A fanfiction of The Nature of Predators by SpacePaladin15 https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/u19xpa/the_nature_of_predators/
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Memory Transcription Subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps
Date [standardized Earth time]: August 21, 2136
Walking into the lab, we were welcomed by a Pokemon that looked oddly familiar to me, a pink creature with predatory eyes and small wings that looked completely vestigial. It wasn’t until I saw the Human inspecting a large screen embedded in the wall that I recognised them. Lilith and Sara, who were among the first Terrans to have visited Venlil Prime. Lilith, whose species was the ‘Clefable’ if I remember correctly, gestured for the three of us to come further into the lab.
“Hello there, thank you for coming so soon after settling in! It seems a lot of Venlil are quite excited to do the Infinity Energy tests.”
I give a slightly nervous ear flick in response.
“I uh, really just wanted to get this over and done with.”
“Right, well in that case you’ll be glad to know that this takes no time at all. It’ll be over before you know it, and you’ll have your exchange partners beside you through the whole process.”
I look up at Marcel and Felix, who both give me further reassuring glances. Marcel seems a little nervous though, awkwardly standing just in front of the door and obviously having no idea what he should be doing. As the Clefable leads me over to a chair and gestures for me to take a seat, she passes over a piece of paper and a pen.
“This is the consent form, please read it out completely and carefully before writing your basic information and signature.”
Lilith then bounds away to converse with Sara, who is still looking at the large screen teeming with strange writing and graphs. As I read through the consent form, I only grow more worried.
‘Permanent Infinity Energy infusion.’
‘Monitored for remainder of Space Corps service.’
‘Possibility of previously unknown side effects.’
I look over to Marcel and Felix, beckoning them over with a wave of my tail. Marcel kneels down beside the chair, bringing the three of us to roughly eye level as Felix rests on his shoulder.
“Sorry, but can you two just… stay close? This seems a bit more intense than I was expecting.”
Felix nods furiously, followed by Marcel giving a small, closed mouth smile.
“Of course, we’ll be right here.”
“After this is over, we can all get some food from the cafeteria. A nice salad or something, alright?”
The Human’s suggestion sounds nice, and my tail sways in agreement. I sign the form after reading through it a second time, and Lilith soon comes over to collect it. As she does so, I see Sara walking over with some wires and wool clips. She places them on a nearby table before turning to finally address me.
“Hello Mr Slanek, sorry for the wait. It’s just, the data we’ve gathered so far from the other Venlil is beyond fascinating. It's an amazing opportunity to investigate how life not native to Earth reacts with Infinity Energy and uh… you probably don’t care, sorry.”
With a lightly red hue showing in her cheeks, she grabs the wires and clips, and gets started on attaching them to various points on my body. From my knees to my paws, snout, ears, stomach, chest, tail… almost everywhere, really. This all only makes my nerves grow even more.
“Now, just as a warning, this will probably hurt a bit. It’s only for a moment though, and it just means that everything is working.”
As Sara attaches the last clip to the wool on my back, she walks back over to large screen on the opposite wall, which I am surprised to find now displays a wireframe model of myself. I notice my paws are beginning to shake slightly, and I turn towards my exchange partners, hoping to find solace. Not so long ago, I would never have even fathomed the idea of looking to predators for comfort, but now…
I reach out a shaking paw towards them. After hesitating for a moment, a look of surprise coming over his face, Marcel reaches out and takes hold of it. Felix scurries down the Human’s arm and places his own small paw on top of mine as Marcel gives it a gentle squeeze.
Turning back to the rest of the lab, Sara is swiping her hand to rotate the wireframe model of my body, while Lilith is retrieving something from a large, formerly locked box nearby. She pulls out a small yellow crystal, and walks back over to me. Sara sidles up beside her partner, and double checks the wire clips one last time as the Clefable holds out the crystal to me.
“This is a revive, which will inject Infinity Energy directly into you. Make sure you hold onto it tight, ok?”
I take a deep breath, giving Marcel’s hand and Felix’s paw a gentle squeeze as I do so.
“Understood.”
I reach out with my other paw, and grab onto the revive. For a moment, nothing happens, but then the revive begins to glow. I shut my eyes tight against the blinding light, and tighten my grip on the crystal. A strange sensation, like waves of pressure, emanate from where the revive touches my paw. Through my arm, across my chest, up my neck and down my navel un-
“BRAKH!”
I cry out as pain suddenly engulfs my snout and legs. A loud beeping noise comes from the clips attached to them, which I silently pray means that everything is working as it should. It feels like my legs are trying to rip themselves apart at the knees, and I understand instantly why I’m sat down for this. My snout too lights up, as if on fire without the heat, forcing me to grit my teeth until my jaw starts hurting as well from the preassure alone. I tighten my grip on both the revive and my partners. I feel weight shifting, and Felix’s paw disappears. Not a moment later, something warm and fuzzy jumps up onto the chair beside me, reaching up to rest a paw on my shoulder.
“It’s alright, we’re right here.”
I go to wrap my tail around him, only to find something strange. My tail has gone numb. The mixture of sensations, from numbness to pain, continues for a little while. As the revive breaks down into grey dust, I can finally open my eyes and unclench my teeth. Steadily, the searing pain fades, leaving my tail numb and my snout and legs sore. I breathe deeply again, and I turn my attention to Felix and Marcel. I retrieve my paw from Marcel’s grip and Felix hops back down from the chair. The Human reaches over to lightly pat me on the back.
“There we go, all over now. You did great, Slanek.”
“Th-thanks.”
Lilith comes over and begins detaching the clips from my wool, while Sara is already tapping away at the screen, the wireframe model of my body now looking very different than it was before. The majority of it is now coloured a stark white, although notably my snout and legs are a dimmer shade of muted grey. The only splash of actual colour is in my tail, the entire limb a vivid purple, most intense at the tip. After inspecting it for a moment, Sara turns back around to address me.
“Thank you for coming, Mr Slanek. The full results of this test will be sent to your holopad shortly, but I’ll give you the most important information now.”
Sara taps the screen a few times, and labels written in Venscript appear as a key for the colours.
White – Mixed
Violet – Poison
Grey – Unknown
“Your results are consistent with what we’ve seen in all the other Venlil that have been tested so far. Most of your body contain a mixture of all Types of IE, similar to Humans. Different Venlil seem to have the Poison IE concentrate in different areas of the body, I’ve seen it in arms, abdomen, throat, wool and elsewhere. For you it’s in the tail, which so far seems fairly common. The grey zones are the most interesting, as they’re in the same areas for each and every Venlil; the snout and legs. Combine that with how this energy isn’t quite Normal but also not Typeless, not to mention it’s almost complete lack of reactivity to external or internal stimuli… it will certainly be an area of research I'll happily dive into soon.”
As Sara explains the results of the test, Marcel helps me to stand up again. At first, I’m a little unsteady as my legs still feel slightly odd, but leaning on his arm helps. The numb feeling in my tail slowly fades, and I experimentally shake it back and forth a few times. There is… Poison in it? It doesn’t feel any different, at least at the moment. After Lilith and Sara once again thank me for my cooperation, the three of us are ushered out of the lab, left standing together in the hallway as another mini herd files in after us. I turn to look up at my companions, a slight bloom making its way onto my face.
“Hey, uh, sorry for what happened in there. To predators it’s probably a show of weakness to need someone sticking nearby but-”
“Okay, we’re nipping that ‘weakness’ shit in the bud right now.”
Felix’s surprising angry voice catches me off guard, and for a second I’m worried that I said something to make him mad. I realise that, in a way, I had… but not for the reason I thought.
“Needing a friend ain’t weakness, Slanek. Just look at Marc and I!”
Marcel smiles at the Buizel, before turning his gaze back down at me. His predatory gaze seems stern, and yet somehow friendly, despite that being essentially oxymoronic.
“Slanek, if I’ve learned anything from my time in the military, it’s that ‘weak’ and ‘strong’ are meaningless words in isolation. People can only reach their full potential when they have others lifting them up, whether they be a Human or Pokemon. I doubt Venlil are any different.”
Something flashes through my mind, a memory that Marcel's words invoked. Of course. One of the first pieces of Terran media I saw after First Contact; 'The Power of Us'. Felix nods along excitedly, jumping down from the Human's shoulder to be a bit closer to my level.
“Never call yourself weak again, alright? Marcel and I were already growing stronger with just the two of us, but now we have a brand-new friend? The three of us together will be unstoppable!”
Marcel snickers slightly.
“Not really the angle I was going for, but sure. Anyway, that packet of chips wasn't nearly enough. Like I said earlier, let’s go grab something from the cafeteria, alright?”
Seemingly immediately forgetting the previous topic, Felix’s eyes light up and his tails whir into action.
“Oh! I hope they have Wacan berries!”
As Felix rapidly ascends back up onto Marcel’s shoulder, my own tail begins to sway back and forth again. The predators’ kind words lifted my spirits and cast aside the embarrassment I had felt, spurring me to happily step forwards and follow the Human’s lead towards the station’s cafeteria.
As we made our way through the halls, I paid more attention to the various pairs and trios we passed. The Venlil all ranged from bubbling with excitement, a spring in their step as they walked joyfully beside their partners, to barely containing their fear, shaking slightly as they stuck close to the walls and avoided looking at most of the more predatory looking Pokemon. I wasn’t at either extreme, though I was leaning towards the former. I strode beside Marcel with contentment, mentally thanking my past self for signing up for the program. I was nervous to meet them at first, but it took almost no time at all for me to recognise the friends I had already been speaking to over text for whole herds of paws at this point.
When we reached the cafeteria, the place was already alive with many Terrans and Venlil. Some sat just with their exchange partners, while others gathered into larger herds, with the countless conversations happening between them melding together with the clinking of cutlery. Even out here on this station, with by far the strangest creatures in the Universe, the sound of people enjoying each other’s company was oh so familiar.
The three of us collected our meals and decided just to sit by ourselves, eventually finding a spot near a rather short Venlil sitting with a large, purple serpentine Pokemon that was presumably their partner. As Marcel and I set our meals down on the table, Felix quickly grabs a pastry from Marcel’s tray.
“I call dibs on the Wacan muffin!”
Marcel has selected some sort of soup for himself, while I chose a simple bunt leaf salad, although my serving seemed to have some sort of fruit in it that I didn’t recognise. I prodded the yellow chunks around, trying to determine if I had gotten some underripe juicefruit or something, catching Marcel’s attention.
“That’s Shuca berry. Not really my thing, but it’s decently popular.”
“Oh, it’s an Earth fruit?”
“Yep, looks like the kitchen’s experimenting with mixing cuisines. This soup is… surprisingly spicy.”
Looking up at the Human, I find that his face has turned a slight reddish hue, the flush no doubt signifying that he was struggling. A quick peek at the contents of his meal provides an answer, making me whistle slightly in laughter.
“Ah, that would be firefruit. Fitting name, isn’t it?”
“Fuck, you can say that again.”
As I watch my Human partner gulp down his glass of water, I pick up a few bunt leaves along with a small chunk of the Shuca berry and pop them in my mouth. The yellow fruit goes well with the bunt leaves, providing a mild but nice sweetness with the slightest kick of spice. Though, obviously not nearly as much as Marcel’s firefruit. The Human soon excuses himself to refill his water, Felix throwing a teasing quip his way between bites of the muffin.
“Fire Type doesn’t suit you, Marc!”
While trying to stifle my laughter at my friend’s misfortune, a slightly alarmed, raspy voice coming from my right catches my attention.
“Ssssevik, are you alright?”
Turning to my right, I find the large serpent Pokemon sitting nearby looking at her Venlil partner with concern. He is holding a paw over his stomach and groaning slightly.
“Y-yeah Arbok, I’m fi-fi -hurk-”
He gives a horrible sound somewhere between a burp and a retch, grabbing the attention of a few other people around us.
“Wassss it the berriesss?”
“N-no it’s -hurk- I think is the Pois- -hurk-“
Thinking quickly, one of the nearby Humans passes the Venlil a plastic bag. He accepts it and tries to thank them, only for his attempt to be interrupted by more retching. Just as he seems to lose control of his meal completely, he cries out.
“Gastro Acid!”
Instead of the typically yellowy green, the Venlil expels a thick, deep purple fluid into the bag. After a single powerful heave, the Venlil looks back up, seemingly slightly dizzy. A moment later, a sizzling sound can be heard coming from the bag, the bottom of which soon breaks. The acidic substance spills onto the floor, having corroded through the plastic like it was nothing. For a while, nobody makes a sound, nor barely moves. Venlil, Human and Pokemon alike in our little section of the cafeteria are all staring at the poor little Venlil who in turn has his eyes glued onto the now useless plastic bag. As for the purple acid, it soon fizzles away into nothing, leaving the floor spotless with no evidence that it ever existed.
The sound of approaching footsteps makes me turn around with a slight jump, finding Marcel returning with a new glass of water. His eyes dart first to the silent crowd, then to the small Venlil, then finally to me and Felix.
“Uh, did I miss something?”
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~~~~~~~

NoPokedex

Humans - Typeless
Gojid - Steel/Rock

• Sovlin: Metal Claw & Rollout

Venlil - Normal /Poison

• Kam: ??? & Poison Jab
• Slanek: ??? & ???

Arxur - Dragon/???

• Isif: Dragon Pulse & ???

Tilfish - Bug/Dark
Zurulian - ???/???
Farsul - ???/???
Kolshian - ???/???
Yotul - ???/???
Mazic - ???/???
Dossur - ???/???
Sivkit - ???/???
Krakotl - Flying/???
Harchen - ???/???
Duertan - Flying/???
Thafki - Wate???
Sulean - ???/???
Iftali - ???/???
Drezjin - Flying/???
Jaur - ???/???
Letian - ???/???
Leshee - ???/???
Yulpa - ???/???

Would like to start a journal on my progress since I am some what anxious to mess with my hormones. Had been on 1600 calorie diet, high on protein and enough fats, 200g/65g so this might play a bit into why I started so low but I am not too sure. Was on this diet about 3 weeks before checking testosterone and about 5 before checking the other levels. Los about 15-18 lbs and about 7-10% body fat. Lifting 5 times a week. 2hours bike cardio while playing video games and watching JJK. I am also doing 20mg daily clomid to keep my nuts working.
So 200mg test weekly with 20mg enclomid a day starting dosages.
Started enclomid at 12.5mg 4 days before testosterone injection and increased it to 20 day of first injection.
Plan on doing injections 1-2 month and then continue enclomid for 6month while titration it down to see if I can get to settle on a better level.
Test blood work taken about 3 weeks before 1st dose. Lh and FSH 1week before 1st dose.
5/14/2024 Age:32 Starting T: 252ng/Dl Starting LH: 3.8 mIU/ml [R 1.4 -18.1] Starting FSH: 2.1 mIU/ml [R 1.5 - 9.3] Starting Estradiol: 19.5 pg/mL Starting Weight: 195lbs, body fat 18-22%?
Abs Starting to show, shoulder and bicep veins. Shoulder and triceps visible and separate heads visible when flexing. Forarm veins Starting to pop out.
As an idiot I did do a cycle about 14 years ago when I was 19 I believe I used 300mg a week for 2 or 3 months? and clomid for pct for 6months? but I can't really recall exactly tbh.
Have had gyno since I was 13 but no lumps anymore mostly puffy might extra fat stored there forever. Never really gotten under 15% body fat. Would like to see if the enclomid has any effects on this. Also curious to see how my estradiol, fsh and lh levels handle both enclomid and testosterone at the same time. Planing to get levels check again in about 10-15 days to see how the markers are moving.
Hope this helps someone in or around the same position as me.
I had very bad depression and 0 motivation. I had to listed to alot of david goggins and jjk to get me through the first weeks of working out. Checked my levels out of curiosity. I also had a ankle injury sprain that did not heal for over a year and it's still bothering me from time to time so I want to see if this helps. Also have had herniated disc for about 6 years and would like to strengthen my core and muscle around vertebrae to help me keep a good posture and reduce strain on the disc. Plan on using bpc 157 as well in the future. I plan on getting off of hrt both enclomid and test becasue I might be able to settle on better levels once I am not on a caloric deficit anymore.

