft he would attempt to climb the exterior of the Hightower and be scolded for the act if discovered.
His first true test at arms came when in the form of pirates. They had made their home in a cove and would strike out at ships fat and ripe with goods. Gwayne rode out with a small band of men, headed up by his uncle, Owen. For a week they scoured the coastline looking for signs of their quarry, and eventually, one night, sky unclouded and stars bright, they saw the fires. Come the dawn the charge of the Reachmen sent the pirates srambling for their weapons, and though they put up a fight, they were cut down to a man and their ships burned. Of those that surrendered, they would hang at the port in Oldtown as a stark reminder. For his bravery Gwayne was given their Valyrian Steel sword, Vigilance, upon his return.
He would seek out his glory in the lists after that, travelling the length of the Seven Kingdoms looking to make his name as a knight. Tourney followed tourney, but at each stop he remembered to paya visit to the local Sept and offer prayer. He lent a hand where he could. Sometimes he found friends, sometimes he found foe.
When the Orphans of the Fire descended on the Reach, Gwayne wished to march out and chase them down, but Dorian refused him -- and as well he did, for the chaos wrought by the Orphans might have claimed him, and Dorian was adamant that he would not lose another heir to fire. The inaction rankled at Gwayne, but he heeded his grandfather's words all the same.
Now, in 25AC, with Dorian ailing and a celebration called, Gwayne travels toward the event and prepares himself for what may come.
Timeline: 5 BC - Birth of Gwayne Hightower
- Born as the firstborn son to Garlan Hightower in the Hightower.
- Anointed with the seven oils and named in a ceremony reserved for heirs, marking him as a defender of the Faith.
- Gwayne's brother is born, followed by two sisters, filling their grandfather's hall with children's laughter.
- Gwayne's father, Garlan, perishes in the Field of Fire.
- Gwayne, too young to fully understand, is immersed in intense learning by his grandfather, Dorian Hightower.
- Gwayne's routine includes court etiquette, history, numbers, letters, and martial training.
- Known for his reckless boldness, he often attempts to climb the exterior of the Hightower.
- Gwayne rides out with his uncle Owen and a small band of men to combat pirates.
- After a week, they locate and defeat the pirates, hanging the survivors in Oldtown.
- Gwayne is awarded the Valyrian Steel sword, Vigilance, for his bravery.
- Gwayne travels the Seven Kingdoms seeking glory in jousting tournaments.
- Pays visits to local Septs to offer prayers and help where needed, making friends and foes along the way.
- The Orphans of the Fire descend on the Reach.
- Gwayne wishes to march out but is restrained by Dorian, preventing potential harm.
- With Dorian ailing, Gwayne prepares for a celebration in King's Landing, aware of the responsibilities and challenges ahead.
2024.05.16 17:47 OnceInLifetime1 31 [M4F] Madrid/Online - Let's create our adventure together
I'm on the hunt for someone amazing who I can build a lasting and meaningful connection with. Looking for a partner who is not only down to earth and kind-hearted, but who is also hilarious, quirky, and full of life. Someone who is always smiling and looking at the positive side of things, even when life gets tough.
Share my passion for games (videogames and boardgames) and fantasy worlds, like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and A Song of Ice and Fire. Someone who's up for going on wild adventures to theme parks and exploring new destinations around the world.
I can't wait to spend time with someone who enjoys binge-watching a show or laughing together while watching TikToks (and maybe even making some of our own). A chatty person willing to stay all night talking.
The first message is always the hardest, so relax. Age, location, and a Hey! is enough, and we can go from there. Feel free to share some of your hobbies and favorite shows, too. Let's see if we have some common interests and go from there.
Overall, I'm so excited to meet my perfect match and embark on a journey. Full of laughs and adventures together. Let's create some unforgettable memories!
submitted by OnceInLifetime1 to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]
Share my passion for games (videogames and boardgames) and fantasy worlds, like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and A Song of Ice and Fire. Someone who's up for going on wild adventures to theme parks and exploring new destinations around the world.
I can't wait to spend time with someone who enjoys binge-watching a show or laughing together while watching TikToks (and maybe even making some of our own). A chatty person willing to stay all night talking.
The first message is always the hardest, so relax. Age, location, and a Hey! is enough, and we can go from there. Feel free to share some of your hobbies and favorite shows, too. Let's see if we have some common interests and go from there.
Overall, I'm so excited to meet my perfect match and embark on a journey. Full of laughs and adventures together. Let's create some unforgettable memories!
2024.05.16 17:47 OnceInLifetime1 31 [M4F] Madrid/Online - Let's Find Our Adventure Together: Seeking a Nerdy Partner in Crime
I'm on the hunt for someone amazing who I can build a lasting and meaningful connection with. Looking for a partner who is not only down to earth and kind-hearted, but who is also hilarious, quirky, and full of life. Someone who is always smiling and looking at the positive side of things, even when life gets tough.
Share my passion for games (videogames and boardgames) and fantasy worlds, like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and A Song of Ice and Fire. Someone who's up for going on wild adventures to theme parks and exploring new destinations around the world.
I can't wait to spend time with someone who enjoys binge-watching a show or laughing together while watching TikToks (and maybe even making some of our own). A chatty person willing to stay all night talking.
The first message is always the hardest, so relax. Age, location, and a Hey! is enough, and we can go from there. Feel free to share some of your hobbies and favorite shows, too. Let's see if we have some common interests and go from there.
Overall, I'm so excited to meet my perfect match and embark on a journey. Full of laughs and adventures together. Let's create some unforgettable memories!
submitted by OnceInLifetime1 to R4R30Plus [link] [comments]
Share my passion for games (videogames and boardgames) and fantasy worlds, like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and A Song of Ice and Fire. Someone who's up for going on wild adventures to theme parks and exploring new destinations around the world.
I can't wait to spend time with someone who enjoys binge-watching a show or laughing together while watching TikToks (and maybe even making some of our own). A chatty person willing to stay all night talking.
The first message is always the hardest, so relax. Age, location, and a Hey! is enough, and we can go from there. Feel free to share some of your hobbies and favorite shows, too. Let's see if we have some common interests and go from there.
Overall, I'm so excited to meet my perfect match and embark on a journey. Full of laughs and adventures together. Let's create some unforgettable memories!
2024.05.16 17:30 tunamutantninjaturtl [QCRIT] CRUEL MAGIC, Adult Fantasy, 90K + first 300 words
Hi!
I wrote this query in kind of a rush as I’m planning to submit it to Berkley’s open call which ends in … one day.
But the small press I’m publishing another book with has also expressed interest—and honestly, I am wondering whether certain things about this book would make it un-marketable for a Big 5 publisher (or any publisher at all), such as the age gap between the MC and the love interest (18 and 32) and the fact that it doesn’t seem to fit squarely into YA or Adult territory (the protagonist is 18 but there are very adult themes throughout, both main characters are morally gray, etc).
Or the fact that it’s using a theme that I’ve recently learned is quite cliché (assassin falling in love with her target).
Well anyway, please tell me what you think. Thanks!
_____
Dear Berkley,
Myn is part of the Rimena clan, a once-proud people who were banished from the kingdom nearly twenty years before. When Myn is eighteen years old, her great-aunt reveals a secret she’s been keeping from her her entire life: Myn was born with the “light,” the ability to do magic. Now that she is an adult, she can finally fulfill the mission her great-aunt has been planning for her for years: to train with, and eventually assassinate, the reclusive, terribly scarred magician named Crow. As a young teenager, Crow was responsible for killing most of her clan and driving the rest out, and Myn sees this mission as a chance to gain glory in the eyes of her people, as well as to avenge her parents.
When Myn arrives at Crow’s tower, she initially finds him to be a stern and unpleasant teacher. But as the weeks pass and he slowly opens up to her, telling her stories from his past, she starts to see him as more human. The late King used Crow as a tool—much as how Myn’s great-aunt wants to use her. Myn begins to doubt that she can go through with her mission to kill him.
One night, soldiers sent by a mysterious lord attack the tower and attempt to assassinate Crow. At this point, Crow and Myn find themselves caught up in a plot involving the throne. As they attempt to unravel these threads, they also begin to develop feelings for each other, and Myn realizes that by throwing away her mission, she risks betraying her entire family.
CRUEL MAGIC is complete at 90,000 words and can be described as UPROOTED meets TO KILL A KINGDOM.
Sincerely,
me
_____________
First 300 -
Most of Myn’s family had died long ago. Her mother and father were fragments lost in the past, smoke escaping through holes in her memory. She had only her aunts, her great-aunts, her cousins, and a few dozen other stragglers from the once-proud Rimena who now lay scattered like a handful of dirt over the rocky hills of Lorlas. Ever since they had been banished from the kingdom nearly twenty years ago, their history had grown mouthless. No legends, no stories. At least not any stories that they could be proud of. Their nomadic hunter’s lifestyle was no longer a revered tradition, no longer something to be honored, but rather the mark of a people who were always a few steps away from starvation.
Growing up, Myn knew little of what lay beyond the river that separated Lorlas—the area known to the kingdom as the Wild Lands—from the kingdom of Xianthe. All she knew was that when the wind blew from the south, the air brought with it a charred, acrid scent, like the remnants of a cook-fire, mixed with something sharp and silvery. A clear, ringing scent. The way the stars might smell, if they were close enough.
One day, when Myn was little, and the wind was blowing from the south: “That’s Crow’s scent,” her aunt Lila said, wrinkling her nose. But Lila did not turn from the wind. She let it gust through her hair, lifting the greasy strands like the touch of a lover, and when she narrowed her eyes, Myn thought she saw tears in them.
Myn was so young then that she came to believe there was an enormous bird living beyond the river. For months she went to sleep thinking of it and woke still half-dreaming, with the rustle of wings at the back of her mind.
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I wrote this query in kind of a rush as I’m planning to submit it to Berkley’s open call which ends in … one day.
But the small press I’m publishing another book with has also expressed interest—and honestly, I am wondering whether certain things about this book would make it un-marketable for a Big 5 publisher (or any publisher at all), such as the age gap between the MC and the love interest (18 and 32) and the fact that it doesn’t seem to fit squarely into YA or Adult territory (the protagonist is 18 but there are very adult themes throughout, both main characters are morally gray, etc).
Or the fact that it’s using a theme that I’ve recently learned is quite cliché (assassin falling in love with her target).
Well anyway, please tell me what you think. Thanks!
_____
Dear Berkley,
Myn is part of the Rimena clan, a once-proud people who were banished from the kingdom nearly twenty years before. When Myn is eighteen years old, her great-aunt reveals a secret she’s been keeping from her her entire life: Myn was born with the “light,” the ability to do magic. Now that she is an adult, she can finally fulfill the mission her great-aunt has been planning for her for years: to train with, and eventually assassinate, the reclusive, terribly scarred magician named Crow. As a young teenager, Crow was responsible for killing most of her clan and driving the rest out, and Myn sees this mission as a chance to gain glory in the eyes of her people, as well as to avenge her parents.
When Myn arrives at Crow’s tower, she initially finds him to be a stern and unpleasant teacher. But as the weeks pass and he slowly opens up to her, telling her stories from his past, she starts to see him as more human. The late King used Crow as a tool—much as how Myn’s great-aunt wants to use her. Myn begins to doubt that she can go through with her mission to kill him.
One night, soldiers sent by a mysterious lord attack the tower and attempt to assassinate Crow. At this point, Crow and Myn find themselves caught up in a plot involving the throne. As they attempt to unravel these threads, they also begin to develop feelings for each other, and Myn realizes that by throwing away her mission, she risks betraying her entire family.
CRUEL MAGIC is complete at 90,000 words and can be described as UPROOTED meets TO KILL A KINGDOM.
Sincerely,
me
_____________
First 300 -
Most of Myn’s family had died long ago. Her mother and father were fragments lost in the past, smoke escaping through holes in her memory. She had only her aunts, her great-aunts, her cousins, and a few dozen other stragglers from the once-proud Rimena who now lay scattered like a handful of dirt over the rocky hills of Lorlas. Ever since they had been banished from the kingdom nearly twenty years ago, their history had grown mouthless. No legends, no stories. At least not any stories that they could be proud of. Their nomadic hunter’s lifestyle was no longer a revered tradition, no longer something to be honored, but rather the mark of a people who were always a few steps away from starvation.
Growing up, Myn knew little of what lay beyond the river that separated Lorlas—the area known to the kingdom as the Wild Lands—from the kingdom of Xianthe. All she knew was that when the wind blew from the south, the air brought with it a charred, acrid scent, like the remnants of a cook-fire, mixed with something sharp and silvery. A clear, ringing scent. The way the stars might smell, if they were close enough.
One day, when Myn was little, and the wind was blowing from the south: “That’s Crow’s scent,” her aunt Lila said, wrinkling her nose. But Lila did not turn from the wind. She let it gust through her hair, lifting the greasy strands like the touch of a lover, and when she narrowed her eyes, Myn thought she saw tears in them.
Myn was so young then that she came to believe there was an enormous bird living beyond the river. For months she went to sleep thinking of it and woke still half-dreaming, with the rustle of wings at the back of her mind.
2024.05.16 17:22 haygurlhay123 “This Time, I Will Never Let You Go”: Cloud’s Mission and the Hidden Purpose of the Remake Trilogy - Literary and Musical Analysis of FFVII - Part 6
(continuation of part 5)
Post-OG Cloud ruminates on what he could have done to save Aerith. Had he not been so lost in his own mind —distracted by Sephiroth and Jenova, consumed by his need to fulfill the emptiness at the core of his identity—, would he have paid more attention to Aerith’s sadness and anticipated her plan to go to the Forgotten Capital alone? Could she have survived if not for his obsession with what tormented him at the time? Could he have figured it out and kept her by his side? He’s angry with himself in retrospect, drowning in guilt, just like in Advent Children.
Here are the choruses, which usually contain the thesis main message of a song:
VI. e) ii. “No Promises to Keep” Lyrics
This is quite obvious. Aerith is resigned to her fate, but still harbors hope that she will meet Cloud again in a permanent reunion:
The last point I want to hit on is the concept of reunion. In OG, this theme was pretty much dominated by the Jenova Reunion. To an OG fan back in 1997, “reunion” meant “Sephiroth and Jenova’s evil plan”. However, in the Remake trilogy, the theme is expanded into something more. The first time Cloud meets Aerith in Remake, she gives him a flower and tells him something she didn’t in OG:
Many moments exclusive to the Remake trilogy serve the same purpose: linking the theme of reunion to Aerith. This expansion of the theme is highly significant. Our theory is that the Remake trilogy exists to reunite Cloud and Aerith, so the fact that the trilogy would implement so many Clerith-centric references to reunion is great support for our theory.
VI. g) i. The Leslie-Cloud Parallel
Let’s consider another instance involving the reunion flower in Remake, more precisely, the chapter 14 subplot surrounding Leslie’s lost lover. In case you need a refresher, Leslie is one of Corneo’s lackeys, although he secretly plans to betray him. He once had a fiancée and things were looking up until she was selected as one of Corneo’s brides. The day before she disappeared (presumably taken by Corneo), his fiancée broke up with him with no explanation. It was confusing and left Leslie perplex. As she broke up with him, she returned a necklace to him, one with a flower pendant. Of course, that flower is the very same reunion flower Aerith gives Cloud in chapter 2.
Evidently, Leslie and Cloud are going through parallel situations. At this point in time, Aerith was just kidnapped by Shinra, and Cloud is on his way to get her back. Both their loved ones have been taken by tyrant rulers, one being slumlord Corneo and the other being the Shinra government. In fact, even Leslie and Cloud’s attitudes share similar disillusioned, cold and stoic qualities. Leslie’s fiancée would evidently be paralleled by Aerith.
The most obvious proof of the Leslie-Cloud parallel is written plainly on the list of Remake’s chapter 14 main scenario objectives. Objective 7, called “For the Reunion”, consists of receiving the grappling guns needed to reach topside and save Aerith. The description of the objective reads as follows:
All this is simple and apparent enough. Just the fact that the theme of reunion is linked to Clerith in this way is proof enough, but there’s another layer to the Leslie-Cloud parallel. Not only does Leslie’s situation reinforce the concept of a Clerith reunion, it also mirrors the specifics of our theory: namely that Cloud will save Aerith from specifically Sephiroth (represented in Leslie’s scenario by Corneo) and that Cloud will take the initiative to accomplish this reunion. These two specific aspects of our theory are reflected by Leslie’s circumstances, meaning the Leslie-Cloud parallel not only pushes the theme of reunion, but also supports our specific theory.
VI. g) i. 1) The Separators: Corneo and Sephiroth
I’ll first prove that Leslie’s scenario is not meant to echo Cloud’s separation from Aerith at the hands of Shinra —or at least not exclusively—, but rather Cloud’s separation from Aerith at the hands of Sephiroth. Corneo would therefore be paralleled by Sephiroth rather than the tyrannical Shinra government.
The first piece of proof for the Corneo-Seohiroth parallel lies within the way in which Leslie’s fiancée broke things off: by lying. Aerith also lies to Cloud to create distance between them, but not pertaining to her kidnapping— rather, pertaining to her fated death. Since Sephiroth is Aerith’s killer and not Shinra, Corneo’s role in the Leslie-Cloud parallel is analogous to Sephiroth’s rather than Shinra’s.
There are two pieces of evidence that the Corneo-Sephiroth comparison makes more sense than the Corneo-Shinra one. The first lies in the fact that Leslie’s breakup resembles Cloud’s resolution scene: the topic of Cloud’s resolution scene is Aerith’s fate at the hands of Sephiroth rather than her kidnapping by Shinra, meaning Corneo and Sephiroth are the antagonists of both heartbreaks.
Let’s examine Leslie’s breakup. Here is how his fiancée broke things off, taken from the English script of Remake’s chapter 14, with tone indicators added by me in bold:
If you’re finding this familiar, then you might be ahead of me. Let’s take a look at what Aerith says to Cloud in his resolution scene, also in the English script of Remake’s chapter 14, with tone indicators added by me in bold:
In both cases, the women know something about their fate that the men don’t and are hiding this impending tragedy from them. Just like Leslie’s fiancée, Aerith uses well-intentioned deception to protect her loved one from the pain that will come from her fate— the lie, of course, is that their love isn’t real. Both women are hopeless, and both men are initially clueless. Aerith’s resolution can’t be about her kidnapping, because Aerith thinks her rescue is anything but hopeless— she’s sure Cloud will come save her from Shinra. She says so herself in OG’s disk 1, chapter 8:
The second piece of evidence supporting my belief that Corneo mirrors Sephiroth and not Shinra in the Leslie-Cloud parallel is the inclusion of the theme of revenge that crops up in the following piece of dialogue:
Additionally, it looks like Leslie’s obsession with revenge as a means to closure is the reason he didn’t bother trying to understand the message his fiancée left him with: he’s focused on his hate rather than his love, and it’s hindering him. He doesn’t succeed in killing Corneo either: his focus and energy are misplaced. Cloud’s desire for vengeance against Sephiroth is also depicted as an obstacle to accomplishing his goals (see how in section “III. c)” of my previous literary analysis). Once more, the Corneo-Sephiroth parallel fits far better than a Corneo-Shinra perspective.
VI. g) i. 2) The Reunion Seekers: Leslie and Cloud
The other aspect of the Leslie-Cloud parallel that supports our theory is that in both scenarios, they both take charge of the situation and decide to actively seek reunion with their respective lovers. The following dialogue excerpt, supplemented by the VA script notes, shows Leslie’s initiative:
VI. g) i. 3) Delayed Realizations
Interestingly, not only does Leslie’s determination mirror Cloud’s, but both men are depicted as realizing the truth too late. Just like Leslie only began searching for his fiancée six months after her disappearance, Cloud only realizes he loves Aerith in OG once she’s died. It took him this long to actually get somewhere in his mission to reunite with her— “somewhere” being the Remake trilogy.
Even Barret’s words highlight the lovers’ delay: “Can never be sure how much someone means to ya till they're gone”. Barret would know: he lost his wife Myrna, whom he loved dearly. The devs have Barret comment on the situation as a man whose lover died, mirroring Cloud’s situation in OG. Just as Barret says, Cloud only truly realized the strength of how he felt for Aerith in OG once she was gone. The gunman’s words apply to both Leslie and Cloud’s tardy initiatives. Regardless of this delay, both men are now determined to see their respective reunions through.
The degree to which the Leslie-Cloud parallel fits our theory is a great sign of its validity: even the details are lining up!
VI. g) ii. Reunion in the Theme Songs
Too easy: in our analysis of the lyrics of the theme songs, we covered how both texts include the theme of reunion. “No Promises to Keep” is especially relevant (see section “VI. e) ii.”), as the entire song is Aerith hoping against fate for a reunion with Cloud (even if you believe the song is about all her companions, that still includes Cloud).
On top of these reunion-themed lyrics, during Aerith’s in-game performance of “No Promises to Keep” at the Gold Saucer production of Loveless, her yellow blossoms signifying reunion bloom all around her as Cloud watches her, captivated.
Another great sign for our theory: the highly significant theme songs are on our side!
VI. g) iii. Waking Up Reunited
The thing I want to juxtapose to our theory is a small yet special moment in chapter 2 of Rebirth that stuck out to me like a sore thumb and got me really excited about sharing it with you. This moment occurs after the battle against the Midgardsormr. We’ll be comparing it to two other clips, describing all three in chronological order, and making deductions based on their similarities.
The first clip I want to address occurs in chapter 8 of Remake (1:32-2:12). There are a couple of things I want to point out in this scene. First, Aerith wakes Cloud from unconsciousness with a cute call of “Hello~?”. Second, despite pretending that he doesn’t, he immediately recognizes her. The VA script notes prove it:
Now onto the Rebirth chapter 2 scene that stuck out to me. After Cloud is saved from the Midgardsormr by Sephiroth, Cloud wakes from an unconsciousness spell with Aerith calling for him (7:20-7:34).
Once more, Aerith wakes him with a cute call (this time, it’s “Wakey, wakey!”), and Cloud recognizes her. In this Midgardsormr clip, unlike their reunion in the church, Cloud verbalizes that he remembers her. This time, there’s more: next, Aerith tells Cloud “おかえり, クラウド”, or “okaeri, Cloud”, which translates to “welcome back, Cloud”. “Okaeri” is what you say in Japanese when someone has returned home. In the third clip we will analyze, Aerith says “okaeri” to Cloud once more. But first, let’s break down this second clip.
