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Chapter 169 – A moment of truth. A moment to lie.
Shida exhaled slowly as she flew in a parallel line along the massive, slowly rotating hull of the Sun. The near true-black surface of the enormous ship loomed ominously next to her, tricking her brain into the impression that it was somehow trying to pull her tiny little hunter into it like a black hole or some shadowy portal. Though obviously, that was just a literal trick of the light.
Activating her frontal thrusters yet again to slow the momentum of her flight, she just barely noticed the movement on the hull next to her as something adjusted to the now slowing movement of her cargo. A moment later, a harpoon much like the one she herself had fired into the lump of molten material that had solidified around the still dutifully pinging black box shot against the precious debris, latching onto it and connecting it to the larger ship.
With the press of a button, Shida's own harpoon then automatically shot off its tip before her hunter reeled in the connecting cable as well as the remaining rod. Almost as soon as she was detached, the Sun's harpoon already began to reel the black box lump in as well.
It admittedly took a bit of time and finesse, but this process was still much easier than trying to somehow land with the barely controllable lump of hull-slag still attached to her ship.
Rubbing a hand over one of her hears, Shida released a mild huff before then firing her engines up again as she adjusted her course to fly around the ship and find her way into the dock.
Once the slightly precarious maneuver of flying through the relatively narrow, rotating tunnel that was her entrance was overcome, the feline turned her hunter onto 'life support' mode as she sat back, since she would have to wait for the atmosphere in the dock to be reinstated before she could even think about getting out.
Suddenly, a comm came in for her, making her ears twitch as she listened up.
“Please move your ship to the corner of the dock and stand by, Lieutenant-Commander,” the voice from her radio informed her briefly. “The dock will be needed for the landing of an urgent shuttle. Atmosphere cannot be reinstated before it has landed.”
Blinking slightly, Shida stared at her console for a moment. Shuttle? Why was there shuttle flying around in a situation like this?
Luckily, it didn't even take a full second before her brain fired up again and she quickly reached for the button to activate her own microphone.
“Copy that,” she said before quickly starting her ship up again, just enough so that she could slowly roll it into the dock's corner. Once there, she activated her microphone again. “Standing by,” she announced before leaning back once again.
She released a long exhale as she stared at the wall that was now right in front of her. And as she sat there with nothing to do but to think while she was surrounded by an airless room, she slowly began to feel that something was wrong.
Not with the situation, no. Even if she still wondered why the hell a shuttle was dicking around out there just after an active combat situation, that wasn't what was irking her. Though, admittedly, she also didn't really know what was. Was it something about herself? Not really. She felt fine.
Though, after a few more moments of being alone with her thoughts, it slowly began to hit her. Why did she feel so fine?
Not that she had expected to be totally broken up by a combat situation, even if it was sudden. She was trained for that much, she sure would hope that she wouldn't let it get to her too much. However, while not being too stressed out was one thing...why wasn't she angrier?
The last few times she had so much as heard about an attack, she had been absolutely livid. Blood-boilingly so. And that didn't even come close to how she had felt when she saw the victims of the attack on the detention center...
But now? She was calm. They had just been attacked out of nowhere. She had been dragged into a sudden battle. So many people, both foe and friend, had died today. And she was sad about that. She felt the remorse about the people who had been killed here. She even felt the aftereffects of pulling the trigger herself down in her stomach. But apart from that? Nothing.
What was different now? Where was that fire? And more importantly...was it good or bad that it was so suddenly gone?
Prooobably something to bring up with Dr. Nasution once she got an opportunity to attend her next session, which would probably be quite soon given current circumstances. It had been a while with everything that was going on, but she figured there was at least a good chance that their 'pleasure cruise' would not be continuing after everything that had occurred.
It seemed that the coreworlds were even more hostile ground than they had imagined.
About a quarter of an hour later, the announced shuttle had finally settled down and all hatches were sealed shut while air was slowly funneled back into the room. It took maybe a minute or two more before a specialized sensor in her ship informed her with a glowing light on her console that the surroundings were once again breathable, meaning she could safely open her hatch.
Pressing the corresponding button, the hatch of her ship sprang open, releasing a slight hiss as the seal was broken and air-exchange with the outside took place for the first time since she had closed it.
Once it was open, Shida could already hear some commotion as a large group of people came immediately flooding into the room as soon as it was safe to do so, and once she had climbed out onto the wing of her ship, she could see that they had come bearing large bags as they hurried towards the shuttle, which was currently in the process of lowering its ramp.
Resisting her urge to stand and stare to see what was going on, Shida climbed off the wing in order to go and properly announce her return.
However, almost as soon as her feet made contact with the dock's floor, she suddenly felt how she was almost taken off her feet by another body crashing into hers, startling her so much that her claws were already coming out as her arms raised to meet her sudden tackler – though a combination of a familiar scent and breathing luckily soothed her nerves long before her aware mind could catch up to who had run into her there.
Instead of sinking their claws in, her hand laid flatly down on James' broad back as her arms wrapped around him to return his sudden hug. As she held him, she could feel that he was quite unsteady on his feet, and she subtly supported him to not loose his footing as they embraced for a long moment.
A bit of a purr started up in her chest as she leaned her head against his. She didn't say anything, worrying that it may come off as mockery if she did, but she could feel that he had been worried about her. And although she obviously didn't like making him worry – especially since she knew how much that stung after having to worry about him way too often recently - she still couldn't deny that she always appreciated getting to feel just how much he cared about her so directly, and a warm feeling spread throughout her as her purr intensified.
Though admittedly, she could've done without the firm kiss he pressed onto her cheek after a moment. Still, she knew that it was an important expression of his care to him, and so she simply closed her eye on the kissed side and endured it for a moment before he finally pulled away.
Looking at his reddened face, she could read right off it that he wanted to say something like 'Don't ever do that again' or anything in that vein, but obviously he also knew that she was just doing her duty, and so he held his tongue.
His mouth opened a bit, presumably to say something else, however the chaotic and from this distance slightly incoherent shouting of the group that had rushed in earlier now meeting with the crew of the shuttle interrupted him, catching both of their attentions as they looked over.
As they did, Shida's eyes widened slightly once she realized what the chaotic scene she was looking at there really was. A stretcher carrying Admiral Krieger was wheeled down the shuttle's ramp, surrounded by medics and doctors working on her on all sides.
Her skin was a ghostly white, far more so than even her usual pale complexion, and fully on display as the remains of her uniform were under her in tattered, cut-open rags, leaving her almost entirely exposed except for her most private area and her right leg, which had been covered with a white sheet. Every other inch of her skin seemingly had to remain free as the medical personnel worked on it from all angles; sticking her with needles or attaching cables, tubes and electrodes to her as she was rolled along. Two blood bags were already dripping fresh life into her at that point, and by the look of things, a third one was soon to follow.
Still, the almost body-horror-esque sight of the doctors trying to preserve her life was by far not the most gruesome one the scene offered. That honor belonged to her uncovered left leg. Or at least...what was left of it...
Shida's ear twitched as her concentration on the scene was briefly interrupted by a soft voice speaking right next to her.
“Mama...” James mumbled aghast, causing Shida's eyes to widen slightly.
It was one of the few words from his native language that the feline actually knew. “Mom”. And hearing it out of James' mouth was an almost bizarre experience. James never called his mother mom or any similar term of endearment. In fact he made it a point not to.
Granted, in this case, it was unlikely that he had consciously made the choice to do it in this case, however the sheer fact that it would slip out of him like this spoke volumes of just how deeply the shock of seeing her in that state reached.
Not that Shida didn't understand, of course. Familial bonds or not, the Admiral was...well, of course they both knew that she wasn't untouchable by any measure. Far from it. She was just a person like anybody else in the end.
However, knowing that she could get hurt and actually seeing it were two very different things, apparently.
In the corner of her vision, she noticed how James suddenly began to move in the direction of the ongoing rescue, and she quickly jolted forwards to stop him, wrapping her arm around him firmly as she held him back from getting in the way of anything.
Luckily, apart from a brief push that only lasted for as long as it took him to realize that he had been stopped, he didn't resist her as she restrained him from approaching any further, and so the both of them just watched as the stretcher was rolled along and ultimately out of the dock.
“That was meant for me...” James mumbled, clearly thinking aloud as he kept staring at the door even after it had closed again.
Immediately, Shida pulled him in firmer, side-hugging him as she pressed her body up to his.
“She wouldn't have traded places with you if you tried to force her,” she assured him while pushing her face against his shoulder. She knew that the relationship of those two was rocky to say the least, however she still knew that much to be true. Whether she was the motherly type or not, if anything, the Admiral was just as stubborn as James was, especially when it came to duty.
James stood frozen for a bit, seemingly not exactly knowing what to do with his feelings in his current state. Shida could only imagine how much ethanol was still flowing through his veins at that time, mixed with a cocktail of all kinds of different hormones and endorphins. With all of this added back-and-forth stress, she couldn't blame him for struggling to hold onto a single thought at that time.
“Oh, James!” a new voice suddenly joined the fray, whipping both of their attentions around yet again as even more bodies emerged from the shuttle, having presumably stood back to make room while the rescue efforts were ongoing.
But now that the coast was clear, so to speak, two familiar large forms came lumbering down the shuttle's ramp.
Moar and Congloarch looked...rattled...to say the least. With Moar, it was understandable. She probably didn't have all too much experience of standing right next to a dying person as every thinkable thing was done to them to keep them alive, so Shida wouldn't have thought twice about it had it just been her.
However, the tonamstrosite was a...different story. His four eyes didn't scan the room or focus on different things at all. All four of them were pointed straight ahead with only very loose seeming focus on the people he was approaching as he walked.
His mouth hung slightly open, and he seemed to push his tongue out just a little bit while the fleshy muscle twitched up in place before settling down again, over and over, making it appear almost as if he was subtly retching.
James' stormy mind seemed to immediately latch onto the the possibility to focus on anything and went right along with a wave of his usual compassion as his eyes fell onto the to giants. This time, Shida didn't hold him back as he hurried in their direction.
“What in chaos' name happened?” he asked once he was just a few steps away from them, though even in his now focused and concerned state you could clearly tell from his gait that he wasn't quite all there.
“Oh James...” Moar repeated, struggling to speak as she shuddered in place where she stood, both of her clawed hands firmly hooked into her long fur as if clinging on for dear life.
Releasing a deep groan, Congloarch shook himself so heavily that a grinding sound came from some of the plates along his body.
“There was an attack,” the large reptile then said the quite obvious before shaking again. “There was...an invasion-” he kept describing before pausing abruptly, turning his head away as his tongue pushed itself up again, causing him to clearly struggle to suppress whatever urge overcame him at that moment.
Shida's ears and tail sank deeply as she watched those two. She could only imagine what could've occurred to have even Congloarch so broken up. And she could see it on James' face that his heart sank just as much, even if less outwards signs clearly showed it.
Slowly, Shida began to walk up to Moar at an even pace. As she did so, she gently nudged James in the direction of the other giant while passing him, knowing that he had the better relationship to the tonamstrosite out of the two of them.
Taking the hint without issue, James walked up to the enormous reptile and placed his hand on the highest part of the man he could reach while Shida leaned up against Moar's plushy leg comfortingly.
“It's alright,” James then said softly, patting his hand against Congloarch's armored skin gently while also leaning his face against the side of the giant's body. “You don't have to talk about it right now. You can take some time.”
The reactions of the two giants were very different, but at the same time equally appreciative of the soothing contact.
Moar leaned down as one of her hands unclenched from her fur to reach for Shida, reciprocating the gentle touch through an innate social drive. Seemingly on instinct, her hand went right for Shida's hair, seemingly seeking the contact with fur since that is what another rafulite would provide, and so the old lady simply petted through Shida's hair in gentle strokes while the feline pressed up against her.
Meanwhile, Congloarch seemed to simply relax in place as James leaned against him, making no effort to initiate any form of contact himself as his eyes slowly closed.
It even went so far that it seemed like he needed to put in a conscious effort to not lay down right then and there, which would've probably been inappropriate in the middle of a dock. In fact, all of this was probably inappropriate for this place, but sometimes what had to be done had to be done.
Still, with James being only somewhat in-commission right now, Shida eventually felt it to be her duty to coax everyone out of the dock once she felt that things had calmed down enough to move so they could continue this at a calmer, more private location, where the two giants could truly focus on processing everything that had happened.
–
A gentle humming filled the air, stirring her awake as light uncomfortably shone through her twitching lids while she struggled back and forth between a conscious and unconscious state.