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Chapter 15: For What You’ve Tamed
“We’ve come a long way, Vikri. Let’s finish your story,” Rayner said as he sat down in the same chair, crossing his legs in the same way.; small consistencies that made the task of talking about my past seem a little more routine. “I understand you lost someone important to you that day.”
I shifted slightly where I sat. “Yeah,” I answered coarsely. I grabbed at the poncho hanging over my shoulders. I remembered what it felt like in my dreams. Radiant warmth always seemed to emanate from it. Not necessarily the poncho itself, but Tenga’s memory. I realized that as long as I had those, then he was still here in a way. I’d much rather have him here than his memory though.
Rayner nodded. “I know what that’s like,” he said in a near whisper.
I shook my head. “It’s not just that I lost him. I…I failed,” I rasped. “I could’ve saved him. Maybe if I’d gone back I could’ve gotten the equipment before the fire did. I was too afraid.”
Rayner nodded slowly. “And now you feel responsible.”
I remained silent as I clutched my tail on the couch beside me. Rayner already knew the answer. He pursed his lips. “Yeah…I know exactly how that feels.”
I looked up at him. For the first time, his eyes weren’t on me, but on the adjacent wall as he seemed to ponder something. “You think about all the things you could have done differently. Things that are so obvious in hindsight,” he sighed and adjusted his glasses. “If only it were that clear in the moment.” He looked up at me, clasping his hands together. “So walk me through what happened.”
I could still vividly remember the moment Tenga got shot. Everything happened in the blink of an eye. So quickly in fact, that it even took Tenga a moment to realize there was a hole in his torso. Minutes of continuous tension shattered with a hail of gunfire lasting less than a second. The echoes continued to howl through the mountains long after the bodies met the snow. My friend was fatally wounded, the snow around him dyed bright red with his blood. And I had to leave him.
The entire time I was in the belly of the federation destroyer with danger lurking around every corner, all I wanted to do was to get this done as quickly as possible and get back to him. I was enraged that they’d done this to him and to billions just like him.
“Tenga was all I thought about the entire time,” I croaked. “And I…I was willing to kill everyone onboard to get back to him, even if there was no way I ever could. I… did things I could never have imagined myself doing even just days ago. I tore a chunk out of my leg just to be able to get to the Krakotl pinning me down with a crowbar.” I inhaled deeply, staring down at my reflection in the water, recalling my bloodshot eyes in the reflection of the ship's monitor. The grimly colorful bloodstains in my fur from several different species.
Rayner nodded. “It was a desperate situation. Many don’t see themselves doing things like that until they’re put in a situation where it's necessary. A situation where it's do or die. No one can fault you for that, especially not with all that depended on you.”
“I guess I just…It’s just worrying knowing that there’s a part of me capable of that.”
The doctor tapped his pen on his notepad as he seemed to think for a moment. “Do you worry that you may have violent outbursts?”
I scoffed. “Well, the events of a few days ago provided good grounds for worry.”
Rayner nodded. “Aggression is common for PTSD victims. It can be difficult to manage intense emotions when your mind is already dealing with so much.
I shook my head. “That’s not the person I want to be.”
Rayner nodded. “I know Vikri. That’s why it's so crucial for you to talk about this stuff. The less all of this weighs on you, the better you’ll be able to control those emotions when they arise.”
He finished writing on his notepad before taking off his glasses and leaning forward slightly. “So what happened to Tenga?”
The question made my heart sink. My mind went quiet. The second hand of time sounded like the footsteps of a giant marching toward…something. My body seemed to go cold and numb. “He died…” I croaked, staring down at the table. That was the first time I’d admitted that to myself verbally in such a direct way. “And I tried so hard,” I choked, tears now streaming down my face. “I did everything in my power to save him. I even put Querek’s life in danger.”
I felt the heat. I could feel cold water dripping from my paws as the burning ship melted the frost accumulating in my fur. I remembered the terrifying hopelessness that gripped me as I gripped Querek and pushed him into the snow. He tried to sacrifice himself for Tenga. What if I had let him? Would it have even worked? Could Tenga accept that?
I recalled the story to Rayner, battling to keep my composure. “I…I watched him die,” I choked. “And I was furious. Reese had to pull me off of him. I wanted to do…something, anything, but…he told them not to bring him back. I think he…” I winced at the thought of him considering this. “I think he’d rather have died sacrificing himself over…going rabid.”
Silence perforated the room for what felt like several long minutes. Rayner sat with his legs crossed, his hand propped up against his mouth. He seemed to become lost in thought for a moment before speaking. “I know how that guilt feels,” he admitted quietly.
I looked at him, somewhat surprised. “You do?”
Rayner nodded, rubbing his hands together. “My son,” he said plainly, taking a long pause before he continued. “He and Jesse were very close as kids. Practically brothers.” He tapped on his clipboard with his pen. “I was…not so available in those days. I was a very different man than I am now. I was still in school. I was always busy, always stressed. I hadn't even considered becoming a therapist. I was deadset on becoming a neurosurgeon.” He scoffed at himself, his head gently shaking back and forth as his gaze grew distant. His delivery lacked that matter-of-fact candor I was so used to by now. He was much quieter; less animated. His eye contact was sporadic and he never stopped fidgeting with his pen. Everything about him seemed suddenly mired in an emotion that was difficult to read. That was when I saw everything we'd done over the past few days for what it really was. Rayner wasn't invincible. He never claimed to be. He was hurt; I could hear it in his voice. He wasn't a person reaching down into the mud and yanking me out by the nape of the neck. He was man covered in mud himself. He wasn't an untouchable hero. Merely a guide.
He continued as that realization struck me. “I loved him as much as a father could. But I was so busy that…well I wasn't there as much as I'd like to have been. That put a big strain on our relationship.” He removed his glasses and wiped the lenses a few times before he continued. “One night we got into an argument. He’d just gotten his license. He had an old beat-up car I'd bought him for his birthday,” he chuffed. “A teen’s first car is always…eccentric. Thought it was a great deal at the time.” He sighed and nodded slightly before continuing. “He left the house enraged, speeding down the road. After a few miles, he lost control, swerved off the road, and hit a tree head-on. The airbag never deployed. The car crumpled like a soda can.”
I stared at him, speechless as he concluded in a near-whisper. “He was declared dead at the scene.”
The room felt hollow for a few long seconds. I searched for a reply but couldn't fathom the right words to say. Fortunately, Rayner didn't stay silent for long. “Like you, I blamed myself for a long…long time.” He sighed. “And it nearly destroyed me.”
I stared at the floor, fidgeting with my tail. “How did you…overcome that?”
“Well it didn't happen overnight,” he replied, flashing a brief smile. “It takes time but, at some point, you have to carry on living. You have to continue loving.” His eyes creased slightly as he looked down at his own hands. “You have to keep loving,” he repeated in a low whisper.
Loud silence claimed the room again as his words sank in. He was right. It was either accept what happened or live like this forever. Looking at it that pragmatically, the choice seemed easy. Emotions are never so logical though. It wasn’t as if he relieved himself of that burden either, it was obvious he still carried it. It just…didn’t weigh as much now. Not because it got lighter, but because he got stronger. I eased into speaking again. “I…I'm sorry. About your son.”
Rayner nodded. “I'm sorry about your friend.”
We both stewed in silence for a minute before Rayner spoke up. “We’ll send you home today.”
“You…really think I’m ready?”
Rayner nodded slowly. “I think so. The medication seems to be working, you haven’t had any breakdowns since you’ve been here. You’ve gotten much better at discussing these things. I think you’re equipped to face this now.”
“...I’m afraid,” I croaked.
“Of what?” Rayner asked, leaning forward
“Of…seeing Lucky again. I'm doubting whether I even should. I was never prepared to be her master. I’m just a danger to her.”
“Vikri,” Rayner exhaled and leaned forward. “You made a mistake. We all do. But you have a responsibility to her. You should at least see her and face that mistake, or you’ll never have closure. What you decide after that is your choice, but I don’t think it’ll be as bad as you think.”
“I hope so,” I sighed.
Rayner clicked his pen and set his notepad aside. “We’ve made you some medication to take home, same stuff you've been taking. The plan is to keep lowering the dosage until you’re sleeping without it. We’ve made you some sheets with all the daily doses on them and when to take each one. It’s enough to last you two weeks, then once they’re out, you’ll come back here for another session, then if you need it, we’ll get you more and keep weaning you off them.”
He leaned forward, emphasizing his next words. “And I cannot recommend enough that you go to Jesse’s support group in between our meetings. Those will help you tremendously, I’m sure of it.”
I nodded. “I have his number. I’ll…I’ll give it a shot.”
“You won't regret it,” Rayner assured me. “Jesse was in the same chair as you not too long ago for similar reasons. He has knowledge from first-hand experience. I can vouch for him, he’s a great guy.” He inhaled. “Well, is there anything else Vikri? We won’t be seeing each other again for a while, so if there’s anything else, now’s the time to talk about it.”
I thought for a second. We’d covered almost everything. I’d never discussed those days in so much detail. It felt like being submerged in icy water. It was miserable at first, but over time it became easier, even comfortable. I’d relived so much pain over the last three days, but here at the end of the whole story, It felt less like a nightmare, and more like reality. “No, I don’t think so,” I finally replied.
“Then I’ll clear you to go home. Andrea is here, she’ll give you a ride, I’m sure. Here.” He reached over and handed me a small business card. “That has all my contact information on it. I’m usually here in my office until late at night, so feel free to call if you need anything. If the sedative gives you any issues at all, any side effects, make sure to call and let me know. We followed the recipe to a tee, but it’s wise to be cautious.”
A familiar silence flooded the room as Rayner and I seemed to, for the first time, have nothing left to say. Finally, the doctor spoke. “See you in two weeks, Vikri.”
///////////////////////////////
Golden strands of light danced between the digits of my paw as I moved it in front of the brilliant summer sun. An intense beacon of warmth floating in a sky as blue as Earth’s oceans. The rumble of Andy’s car occupied the air as we cruised down the highway. Vivri was sound asleep in the backseat. The gentle white noise and vibration seemed to knock her out cold. I watched the sunrays dance as I waved my paw in front of me, before turning it around. Several spots on my paw still had obvious scars. I even still had burn scars from the electrical systems aboard the crumbling Cardinal.
I curled my paw closed into a fist and rested my head against it, watching the lush, green mountains pass by in the distance. After three days I was set loose into the world once again, hopefully better armed than I was before. Even after all the weight I doffed from my shoulders in Rayner’s office, a crushing mass still rested on my chest. Lucky.
The weight only became heavier as the car slowed, and rounded a corner into the parking lot of a large animal hospital. Andy gently brought the car to a stop in a parking space in front of the entrance. Occasionally people would walk in and out with their pets, many of which were dogs on leashes.
Vivri stirred awake after we stopped. “Oh…We’re here,” she muttered nervously. “There’s…a lot more animals here than I was expecting.”
Andy chuckled. “It’s an animal hospital girl, there’s gonna be all kinds of critters here.”
I turned around to face her. “You don’t have to go in there. You and Andy can wait here.”
Andy scoffed. “You might wanna tell Rayner they screwed up those meds, ‘cause you’re delusional if you think I’m letting you go in there by yourself.”
“Well I don’t want her to be alone out here,” I argued.
“I’ll go in, just…stay close, please?” Vivri interjected.
I looked back at her, ears tilted. She was dead serious. I sighed and shook my head. “This is gonna be a disaster,” I groaned.
Andy opened her door. “I’ll wait with her in the lobby, you go talk to the vets. It’ll be fine.”
I looked back at Vivri one last time as Andy stepped out. “Alright, just stay away from the cats.” I opened my door and began stepping out into the summer air.
“C-cats?”
“Small felines. They're demons with mind control,” I replied just before closing the door.
Vivri scrambled out of the car and followed right on my heels. “Well don’t just leave me!” she squeaked.
I laughed. “I’m kidding. Well, mostly.”
Walking into the building, I realized that Lucky had been in a very similar place as me over the past three days. The lobby felt eerily similar to the one at the medical center. Everything went silent as Vivri and I walked in. Immediately I could feel dozens of eyes on us. Vivri hid close behind me as Andy gestured for me to follow her to the desk.
I doubted any of the humans there meant any harm, but dozens of binocular eyes snapping onto her in an instant had Vivri more unsettled than she already was. It didn’t help that several dogs were either on leashes or in carriers in the lobby, which were no doubt just as curious. I grabbed Viv’s paw. “They don't see many Venlil,” I whispered. “Just ignore them.”
I approached the desk with Vivri still hiding behind me. “E-excuse me?” I stuttered. The woman at the desk looked up, clearly caught off guard by two venlil standing before her. “O-oh! Excuse me, you must be Lucky’s owner, right?”
“Yeah. Vikri.” I could feel Vivri shivering behind me.
“I’ll let Doctor Gavin know you’re here.”
“Thanks,” I muttered before turning to Vivri. “Are you sure about this?” I whispered.
“Of course! It’s just for a few minutes, right?” Her body language gave an entirely different answer. She seemed like she might faint at any moment.
I looked up at Andy. “Keep her close, would you?”
Andy wrapped her arms over Viv’s shoulders. “Of course. I’ll keep little Vivi safe from all the big, bad puppy dogs and mean kitties,” she said in baby speak, twisting her side to side. She giggled. “We’ll be fine.” Her tone suddenly shifted as she locked eyes with me. “Will you?”
I stood there in silence for a moment. This entire time my heart felt unbearably heavy. Standing there, I felt nauseous. So much so that I made it a point to know exactly where the bathroom was when I walked in. The weight on my chest made breathing a laborious task. I heaved in a deep breath. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know what’s going to happen in there but…I have to do this. For both of us.”
Andy exhaled and nodded, seemingly just as nervous for me. Right on cue, the door at the back of the room opened with a heavy click. “Vikri?” a male voice called out. An older gentleman in burgundy scrubs surveyed the room. It didn’t take long for him to find me. He nodded toward me as he adjusted his glasses. “Right this way, please.”
“We’ll be right here,” Andy whispered, her hands still resting around Viv’s shoulders, who agreed with a tail flick.
I nodded and walked toward the man, leaving the cozy waiting room behind, and entering a long, sterile hallway. The doctor’s shoes clicked against the tile as he walked just in front of me. The weight bearing down on my chest only got heavier with each step. After a few agonizing seconds, the man finally spoke up as he stopped outside a door. “I’m Doctor Gavin,” he said breathily, extending a hand. “I performed Lucky’s surgery.”
I took his hand with my paw, which he could no doubt tell was trembling by this point. “Vikri,” I choked. “S-so…How is she?”
“She’s good,” Gavin answered in a higher pitch. “She’s recovering remarkably fast. Really lived up to her name.” He opened the door and stepped through into a kennel area as he continued. “The bullet hit one of her ribs and shattered. A couple of fragments pierced her lung, one of them was just inches from her heart. There’re still a few very small ones lodged in her tissue, but we’d be doing more harm than good by trying to remove them. They shouldn’t cause any issues and come out on their own after some time, but we’ll keep track of them with x-rays.”
As he spoke we passed by kennels, some empty, some with dogs that barked or jumped up on the cage as we passed. I scoured each one for Lucky, my dread building with each one we passed. Suddenly, the doctor stopped in front of me. He inhaled deeply. “I should mention…Given the…circumstances of how she got these injuries, me and some staff will stay with you just in case she becomes aggressive. That’s not to say that I think she will,” he added hastily, “she’s been great with everyone here but…you know, just to be safe.”
“I get it,” I breathed. It made sense. If Lucky attacked me, it would be far more deadly than it would be for a human. And I was confident even a human wouldn’t last long against a half-wolf her size. Fittingly, a group of four humans were gathered at the end of the hallway, catchers in hand.
Time seemed to slow as I approached the pen. The staff members all looked over at me with the same anxious expression. I felt like a prisoner walking toward my judgment, and that perhaps it was me that belonged behind these cages. I swallowed and took a long, slow breath as Gavin opened the gate. He walked in ahead of me. “Hey there big girl,” he said in a chipper tone. I heard the familiar thumping of Lucky’s tail against the floor. Gavin chuckled to himself as the remaining four staff calmly and quietly filed into the pen. Once they were all inside, the final human leaned around the corner, looked me in the eyes for a long second, and nodded once.
A new reality awaited around that corner. My sentence was about to be read. It felt so cripplingly helpless; wanting so desperately to finally be reunited with my best friend, yet trembling at the thought of rounding a corner to run face-first into the consequences of my actions. I steeled myself one last time. I nodded back at the catcher and took slow, deliberate steps toward him. I finally rounded the corner, and for the first time since the incident, I saw Lucky.
She lay on a large, fabric bed, with food and water bowls close by. Her right front leg was bound in a cast, tied up close to her body. A large patch of fur had been shaved away around her chest and halfway up her neck. She seemed thinner than I remembered. It reminded me of the scared, hungry pup I’d met so long ago.
Her eyes tracked onto mine instantly, and I felt an ache that defied all imagination. The same gaze that would send almost any other Venlil scrambling down the hallway instead gripped some inner part of me in a cold, numb stasis. I couldn’t move. Part of me wanted to run to her and spill out how sorry I was. Another wanted to curl up on the floor right there and sob, returning to that familiar numbness that seemed akin to the ancient enemy of life itself. The cold. That bitterness that pierced through fur, through flesh, through bones, and any ideal held by the naive child that sat next to Tenga’s corpse that day. It ran through until there was nothing left.
Then, I felt a warmth as if someone had draped a blanket over me. I gripped my poncho around my shoulders, grabbing it tightly. I made a quiet promise to myself there and then. Not a promise to my sister, or my parents, or Andrea. Me. I wouldn’t lie down in the cold. Never again. One more hill.
“Hey Lucky,” I said, my voice coarse and breaking every syllable.
The silence was abruptly broken as Lucky, though seemingly frail, shot to her feet. Everyone in the room shifted, prepared for the worst. I didn’t dare move, but I could feel my heart pounding in my legs, my body preparing to bolt. The staff watched her carefully, their grip slightly tightened around their polls. Lucky made no sounds, only stared at me, her nostrils flaring as she gathered my scent. Her right front leg was useless, immobilized against her body. She shifted her footing to steady herself. Then I saw something that replaced fear with tears. She was shaking like a leaf, never taking her eyes off me. She could care less about the others. She was scared. Of me.
I felt myself fall off a ledge in a sensation I’d become all too familiar with over the last few weeks. Tears streamed down my face, my breath hitching as I brought my paws up to my face. I fell to my knees, the presence of the staff had become irrelevant. “I’m…I’m sorry,” I exhaled between gasps. “I’m so sorry.”
So there it was. My new reality. It wasn’t what I’d hoped for, but it was what I expected. I didn’t know what I’d do then, and I didn’t know now. Could I go on without Lucky? She was the one fortress in the turbulent seas of my broken mind. She was the one I could always count on. The one that I knew would always be there, no matter what. Now I was convinced she was terrified of me.
I sat there a shattered mess for a long moment, tumbling off that cliff and reaching out for anything to catch myself, but found nothing but jagged stones. I felt a hand on my shoulder, Doctor Gavin attempting to comfort me, I assumed. Until I felt something touch my knee. I looked up, thrown out of the spiral abruptly. Lucky was now just in front of me, licking my leg. I froze, confused. She gently laid down, careful of her bandaged leg as she rested her head on my leg, looking up at me. That was the same leg she’d broken months ago. Finally, I got it. “I hurt you, and you still loved me.”
A wave of relief rushed through me and I looked down at her, eyes glossy with tears. I bent down and rested my head against hers. I laughed, though it sounded more like a sob. For the first time in days, I felt whole again.
Lucky still loved me.
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Hi, I've been a Corki main since S10, and I've held a ~62% winrate in over 400 games over that time period. I'm writing this post because Corki is about to get reworked and while the rework isn't absolutely horrible, the issue with Corki in pro play is misdiagnosed. TLDR: the issue with Corki in pro is not and has never been because of package. It is solely because of the AP Poke Corki build.
History:
On patch 5.22, Corki was reworked to add Package on his passive (on a 300 second cooldown). On patch 6.15, the package cooldown was reduced to 240s, and then stayed in the same form for ~6 years until 12.3, when it nerfed back to a 300s cooldown and a 2 minute delayed spawn.
Corki has been a on and off pick in pro play for the last few years now. From S6-S11, he was meta from time to time, hitting up 28% presence in S6 (combined mid+adc), S7, and S9, but being mostly unpicked S8, S10, and S11. During this same period of time, he was always a strong solo queue pick, usually hovering between 52% and 56% winrate mid, but with a low pick rate, and always built AD. In season 12, the AP Poke Corki build (Ludens + Tiamat + First Strike) was discovered in pro play, and was quickly picked up by solo queue players. His solo queue winrate dropped spectacularly to hover around 47%, but he was still decent with the AD build in solo queue. AP Corki was nerfed in patch 12.13, and disappeared from pro play (while also being relatively weak in solo queue) until S14. In S14, the newly released items led to another AP Malignance + Eclipse build, which once again terrorized pro play, and Corki was hit with more package nerfs.
Sources: Corki Patch History and Corki pro play presence
On AP Poke Corki:
It's way better in coordinated play than solo queue and has been for years, it's always ~4-5% lower winrate in solo queue. When the AP Corki build first started being played in pro, his winrate crashed in solo queue. The reason the playstyle is good in pro is because you actually get proper setup before teamfights at drakes and stuff, while in solo queue you have to be ready to fight whenever. Teams also won't wait for you to poke, or even play around package, even in high diamond. Imo package also doesn't synergize well with poke Corki, because once you use it, you can't poke anymore, and you're usually in an awful position. This is more fine on AD Corki because you can usually nuke their mid/adc and trade when you go in, but on poke, dueling power sucks so you lose more often/get run down. Also, if you dont land rockets on the backline, you're basically useless, since you can't really deal with tanks. If you land your rockets on AP Corki, you deal ridiculous amounts of damage from really far, and can instantly win a teamfight for your team.
Regarding package:
Honestly, I'm relatively sympathetic to the idea that package is slightly unhealthy for the game, simply because of how powerful it is, so I understand it's removal. You can int the entire game on Corki, and have one good package, and instantly win. I'd love to hear if any pros have talked about this, but I believe that pro players have been using package incorrectly until recently. You want to use it across their entire team (often suiciding into their backline), and then using W/Flash to get away because everyone you hit is chunked hard. In the last few months, I've seen some Corkis (especially Faker and Chovy) use package this way, with a lot of success. Package is a really difficult ability to use well, because you are locked in and unstoppable as soon as you use it, and if you barely miss someone, or knock them the wrong way, it's the difference between instantly popping a carry, and them instantly popping you. I believe that ASol's transformed ult (Skies Descend) is much more unhealthy for similar reasons. However, package is not the reason why Corki is obnoxious in pro play, as he was a perfectly fine pick in pro play for 6 years, before AP Corki even existed. There will multiple years where he had the same package, but was rarely picked in pro, even while being a very strong solo queue pick.
Regarding the rework:
I believe that the R changes are quite good, and make a lot of sense to force Corki to attack to get rockets, rather than poking at 1300 range, although 4 ammo might be too few. I'm relatively neutral towards his change to physical damage. It should remove the ability to build Malignance/Ludens, which I believe are the core problem with Corki in competitive. However, the removal of package is unnecessary to Corki's ability to be a healthy solo queue and competitive pick, and removes one of the big differentiaters of skill on Corki. I'm guessing that Corki will be slightly stronger than before, but still relatively weak compared to other champions, and I hope Riot don't forget about him after the rework.
TLDR: AP Poke Corki bad (for pro play and solo queue and overall game health), package good (has not historically been the issue with Corki, and good skill expression)

TW: Alcoholism, drug addiction, violence, suicidal ideation, sex abuse
This is going to be a LLLLLOOONNNNGGGGG one. This story goes back quite a way, but yesterday was the tenth anniversary of the ending to this story and I'm feeling it, still got some guilt about everything that happened, wondering what I could have done differently and I just want to vent it out and hope to get some closure from it.
This story started in 2010.
Characters in this story (names are fake, duh!):

• Me, Guy, 32M at the time, 45 now.
• My BFF Stephanie, 33F at the time.
• Stephen, 40M at the time, Stephanie's boyfriend.
• Maryse, 27F at the time.

