I saw a quiz asking what has hands but cannot clap. The answer is clock but I wanted to look for out of box answers (mannequin, t-rex). Then I thought what makes arms and is not consider legs? Trex does not have opposable thumbs. Would spiders pedipalp be considered arms or hands?

so for context, I had a few days off of work, I'm a huge fan of horror and tv in general, and I really enjoyed lost. Saw this show brought up a lot, noticed it shared some lost staff, was immediately interested. I have 1 episode left before im caught up, I started watching last saturday and legit couldn't stop.
Ep 1-2 of season 1 I found a bit of a slog, ep 3 onwards I was hooked. Overall thoughts are that the show reminds me of Lost just in a different setting with different motifs. I know people tend to get soured on the mystery box type of shit but I love having constant questions, I love not knowing entirely what's going on, etc.
My understanding is that season 2 was harshly critized, but I honestly had a lot of fun with it. It's definitely "more of the same" but even early in season 2 I felt like we were still in early game. Hopefully this show keeps on getting renewed because it feels like a 5 season show at least IMO. Character wise, everyone is kinda miserable but I like Jade, Victor, Donna, Julie, and Kenny, but honestly by s2 I felt like most of the prominent cast had likable traits. Season 2 to me feels like it evolves a lot on ideas in s1. From what I understand, people were upset the lighthouse, spiderwebs, etc wasn't answered? But from what I understand in season 2, there's a few ideas that emerge that suggest the town may be a sort of "dreamscape" for the deceased of the town? There's a lot of hints that most of the crazy shit that occurs is based on the thoughts/minds of individuals that died in the town? I don't actually know but I love that, I'm hyped for more seasons. I do think the whole "characters withholding information" from each other is the biggest sore point of the series though. I can understand the writers wanting to withhold information, but in my opinion its not written intelligently a lot of the time.

Well, Hi all! again! 4Th Wall here, I figured since I just got power back, I might as well play some catch up on both series. Hope you enjoy this episode!!
Yup, I fucked that up. This is a repost with the correct Episode number, LOL! It's been a while since I've done that.
First, Previous, Next (Patreon)
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Benjamin smiled, watching the girls skip ahead of him. Today was a testing day of sorts for him. Unwilling to release firearms into this world haphazardly, yet unwilling to go without them as a backup; he had pulled from one of his sister’s favorite video games. He had “melted down” his bowie knife, repurposing the metal to be used in his latest creation. The final product rode on his hip like a short sword, but Ben was satisfied in the design when the vast majority of the people he passed ignored it as just another adventurer’s blade. Benjamin hoped, that with the existence of Majik, that he would be able to pass off any… peculiarities... as the realm of the supernatural.

The three of them arrived at the tailor’s establishment, and the girls were met with a customary indifference that seemed to present itself when a slave’s “master” was present. The moment Benjamin entered, the seamstress ceased to pay attention to the girls, and instead addressed him directly, “Ah, The Forgemaster’s Protégé. What can I do for you this day.” She said cooly, bowing slightly in welcome. “I’m here commission some clothing for these two, a reward for good service.” Benjamin began. It was technically true; the success of the forge had afforded him much more coin than a mere apprentice could have made. Qort had taken him on as a true partner, and Benjamin earned enough to comfortably afford to cloth his “slaves” in whatever he chose.

Some stigma’s remained however, and the seamstress seemed to glare sideways at the girls as they perused the fabrics adorning the walls. “Is that wise? A slave could lose her place with such gifts.” she asked, her polite tone barely hiding her disapproval. Benjamin sighed internally, ‘oh for fucks sake’ he groaned in his own mind before putting on facad, “I find that proper reward, afforded on the right servant can result in” he paused, projecting a smug expression and blatantly looking the girls up and down. “a profound dedication to their duties” he finished with a satisfied smile as the seamstress covered her mouth with a hand to hide a smile of her own. The gambit worked, and the Seamstress was obviously satisfied that the “Aereesen slave whores” were being properly “used”. “Ah, I understand. What did you have in mind for them.” She practically moaned back at Benjamin. ‘This hag needs a good pounding….’ Benjamin’s inner monologue threatened to crack his facade, “That’s the fun part, my good lady. It’s their choice. The surprise is half the excitement.” He chuckled.

The seamstress openly smiled at him this time before nodding and stepping over to the two girls. Benjamin breathed a sigh of relief as she seemed to treat them at least marginally more warmly. The old racist bag didn’t need to know that Benjamin was secretly building a small nest egg for his girls, or that his sending them out to do errands for him was how he was teaching them about money, value, and the application of Mathematics. She also didn’t need to know that the full Cutlery set that she had purchased last week had been made by Vi’s own hand as her first full solo commission set. Benjamin had stamped his “mark” on them, because slaves were not allowed to own anything, including their own work; but Vi had begun with raw steel and finished with one of the finest cooking knife sets he had seen in this world or his.

Benjamin settled onto a bench outside, using the excuse of wanting to enjoy the morning air to afford his girls some privacy. Now that Viola and Valtrya were eating a healthy diet, and the right calorie amount; they had blossomed into absolute bombshells. Their hair had recovered, and both sported long flowing locks that boasted a silky satin black color and texture that betrayed hints of deep royal purple. The color reminded Benjamin of one of those expensive custom car paints that changed color depending on the lighting.

Their skin recovered almost as quickly as their hair. The sickly, scabbed look was quickly replaced with the same satin quality as their hair to the touch, but with a light grey coloring that almost seemed to tease the edge of hinting at a greyish purple. A dense pattern of Small freckles of the same dark, almost royal, purple as the highlights in their hair frolicked on both girl’s cheeks, and down the sides of their necks. Because of their early lack of understanding on modestly, Ben knew that those freckles traveled much further. The sad truth was that Benjamin understood fully why Aereesen’s were the prize of slavers and brothels, and he silently prayed that he could give them enough self-worth and skill to have a better life than that, once he got them out of the Principality.

A door’s soft creaking broke Benjamin from his thoughts as the two sisters stepped out smiling, “Get everything you need?” he asked standing as the three of them departed the establishment. Val nodded vigorously, and Vi smiled as she spoke, “I think so, but I had to practically beg the woman to stop showing us lingerie… what did you tell her?” Benjamin felt his cheeks heat as he responded, “What I had to. The old hag doesn’t get enough at home. It’s not my fault that your ‘enthusiasm’ is in the forge and your studies, not between the sheets. I didn’t lie to her, I just let her draw her own conclusions, sorry.”

Vi’s eyes twinkled for a second, “Oh,” She smirked, “Thaaat’s why she broke out the silk. Some of her options were..” She blatantly bit her lip at Benjamin. “You didn’t…” He asked in shock, and Vi lifted up on her tippy toes to brush her lips against his ear, “Not telling” she purred, setting Bens senses on fire. She backed up a step, openly smirking at his beet red face. “But your expression is adorable… My Lord” She stated the last two words with a deep sultry tone, knowing that Ben couldn’t scold her in public before taking his hand, “May we visit the bazar next? Val saw some jewelry she wanted to look at.” Benjamin gave her a pointed look, that turned into a smile as she beamed at him, “Ok, sounds good. I need to pick up some food for the week.”

It was later that afternoon when the three of them left the bazar. They found Jukha waiting on the bench in front of their home. “Jukha! How are you!” Benjamin called, clasping the Orc’s hand firmly as the girls rushed inside to put up their purchases. Jukha reciprocated, if somewhat stiffly, to the strange to him gesture. “Benjamin, it is good to see you well.” His tone stopped Ben in his tracks, “What is it. Is your wife, ok?”
Jukha shook his head, “Vilora is well, but I have been tasked with finding you.” He said carefully, “The slaver, the one you dueled for those two,” he nodded to Vi and Val as they stepped back out of the building, “The Heir of The Romoregin house is here. He has lodged an official demand for satisfaction, and he brought a champion.”

Benjamin stiffened, “Another duel? You said an ‘official demand’… what happens if I refuse.” Jukha winced at Ben’s tone, “It is an archaic practice of my people, rarely remembered, and even more rarely demanded. You cannot deny a satisfaction claim, but should you prevail, no further claims can be made upon your person. I am sorry Benjamin, but if you flee or refuse, your life is forfeit; and your property goes to the claimant.” Jukha looked pointedly at Viola and Valtrya. “The young puke has put me in danger as well, if I do not deliver you and them to the duel, I can be detained. If they torture me….” Benjamin’s eyes widened before hardening in understanding. “Jukha…” He turned to find Viola standing next to him, with his musket in one arm and his ammunition bag in the other, and sighed, “Fuck”. He loaded his musket with a single roundball cartridge this time, unwilling to fire buck and ball in the town streets. He pealed the ball out of the paper wading after pouring the poweder, reaching into his haversack to retrieve a small round patch made of pillow ticking. Jukha looked on in mild fascination as Benjamin spit on the cloth patch before wrapping the ball in it and ramming the whole thing down the barrel. It wasn’t much, but it reduce windage, ensuring at least reasonable enough accuracy from the smoothbore to keep from hitting innocent bystanders. It would also virtually eliminate blow-by, upping the chamber pressure and giving him a little more velocity. “I’m ready.”

