TW: mental health and mention of SH.
I’m 22. I have a very bubbly personality, i care deeply about people thats why i invest my time into anyone i befriend. I cope with humor, escapism or isolation.
I keep noticing that the more im helpful, present and giving towards others, the more im subjected to apathy. People tend to hold me into a high standard and immediately dehumanize me once i can’t maintain reaching it.
I recently had a friendship breakup with a good friend of mine after i cancelled last minute to a hangout. They have BPD, they removed me and restricted me from seeing their stories and stopped replying to my texts and calls afterwards. Before removing me from their spam, they posted a good amount of stories talking about how all of their friends aren’t there for them and how lonely they are. In addition they posted a photo of a ruined bouquet of flower they were supposed to gift me during the hangout, they destroyed it because i cancelled. I did so because i was exhausted mentally and needed a break, i tried my best to get my mood up to go meet them but i failed. I took a shower and a nap. Nothing helped. So i texted them cancelling the meeting. That triggered a split within them and they texted me back saying that they wish i told them sooner and that they got flowers for me. I repeatedly apologised and even made a custom game for them to make up for my mistake. I said “this mental health can go to hell” (about mine) and that i will come to the hangout regardless of how depressed i felt that day, they declined and then ghosted me. I had been ghosted, restricted and removed for a good two days, then i remembered how one of the stories they posted was about SH and a mention of suicide. Even though i replied offering help and even asking them to just react to my texts if they dont feel like texting me, i still felt extremely guilty because i triggered that split. I also felt scared and partially mad because i had other ex bestfriends who would send me unsolicited SH pics or one that faked suicide over me not giving her attention because i had finals to revise for. My thoughts were telling me to just cut this friendship off Because i no longer have it in me to bear people’s breakdowns. I didnt want to do it out of impulsivity so i dmed and called multiple people about this situation. I have other friends with BPD who supported my decision to cut this friend off and many others said “if i were you id run away”. So i blocked this friend from everywhere, but before doing so i texted them a long text expressing how i dont harbour anything against them despite what them ghosting or restricting me, the majority of my text was expressing gratitude over the time and the things we did together. I also expressed how scared and guilty i was and how i don’t deserve to receive all that treatment because i cancelled. That’s it. I moved on. But later after that i noticed how all of our common friends were blocking and unfollowing me, i felt weird so i unblocked the friend and texted them saying that i blocked them without letting them say anything and that if they had something to say to me id be down to listen in order to get to closure about this whole friendship. They replied saying that they’re disappointed in me, i have no heart or feelings, i should go to hell, etc etc. And about how they just needed a break but i took it too far by cutting them off. They hated that i was quickly able to emotionally detach myself and leave. I explained that i had no clue that what they needed was a break. I also told them that i based how they reacted and treated me on how they were to other friends they hated. They replied “why would you assume that” i said i had nothing else so i jumped into conclusions, i also said that there has been a miscommunication about this whole thing. They told me “you decided to leave so leave, you’re an evil person” and then they blocked me. Fast forward i took a break off social media and just completely went back to isolating myself and rejecting every and each opportunity to see people or to get close to anyone ever. I got flashbacks of them saying that im an evil person each time i try to make a new friendship, go on a date, spend time with my friends and so it goes on. I got haunted by the idea that im a terrible person that should stay as much as possible from others to not hurt them. I was bed rotting, depressed, mad and sorry for myself. Because even if i expressed that i was going through shit they still replied saying that i don’t deserve empathy because im still a hurtful person for cutting them off.
I am writting this to know if im a people pleaser or just a straight up ahole. I want to know what i can better about myself in order to prevent this from happening again, and to stop being haunted by flashbacks of their replies.

TW: mental health and mention of SH.
I’m 22. I have a very bubbly personality, i care deeply about people thats why i invest my time into anyone i befriend. I cope with humor, escapism or isolation.
I keep noticing that the more im helpful, present and giving towards others, the more im subjected to apathy. People tend to hold me into a high standard and immediately dehumanize me once i can’t maintain reaching it.
I recently had a friendship breakup with a good friend of mine after i cancelled last minute to a hangout. They have BPD, they removed me and restricted me from seeing their stories and stopped replying to my texts and calls afterwards. Before removing me from their spam, they posted a good amount of stories talking about how all of their friends aren’t there for them and how lonely they are. In addition they posted a photo of a ruined bouquet of flower they were supposed to gift me during the hangout, they destroyed it because i cancelled. I did so because i was exhausted mentally and needed a break, i tried my best to get my mood up to go meet them but i failed. I took a shower and a nap. Nothing helped. So i texted them cancelling the meeting. That triggered a split within them and they texted me back saying that they wish i told them sooner and that they got flowers for me. I repeatedly apologised and even made a custom game for them to make up for my mistake. I said “this mental health can go to hell” (about mine) and that i will come to the hangout regardless of how depressed i felt that day, they declined and then ghosted me. I had been ghosted, restricted and removed for a good two days, then i remembered how one of the stories they posted was about SH and a mention of suicide. Even though i replied offering help and even asking them to just react to my texts if they dont feel like texting me, i still felt extremely guilty because i triggered that split. I also felt scared and partially mad because i had other ex bestfriends who would send me unsolicited SH pics or one that faked suicide over me not giving her attention because i had finals to revise for. My thoughts were telling me to just cut this friendship off Because i no longer have it in me to bear people’s breakdowns. I didnt want to do it out of impulsivity so i dmed and called multiple people about this situation. I have other friends with BPD who supported my decision to cut this friend off and many others said “if i were you id run away”. So i blocked this friend from everywhere, but before doing so i texted them a long text expressing how i dont harbour anything against them despite what them ghosting or restricting me, the majority of my text was expressing gratitude over the time and the things we did together. I also expressed how scared and guilty i was and how i don’t deserve to receive all that treatment because i cancelled. That’s it. I moved on. But later after that i noticed how all of our common friends were blocking and unfollowing me, i felt weird so i unblocked the friend and texted them saying that i blocked them without letting them say anything and that if they had something to say to me id be down to listen in order to get to closure about this whole friendship. They replied saying that they’re disappointed in me, i have no heart or feelings, i should go to hell, etc etc. And about how they just needed a break but i took it too far by cutting them off. They hated that i was quickly able to emotionally detach myself and leave. I explained that i had no clue that what they needed was a break. I also told them that i based how they reacted and treated me on how they were to other friends they hated. They replied “why would you assume that” i said i had nothing else so i jumped into conclusions, i also said that there has been a miscommunication about this whole thing. They told me “you decided to leave so leave, you’re an evil person” and then they blocked me. Fast forward i took a break off social media and just completely went back to isolating myself and rejecting every and each opportunity to see people or to get close to anyone ever. I got flashbacks of them saying that im an evil person each time i try to make a new friendship, go on a date, spend time with my friends and so it goes on. I got haunted by the idea that im a terrible person that should stay as much as possible from others to not hurt them. I was bed rotting, depressed, mad and sorry for myself. Because even if i expressed that i was going through shit they still replied saying that i don’t deserve empathy because im still a hurtful person for cutting them off.
I am writting this to know if im a people pleaser or just a straight up ahole. I want to know what i can better about myself in order to prevent this from happening again, and to stop being haunted by flashbacks of their replies.

I'm fairly young (16M) and i tend to daydream a lot about random stories since i was younger and i've always wanted to write something, my ideal thing would probably write a story for a videogame but there is a lot more than just that for this so i kind of think of that as just an irrealistical dream and nothing more, but trying to write a short story or a whole novel is closer to being possible for me and i think that i would do quite well if i trained(maybe my english writting isn't that good because it's not my first language but in my native language people tend to compliment the way i write including some of my teachers, even though i know that it's far from amazing or anything like that), however, whatever i think about writting the fact that i haven't lived a lot in my life (and even for a teenager, i barely have a social life outside of my bubble of familly and school basically so even less real world experience than the average teen) and my perfectionism makes me just well... daydream about it but never act it because I'm either researching writting skills or collecting books (a lot of them which i rarely actually read because I'm a huge procrastinator but that i will eventually read... someday) or just trying to have the entirety of my story already "done" in my head and try to fix every issue i found, because i really struggle with accepting failure in fact i act very unhealthily towards it so even if it's certainly going to suck (since i'm a newbie) i at very least don't want to feel like i wasted my time putting effort in something that was bad (and again, i'm very perfectionist with things i care about).
I think this ended up becoming more of a venting post, but, i'd really like advice to overcome my fear of failure and judgement with this, i know that the most obvious ones are "you will never be good if you don't try" and "if you don't do it know you will regret it later" but as i've mentioned these things kind of paralyze me when i actually get motivation to try.

Basically it should be something that helps manage how everything is put together. Maybe something like with graphs or nodes.
Else just writting it in a document its hard to really tell what's happening globally.
I asked gpt, it suggested me trello, which i use daily, but its not very good for this. And got a friend that suggested me bubbl.us . Thats quite a simple app, where you can create these nodes, and write in them.
Any other suggestion?

The View from Oregon – 291
Re: Epistemic Enclaves
Friday 31 May 2024
Dear Friends,
Whether or not we want to explicitly acknowledge it, we know that there are many echo chambers in the world, both large and small. Within these echo chambers, shared values and shared interpretations of history prevail, while these shared values and shared interpretations of history are harder to come by outside echo chambers. Of course it is tendentious of me to use a term like “echo chamber,” which carries a negative connotation; I could just as well call them bubbles, as in, “so-and-so doesn’t even know that he’s living in a bubble.” This is a topic of frequent comment today because of the elaborate bubbles individuals and communities build around themselves through their information consumption habits.
This phenomenon is not limited to news and social media, but extends deep into academia and mainstream scholarship. We would like to believe that there is some common core of reality to which we can all assent, but even this is rarely true. In history, we would like to believe that there is a common set of events that we can agree took place and that this is the skeleton of history, even if we acknowledge that different valuations will be attached to one and the same event. We accept, even if we do not like, that these radically different valuations are attached to the same events, and we accept this as a political reality that individuals who belong to one political camp will have a shared set of values that confers an axiological structure upon events, while another political camp has a different axiological structure that it places on events. At least, most of the time, the events are in common. We might, for example, agree on the date of the Battle of Gettysburg, but disagree over the meaning and the significance of the battle, or of Pickett’s Charge, and so on. Even this minimal criterion of shared events with different interpretations is at present beginning to break down, but I’m not going to focus on this disintegration of a common historical reality, though I wanted to mention it as it needs to be in the background of the many considerations involved in interpretation of history, so that we keep in mind how radical the differences between communities can be.
Instead of referring to these communities as echo chambers, as I did above, I’m going to call them epistemic enclaves. This drives home the point that different communities possess distinct knowledge structures, and these knowledge structures may be different only in trivial ways, but they also may differ in radical ways. Also, I assume that there is a variable degree of overlap between epistemic enclaves, so that some enclaves very nearly coincide, while other enclaves are very near disjoint, while most fall into a more-or-less gray area with some shared knowledge and some knowledge that is not shared. Here I am using “knowledge” loosely to include different meanings and different valuations. This promiscuous usage is intended to capture all manner of differences among epistemic enclaves. Epistemic enclaves are formed by shared stories, and stories are not an agglomeration of facts or beliefs about facts, but facts laden with meaning and value. To alter the meaning or the value is to alter the fact, and therefore to alter the knowledge structure. This is what I want to capture.
The stories we have of societies entire are histories, and histories are often a matter of contention. Often every ethnic group has its own history, as carefully tended as past grudges. Indeed, many of these intensely communal histories consist of little more than a catalog of grudges that a given community has of other communities it has encountered throughout its history as a community. Again, we would like to believe that there is a larger story, a larger history, that can unify diverse groups into some larger historical entity, like a nation-state or a kingdom or such like, and sometimes this is true, while other times it is not. One of the problems here is our dishonest use of political language. This is especially the case with “empire,” which today is almost exclusively a term of abuse. Because it is a term of abuse, we only use it when we want to convey a negative valuation of a political structure. This is makes it difficult to recognize de facto empires, though we implicitly acknowledge that there are de facto empires. For many years now, for many decades, it has been commonplace to refer to a de facto American empire, although the US does not have a de jure imperial political structure.
The existence or non-existence of empires might be taken to be a fact about which different epistemic enclaves disagree, but since the word carries such a strong negative connotation, the fact gets obscured by the valuation. This is unfortunate, because de facto political empires are an important part of the political mixture of the contemporary political scene. What characterizes an empire is an agglomeration of peoples held together by political and military force (holding, with Clausewitz, that war is the extension of politics by other means). A non-imperial political entity is understood to have some basis of cohesion in addition to, or instead of, mere force. In an empire, subject peoples are kept within the political structure by force, or the threat of force, and each maintains their separate history, with no presumption that other subject peoples within the same empire will share their history. They are forced to share a common empire, but they choose not to identify with the empire, but with their parochial history. Each community is an epistemic enclave with its own history.
One of the sore points that occurs repeatedly with empires is with education. An imperial system will dictate, under threat of force, that all children in the empire will attend an official school, in which lessons will be given in the official language, using official textbooks, and official maps. Often the language employed in the school is not the language that the children speak at home, the history lessons differ from the parochial histories of the epistemic enclave, and the maps may have different place names and different borders. Just as an empire will try to impose a common language, an empire will also often impose preferred place names. These need not be complete fabrications. A great deal of plausible deniability can be derived from recurring to some particular set of historical place names that reflect a preferred linguistic and geographical milieu—in other words, an epistemic enclave in time—that is flattering to the empire and its ruling elites. As I noted above, there are many histories available, and an empire can pick the history that best serves its purposes and so give a veneer not only of factuality to its claims, but also the authority of tradition.
Education is at the core of civilization; it is the vehicle that conveys tradition from one generation to the next, and therefore secures the continuity of that tradition. But education can be of many kinds. The children of subject peoples living in an empire will quickly learn that the history they hear at home differs from the history they hear in school. There are several familiar coping strategies for the dilemma imposed. One can draw a sharp distinction between home and school, living two lives, a double life, as it were, one parochial life based on the home, and another imperial life based on the school. Or one can choose one life over the other, sneering at and deriding the rejected option. And it isn’t always the home that wins this battle, though it usually is. The empire represents a connection to the wider world of wealth and influence. Children no less than adults can be ambitious and sense an opportunity. A climber may sense in an imperial school an opportunity to lift himself out of his parochial life, perhaps extending his education by going to the imperial capital for his university education, hoping never to return to his dusty backwater, or, if he returns, to do so as an imperial official, now himself carrying the threat of force that is the writ of empire.
All this may sound rather strange to my American readers, but it happens all over the world. I have spoken to Filipinos who learned Tagalog in school but who speak the language of their home island at home, and to indigenous people in South America who learned Spanish in school but who speak Quechua at home, and of course all throughout eastern Europe during the Soviet period, Russian was the second language taught everywhere. Party-approved textbooks had the implicit imprimatur of Moscow. Today, in the age of the de facto American empire, it is English that is taught everywhere as the second language, though one could argue that this is done for economic reasons rather than being the expression of any imperial project. In the case of the Philippines and Tagalog (or Indonesia and Bahasa), and the fragmented parochial communities of rural Latin America in relation to Spanish, the nation-state is a kind of imperial project that attempts to remake a given social milieu in the image of a nation-state in a world in which the nation-state is the only acceptable political structure. (The few city-states still in existence, like Singapore, are grandfathered in to the nation-state system.) We call political structures nation-states that are manifestly not nation-states in the same way that we refuse to call empires empires.
Our apparent taxonomy of the political structure of the world is a relic of a particular epistemic enclave. State structure is not the fact that we commonly believe it to be, often being more the imposition of a template than the organic expression of what is actually happening on the ground. Epistemic enclaves resist their assimilation to a quasi-imperial project, though not uniformly or all with the same success. The world is a patchwork in which top-down imposition is sometimes terrifyingly effective, and sometimes laughably ineffective.
For decades futurists have written about world government, but this has been seen as just another futurist pipe dream. I’ve written blog posts against the idea (probably pointless, I know), and I personally know sincere advocates of the idea of world government. This is almost an entirely separate beast from the slow and gradual encroachment that is making the next imperial project a de facto world government through the cooperation of elites. It has become a familiar talking point, explicitly announced by at least one speaker at Davos (Ngaire Woods), that elites across national boundaries now trust each other more than ever—and their populations trust the elites less than ever. The disconnect between the elite ruling class and everyone else is becoming a matter of nearly disjoint epistemic enclaves in which the contending factions do not have a common base of knowledge and therefore lack a common basis of communication.
The capture of educational institutions, however, is nearly complete. This is no surprise. Educational institutions have for decades been the training ground for the managerial elites. As these managerial elites emerge from the institutions, and some of them return to run these institutions, the educational institutions are in a very tight spiral of self-reference. They constitute an epistemic enclave that is very nearly hermetically sealed off from the rest of the world, certainly resistant to any reform, and possibly beyond the threshold of reform. Since the capture of educational institutions hasn’t taken the vulgar form of past empires by imposing a uniform language or a uniform textbook, there is still plausible deniability for those entrenched in these institutions that they represent, but no one outside these institutions is fooled by this plausible deniability. In this case, plausible deniability coincides with self-deception.
I wrote above that educational institutions are the core of civilizations. What is being passed along in educational institutions today is not the tradition of any ethnic group, but the luxury beliefs of ruling elites. Those who attend these institutions may go on to join the elites, or they may become counter-elites in the sense that Turchin gives to this term, or they may engage in any of the coping strategies I mentioned above in negotiating some compromise between the tradition that the individual carries and the elite tradition being manufactured in these educational institutions. There are too many moving parts to confidently predict the outcome. Business and industry have an enormous stake in keeping the present institutions intact and in place, but there is a limit to which any society can sustain the disjoint epistemic enclaves of elites and the working class. Also, it is not likely that the same outcome will take shape in geographically distinct regions. I don’t expect, for example, that this tension will play out the same in Europe as it does in North America.
This newsletter is not the newsletter I sat down to write. For one thing, it’s all prologue. I want to make a larger point with the argument I have started here, but as this point is unfolding in my mind it is growing, and I can’t realistically fit it into a single newsletter. So I hope to take up this thread again in another newsletter to come, in which it will (hopefully) be more obvious as to why I favor the term “epistemic enclaves” and what the larger implications are of there being epistemic enclaves. Here I have laid it out almost as a political construct, but that’s not what’s essential to the idea.
Best wishes,
Nick
PS—I have finished listening to How to Think Like a Roman Emperor: The Stoic Philosophy of Marcus Aurelius by Donald J. Robertson, which I previously mentioned in a PS to newsletter 289. The best part of the book was the final section in which the author imaginatively reconstructs the last hours of the life of Marcus Aurelius. This not only illustrates Stoic doctrines in a compelling way, it is, moreover, executed with real literary art. I was impressed.
PPS—I mentioned in the previous newsletter that I had made my chapter from Death And Anti-Death, Volume 21: One Year After James Lovelock (1919-2022), edited by Charles Tandy, “The Life and Death of Habitable Worlds,” available online. I received an invitation to contribute to the next volume, Death And Anti-Death, Volume 22: In Honor Of Saul Kent (First Life Cycle 1939-2023). Saul Kent was on the board of Alcor Life Extension Foundation and is currently cryopreserved by Alcor. Initially I hesitated over this, as I wasn’t sure if I had anything relevant to say about cryonics, but, once I thought about it, I realized many ways in which I could connect this theme to my current research interests, so I agreed to write a chapter for the volume, and I am now working on “Cryogenic Eschatology: The Cosmological Trajectory of Life and Death.”
PPPS—Seneca’s account of living over a gym (from Epistulae Morales ad Lucilium, letter LVI):