Background and intro
I had known Stephanie for many years and we had the kind of friendship that made her BFs and my GFs uncomfortable to put it lightly. We had never crossed that boundary and I wouldn't consider us in the friendzone, we were just friend, but the kind of friend where she would sit on my lap with her arms around my neck or her head on my shoulder.
At the start of 2010, Stephanie met her then boyfriend, Stephen. He tolerated me and my friendship with Stephanie because I also had a gf back then. She liked Stephanie, wasn't at all jealous of my friendship with her, so he didn't deem me too suspicious. Then my gf and I broke up for reasons unimportant and all hell broke loose for Stephen. He became convinced that I would try and steal Stephanie from him. He insisted that Stephanie introduce me to her female friends or female friends of his. Thus began what I called the year of the 50 blind dates. It was probably closer to 20, but still I like saying the year of 50 blind dates. Most of them were unremarkable and never went beyond the first date. There are some fun stories in there if anyone wants to hear them eventually!
In July of that year, I had to switch gears because I had to focus up and study for a professional exam for a certification important to my career. This exam required close to 600-800 hours of study over a 3-4 month period. So I hunkered down, told Stephanie to stop the blind dates for now because I had to focus on that. She respected my wishes and, other a text here or there, we went low contact for the last two months before the exam.
Except for one fateful night in September. Her birthday was in September and she always threw these big bashes at her house. She would throw a big pool party that started around noon and would go on to the wee hours of the morning. I knew she would harass me to go to her party, so I made some quick math and figured I would lose more energy and time trying to dodge her calls, texts and most likely visits at my place than by just going to the party itself. So when she called me to ask, I just said: "Okay I'll go to your damn party, now git." I texted her I would get there in the evening probably around 8. She texted back "Great, can't wait. Now study, bitch!"
So I ultimately get there around 8PM. Basically everybody is already drunk off their gourd. Stephanie sees me, squeals in excitement and runs to me in her bikini and just jumps in the air and slams into me, wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist and gives me a big hug. I hug her back and just keep walking back to the pool where she had started, carrying her with me. I just duck my head around hers and say hi to Stephen, who just glares at me.
She drops back down and I give her her gift. We chat for a few seconds and says "There's beer in the fridge and food in the dining room." I told her I'd be right back.
I go inside and grab a beer from the fridge. I head to the dining room and the table is against the wall with a buffet of sandwiches, tomato pizza, salads, etc. I grab a plate and start putting food on it. I was focused on the task because I was starving. I barely noticed, sitting at the end of the table one of the most stunning woman I have ever seen. I just see her in my peripheral vision and I do a quick double take, quick glance at her and back to the food. I do that a second time. And finally a third time. At that point she is just straight up staring at me and I can't help but chuckle and whisper under my breath "Subtle Guy, sub-tle".
Thankfully she starts laughing too, saving me some embarassment. I look at her and greet her. She says "Hi, I'm Maryse and I'm guessing you're Guy?" I just nod and we start talking. At that point, I just thought I have no shot with her, she's so far out of my league that I'm just gonna talk to her until she sees one of the "models" hanging out by the pool and ditches me for him.
So I'm not feeling like I'm playing for anything, so I'm just myself and not nervous, just talking to her as I would any friend. We chat and she laughs at all my jokes, she gets all my cultural references. She never gets up or ditches me. The plate of food I had made and the beer I had gotten are sitting on the table next to me untouched, I was too busy with the convo to think about food or beer anymore.
After what felt like only 20-30 minutes, Stephanie comes in and tells me, fake grumpy: "So that's where you disappeared to. I invite my best friend to a party and he spends the whole night talking to someone else." I laugh and go: "What do you mean the whole night? I haven't been here that long." She says "Dude, it's 2AM. You've been here for 6 hours..." My jaw dropped and I just said: "Wow, time flies when you're having fun." Maryse chimes in, with a big smile: "It sure does!" That made me happy as you can imagine.
Now I was a little stuck because where Stephanie lived, there's no night service for the bus and the subway had been closed for an hour or so. I figured I would cab it. So I turn to Maryse and tell her: "It was absolutely lovely to meet you and I enjoyed our conversation very much." She says that she did too. I continued with "At the moment, my schedule is incredibly hectic. I'm basically working full-time, studying full-time and sleeping part-time. So I don't have a lot of free time, but if she was interested, whatever little free time I had, I would love to call her or text her to keep on getting to know her."
I see Stephanie in the backgroudnd, looking like a proud mama at how smooth that came out, knowing I was always anything but smooth with women, as proven by the string of blind dates! Maryse has a big smile and we exchange numbers. I go to Stephanie to wish her a happy birthday again. While I'm talking to her, my phone buzzes with a text from Maryse: "Just checking!"
I asked Stephanie "What's the best cab company to call in this area?" Maryse chimes in: "Where do you live?" I tell her where I lived and she goes "It's on the way to where I live, I can give you a ride if you want." Stephanie raised an eyebrow in surprise. I learned later, she did it because it absolutely was not on the way to her place, like, at all. I say that I would love that as it would give us a chance to keep talking.
We get in her car, driving to my place. We talk, she asks me what I'm studying as I hadn't mentioned it earlier. I tell her all about the boring maths I had to study. Much too quickly, we get to my place. She parks in front of my building and we keep talking. At some point, I tell her: "Normally, this is where I would try to "trick" you into coming up to my place..." She interrupts me: "You wouldn't need to trick me. I'm willing and able!"
I tell her that "As tempting as that sounds, I know who I am and I know that if you come up and things proceed to where they're going, I'm not going to be able to study for the rest of the month. I have a kind of obsessive mind and when I find someone or something I like, I can push everything else to the side in favor of that. So to make sure I can still focus on my studying, I have to go up by myself."
She looks at me, a little disappointed but then says, half-jokingly: "We don't have to go up, there's a backseat right there!" We laugh and I give her a kiss and wish her a good night. I managed to stay strong and go back to my condo. Damn it, why did I have to stay strong!!!
My exam was at the beginning of november. During the month of october, we texted a bunch of times and talked on the phone. We went for coffee a couple of times and dinner once. She respected my boundaries and never pushed for more, which I appreciated but also hated at the same time, if that makes sense. The exam came and it was a monster of a Friday. I slept for basically 18 hours after the exam as the adrenalin dropped and my system crashed.
I texted her when I woke up at around 1PM. She was working at the clothing store Stephanie owned. She said "I'm off at 5PM, wanna meet me." I said: "Duh! Why do you think I'm texting? ;)" So I met her at the store downtown. I asked if she wanted to grab a drink, go for dinner, or what. She proposed going to her place and getting some take out. Stephanie who was closing the store at that moment, came up to us and said: "Hey, so what are we doing?" I said: "WE, that is Maryse and I, are going to her place and getting some takeout. Bye!" I'm sure you'll understand when I tell you that no food was ever ordered that night!
Thus followed a whirlwind month of November where any free time we had was spent together, and I wasn't going to complain!
The troubles
By the start of december, things were still going great with us. One saturday night, we were having dinner at a restaurant and I mention that this coming Friday is my office Christmas party, that it's employees only, so we wouln't see each other that night. She tells me: "Oh sure, that's fine! It'll give me a chance to go see some girlfriends I've been neglecting lately." I said "Great! BTW I also got us a reservation at [this great restaurant she had mentioned a few times] for next Saturday, so we could go there and I'll tell you all about my party and you can tell me all about her night with the girls!"
That was settled, I thought. I was wrong. On Thursday, we had spent the evening together at her place and I was about to leave to go back to my place. She tells me: "So are you coming to meet me at the store tomorrow or do I go to your place?" I reminded her: "Neither, tomorrow is my office Christmas party and we won't see each other tomorrow." She said: "Oh right, I forgot." I asked her if she had made plans with her friends like she had mentioned last saturday. She said that they were all busy tomorrow and weren't available.
She suggested "If your party is boring, maybe you could come meet me." I retorted that it wasn't going to be, knowing who was going to be there.
"Yeah but what if?"
"But it won't"
"But what IFFFFFF?" she kept insisting and I kept saying no. After what felt like 30 minutes of that (probably only 2-3 minutes in reality), I had enough and just said to end the argument: "Okay, if it's boring, I'll come. but it won't be." She said: "Cool" with a big smile on her face. I came to learn that that smile meant "Challenge accepted".
The following night, my colleague and I were pregaming in a conference room before leaving for the party proper and my phone buzzes. Maryse was wishing me a good party. I replied. She texted me again. I replied. She texted again, but I was in a conversation with a colleague so I didn't reply or even look at the phone. My phone buzzes again. Still talking, and didn't want to be rude to my colleague. Another buzz. I just kept talking. Phone buzzes differently, she was now calling because I hadn't answered her texts.
"Why aren't you replying to my texts?"
"Hey, sorry, was talking to my colleague Patrick."
"What? you don't want to talk to me?"
"I am talking to you now."
"Why didn't you reply to my texts?"
"Because it would have been rude to my colleague to pull my phone out while talking to him."
"But you're talking to me now."
"Because I thought something was wrong, maybe it was an emergency."
"I wanted to talk to you, that's all."
"Well, gotta go back to the party. Talk to you later."
She kept texting and if I didn't reply right away, she would call after two or three missed texts. After about 2 hours of this, I stopped answering the texts. When she called back, I asked her: "Aren't you supposed to be working?" which started another round of guilt-tripping of "why are you asking me this? you don't want to talk to me?" At that point I had had enough and wanted to enjoy my party. I remembered that the Blackberry (no shaming old tech!) I had had an annoying feature, but I was hoping to put it to good use at that moment.
Whenever the battery would get really low, like less than 1%, it would let out an ear-piercing BEEP for about 3 seconds, reminiding you to charge it and giving you a heart attack all at the same time. It would do that even when you were in silent mode. It had happened a few days earlier when I was with Maryse. I figured, if I press a button on the Blackberry, it would make a beep too that could be heard through the phone. So while I was talking to Maryse, I pressed my thumb on the space bar for a good 3 seconds and sputtered; "what... the .... what?" trying to put on a somewhat believable performance.
She asked what that noise was and I tell her that it was my blackberry letting me know I was low battery and it might shut off any second. I told her "Listen I'm gonna wish you a good night, I'm having a good time at my party so I'll see you tomorrow at 5PM to go spend our evening together. I hope you have a good....." and hung up mid-sentence. I promptly shut my phone off and went back to the party. I concede that I may be a bit of an AH for that move.
The party was great, I got drunk much quicker than I expected owing to the fact that I hadn't had a drink in over two months because Maryse didn't drink so I didn't either when we were together, and we were always together. At 1AM, I went home and passed out on my bed.
This is another place where I may have been an AH. I didn't turn my cell phone back on and I unplugged my home line too, because I wanted to sleep the deep sleep of the drunkard. I woke up at around 1:30 PM, not knowing it was already too late. In my mind, I was meeting Maryse at 5PM to go out on the town that night. Maryse had other ideas as you'll see.
So like I said, I woke up at 1:30PM and was sticky with alcohol sweat, so I went straight for the shower to get clean again. While in the shower, my stomach grumbled with hunger and I started daydreaming of bacon and eggs. That pushed me out of the shower right quick. I dried myself off quickly, tied the towel around my waist and went to the fridge. No bacon.... booo. Looked at the egg compartment... no eggs... booo again. Okay then, how about a cream cheese bagel. No cream cheese, damn it. Look in the pantry, no bagels.... god. I was starting to get angry. Okay, cereals then. I pick up the cereal box, that mofo was empty and I get mad: "who's the idiot who puts the empty box back in the pantry?" I remembered I live alone.
I close the fridge dejected and see the grocery list stuck on the fridge, taunting me with everything I wanted to eat for breakfast written on it. But I felt like if I went to the grocery store hungry as I Was, I'm just gonna pay 600$ and not get one single healthy thing to eat. I then remembered there's a restaurant next to the grocery store that serves breakfast until 3PM. I get excited! I get dressed quickly, grab my wallet and keys, put my boots on, my coat on, wrap my scarf, my tuque and my gloves and go to the restaurant. If you notice, I didn't mention my phone in there.
I get to the restaurant and confirm that they still have breakfast and get even more excited when she confirms it. I order the "heart attack", at least that's how I nicknamed it: 3 eggs, 3 servings of bacon, 2 sausages, and, I guess to give one peace of mind, fruit (or to be precise, one single solitary slice of orange). Now that the food is ordered and coming I figured I would check if I have any messages. I pat the pocket where my phone always is. No phone. uh-oh. I start clutching evert pocket, no luck.
I wonder if I should go back home after the meal before going to the grocery store and decide against it, it would be too long a detour. So I scarf my breakfast down, rush through the grocery store. I get home and set my bags down in front of the fridge. I go pick up my blackberry. I turn it back on. The little tape icon tells me there are messages on my voicemail, at that time there were no red dots with a number in it to tell you how many.
I connect to the voicemail while starting to put the groceries away. The little automated voice tells me "You have 25 new messages." I pull the phone away from my ear, look at it in disbelief as if saying: "are you f'ing kidding me?" So I press 1 to start playing the messages.
Remember: Maryse knew I was at a party with a dead phone, no chargers and I probably wouldn't get home until 1AM. From 6:30PM, when my phone died, to 11:34 PM, when she went to sleep she left me 9 messages. BTW I know she went to sleep at 11:34PM because she left me a message saying "it's 11:34PM and I'm going to bed. Thinking of you." The 9 messages were in the same vein. These are the salient details, but the messages were all much longer.
She woke up at 7:15 the following day, I'll let you guess how I know that tidbit of information! She left me 5 more messages like those from the day before: 7:15 woke up. 7:35 going to take a shower. 7:55 out of the shower. 8:25 getting ready to leave for work 8:50 walking out of the subway to go to the store.
She leaves me another message at 9 that was different. She sounded very excited as if she had had the best idea in the world: "Hey it's 9AM, I'm about to start my shift. I know we're only supposed to meet after my shift, but what if you came and met me for lunch so you could tell me all about your party." I just did my best Scooby-Doo "Ruh-Roh" and chuckled that I blew that, not thinking the calamity that was awaiting me.
Another couple of messages to talk logistics: "I could take my lunch at 12 or 12:30, let me know which you prefer." "I'm taking my lunch at 12:30"
A slightly worried message: "It's 11:15 and you stil have not said if you were coming or not, are you okay?"
The first bomb goes off and I knew I was in trouble then: "Where are you? We're supposed to meet for lunch and you still haven't given me any sign of life, you're not answering your home phone either, what happened?" Reminder: we were not supposed to meet for lunch, she suggested doing so a couple of hours earlier and I never agreed to anything. I guess she told her colleagues I would meet her for lunch and it was now fact and could perhaps make her look bad in front of her colleagues.
The second bomb drops: "It's almost noon now, WHERE ARE YOU? Stephanie says you're probably sleeping off your drunk, but I don't believe her. I'm sure you got yourself a slut and cheated on me. Didn't you? didn't you, you asshole." Stephanie knows me very well, but that wasn't enough for Maryse it seems.
Ensued four more messages from 12:30 to 1:15, where she starts sounding more and more drunk and accusatory, spewing more attacks like in the message above. At that point I already knew it was over, there was no coming back from that. I can understand having trust issues, but that was nuclear. I don't tolerate jealousy because of horrible experiences with a couple of jealous toxic exes.
A final message comes in, and it's a different voice, that of my best friend being more than a little angry: "Hey Guy, listen, Maryse tells me you had a Christmas party yesterday, so I'm guessing you're sleeping off your drunk, still. But call me when you get this. I put Maryse, who's f'ing drunk, in the backstore so she can dry off and "do inventory". She can't be on the sales floor obviously and I just don't feel safe sending her home in the state she's in. Call me to tell me how you want to handle this."
At that point I had finished putting away my groceries and had put my boots and my coat on and was making my way to the subway to go to the store. I call Stephanie and tell her I got the messages and I was coming. She was right, I was sleeping off my drunk and had just woke up (didn't feel the need to mention the breakfast and grocery store). I ask her if she knows what I'm gonna do when I get there. She says that she knows and understands. She knows my bad history.
When I get out of the subway, I call her again before getting to the store. I ask her how she wants me to do this. It's her store and I don't want to create drama in front of her customers. Does she want me to wait outside and she tells Maryse to meet me in the street or do I go in the store and she takes me to the backstore and I do it there? She says to come to the store.
I walk in the store and every saleswomen on the floor looks at me and gives me the biggest case of the stink-eye. They only have Maryse's side of the story, so they think I did all these horrible things. I see Stephanie in the middle of the store and I walk towards her. She shakes her head and points me towards the cash register. I look over there and see Julia, a salesperson that I've known for a couple of years and really like, who also happens to be the biggest gossip in the store. I understand what Stephanie is trying to do. She's gonna make me tell her my story in front of Julia so Julia can spread the "good news" to the other employees and rehabilitate my name possibly.
So I get to the register and say Hi to Julia. She barely acknoledges me. Steph joins me. She asks me:
"How are you?"
"I was better an hour ago, before I listened to those voicemails. I had gone to our office party last night, had a great night, got drunk off my ass, got home at around 2 and woke up around 2."
Julia asks "Maryse told us you were supposed to meet her for lunch."
"No we weren't. I have a reservation for tonight at XYZ restaurant. I was supposed to take the day to do errands, stuff around the condo and meet her here at closing time. She suggested that it could be fun if I came at lunchtime to meet her, but that was never the plan."
Julia asks again "But why didn't you answer your phone?"
"It ran out of battery last night during the party and when I got home, I was so drunk that I forgot to plug it back in. I only plugged it when I woke up at 2. That's when the messages came in."
Julia asks "She says she tried calling your home line and you didn't answer and your machine didn't kick in."
"Yeah, that one's my fault, I knew I wanted to sleep and telemarketers have a habit of calling me early saturday mornings so I didn't want to be awoken by a call for a rug cleaning service, so I unplugged it yesterday morning, knowing I would be drunk when I got home and forget and be angry if I was awakened by a telemarketer."
Julia gave me a hint of a smile, showing me she was starting to believe me. She asked me a few more questions and then she asked what I was gonna do. I told her that whatever I'll do, I would tell Maryse first.
I looked at Stephanie and said: "Can you open the back store so I can go see her?" So we went to the backstore. As we reached the door, it swung opened and out popped Maryse, looking absolutely terrifying, I actually jumped back when I saw her. Her usual perfect makeup was completely smeared, her mascara streaking down her cheeks from the crying. Her hair was disheveled. She was a mess. Apparently, she had had enough of waiting back there and was planning on leaving the store to go home and had put her coat and boots on.
When she saw me, she went into an unhinged rant about me being an asshole for cheating on her, me not being great in bed, me not treating her right, etc. I let her vent everything she had to say, I looked at Stephanie and apologized for creating such a scene in her store. I tell Maryse we should go outside and talk in private. She keeps on yelling, but when I grab her hand to lead her outside, she follows.
When we get outside, her anger had started to wane a little, or maybe just her energy. I was able to talk to her to explain everything, how I had gotten drunk, had overslept (alone) and woke up at 2PM. I reminded her that we were only supposed to meet at 5PM not for lunch. The anger was leaving her and a smile almost appeared on her face. Through all of this I was being very calm and patient with her, which she interpreted as me not being mad at her. I then said in a firmer tone: "However..." and let it hang for a second.
The beginning smile vanished. I continued: "When you accused me of cheating on you, that broke me. That triggered memories of toxic exes who would always accuse me of cheating, not trusting me when I would tell them where I was, snooping on me, stalking me. Because of those experiences, I have a zero tolerance policy for jealousy. I told her that if she was behaving like after only two months of dating, it didn't bode well for the future and I have to protect myself."
At that, the tears started again and she just turned and ran/waddled away. I told her to wait, but she didn't hear me. I turned towards the entrance of the store to see basically all the employees and customers milling around the door trying to catch the drama. I went back inside to talk to my best friend. The mood had definitely changed and no one was giving me the stink eye anymore, but I didn't really care. I was just sad that it had ended, but proud of myself for having stood up for myself.
So AITA for getting drunk and keeping my phone turned off?
There is a lot more to this story and if you want to learn what happened afterwards, then read on.
The immediate aftermath
So I went back inside the store and talked to Stephanie. I told her that I had a reserrvation for XX restaurant and if she wanted to go with Stephen, she could take it, I wasn't in the mood for a dinner. She said "I already have plans for tonight, but thanks for offering." Julia said she would go with me if I wanted, but I just said that I wasn't in the mood to go out. I just wanted to crash and eat a pizza and get into a food coma.
Stephanie said she didn't feel comfortable leaving me by myself and I should join them at her house. They were having friends over to play board games and it could at least distract me a little. I said why not. So brimming with enthusiasm, I went to play bored games. I left early as I wasn't in the mood. I was feeling a little better, but still a bit down. I thanked Stephanie for the invite and left. I got home and just passed out on the bed.
I woke up at around 7AM the next morning and I saw along the corners of the window the tell-tale signs of a snow-drift and got excited as it was the first snow of the season. I pushed the curtains aside and looked on to see a beautiful white carpet outside. It was early enough that very few cars had marred the whiteness. I was admiring it when I noticed that, against the red bricks of the building across the street, there was a pink blotch. As I focused, the blotch became human shaped and I cleared my eyes enough to realize that it was Maryse and she was raising her cell phone to her ear.
On cue, my phone rings. I pick it up. Still sounding drunk, she asks me if we can speak. I ask her to give me five minutes to get dressed and I'll meet her down there. She asks why she can't come up. I say that I'm not sure I want her in my apartment. She says that it's cold out. I say: "Good, then this will be quick."
I get dressed and meet her outside. I'm still bleary-eyed from having woken up 5 minutes ago, but I try to get my wits together. I tell her that we're going to walk to the subway. It 's a 10-minute walk normally, but with her drunkenness, it might take 15-20 minutes. That's how long she has to tell me what she wants to tell me.
She wants to apologize for accusing me of cheating on her. She says she knows I'm a great guy and... I may be the A-hole at this point too, but I start to drift off in my little bubble and start daydreaming about, if I go back to bed, would there still be some residual heat or would it be cold? I could take a hot shower and warm the bed that way. I could still hear her in the background making excuses, saying how she had been cheated on, but I wasn't really listening.
During the daydreaming I notice it got quite quiet. I look on my left and she's not there, I turn around she's a good 5-6 steps behind me looking angry and she says: "you're not listening" I just say: "when you're right, you're right." I tell her that I understand she's been hurt too in the past, and I hope she can work to resolve her issues, but I was done and I'm going back to bed. I was a bit harsh there, but I was tired and still down.
I walk past her and get maybe 10 paces past her when I hear a scream coming from her. I turn around and I see her messing with something inside her coat. She pulls out a chef's knife with like an 8-inch blade. That wakes me the fuck up. Byebye bleary eyes, hello wakefulness. better than a cup of coffee or a red bull I tell you!
So she's got the knife, she's screaming something that I can't quite understand. She gets quiet and then she charges at me with the knife. If I'm being honest I could have stayed where I was and she probably would have missed me anyways, but someone charges at me with a knife, I'm gonna nope out of there. I take a massive side step and once she gets to where I was and realizes that I'm no longer there, she turns her head towards me and says heyyyyy.
At that point, I have a moment of clarity and see what's gonna happen. She's drunk running one way and looking another, I know she's gonna trip. As I predicted, she stumbled over her feet and starts falling to the ground. I start praying to god and anybody who would listen: "Please don't let her cut herself. I don't want to have to explain this to the doctors, EMTs and nurses. I don't want her drunk ass deciding to take revenge on me by saying I did it."
Thankfully, she winds up in a sitting position on the sidewalk holding the knife up and it was clean. Thank god for small miracles. She starts crying and, other moment of clarity, I know she's gonna turn the knife on herself now. I jump towards her and I realize I was right, the knife starts moving towards her left wrist. I tackle her, grab her right wrist and twist it so she drops the knife. I pick the knife back up and put it in my pocket. She looks at me crying and says: "Why did you stop me?"
I pick her up and take her back to my building. In my building there was a couch in the lobby, so I take her there and I sit her down and plop myself next to her. I look at her and wonder out loud: "What am I gonna do with you? What can I do?"
She goes: "Just let me go, I'll be good." I tell her that's not going to happen. I realize I have three options and I give her the three options.
"So here's the choice I give you.
1- I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted murder back there and they send the police to arrest you. I don't want to do that because that could derail your life and not get you the help you need. Besides, they might not do anything anyway as it's your word against mine.
2= I pull out my phone, call 911 and tell them about the attempted suicide back there and that you need to be placed on a 72 hour hold. I could do that, but at the same time, again it's my word against yours, so maybe they don't believe me.
3- I'm gonna hazard a guess here. From what I've seen, you have alcohol problems. So I'm gonna guess you were in AA, had been sober for a while, I want to say 6 months, maybe less, when we met."
She confirms my guess.
"alright so option 3, I'm guessing you had a sponsor in AA." she nods "we call them up and tell them about your relapse and what happened this morning. Can they come get you and take care of you?"
She takes her phone out and picks a contact and calls. She hands me the phone. Someone answers and I explain the situation. They said they were coming right away. I give them my address, they get here 15 minutes later. Maryse had fallen asleep in the meantime, so I wake her up gently and help her to the car. Off she went.
I went back to my apartment and just crashed back to sleep.
A month later
Mid-january, my phone rings and I see Maryse's number on there. I send her to voice mail. Another call. Voicemail again. 5 minutes later, Private number calling. "Gee I wonder who that could be." Voicemail once more.
Afterwards, I didn't get any unidentified callers for a little over a week. One afternoon, I was at work and my phone rings and it's a number I do not recognize. I pick up.
"Hello."
"Hi, is this Guy?"
"Yes, to whom am I speaking?"
"This is Hannah, Maryse's sponsor. we spoke last month." I started fearing the worst.
"Yes, I remember. How can I help you?"
"Maryse tried to reach you last week and you rejected the calls. I think it could help Maryse if you listened to what she had to say. You're obviously not obligated to entertain her, but I think despite everything that happened, you still care about her or you would not have called me that morning."
"You are right, I do still care about Maryse. I'm just not sure how good it would be for her to meet me this soon after everything that happened. I understand wanting to work through the 9th step and making amends, but..." She interrupts me.
"So you know about the steps."
"Yes I have friends in the program. which is how I could guess that she was in the program too that morning."
"You know it's important."
"I know. I know. How about this: we meet in public at a cafe, you would have to be there. Not necessarily at the table with us, but nearby in case she needs help, in case meeting me causes her pain. Tell her I promise to be in a more receptive mood than I was that morning."
So we make an appointment for that saturday afternoon.
I get to the coffee shop. She's already there, and so is her sponsor. I realize happily that she's not wearing makeup. I say happily because that means she understands that this is not a date, but something serious. She's still stunningly beautiful, and I feel sad almost right away.
I grab a coffee and go join her at the table.
"Hey" I say,
"Hey. So this is gonna be uncomfortable, but thank you for agreeing to meet me and for coming, I appreciate it more than you know. I'm sure you heard I quit the store."
"I have, I'm sorry about that, I hope you didn't do it just because of me."
"No, I needed time to focus on myself for now."
She proceeds to tell me about how I wasn't far off with my guess. She had been sober 4 months when we met. Now she had 39 days. She tells me that in AA, if you are single, they recommend not dating anyone new for at least the first year of your sobriety as it can cause issues, similar to what happened with us. I was like her "drug" and as long as I was available, she could get her fix. But the moment I wasn't available all hell broke loose, and that is what led her back to drinking that day.
I told her I'm glad to see her back sober again this quickly and I hope she can get all the help she needs from it. I ask her if she wants to talk to me about her drinking.
She starts to share a story about how she started drinking at around 11 years old. When puberty hit her, she got into a deep depression because the sexual feelings she was starting to feel were triggering responses. As a child she had been abused by two of her uncles repeatedly and her parents never believed her. They accused her of trying to make herself interesting. That was until they caught one of those uncles red-handed.
They finally believed and took the necessary steps to protect their daughter. But they were poor and they couldn't afford therapy. So she never really got help for it. At 11, she started self medicating the depression with alcohol. When alcohol wasn't enough, she added drugs.
At that point, I was full on crying. She asked me if I wanted her to stop. I told her that she doesn't have to stop. That the tears are there because that was one more thing we had in common. I was also a survivor of sexual assault as a child. In my case, it wasn't a family member, it was only a stranger, so it only happened once. But I also self-medicated with alcohol at the onset of puberty, switching to drugs later on too. I was lucky to avoid the pitfalls of addiction, but I was still dealing with my demons, slowly making peace with them.
So there we were, sitting at a coffee shop, both crying and holding each other. I tell her that I think it's great she's getting help for her alcoholism and addicion, but was she doing anything to help with the underlying issue, the original trauma? She said no, she couldn't afford therapy. I tell her that I am a member of a survivors group and if she is interested, I could get her into a meeting and perhaps learn to heal that part of herself too.
She said that she could give it a try. I tell her I have to talk to the other members to know if I can bring someone new and I would let her know. If they said yes, we would go to her first meeting together, I would introduce her and then we would coordinate so that I never went to meetings where she was. I wanted to do that because I wanted her first few meetings to be about healing and I didn't want our own history to be intertwined or mixed in with that.
After that, we left both feeling content and, while not necesarily happy, at peace if you will. Later on, I contacted Stephanie who was one of the "pillars" of the support group (that's how we met) to ask her if it was okay for me to bring in a new member to the group. She said sure. She asked if it was anyone she knew. I told her she would have to meet her at the meeting if she decides to come.
We were having a meeting the following day. I called Maryse, told her the time and place, and she said she would be there. She came to the group meeting and was shocked to see Stephanie there but Stephanie kinda guessed that it was Maryse I was referring to.
I introduce her, we start sharing stories, talking about how we're feeling, etc. The meeting was good and Maryse liked the vibe. So for the first six months after that, I never saw Maryse and we planned which meeting we would be attending to ensure we didn't cross paths. She started feeling much better.
After maybe 2 and a half years, she finally felt ready and she started dating again. She met someone and she fell for him. They were together for about six months, she looked happy. Unfortunately after about six months, she caught him cheating on her. We tried supporting her, being good friends, cursing his name, doing all the things we could to make sure she didn't relapse. But on April 5th 2014, she ODed on heroin. She was hospitalized for 2 weeks after that.
Hannah took her in and she set up a room for Maryse. She was still in a fragile state, so a group of her friends and I started taking turns watching over Maryse, making sure there was always at least one person there with her to keep her company.
Despite our vigilance, on May 14th 2014, when Hannah was out running a quick errand, she was gone maybe 15 minutes tops, Maryse found a way to cut her wrists and she died. We found a note saying that "the OD was not an accident, and neither was that. Thanks for everything you did for me. I love you all, but I can't do this anymore."
It feels good to write that story (I'll just ignore the fat tears rolling down my face!). Thanks for reading this far and sorry for the long story, I just started writing and couldn't stop. I apologize if it was a bit of a bummer.

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May 13th is an anniversary for me. That day, in 2008, I tried to break up a bar fight & woke up 2 weeks later in a hospital bed. My skull was fractured & I had severe brain trauma. My right ear was left 100% deaf, with non-stop tinnitus resulting from the torn auditory nerve connecting my brain to my ear. I had lots of other issues too, like not being able to walk, swallow easily, strong memory issues, no sense of taste or smell, etc. So tinnitus was just part of the mix of health hassles overwhelming me. With time, medication and therapy, all those issues were resolved, leaving only my deaf ear and the tinnitus as long-term problems.
At first, the constant high-pitched squeal made it very difficult for me to get to sleep. My audiologist recommended that I try using a noise machine. By listening to sounds like white noise, the sounds of the beach, rain, etc, my brain would have something else to focus on beside the tinnitus screech. The machine helped to distract my mind on a soft neutral sound as I fell asleep. It worked very well and I recommend using one of these for new tinnitus sufferers. After a few months, I was able to gradually turn down the volume of the noise machine and finally I was able to sleep without a machine.
It has been 16 years since I heard true absolute silence- proof that you don't miss something until it's gone! Since 2008, no matter where I go and how totally quiet a place may be, I still hear that tinnitus squeal. Yes, it can be very frustrating, very distracting and emotionally challenging. But I came to accept this annoying distraction as a part of surviving my brain injury.
I do not get depressed, saddened or angry over suffering from it- it does zero good at all to struggle emotionally against what cannot be changed- why choose to make yourself suffer even more? So I am now at peace with this condition, though it took me a few years. And yeah, over time, since tinnitus is a constant, I have become relatively less aware of it, the buzz often fading from my awareness when I listen to music or watching a film, just another background noise that at times you can become more are of. People who grew up near a busy airport compare it to that experience.
Since in my case tinnitus is combined with traumatic hearing loss from a brain injury, being deaf in one ear while constantly hearing the electric buzz of my torn auditory nerve all combines into one hearing loss mess for me. Being half-deaf with tinnitus creates auditory interference with the hearing in my good ear- the tinnitus buzz is often louder than the voice of someone that I am talking with. Overtime, I have instinctively learned to walk and sit strategically, so that I attempt to place myself with my good ear pointed towards whomever I am with.
The volume of the tinnitus squeal is automatically as loud as my environment, matching the volume of whatever I am hearing through my good ear. So when I am at a loud restaurant, at a disco or anywhere noisy, my brain attempts to match the volume of what it perceives as is being heard from both ears. So the volume of the tinnitus is as loud as the concert or party where I find myself, making communications difficult.
Well, I just wanted to share all this with all my fellow tinnitus sufferers. For those of you who are new to this experience, it is never something good, but over time it tends to fade into the background as a constant annoyance that you learn to cope with, though of course at times it does frustrate more than others. For other long-term patients, well, I just wanted to share my perspective and experience, which may or may not overlap with your own. I send a big hug to everyone in the tinnitus community.

My sister went to live in a small town in the Pacific Northwest about a year ago. Contact with her ceased 10 hours after she had left town. Her phone would go straight to voicemail and I couldn’t file her as missing, as I hadn’t even gone there to make sure she was okay myself. But when I entered that small sleepy village, I didn’t think I was going to be leaving.
The fact is she hadn’t told me specifically what town, but modern technology prevails and before she moved she had forgotten to stop sharing her location with me. At least the location was active for the 10 hours after she had left our shared apartment. The location was a road coursing through the dense pine forests, and the closest town was only a few miles North. It was a start so after a few days of ruminating, worrying and telling myself that she’s fine, she’s an adult, she doesn’t need me to baby her anymore, I caved to the worry and packed my bags.
The long drive from our hometown of ***** in Idaho was adding to my stress, if only speed limits were not a thing. I drove into the town of ******** as night was falling and the dense forests around me began to feel as if they were closing in on me. The town was quiet, and to be honest I couldn’t see anyone. A few signs flashed on and off which presumably meant that despite the deserted streets, people were most likely dwelling inside the diners and bars that were sporadically placed.
I pulled into the diner which had the most cars parked in the lot, stepping out of my car and briskly walking to it as it begun raining. The smell of pancakes, cigarettes and coffee hit me as I walked inside the door, along with the warmth that flooded over my cold limbs. The customers sat in their plaid shirts, sipping on their beverages, and looked at me in somewhat disdain. Outsiders I guess. I sat on the corner booth, and the waitress came over to me; a much less disapproving expression on her face thankfully. I ordered a diet coke and a stack of pancakes as after that drive my belly was louder than the chatter in the place. Whispers now, as if I had walked in on some secret group meeting that fronted as a family diner.
I tried ringing my sister again, hoping that perhaps it may ring this time. But it didn’t. I ate my pancakes, as I felt eyes on me with each bite. Once I had finished, I paid and left them, hearing the chatter intensify as the door shut behind me. It was 9pm and I had pre-booked a BnB about five minutes up the road. It was a quaint little colonial, with inviting amber light emanating from inside. From the empty parking lot I assumed I was to be the only guest that night, and I pulled my suitcase from my trunk, dragging it across the gravel courtyard.
As I got to the top of the stairs I realised there was no BnB sign or anything really that indicated that it was a BnB. No vacancy sign, no usual indications of it being a professional establishment. I twisted the doorknob and entered the ‘lobby’ which seemed to lack a reception desk, and very much looked as if I had simply walked into somebodies home. Silence. At this point I was certain I had inputted the wrong address, and seeing as it was a small town the fact that the door was unlocked was not so out of the ordinary. I turned and left, dragging my relatively heavy suitcase down the porch steps and back to my car. Before I managed to open my trunk, an elderly woman's voice came from behind me.
“Why you leaving dear, come on inside. I have just baked a fresh batch of Snicker doodles.”
I turned to see the lady, who looked very much like a stereotypical grandmother with her coifed hair and flowery apron.
I followed her as she escorted me back through the front door. At this point I was ready to collapse on a soft bed, my eyes were sore and my fingers felt as if they were about to snap from the cold air outside.
“I will take you to your room after you’ve tried one of my snickerdoodles,” the lady said as she gestured for me to follow her to the kitchen.
“This is the ***** BnB Isn’t it?” I asked as I sat on one of the chairs around the little round table she had in the middle of the kitchen.
“Yes of course. Would you like milk with your cookies dear?”
I ate the complementary cookies as she watched each bite that went into my mouth, before she asked the question that ultimately would lead to the cascade of events that made me never, ever want to visit a small town ever again.
“Where’s your invitation?” she asked as she tapped her fingers against the table.
“Invitation?” I asked. “You mean my booking number?”
“No dear, your invitation to this town. No one comes here without one.”
“I don’t have one, I only have the booking number for this hotel.”
When I said this the woman’s homely demeanour soon changed. She looked irritated, angry, and went to the phone that was hanging on the wall.
“Who are you calling?”
She turned back to me with wide eyes, and as I swallowed it felt as if one of those delicious cookies was lodged in my throat.
“I don’t know about an invitation, I have my booking number, I paid for the room.”
The lady didn’t look back to me when I said this and stood with the phone against her ear.
“There is a young lady here without an invitation,” the woman said. “Yes, no invitation.”
The woman started tapping her foot on the floor as she grew impatient with whoever was on the other end of the phone. At this point I got up, and backed into the hallway where my suitcase was still sitting by the front door.
“She’s leaving! What do you want me to do! I cant run after her, I had a damn hip replacement!”
I at this point, as anyone would do, ran to the front door, and picked my suitcase up as I heard her yelling intelligible things at the phone.
I ran to my car, shoved the suitcase on the passenger seat, and reversed out of there, as my heart was nearly bursting through my ribcage.
I drove back the way the diner was, not knowing what I was going to do. I couldn’t just leave here, my sister was somewhere and if this was how the locals were, I sure as hell was going to find her and take her back home.
But at this point I had nowhere to sleep, and it wasn’t like I could just drive to the next town over, which was hours away. I was sure to have crashed the car in my state of panic and sheer exhaustion.
I composed myself as my shaky hands held onto the wheel, and decided that f it. I would have to drive to the nearest town, whatever was going on here, whether I was just paranoid or what, felt very off.
But as I came to the road that led out of town, I noticed the orange lights of a roadblock, warping in the rain that started to pelt down harder.
I stopped my car and got out to speak to the people standing in front of it, placing cones and signs.
“I need to leave, is there another way out?” I yelled through the almost deafening sound of the rain.
“No Miss. you’ll have to get a hotel tonight.”
“Why is it blocked?”
“Something on the road. There’s a BnB up the road.”
I ran back to my car, wiping the rain out of my eyes. What on earth was going on, and one way out? They had to be lying or something. I turned my phone on and of course because of the rain, and impending storm, no signal, no maps.
I did a U turn, the road had to come out somewhere else up north. The town could not just be a one way in, dead end out.
I drove past the BnB, up the main road as my wipers were struggling to keep up with the pouring rain.
And thats when I realised that the main road at least was one way in. The road stopped randomly, blocked by pines that lead into a forest. I didn’t want to stop there, to I turned down a road to the right, just praying please please please get me out of here, I’ll come back in the daylight but please tonight just get me out of here.
The road began to get bumpy. In the distance I could see lights and through the intermittent vision I had of the road, I could see a church. I parked and got out of the car, hoping that the church might offer me some sort of shelter. I ran through the rain as the wind worked against me. I rapped on the old wooden door, yelling for someone to open it, all while looking back at the black void behind my car from where I had come.
After a few minutes, I heard the clinking of a lock and stepped back. A friendly face of a woman peered through a gap and she looked up at me.
“How can I help. Its 10Pm.”
“I have nowhere to stay, and that BnB down the road was not very inviting.”
“Invitation Hm?”
“Yes, you know about that?”
The lady opened the door and gestured for me to enter. The wind howled through the church even when she had shut the door, and there was candles placed throughout.
“Is the woman ok in that BnB?” I asked the lady.
“The woman. Miss, you came to the wrong place, and I’m not sure what I can do to help you.”
“The wrong place?” I asked as I felt completely as if I was about to break down and cry from the fear of what on earth was going on.
“You can stay here, and I will help you however I can. But it’s me and a few of my friends against that town. I cant promise anything.”