Though once she finally pushed herself far enough into awareness to gain control over the motion and slowly forced her eyes fully open, even if she still had to squint heavily against the light from above, she glanced around through her blurry vision, instinctively searching for the source of the increasingly familiar sound of the hummed song.
She recognized the melody. It was the 'Ode to strange suns', a very old and very famous song that first emerged back in the early days of Earth's interstellar travel, when traversing light-years to reach another star-system was still a daunting endeavor. It was often sung by those in the primitive ships, often called 'tubes', to give them hope during their bleak journey. A melancholic song about giving up your life just to see what's out there – and one day push your people so far beyond what they had once been.
So far, they hadn't quite reached the lofty goal that the song set for humanity, since it spoke of mapping every star and finding eternity too short and infinity too small for their ambitions. According to the song, the day would come when 'no more strange suns rise'. What an idea that was...
Still, even more so than the song itself, she recognized the soft voice that was humming it, and her heart lifted at the implications of hearing it. She felt soft sheets rustling underneath her head as she slowly turned her face towards the sound, and the corners of her lips slowly lifted into a smile as her eyes, which were gently tearing from the harsh light biting into them so suddenly, fell onto the scene before her.
Nia sat slightly leaned against the headrest of her bed with her eyes closed, the room's white light gently playing over her dark yet soft features as she turned her face in the Admiral's direction while softly swaying her head to the rhythm of her humming, not moving it more than a centimeter with each tilt so her gentle dance wouldn't interfere too much with the work of James' hands. He sat behind her with both hands behind her back, gently holding her hair as he weaved it into long braids with practiced motions. There was a clear 'weakness' to Nia's movements, and the way she sat strongly indicated that she likely lacked the strength to completely hold herself up on her own.
And yet despite that, her humming was cheerful and content as she had her hair braided by her brother. She seemed...at peace.
After simply observing the scene for a few long moments, feeling like she could get lost in the sight if she wasn't careful, Admiral Krieger then tried to push herself up a bit, however the attempt was short-lived as a searing pain shot through her right shoulder as soon as she put any pressure onto that side of her body, forcing her to flop back down almost immediately. And as soon as she did, the pain quickly dissipated into a mellow numbness that was all too familiar to her.
She was on some strong painkillers, she could tell. Therefore, if it still hurt like that when she attempted to move, moving was probably a bad idea. Not that she couldn't have borne the pain if it was necessary, however the sight of her children like that told her that it very clearly wasn't. Whatever other challenges and battles the future may have had in store for them, this was a moment of peace, and she should use it for her recovery while she still could.
Meanwhile, her movement and brief hiss of pain had naturally not gone unnoticed. Once her eyes were no longer closed from the brief jolt of pain, she saw that Nia's eyes had now also opened. Her humming had stopped as the sweet girl's face lit up upon noticing that the Admiral was truly awake and had not just shifted around in her sleep.
“James!” she exclaimed, trying to move so suddenly that she accidentally pulled on her own hair that was still firmly in her brother's grasp, before he could react and adjust to her movements. Uncaring about the brief discomfort that surely caused, Nia excitedly lifted her hand to point at the Admiral, however James already had a knowing look on his face.
“I saw,” he replied, clearly far less focused on the braiding process than his demeanor would indicate from the outside. He quickly finished up the in-process braid between his fingers and fixated it with a small, golden, tube-shaped clasp before letting go of Nia's hair, thus allowing her to freely move her head around again.
Nia then looked over at her while James slowly stood up and moved to the corner of the room.
“How are you feeling, Sophia?” Nia asked in a gentle tone that did nothing to hide her happiness, her eyes gleaming slightly in the light as tears began to well up within them.
The Admiral released a long exhale as she settled into the sheets, though her eyes never left Nia's face – apart from a very brief moment of them following James to see where he was going. Nia looked slightly messy with her hair half-braided and the light-blue gown she wore all crumpled up, however just like her earlier humming, that messiness had a certain peace to it that allowed the Admiral to relax.
“Just how I look, I suspect,” she replied, the smile on her face returning. “I'm glad to see you awake again.”
“Hey, that's my line!” Nia jokingly complained with a mild chuckle that audibly got very close to shifting into a soft sob at one point.
At this point, James had returned from the corner of the room, walking up to the side of Nia's bed opposite to the one he had been sitting at previously. And with him, he had brought a large wheelchair.
Briefly, he turned his head towards his mother, the look on his face rather unreadable. For a moment, his mouth twitched, and it seemed like he wanted to say something. However ultimately, he pulled his gaze away again before anything was said.
Without complaint, Nia allowed her brother to lift her out of the bed and into the wheelchair, before he slowly pushed her over to the side of the Admiral's bed.
Almost immediately once she was within reach, Nia's hand found hers, holding it gently while James was once again on the move, this time towards a bedside-drawer that stood in between both of their beds.
Opening it, he briefly rummaged through it before pulling out an arrangement of small items, with which he then sat down next to the Admiral as well.
Leaning down, he gently reached for her face in a gesture that could've been mistaken for tenderness, had his fingers not reached to pull her lids open a bit with gentle force right before he shone a bright light directly into her eyes. Despite the uncomfortable nature of the action, Admiral Krieger didn't resist it in any way, physically or otherwise.
After he had ensured her pupils worked properly, James then gently grabbed her by her chin and moved her face around so that she looked straight 'ahead', which in this case meant right up to the ceiling while he got up a bit to loom over her.
“Aaaaaah,” he then ordered while holding a clear, plastic tongue-suppressor close to her mouth.
Following the order without hesitation, the Admiral opened her mouth widely, though she forewent the actual saying of 'aaah' in the process. Soon enough, her tongue was uncomfortably pushed down by the plastic item while she could see some light leaking out of her mouth in the corner of her vision.
After a brief moment of inspection, the pressure was already relieved and she could close her mouth again as James moved away from her, checking some of the monitors of devices that were attached to his mother in various ways.
The Admiral couldn't help but gently chuckle at the professionalism he clearly very deliberately employed as he dealt with her waking up. It was a nice act, however, she was smart enough to know that, since he didn't call anyone in to do it, he likely had asked to conduct these precautionary examinations himself instead of calling a doctor in for it, likely promising to call in someone more professional than himself should he find anything actually worrying.
But, based on his reactions, it seemed like everything was in working order. At least the vitals she could see on the monitors herself certainly were. Not exactly 'healthy', of course, but also not directly concerning for someone who had just gone through the wringer like she had.
Or, well...she didn't quite know how 'just' it had been. She was admittedly a bit too groggy to fully remember the exact date and time during which the attack leaving her injured had taken place, which meant even the clock on the wall was of very little help with determining just how long she had been out for.
“Do you feel anything strange?” James asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Any pain? Nausea? Discomfort?”
Krieger shook her head.
“Nothing, apart from being high as a kite,” she replied before briefly glancing down at herself. Her body was almost completely covered by a white sheet, so she couldn't exactly see anything. However, she knew what was underneath. “Though I'm sure my leg would be in a lot of pain if I could actually feel it.”
In the corner of her vision, she both saw and felt Nia flinch as she was still holding her hand, her face darkening a little.
James' expression also seemed to turn more serious after her jokingly said words, betraying his usually not horrible pokerface.
Slowly, she released a long breath.
“It's gone, isn't it?” she suspected immediately. Not surprising after the state her leg had been in when she last saw it.
Nia's face just turned even more glum at that, however James sighed and nodded.
“Most of it, yes,” he replied honestly, knowing her well enough to cut any sort of bullshit. “Though you will be glad to hear that your usual 'precautions' worked without a hitch. Your body accepted the prosthesis and you should be able to walk again almost immediately.”
She smiled.
“I always told you, it pays to be prepared,” she said, lifting her unoccupied arm with a finger playfully raised in lecture. Though then, she moved her gaze over to Nia, reaching her already raised arm over to Nia's head and pulling her in a bit closer before gently caressing her cheek. “Come on, why the frown?” she asked, giving a gentle smile. “You heard what he said, I'll be good as new.”
A returning smile fought itself through Nia's tears at the caress, and she nodded meekly – before then suddenly throwing herself forwards, out of the wheelchair and onto the Admiral in a brazen embrace.
A sharp pain once again shot through the Admiral's shoulder as another body suddenly pressed down onto hers, however this time she did not care a single bit as she moved her arms around her daughter and gently petted along her back while Nia clearly did her absolute best to suppress the quiet sobs leaving her. Meanwhile James stood next to it all with a stoic expression, only his eyes betraying the obvious compassion he felt for his sister's happiness.
Once the embrace was enjoyed and a few soft words were exchanged, he aided Nia in getting back into the wheelchair wordlessly.
And the Admiral didn't need him to say anything. The mere fact that he had decided to be here told her more than enough – even if he would likely say that he was here to visit Nia when he would be asked about it.
A few moments later, the door to the room opened, with two new people entering in a visible hurry. Though, despite their haste, both Tuya and Shida froze when they fully processed the scene they had barged into, with neither of them seemingly knowing if they wanted to proceed or not.
Taking the decision off them, the Admiral lifted her hand and waved them closer.
“Come in,” she said invitingly, not at all opposed to their presence here. Not for nothing, she was more than happy with the partners that her children had found for themselves. She could hardly have wished for better ones.
Still seeming a bit hesitant, the First-Lieutenant and Lieutenant-Commander then continued their motion, even if much slower now.
James and Nia both had pretty unreadable expressions on their faces at this point as they watched their respective partners approach. They all exchanged a long gaze with each other, which clearly told her children something that she wasn't quite privy to yet.
James was finally the one to break the silence.
“What brilliant timing,” he sighed a bit as he turned around, quickly grabbing a remote from a nearby nightstand. With it, he turned up the volume of a running but up until now muted screen that the Admiral had only been tangentially aware of so far.
Though now that everyone's attention seemed to be pulled towards it, she didn't need to be a genius to realize that something important was being broadcast there. And so she got quiet and listened, her professional seriousness returning as he fought through her slightly hazy state to not miss a detail, especially so as she saw just who the cameras were pointed towards.
Leaving her enormous head to hang slightly, Apojinorana Audoxya Tua, High-Matriarch of the zodiatos and current Acting-Leader-Supreme of the G.C.S. had taken the stage behind what had to be a house-sized podium, even if it didn't appear like it on screen.
The Admiral suppressed any feelings she had towards that vile woman as she concentrated on listening to her words.
They had seemingly missed the beginning of the conference they were not tuning into, so hopefully they hadn't missed anything important.
“...firm the attack. One of the current Nahfmir-Durrehefren, previously known as Melvolhorron, used his command over several of our ships and the loyalty of crews that had been radicalized by the ongoing galactic tensions -both zodiatos and coluyvoree- to mount the attack. No outside influence on his actions from any third-party outside of the zodiatos territories has been indicated during the investigations. The black box that was discovered by the human forces and handed over to galactic investigations in full accordance to communal law and without any resistance brought some additional light to his motivations. Among the usual logs and data you would expect to find, it also contained a seemingly deliberately saved...letter of devotion to...none other than my own person. It seems that this...tragic event turned heinous crime was something that he saw as his best chance to advance his position to that of the true Durrehefren. He seemed to believe that my devotion and favor could be gained through a decisive strike against the humans, whom he believed I hated deeply – along with all other deathworlders, it appears. It also appears that he believed this hate would go far enough that I would approve of any methods to achieve this strike against them – even an attack on not only another coreworld, but one of our oldest and most loyal allies. It's-” she cut of briefly, releasing a distressed trumpeting sound before reaching her trunk up to run its ends over her many dark eyes. “It is, of course, hard for me. Not only to have such a crime committed ostensibly in my name, but also that this seems to be an image that I have imprinted onto my people. An image of hate and discord that has radicalized them to the point that they would stoop to such levels simply to see the 'opposition' suffer. And while it is no secret that the humans have been at odds with me, I would never approve of such a heinous attack, not only because...friends of mine...were lost in it, too. And I am not free of blame. I see now that I was so focused on sternly defending us from the accusations posed against us, that I entirely forgot to also show the compassion that is so necessary at a time like this. And I want to apologize for this. Deeply. Even as the attack was committed by a blinded individual, the zodiatos will take full responsibility for it. We are willing to pay any required reparations to each of the injured parties involved, and we deeply wish that our ties we have to those harmed can be mended, be they old or new, strong or tattered. We will gladly welcome any diplomatic outreach from the injured parties as well as all others who are concerned in hopes to not only aid in the recovery of our alliances, but also in the healing of our very own souls as we will take any effort we can to move away from the hate that has caused this tragedy. Our people will not become one of violence and terror, that I swear by all three of my names. And I hope that all others follow that example, so that this tragic event may become a part of our history that will never be repeated. Now more than ever, we need to remind ourselves of the values that this galaxy was built upon. I thank each and every one of you for your attention. Success to you. Prosperity for all. Unity in the community.”