I don’t know about you, but this cutscene felt extremely weird to me when I first encountered it. That is, it would have been, if not for the theory I’d begun formulating at that time.
You see, the devs could have chosen for Aerith to ask Cloud if he remembers his own name or where they are, if he’s okay, or check if he responds to his own name. In fact, asking someone who’s been hit on the head to say their own name is a much more common reaction to them finally waking up than asking them if they remember you. Even stranger is Cloud’s reaction: he could have answered “Yeah, you’re Aerith,” or “I remember everything, I’m fine”. Instead, he says her name with this airy and wonderstruck tone. He sounds like he’s opening his eyes to something mystic rather than his comrade leaning over him, like he’s seeing someone unexpectedly for the first time in a while… or rather like he’s waking from a trance of some kind— a trance in which he did not remember Aerith, and now he does. You may see where I’m going with this.
Let’s examine the third clip, wherein Aerith tells Cloud “okaeri” again. More specifically, in chapter 14, Aerith welcomes Cloud back when he snaps out of his zombified, Sephiroth-controlled state and runs toward her. Of course, it’s the sight of her and his memories of meeting her in chapter 2 of Remake that shake him awake (2:17:43-2:18:02).
For a third time, Aerith wakes Cloud. This time, she’s pulling him out of a trance and back to himself. And for a third time, Cloud remembers her. In fact, it’s remembering her that wakes him up. Cloud calls her name and Aerith says “okaeri” in both the post-Midgardsormr cutscene and this third clip. And in both scenes, not only does Cloud return to himself the way someone returns home (recall that “okaeri” is used to welcome someone back home), but he’s also returning to her, recognizing her as his home.
Now we’ve got three scenes lined up: the church reunion scene (both in OG and Remake), the Midgardsormr scene and the hand-reach scene. All three of these recognition scenes feature Cloud being woken up by Aerith and remembering who she is. The main difference is that, in the scenes among these three that are exclusive to Rebirth, Cloud’s return to Aerith is far more meaningful, as he already knows her name, and knows more about who she is to him. Evidently, in the OG church reunion scene, Cloud only remembers being sold a flower by this girl. In the Remake version, he remembers the same thing, plus the attack of the whispers. So there’s something much more weighty about the Rebirth recognition scenes: he remembers more, and he remembers deeper. These aren’t just recognition scenes, they’re also mini-reunions. Of course, as we’ve already analyzed pertaining to the hand-reaching scene, Cloud remembering Aerith is followed by him being the one to take action and run toward her, eager to save her, because she means the world to him. When you place the Midgardsormr scene between the church reunion scene and the hand-reach scene, an evolution of Cloud waking up and remembering Aerith is formed. Each mini-reunion scene adds a piece to the story: the church scene informs us that Cloud and Aerith are meeting again, the Midgardsormr scene tips us off that something mystic is going on from Cloud’s tone when he says Aerith’s name, and the hand reach scene tells us that as a consequence of remembering who Aerith is, Cloud saves her from falling to her death and saving her. “Meeting again”, “mystic”, and “saving Aerith”: these are the keywords of the mini-reunion scenes. They are also the keywords of our theory on Cloud’s mission to save Aerith. This time around Cloud knows more and is more conscious about how he feels for Aerith, just like he feels more when in the hand-reach scene in Rebirth compared to the church reunion scene in Remake. From the latter scene to the former, Cloud gradually wakes up and remembers his love for and loss of Aerith in the OG more and more. Each mini-reunion brings him closer to saving her when he blocks the masamune. This is why I am certain that in part 3, whether Cloud comes to his full senses or not, whether he remembers the events of OG or not, he will save Aerith this time. The Remake trilogy is centered around Aerith, after all. In fact, don’t take it from me, take it from Nojima:
VI. h) Zooming In
In fact, this zooming-in method of directing players’ attention to important narrative beats is far from new.
VI. h) i. Changing Fate
Let’s divert our attention to Nanaki’s Skywheel date (2:28-3:30). The dialogue goes like this: Nanaki brings us the Whispers and suggests the party might eventually forget about their existence, and Cloud says that frankly, if it’s impossible for them to change fate either way, then it would be better for them to forget to Whispers altogether.
This is a very clear message from the devs: “There would be no point in including the Whispers in the Remaketrilogy if we did not make use of their defeat”. They’re telling us through Cloud’s dialogue that they know it would be foul play and bad writing to introduce the theme of defying fate if it didn’t eventually pay off.
As if it weren’t clear enough what the devs are referring to, Nanaki brings up Aerith’s death directly after Cloud delivers the devs’ message to us. He actually makes Cloud promise to save her. This is pretty on the nose. By promising Nanaki he will protect Aerith, the devs are promising us the same. I’m certain that part 3 will deliver on this promise.
If you still aren’t sold, I’d like to direct your attention to the framing of the shot where Cloud says “If we can’t change [fate]” (2:49-2:51). There’s a zoom-in on his mouth, which is a visual cue that translates to “what this character is saying right now is important to the plot”. It’s very indiscreet in theory: the camera literally hones in on the invisible words as though the script has them highlighted, italicized triple-underlined and in bold.
VI. h) ii. Aerith’s Knowledge
We’ve seen the Remake trilogy use this camera framing at least twice so far. The first time occurs in Remake’s chapter 8, before it becomes clear that Aerith knows things from the OG game that she wouldn’t normally know if this were just a remastered version of the same 1997 plot. I’ll let Remake Ultimania‘s description of this moment speak for itself:
The framing of this shot indicates to us that what Aerith says provides an important hint as to the plot’s direction. Sure enough, with hindsight, it’s easy to see that’s true.
VI. h) iii. Tifa’s Question
Another time this framing is used is in chapter 1 of Rebirth, after Cloud recounts the Nibelheim incident. Tifa asks the group why Sephiroth is choosing to come back now, after five years (37:55-37:58).
Once more, we are being signaled that the reason Sephiroth chose to return at the moment he did is significant to the plot, but cannot be revealed explicitly yet. The reason why Sephiroth took five years to return is because that’s how long it took for Cloud to get back on his feet after the Nibelheim incident: Sephiroth wants and/or needs to manipulate Cloud in particular rather than all the other people with Jenova cells in them. It took five years for Cloud to not only go through Hojo’s experiments but also escape Shinra and make his way to Seventh Heaven, where Tifa nursed him back to health— therefore, it took five years until Sephiroth’s favorite pawn was available to be used. There are a few reasons why Cloud is the one Sephiroth wants to use, and all of them would be spoilers at this point in Rebirth to players who don’t know the OG plot. The devs can’t reveal any of them yet, but they do indicate via a close-up shot of Tifa’s mouth that her question is important.
VI. h) iv. The Takeaway
As you can see, this framing of characters’ mouths when they speak signals a plot-significant piece of dialogue. This means Cloud’s words on his gondola date with Nanaki can’t be brushed off as a red herring or an unimportant or throwaway line: it has narrative weight.
VII. a) Shifting Themes
Good storytellers don’t introduce themes as a way to pull the rug from under audiences’ feet by later rendering them completely irrelevant to the plot.
In other words, the devs would not have introduced the notion of fate as an antagonistic force in Remake, nor allowed the players to defeat it in chapter 18, had they planned for these themes not to pay off at all. Think of how good FFVII OG and FF stories in general are, how strong the writing is from a narrative point of view. Nothing is included for no reason or for a cheap reaction— especially not a central theme of a story. Fate and defeating it is a huge point of Remake, and not for no reason.
I mean, think about a storyline all about defying fate ending with a shrug and a “Oh well, we tried.” It would be ridiculous! The devs are better than that.
VII. b) What the Devs Want
The devs are well aware that fans of FFVII have been begging for Aerith’s resurrection since 1997. All those petitions, all those myths of a revival hack… SE knows about them all too well. They were even referenced by FF’s 30th anniversary expo, which partly promoted Remake:
The devs know how well-loved both Clerith and Aerith are. And in fact, they love Aerith at least as much as we do:
I think a lot of people have it in their heads that the devs don’t want anything to change from the OG story, but there’s a lot of evidence that says otherwise. Codirector Toriyama spoke on this, stating the following about the production process of Remake:
(conclusion in
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Post-OG Cloud ruminates on what he could have done to save Aerith. Had he not been so lost in his own mind —distracted by Sephiroth and Jenova, consumed by his need to fulfill the emptiness at the core of his identity—, would he have paid more attention to Aerith’s sadness and anticipated her plan to go to the Forgotten Capital alone? Could she have survived if not for his obsession with what tormented him at the time? Could he have figured it out and kept her by his side? He’s angry with himself in retrospect, drowning in guilt, just like in Advent Children.
Here are the choruses, which usually contain the thesis main message of a song:
“Shine bright once more&
Guide me to you
Smile bright once more
This time I will never let you go”
“Hear me once moreIn these choruses, Cloud asserts that he will get it right this time (“this time” referring to the second chance that is the Remake trilogy). He will make sure he saves Aerith and never lets her go. He knows she’s gone, but he will fight against time to get her back. He longs for her smile and her light again, and he cannot bear the guilt: so he doesn’t. Post-OG Cloud embarks on a new adventure: ”I want to go to a place where everything is new,” said Cloud to Wol and Echo in Eclipse Contact before facing his past and being launched into Remake. “Hollow” makes far more sense now, doesn’t it? It’s a song not only about Cloud’s loss, but also about his determination to save Aerith this time. Given that it’s the theme song of Remake, the fact that “Hollow” fits with our theory perfectly is a very good sign: a theme song is meant to reflect the main plot of a story, indicating as our theory states that Remake is principally, albeit secretly, about Cloud saving Aerith. Because of this hope being set up, I’m confident that they will be together in the end, reunited for good. My dear Clerith friends, this is the hidden purpose of the Remake trilogy. Cloud and Aerith will be reunited.
Show me your smile
This time for sure
I'll see the truth hidden inside your tears
But I, I know
That you're long gone
But I, I will
Go on, howling and hollow”
VI. e) ii. “No Promises to Keep” Lyrics
This is quite obvious. Aerith is resigned to her fate, but still harbors hope that she will meet Cloud again in a permanent reunion:
“Till the day that we meet againVI. f) The Theme of Reunion Explained?
Where or when?
I wish I could say
But believe, know that you'll find me
[…]
Till the day that we meet again
On our street, I want to believe
[…]
Till the day that we meet again
At our place, just let me believe
In the chance that you'll come
Take my hand and never let me go
Take my hand
And believe
We can be
Together evermore
[…]
Still I hope someday you'll come and find me
Still I know someday you'll come and find me”.
The last point I want to hit on is the concept of reunion. In OG, this theme was pretty much dominated by the Jenova Reunion. To an OG fan back in 1997, “reunion” meant “Sephiroth and Jenova’s evil plan”. However, in the Remake trilogy, the theme is expanded into something more. The first time Cloud meets Aerith in Remake, she gives him a flower and tells him something she didn’t in OG:
“Lovers used to give these when they were reunited...”In addition, we’ve already talked about how part 5 of “Aerith’s Theme - The Cetra” from the Remake OST tells the story of Cloud and Aerith’s reunion (see section “V. b) ii. 2)”).
Many moments exclusive to the Remake trilogy serve the same purpose: linking the theme of reunion to Aerith. This expansion of the theme is highly significant. Our theory is that the Remake trilogy exists to reunite Cloud and Aerith, so the fact that the trilogy would implement so many Clerith-centric references to reunion is great support for our theory.
VI. g) i. The Leslie-Cloud Parallel
Let’s consider another instance involving the reunion flower in Remake, more precisely, the chapter 14 subplot surrounding Leslie’s lost lover. In case you need a refresher, Leslie is one of Corneo’s lackeys, although he secretly plans to betray him. He once had a fiancée and things were looking up until she was selected as one of Corneo’s brides. The day before she disappeared (presumably taken by Corneo), his fiancée broke up with him with no explanation. It was confusing and left Leslie perplex. As she broke up with him, she returned a necklace to him, one with a flower pendant. Of course, that flower is the very same reunion flower Aerith gives Cloud in chapter 2.
Evidently, Leslie and Cloud are going through parallel situations. At this point in time, Aerith was just kidnapped by Shinra, and Cloud is on his way to get her back. Both their loved ones have been taken by tyrant rulers, one being slumlord Corneo and the other being the Shinra government. In fact, even Leslie and Cloud’s attitudes share similar disillusioned, cold and stoic qualities. Leslie’s fiancée would evidently be paralleled by Aerith.
The most obvious proof of the Leslie-Cloud parallel is written plainly on the list of Remake’s chapter 14 main scenario objectives. Objective 7, called “For the Reunion”, consists of receiving the grappling guns needed to reach topside and save Aerith. The description of the objective reads as follows:
“Leslie gives them grappling guns, and they wish each other luck in reuniting with their respective loved ones. Leslie walks off, and the three prepare to climb the wall.”The grappling guns are “For the Reunion”, because evidently, the loved one Cloud wants to reunite with is Aerith.
All this is simple and apparent enough. Just the fact that the theme of reunion is linked to Clerith in this way is proof enough, but there’s another layer to the Leslie-Cloud parallel. Not only does Leslie’s situation reinforce the concept of a Clerith reunion, it also mirrors the specifics of our theory: namely that Cloud will save Aerith from specifically Sephiroth (represented in Leslie’s scenario by Corneo) and that Cloud will take the initiative to accomplish this reunion. These two specific aspects of our theory are reflected by Leslie’s circumstances, meaning the Leslie-Cloud parallel not only pushes the theme of reunion, but also supports our specific theory.
VI. g) i. 1) The Separators: Corneo and Sephiroth
I’ll first prove that Leslie’s scenario is not meant to echo Cloud’s separation from Aerith at the hands of Shinra —or at least not exclusively—, but rather Cloud’s separation from Aerith at the hands of Sephiroth. Corneo would therefore be paralleled by Sephiroth rather than the tyrannical Shinra government.
The first piece of proof for the Corneo-Seohiroth parallel lies within the way in which Leslie’s fiancée broke things off: by lying. Aerith also lies to Cloud to create distance between them, but not pertaining to her kidnapping— rather, pertaining to her fated death. Since Sephiroth is Aerith’s killer and not Shinra, Corneo’s role in the Leslie-Cloud parallel is analogous to Sephiroth’s rather than Shinra’s.
There are two pieces of evidence that the Corneo-Sephiroth comparison makes more sense than the Corneo-Shinra one. The first lies in the fact that Leslie’s breakup resembles Cloud’s resolution scene: the topic of Cloud’s resolution scene is Aerith’s fate at the hands of Sephiroth rather than her kidnapping by Shinra, meaning Corneo and Sephiroth are the antagonists of both heartbreaks.
Let’s examine Leslie’s breakup. Here is how his fiancée broke things off, taken from the English script of Remake’s chapter 14, with tone indicators added by me in bold:
“Fiancée: It was all just a dream, wasn't it[?]Now, here is a more literal translation of this quote from the original Japanese (verified by me via DeepL), with tone indicators added by me in bold:
Fiancée: (Hopefully) But one day…
(She trails off, then shakes her head and stops herself.)
Fiancée: (Sadly, hopelessly) — no. Time to wake up. And forget.
(She walks away.)”
“Fiancée: It was only just a dream we had / We were only dreaming...Leslie’s fiancée is clearly breaking up with him to spare him the pain of blaming himself for not being able to protect her from Corneo, as she knows it’s too late for her to escape from the slumlord’s clutches. We know this because we understand that the pendant she gave back to him symbolizes a reunion (especially between lovers, as Aerith told Cloud in chapter 2). In fact, the Japanese version of the script reveals that the fiancée was about to reveal the meaning of the flower, perhaps in the hopes that they would find each other once more, but she lost her nerve at the last second. Notice that she tells Leslie two specific things. One: their love or their future together was only a dream, meaning that it wasn’t real. Two: he should forget about her, because the dream is over now and it’s time to wake up from it.
Fiancée: (Hopefully, as though as a hail Mary) In the language of the flowers...
(She trails off, then shakes her head and stops herself.)
Fiancée: (Sadly, hopelessly) — no. You should forget about me.
(She walks away.)”
If you’re finding this familiar, then you might be ahead of me. Let’s take a look at what Aerith says to Cloud in his resolution scene, also in the English script of Remake’s chapter 14, with tone indicators added by me in bold:
“Aerith: […] you can’t fall in love with me. [It]’s not real […]. (With a sigh, as though from sadness or difficulty, but resolutely) It’s almost morning. Time to go.”Now, here is a more literal translation of this quote from the original Japanese (verified by me via DeepL), with tone indicators added by me in bold:
“Aerith: You can’t let yourself fall in love with me. [It]’s only your imagination […]. (With a sigh, as though from sadness or difficulty, but resolutely) Looks like it’s already morning. Time for me to go.”Just like Leslie’s fiancée, Aerith is rejecting or denying Cloud’s love for her in order to spare him from the pain of not having been able to be with her before her death, as she believes it is inevitable. Just like the fiancée, Aerith also tells Cloud two things. One: their love is imaginary or isn’t real. Two: it’s morning, and she has to go (she says this right before Cloud wakes from the pseudo-dream).
In both cases, the women know something about their fate that the men don’t and are hiding this impending tragedy from them. Just like Leslie’s fiancée, Aerith uses well-intentioned deception to protect her loved one from the pain that will come from her fate— the lie, of course, is that their love isn’t real. Both women are hopeless, and both men are initially clueless. Aerith’s resolution can’t be about her kidnapping, because Aerith thinks her rescue is anything but hopeless— she’s sure Cloud will come save her from Shinra. She says so herself in OG’s disk 1, chapter 8:
“Cloud: Aeris!? You safe?What Aerith is so resigned about in Cloud’s resolution scene isn’t her kidnapping, but instead her fated death at the hands of Sephiroth. Nojima hints at this in FFVII Remake Ultimania:
Aeris: Yeah, I'm all right. I knew that [you] would come for me.”
“If you know Aerith’s fate, then this line would really pull at your heart strings […]” (section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 744).Here is what codirector Toriyama had to say on Aerith’s words:
“[While] these words are intended for Cloud, I think Aerith is partly speaking them to herself. The contents of her request may be at odds with how she truly feels inside” (FFVII Remake Material Ultimania Plus, VA Script Notes, “A Dream Shown by Aerith”, “Scenario Staff Q&A - Answered by Motomu Toriyama”).These two quotes by the devs show that Aerith is trying to protect Cloud from her death. Therefore, the Corneo-Sephiroth parallel is far more apt than the Corneo-Shinra parallel.
The second piece of evidence supporting my belief that Corneo mirrors Sephiroth and not Shinra in the Leslie-Cloud parallel is the inclusion of the theme of revenge that crops up in the following piece of dialogue:
“Tifa: Why did you wanna come down here?Leslie’s sentiment toward Corneo resembles Cloud’s feelings toward Sephiroth after Aerith’s death. Revenge links Cloud to Sephiroth, not to Shinra. Corneo and Sephiroth reflect each other in that, as a consequence of their actions toward a woman, the man who loves her desires revenge.
Leslie: Revenge. I know I need to let go, but I can't. I need closure, 'cause without it... I'll never be able to move on” (Remake, chapter 14).
Additionally, it looks like Leslie’s obsession with revenge as a means to closure is the reason he didn’t bother trying to understand the message his fiancée left him with: he’s focused on his hate rather than his love, and it’s hindering him. He doesn’t succeed in killing Corneo either: his focus and energy are misplaced. Cloud’s desire for vengeance against Sephiroth is also depicted as an obstacle to accomplishing his goals (see how in section “III. c)” of my previous literary analysis). Once more, the Corneo-Sephiroth parallel fits far better than a Corneo-Shinra perspective.
VI. g) i. 2) The Reunion Seekers: Leslie and Cloud
The other aspect of the Leslie-Cloud parallel that supports our theory is that in both scenarios, they both take charge of the situation and decide to actively seek reunion with their respective lovers. The following dialogue excerpt, supplemented by the VA script notes, shows Leslie’s initiative:
“Tifa: [Your fiancée] could still be out there.Take note of Leslie’s final response and the determination with which he speaks: “Then I guess I’ll just have to find her first”. Remember that we’re searching for evidence that Cloud is going to be the one reaching out to Aerith in the Remake trilogy, and that it’s his turn to take his future into his hands. He must be more attentive, more active this time. And Leslie’s words of determination reflect this perfectly. Leslie must find his fiancée first, just like Cloud has to be the one to offer his hand to Aerith in the Remake trilogy and fight for her. This is exactly what our theory is all about.
Barret: Can never be sure how much someone means to ya till they're gone. Don't give up on her yet.
Leslie: (Looks at the flower pendant, [recalling his lover’s words) A message in the language of flowers… I wonder what she meant by it.
[…]
Tifa: Reunion.
Leslie: Huh?
Tifa: In the language of flowers, it means ‘reunion.’
(Leslie shifts his gaze from Tifa to the pendant and stares at it for some time. At last he understands the words his lover left him. With that, as if his mind has been made up, he clutches the pendant and hangs it around his neck.)
Leslie: Then I guess I’ll just have to find her first” (FFVII Remake Material Ultimania Plus, VA Script Notes, “Other Notable Stage Directions - Chapters 14-16”).
VI. g) i. 3) Delayed Realizations
Interestingly, not only does Leslie’s determination mirror Cloud’s, but both men are depicted as realizing the truth too late. Just like Leslie only began searching for his fiancée six months after her disappearance, Cloud only realizes he loves Aerith in OG once she’s died. It took him this long to actually get somewhere in his mission to reunite with her— “somewhere” being the Remake trilogy.
Even Barret’s words highlight the lovers’ delay: “Can never be sure how much someone means to ya till they're gone”. Barret would know: he lost his wife Myrna, whom he loved dearly. The devs have Barret comment on the situation as a man whose lover died, mirroring Cloud’s situation in OG. Just as Barret says, Cloud only truly realized the strength of how he felt for Aerith in OG once she was gone. The gunman’s words apply to both Leslie and Cloud’s tardy initiatives. Regardless of this delay, both men are now determined to see their respective reunions through.
The degree to which the Leslie-Cloud parallel fits our theory is a great sign of its validity: even the details are lining up!
VI. g) ii. Reunion in the Theme Songs
Too easy: in our analysis of the lyrics of the theme songs, we covered how both texts include the theme of reunion. “No Promises to Keep” is especially relevant (see section “VI. e) ii.”), as the entire song is Aerith hoping against fate for a reunion with Cloud (even if you believe the song is about all her companions, that still includes Cloud).