The rift between them has caused a lot of tension in my family and now my mom wants to be in the life of her newborn grandson but refuses to address or try to mend things with my wife.
Little history: I probably introduced them too quickly. My grandmother was in town in south Florida about to move here from Illinois for a retirement community. My wife, girlfriend at the time, came with cookies or some form of baked goods like she usually does when visiting someone as a sign of affection and respect. Where it went wrong from here I have no idea. I suppose the initial crack was when wife scheduled a skitrip for her and I to have as a 1 year of dating anniversary present. We are not rich, this is a huge gift that made sense to her since I refused to let her pay rent. Our combines salaries are barely over 120k. So wife calls mom 6 months in advance because she is a planner for the sole purpose of asking my mom to watch one of our four dogs. Wife has already paid in full for the trip. Yet Mom decides it is a great idea to instead use the opportunity to hop on and take a family trip because it is the last time the family will have for a family vacation - I am the oldest of two boys and two stepsisters, my mom married the guy she left my father for who has twin girls of his own that were in the womb during the infidelity. Anyway mom completely takes over and decides to make our one year gift a family vacation, so she books tickets for a hotel nearby. Wife is bold but at the time not bold enough to stop my mom in her tracks for overstepping a boundary. At this time she still respected my mother and kind of let herself get steamrolled.
Probably skippable Family history: Now I have always had issues with my mother, resentment for leaving my father for my stepdad behind my own fathers back and constantly trying to keep brother and I from seeing “Disneyland dad who doesn’t do any of the work but gets all the fun.” my mother was very strict growing up, always bringing us to church and making my father feel guilty for not bringing brother and I on his weekend. So mom marries stepdad age 11, divorces him around 13 after asking me advice for her relationship and i encourage her to move out. Then remarries him and moves us back into his house age 15. Here I begin rebellion and normal teeenager stuff but stepdad won’t butt in because he isn’t my “biological father” so would have my mom intervene brother and i from behind the scenes. For example, I am young and messing around on the piano because music is important and I never had any formal training and mom comes in to tell me stepdad “wants to know when the concert is going to end because it is a little annoying.” Anyway, they have me prescribed adderall at 16 and in the parking lot holding my first prescription I am told that they would like me to move out and in with my father, who had chased us every time mom and stepdad moved several miles away (5 moves from age 5-15 all in one county). Anyway, brother and I are recovering alcoholics with (my) slipups triggered from interactions or visiting my mom, which mom claims is genetics from my father alone and has nothing to do with her. Maternal grandfather, mother, and I have some nasty temper problems which certainly are exacerbated by drinking (at least mine and moms).
Skitrip revelations: Wife and I are on the way to brothers graduation in Chicago, and wife has yet to reveal to me that my mother has taken over her massive investment of a couples ski vacation and it will now be a family vacation for mom, stepdad, brother, two stepsisters who are all getting out of gradschool. On the way to the airport I am told the news by future wife of my one year surprise. So I get upset and call my mom to call it off. She obliges my request and now holds resentment against me and now wife for “ruining her last family vacation.” Fine, whatever. Mother never says a word about it for months until we are out for a distant family members birthday dinner and at a table of about 8-10 people that are having a group conversation and gets real close to my wife’s ear and tells her privately along the lines of “you deprived our family of our last family vacation.” During this time my wife is frantically tapping my leg under the table because my mom can get a little aggressive. My mom saw this and later (privately to me) mocked her for doing it to my leg under the table.
Christmas blessings: Closer to Christmas maybe 2/3 weeks later we went to go see my mom and my mom had a couple drinks in her (not an alcoholic like brother and I just very sensitive to a couple glasses of wine and occasionally some hidden sips of wine or something) and invites my wife to Christmas church and out to dinner after because the family needs photos for a Christmas card and future wife “will be the photographer for it.” Now this can easily be a nothing comment but given the way my mom had been making future wife feel, it was taken as an insult. So wife declined church and showed up to family dinner just in time for photography session to be over.
The distance: Then mom moves to a fancy house up the coast and invites us up to visit. At first it is ok to bring the 4 dogs then the day before she says they will not have dogs at the house and we can easily find a sitter. 2 Dogs don’t get along, they need to be separated always as there has been two attacks on one from the other, so we can’t trust someone to come to the house and keep them separate and we won’t board 4 dogs it’s too expensive for us. Anyway we go back and forth being invited with the dogs then they retract the offer and say pick one dog to bring and leave the others and it’s just annoying, so we say forget it and don’t go. But my brother becomes engaged and decides to throw his engagement party at my mom’s new place near the beach. Great. First all the dogs are welcome, then day before they say it is too chaotic and she will pay for a small hotel room for one night for future wife and her dogs and my one (the attack dog) can stay in a crate at the house with me but I may not leave the dog to stay with her. And no reasonable cheap hotel in the area is going to accommodate 4 dogs. Anyway wife is stressed but feels obligated to come because I am the best man and I stay at the house while she checks her dogs into the hotel. Wife had made a cheesecake and brought it up in a separate car from me, 4 hour drive by the way, and night of.. my mom says no desserts for engagement party dinner, the dessert is themed or some crazy stuff. Wife shows up to dinner a little later and very flustered because of the situation plus I had relapsed on a bottle of whiskey a couple days prior to seeing my mom. Related, I don’t know. Anyway. Mom has had a couple drinks and future wife and I are talking about having children and religion comes up. Mom asks what we were thinking of doing about baptism or not and I jokingly said (guiltily to get on my moms nerves a bit) that he would have a bris and would love it if she would come to the bar mitzvah. now my wife’s mom was forced to convert from Catholicism to Judaism for her own mother in laws acceptance for a failed marriage so wife is not religious, but it hurt my wife and reasonably so when my mom replied “oh, son, I raised you better than that.” Still no acknowlegement of fault from that comment and mom thinks wife is “overly sensitive, dramatic, and childish” for wanting an apology for it.
Weddings: Future wife becomes current wife. We had gotten engaged on our next anniversary trip she planned for us. I proposed on our bike and barge through tulip season in holland with our feet in the water of the North Sea after a picnic in the dunes. her family business manufactures photo albums for professional photographers, so aside from our families all being divorced, estranged, difficult, and us trying to save money, we did not have a wedding, we just did the paperwork within a month of the proposal. I had already decided to have a baby with her before the trip so we were trying. 2 weeks before brothers wedding in Tennessee we become pregnant, so we break news immediately as to not steal limelight from brothers expensive wedding. Mom says she will cover cost of rental car so we can save money. Ok great. She books the tiny car and we pack it and head up the Smokey mountains to the cabins we are staying at. Two cabins for grooms family, one for his mother and one for his father, ten paces from each other: they havnt spoken but twice im since divorce in 1995 but through lawyers. Grandmother, mother, stepdad, 2 stepsisters and one boyfriend stayed in mom’s side. Wife and I stay at father’s side cabin with just his wife. His Wife’s 3 daughters and family’s stayed a town away down the mountain among extended family. Anyway, beautiful wedding takes place. My wife is sent into town to collect flowers and run errands for my mom which she happily obliged to since she is a solitary person and did not want wedding day drama. Day after, we are loading our rental sedan with our bags. Mom and grandma need a ride to the airport and our flight is before theirs so they will drop off the car for us 4 hours or so after we go to the airport 5 hours from current time. We’re loading the car. Stepcousin passed out in mother’s cabin night before and needed a ride. Disorganized brunch for 20 people is trying to be made. Father’s wife’s daughter books a reservation for 10 people which include her family, her sisters, me, my wife, dad, and their mom. My stepdad had left for home at this point as he had taken his own suv instead of flying with my mom and 90 year old grandma. So mom is trying to pack grandma in the car with bags and my wife and stepcousin. At this point mother asks stepmother if she and grandma are on reservation for the brunch. Stepmom says no they are not, she wasn’t sure of their plans. Mom says under her breath “fucking assholes, so typical,” and she goes into a bit of a rage to which my stepmom says here “it’s ok I will call and add you two it’s no big deal.” So we continue packing the car and realize we won’t all fit. So my wife tells my stepcousin to go ride with my father to the restaurant 10 minutes away we will meet you there. Mom says to wife, “no you go with the father.” Wife says “no I am going to ride with my husband” mom gets close to her face with her finger and says “this is my car, you can fucking Uber!” Wife is 6 weeks pregnant at this point and it all escalated from here. wife and mother start yelling at each other swearing at each other and we get into the car, mom behind wife who was in shotgun. 2 occasions on the trip I had to stop the car because mom had taken off her seatbelt to stand over the seat and scream in my wife’s face with so much vigor that spit came on to her face multiple times. I’m trying to tell them both to behave and mom sit down shut the f up. Mom is telling wife to get the f out of the car and find a ride, she has no right to speak because she’s “new here” (dating and living together for 3 years at this point). The following brunch she apologized in a crowd with a hushed voice at a table of 20 people trying to have a group conversation again privately to my wife “I’m sorry you get so upset” and my wife told her “that is not an apology.” The following several hours in the car with grandma and stepcousin and wife were some of the most uncomfortable moments of my life. At a gas station I pulled my mom aside and said I need ther to give a huge apology, that it was so nasty and inappropriate, my brother and I are used to abusive language and aggressive behavior but to my pregnant wife and any other human being it is disgusting and unacceptable. Sitting in the car was quiet for many hours until we got to the airport. No speaking about what happened just mom happy go lucky about Tennessee and Dollywood and wife and I in shock, cousin still half in the bag from a fun wedding, grandma 90 years old probably confused about what happened.
The family groupchat: Im waiting on an apology from my mother to my wife who is extremely hurt and expressed to my mom loads of time she needs to reach out and apologize. We’re not talking until she will do so. It is bugging me and keeping me up at night. My appendix flares up and I am admitted to the hospital with emergency appendectomy. Still pregnant Wife suggests I reach out to mom to let her know what’s going on. So I text mom I’m at the hospital and will have surgery. I send a pic or something that on my end says hasn’t gone through. Mom group texts our family group with stepdad, his daughters, brother and his wife, and grandma that I am in the hospital and attaches the pic I sent of me in there. Then she continues to rave about the success of her startup company and how they got FDA approved clinical trials finally completed or some pivotal moment that made the text about her. Wife and I are in a hospital so the picture comes up on moms end as unable to have been sent. Mom assumes that my wife has blocked her phone, so mom removes my wife from the chat. Wife is rushing home to take care of the dogs at this point and is not alerted on her phone, but on everyone else’s phone it clearly reads “(mom) has removed (wife) from the chat.” Immediately I text my mom and basically say how dare you do that to her she is the one who insisted I let you know out of respect and mom responds with blah blah she did this she did that I will not have it. So I go back to the family chat and remove mother. At this point I let everyone in the chat know what my mother has done and how she refuses to take responsibility for how she made my wife feel, address her feelings, apologize or do anything at all to reach out about the wedding incident or even inquire about the wellbeing of the pregnancy for her first grandchild. Stepdad finally steps in and tells me “enough.” Grandma says “shame on you.” I am dumbfounded. This is a hush hush family that hates to have anything out in the open and likes to maintain a picture perfect image. For examples; 1) I and wife were on the family Christmas card of a photo taken at the wedding that the whole world received except for wife and I. 2)brothers alcoholism was to remain hidden from the family as was his rehab treatment and how it affected his career. Now understand that they like to keep things quiet but that is not how I want to handle my problems, these things trigger alcohol use and violent outbursts on my part that I no longer wish to live through. Now appendectomy’s are pretty simple so I recovered quickly (it don’t rupture we just took it out). But during the time I was scheduled to be under anesthesia, stepdad reaches out to wife to have a chat and clear the air. Wife waits until I come to so i can be there and I hear the conversation. He claims to be here as a middleman like a business meeting to fix things once and for all. Wife and I are like wow great. He then proceeds to double down on my moms behalf that they will not be apologizing or meet any of her demands as she had already apologized as confirmed by 90yo grandma who was in the car and my mother herself. The term he used was stalemate to describe the situation. Wife and I are shocked but she has me keep quiet to show me what he will say. He proceeds to yell at her and they were screaming at each other, again steamrolling the conversation assuring us that he was down the middle yet maintains that mom has made a sufficient apology that needs to be accepted and wife needs to grow up and move on, then wishing her luck with the baby and a nice life. Next day I call stepdad to see how it went. He reassures me that he has done all he can and everything is back to normal. At this point I call him out and tell him I was conscious and explain to him what an apology is. But there is no dialogue with this guy like there is no dialogue with my mother. He proceeds to talk loudly over me like she does and basically call me a piece of shit for the amount he and mother have done for me. I speak to him first time like I never have before by calling him a hands off father and a pussy of a man who finally reaches out while he thinks I am under anesthesia to yell at my wife then pretend it’s cool, and I basically tell him he has never done a single thing for me to try and develop me into a man or nurture me as a child into an adult, but he thinks taking me on fishing trips and ski vacations are equivalent to love and nurturing growth and development just like my mom does. I reassure him that he has no right to talk about family being that he ruined his own as well as mine and couldn’t even tell my dad to his face that it was him who was sleeping with my mom behind his back when my dad came to him very upset as a friend when he got an anonymous phone tip at work one day. Then him and my mom laughed about it in court when my dad brought it up during the divorce. We ended with swearing and I felt very happy for finally giving my true feelings to him.
The birth: Months go by and nobody has said a thing. I can’t sleep at night seeing how much love I am getting from my father and his side for the baby, and my wife’s family, then thinking about how my own mother hasn’t reached out a single time. I’m dreaming about beating up my stepdad and it’s driving me mad. So weeks before the due date I reach out to my mom begging her to clear things up and apologize to my wife. Nothing. A week later i tell her how disappointed and abandoned I feel and want her in the family. Nothing. Baby comes a couple days early. Everyone is excited. Mom texts me begging for photos and to let everyone know. I tell her my brother and two stepsisters have received photos. I ask her to please reach out to wife she still needs to make amends for what’s happened between them and all she needs to do is reach out. Mom’s responses have been defensive, derisive, projecting, playing victim and referring to herself as a kicked puppy. Telling me my wife needs to apologize to her and making the conversation about mother son instead. She is beating around the bush. And she is sending me photos of my own baby that I did not send her. Her friends are congratulating me that I did not tell. Again she is pretending that everything is ok and it is not. She asked me to apologize to her husband for what I said on the phone that day. I said ok, watch this. So I sent the guy a message that was very apologetic and not passive aggressive or backhanded comments in any way. Still my mom won’t say anything.
Now: Baby is 6 days old. He is the best thing in my life and I wish my family were involved but it seems like I am living in a fantasy world where everyone can be happy together. I can be a jerk and have a terrible relationship with my mom, but I want more than anything to just feel loved enough where she can swallow her pride and make amends with my wife. Thats it. And she asked the other day to put a family group chat so everyone can be involved… for real? I know she is stressed with a high pressure job, but it seems heartless to me. She asks what big items she can get for the baby. Mom, baby is here we have everything for a couple months already. I said the biggest thing you can do is reach out and have a heart to heart with my wife so this rift can end and we can at least be cordial if you two can’t get along. I don’t think it will happen.
How do I mend this relationship between my wife and my mother?