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"Now hear this, now hear this.
"In less than an hour we will drop out of jump space. Chances of an enemy encounter are high. We are far from home, far from support and surrounded by untold trillions of Mar-gite in deep space. This is good, it means we don't have to worry about what we shoot at.
"When the time comes, I have only one standing order: fight. Fight with every gun, every missile, every ounce of will and scrap of code at your disposal. If central control is lost, fight under local control. If isolated from the computers, fight under manual control. If boarded, fight for every corridor, every stateroom, every access way you can reach. Fight for your lives and if you find your situation hopeless, fight to drag the enemy into the grave with you.
"The Confederacy expects that every sentient will do their duty. Our duty is to engage the enemy.
"And the enemy only exists to be destroyed.
"That is all." -- Nova Wars Era, Confederate Space Force, speaker and ship of origin uncertain.
"Tell me, Sister? How far does your sight reach? How many years? And then, in the future, when we have given up strength, and allies, and numbers, and the potential to fight back meaningfully, time and again, in pursuit of your safe path... and you find out it is a cul-de-sac, surrounded on all sides by death, with no possible escape, because you traded away every chance of victory because you were scared... who will you blame then?" - Dhruv Deshmuhk, Legion, apocryphal, referenced in "Telling a Hard Truth straight: a love language", Psychology Forever Journal
"We fight, not for today, not for this blood soaked agony wracked terrible day or the horrible horrible victory we may wrench from the gnashing jaws of defeat with blood soaked hands.
"We fight for tomorrow. For those yet unborn. For the future.
"You are the hope of the Telkan people. You are the living standard, the banner, that says to the universe: We will not submit! We will not kneel! We will stand! We will fight!
"With that, know that the Telkan people are with you, Marine. Always." - Director Brentili'ik, in a speech to Telkan Marine Officer's Training Course Class #10, Confederacy-Council Conflict Era.
The flashes were starting. Not big ones, not the Flashbang, but rather the tiny pinpricks of harsh light that sparkled for a second that vanished.
Deaths that had happened seconds or minutes prior.
Captain N'Skrek stared out the windows of the Show Bridge, staring at the inky black of space. The ship, the Gray Lady, was in between the Galactic Arms, in the vast nothingness that held no stellar systems.
Oh, it had at one time.
Forty thousand years prior the stars between the two galactic arm spurs had gone out, with the exception of a single string of pearls liking the two galactic arms.
Now, the Gray Lady, a ship in the Colossus Class of ancient Confederacy Space Force classification, was deep into the gulf between the galactic arms. Just over halfway.
He could see the rings that made up a long tube, the rings held into position by what looked like, at a distance of light seconds, to be thin straps. Coasting silently through the rings, bathed by light emitted by the interior of the rings, were massive Mar-gite Attack Clusters.
Sparkles were starting to show on the clusters as the Fruit Flies made their attack runs.
Larger flashes, still rendered tiny by stellar distances, started shining to brief life as the C+ cannon barrages and the missile swarms started slamming into the shining chrome ships.
Return fire was causing the battlescreens to cover the ship in a gauzy veil.
"No, no, it's all death and destruction," a Terran woman moaned from where she was being held in place by three identical human males.
Captain N'Skrek knew that it was, without any doubt, a physical assault upon the female.
But Captain N'Skrek was also smart enough to know not to get involved when two Immortals of myth and legend were having a family squabble.
After all, were not the Treana'ad a crafty and wise people who managed to obtain victgory over 25% of all military engagements with the Terrans?
"We're humans, there's always death and destruction," the male said, his voice slightly mocking. "Look past the probabilities. Look past the initial death and destruction. Look at the pathways it all leads to. Look at the path that we're taking."
The woman struggled but the man held her still.
"It's all death and destruction! Millions! Billions! Trillions of deaths!" she wailed.
"The enemy's death toll does not matter, little sister," the man, known to historians as the Biological Apostle Vat-Grown Luke, told the woman. "It's war. There will be death and destruction no matter what. What matters, all that matters, is that humanity and its allies survive."
"Please, Luke," the woman started sobbing.
"Tears don't work on me," Legion said, his voice full of dark and cruel mirth.
He leaned his head down.
"I am... Legion," he said softly.
Captain N'Skrek put the two Immortals out of his mind as he coordinated the battle, taking tactical and strategic advice from his staff.
The Fruit Flies wreaked havoc on the rings, shattering them, letting superstructure damage work with inertia and momentum to tear the systems apart. C+ cannon shots hitting deep inside the megastructures. The shots were no longer straight iron ferrite slugs with a hyperdrive engine for thrust and reactionless inertia engines for guidance and terminal maneuvers, they now had a burning core of spooky and strange-particle FOOF that weighed in the metric kilotons.
"Fruit Fly system back online, Captain."
"Fabricate and launch," N'Skrek ordered. "Compliments on their initial strikes."
The silver ships were destroyed already, the temporal range finders reporting data from when the shells would hit, telling N'Skrek's staff where the ships would be when the shots were fired.
"I can't... I can't..." the woman sobbed when N'Skrek ordered another flight of Fruit Flies into the fight.
"Parse the deaths, parse the destruction," Legion said. Another of him pointed at the icons for the just-launched Fruit Fly flights. "They are born, they live, and they die to kill the enemy. Over and over, it's what they do. Look past their deaths at their accomplishments."
The Terran woman was sobbing, but N'Skrek didn't care.
He had a job to do.
Task Force Lonely Peach had a job to do.
It had came as no surprise to him that Legion would know, without being told or having it confirmed, what the ultimate goal of Task Force Lonely Peach.
After all, Legion himself had carried out such orders under the command of the Imperium.
It no longer mattered what happened behind the Gray Lady, whether or not the Confederacy or anyone else survived. It no longer mattered if the Mar-gite were victorious or not.
The target were not the Mar-gite, present in the massive rolled up long cones.
The target were the ones pushing them forward, the ones enabling them to cross the great emptiness between the two galactic arms.
No, the target was now those enabling the Mar-gite.
Captain N'Skrek's orders were simple.
Find the enemy.
Determine their leadership.
Attack their military.
Attack their planets.
Sterilize their stellar systems.
Break the will of their civilians to support their government.
Leave them no ground to go to.
His briefing had been grim. The Confederacy was confident it could eventually stop the Mar-gite.
Eventually.
That meant dozens, hundreds, possibly thousands of planets denuded of life. Just as many stars nova-sparked to wipe out any trace of the Mar-gite.
Task Force Lonely Peach had been dispatched with a very Terran mission.
To return to the Mar-gite's masters what they had given the Confederacy.
Tenfold.
Captain N'Skrek watched as the Fruit Flies split up into squadrons, heading for any remaining hulks of the silver ships, the larger pieces of the megaconstruct, and to fire upon any of the Mega-Clusters or larger.
"Look past the death and destruction," Legion was saying. "They'll be sending in reinforcements, Sacajawea," his voice grew low and deadly. "Where will they come out."
"No, I won't," she whispered, her eyes wide and staring at the holotank. "I won't use my gift," she sobbed.
"You will. You ran away last time. You left us to rely on The Detainee to access the SUDS. You ran off and left us and humanity has been extinct for forty-thousand years," Legion was saying. "No more running, little sister. You will use your gifts, your powers, as you were meant to."
There was a perfectly timed coincidental moment of silence on the Show Bridge.
"Show us the way," Legion said.
Sacajawea suddenly jerked upright, the tendons on her neck standing out as her face raised to the ceiling. Her arm lifted, pointing out the window of the Show Bridge. Her other hand thrust itself into the hologram. Her eyes glowed purple, lightning crackled up and down her raven braids, and sparks danced between her teeth as they chattered.
A section of space was outlined as she gibbered for a moment, fragments of words, chops of sentences, followed by a string of numbers that the tactical computers recognized as coordinates.
"They come, more than before. They know not what they face, just that the enemy, that we, are attacking them, attacking their forces, and so now they will arrive here and now," she cried out. "They do not know, they come in a multitude that not even this powerful vessel can resist. They come by the hundreds, and will overwhelm even this vessel according to my Sight."
She collapsed and Legion caught her even as two versions of him turned to face the windows.
"Let me know when you want me to call for those reinforcements I promised you," one said.
"Or not," the other said.
N'Skrek just nodded, turning and giving orders to the crew to prepare for a microjump to put them 'above' and 'away' from the point that Sacajawea had pointed out.
"Can she have lied?" N'Skrek asked, the Legion standing beside him as four others carefully carried Sacajawea off.
Legion shook his head. "No. I'd know if she was lying," he said. "She was filled with a trance, a fugue state, so the more mortal part of her wasn't there to lie."
"Hold off on those reinforcements until we can see what we are facing," N'Skrek said. He snorted. "I doubt the young lady fully appreciates the firepower the Gray Lady can put out."
"She was never military. She had some training, but not much," Legion said. "Still, she had a vision, take that as you will."
N'Skrek nodded. He turned and ordered up more Fruit Flies to be generated.
He'd have them launch as soon as the microjump was finished.
"Digital Sentiences, Virtual Intelligences report jump transit safety interlocks are engaged," came the word.
N'Skrek motioned. "Engage."
The painting appeared, but before N'Skrek could pause to look at it he was thrown through it, the image shattering into hundreds of shards of reality. They dissolved almost instantly.
N'Skrek only took a half-step forward as the ship entered realspace.
"Load the planet-crackers. Target the larger Mar-gite constructs. Let's see how they like that, since we don't have to worry about gravitational wobble," N'Skrek ordered. "When our new guests arrive, I want them to be focusing on the constructs."
"Fruit Flies are launching. Steam driven launcher only," came the report.
N'Skrek nodded, staring at the screen.
"I remember waiting to ambush the Mantid's Third Fleet that was heading for Sol," Legion said conversationally, as if he wasn't speaking about one of the most famous wars of ancient history. "Hiding in the gravity shadow of a supermassive gas giant, inside the rings themselves."
He turned and gave N'Skrek a grin.
"An Armada of One," he said. "No chance for the Mantid to overwhelm my brain, to shut me down. Beyond a Hive Mind, a singular mind with a singular purpose."
"Sounds exciting," N'Skrek said, watching the windows and the holotank at the same time.
"Very boring. I played a lot of video games and card games," Legion said.
"Against yourself, even an MMO would be solitary and single player," N'Skrek said.
"Ruins PvP," Legion grinned.
"I'll bet," N'Skrek said.
"The Sacajawea of that time stood on the bridge with me. She had shown me where the Mantid would take the most casualties and where I would be killed quite often," Legion said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and N'Skrek hid a frown at the fact he didn't recognize Lucky Strike as a brand he was familiar with.
"Does it hurt when you get killed?" N'Skrek asked as Legion lit two cigarettes, handing one to N'Skrek.
"Very much so," Legion said. "Took me a few hundred thousand deaths to get used to it. Now, it hurts, it's terrifying, but not much more than clipping my fingernails," he sighed. "It's all right. I've always been, in many ways, less than human."
"You seem, to my albeit limited experience, to be very human to me," N'Skrek said. He took a drag off the cigarette and almost started coughing. It was harsh, raw tobacco with no additives and the filter tasting heavily of asbestos.
The Fruit Flies were scattering, going to full stealth, blinking their ready icons.
"Thank you," Legion said. He exhaled smoke. "Like the smoke?"
N'Skrek nodded.
"Gift from the Dee. Not the Detainee Lady Lord of Hell," he said, staring at the holotank. "But The Dee. The flesh and blood one," he gave a rueful chuckle. "Evil never dies."
"Harsh," N'Skrek said.
The missile pods flashed ready and went to stealth.
"Like her," Legion smiled. He suddenly looked a bit sad. "I miss her. Miss my siblings, the other Biological Apostles," he said. He sighed. "Sacajawea makes me miss them all that much more."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Sometimes I miss the Digital Omnimessiah too."
"Ship is at silent running," came the soft voice.
N'Skrek stood there, smoking, with Legion standing next to him.
Behind them Mar-gite clusters were breaking up from a combination of the FOOF and the split second artificial singularities that exploded into existence inside their mass.
Perhaps I can't completely eliminate them, but I can knock out a measurable percentage since I don't have to worry about how it might affect a stellar system's gravity balance, he thought at one point.
Time slowly ticked by.
"How is she?" N'Skrek asked at one point.
"Recovering. I'm sitting with her. I had a medic look at her. Physically, she's fine," Legion said.
"She should be on anti-depressants and undergoing therapy. For us it's ancient history, for her the Glassing and the loss of her people, even her death, are recent events. She only died a short time ago," N'Skrek said.
"And you should be dancing for a comely matron and I should be somewhere helping someone correct genetic sequencing damage," Legion said. "Shoulda, coulda, woulda, didn't."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Wait, can you see that?" Legion suddenly asked, pointing at the window.
"What?" N'Skrek said.
"The stars. A faint red-shift," Legion said.
N'Skrek looked toward the scanning officer, who frowned and looked at his instruments.
"It's faint. And large," Legion said. He motioned with his hands, using the smart-glass interface to highlight the area. "Right there."
"Nothing, sir," the scan-tech said.
N'Skrek tapped his lapel. "All personnel, prepare for enemy engagement," he said.
His voice carried over the intercom.
"Akka-Berry," Legion said softly. "They use a form of Akka-Berry."
The chrome ships suddenly appeared, wavering slightly like a heat mirage before solidifying up. They appeared pebbled and dull, like unbuffed and unpolished chrome.
"OPEN FIRE!" N'Skrek roared. He knew it was unnecessary, that the computers would give the fire order.
But it seemed to carry more weight as the PA repeated it.
0-0-0-0-0
Legion got into the elevator, waiting a moment after the doors closed to touch the panel. He overrode the alarms, then stopped the elevator.
The shadows warped and a light fog filled the elevator car.
It cleared to reveal a short Terran woman, with black hair pulled behind her head in a long braid, a severe face, plump, overripe figure, and gunmetal gray eyes.
"Well?" Legion asked.
"She's a child," the woman spat.
"I know that," Legion said. "Can you help her?"
"No, I mean, she's literally a child. Physically. She's never grown up," the woman snarled.
"Our aging was halted due to what we were going to do. The last thing we needed was a temporal sheer to kill half of us via old age," Legion said.
"I know that, you multiplying idiot," the woman snapped. "But she should have been allowed to grow into an adult first."
"She chose to stay young," Legion shrugged.
"And her brain has the neural pathways of a child," the woman snapped. She dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter of enameled steel. "The human brain doesn't fully mature until it's in its mid-20's. That's why we sent 18 year olds off to die in a rice patty or on some god forsaken beach. You need people who think charging the machinegun is a good idea, and teenage boys are well known for their excellent risk-reward judgement."
Legion just shrugged.
"But her, she's a child. Sixteen at the most, probably later fifteen," the woman said. She pulled out a cigarette, held it between her even white teeth, and lit it. "She has the mind of a teenage girl, a people known for their excellent decision making ability and capability to process trauma."
Legion just nodded.
The woman put away the cigarettes without offering one to Legion. He saw the emblem on the lighter.
"US ARMY ATOMIC COMMAND" in red block letters.
"You know how I feel about child soldiers," the woman said.
"It was The Glassing," Legion just shrugged.
"It's always something," the woman snarled. "Doesn't change how I feel."
"Can you help her?" Legion asked. "You're closer to her than I am."
"You mean, I'm as much a primitive barbarian as she is," the woman said, suddenly smiling without any humor. "I am what I am and she is what she is. Primitive savages from a time of hardship, resource shortages, and social upheaval."
"I wouldn't be so rude as to put it that way," Legion said. He smiled back. "But, yes."
The woman stared at the brushed steel wall of the elevator for a long moment. "I won't alter her SUDS record."
"Of course not," Legion said.
After a moment she nodded. "I can't help her, but I know some people who may."
Legion looked down at her. "Who?"
The woman smiled and exhaled smoke that filled the elevator car.
Her teeth and eyes were still visible.
"You'll know them when I bring them," she said. The eyes blinked. "Keep me in the loop for what's going on here. I have a feeling that events back home are going to have my attention pretty soon."
"I will," Legion told the eyes as the smile vanished.
The eyes closed.
Legion could feel it when she was gone. The smoke slowly cleared, leaving him alone in the elevator.
0-0-0-0-0
"What is taking this elevator so long to get here?" Jaskel asked 8814.
--not know computer says is moving-- the greenie replied.
"Aw man, Gunny's going to have my ass."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