On top of these reunion-themed lyrics, during Aerith’s in-game performance of “No Promises to Keep” at the Gold Saucer production of Loveless, her yellow blossoms signifying reunion bloom all around her as Cloud watches her, captivated.
Another great sign for our theory: the highly significant theme songs are on our side!
VI. g) iii. Waking Up Reunited
The thing I want to juxtapose to our theory is a small yet special moment in chapter 2 of Rebirth that stuck out to me like a sore thumb and got me really excited about sharing it with you. This moment occurs after the battle against the Midgardsormr. We’ll be comparing it to two other clips, describing all three in chronological order, and making deductions based on their similarities.
The first clip I want to address occurs in chapter 8 of Remake (1:32-2:12). There are a couple of things I want to point out in this scene. First, Aerith wakes Cloud from unconsciousness with a cute call of “Hello~?”. Second, despite pretending that he doesn’t, he immediately recognizes her. The VA script notes prove it:
“Aerith: Nice to meet you again.So: she wakes him with a cute call, and he recognizes her. Also note that these two elements also apply to the OG church reunion scene.
Cloud actually remembers Aerith, but he pretends not to, perhaps wishing to make himself look cool.
Cloud: Again, huh?
Aerith: What? You don’t remember? How about…the flowers?
Cloud looks at the flowers at his feet and pretends as if he’s only just remembered.
Cloud: Oh, the flower seller” (FFVII Remake Material Ultimania Plus, VA script notes, “Reuniting with Aerith”).
Now onto the Rebirth chapter 2 scene that stuck out to me. After Cloud is saved from the Midgardsormr by Sephiroth, Cloud wakes from an unconsciousness spell with Aerith calling for him (7:20-7:34).
Once more, Aerith wakes him with a cute call (this time, it’s “Wakey, wakey!”), and Cloud recognizes her. In this Midgardsormr clip, unlike their reunion in the church, Cloud verbalizes that he remembers her. This time, there’s more: next, Aerith tells Cloud “おかえり, クラウド”, or “okaeri, Cloud”, which translates to “welcome back, Cloud”. “Okaeri” is what you say in Japanese when someone has returned home. In the third clip we will analyze, Aerith says “okaeri” to Cloud once more. But first, let’s break down this second clip.
I don’t know about you, but this cutscene felt extremely weird to me when I first encountered it. That is, it would have been, if not for the theory I’d begun formulating at that time.
You see, the devs could have chosen for Aerith to ask Cloud if he remembers his own name or where they are, if he’s okay, or check if he responds to his own name. In fact, asking someone who’s been hit on the head to say their own name is a much more common reaction to them finally waking up than asking them if they remember you. Even stranger is Cloud’s reaction: he could have answered “Yeah, you’re Aerith,” or “I remember everything, I’m fine”. Instead, he says her name with this airy and wonderstruck tone. He sounds like he’s opening his eyes to something mystic rather than his comrade leaning over him, like he’s seeing someone unexpectedly for the first time in a while… or rather like he’s waking from a trance of some kind— a trance in which he did not remember Aerith, and now he does. You may see where I’m going with this.
Let’s examine the third clip, wherein Aerith tells Cloud “okaeri” again. More specifically, in chapter 14, Aerith welcomes Cloud back when he snaps out of his zombified, Sephiroth-controlled state and runs toward her. Of course, it’s the sight of her and his memories of meeting her in chapter 2 of Remake that shake him awake (2:17:43-2:18:02).
For a third time, Aerith wakes Cloud. This time, she’s pulling him out of a trance and back to himself. And for a third time, Cloud remembers her. In fact, it’s remembering her that wakes him up. Cloud calls her name and Aerith says “okaeri” in both the post-Midgardsormr cutscene and this third clip. And in both scenes, not only does Cloud return to himself the way someone returns home (recall that “okaeri” is used to welcome someone back home), but he’s also returning to her, recognizing her as his home.
Now we’ve got three scenes lined up: the church reunion scene (both in OG and Remake), the Midgardsormr scene and the hand-reach scene. All three of these recognition scenes feature Cloud being woken up by Aerith and remembering who she is. The main difference is that, in the scenes among these three that are exclusive to Rebirth, Cloud’s return to Aerith is far more meaningful, as he already knows her name, and knows more about who she is to him. Evidently, in the OG church reunion scene, Cloud only remembers being sold a flower by this girl. In the Remake version, he remembers the same thing, plus the attack of the whispers. So there’s something much more weighty about the Rebirth recognition scenes: he remembers more, and he remembers deeper. These aren’t just recognition scenes, they’re also mini-reunions. Of course, as we’ve already analyzed pertaining to the hand-reaching scene, Cloud remembering Aerith is followed by him being the one to take action and run toward her, eager to save her, because she means the world to him. When you place the Midgardsormr scene between the church reunion scene and the hand-reach scene, an evolution of Cloud waking up and remembering Aerith is formed. Each mini-reunion scene adds a piece to the story: the church scene informs us that Cloud and Aerith are meeting again, the Midgardsormr scene tips us off that something mystic is going on from Cloud’s tone when he says Aerith’s name, and the hand reach scene tells us that as a consequence of remembering who Aerith is, Cloud saves her from falling to her death and saving her. “Meeting again”, “mystic”, and “saving Aerith”: these are the keywords of the mini-reunion scenes. They are also the keywords of our theory on Cloud’s mission to save Aerith. This time around Cloud knows more and is more conscious about how he feels for Aerith, just like he feels more when in the hand-reach scene in Rebirth compared to the church reunion scene in Remake. From the latter scene to the former, Cloud gradually wakes up and remembers his love for and loss of Aerith in the OG more and more. Each mini-reunion brings him closer to saving her when he blocks the masamune. This is why I am certain that in part 3, whether Cloud comes to his full senses or not, whether he remembers the events of OG or not, he will save Aerith this time. The Remake trilogy is centered around Aerith, after all. In fact, don’t take it from me, take it from Nojima:
“Aerith's the most important character in the remake so we paid special attention to her lines” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 744).I have full confidence in this fact: one way or another, these two will have a happy ending. This is Cloud’s second chance, and as he swore in “Hollow”, he is not losing her again. That is why I don’t think you should fret, and that our Clerith hearts will be very happy to see these two together again for good in part 3.
VI. h) Zooming In
In fact, this zooming-in method of directing players’ attention to important narrative beats is far from new.
VI. h) i. Changing Fate
Let’s divert our attention to Nanaki’s Skywheel date (2:28-3:30). The dialogue goes like this: Nanaki brings us the Whispers and suggests the party might eventually forget about their existence, and Cloud says that frankly, if it’s impossible for them to change fate either way, then it would be better for them to forget to Whispers altogether.
This is a very clear message from the devs: “There would be no point in including the Whispers in the Remaketrilogy if we did not make use of their defeat”. They’re telling us through Cloud’s dialogue that they know it would be foul play and bad writing to introduce the theme of defying fate if it didn’t eventually pay off.
As if it weren’t clear enough what the devs are referring to, Nanaki brings up Aerith’s death directly after Cloud delivers the devs’ message to us. He actually makes Cloud promise to save her. This is pretty on the nose. By promising Nanaki he will protect Aerith, the devs are promising us the same. I’m certain that part 3 will deliver on this promise.
If you still aren’t sold, I’d like to direct your attention to the framing of the shot where Cloud says “If we can’t change [fate]” (2:49-2:51). There’s a zoom-in on his mouth, which is a visual cue that translates to “what this character is saying right now is important to the plot”. It’s very indiscreet in theory: the camera literally hones in on the invisible words as though the script has them highlighted, italicized triple-underlined and in bold.
VI. h) ii. Aerith’s Knowledge
We’ve seen the Remake trilogy use this camera framing at least twice so far. The first time occurs in Remake’s chapter 8, before it becomes clear that Aerith knows things from the OG game that she wouldn’t normally know if this were just a remastered version of the same 1997 plot. I’ll let Remake Ultimania‘s description of this moment speak for itself:
“When Cloud and Aerith return the rescued children to Oates, the man in the tattered black cloak shows up again at the hideout. The moment the man grasps Cloud’s arm, he’s overcome by another violent headache and sees a vision of Sephiroth. Cloud wonders if this man who supposedly died five years ago could possibly still be alive. When he says as much to Aerith, she gives him a vague reply” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 04: “Scenario”, “Chapter 8 Main Story Digest”, page 256).Aerith’s “vague reply” is accentuated by a very deliberate zoom-in on her mouth (1:18:05-1:18:09), and therefore her words.
The framing of this shot indicates to us that what Aerith says provides an important hint as to the plot’s direction. Sure enough, with hindsight, it’s easy to see that’s true.
VI. h) iii. Tifa’s Question
Another time this framing is used is in chapter 1 of Rebirth, after Cloud recounts the Nibelheim incident. Tifa asks the group why Sephiroth is choosing to come back now, after five years (37:55-37:58).
Once more, we are being signaled that the reason Sephiroth chose to return at the moment he did is significant to the plot, but cannot be revealed explicitly yet. The reason why Sephiroth took five years to return is because that’s how long it took for Cloud to get back on his feet after the Nibelheim incident: Sephiroth wants and/or needs to manipulate Cloud in particular rather than all the other people with Jenova cells in them. It took five years for Cloud to not only go through Hojo’s experiments but also escape Shinra and make his way to Seventh Heaven, where Tifa nursed him back to health— therefore, it took five years until Sephiroth’s favorite pawn was available to be used. There are a few reasons why Cloud is the one Sephiroth wants to use, and all of them would be spoilers at this point in Rebirth to players who don’t know the OG plot. The devs can’t reveal any of them yet, but they do indicate via a close-up shot of Tifa’s mouth that her question is important.
VI. h) iv. The Takeaway
As you can see, this framing of characters’ mouths when they speak signals a plot-significant piece of dialogue. This means Cloud’s words on his gondola date with Nanaki can’t be brushed off as a red herring or an unimportant or throwaway line: it has narrative weight.
VII. The Devs
I think it’s important to remember the devs and their commitment to the world of FFVII. They know best for this story, and they’ve proven it to be true many times over. There are many things about the devs’ intentions that the fandom don’t seem to know that I think would give you confidence to find out.VII. a) Shifting Themes
Good storytellers don’t introduce themes as a way to pull the rug from under audiences’ feet by later rendering them completely irrelevant to the plot.
In other words, the devs would not have introduced the notion of fate as an antagonistic force in Remake, nor allowed the players to defeat it in chapter 18, had they planned for these themes not to pay off at all. Think of how good FFVII OG and FF stories in general are, how strong the writing is from a narrative point of view. Nothing is included for no reason or for a cheap reaction— especially not a central theme of a story. Fate and defeating it is a huge point of Remake, and not for no reason.
I mean, think about a storyline all about defying fate ending with a shrug and a “Oh well, we tried.” It would be ridiculous! The devs are better than that.
VII. b) What the Devs Want
The devs are well aware that fans of FFVII have been begging for Aerith’s resurrection since 1997. All those petitions, all those myths of a revival hack… SE knows about them all too well. They were even referenced by FF’s 30th anniversary expo, which partly promoted Remake:
“No one expected [Aerith’s death] in the middle of the story. Rumors of a secret way to revive Aerith spread, and it was clear players were having a hard time saying goodbye to her too. Even now, twenty years later, it still feels like a shocking turn of events” (Final Fantasy 30th Anniversary Exposition Pamphlet, page 36).Hamaguchi, codirector of the Remake project, commented on these rumors:
“Interviewer: Do you have a favorite fake rumor about the original FFVII?The devs are also aware of how beloved Clerith is to the FFVII fandom, especially in Japan— in fact, the only FFVII ship name that is an official iOS search term on the Japanese Apple Store is Clerith’s (“クラエア” or “kuraea” in Japanese). Aerith herself is a widely beloved character, particularly, once more, in Japan. For instance, Famitsu and NHK’s recent polls on the best FF heroine and on the best FF character in general both resulted in Aerith ranking number 3, beaten only in the latter poll by Cloud at number 1 and FFX’s Yuna at number 2.
Hamaguchi: I hear a lot about Aerith coming back to life and that's something that's very interesting to hear” (Hamaguchi interview: “129 Rapid-Fire Questions Answered About Final Fantasy VII Rebirth”, by Game Informer).
The devs know how well-loved both Clerith and Aerith are. And in fact, they love Aerith at least as much as we do:
“Cloud's feelings [of guilt] cannot be resolved by anyone other than Aerith. I tried to convey [that Aerith is saying to Cloud] ‘I'm still here for you’” (FFVII Reunion Files, Nojima’s note on Aerith’s character file, page 58).&
“When I saw the finished product of [Aerith’s face in] CG, I thought, "Oh, isn’t she so cute?” (FFVII Reunion Files, Nomura’s note on Aerith’s character file, page 58).&
"The idea of having Aeris die during the story had a great impact on all the dev staff," Toriyama explained, "and personally I decided to dedicate my efforts to depicting Aeris in as appealing a way as possible, so that she would become an irreplaceable character to the player in preparation for that moment" (Toriyama interview “Final Fantasy anniversary interview: Toriyama speaks” by VG247).The devs care about Aerith, and they’re fully aware we do too.
I think a lot of people have it in their heads that the devs don’t want anything to change from the OG story, but there’s a lot of evidence that says otherwise. Codirector Toriyama spoke on this, stating the following about the production process of Remake:
“[…] there were times the original version became a hindrance. Specifically, staff members with a strong attachment to Final Fantasy VII would often hold themselves back for fear of deviating too much from the original. When we created the original game, we obviously didn’t feel bound in that way. We were passionate about creating a brand new Final Fantasy title, and so we dove in and embraced whatever seemed most interesting to us. We wanted to take that approach this time as well, so we made a special effort to liberate ourselves whenever we held back, remembering that it was okay to do the things we wanted to do” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 1: Motomu Toriyama, Naoki Hamaguchi, Teruki Endo”, page 737).Codirector Nomura said the following:
“When I asked Nojima if he’d write the scenario, I was clear about my demands up front. I said, ‘If we're going to remake Final Fantasy VII, I want it to be done like this.’ At that point, I was intent on making something more than just a remake. [Similarly to how] the battle system this time incorporates elements of the original game’s ATB mechanics [while] also been reborn using a real-time approach […], I wanted to make a story that players would feel is fundamentally Final Fantasy VII but also something new” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 745).Clearly, the devs don’t want to be bogged down by the OG, and are making efforts to do things the way they want to rather than the way they were previously done. The newer generation of developers such as codirector Hamaguchi is also involved in these story changes:
“Interviewer: There are also drastically more scenes with Sephiroth than there were in the original game.Kitase, the producer of the Remake trilogy, even says that after working on this project for so long, and after spending almost 30 years on the FFVII project and getting to know the characters, he has realized that:
Nojima: We weren't planning on having him appear so much at first— the idea was only to hint at his presence. But we changed our approach partway through and became more proactive with having him appear, after which the number of scenes he features in rapidly increased.
Nomura: Hamaguchi [codirector Naoki Hamaguchi] came up to me one day and said in a mysterious tone, ‘I'd like to talk to you about something.’ He asked me about having there be a battle with Sephiroth in Midgar. In the original game, Sephiroth’s true body is located elsewhere, so he didn’t think I'd give in to the idea so easily. I think he even prepared materials to persuade me. But in the end I agreed readily [laughs]” (FFVII Remake Ultimania, section 08 “Secrets”, “Development Staff Interviews, Part 2: Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshinori Kitase, Kazushige Nojima”, page 746).
“The more [he works] on it, the more [he wants] to make all these characters happy. [He wants] to give them a happy ending. The rest of the team’s opinions [obviously] also have to be taken into consideration, so it won't be all happiness and rainbows. But [he] just [wants] to make [the characters of FFVII] happy” (Kitase and Hamaguchi’s interview “Final Fantasy VII Rebirth’s Producer Just Wants 'the Characters to End Up Happy'”, by Vandal, translated by me).Kitase is indeed only one developer, but he’s the producer of this project: that’s the very top position. He oversees everything and nothing goes without his approval. That counts for something. Of course, Kitase is fair and values the input of all the devs, so of course it won’t be “all happiness and rainbows”— but I sincerely believe there’s a big chance that Cloud and Aerith are heading toward their happy ending. Even if this theory is completely bogus, I want to have faith that the devs would not sacrifice good storytelling for nostalgia and a conservative attitude toward preserving the OG story, as that would be cheap of them, and we have not known them to be cheap. This game truly matters to them, so I think they deserve our faith.
(conclusion in
2024.05.16 17:10 AtlantiumAI SUPERLIGHT Episode 8
 | SUPERLIGHT Episode 8 submitted by AtlantiumAI to u/AtlantiumAI [link] [comments] By Roc Hatfield https://preview.redd.it/a7zv50601t0d1.png?width=1456&format=png&auto=webp&s=debf7ea73c5d775284f69dcc0a8412783256fd1e Excelsior Andriel and his staff move to the debark site on the blade where they will walk in space over to the Elo Eloahim. Ambassador Lucentel is awaiting the arrival of the group from the blade. He is speaking with the commander of his vessel as they look outside at the blade sitting 100 yards away. Commander, what do you make of this vessel, the blade? Ambassador, I am aware of this design. It is manifest and therefore has many exotic accoutrements and capabilities. It has a trans-time drive system and many highly accurate weapons. The commander pauses. Does it pose a threat to the Elo Eloahim, commander? Lucent Tell asks. As long as we are in the Aetherium domain, it poses no threat. If it were to transpose into the Matterverse, it would be potentially lethal to us. The commander and Lucentel can see Excelsior Andriel and a group of Aetherians walking in space toward the Elo Eloahim. Senator, I have Jason Anderson on the phone. Line one. You want to take it? Asked his assistant. Yes, thank you, Barks the senator. Jason, have you lost your fucking mind? Why are you talking to reporters? Well, if you must know, I am concerned about the effects of the Superlight device, and I think people should be aware. Besides, Hilliard fired me, so I have no allegiance, Jason adds. Whoa, whoa, whoa. A bunch of babies. You people are so dramatic. Where the fuck is Hilliard? We have looked everywhere, and not a sign of him or his team, the senator says. I don't know senator, but I did get a call from him this morning early. Where was the call from? Did you look? Asks Senator Abramson. Yes, I looked, and it was listed as caller unknown. He has gone into hiding and is using a burner or a call blocker. Get me that phone, Jason. I can get someone at NSA to trace it back. Maybe we can get a lead. Okay, senator, I can send it down express. It will be there tomorrow. You know, Jason, if you want that device in good hands, we have to find Hilliard. The senator huffs. I understand, Senator, Jason says. Send me that phone, and I will talk to you in a couple of days. The senator hangs up. Airman Johnson has collected Brad, Nancy, and Walter, escorting them to the mess hall. As they enter, they see Captain Carpenter and two men at a table. They stand and greet. Barbara introduces everyone. Brad, Nancy, Walter, I would like you to meet Steve Ruddin and Oscar Tillman. These guys are contractors to the Space Force Deep Black Division, the same guys that developed the TR-3 Black Manta you all flew on. They work on the infamous 17th floor, the bottom floor, and safest floor in the base. An intruder would have to navigate down through 16 floors through tight security to reach this floor and its secret projects. These guys are going to help you set up your device. I have approved this as a Halo-class project, which means no spending caps. So, whatever you need, just ask, and it will be provided to you. If the New Empire is interested in this thing, then we all are interested in it. Nancy, Walter, I know you may need some briefing to get you fully up to speed. Maybe Brad can fill you in later. After lunch, I am going to have Steve and Oscar give you the 10-cent tour. Well, some of the toys they have down there cost a significant portion of the U.S. budget, off-record budget, Barbara says. We have been talking with these greys for years. The Air Force prior to us. We never see the tall greys, always the little ones. That tells you something right there. Your little black box has them freaking out, so we need to know why, and how to leverage from it. My job here is to oversee development of space technologies. The greys are so far technologically ahead of us. It would take thousands of years for us to discover half of that stuff. We have asked them to help us for years, and they have given us an old depleted ship, and some elements that are not found on Earth, but that's about it. Even their old scout ships are impossible to reverse-engineer. We have been able to take a few components and use them. Back in the 50s, many of the big tech breakthroughs were reversed grey tech. They seem to be a race of thinkers and scientists. They use some kind of black magic. I just call it that. They call it manifest. They are able to tell the quantum to build a spaceship, and the thing just 3D prints itself into existence. That's why their tech is so hard to back-engineer. There are no signs of any manufacturing, it’s like a living metallic body, no seams, rivets, nothing. Just a wholly formed organic ship. Which brings me to the whole point of this meeting. If the superlight is an economic or ideological threat to the greys and their kind, we have a currency to trade in. I am certain they could build one in a minute, that's not the issue. They don't want us to have it. It is an existential threat to their economy and how they profit from us as a species. I have been thinking, since we were on that ship with the big grey Andriel, that the human race, and most likely many others, are creations, avatars, if you will made by the beings you are seeing with the superlight. It's all mind-melting information, but we need to learn more about these things, and how they affect our planet, and what threats they pose. You now have all the resources you need at your disposal. So, let's get some answers in fast. Our very survival could depend on it. Captain Carpenter concludes. The news of the superlight has been seen around the world. The news media have been featuring non-stop coverage of the story. Reporters have probed the White House, the Russians, the Chinese, the Vatican, just about every world leader for comment and analysis. U.S. President Andrew Walton Grant has fielded calls all day from far-flung world leaders. His chief of staff Ben Chambers is hovering nearby. The president is on a video call with Russian President Nikolai Brezhnev. President Grant, I am very concerned that the U.S. has such a powerful weapon. I have conferred with the Council on International Emergency Affairs, and they are quite concerned with the idea of this powerful device being in the hands of one country. Therefore, we demand in all manner possible that the United States bring this device to the Council, that we might understand this dangerous invention better. Sir, with all due respect. Oh no, Grant thinks under his breath. When they start in with the all due respect bullshit, it means there is actually no respect. Grant mutes the call and speaks into his chief of staff's ear. Do we even know where this fucking thing is? Chambers says, no sir, not really. Just stall him so we can figure this all out. Grant takes the mute off. Nikolai, I am going to need some time to sift through this situation. As you know, this device we are talking about is owned and developed by a private tech company, and I will need their cooperation. The U.S. government can't just take it away, not without a court battle. I am sure we can find a solution that benefits all parties. Thank you, Mr. President, Brezhnev says, adding, please notify us when possible regarding the whereabouts of the device. I have been briefed on the situation and know that it is in hiding somewhere, in the southwest part of your country. Believe me, Mr. President, I will be able to tell you with high accuracy where the device is in a day or so. Thank you, Mr. Brezhnev, I look forward to our next call. Benton, get the National Security Director and a couple Joint Chiefs, and Andy Newhall, Secretary of Defense up here, ASAP. We need a plan, the whole flippin' world is pissed off at us right now. Oh, and who was that senator in those news reports you showed me? The President's asks. Senator Arthur Abramson, Democrat from Massachusetts, says the Chief of Staff. Fine, let's get them all up here so we can sort this thing out, says President Grant. The Grand Hall of the Elo Eloahim is opulent, jewel-like, rows of beautiful tables with hundreds of leaders and diplomats standing and seated. A large choir is singing on a grand stage. Thirty individuals are creating a sound so colorful and emotional that it brings intense pleasure to the listener. No rhythm, just a continuous wave of sound, like a chorus of Angels. Ambassador Lucentel walks into the ballroom, accompanied by Excelsior Andriel and his entourage. Everyone in the room stands, and the music gets louder and more state-like in texture. The group makes their way to the VIP table at the head of the room. Lucentel motions for everyone to be seated. He speaks to the gathering, be not afraid, power and glory to the one. Greetings and peace to all those who are gathered here now. I am delighted to introduce Excelsior Andriel, Commander of the Guardian and Excelsior of the New Empire. Boos and moans can be heard in the crowd. I am certain a number of you have concerns regarding the legitimacy of the New Empire, but must I remind you that it was and is the One that embraces this division in our society. We must embrace it as well. Excelsior, please a few words. Thank you, be not afraid. Power and glory unto the One. The two small greys that were sent to Earth to meet Barbara. Brad and Bill are trying different codes on an outside hatch at the bottom of the Elo Eloahim. They are using a small pad to break in. The hatch suddenly flips open, and the little greys enter the giant ship. Down on these lower levels, it is not so jewel-like, very plain, just utilitarian. They find a room with dozens of video monitors. They wave the pad in front of the video screens. Okay, let's go, one of them says. They quickly leave the way they came in. A half-mile above on the command bridge of the Elo Eloahim, an officer, sees something on his monitor. It is the two greys walking into the power room down below. Commander, take a look at this. The commander steps over and looks at the video screen. What is in that area? The commander asks. That is a distribution node for the converters. Could the converters be disabled from that location? The commander ponders. I don't think so, commander. However, the software that drives the matter converter is partially accessible from there. The commander calls out. Commander on duty to Ambassador Lucientel. Commander, this is not a good time right now. The ambassador says, speaking quietly. I am sorry, ambassador, but we have had an intrusion. Two New Empire operatives, dressed in maintenance robes, entered a very sensitive area of the ship. This could have the potential of putting us at a great disadvantage. Thank you, commander. Glory to the One. Commander, make urgent plans to return to Aetheria. Top speed. It shall be so, ambassador. The sound of the old barge, moving up to speed, can be heard in the ballroom. The choir sing louder in order to be heard above the engine noise. Excelsior Andriel leans to Ambassador Lucientel and says, so this is all an elaborate kidnapping scheme, ambassador. The ambassador chuckles, no, not at all Excelsior, but it was a real chance to collaborate. But your operatives broke into a sensitive part of the ship, and we feel it prudent to return to Aetheria. Don't worry. I will provide you and your party a shuttle to return to your vessel. It has to be before we cross the border net, as I am sure you are aware. Go now. My staff will escort you to the hangar deck, snaps Lucentel The blade is now pulled alongside the Elo Eloahim and is pacing it. Andriel and his group have boarded the shuttle and are exiting the Elo Eloahim. They can see a bright red net just ahead of them. The border net, only authorized Aetherians can cross over it into Old Dominion territory. |
2024.05.16 16:41 Hollownerox Seeing that CA somehow made the Lore of Hags work, how do you think other obscure Lores of Magic could be adapted into Total War (Lore of Athel Loren, Lore of the Dark Master, etc.)