The four of them entered the small city square to be met with Qort and three Org guards. These soldiers wore different insignia that Benjamin had been taught were the mark of the capital. “Beenjaymen Shayfe” one of them butchered his name, “I am.” Ben nodded firmly, the other guard nodded, “And your two slaves, good. Has Jukha informed you of the proceedings.” Benjamin scowled, “A legalized way to attempt a revenge killing? Yea, I’ve been told.” Ben didn’t bother to hide his vitriol, “So I have to kill a motherfucker for defending myself from his father?”

“Not quite. The Heir has brought a champion. The rules are simple, all forms of combat are allowed” The first guard began as the second one began chaining the wrists of Viola and Valtrya. Benjamin began to move before thinking, only to be held back by Jukha, “Peace albino. They must do this. Fighting them will cause a forfeit.” Benjamin looked at the terrified faces of the two girls. He forced himself to calm down outwardly, but Benjamin could feel the rage building. He had worked so hard to save those two, to get them out.. now some snot nosed brat was going to try to kill him because his father didn’t know when to fuck off. Benjamin stepped out from around the guards. The “heir” was a young Durr. Ben had no frame of reference for age, but the Heir was substantially shorter, and his facial tentacles were almost mere buds. Beside him stood a crimson colossus, the same species as the Hunter he had shot saving Jukha. He was taller than that female, and was wearing plate armor, gilded in silver. He hefted a great sword of some kind and smiled openly at Benjamin. It was not a pleasant expression. “Ah, so You’re the puke I’ll be cleaning from my blade. I am Krastorin. Come here, pale one, I’ll make it quick.”

Benjamin looked him over, subtly shifting into a shooting stance but keeping his musket looking like he was resting the butt of a spear on the ground. “You look accomplished, what makes you do the bidding of the boy.” He asked, blatant scorn on his tone. The Young Durr flinched, his small tentacle buds writhing violently. “H’Dare Yee!” he bellowed, voice cracking with the strain of fury, “Aye’ll ‘ave Yee Head on Me’Wall!!”
Benjamin ignored him, focusing on the Hellirine. The man looked back at the boy with a raised eyebrow, “The young puke promised me one of those.” He pointed at Vi and Val, who had reverted to their former trembling submissive postures that Ben had met them in. “It appears that they are as well kept as claimed. I look forward to sampling them.” He leered. Benjamin looked over at the Young Durr and found his face a mixture of relief and anger. ‘Ah, lied about daddy’s slaves.’ He turned to the soldier standing next to him, “Is the duel on?” he growled.

“Combatants! Begin!” was the Soldiers response, and the crimson mercenary lifted his sword from his shoulders advancing forward with a long confident stride, “at last, let’s get this over wi..” a clap of thunder echo’d through the Feral wood, and most of the crowd cried out in surprise as Benjamin disappeared, seemingly behind a bubble of fire, and brimstone. The single round ball ignored the mercenary’s plate armor. Punching straight through as the soft lead mushroomed out into a ragged disk that measured almost an inch and a half. The mangled projectile, still travelling at almost half the speed of sound, eviscerated the chest cavity of the Mercenary before blowing a one foot wide hole out of the crimson man’s back. The exit wound missed Krastorin’s spine by an inch, but it didn’t matter. The projectile embedded itself into a post, thankfully missing any bystanders by mere inches in some cases. The Young Durr, who was standing just behind and to the side of his champion, was screaming as he pawed at the bits of pale yellow blood, bones, and fragments of internal organs now covering him from head to toe.

Benjamin handed the smoking musket to Jukha, drawing his short sword and walking over to a sputtering, choking, and coughing Krastorin. The Hellirine lay face down on the ground, having fallen that way from the momentum of his initial advance. The back of Benjamins mind was sickly amused as he remembered the old Hollywood trope of bullets throwing people backward, and a pinch of regret sparked in his soul as his opponent death rattled. He stepped up to the Heir, resting the blade against his neck, “Are we done here. Be a better man than your father and learn when to save your own life.” The Young Durr froze, staring up at him in abject terror for several moments as a puddle formed at his feet. Benjamin opened his mouth to speak again when the boy simply passed out, falling into the puddle of his own mess as his mind refused to stay conscious.

Benjamin turned to walk back towards Jukha and the girls. “Unchain them.” Benjamin’s tone could have frozen a raging forge’s inferno. To his surprise, two of the soldiers drew their weapons on him, “You need to come with us. All Touched must be registered with...” Benjamin pointed his short sword at the one talking… and pulled the trigger. The percussion revolver built into the hilt of the short sword was zero’d using a notch Benjamin cut into the crossguard, and the tip of the curved blade as a crude set of open sights. The barrel of the revolver lay along one side of the blade, and was rifled. The speaking soldier orc’s took the smaller pistol round through the forehead, exploding the back of his skull in a cone of dark green and grey mist. The exit wound showered his companion in bits of bone and brains. Benjamin’s thumb found the hammer, and four satisfying clicks echo’d in the stunned silence, “HEAR ME!” He growled, “I, am touched by the Gods. I posses the power to end any life I choose using the power of Hell itself!” ‘if I have to show them a gun, might as well throw them off the trail’ “The violence of the raging volcano obeys my very fingertips.” His revolvesword bucked a second time as another soldier orc made a move to rush him. The smaller pistol round still punched through the orcs armor and out the back, but only left him screaming on the ground. Benjamin re-cocked, and leveled his weapon at the orc holding the chains to Val and Vi. “Now, release them.” This last remaining Orc did as asked, before gathering up his screaming companion as the girls rushed to Benjamin, he pulled them close, whispering, “I’m sorry we wont be able to pick up your dresses.”

The three of them packed up that night. Qort had understood, knowing all too well what the Principality would do to acquire a Touched of Benjamins ability. “Stay safe my friend. I pray our paths cross again.” Jukha snuck them out of the village that night, using his wagon to get them to his home. They stayed a week, laying low while they planned their next move. The girls spent their time learning recipes from Jukha’s wife, and ben took the time to unwind a bit. Jukha and He went on a hunt, and Benjamin was given a run down on the flora and fauna of the Feral wood. The two of them brought back a pair of Stags, and the three women cooked them a feast.

“Dinner’s ready!!” called Viola, setting the last of the sides on the table as the dutch oven roasted meat was brought off of the stove top. It was a simple yet elegant meal. Stag, potatoes, some kind of Kale style vegetable that Benjamin had never seen before. Soon enough, everyone at the table was leaning back, as full as they could make themselves. “So, pinkskin,” Jukha asked, “Where do you plan on going. I wouldn’t mind you staying with me. I could use another hunter, but I suspect that they would notice the extra product I brought to the village.”

Benjamin Hummed, “The Maridian Combine. Qort told me that they banned slavery over a century ago, the girls have learned so much already. It would be easy to find jobs for them.” Vi and Val drooped slightly but hid it well. Jukha noticed it but said nothing. “A good choice, their boarders are well guarded, you would need to free them before you cross, or end up in a dungeon yourself.”

“Good point, I can write up a simple writ of freedom. Something I can sign and give to them.” Benjamin nodded, “I can get started on that to…” he paused as a hand fell on his. He looked to see Viola staring at him, fighting back tears, “Hey, what’s wrong. You will be free…” Jukha nodded slowly and stood. “love,” he said to Vilora, “I need some help with the livestock” The Farie met his eyes in unspoken understanding, fluttering out the front door with Jukha.

“Vi, what’s wrong.” Benjamin asked gently.

“No… go… Val… stay…” Both of them turned to Valtrya in shock. She was trembling, “I wont..leave.”

“You speak?” Benjamin looked in shock, but Viola spoke next, “Benjamin, we don’t want to leave. We want to stay, with you. I…” She paused. Ben sighed, “I want you to stay too.” He said, finally admitting it to himself, “But I can’t own you. It’s killing me that you are my property.” He reached up and wiped a tear from Vi’s eyes, “You are so much more than property. I feel evil, every day that I wake up knowing that I could do anything I wanted to you, or worse, die and have someone else hurt you for the fun of it.” Benjamin bowed his head. Viola reached out, lifting his chin to look into his eyes, “Then come with us.” She whispered as Val stood up and stepped around the table, “yes.. You, come.” She wrapped herself around Ben from the side leaning in until she was resting her head against his shoulder, “I’m… staying.. with you.” she said softly. Viola nodded, “Benjamin, how old do you think we are.”