For context me 12F and my cousin 13M always fight about weird things.
Like the other day I was looking thru my kpop albums and he ripped one of my posters. I obviously yelled at him and his mom told me to cut it out.
Well we got a new car Friday and now they got a new car too , me , the only person who has anger issues in the family, obviously blasted out and yelled at my aunt for taking everything me and my family have. For example I got box braids bc me and my family is partly black ( I'm mixed white and black ) and the next day my niece goes to school with box braids. And the other day I got a puppy ( his name is lucky and he's 17 weeks now ) and now they're thinking of adopting a dog even tho their kitten died after 5 weeks of having it. I totally dispise them and i wanna cut contact with them because this has been going on for years.
But now I don't know if I'm the asshole.
EDIT!:
They just called and told my mom , my mom is on my side but my dad is on both.

Edit: Welp, I was wrong, forget what I said. The IGN interview proved me wrong, so forget what I said.
Now, this is speculation on my part, and I know that most likely isn't the case, but it's sat on my head for a minute, and I want to try and make discourse.
Now, Messmer is stated to have fought the war right after Marika established the Golden Order (0:54 from the Shadow of the Erdtree story trailer from 21/5/24). He had an army, he had monsters on his side, he seems to have been well-established.
In the first bit of the Golden Order, Marika was married to Godfrey, the First Elden Lord, and that was after Marika established the Golden Order, and none of their children have red hair, so it most likely isn't Godfrey and Marika's kid.
It could be that Messmer is Marika and Radagon's kid, but that implies two things: A) that Radagon and Marika had a child out of wed-lock, without anyone knowing, and B) that Radagon had red hair by then. The problem is that Radagon was allegedly cursed by the Fire Giants to have red hair, if we're going by the flavor text of the Giant's Red Braids ("Radagon was said to have despised his own red locks. Perhaps that was a curse of their kind"), and that curse was presumably laid after Marika destroyed the majority of the Fire Giants, them cursing Radagon out of spite.
But if Messmer isn't Radagon's kid, and he isn't Godfrey's kid, then whose kid is it? I don't think Messmer is Marika's child; I think they're siblings.
I know it's unlikely, since then who would Messmer be referring to as "mother" in the trailers (but it could be that Marika's parents basically elected that Marika become the host for the Greater Will, leaving Messmer to be a general or war councilor of sorts, so he's just like "yo, why did you let Marika become a god, she doesn't really have good morals", or something like that), but it feels weird that by the time Marika becomes the host of the Greater Will, she just so happens to have a fully grown child that's already gotten armies and monsters under his control, and then there's the whole red hair thing. I mostly just wanted to start discourse, to see if others could provide more answers, since I doubt I'm right and I want more input.
Redaction: So, I understand that I’m wrong, that Messmer is Marika’s kid, coming from the mouth of the creator himself. But, I do have a question: who is Messmer’s father? This guy was around since the beginning of the Golden Order, and was old enough to be a warrior and leader for Marika. This could either imply A) Godfrey and Radagon aren’t the fathers, meaning it could be someone else, B) it’s Radagon, and Marika had a child out of wedlock/cheated on Godfrey with herself, or C) Messmer is Godfrey’s kid, and the red hair is just coincidental.

Varyn Lisaen
Race: Elf Drow Age: 50 Height: 189CM/ 6'2.41 Gender: Male Background: Noble Skin tone: a darkish grey Eye color: Golden iris with blackish green pupil. Class: Mutant-Blood hunter 9/Rogue 1/Twilight Cleric 1 Hair: Long backcombed hair with side-braids and a silver color. Alignment: Neutral/Good. Beard: No longer has beard since one of his wives demanded him to mantain his face smoth.
Personality: A brave elf (bravery that sometimes borders on stupidity), He is neither an extrovert nor an introvert but something in between, he is an alchemist and herbalist, something he enjoys and is always on the lookout for new ingredients and recipes for potions and mutagens. he was never a guy who liked solitude and sought a place he could belong, he found it among his friends and companions, people who were more family to him than those who were related to him by blood. Before he was a committed man he was a womanizer, almost like a bard, he was cured of that after getting married (even though he married two women at the same time). Currently his biggest addiction is tobacco, he has been fighting it but it is difficult for someone who has been smoking for at least two decades to give up this addiction. He became a cleric of Tytries (goddess of the stars and night of the homebrew world that my DM created) because it was thanks to a person of that faith that he was able to get rid of the lycanthropy with which he was cursed at a certain point in history. He still has some traumas from when he was still in the underdark. Some nightmares from the time when he was a prisoner of his own sister and her laboratory rat, in addition to insecurities about his abilities to lead his companions, he fears failing them and being unworthy of the trust that was placed in him. He constantly trains and does his best to always be as well prepared as possible for the dangers that will be faced in the future, but even with his insecurities, his friends and his two wives make him see the future with hope and optimism.
Apparence: He wears adamantine half armor, carries two long silver swords on his back and a magical whip sword at his waist. He wears an enchanted blue cape that allows him to dodge attacks more easily. He wears four rings on his right hand, one for each finger and on his left hand he carries a +2 shield (this shield was a gift from his adoptive sister "Arcana"). His boots are leather dyed midnight blue. On his neck he carries his sacred symbol, a greenish shooting star cutting the sky. their pants are usually leather or some fabric that sits tighter. And under the shirt underneath the armor he wears a white Victorian style shirt. He's quite handsome and atletic, weighting around 92Kilos.

Civilian Name : Dankai Kirishima
Hero Name : The Phase hero : Shifter
Gender : Male he/him
Appearance :

• 5 foot 9 inches
  
• Peach skin tone
  
• Red eyes
  
• Spiky black hair with dyed red tips shaped into a kinda mohawk style with a skin fade on the sides
  
• Muscular build slightly less then Sato
  
• Preferer wearing school uniform more on the loose side , shirt partially untucked with rolled up sleeves and loose tie
  
• Civilian outfit usually a grey /black muscle sleeveless muscle tee with a dog tag and black cargos and combat boots
  

Family : Ejiro Kirishima (Father)
Undecided (mother )
Bakugo ( Godfather)
Uncles- Kaminari , Tetsu tetsu
Quirk : Phase shift
This quirk allows the user to shift the physical state/phase of their own body into the four different states such as solid , liquid , gas and plasma by altering the arrangements and bonds of their own body as either in it's entirety of individual sections . The more solid the state of the body the more easy to maintain the composure of the body and less focus is required . Through training was able to learn various applications of the quirk such as midway stages/
Solid : Very much like Kirishimas hardening quirk provides great strength and durability however increases the density of the user so will be slightly slower while quirk is active in this state.
Plastic : While adjusting the body to be present between the liquid and gas state in the body , Dankai is able to allow his body to take on plastic properties kinda like the gum gum fruit allowing a more reliable form of mobility that requires less concentration than in both gas and liquid forms also by isolating the flexibility in certain parts of the arm and hardness in the fist allows for greater power.( acquired threw training by Deku and mobility taught by Sero )
Liquid : This mainly used for quick transport through water environments but also to fit through small cracks in difficult to manoeuvre terrain can also be used to infiltrate into peoples body and manipulate them however cannot remain too long because the immune system many start to fight back and cause damage.
Gas : The gas form is the hardest to maintain and greatest focus. This can be used to allow phasing powers as well as the ability to prevent an enemy from breathing. However as light and other gases may pass through the user this means that the user like mirio is blind and needs to hold their breath while using it( acquired through training with and taught by mirio )
Plasma : This allows the user to convert their body to pure energy allowing to release that energy in large blasts or concentrated laser. This takes the largest amount of focus but also the greatest release of power ( taught by Bakugo )
Backstory : Growing up around some of the greatest heroes of the generation , Dankai was naturally inspired to be a hero just like his parents but often felt pressure to be the exact same hero as his father and his hero crimson riot starting off with the name Scarlet Riot . Eventually through his dad's encouragement he eventually embraced all aspects of his quirk and chose his more accurate hero name shifter.
Personality :His father's emphasis on being manly was ingrained into Dankai up bringing so places heavy importance on that behaviour to an almost militaristic degree . He loves to fight people at their strongest even letting them get up and heal just so he can fight them at their strongest but never at the sake of the safety of civilians . In general tho he's a pretty fun loving guy who greatly enjoys cooking ( and eating ) with his godfather bakugo and video games . He also loves martial arts and all types of martial arts movies incorporating things he sees on tv and videos into his fighting style .