Lore of Athel Loren
The Lore of Athel Loren is a bit of a weird one to adapt, since some stuff straight up doesn't work in Total War. But the same could have been said about Lore of Ice, and they handled that pretty well. Also there's a bunch of additional spells from the Roleplay game that could also be adapted, but since I don't own that book (and I don't trust the wiki) I'm sticking with the 6th edition spell lore.- Tree Singing: Would either move tree terrain or do damage to units in forest on TT. Which is way too situational in Total War. I think it could be interesting to have a spell that turns an area into forest (since visually Lore of the Hags kind of does that), but it would be pretty useless unless they MASSIVELY buff the bonus welves get in forest terrain. Most likely just be made a damage spell, and maybe it has increased damage if the enemy unit is in a forest or something.
- Fury of the Forest: Would be a pretty straightfoward direct damage spell
- The Hidden Path: This is an interesting one. On TT you used it on a unit and it treated all terrain as open ground (so Strider basically), but it also couldn't be hit by an non-magical missile weapons. I'm not sure exactly how they could implement this, but it would be a neat to have a spell that makes a unit temporarily invulnerable to non-magical ranged fire. Or maybe it could be a variant of missile mirror, except you cast on a friendly unit instead of an enemy? Except maybe balance it out by not doing the projectile reflection, only negation of it? I think this is the most unique one for sure.
- The Twilight Host: Kind of neat one, it gives a friendly unit Fear if it doesn't have it, but if it already has Fear, then it bumps up to Terror instead. I think in addition to this, in Total War maybe if it is a unit that causes Terror, then it further bumps it up to also remove Immune to Psychology?
- Ariel's Blessing: A pretty strong healing spell, but the flavor text also mentions "restoring life to those who have fallen" so could be interpreted as restoring lost models too? Also gave a unit regeneration temporarily afterwards.
- The Call of the Hunt: A spell that buffed up attack and made a unit charge towards the closest enemy near it. Other than attack and charge bonuses in Total War, I'm honestly not sure how to adapt this properly. I think things like this are usually interpreted as Rampage in Total War, but that's not really fun. So maybe it would grant Devastating Flanker temporarily or something? Maybe Glorious Charge?
Lore of the Dark Master
Be'lakor's unique lore of magic from 6th edition. He was later changed to be a Lore of Shadows caster, and Total War went with this direction. But I think it's a real missed opportunity to not include these spells in some fashion in his campaign. Making a unique lore of magic useable by only one character might not be worth the investment, so maybe instead interpret it as Bound abilities, or maybe a spell lore option for the Undivided Daemon Princes. Dark Emissaries would also use them if they are ever added as a generic lord/hero option.- Bolt of Dark Light: Magic missile, not much else to it except hitting pretty hard
- Betrayal in Death: Idea of this spell is that the spell is cast on an enemy unit, and when they die they would strike their own allies in a zombie-like manner (not actually turning undead). Easiest way to interpret this is maybe a Morghur-like ability where you use it on a low health enemy unit, and they are replaced with a unit of your own. BUT I think it would be more interesting if you cast it on an enemy unit, regardless of model count, and when one of their models dies it causes damage to it's own unit. Kind of like how the Phoenix Guard RoR has models explode on death, but it is self-harming.
- Curse of the Dark Master: So this was kind of a crazy spell. On tabletop it could be cast on any unit on the battlefield, and they suffered -1 tot their ranged and melee attack rolls. With it being permanent and the debuff remained active until the opponent dispelled it, the player who cast it chose to end it, or the wizard casts another spell or is killed. In terms of Total War I think it would probably just be a straightforward Hex spell that reduces attack and weapon strength stats. BUT I think it would be interesting to actually implement it like Tabletop. Maybe instead of it using up Winds of Magic on cast, it instead has no duration but slowly drains the WoM until either disabled by the player, the caster is killed, or the caster uses a different spell. It would be a neat option that could differentiate the "normal" debuff spells from ones that are meant to be kind of crazy.
- Fog of Death: Another kind of crazy spell on TT. It literally affected the entire battlefield, and you had to roll for damage on enemy units and roll to see if your own units would take damage as well. I think this would probably be best just as a normal stationary vortex honestly.
- Nightmare: Pretty classic leadership debuff, forced a unit to take a panic test. I think in Total War terms it would probably just inflict Terror on any unit that didn't have Immune to Psychology.
- Coils of the Serpent: An instant kill on a model if it failed a toughness test. In Total War terms this would probably be interpreted similar to Yuan Bo's executioner ability. Maybe an instant kill depending on HP thresholds again? Since it's a reusable spell and not a bound ability, it would either need a crazy high cost to balance it out, or a different requirement for the instant kill.
Lore of the Lichemaster
Kemmler's unique Lore of Magic from White Dwarf #310. It's not actually a unique lore of magic, more like enhanced versions of the Lore of Vampires, meant to represent how Kemmler is one of the most powerful Necromancers around despite only being human. I think this would actually be a way of making Kemmler stand out more than just the resident Krell summoner (who really should be a separate Hero now instead). Especially since they gave Ghorst a Grave Guard summon instead of the guy who was THE Grave Guard guy.He is THE original Warhammer named character after-all, so he really deserves it imo. I'm not going to really go in-depth here since you can basically interpret these as charged up versions of the standard Lore of Vampire spells.
- Invocation of the Lichemaster
- Desiccating Grasp
- Eternal Vigour
- Withering Gaze
- Kemmler's Danse Macabre
- Curse of Eternities
Lore of Change
So this is kind of a thing and kind of not? Tzeentch's magic has gained and lost a lot from edition to edition. The one we have in-game is the 8th edition version of the lore which HARD focuses on damage. But Tzeentch had a lot of more spells that had more variety in uses in prior editions. I could see them doing what they did with Lore of Ice, by splitting these "leftover" spells into a separate spell lore.Some of these are from the Roleplay supplements, specifically the Tome of Corruption, while others are from Storm of Magic. Which was an 8th edition supplement so those ones have a higher chance of being added.
- Invisbile Fire of Tzeentch: Magic Missile from Storm of Magic. Was pretty damn strong, but the other option Daemonfire Vortex was more of a Cataclysm spell.
- Dispel Mortal: Yeets a person into the Realm of Chaos. I don't think it is likely, but I think it would be hilarious to reuse the Blue Scribes death animation, where Tzeentch grabs them and pulls them into a portal for this. Maybe an instant kill that has an animation on humanoid characters to drag them in? Pipe dream material here, but fun to think about.
- Gift of Tzeentch: From the Realm of Sorcery RPG book. Basically gives a mage a spell they normally wouldn't have. I think this could be implemented similar to the Blue Scribes gimmick, except only for one spell slot. Like you press it, and it swaps itself out for one random spell before swapping back.
- Transformation of Tzeentch: Could be interpreted as a Morghur-like ability that turns units into Chaos Spawn of Tzeentch. Specifically doesn't work on Undead, and probably wouldn't work on Constructs/Elementals either.
- Destroy Magic***:*** Would be very interesting to have a Tzeentch spell that negates magical attacks or silences spell casting by the enemy. Tzeentch not only emphasizing his own strong magic, but shutting down other's magic makes a lot of sense. We have the former with things like the Lammasu's passive aura, and the latter has been implemented with things like the Jet Lion's contact effect. So it could work as a spell too.
- Tzeentch's Blessing: From the RPG, and it was just to gain a random mutation. But I think it would be fun to have it give random buffs. There's a lack of fun RNG in these games, so the idea of maybe randomly making your unit have stalk, or a random chance of regen for a short time would be neat.
Misc. spells from existing Lores that aren't in-game
There's a TON of spells from various supplements over the years that aren't part of their respective spell lores in game. So I'm not listing them all here, but things like the Tomb Kings had some interesting Incantations prior to the Lore of Nehekara being made, and there is a TON of stuff in supplements like Storm of Magic we could possibly include in-game.Anyways those are my thoughts on some potential spells that can be added in the future? Any other obscure stuff I missed? Any interesting spells for Lore of Athel Loren from the RPG book that could be added instead? Would love to brainstorm more on this with y'all.
2024.05.16 16:40 CompassWithHat Top Lasgun: Broadsides
FIRST CHAPTER
PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
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Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]
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PREVIOUS CHAPTER
This product is a fanfic of the Sexy Space Babes/Between Worlds product of u/Bluefishcake and one I highly suggest you read. It was created with permission, but give the OG works some love.
Imgr gallery of Comissioned and Fan Artworks
I'm Back Bitches! Again!
//////////
Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero knelt before a semi-sparking control panel and sighed. She, and a large band of her fellow Engineers with Marine support, had boarded the pirate frigate with the singular goal of ensuring that the pirates didn’t scuttle their floating hulk and doom the slaves aboard to a, if they were lucky, a swift death in space.
The problem, of course, came with the pirate’s maintenance schedules and decisions to forgo certain… safety measures when it came to repair.
Like the panel before her. Usually a perfectly functional control system for the reverse-magnetic bulkhead doors that ensured void seals in power outages, some pirate at some point in their dumb, dumb life decided to fix the panel blowing a fuse… by ripping the fuse out and replacing it with a high density power cable. Which meant the entire thing was one massive shock hazard and actively sparking as the reactors deep in the ship flickered and surged due to damage.
Che’keero swore as an arc of electricity flashed towards her face after a tool that was not supposed to be magnetized, cheap dick WaDepth requisitions, caught a magnetic field, fusing the entire system shut and turning the formerly barely functional control system into nothing but pretty, decorative wiring and cheap solder. She punched the now utterly unfunctional control box and toggled on her radio. “Three-Two to Three-Lead, this door’s fried. You’ll need to bring in the cutters if we want to get to the rest of the ship. Might as well also bring in an inflatable airlock, I’m not liking how some of the metal strain sensors are flashing at me.”
A semi-synthetic voice replied back to Che’keero, “Three-Lead copies. I’ll be over there shortly with the stuff. Double check those sensors, I’m not getting the same readings, so let’s make sure something isn’t blocking errors from reaching me.”
“Copy that Three-Lead, Three-Two ou-” Something tapped against the back of her helmet and Junior Systems Engineer First Class Che’keero mentally swore.
“Now, now, lassie, how about you sit right there and don’t move.” A nasally, unfamiliar voice called out to her while tapping what a camera she set up to watch her back revealed to be a laser pistol to Che’keero’s helmet. “I think that you’re going to be our new best friend and way off this dead end ship.”
Che’keero paused, letting the situation settle in her mind, “Wait, what? Are… are you taking me hostage?”
“Yes!” The pirate replied.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you taking me hostage? This won’t work, none of the shuttles are jump capable and if you try anything, you’ll just end up jumped by marines. They specifically train to deal with pirates taking their engineers hostage. If you want to survive, you should just surrender and take the penal colony when it’s offered.” Che’keero mentioned, shrugging and continuing her inspection of the door.
The pirate seemed baffled at the sheer nonchalance of this response, the pistol slowly falling to merely point at her upper back instead of her head, “You… you really aren’t taking this seriously. I’m a pirate! I’ve killed people! I’ve killed boys, and you’re just sitting there like this doesn’t mean anything!”
“I mean… I wouldn’t say that.” Che’keero replied.
“THEN WHAT DO YOU MEAN!” The pirate screamed, the pistol moving away from Che’keero’s body by a fraction of an inch during an angry gesture.
It was at that point, a ceramic alloyed, carbon steel blade punched clean through the back of the pirate’s suit, slicing through their central nervous system and striking with enough force to shatter the faceplate of said pirate’s helmet on the way out. Muscles twitching, the laser pistol fired off randomly, missing Che’keero and slagging a chunk of bulkhead.
“I’m just buying time,” Che’keero replied cheekily.
“You really need to remember to check your cameras,” The semi-synthetic voice of Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns commented as the ex-pirate fell to the ground and blue blood dripped from the long blade sprouting from her right arm and a toolbox hanging from her left hand. “This isn’t the first time you have been flanked, and this one wasn’t during training.”
“Look, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Che’keero replied a bit testily.
“I’m sorry…” Ventures Forth prodded.
“I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“Much better. Right, now what do we see in this- yeah you were right on it being fried.” Ventures Forth gently shoved the Junior Systems Engineer aside and took her place at the control panel. “Do a sweep of the strain systems. I don’t want this section of the ship breaking apart. Feel free to call up our hull patches. We’ve got plenty to share and this might have to be a lifeboat.”
“Aye, ma’am aye,” Che’keero replied with a crisp salute before rushing off to her duty.
Deeper inside the ship, Ventures Forth could hear laser fire, clashing of metal on metal, and cries for help.
The pirate ship was doomed, it was shattered and broken, but it was not destroyed. Not yet. \
And if she had her way, Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns would keep it that way.
//////////
Roshal stood still as her steward continued to clean the dark blue and rapidly congealing blood off her armored form. “Comms,” She called out, “Do we have any contact with the shuttle we sent to the station?”
“Negative, ma’am.” The comm officer replied. She wasn’t the same one that was present when Roshal left to fend off the boarders. At the unspoken question, the woman continued “Communication’s Mate Second Class Lev’tal, ma’am. My superior got a concussion when the pirate ship rocked our ship during boarding. Strap snapped, prior damage. I took over.”
Roshal nodded approvingly, “Good initiative. Send a message to the station, see if we can’t rai-”
“Ma’am! Contact!” One of her sensor techs called out, “Belay that, two contacts. First contact, nav point 782 spinward, possible bogey, cruiser weight. Unknown movements. Second contact, nav point 102 coreward, aerospace assets inbound. Small flight. Hard to determine numbers due to damage. No less than two, no more than five.”
“Focus on getting a hard contact on that possible cruiser. Weapons, what is the status of our anti-aerospace.” Roshal demanded, holding her sword arm out for the steward to scrub at a particularly clotted chunk of blood splattered over her wrist.
The weapons officer shook her head, “If we’re lucky, then we’ve got 20% coverage on half our sides. If we’re very lucky, I might be able to bump that number up to 35%. Not going to quote doctrine, but that’s not nearly enough to fend off a flight of Aerospace assets on a strike run, and that’s assuming they don’t hit us on an unprotected flank.”
Roshal nodded once more, “Sound general quarters and get weapons and tactical back online. Tell the damage control parties to not be distracted and focus on critical systems first. Engine room, report. Can you give me maneuvering thrust?”
The nearby ship phone chimed in with a staticy hiss, “Negative, ma’am. The shot we made with the spinal mount tripped breakers up and down the reactor room. This isn’t an engine problem, we need to make sure our reactor doesn’t blow up when we siphon power. Before you ask, emergency power is still flowing and none of their circuits tripped, but that means we’re down to life support, basic systems, and dockyard thrusters. It will take at least 20 to get the reactor in a safe state. If you want 10, send the chaplain down so we have someone praying for good luck. The fact most of our structural engineers are doing an EVA boarding to ensure the pirate ship next to us doesn’t go critical and render the entire exercise moot isn’t helping matters at all.” The engine room replied Roshal bit down a bit of annoyance at the snark, but engineers were always a finicky sort with authority. They were the first to remind uptight officers that while the Captain’s word may be iron law, it was their work that truly moved the ship.
“Confirmed, engine room.” Roshal instead replied. “Chaplains will be arriving shortly. Do what you can and inform me when you’re three minutes out from full power.”
The engine room didn’t even bother replying, just sending over the affirmative light as they got to work. Roshal approved of that. Sometimes, you just had to insult someone in order to get it working right.
“Captain, we have confirmation on contact. He’s an Alliance Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser on intercept course. Energy readings are spiking… they’re charging their guns, ma’am!”
“Issue a hostile challenge and give me a firing solution with any gun still functional.”
“No response, ma’am. Hostile Karcharidon is increasing speed. Hard contact in 15 minutes.”
Roshal snarled, emotion breaking through her mask. “Of course, the pirates had one more vessel. Helm, fire our maneuvering thrusters, use the pirate hulk as cover. Weapons, get whoever’s left of our Interceptor flight to engage the enemy. Comms, get me in contact with the merchant fleet, tell them to evacuate. We’ll provide cover.”
“Aye ma’am.” The Communications Mate Second Class said with a shiver in her voice. “Sending-”
“Update on Aerospace assets!” Her sensor tech called out.
“Deliver!” Roshal demanded, cutting off the comms officer with a slice of her hand.
“Weapons fire. Definitely less than four contacts. Seems to be two grou- negative, only two contacts remaining- weaponsfire- one contac- IFF received, oh goddesses, IT’S RUNOFF THREE! FRIENDLY AEROSPACE INBOUND!”
//////////
Milk gripped her crash harness hard as Cookie slammed the Interceptor’s fusion torch clean past its safe thrust marker and into the red as g forces crushed her chest. “Last target down.” She reported after Cookie’s final laser burst hit something critical inside the final Aerospace fighter’s frame. “That’s 20 for 20. All enemy bogeys down. All standard munitions are in the black. Static drive is 48%, dump core ejected. All we’ve got left is our ASM and front laser.”
Cookie flashed back an affirmative signal.
“We going for that cruiser?”
Another affirmative.
“Well, I’m braced and ready on the release. Ready.”
“Ready.” Cookie spoke, his voice horse.
It’s funny what people think when their lives are on the line. Because charging towards a fresh enemy Heavy Cruiser, nothing but a single anti-shipping missile worth a damn, no allied support but the faint glimmer in IFF screens of their fellow flight doing the same… all Aoibhinn McDermott could think of was a poem she had read at least a decade ago or more at the Naval Academy.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
//////////
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns could do nothing but furiously swear as the basic sensor system her engineering team had restored on the thoroughly ventilated secondary command bridge of the pirate hulk revealed an enemy Heavy Cruiser bearing down upon their homeship.
“Weapons are trashed. We cored their reactor, anyway.” One of the tangential engineers reported, “Other teams are calling in. Things are worse where they are. We’ve found the slaves, though, luckily it was one of the few airtight bays. Also, have some more captives, but that really doesn’t matter right now.”
“No shit.” Ventures Forth replied, “Can we do anything?”
The engineer looked back to her, visor depolarizing so the Gearschilde can look into the black and yellow eyes of her Shil coworker.
“Pray.” The woman replied simply.
Ventures Forth Bravely Into Great Unknowns did just that.
//////////
Low chanting filled the engine bay as a small group of priests stood around the engine praying to whichever god that would listen to allow them one more shot. One more fight.
Around them, black handed engineers scurried, ripping out blown fuses and replacing them with soldered in high strength wire. A final measure of desperation. Sparks flew as engineers swore and chaplains prayed, power still remaining in circuits needing to be bled out before bypasses could be installed, turning every bit of solder and every ripped out fuse into a deadly gamble.