“I have lodgings right over a public bathhouse. Now imagine to yourself every kind of sound that can make one weary of one’s years. When the strenuous types are doing their exercises, swinging weight-laden hands about, I hear the grunting as they toil away—or go through the motions of toiling away—at them, and the hissings and strident gasps every time they expel their pent up breath. When my attention turns to a less active fellow who is contenting himself with an ordinary inexpensive massage, I hear the smack of a hand pummeling his shoulders, the sound varying according as it comes down flat or cupped. But if on top of this some ball player comes along and starts shouting out the score, that’s the end! Then add someone starting up a brawl, and someone else caught thieving, and the man who likes the sound of his voice in the bath, and the people who leap into the pool with a tremendous splash.”

Reading this is one of those moments when I feel the collapse of the intervening two thousand years and it seems that nothing at all has changed. I often say that we can read the ancients like our contemporaries, and this is an example of that contemporaneity.

Newsletter link:

https://mailchi.mp/8c64f916dbb0/the-view-from-oregon-291
​

As I see the last vestiges of my home burn behind me and the vessels of other escapees conflagrate all around me, only one thought permeates my mind: what a horrible species.
My people had lived for thousands of solar cycles by themselves, bound to the ground of our birth world. My people had then spent thousands of cycles soaring through the endless sky between stars. My people are now dying.
Our first contact with the species known as "humans" dates to a couple of hundred cycles after we had become spacefarers. They were mighty, their numbers were great, and their age was shocking, their words were thunder, and could be understood even without speaking their tongue. Their vessels were bigger than anything we had made. Shaped like the mighty pillars of our temples, they shone bright under the light. Their engines dwarfed fleets of our fledgling spacefaring vessels, they traced lines across the stars as a blade does through flesh, their swiftness unparalleled. They were fleeing in fear, dreading their own lands and their own creations, swearing they'd not fight us, and would even surrender their lives if it meant that they could be granted peace, even in the form of a temporary reprieve.
We were shocked, for we found that we weren't alone in this galaxy, but we also found that our "neighbours" weren't that close to us, were much more advanced, and were full of fear.
We welcomed them, promised them no violence nor hatred. They were as gods in power, but were as lost hatchlings in spirit. For thousands upon thousands of more cycles we had taken care of them, and they had taught us, their secrets, ours, their mighty, ours - when we finally reached them as equals, it was the beginning of a golden age for my people. All that had plagued us slowly disappeared: hunger, conflicts, all the massive struggles that had been our spark to act, smothered. It took time, but we learned to do what we did, to keep living as we had done, not out of cravings, but out of love for life. We gazed at the universe with golden eyes full of wonderment - the humans never truly did. The oldest of them all always looked at the sky with dread and fear, their shoulders slumped, their brows frowning, their eyes wide with alertness. As generations passed, and even the oldest of the humans faded into memory, something always remained off about them, like an existential fear, the weight of consequences yet to come, constantly casting a shadow over their joy.
My people claimed for themselves planet after planet, first all the celestial bodies orbiting our own beloved star, with droves and swarms of vessels gutting every asteroid we could. Then we learned from the humans' ancient ark how they had managed to travel the void between stars. It took many tries, failures, and sacrifices, but we learned to reproduce the arcane technology behind their ships. Eventually our vessels flew over worlds upon which the light of suns that weren't ours shone.
We seeded outposts, we tried colonies far away from our home, we learned on our skin how to adapt our society to the demands that the distance, both physical and cultural, imposed upon the colonists.
We endured these struggles we willingly faced, we overcame them, and we grew stronger from them. Challenge after challenge, we grew, we advanced, joyful in the freedom our advancements had brought us. Yet the humans kept wary, each generation keeping their forebears' wariness towards the stars, looking in the direction of their long abandoned birthplace. Mighty people they were, and mighty people they remained, yet we equaled them. As equals we could all feel that something was wrong, but not in what they did, but in what they knew, and didn't reveal. Nonetheless, our polity prospered, our struggles were being buried in the past, and a bright future shined upon us - and it kept shining for a long, long time.
We had thousands of years of peace and quiet. We explored, yes, but our explorations were deep, were complex, and were thought out. We first fully understood everything that our own world had to offer, then all those of our solar system, then of the various colonies we had created, our domain was small, yet solid. The humans we had welcomed so long ago always were beside us, warning us of things we were close to finding out. In hindsight, they acted very much like herders, and corralled us with their technological knowledge away from certain discoveries. I realise it only now because of how much of a difference there is between "our" humans, and the others that came. Because of course more humans came.
A day like any other, enjoying the beauty of an advanced society and its benefits, strange and massive vessels came. A massive fleet, counting hundreds upon hundreds of ships, most small, simple and angular in shape. A few vessels resemble in shape the creatures that populated one of our ocean colonies, long hulls, with many leg-like appendages. Their greatest one was more akin in shape to a sea faring vessel, with a massive ventral fin extending downward as long as the ship itself was. They eclipsed all our vessels, and even dwarfed the human ark, now a monument to times past.
I was among the ones that volunteered for a diplomatic mission. For the first time in dozens of cycles I was feeling actually tense, maybe a tinge of fear too. I had a few humans with me too. As our shuttle took off our homeworld and accelerated towards the fleet, some of ours were truly delighted, and some were filled with dread. Since our two species met, no other contact had been made with a sentient species. We communicated with the new arrivals using the language the humans used when they first arrived - "AllTongue" they call it, something that speaks in concepts and only in truths. We were given coordinates in return. Once we had arrived, we were met by a little station, pavilion-like, floating in place. Waiting for us beside it, was what the new arrivals used as their shuttle; the ship was linear too, bulky yet sleek.
Once near the pavilion, they entered one of the hangars that belted the station, and we did so too.
Inside there was artificial gravity, slightly lighter than the one of our home world. A cursory analysis revealed that the station not only had air, but also that it was perfectly breathable. Lights delineated a path for us to follow towards the centre of the station. We still remained with our suits on. Some writs appeared here and there, small signs in an alphabet none of us understood. "A new contact, so exciting" I thought to myself. Fool.
We reached a large circular room after just a few minutes of walking. Inside there were five massive figures, covered in great carapaces. They bore resplendent armaments, and their carapaces were built of bright plates that seemed made of light itself, dimmed and given form.
I took a risk and took off my helmet, as a gesture of good will. From one of the figures came a short sound, which was quieted as the central one raised their hand. Then the central carapace opened. Out walked a lithe, fleshy entity, much shorter without their suit - a human. All my companions, me included, gasped. It was a human male, indistinguishable from our own, bar for one thing: his eyes. The other figures took off what I understood now was their helmets. Men and women they were, humans all. And all their eyes had this specific glare, a kind of sight my species hasn't used outside of rituals for a long time - they were the eyes of a hunter and a killer, and they were eyeing us at that moment in an effort to understand how much of a threat we would be. Only the unsuited one was different. His eyes had the same pitiful look one has before doing something they hate, but have to do. My companions then took off their own helmets.
The result was not what we were anticipating. The centre figure, most likely their leader, let out a tired scoff at the sight of our humans. He even glanced at the guards he had brought with himself. "Do we really have to do this?" he clearly thought. One of my companions tried to begin conversing, but one of our humans overtook him and asked first: "How's our home (world)?". He referred to Earth, the world we had heard stories about, a world at the centre of a hegemony that spanned in every direction for tens of thousands of light years.They had left it when the hegemony was in its dying throes, from terrible calamities spawned from within. When a terran referred to it, the word always carried a heavy inflection of longing, regret, and love.
"Dead." answered the unsuited human using the AllTongue. The concepts that came from those words were not even of sorrow, but of a sort of faithful reverence, like one has towards ancient stories, legends, or foundation myths. This worried me, these humans weren't terrans like ours. The terrans were wracked by shock and sorrow, and the newcomers remained stone faced. The unsuited one extended his arm rightward, and one of his posse passed him a wide and long item. He showed it towards us: "This is not a weapon." he said in AllTongue. It was a scabbard, and slowly he pulled out a blade. It wasn't a weapon indeed, the edges were so dulled they couldn't have cut even our suits. Not dulled, chipped, etched - as if with tally marks - and bore the same strange letters we had seen on our way there. The suited newcomers closed their helmets. The unsuited took a deep breath, as one does before reading something, and instead loudly sighed, and sheathed the lettered blade.
"Half your planetary rotation. That's how long you have. Then the fleet will burn your worlds. Do not fight. Die or flee, nothing stops the eternal march of our people."
The newcomer stepped back into the suit.
"Go now. Or stay and join the many dead."
The five turned around, and made to get out of the room. "Why? For what reason?" asked a terran.
Four armoured ones kept walking, the leader stopped and turned to face us one last time. His helmet opened, and his eyes told me he had even more sorrow than before.
He opened his mouth, but no single coherent concept came out. Instead it was a tale of regret and sins of the past. A story of an unbreakable will to right them, and prevent them from ever happening again, at the cost of any and every cruelty against all variables that may interfere with this endless plan. We were a variable in their eyes, nothing more. His helm closed, and he disappeared behind closing bulkheads.
The shock quickly wore off, and we ran back to our shuttle.
Even as we started our flight, our sensors picked massive energy signatures from the fleet. More ships were materialising in, they were neither the small ones that swarmed around the main behemoths, nor more behemoths themselves. Still enormous in size, these new ships bore the shape of an elongated casket. Even with our weak sensors we could see all the weapon ports. The engines of the ships already there too had started to slowly crawl towards our homes. The trails they left behind eerily reminiscent of the terran ark's.
Our return trip was in silence, bar for the status reports about the ship, and for the initial warning message we had sent to our people.
We found the old terran ark brought back to life, and as we flew down to the planet's surface, it flew past us, aimed not for the space between stars, but towards the incoming fleet. Some terran had decided they'll run no longer.
Upon landing, I found that a massive electronic attack had been waged upon the colony during our return trip. Nothing had been managed, but every single piece of data our civilization had on ourselves had been plundered, mainly and firstly, the location of all our colonies and settlements, in this and every other system.
I scurried to gather my kith and kin, and packed them into one of the shuttles we used to visit relatives on in-system colonies. We took as many supplies as we could, and took flight for the jumpships parked at the edge of the system, further away from the newcomers. Just like that the hours had passed, and the fleet had reached all the settled planets and planetoids within our star's gravity well.
A long range observation system was transmitting a live feed of the ark's last stand. It wielded weapons we never knew it had, nor the humans had ever shared. Bright lances of pure energy, thrown into space, facing a direction and hitting in another. Massive gravitic bubbles spawned and collapsed unto themselves, small black holes instantly crushing everything cut within their event horizon.
Yet for all of the ark’s firepower, the fleet simply flew by it. Every weapon was caught up in an impossible duel against the greatest of the newcomer ships, whose barrages of attacks matched and countered every shot the ark could take. Every last particle crushed, even alteration in gravity abjured and overwhelmed. One near miss at a time, the ark found itself stripped of armour, sections completely cut away, covered in burning lines and gashes. Eventually its own shine faded, and started to drift silently.
Other hordes of shuttles were flying besides ours, all bound for the jumpships.
The panic and fear of extinction had already started to set in, to the point that the crew of a jumpship had to kill their own captain and officers because they wanted to jump without anyone and to run away.
We managed to reach one, and find an anchoring spot. Many others flocked to us, eventually space ran out, and I saw points one which had multiple shuttles mag-locked onto each other in a stacked tower, even hundreds of them. I refused to look at any data regarding the fate of our planets, we knew only from theory how many gruesome ways can a starship deliver death from above, and I was interested in bearing witness to none of them.
Hours passed, as more evacuation vessels arrived, a message in AllTongue overtook all networks.
“Proceed.”
This single word and concept was pure weaponised panic. It exuded the aura of finality, of an execution, of an order from which one cannot escape.
As this word was heard, beams of energy hugged one of the jumpships. With a flash of light, it was gone. Small pieces of debris are the only thing that tells there was ever a starship there.
The loud humming of the fold drive activating reverberates through the entire vessel. I finally cave in, and pull up a feed from one of the remaining satellites we have in-system. Massive columns of light and energy pierce my world. Beams rain endlessly from the casket-ships, burning one by one all the settled asteroids, and carving deep scars on planetary surfaces.
I can see the seas evaporate in front of my eyes, deserts turning to grass, and jungles turning to cinder.
Space begins to fold around the jumpship.
One other message arrives, I want to shut it off, but it can’t be cut out.
“We will find you.”This is a promise, this is a threat, this is our doom.
As I see the last vestiges of my home burn behind me and the vessels of other escapees conflagrate all around me, only one thought permeates my mind: what a horrible species.