I have been sewing for YEARS, but am more self taught than anything... I also have a 6 needle embroidery machine, so I feel that I am pretty confident on sewing and embroidery machines, but I am struggling with these baskets!!
I made 3 the first weekend I attempted, and LOVED how they turned out! (Pics 1 & 2) I did break a few needles, but they looked awesome, and all fit together, and were a great gift for my step-mother.
Since then, I can barely stitch 5 zig-zag stitches before breaking a needle, or having it stop halfway through the rope, like it hit cement or something... I literally have broken > 10 needles and I haven't even gotten to the sides of the bowl yet. (Pic 3. Base is about 4" across right now.)
Details: I am using 1/4", 100% cotton braided rope (https://www.knotandrope.com/products/1-4-solid-braid-cotton?variant=40301142769764) , heavy duty needles, and 40 wt Rayon thread. (i looked for 50wt, but they didn't have any at Walmart, and this is the same I used for the first 3, so I don't see why it should be a problem, but I could be wrong).
I am using a Zig-zag stitch, and have tried everything from the default 3.5mm wide, to 6.5mm, thinking that could be part of the issue, but it keeps breaking at pretty much the same rate - constantly!
Since this roll of thread is wound horizontally, I even made sure the spool is upright, to make sure it isn't straining while coming off the spool. I have even slowed the speed down to a crawl, and it still jams up...
Does anyone have any advice? I REALLY loved the bowls I made the first time, and would LOVE to make more. I just don't understand what I could be doing so wrong!

Hey so fully kick me out if this post isn’t allowed because I am white, I just thought that the people on this sub would have the best advice.
Basically, I’m white with very curly, long, thick, and hard to manage hair. I would say it’s 3A but I’ve been told by others that it’s 3b a few times. Normally, I just deal with the tangles and frizz and everything else with a lot of time, patience, and energy detangling it when I wash it and styling it after, because obviously putting a little more effort in is infinitely better than cultural appropriation.
The thing is, I’m going to Japan next week and I know that it is NOT a country full of curly haired people. We are going to be doing a lot of hiking and walking (and sweating!) and we’re also traveling carry-on so there’s not a lot of options for products. As the trip draws nearer I’m getting more and more anxious about my hair.
It seems like the most practical option would be to get a protective hairstyle that I don’t have to constantly redo while I’m there, but I want to avoid cultural appropriation at all costs. Obviously I’m not thinking of getting cornrows or twists or box braids or anything like that, but I was wondering A) if there’s a way to get my hair professionally braided in a way that would cut down on maintenance but also work for me as a white person (like can you just get two Dutch braids professionally done? Does that last longer? Is that a thing?) and B) if it would be out of line for me to even step into a braiding salon to begin with (or if it depends on the style, like would getting 2–3 little braids up the front part of the side of my head to control frizz be straight up cultural appropriation?)
Honestly if anyone has ANY advice here that would be so greatly appreciated. I know I’m not the intended user of this sub but I figured that you guys have it a lot harder than me and might have some good advice. Even if something only lasts for half of the two-week trip that would be a huge weight off my shoulders. No pun intended.

15th: Randy Bailey 1.0 (Gabon - 8th)