Already, someone was lying on the ground, no longer twitching.
They didn’t have time to check on their fallen comrade, the work was too important.
A clock ticked down. Four minutes elapsed.
//////////
Lieutenant Commander Cenywyn swore as she watched Runoff 2 die.
Their single Interceptor had mistimed a maneuver and had been caught dead in the middle of an Anti-Aerospace array, shredded in an instant. The only consolation she could take was that, seeing as the first shot went clean through the cockpit, they didn’t even notice they died.
“Runoff 4, stay in formation.” She ordered over the radio, “We’ll lead you in for the run.”
“Yes ma’am.” The hesitant voice of Junior Flight Lieutenant Griogill replied. She swallowed, “We’re- we’re ready when you are.”
“No fear, Lieutenant,” Cenywyn called back to the child she was leading to her death. “We’re pilots in the Imperial Patrol. We do our duty. No fear.”
A clock ticked down. Six minutes elapsed.
//////////
“Talk to me!” The last remaining senior engineer in the reactor bay called out to anyone who was able to reply.
Someone, she didn’t even bother looking to see who, called back “We’ve bypassed 60% of the fuses. Should be able to give ourselves a burst of combat power. No more than 10 minutes of it before the entire system overheats and we either die, or the reactor shuts off.”
“Any chance we can get more than 10 minutes?”
“Not before that Heavy Cruiser delivers us straight to the stars.”
“Fuck it, good enough.” She slammed her fist on the ship phone’s dialing button resting near the console the engineer had just ripped the last safety override out of. “Captain. We’ve got your power. You give us the word, and we’ll give you ten minutes.”
//////////
Roshal breathed in, breathed out, and nodded. 10 minutes of combat power before the entire ship shut down into uselessness. She’d done more with less. She couldn’t remember when, but she had. Luckily, this was a Patrol Carrier instead of a standard ship, so it was more than capable of combat maneuvers with nothing but RCS thrusters. That should give her some time.
Movement, movement was going to be the key.
“Comms, tell the engineering crews on the hulk that they are ordered to figure out anything that could draw the attention of the Heavy Cruiser,” She began, “Systems, break our mooring lines. We’re going to have to split from the hulk. Helm, prepare for maneuvers. RCS only. We are going to have to do this carefully. Engineroom, prepare for power activation, but hold until my command.”
This needs to be perfect, Roshal thought, A single mistimed action ruins it all.
A clock ticked down. Ten minutes elapsed. The Karcharidon had entered maximum weapon’s range.
//////////
He of Slender Tail shivered where he stood. The secondary command bridge was silent as Roshal began giving orders to fight. This was… this was insane.
They were in a ruined ship with nothing but a merchant fleet beginning to flee and a three thirds dead pirate hulk on their side against a fresh Karcharidon class Heavy Cruiser.
They couldn’t win.
This was suicide.
They would die here.
\ So why didn’t He of Slender Tail feel afraid?
He stood at his post, a secondary bridge console where he would relay orders to other departments, freeing up the other Watchkeeper to collate those orders, there was nothing he could do to help win this impossible battle, and yet…
And yet he felt heat blossoming inside his chest with every single order delivered.
“Mooring teamsss, you are to cut your linesss immediately.” He relayed to a crew of Shil scurrying around the ruined bulkheads, “Damage control, prepare for electrical firesss and arcsss.” He commanded, switching between teams instantly.
He didn’t feel fear. He could see his Watchkeeper shiver every time the sensors reported the enemy contact was still closing, but he didn’t feel the same.
What he felt… was indignation.
How dare this pirate scum threaten his vessel, his crew. How dare they ambush this valiant ship after they had fought so hard to win. How dare they.
He let his fangs fold out as he spat the next order, “Anti-Aerossspace teamsss, prepare your batteriesss for grouped fire. Gunnery calculationsss are on their way.”
How dare they stand up to him.
A clock ticked down. 12 minutes elapsed. Weapons fire.
//////////
Roshal swayed slightly as she could feel the ship beneath her feet move. Movement is life in naval warfare, movement is death. “Right RCS fire, bring us clear of the hulk. Bow thrusters, up twenty.”
“Aye, ma’am, aye, right standard and bow up twenty.” The Helmswoman replied.
“Confirmed. Next maneuver, give us rear thrust-”
“Torpedo!” The sensor operator called out in a shrill voice, “Two marks on intercept course! Range, twelve K and closing fast!”
“Decorum!” Roshal snapped at the panicking sensor technician. “Comms, order Runoff flight to divert and intercept those torpedoes. Rear RCS to full, give us momentum.”
Roshal turned away from the bridge as affirmations were shouted, and the ship began to move, “Engineering, prepare to activate combat power on my mark and prepare for hard maneuvers. Mark in five.”
//////////
Griogill swallowed bile and tried not to feel too thankful that the enemy vessel had fired torpedoes at their home ship. Being diverted from an attack run had a much higher chance of survival than striking through an AA bubble.
“Runoff 4 engaging far torpedo. Moving in for intercept. Bre’kas, give me lock.”
Griogill’s backseater muttered something, and a target lock appeared on the far torpedo as Runoff 1, their previous Drill Sergeants, dashed by in a hard burn and blazed away at their own target.
“Right. We can do this. We can do this. No fear.” The rookie muttered as the sight of her friends in Runoff 3 being turned to vapor echoed in her mind. “I can do this.”
The target locked. She fired. The torpedo detonated.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in four.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser loomed closer as the comparatively tiny Patrol Carrier spat its defiance in the form of two Interceptors dancing between the stars.
As a pair of torpedoes detonated, four more were launched, the anti-shipping weapons built for this specific purpose. Destroying disabled vessels.
And so the last two remaining Interceptors on CAP dove into the fray, risking themselves against an ever approaching AA bubble in order to save their ship.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in three.”
//////////
All Cookie could do was stare and push his meager aerospace fighter further on its nuclear thrusters as shimmering dots of torpedoes lanced out from the Heavy Cruiser attacking his new home.
He pushed his hand forward and felt the throttle once more push back against him, the lever pushed all the way past safe thrust and into the further setting on his console.
The Interceptor was fast. It didn’t feel fast enough.
And so he spoke the words he spoke once before, back when he’d had to listen to his backseater’s screams of pain and the rush of wind after shrapnel pierced his fuselage, and the hospital was so, so far away.
Father, I pray that you will not hide your face from me. Whenever I pray, Lord please hear me and answer me speedily in Jesus' name. God, I pray that you will grant me speed through your help.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Mark in two.”
//////////
The Heavy Cruiser shifted, engine flaring and it began to close the range. A single disabled ship on emergency RCS thrusters and a pair of Aerospace fighters was nothing it would have to deal with.
It fired a third spread of torpedoes.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
They took the bait. Roshal thought with a vicious grin.
“Mark in one.” She paused, “Execute.”
In an instant, power flowed through the ship, emergency lights flickered off as the burning red boarding lights returned their fiery glow. The entire ship shook as the main thruster came back online, and capacitors began to charge for maneuvers.
“Hard burn, full thrusters, right, on my mark.” Roshal watched as the Heavy Cruiser began to react to her movements, the enemy ship was alive, you needed to roll to broadsides to begin bombardment, come on come on…
Roshal watched as a torpedo flickered out of existence, Runoff 4 gaining another kill.
Come on, dammit, you don’t get put in charge of a Heavy Cruiser without- THERE!
The Heavy Cruiser flinched, turning her bow away from the no longer stricken vessel, preparing for broadside.
The Captain’s grin showed more teeth than smile. “Execute! Full right thrust!”
“Full right thrust! Aye ma’am aye!” Her helmswoman called out as maneuvering thrusters dead cold roared to life and physically threw the vessel to the side, causing everyone not strapped in on the bridge to rock as a barrage of fire flew past their former location, manual targeting systems in play since the automatic systems would still be getting warmed up.
“Full thrust forward, prepare to divert all power to secondary weapons. Weapons, give me a firing solution.” Roshal commanded, hand raised and pointed at the enemy’s display as if she were commanding from a tall ship.
A chant of “Aye ma’am aye” flowed out across the bridge as the weaponsmistress was silent before calling out. “Port side is up to 45% secondary fires and 32% point defense. That’ll be our best bet.”
Roshal nodded. “Make it so. Target their main weapons. Helm, get us that facing.”
“Ma’am. We’re getting a call from Runoff 3. They are entering the AO and are asking for a target.”
Roshal smiled, “Weapons, shift target. Aim for the anti-aerospace systems. Let’s give Runoff 3 the opening they need.”
A clock ticked down.
//////////
“Cookie, we’ve got a targeting path.” Milk called forward. “Putting it up on your HUD.”
“One second… I’ve got it. Moving to comply. Did the Captain give us a plan?” her front seater replied, causing her stomach to do funny things as the Aerospace Fighter maneuvered while under high thrust.
“Something like that. She asked for a munitions report and specifically about our anti-shipping weapon.”
Cookie paused.
“Ah.” He finally said.
“Yeah.” She replied.
“Well, let’s hope they’re able to open us up to a window of opportunity. Or this will be a short charge.”
“Not our place to question why.”
“Just our place to do and die.”
Time to target… three minutes.
Into the valley of Death, rode the six hundred.
A clock ticked down.
//////////
Two vessels, three Aerospace fighters, one chance.
Six minutes of power remained. All actors took their places on the stage.
One hundred kilometers, close enough to check the weld quality of hull seams, the two ships danced across from each other. Maneuvering.
Five minutes of power remained.
The Karcharidon Heavy Cruiser rolled itself trying to keep the vulnerable top deck away from the Patrol Carrier’s presumably still working main gun as Roshal’s vessel jumped to the side. Thrusters roared.
Four minutes of power remained.
Runoff 1 and 4 shot towards their formerly separated comrade, forming up behind them in a wedge. The trio climbed towards the sun as their captain continued to chase and harass the Karcharidon.
Three minutes of power remained.
Roshal spoke. The lances of her vessel fired. Laser blasts carved across the hull of the enemy ship as it rolled.
The rolling ceased. A helmswoman swore as a full broadside caught the Patrol Carrier in the flank. The port hangar pod was ruined, armor shattered and all inside exposed to hard vacuum. Those who could scream died the fastest. The Interceptors had their opening.
Two minutes of power remained.
Silent wings swept through vacuum as three Interceptors began their dive, their formerly speedy arrowhead shape giving way to an inverted t as their wings swept out for stability, the ASF dove and dove and dove.
Five Kilometers away.
The range was too wide. They had one shot. It had to be perfect.
One minute of power remained.
The Into Harm’s Way spat its defiance into the world, limited power drained to give her pilots a seconds more of time.
30 seconds of power remained.
Three Kilometers.
Hard Lock! Milk shouted from the back seat of Runoff 3. Cookie was silent. The range was still too wide.
15 seconds of power remained.
Two Kilometers.
The Karcharidon seemingly began to roll before the Patrol Carrier once more fired, its last remaining weapons spouting their defiance against the world. Deep in engineering, systems began to blow, wires that replaced fuses sparked power and delicate circuit boards shorted out into useless scrap.
The lights went out.
No power remained.
Roshal, in her head, began to count down as lances of light began to sweep across her ship. Damage control did what they could, but the beams began to cut like an overly enthusiastic shipbreaker.
Five.
One Kilometer.
Four.
Cookie’s thumb depressed the firing stud as the Interceptor screamed at him.
Three.
The ASF launched its deadly payload.
Two.
Three Interceptors pulled back hard on their sticks to avoid colliding with the deck.
One.
The thruster of the anti-shipping missile roared as it rocketed the point blank aerospace distance to target.
Impact.
The armor piercing tip of the missile punched into the upper deck plating of the Heavy Cruiser, classified alloys allowing it to pierce into the armored plating just enough to allow the shaped charge to open up a hole as momentum kept the weapon moving.
Within the frame of a single second, the warhead of the missile had entered the ship and, before the alarms even had time to sound, detonated.
A new sun appeared in the void for a split second as a plasma-fusion warhead detonated inside the Karcharidon heavy cruiser’s hull.
//////////
Roshal allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief inside her head as the emergency power lights flickered overhead and the gravity ever so slightly lightened. What was left of their sensor arrays showed the enemy vessel powering down. “Engineering. Good work, your 10 minutes were just what she needed.” She called out, picking up the ship phone.
There was no answer from engineering.
She signed externally before pointing at one of the marines guarding the bridge, “Find a crewmate in a void suit. I have need of runners.” The marine clasped a fist to her chest before leaving to execute her captain’s commands. “Comms, do we have any contact with the engineering teams on the pirate hulk?”
The Comms officer held up a hand, Roshal waited, “No, ma’am. We aren’t getting- wait. We’ve got visual on flashing lights from the hull. Apparently, something shorted, so they’re having to rebuild broadcast arrays. They can receive just fine, though.”
“Good, once we can maneuver, bring us broadside of them. What’s the status of the merchant fleet?”
Navigation spoke up now, “Still heading for the Jump Point. Should we send the recall order?”
“Not yet, we are still unsure if the area is safe. If we have any sensors remaining, begin sca-”
The mentioned sensor technician interrupted Captain Roshal, “Ma’am, new contact, signature unknown. Just jumped in from outside the starlane!”
“Give me details. Course, range, and speed?” She demanded.
“Signal confused, can’t get a lock!” Navigation called out, “Can’t tell if confusion’s from them or us.”
Not another one… Roshal sighed, “All forces prepa-”
“Ma’am, we’re being hailed.” Communications called out.
“On squawk.”
“This is Captain Al’yosha Cal’rada of Her Imperial Majesty’s Ship Spear of the Knyaginya, responding to Merchant vessel distress calls. Imperial Patrol Carrier, are you in need of assistance at this time?”
Roshal recognized the voice. A junior officer from her days in the Navy and a fellow Sevastutavan. The memory of the fresh faced girl when she’d joined her as an Ensign straight of the Naval Academy flashed before her eyes. “Captain Cal’rada. Your timing is impeccable as always.”
“Admiral?” Roshal could hear the shock in her old protege’s voice.
“That’s Captain, now, Al’yosha. I require your aid in ensuring the disabled vessel still glowing from an ASM strike remains disabled along with Search and Rescue teams for our sister Carrier.
“Whatever you want, you’ll have it, Admiral_… Helm! All ahead flank and plot course to intercept. Launch gunships and prepare to deploy Bluejackets. We’ll test our _Orcas’ teeth today!”
The line cut out a moment later than it should have, and Roshal nodded in approval.
“Captain, I still don’t have a read on new contact. What is it?” Sensors asked.
“A Drep’na inspired vision, come to life.” Roshal watched, feeling an odd sort of parental pride as Al’yosha’s experimental warship began closing the distance towards the Karcharidon at breakneck speeds. “A swift sailing vessel and ten carriage guns…” Roshal murmured the line from an old Vaasconian poem from the ancient Age of Sail. She had heard Cal’rada had succeeded in petitioning the Navy to build her dream-ship, burning every favor and passing out favors to any and everyone to see the program through. Now, there she was, standing on the bridge bearing down on a ship twice her size, but if the rumors were true, only half her guns.
“Ma’am, contact is still not resolving, but IFF confirms Imperial Navy designation. An Akula Class Attack Transport. I’ve… I’ve never even heard of this class.”
“Perhaps we shall hear of them more in the future. Fortune favors the active.”
“Contact is disgorging multiple signals, moving at speeds consistent with aerospace assets.”
“That is our signal we may disengage. Comms, inform the merchant fleet that the area is secure and to begin refueling procedures. Helm, get us alongside the pirate hulk, we have people to recover. Marine, get me a runner to the MP’s, we shall need the port hangar prepared for an old tradition the Navy has regarding pirate prisoners…” Roshal commanded. The fight was over, it was time to begin the cleanup.
//////////
So… that took a while. Sorry about that.
Turns out when a combination of writer’s block, decision paralysis and LIFE hits you over the head, it becomes a touch difficult to get your shit together long enough to write something down.
On the plus side, we are out of the “unplanned bits” and right back into the parts I have brainstormed, so I won’t be staring at a screen trying to think how to make things connect as much anymore. On the other hand, that means we are now entering the epilogue of book 1 of Top Lasgun.
Don’t worry, the story isn’t ending, I’ve got “three” books plotted out in my head, so we’ll see how that shakes out, but for the most part, this is where I start wrapping up plot threads, laying down threads for what comes next, and all that other good stuff.
So yeah, next chapter is going to involve everyone wrapping up what happened here, some fun little Military Justice, and potentially a bunch of plot. Also, I’m planning on starting a “rewrite”/edited version of this to go up on AO3, so keep an eye out for that. Early installment weirdness is a bitch and I’m not proud of what the older stuff looked like.
Well, I hope you have a wonderful morning, afternoon or evening whenever you read this and I will see you next chapter.
[NEXT CHAPTER]
2024.05.16 16:14 AlarmingIce9735 AITA for causing a scene and embarrassing my husband?
My husband and I have a home that has the garage underneath our living space and where summer is upon us, he has been having his buddies over for his typical summer shindigs. This is a normal and I have zero issue with it. Up until this year, I was also down in that garage hanging out with everyone. But this year, we have a baby (she was 5 days old when this happened). Now, my husband is a great man and a fantastic father and has really cut back on having people over. However, it's like his buddies are so excited to get back here that they turn ignorant once we finally do open our doors (this was the hangout spot because we have a huge fire pit, billiards, karaoke and a bar).
This past weekend my husband had people over to kick off summer and he has one friend, who we will call "Nate", who has never been very mindful of anything around him. He's like a giant kid, despite being well in to his late 30s. He shows up on his brand new motorcycle and parked it in our garage (we were supposed to get rain, so I couldn't tell you why he drove the bike but I'm assuming he just wanted to show it off). There was probably about 8 people here, I think. I was upstairs with our baby, told my husband to have a good time and went about my night. Well, my husband took off around 7-8pm-ish to go grab beer, leaving Nate and the rest of the guys in the garage (except for John, who went with husband). The store is only 5 minutes away. I had JUST gotten the baby to sleep when all the sudden my home is literally shaking. Fucking vibrating with the sound of a consistent, EXTREMELY loud, continuous revving of the motorcycle, right inside my garage and underneath our living area. I could not hear a damn thing over that motorcycle. To paint a picture here, when the guys are over and in the garage, you can literally hear them speaking. So the revving of this motorcycle completely overtook our home. My baby started screaming bloody murder. I'm trying to cover her ears but that's just not doing anything.
I grabbed the baby and went outside, where the sound was much quieter, went to the garage and lost my shit entirely. I told Nate that he was an inconsiderate fucking prick. He KNOWS how thin that floor is, he KNOWS our living area is directly above the garage and that we have a 5 day old baby and he decided to show how big his dick was by revving the piss out of his Harley in the garage for (not kidding) 5 minutes straight. I told him he had to leave. He apologized, said he forgot, he "wasn't thinking", etc etc. My husband shows back up, the baby is STILL screaming bloody murder in my arms. My husband takes the baby and asks what's going on and me still being pissed off, loudly told him how Nate decided to rev his bike up for 5 minutes and probably gave the baby a migraine because of how loud it was upstairs and that he needed to leave. My husband looked at Nate and said "why would you do that?" And Nate got pissed and said "I fucking already said that I just wasn't thinking". My husband kind of turned to me and said that we should just move on but I was honestly so fuming that I said we would move on once Nate was gone (this isn't the first time he's been incredibly inconsiderate). My husband just let out a sigh, shook his head and said "maybe everyone should leave, this was a bad idea" and walks upstairs with the baby. Nate's girlfriend turned to me and said "it was an honest fucking mistake and you just became so unhinged that you embarrassed your husband. I hope you feel good about yourself psycho." Everyone left without looking at me and my husband hasn't said anything to me about it, other than he "gets it". AITA?
ETA: I was probably still pissed because Nate came here when the baby was 2 days old and started scream talking as soon as he walked in and got the baby crying then too. When I told him to quiet down, he said "you need to be loud around babies so they will sleep through it" and kept being disrespectful until my husband took him outdoors. So he's just not respectful at all.
Edit: I told my husband he could have his buddies over. He made it clear to them that no one was allowed in the main house and I heard him repeat several times that the baby was upstairs and to be respectful. I have zero issues with my husband having people here. My husband is a damn good man and he respects me above all else. Was having people over with a 5 day old baby the best of ideas? Probably not. But he also hasn't hung out with anyone for months because the last 2-3 months of my pregnancy were extremely rough and I needed a lot of help so he was unavailable to everyone. He deserved a night and I feel terrible that I cut it short (without meaning to). Nate waited until after my husband left to go to the store to act like a teenager. He wouldn't have done that if my husband was here.
submitted by AlarmingIce9735 to AITAH [link] [comments]
This past weekend my husband had people over to kick off summer and he has one friend, who we will call "Nate", who has never been very mindful of anything around him. He's like a giant kid, despite being well in to his late 30s. He shows up on his brand new motorcycle and parked it in our garage (we were supposed to get rain, so I couldn't tell you why he drove the bike but I'm assuming he just wanted to show it off). There was probably about 8 people here, I think. I was upstairs with our baby, told my husband to have a good time and went about my night. Well, my husband took off around 7-8pm-ish to go grab beer, leaving Nate and the rest of the guys in the garage (except for John, who went with husband). The store is only 5 minutes away. I had JUST gotten the baby to sleep when all the sudden my home is literally shaking. Fucking vibrating with the sound of a consistent, EXTREMELY loud, continuous revving of the motorcycle, right inside my garage and underneath our living area. I could not hear a damn thing over that motorcycle. To paint a picture here, when the guys are over and in the garage, you can literally hear them speaking. So the revving of this motorcycle completely overtook our home. My baby started screaming bloody murder. I'm trying to cover her ears but that's just not doing anything.
I grabbed the baby and went outside, where the sound was much quieter, went to the garage and lost my shit entirely. I told Nate that he was an inconsiderate fucking prick. He KNOWS how thin that floor is, he KNOWS our living area is directly above the garage and that we have a 5 day old baby and he decided to show how big his dick was by revving the piss out of his Harley in the garage for (not kidding) 5 minutes straight. I told him he had to leave. He apologized, said he forgot, he "wasn't thinking", etc etc. My husband shows back up, the baby is STILL screaming bloody murder in my arms. My husband takes the baby and asks what's going on and me still being pissed off, loudly told him how Nate decided to rev his bike up for 5 minutes and probably gave the baby a migraine because of how loud it was upstairs and that he needed to leave. My husband looked at Nate and said "why would you do that?" And Nate got pissed and said "I fucking already said that I just wasn't thinking". My husband kind of turned to me and said that we should just move on but I was honestly so fuming that I said we would move on once Nate was gone (this isn't the first time he's been incredibly inconsiderate). My husband just let out a sigh, shook his head and said "maybe everyone should leave, this was a bad idea" and walks upstairs with the baby. Nate's girlfriend turned to me and said "it was an honest fucking mistake and you just became so unhinged that you embarrassed your husband. I hope you feel good about yourself psycho." Everyone left without looking at me and my husband hasn't said anything to me about it, other than he "gets it". AITA?