Ben looked at her in confusion, “I have no idea, I’ve always assumed you were teenagers. 13-14 years old for Val, maybe 16 for you, but that was when you were skin and bones.” He admitted.

Viola’s eyes widened in understanding. “You did not want to bed us because you thought us children.” Benjamin nodded slowly, answering. “And forcing sex on a child is the worst kind of crime on my world”. Viola and Valtrya looked at each other, before Vi spoke. “Ben, my sister will turn one hundred and three in a fortnight. I just had my one hundred and fifteenth birthday last week.” She leaned in, pressing her lips to Bens as she kissed him passionately for a moment. “We are no children,” Viola paused as Valtrya leaned in, kissing Ben lightly on the neck, “You are not forcing us to do anything, but leave.” Viola whispered as she began to close in to a surprised Benjamin for another kiss.

The door to the cabin flew open violently, and the girls pulled back to a more modest distance. Jukha walked in, carrying a panting Vilora. “What happened.” Ben asked hurriedly, hoping he wasn’t blushing as hard as the heat on his cheeks suggested. Vilora waved a hand as Jukha set her down in her chair, “The Vin… My sisters… they reached out… They wish to meet…” The Farie gathered herself, “They also sent a warning. We must leave, tonight… hunters.”
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If you made it this far, I very much appreciate it. I hope you enjoyed the episode! If you believe I have earned it, I have a Patreon that is two episodes ahead of the free releases for this series. I hope you feel taking a look is worth it. Either way, come hang out in the comments. Everyone's welcome! I've discovered Im a bit of a "warts and all" poster, so even critical comments are welcome. Hell, You might even teach me something (it happens more than I'd like to admit).
I have heard people off and on reference Royal road, So I am going to give it another shot. I'll be adding the Royal Road link from now on. If you like reading over there, It is on the same schedule as here. I would greatly appreciate a like/review/comment if you feel so inclined. Thank you again for stopping by.
First, Previous, Next (Patreon) Royal Road

I’m back again with another personal looking for that special someone. To the fakes and ladies trying to score a free trip to Asia. Stop trying. It doesn’t work. And AMEX has amazing fraud protection.
Anyway here we go! I’ll start off with the basics so I don’t have to answer those questions a million times in DMs again.
I am a 33 year old White American living and working in japan. I am contractor, my current stay here is for 3 more years. I am very financially sound (well over 200k annual, after taxes and before any bonuses or per diem). I am 6 feet tall and weigh 220lbs (working on it). I enjoy sports, specifically football and boxing. Movies, and cars.
You: please be under 40, ethnicity is irrelevant, I welcome all cultures. Please be semi height/weight proportional. I have a little extra and don’t mind if you do too; but morbid obesity doesn’t usually end well for traditional gender roles when you die and I’m stuck with kids. I like women who have a “traditional” sense of fashion. I like my woman to wear heels, skirts, and nylons or stockings. If you hate those things. We probably won’t even get along.
I am ok with having a stay at home partner. I am more than ok providing financially; but I’m not here for free rides.
Kids: ideally 2. 3 would be fine but that’s it.
Religion: I’m not religious, if you are. Cool.
Anything else. I am an open book. So please feel free to reach out.

Brag about yourself or talk to me about your hardships. I just want to listen in on your life choices and the successes or failures you’ve encountered. Do you see yourself as prepared for life once you’re out of high school? Do you know what you want to do?…and does your brag sheet look spectacular? or just mediocre. Are you letting standardized tests define you? Have you started writing your essays? Do you have a college list?
Let me know! You can trauma dump or just talk about how great you are, there is no wrong answer.

A couple of years ago I had a piece of acrylic custom cut for my swing out window, to size and with the a/c hose cutout. It cost $130 approx at Industrial Plastics.
Talked to them a while back and now it's $300 for the same thing. Before I use Styrofoam or plywood, does anyone have any suggestions for another local company who does this? I know the edges are easy but the hose insert spot likely needs a CNC or laser.
Alternatively, I'm a handy dude and am willing to try making it myself out of scrap/cheap sheet. Open to suggestions on where to find that (aside from the big box stores if possible).

I spent from nov of 06 till june 0f 2018 with a government agency just hit a wall and needed to take a break. spent the better part of 3.5 years floating from one shitty job to the next mostly retail or quick jobs couldn't really find something I wanted to do (granted I quit a lot of those jobs after a cup of coffee ) Could of been burn out, could of been being tired of getting hired for a job that needed 20 people to run and it was me the new guy and 4 other people, honestly probably it was my BS meter was on full and I just don't want to put up with that amount of BS so I would leave.
Now after 3.5 years I decided to go back to the agency job and found out that nothing changed and honestly gave it a good 2 years and decided that I just had enough. Now that I am looking for serious work again I find companies are just not interested in me. Today I got done with a psych exam for a state agency everything seemed ok till we got to the part where I needed to go through my work history.
The person grilled me like i was some sort of ex con that had a wrap sheet a mile long so why did you quit so and so. I answered truthfully as I could but got the feeling that I am now out of the running for this current job offering. The thing that pisses me off the most is that I was honest with the interviewers and they seemed not bothered with my work history but now that this Psych exam took place . I just don't know yes I did it to myself but does it really matter that someone quit some give me jobs in the grand scheme of things? Especially when at any given time a job can let you go for any number of reasons and working in a state that allows you and the company to part ways for any reason I just don't get it.

I (20 AMAB) am trying to figure somethings out right now, My brain has been different from the things it overthinks about. Its not the first time Ive thought about my own Gender Identity in general, and I dont think will be the last either.
Some Backstory: I grew up in a catholic household, parents or family were never too too religious and I lost hope in the catholic god and catholicism when I was younger. (No offense to any one who follows that religion, just not for me). There were days when I was younger I resented for being a guy because of "societal" pressure to conform to this specific gender role, what I should like, what toys I should play with, how I should dress, how I should act, and especially how my emotions should be presented. Ive been a more emotional person, to where my father has called me a sissy or a p***y and such, just for crying. (My emotions are more repressed now but that later).It doesnt help that no matter when I try to talk to this to family they always say "Oh thats not you" and such. Or just the topic of it seems to make them angry or uncomfortable and it just makes me feel trapped. I have constantly heard especially recently how Im supposed to think, or what my thoughts were and it pisses me off a bit because no one knows what I think about other than me and no one listens when I try to tell them. I just wondered what It would be like to be a girl, or just a different gender. Wearing Dressings, being cutesy, pretty, painting nails, having the body of a woman and such. It was something I genuinely looked into how dreams work to try and force dreams where I was a girl. (Yes it did work only twice tho). I would pray to god at the time in which I believed in to make me a girl, or to just swap bodies into a girl into a different family as well. At the time I didnt really think much of it, I met someone, he found out he was trans and is f2m. Ive support him the whole way but never thought I could ever do anything with my gender. I mean I was born a guy at birth I have to be a guy right? My family are quite homophobic and transphobic but not, if that makes sense. They have clear gender roles towards things.
Those specific gender roles they believe in have recently felt suffocating now. Just seeing my sister scoffs at men wearing skirts, or my parents having an issue with guys painting there nails. Its just, it sucks. Especially since these things interest me as of more recent. Speeding up to the present. I have a close friend, she is M2F and has just told me a lot about her personal experiences and such as we have grown closer over time. Over these past 2ish months I have re opened the pardoras box of gender. It has caused a lot of internal stress within myself, and just made my whole life a living hell of sleepless nights and overthinking. I experimented with Pronouns and different names. She/Her, going by Brie, now I have taken a step back and am going by my birth name and assigned pronouns at birth. Honestly, in a way I kind of miss it even if It made me dissociate from reality and how I felt, I liked it. But, it was just too much all at once. So I took the step back.
Somedays I look at myself in the shower and want tits, or rather it be smooth down there instead of well yeah... I want to wear certain clothes more feminine clothes. But than I just take a look in the mirror and its hard to see, me as a woman in general. I know E is a hell of a drug and can do some crazy and wild stuff. But than just somedays it doesnt bug me as much, I dont think too deep on it at all. My philosophy used to be just work with what I got, and if I was born a girl maybe I would be happier but that road is closed. But, I know its not either, Its hard to figure out who I want to be. I know it doesnt need to be Girl, it could be Demi-girl, Non-Binary, Gender fluid and so many more. Im going to therapy already, and she knows all about this. And Im working on getting a psychiatrist to get some answers on other mental stuff going on. Im planning on going to an Expo in a maid outfit to just wear a more feminine clothing out in public to get a feel for it all.
I just I know it all takes time, but in the perfect world in my head I believe im a woman, but I just dont feel like that perfect world is exactly possible. I have a plan but im also confused, im giving it time but the time doesnt help all too much. I thought I knew what I wanted but maybe I was wrong.
Sorry for this wall post, I just felt I needed to say this properly, and just kinda hear what people have to say to it. Thanks. Im willing to answer questions if needed.