my pookie randy bailey
u/SMC0629:
I LOVE Randy 1.0. Gabon is a great season, and there's so many characters that you could argue for the top spot. For me though, it'd be Randy. The dude's hilarious, and he's a villain that you love to hate. However, similar to Scot, there's moments that really make you sympathize with him and make you even want to root for him. He's super compelling, but even more entertaining, love Randy, so happy he made endgame.
~
u/DryBonesKing:
Randy is a bitter, bitter old man, and that’s also why he’s one of the best casting choices Survivor has ever managed to find. It almost feels like a waste that Survivor had been sitting on this guy for years each time he applied, but it was definitely for the best that they ended up bringing him onto Gabon. Randy slots in so well to pretty much any narrative role he needs to be in. Whether it’s the borderline “only sane man” role he fills in pre-swap Fang, to being another cog in the Onion Alliance of Kota (and a much needed personality increase that alliance needed), to just a pedantic asshole in the second swap Fang, to just being a bitter fuckhead in his boot episode. He’s just a very versatile character able to fit whatever role he is needed for, but in a way that still feels consistent to who he is – a fucking asshole who hates everyone.
He's crucial to liking Gabon, as he just embodies the spirit of the season in my opinion as this negative force that just has plenty of hate for everyone. Even his own friends aren’t safe from his wrath, like Matty when the two get into the pettiest argument of all time in the episode nine reward challenge. He has one of the most satisfying boot episodes of all time, as well as just one of the funniest. I’m also a huge fan of his jury voting confessional, where he just helps Gabon come together with seven simple words: “All three of you, kiss my ass!” He's hilarious and I do love his relationship with the majority of the cast, with his dynamic with Sugar, Susie, and Crystal deserving the most praise in my eyes, especially with how they outlast him.
But I do think even beyond just the humor and negativity, he’s just a miserable human being in a way that feels very painful. He’s just a very lonely person and it does manifest in how he interacts with others, and I think it gives a certain sadness to the way he treats others and also the way he is treated. It really helps give him a unique tone that I think Survivor really hasn’t been able to accomplish with villains; a simultaneous feeling where you root for his downfall but also root for him. Root for him to find happiness, even though if Randy read that sentence, he’d probably tell me “He doesn’t want my pity” before telling me to go kill myself. And like… I don’t know, I really fuck with that energy. Randy’s a 10/10 for me and it’s a testament to the rest of the people who made Endgame I don’t have him higher than this. I really hope Survivor is one day able to find someone with even half of Randy’s energy.
Overall Rank – 58/821
~
u/Zanthosus:
I’m not as big on Randy as others if I’m being completely honest. One of my biggest issues with Gabon as a season is that so much of the cast is just so overly-negative constantly to the point that it puts me in a bad mood watching it and becomes a slog to get through. Randy, to his credit, at least has a lot of fun in his negativity that others like Corinne, Kenny, Charlie, Paloma, and various others don’t. I still do appreciate his role on the season, and even enjoy his presence to an extent, but I’ve never been able to fully get on board with him being endgame, and especially not better than Sugar.
~
u/Tommyroxs45:
Randy is probably my spirit animal of Survivor. Just a grumpy old man who hates everything and everyone, but there is such an amazing story there and such an amazing character that makes him a top 10 character for me. Also the fact that he literally has one of the best episodes of all time, his boot episode which is just *mwah* chefs kiss.
~
u/Regnisyak1:
One of my best-kept secrets this rankdown was I don’t like Randy very much. Objectively, Randy has a great story, but something about him never landed for me while watching Gabon. I think he helps make that season more negative than it should be, and I feel like even though Randy was a monstrous dick, no one deserves the downfall he got, and I think it was just unnecessarily cruel. That being said, Randy is a quote machine, and watching the cranky old man on the season did contribute, and he had great relationships throughout, especially with Sugar, Crystal, Bob, Marcus, and others. Plus his leaving Fang and getting his mohawk were all funny.
Personal Rank: 100/821. 8/10.
~~~~~
u/ninjedi1:
Randy Bailey 1.0 (8th Place, Gabon)
Randy, in my humble opinion, might be the best Survivor villain of all time in terms of entertainment. He has a great story of slowly becoming a massive dick throughout the season before getting an ultimate downfall. Right at the start of the season he says his job is a videographer, and then cuts to a confessional of him saying how he edits wedding videos for a living, but isn’t a positive person, hates marriage, and will never get married. Randy ends up on Fang but isn’t entirely his full blown asshole self yet, at least with his tribe. In his confessionals he lets his tribemates have it, like saying how Gillian is annoying and hasn’t accomplished anything, or saying how the GC’s best decision as leader was resigning from the leadership position. However, when he interacts with his tribemates, he’s more reserved and friendly, like joking about being full when offered a grasshopper to eat, or him not really giving his opinion on the first vote when asked by Matty.
However, the reservness slowly goes away as time passes, as he gets more and more annoyed with the Fang tribe. When they start running low on rice and start to pitch that they need to eat less, which annoys GC and they get into an argument about it. This leads t oRandy to decide that his plan is to just sit and watch the team fall apart. That’s not even the end of the rice saga as Randy brings it up again that they’re low on rice and need to ration it better, but knows that Crystal, GC, and Kenny aren’t listening to him at all. The more dickish Randy slowly starts to make his appearance, and he ends up forming an alliance with Dan, Matty, and Susie, allowing him to be in control of Fang, but that quickly changes due to the swap.
The first tribe swap of the season happens where they have to vote on who the most important members of the tribe were and rank accordingly (and you can actually see Randy’s board where he ranks Susie above GC and Ken, based) and Randy actually scores pretty high, placing 3rd on Fang. He gets taken into Kota along with Dan and Susie, and knows that he needs to fit in or else he might get voted out. Luckily for Randy, most of the original Kota hates Fang, and since Randy is able to perform well in the challenges, he fits right in. He mocks Kelly and Ken when they ask for a bite of reward, straight up telling them no, and then mocking Crystal when she starts to cry since they’ve lost so much, going “wah wah wah”. Even after a different reward challenge, he mocks the entire Fang tribe by mentioning how they’re probably out of rice now while they were feasting. This even leads Randy to get pulled into the Onion alliance, replacing Bob. However, his first thing that the alliance does with him in it now is vote off his friend, Dan.
So while Randy’s main edit is watching this go become a villainous asshole, one of the smaller and more missable plots Randy has is his bond with Dan. When Dan returns from Exile, everyone thinks he has the idol except for Randy, who is the only one to defend Dan, saying that he’s just paranoid and tired, and they even end up in a short lived alliance together on Fang. During the tribe swap, both Randy and Dan tell Corinne not to pick GC, as they are both in sync and know what’s good for the tribe. A main moment that really shows how well they work together is in the big hill ball rolling challenge, where their teamwork is able to help clench the victory for Kota over the more dysfunctional Ace and Sugar on Fang. However, Dan has been annoying the rest of the tribe, and Randy tries to distance himself from him. But when Kota wants to vote out Dan over Susie due to fear of an idol, Randy tries to sway the vote to Susie instead, but Dan ends up going home instead. What really makes this impactful is after that tribal, when Randy was asked about it, Randy said that the other tribals were easy, and then got annoyed when everyone laughed as he told them he wasn’t trying to be funny. This is the one rare moment where Randy gets specifically mad at his alliance since he had to watch his friend get voted out.
But now it's F10 and it looks like the merge is finally here! And it's looking like the merge and Randy is on cloud 9. He enjoys the feast, and when the clue for the idol gets revealed, he finds it almost instantly and then he and Marcus convince everyone to throw it into the ocean, with an accompanying confessional where he calls himself the king of Gabon. This all comes crashing down as it's not a merge, it's a second tribe swap! While the Kota six are split evenly between both teams, giving them numerical advantage, Randy worries about Susie flipping and discusses throwing the challenge to vote out Matty. However, Matty ends up single handedly winning immunity for them, and in the next episode, Randy’s fears were confirmed and Susie flipped, voting out Marcus. Of course, it's not all bad news, as Fang ends up winning reward! Except for the fact they won after a five minute argument about the best way to make the easiest shot in the world. It's honestly hilarious to see after the old Kota members on Fang react to seeing Marcus go.
After that it's the merge for real this time! This is where a lot of Karma catches up to Randy. You see, with Susie clearly sided with the Fang members, Sugar is now seen as the swing vote. However, all of Randy’s actions on picking on Fang during the reward challenges and his bad attitude at the recent golf challenge makes her really dislike him and want him out first. However, the Kotas don’t want to do that since Randy is in their alliance, so Sugar ends up siding with the original Fang members who also don’t like Randy and votes off Charlie, meaning Randy inadvertently screwed everything up.
Randy’s boot episode is where Randy is at his worst, which also means he’s at his best since he’s about to go. Randy decides that he’s just going to keep being an asshole, and he lives up to that as the auction is the next reward challenge. He annoys everyone as he gets his hands on beer and nuts as well as a plate of spaghetti. He also buys cookies for the whole tribe and gives one to everyone except Sugar who doesn’t want one, and when he offers his cookie to her, she takes it and gives it to Matty, which annoys him. He then comes up with a genius strategy, basically making everyone miserable so that everyone will vote for him, and then he’ll use the idol that Bob found to make himself safe and take out Susie for personal reasons. It's foolproof! Except there’s one problem. Bob never found the idol because Sugar found it. That alone would be funny if that was that and Randy just got voted off, but there’s more. Bob made a fake and told Sugar about it, and she tells him to give it to Randy if he wants to make it farther. Bob complies, and Randy is none the wiser, super smug with the fact his plan is going to work. This tribal is great cause it gives us two iconic voting confessionals, with Sugar old bigot vote and Crystal’s shouting vote, and the cherry on top is Randy standing up and playing the idol all smug, only for it to be revealed to be fake while Sugar and Crystal laugh, and Randy is out of the game.
Of course, that’s not entirely the end, and Randy would get one last fuck you to the final three. He grills Sugar for laughing at him out the door, asking her if she didn’t realize he would be on the jury, yells at Bob for making a joke at his expense about the fake idol and screwing him over, and gets annoyed with Susie about her saying she feels sorry for him. He then delivers the iconic voting confessional “All three of you can kiss my ass!”. Randy’s villain journey from annoyed old man who’s keeping it to himself to overconfident dick rubbing in the other team's faces to massive downfall caused by his own auctions is a lot of fun, especially with how genuine he feels at all times. Without Randy, Gabon wouldn’t be nearly as great as it is.
~
SMC0629: 11
DryBonesKing: 16
Zanthosus: 19
Tommyroxs45: 8
Regnisyak1: 23
DavidW1208: 6
ninjedi1: 12
Average Placement: 13.571
Total Points: 95
Standard Deviation: 6.079 (12th Lowest)

This idea came to me in college and I've sort of played around with it over the years. I would appreciate any constructive criticism, especially focused on the prose and characters. This would be the introductory chapter of one of the main characters, Karl Klug, who is an important noble in his country. I hope you enjoy!
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KARL 1
Three men stood beneath a great oak branch, hands bound and nooses pulled tight around their necks. The branches connected to a mighty tree, old as the mountains themselves. The men were all silent, as were the other corpses gently swinging in the morning breeze. The air was still cold from the dew, not yet banished by the still rising sun.
“If you have anything left to say, now would be the time.” Karl Klug, Lord of the Wald said as he eyed them with disgust from the back of his chestnut horse destrier. He sat tall in the saddle, his close cropped brown hair and clean shaven face a far cry from the ragged appearance of the condemned. His heavy, black, woolen cloak was pulled tight, the hood up to block out the wind. Under the cloak he wore a simple brown doublet, with a crest bearing the black tree on a green field that was the sigil of his house. Karl always made sure to represent House Klug when acting as Lord, as was his duty.
These men were thieves, rapists, and murderers. They attacked travelers on the roads of the Wald, and it was Karl’s duty, as Duke of the Wald and Lawspeaker to the King, to keep those roads safe. The law demanded only one punishment for their transgressions. Their fate would serve as a warning to other would-be bandits.
The first man, a stern face and hard eyes, said nothing, but spat on the ground. The second man, fat and whimpering, managed to speak out in between choked sobs “Please m’lord. Mercy! They made me do it!”
The last man, a boy no older than fifteen, barked at him to be quiet. “We’re done for Ozzy. Go to the Wainman with some dignity, would you?” Such bravery in one so young. What could he have become if he followed a different path?
With that, Karl nodded to Jorivs, his household Resolver, who pulled hard on the ropes, them each one by one into the air, sending them kicking and choking into the Beyond. The second one, Ozzy, screamed and begged for his mother before the rope cut him off. Jorivs tied the final line off to a stake, while Wolter, his barber-surgeon companion, scribbled something down in a book. “They go to their doom in all different spirits, yet they all dance the hangman’s jig just the same.” He said as he turned a page.
“Amazing the lessons they teach at Spierpont.” Jorvis chuckled as the last pair of legs stopped kicking. “Shame Lemba couldn’t join us.”
“The Elf has seen his fair share of death. Let him enjoy his peace.”
“I only jest, my lord.” Jorvis said as he took a sip from his canteen. He motioned for Wolter to take a drink, but the older man was too busy furiously scribbling in his notebook to notice.
Karl looked to the east. The dawn was still cresting the horizon. “I’m off to the woods. I will not be disturbed.” Matilda and the children will still be sleeping. Best not to wake them with my return.
His pages nodded and replied in unison “Yes my lord.” By Karl’s standing order, Jorvis was peeling the boots of the dead men, better they should shoe a pauper than rot on the condemned. Wolter sketched the hanging men in his book, taking special care to note the lolling tongues and soiled breeches. Jorvis had the boots in a loose pile when he pulled a knife and a small pouch from his belt. “The eyes,my lord?”
He nodded grimly. “Hain will have his due.” Jorvis took a small stool and set to work, all six organs removed in a few quick flashes of the blade. Jorvis placed the grim package in its usual place on Baldur, Karl’s horse. With the bloody sack tied to his saddle, Karl rode off towards the thick forest nearby, a page in tow to hold his horse.
The page started to speak, and then stopped himself. He was a small boy, ten or eleven at the most. He had been to several executions before and not once had he been troubled by the sight of death.
Karl noticed the indecisive boy and helped him along.
“Something bothering you, Wiglaf?”
“The” came a squeak. Wiglaf cleared his throat and tried again. “The Resolver grumbles, lord. He grumbles that it would be easier to take the eyes before hanging the condemned.” He said meekly
“I know he grumbles. I know. But this is the way things are to be done. Taking their eyes before they hang is not the punishment for their crime. These men had their trial, and I sentenced them to die, not to be tortured. Do you understand, Wiglaf?”
“Aye, my lord. I understand.” Wiglaf nodded.