ETA: I was probably still pissed because Nate came here when the baby was 2 days old and started scream talking as soon as he walked in and got the baby crying then too. When I told him to quiet down, he said "you need to be loud around babies so they will sleep through it" and kept being disrespectful until my husband took him outdoors. So he's just not respectful at all.
Edit: I told my husband he could have his buddies over. He made it clear to them that no one was allowed in the main house and I heard him repeat several times that the baby was upstairs and to be respectful. I have zero issues with my husband having people here. My husband is a damn good man and he respects me above all else. Was having people over with a 5 day old baby the best of ideas? Probably not. But he also hasn't hung out with anyone for months because the last 2-3 months of my pregnancy were extremely rough and I needed a lot of help so he was unavailable to everyone. He deserved a night and I feel terrible that I cut it short (without meaning to). Nate waited until after my husband left to go to the store to act like a teenager. He wouldn't have done that if my husband was here.
2024.05.16 16:12 CIAHerpes I remember the night I died and saw the Bardo.
There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.
submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.
2024.05.16 15:42 Greybear_l Review of Benedict in Part 1
I wrote a long comment on LadyJenevia’s YouTube video about Benedict which I’ll copy and paste here (also highly recommend watching it and her video essay on Benedict!)
“For someone who strongly thinks that Benedict should be the lead for season four, the first part of the season makes it not look promising. As you said even though it’s only the first four episodes out now that I’ve seen, Anthony and Penelope were crucial throughout the previous seasons before they became leads.
Granted he has given up art school, but they have not made his character as important in any other way and his relationship with lady Tilley was underwhelming.
From your video essay (which I LOVED so much that I had to subscribe) you spoke about how his previous interests were not from the ton and were working class. Also, out of the family he’s the one who actually defends of working class. when I found out about his relationship with a widow, I thought that would probably be a deeper insight of how widows are treated in society and how she holds herself up. As much as you hate Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury became a widow and we also saw problems when it came to her status and her nearly losing all of her wealth when her husband died. I felt like we could’ve had Benedict have a conversation with her to learn about society in the eyes of and “outsider” if they were not considering on developing his character more.
That being said, I actually do like Cressida. In the first look of S3 I was confused why Eloise would hang out with her but overtime I got over it (with the amount of interviews she’s been doing I assumed she would take in a lot of screen time this season as well). Whilst they are trying to do a character redemption ark -which doesn’t match to the book, also the past seasons and this season have shown her to be a bully, I really like the conversation she has with Eloise and I don’t mind the time that she got because she was with a B tier character (also Eloise is my favourite along with Benedict). I didn’t care about her relationship with Lord Debling but I guess it wouldn’t make sense for her to completely change her old ways immediately.
I think the main problem is both Benedict and Eloise lost things that were important to them but with Eloise while she lost her characterisation of being “radical” and she lost her friendship of Penelope, you still see her bringing her thoughts to Cressida and learning about Cressida the same way Cresida is trying to learn about Eloise and improve her character that way. (I think also because their is an ongoing rumour that Cressida might be interested in women instead I’m interested in how that will play out and whether it’s true or not I’m just interested to see what they’ll do to her chat since it’s entirely different from the books now)
Benedict lost his art and subsequently became as if he is a C-tier character, maybe even lower, this makes me worried for season four-lack of Benedict it feels like we’ve only seen five minutes of him and I’m unsure how they’ll build his character to make him finally meet his love.
(Also I love Benedict relationship with the Mondrichs’ but I hate the way the writers only write about friendship season and never see them interact again. They did the same thing in season two (he only went to the Mondrich bar once and never to be seen there again which always confused me because he was one of Mondrich’s first supporters))”
This being said, I’ll add extra to my worries for season 4. I know we still have a second part to wait for but it really is disappointing that they had the previous leads have crucial roles in previous seasons, whilst Benedict seems to be steering away from his family and main characters - and this is more of a writing problem, rather than his character choosing to be melodramatic and depressed from the events of season two, which results him from spending less time with his family- we still see him interact with them, but it’s not like the way he used to give insights to Antony in S2, or he speaks about his worries with Eloise on the swings whilst she smokes, he’s still quite sneaky and light hearted but we don’t get as much.
In part two if he is to be the lead in season 4, not only should we see him get more screen time, but he should have another downfall- the same way Antony and Pen did in the seasons before. It must have something to do with his relationship with Lady Tilley but we have seen him break up with previous interests before and it did not do much to his character imo. I don’t know how the breakup will break him down so I assume something else will happen to him. Maybe it’s the accumulation of him giving up art and losing his sense of self- but right now it’s not written well. I’m honestly quite shocked no one in his family have spoken to him and checked if he’s truly okay and if he is sure he’s not going to pursue painting.
Now obviously part two has already been filmed so what’s done is done but I hope that they write him better in that part. And if not, at least introduce Sophie and her characterisation, that would make me feel better.
(I wrote a post before on how I imagined Sophie to be introduced before her season, which now seems unlikely but if you’d like the read it I’ll link it!)
Eloise and Francesca have had better characterisation this season which might mean either of them would take the lead next season but I don’t want that:
A- Benedict’s season should have been this one, to postpone it again would be aggravating B- I don’t think Eloise storyline will be like anything in her book, I love her but I don’t think her character now is ready to settle C- SPOILER for Francesca’s book - Francesca’s husband, John Stirling, dies in her season, I really love their relationship in this part and it would suck if he dies so early on
submitted by Greybear_l to Benophie [link] [comments]
“For someone who strongly thinks that Benedict should be the lead for season four, the first part of the season makes it not look promising. As you said even though it’s only the first four episodes out now that I’ve seen, Anthony and Penelope were crucial throughout the previous seasons before they became leads.
Granted he has given up art school, but they have not made his character as important in any other way and his relationship with lady Tilley was underwhelming.
From your video essay (which I LOVED so much that I had to subscribe) you spoke about how his previous interests were not from the ton and were working class. Also, out of the family he’s the one who actually defends of working class. when I found out about his relationship with a widow, I thought that would probably be a deeper insight of how widows are treated in society and how she holds herself up. As much as you hate Queen Charlotte, Lady Danbury became a widow and we also saw problems when it came to her status and her nearly losing all of her wealth when her husband died. I felt like we could’ve had Benedict have a conversation with her to learn about society in the eyes of and “outsider” if they were not considering on developing his character more.
That being said, I actually do like Cressida. In the first look of S3 I was confused why Eloise would hang out with her but overtime I got over it (with the amount of interviews she’s been doing I assumed she would take in a lot of screen time this season as well). Whilst they are trying to do a character redemption ark -which doesn’t match to the book, also the past seasons and this season have shown her to be a bully, I really like the conversation she has with Eloise and I don’t mind the time that she got because she was with a B tier character (also Eloise is my favourite along with Benedict). I didn’t care about her relationship with Lord Debling but I guess it wouldn’t make sense for her to completely change her old ways immediately.
I think the main problem is both Benedict and Eloise lost things that were important to them but with Eloise while she lost her characterisation of being “radical” and she lost her friendship of Penelope, you still see her bringing her thoughts to Cressida and learning about Cressida the same way Cresida is trying to learn about Eloise and improve her character that way. (I think also because their is an ongoing rumour that Cressida might be interested in women instead I’m interested in how that will play out and whether it’s true or not I’m just interested to see what they’ll do to her chat since it’s entirely different from the books now)
Benedict lost his art and subsequently became as if he is a C-tier character, maybe even lower, this makes me worried for season four-lack of Benedict it feels like we’ve only seen five minutes of him and I’m unsure how they’ll build his character to make him finally meet his love.
(Also I love Benedict relationship with the Mondrichs’ but I hate the way the writers only write about friendship season and never see them interact again. They did the same thing in season two (he only went to the Mondrich bar once and never to be seen there again which always confused me because he was one of Mondrich’s first supporters))”
This being said, I’ll add extra to my worries for season 4. I know we still have a second part to wait for but it really is disappointing that they had the previous leads have crucial roles in previous seasons, whilst Benedict seems to be steering away from his family and main characters - and this is more of a writing problem, rather than his character choosing to be melodramatic and depressed from the events of season two, which results him from spending less time with his family- we still see him interact with them, but it’s not like the way he used to give insights to Antony in S2, or he speaks about his worries with Eloise on the swings whilst she smokes, he’s still quite sneaky and light hearted but we don’t get as much.
In part two if he is to be the lead in season 4, not only should we see him get more screen time, but he should have another downfall- the same way Antony and Pen did in the seasons before. It must have something to do with his relationship with Lady Tilley but we have seen him break up with previous interests before and it did not do much to his character imo. I don’t know how the breakup will break him down so I assume something else will happen to him. Maybe it’s the accumulation of him giving up art and losing his sense of self- but right now it’s not written well. I’m honestly quite shocked no one in his family have spoken to him and checked if he’s truly okay and if he is sure he’s not going to pursue painting.
Now obviously part two has already been filmed so what’s done is done but I hope that they write him better in that part. And if not, at least introduce Sophie and her characterisation, that would make me feel better.
(I wrote a post before on how I imagined Sophie to be introduced before her season, which now seems unlikely but if you’d like the read it I’ll link it!)
Eloise and Francesca have had better characterisation this season which might mean either of them would take the lead next season but I don’t want that:
A- Benedict’s season should have been this one, to postpone it again would be aggravating B- I don’t think Eloise storyline will be like anything in her book, I love her but I don’t think her character now is ready to settle C- SPOILER for Francesca’s book - Francesca’s husband, John Stirling, dies in her season, I really love their relationship in this part and it would suck if he dies so early on
2024.05.16 15:33 sirteddybanks My [40] coworker [59] has placed me in an awkward situation and I want to hear everyones PoV since it is serious
So on Mothers day I was ready to go to my parents summer house. I sent my driver, Rob, to cash a check before we headed out.
When he returned he came with a worried look on his face and said this:
"boss, i think it is best if we hang low this weekend. I was just stopped by the police. They took me out of the car and began asking me for you. They had a photo of you on their cellphone. They said they knew i was the one who moved the merchandise. They told me not to say anything because they are waiting for you to pass that way in order to go to the summer house"
I was shocked. For one, It seemed quite an excessive exchange. Also, I dont move any merchandise. I am not involved in any illegal activities. But since El Salvador has this Exception Regime going on, the police have authority to take anyone to jail simply for suspecting.. even if it is a lie.
So much for mother's day i said. I dont believe you i told him. And he asked me to please believe him.
I called my lawyer to explain the situation and he told me to relax and we would sort it out monday but for now to stay inside my house.
I have a friend in the police department so i called him to ask if there is an investigation on me or whatever and he said no.
He came over and began to interrogate Rob detective style, trying to get all the details. He found many irregularities in the story. From procedures, to uniform colors, to descriptions.
Rob also mentioned he was too nervous to ask for names or take down their badge number.
After I spoke with my cop friend he said he only believed 30% of what rob said.
Mainly the part where they check Rob's sheet and found he had public disorderly while drunk and holding a firearm.
My lawyers came monday and one of them believed Robs story, saying why would he lie about something like that.
I said i believed he did not like to go to the summer house perhaps because he got bored.
Perhaps he wants me to stop smoking weed?
in any case, stealing my peace of mind is not the way.
When Rob left, he asked for two days off.
I took these days to talk to my other staff.
They told me he had been asking how i made my finances, and if i had ammo for my gun.
By now rob has also told this story like 5 times and esch time he leaves out details.
They also told me he had said that they should clean the attic and bill me 1000.
Furthermore they stated that Rob gave away my power tools to the mechanics that came over.
I called my friend where Rob worked before and he told me hes sma liar and a thief. Ive yet to see anything gone but He well may be a liar.
I could fire him, but i know him for quite sone time since when i was s kid, i met him: Ofc , it has been years since i last saw him to the day i gave him work.
The problem of firing him is finding a new driver. It is so complicated because they also assist with the house maintenance.
I was going to do a polygraph but maybe i should talk man to man.
what do you think?
submitted by sirteddybanks to coworkerstories [link] [comments]
When he returned he came with a worried look on his face and said this:
"boss, i think it is best if we hang low this weekend. I was just stopped by the police. They took me out of the car and began asking me for you. They had a photo of you on their cellphone. They said they knew i was the one who moved the merchandise. They told me not to say anything because they are waiting for you to pass that way in order to go to the summer house"
I was shocked. For one, It seemed quite an excessive exchange. Also, I dont move any merchandise. I am not involved in any illegal activities. But since El Salvador has this Exception Regime going on, the police have authority to take anyone to jail simply for suspecting.. even if it is a lie.
So much for mother's day i said. I dont believe you i told him. And he asked me to please believe him.
I called my lawyer to explain the situation and he told me to relax and we would sort it out monday but for now to stay inside my house.
I have a friend in the police department so i called him to ask if there is an investigation on me or whatever and he said no.
He came over and began to interrogate Rob detective style, trying to get all the details. He found many irregularities in the story. From procedures, to uniform colors, to descriptions.
Rob also mentioned he was too nervous to ask for names or take down their badge number.
After I spoke with my cop friend he said he only believed 30% of what rob said.
Mainly the part where they check Rob's sheet and found he had public disorderly while drunk and holding a firearm.
My lawyers came monday and one of them believed Robs story, saying why would he lie about something like that.
I said i believed he did not like to go to the summer house perhaps because he got bored.
Perhaps he wants me to stop smoking weed?
in any case, stealing my peace of mind is not the way.
When Rob left, he asked for two days off.
I took these days to talk to my other staff.
They told me he had been asking how i made my finances, and if i had ammo for my gun.
By now rob has also told this story like 5 times and esch time he leaves out details.
They also told me he had said that they should clean the attic and bill me 1000.
Furthermore they stated that Rob gave away my power tools to the mechanics that came over.
I called my friend where Rob worked before and he told me hes sma liar and a thief. Ive yet to see anything gone but He well may be a liar.
I could fire him, but i know him for quite sone time since when i was s kid, i met him: Ofc , it has been years since i last saw him to the day i gave him work.
The problem of firing him is finding a new driver. It is so complicated because they also assist with the house maintenance.
I was going to do a polygraph but maybe i should talk man to man.
what do you think?
2024.05.16 15:21 SweatyStreet_ta7046 AITA for banning my to-be-mother in law from the wedding
I (25M) am going to be marrying my lovely fiance (27F) in 6 months. Let's call her Gabrielle (G). She's fantastic, love her to bits, and am excited as hell for the wedding. Her mother (M) however, is (and this is mutually agreed upon by us), an abuser. For as long as I've known G, every couple of months, they will get into a fight fabricated by M, culminating in M sending vile things to G. I encourage G to stand up for herself, however, she handwaves this abuse (after being incredibly upset for a time of course) since M is the only parent that she has.
Throughout wedding planning, M has flipped between helpful, to toxic. For brevity I'll avoid examples, but this oft has surrounded money, and how she has "put so much towards the wedding". But, this has almost always been contingent on doing what M wants with the money; often outside our budget and what we want at the wedding. In most cases though, we just give in. It then gets lorded over us how much she is contributing. Any pushback over "ideas" that M has is immediately responded to with a tirade on 'disrespect' and how much she has contributed, how we should be grateful etc. This has mutually annoyed G and I to no end.
It came to a head today. M wanted to pay for a thing she really wanted, but then explicitly said that she wouldn't pay for something else that she wanted and we didn't. G, with my support, presented some pushback, which went down the familiar path of disrespect. However, this time it got vile, personal, and about as abusive as you can get in text format. It was shared with me (by G) and was one of the most disgusting passages of text I've ever read. M said she wasn't going to come to the wedding, and demanded we give back the money she already provided.
My immediate response to G was that I don't want to negotiate with someone playing the emotional blackmail card. She could have the money back and that's that. G tended to agree, saying that if that's what the mother really wanted, she couldn't stop her...
However, M tried to wheel everything back a few hours later, pretending the abuse didn't happen. However, I was done with it at this point. We're this far out from the wedding, her behaviour was spiralling. I have a personal gripe with bullies and abusers, so I was ropeable; Previously I was only hanging on for G's sake. With this, I told G that I wouldn't accept this wheelback from M, and she wasn't to come. She can have her money back, that's that.
G understands where I'm coming from and is accepting of this, however of course is still somewhat upset that it has come to this, and that M, who as said is her only parent, cannot come to the wedding. I refuse however to share a wedding with an out and out abuser who has for years, terrorised G to no end, and bringing no end of strife to the wedding planning process with her consistent emotional abuse of both of us.
So, AITA?
submitted by SweatyStreet_ta7046 to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]
Throughout wedding planning, M has flipped between helpful, to toxic. For brevity I'll avoid examples, but this oft has surrounded money, and how she has "put so much towards the wedding". But, this has almost always been contingent on doing what M wants with the money; often outside our budget and what we want at the wedding. In most cases though, we just give in. It then gets lorded over us how much she is contributing. Any pushback over "ideas" that M has is immediately responded to with a tirade on 'disrespect' and how much she has contributed, how we should be grateful etc. This has mutually annoyed G and I to no end.
It came to a head today. M wanted to pay for a thing she really wanted, but then explicitly said that she wouldn't pay for something else that she wanted and we didn't. G, with my support, presented some pushback, which went down the familiar path of disrespect. However, this time it got vile, personal, and about as abusive as you can get in text format. It was shared with me (by G) and was one of the most disgusting passages of text I've ever read. M said she wasn't going to come to the wedding, and demanded we give back the money she already provided.
My immediate response to G was that I don't want to negotiate with someone playing the emotional blackmail card. She could have the money back and that's that. G tended to agree, saying that if that's what the mother really wanted, she couldn't stop her...
However, M tried to wheel everything back a few hours later, pretending the abuse didn't happen. However, I was done with it at this point. We're this far out from the wedding, her behaviour was spiralling. I have a personal gripe with bullies and abusers, so I was ropeable; Previously I was only hanging on for G's sake. With this, I told G that I wouldn't accept this wheelback from M, and she wasn't to come. She can have her money back, that's that.
G understands where I'm coming from and is accepting of this, however of course is still somewhat upset that it has come to this, and that M, who as said is her only parent, cannot come to the wedding. I refuse however to share a wedding with an out and out abuser who has for years, terrorised G to no end, and bringing no end of strife to the wedding planning process with her consistent emotional abuse of both of us.
So, AITA?
2024.05.16 15:16 Johnnywhatsnext Wow! Her former friends verified everything. I hope this helps you too!
I recently ran into a few (now former) friends of my exwBPD. My ex now has no real friends that I’m aware of, only an acquaintance or two probably mixed in with random guys, lots of random guys is my guess
They saw me and came over to say hi. They did not know that I had ended things because my ex apparently kept telling them that we were still talking or dating…
I let them know I ended things months ago and let one of them know that’s why I wasn’t at her wedding this year. I ended things maybe 2-4 weeks prior to the wedding
We talked a bit about her wedding and she got fired up telling me a story about my ex. So my ex went to her wedding, got hammered, fell down several times, went around asking if anyone had cocaine, and ended up fighting with the brides family because they got her car keys from valet so she wouldn’t drive home. Several other things went down but this lets you know how much of a mess she is/was
Interested thing is I spoke with my ex a week or two after the wedding and she told me that she hadn’t spoke with her friends since the wedding and it was because of someone else that didn’t like her caused drama and my ex took the blame she said “It’snot my fault” - —— You have all heard this shit, it’s never their fault….right 🤣
She then let me know that my ex reached out to her late last year and threatened her if she didn’t back her on a lie she told me. Said if she didn’t tell me, word for word, that she wouldn’t be friends with her anymore.
She said she wanted to tell me the truth but she was afraid of my ex due to the crazy she had been seeing and was holding up the friend code
The funny thing was that the lie covered something that I wouldn’t have cared about had she told me the truth. There were several stupid little lies I caught her in that wouldn’t have been an issue had she just been honest and upfront
She verified everything I was feeling and thought. She called out that she was a chronic liar, constantly seeking attention (especially from men) she had to be the center of attention and spent more time at the bachelorette party taking selfies than she did hanging out with all the girls
She told me she would always end up drunk when they went out and cocaine use was heavy. I didn’t know about the cocaine but knew she had a difficult time stopping drinking once she started
I wanted to share this because I know we often feel alone because they only attack the people/person they are closest with.
My ex is quiet BPD, educated, great job, and people around her that don’t know her well thinks she’s great.
On paper, she would look like the perfect woman. Educated, intelligent, fun, absolutely beautiful!! I felt like the luckiest guy in the word until I realized I actually was the most unluckiest guy in the world
So being fortunate enough to run into two other people that saw who she was from the friendship side and who knew she wasn’t the Instagram perfect person she tries to put out to the world just verified that 1. It wasn’t me 2. She is crazy, I’m not 3. She will never change 4. She will not find a better life without me/with someone else 5. Had I stuck around shit would have 100% gotten worse 6. My gut was right! I could have gotten out much earlier I was weak she got me with her love/sex bombing and beauty 7. I am the luckiest guy alive because I’m no longer with her, doing better by the day, and was fortunate enough to be able to run into those two people to get the verification/validation that most do not get when they date someone with BPD
And #7 is the main reason why I wanted to write this post. I don’t think many of us get closure or verification that’s it’s not me, not my fault, nothing I could have done.
I hope my experience will help set your minds at ease. Not being with someone with BPD is the best thing you can hope for. You all deserve better and your gut is right, trust it, heal, find a person that will treat you with love, honesty and respect
submitted by Johnnywhatsnext to BPDlovedones [link] [comments]
They saw me and came over to say hi. They did not know that I had ended things because my ex apparently kept telling them that we were still talking or dating…
I let them know I ended things months ago and let one of them know that’s why I wasn’t at her wedding this year. I ended things maybe 2-4 weeks prior to the wedding
We talked a bit about her wedding and she got fired up telling me a story about my ex. So my ex went to her wedding, got hammered, fell down several times, went around asking if anyone had cocaine, and ended up fighting with the brides family because they got her car keys from valet so she wouldn’t drive home. Several other things went down but this lets you know how much of a mess she is/was
Interested thing is I spoke with my ex a week or two after the wedding and she told me that she hadn’t spoke with her friends since the wedding and it was because of someone else that didn’t like her caused drama and my ex took the blame she said “It’snot my fault” - —— You have all heard this shit, it’s never their fault….right 🤣
She then let me know that my ex reached out to her late last year and threatened her if she didn’t back her on a lie she told me. Said if she didn’t tell me, word for word, that she wouldn’t be friends with her anymore.