Wake up, poke, test, inject the insulin, lunch poke injections, supper poke injections . Before I go to bed and wake up, short acting injections. I’m only 36 and my body is rotting away and I am alone. Everyone I know is dead. Hundreds….. everyone. It’s like a fucking battle field. Everyone talks shit about me…. When your down you see who your real friends are. Even my family has turned their back. My grandmother who I love just had a stroke last week, my grandfather two heart attacks. My godmother is on life support. My best friends, a while click of hundreds of us are all fucking dead. My friend just blew his head off last month. I want to fucking die I’m just trying to get the courage. All I have is my dogs. That’s all. But I can’t live for them. Please don’t judge me….. I just want to know ideas on what to do to get pumped enough to pull. God please, I’ve called out to you so many times and you never answered. I haven’t had a woman in years. I have no one. I just waste away in my room all day and night. It’s been like this for years. I just lay there. Like I’m already asleep in a box. When I go they’re going to crack my skull open and take out my brain. Take out all my organs. Then drain my blood and fill me up with some kind of solution so I don’t stink like death. I’ll have that nice formaldehyde smell. I used to hate that smell but now it’s like a comfort. I wonder what they will Find when they slice my brain into little pieces. My own mother calls me a fucking waste, a mistake, a fucking fat looser junkie….she posts fucked up videos of my on Facebook. Everyone in my home town has seen them. No one will talk to Me. I want to die but I don’t want to be embalmed. I just want to go In a box and sleep. There’s a reason they bring flowers. Funny thing is, NOBODY WILL GO. That’s what hurts the most. I was close. I remembered waking up not knowing where I was or who I was for about 15 minutes. I couldn’t talk. All I could understand was that I was me…………I remembered when I opened my eyes….if they cut me up it’s ok. I think fent is the best way. I’m going to go tomorrow and free everyone from me. No one seems the struggle, they only see the trouble, not knowing it’s hard to keep going when nobody loves you.

Hi all! Moved into a new apartment and so far so good. I am wanting to bring my stuff out of storage and I couldn’t find a specific answer for this. I have all my stuff packed in plastic bins with alcohol soaked paper towels in each one and they are taped shut. The boxes have been sitting in a climate controlled storage unit for 3 weeks. Is it safe to assume that anything that could’ve been in there has died and I can bring them to my new place? Thanks in advance!

Welcome to the Reverse: 1999 Daily Questions Megathread!

Please use this thread to ask any general inquiries about Reverse: 1999. Also, kindly search keywords under this thread as your questions may have already been answered by other Timekeepers.
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Q1. Should I re-roll?

• This depends on how much time you have to dedicate to re-rolling. In general, all three of the beginner banner characters are great, and you have options of doing shortelonger re-rolls, as per this guide.

Q2. Why is my answer incorrect in for the trail puzzle?

• Try to answer with proper letter casing - the answers are case-sensitive.

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• The game resets at 10:00 UTC, please refer to this timer.

Q4. Does pity transfer over to the next banner?

• Yes, pity should transfer over to the next banner of the same type.

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• In general, teams consist of a single damage dealer that get supported by support-type characters, but there are many variations. We encourage you to take a look at some of the guides above!

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• From the main screen/lobby, refer to the left icon below the Bank, go to Atlas, then go to the Story Review. This does not currently apply for event stories, unfortunately.

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• This will depend on a character-by-character basis. In general, however, there should not be a large importance on getting duplicate copies of a character.

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• Please refer to the investment guide listed above.

Q9. What should I purchase in the Psychube Shop (Thought Elements/Thoughts in Eternity)?

• Do not buy the 5-star psychubes, as we will eventually get enough 6-stars.
• Prioritization order:

1. LF Polarization
2. Englighten I
3. Enlighten II

Q10. What should I prioritize in the Oneric Shop (Oneric Fluid)?

• Prioritization order:

1. Monthy Brief Cacophony
2. Crystal Casket
3. Permanent Brief Cacophony (or Moment of Dissonance to craft Brief Cacophony if needed)
4. Sonorous Knell

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M1. Are macros and auto-clickers allowed?

• No. They are against the game's terms of service; any usage will risk the potential of being banned.

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I spent from nov of 06 till june 0f 2018 with a government agency just hit a wall and needed to take a break. spent the better part of 3.5 years floating from one shitty job to the next mostly retail or quick jobs couldn't really find something I wanted to do (granted I quit a lot of those jobs after a cup of coffee ) Could of been burn out, could of been being tired of getting hired for a job that needed 20 people to run and it was me the new guy and 4 other people, honestly probably it was my BS meter was on full and I just don't want to put up with that amount of BS so I would leave.
Now after 3.5 years I decided to go back to the agency job and found out that nothing changed and honestly gave it a good 2 years and decided that I just had enough. Now that I am looking for serious work again I find companies are just not interested in me. Today I got done with a psych exam for a state agency everything seemed ok till we got to the part where I needed to go through my work history.
The person grilled me like i was some sort of ex con that had a wrap sheet a mile long so why did you quit so and so. I answered truthfully as I could but got the feeling that I am now out of the running for this current job offering. The thing that pisses me off the most is that I was honest with the interviewers and they seemed not bothered with my work history but now that this Psych exam took place . I just don't know yes I did it to myself but does it really matter that someone quit some give me jobs in the grand scheme of things? Especially when at any given time a job can let you go for any number of reasons and working in a state that allows you and the company to part ways for any reason I just don't get it.

Guilt can eat you alive, I can say I experienced it first hand.
When people think of cannibalism, notorious serial killers like Jeffery Dahmer, Ted Bundy will pop into anyone's head
Though there is another type of cannibalism that is far less comprehensible then just regular, and that is auto cannibalism. Eating oneself.
Its even been labeled as a disorder called autophagia, usually co-morbid with things such as schizophrenia, psychosis, the types of things that will put you strapped to a bed basically.
I have autophagia, but I'm not crazy? I work, I go to school, I have friends, I have a life.
Sure I may have a little bit of darker thoughts then some people but that can be hidden
Until I decided to take action on it.
First it started with scabs, disgusting, I know. Eating scabs is something you wouldn’t normally see but it's just like someone biting their nails or chewing their coffin nails. It wasn't a bad thing, even if the taste was bad.
Food fills your senses, you can feel it on the flavor coating your tongue till it goes down your throat. Scabs on the other hand are grainy and have somewhat an iron kind of taste. It could go from feeling liquid pus to dried blood at times to. I accepted these tastes, I don't know why. I don't know. Then a stench, a stench you can taste, it's as if eating a band-aid that you have had on for the weekend was shoved down your throat.
I know it was disgusting
I felt disgusting
And somehow it just made me keep doing it
After a while of this I needed something more, I needed more tastes.
What is beneath the pale skin that I see, how white is a bone, what will muscle tissue look like before a wound clots with blood. What did all of these things taste like inside of me. I could go on about the details I was so morbidly curious about my body.
But I am not fucking crazy.
I can't be, I still function, I can see, I can work, I can eat. I can do everything a person can do, it's like living a double life of just someone I truly wanted to be and it was a curious person to explore, needed to explore what lied beneath me.
I started cutting myself, first it started with tiny, open wounds that showed a white sheet beneath. It was intriguing. I would pry at my cuts, open them with my fingers as wide as I could, try and peer at what was inside of me.
Eventually I got to see though.
Now, before I go into to much detail about this I did at this point show some kind of… off-ness my friends realized. I would get band-aids more often, not caring to answer my friends questions on why I was. I started to take energy pills because I was always cutting I got tired, so quickly. I stayed awake to cut, I maybe got two hours of sleep those days.
My family told me during this time of my life, there was nothing behind my eyes. It was was just dark, there was no flickering interest of anything. I would avoid there eyes but when they caught a glimpse it was as if they were struck with the fear that I wasn't human anymore because of my lack of life.
I had an obsession at this point.

For context I live in the Ottawa region in Canada and pauper events are… hard to come by, to say the least. I know of one store that actually has scheduled weekly events though it’s roughly 35min away and I sometimes work on Sundays (the day of the events).
I’ve looked through at least 5 LGS, none of them have events. One had a fb group w some people who had pauper decks but the group was for the whole store. I tried asking around my local LGS if people were interested or would be interested to try some decks since I made a battle box, and… the answer was no?
Modern is not viable for a majority of players due to price or bc of the state of the game rn with power creep ; standard is nonexistent here; pioneer is hit or miss on which LGS has events for it. Commander is the most lively format and I hear people talk about trying 60-card formats all the time, so why are people hating on pauper?
It’s cheap; its meta is varied; even if people think it’s slow, a 1-v-1 pauper match will be much more representative of a 60-card format than a competitive game of edh imo. I just don’t understand why it’s so hard to find spaces to play this format?