[OC Intro: The game is modded to increase basic jobs cost, seasonal events are disabled. Much of the crash details are based on NASA/SP-2008-565 Columbia Crew Survival Investigation Report recommendations especially Chapter 3 "Occupant Protection".]
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries. He has only a few minutes of APU power left, goes over the best clearing he can find, and radars it. It varies by only a few feet from the aerodynamic glideslope there. He spots it out on the cameras and circles to go after that spot. He's only at two hundred feet now. With one hand on the stick, he uses the other to open the pressure equalization valve on the side hatch, then at one hundred feet, gets it undogged. Depending on how much damage he's going to get, it's less likely to be stuck closed and trap him. The dynamic vacuum this pulls in the cockpit rips most of the survival pack data cards from that rack and scatters them across the landscape. Crap, I'm gonna need those! Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, he turns on the radar for the final approach, takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and PFD, he clicks his HANS and shoulder strap locks in; after that, he can barely move, but that now is better than dying in this crash with a broken neck. He's a decent pilot and brings up the flare gently. Bringing up the alpha on this delta-winged ship, he balloons a little, but keeps the nose going up and restores a zero aerodynamic sink rate just above the highest terrain indicated by the radar altimeter. The ship bumps a little in the ground effect, and he can see the radar altitude cycling irregularly up and down about five feet at a time. Rougher than it looked from higher up! The body flap protecting the dead engines hits first, and the nose comes rapidly down. It hits, the screens go blank, and Tightniks is surrounded by airbags, some lifting his feet from the rudder petals and his hand from the control stick. It's blinding, it's disorienting, it's noisy, and, to his relief, it's long! It takes several seconds before the crashing cockpit stops moving. How many times did he flip over? Did he go sideways and roll? Am I rightside up? Are we really stopped on the ground? The airbags deflate, and he can move his arms. He gets his restraints loose and inspects himself. "Uck!" he says out loud (without the 'f'). No broken bones. His pressure suit can take his blood pressure. 116/81, pulse 112, blood oxygen 99 reads off on his left arm, I'll friggin' take it!
The ship is amazingly intact from what he can tell. He can't get any readings. The systems test meter seems to be working, but can't find any voltages anywhere. The ship seems to be completely dead. Behind him, 10 passenger seats are all surrounded by airbags and the back of the cabin ends in some sort of dirt-and-gravel and there's a bit of daylight seeping in around the edges. He was the only one on board, though, so their deployment was mostly academic (they might have stiffened the structure a little during the crash, but that's probably trivial.) Tightniks gets out of his spacesuit. The air on this planet is actually breathable. He gets the hatch open, steps outside and-
"A green shimmer erupts then disappears, and you hit the ground."
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. Where am I? What's my name? I remember nothing. Aren't babies born naked? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Gets up, looks around. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He picks up a small stone from the ground, this also feels heavier than it should. He rises to his feet and holds it out somewhat (he's unable to fully extend his arm) and lets it go. The stone hits the ground near his feet quickly and with remarkable speed. It's the gravity, it's greater than it is on- ...where am I from? This is- ...not my home planet? "Oooh..."
"Ka?" it says.
What is that? It's cute, at least.
It is not tame. He has no hope of catching it on foot. The creature seems to like the berries. Maybe if I gather some of those into one place and set some kind of trap...
33s: First trap.
I got one! The human lumbers up to the trap and gets the catch open. Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to me; I'm so friggin' screwed.
It doesn't. It looks at the human with a sense of wonder, actually. A blink and tilt of the head. Seems almost to be asking, Is it you? My purpose? My savior? Once out of the trap, which is totally wrecked, he has to make a new one from scratch, it follows him around like a imprinted hatchling bird.
Wiry little fella, you are. You're going to need some bulking up to do anything useful. The- ...'trimp', I guess... The trimp seems just barely able to feed itself. The human lets him into the broken ship's intact cabin, and it curls up comfortably in a passenger seat for a nap.
1m03s: Second trap.
"Apparently the Trimps breed if they're not working. Doesn't look pleasant."
What are they doing?
The trimps appear to be androgynous, and these two have paired off in the back of the ship. They're holding something carefully within a few hours, feeding it berries, grass, and- ...corundum.
Corundum?? Whatever that is, it isn't a baby.
1m35s: Third trap.
Only it IS a baby! The third trimp he trapped immediately joined the other two in raising it. They have a strange diet of food the human has found compatible with his own body, but they also eat rocks! They're careful to crush and sort aluminate minerals from silcate ones and only eat aluminate. Actually, they don't eat aluminate, they're only feeding it to the baby.
2m06s: Fourth trap.
All four are raising the same child, who is just starting to toddle. It seems these fellas have alumina or maybe even aluminum bones. The human takes a nap and wakes to find the first child grown up and they're starting to raise a second child, all five of them.
2m46s: Huts.
The human found a working bit of electronics. He calls it a pad, but maybe it's more like a smartphone. It has plans for two residential structures. The first, the smaller one, he can build right away, but the second one needs something called "drywall", and he has to figure out how to make that before he can build it. Huts and houses, apparently.
3m13s: 10 pop, full, first farmer.
The trimp he trained to farm and make paper took an incredible 50 units of food to get bulked up to do the work, and now it's not participating in rearing the child. But less than an hour after the trimp started farming and pulping, the child was out on its own, and the trimps did not start another. The ten seats on the ship were all full. Well, eleven counting the one up front that the human sleeps in. The pilot starts exploring the area.
3m28s: Battle.
Wait, what are you do-
The hostile roars and charges at the human, but one of his trimps jumps in front of him with a stick and they fight. It started right when the human got far enough away from the ship that the hostile non-trimps away from the ship began to regard him as leaving his own territory. After the trimp defeats the first enemy, it continues after other hostiles.
3m53s: Shield I in Z1c5.
The human is easily able to recover the loot in the territory cleared by the fighting trimp. Then he sees something glinting in the- That can't be! What the heck is that? It's a data card that fits his pad. It quite clearly regards trimp combat. He gets it loaded into his pad and studies it. I can do this, it just takes some wood. He returns to the ship to discover that they had already started on a new child before the fighter had even expired in battle. The human concentrates on his research.
4m38s: Mskel in Z1c11 defeated.
The remains of this one seem rather white and shiny. It's titanium! This enemy had titanium bones! He'll store them away. They'll be useful someday, I'm sure.
5m52s: Dagger I in Z1c20.
Where are these data cards coming from? The human wonders as he loads this one into his pad, It's for a weapon it calls a dagger. He blinks. I don't know what a dagger is. I'll take your word for it, data card. Needs metal. He has gathered some, but ore is plentiful. He can just dig and smelt it whenever he wants. For now, I'll continue researching.
6m18s: Arable in Z1c21.
It's an old cave that trimps like to live in. Why weren't they able to live there before? How could these friendly critters be confined to only the exact spot where THAT thing, he looks back where he came from, not remembering that he piloted the wrecked ship to its current resting place, crashed? This is really strange. I'll let them fill up this cave before advancing further. Wait, what about defenses? The hostiles never try to reclaim territory that they've lost, so he stops worrying about that fairly quickly.
8m22s: First hut is 0.3% first ever AP.
The trimps seem fairly easy to please in terms of living quarters. Two move into his first hut and start raising a child. The human has his tent, uniform, and the heater pilfered from his space suit. Not much of a mud fan.
9m59s: Miners in Z1c30.
Oh, what's on this data card? Sl3niw? Oh, I'm holding the pad upside down. Miners. I can teach trimps how to mine ores and smelt met- 200 units of food? Each job is getting more expensive to train a trimp for. He puts his bee nickels to his eyes and spots another data card probably 10 enemies away. "Sc"? Does that means science? I can teach trimps to do science??
13m57s: Scientists in Z1c40.
Due to the expense of training trimps, the human couldn't afford to build them shields until now, he's got Sh1-3 made for the fighter to capture the science training data card. 14m02s: One head went into that turtlimp shell, that of his fighter, but two came out: his fighter still has his head on, and he managed to get the turtlimp's head off. It rushes off after the deadly penguimp in the next cell. The shields are not doing all that much good, actually, but they're better than nothing. The human picks up and loads the science data card and- Holy runny sugar-free fudge crap! 1000 food units, but it'll endow them with the ability to speak. Good. I'm getting bored with no one to talk to.
14m28s: Bloodlust purchased and AutoFight enabled (that delay after getting it is an effect of jacking up the job cost.)
As the human buries this expired little trimp warrior, he comes to the sobering realization that he has more trimp graves in his growing trimp colony than he does live trimps. And yet they seem more hopeful now than before I got to know any of them. They seem to think I'm the solution to all their problems or- Those two look east somberly, then notice that he's watching them and smile back and wave at him. ...one problem that is specific, but very, very huge for them. [The only reason I say 'east' is because that's right on a map, and the game advances right across a row, then up. I might say 'northeast' on occasion for that reason.]
20m47s: Z1c73, Miners taken.
Are you my new mining foreman? The trimp who took to the mining training has dark brown fur that lays flat on its head. It's unusual in not having any bits that stick out from its head, ahoge or whatever. This one is relatively quiet, and while it has assimilated the mining and smelting knowledge, it needs to bulk up to do any mining. Smelting is relatively easy, and getting a strong natural draft going in a furnace is almost trivial with the increased gravity. This trimp builds furnaces like nothing. And likes to nap in holes it digs right on the spot; it's weird that way. [Puchim@s Yukipo, and furnaces are not explicit in Trimps.]
21m58s: Farming in Z1c80.
The resourcing "books" are not data cards but paper scrolls, apparently lost to the trimps. It seems that they were civilized in the recent past and some calamity swept over the planet to reduce them to this. Did I have something to do with it? Amnesia sucks harder than a Dyson- ...what's a Dyson? Whatever, it sucks. This disaster happening just before I crash in the only spot with trimps still alive would be a seriously crazy coincidence! Something is really, really wrong about all this. [The author has not sought or received product placement permission or fee from Dyson Technology Ltd. or any resellers of their stuff, just they literally suck balls and made my favorite vacuum cleaner.]
23m50s: Builder in Z1c90.
They've rescued an, I dunno, gelding trimp? It just started to build a shed around the piled lumber I left to build one. It's really slow compared to me, and just banged its thumb, but it is super cute with that long reddish head fur. That particular trimp is also fascinated with pink ribbons and likes to decorate its head fur with them. Because of its inherent inability to participate in rearing children, it isn't counted in the population. [Puchim@s Io, builder on the basis of Iori seen building in 1x10.]
26m02s: Zone 2, 44 pop, 5.5s RC with Z0/1.
It's some sort of tactical manual - tactical coordination. Coordination! He's starting to sort out some trimpese on the research he has done so far. It needs a lot of metal, so they won't be able to implement it for some time. Hopefully, they're still good one at a time, but these enemies seem to be getting bigger as we go along. Uh oh!
27m33s: Gym in Z2c5.
It's some sort of training dojo or sporting arena. The human examines the ruins, I think I can back-engineer drawings for this, get one built, and see what happens.
29m02s: 1g, 47 pop, 10.8s RC with Z1/2.
The two fighting trimps now with their gym and coordination are dodging and blocking enthusiastically, and making much faster ground against the bad guys then a little while ago when it was just one trimp fighting at a time and unable to avoid the enemy hitting back.
40m46s: Fresh turkimp in Z2c74, 63 pop, 7.9s RC, Sh1-10, Da1-5, Bo1-3, Ma1-3, Hm1-3, 6g.
Oh, wow, the laborers seem really hot after this turkimp. He cooks it up and tries a slice. It's really awesome! I have to work alongside his laboring trimps to share it, but I'm getting used to the gravity now. That scroll we found back in Z2c10 really helped. Trimps' techniques and appliances for handicapped individuals, and I'm really handicapped in this higher gravity. He joins the woodcutters with the turkimp; they're the most numerous resource laborer right now, building more gyms, enough that the block/dodge ability of the fighting trimps is almost caught up to the enemy's ability to cause damage.
43m15s: Zone 3, 63 pop, 7.9s RC with Z1/2.
I'm neglecting my science and trimp scientists are really expensive. Curiously, that grey-haired one can't speak all that well, only says "Tai" and "Shijou", but it can write and draw like nobody's business. It's the only scientist so far. [Puchim@s Takanya: Online references probably still claim that she can utter the first two syllables of any word, but she can actually utter only the first two kana syllables of someone's name, most often the given name of basis human Takane Shijou, who also has that habit. (All the utterances of the puchidoru are based on the speech foibles of their basis humans except maybe Piyopiyo, where I haven't seen anything match up so far.)]
47m32s: Finally, we can make drywall and houses. 59m30s: Z3c77, 94 pop, 7.8s RC.
Oh, those poor things are really struggling up at the front. These trimps are enthusiastic and know no fear, but I still feel like telling them to stop for a while. I don't have the heart to keep them from trying while they're still doing some damage.
1h05m24s: Zone 4, 107 pop, 9.3s RC with Z3/4. 1h15m26s: Zone 5, 120 pop, 8.2s RC with Z3/4.
"What is that?" the human asks. He has three scientists. His first does all the writing, but the other two can actually speak. One of them hops up on a rock spire beside the human to reach his eye level.
At the next ridge line, over the lowest and most passable gap in the terrain, this really mean looking hovering sausage monster.
"I dunno," the scientist trimp shrugs, "But it's making me hungry. Looks like a perfectly cooked frankfurter from here." [John Morell's dubious dirigibles.]
"Oh, yeah," the human nods, "that's a blimp."
"A blimp?" the trimp tilts its head quizzically at the human, "How could you know?"
"I wish I could tell you, little buddy," the human extends his arm braces to descend the pass on the side of the zone boundary in the boss enemy's direction, then grunts, "Let's go kill it."
1h16m11s: Z1c9, 120 pop, 10.3s RC with Z4/5. 1h33m34s: Zone 6, 151 pop, 7.4s RC with Z4/5.
1h33m54s: TP in Z1c3.
"What's this?" the human asks, having picked up the little square document with the curling corners.
"Oh," the hungry scientist looks at it, "It's a garden path, follow me."
"You want to lead me down the garden path?" the human says.
"Yeah," the scientist says.
"Are you kidding?" the human asks.
"No," says the other scientist, "We don't get human humor. Listen, these fighters can't go, let them wear themselves out here, then we'll take the next group through this garden."
"Okay," the human nods, watching two more trimps join the fray as he issues the Z5 coordination orders, "they're doing pretty well after all that block training research we just wrapped up." [That's a common artifact, even in normal games, Z5 Traintacular combines with many gyms, enough population to add several trainers, affording Blockmaster, which is expensive on a run zero, plus a break on Tion Z5, a 40% all-stat increase. I don't think Zach designed it into the game on purpose, it just worked out this way.]
1h34m07s: 151 pop, 10.5s RC with Z5/7. 1h37m44s: Drop from Z6c39, TP for 3.
"Now we have these access map frags we can use to route through the old trimpopoli," the scientist explains, "Atlimpis for food, Morimpa for gems, Everimp for metal, and Impazon for wood."
"What about the garden?" the human asks.
"Well, we got lucky with Tricky Paradise," the scientist says, "but you can randomize the route and maybe get lucky. What's with that look?"
"Somehow, I'm remembering 'frag' as something that blew up with deadly pieces," the human says. [Different video games - ones with better graphics and worse gameplay Ｏ(>▽<)Ｏ]
1h39m59s: Blues back up to the top on series I...
"Tai, Tai!" the first ever trimp scientist stops the human just before he upgrades the mace and dagger to Mk.6 and Mk. 8 respectively. It has a note for him.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" the human asks, "Do you think that's my name?"
"Shijou, Shijou," it nods as though to indicate, I KNOW it is. Then it proffers its note again. The human takes it and reads, "Don't upgrade the first row equipment right now."
"Why not?" the human asks.
"Shijou," it points at the end of the mapped route, where there's a scroll sticking out of the thistles.
2h24m07s: Zone 8, 224 pop, 12.2s RC with Z7/12.
"Your settlement is getting crowded, there's Trimps in the streets, and you're taking heat. You feel a sudden strong desire to create a map, though you're not quite sure how that would help."
2h49m10s: Zone 9, 357 pop, 9.5s RC with Z8/15.
"You can't shake the feeling that you've been here before. Déjà-vu?"
The trimps really seem to like the new high capacity mansions, and the village has rapidly expanded since they started building them.
"There's something familiar about this," the human says.
"Tai," the grey one that writes clings to his arm and shows him a note that says, "Don't give up now."
"We must persist," says the yellow one has found a foothold it can grab onto and grabs the human's shoulder gently, "If you give up to early, we'll never solve this. You'll be stuck here forever."
The human puts his hand over the trimp's paw on his shoulders, then looks at him, "I can die, too."
"No, you can't," the trimp says quietly, "Please don't test that, tall one."
"Death is just another path..." he remembers.
"Gan," the grey one squeaks. [That's the first two kana syllables of "Gandalf"]
"...one that we all must take," the human continues, "The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it-"
"A green mist," the yellow trimp interrupts, "flash of fire, we're all gone and our progress forgotten. The wandering stars return to that day, and you again crash that ship- ...a little better every time."
"Wait," the human looks around, "have I been here before?"
"I-" the yellow trimp tries in futility to share what little it knows, "...or... somebody got just a little coolant into the-"
"Into the what?"
"This side up," the grey one's note says.
"Into the that," the yellow one points at the note, "It really helped. You- ...I don't think we've ever had mansions before."
Well, of course they didn't have mansions before. That was one of my ship's data cards. How did it get way out here? Will anything start to make sense?
3h02m13s: Zone 10, 387 pop, 8.7s RC with Z8/15; '28s: 11.1s RC with Z9/19. 3h16m41s: Tough snimp after food book, L10 rand dept from lo-hi-med 118/25/96, 4 Items.
"That's twice our frags led us to gem-rich Moria," the human says.
"Morimpa," the new red trimp scientist corrects, there now being 5 scientists. [There'd be more if there were more turkimp.]
"The question is how do we use all these gems?" the human looks at the village zoning plans again, "I like those mansions and all, but they use hardly any gems compared to, well-" he gestures at the pile of over two dozen thousand gems they've gathered, "-that! And still a lot of wood and lumber."
"I think there's something," the yellow one sighs, "I wish I knew more."
Quite some time later, after they're done looting that route for equipment plans, the trimps are again advancing through Zone 10, and he hears it.
"Tai?" the grey one wonders.
"Where are you going?" the yellow one asks.
"To the farm," the human answers.
"Whatever for?" the red one seems exasperated.
"Shijou?" the grey one sighs, then looks at the fighting front. It's been around long enough to remember, "Shijou!"
"You guys already get so much to eat this doesn't do you much good," the human explains.
3h32m33s: L11 112/35/78 rand sea, dropped from Z11c6 with disband, 4.
"What's wrong?" the red one asks.
The human comforts one of the wounded. Once trimps start into a zone fight, they have to finish before they bleed out. He's really bothered making them desert in front of that second turkimp. "They had a lot left in them," he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "but we can't keep that much dead turkimp at once, we have to leave it alive to use up all of this one."
"Shijou," the grey one presents a note, "We need this map right away, anyway. Don't worry about it, Tightniks."
"Tightniks?" he looks at the grey one, "Is that me? How do you know?"
"Tai," the grey one points at the top of the human's left breast pocket.
"Ah, crud," the yellow one curls its tail around in front of itself as trimps do when they're embarrassed, "Is that really a name tag?"
The human hadn't even noticed it since the green flash blew up his memory as he was stepping out of the ship.
4h04m22s: Block (sub-8h AP is only 0.3%), taking it, 504 pop, 9.8s RC with Z10/24.
It's a pretty thick book about using shields for block instead of hit points. The pad has the stats analysis. Sh3-1 is only giving us 9% of our hit points. Turning to his trimp scientists, he says, "It seems to me to be worth it."
"Let's," the yellow one nods.
"Shijou," it hands him a note, "It scales badly, but that won't matter for a long time. I think there's a way to undo it before it matters."
"Doing it." The human takes out his pad and starts scanning.
4h29m05s: L14 rand moun 137/26/80 is really good for a lo-hi-med. 4h30m52s: Hotels.
"Ah," the yellow one says, "I knew there was something. That must be it."
5h08m09s: L15 lo-hi-hi rand gard 129/28/82 (just got explorers). 5h09m32s: Picked up Wall.
"Dam," the human says.
"Damn?" the red one chuckles.
"No," the human says, "Earthen wall dam; it's a thing that makes artificial lakes by holding rivers back."
"Lakes?" the yellow one asks, "Rivers?"
"Oh yeah," the human says, "This planet doesn't have enough rain for those..."
5h48m21: Leaving Wall from about c70 to fetch Tion Z15.
"You can't resume the map from the same point if you start another," the human reads the grey one's note.
"We can go back to the same point on that route if we hold there and finish Zone 15, right?" Tightniks asks.
"Shijou!" it seems to be saying yes.
"Yes," the yellow one adds, "but we're out of Series III upgrades, and you need a fresh map route to start up Series IV."
"We should be okay," Tightniks says, "but if we have to start it over, I don't see that being a big deal." As they advance through the rest of Zone 15, Tightniks resumes his usual duties at the research desk instead building and running traps like he was before.
The trimps seem hopeful at this decision.
5h49m10s: Fresh turkimp. 5h50m16s: Zone 16, 1071 pop, 13.4s RC with Z15/75, 13m43s turkimp (skel in c1.)
"Z:16 Seriously? Another Blimp so soon?"
"So," Tightniks lowers his bee nickels and looks at the red one, "is it going to be boss fights at the end of every zone from now on?"
"Hmm," the red trimp looks up past the human at some random rock spire or cloud.
"Well?" the human persists.
"Yup," he says.
"Hmph," Tightniks grabs a Sw3-1 of the rack and advances towards the front, "Before then, we have another Mister Titanium."
"What does he like about skeletimps?" the red one asks the grey one as the human marches off.
"Shijou?" the grey one seems just as confused by that.
"He's not going back to the ship, and he's not getting himself killed," the yellow one smiles, "so I'll take it."
5h58m32s...
"Hey guys, go for the mortar!" the human suggests to his 75 fighting trimps in the Wall's boss fight.
"I can tell from your bedtime stories that you're used to the artillery in that other place," the yellow one gripes, "but fighting works differently here, there's no artillery."
And the human instantly collapses laughing, the scientists a little worried he might have injured himself in the planet's severe gravity. But he's okay, at least physically, "Mortar is the stuff between the bricks, fellas. That's is a brickimp, right?"
5h59m18s: Wall, 1076 pop, 13.3s RC, 1% AP for sub-8h finish, first L16 roll good 156/35/84 moun, 10 for the metal.
Beyond the Wall was a more edenic section of the trimpolis ruins, doubling the production of the lumberjacks. The trimps are actually really happy with the mode of all of the laborers moving between the three big jobs, along with the turkimp, except for the foremen specialized at leading the job. It isn't enough to boost their productivity, but the human goes to them with trays of sandwiches.
6h06m52s: 50 map run 0.3% AP...
6h19m13s: Zone 17, 1141 pop, 16.0s RC with Z16/94, no turkimp.
"Z:17 You climb a large cliff and look out over the new Zone. Red dirt, scorched ground, and devastation. Is that a Dragimp flying around out there?!"
"Hmm," the human surveys the new zone with his bee nickels, "Looks like crap. Any ideas?"
"You're the idea man," the yellow one groans.
"Set the map flag," he puts his bee nickels away, "We'll run a depth for practice and to load up on gems for more hotels."
"Righto," the red one gets to work.
6h44m34s: First DCP. (Draglimp Care Package; I refuse to call it a tribute.)
"Oh," the human says, "It's tame now, so it brings back gems in exchange for food?" He looks at his gaping scientists, "That's what it looks like, huh? Guys? Yo!"
"Tai..." the grey one sighs.
Draglimp, the dragimp imprinted on Tightniks, lands beside the human, drops some gems at his feet, and accepts some scratching behind its horns before diving into the food bowl.
"You tamed a dragimp???" Grey's note says.
"Well," the yellow one huffs, "I guess that happened."
8h18m53s: L20 depth of 154/27/79.
"Mapping up here?" the red one half closes one eye and tilts his head.
"Yeah," the human says while fitting together the depth map fragments, "With the coordination book not right at the end, we have an extra mark of coordination to take advantage of. Let's take our housing up to 2000 or so, shall we?"
"Okay," the yellow one says from a pile of logs, "What's all the wood for?" They had been collecting it for days now.
"The series upgrades follow a rather specific pattern," Tightniks explains, "Just on the other side of this blimp is Zone 21, where we should be able to find the Shield series V, right?"
"Shijou!" the grey one nods.
8h56m17s: 1% AP for 100 map runs, leaving it, 1751 pop, 24.8s RC with Z20/232. 8h56m54s: Zone 21...
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from that."
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes. [Whether it looks like the one in Puchim@s 1x61 is anyone's guess. That one annoyed me as well as Chihya.]
9h02m37s: L21 moun first roll was a decent 160/26/84. 9h21m00s: Starting run 5 of that map...
Tightniks had taken his anger out on some food and wood to build about 8000 traps. Now he's leaning against a rock spire in his increasingly tattered uniform. A nap begins, perhaps unintentionally.
Wild trimps are examining the pile, finding it unwelcoming, and also finding no place in the town, just mill about. It looks like they want to help.
"Ku?" it's a blue trimp, probably a farmer waiting for stuff to grow, climbs up on the rock spire the human is leaning against, starts patting him on the head, "Ku. Ku ku." [Puchim@s Chihya.]
9h23m09s: Still working that lap...
Tightniks wakes up from that nap, and the grey one is standing there. "Shijou," it says with a note of concern, although not much of one. The note it holds says, "It wasn't me."
"Oh, what wasn't you, buddy?" He stretches out a bit, feeling somewhat refreshed. It feels like somebody washed his face and hair while he was sleeping.
The grey one is also holding a small mirror, apparently broken off from a larger mirror and with the sharp edges filed down to make the edges safe.
The human takes it from the grey trimp and holds it in front of his face to discover that somebody has bound up all his hair into about twenty little pigtails. He touches them with his other hand to confirm. "Eh, whatever." He hands the mirror back and goes back to sleep. [Puchim@s Koamimami.]
9h30m08s: The following run...
"He's not throwing stuff every which way yet," the yellow one whispers to the red one, watching the human snoozing with his pad on his knee.
"You remember that, too?" the red one asks.
"'Remember'?" the yellow one turns to face the red one, "I s'pose that's better than imagining it."
"I remember it, too," the grey one says via a playing card sized note.
"If we're stuck in a time loop," the yellow one sighs, "maybe this cycle will be different."
"Tai..." the grey one admires him for a moment. Then thumbs in the direction of the mountain, "Heh, Shijou!" it laughs.
9h35m58s: Run 8, c9 of that map.
The scientists nap and take notes, and meditate and take notes, and draw stuff. The grey one often storyboards for the other nine because it's the best at drawing stuff. They have come up with a list, and most probably "order" (they're debating whether their ranking means "order" (sequence of things happening over the various loops) or "frequency" (what proportion of previous loops they have happened in). But they've come up with this, from first (or perhaps most often) to most recent (or perhaps least often):
- The ship crashes (they're pretty sure that happens every loop) - The human builds huts - The human teaches some of his trimps to speak and do science - The human builds houses - The human makes maps - The human builds mansions - The human blows up and gets himself killed somewhere around Z17 to Z21, often on a dragimp - The human only recently/occasionally builds hotels - The human only recently/rarely tamed a dragimp - The human only recently/rarely maps the Dimension of Anger
They're all agreed that that they have never finished the Dimension of Anger. What they are not all agreed on is that they've never done this conference to figure out whether they're in a time loop or what that might mean. [See also Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Cause and Effect" ...which was sort of a time loop but they weren't going back in time. It's very interesting, but its meta makes no sense - no one ever went looking for the Bozeman in 80 years? No one who went looking for the Bozeman also got stuck? No one noticed the passage of time outside the little area of space where the not-quite-a-time-loop was happening? Errr... sci-fi writers, don't be half-assed about your time loops, lmao! Be like Harold Ramis- ...what am I saying?? (That would be Groundhog Day, which grafted a time loop into a romcom; there are no other sci-fi elements. But it was a full-blown time loop and not half-assed like "Cause and Effect".)]
9h54m06s: Dropped from Z21c95...
I think it would be a bad idea to bypass that green area, as much as I'd rather not face it. Both his domesticated trimps, which are breeding up a new group of fighters, and the wild trimps he has decided just now not to open the traps for, stare at him and point in that direction. He shoulders a huge Shield V-3 and grabs an Mace IV-2 as well and announces, "We're doing it." Thus equipped, he marches off into the Dimension of Anger.
10h27m53s: Taking Pi4-2; recently had taken Pa4-2...
The group at the front had expired, and the snimp in DoAc95 glares at the advancing colony of trimps, which had halted only because of it. It refuses to counterattack the vulnerable colony and its human, instead snorting and huffing, waiting for the next bunch of 232 fighting trimps to come in range.
Tightniks runs along the line of traps, releasing the recently tamed trimps, singing a song that he doesn't remember the meaning of, that he doesn't remember was crafted by an ethnically Chinese guy out of an African language, and later mastered by two caucasians over the internet before they ever met in person. "Baba yetu yetu uliye, mbinguni yetu yetu amina..." because it just happened to be stuck in his head. [Because the Doylian author decided on a whim to. Christopher Tin got it into Civilization IV and at the time (2010 July), I made the best video for it on YouTube, which got subsequently blown to shreds when Peter Hollens and Malukah re-recorded the song from scratch in their own voices and instruments in 2014, pity with no English translation, the purpose of my video.]
Noticing the last batch of metal he needs coming out of the furnace, he waves the waiting grey scientist to fire up the forge [to use the term properly and not as the game does], for it was time to wrap up the forging dies for the Spetum IV, Mark 2 pike heads.
"Shijou!" the grey one cheers, setting aside a snack that looks like maybe ramen, and starts jumping up and down on the bellows handle.
It takes a while for the human to chip out the tip in the two halves of the forging die, and then polish it, and then heat it up in the forge, and then quench it, inspect it, and put it into service crafting thousands of new pike heads for the fighting trimps.
But only one second passed on the map frame clock (10h27m54s) four cells behind that snimp, in the case being brooded over by this huge, and if it's honest, rather concerned megablimp.
10h35m45: Portal PB, 45 He, 4.247 He/hr, 1891 pop, 22.7s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' mace heads bounces of it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All ten of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Mace IV, Mark 3 with both hands and gets it over his shoulder, its target obviously this object, anger at the realization he screams at the top of his lungs, "We are stuck in a mutha FAH-king time loop!!" His swing begins. [Tightniks almost never cusses, unlike Snugniks.]