She said she wanted to tell me the truth but she was afraid of my ex due to the crazy she had been seeing and was holding up the friend code
The funny thing was that the lie covered something that I wouldn’t have cared about had she told me the truth. There were several stupid little lies I caught her in that wouldn’t have been an issue had she just been honest and upfront
She verified everything I was feeling and thought. She called out that she was a chronic liar, constantly seeking attention (especially from men) she had to be the center of attention and spent more time at the bachelorette party taking selfies than she did hanging out with all the girls
She told me she would always end up drunk when they went out and cocaine use was heavy. I didn’t know about the cocaine but knew she had a difficult time stopping drinking once she started
I wanted to share this because I know we often feel alone because they only attack the people/person they are closest with.
My ex is quiet BPD, educated, great job, and people around her that don’t know her well thinks she’s great.
On paper, she would look like the perfect woman. Educated, intelligent, fun, absolutely beautiful!! I felt like the luckiest guy in the word until I realized I actually was the most unluckiest guy in the world
So being fortunate enough to run into two other people that saw who she was from the friendship side and who knew she wasn’t the Instagram perfect person she tries to put out to the world just verified that 1. It wasn’t me 2. She is crazy, I’m not 3. She will never change 4. She will not find a better life without me/with someone else 5. Had I stuck around shit would have 100% gotten worse 6. My gut was right! I could have gotten out much earlier I was weak she got me with her love/sex bombing and beauty 7. I am the luckiest guy alive because I’m no longer with her, doing better by the day, and was fortunate enough to be able to run into those two people to get the verification/validation that most do not get when they date someone with BPD
And #7 is the main reason why I wanted to write this post. I don’t think many of us get closure or verification that’s it’s not me, not my fault, nothing I could have done.
I hope my experience will help set your minds at ease. Not being with someone with BPD is the best thing you can hope for. You all deserve better and your gut is right, trust it, heal, find a person that will treat you with love, honesty and respect
2024.05.16 14:56 Gospelway Bible verse - Deuteronomy 18:10-12
Deuteronomy 18:10-12 - There shall not be found among you anyone who makes his son or his daughter pass through the fire, or one who practices witchcraft, or a soothsayer, or one who interprets omens, or a sorcerer, or one who conjures spells, or a medium, or a spiritist, or one who calls up the dead. For all who do these things are an abomination to the LORD ... (NKJV)
submitted by Gospelway to BibleVerseDaily [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 14:41 Kilyaeden Something feels off
So I don't know if it just me starting with the second game after a long time of not playing the first but I can’t for the love of Zeus get the hang of the fire stick and the exploding skulls and I must be one of the few freaks who actually enjoyed using Hestia's cannon, has the targeting system changed so much or am I just bad at this?
submitted by Kilyaeden to HadesTheGame [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 14:41 Arbrand The Trickster's Veil
As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.
submitted by Arbrand to nosleep [link] [comments]
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.
2024.05.16 14:39 Radiant-Hope-469 Leonardo da Vinci (Ruler)'s Servant Profile from F/GO material XIV
Leonardo da Vinci
Class: RulerTrue Name: Leonardo da Vinci
Gender: Young-Girl Type
Source: History, Fate/Grand Order
Region: 2017 Antarctica
Alignment: Lawful Summer
Height: 144cm
Weight: 36.5kg
Strength: D
Endurance: C
Agility: B
Mana: A
Luck: A+
Noble Phantasm: B
Scenario Writer: Yuuichirou Higashide Character Design: Simosi CV: Sakamoto Maaya
Main Appearance: Fate/Grand Order
Class Skills
Riding: EX The talent for riding. She controls the dinosaur-shaped mecha she invented this time.
Item Construction: A The inventor aspect of hers is more pronounced this time compared to her artistic side. The dinosaur-shaped mecha exemplifies this the most.
Magic Resistance: B The Magic Resistance skill acquired as a Ruler. Her durability has slightly improved.
Personal Skills
Dreaming Machine: A A series of support-type dinosaur mecha Da Vinci gave up sleep to develop. Each one has its own unique (though admittedly simple) AI that gives them a degree of autonomy, and they all move just as you'd expect dinosaurs to move.
Triceratops: Fiamma (Italian for "flame") Futabasaurus: Mare (Italian for "ocean") Archaeopteryx: Vento (Italian for "wind")
Treasure Checker: B A treasure-tracking skill Da Vinci gained for her very first treasure hunt. While it's normally meant to detect gold, silver, and other similar ores, in battle, it also serves as a form of active sonar.
Shining at Twilight: EX Every adventure has to end sometime. Once the Singularity disappears, it will be as though the treasure hunt never happened. But, no matter how strong the twilight may have been, there was always something bright shining. Although this skill may resemble Dream Upon the Star, it has very different effects.
Noble Phantasm
Unforgettable Summer Vacation, Dream Of White
Rank: A NP Type: Anti-Personnel Range: 1 - 10 Maximum Targets: 1
Dinosaur Summer Goodbye. Da Vinci transforms her mecha dinosaurs into bullets and fires them with her trusty magical pistol. Each mecha dinosaur "round" has different effects. Although older Mystics are usually stronger, Da Vinci's mecha dinosaurs fall into the cutting-edge category, so unfortunately, their Mystic power is somewhat lacking. Fortunately, Da Vinci's ingenuity is more than enough to compensate for this particular shortcoming.
Character
First person pronoun: watashi Second person pronoun: kimi/aitsu/○○(calling them by name with no honorifics) Third person pronoun: kare (for males)/kanojo (for females)/○○(calling them by name with no honorifics)
○ Personality
Although her class has changed from Rider to Ruler, her personality seems to be unchanged. That said, she does seem more curious than usual, and she has to hold herself back from running around excitedly wherever she goes, though that may just be because she's in a Singularity. And who can blame her, since she finally has the chance to experience something she's so far only been able to observe from the sidelines.
Da Vinci had almost started to ask Master to tell her all about the latest adventure, as she always does, but then, she remembered that she would get to experience it herself this time, and flashed an embarrassed, but happy smile.
○ Motives and attitude towards Master
"I wonder what exciting adventure you'll take me on next?" she asks with excited eyes.
Her excitement is about 30% higher than usual, resembling a girl her age, and her responsible side is slightly subdued as she eagerly awaits the thrilling and earth-shattering events she'll experience.
○ Example lines
"Oh, that's interesting! Now, what kind of adventure will you take me on next?" "What should I do, Master? This stegosaurus has imprinted on me." "Goredolf, you're so tyrannical!!!"
○ Character Portrayal in Fate/GO
This summer has a sense of adventure in the air...
That's how the young-girl type da Vinci adjusted her Spiritron Dress with her gaze.
She investigated the various events that have occurred so far, and intends to enjoy them to the fullest.
Although not interested at first, pirate treasure accidentally fell into her hands.
As a result, an unforgettable summer mayhem unfolds.
At the center of this mayhem are Leonardo da Vinci and Christopher Columbus.
Though these two lived during the same period, there is no historical evidence of them ever having met.
The child a young Da Vinci spoke to about her dreams probably went by a different name, and the same is most likely true for the child to whom a young Columbus confided his dreams.
Regardless, the two children set off on different paths, each determined to make their respective dream come true.
It was a promise made just as the sun was setting. Two children talking about their dreams, though whether it actually happened is anyone's guess.
Of course, it has nothing to do with her.
○ Summer Position
Looking at the records of minute Singularities is one of the few ways Da Vinci is able to entertain herself.
"What in the world happened here?" "How did such a crazy Singularity even exist?" She would think about how the Servants who were trapped there must have felt, or laugh at seeing her predecessor's complaining in the accompanying records, even though she knew she shouldn't.
Though Da Vinci had always admired Singularities, she never thought she would get to experience one herself. That she finally has a chance to do so feels like nothing short of a precious gemstone, and she plans to make the most of it in every way she can.
○Connection to other Characters
Steggy She happened to be imprinted when it hatched from its egg. Though she says "Oh no," she doesn't seem bothered at all. Sensing the impending parting, she takes care of the Stegosaurus.
Columbus (as a boy) When they were children, they apparently talked about their dreams. Unfortunately, neither of them have a clear memory of it. He wonders if he (she) has forgotten about it as an adult. Columbus, however, doesn't remember anything in particular as an adult.
Goredolf "Let's enjoy the summer with each other", she thinks. Meanwhile, Goredolf thought, "Well, it can't be helped", and worked hard at cooking.
Protagonist, Mash "Come on, let's enjoy the summer together!" she says enthusiastically. Since the two of them are very easygoing, they go along with it.
Sherlock Holmes I wondered why he wasn't enjoying the summer, but I soon realized it was because his coat was too hot! It can't be helped...
There's no way it can't be helped.
Comment from Illustrator "Adventure to Treasure Island?" That was the plan, so I dressed her up in an adventurer-style outfit with a bikini underneath. I had prepared a character illustration of her wearing a white swimsuit for her Spiritron Dress, but due to various circumstances it was shelved. Since I had the chance, I had it published in this magazine. While the design of da Vinci herself was simple, the amount of work involved in designing the dinosaur-mecha and Steggy was quite a lot. (Simosi)
Notes: • Her True Name is what it says, which is surprising since it's not Gran Cavallo like every other time they write it. Even her in-game profile puts in Gran Cavallo. • Her personal skills, NP, personality, part of her character profile and summer position are all taken from her in-game profile since I found them identical there. • The white swimsuit Simosi was talking about is the one da Vinci wears in her FA.
2024.05.16 14:30 Spare-Difficulty-542 Annatar(Not Charlie)
Saw a few people say that the left image is not Charlie and it’s someone else and that actor could be playing Annatar. Looking Into the image and comparing it to Charlie’s dark lord form it does seem like there are some differences like the costume, the one who is coming out of the fire/light seems to wear some kind of robe that a messiah or such figure would wear. And from what I could make out of it the hair texture is also different. Charlie’s got a very smooth and straight hair while the one coming out of the fire looks to have more of a dry and wavy hair. This annatar also seems to be very tall maybe even as tall as Gil Galad. And according to FoF Daniel Burke is an actor listed to play in the show. Surprisingly Daniel Burke is 192cm tall as per IMDb,making him the tallest cast member. Now why would they hire someone taller than charlie,Benjamin and Lloyd Owen?. These are just some of mine and my friends fun speculations.
submitted by Spare-Difficulty-542 to LOTR_on_Prime [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 14:25 Dreamtalehopesans advice for help with dealing with family
when i was younger my family was happy, i guess. I was adopted by my grandparents officially when i was younger and i had been living with them my entire life. I grew up with sensory disorder and ADHD. My real mother wasn't really in my life until about 4 years ago. I never knew my real dad and i have never met him but i always knew my real mom. She used to live with me and my grandparents who i call 'mom and dad' because they took care of me most of my life. She always lived outside in an apartment my dad made for her. She then moved away. She moved a lot and never was really in my life completely. By the time I was adopted by my grandparents she was legally my sibling. She always was having boyfriends and brought some of them over for family holidays. I was bullied growing up since I was in first grade for no reason i knew about. All i knew was i was the school freak. When i was little i hardly ate much as well but i was still called 'fat'. Whenever i sung i was laughed at. I was actually good at singing and i loved to sing when I was little as well as dance. My legally sister (aka real mother) tells me now and days i was the bully growing up and i was sexual as a little kid when i wasn't. growing up i also had anger issues and nobody knew why. My mom (aka grandmother who adopted me) told me it because i was mad at my sister. my mental health started going downhill quickly when i was about starting middle the next year. i was getting bullied a lot more and my 'friend' was mean to me for no reason at all.i was at a christian private school at that time. I got blamed for put stick notes on other sticky notes in a prize container when i didn't. i was friends with everyone in that class. only one of them believed me. but when the others were told that i didnt do it they were acting sorry. one my best friend's at that time little brother had a crush on me. when i went to her house to hang out her brother was acting like a perve a little bit and was asking sexual stuff.i never liked school at all because the city and town i lived in didnt do crap when i was bullied and the principles were told. And around this time my sister came to live in the town i live right now.she gotten married. But she was toxic to everyone. Her husband's friends lived with them as roommates and my sister was abusive to them. when she was babysitting me during that time she would stab one of them in the arm with a medicine syringe you take medicine from.this kept going till that roommate left and then the next one was gone. my sister's husband had passed away when i was in middle school starting the first year of it. my sister was then toxic to me a lot. and since she was my real mom at one point i called her 'mom' all the time till she was toxic to me.she also always told me she couldnt have children. apparently, there was another before me and it was a miscarriage. i will mention this, my sister is known in my family to be a liar about everything from getting gifts for us, receiving it, not stealing, and most of the time children. About every 2 years she claims to be 'pregnant' with a kid but apparently, they all end up dying after they are born or are miscarriages. i was the only kid she had ever.and plus she always blamed me for stealing her stuff even her gun and hiding it under my bed at my mom's when i cant even put a phone under there cause the bed is really low to the ground. now onto my dad (my grandpa who adopted me with my grandma).me and my dad were really close when i was growing up.i was his little princess. That stopped happening after i came out as bisexual and genderfluid 4 years ago. And let me tell you my dad was born in the 50's so he grew up being raciest and homophobic. I was the only child he raised as his own. my sister was his stepdaughter and during that time her real dad never let my dad adopt her as his own.i kept telling my dad about things i liked that we loved together growing up. my dad was toxic to me in my middle school years up until now. He would verbally abuse me and threaten me. he even hit me before in front of my mom and she told the police that he never did. The police were called a lot cause of my anger and yelling. The police where i live never believe the kids about anything saying they dont have any rights like to clothes, a bed, sometimes to speak, to things they buy with their own money, and one even told me i didn't have a right to my own body.i was being bullied every more in school so i was getting depressed and mentally unstable. And my dad was always getting up in my face and i pushed him back sometimes to make sure he didn't hurt me and he just told me i 'assaulted' him and he was going to get me put in jail for defending myself as well a lot of the time. I had been to a mental hospital where i live 8 times. Some of them because i was mentally unstable, and 2 because i was forced for no reason. For my 3 or 5 time there my dad took me to the hospital to get 'diagnosed' but he lied.i had just gotten out of another mental hospital 2 days before for being depressed and i was there for 2 weeks so i needed to get adjusted to being out of there.and when we were at the hospital the doctor came in after talking to my dad and told me 'your being sent to *name of mental hospital i was at 8 times* for sewerslidal (not gonna say the actual word) thoughts'. and i was confused at first and i told him i was having those thoughts at all. and then he told me i was being sent there anyways and then left the room. Then my dad came in and said this directly at me, 'this is what happens when you dont go to school'. i was shocked and upset about this.he lied to the doctor and i was sent to that mental hospital again for it.i never forgave him for that.i was also sent to a behavior facility twice before. one for anger and the other for SH. neither times did it work.i was an SHing person a lot so i had different ways to hide it. like hoodies, long sleeve tee shirts finally, longer shorts, gloves, and short sleeved shirts that covered my shoulders. right now im in high school and i guess my dad is trying to rekindle our relationship because he is that old already. He is nicer now but about 2 months ago he was a jerk. my mom didnt listen to my feelings during these times so i never talked to her about feelings but when she wanted to and i tried to tell her she always interuppeted me and never let me talk and told me to shut up. my sister had moved in my dad's house recently because she bought it because he retired. my dad is planning on moving to my mom's place with me.and now here is an old relationship i need to talk about badly because my sister says i agreed to most of it when i didnt. it was my last year of middle school when it happened. i was already at a different school. I was still bullied but i could handled it a bit better there. my first boyfriend broke up with me 2 months after we got together and i was in 7th grade at that point when we broke up.i had just moved to that school about 2 months before we started dating.the reason he broke up with me was because 'he didnt feel love'.love is an emotion. you cant just not feel it right.i was touch starved and loved starved during that time so the summer after the broke up i was really mentally unstable and SH.i was taken to the mental hospital again. And when i came back to school after 2 months of being in the behavior facility for the second time so it was novemeber of my last year of middle school.about the end of November i was dating my guy best friend at that time.i didnt except what would happen after.he neglected me a lot when we saw each other at school during lunch even if we sat next to each other, was toxic and mad at me where i cried during that and wanted to feel pain, never stood up for me, never cared about how i felt or when i SH but pretended he did, and lastly he was obsessed with me during this time.threatening to hurt people. The first time i went to his house he got really touchy and then the second time he took that one thing a girl will never get back in her life no matter what.i was really desperate for love during that time but i didnt want to do that..he convinced me though. And then at school during lunch in the cafeteria while we were sitting with our friends at lunch he would touch me badly and threaten to do it more if i didnt eat or would do it anyway.i didnt eat much back then cause i was trying to lose weight, was having an eating disorder where i got sick every time i even at at least 2/4 of my meal. I didnt tell anyone this until last summer.i was still with him at the beginning of summer till my current boyfriend started talking to me on roblox after years of not talking because he moved while i was in 4th grade.he was a good friend. my current boyfriend told me what my ex was doing wrong at that time so i did the right thing and broke up with my ex.but my ex did scare me badly. He threatened to kill someone for me. i was terrified at that. He also had a spilt personality he would talk to me with a lot of the time. Then after a month of me breaking up with him my current boyfriend and me got together. He was a little toxic at first but he got better and was really nice to me. but we are in a long distance relationship. We talk a lot on discord and do video calls when we can.i was at 2 different public school this year.neither of them cared about what was happening to me so i started online school.i didnt go to either of them cause i was still bullied i couldnt handle it.and then when i started online school the teachers for that school accused me of not doing my work when i did them days in advance.i was doing really good but if i got most of the questions right on the quiz i still failed it.i would get 90% out of the question right and still get an f on the quiz.i started failing those classes and i was stressed with the video meetings cause there would be one right after another.i didnt get to pick my electives at all because the day i got the papers to see which ones i wanted they already picked them for me.and my dad was being a jerk the entire time as well as my sister so i was getting to a point of relaspe but didnt. im still kinda on that point but not that much.i dont go to therapy or a medication doctor anymore because the medication doctor kept telling me to lose weight when i was trying to, told my parents to send me to a children's home because i was not going to school because of the bullying and my regular doctor i had been seeing since i was a baby said the same because i was 'fakeing' being sick.i wasnt sick though but i was having an eating disorder still during that time to the point i was throwing up everything in my body every time i ate more than 6 bites of food.even the foods that were easy to eat i couldnt eat.and the reason i dont go to therapy is because all the ones i went to as a kid fired us for no reason and then a family counselor did the same thing because i was being rude.i was rude at all but i was pissed during that time cause i never got to talk and tell my side of the story and my family kept saying that raising my voice volume just a small bit was yelling and they still say that and my sister does the same with the voice volume but they dont say she is yelling when she is.if you guys have any of advice to help with any of this thank you.i have been wanting to vent for a long time but i didnt have a way to until now.
submitted by Dreamtalehopesans to offmychest [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 13:25 HealthyYard6559 Revelation 1:7
"Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him; and all the knees of the earth will weep for Him. Yes, indeed."
Rev. 1:7
Here in this verse, John gives us a brief insight into the events that follow and are described in the Revelation. In the following chapters, the events are described in detail and the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ will be in two parts. First, he will come in the clouds and take the church and that can happen. every moment and the second coming is on earth with the Church. The first part is also described as a secret because it was revealed to Paul but not before and the apostle Paul writes about it:
,, Here I am telling you a secret: because we will not all die, but we will all be transformed... Once, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound and the dead will rise incorruptible, and we will be changed."
1 Cor. 15:51-52
And this event refers to the coming of Jesus to earth with the Church, and the believers of the Third Testament also had information about it, and it was not a secret, and this event will be at the end of the great tribulation that will last seven years.
"Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him" we mentioned a little while ago that the believers of the Third Testament also knew about this because they had information from the prophet Malachi who wrote:
"For, behold, a day is coming that burns like an oven, and all will be proud, and all who work wickedly will be stubble, and the day that is coming will burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, and will leave them neither root nor branch."
Mal. 4:1
and this was also confirmed by Jude in verse 14.
"Look, the Lord is coming with thousands of his holy angels"
Jude 1:14
Here we can notice that Malachi and Judas used the warning words "behold it is coming" and for them this was the future and they practically warned the listeners to pay attention to this event and John says "here it is coming" which is another proof that Jovan saw these events in real time, for him it is the present, he sees it now and not as some future event.
This event is something that will happen in the future and the Bible clearly describes it, however, a large number of people doubt or do not believe that this will happen. And it is not strange, although they have a lot of evidence, the Bible foretold this in advance:
"And know this first, that in the last days scoffers will come who will live according to their own desires, And say: Where is the promise of his coming?"
2 Peter 3:3-4
Regardless of the fact that someone does not believe what the Bible warns in advance, this event will be real and many will not like it, but God does not change his plans and what he prophesied in the first book of Moses will soon be fulfilled, as well as other prophecies written in the Old and New vow.
"The ruler's rod will not be separated from Judah nor from his feet the one who sets the law, until the One to whom it belongs comes, and the nations will obey Him."
Gen.49:10
So from the tribe of Judah will come someone who is called "The One" and that someone is the Lord Jesus Christ and he will be the ruler and the nations will obey him and he will rule throughout eternity.
"Look to me, and I will give you nations as your inheritance, and the ends of the earth as your kingdom."
Psalm 2:8
"And His feet will stand in that day on the Mount of Olives, which is towards Jerusalem from the east, and the Mount of Olives will split in the middle to the east and to the west, so that it will be very large, and half of the mountain will give way to the north and half to the South. And you will flee into the valley of the mountains, because the valley of the mountains will reach Asal, and you will flee as you fled from the ruins in the time of Uzziah, king of Judah; and the Lord my God will come, and all the saints will be with you. And in that day light and darkness shall not be seen; But there will be one day, which is known to the Lord, it will not be day and night, because there will be light in the evening. And on that day, living water will flow from Jerusalem, half to the eastern sea and half to the western sea, and it will be both summer and in winter. And the Lord will be king over all the earth, in that day the Lord will be one and His name will be one. And the whole earth will be turned into a plain from Gibeah to Rimmon on the south of Jerusalem, which will be raised and settled in its place from the gate of Benjamin to the place where the first door is, to the door at the corner, and from Ananeil's tower to the emperor's father-in-law. And they shall continue in it, and there shall be no more curse, and Jerusalem shall stand without fear."