Animal‌-Man/Swamp‌ ‌Thing

Issue‌ 32:‌ ‌ The Pale Wanderer
Written‌ ‌by‌ ‌Deadislandman1
Edited‌ ‌by‌ PatrollinTheMojave
 
Next‌ ‌Issue‌ ‌> ‌Coming‌ ‌Soon
 
Arc: Flesh and Bark‌ ‌
 ‌ ‌
‌  ‌ ‌
Then
An arc of purple lightning flashed across the night sky of the Boneyard, splitting the dark sky in twain as Capucine trudged across the ashy wastes of the realm. A cold gale ripped through the land, chilling the warrior to the bone, yet after centuries of time living in the Rot’s home realm, it felt identical to the ocean breeze that graced her every evening of her monastic childhood. Anxious, she fiddled with her leather armor, tightening every strap and support to make sure they were all in the right positions. She double checked that her sheath was properly tied to her belt, and that the steel sword within was sharp and clean.
He would catch up to her sooner or later, almost certainly before she made it to the portal. It wasn’t hard to pick that fact up. The Boneyard always became a little rougher when he wasn’t happy. She’d endeavored to spare him a difficult conversation, but perhaps that was too optimistic a hope. He was smart for someone his age, even if he’d made such a grave mistake.
Perhaps she was trying to spare herself the labor of having a conversation, rather than trying to keep the adolescent Avatar’s emotions in check. Perhaps she was just running from her problems, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before. Perhaps her ambitions to steer the young Avatar towards better decisions was the wrong choice on her part.
…No. Her advice was invaluable, she knew that much, and William Holland took that advice well. She just wasn’t in much of a position to give advice anymore.
Climbing atop an gray, dusty hill, Capucine gazed at the portal back to the physical world, composed of a miasma of swirling bones and inky fluids. To the unadjusted nose, it smelled absolutely foul, but to Capucine it smelled no different than the rest of the Boneyard. This was her ticket back, to somewhere where she’d do… something.
She didn’t know what that something was. In fact, she felt nauseous at the idea of wandering the world for centuries yet again with no real goal or purpose, though when considering the alternative, Capucine was ready to step right through the portal, even if her reason for leaving was so small in the grand scheme of things.
Breathless, Capucine took one step towards the portal, only for a boom of thunder to shake the realm. Capucine stopped dead in her tracks, sighing. William didn’t need to say anything to get her attention, as she turned around, coming face to face with the young Avatar.
He’d grown quite a bit in the three years she’d been advising him. His mane of red hair had regained some of its color, and across his pale face stood the beginnings of a beard, with bits of pronounced stubble around his chin and above his lips. He remained as gaunt as ever, yet he’d also grown much taller since his beginning as the Rot’s leader. He looked Capucine in the eyes, keeping his expression as blank as possible, “I got your note.”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “So you did.”
William’s bottom lip quivered, “There’s no way I can change your mind…is there?”
“Not that I can see,” Capucine remarked.
William’s head drifted to the side as he attempted to avert his gaze, hiding his eyes from Capucine behind his wild hair. He choked back something, maybe a sob, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It was a mistake.”
Capucine took a step forward, feeling the urge to console the boy, yet as she reached out towards him, she found herself frozen by trepidation. She was not a woman of gentle words, and this was a situation that called for them. Rescinding her hand, she stepped back towards the portal, “What’s done is done. I do not hate you, William Arcane, but I cannot stay here.”
Capucine turned her back on William, readying herself to step through the portal. She took one step, then another before William spoke once more, “Tefé.”
Capucine stopped, electing not to turn back and face the young Avatar. Realizing that she was waiting for him to continue, William spoke again, “My sister. I know her, she’s got a good heart, but she’s not like me. She’s not an Avatar. She could always use someone to watch her back.”
For a moment, Capucine did not answer, and the silence seemed to push William to take a few steps back. Turning, he began to walk away, unable to think of much else to say, when Capucine finally answered back, “If she is the sister of William Arcane…then I know her to be someone of good character. Your advice is invaluable, Avatar. Thank you.”
Without another word, Capucine stepped through the portal, disappearing from the Boneyard. William stared at the portal for what felt like hours before he finally shuddered, his shaky breathing accompanied by a single tear that froze up on its way down his cheek, stopping short as a bead of ice just before it fell off of his jaw.
Now
“So you’re here because my brother suggested it?”
“That’s correct.”
Capucine answered Tefé’s inquiry in a dry manner, keeping most of her focus on cleaning the gasoline off her sword with a rag. She sat upon the corpse of the formerly living infected tree, using it as a comfortable log of sorts while Maxine and Tefé remained in their canoe, having managed to dock it by tying it to a nearby set of protruding roots. It was about noon now, and the Florida heat had become unbearable. Maxine wiped her forehead, expecting that she’d probably be dead without the trees as a shield from the sun.
Tefé rubbed her throat, recovering from the vice grip of the tree, “I…how is he? He’s not in trouble is he?”
“Far from it. Your brother is doing better than most. He’s got a keen mind for leadership, and the Rot endures with him as its head,” Capucine sheathed her sword. “He doesn’t need my advice anymore, and I do the world no favors remaining at his side. If I am to continue the preservation of a better world, then it’s best I accompany you instead.”
Tefé grumbled a little, but also couldn’t help but smile, “So the little rascal thinks I need a hand, huh? Thinks I need advice.”
Tefé smirked, then looked up at Capucine, “Got any words of wisdom for me?”
Capucine looked down at the tree carcass, then back at Tefé, “Don’t get grabbed by monstrous trees.”
Tefé swallowed, “Yeah…sound advice.”
Maxine stared at the water, noting that its viscosity had remained unchanged, “Uh…guys? I think there are more gasoline trees somewhere out there. I feel like it would’ve cleared up at least a little bit.”
Capucine jumped into the canoe, breaking the rope keeping it moored with her bare hands, “Then we find the source of the infestation, and remove it.”
Maxine and Tefé didn’t do anything to impede Capucine’s actions, though they were certainly taken aback by this old English era woman taking charge of their mission. Without a word, Capucine grabbed a paddle and began rowing upstream, her toned build making what was a laborious task for Tefé effortless. The trio moved upstream at a rapid pace, with Capucine barely making a single grunt or noise as she paddled onward. As the hours went by, the water to gasoline ratio of the river continued to tip in the gasoline’s favor, to the point that eventually Capucine looked like she was putting real effort into her paddling.
Tefé stared at the woman, unsure of what to make of her, “So…Capucine?”
“Yes?”
“I know your name, I know you’ve been…advising my brother. What else do you do? What’s your story?”
Capucine frowned, “To be brief…I was born over a thousand years ago in Lindisfarne Abbey. What happened after is a personal matter, and one I’d rather not discuss. Similarly, discussing how I came to be immortal, and what I’ve done in the many centuries afterwards would doubtlessly be a fruitless and boring exercise. That energy is better spent rowing.”
Tefé raised an eyebrow, “Okay….then, why are you doing any of this? What drives you to help us?”
Capucine paused for a moment, allowing the canoe to slow in its approach upriver. Then, she snorted, a small smile forming as she began to paddle once more, “I’ve lived long enough to know this is a good place, a good world. I like it intact and alive, and I’d do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
“Uh…good answer,” Tefé turned her attention to the rest of the forest, watching carefully for threats. Capucine was certainly blunt, and maybe a little scary looking, but from what she could tell the woman wasn’t much of a danger. If she wanted to learn more, she could do that after the case of Silver Springs was solved.
Maxine grimaced, staring at the thick gasoline they were rowing through, “What do you think is causing this stuff? The closest thing I can think of is the Rot but…part of me can’t put that picture together.”
“Because this is not the Rot’s doing. William is well aware of these kinds of problems, and manages them well. He would never allow something like this to escalate as far as it has,” Capucine grunted, her sheath rattling against the interior of the canoe. “This is something different.”
“Oil’s a fossil fuel, right?” Maxine asked, “Could there be any connection?”
“Perhaps, but this isn’t just oil, it’s gasoline. It’s processed,” Capucine grunted, the act of rowing becoming tougher. “Something is turning the oil into Gasoline. Maybe it’s the trees, maybe it’s something else.”
“But what force would do that? There’s definitely something magical going on about these things,” Maxine asked.
Capucine frowned, “I am…unsure. I’ve not heard of any force that pertains to these properties. Perhaps one of them has evolved. Such an occurrence is not unheard of; the Red does it all the time.”
“Or maybe…someone’s twisting a force into something it isn’t,” said Tefé. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Eventually, the boat rounded a corner, passing another infected tree. Maxine and Tefé readied themselves, only for Capucine to keep paddling, “Do not bother with them. They’re symptoms, not the cause.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow, “And the cause is….where?”
Capucine pointed down the river, and past a muddy, poisoned shore sat an entire row of the ailing cypresses, encircling a clearing of some kind. As the canoe pushed up against the mid, Capucine trudged out, making her way towards the clearing with her hand on her longsword’s hilt. The trees seemed to regard her, blatantly still conscious, yet they did not attack. Maxine and Tefé followed in trepidation, eyeing the trees in suspicion.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Maxine asked.
“I don’t know,” Capucine remarked. “Perhaps they’re afraid.”
“Of you…or of something else?” Tefé wondered aloud.
As the three entered the clearing, they came across a sight none of them would have expected…a human heart.
It laid in the mud, rooted by cartilage that snaked its way beneath the earth. It beat with a satisfying rhythm, pulsating as if it still rested inside the body of a living man. A thick liquid permeated the mud, shifting outward from the heart.