I recently posted this response comment to someone asking what the name of the new em album would be. I went a little overboard and shared what I thought would be a solid project from Eminem.
Im sure I missed some great ideas/concepts so I am posting this again here.
What are some things would like see on the new project that you would think will make for a great album? And what are some things you hope will remain out?
With Eminem is a story teller above all. I think this is why he can be as technically great as can be but will flop is he doesn't have much to say or if he can't coherently put his ideas in one conceptual project.
And right now, I believe he has a lot to say.
topics id be interested listening to are:
1 - Personal / Family issues or lessons learned. EM always does well when it comes to making songs of certain things that are happening in his life. We won’t get “Cleaning out my closet” “mockingbird” or “I am” but thats okay, thats young eminem then sharing that point in time. He is older now with his own family. Maybe a song about his daughters maturing, his dad passing who he never met, aging mom, his own acceptance with death down the road. This is the “heartfelt” song and what I really like about him as an artist. Personal diary type tracks.
2 - His take on the Big 3. I would like to hear a song sharing his opinion and experiences. i’m not saying he has to fully get in the ring or take sides. I think EM has a lot of respect for the younger technically skilled artists and understands that there is a new generation to battle it out but it would interesting to see him chime in and give his 2 sense on the matter. Even if simply coming from a place of wisdom.
3 - Slim Shady tracks. This is where eminem gives you visuals through story telling . I want full balistic crazy horror shit re-lapse style verses. I wouldn't mind if he brought back the accent for these songs ONLY. Considering the name of the album, there may be a story incorporating a death scene.
4 - 50 cent collab track(s) - they do well together and can easily make hit records (never enough, jimmy crack corn, crack a bottle). I also heard that 50 sounded/performed great at Coachella this year so he is ready. This is maintream radio song where he let loose and have fun.
EDIT: This one is confirmed :)
5 - Em ft younger artists - Doomsday pt 2 music had plenty of cameos so im really curious how he handle projects with JID, Cordae, Babytron, & Denzel Curry. I would like newer sounding/style beats that cater to younger artists here to see how Em delivers(metro boomin??)
6 - Prhyme Collabs for the hip-hop heads - It would be sick if he got back on the track with Royce and just technically slaughtered over Dj. Premier beats. This is where he would go full technical MC mode and type of tracks this community will be discussing.
7 - The Fire Back Diss Track. While EM has had a relatively quiet year in regards to putting out new material, there were plenty of well known people that placed him in the news simply due to their conversations about Eminem. (Dr.Umar, Benzino, Kurupt, other young rappers). He did this on EZMil’s Realest ft but I think he has a lot more to say.
8 - His age and time in the game. Since he is one of the only artists that remain at this level of relevancy at 51, I would like to hear his take of how he feels when it comes to “aging in the rap game.” This will be the “i am addressing the World and Hip Hop/Rap community.” This could be a great ending track if done well. Im basically asking for a Walk On Water Re-Do here. I liked the concept then but I just thought it was poorly delivered.
9 - Project with Tyler the Creater - This one I can take it or leave it but considering their history and controversy which are pretty much over as I believe they on good terms now, It would be interesting to see what the concept of a joint record will be from two highly creative story tellers.
Okay, this is briefly what I don’t want to appear
1 - Political shit. It only worked on White America because it was relatable to him
2 - The ft. Rhianna song(love song) - Not saying they were bad but they aren't personally my favorite.
3 - The conceptual pop song (think Ft Ed Sheeran or Beyonce joint) - I just think these are garbage and Eminem does not neet them to bring in numbers.
4 - Lazy/corny writting - i dont think it happens too often but after his last one, he doesn't have much room for mistakes. Another really bad album and it will be time to throw in the towel.
5 - His viewpoint on “Mumble” rappers - We get it already.
6 - Uncalled for shots at pop artists - It was great when he was younger but I think he should leave this one out now. You are an adult, only take shots at them if they deserve it. Like he can rap about ths Diddy contreversy or something like that.
That's what im hoping for at least.
But for now, we wait.......

So looking for advice on Moms on both sides of this issue. I have a 5 year old- soon to be 6 on Kinder. The school is saying he is on that threshold academically where he could be ready for 1st grade or could benefit for a “lap year” (aka repeating kindergarten). They said he has not mastered everything and specially struggles with writting but also with following directions.
Some background; I am a middle school teacher so I see behaviors in my kid that strongly remind me of my ADD students. My kid is very smart on subjects that interest him, but lacks attention with everything else. I have talked to his pediatrician about it and we are basically monitoring him (he is too young right now for a diagnosis).
So I am struggling a lot with the idea of holding him back since academically they say he’s in that bubble. I saw the numbers of the assessments and I see it like I can get him tutors and stuff to get him where he needs to be academically. But the director of the program stressed on the fact that he struggles to follow directions and pay attention and that a lap year would benefit him. I just don’t see if he is ADD how holding him back will do something that I can’t accomplish with therapy, tutoring and tools
Am I a horrible parent if I push him along? I am completely willing to do the work with him to close the gap…
The school is saying right now is the time to do it… when he’s still young. But I also struggle with the fact that he is soo tall it will be super obvious he was held back and that will create a social stigma…
I’m just rambling at this point… I wanted to hear from mommas who pushed them through and mommas who held them back? Pros? Cons?