Zechariah 14:4-11
We have seen that Jesus is surely coming, but in this age of grace there is an intention or a plan for non-Jews as well, and that plan is to build the Church of Jesus made up of saved people in the time after the cross, including our time.
,,Simon said that God first visited and received a people from the Gentiles to his name. And with this are struck the words of the prophet, as it is written: Then I will return, and I will build the house of David, which has fallen, and I will repair its ruins, and I will raise it up, So that the rest of the people and all the nations in which my name is mentioned will seek the Lord , says the Lord who creates all these."
Acts 15:14-17
The Church is the building of all nations in the New Testament time, and the Church should be built first, and then comes the kingdom.
"And do not make any differences between us and them, having cleansed their hearts with faith. Now then, why do you tempt God and want to put a yoke on the disciples' necks, which neither our fathers nor we could bear? Rather, we believe that we will be saved by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, just like them."
Acts 15:9-11
"Then I will return, and I will build the house of David."
Acts 15:16
And when that happens, Jesus will reign over all nations, but before that, Armageddon will be the last great battle where many will die in the fight against God.
"I will gather all the nations, and bring them down to the valley of Jehoshaphat, and there I will judge with them for my people and for my inheritance, Israel, whom they scattered among the nations and divided my land;"
Joel 3:2
"Proclaim this to the nations, declare war, raise up heroes, let all the soldiers come and go." Break your plowshares into swords, and your sickles into spears; let him who is weak say: I am a hero."
Joel 3:9-10
,,...for I will sit there to judge all the nations around."
Joel 3:12
And after the terrible battle:
"And the Savior will come to Zion and to those of Jacob who turn from their sins, says the Lord. And this will be my covenant with them, says the Lord: My Spirit, which is in you, and my words, which I have put in your mouth , will not depart from your mouth, nor from the mouth of your seed, nor from the mouth of the seed of your seed, says the Lord, forever and ever"
Isa.59:20-21
,,Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, in which I will raise up for David a righteous Seed, which will reign and be happy and do judgment and justice on earth. In His days, Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell in peace, and this is his the name by which he will be called: Lord our justice."
Jer. 23:5-6
This has not happened yet, but it will happen soon to fulfill the prophecies, and when Jesus came the first time, they did not accept him and did not believe him, even the high priest asked him:
,, And the chief priest answered and said to Him: I adjure you by the living God to tell us if you are the Christ, the son of God? Jesus said to him: You said. But I say to you: you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of power and riding on the clouds of heaven. Then the chief priest tore his clothes, saying: Blaspheme God; what do we need more witnesses? Now you can hear his blasphemy. What do you think? And they answered and said: He deserved death."
Mtt. 26:63-66
And then they concluded that He deserved death, but they were mistaken, they could not kill Him. He is alive and will return again in glory as it is written in the verses of the prophets and apostles.
"There it goes with the clouds" is something that will be and through the Bible the cloud is a symbol of God's glory and presence and the Jews knew this because the "cloud" led them through the desert:
"And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, leading them on the way, and by night in a pillar of fire, giving them light, so that they could travel day and night."
Exod.13:21
and also filled the tent of meeting with the glory of God.
"Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the tabernacle of the Lord's glory was filled."
Exod. 40:34
Danilo saw this "cloud"
"I saw in the visions of the night, and behold, one like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the old man and stood before Him"
Daniel 7:13
On the Mount of Transfiguration one could see:
"While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them; and behold, a voice from the cloud, saying: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; Listen to him."
Matt. 17:5
and also at the ascension on the Mount of Olives:
"And having said this, they saw where a cloud lifted up and carried Him away from their eyes."
Acts. 1:9
The return will be similar, "clouds" are mentioned, but these are not ordinary clouds that we can see every day in the sky, these are clouds of glory.
"And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven; and then all the tribes of the earth will weep; and they will see the Son of Man riding on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory."
Matt. 24:30
"and every eye will see Him" at that time the light of the Lord's glory will be even more pronounced because the sun and the moon will lose their light:
"And I saw when he opened the sixth seal, and behold, the earth shook very much, and the sun became black as sackcloth, and the moon became like blood"
Rev. 6:12
and then the glory of the Lord will shine so brightly that everyone will see and everyone will know what it is about, that's why many unbelievers will try to hide in caves and holes to avoid the Cross of Jesus Christ
"And he said to the mountains and rocks: Fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb."
Rev. 6:16
Throughout history, God appeared in a "cloud" and the glory of the cloud is the light and the glory of God, and it is such a strong light that it is blinding, and man cannot look into it and see God in fullness and remain alive, it is God himself said to Moses:
"But you will not be able to see my face, because a man cannot see me and remain alive."
Exod. 33:20
Therefore, no one can see God and stay alive, the only thing he can see is a ray of God's glory in the form of light, but practically he can't look at it either, but only see it for a moment because neither Ezekiel nor Paul wrote, "I looked" someone,, saw " so they saw it briefly.
"And I saw, and behold, a mighty wind came from the north, and a great cloud and a burning fire, and around it a light, and in the midst of the fire like a bright light;"
Ezekiel 1:4
"And behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the east, and its voice was like the voice of great water, and the earth trembled from His glory."
Ezekiel 43:2
Paul saw that light while he was still Saul in the middle of the day and here is the description after which he fell to the ground and became blind:
"And when I was going and got close to Damascus, it happened to me around noon that a great light suddenly shone on me from the sky."
Acts 22:13
"At noon, king, I saw on the way from the sky a light greater than the brightness of the sun, which illuminated me and those who were going with me.
Acts 26:13
"And when I became blind from the strong light of it, those who were with me led me by the hand, and I came to Damascus."
Acts 22:11
"and those who pierced Him" Jesus was pierced by Roman soldiers, but they are not meant here because these are events that are yet to happen, and Roman soldiers pierced Jesus almost 2000 years ago, here we mean the generation of Jews who will live in that time. For them it says:
"And I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem the spirit of mercy and prayers, and they will look at me whom they pierced; and they will weep for him as for an only child, and they will sue for him as for the firstborn."
Zechariah 12:10
"They will look at Him whom they pierced."
John 19:37
This is written because the Jews were responsible for Jesus' death even though the Romans carried out the crucifixion.
"People of Israel! Listen to these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man confirmed by God among you by the powers and miracles and signs that God did through him among you, as you yourselves know, having received him delivered by the specific counsel and providence of God, you nailed and killed him through the hands of the lawless;
Acts 2:22-23
"And you renounced the Saint and the Righteous, and begged the executioner to give you gifts; And you killed the Prince of life, whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses."
Acts 3:14-15
"and all the knees of the earth will weep for Him" We have reached the last part where we can see that at the coming of the Lord Jesus, people will cry and it will not be from happiness that Jesus is coming but from despair and fear of the wrath of the Lord Jesus Christ.
,, And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven; and then all the tribes of the earth will weep; and they will see the Son of Man riding on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory"
Matt. 24:30
And he said to the mountains and rocks: Fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. For the great day of His wrath is coming, and who can remain?"
Rev. 6:16-17
In the next verse we see that they did not repent of their sins:
"Neither did they repent of their murders, nor of their witchcraft, nor of their fornication, nor of their thefts."
Rev. 9:21
"Yes, indeed." John wrote this, but the Holy Spirit practically confirms what was described in the previous part of the verse. John seems to say, "Let it be as you planned and said because it is your will, I fully agree"
"Yes, indeed."
submitted by HealthyYard6559 to u/HealthyYard6559 [link] [comments]
Rev. 1:7
Here in this verse, John gives us a brief insight into the events that follow and are described in the Revelation. In the following chapters, the events are described in detail and the coming of the Lord Jesus Christ will be in two parts. First, he will come in the clouds and take the church and that can happen. every moment and the second coming is on earth with the Church. The first part is also described as a secret because it was revealed to Paul but not before and the apostle Paul writes about it:
,, Here I am telling you a secret: because we will not all die, but we will all be transformed... Once, in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet; for the trumpet will sound and the dead will rise incorruptible, and we will be changed."
1 Cor. 15:51-52
And this event refers to the coming of Jesus to earth with the Church, and the believers of the Third Testament also had information about it, and it was not a secret, and this event will be at the end of the great tribulation that will last seven years.
"Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him" we mentioned a little while ago that the believers of the Third Testament also knew about this because they had information from the prophet Malachi who wrote:
"For, behold, a day is coming that burns like an oven, and all will be proud, and all who work wickedly will be stubble, and the day that is coming will burn them up, says the Lord of hosts, and will leave them neither root nor branch."
Mal. 4:1
and this was also confirmed by Jude in verse 14.
"Look, the Lord is coming with thousands of his holy angels"
Jude 1:14
Here we can notice that Malachi and Judas used the warning words "behold it is coming" and for them this was the future and they practically warned the listeners to pay attention to this event and John says "here it is coming" which is another proof that Jovan saw these events in real time, for him it is the present, he sees it now and not as some future event.
This event is something that will happen in the future and the Bible clearly describes it, however, a large number of people doubt or do not believe that this will happen. And it is not strange, although they have a lot of evidence, the Bible foretold this in advance:
"And know this first, that in the last days scoffers will come who will live according to their own desires, And say: Where is the promise of his coming?"
2 Peter 3:3-4
Regardless of the fact that someone does not believe what the Bible warns in advance, this event will be real and many will not like it, but God does not change his plans and what he prophesied in the first book of Moses will soon be fulfilled, as well as other prophecies written in the Old and New vow.
"The ruler's rod will not be separated from Judah nor from his feet the one who sets the law, until the One to whom it belongs comes, and the nations will obey Him."
Gen.49:10
So from the tribe of Judah will come someone who is called "The One" and that someone is the Lord Jesus Christ and he will be the ruler and the nations will obey him and he will rule throughout eternity.
"Look to me, and I will give you nations as your inheritance, and the ends of the earth as your kingdom."
Psalm 2:8
"And His feet will stand in that day on the Mount of Olives, which is towards Jerusalem from the east, and the Mount of Olives will split in the middle to the east and to the west, so that it will be very large, and half of the mountain will give way to the north and half to the South. And you will flee into the valley of the mountains, because the valley of the mountains will reach Asal, and you will flee as you fled from the ruins in the time of Uzziah, king of Judah; and the Lord my God will come, and all the saints will be with you. And in that day light and darkness shall not be seen; But there will be one day, which is known to the Lord, it will not be day and night, because there will be light in the evening. And on that day, living water will flow from Jerusalem, half to the eastern sea and half to the western sea, and it will be both summer and in winter. And the Lord will be king over all the earth, in that day the Lord will be one and His name will be one. And the whole earth will be turned into a plain from Gibeah to Rimmon on the south of Jerusalem, which will be raised and settled in its place from the gate of Benjamin to the place where the first door is, to the door at the corner, and from Ananeil's tower to the emperor's father-in-law. And they shall continue in it, and there shall be no more curse, and Jerusalem shall stand without fear."
Zechariah 14:4-11
We have seen that Jesus is surely coming, but in this age of grace there is an intention or a plan for non-Jews as well, and that plan is to build the Church of Jesus made up of saved people in the time after the cross, including our time.
,,Simon said that God first visited and received a people from the Gentiles to his name. And with this are struck the words of the prophet, as it is written: Then I will return, and I will build the house of David, which has fallen, and I will repair its ruins, and I will raise it up, So that the rest of the people and all the nations in which my name is mentioned will seek the Lord , says the Lord who creates all these."
Acts 15:14-17
The Church is the building of all nations in the New Testament time, and the Church should be built first, and then comes the kingdom.
"And do not make any differences between us and them, having cleansed their hearts with faith. Now then, why do you tempt God and want to put a yoke on the disciples' necks, which neither our fathers nor we could bear? Rather, we believe that we will be saved by the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, just like them."
Acts 15:9-11
"Then I will return, and I will build the house of David."
Acts 15:16
And when that happens, Jesus will reign over all nations, but before that, Armageddon will be the last great battle where many will die in the fight against God.
"I will gather all the nations, and bring them down to the valley of Jehoshaphat, and there I will judge with them for my people and for my inheritance, Israel, whom they scattered among the nations and divided my land;"
Joel 3:2
"Proclaim this to the nations, declare war, raise up heroes, let all the soldiers come and go." Break your plowshares into swords, and your sickles into spears; let him who is weak say: I am a hero."
Joel 3:9-10
,,...for I will sit there to judge all the nations around."
Joel 3:12
And after the terrible battle:
"And the Savior will come to Zion and to those of Jacob who turn from their sins, says the Lord. And this will be my covenant with them, says the Lord: My Spirit, which is in you, and my words, which I have put in your mouth , will not depart from your mouth, nor from the mouth of your seed, nor from the mouth of the seed of your seed, says the Lord, forever and ever"
Isa.59:20-21
,,Behold, the days are coming, says the Lord, in which I will raise up for David a righteous Seed, which will reign and be happy and do judgment and justice on earth. In His days, Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell in peace, and this is his the name by which he will be called: Lord our justice."
Jer. 23:5-6
This has not happened yet, but it will happen soon to fulfill the prophecies, and when Jesus came the first time, they did not accept him and did not believe him, even the high priest asked him:
,, And the chief priest answered and said to Him: I adjure you by the living God to tell us if you are the Christ, the son of God? Jesus said to him: You said. But I say to you: you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of power and riding on the clouds of heaven. Then the chief priest tore his clothes, saying: Blaspheme God; what do we need more witnesses? Now you can hear his blasphemy. What do you think? And they answered and said: He deserved death."
Mtt. 26:63-66
And then they concluded that He deserved death, but they were mistaken, they could not kill Him. He is alive and will return again in glory as it is written in the verses of the prophets and apostles.
"There it goes with the clouds" is something that will be and through the Bible the cloud is a symbol of God's glory and presence and the Jews knew this because the "cloud" led them through the desert:
"And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud, leading them on the way, and by night in a pillar of fire, giving them light, so that they could travel day and night."
Exod.13:21
and also filled the tent of meeting with the glory of God.
"Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the tabernacle of the Lord's glory was filled."
Exod. 40:34
Danilo saw this "cloud"
"I saw in the visions of the night, and behold, one like the Son of Man came with the clouds of heaven, and came to the old man and stood before Him"
Daniel 7:13
On the Mount of Transfiguration one could see:
"While he was still speaking, behold, a bright cloud overshadowed them; and behold, a voice from the cloud, saying: This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased; Listen to him."
Matt. 17:5
and also at the ascension on the Mount of Olives:
"And having said this, they saw where a cloud lifted up and carried Him away from their eyes."
Acts. 1:9
The return will be similar, "clouds" are mentioned, but these are not ordinary clouds that we can see every day in the sky, these are clouds of glory.
"And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven; and then all the tribes of the earth will weep; and they will see the Son of Man riding on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory."
Matt. 24:30
"and every eye will see Him" at that time the light of the Lord's glory will be even more pronounced because the sun and the moon will lose their light:
"And I saw when he opened the sixth seal, and behold, the earth shook very much, and the sun became black as sackcloth, and the moon became like blood"
Rev. 6:12
and then the glory of the Lord will shine so brightly that everyone will see and everyone will know what it is about, that's why many unbelievers will try to hide in caves and holes to avoid the Cross of Jesus Christ
"And he said to the mountains and rocks: Fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb."
Rev. 6:16
Throughout history, God appeared in a "cloud" and the glory of the cloud is the light and the glory of God, and it is such a strong light that it is blinding, and man cannot look into it and see God in fullness and remain alive, it is God himself said to Moses:
"But you will not be able to see my face, because a man cannot see me and remain alive."
Exod. 33:20
Therefore, no one can see God and stay alive, the only thing he can see is a ray of God's glory in the form of light, but practically he can't look at it either, but only see it for a moment because neither Ezekiel nor Paul wrote, "I looked" someone,, saw " so they saw it briefly.
"And I saw, and behold, a mighty wind came from the north, and a great cloud and a burning fire, and around it a light, and in the midst of the fire like a bright light;"
Ezekiel 1:4
"And behold, the glory of the God of Israel came from the east, and its voice was like the voice of great water, and the earth trembled from His glory."
Ezekiel 43:2
Paul saw that light while he was still Saul in the middle of the day and here is the description after which he fell to the ground and became blind:
"And when I was going and got close to Damascus, it happened to me around noon that a great light suddenly shone on me from the sky."
Acts 22:13
"At noon, king, I saw on the way from the sky a light greater than the brightness of the sun, which illuminated me and those who were going with me.
Acts 26:13
"And when I became blind from the strong light of it, those who were with me led me by the hand, and I came to Damascus."
Acts 22:11
"and those who pierced Him" Jesus was pierced by Roman soldiers, but they are not meant here because these are events that are yet to happen, and Roman soldiers pierced Jesus almost 2000 years ago, here we mean the generation of Jews who will live in that time. For them it says:
"And I will pour out on the house of David and on the inhabitants of Jerusalem the spirit of mercy and prayers, and they will look at me whom they pierced; and they will weep for him as for an only child, and they will sue for him as for the firstborn."
Zechariah 12:10
"They will look at Him whom they pierced."
John 19:37
This is written because the Jews were responsible for Jesus' death even though the Romans carried out the crucifixion.
"People of Israel! Listen to these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man confirmed by God among you by the powers and miracles and signs that God did through him among you, as you yourselves know, having received him delivered by the specific counsel and providence of God, you nailed and killed him through the hands of the lawless;
Acts 2:22-23
"And you renounced the Saint and the Righteous, and begged the executioner to give you gifts; And you killed the Prince of life, whom God raised from the dead, of which we are witnesses."
Acts 3:14-15
"and all the knees of the earth will weep for Him" We have reached the last part where we can see that at the coming of the Lord Jesus, people will cry and it will not be from happiness that Jesus is coming but from despair and fear of the wrath of the Lord Jesus Christ.
,, And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven; and then all the tribes of the earth will weep; and they will see the Son of Man riding on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory"
Matt. 24:30
And he said to the mountains and rocks: Fall on us, and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne, and from the wrath of the Lamb. For the great day of His wrath is coming, and who can remain?"
Rev. 6:16-17
In the next verse we see that they did not repent of their sins:
"Neither did they repent of their murders, nor of their witchcraft, nor of their fornication, nor of their thefts."
Rev. 9:21
"Yes, indeed." John wrote this, but the Holy Spirit practically confirms what was described in the previous part of the verse. John seems to say, "Let it be as you planned and said because it is your will, I fully agree"
"Yes, indeed."
2024.05.16 12:57 yuzhone Boss sleeping with co-worker/friend.
I'm glad I've found this Sub-Reddit, because I just need to get this off my chest.
So I work in a commercial industry - your typical 9-5. & have recently found out that my (Now no longer) friend has been sleeping with my boss. My boss is married with kids, my ex-friend is engaged. The worst part is, HR of the company is the bosses wife. So while it's none of my business - I couldn't say anything even if I wanted to.
Backstory: So my boss has a history of sleeping with staff members, many of us know about it (I'm sure his wife does too) and some have even caught them not quite in the act, but fooling around. Some staff have left over it, some staff have left due to it stopping, others he has fired. Now look, this is none of my business, it's not affecting me at all - so I couldn't care less. HOWEVER. When my now ex-friend started hanging out with him a little more outside of work, being invited into the office late at night and not going home until 5am, both snap chatting each other 24/7 and her getting mysterious raises at work while the rest of us (including myself) are stuck at barely getting by. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Trying to ask for a raise (after 2 years of being there) as my role now has increased workflow/responsibilities, which is getting denied over and over, because as I've just found out, I was discussing it with a few work friends and guess who is running back to the boss with everything we say.. Bingo you guessed it.
My issue now is, I'm friends with my friends fiance. I'm sure he's aware, he's the sweetest soul. Do I hint at it with him? Do I let the world do it's thing?
I'm not in a position where I can call out this bad behaviour at work because I cannot afford to lose this job. However being such a small team, it's such a toxic work environment now. To the point where this ex-friend is adding clients from work on social media and being flirty with them too.
I'm sure eventually, just like everyone else, she will quit, or he will move on with someone else (cheaters tend to get bored easily) and leave her aside - but my mind is baffled by all of this happening. It's completely F*cked and not what I was expecting coming into this industry.. Even to the point now where she openly said (there was only 2 of us in the office) that she doesn't like being around her fiance, she only likes being around the boss because she feels good with him.
This world is fucked.
submitted by yuzhone to offmychest [link] [comments]
So I work in a commercial industry - your typical 9-5. & have recently found out that my (Now no longer) friend has been sleeping with my boss. My boss is married with kids, my ex-friend is engaged. The worst part is, HR of the company is the bosses wife. So while it's none of my business - I couldn't say anything even if I wanted to.
Backstory: So my boss has a history of sleeping with staff members, many of us know about it (I'm sure his wife does too) and some have even caught them not quite in the act, but fooling around. Some staff have left over it, some staff have left due to it stopping, others he has fired. Now look, this is none of my business, it's not affecting me at all - so I couldn't care less. HOWEVER. When my now ex-friend started hanging out with him a little more outside of work, being invited into the office late at night and not going home until 5am, both snap chatting each other 24/7 and her getting mysterious raises at work while the rest of us (including myself) are stuck at barely getting by. I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. Trying to ask for a raise (after 2 years of being there) as my role now has increased workflow/responsibilities, which is getting denied over and over, because as I've just found out, I was discussing it with a few work friends and guess who is running back to the boss with everything we say.. Bingo you guessed it.
My issue now is, I'm friends with my friends fiance. I'm sure he's aware, he's the sweetest soul. Do I hint at it with him? Do I let the world do it's thing?
I'm not in a position where I can call out this bad behaviour at work because I cannot afford to lose this job. However being such a small team, it's such a toxic work environment now. To the point where this ex-friend is adding clients from work on social media and being flirty with them too.
I'm sure eventually, just like everyone else, she will quit, or he will move on with someone else (cheaters tend to get bored easily) and leave her aside - but my mind is baffled by all of this happening. It's completely F*cked and not what I was expecting coming into this industry.. Even to the point now where she openly said (there was only 2 of us in the office) that she doesn't like being around her fiance, she only likes being around the boss because she feels good with him.
This world is fucked.