By popular demand, I guess...
I was kinda just being a smart-ass, but some of you wanted more so here it is: epilogues for every NPC as if they didn't continue to travel with Gorion's Ward and instead just decided to live their own life. Obviously, there are some implied alignment changes here.
This turned out to be longer than I expected and I kinda just threw it all together while I was working. Please excuse any typos or sloppy writing.
I want to apologize for one thing, though. Viconia's epilogue really only works if GW is a male, so I had to make that assumption for the sake of her story. If it matters any, I easily play just as many female GWs as I do male GWs. In fact, I probably play more female GWs because I don't care for the romances, frequently play the canon party, and want to nip the lame Jah romance in the bud.
But, to have them all in one place, I included my original smart-ass epilogues with the additional ones I created. Now, every character from BG1 and BG2 has an epilogue. I don't have the EE characters, though, because I play the original games and don't really know them.
So, just for funsies, which one is your favorite and why?
"Anomen continued to wait at the Copper Coronet for a party of adventurers willing to travel with him. Maybe it was the grating sound of his voice, or perhaps the way he leered at women, but he continued to remain alone. Eventually, he needed to find work to make ends meet. With Gorion's Ward having disbanded the slave traders and pit fights, Hendak had to find a new form of entertainment for the patrons. As such, he invented an all male review ladies night, and Anomen found work as a 'dancer'. He left the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart to join the less noble order of the pole. He also renounced his faith to Helm and instead allied himself with Waukeen because if you wanna see some groin, you gotta have some coin."
"Despite Gorion's Ward clearing the trolls from her keep, Nalia was not able to reclaim her lands and instead lost her estate to Lord Roenall. The lord offered to let her retain residence in her family's ancestral home, but only in exchange for her hand in marriage. Nalia found the proposition to be repugnant. Instead, she salvaged whatever wealth she could from her family's keep and moved to Athkatla to start a new life. She no longer helped the less fortunate, as she was now among their numbers and had her own problems. Nalia's lack of any practical skills combined with her sense of entitlement sent her into a life of failure followed by drinking and debauchery. She now spends more time back at the Copper Coronet than anywhere else. It is hard to say where she squanders her wealth more, the alcohol, or on the dancers during Ladies Night."
"After the incident with the Planar Sphere, Valygar was finally free of his past, could retire to his cabin, and pursue his true passion: writing. Ironically, the only inspiration he found ended up stemming from his family's checkered past. Valygar's only works that even had middling success were 'Tuesdays with Lavok' and 'Dude, Where's My Planar Sphere', with the latter being made into a production at the Five Flagoons Theater."
"Haer'Dalis continued to work as a performer at the Five Flagoons Theater. Unfortunately, it struggled due to poor management. It might have turned out better if an outside agent with fresh ideas had stepped in, but Gorion's Ward had better things to do than be a bard. While the work was generally steady, the returns were not great and the material was a little low-brow for Haer'Dalis' liking. The tiefling realized he reached rock bottom when he was cast as the lead in a play about a buffoon who apparently lost a plane-shifting apparatus the size of a small castle and had to find it before his parents returned from Neverwinter. After the opening night, he took his own life in his dressing room. His body was found the next morning with a note saying, 'Art is dead and I am art, so I shall join art in death.' Biff the Understudy stepped in for Haer'Dalis despite never having an opportunity to read the script. Nevertheless, the production was a resounding success and launched Biff's career to new heights."
“A heartbroken Garrick found work as a character actor at the Five Flagoons Theater, but eventually gained more success as a writer and director. He found it to be a mostly agreeable situation, aside from a tiefling primadonna who would constantly belittle his work and call it ”trite" and “drivel”. Fortunately, that situation worked itself out in time and Garrick found Biff to be much easier to direct. With the tiefling gone, his ideas had room to grow. He invented a new kind of love story, one where the protagonist doesn't always get the girl at the end but the journey to that ending would be quite amusing. He labeled this genre “the Comedy of Romance” and the works were mostly based on his own life. His plays were quite popular among the commoners, with his top selling shows being 'Sleepless in Saradush', 'Silverymoon Linings Playbook', and 'Crazy Rich Aasimars'. He eventually fully transitioned off the stage into the director's chair. By the peak of his fame, he was married to none other than Queen Ellesime."
“Aerie continued to work at the circus and WOULD NOT SHUT UP ABOUT HER DAMN WINGS. Even Quayle eventually grew sick of hearing about it. This put strain on their relationship. Things took a turn for the better when Ribald Barterman acquired a new curiosity for his shop. It was a magical ring which he sold to Quayle at a reduced rate out of sympathy. This ”treasure" was actually a cursed Ring of Deafness, which Quayle found to be anything but a curse and wore it for the rest of his days."
“Xzar and Montaron were both slain at the hands of the Athkatla Harpers, but this is actually where their story begins. Xzar, as he had done so many times before, had a backup plan of an arcane nature should death befall either he or the halfling. Their mortal essences were pulled to a pocket plane he created. There they could be channeled into restored bodies cloned at his estate. With this particular round of ritual, Xzar had incidentally made a slight error in the incantation and the two found themselves in a time suspended state in Xzar's pocket plane. It was only five minutes for the rest of the world, but it was fifty years for them. This turned out to be a pivot point in their relationship. Having only each other's company in this shadowy void, they were finally able to work out their feelings for each other. When they had returned to the prime material plane, they discovered their mutual animosity was replaced with love. Rather than pick up their life where they left off with the Zhentarim, they decided to pack it all in, moved to Bryn Shander, and start a bed and breakfast. Montaron rediscovered his halfling roots and love for the culinary arts while Xzar would perform seances to connect guests with their late loved ones. Scones and Bones became an overnight success and was consistently listed as a “must see” in Volo's travel guides. In their golden years, the couple co-wrote a memoir of their journey, ‘Brokeback Montaron’, which is sold in bookstores everywhere."
“After briefly crossing paths with Gorion's Ward, Mazzy Fentan continued her crusade as a de facto halfling paladin. She eventually found herself petitioning for membership at the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart in Athkatla after she had singlehandedly saved a village from an ancient dracolich. Despite the extent of her virtue and accomplishment, her petition was denied on the basis that halflings could not possibly be real paladins. This inspired her next crusade, one to break down vocational barriers for all demihuman races. Why couldn't halflings be paladins or dwarves be wizards? And why did gnomes always have to be illusionists? It simply made no goddamn sense. She began to get traction with her quest when she attended lectures by the wizards of the (sword) coast in Candlekeep. With their help, she ushered Faerun into a new edition era where there would be no vocational barriers for adventurers based on their race. Soon, the world began to see roguish halflings that also venerated Helm, while tending to the wilds as a druid. Half-orc bards also studied as wizards while manifesting natural arcane abilities as sorcerers. Tiefling paladins took their crusades to the wilderness and served as rangers, while sidelining as clergy to Mystra. The world was now a liberated place, free to not make any goddamn sense in a myriad of new ways. At one point, Lady Mazzy Fentan of Trademeet (now formally a paladin) crossed paths with a dwarven shadowdancebard and in that moment she regretted everything. Seriously, just take a moment and picture that. It would look fucking ridiculous.”
“Yeslick's clanhome was flooded once again. Despondent and without options, he took work at a smithy in Baldur's Gate but never stopped dreaming of finding both a clan and a home. He found a way to bring this dream to life after a courageous halfling paladin broke down the barriers for, among other things, dwarves to be wizards. Yeslick had an idea. He studied magic diligently until he was able to cast two spells of great importance: Water Breathing and Permanence. He then searched the lands for other clanless dwarves who would be willing to try something new. With the new clan he formed, Yeslick permanently gave all his fellow clansman the ability to breath underwater. They then moved into the flooded Cloakwood Mines and built the first underwater dwarven stronghold. Using his arcane powers, Yeslick also developed the ability to speak with the marine life that shared this stronghold. And, with that, the clan Aquadwarf was born. At one point, Valygar visited and wrote a play based on Yeslick's story. However, he couldn't even get it to stage at the Five Flagoons Theater. The illustrious director Garrick was quoted as saying, “A hero that can breath underwater and talk to fish? Nobody would go for that!"
“Keldorn finally retired from the Most Noble Order of the Radiant Heart and looked forward to a much simpler life. He rekindled his marriage with Lady Maria and life seemed to improve. It was rather early on when the couple discovered that Maria had become pregnant again. It was also not long after that when Peony, the housekeeper, also became pregnant. Maria started to ask Keldorn about this, but Keldorn started to get defensive and asked, ”Hey, who's the Inquisitor here?" Then Keldorn started to do the math with her to track the conception of Maria's pregnancy. She certainly did not want him to get to the end of that equation, so she quickly changed the subject. She suggested getting a new maid, but Keldorn chastised her for abandoning someone in their time of need who had been like family for years. He forbade Peony's departure claiming that his god, Torm, would not stand for it. Maria then made a passive aggressive comment about Torm being the god of loyalty, but she was mostly just muttering under her breath to get the last word in. Eventually, both children were born and had probably the most awkward upbringing of anyone in Faerun."
“After Gorion's Ward helped Coran take down a wyvern, the rogue brought the beast's head back to the mayor of Beregost for the reward and accolades. He thought this put him in a position to be a hero of great renown and perhaps, just maybe, people would stop mocking him for his flashy attire and completely superfluous eye mask. They didn't. He only gained acceptance when he crossed paths with a ranger who seemed indifferent towards Coran's keen fashion sense. Coran traveled the Sword Coast with his ranger sidekick, righting the wrongs against the ‘little guy’ and taking the law into their own hands when needed. This partnership dissolved when he discovered that the ranger thought Coran was the sidekick. As if! Coran tried to correct the ranger, whose argument was, 'Really, man, if that outfit doesn't scream sidekick then I'm Elminster's twin brother.' The ranger was not related to Elminster and shared no resemblance.
“Kivan never was able to get his revenge on Tazok. Unbeknownst to him, that honor was taken by Gorion's Ward. His thirst for vengeance continued to eat away at him until he found himself in a bat infested cave in the wilderness. It was then he snapped. He turned the cave into his secret hideaway, put together a disguise and started wandering the sword coast looking for evil-doers to punish. He would leave his calling card wherever he saved the day, a token of a bat with longer ears like an elf. And bats already had rather long ears so these bat ears were almost comically obtrusive. Nevertheless, his deeds were generally appreciated and the people stared calling him Bat-elf. For a short spell, another elf tagged along with him and tried to help, but he was so flamboyantly dressed that one could pick his sidekick out of the shadows blindfolded. Kivan eventually had to send him on his way. Unfortunately, his vigilante crusade abruptly ended after receiving a cease and decist order from DC Comics. Kivan could fight both monster and marauder all day, but his 14 Constitution wouldn't hold up against a lawsuit for trademark infringement.”
“Skie was deeply affected by both the death of her brother and the assassination of her father. And yes, her father was actually murdered and didn't lol-jk back to life in some crappy DLC. In any event, through these traumas, she came to realize the puerility of what she thought was her brilliant criminal masterminding. Instead, she decided to settle down and live a more responsible life as an upstanding citizen of Baldur's Gate. She took the reins of her father's estate after his death and rose to prominence as one of the Grand Dukes of the city. She maintained her relationship with Eldoth for quite some time, inexplicably, as he refused to get a job because he didn't want to take attention from his band which he swore was going to make it. However, the bard spent most of the day either lounging at Skie’s estate or gambling away his allowance with games of three-dragon-ante at the Helm and Cloak. Eventually, inspired by the book “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar," she decided to call it quits with Eldoth and sent him packing. Shortly thereafter, she met a man who was nothing like Eldoth and they settled down together to start a family."
“Eldoth's dreams of being a world-famous musician fronting the greatest band in Faerun never reached fruition. This was partly because he didn't actually have a band and partly because he didn't have the talent to write music. Instead, he just had a lute he purchased at Lucky Aello's Discount Store that only had one A-string and was missing the E-string. Also, Eldoth could only play power chords and he couldn't really sing and play at the same time. Most of the time he would just strum a chord or two and then talk about what the song would do next, often describing a solo and half playing it on an ”air lute" (while he was still holding an actual lute, mind you) to give people the idea as to how the song would sound when it was finally written. Yeah, he was one of those guys. After Skie kicked him to the curb, he bounced between various barmaids who clearly had low self-esteem, but not low enough to keep him around for long. Eventually, he got one of them pregnant and was forced into a shotgun wedding by the barmaid's father. He now works in the kitchen at the same inn as his barmaid wife. She helps the customers up front and he cooks eggs in the back. Eldoth continues to tell himself that this experience will just provide inspiration for his music and that someday he was going to get the band back together."
“After being rescued by Gorion's Ward, Xan made his way to Baldur's Gate to regroup. He spent an inordinate amount of time beating himself up over his failures and trying to muster the gumption to continue his quest to unravel the political turmoil of the region. However, it took him months to get to this point, and by that time, Gorion's Ward already sorted out the problems in the region. Discovering this, he deemed himself a failure yet again and sunk into a deeper depression. He pulled himself out of it when he met a woman who lost most of her family to violent deaths during the iron crisis, yet she still kept herself together and became a local success in a few short years. Xan immediately fell in love with the recently single Skie Silvershield and began to court her. They eventually married and started a family. At Xan's insistence, and inspired by his wife's name, their two daughters were named Sunshine and Rainbow. Xan was a staunch supporter of his wife's career and stayed home to raise the kids. When they were older and needed less attending, he followed a new dream and became a motivational speaker.”
“Korgan had his revenge against his backstabbing crew and employer, but he felt...empty. It was done, but he felt no satisfaction. Disgruntled and disappointed, he decided to lose himself in his cups at the Copper Coronet. Even this did nothing to alleviate his malaise. One night, having passed out drunk in a peasant room at the Copper Coronet, he dreamt of that final fight but something was different. In the background of the battle, there was a glow coming from the door of a shack and he heard the whispering of a language that sounded like it was from Kara-Tur. When he woke the next morning, Korgan returned to the rooftop and found the shack from his dream. He knocked and was greeted by a priest of Illmater. Korgan told the priest of his dream and he was led into the backroom where he found a man from Kara-Tur infirm and huddled over a cup of tea. The priest explained that he had just reincarnated this man of the faith using a heart delivered by a passing adventurer. Korgan took this as a sign, converted to the faith, and the two paired up to help those in suffering as a result of the schemes of others. The tales of Korgan and Yoshimo were not only told in many of a tavern by the bards, but also collected in graphic serials that were popular among the children of Athkatla.”
“Ajantis' death sent him into an afterlife at Everwatch, the realm of Helm. For his honor and diligence, the devout knight was granted an audience with his patron. Ajantis then told Helm what utter bullshit the god was. I mean, c'mon, he's the god of protection, the Vigilant One, and he couldn't protect a group of knights from a dragon's cheap illusion spell that a mage even tried to dispel with True Sight? It was like Helm wasn't even trying. Helm was stunned by the confrontation but also had no valid defense. Ajantis called Helm to a trial that was mediated by Tyr. After careful deliberation, Tyr determined that Helm was sleeping on the job and the judgment was to demote him to a lesser deity. Now, Helm was the patron of guards, but not actual guards that ever see action, just the ceremonial ones whose weapons and armor are super shiny and probably not even real. Ajantis was then granted Helm's old portfolio and became a god that truly protected his followers.”
“Viconia left Athkatla's government district perplexed. She was rescued from burning at the stake by Gorion's Ward and then immediately dismissed. She found this to be unusual behavior for a male. She was accustomed to men either trying to bed her or kill her, but this casual indifference was completely new. Viconia came to be obsessed with Gorion's Ward from a distance. She spiraled into a fantasy where the two of them had a future together. It was pretty bad. There were some extremely embarrassing vision boards involved and that wasn't even the worst of it. When her mania reached critical mass, her obsession actually collapsed and she had an epiphany. She came to realize that she did not need this man, or any for that matter. She started on a journey of self discovery and took a moral inventory of her past relationships. She wrote about it in the book, “Men Are From Menzoberranzan, Women Are From Immilmar”. She then used the revenue from the book sales to open Athkatla's first feminist bookstore. In Her Words became a mecca for women, particularly those who felt trapped in bad relationships. The community that emerged here created the group, Friends of Galia, which strove to free women from abusive relationships. Eventually, the bookstore expanded to include an apartment block above that became a shelter for such women. Occasionally, the partners of these victims would come around to In Her Words in an attempt to drag their partners back home. You can probably guess how a confrontation between a drunken 0-level commoner and a Drow priestess of Shar ends."
“Faldorn was defeated by Jaheira in Trademeet and lost her title of Arch-Druid. In truth, she was relieved to be relieved of the position. Years of pushing forward the Shadow Druid agenda led Faldorn to realize that she had lost touch with the real Faldorn along the way. After some soul-searching, she reinvented herself as a lifestyle guru and developed an entire line of organic health and beauty products under the name, She-Wolf. Both her products and seminars were all the rage in Athkatla, specifically among noblewomen who clearly had too much free time. Faldorn eventually gave up her residence in natural environs for a lavish estate in Athkatla's government district. Her following soon pressured her to petition to join the Council of Six after the fall of the Cowled Wizards left the position open (aside from a short-term replacement). Her petition was a success and she soon found herself on the Council of Six. Under her leadership, she created created the FDAA, the Food and Drink Association of Athkatla. Now, instead of draconian rules governing magic in the city, equally restrictive rules and standards were applied to the food and drink that the people consumed.”
“Barely surviving being gravely wounded by Irenicus, Tiax left Spellhold for Athkatla where he intended to do what he did best: rule. Learning from his past campaign mistakes in Baldur's Gate, he changed his slogan from ”Tiax Rules!" to “Make Athkatla Great Again”. Of course, what he thought would make Athkatla great was putting himself in charge as a despotic leader. But, he toned down that aspect of his platform and instead focused on the history of scheming and backroom dealing of the Cowled Wizards (as if he was any less evil or scheming) and promised the people he would be different than all the other corrupt politicians. Miraculously, despite his obviously apparent character flaws, he succeeded in replacing the Cowled Wizards' representative on the Council of Six. He decided to take their stance on restrictive magic to the next level and banned magic entirely. Since he didn't study the arcane himself, it was no skin of his nose. This move undermined his support base leaving him with only the most backwards and ignorant followers. He was ultimately removed from his position when he insisted the city build a wall around the planar sphere and was expecting that the city's wizards would be the ones to pay for it. After his removal, his few remaining extreme supporters organized an invasion of the main government building under the guise of freedom of assembly. All nine of these “rebels” were rounded up, tried, and sent to prison. Tiax was convicted of treason and reincarnated in Spellhold, which was now just a common prison. After his eventual release, he was prohibited from seeking any position of power in Amn."
"Edwin Odesseiron continued to lay low with the Shadow Thieves for a while. The Cowled Wizards suffered a crippling blow as a side effect of the conflict between Gorion's Ward and Irenicus. Edwin decided to step in and finish the job. His thought was that he could wipe out the Cowled Wizard remnants and then take credit for their defeat, thereby gaining him more clout among the Red Wizards of Thay. After many conspicuous mage battles in the streets of Athkatla, he succeeded. However, the people who noticed his efforts the most were actually the people of Athkatla. They were tired of living under the Cowled Wizards' iron fist and Edwin was lauded as a liberator and hero. He even had a statue in his image raised in Waukeen's Promenade. Edwin was initially nonplussed over people finally giving him the credit he always felt he so rightfully deserved. But, he quickly came to accept their praise and bought in to being a champion for the people. Edwin continued his agenda of liberation when a clearly insane gnome who found his way on the Council of Six tried to ban magic entirely in the city. Edwin and his followers were primarily responsible for having the madman removed from his seat.
“Shar-Teel, Safana, Branwen, and Alora all happened to cross paths with each other at Elfsong one evening. Shar-Teel was looking to fight a man, Safana was looking to shag a man, Branwen was recently petrified by a man, and Alora was just excited to be somewhere new. The four got to talking with each other and, despite having wildly different personalities, seemed to hit it off. Shar-Teel was sarcastic and aggressive, Safana was self-absorbed and man-hungry, Alora was kind and sweet, and Branwen was the matriarch of the group. You wouldn't think this lot would get along, but they actually did, and their differences merely become the fuel for innocuous hi-jinks week after week.”
"With Gorion's Ward's help, Cernd was able to rescue his child that he then abandoned again at the druid grove near Trademeet. He promised that he would return to raise the child, he just needed to run to the general shop in Trademeet for some pipeweed. He never returned, but that was pretty obvious since he didn’t even smoke. Cernd continued to wander Faerun. It came to light in Cormyr that Cernd had actually married, and had children, with numerous women in Cormyr, Amn, the Sword Coast, Tethyr, Calimshan, Turmish, Halruaa, Icewind Dale, Chondath, Sembia, Impiltur, the Silver Marches, and even the Troll Hills (don't ask). Furthermore, it was discovered that Cernd was not actually a druid, just a werewolf that had a Ring of Goodberries. The druid con was so that he could have a reason to abandon his wives and children and move on to a new situation. You would be surprised at how many women could fall for a guy that can conjure an impromptu picnic in the park. Unfortunately for Cernd, Cormyr was not the kind of place to run afoul of the legal system. For the crime of bigamy, he was sentenced to life in prison. He never set foot near a druid grove again, but he was allowed to participate in a work-release program tending to the gardens of nobles.
“Kagain returned to his shop and grew even more bitter, but not over what the death of Entar Silvershield's son had done to his reputation and business. Instead, he resented that even the Enhanced Edition of the game didn't give him a remotely decent companion quest. By Moradin's hammer, Cernd even had a pretty involved companion quest and the story there both starts and ends with a deadbeat dad! Also, Kagain can regenerate! Korgan can't even do that. And another thing! He was sick of people confusing the two of them as if all dwarves look alike or something. Ok, granted, they're both old dwarves with greying beards, but Korgan's beard is tied while Kagain's beard is brushed out. Of course, none of this made sense to anyone, even to Kagain who never actually crossed paths with Cernd or Korgan. However, the dwarf had nothing to do with his time except stand in his shop, isolated and alone, until he was done in by insanity and plantar fasciitis.”
“The death of Khalid shook Jaheira to the core. She convinced herself that she could never love again, certainly not so soon after his death nor with anyone that would be a child in her eyes. That would be absurd and rather tacky. After her escape from Irenicus' prison and deposing Faldorn from the druid grove, she took over as Arch-Druid. Being a Harper just wouldn't be the same without Khalid. However, the grove would allow her to explore a new, but comfortingly familiar, phase of life. She had barely been installed as the Arch-Druid when Cernd dropped off his child and disappeared again. He did not even stay long enough to tell Jaheira the child's name. Knowing he would likely not return, she named the child Khalid after her lost love. Realizing there were other children our there without families to care for them, Jahaeira would send her subordinates to wander nearby lands and bring them to the grove for a better life. Perhaps not surprisingly, many of these children happened to be Cernd's. She eventually renamed the grove to Kinder Garden in honor of the grove's new purpose of giving these children a kinder upbringing. Jaheira's headstrong personality served her well with these lost children, who all loved her as they would any mother. The Kinder Garden became the most thriving druid grove in all of Faerun. Jaheira eventually died in 1547 DR, with hundreds of children haven been rescued in her lifetime, and a memorial was erected in her honor at the grove. The inscription read, 'Nature's Servant Awaits.'"
“After being freed from Irenicus' dungeon, Minsc put his boots on the ground at the Copper Coronet. Being the simple man that he was, he found himself unwittingly recruited into fighting in the gladiator pits (before Gorion's Ward was able to free the slaves). Yet again, Minsc took a blow to the head. But this time, its effects were something completely new. No longer was he the slow-witted evil-slaying ranger, armed to the teeth and packing a hamster. Instead, his intelligence and wisdom started to blossom and he explored, through dissertation, the impact of modern civilization on the overall ecosystem of Faerun. Indeed, before Minsc started his work, the people of Faerun didn't even have the concept of an ”ecosystem". He left Athkatla to pursue a residency at Jaheira's grove where he could study and work in peace. He published works like, “The Intersection of Geopolitics and Biodiversity: Living More but Dying Sooner”, “The Essential Symbiosis Between the Savage and Civilization”, and “Moral Urbanization: Seeking a More Comprehensive Prosperity”. Minsc continued his studies and writing and ultimately produced enough groundbreaking works to have his own annex in Candlekeep. It was shortly after the dedication of this annex that Minsc disappeared from Faerun, never to be seen again."
“Jan Jansen's fate was the most impressive of all as his endeavors shaped the very fabric of Faerun for centuries to come. His story truly serves as a moral lesson for everyone and we should heed its virtue quite seriously. Helping Lissa and Jaella planted a seed of regret in Lissa with regards to her marriage to Vaelag. Speaking of seeds, this reminds Jan of a time when he was helping his Uncle Scratchy with his turnip farm. However, Uncle Scratchy was hoodwinked and the seeds he received were actually purple carrot seeds. You can imagine Uncle Scratchy's surprise when they sprouted and he suddenly had a field of purple carrots. Well, as you probably know, you can't make turnip stew, or turnip casserole, or turnip pie with purple carrots. But it just so happened there was a mage tower nearby and the resident mage needed a vast number of carrots. Apparently, her plan was to animate them as a kind of vegetable army to combat a myconid infestation in cave system rather close to her tower. Of course, animated carrots are quite self-assured and were immune to myconoid's confusion spores. Anyway, Jan had a once-removed cousin, Bobil, that was lost in those caves when he was a young gnome. He had wandered so deep that he found himself in the den of a solitary xvart who was obsessed with a magic ring. Bobil happened to purloin that ring but it turned out to not be magic at all. However, it was still worth enough for Bobil to buy himself a nice cottage in Trademeet. He then started his own turnip farm and had better luck than Uncle Scratchy. Wait, what were we talking about, again?”
“Boo continued his mission to study the sentient life forms of Faerun and determine their potential impact on the metaverse. He preferred the continued company of Minsc due to the ranger's kindness and protectiveness. Boo found this to be quite valuable in his current miniaturized state. Even after Minsc's accident, where his intellect began to expand, Minsc never lost his good heart and inherent kindness and the two remained the best of friends. It was a number of years later that the term of Boo's mission was complete. A team of his fellow people arrived on a spelljammer to collect the giant miniaturized space hamster. Minsc (and Boo) were on a retreat in a remote part of the Neverwinter Wood when a vessel shaped like a giant acorn landed in a nearby clearing. A number of human-sized anthropomorphic hamster-like beings, who called themselves the Ysoki, emerged and met with Boo. One had a strange crystalline device which it used to restore Boo to his proper size. Minsc naturally remained composed while all this was happening. He and Boo talked often and he knew this day would be coming. Boo returned to the spelljammer with his brethren to debrief on the mission. The Ysoki wanted to bring a sample back to their homeworld for further learning and study. Boo offered Minsc for the task, as the exemplar human would fit in nicely with the Ysoki's advanced culture and society. Everyone was in agreement and made the offer to the ranger. Minsc felt like he had made every contribution he could to the people of Faerun, so he accepted and boarded the ship. Boo, excited to finally be on a spelljammer again, took the helm and plotted a course for his homeworld. At his side sat his friend and faithful companion, Minsc.”

Last week, General Motors announced that it would end production of the Chevrolet Malibu, which the company first introduced in 1964. Although not exactly a head turner (the Malibu was “so uncool, it was cool,” declared the New York Times), the sedan has become an American fixture, even an icon, appearing in classic films like Say Anything and Pulp Fiction. Over the past 60 years, GM produced some 10 million of them.
With a price starting at a (relatively) affordable $25,100, Malibu sales exceeded 130,000 vehicles last year, a 13% annual increase and enough to rank as the #3 Chevy model, behind only the Silverado and the Equinox. Still, that wasn’t enough to keep the car off GM’s chopping block. The company says that the last Malibu will roll out of its Kansas City, KS, factory this November; the plant will then be retooled to produce the new Chevy Bolt, an electric crossover SUV.
With the Malibu’s demise, GM will no longer sell any sedans in the U.S. In that regard, it will have plenty of company. Ford stopped producing sedans for the U.S. market in 2018. And it was Sergio Marchionne, the former head of Stellantis, who triggered the headlong retreat in 2016 when he declared that Dodge and Chrysler would stop making sedans. (Tesla, meanwhile, offers two sedans: the Model 3 and Model S.)
As recently as 2009, U.S. passenger cars (including sedans and a plunging number of station wagons) outsold light trucks (SUVs, pickups, and minivans), but today they’re less then 20% of new car purchases. The death of the Malibu is confirmation, if anyone still needs it, that the Big Three are done building sedans. That decision is bad news for road users, the environment, and budget-conscious consumers—and it may ultimately come around to bite Detroit.
When asked, automakers are quick to blame the sedan’s decline on shifting consumer preferences. Americans simply want bigger cars, the story goes, and there’s some truth to it. Compared to sedans, many SUV and pickup models provide extra cargo space and give the driver more visibility on the highway. In a crash, those inside a heavier car have a better chance of escaping without injury—although the same can’t be said for pedestrians or those in other vehicles. (That discrepancy inspired a headline in The Onion: “Conscientious SUV Shopper Just Wants Something That Will Kill Family In Other Car In Case Of Accident.”)
This narrative of the market’s dispassionate invisible hand tossing the sedan aside holds intuitive appeal, but it leaves gaping holes. For one thing, federal policy has, in many ways, ]distorted the car market to favor larger vehicles](https://www.vox.com/future-perfect/24139147/suvs-trucks-popularity-federal-policy-pollution). Fuel economy regulations, for instance, are more lenient for SUVs and pickups than they are for smaller cars, nudging automakers to produce more of the former and fewer of the latter. Another egregious example: Small business owners such as real estate agents can save thousands of dollars by writing off the cost of their vehicle—but only if it weighs more than 6,000 pounds, a stipulation that effectively excludes sedans entirely.
Carmakers, for their part, powerfully influence consumer demand through billions of dollars spent on advertising. Because SUVs and pickups are more expensive and profitable than sedans, manufacturers have a clear incentive to tilt buying decisions away from small cars and toward larger ones (which helps explain ad campaigns designed to confer an undeserved green halo on SUVs).
Even those who don’t want a big car may feel pressure to upsize, if only to avoid being at a disadvantage in a crash or when trying to see what lies ahead on the road. Such people find themselves trapped in a prisoner’s dilemma, preferring that everyone had smaller cars, but resigning themselves to buying an SUV or pickup since others already have them.
For all these reasons, modest-size sedans like the Malibu are disappearing from American streets, supplanted by SUVs and pickups that seem to grow bulkier with every model refresh. (The Chevy Bolts produced at GM’s Kansas plant will be bigger than the previous Bolt model, which was retired last year.) This pattern of ongoing vehicle expansion, a trend I call car bloat, is especially advanced in North America, but it’s visible worldwide. In 2022, SUVs alone comprised 46% of global car sales, up from 20% a decade earlier.
From a societal perspective, the decline of the sedan is a disaster. Consider road safety, an area where the U.S. underperforms compared to the rest of the rich world, especially for pedestrians and cyclists (deaths for both recently hit 40-year highs). Larger cars have bigger blind spots, convey more force in a collision, and tend to strike a person’s torso rather than their legs. They’re also heavier, with propulsion systems that guzzle more gasoline (or electrons) to move, producing more pollution in the process. Their weight also catalyzes the erosion of tires and roads, spewing microscopic particles that can damage human health as well as aquatic ecosystems.
Despite the myriad problems of car bloat, the federal government has taken no steps to restrain it. In the absence of regulations or taxes, carmakers have ample reason to abandon their sedan models in favor of SUVs and trucks. The higher margins of larger cars is especially precious now, as the Big Three scrabble for money to invest in electrification and autonomous technology, as well as to pay for the rising costs of wages and benefits that they agreed to last fall during negotiations with the United Auto Workers.
Realistically, it would be a Herculean task to pivot back toward selling small cars, even if American automakers wanted to. Although adept at selling high-priced, feature-laden SUVs and trucks, they’re far less experienced at the low-margin, high volume business of producing cheaper small cars. That is one reason (though hardly the only one) that China’s booming market for EVs, including many modest-size and affordable models, is sowing fear throughout Detroit—and in Washington, too.
Where does the shift from sedans toward SUVs and trucks leave everyday Americans? With a strained wallet, for one thing. With its MSRP starting at $25,100 the Malibu has been one of the most affordable U.S.-produced cars, costing barely half as much as the average new vehicle, which exceeded $47,000 in February (the Malibu is also at least a few thousand dollars cheaper than the Bolt that will replace it at the Kansas factory).
Especially when factoring in higher interest rates and spiking insurance premiums, cars are becoming a financial strain for many Americans. According to the federal Bureau of Transportation Statistics, the average annual, inflation-adjusted cost of owning a vehicle and driving it 15,000 miles hit $12,182 in 2023, an increase of over 30% in just six years.
Over time, the elimination of sedans leaves the Big Three vulnerable if consumer preferences shift away from enormity. “Legacy car companies haven’t done a great job of thinking long term,” said Alex Roy, a cohost of the Autonocast podcast. “Gutting lineups is probably good for manufacturing efficiency, but not having one vehicle in a given product segment is short-sighted.”
Due to sprawled development patterns and woefully underfunded transit, many American families will still want a car even as they become more expensive. But, as I argued previously in Fast Company, a surge in vehicle prices could compel some households to swap a second or third car for a minicar or e-cargo bike that offers limited range, but costs only a fraction as much. Already, golf carts are popping up in places far removed from the retirement and beach communities where they have been a mainstay: In New Orleans, they’ve become so popular that the city is adopting new ordinances.
With the Malibu’s death, is clearer than ever that Detroit has abandoned the affordable sedan. They may yet live to regret it.