So basically, it was friday. About 9pm and I decided: Im going to order a beyblade. I decided it was gonna be, either a Big Bang Pegasus or a flame libra. Or a ray striker (I love Masamune :P). I decided with a Ray striker because everyone hates the character but I absolutely love the character! It arrived Monday! I am in a college residence and all packages have to pass by the reception. They are all slimy no life petty sad shallow retards who say hello to you every morning with a pretty face but dont talk to you about anything that you are doing wrong directly and just mock you behind your back! Anyway... I spent all weekend thinking about it! I did my studying, my shopping, my reading, my writting, my running... my bed rotting, my ruminating, my boredom catastrophising all while looking forward to when I would become 11 years old all over again. When the package arrived, I was not home. I came back home excited and feeling at home like never before. At the time, I felt very lonely, but I knew that when I had that spining top in my hands, I was going to become trully alone. The best kind of alone possible. I get to the receptionist. I act my cheerful self and ask for my key not planning to do much small talk, but suddently one of the slimier ones... they... shake it slightly, they try to rip a bit of the wrapping off and take a peek, right in front of me. They ... analyze it (I guess that was what they were doing...) and then ask, with the most accusatory body language and tone someone can blast you with in a single burst: "Hummmmm... whats in this package, young man?". I politely reply: "Its none of your business!". They then insist and are like: "We are responsible for this residence and you should obey! Act your age! What is it?" I was starting to get slightly absolutely livid, but I somehow found it easy to keep my composure because I knew exactly how to reply: "Its a toy! And its mine! Now give it back! A boys gotta play! Shish... god forbid men do ANYTHING!" I took it from them and said: "Have a good day!" And left to my room. When I got there, I put my stuff in its place, got some scissors, and unpacked my beyblade. I did not even know where I could use the damn thing... All the floor in this building was either very small tiles of marble or wood full of splinters. But I simply could not care less. I kept unpacking it, and then there was the cardboard and the transparent plastic. It came with a launcher, that weird tool used to assemble and disassemble. The launcher was baby blue and when I saw that green energy ring, I felt alone like never before. Greatness? Glory? Women? Attention? Praise? What? I decided to dedicate my following two hours of studying to my ray striker, the most Based beyblade, from the most based man and trully the main character of all of beyblade, Masamune Kadoya. I eventually got hungry. I remembered I had pizza in the freezer on the first floor, so I decided to then pack up my beyblade (not my phone. My beyblade! Because phones are just like toys, except they rot your brain. I should really ditch my current one and get a flip phone... Anyway I digress), my utensils and forks and my other eating tools (why "eating tools"? because fuck vocabulary and fuck the english language. Speaking english well is honestly kinda boring if you ask me. Its not my even my main language anyway. Its not my responsibility. Why should I care? I should CONSCIOUSLY speak english with an accent from now on. I even do it sometimes when talking to newly met strangers, and it feels... almost rejuvenating. And like people say in my country: "Let them suck my left one, because my right one is busy!") And then climb all the way to the third floor kitchen. So I arrive at the kitchen and put my soup in the microwave. I want you to guess who was in that kichen. I will give you one minute to think very hard about it. It was... Neenee!!!!!!!!!! So anyway she also was with her boyfriend and they were talking about... idk.. politics and science and traditions and parental expectations and all that shit I gave like no cares about. I then slapped my soup in the microwave and waited. But there is NO WAY I was just gonna wait for my soup while bored! I took the... device from my bag, I find a place far from scratchable things. In my mind: "3...2...1... LET IT RIP!" So I let it rip on my baby blue ripcord launcher and then... just stared at... it, crouching with my back away from the other two people previously mentioned. It spun so fast, It was kinda noisy, It was small, it was colorful. I felt... sooooooooooooooooo alone. My god I just felt like sleeping. I also chose the third floor because, although there are some pretty anoying, cringe and stuck up girls in here (I mean... ALL girls are pretty cringe and anoying. I mean to be fair that also goes with men... In retrospective people usually are pretty insufferable, specially nowdays... Anyway), All that uptightness has some practical benefits for me because the kitchen ia allways pretty clean, which means no overbearing smells or crums everywhere, and... no gunk on the lines between the tiles on the marble floor! Then... it stopped spinning. So I let it rip again! (In a nuanced and intelectually mature kinda way ofc :P) and then... my soup was done. So I just picked it up and my soup and went to the table I "landed on" to eat. And then... that annoying... LIFO data strucure, that borderline SCANIA cab, that absolute biblically incorrect angel Neenee, as I munch on my soup (which was kinda bad ngl... It was from lidl, it was processed, it was 2.78 euros for 400 ml and when I burped it, it felt like soda for some reason.), Slams her hands on the table and looks at me with her signature move: "Tsundere cringe alt bully dead face". I looked at her boyfriend and told him like: "Hey! keep her away from me! She almost made me almost spill my soup!" Her boy-boy then comforted her and she was like: "Im so sorry sweetie!!! Life gets so overwhelming sometimes and.... and... tears on her face I just... dont know how much more of this i could possibly take! Its like nobody in this universe gets me! But you are special! Lets talk about communism ok?" I then finish my soup. I then unpack the pizza and put it in the microwave. 6 whole minutes to have fun!!!! So I let it rip AGAIN!!!!!!!! I then hear Neenee absolutely going on a TEAR on her best performance talent ever: "Bawling her beautiful green eyes out and screeching." She allways says everytime someone talks about religion : "Hehe! When I die I will go to hell! Im too much of a rebel for these robots of the machine to contain me! Screw this christian catholic pedo priest bullshit!!!!" I then say to myself when I hear it: "Back to your origins, I guess...". Man... but this alone feeling... When I look at the red performace tip, the fusion wheel with the 3 blades and the energy ring... I feel... alone. Safe. Then it stops spinning. So I let it rip, again. Neenee then gets off her chair and goes up to the corner I was crouching on from earlier and says this on my left ear: "Anal?" Like a normal person I ask: "What?" She then says: "YOU WISH!" Her boyfriend then started absolutely ROFLing hysterically. She then walks back to her boyfriend and high fives him, taking another sip from the wine she was drinking as she sits back down, crossing her legs. I just stay in the corner. Then, when my pizza is done, I wait for my blade to stop, take the pizza out, eat it, taking breaks between each slice to CSGO inspect my ray striker (looks soo beautiful with the crappy, nausea causing flourescent lighting from the kitchen). Everytime I look at its energy ring and... its face bolt, I feel...my most lonesome, my most... nurtured. My most... real self. I then pack everything up, and before I leave, I say: "Goodnight, Neenee".
So I was back from college at the residence. I grabbed my keys after greeting the staff and went upstairs to my room. I put my stuff down, took care of intake and fluids and solids, booted up my computer. I resumed something I was working on yesterday: Implementing my first Red-Black Tree class in java. (I know they are like mediocre AVL trees, but I simply love them for some reason). I then got hungry and went to get food. I some pizza and some soup of a lidl store just down the street and came back. I also have a beyblade toy in my room I had bought a few days ago. People will never understand. They think they are so serious with their science, and politics, and psychology, and whatever the f*** they like to talk about all the damn time. I carried my forks ,and my knives, and my spoons and other food consuming helper gadget devices up the stairs into the 3rd floor. Up there: in the kitchen. There was somebody in there: Who could it be???!!!!! You know it!! Its Marisa from the law faculty right next to the residence! Shes pretty cool... Kinda boring but... ANYWAY I started heating up my soup and got into a corner where my beyblade would not scratch or break anything (that is a legit possibility! I have a ray striker and that crap comes with a rubber flat! When I spin it, it sometimes goes CRAZY!!!!!). Soups done! Munching time! Then... As I was slurping on my soup (I mean... even if I did try to eat it with my spoon, I would technically still be slurping... its soo thin! Its got no consistency! Its just water!), This time, the woman, the myth, slay queen godess of...BRO STOP GLAZING! GET ON WITH IT! ok FINE! NEENEE, pulls up. Neenee comes with her boyfriend. They sit down and stuff. I finish my soup. I then put my pizza in the microwave and let it rip! Man... I love watching it spin. But....look at it go! It wants to hit something soo bad! Neenee then comes up behind me and tells me: "Are you really still playing with stupid toys? Act your age!" I ignore her. "Hey! Listen to me, you nerd loser! Get a life! Watching you hunched in a corner like this is giving me the second hand chills and the cringies!" I reply: "Yeah... yeah... is there something productive you wanna tell.....me...hey! Where did she go?" She was gone. So I turn back to my striker which had already stopped. But... next second, I turn my head back and HER FACE WAS MILIMETERS FROM MINE! (I felt kinda turned on, not gonna lie!) And then she violently steps back and PULLS OUT..... A BEYBLADE?????!!!!!! "That is not a beyblade! That is a toddlers toy! THIS is a REAL beyblade!" Her bey was a variares! Her boyfriend then gets up and gets to the kitchen door. Before leaving, he says: "Loser! Finish eating and meet us at room 359! Knock 3 times. Bring that with you! Sayonara!" Neenee then looked at me, smirked and then left giggling. I then ate, washed the dishes, put stuff back in the freezer and my room.Then went to room 359. I knocked 3 times and they opened. I got in. It smelled sooo much like...the man juice and some ... other thing that I did not know what it was. They were both wearing only underwear and I was kinda scared and intimidated. She yelled to her boyfriend: "sweetie... BRING IT OUT!" her boyfriend... okai that is it he has a name the poor bloke! Im gonna call him Cristiano Ronaldo! Ronaldo then brings a BEYSTADIUM AND SMACKS IT ON THE FLOOR! Neenee then says, smirking playfully: "Nononononono! This is no good! BOTH OF YOU WALKING HOSES! STAND ASIDE! LET THIS GIRLBOSS COOK!" Then, she presses a button hidden behind her bed and the floor opens up! Its a hole about 1 and a half meters in diameter! What the hell is happening?! Then a STADIUM STARTS RISING FROM UNDER! I then ask, almost in shock: "How do you have time to build this?! Who let you build this???!!!!" She just replies: "My dear friend... its never been about how much time you have. ITS ALLWAYS ABOUT HOW MUCH TIME YOU USE! And those staff are VERY dense!" Then...Neenee... just yells: "YOU! LETS BATTLE!" She then drives her arm forward, holding her bey in my face. Her expression gave me chills and crushing pressure, I was still... nervous. She... was still wearing... only underwear. I was still... so *ing confused. Her boyfriend was just staring at me with a serious face... also....still only in underwear. I barely know how beyblades work... I watched some videos about it to relax at night but... what the hell... it all went from programming, to annoying wet blanket personalities to "omg I have to remember how to do a flower pattern now!" in like two hours. But then... I just thought: "* it!" And yelled: "YOU ARE GOING DOWN, B**** PRINCESS! LETS DO THIS!" Neenee then took her variaries, and put it to her heart. She looked silently at me, with eyes of an eagle, for a good part of two minutes. She then, suddently, lowers her head and drops her arm like it was made of rope.Waits a second and looks at me with full open eyes and an all-teeth-visible smirk. I was paralized. She then snaps out of it into a relaxed, casual pose. She then asks: "Wanna try some special pills I made? Its goooooooooooood stuff!" I was genuenly worried for my life. Her boy friend was now right on my back and just when I snapped back, she was gone. She suddently appears on my side saying: "Here! Its for you! I made this one with care. Please take it. For me, you are now officiallu the same height as me, comrade! Join me!" I asked: "What.... is it..... made.... of?" Neenee calmly then says: "Me and my boyfriend were on vacation at the amazon rain forest once and we came across some really good stuff! Red and white mushrooms from super mario! We just went on a munching spree. From that day on, I was not an atheist anymore. And I dont want anyone else to be either. I am now a christian and the princess of God. You wont regret it. Lets go to heaven together" I asked: "Did you munch on toxic mushrooms? How are you NOT DEAD???!!!!!! No offense, of course" Neenee replied: "Jesus chose me to be his princess. I just barely did not die because I was his pride and joy. Me and boyboy collected like 20 of them, put them in a blender, dried them a bit, turned them into a thick paste and used some used pill capsules. Sigh.... pussies that dont swallow the capsules....." "B....But-" "But implies alternative. But you are the bottom of the stack. You are the keeper in the penalty shootout. You are a NIL node of a Binary Tree. CRISTIANO HOLD HIM!" "WAIT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???!!!!!" "GET THE WATER RONALDO!" "I CANT, PRINCESS! HE WILL JUST RUN AWAY! LETS MAKE HIM CHEW!" After some of the most scary moments in my life, resisting, kicking, screaming for help and with Ronaldo restraining me, culminating with Neenee literally tricking me with a possibility of a kiss to then pry her fingers inside my mouth and force it open, just after Ronaldo had handcuffed me, she jammed one into my mouth, clamped my jaws shut as hard as she could and then, said: "To achieve true bliss, sometimes you have to swallow some really tough pills. Its not personal. Its my mission. You either swallow it or we have problems, ok? One will not kill you. I even promisse that your life will change forever" So... I swallowed it. I then asked: "What... is this going to do to me?! What awaits me?! Tell me! Im scared! Are you trying to poison me?!" Neenee just replies: "Everything is okay now. Get ready to battle." He will join me in battle, I will kill him and then I will join him in heaven when I go out Then, Cristiano Ronaldo got a pill from... an actual blister aluminum foil full with them! They are actually professional drug dealers! Oh my god, someone tell me this is not real! Anyway... he got the pill, put it in his mouth, then slowly came up to Neenee, who gently caressed his face, softly rubbed her hands on and delicately blew on his arms, abdominal area and groin. Then stood up and uttered with tears on her face: "My... beloved!" Ronaldo replies: "Princess!" Then they kiss for a few seconds with Cristiano delivering the pill from his tongue to hers, so she could have it. Most based way to take drugs to be honest... She then kept kissing him and then hugged him, then slowly stepped away, But as I was witnessing that, I was thinking. "I had sworn to my family, my psychiatrist, my psychologist, my brother, my friends, myself I would NEVER do ANYTHING like this. I guess that now I really dont have anything to lose... I am actually the bottom of the stack now." Then, we got ready to do it. She was aimimg her launcher. I was aiming mine. It waa time. 3... 2.... 1.... LET IT RIP! "GOOOO STRIKER!!!!!! TEAR THAT VIPER APPART!!!!!" "SLAY THAT MONSTER AND SEND HIM TO HEAVEN VARIARIES!!!!!!!" The beys run at each other like trains and when they clash it sounds like a plane had crashed right outside the window. After a few moments when the smoke cleared, her bey was running around like crazy all over the dish, going so fast that it started to smell like burned plastic. "GOO AGAIN, VARIARIES!!!!! ATACK MODE!!!!!" I thought: "Atack mode???!!!!! was she not already in it???!!!!!!! GRRRRR!!!!!!!!" Then shouted: "GOOO STRIKER!!!!!" I somehow guess her next move and intercepted it. There was another explosion and sparks and striker is sent flying! I looked desperate at it up there, but it landed on the stadium. Variaries had slowed down. "Striker! FUUUUUUULLLL FOOOOORRRRCE!!!!!!!" I then attacked Neenee relentlessly and repeatedly. "AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN! AGAIN!" I attacked, attacked and attacked from all angles, trying to free myself from shame. Neenee them said: "Not bad! I was actually hoping your attacks would do anything, though..." I got angry: "SHE IS BLUFFING!!!!!!!!! ATTACK HARDER AND SHE WILL BREAK!!!!! TEAR HER TO SHREDS!!!!!!!" My slams got more frequent and more violent, and I even saw a shred of metal fly off. But... it was from MY Striker! She then looked at me, calmly and smiled, gently and peacefully. She swang her arm. Her variaries then took an hit from me and did. Not. Budge. It then zipped into the edge of the arena and started going faster, faster and faster. It kept speeding up for 4 consecutive minutes until it got so hot it was glowing red and the stadium now contained a crimson, bright, glowing ring contouring it and a lone, quiet, green bey at the center. Then Cremation by Yakui the Maid started playing and there could not be a better song. The chaotic, manic laughter from Neenee, my panic that was consuming me, her Variaries zipping around the stadium sounded like an angry and twisted Angle grinder equipped with a RIMAC engine, digging violently into the stadium. I was desperate. There was a cloud of gas, colorless, odorless, tasteless gas around me. It did not want to harm me, it did not insult me or validate me or encourage me or guide me or even comunicate with me. It was swallowing me. My striker was slowing down. Her variaries was speeding up. All I saw around Neenee was a distorted hellscape, full of magma, fire and sparks. All I felt around me was cold shivers. More blobs of gas started separating themselves from me, I was getting weaker and feeling dizzier and dizzier. Felt my soul staring back, coldly and distantly. I had lost hope. Myeloma from Yakui the Maid started playing. All I felt was slow and nauseating degeneration. I was getting 10 years older every minute. Then, Neenee, like a predator, Struck me with full force. Variaries had been speeding up for 10 minutes straight, allways at the same rate, like she just found some physics cheat code. "VARIARIES! SPECIAL MOVE! DRAAAAAAGON SLAAAAYEEEER!!!!!!" Her bey crashed into mine. I could not hear anything. The dark had replaced all my blood, but also swore to god that my eardrums were on the verge of bursting. I felt like I was hit by an actual mortar. But, when the smoked cleared, Neenee was on her knees, sweating, gasping for air uncontrollably. Her variaries was wobbling. My striker...... was.... also wobbling. If Neenee normally acts completly insane, then she completly gave in to the itch in one of her shoulders and decided to keep going. She proceeded to immediatly throw up and then, suddently, her skin turned white snow pale. Then... she slowly got up with a emotionless expression and when she was fully standing, she immediatly bursted in uncontrolable laughter for a solid 20 consecutive seconds hugging herself looking at the walls, me, the window... everywhere, really. Then... she said: "NOW its going to get fun!" The bubbles of gas then stopped running away. They all started comming back and as they joined my body, they fused with my blood. They had went to all the corners of the world collecting every single bit of strenght every single one of my off and online friends and loved ones in the planet could give me, I remembered my past, I remembered my special place. Then, I absorbed the nutrients of every single emotion I was repressing up to this point. Shame, stress, hatred, confused anger, fear.... Then, when I was ready to fight back, I yelled: "ANYWAY!..... ITS TIME FOR AN EARTH SHATTERING BANG! STRRIIIIIIIKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!! ABSORB ME! USE ALL OF ME! DESTROY HER!!!!!! SEND HER TO SPACE! SPECIAL MOVE! CYCLONE OF MADNESS SMASH!" Then, Striker understanding me perfectly, started draining all my life force from me, acting on its own but for my sake at the same time. ALLL that I had ever lived or seen or experienced was coming back! I was consumed by unnimaginable might! Then... I yelled: "GOOO!!!!!!" Striker started zooming around the stadium so fast it smelled like a race track then, it jumped 10 stories into the air and came back down crashing! Neenee then got on her knees with her eyes almost popping off the sockets and breathing heavy, screamed downwards and directly from her own depths: "LETS SHOW HIM WHAT A REAL WOMAN IS MADE OFF! KIIIIIILLLLLLLL HIIIIIIIIMMMMMM!!!!!!!" Her bey sped up instantly, proceeding to then zoom around the stadium waiting for Striker to land. Then... they both clash with FULL FORCE! The clash almost bent some of my bones! Both of us go deaf! Her bedroom window shatters. Her walls get tatooed with huge cracks and a lot of paint falls off! Then, after the 2 minutes the huge cloud of smoke took to clear up, both beys had stopped. But her bey had lost a huge chunk of its fusion wheel. My bey, well... was spread around the stadium like conffeti. A mere collection of minuscule crums. We then both passed out. When we wake up, it had been 2 days. We were in heaven so long, we were covered in urine, we were red eyed, I was numb from toes to head and shaking and our beys looked normal and were just stopped in the bottom of the dish, intact and her boyfriend had already gone home.