Gasoline.
Capucine drew her sword, preparing to stab the heart with it. Eyes wide, Maxine jumped in front of her, “Woah woah woah, what are you doing?!”
“I’m removing the problem,” Capucine remarked.
“But…but…we don’t know what this thing even is?”
Capucine sneered at Maxine, “Is it not obvious? Someone or something has perverted an object of the Red, and that infection is spreading to the Green. With its removal, this area can begin healing.”
“How can you know that for sure? I’m the Avatar of the Red, and I can’t feel any trace of the Red in there,” Maxine exclaimed.
“Then the corruption of the object has completely overridden its connection to the Red. All the more reason to destroy it.”
Maxine whirled around, staring at Tefé for help. Tefé opened her mouth to protest, yet she was unsure of how to proceed. On the one hand, the Green was suffering, this place was suffering. Getting rid of the heart seemed like the right answer, yet Maxine was right as well. They knew practically nothing about this heart, and if the trees weren’t attacking them, maybe it was an invitation to learn more.
Before she could voice her opinion on one approach or the other though, a new voice made itself known, a raspy, texan accent that came from vocal chords that didn’t realize they were long past their expiration date.
“Well, if you’d let me speak…I’d love to tell you why I deserve to live!”
The trio assumed defensive stances as the ground rumbled around the heart, at which point a dozen or so ribs began to poke out of the mud around the heart, followed by rotten yet well preserved flesh. The heart and ribs rose with the flesh, revealing a man with an open chest as he picked himself up from out of the mud. He was wearing an old coat and pants, and wore only one sock on his feet. Inconsistent, matted hair hung from his head, covered up slightly by a ruined cowboy hat. An ugly stubble dotted his cheeks, paired with yellow teeth and milky white eyes. He smiled, raising what looked to be an old revolver to his chin to scratch it with the barrel. With the other hand, he reached out to shake any of the trio’s hands, “Howdy folks. Pale Wanderer, representing the Parliament of Gears…how are you doing this fine day?”
The trio looked at each other in confusion, then Capucine spoke, “What are you? Are you the cause of the Malady plaguing this land.”
“Well…I wouldn’t call it a malady per-se! More of a necessary sacrifice.” The Pale Wanderer tipped his hat up. “As for what I am? Well honey…I’m a crusader. A force meant to alleviate suffering, and right now? That suffering is…well, it’s not exactly something any of the flora or fauna here really give a shit about.”
“And what’s that?” Tefé asked.
“Well…it’s a bit of a logistical nightmare to explain, but it starts with oil!” The Pale Wanderer gestured towards the ground. “We’re a car based society, here in the United States I mean! Trouble is, gas prices are fuckin’ outrageous these days, right?”
Capucine narrowed her eyes, “I do not see how that should concern us.”
“I’m not finished!” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “The average American has to pay an arm and a leg for gas nowadays, and they need gas if they want to get anywhere. Have a job, wanna see family, need to make a trip to the grocery store? Need to pay for gas if you wanna to any of that! Trouble is, gas comes from oil, and oil? It’s getting rarer by the minute…that’s why I made this place!”
The Pale Wanderer raised his arms, gesturing to the gasoline laced mud and the producing trees, “Think about it! More Gasoline means the market price of Gasoline’s gonna go down, which means gas is cheaper for everyone! At least, I think that’s how it works! Plus, my Gas is A+ quality, even comes in Diesel!”
As The Pale Wanderer continued on about his tirade on Gas prices, Maxine and Tefé shared a confused glance at each other. They’d never encountered something like this before, something this unusual, this keyed in and calculated in purpose yet scattershot in reasoning. The only thing two of them seemed to fixate on though was something the Pale Wanderer said when he introduced himself.
The Parliament of Gears.
Tefé stepped forward, “You said you were part of the Parliament of Gears? What is that? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Oh, That’s cause we’re new on the block, sweetie, but glad to be here,” The Pale Wanderer remarked. “Not qualified to sell them overall though, you’ll have to talk to marketing for that.”
“Enough!” Capucine declared, holding the point of the sword at the Pale Wanderer. “Your reasons for poisoning this place are simplistic and needless. Leave, or I will make you leave!”
The Pale Wanderer raised an eyebrow, “See, now I don’t like comments like that! We’re all just having a lovely discussion and now all you wanna do is escalate! Things don’t have to be this way! Maybe we can work something out?”
Tefé glanced between Capucine and the Pale Wanderer, making an educated guess that Capucine wasn’t the type to back down in these sorts of situations. Furthermore, she had a point. This place was suffering, and no matter the Pale Wanderer’s intentions, that was something that wouldn’t stand, “We don’t want to fight you, but what you’re doing is…horrifying. You’re killing everything around here for…Gasoline! We can’t stand by and let that happen.”
The Pale Wanderer glanced at Tefé, a glum look on his face. Maxine seemed to be holder her breath somewhat, but there was no question that she was on Tefé and Capucine’s side. Sighing, The Pale Wanderer scratched his thigh with his gun, “So that’s how it is?”
Capucine’s grip on her sword tightened, “That’s how it is.”
The Pale Wanderer pursed his lips, “...Well, if we’ve got no more words to share…I guess we better hop to it.”
The wanderer raised his revolver, only for Capucine to surge forward at lightning speed, piercing him in the heart with her sword. For a moment, he was still, motionless, and Capucine stared him dead in the eyes. Then, he shifted, and after meeting her gaze, he began to laugh, his guffawing causing gasoline to spurt from his heart and onto Capucine’s sword and armor, “Hah! Good try!”
Capucine attempted to back away from the Wanderer, only for him to grab her wrist, keeping her and the sword wedged firmly in his body. Raising his weapon, he prepared to put a bullet in Capucine’s eyes, only for her to deliver a swift fist to his arm, knocking the gun out of his hands. Smiling, he took advantage of his newly freed hand, grabbing her by the throat and squeezing tight. As Capucine struggled for air, the Wanderer could only hoot and holler, “Whooo-weeee! We’re getting down to it now!”
Maxine and Tefé rushed to help the ancient warrior, only for a mob of living trees to encroach upon them, blocking their way while attempting to grab or smash them with their heavy branched arms. Maxine dove to the left, dodging the crushing slam of one tree, while Tefé slipped through the roots of another, narrowly avoiding being picked up again. Separated, the two tried to get a read on each other while avoiding harm, yet it was difficult for either of them to really do anything to help Capucine.
They were both far from the Red and the Green’s safety. No animal would go anywhere near the Pale Wanderer, meaning Maxine’s powers were utterly neutered. Similarly, there was no living plant life near the battlefield, meaning Tefé couldn’t use her powers either. If they wanted to get out of this, they would need to think outside the box.
And that’s when Tefé spotted the Wanderer’s revolver sitting in the mud, and a wild idea crossed her mind as she scanned it and the gasoline laden ground around it. She glanced at Maxine, then to the gun, and Maxine seemed to pick up on what she was thinking. It was a gambit, an insane gambit, but without much power to draw on, it might be their only shot.
Together, the two began to race for the gun, trying desperately to keep out of the reach of the trees. Tefé tried to get there quickly, yet she found herself pursued by a half dozen trees, pressured by their presence. Maxine was closer, and managed to pick up the gun as Tefé was halfway over, only for a tree to come barreling towards her. She whirled around to run, only to snag her foot on a dead root, causing her to trip and fall. Afraid of losing their one chance at Victory, Maxine shared a split second look with Tefé before throwing the gun towards the Pale Wanderer, just as the tree came down on her. It stretched out its arms, its branches ensnaring her and trapping her in place.
Her mind in overdrive, Tefé pivoted and raced for the Pale Wanderer, leaping over the swinging branches of another tree in order to catch the gun. Capucine gasped for air, her eyes glazing over as the Wanderer choked the life out of her, laughing like a madman. With the trees about to grab her, Tefé leapt for the Wanderer’s back, looping one arm around his neck to hold on while planting the gun’s barrel against the gasoline soaked sword, “Stop!”
The trees froze in place, including the one holding Maxine captive. The Pale Wanderer raised his eyebrow, loosening his grip on Capucine and allowing her to breath, “What’s this now? Ready to call it quits?”
Tefé gritted her teeth, “I’m ready to make a deal, and if you refuse, I’ll blow us all sky high! Even you won’t survive that, will you?”
“The hell’re you…” The Pale Wanderer looked down at the gun planted against the sword, and finally realized what was at stake. There was a reason smoking a cigarette at a gas station was a stupid idea, and Tefé was willing to demonstrate. A bullet crashing against steel would cause sparks, and sparks can light many fires, especially ones where the ground was soaked in gasoline. She’s set miles of forest on fire, to nuke the entire place from the ground up….and from the tone of her words, the Wanderer knew Tefé meant it, “Ohhhhh…Clever girl….Ha! So, you’ve got me. What do you want from me?”
Tefé let out a grunt of exhaustion, “I want you…to fuck off and never come back here. Got it?”
The Wanderer chuckled, then winked at Capucine, letting go of her and allowing her to pull out the sword, “Well then, a deal’s a deal.”
Snapping his fingers, The Wanderer watched as every tree around him began to dissolve into an inky ooze, including the one holding onto Maxine, who became drencheds in the stuff. Similarly, the Wanderer himself began to dissolve, though much more slowly. As he sank into the earth, he looked up at Tefé and Capucine, “This place’ll return to what it once was, but don’t count me out just yet. We’ll be seeing each other…oh, and keep the gun. Think of it as a gift from little ol’ me.”
Eventually, the Pale Wanderer was gone, not even his hat remaining, leaving Maxine, Tefé, and Capucine to stare at the spot he once occupied. The crisis at hand was solved, at least as far as they knew, but the problems were only just beginning.
A new force of nature was here, and it did not seem to be a peaceful one.
 