The voices mingled around me. Some loud, some soft, some weeping while others waited in stoic silence. The lodge anxiously waiting as the last rays of sunlight flit through the bay window. The wall of stacked cars and stone lights up like fairy lights upon a wall, revealing the weaknesses of our fragile defenses. And beyond the glass stood thousands of faces, watching the last rays of light sink beyond the horizon, beyond the walls that we called hope.
The room grew quiet. A whimper was stifled from the wall as the sun gave way to the stars. Their light poking holes in the sky like the sun had revealed our defenses flaws. A flask popped open followed by several large gulps. I can't fault you. The sword on my back grows warm and her hand touches my arm. Her long, blonde braid falls past her shoulder as she turns to me. To look at me and see me. Gosh, how can she know me so well. Her hand slides down my arm and into my shaking hand.
She brings it to her lips and tenderly kisses my knuckles, even the sunken ones. "The sun has surrendered," and pulls my hand to her chest, "you are now the light that must lead us, my love."
Her fingers interlace with mine, stealing the tremble hidden upon their tips with a squeeze. That tremble climbing up my arm to escape out of my lungs at my next breath. "We can only be hammered for so long before we have to be quenched, I guess." A small, but playful smile breaks her somber face. She pulls me closer to her and presses her forehead to mine. In that small moment, the heat of her breath, the scent of her; from the moment she held me and handed me the star blade to now, she has been my light.
A small and stifled sob escapes her lips, for as she has by my beacon, I have tried to be her anchor. In our journey these last years, she has loved and feared, celebrated and cried, and we have grown. "You must be light that leads us." Her tears stain the dark wood at our feet and the tremble in her body transfers to me in at the touch of our skin.
"I must and I will." Raising her hands to my lips, returning the tender kiss she gave to me.
Turning to face the table before me, only a few are looking at what had been a private moment between her and I. The rest continue to look to where the light once had been. The heat on my back beckoned me, telling me what to do. To touch the pommel of the sword like the Forever King had done before. It was swift, but the rush of power flooded me at the embrace of my palm around the hammered piece of metal.
"So the night comes and we are like fresh pieces of paper watching spilt ink spread before us."
Eyes turn to me. Hone in on me. While still holding her hand, I turn to the west and the setting sun.
"This night, this darkness has had a long time coming and now we finally face it." Pointing at the last rays of sunlight that fade into twilight. In those last remnants of light, I can see the heads of thousands look around. Some in fear and some in confusion. The power continues to flood my body and I let go of the pommel of my sword.
Marching away from the table and to the wooden door of the lodge, my voice carries. "This story that has held us in our youth, in our entertainment, has now filled our very lives." The door glides open and I stride out, marching towards the eastern wall. A few eyes around the lodge turn towards me. My arms shake themselves out of habit, releasing tension stored within.
"Now we write the last chapters of this very war," the growl surprises me, as people step aside to let me through. There are few faces that I recognize, but the ones that I do now recognize the position I hold. The star blade upon my back now emitting a soft glow. "One more story to add to the eternal narrative that is sung among the stars."
More eyes, more faces turn to me as my voice reaches out to the gathered forces within our last bastion. My path is set and made clear in the divide of the people around me. Leading me towards the wall; towards the erected tower with an emerald, green flag and shining white sword flying in the wind above it.
"So let out story be a ballad, instead of paper waiting for someone else to write upon." The sky grows ever darker, and the twilight that normally sits around quickly is swallowed up by the oncoming night. Someone rings a bell, the warning bell. A haunting gong that sends shivers up and down my spine. They're here. Panicked voices fills the edges of the field as the chiming rings across the fortress. Men and woman rush to the walls, some armed with modern weaponry. Others with forged ones taking positions up along the wall.
Each step I take closer to the wall, my voice gets a little louder. "Let us sing, let us sing the song of the free." The bell chimes and my footfalls sound like a drum in my ears. "Let us shout, let us shout the darkness, make it fear our coming death." I move and pull up someone who is kneeling on the ground, tears coating their cheeks.
"Arise, Arise!" My fist bangs upon my chest.
Marching up the crude steps into the tower, my fist hammers the wall to the beat of my heart. The stone walls echoing with my voice within but reverberating across the field outside. "If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its author and finisher."
The glow from my sword spreads out from around me, slowly lighting up the tower. And as I march out atop of the stone building, I gaze out towards the wave of darkness rushing towards us from the west. I can hear the snarls and roars of the curse frothing towards us. The voice of darkness speaking its inky touch across the barren landscape beyond the walls not a few minutes away.
"So let this ballad be our last ballad that we spin." I reach for the hilt of my sword and look down at the forces defending the wall. There gaze is brief but I their eyes, and their fear. But I also see their hope. "As free men, as free woman," turning to face the forces spread out below in the fortress field before me. "By our song, we will live forever!" I rip the star blade from the half-sheath on my back. "Or die by our own hand." The light beams out towards the heavens above as my words echo across the land.
The roar spreads like fire, chasing away the shadow of fear. Spear and sword slap against shields, cracking rumbling among the men and woman. Some beat upon the stone and steal around them while others beat their chest. A vicious cry of defiance, a thunderous song echoing in my heart and ears as I turned to face the darkness.
And she was there. Right behind me as I turned to face the forces marching toward us. Her hands glowing in radiance as her spells weaved around us, casting down pillars of light spread out across the wall. I raise my sword high and can feel the air around me turn static. Darkness now clashes with the light as the hordes of the enemy crash and climb upon the wall. "Our story, our ballad, shall forever sing among the stars." Guns and artillery begin to fire. "But we are the authors of light!"
With a swing of my sword, bolts of lightning fire down from gathered clouds in the sky at the base of the wall.
~~~~~
Original Prompt by u/George_WL_
**Edits: Corrected minor gramatical errors**

OOC: co-written with NotTooSunny
It was an ordinary day at the New York City Library. People wandered in and out of the building, unaware of the monster that lurked among them.
The only people who seemed to know the danger these mortals were in were Harper and Amon, who entered the building with glowing bronze swords at their hips. The bulky weapons seemed to have escaped the notice of the other library patrons, which was a good thing. The job description had made it clear that they were meant to remain inconspicuous in completing their task.
Harper had traded her usual bright orange camp shirt for a more discrete cropped black t-shirt and pleated pants. She had been insistent on coming up with a persona for them on the train ride from Montauk Station into New York City. They were meant to act as high school students researching for a World History paper on Ancient Greece. Now that they were inside the library, she had stopped her incessant rambling to peruse a riddle book, in what she had insisted was preparation for their job.
As they wandered through the bookshelves, she remained absorbed in the dog-eared children’s book, thumbing through the pages to find a riddle that would be fitting of a sphinx.
“Here’s one, Amon,” she said, narrowly avoiding a collision with another library patron as she read, “What is something that runs but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?”
The dark-haired son of Apollo glanced over from a shelf of dusty atlases, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. “That is an easy one,” he replied simply. "River. Try me with something more challenging next time around." He adjusted the collar of his striped button down, which he had layered with a navy blue sweater in preparation for the chill of the air-conditioned interior.
“The real riddle is where we can find this sphinx,” Amon glanced around the spacious reading area, eyeing the dark wooden staircase with its ornate railings. “The boyfriend and girlfriend who tried this last time, they found her by a bookcase.”
“A bookcase,” Harper repeated derisively, closing her book to theatrically scan their surroundings. “That narrows it down.”
Ignoring Harper’s mockery, the son of Apollo paused suddenly, his dark eyes glazing over with concentration. His hearing dulled, the surrounding footsteps and rustling pages fading into the background as if muffled by a thick curtain. Amon searched for the energy signature of the monster he knew lurked among the mortals. It was a subtle shift, like trying to discern a whisper in a crowded room, but he felt a faint, abnormal energy hanging somewhere up above.
“I say we try the second floor,” he said as he snapped out of the tracking trance, offering no other explanation to Harper.
“We could do that, sure,” Harper said, words laced with blatant doubt at his sudden certainty. “I say we try asking the Visitor’s Center. I know she's supposed to be disguised by the Mist, but the librarians have to have noticed something.”
“You can go ahead and do that.” The small smirk from earlier was now spreading across his face. “But you can’t be upset if I find the sphinx and solve her riddle before you even get there.”
Harper rolled her eyes, but she made no attempt to stop Amon from walking towards the staircase. After a moment she set off after him, footsteps even against the wooden steps.
Up on the second floor, Amon moved quietly, his dark eyes scanning the hallway for anything out of the ordinary.
I know you’re up here.
He stopped at every heavy-looking mahogany door, peering through each muted glass insert. He felt the air grow thicker with ominous energy at every step, so he knew the monster must be near.
One of the doors was slightly ajar, a suspiciously open invitation. Or a trap. The dark-haired boy caught sight of a cat-shaped figure on the other side before ducking down and motioning sharply for Harper’s attention. He unsheathed his kopis from his belt, bracing himself for confrontation.
Harper crouched against the wall, hand on the hilt of her sword as she tried to peek through the frosted glass pane. She held her breath, ready to move at Amon’s signal. He held out three fingers and then put them down one by one. When he hit zero, they stood in unison, flinging the door open together.
When Amon and Harper stepped inside, the body of the sphinx lay motionless on the floor.
The rest of the room was in disarray, littered with disheveled chairs and broken bits of chalk. A window on the other side of the room had been forced open, the curtain fluttering in the wind.
“No way,” Harper said. The door clicked shut behind her as she pushed past Amon into the room and kneeled to study the monster’s limp figure.
The sphinx had the large body of a lion and the eerily human face of a middle-aged woman, hair tied back in a severe bun and foundation caked onto her high cheekbones. Fangs jutted out of her red-painted lips, and eagle wings sprouted out of the space between her shoulder blades, folded tight against her back.
“Monsters dissolve into dust when they die,” Amon remarked, keeping his distance as he watched the subtle rise and fall of the monster’s ribs. “She must have been knocked unconscious.”
“Right,” Harper agreed, “The real question is who. And why.”
She hovered a hand over the cat's shoulder, set on rousing her. Before she made contact, the sphinx's eyes snapped open, round irises surrounded by shocking yellow sclera.
"Slain!" she wailed. Harper staggered backwards. Amon’s arms instinctively reached out to catch her, but she didn’t stumble near enough to make contact. "I am slain!"
With feline grace, the sphinx rose to her feet. A white tape outline marked the placement of her previously prone body on the floor. The muscles in her legs rippled as she paced in front of Harper and Amon, massive velvet paws silent against the carpet.
"And you, my dear heroes," she roared, eyes narrowed in an accusatory glare, "were too late to save me!"
The sphinx sniffed, composing herself. She leapt onto a wooden table. The table legs creaked underneath her weight. "Fear not," she tutted, "Fear not. For you can still avenge me. If you are able to determine the murderer and their weapon, then I will obtain justice, and all will be right with the world.”
“Your riddle is a murder mystery,” Harper said, confusion written across her face. Amon raised an eyebrow. The sphinx chuffed, a low rumbling sound reminiscent of laughter.
“You sought that hackneyed question about man? The Sphinx that the storytellers remember is far less adaptive than I am. I am not interested in your ability to regurgitate the information you have read. Nor am I interested in taking advantage of the nonsensical rules of your English language.”
“I am here to satisfy my own curiosity: does modern mankind still possess the ability to engage in deductive reasoning, or do they only seek to make themselves appear intelligent? Do not speak,” the sphinx said, a pointed look at Harper, who had opened her mouth to interject, “You will answer my questions when you play my game.”
“The potential murder weapons are scattered throughout this room,” she continued, leaping off the table. “And the suspects have already provided their testimonies for your review. Rest assured, I have made certain that their statements contain no lies.”
A shimmering, translucent energy began to swirl around Harper and Amon’s feet, beginning to take shape as holograms with a flickering, ephemeral quality.
A projection of Cerberus materialized first, his three massive heads snarling and snapping in unison. A ribbon of text appeared by his paws to translate his growling: "I was guarding the entrance, my duty unbroken."
Next came the Minotaur, his towering form pacing within the labyrinth on Crete. He snorted and pawed at the ground, the holographic maze shifting behind him in the background. The translation text appeared: "Confined within these walls, no escape for me."
Lamia's projection flickered into view, her serpentine lower half coiled around her as she wept in her cave. She glanced mournfully at the holographic images of her lost children: "My grief consumes me, innocent of this crime."
A shimmering Hydra emerged next, its nine heads snapping at invisible foes. Each one moved independently, showcasing its ability to act on its own. The translation for the hissing head at the center read: "Engaged in battle, I could not have killed."
Typhon materialized with a thunderous roar, his colossal form fighting against restraints under Mount Etna. His immense size and power were palpable, even in scaled down holographic form: "Bound by chains of the earth, I could not have roamed free."
Echidna’s hologram appeared last, her form a mix of human and serpent, lounging in a dimly lit cave. She looked directly at the viewers, her expression both defiant and amused. The translation text by her side read: “I dwell in my lair, uninvolved in such petty affairs.”
The sphinx swiped at the last projection as it faded, deeming her handiwork satisfactory. “There is not enough information to deduce the killer using evidence alone. Because I am fair, I will provide you with three hints before your final guess. Be forewarned: if you fail to provide a correct answer, you will both perish. Is this understood?”
Harper spoke. “If we answer correctly, you will leave this library for good.”
“If you answer correctly, I will permanently relocate. It is a preferable option in comparison to another death. Now, do you agree to the terms and conditions?” the sphinx said primly, regarding Harper and Amon with casual disdain. The pair nodded. “Very well.”
The sphinx dropped onto the floor and let her head loll back, pretending to be dead once more.
Hint #1

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

Soon after the Sphinx had laid back down, Harper and Amon began to scour the room. A small pile of prospective murder weapons formed on a nearby table.
“We can easily eliminate the siren song,” Amon rushed to speak over Harper, eyeing the small glass vial of swirling gray matter that they had found nestled behind a row of books on metalworking. “It is a luring mechanism, not a murder weapon.”
“We could rule out Cerberus’ fang too,” he pointed at the enormous yellowing tooth, about the size of the small baseball bat Amon used to have when he played in the little league. “If we take the hologram as ground truth, all of his teeth were intact there.”
Harper used her kopis to prod at the stained tunic that had been hidden in a desk drawer, being careful not to touch it with bare skin. “The Shirt of Nessus is a viable option. It would be easy for any of the suspects to lay it down and wait for the hydra venom to kick in.”
“I am not ready to rule out the bronze sword either,” Amon noted. “Monsters have access to heroes and the weapons they leave behind.”
“Most of these monsters don’t even have opposable thumbs,” Harper argued, running a hand over the sword they had found by a power outlet. ”They don’t have the dexterity to wield a sword.”
“I do not imagine that the technicality would be that granular.”
Harper laughed. “Oh, the number of teeth in the Cerberus hologram tell all, but we’re drawing the line at opposable thumbs.”
“I suppose that that logic would also rule out the harpy talon and the encyclopedia easily as well,” Amon admitted. “Which would be too easy.”
“I’m just that good at logical deduction.” Harper said proudly. “If my assumption is correct, then the poisoned shirt is the only one that makes sense.”
Amon scoffed, folding his arms across his chest as his dark eyes bored into Harper. “It would not necessarily matter what our first guess would be anyway.”
“Can you provide an argument for any other weapon? Or are you intent on purposely making an illogical guess?” she countered cooly.
“Fine,” Amon acquiesced. “Since you are so adamant about the shirt, we can guess the shirt, and be incorrect. It does not matter. What about the suspects themselves?” He clasped his hands behind his back, his steps measured as he started to pace across the plush red carpet of the room.
Harper smiled, smugly accepting her victory. She strode towards a chalkboard at the side of the study room, inscribing the list of weapons and suspects with a fresh piece of white chalk.
“All of them have alibis,“ she began. “I think that-”
“Some make more sense than others,” Amon spoke over Harper, irritated by her minor triumph. “Cerberus, for example, is under the service of Hades. He says he did not leave his post, and he could not have done so without permission or dire consequences on the process of the dead.”
Harper silently seethed as Amon spoke, meeting his rationale with reluctant acceptance before starting again in a louder, exaggerated tone. “I think that the ones with the shakiest alibis are Lamia, the Minotaur, Typhon, and Echidna. No witnesses can confirm their locations. In fact, Lamia provides no location at all.” Harper circled those names. She looked at Amon with a forced smile, allowing him a moment to provide more commentary.
“Lamia? Well,” there was a hint of mockery in the sneer that tugged on the corner of Amon’s lips. “I would imagine her emotions rendered her… Too fragile and unstable to carry out such an act.”
“You’re kidding,” Harper scoffed, searching Amon's face for the slightest hint that he was joking. “Her grief is what moved her to kill children in the first place. I doubt it would suddenly be incapacitating. She’s just appealing to your sense of superiority, and I can’t believe that you’re falling for it.”
"It is not about superiority. It is about logic," Amon retorted, bristling in defense. “You cannot deny that emotions cloud judgment. Maybe the sphinx wants us to leverage our knowledge about her past crimes to reason that she was not thinking clearly in this case either.” Amon had no other evidence that pointed towards Lamia as the top suspect, but he had dug deep enough where he was now ready to stand firm in his reasoning.
“Murder,” Harper countered, eyes narrowed in a venomous stare, “-does not require you to think clearly. Haven’t you heard of a crime of passion? If anyone’s judgment is clouded right now, Amon, it’s yours.”
The son of Apollo squared his shoulders, his expression hardening. "I understand the concept of crimes of passion, thank you.” His dark-eyed stare returned Harper's gaze, unflinching at the intensity. “But our investigation must be rooted in facts, not assumptions based on emotions. And the facts are,” he resumed his pacing once more, “that Lamia cannot be the culprit, as she is the only suspect that openly admits to being innocent of this crime.”
Amon had considered this from the very start, but provoking Harper like this had proved to be far more amusing.
Harper crossed Lamia’s name off of the board. She swallowed down her anger, fighting the urge to continue pressing the issue in favor of returning to their list of suspects. She pointed her piece of chalk at the next names on the list. “The Minotaur and Typhon are trapped, or so they say. How could they have done anything?”
“Their alibis revolve around their inability to escape,” Amon pointed out. “Not that they were unable to commit murder. The Labyrinth, in fact,” he raised a dramatic finger, “has several moving passages that could have permitted the Minotaur to move and commit murder without an official escape.”
Harper considered his words for a long moment, trying to find the flaw in his reasoning. Seeing none, she placed a dot next to the Minotaurs's name.
“Typhon escaped his prison in the Second Titanomachy. He could do it again,” Harper said thoughtfully. “Though I don’t understand why he would do something like this. He’s the Sphinx's father. The same goes for Echidna.”
Amon, who had been nodding at Harper’s assessment of Typhon’s abilities, pursed his lips at her observation of parentage. “I do not see how this could possibly be relevant to the logical puzzle at hand.”
Harper spoke slowly, as if the answer was obvious. “What motive would they have to kill their own daughter?”
“Harper,” Amon began curtly, folding his arms across his chest. “Half of the Greek myths revolve around immortals killing their own children.”
“Then we should pick one of them,” Harper declared, pivoting her argument instead of admitting her logical blunder. “They would have more of a motive than the rest of the suspects, if anything.”
“The Minotaur can escape much more easily than Typhon can. Motive aside, it is the most logical guess,” Amon concluded, adjusting his collar haughtily. “I will remind you that we picked your choice of weapon. It is only fair that I select the monster.”
“Fine.” Harper agreed, her gaze stormy as she turned back towards the sphinx. “We accuse the Minotaur of killing the sphinx with the Shirt of Nessus.”
The sphinx opened one eye. “None of these are correct!”
Hint #2

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Two more hints left.” Harper announced, crossing off the Minotaur’s name and the poisoned shirt on the chalkboard with a flourish. It was not ideal that her initial logical deductions had been incorrect, but at least Amon had also been wrong. She couldn't resist a snide comment. “I knew it wasn’t the Minotaur.”
“So you still think it’s Typhon.” Choosing to ignore Harper’s taunting, Amon rested his hand on a nearby desk, studying the lists on the chalkboard before him. He had taken the Minotaur error as a personal failure, and was determined to get the suspect right this time.
“I do.”
“Why not Echidna?”
“She’s too emotional to kill someone, obviously.” Harper said sarcastically. “Her frail female arms are probably too weak to even hold a weapon.”
The dark-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Objectively,” he began, ignoring her quip once more, “Typhon could not have lied about his inability to roam free. A natural disaster freed him from Mount Etna during the Second Titanomachy, but he could not recreate those conditions on his own.” Though his tone remained aloof, it was clear that Amon was relishing in the opportunity to flaunt his mythology knowledge.
“Maybe,” Harper argued, stubborn. “But Echidna’s statement was less ambiguous than his. Typhon just explains his predicament; he doesn't provide a real claim. Echidna explicitly says she was not involved.” She thought for a few more moments, rolling the piece of chalk in her hands. “Echidna could have released him? They would be accomplices.”
Amon shook his head. “There was a single murderer. Not two. The sphinx would not lie about the premise of the game.”
Harper stared at him coldly, but could offer no rebuttal. She turned her attention to the board. “Typhon is a giant. He’s capable of using the sword.”
“But the specificity of Echidna’s denial is still incredibly suspicious. ‘Petty affairs’ is a strange way to phrase a murder. But,” Amon added reluctantly, “I understand the logic behind Typhon. I suppose it is your turn to choose the monster, and we will still have another guess to work with.”
“As for the weapon,” he continued, “I still think the sword is the most viable option, given that the siren song and the fang can be ruled out and the shirt with the venom was, well,” Amon pursed his lips, fighting the urge to smile, “incorrect.”
Before Harper could interject, Amon turned towards the sphinx at the front of the room. “We accuse Typhon of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword.”
“One of these is correct!”
Hint #3

Suspects	Weapons
Cerberus	The Shirt of Nessus
The Minotaur	Siren Song
Lamia	Harpy Talon
The Hydra	Celestial Bronze Sword
Typhon	A-C Encyclopedia
Echidna	Cerberus Fang

“Aha!” Amon raised a triumphant finger before pointing it at Harper. “I told you,” he gloated, “Typhon had no escape route.”
“You were right,” Harper admitted, staring down at the carpet so that she would not have to look at his smug expression.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, and turned back towards the lioness with crossed arms. “We accuse Echidna of killing the sphinx with a Celestial Bronze Sword”
“One of these is correct,” the sphinx announced. Her mouth twisted in amusement, fangs bared in a menacing smile.
READ PART 2 HERE

Mr. Steve Lewis
Mr. Patrick McKinney
Mr. Bryan Freiermuth
c/o Gideons 1898 LLC et al
1600 East Buena Vista Drive

A

Lake Buena Vista, FL 32830
VIA ELECTRONIC MAIL
May 10th, 2024
Final Demand
Gentlemen,
There is an odor most foul in the Bakehouse. It is the stench of the fish rotting from the head.
To our proprietor Steve, and our managers Bryan and Patrick:
There is dissension within the ranks, and if the following items are not resolved as we outline
below, we’re prepared to drag this house of cards to the ground.
Before we proceed with our grievances, numerous and shocking, and the demands to resolve
them; allow us a moment for introductions.
We, are the Ghosts of Gideons, the poor and unfortunate souls upon whom you have built your
cookie empire. We are the many, the unseen, and as of the disastrous meeting May 6th, 2024, the
decidedly unheard.
Many of us have approached management and ownership multiple times with helpful hints,
strong suggestions, and desperate pleas to rectify a myriad of health, safety and operational
concerns- with nearly all of them being dismissed or ignored entirely.
Now, we, the collective, have banded together to deliver this tome- not as a warning of what is to
come, but as a final demand to resolve the issues outlined herein. You may dismiss us
individually, but you cannot ignore all of us together.
Make no mistake, if the following solutions are not implemented with immediate effect, we will
do everything in our power to topple this cookie castle permanently.
We should start by informing you, that, yes- we are but lowly workers for Gideons, however, we
are supported by families who hold prominent positions in the community as lawyers, labor
1
representatives, publicists, and county government workers. Families who love us, and want to
see us remain safely and fairly employed.
Through our vast, and well connected network the following steps have already been
implemented:
1) A lawsuit for your numerous unfair and unsafe labor practices and work conditions has
been drafted.
2) A press release, along with a copy of this letter, have been sent to local and national
media.
3) We have created social channels to connect directly with customers and inform them of
the reprehensible work conditions we are enduring.
4) We have filed health and safety reports with local government bodies detailing the
extensive issues we are faced with at the Springs location.
5) We have informed Disney Springs leadership of our position relating to the above, and
below in this letter.
In all cases, these competent bodies are awaiting our word. If the demands listed herein are not
satisfied immediately, we will, in tandem with the above, begin a campaign to inform the world
of your numerous transgressions, filing lawsuits and media coverages exposing you and the
Company for the shill that it is, and we will not stop until the Bakehouse bakes no more.
We should also mention that should any attempt be made to retaliate against us, including
termination, reducing our hours, benefits, or taking other pervasive actions against any Gideons
employee, will promptly result in our bringing legal class-action.
The time has come for you, our leaders, to actually lead. This means spending money where
money must be spent, and making the following operational changes, so that we can all continue
to exist in harmony, and not feel like we’re trapped on an 1800’s plantation- working for the big
house.
1) Communication- How dare you drag the entire workforce to a 9AM meeting,
demanding our presence, and then talk directly at us with the most mundane drivel we’ve
ever heard. Everything dictated today could have been very well sent as an email-
especially when you did not allow for any discussion between us, the workers who
actually make your business run, and the disconnected upper-management who are hell
bent on implementing misguided and inefficient policies. Do not call us in for a
mandatory meeting again when the points can be covered in an email, unless you intend
to open the floor for actual conversation and listen to what we have to say.
2
To that end, since our voices were silenced this morning, we demand the following:
● Cold Brew- We will not adopt the ‘bartender’ shaking style of preparing the cold
brew drinks. When we have 10+ beverages queuing to be made, shaking each
drink 10 times will severely impact our ability to be efficient. This is but one
example of Steve’s desire to have ‘form over function’. We understand there may
be a ‘look’ you’re going for, but when it compromises our ability to efficiently
perform our function, we refuse. We demand to be allowed to resume our ‘stir
stick’ preparation immediately.
● Point System/ Order Accuracy- Under no circumstance should Management take
the side of the Guest over the word of the employee. Too often we see guests
complain that an order was incorrect, and Management issues a point to an
employee. This must stop immediately. We demand you implement a ‘please
check your screen for order accuracy’ procedure where the guest confirms their
order before they pay, and remove the ‘point’ system. If the guest confirms the
order, it reduces the possibility for an inaccurate order.
● Inconsistent/ Inaccurate menu boards and Social Postings- The inside Menu
Board has been outdated for nearly two years. It must be updated immediately to
remove items we no longer sell (IE Coke Products) and ingredient offerings (IE
Banana WALNUT). By correctly labeling the items, it reduces the stress on us in
having to confirm that certain items have nuts, or not being yelled at by guests
who are disgruntled that we no longer sell Coke products. Further, there are
multiple social media inaccuracies when describing new products (IE peanut
butter buttercream, VS the actual peanut butter cream cheese). These inaccurate
product descriptions hurt the brand, and cause confusion with the guests when
they come to order these products. Also the new umbrellas are not UV resistant;
therefore any mention of them ‘protecting you from the sun’ is false, and may
result in legal action from guests. We demand you only post accurate descriptions
to the website/ social media to avoid further guest/ employee confrontation.
● HR- Given the fact that Cynthia engaged in using racial slurs during the May 6th
meeting, referring to guests as gypsies and hoodlums, we demand her firing and
removal immediately. Multiple members of staff were deeply offended by the
hurtful stereotypes that Cynthia perpetuated, and we no longer have any trust in
her ability to lead this organization, especially from a HR perspective, when she
herself seems to harbor unfair and demeaning racial views.
● Management- We cannot express with limited words the level of dissatisfaction
we maintain for Drew. The staff, in our entirety, have never dealt with such
incompetent, slothful, and wasteful behavior. Drew consistently stays on his
phone, refusing to help the team accomplish any of their tasks, and barely exudes
a modicum of effort through his rare action of helping build cake boxes or taking
out trash before disembarking on a break (which none us other managers/leads are
3
cookie king, bringing in circa $40,000 per day, affording you a life of luxury, and not
fairly compensate the employees that are making Gideons everything that it is. The
cookies are good, but make no mistake, as was stated during the May 6th meeting, the
customers come for us. I can’t imagine what they’ll say when they learn about the
slave-like conditions in which we work, especially with Auntie Anne’s earning $18 per
hour + tips.
3) Hours- Part time is up to 30 hours per week, full time is 30 hours or more. We must have
a guaranteed number of hours per week, pending our availability. For example, if a
full-time employee has open availability, they must be scheduled for 40 hours. If a
part-time person has open availability, they must be scheduled for up to 30 hours per
week. This is to ensure we have a stable and uniform weekly income, guaranteed by our
base pay and consistent hours.
4) On Call- All shifts that are ‘on- call’ must be guaranteed a full 8 hour shift, regardless if
the employee is called into work or not. We clear our day and make ourselves available to
cover the Company, and we demand to be compensated a full 8 hours ($16 per hour) for
the flexibility to suit the Company’s needs.
5) Pay Protection- In the event that the store is closed for any reason, employees currently