You can download the game here: https://virtua-sinner.itch.io/caverns-of-xaskazien-ii
So, the trend of biting off things I've been avoiding for fear of the difficulty in implementing continues! Lots of new content here, as always, and lots of improvements and bug fixes, but the highlight will surely go to the 90 new monsters. (The intention is to add a further 180 over the upcoming months).
If you're patching, as always, just unzip the patch file in your main game folder and answer yes to all prompts that ask if you want to overwrite an existing file. However, because of the new (and improved!) way in which the game handles the loading of monster graphics and sounds, it's harder for me to ascertain in advance if anything has been overlooked and left out of the patch. If, after patching, you notice an invisible monster that shouldn't be invisible, please tell me right away, so I can fix it! (Though, the odds anything was overlooked are very low).
Check out the quarterly expansion of the Caverns:
Major Improvements:
- 90 new monsters (all with unique graphics, animations, sound effects, Lairs and bosses): Stinger Monkey, Wild Dog, Rag Golem, Half-Ogre, Booka, Fire Beetle, Mercenary Soldier, Flying Skull, Dimetrodon, Unnatural Thing, Blood Hawk, Fire Demon, Forest Troll, Rock Fiend, Giant Tarantula, Gigantopithecus, Draugr, Ceratosaurus, Hungry Books, Giant Goat, Ice Demon, Oni, Pukwudgie, Phase Spider, Daughter of Salnash, Lost Child, Cloud Dragon, Mutant Ape, Sabre Toothed Lion, Shaggy Demon, Jackal, Gehenna’s Lowest, Grubach, Bogie, Carrion Worm, Mistress of Venom, White Handed Spirit, Ruin Lizard, Greenworm Vine, Leopard, Soil Beast, Hill Troll, Blood Fiend, Giant Boring Beetle, Mountaintop Fighter, Sheet Phantom, Acid Breathing Dragon, Pudding, White Ape, Canis Demon, Night Giant, Green Gaunt, Bugman, Xeromancer, Pyreling, Astral Dragon, Hornan Centaur, Wooly Rhinoceros, Caped Faceless Demon, Magog, Lemure, Nephilim, Coblynau, Large Spider, Gatekeeper, Wild Corpse, Golden Drake, Blue Mold, Fire Bat, Misery Demon, Desert Troll, Half-fiend, Cave Harvestman, Cowled Murderer, Kuei, Stone Dragon, Insectile Lizardwolf, Grasslands Tiger, Abyssal Spirit, Sand Giant, Kallikantzaro, Great-Mawed Worm, Were-dragon, Vetala, Amethyst Dragon, Mountataur, Terror Bird, Nyxfang, Mountain Troll, Duergar.
- 1 New Playable Race: Merfolk.
- 9 New Perks: Tropical Touch, Sea Blood, Depths Perception, Water Magic, Water Sense, Child of Tsen-Tsun Vie, Sea Alliance, Mystify Water, Repel Cryptid.
- 1 New Legendary Mundane Item: Book of Artifact Lore.
- 1 New Mundane Item: Mystical Water.
- 4 New Spells: Seal Fissure, Prestige, Repulsion, Create Golem.
- 1 New Map Tile: Paralyzing Gas Vent.
- 18 New Jewellery Enchantments: of Demon Distraction/of Demon Protection/of Demon Warding, of Dragon Distraction/of Dragon Protection/of Dragon Warding, of Spider Distraction/of Spider Protection/of Spider Warding, of Troll Distraction/of Troll Protection/of Troll Warding, of Dinosaur Distraction/of Dinosaur Protection/of Dinosaur Warding, of Floating/of Swimming/of Diving.
- 21 New Weapon Enchantments: Enigmatic/Mystical/Arcane, Anti-Demon/Demonbane/Demon Slaying, Anti-Dragon/Dragonbane/Dragon Slaying, Anti-SpideSpiderbane/Spider Slaying, Anti-Troll/Trollbane/Troll Slaying, Anti-DinosauDinobane/Dinosaur Slaying, Anti-Lycanthrope/Werebane/Lycanthrope Slaying.
- Clerics who worship neutral gods will no longer get the perk of Bless Water, but instead Mystify Water. They will also no longer get the perk of Turn Evil, but Repel Cryptid. These changes were made to keep them further differentiated from the Clerics of good gods.
Minor Improvements:
- Updated manual.
- Mages have had their starting spell of Water Breathing changed to Blur, to ensure Merfolk Mages aren’t starting with a spell that has absolutely no use to them.
- Spells in each of the Low Power, Mid Power and High Power spell tabs will now always be listed alphabetically.
- Monster graphics only load now as needed, which should improve initial load times somewhat, despite the addition of many new monsters.
- Most monster sound effects only load now as needed, which should further improve initial load times.
- Made Anti-Magic Aura graphic more transparent.
- During a Reality Breakdown event, non-Fractured Walls now only have a 1% chance to move. Once they become Fractured, this returns to the former 10% chance. This was done to help lessen the deadliness of the Reality Breakdown event. Further adjustments may yet be required, we’ll see.
- Some Goblinoids will have their Attack ratings raised by 1 point (due to new rounding off of fractions).
- Some Insectoids will have their Defense ratings raised by 1 point (due to new rounding off of fractions).
- Cave Bears now have 50% Cold Resistance, since they were adapted to cold climates, and to help differentiate them from the upcoming Short Faced Bears. (Cave Bear Experience value is also raised slightly).
- Multiple monsters have been given the sub-type (Demon). This opens the door to new weapon/jewellery variants, spells, etc. that affect only this sub-type.
- Some monsters now have the sub-type (Dragon) which opens possibilities for future weapon enchantments/spells, etc.
- Some monsters now have the sub-type (Troll) for the same reason.
- Some monsters now have the sub-type (Spider) for the same reason.
- Querying Geography skill in game or during character creation will now remind you that you need at least Basic Cartography to read any map you find.
- Trying to bash down a locked or barricaded door and failing will now output in the text output the damage you receive, as well as telling you you failed.
- Gold Pans and Fishing Lines will now work adjacently to Rapids, Waterfalls or Frigid Water, too, because why not?
- There were many instances in themed areas where instead of applying a level appropriate booby trap, the game was simply applying a random booby trap from among all available in the game. This could result in ridiculously powerful traps being sprung early, or pitiful ones being sprung late in the game. These have all been repaired, which should make traps more appropriate in power to whatever stage of the game you’re at, and eliminate (or at least greatly reduce) cheap deaths due to out of depth traps.
- It will no longer be possible to disturb Bone Trees incongruously - for instance they won’t pop out of coffins and dead adventurers won’t turn out to be a giant tree made of skeletal limbs.
- Monsters can now catch Black Gut and Cellar Sight, both from sources that cause the disease specifically and from random disease sources. Monsters with Black Gut cannot eat (this affects certain monsters - for instance T-Rexes can no longer swallow you whole and Giant Maggots can’t devour corpses), but additionally, all monsters with Black Gut can no longer kill NPCs by entering their square. Monsters with Cellar Sight have both their Sight and Hearing ranges limited to a maximum of 3 squares. Sources that remove diseases from monsters can now remove these diseases, too.
- All Insectoids are now considered room temperature (since they’re not warm blooded) and join the list of monsters invisible to Infravision.
- Your hotkey for accessing the Map screen can now act as a toggle. Pressing it when you’re not on the Map screen will open the Map screen. Pressing it while you are on the Map screen will re-open whatever tab you last had open.
- Rings/Amulets of Elemental Distraction/of Elemental Protection/of Elemental Warding have had their defensive bonuses increased from 2.33 X that of similar items (that protect from one of the 9 major monster classes) to 5.45 X. This should make them more desirable as magic jewellery, instead of automatic throwaway items. Note that this increase (and the bonuses attached to all similar jewellery items) reflects the percentage of in-game monsters that WILL BE of this type, including those planned but that haven’t yet been inserted (but will be over the next 3 to 9 months). If further monsters of this type are added after that, these bonuses may need to be revisited.
- Rings/Amulets of Lycanthrope Distraction/of Lycanthrope Protection/of Lycanthrope Warding have similarly had their defensive bonuses increased from 2.33 X to 7.5 X, with all the same rationales and caveats as above.
- The Elemental and Lycanthrope protective rings/amulets along with the new Demon/Dragon/SpideTroll/Dinosaur ones will cumulatively have the same chance of being found as the Elemental ones formerly did. This guarantees your inventory won’t get filled up with these specialist items, but still allows the new enchantments to be found. The same goes for the hyper-specialized new Weapon enchantments.
- Magic Sensitive/Magic Seeking/Magic Finding Rings/Amulets have had their bonus chance that found Weapons or Armour are enchanted increased from 7%/14%/21% to 10%/20%/30% to ensure they’re valuable enough to merit wearing.
- Witchdoctor’s/Crystethian/Emberkin Rings/Amulets have had their bonus EXP for spell kills increased from 5%/10%/15% to 8%/15%/23% to ensure they’re valuable enough to merit wearing.
- Wanderer’s/Nomad’s/Explorer’s Amulets/Rings have all been buffed from their previous EXP gain of 3X/5X/7X Dung. Level to 4X/7X/11X, to keep them worthwhile.
- Anti-Elemental/Primordial/Fundamental Weapons have had their To Hit Bonuses and Damage multipliers vs. Elementals increased a fair amount, to better account for the infrequency of Elementals.
- Tweaked the sound effects and order of operations when you plummet down a Treacherous Mineshaft.
- Prayers will be 60% more commonly found than they were, both to make the worship of Pantos easier, and because they’re cool and we don’t often see them.
- Spearmen/Spearmaidens have been added to the classes not recommended to worship Dorallas, because of the conflict between their Spear Fishing perk and Dorallas’ prohibition on eating meat.
- Dino Raid can now spawn any monster of type Dinosaur, not just the express 3 it formerly could.
- Your chance of climbing a Bean Stalk is now based on your current Dexterity, instead of being a flat 50%. Because of this, the Clamber perk has been altered - it still affects your odds of climbing Rubble as before, but for Bean Stalks increases your odds of success by 30%/60%/90% (of your former odds), depending on the level of the perk.
- Bean Stalks now come in 3 varieties, using different graphics: Thick, standard and Thin. Thick are more prevalent early in the game, standard more in the mid-game and Thin mostly in the late game (though that’s not a hard and fast rule). Thick Bean Stalks use your unmodified current Dexterity to determine % odds of success, whereas standard Bean Stalks use your current Dexterity/2 and Thin Beanstalks use your current Dexterity/3.
- The small “Fortunate” buff icon has been changed to be a smaller version of the Good Fortune miracle, to make sure the icons match when they’re pulsing in size.
- Previously, Level 3 weapon specializations (Swordplay, Archery etc.) or specialist Classes (Swordsman, Tribesman, etc.) which granted 25% extra damage with the chosen weapon type, always increased the damage by a minimum of 1 (applying this bonus to both their minimum and maximum damage ratings). This resulted in them being even stronger out of the gate than intended, and also led to some confusing calculations later on, where some of these effects compounded and yielded damage ranges that seemingly made no sense. The minimum +1 has now been eliminated, and the rounding off of the damage based on such calculations will also now be more accurate.
Bug Fixes:
- Fixed bug causing Vestonian Holy Symbols to grant you automatic success praying at Viean Shrines, and Viean Holy Symbols not to.
- Fixed error causing no information to be displayed when you query a Wandering Wall.
- Fixed error not Fracturing Walls that move from Reality Breakdown, making the event even more deadly than it was meant to be.
- Fixed text output for monster chance to break shackles AGAIN, cuz it was still wrong.
- Fixed error obscuring some text behind the OK button when you gain the Diminution effect.
- Fixed bugs where Heathen’s/Apostate’s/Heretics Rings/Amulets only worked for Low Power Spells.
- Fixed error still listing a monster’s ATT rating at 1/2 value when you query it while it’s blind (when the ATT is actually not affected, just the monster’s final chance to hit).
- Fixed minor error not explicitly freeing the memory for the Lavender image when you shut down the game (though I think it’s done automatically, regardless, so probably had no effect).
- Fixed errors messing up the casting cost of a few Viean Miracles.
- Fixed outdated info when querying Air Elementals - previously they had a 100% chance of scattering up to half your Inventory on hit, but that was changed to only a 25% chance of doing so some time back and not reflected in the query.
- Fixed persisting bug that was still occasionally causing a spell to recast instantly on reaching a new map, if you cast it in the same turn that you changed maps.
- Fixed error where Wicked/Vile/Unholy weapons weren’t displaying their bracketed, modified to hit value when querying them.
- Fixed errors with Pilgrim’s Tokens and Othitlo’s Stair Wish, not puncturing Cages, Shame Cages, Nets or Bubbles if you teleport out of them by use of either of these Magic Items.
- Fixed bug using the name “Gimset’s Horror” to describe both a special variant of Jelly and a Champion Monstrosity. (The latter has been renamed to “Gimset’s Terror”).
- Fixed 6 separate instances of spells or miracles that should not have been able to affect Gimset’s Horror, and yet were doing just that.
- Fixed multiple instances forgetting to randomize the Attack or Defense values of Gimset’s Horror.
- Fixed multiple instances calculating the Attack or Defense values of Berserkers, Pookas and Bugbear Berserkers at incorrect values.
- Fixed errors making all Mud Confined monsters, Lava Confined monsters and Acid Confined monsters a little weaker than they should have been.
- Fixed error that could very rarely return the wrong monster name for Lava Confined, Mud Confined or Acid Confined monsters.
- Fixed error in Nightmare Lairs that could turn every square to Permasmoke during generation.
- Fixed error causing Confusion Trap Kits to only Confuse you for 60 turns if you try to set one and accidentally trigger it, when they’re supposed to Confuse you for 120 turns.
- Fixed error preventing Call Spirit spell from summoning Death Spectres.
- Fixed error causing Lava Wight Bowmen to not make the sound of their bow shot half the time when they attack.
- Fixed multiple errors that could occasionally cause some monsters not to make the sound of their hitting the enemy in combat when they’re fighting another monster.
- Fixed error when a Steel Giant was fighting other monsters and gained Defense that would sometimes scroll the word “Attack” when it should have scrolled “Defense”.
- Fixed errors allowing the auto-walk and the auto-walk highlight to pass you through as yet undiscovered Illusory Walls, essentially revealing them and defeating their purpose.
- Fixed multiple errors where Were-Spiders could break their own Webs.
- Fixed error that could rarely cause Lizard Man Mutants to hit for less than max damage when they first encounter you.
- Fixed error when monsters are fighting monsters that half the time wouldn’t raise a Vengeful Dead’s Attack value when it gets hit.
- Fixed error when monsters are fighting monsters that half the time wouldn’t raise a Steel Giant’s Defense value when it hits.
- Fixed numerous instances in themed areas where it was supposed to place on the map random potions but couldn’t generate the rarer types.
- Fixed several errors not always taking into account a monster’s Flying status when it dealt with Mud or Quicksand.
- Fixed bugs causing Improvised Weapons and Armour to always list their "Type:" text line in red.
- Fixed bug causing Giant Slugs to halve all combat damage they receive, regardless of type, in combat vs. other monsters.
- Fixed errors in themed areas and lairs that didn’t take into account the fact that Idols come in 3 forms now.
- Fixed error with Idols in Gargoyle Lair that prevented many from even having the possibility of being trapped.
- Fixed erroneous info when querying Retribution miracle claiming it does Magic damage when, in fact, it does Physical.
- Fixed the same when querying the Retribution prayer.
- Fixed 11 separate errors where a random monster of some type appearing could textually output the wrong monster. (E.g. It might say “A Warrior appears!” when, in fact, a Giant Rat had appeared).
- Fixed errors allowing Hedgethorn, Andilian’s Shard and Weapons of Irritation/Pain/Agony to damage enemies on a miss, even if the reason you missed was that you didn’t swing because of Nausea or magic jewellery like the Ring of Ponderous Mass.
- Fixed bug with the Exotic Blood perk not outputting “Exotic Blood!” when you acquired Blood Lacquer through it.
- Fixed bug with the Bounty Hunter perk not outputting “Bounty Hunter!” when you acquired a Writ of Bounty through it.
- Fixed minor errors when trying to use the Plant Growth or Summon Serpent miracles in occupied squares where it was saying “This spell only works in an unoccupied square” instead of “This miracle only works in an unoccupied square”.
- Fixed errors referencing High Power jewellery that protects you from Elementals or Lycanthropes as “of X Protection” when they should have been “of X Warding”.
- Fixed error when you plummet in a Treacherous Mineshaft not properly outputting the amount of damage you took (though you’d still take it).
- Fixed error making Concealed Makeshift Doors visible on the mini-map even if they haven’t yet been detected.
- Fixed error where eating Bread couldn’t increase the duration of a Diminution effect unless you also had a Spirit Guardian effect going, and even then would increase it by the wrong amount.
- Fixed outdated info in query of Infernal Lamp claiming it would provide light for 120 turns, when it, in fact, provides it for 360 turns.
- Fixed confusing text (“+50% chance to Poison Resistance”) when querying a Poison Resistant Amulet/Ring. (Now it properly reads “+50% Poison Resistance”).
- Fixed outdated info when querying Dino Raid Event stating that the spawned monsters could include Megacerops. (They could not).
- Fixed bugs with Enchant Armament spell, charging you the spell point cost as soon as you cast the spell, even if you aborted before enchanting anything, and charging you again when the enchanting was complete.
- Fixed missing info in query of Magma Golem, not mentioning that it’s Immune to Charm type spells.
- Fixed error when you query a Dwarven Temple while having less than 0 Faith which would claim you would gain a negative amount of Gems if you used it. (Now, if you have 0 or less Faith, it will instead say, “You have no Faith to offer!”).
- Fixed bug scrambling the query text of any Conjure Spell Book scroll, whether or not it was identified.
- Fixed bug scrambling the output text for "Type:" when querying a Protection From Evil scroll, whether or not it was identified.
- Fixed graphical bug with Coats of Arms in cavernous regions, where the game would apply rough edges to the walls, even where those walls should have smoothly joined with adjacent walls.
- Fixed error with Swordsman’s Sinister Hand perk, not taking into account new Exotic Knife type weapons when determining if the perk should have its effects.
- Fixed bug with Take the Pelt perk that sometimes output text telling you you’d taken a different sized pelt than you actually had.
- Fixed error automatically waking you immediately after a Pantosian Slaver put you to sleep.
- Fixed bug with Refreshing Rain Event that would make the event sound twice and not let you proceed with the event until you’d pressed the coincidentally right combo of buttons.
- Fixed bug letting you enter and be instantly killed by Cave Columns if you entered from a Stalagmite or Stalactite square.
- Fixed typo in the query of all Scrolls.
- Fixed typo in the text output when a Sewerman tries to make you Nauseous but fails.
- Fixed typo in query of Garbage Heap.
- Fixed typo in query Prayer of Identify.
- Fixed typo in query of Shadowy Wand.
- Fixed typo in query of Confounding Robe.
- Fixed typo in text output of Spirit Guardian spell.
- Fixed typo in prompt to enter Elemental Plane of Earth.
- Fixed typo in query of Lavender, calling it Echinacea.
- Fixed typo in query of Unholy Water.
- Fixed both typo and spacing error in query of Locked Desks.
- Fixed typo and text overwrite in query of Epicentre Scroll.
- Fixed text overwrite in query of Ancient Hellkite.
- Fixed text overwrites in query of Watcher variants.
- Fixed text overwrite in query of Note tile, if you’d identified what it was.

Get some coffe or snacks and get comfy, it's time for lore :3
By completing 3 random missions every 3 hourse, the Envoy can gather the lost histories of Midrath, discovering the lost locations of Dendria. Once completed, the completed histories can be fully read at Orlick's study when returning to the Silvern Seas.
Contents (Use ctrl-f to go to a desired chapter)

• College of Pensives
• Curlail
• Fort Curlail
• Garren Shrine
• Hilly-Den
• Mines of Borro
• Oro's Well
• Salzbrim

Ch1: College of Pensives
Established in the year 776 by Schoolmaster Sicletrude. WIth humble beginnings as a library of Feybles, the Pensives Archive has grown into great Midrathian acclaim. The innermost chamer, Aurem Canus, draws eager Prentices from across the many Isles.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
First of Fabra, The 895th Year, Literatura Horarum

• Dayn - The Honourable Archsage leads the Twin Suns’ prayer. Pensives’ meditation begins at birdsong. Sage Balmus is excused to prepare the young Pietre for Shelving Rites.
• Gale - Prentice Mathilde holds the morning debates. Sage Rodrich brings his treatise “The Forest’s Vast Voices” before the Archsage. Sage Orlick brings his treatise “Capricious Crops” before the Archsage.
• Pencraft - Aftsage Proctor performs the rite of ink. The quills are doled for Pencraft. The Knightmaiden Lady Cyrila of Curlail requests a scribe for a Salzbrim Port parlay.
• Shelving - Foresage Liutfrid performs the rite of the Aurem Canus lantern lighting. Prentice Pietre forgoes the Pensive’s Experimentum Crucis - and passes. Sage Rodrich’s “The Forest’s Vast Voices” earns the Aurem Canus’ seal. Sage Orlick’s “Crapricious Crops” is torn for trial on account of unsupported claims.
• Astone - The Grand hall is sealed for dusk. Prentice Pietre rings the silent bell. Quiet study commences.

Ch2: Curlail
A modest hamlet within the fort’s walls. A community of farmers built upon infertile land. Though by the standards of new science, Curlailan soil is too full of gems and metals to farm, its tillers and sowers have yielded the most luscious crops upon it for an era.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
The Roll and Writ of The Goode and Juste Bailiff Matthias of Curlail.