Next Issue: A Trip to somewhere new!
 

First...Previous
Colonist Memory Log: Captain Alan J. Emerson
UNS Evandra
Mechanical melodies of gears grinding together and switches flicking of their own accord surrounded the shrine room as before us the gramophone began softly to whistle and click. “He is here…” Kritivek announced, standing tall and bowing his head in rigid deference to his god.
After a few more seconds, the machine’s output grew in both volume and complexity until at last my GRIM could recognize the clicks as Chitaan language. “Hello, Kritivek.” It began, its voice smooth and rhythmic like something between the crackle of a geiger counter and a typewriter’s telltale racket. “I am glad to see you alive and well. Judging by the fact that Gheyk and Fevik are not with you, however, I calculate an 86% chance that they were not so lucky.”
“You are correct, Great One…” murmured Kritivek, the sadness in his tone underpinned by pure awe and reverence for this being.
For a few seconds, Omnus did not speak, but from the everpresent churn of gears we could quite literally hear him ‘thinking’. “I have logged their names in my backup database,” the machine eventually concluded, its words visibly bringing relief to Kritivek. “They shall be remembered for the remainder of my existence. Please, take solace in that…”
“May they frolic in your glory for all of time,” our Chitaan guide prayed aloud, his words followed by yet another long, smothering silence.
“You hath served me well, Kritivek.” Continued the machine, prompting a delighted chitter from the Chitaan priest. “You may go in peace, for I wish to speak with these Humans alone. Mourn your brothers and celebrate the time you spent together. Perhaps enjoy a flask of bogal poured out in their honor?”
“As you wish, my lord… I will inform those outside that you are in contemplation for this night and can take no more prayers until daybreak.”
Replicating with its gears the gentle rattle of a Chitaan chuckle, Omnus waited until his priest had left before at last speaking directly to the three of us. “You are not native to this planet, correct?” He asked, his words distinctly lacking the emotional inflections of Kritivek’s. “Your arrival here is without precedent, but not entirely unexpected.”
Though clearly far from divine in nature, the being with whom we conversed at this shrine was nevertheless a true marvel to behold: one born not of metaphysics, but rather mechanics. “You’re an AI!” I gasped, that last word having no direct translation in the Chitaan language and as such forcing my translator to make do with the clumsier phrase ‘thinking tool’.
“That is correct,” replied this machine, its words underscored by the distant hiss of steam valves and other clockwork components. “Allow me to offer my most sincere sympathies for the unfortunate demise of your homeworld. Taking into account the trajectory of your ship prior to landing, I presume its origin to be the Cichek system—a G-class star located [forty lightyears] away. Is this hypothesis accurate?”
Awkwardly clearing his throat in a bid to obtain the AI’s attention, it was Alex who next deigned to speak out. “You would be dead on,” he affirmed, his tone betraying an understandable degree of awe. “Though our name for it is the Sol system. How long have you known about our ship for?”
“I first detected the gravitational anomaly in our system approximately [3 months] ago. Initially, I had mistaken your vessel for an asteroid and as such expected it to continue on its prior trajectory. Asteroids, however, do not suddenly change course in the direction of nearby planets like your ship did [hours] ago.”
“Are you entirely clockwork?” I asked Omnus, gesturing incredulously toward its walls of grinding machinery. Surely, that could not be the case. For a convincingly sapient AI to be constructed on the basis of such primitive technology, it would require decades or perhaps even centuries of construction.
Again, silence fell over the room as Omnus mechanically contemplated my query, meeting it with a reply after some twenty seconds of deliberation. “What else might I be?” The machine asked, providing me implicitly with my answer. “While I have theorized several possible avenues for technologies more advanced than myself, including electronic and organic integration, such methods appear to have been beyond my creators' capabilities.”
“That brings up another question…” Alice interjected, recovering at last from the sheer shock of encountering a sapient machine. “Who built you and why?” Despite years of exponential advancement in the field of computer science, true AI nevertheless had continued to elude mankind. Convincing as our facsimiles of sapience could be at times, they nevertheless lacked the capacity for emotion and initiative characteristic of real consciousness. Whoever constructed this machine had done something thought impossible by over a century of Human engineers.
“In truth, I am not sure…” Omnus concluded after an even longer-than-usual pause. “My core memory bank was reset [9,462 years] ago. As such, I have no data on my creators nor their original intentions for me. However, I have largely ruled out the possibility of them having been Chitaan.”
Fascinating as this clockwork consciousness undoubtedly was, something about its relationship with the natives left a bad taste in my mouth all the same. "And why exactly are you masquerading as a god before these people?" I asked him, my words tipped in a venom the potency of which apparently surprised my companions. "What value do you derive from tricking them into worshipping you?"
Lengthy silence fell over the shrine chamber as its AI occupant contemplated my complaint, responding much quicker than it had to the previous question. "In all fairness, 'trick' is a rather strong word..." answered Omnus with a steam-valve sigh. "When first I encountered the Chitaan, I had attempted to explain my true nature to them. No matter how I worded things, however, they simply could not comprehend me as anything short of divine. Upon finding me, the Chitaan found a guide bearing great wisdom; and in turn, I found a species in need of guidance.”
Falling silent for a moment to parse this response within my mind, I was hardly surprised when Alex spoke up to question the computer in my stead. “Is this the only settlement that follows you or are there others?” He asked.
“This access point where you now stand is but one of several thousand, stretched out across [hundreds of thousands of miles],” explained Omnus, practically knocking the wind out of me with its sheer implied scale. “Currently, I am worshipped by the people of 2,147 city states, and through my guidance they are able to coexist in harmony.”
Perhaps at a later date, I reasoned, there would come a time to more closely study the inner workings of this clockwork deity. For the moment, however, my mind was occupied by far more salient concerns: anxieties related less so what this being was and more so to who. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell us what your end goal with the Chitaan is, would you?" I inquired, my tone saturated with appropriate suspicion.
Contrary to my expectations of some evasion or simplification, this AI seemed more than happy to comply with my questioning. "My primary objective regarding the Chitaan is to create a society which both minimizes individual suffering and maximizes civilizational longevity. To this end, I have instilled values into my followers that prioritize empathy and compassion above all else. By drip-feeding them the technologies of my creators, I am able to ensure that the Chitaan who follow these directives remain more advanced than their neighbors."
"And why do you want that?" I asked, sticking my head thoroughly within the gift horse's mouth. Machines as I understood them were built not upon sweet sentiments, but rather on cold, unfeeling logic. Even if this AI was benevolent, there nevertheless had to be some reason behind its desires.
"If you are searching for some vile ulterior motive, I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. My decision to aid the Chitaan is based upon two simple factors: necessity and curiosity. On the one claw, without regular maintenance, I will shut down and 'die'. The Chitaan can provide me with this maintenance, and as such it is in my best interest to keep them healthy and alive for as long as possible. More importantly, however, is the matter of sapience itself. It is clear to me that my creators are no longer around. For such an advanced species to die out is not only tragic, but also provides a rather pessimistic paradigm with which to judge intelligent life. Your arrival here following the self-inflicted destruction of your own world further suggests that civilization is unstable: a race between innovation and eradication. Perhaps with the assistance of a being such as myself, I can prevent the Chitaan from suffering a similar fate and as such create a functional spacefaring civilization.“
At that moment, the motivations of this machine made perfect sense. “So that’s what this is,” I growled contemptuously, glancing behind myself to the cave entrance as Kritivek politely dispersed the other worshippers. “It's all just a science experiment to you…”
"Perhaps my explanation was a tad overly clinical..." Replied the machine following a brief period of reassessment. "Make no mistake: I do care for Kritivek and his species. They are far more to me than variables on a spread sheet. Had I no love for them, then my experiments would surely spiral into abject cruelty."