Wiglaf. So eager to learn but so nervous to offend. I’ll talk to his father the next time we meet.
This was the first time in months he had a chance to take in the forest. The influx in banditry in the past year had been a great source of woe not only to Karl, but to the Waldish people as a whole. They had enough to be fearful of without their fellow man adding to their problems. It had kept Karl up many nights, as he racked his brain trying to figure out the cause.
He had built roads, sick houses, held fairs, endorsed the Bard’s college, done all in his power to keep the people happy and content and quiet, and yet, there were some who still turned to crime. Why? No. Not now. Not here. Karl decided that he needed to rest his mind from constant affairs of state, and allow himself to relax before he made his offering.
They reached a clearing, and Karl dismounted. “Hitch up Baldur and rub him down. Have something to eat from my pack if you get hungry. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone this time.” The page nodded. Wiglaf, a good lad, if a bit timid at times. Weather had concealed his typical path into the great forest, but muscle memory lead his way.
He enjoyed his solitary walks in the woods, it gave him a chance to forget the woes of rulership, the frustrations of fatherhood, and the horrible curse that befell his bloodline. Now that things had quieted down with the bandits, Karl hoped he might have more time to be a husband to his wife, Matilda, and a father to their children. His three children, though nearly adults themselves, still tended to make a commotion. What they need is a firm hand. Their mother will spoil them rotten if she has her way. Karl laughed to himself. She always gets her way.
His feet knew where he was going, even if his mind did not. He always returned to the same place, no matter what direction he turned. Are the woods themselves magic, or just the creatures that inhabit it? He wondered as he found the well worn dirt path covered by a tunnel of tree limbs. The branches must have kept this clear from storms after all.
Few who entered the Wald came back alive, save for the Elves and their slaves, who usually came out in one piece. Most who walked too far past the tree line simply vanished. There were rumors, of course. Even his own grandfather had claimed that he was, in fact, the same Helm Klug that had vanished without a trace in the winter of 542. He had fallen through a tree hollow and into the myth shrouded realm of Cunnan, where time flows differently, or so the stories go. As such, though ninety-five years had passed from the time of the vanishing, Helm had only aged ten years or so.
Karl’s realm was a dangerous one, even without the recent rise of the highwaymen. To an outsider, walking alone in the duchy of the Wald was like strolling past a dark alley with coins jingling loudly. To Karl Klug, Lord of the Wald, it was like walking into his own bedroom. He had grown up here, he knew that danger lurked behind every tree, above every branch, and below every root. Not once had he seen anything like what Grandfather Helm had rambled about. No fairies or witches or traces of Hain. Still, one had to tread carefully here. Even Karl would not dare to venture in some parts of the forest, for an ancient force still had power in the dark parts of Bordrim.
I hope Hain will be pleased with my tribute. To survive here, one had to know when to fight, when to run, and when to submit. Some might call that heretical, going against the word of the church, But that was not something he wished to think about now, not when he was trying to be at peace.
The fresh air cleared his head and refreshed his spirit. Karl took a long, deep breath filling his lungs with the cold morning damp. He knew he would not be distrubed here, as none but the Duke of the Wald may travel to this part of the woodland.
He had been Duke ever since the death of his father when he was just four years old, though he had not ruled in his own right until he was fourteen. In that time, he had learned much from his regents, and his mother, who was far more capable than many made her out to be. She had taught him that most men, however pure their intentions may seem, nearly always had some ulterior motive that they wished to advance. Karl remembered that as his most valuable lesson, and it had assisted him greatly as he came of age. My father’s sycophants did not last long when I ruled in my own right.
The sound of rushing water came to his ear as he walked by the River Cember where his father had drowned. He used to intentionally go out of his way to avoid being near it, but now he barely gave it a second glance. I used to be so afraid of the water, until I understood why Father died. But by then, Mother had the Court Elf Lembe throw me in Sillac Pond. How I thrashed! It didn’t seem so scary after that. Fate is far more terrifying than any danger and far more comforting than any joy. Once you have been through the worst, everything else can be done with ease.
Karl heard a branch snap in the trees to his right, and his hand slipped to the silver coated dagger at his hip. He stood still as the trees around him, slowly moving his eyes from right to left as he looked for the source of the noise. Funny. I was afraid of harmless water for so many years when there were very real threats all around me the entire time. As long as I stay on the path, no beast would dare harm me.
There were no further noises, and judging by the humming of insects and the singing of birds, there was no real threat. Probably a stag or maybe one of Grandfather Helm’s Fae creature having a laugh at my expense. He continued walking for some time, climbing up small, rolling hills and ducking under fallen tree trunks, before reaching a final, gentle incline which led to Hidden Hill. That was where they found his older brother, Jasper, hanging from the tree at the top. That was the day his father had told him about the curse that stalked their family.
He made his way up the slope, as he had countless times before. The top of the hill was clear, save for one tree, planted by Karl’s grandfather Helm upon regaining control of the Wald after decades of Gaunt rule. His family adopted that tree, and made it part of their heraldry. A great black tree, sounded by the green of the forest.
The air seemed to resist being pulled into his lungs now. He had to unclench his teeth, relax his shoulders. He looked down at his fingers. He had scraped away the flesh near the nails on his thumbs and middle digits. How long have I been at it this time? It is difficult to relax when I am surrounded by some many painful reminders of the past. No matter how deep in this forest I walk, I cannot escape the memories that tears at me.
He kept his eyes low. Karl enjoyed seeing the blooming flowers and vibrant weeds that grew along the path he always walked. One particular group of plants caught his eye. A clover patch. The old folks said that in every clover patch, there was one particularly special sprout. And so Karl made a point to look over each and every patch he saw, even if only a passing glance.
What’s this? He said to the tiny green sprout as he crouched down for a closer look. A clover with four leaves. Lucky, lucky. Karl smiled as he plucked the clover and put it in his coin purse. And a good omen too. I know Otto will love this.
Karl continued up the path, and sat beneath the great black tree, looking out onto the castle that stood proud below in the clearing. Grey Hallow, it was called, and it was among the oldest in Bordrim, predating even the great fortresses of the Empire that many great houses now called their own. With two rings of thick, tall walls and towers covering every angle of approach, no enemy had ever successfully stormed the walls. Though a knife in the back is sometimes better than a ram at the gate, as history has proved.
Karl grabbed the now wet sack that Jorvis had provided. He quickly found a small knothole and stuffed the grisly offering side. The Dule clasped his hands together and bowed his head. “Haim, please take this offering that we may know quiet peace.” He sighed. Was Haim even real? Or just another story to make obedient children?
As Karl reclined in the unearthed roots of the black oak, he smiled. *Real or not, offerings to Haim aren’t all terrible.*This was the tree that he had married Matilda under, after he came back from the Siege of Hammerring, the last remaining Imperial stronghold in Bordrim. He had made a fortune by securing the ransoms of important Imperials, bringing House Klug from the embarrassment of near bankruptcy to extreme wealth in a single day. He had spent coins like a drunken gambler blessed with immovable luck that night, and from then on men had begun to say he was the richest man in the kingdom. I don’t know about any of that. But riches aren’t just measured in gold. Karl thought as he ran his fingers along the black bark of the tree.
Searching through the leather pack he took from his saddle, Karl grabbed the cloth that held the dried venison and cheese he had carried along for his breakfast. The castle will just be coming to life now. He thought as the sun began to climb higher in the sky. After he had broken his fast, he pulled a quill, a tightly sealed ink pot, and a piece of parchment from his sack. He began to write.
“Your smile, a joy
Your laugh, a pleasure.
When we are together,
Troubles are light as a feather.”
Karl would have a servant hide that among Matilda’s things, where she would discover it later. Even after fifteen years of marriage, Karl loved to create these little surprises for his wife, just as she loved finding his cumbersome gifts and clumsy poetry.
A long, steady drumming sounded over the tops of the trees, booming from the direction of Grey Hallow, but far beyond. In the west, birds squaked and scattered to the wind. By the cadence of their beat, Karl knew it was the Elves, come to pay their respects and receive letters of safe passage as required by the Pact. A little earlier than expected. No matter. I prefer early to late. No doubt my Chamberlain, Aldred, will have everything prepared. Karl sprang to his feet, dusted off his trousers, and rolled the dried parchment. He followed the path back to the castle at a quick pace, humming a song his Bard had sung the previous night while they slept under the stars.
The day had well and truly begun upon his return. Servants wearing the green and black of his house dashed about as their duties required. Men stood guard wearing the Great Black Tree of the Klugs on their livery. The halls were alive with chatter and the scuffing of feet. Karl knew a long line of petitioners awaited him in his hall, but everyone knew that an audience with elves took precedence over the squabbles of men. They had all heard the drums, and they would be pressed together like bees in a hive just for a glimpse of the pointy eared outlanders. Every year, young elves Elves embarked on a great journey that they called *THING* or “The Taste” in the Imperial tongue. They spent anywhere from one to one hundred years living among the mortals, learning their ways and customs. Some spent the rest of their millennia-long lives among the mortals, watching dynasties rise and fall, technological marvels stun the world, and should they be unfortunate enough to make friends or find lovers, they witness death on a scale previously unimaginable.
Lemba is due to return home by the end of the year. After seventy years of service to my family, he’s earned his rest. Perhaps one of the newcomers would like a position at court. I would very much like to continue my lessons. Karl flexed his fingers at the mere thought of magic. Outlawed in most realms of men, Karl had insisted on instruction. The training was hard and the consequences if discovered by the Church would be dire, but in a land as dangerous as the Wald, every advantage counted.
The drums boomed, growing louder as the elves approached closer. I must hurry. I cannot insult them by wearing the same clothes I just wore to an execution. Karl jogged down the path from whence he came. Wiglaf was holding Baldur by his reigns, and he snapped to attention the moment he saw Karl approach. “The drums my lo-”
“I heard. Ride ahead and have your father prepare clothing for court.”
“Right away, my lord.” The page said as he galloped away. Karl followed at a quick but more relaxed pace. No sense in appearing sweaty and exasperated for my guests. He reasoned as he rode down the winding path.
His servants were waiting at the gate for him. They grabbed their reins from Baldur, and Karl climbed down from the horse. “Andred has selected your clothing, m’lord. Right this way, if you please.” Onna, the fat seamstress said and she beckoned him to follow. She led him to the laundry, where Karl pulled the dirty articles he had worn for the execution and picked up the courtly clothing she had laid out. He pulled the white linen tunic on first and fasted it was a leather belt inlain with a large silver buckle. His slipped into brown wool trousers next and grabbed a pair of light leather boots. While I won’t appear filthy in front of my guests, high fashion is not something I care to waste my gold on.
Karl sat in his finely carved chair on the dais at the end of the hall. It sat to the right of an identical, but smaller chair where his wife sat*.* She wore a black and green dress with a modestly cut v-neck which exposed her pale skin. Her golden hair lay in one long braid along her shoulder. and her piercing blue eyes smiled back at Karl’s own green. This was the women he had fallen in love with the moment he first spoke to her. She had been less convinced, at first. While he had been the highest born of her many suitors, he had not been her first choice.
“I thought you were boring!” She would tease him later. “You barely said a word the first three times we met.”
“I was nervous.” He would reply. “You captured my heart and my wits that day in High Hibaltia.”
“Well, that wit is what won me. Perhaps I just borrowed it for a time.” She smiled.
Cleverness, justness, kindness. These are the things that make me love you.
The couple held each other's hands as they looked over the court. The chamberlain, Aldred, was quickly giving some last minute instructions to his son and another page, and they immediately scrambled to their work. Guards stood firmly at attention in front of the doors, knowing that they would be facing a hallway full of eager onlookers at any moment.
Their three children stood to the side, talking amongst themselves. Grimbold was the oldest. And doomed to die young, as my brother and uncle have. He was tall, taller than Karl even. He had the arms of a blacksmith’s apprentice and Karl’s own brown curls. He shared his mother’s sky blue eyes and slender nose, as well as her quick temper. He’ll want more responsibility soon. I’ve already denied him a squireship. Perhaps a minor position at court would assuage him.
Next to Grimbold was Charlotte, their only daughter. She too had Karl’s curly brown hair, but she wore it in a long braid, like her mother. She was just like Matilda, in fact. They were both skilled with numbers, and Charlotte’s fascination with bards rivaled Matilda’s own obsession. The two of them often pleaded with Karl to hire this performer or that one, and Duke Karl Klug, Lawspeaker of Bordrim, would not resist his girls, especially Charlotte. She had just turned fourteen, and would be expecting suitors soon. I doubt any of them would be worthy of her. The two of us share a thin patience for stupidity and love makes fools of us all. Especially this false, courtly love the Pawley’s have been peddling these last centuries.
And then there was Otto, the youngest of the three. He stood in between his brother and sister, obviously uncomfortable and being talked over. Nervous and shy, Otto had trouble making friends with children his age. He got along well enough with Wiglaf, but the two never actively sought each other out for play. Probably waiting for the other to make the first move. Karl thought to himself.
“Otto!” Karl yelled. The boy snapped nearly to attention. “Come here, lad. I have a surprise for you.” The boy warily came before his parents.
“Close your eyes and stick out your hands, Otto.” Matilda gently urged.
Otto did as he was told. “Karl dug around in his coin purse and pulled out the clover and a gold coin. He placed the two in Otto’s open palm.
His eyes beamed just before the rest of his face lit up. “Is it real?” He asked as he squealed at his gift.
“Just found it this morning. I figured, with you as my son, I already have all the luck I need.” Otto grinned wide, his missing baby teeth apparent in his otherwise toothy smirk. “Now, with that coin, I want you to find a book that we can read together. Would you like that?” “Yes, father! Yes, yes!” Otto exclaimed, almost shaking with excitement.
“Now get back to your place. The Elves will be here soon.:
“Yes, father!” Otto slipped the clover and coin into his own purse and hurried back to his siblings.
Matilda leaned over and kissed Karl on the forehead. “You’re a good man, Karl Klug.” His mind raced back to dawn, and the creaking of ropes. “I try to be, my love.” He kissed her forehead back. There was a commotion behind the doors to the hallway. It started as a low murmur, and then grew in size, becoming a roar of excitement.
Lemba, Karl’s tutor and resident Elf, took
The Elves had arrived.