• Upon this Twenty Seventh Day of Maltaine in the Fourth Year of the Reign of King Jotar II, The Goode Bailiff Matthias of Curlail hath observed a farmer’s dispute of public proportion.
• The plaintiff Holm of Curlail, farmer of corn, hath squandered his King’s tax by way of a bribe to the loathsome town crier Imbert of Curlail. Shortly after noonmeat, for the price of three and one half dracs, Holm bid Imbert to cry, ad nauseam, the following:
• “Let it be known! Berich of Curlail is fold-hearted Feykin. Come ye to his crop! Stomp out his sprouts!” The labours of the day were thus abandoned by all to wreak havoc over the King’s sweet corn.
• After much revolt and a little help from the onlooking guardsmen, The Goode Bailiff hath queried both Holm and Berich. The defendant dismissed all claims of late burning lanterns, unseasonably rathe corn stalks, and the “bewitching” of the plaintiff’s hunting mutt Fleaswurth as a result of superior farming.
• ‘Tis the opinion of The Goode and Juste Bailiff Matthias of Curlail that Holm of Curlail, Berich of Curlail, and the wretched crier Imbert be tried in the royal court and put to death for good measure.

Ch3: Fort Curlail
The legendary birthplace of the Dendrit Knightmaidens. After the Fonnish Charge of 717, the Mendicant King of Curlail and his men were lost. Thus, the Ladies of Curlailan court donned the ancient’s armour to hold their keep and have worn it proudly ever since.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
The Mendicant King’s Final Battlecry, as scribed by Sir Tincel, his jester in court.

• By Peregrine’s eye, the enemy befalls our fortress at nightfall. By my crown, they will not arrive. I lead you Southwards to their charge, men, not for my pride nor sport, but for the freedom bequest of our Fort.
• Stand we not as stalks for reaping. Wait we won’t for battered doors. Resolved am I in Mora’s shadow to protect this sheath with etched sword. Let us deliver these monsters a battlefield bloody rather than grant them a glance at these sacred halls.
• Bid ye goodbye thy ladies and scions, ripe as these golden fields of life. One innocent lost would be too many; the future of Curlail is theirs by Alca’s right… If upon this principle we cannot live, then let us upon it die. And from our mounds, Curlail’s hills grow taller. Eternal! Immortal! We ride!

Ch4: Garren Shrine
A shrine crafted in reverence of the great Omen Stag lineage. Constructed in the year 310, the Stag Shrine first honoured Odulf Rood who three-pronged antlers parted his kingdom’s canopy. It has since been a place of Dendrit worship.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
Such things as I have heard whispered to good Garren’s shrine:

• Cast a blessing upon out fields and the Druckers’ and Wylies’. The frost is coming and the grow is slow. - Let your forest of shadows cover my tracks. - Pray that I find the words. Let her forgive me, Garren.
• Guide my passage through your trees. Grant me swiftness that I may find the fort. Do not let the bailiff return here. If he does… ensure he doesn’t leave. - Have me reborn as a king. How fine I would sit upon that wretched throne. Sharpen my pride, Garren so dulled by my own mistakes. Iam worthy still to lead my people. Promise I am worthy?
• Find me at the stream if you hear my call. I should like to share a drink with you again. - Make me faster, please. Luca’s races are not fair. - Bid the fair prince a rapid recovery. May he not be caught unguarded again. - Bless these old joints old stag. I am not ready to take the chair while my sons go on hunting.
• May my sons keep stealing gourds from Red Abdon’s patch. May he never catch them. May they never tell me. - Bless my arrows on this hunt. Bless your herd to prosper. Blessed by thy balance. - Don’t let him find me. - Please bring her home.

Ch5: Hilly-Den
There is little known by word or writ of Hilly-Den. Named so by the Sproutfolk themselves, it is a secret-y place where few humans may venture. Though Lothgar of the Old Southern Hamlet claims in his memoirs to have seen “A Monstrous Sproutbeast feasting on fertilizer” within, this has never been confirmed.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• There once was a young man from Hilly-Den. Who each night nought three ales from the inn again. When they heard he was broke, they tore of his coat, to find three Sproutfolk who where chilly then.
• There once was a Sproutlass from Hilly-De. Who fancied herself an Equestrienne. She climbed up an horse, and got stuck of course, now she lives out her curse in the filly pen.
• There once was a Sproutling from Hilly-Den. Who thought he could count to 1 million. When he reached 999,992, the dew made him ACHOOO, so he’s counting back down to begin again.

Ch6: Mines of Borro
The Borro complex began as a tin extraction site in the Quiet Years. Long abandoned for reasons unknown, it was briefly rediscovered during the Cassid occupation of 401. When numerous Cassid foremen were lost within its depths, however, Napo Agnes boarded Borro's mouth shut once and for all.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• Dolce, Mora’s grace this letter finds you. ‘Tis far flight ‘cross foreign lands for lil’ Pico. Caged and covered on the ship though he was, he’s eager chirpin’ still to find his way home to you. So’s am I. Though it won’t be for some time I’m ‘fraid. Fair Neck has us in the old tin, tryin’ to scrounge up some wealth for New Cassia. Not my cup, but better’n war. Tell Marta Poppy says hello.
• Dolce, I’ll figure you ne’er saw my last letter. Poor Pico’s been turned about somethin’ awful. A tin mine in no place for a canary. ‘Specially now that we stopped comin’ up for air between digs. Digs we call ‘em but there’s still no tin! Tell that to Bino for a laugh. These Dendees dug so far down, theren’t nothing left to take. We’s just keep marchin’ as Fair Neck says. Love to you’n Marta.
• Dolce, The tunnels have changed. What was once narrow’n jagged has gone all wide’n smooth. Should be a lucky break but.. Found some etching on the wall o’ the likes we’ve never known. Not Dundees or nothin’. Ol’ Venzi says he heard what wrote it echoin’ deeper. I bet you’n Marta are at home laughin’ at Poppy’s old feybles but… these mines change a man.
• Dolce, Reckon this letter’ll be my last. Pico’s lookin’ dour n I don’t expect he’ll come back. For the best. Nothin’ so bright as him belongs this low. And low we are. Venzi’s gone off somewhere’n we all forgot which way’s up. I… Tell Marta Poppy’ll be home soon.

Ch7: Oro's Well
The oldest well in all of Midrath has many names and stories. Some claim it was dug in the Era of Ancients by Iridris himself. Others still say that once in the dry spell, Old King Rauthard had it filled with ale.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• Before the times of men, there were the Fey. Alca’s favoured childre, she granted them a gift. A taste of mother’s magicks. On the full tappers moon, she bid the first of the Fey gather in the forest’s clearing. Faces raised in a ring of clasped hands did they serenade bright Iiridris with the voices of owls and crickets.
• His face aglow with pride, Iridris cast a moonbeam so round and bright, it bore a hole right through the Fey ring, carving deep and low to Alca’s centre. From this well, a spring of magick flowed. It bathed the Fey in power.
• For an era of prosperity, the Fey drew wisdom and wishes from Alca’s well. For and era of fervency, they sipped it dry. ‘Twas not ‘till Oro, son of Iridris, came upon it, dripping with the salt of the Eastern seas, did the well fill at last with water. Still, Oro’s Well bears the sweetest drink. Imbued as it is with trace of mother’s magicks forevermore.

Ch8: Salzbrim
Known for its sturdy people and sturdier ales, the old port town of Salzbrim has a long history of welcoming sailors from lands beyond the mist. After the Darning Flood of 562, it is said that half the world's pirates sailed in peace to bail out the Drippin’ Flagon Tavern.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• We met at dusk on the docks. To grant Iridris his passing, said she, a welcome word from dark sea to sky. On an new moon, said I, there’d be nothing to see. But she liked to watch the stars blotted out. Dripping dew off Almagest’s web.
• Father’s old waders hung low and ill-fitting. We kicked at the tide. Waiting. She sang and a light seemed to rise from the depths. A sunken moon. Floating full to her song.
• RIngs of bubbles encircled his halo as Iridris swam slow from the sea. Cordelia gasped silenced, but the song sang on. A rolling melody from the great planet below. A crescendo. It breached. A spray of salten sea leapt forth like the birthing of the stars. Then his tail. T’was no moon, but a great whale glowing blue by omen light.
• She took my hand and danced me wild to the omen song. Wet with sea and sweat and drunk with light. Iridris’ whale sunk once more. A royal court of glowing frillfish marked his wake like music notes ‘pon rippling lines. An enchanted migration ‘neath the Mariner’s new moon.

Get some coffe or snacks and get comfy, it's time for lore :3
By completing 3 random missions every 3 hourse, the Envoy can gather the lost histories of Midrath, discovering the lost locations of Dendria. Once completed, the completed histories can be fully read at Orlick's study when returning to the Silvern Seas.
Contents (Use ctrl-f to go to a desired chapter)

• College of Pensives
• Curlail
• Fort Curlail
• Garren Shrine
• Hilly-Den
• Mines of Borro
• Oro's Well
• Salzbrim

Ch1: College of Pensives
Established in the year 776 by Schoolmaster Sicletrude. WIth humble beginnings as a library of Feybles, the Pensives Archive has grown into great Midrathian acclaim. The innermost chamer, Aurem Canus, draws eager Prentices from across the many Isles.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
First of Fabra, The 895th Year, Literatura Horarum

• Dayn - The Honourable Archsage leads the Twin Suns’ prayer. Pensives’ meditation begins at birdsong. Sage Balmus is excused to prepare the young Pietre for Shelving Rites.
• Gale - Prentice Mathilde holds the morning debates. Sage Rodrich brings his treatise “The Forest’s Vast Voices” before the Archsage. Sage Orlick brings his treatise “Capricious Crops” before the Archsage.
• Pencraft - Aftsage Proctor performs the rite of ink. The quills are doled for Pencraft. The Knightmaiden Lady Cyrila of Curlail requests a scribe for a Salzbrim Port parlay.
• Shelving - Foresage Liutfrid performs the rite of the Aurem Canus lantern lighting. Prentice Pietre forgoes the Pensive’s Experimentum Crucis - and passes. Sage Rodrich’s “The Forest’s Vast Voices” earns the Aurem Canus’ seal. Sage Orlick’s “Crapricious Crops” is torn for trial on account of unsupported claims.
• Astone - The Grand hall is sealed for dusk. Prentice Pietre rings the silent bell. Quiet study commences.

Ch2: Curlail
A modest hamlet within the fort’s walls. A community of farmers built upon infertile land. Though by the standards of new science, Curlailan soil is too full of gems and metals to farm, its tillers and sowers have yielded the most luscious crops upon it for an era.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
The Roll and Writ of The Goode and Juste Bailiff Matthias of Curlail.

• Upon this Twenty Seventh Day of Maltaine in the Fourth Year of the Reign of King Jotar II, The Goode Bailiff Matthias of Curlail hath observed a farmer’s dispute of public proportion.
• The plaintiff Holm of Curlail, farmer of corn, hath squandered his King’s tax by way of a bribe to the loathsome town crier Imbert of Curlail. Shortly after noonmeat, for the price of three and one half dracs, Holm bid Imbert to cry, ad nauseam, the following:
• “Let it be known! Berich of Curlail is fold-hearted Feykin. Come ye to his crop! Stomp out his sprouts!” The labours of the day were thus abandoned by all to wreak havoc over the King’s sweet corn.
• After much revolt and a little help from the onlooking guardsmen, The Goode Bailiff hath queried both Holm and Berich. The defendant dismissed all claims of late burning lanterns, unseasonably rathe corn stalks, and the “bewitching” of the plaintiff’s hunting mutt Fleaswurth as a result of superior farming.
• ‘Tis the opinion of The Goode and Juste Bailiff Matthias of Curlail that Holm of Curlail, Berich of Curlail, and the wretched crier Imbert be tried in the royal court and put to death for good measure.

Ch3: Fort Curlail
The legendary birthplace of the Dendrit Knightmaidens. After the Fonnish Charge of 717, the Mendicant King of Curlail and his men were lost. Thus, the Ladies of Curlailan court donned the ancient’s armour to hold their keep and have worn it proudly ever since.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
The Mendicant King’s Final Battlecry, as scribed by Sir Tincel, his jester in court.

• By Peregrine’s eye, the enemy befalls our fortress at nightfall. By my crown, they will not arrive. I lead you Southwards to their charge, men, not for my pride nor sport, but for the freedom bequest of our Fort.
• Stand we not as stalks for reaping. Wait we won’t for battered doors. Resolved am I in Mora’s shadow to protect this sheath with etched sword. Let us deliver these monsters a battlefield bloody rather than grant them a glance at these sacred halls.
• Bid ye goodbye thy ladies and scions, ripe as these golden fields of life. One innocent lost would be too many; the future of Curlail is theirs by Alca’s right… If upon this principle we cannot live, then let us upon it die. And from our mounds, Curlail’s hills grow taller. Eternal! Immortal! We ride!

Ch4: Garren Shrine
A shrine crafted in reverence of the great Omen Stag lineage. Constructed in the year 310, the Stag Shrine first honoured Odulf Rood who three-pronged antlers parted his kingdom’s canopy. It has since been a place of Dendrit worship.
—------------------------------------------------------------------
Such things as I have heard whispered to good Garren’s shrine:

• Cast a blessing upon out fields and the Druckers’ and Wylies’. The frost is coming and the grow is slow. - Let your forest of shadows cover my tracks. - Pray that I find the words. Let her forgive me, Garren.
• Guide my passage through your trees. Grant me swiftness that I may find the fort. Do not let the bailiff return here. If he does… ensure he doesn’t leave. - Have me reborn as a king. How fine I would sit upon that wretched throne. Sharpen my pride, Garren so dulled by my own mistakes. Iam worthy still to lead my people. Promise I am worthy?
• Find me at the stream if you hear my call. I should like to share a drink with you again. - Make me faster, please. Luca’s races are not fair. - Bid the fair prince a rapid recovery. May he not be caught unguarded again. - Bless these old joints old stag. I am not ready to take the chair while my sons go on hunting.
• May my sons keep stealing gourds from Red Abdon’s patch. May he never catch them. May they never tell me. - Bless my arrows on this hunt. Bless your herd to prosper. Blessed by thy balance. - Don’t let him find me. - Please bring her home.

Ch5: Hilly-Den
There is little known by word or writ of Hilly-Den. Named so by the Sproutfolk themselves, it is a secret-y place where few humans may venture. Though Lothgar of the Old Southern Hamlet claims in his memoirs to have seen “A Monstrous Sproutbeast feasting on fertilizer” within, this has never been confirmed.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• There once was a young man from Hilly-Den. Who each night nought three ales from the inn again. When they heard he was broke, they tore of his coat, to find three Sproutfolk who where chilly then.
• There once was a Sproutlass from Hilly-De. Who fancied herself an Equestrienne. She climbed up an horse, and got stuck of course, now she lives out her curse in the filly pen.
• There once was a Sproutling from Hilly-Den. Who thought he could count to 1 million. When he reached 999,992, the dew made him ACHOOO, so he’s counting back down to begin again.