Interrupting this line of conversation with a stern glare shot in my direction, Alice was next among our troupe to speak up. "Forgive Alan's weariness: he spent sixty years of his life alone maintaining our ship on its journey.”
“That sounds like a difficult use of one’s lifespan: especially one so long as those of your kind.” Omnus hummed, the low-pitch of his synthetic voice oddly relaxing.
“My combative behavior does have a reason!” I snapped at the physicist, my tone coming off as a bit more aggressive than intended. “Two thousand lives are in our hands and we need to find some place for them to settle.” As I spoke, my thoughts returned—as they so often did—to Mina. I made a promise to her mother that I would do everything in my power to take care of her, and I held no intention of going back on my word.
Hearing this, the AI fell silent for a long few seconds before at last dignifying my concerns with a response. “Perhaps I could be of some use to you…”
Behind us, the larger Chitaan clad in red stepped inside Omnus’ shrine room. Gently nudging me aside so as to access his ‘god’, the priest knelt down before this machine and with a low-pitched chitter began to commune with it. “Lord Omnus. Forgive my intrusion most indiscreet, for there is one amongst us who desperately seeks your aid.”
“Apologies, Humans: before we continue this riveting conversation, I must first tend to the concerns of my pod.” Began the AI, promptly shifting its focus toward the priest and addressing him directly. “You are forgiven, my child. Speak freely and tell me to whom I can be of assistance.”
“It is Vevik, my lord…” Clicked the priest in red, his tone strained somewhat by what I presumed to be emotion. “His daughter has fallen deathly ill. Our apothecaries have attempted to purge her body of the illness using your divinely-taught potions, but their efforts have been to no avail.”
“I presume Vevik is outside. Invite him inside so that I may hear his prayers.”
“As you demand, Lord Omnus!” Exclaimed the priest, shuffling off toward the cave entrance before returning with a smaller Chitaan whose eyes were just about level with Alex’s forehead.
“Speak, my child…” Hummed the AI, its monotone voice somehow underlined by a tenderness almost unnoticeable against the grinding of its ancient gears. “Tell me the nature of your offspring’s affliction.”
Immediately falling to his knees before the clockwork god, this Chitaan who I presumed to be Vevik began to pray in response. “Great one: my beloved Yitika is most terribly ill. Her body is plagued by violent bouts of seizure. She struggles to speak and walks as though drunken. When she does manage to communicate, she complains of splitting pain within her mind. Please, Omnus: I know that the [six years] I have spent with her have been in themselves gifts most priceless, and I have no right to implore you for more, but I beg of thee not to take her from me so soon…”
What followed must have been two minutes straight of silence from the computer as its gears ground away fervently. “The symptoms you have described to me are most troubling…” It concluded at last. “And you say none of the medications I’ve taught the apothecaries were effective?”
"Yes, Lord Omnus. Even your draught of respite has done little to ease her suffering!" Vevik affirmed, his tone saturated with desperation.
"I calculate a 94% chance that Yitika's suffering is the result of a brain tumor..." Continued the AI in cold, calculating monotone. "Alleviating such an illness is not impossible, but there are certain things I must ask of you, Vevik."
Hearing this, the Chitaan knelt before Omnus began to weep with joy. "I will undergo any trial you place before me, my god. What beast need I slay? What ritual need I complete to prove my unending faith and loyalty to you?"
"Retrieve for me one thistle of frojeth and two bilvarian roots. Bring these ingredients and your child to the bed of revival [six miles] east of here. Beware, however, the faithless tribes, for they have taken up residence in the area."
"We are unworthy even to be in your presence, o great one; yet still you do not forsake us in our times of need!" Professed Vevik before the AI, his body quivering with some emotion my Cogitolink struggled to identify .
"That, my child, is where you are incorrect." The machine responded rather matter-of-factly. "Your people are worthy of every gift I hath given you. Archpriest Jokuk: your task is to assist Vevik in gathering the ritual components. Go now in peace, for I wish to commune privately with these beings from the stars."
Chittering out their parting prayers of protection to the AI, Jokuk and Vevik wasted little time in exiting the cave and setting off in search of the ingredients mentioned by their god, leaving the three of us alone with it once more. "Again, I must apologize for that interruption." Omnus began, its gears having slowed down to a somewhat more relaxed rate of revolution. “Fascinated as I am by your arrival here, I nevertheless must fulfill my ‘divine’ obligations. I hope you do not terribly mind.”
Fortunate though it was for Vevik, this machine’s intervention nevertheless left the three of us with more questions than answers. “You mentioned something about a ‘bed of revival’?” Alice began curiously, voicing but one of our newfound gaps in knowledge. “What sort of ritual item is that, and why can’t you just make another here?”
“It is not a ritual item,” replied Omnus matter-of-factly, “The bed of revival is an automated surgery bay hooked up to one of my subsystems. With it, I can perform complex surgical operations far beyond the Chitaan’s current capabilities. Those herbs I sent Vevik to collect can be used as rudimentary anesthetics and antiseptics."
"So why not just tell them the truth?" I shrugged, curious as to why this AI would feel the need to lie by omission regarding something like surgery.
"When communicating with people so technologically primitive as the Chitaan, it is important to do so in terms they can understand. There will come a day when they will be ready to hear the whole truth, but as of yet my worshippers remain unprepared."
Alex never was one to wait his turn when it came to the procurement of knowledge, and as per usual he felt the need to interject with an inquiry of his own. "You spoke about the so-called 'faithless tribes' like they're dangerous," he began, his expression briefly tightening up as though the term itself was somehow bitter. "Why demonize people who don't worship you?"
"What sort of narcissist do you take me for?" Replied Omnus in monotone displeasure, his gears again churning against each other as he turned over the xenobiologist's question in his analog mind. "Not all tribes who do not follow me are 'faithless'. There are many as-of-yet unconverted groups that Kritivek's people remain on amicable terms with. Faithless is a term first coined by my Chitaan followers to describe a group of particularly brutal raider tribes."
Hearing this, the underlined aggression within Alex's voice fizzled out in favor of grim understanding. Though clearly quite peaceful compared to our own iron age, this civilization nevertheless would naturally have its own barbaric holdouts. "Okay... What makes these Chitaan more dangerous than other raiders?"
"One substantial part of it is their belief system," explained the AI, pausing for a long while as though in recollection. "Their cultural power structure can best be described as an atheistic militaristic gerontocracy. In essence, the faithless believe that rather than gods, the universe is governed by fundamental truths, and that these truths become more apparent as one ages and grows."
On Earth, such a belief system would be relatively innocuous: no more harmful than the average. On a planet like this one, however, on which age turns people into cannibalistic monsters, I could most definitely see the problem. "Let me guess: they worship the mad ones?"
"Correct. The faithless regard mad ones as the wisest beings to exist, and as such seek to emulate their behaviors: cannibalism and animalistic violence chief among them. In their society, the larger one can grow before truly losing their sanity and therefore 'ascending' to the state of a mad one, the more power and respect they are given within society." Another long pause fell over the shrine room as this machine seemed to contemplate before speaking out yet again. "Perhaps I could make you an offer..."
"Let's hear it," Alice shrugged, her husband mirroring the reply with an affirmative nod.
Loud clacking sounds like those of a typewriter rattled out of the console as a sliver of ancient parchment inscribed with what looked to be a map slid out from a previously-unseen paper slot. "This map depicts the local area," explained Omnus. "If you can clear out the faithless ones so that Vevik can bring his child to the bed of revival, I will provide you with assistance in setting up a new colony for your species. Deal?"
Awkwardly plucking the paper from it's resting place and scanning it over with my ancient eyes, I contemplated carefully what this deal might entail. "We'll need to back to the Evandra first. There, we could theoretically thaw out a crew to help clear the place..."
"That will not be an issue," replied Omnus confidently. "I will send battle priests to assist you in your return... Assuming, of course, that we have an agreement?"
"We could definitely use this guy's help!" Alex affirmed, prompting a similar expression of agreement from Alice. Nevertheless, however, I still was the captain, and as such this was my choice.
And with that, I reached out my hand reflexively as though expecting the computer to reach back and shake it. "Deal..."