Two figures, hooded in dark crimson cloaks, approached the dais. Less than a quarter of what I was told to expect. Behind them were six large, muscular, green skinned orcs bound together at wrist and ankle. Less than a tenth of what I had prepared for. Some Orcs had obviously suffered wounds in the recent past, black blood welling up through tightly wrapped bandages at shoulder, scalp, or thigh. Karl knew from past experience that were these wounds even a slight inconvenience to the Elves, the Orc would be killed with no more pity than lame donkey.
The two cloaked figures marched in a praticed cadence as they moved towards the Duke and Duchess. They all move like that in this room. Is it tradition? Or something more calculated? Lemba, can you enlighten me?
“In due time.” The elf’s voice answered in Karl’s mind. “For now, let us see who has survived the journey.
Karl cast a quick and silent spell to identify the travelers, his only tell was a twitch of the nose, which may have been mistaken for an aborted sneeze.
Viksna and Piske Dun Beske, twin siblings of a prominent Orhani family. Lemba leaned and whispered into Karl’s ear. “The youngest children of a powerful family of sorcerors. T
“Viksna and Piske you illuminate my land with your presence.” Karl’s voice boomed across the hall. It had been so long since he had shouted without magical amplification that he wondered if his throat could even yell anymore.
The two outsiders removed their hoods and stood with clasped hands and bowed heads. Their hair golden, their ears pointed, they were both of a similar height and build, shorter than most men in the room, and Karl could tell they were thin even under their robes.
“And you honor us with your hospitality, Lord Klug.” The pair said in unison.
“You’ve arrived sooner than expected. Was your trip pleasant?”
“We ran into some trouble with monsters, I’m afraid.” Piske said, matter of factly.
“ They devoured quite a few of our slaves.” Viksna added. And of course, the Shadow King must have his due. Our traveling companions were not to his liking. We two and The six Orcs you see behind us are all that is left, I’m afraid, out of the seventeen souls we departed with. Ah, yes. The older races call Haim by his title and dare not refer to him by name. A superstitious bunch, the Elves.
Three slaves for each of us is hardly fitting.” Piske scoffed.
“A shame. I will see that they are tended to. And my servants shall make up for your deficit. See these creatures to their quarters.” He ordered with a wave of his hand.
Guards cautiously herded the six chained beasts on the points of spears, but the broken creatures simply did as they were told and offered no resistance, not even a scowl. They were broken in mind and spirit, they simply existed to do as they were told. Even still, they looked as if they could crush a man’s skull without much effort, and so the guards insisted on caution. I cannot say I blame them.
The instant their slaves were gone from the room, the elves both went down to one knee, each pulling a small bundle from their cloaks. In unison they spoke. “We have come to pay tribute to the Lord of the Wald. Bordermaster, River Watcher, Upholder of the Pact. We offer these small tokens to you, Great Lord.”
Karl pushed up from his seat on the dais and walked towards the pair, gesturing them to stand. This well rehearsed speech never fails to delight my courtiers. “You have left your great capitol of Orhani to live amongst the lesser lived. You have endured freezing cold and driving rain. You have crossed river and mountain, field and fell, and traversed the Wald itself. You have fought beast and monster and seen many things that Man fears in his dreams. You have lost friends and companions along your way, and for that, you have our sympathy. However, all is not lost, and these deaths have not been in vain. You have proved yourselves worthy of fellowship through your very deeds. I bid you stand, as friends of Men.” The two figures stood, pulling back their hoods as the ritual demanded. They both looked as beautiful as painted godlings, young as if in their prime, though each must have seen a hundred years come and go.
The two approached, stepping slowly, deliberately, in unison to the dais where Karl sat. Piske stepped forward, leaving his sister still as a statue with her bundle still in her hands.
“For you, my lord. A gift.” He bowed and handed the package to Karl.
“Thank you, Piske.” Karl exchanged a rolled parchment for the gift. The container was small, and light. It could have been empty if Karl did not know better. He pulled the string holding everything together, and opened the paper wrapping. Inside was a ring, small and green, with all manner of beasts carved intricately on the sides.
“This is remarkable, Piske. You have my thanks.” Karl said as he turned the ring over in his hands. He spied an eagle, a fish, a rat, and a bear amongst the throng of creatures on the metal.
Piske looked to Lemba, eyes practically screaming for help. Lemba chuckled to himself for a moment and then cocked his head in Karl’s direction.
“May I approach, my lord?” the Elf asked in the elegant Elvish tongue, hands out stretched. Karl nodded his approval and he came forward. Piske leaned forward, taking the ring from the Lord’s hand and slipped the emerald ring onto his own left pointer finger.
“This ring is rather...peculiar, my lord. Observe.” The Elf cleared his throat and began to shout “Will one of you fellows come out? We’d like to make introductions.”
A heavy silence, followed by quiet, confused muttering amongst the onlookers. Then a shriek came from the rear of the crowd, growing louder and closer by the second.
That’s when it appeared before Karl’s eyes. It came forward at a run. Sharp claws, huge black eyes, and jagged yellow teeth.
“The ring summons rats?” Karl answered in Elvish in between laughs.
“Or maybe it makes the wearer forget his manners.” came a perfect Elvish reply from the rat. Karl’s eyes shot wide. Bhalik’s Maw. Did that rodent just speak? He regained his composure and looked around his court. Everyone was staring up at him. Had they all heard too?
“They can’t hear me, you big oaf. Only the ring bearer can.” Karl glanced at the green band around his finger. “My name is difficult to pronounce, but for the sake of simplicity, call me Ymaut. Piske tells me you have a rather large network of informants. How would you like to expand?
“We’ll discuss another time. Thank you, Piske. You honor me.”
Piske bowed. “Of course, my lord. My sister has brought you a gift as well” gesturing to his companion. He stepped back to take her place, while Viksna approached, bowed and held out her tribute. The thing she brought was bigger and heavier than her brother’s gift. When Karl had finished unwrapping it, he understood why.
“A Grimoire.” he said quietly.
“May I approach, my lord?” Karl nodded absently as he flipped through the pages.
Viksna whispered. “I am told you enjoy practicing magic. I would be happy to teach you, if you’d like.”
“This is too much to trade for a mere letter of safe conduct. Anything in my power to give you is yours, if you but name it.”
Viksna thought for only a brief moment. “Should there be an opening for a position in your court that I may be suitable for, I would like to enter your service.”
Lemba is leaving my service, to return to Outland. If you would care to remain here and assume his role upon his departure, I would welcome the company.” Karl said as he struggled to tear his eyes away from the book. That will be all for today. My servants will show you to your chambers. Should you want for anything at all, you need only ask and it is yours.”
The two bowed low. “You honor us, my lord.” the two Elves said as one. As they slowly walked from the hall, Karl’s Chamberlain, Aldred, whispered in his ear. “My lord, Sir Vanya has come to charge Baron Stevers as an oathbreaker. My duty calls. Karl thought, the grimoire still open in his hand.

I've seen a few post about people worrying about hairloss. I did chemotherapy with cold cap in 2022 and thought I'd share some things that help minimize hair loss. Of course weight loss is different from chemo (namely your blood isn't toxic) but I thought some things may apply.
First of all, most hair loss occurs in 3 situations: 1. During your sleep, hair has friction against your pillow and may be pulled out. 2. After you shower, your hair is wet which makes it heavy, fragile, and prone to tangling. 3. When you brush your hair, mats and tangles will pull on your hair as you brush.
First of all, how do we minimize hair loss during sleep? Satin and silk creates less friction with hair than cotton pillows. So, it helps to use satin/silk pillow covers or wear a satin/silk hair bonnet. A bonnet also protects your hair from being stepped on by your cats when they want you to feed them at 4AM.
Secondly, you can minimize hair loss in the shower by using a 2-in-1 shampoo and conditioner, so you rub your hair less or when you use shampoo, just rub the shampoo with your fingertips on the scalp without tangling the hair and also try to cover your hair with conditioner without tangling and rubbing hair together. Try to lay long hair on top of your scalp or on your shoulders in a way where it's not hanging down freely and pulling on your scalp with the weight of the water. Avoid towel turbans as that creates tension on your fragile wet hair. Also, during chemo, I had to use shampoo and conditioner that was free of all sorts of chemicals. The chemo nurse told me "just treat your hair as if you bleached it and completely fried it and you need to be extra careful with it."
Thirdly, you may want to get a flexible Wet Brush. Because this type of brush is flexible, it will pull on your hair less than conventional brushes when you go through tangles. While most hair loss occurs during brushing, avoiding hairloss from brushing works best if your hair isn't tangled or matted. Therefore it is best to brush often (and carefully), at least once a day and brush before and after showers. If you don't use conditioner to make brushing easier, wait until the hair is dry after showering.
So, those are the 3 situations where you lose most hair and how to avoid it. However, you can do a few more things in other situations to minimize hair loss in those 3 situations.
-avoid tight hair styles like ponytails and buns. Any tension on the hair is bad. Opt instead for loose braids or clips. -use scrunchies instead of those thin hairbands that are more common. I usually like to get my scrunchies in Japan town because they tend to hold my hair better than American scrunchies. -if hair loss is already happening, part your hair on the other side until your hair is healthier. I did this during chemo and the bald spot where I parted my hair was much bigger than the bald spot by the other part. -long hair is heavy and the weight will pull on your hair. It helps to get a shorter haircut or add layers to your hair to make it weigh less and minimize hair loss.
Lastly, this is more of a theory but here's an idea for stimulating hair growth when hair has already fallen out. During chemo, you wear a cold cap because the cold temperature minimizes blood flow to the scalp because the blood is full of toxic chemo drugs. Chemo nurses tell you to avoid hair growth supplements like Latisse during chemo because they work by stimulating blood flow to the area. But when you lose weight, your blood isn't toxic, so blood flow to the area should actually be good. You could try scalp massages or warm compresses on areas where hairloss has already occured but this is just my personal theory and you may get better treatment ideas from a plastic surgeon, a dermatologist or even your hair stylist.
You can also talk with your hairstylist about your fear of hair loss during weight loss and they may have some other tips to help you avoid hairloss.

This is a game of borrowing and loaning words! To give our conlangs a more naturalistic flair, this game can help us get realistic loans into our language by giving us an artificial-ish "world" to pull words from!
The Telephone Game will be posted every Monday and Friday, hopefully.

Rules

1) Post a word in your language, with IPA and a definition.
Note: try to show your word inflected, as it would appear in a typical sentence. This can be the source of many interesting borrowings in natlangs (like how so many Arabic words were borrowed with the definite article fossilized onto it! algebra, alcohol, etc.)
2) Respond to a post by adapting the word to your language's phonology, and consider shifting the meaning of the word a bit!
3) Sometimes, you may see an interesting phrase or construction in a language. Instead of adopting the word as a loan word, you are welcome to calque the phrase -- for example, taking skyscraper by using your language's native words for sky and scraper. If you do this, please label the post at the start as Calque so people don't get confused about your path of adopting/loaning.
Last Time...

᚛ᚋᚐᚎᚑᚁ᚜ Littoral Tokétok by im

᚛ᚑᚇᚓᚖᚐ᚜ Alu'e [aˈlũ(ː).ə] n. Mohawk, mane, or other similar structure of long, course hair running along an animal's sagittal plane.
᚛ᚍᚖᚐᚆᚓᚋ᚜ Ccefuk [ˈʃə.fək̚] v. To adorn one's hair; to pin up one's hair.
᚛ᚍᚑᚆ᚜ Caf [ʃaf] n. Decorative hair pin or ribbon, used as a means of both putting up and decorating hair.
᚛ᚁᚒᚍᚑᚆ᚜ Socaf [ˈso.t͡ʃaf] n. Headdress; ensemble of hair ornamentations. Derived from caf using the collective augmentative so-.
᚛ᚆᚑᚍ᚜ Fac [fat͡ʃ] n. Twist, braid, or dread (of hair). Derived from caf through metathesis.
᚛ᚏᚖᚐᚁᚑᚈ᚜ Tlésat [ˈtle.sat̚] n. A decorative hair stick often gifted to individuals during their coming of age ceremonies at the end-winter festival and worn for the remainder of the week-long celebrations. Traditionally, tlésat may only be worn during particularly culturally significant holidays, including future end-winter festivals. Typically, tlésat contain imagery and iconography of the sun returning after the end of winter as a symbol of the adult's ability to survive through hardship.
For the speakers of Tokétok, their alu'e would be analogous to head hair on humans and it starts between the ears near their forheads, is longest around where the crown of the head would be, and ends at the base of the neck. They often ccefuk their alu'e with (ho)caf, fac, and tlésat.

Stay cooler 😎
Peace, Love, & Conlanging ❤️

It’s that time of year again. Seasonal allergies are starting to show up and you never know if it will be hot or cold that day. I am looking for someone to vent my mundane troubles too, someone that I know would be there to help with whatever may come up, and someone that I can laugh with, someone to cry with, someone that would just run with a crazy idea without hesitation.
And what do I have to offer you may ask? Well, it is none other than the Spring cuddle package! To make sure that this is the right package for you, I have a few questions! Would you be looking for a person with a mohawk that is forever changing colors? How about a dad bod that is great for cuddling a keeping warm, and is strong at the same time? What if said dad bod had a few tattoos and piercings? What if he is finding more grey hairs in his neatly trimmed beard, but is embracing the fact that he is becoming a silver fox? What if he has a charming Southern accent and is fork lift certified? What if he enjoys helping turtles cross the road and is currently a cat dad to a very lovable void?
But wait! There’s more! For a limited time, I can include the nerdy outdoors man package! With this package, you will get someone who will happily venture out into the pollen filled wasteland commonly known as “outside” This package will include and is not limited to going on nice hikes and floating down rivers. Trips to the store to look at plants, and planting those plants. How about a late night bon fire and huddling together for warmth? What about the nerdy part of this package you ask? Well, say no more! Would you enjoy watching a guy looking very intense while building a NASA themed Lego set? Would you want to get up to an ungodly amount of tom foolery while in a DnD campaign? How about staying up late cuddled on the couch and watching sci fi and b horror movies? Do you want to play rock paper scissors to see who gets to play the PS5? Would you want to co-op on a Mario game? How about dressing up and going to a ren fair? What if I pranced around the house in my kilt? How about staying up late and going down the rabbit hole that is the weird side of youtube? If this part of the package catches your attention, I will get the blanket fort, movies, and snacks set up!
Let’s beat back those seasonal allergies! Act now while supplies last!

Okay. So. I'm annoyed by this. I use WICO because it's simple. It makes NPCs look a bajillion times better, but WICO apparently updates some NPCs. For instance, Jenassa, in vanilla she's a black-long-braided-haired Dunmer lady with only light yellow warpaint. In WICO, however, she has a blonde-side-swept-Mohawk and about four different masks of warpaint applied. What the heck, dude. Is there a mod to fix this? I tried WICO - Updated and Fixed but it did nothing to address the issue. I don't care about the essential flag changed - literally just the character edits. EDIT: After looking through the mod files (as per me trying to follow TildenJack's advice), I encountered an ESP I didn't see before called ImmersivePeople. Turn that off and it disables edits.