Ch6: Mines of Borro
The Borro complex began as a tin extraction site in the Quiet Years. Long abandoned for reasons unknown, it was briefly rediscovered during the Cassid occupation of 401. When numerous Cassid foremen were lost within its depths, however, Napo Agnes boarded Borro's mouth shut once and for all.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• Dolce, Mora’s grace this letter finds you. ‘Tis far flight ‘cross foreign lands for lil’ Pico. Caged and covered on the ship though he was, he’s eager chirpin’ still to find his way home to you. So’s am I. Though it won’t be for some time I’m ‘fraid. Fair Neck has us in the old tin, tryin’ to scrounge up some wealth for New Cassia. Not my cup, but better’n war. Tell Marta Poppy says hello.
• Dolce, I’ll figure you ne’er saw my last letter. Poor Pico’s been turned about somethin’ awful. A tin mine in no place for a canary. ‘Specially now that we stopped comin’ up for air between digs. Digs we call ‘em but there’s still no tin! Tell that to Bino for a laugh. These Dendees dug so far down, theren’t nothing left to take. We’s just keep marchin’ as Fair Neck says. Love to you’n Marta.
• Dolce, The tunnels have changed. What was once narrow’n jagged has gone all wide’n smooth. Should be a lucky break but.. Found some etching on the wall o’ the likes we’ve never known. Not Dundees or nothin’. Ol’ Venzi says he heard what wrote it echoin’ deeper. I bet you’n Marta are at home laughin’ at Poppy’s old feybles but… these mines change a man.
• Dolce, Reckon this letter’ll be my last. Pico’s lookin’ dour n I don’t expect he’ll come back. For the best. Nothin’ so bright as him belongs this low. And low we are. Venzi’s gone off somewhere’n we all forgot which way’s up. I… Tell Marta Poppy’ll be home soon.

Ch7: Oro's Well
The oldest well in all of Midrath has many names and stories. Some claim it was dug in the Era of Ancients by Iridris himself. Others still say that once in the dry spell, Old King Rauthard had it filled with ale.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• Before the times of men, there were the Fey. Alca’s favoured childre, she granted them a gift. A taste of mother’s magicks. On the full tappers moon, she bid the first of the Fey gather in the forest’s clearing. Faces raised in a ring of clasped hands did they serenade bright Iiridris with the voices of owls and crickets.
• His face aglow with pride, Iridris cast a moonbeam so round and bright, it bore a hole right through the Fey ring, carving deep and low to Alca’s centre. From this well, a spring of magick flowed. It bathed the Fey in power.
• For an era of prosperity, the Fey drew wisdom and wishes from Alca’s well. For and era of fervency, they sipped it dry. ‘Twas not ‘till Oro, son of Iridris, came upon it, dripping with the salt of the Eastern seas, did the well fill at last with water. Still, Oro’s Well bears the sweetest drink. Imbued as it is with trace of mother’s magicks forevermore.

Ch8: Salzbrim
Known for its sturdy people and sturdier ales, the old port town of Salzbrim has a long history of welcoming sailors from lands beyond the mist. After the Darning Flood of 562, it is said that half the world's pirates sailed in peace to bail out the Drippin’ Flagon Tavern.
—------------------------------------------------------------------

• We met at dusk on the docks. To grant Iridris his passing, said she, a welcome word from dark sea to sky. On an new moon, said I, there’d be nothing to see. But she liked to watch the stars blotted out. Dripping dew off Almagest’s web.
• Father’s old waders hung low and ill-fitting. We kicked at the tide. Waiting. She sang and a light seemed to rise from the depths. A sunken moon. Floating full to her song.
• RIngs of bubbles encircled his halo as Iridris swam slow from the sea. Cordelia gasped silenced, but the song sang on. A rolling melody from the great planet below. A crescendo. It breached. A spray of salten sea leapt forth like the birthing of the stars. Then his tail. T’was no moon, but a great whale glowing blue by omen light.
• She took my hand and danced me wild to the omen song. Wet with sea and sweat and drunk with light. Iridris’ whale sunk once more. A royal court of glowing frillfish marked his wake like music notes ‘pon rippling lines. An enchanted migration ‘neath the Mariner’s new moon.

Part 1: here
Part 2: here
Part 3: here
Part 4: here
Part 5: here
Part 6: here
Notes: This is a slower paced part, written primarily to introduce the new human characters. Also contains a sort of recap of Parts 1 to 6 in a way that makes part 1 gel better with all the other parts.
I’ve tried to keep it interesting by disguising the exposition as dialogue where possible.
Originally I planned to write so much more but decided to put the rest of it in Part 8 to avoid crazy long posts.
The action packed parts are coming soon. ……
Part 7
Beep, Beep, Beep Sound came back to him first. Bright-Eyes groaned then opened his eyes. He found himself lying down on a medical bed. A cone of frosted glass acted as a canopy covering him from his ankles all the way up to his neck. A robotic voice spoke “Patient Awake. Treatment Complete.” He felt a sting of pain as needles retracted out of his wrists. Other medical implements in more sensitive areas also removed themselves from his body causing him to clench his muscles in discomfort.
How long has it been? was his first thought. He rolled onto his side and jumped when he saw the face of his still persistent poltergeist Whats the matter? Thought you could get rid of me that easy she taunted him. He rolled onto his back intent on ignoring her once again. By all measures he felt well-rested. Neither tiredness nor hunger nor thirst assailed him. Taking stock of his surroundings he noticed the room was bare bones for a ship. Wires hung loosely from the walls, on one side sparks flew freely out of a strange tangle of wires. To his other wooden boxes and crates littered the floor, and in front of him the walls were a patchwork of different metals crudely welded together.
He eased himself out the bed, shuffling his body until he could climb out from beneath the frosted glass. Thank the stars for small mercies he thought as he realised he had a plasticky sheet cinched around his waist covering his modesty from all sides.
Now standing he turned to look behind him where he noticed a cracked computer screen rigged up to mechanical arms, each holding strange medical implements, some of them no doubt were used on him and were now desperately in need of sanitisation.
The sound of shouting from a door in the corner of the room alerted him, he opted to simply listen from where he was “……So long as he’s got that collar around his neck he’s a liability! So you either drop me off at the next free planet or you Get. Rid. Of. Him.” It was the woman’s voice. Another voice retorted “Watcha yapping about, ain’t nothing can track us through warpspace so calm ya tits”, A third voice “We can’t stay in warpspace forever.” The Captains voice came now. “Enough!” His words went unheeded by the woman “I’m not going back there, I won’t let them find me. I won’t let them take me. I won’t!” she seethed. The Captain answered back softly “It won’t come to that Valera. I promise, have I ever let you down before?” just like you promised meeeee the ghost told Bright-Eyes.
The third voice answered “Well actually there was that one time…with the donuts..she wanted….” What in the blazes are ‘donuts’? the thought came unbidden to Bright-Eyes even as he pondered the rest of what he heard.
The voice trailed off into silence. Valera spoke up “Fine. But if the collar isn’t gone within a day of returning to real-space I’m gone for good” The ghost interrupted his thoughts circling around him trying to rile him up See, you’re not even safe here. You really think they’ll choose you over her? the door opened up with a harsh creak. Valera took one look at him, her face flushed with anger, her blue eyes filled with fear and disdain. She shoved into his shoulder and strode past him disappearing through another door.
He tentatively made his way into the room where the other three still stood. “Well, look who’s awake? Did ya have a good sleep Princess?” The stocky man said. The bulky bald man looked at the former confused “Princess? He’s not royalty and clearly a man. We all saw when the doors…” the stocky man grunted “Its a joke you half-wit” What have I gotten myself into Bright-Eyes thought as he looked back and forth between the two of them. Before Bright-Eyes could respond the bulky man retorted “I might be a half-wit but at least I’m not a half-man”
The Captain was turned away from them as he sat in the cockpit of the ship monitoring the navigation systems. He Turned around “Knock it off, both of you. Ganthar, show our guest to his quarters. Alder your room’s toilet pipes have a blockage. Deal with it.” He turned to Bright-Eyes at last. “Lad, get yourself settled we’ll talk later.”
Ganthar turned out to be the short man with the eye-patch. Short would be an understatement. He just about came up to Bright-Eyes’ waist. “Alright Princess, come along and I’ll give ya the tour.” Bright-Eyes followed him out the room finally giving voice to his thoughts “How long?” Ganthar turned to him, “In the med-bed? About 72 hours.” Bright-Eyes corrected himself “No, how long was I in the Escape Pod?” Ganthar shrugged, “Hows the bleedin’ stars am I ‘sposed to know, it depends on when ya left?” His head tilted and his eyes rolled upwards in thought. “I ‘spose this might help, we ‘eard reports o’ your escape around 7 Xenthian days ago, assumin’ it took maybe three at least for word ta spread ‘fore we ‘eard, that’s just a guess mind, would explain the malnutrition tho. Health-bot diagnosis showed your body was on the verge o’ eating itself. them Xenthian nutrition packs ain’t meant fo us humans.”
“How did you find me?” Bright-Eyes asked as they came to a stop before a door. “We weren’t looking for you, Princess” responded Ganthar in an exaggerated tone “Our warp drive done gots busted an’ Xenthian engines have all the parts ta jerry rig a new one, if ya know how, I’m one o’ a few that can, so it was how’s ya say, fortuitous, when we saws ya floating through space, with no defences, not even a cloaking device engaged. Capt’n looked so happy you’d have thought he’d won a free night at the Harshep.
The ‘Harshep’ Bright-Eyes recalled was the most expensive brothel in the Empire run by a nearly extinct species with mind-manipulating powers. They used these powers to make people experience their wildest fantasies as if they were real.
Ganthar led him into the room they had stopped at then handed him a key card. “This here is ya access card, One rule, nobody goes in your quarters without askin’, and you don’t go snooping in ours. Not even the Capt’n will break that rule, Valera don’t want ya ‘ere for good reason but still she spent hours finding material then feeding it into the fabricator to print clothes in ya size, be sure ta thank her when she’s less grumpy, you’ll find em in teh cupboards. One other rule, ya use and clean ya own toilet. if it breaks or blocks, it’s ya own problem. I’ll come get ya when it’s time to chow down. You can explore if ya want but the ships a mess of exposed wires and leaking pipes you get hurt that’s on you. Understand Princess?”
Bright-Eyes nodded and watched as Ganthar turned around then waddled away. He called out to him “Ganthar!” The man looked back at him raising an eyebrow and Bright-Eyes fought the urge to apologise for speaking out of turn. “Umm just one more thing…What are Donuts?” Ganthar laughed heartily “You’ll find out Princess. You’ll find out.” Before continuing on his way.
Bright-Eyes spent the next few hours checking out his room. The bed was a double with plenty of space to stretch out, the cupboards and drawers exactly like Ganthar had said contained simple black underwear, and clothing similar to what the rest of the crew wore. He immediately removed the improvised garment cinched around his waist and got properly dressed. It felt strange at first, parts of him itched where the fabric touched against his skin. Having only ever worn either a slave robe with nothing underneath or nothing at all this took some getting used to. Nevertheless upon dressing a switch flipped in his mind and he found himself feeling more confident. I’m a person. A real person he exhaled the weight of it settling into his very soul filling a gap he didn’t know it existed.
This inner-peace was tempered by the ghost of the girl which lay in his bed behind him. You’ve forgotten your collar again! They’re gonna find you, they’re gonna take you back. You can pretend to be a person but it won’t be for long still he kept on ignoring her, intent on not letting her destroy this moment.
Hours later Ganthar came back and led him to a large room. The others were also there sitting at an oblong metallic table. One of its legs were missing in its place some boxes had been stacked to keep it from falling over. Ganthar took a seat and Bright Eyes took the seat next to him. Plates and cups were already laid out with servings of roasted meat, bread, and a cup of clear liquid that seemed to have tiny bubbles floating to the surface.
They all seemed to watch him intently, not one of them saying a word, until Ganthar said “Go on Princess, whatcha waiting for?” He picked up a piece of the meat with his fingers and put it in his mouth. “Mmmm! Ahhh…wow” came out his mouth as the flavours hit. He was in sensory bliss. His eyes closed. A circus of flavours played across his tongue and he quickly reached for more. So this is what freedom tastes like The others laughed at his reaction. Even Valera couldn’t help but smile. “Happens every time” Alder said. The Captain followed it up. “Watching a newly freeman take his first taste of true food, made for a human tongue, is a sort of rite of passage among human free agents” funny way to say Pirates he thought.
“What is it?” He asked. Valera spoke up “Xenthion” Bright-Eyes began retching feeling as if he was about to puke. Again the crew laughed at his expense, Ganthar reached over patting him on his back wildly, it was then he realised they were pranking him. His face turned red with embarrassment. The Captain replied “It doesn’t really have a name in Galactic Common lad, it’s synthetic meat designed to taste like something from our world of origin. Apparently they called it cheek-en” and the drink something called “Laymanaid” The drink was strange to him, it was sweet yet had a hint of sourness, the bubbles fizz popped on his tongue and if he drank too quickly he felt the need to burp, still it was pleasant, far more pleasant than the mush he had been eating on the Imperial WarShip.
“I thought everything from our homeworld was lost?” He looked at each of them questioningly. “Not quite, but we can talk about that later just me and you.” The Captain said. For the rest of the meal they each introduced themselves.
Ganthar went first being the most talkative of them all. “Ain’t much to tell about me, I don’t remember much, instead of being born in a training centre like you unlucky sods I found myself growing up in an Orphanage. Don’t ask me how, I was a babe. all I knows is, they thought I was a Drelder, small imp like creatures from the Federation. Don’t see the resemblance myself. One day I was adopted by two genius Xenthians, taught me everything about Engineering, Mechanics and Ship Maintenance. As I became an adolescent I displayed none o’ the signs o’ Drelder puberty o’course. So I was found out when they had me thoroughly examined. Goes without saying that was a shock. Even I thought I was Drelder till that day. Well in the aftermath I stole dear ol’ Mom and Pops’ ship made my way to a backwater planet, barely made a living fixing ships using the stolen one for spare parts til the Capt’n ‘ere found me and gave mes a place in his crew. Been ‘ere ever since.”
Ganthar raised a glass, now Alder, he’s got a story worth telling. “Not really.” Alder gruffly said “Went from training centre to slave fighting ring. One day they decided to experiment with a strength serum to make me stronger, not even the collar stopped my rampage that day. I crushed Xenthion skulls, forced a Xenthion ship owner to fly me into Federation territory and that was that. Met Our Captain here later at a bar. He paid me to join and I liked him so I stayed.” ….”You’re joking?” Bright-Eyes asked his eyes wide in shock. “Not a joke” Alder said smugly. “It wasn’t all good, found out later the Serum left me stronger but also uh…what’s the word?” He asked looking at Valera. “Intellectually Impaired” she said then went back to eating. They all looked at Valera now.
“Fine. I’ll tell it only once then never mention it again. I was a whore, kept in control by the scum who held my Collar’s remote. Every night they charged clients extra to shock me for fun until one day the collar malfunctioned, just stopped working. I ran away and jumped on the first ship I saw. This one.”
The Captain pulled out a strange vial of golden liquid. Passing it over to Bright-Eyes “You can hear my story later lad, right-now you have a decision to make. You want to join the crew you just drink this here truth serum. It’s a rule on my Ship. New members tell us everything. Secrets get people killed.” “What happens if I don’t?” Bright-Eyes asked nervously his hands gripping the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white. “We’ll drop out of warpspace and drop you off on the nearest Xenthian free planet. Where I’ll be tracked down for sure… he thought. Do it!, Do it and tell them the truth about how you promised to save me… the ghost screamed at him.
With shaky hands he opened the vial, then downed it in one swig exhaling nervously after he did. He felt a shift in his mind. An urge to speak came over him, but he didn’t know where to start. The Captain experienced in this kind of procedure prompted him on “Tell us about your designation” Bright-Eyes began his story.
“My designation, I don’t clearly remember. A random code of numbers and letters same as all others until the day of the Empresses crowning anniversary. I had been trained to serve nobles. Apparently slaves with green eyes were a coveted status symbol. They presented me to her as a gift when I was just on the cusp of adulthood…..” he spoke onwards at length telling them how he was forced to watch the Empress ‘put down’ her previous slave for some major ‘insolence.’ He told them how that night, she had held him in her arms and promised him he’d be safe if he made her happy. He told them how affectionate things were with her compared to the training centre. How he came to love her like a pet might love its Master ….how all this culminated in her using her power as Empress to change his designation from a random string of characters to ‘Bright-Eyes’ giving him a sense of identity far above what most slaves were afforded.
“So what happened? Sounds like the two o’ yas were pretty cozy all things considered” Ganthar asked. “I was conflicted. She gave me a taste of freedom. I had access to most parts of the ship, was allowed to wander unsupervised, she trained me in the dull art of bureaucracy, let me do tasks for her, approve plans, all so she could spend more time in leisure. I realised the lie that the training centre flogged into us. That without their control we would destroy ourselves. That what they were doing was for our own good.”
“Heard that one too” Alder said. Still Bright-Eyes continued on. His voice took on a robotic tone as if he was distant and someone else was speaking through him. “I began dreaming of freedom, thinking what if I used my position to gain more independence, what if I could help others in service to the Elite do the same. I volunteered to help train other slaves. This way my opinion on who should be given to which elites was taken on board. I built a network of strong talented slaves in high places. If we all worked hard enough, performed above expectations, surely they would come to see our value, our capableness? And with that I’d secure our freedom” Valera interrupted him “only a fool would believe that.”
“Yes, I was a fool. That fool is dead now. I’m changed.” He said wistfully before going back to his monologue “See I overheard a guard saying that all communications on the Empress’ Warship were encrypted regardless of device. I began reaching out to others. Artemis was the first, that’s her name now she’s free. I found her contact details in the Xenthian database noted down as being in service to the Lord of War. We spoke at length about my plan. In the end she told me I should have a contingency in case the Empress ever turned bad. I didn’t believe her, I was in love with the only person to ever show me affection but she told me not to forget what happened to the last favourite, it troubled me I admit. Troubled me enough to create plans for sabotage. I told my agents to be ready to implement them. Such grand plans that would cripple the empire from within.
They were all shocked into silence. Bright-Eyes too sat in silence seemingly stuck in some mental fugue until urged on by the Captain. “Go on Lad, finish your story…”During the day I was the perfect pleasure slave. Completely devoted. During the night I dreamt of freedom. Of pushing forth with the contingencies to reach that ultimate goal. The contingencies started becoming not contingencies but the actual plan. I told myself I would protect her from the fall out. That she’d be safe as ‘one of the good ones’ then one day she ordered the invasion of Feldaran. I saw an opportunity to prove humanities worth. If we could be the one to secure victory maybe then she’d finally reward me with freedom. First me, then humanity I thought.
I also knew Feldaran had Gerwanthir allies, that a war with them would be the perfect catalyst for a slave revolution. Together, myself and Artemis altered the plans until we were sure it’d guarantee success. Using the Empress’ digital signature from the communications room I sent the altered plans to the Commander several days before the invasion was to begin. The Commander implemented them immediately.
“You did what?” Alder said. His fists clenched anger writ large upon his face. “Let him finish Alder” The captain said looking equally annoyed. “The next day, I knew it was time. If I wanted to push forward with the Contingencies I had to strike while the iron was hot but still I cared for her. So I gave her a chance. I asked her for Freedom, appealed to the victory I secured, she became angry. From that day until the day of my escape she ensured my life was pain. I was no longer her soft well-loved pet. I became her punching bag, her thing to torture. She used the collar at full power.
In a desire for revenge, blinded by hate, I had Artemis convince The Commander to attack the escape pods from Feldaran hoping to ignite war between The Empire and The Federation. It was a miracle no refugees were harmed. The Gerwanthir won the Salvo and war was but a hairs breadth away.
Still the Empress found ways to humiliate and torture me. Showing me off like an animal before the Gerwanthir diplomatic delegation. She scourged me with her teeth until I was bleeding all over. But she had overlooked the power of a communicator on board her ship. So I contacted the most important of my agents. I had a slave-troupe of Border Patrol pilots promise to target the next big Gerwanthir ship that came in their vicinity. Had the Royal Financiers slave promise to wipe out a substantial portion of the Galactic Economy once war broke out.
On my last day aboard the ship she said my punishment was over. That we were to go back to normal. Then she brought me to a human girl, a child. Told me to rape her. I killed the Empress right where she sat. We made for the escape pods. Three shots the girl took to the chest just as we were about to escape together…I promised her….I promised…now she haunts me….I see her phantom as clearly as I see you.”
The phantom began to laugh hysterically Uh oh you’re in trouble Alder flipped the table over sending the others falling to the ground leaving them struggling to scramble back up. He lunged at Bright-Eyes, A knife-in-hand roaring ferociously, grabbing him by the throat then bringing the knife to his neck. Bright-Eyes found himself knocked out the trance induced by the truth serum. “I had friends on Feldaran” Alder snarled at him. “If they had more time, even a day. They might’ve made it”
The girls ghost continued cackling behind him Go on. tell him it was for the ‘greater good’ see what happens Bright-Eyes struggled to breathe. The Captain was on his feet now “Alder! Enough.” Alder however was not inclined to agree “He’s a fucking collaborator, nothing is enough!” Bright-Eyes gathered his courage “I truly am sorry, war, death, destruction. It all seemed so abstract back then. A simple equation. Feldaran for Humanity….but the girl she changed everything. I realised ‘the greater good’ is a path to moral decay and when she died only then did I learn how irreplaceable even one life is. Have you though? Have you really learned? The ghost scowled at him.
Alder at least was convinced even if still sore. “You’re not forgiven. Not yet. You have work to do for that. But I’d rather see you work for it then dead” Alder let go of him storming off out the room. Ganthar spoke up. “Just goes ta show doesn’t take brains ta ‘ave wisdom.” Valera who was at his side clipped him round the ear. The Captain spoke to Bright-Eyes his tone authoritative “I think it’s time you and I speak alone.”
Part 8: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/s/lXsJ67NxN3

What a whirlwind this show has been for me. Put on the pilot like five days ago on a whim and just didn't look back. I'm now on S03E03 and I think my time with the show is at an end.
That first season was just excellent. I was shocked how quickly I took to it and how invested I became. I loved how character focused the show was and how organic the issues and conflicts felt. I'd often have to watch the show through my fingers from how uncomfortable (in the best way) some of the scenes were - they were sharply written, skillfully acted, and never shied away from the hard stuff. The show was subtle too - it was often as much about what wasn't said as what was (one of my favorite things in the shows I love).
And then there was season two. A season that I honestly didn't mind for the first half and change. There were more than a few odd subplots and some slack in the writing, but it didn't feel like a precipitous drop in quality. But that was the first half. The last three episodes of the season, especially, were woefully written, at times shockingly poor. Some of the dialogue was just blatantly hamfisted, conflicts bubbled up out of nothing, characters were introduced and had the dimensionality of plywood, and characters that I knew and loved lost whatever dimensions they possessed. And none of this would have been rectified by these plot lines resolving had the season had the chance to finish.
All the while, I told myself that I'd stick with the show into season three as I learned of the extenuating circumstances of season two's creation. Unfortunately, I'm not finding season three much better at all. I'd say it's only been marginally better than those last few episodes of season two.
The dialogue still feels so hollow, stilted, and unfamiliar. I came to learn each character's voice in season one through the excellent writing. Everyone had their angle and their manner of speaking. No more. Other than the literal voice of the actors, often a line said by one character could just as easily have been said by another.
The subtlety is also gone. So many moments where a character will say something that is evident and does not need iterating. And now all the conflict is writ large, blown up, in your face. Like Tyra's mother making the Collete's class conflict with the Garrity's very apparent. Just no interpersonal subtlety. And the conflicts feel so contrived. J.D.'s dad paying for a smoothie truck to drive up to the football field? Tyra hiring strippers to help with her student council campaign? Buddy coming to the Taylor's house to once again get in Tami's face about the school getting a jumbotron? These all just feel so idiosyncratic for a town portrayed so naturally in the first season. The town feels like it's becoming a caricature as each character becomes a caricature.
This is all without mentioning the issue of season three effectively treating season two like it never happened. From what I understand, basically none of the subplots raised in season two are ever mentioned again. The viewer has to fall in line lest some of these character decisions sting all the more. Imagine my surprise when season three opens with Lyla in Tim's arms. Sure, they're cute together, but I have to ignore literally every moment Lyla was on screen in season two (and most of season one for that matter) for this to make sense at all. Just rough stuff.
All this to say, I think this show is just different now. It seems people review season three fairly well, including some of the episodes I've already watched. Seems season 4 and 5 are well thought of too, so maybe I'll just tough it out.

So, I am writting a story and I need FTL. Basically, there are 2 types of FTL. Gates, and Warp. Gates simply take you to an alternate dimension and after navigating through this place for a short time you get spit out into another gate. These gates are made by forerunners and no one understands how they work. They get made in an unknown place in the galaxy and get shot off at near light speeds until these gates arrive near a habital world, where they set up, power on, and connect to the network.
Then there is warp. By exploiting some IRL concepts like the Kasimir Vacuum, it is possible to make a warp drive, Alcubierre Drive, and bend spacetime to allow for faster than light travel.
​
Now, in the narrative, humanity uses warp and aliens use the Gates. I want some plausible and semi realistic scifi, so I'd like explanations for these technologies to be plausible. But I also want certain things for my story and setting to work.
​
- Warp drives must be able to see further. It always struck me as odd that ships could travel faster than light without seeing where they are going. So I need a way to at least detect things in front of them. Lest they crash into another ship or star at FTL speeds.
- Non-Weaponize. I don't want space combat to devolve into sending relativistic kill missiles or kamikaze ftl ships into other ships or planets to be a thing. Once a ship is "In warp" it should be untouchable.
- Ideally if both the gates and the warp drives could be tangentially related to each other that would be a bonus.
​
Some ideas I have is that there exists limited gravity manipulation in this setting, and that upon cranking that up you can manipulate mass to such an extent to enable space time distortion, but that it only works far away from major gravity wells due to the interference of these large masses, so the drives shut off when close to a planet or star. But I also read that there are issues with warp bubbles and catching particles, and I haven't figured out FTL communication, other than sending subatomic particles directly to receivers via a beam of accelerated particles which are then compared with quantum entangled particles on the other side to establish a connection.
Are there any pitfalls I should avoid? Do you all have any ideas on how to fix the issues presented?

long in 4 parts : progression / inventory / customization / communication, pick yer favorite, sorry if typos
I love the game. I have three alts, and even if i don't feel like i make much progress, i like to run around fetching items and skills for their builds, and meeting players is always adorable in this game !
Being in early access, there is a lot of features missing, its understandable. But i've been thinking about those we already have, which i assume are less likely to change too drastically. (I'll try to organize my thoughts by priority)
------------Character Progression
So the ''Vellan Language" skill is frustrating as it is too easy to get imo. The hook of the game is that you are lost in an unknown country with a mystical language of knots but you can learn it all by bying the manual from Old Ez, or taking a short class in Bat Saha.
I feel like learning Vellan should be the core character progression of the game. It could affect the trade value of message knots, have a translation "minigame" where you try to decipher a knot based on the concepts you know, etc..
The game is a good niche but it might be too niche for its safety when you don't have noticeable changes in your progression.
------------Gear / endeavors / inventory
The game is a lot a menu surfing right now. I have pocket bags filled with gear to switch to, depending of the situation but its a hassle sometimes.

We should be able to right click an item pocketed in the inventory without it closing the pocket item. That or show gear stats on mouse hover.
When trading, you should have access to all the pockets of equiped gear at least (but i would add an option to show the pockets of bags in your inventory when trading, while also preventing to sell said bags during trade)
Im wondering if this doesn't hurt the role play aspect in the game, since you don't specialize in anything. Maybe the attribute point you choose at character creation could give you special interractions with the related endeavors ?

------------Visual Customization
I was mixed about the character's visual creation, but i ended up liking it. It reminds me of the Dofus mmo where you could only choose an "archetype" character and pick a few colors.
For Book of Travels,

picking clothing colors during character creation would be lovely backpacks, cloaks and hats should probably be modelized in game
But most importantly, I think there should be a discussion with the devs about the clash between custom facial features and forms emotes: Its weird being able to change your character precisely, then have emotes showing another character.

Either we have a strict archetypal character and we can't change skin/facial features, keeping the forms unique emotes. (The devs will have to create a lot more forms then..)
Or we allow to change facial features but remove the forms emotes, or change them to reflect the culture of the form rather than a character. I prefer this solution because: -it allows players to "rediscover" existing forms for different character ideas -i like the forms emotes but they aren't always legible
------------Player Communication
Its last on the list as i think its easy to change but this has been the most frustrating part of the game to me XD There is just not enough emoticons to talk with and the limit of "two icons per sentences" makes conversations very messy. (Just increasing it to three would allow us to add the holy question mark in a single sentence more often)

when grouping next to many other players, conversations become really chaotic. I wonder if there could be a way to separate speech bubble between players ? Like mouse hover a player talking highlights their emotes and puts them on top of the stack.
The emoticons are too specific to the gameplay elements and don't allow you to express subtle ideas about them. -Most common situation: I can't help doing an endeavor as i've cleared it before a player arrives, and they are sad, asking me to help; and the only sentence i could make would be "endeavor" "thumb down" but that last emote feels pejorative... XD
Segwaying the previous part, the forms emotes look too complexe, not contrasted enough to be truly legible, but they add a lot of style to a conversation.
i would like the uniqueness of emotes to depend on the wind/background cards -north wind is logical so you would be better discussing quantities and numbers -rural background could give you a laidback greeting like the mosswalker, something like that..

(God why is writting on reddit so esoteric.. hope this looks decent to you all..)

So, it seems like every aspect of my life is starting to slip right out of my hands and there is really nothing I can do about it...First of all, my relationship with my partner has been getting worse, I´m trying my best to be the best boyfriend they could get (being there whenever they need me, reminding them how much I love them everyday, buying gifts, doing nice things for them, improving myself, doing whatever they ask, helping them in whatever they need) and yet they always seem unhappy about something, I always miss something, no matter what. Yesterday after a little fight we had they asked me what would I do if they killed themselves... I responded that I couldn´t bear to loose them like that and ask if everything was fine, without answering my last question they asked "Do you depend on me in any way?" I insisted and asked them again if they were Ok? and they just vanished, I panicked and ran to my car to drive to their place as fast as I could but half way there I got a text saying "I gotta stop thinking about it, I´m going to sleep" and I haven´t heard from them since...
I went back home, screams in my head, shaking, hearing my own heartbeat and I tried to go to sleep but I couldn´t, I stared at the wall, looked at my phone, try relaxing audios and videos, tried listening to my favorite music, but nothing stopped the screaming in my head... so there´s that
The reason that I´m writting this here and not telling a friend about it is because I´m really running out of friends, my friends from highschool are always to busy to talk or hang out, my college friends are always too busy or tired to talk or hang out, friends I made from other places slowley faded away from my life and I don´t have anyone to go now.
My older brother (which I´m really close to) just moved out, so, there goes another friend I guess
I fucking hate my job, I really liked it at first but I´m sick and tired of the same shit every single fucking day, I don´t get along with my coworkers either, which makes my job worse
Since my older brother moved out, my mom has been sad, irritable, angry, getting it all out on me of course, my dad has been down too, but he is a bit more silent about it.
College is getting really fucking hard, lots of homework, teacher that I hate, lots of studying, having to come in on Saturdays.
So yeah, I haven´t slept in maybe 33 hours, all I hear are desperate, horrifying screams in my head, I´m still shaking as I write this, feeling like my head is inside of a water bubble, I´m drowining here and I can barely hear what other people is telling me, I´m so fucking out myself
I wanted to do something nice for myself this week, so I went to the same barber shop I always go to get it done and they messed it up so badly, I love my hair, is one of the things I really like about myself and now I can´t even look in the mirror, so if you see a guy wearing a hat that covers his hair, think about me, because it is probably me.