scheduled to be working during the closure must receive all payment for the shifts they
were scheduled for. If the AC goes out again, and we’re down for several days, those of
us scheduled must receive full compensation for shifts as scheduled.
3) Health & Safety- While it seems that Gideon’s is based primarily on the ‘cool factor’ in how
our processes look from a customer perspective, we are still a fully functioning kitchen and retail
location with a haphazard health and safety process, at best.
To ensure a properly safe workplace and customer experience, we demand the following changes
immediately:
1) Shorts/ Heat Safety Prevention- We’ve been told time and time again that the ‘Disney
Contract’ we cannot wear shorts. After having multiple conversations with Disney
Springs leadership and the Unite Here 362 representatives, we have come to understand
that a change in uniform can be initiated by amendment. No longer can the ‘look’ of
something overpower the safety of us. In terms of being outside in the sunlight and heat,
we demand that the contract be amended immediately to account for a uniform change,
thus allowing us to wear shorts within the next five days. It is dangerous for us to be
outside in the heat and sunlight during high-heat (more than 70 degrees fahrenheit) days,
wearing all black and long pants. We are unwilling to compromise our personal health
and safety to appease your ‘style guide’ insisting on long pants, but we’re happy to
maintain a look via style guide for shorts. In addition, we have seen multiple large/
battery operated fans in use around Disney property, keeping other Cast cool during these
heat waves. We demand that large fans are procured and placed in strategic outside
5
locations within the next 5 days, so that we may have respite during high temp days. The
cooling towels and neck fans you have provided are ineffective.
2) Egress- We bakers are trapped. There is no second means of fire egress from the kitchen,
and should a fire or other disaster occur with the ovens, we would be trapped and unable
to escape. We demand you add in additional egress from the bakery, into the outside
alley. We understand this will require planning and stairs, however, planning must be
commenced immediately. We will not work in an unsafe environment, and with no place
to escape in the event of an emergency, we will be burned alive.
3) Handicap accessibility- Our retail location does not comply with ADA mobility
standards. The counters must be moved to allow an employee who utilizes a wheelchair
or other mobility device the proper space to move behind the counters and throughout the
kitchen. While yes, a wheelchair will ‘fit’, they will be unable to properly move. We are
discriminating against hiring ADA employees due to the way the store is currently
overcrowded and built. We demand proper spacing be added within the next 90 days.
4) Safety Training & Procedures- As of right now Operations have not developed any safety
or training procedures relating to fire, bomb threat, active shooter, lighting/ rain, accident
or other hazard. We are provided with no training in the event of any of these
emergencies, and we are all woefully unprepared with a common knowledge of how to
address emergency situations. We demand that a safety plan be developed and provided
to each of us in writing, and that we receive sufficient training of the new procedures
within 14 days.
5) Sanitation- Our baking sheets never get cleaned. We demand that you hire an outside
vendor to pick up used equipment nightly at close, and deliver a clean set at the same
time, so that we may rotate clean equipment daily. It is too large a task for us to wash in
house, and this needs to be automated for us. Our current sanitation procedure is
inadequate to ensure proper health and safety standards.
6) Bathroom breaks- Many of us suffer from various biological disabilities that force
frequent trips to the restroom. We simply cannot ‘hold it’ until we’re on break. IF we
need to go to the restroom, we must be immediately accommodated to do so without
repercussions. While this is not common, it does happen, and must be allowed.
6
Demand Timeline:
May 11th- Cold Brew BartendeShaking preparation is disbanded, stir stick preparation is
reimplemented.
May 11th- Cynthia is terminated immediately for using racial slurs during a company meeting.
May 11th- Drew is demoted as manager immediately for failure to act as a leader, and help his
team, undergoing an immense retraining before he is reinstated.
May 12th- All employees earn a base rate of $16 + tip share.
May 12th- An automatic/ mandatory 7.5% gratuity is placed on all guest orders.
May 12th- All ‘on call’ shifts will be guaranteed a full 8 hours ($16 p/h), regardless of working
or not.
May 12th- Lead/ Trainer pay to increase to at least $19 per hour when training, and $18 per hour
at all other times + tip share.
May 11th- Planning for additional egress to begin. Must be fully installed and operational no
later than June 20th, 2024.
May 17th- A $1,200 bonus is paid to all employees who worked during the last three pay
periods. This bonus covers the lower wages suffered from the ‘no tip’ asking policy.
May 13th- Schedules to be created, guaranteeing all ‘part-time’ employees up to 30 hours per
week based on employee availability, and ‘full-time’ employees at least 40 hours per week,
based on employee availability.
May 14th- Commercial grade fans outside submitted for approval to Disney, installed upon
approval.
May 15th- Shorts implemented for all workers, all shifts, when the outside temperature is more
than 70 degrees fahrenheit.
May 14th- Sanitation company must be contracted to pick up used baking sheets nightly, and a
second set of baking sheets to be procured to ensure sufficient sanitation of products in direct
contact with food.
May 24th- All health & safety procedures will be drafted and provided to all employees in
writing, with in-person training to occur with all employees. New hires shall receive the new
procedures and same in person training as a part of their onboarding.
August 4th- Handicap/ADA compliance. The store and kitchen must be rearranged/ decluttered
to allow for the hiring of mobility device users, including wheelchairs, to comply with ADA
layout requirements.
7
While the above demands only scratch a portion of the hazardous operational procedures, we are
confident that should they all be addressed and the solutions we have demanded are implemented
within the allotted timelines, we can avoid a disastrous fallout and continue to work together to
ensure Gideons remains a successful operation.
We understand that this will most likely come as a shock, not less because ownership and
operations seem to be blissfully unaware of the vast deterioration, but moreover, the inane
procedural overhauls implemented in today’s meeting simply reek of disconnection to the reality
of the process, and will only serve to further delay and complicate the already struggling
operation.
It is time to see beyond all of the narcissistic ‘it looks cool, so we’re going to do it my way’
absurdity, and recognize that the above demands come from your soldiers on the frontlines. A
tough pill to swallow, but it is medicine critical to survival, nevertheless. We further recommend
that all upper management leadership work at least one eight hour, front of house shift per six
months, to ensure they remain fully connected and relevant.
We must issue a final word of warning: should this letter be ignored, or any of the above
demands are not implemented, or any retaliatory action be taken, it will be met with the most
severe consequences.
We know that you are amassing a fortune, and all we Ghosts ask for is a fair wage, a safe and
comfortable working environment, and to be treated with dignity and respect.
We’d hate for the adoring public to learn of any other reality. This is your one, final, opportunity
to make it right.
We look forward to your prompt email reply confirming your plan of action to comply with our
demands herein.
In Solidarity,
The Ghosts of Gideons.

In the ’80s, the spy agency investigated the "Gateway Experience" technique to alter consciousness and ultimately escape spacetime.
The intrigue revolves around a classified 1983 CIA report on a technique called the Gateway Experience, which is a training system designed to focus brainwave output to alter consciousness and ultimately escape the restrictions of time and space.
The CIA was interested in all sorts of psychic research at the time, including the theory of applications of remote viewing, which is when someone views real events with only the power of their mind. The documents have since been declassified and are available to view.
This is a comprehensive excavation of The Gateway Process report. The first section provides a timeline of the key historical developments that led to the CIA’s investigation and subsequent experimentations. The second section is a review of The Gateway Process report. It opens with a wall of theoretical context, on the other side of which lies enough understanding to begin to grasp the principles underlying the Gateway Experience training. The last section outlines the Gateway technique itself and the steps that go into achieving spacetime transcendence.
Let’s go.
THE TIMELINE
• 1950s - Robert Monroe, a radio broadcasting executive, begins producing evidence that specific sound patterns have identifiable effects on human capabilities. These include alertness, sleepiness, and expanded states of consciousness.
• 1956 - Monroe forms an R&D division inside his radio program production corporation RAM Enterprises. The goal is to study sound’s effect on human consciousness. He was obsessed with “Sleep-Learning," or hypnopedia, which exposes sleepers to sound recordings to boost memory of previously learned information.
• 1958 - While experimenting with Sleep-Learning, Monroe discovers an unusual phenomenon. He describes it as sensations of paralysis and vibration accompanied by bright light. It allegedly happens nine times over the proceeding six weeks, and culminates in an out-of-body experience (OBE).
• 1962 - RAM Enterprises moves to Virginia, and renames itself Monroe Industries. It becomes active in radio station ownership, cable television, and later in the production and sale of audio cassettes. These cassettes contain applied learnings from the corporate research program, which is renamed The Monroe Institute.
• 1971 - Monroe publishes Journeys Out of the Body, a book that is credited with popularizing the term “out-of-body experience.”
• 1972 - A classified report circulates in the U.S. military and intelligence communities. It claims that the Soviet Union is pouring money into research involving ESP and psychokinesis for espionage purposes.
• 1975 - Monroe registers the first of several patents concerning audio techniques designed to stimulate brain functions until the left and right hemispheres become synchronized. Monroe dubs the state "Hemi-Sync" (hemispheric synchronization), and claims it could be used to promote mental well-being or to trigger an altered state of consciousness.
• 1978 to 1984 - Army veteran Joseph McMoneagle contributes to 450 remote viewing missions under Project Stargate. He is known as “Remote View No. 1”.
• June 9th, 1983 - The CIA report "Analysis and Assessment of The Gateway Process" is produced. It provides a scientific framework for understanding and expanding human consciousness, out-of-body experiments, and other altered states of mind.
• 1989 - Remote viewer Angela Dellafiora Ford helps track down a former customs agent who has gone on the run. She pinpoints his location as “Lowell, Wyoming”. U.S. Customs apprehend him 100 miles west of a Wyoming town called Lovell.
• 2003 - The CIA approves declassification of the Gateway Process report.
• 2017 - The CIA declassifies 12 million pages of records revealing previously unknown details about the program, which would eventually become known as Project Stargate.
THE REPORT
Personnel
The author of The Gateway Process report is Lieutenant Colonel Wayne M. McDonnell, hereon referred to simply as Wayne. There isn’t a tremendous amount of information available on the man, nor any photographs. In 1983, Wayne was tasked by the Commander of the U.S. Army Operational Group with figuring out how The Gateway Experience, astral projection and out-of-body experiences work. Wayne partnered with a bunch of different folks to produce the report, most notably Itzhak Bentov, a very Googleable American-Israeli scientist who helped pioneer the biomedical engineering industry.
A scientific approach
From the outset of the report, Wayne states his intent to employ an objective scientific method in order to understand the Gateway process. The various scientific avenues he takes include:
• A biomedical inquiry to understand the physical aspects of the process.
• Information on quantum mechanics to describe the nature and functioning of human consciousness.
• Theoretical physics to explain the time-space dimension and means by which expanded human consciousness transcends it.
• Classical physics to bring the whole phenomenon of out-of-body states into the language of physical science (and remove the stigma of an occult connotation).
Methodological frames of reference
Before diving into the Gateway Experience, Wayne develops a frame of reference by dissecting three discrete consciousness-altering methodologies. He’s basically saying, there’s no way you’re going to get through The Gateway without a solid grounding in the brain-altering techniques that came before it.
1) He begins with hypnosis. The language is extremely dense, but the basic gist is as follows: the left side of the brain screens incoming stimuli, categorizing, assessing and assigning meaning to everything through self-cognitive, verbal, and linear reasoning. The left hemisphere then dishes the carefully prepared data to the non-critical, holistic, pattern-oriented right hemisphere, which accepts everything without question. Hypnosis works by putting the left side to sleep, or at least distracting it long enough to allow incoming data direct, unchallenged entry to the right hemisphere. There, stimuli can reach the sensor and motor cortices of the right brain, which corresponds to points in the body. Suggestions then can send electrical signals from the brain to certain parts of the body. Directing these signals appropriately, according to the report, can elicit reactions ranging from left leg numbness to feelings of happiness. Same goes for increased powers of concentration.
2) Wayne continues with a snapshot of transcendental meditation. He distinguishes it from hypnotism. Through concentration the subject draws energy up the spinal cord, resulting in acoustical waves that run through the cerebral ventricles, to the right hemisphere, where they stimulate the cerebral cortex, run along the homunculus and then to the body. The waves are the altered rhythm of heart sounds, which create sympathetic vibrations in the walls of the fluid-filled cavities of the brain’s ventricles. He observed that the symptoms begin in the left side of the body, confirming the right brain’s complicity. Bentov also states that the same effect might be achieved by prolonged exposure to 4 - 7 Hertz/second acoustical vibrations. He suggests standing by an air conditioning duct might also do the trick. (David’s Lynch and other celebrities are committed adherents to transcendental meditation today.)
3) Biofeedback, on the other hand, uses the left hemisphere to gain access to the right brain’s lower cerebral, motor, and sensory cortices. Whereas hypnosis suppresses one side of the brain, and TM bypasses that side altogether, biofeedback teaches the left hemisphere to visualize the desired result, recognize the feelings associated with right hemisphere access, and ultimately achieve the result again. With repetition, the left brain can reliably key into the right brain, and strengthen the pathways so that it can be accessed during a conscious demand mode. A digital thermometer is subsequently placed on a target part of the body. When its temperature increases, objective affirmation is recognized and the state is reinforced. Achieving biofeedback can block pain, enhance feeling, and even suppress tumors, according to the report.
The Gateway mechanics
With that, Wayne takes a first stab at the Gateway process. He classifies it as a “training system designed to bring enhanced strength, focus and coherence to the amplitude and frequency of brainwave output between the left and right hemispheres so as to alter consciousness.”
What distinguishes the Gateway process from hypnosis, TM, and biofeedback, is that it requires achieving a state of consciousness in which the electrical brain patterns of both hemispheres are equal in amplitude and frequency. This is called Hemi-Sync. Lamentably, and perhaps conveniently, we cannot as humans achieve this state on our own. The audio techniques developed by Bob Monroe and his Institute (which are comprised as a series of tapes). claim to induce and sustain Hemi-Sync.
Wayne employs the analogy of a lamp versus a laser. Left to its own devices the human mind expends energy like a lamp, in a chaotic and incoherent way, achieving lots of diffusion but relatively little depth. Under Hemi-Sync though, the mind produces a “disciplined stream of light.” So, once the frequency and amplitude of the brain are rendered coherent it can then synchronize with the rarified energy levels of the universe. With this connection intact, the brain begins to receive symbols and display astonishing flashes of holistic intuition.
The Hemi-Sync technique takes advantage of a Frequency Following Response (FFR). It works like this: an external frequency emulating a recognized one will cause the brain to mimic it. So if a subject hears a frequency at the Theta level, it will shift from its resting Beta level. To achieve these unnatural levels, Hemi-Sync puts a single frequency in the left ear and a contrasting frequency in the right. The brain then experiences the Delta frequency, also known as the beat frequency. It’s more familiarly referred to these days as binaural beats. With the FFR and beat frequency phenomena firmly in place, The Gateway Process introduces a series of frequencies at marginally audible, subliminal levels. With the left brain relaxed and the body in a virtual sleep state, the conditions are ideal to promote brainwave outputs of higher and higher amplitude and frequency. Alongside subliminal suggestions from Bob Monroe (naturally), the subject can then alter their consciousness.
The Gateway system only works when the audio, which is introduced through headphones, is accompanied by a physical quietude comparable to other forms of meditation. This increases the subject’s internal resonance to the body’s sound frequencies, for example the heart. This eliminates the “bifurcation echo”, in which the heartbeat moves up and down the body seven times a second. By placing the body in a sleep-like state, The Gateway CD’s, like meditation, lessen the force and frequency of the heartbeat pushing blood into the aorta. The result is a rhythmic sine wave that in turn amplifies the sound volume of the heart three times. This then amplifies the frequency of brainwave output. The film surrounding the brain—the dura—and fluid between that film and the skull, eventually begin to move up and down, by .0005 and .010 millimeters.
The body, based on its own micro-motions, then functions as a tuned vibrational system. The report claims that the entire body eventually transfers energy at between 6.8 and 7.5 Hertz, which matches Earth’s own energy (7 - 7.5 Hertz). The resulting wavelengths are long, about 40,000 kilometers, which also happens to be the perimeter of the planet. According to Bentov, the signal can move around the world’s electrostatic field in 1/7th of a second.
To recap, the Gateway Process goes like this:
• Induced state of calm
• Blood pressure lowers
• Circulatory system, skeleton and other organ systems begin to vibrate at 7 - 7.5 cycles per second
• Increased resonance is achieved
• The resulting sound waves matches the electrostatic field of the earth
• The body and earth and other similarly tuned minds become a single energy continuum.
We’ve gotten slightly ahead of ourselves here though. Back to the drawing board.
A psycho-quantum level deeper
Wayne then turns to the very nature of matter and energy. More materially (or less if you will), solid matter in the strict construction of the term, he explains, doesn’t exist. The atomic structure is composed of oscillating energy grids surrounded by other oscillating energy grids at tremendous speeds. These oscillation rates vary—the nucleus of an atom vibrates at 10 to the power of 22, a molecule vibrates at 10 to the power of 9, a human cell vibrates at 10 to the power of 3. The point is that the entire universe is one complex system of energy fields. States of matter in this conception then are merely variations in the state of energy.
The result of all these moving energies, bouncing off of energy at rest, projects a 3D mode, a pattern, called a hologram, A.K.A our reality as we experience it. It's best to think of it as a 3D photograph. There’s a whole rabbit hole to go down here. Suffice it to say, the hologram that is our experience is incredibly good at depicting and recording all the various energies bouncing around creating matter. So good, in fact, that we buy into it hook, line, and sinker, going so far as to call it our "life."
Consciousness then can be envisaged as a 3D grid system superimposed over all energy patterns, Wayne writes. Using mathematics, each plane of the grid system can then reduce the data to a 2D form. Our binary (go/no go) minds can then process the data and compare it to other historical data saved in our memory. Our reality is then formed by comparisons. The right hemisphere of the brain acts as the primary matrix or receptor for this holographic input. The left hemisphere then compares it to other data, reducing it to its 2D form.
In keeping with our species' commitment to exceptionalism, as far as we know humans are uniquely capable of achieving this level of consciousness. Simply, humans not only know, but we know that we know. This bestows upon us the ability to duplicate aspects of our own hologram, project them out, perceive that projection, run it through a comparison with our own memory of the hologram, measure the differences using 3D geometry, then run it through our binary system to yield verbal cognition of the self.
The click-out phase
Wayne then shows his cards as a true punisher, issuing, "Up to this point our discussion of the Gateway process has been relatively simple and easy to follow. Now the fun begins." Shots fired, Wayne. What he's preparing the commander reading this heady report for is the reveal—how we can use the Gateway to transcend the dimension of spacetime.
Time is a measurement of energy or force in motion; it is a measurement of change. This is really important. For energy to be classified as in motion, it must be confined within a vibratory pattern that can contain its motion, keeping it still. Energy not contained like this is boundary-less, and moves without limit or dimension, to infinity. This disqualifies boundary-less energy from the dimension of time because it has no rate of change. Energy in infinity, also called "the absolute state," is completely at rest because nothing is accelerating or decelerating it—again, no change. It therefore does not contribute to our hologram, our physical experience. We cannot perceive it.
Now back to frequencies. Wave oscillation occurs because a wave is bouncing between two rigid points of rest. It's like a game of electromagnetic hot potato (the potato being the wave and the participants' hands being the boundaries of the wave). Without these limits, there would be no oscillation. When a wave hits one of those points of rest, just for a very brief instant, it "clicks out" of spacetime and joins infinity. For this to occur, the speed of the oscillation has to drop below 10 the power of -33 centimeters per second. For a moment, the wave enters into a new world. The potato simply disappears into a dimension we cannot perceive.
Theoretically speaking, if the human consciousness wave pattern reaches a high enough frequency, the “click-outs” can reach continuity. Put another way, if the frequency of human consciousness can dip below 10 to the power of 33 centimeters per second but above a state of total rest, it can transcend spacetime. The Gateway experience and associated Hemi-Sync technique is designed for humans to achieve this state and establish a coherent pattern of perception in the newly realized dimensions.
Passport to the hologram
In theory, we can achieve the above at any time. The entire process though is helped along if we can separate the consciousness from our body. It’s like an existential running head start where the click-out of a consciousness already separated from its body starts much closer to, and has more time to dialogue with, other dimensions.
This is where things get a little slippery; hold on as best you can. The universe is in on the whole hologram thing, too, Wayne writes. This super hologram is called a "torus" because it takes the shape of a fuck-off massive self-contained spiral. Like this:
Give yourself a moment to let the above motion sink in...
This pattern of the universe conspicuously mirrors the patterns of electrons around the nucleus of an atom. Galaxies north of our own are moving away from us faster than the galaxies to the south; galaxies to the east and west of us are more distant. The energy that produced the matter that makes up the universe we presently enjoy, will turn back in on itself eventually. Its trajectory is ovoid, also known as the cosmic egg. As it curls back on itself it enters a black hole, goes through a densely packed energy nucleus then gets spat out the other side of a white hole and begins the process again. Springtime in the cosmos, baby!
And that is the context in which the Gateway Experience sits.
[Deep breaths.]
THE TECHNIQUE
The following is an outline of the key steps to reach focus levels necessary to defy the spacetime dimension. This is an involved and lengthy process best attempted in controlled settings. If you’re in a rush, you can apparently listen to enough Monroe Institute Gateway Tapes in 7 days to get there.
The Energy Conversion Box: The Gateway Process begins by teaching the subject to isolate any extraneous concerns using a visualization process called “the energy conversion box.”
Resonant Humming: The individual is introduced to resonant humming. Through the utterance of a protracted single tone, alongside a chorus on the tapes, the mind and body achieve a state of resonance.
The Gateway Affirmation: The participant is exposed to something close to a mantra called The Gateway Affirmation. They must repeat to themselves variations of, “I am merely a physical body and deeply desire to expand my consciousness.”
Hemi-Sync: The individual is finally exposed to the Hemi-Sync sound frequencies, and encouraged to develop a relationship with the feelings that emerge.
Additional Noise: Physical relaxation techniques are practiced while the Hemi-Sync frequencies are expanded to include “pink and white” noise. This puts the body in a state of virtual sleep, while calming the left hemisphere and raising the attentiveness of the right hemisphere.
The Energy Balloon: The individual is then encouraged to visualize the creation of an “energy balloon” beginning at the top of the head, extending down in all directions to the feet then back up again. There are a few reasons for this, the main one being that this balloon will provide protection against conscious entities possessing lower energy levels that he or she may encounter when in the out-of-body state.
Focus 12: The practitioner can consistently achieve sufficient expanded awareness to begin interacting with dimensions beyond their physical reality. To achieve this state requires conscious efforts and more “pink and white noise” from the sound stream.
Tools: Once Focus 12 is achieved, the subject can then employ a series of tools to obtain feedback from alternate dimensions.
Problem Solving: The individual identifies fundamental problems, fills their expanded awareness with them, and then projects them out into the universe. These can include personal difficulties, as well as technical or practical problems.
Patterning: Consciousness is used to achieve desired objectives in the physical, emotional, or intellectual sphere.
Color Breathing: A healing technique that revitalizes the body’s energy flows by imagining colors in a particularly vivid manner.
Energy Bar Tool: This technique involves imagining a small intensely pulsating dot of light that the participant charges up. He or she then uses the sparkling, vibrating cylinder of energy (formerly known as the dot) to channel forces from the universe to heal and revitalize the body.
Remote Viewing: A follow-on technique of the Energy Bar Tool where the dot is turned into a whirling vortex through which the individual sends their imagination in search of illuminating insights.
Living Body Map: A more organized use of the energy bar in which streams of different colors flow from the dot on to correspondingly-colored bodily systems.
Seven days of training have now occurred. Approximately 5 percent of participants get to this next level, according to the report.
Focus 15 - Travel Into the Past: Additional sound on the Hemi-Sync tapes includes more of the same, plus some subliminal suggestions to further expand the consciousness. The instructions are highly symbolic: time is a huge wheel, in which different spokes give access to the participant’s past.
Focus 21 - The Future: This is the last and most advanced state. Like Focus 15, this is a movement out of spacetime into the future.
Out-of-Body Movement: Only one tape of the many is devoted to out-of-body movement. This tape is devoted to facilitating an out-of-body state when the participant’s brain wave patterns and energy levels reach harmony with the surrounding electromagnetic environment. According to Bob Monroe, the participant has to be exposed to Beta signals of around 2877.3 cycles per second.
CONCLUSIONS
Wayne expresses concern about the fidelity of information brought back from out-of-body states using the Gateway technique. Practical applications are of particular concern because of the potential for “information distortion.”
The Monroe Institute also ran into a bunch of issues in which they had individuals travel from the West to the East Coast of the U.S. to read a series of numbers off of a computer screen. They never got them exactly right. Wayne chalks this up to the trouble of differentiating between physical entities and extra-time-space dimensions when in the out-of-body state.
Wayne swings back to support mode though, lending credence to the physics foundation of the report. He cites multiple belief systems that have established identical findings. These include the Tibetan Shoug, the Hindu heaven of Indra, the Hebrew mystical philosophy, and the Christian concept of the Trinity. Here he seems more interested in hammering home the theoretical underpinnings that make The Gateway Experience possible, rather than the practical possibilities promised by The Gateway Tapes.
Possibly with his CIA top brass audience in mind, Wayne then gives an A-type nod to The Gateway Experience for providing a faster, more efficient, less subservient, energy-saving route to expanded consciousness. This finishes with a series of recommendations to the CIA for how to exploit Gateway’s potential for national defense purposes.
The missing page
One curious feature of The Gateway Report is that it seems to be missing page 25. It’s a real cliffhanger too. The bottom of page 24 reads “And, the eternal thought or concept of self which results from this self-consciousness serves the,” The report picks back up on page 26 and 3 sections later as if Wayne hadn’t just revealed the very secret of existence.
The gap has not gone unnoticed. There's a Change.org petition requesting its release. Multiple Freedom of Information Act requests have demanded the same. In all cases, the CIA has said they never had the page to begin with. Here’s a 2019 response from Mark Lilly, the CIA’s Information and Privacy Coordinator, to one Bailey Stoner regarding these records:
One theory goes that that rascal Wayne M.-fricking-McDonnell left the page out on purpose. The theory contends that it was a litmus test—if anyone truly defies time-space dimensions, they’ll certainly be able to locate page 25.
[Cosmic shrug.]
Writing Credit Vice
​
CIA Declassified Report– The Gateway Experience
Here is a copy of the Missing Page 25
There will be a Gateway Help Post following within the next couple days. Thought you might be interested in a little history in the meantime. Cheers!

How It Ended
by Ethan O’Driscoll
A thrilling Post apocalypse story
Intro
HRV-1
22 July 2024
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
This is my latest report on the HRV-1 Virus we were instructed to design by the Russian Government.
The HRV-1 is an incredibly viral and infectious Retrovirus similar to HIV. Changes have been make on a genetic level to provide the request modes of transmission and symptoms.
Those symptoms are:

• Profuse bleeding from the mouth, eyes, lips, gums and pores of the skin
• Confusion
• Coma
• Total organ failure leading to death
• Reanimation after death and post-mortem hypo-aggression

This all included in a highly infectious package
The infection vectors are:

• bodily fluids
• contaminated area
• ANYTHING that has come in contact with infected bodily fluids
• airborne droplets

This is by far the most dangerous diseases we’ve ever designed. I pray to god the Russians only want it as a means of deterrent because if they use it I have no doubt it will end the world. The first sample should be ready to ship next week.
Chapter 1
The Outbreak
1 January 2025
Dr Olivia Warren Head of Biotech NARU
I can’t believe the bastards used it. The first cases came in from Kiev in December from there it spread like a wild fire through Europe the death toll now sits at 65 millions. The hordes rampage through city after city by the millions. There is no way to stop this. What have I done.
NATO forces have established a quarantine of Europe but I can’t help but feel like its too little too late. My estimate is that all infected nations in Europe will be consumed within the next month or two. The Corporation has started the construction of a company safe haven for us higher ups. All we can do is hope the construction is complete before this thing breaks quarantine.
15 February 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
The world is ending. Europe is gone. The quarantine is broken. We’ve got cases in Asia, South America, Here at home in the US, Australia and Africa nowhere is safe. I did this.
Infection number right now:

• Africa 100 Million
• Europe 890 Million
• Asia 250 Million
• North America 250 Thousand
• South America 120 Million
• Australia 24 Million

There is no hope
The safe zone is complete at least we are planning on moving all operations and personal within the week. I don’t know how I’m going to live with myself. Dixie is my only saving grace and at least she’ll be safe. I pray for the soul of all those my creation has killed.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
Chapter 2
A New World
My name is Dixie Warren. Daughter of Dr Olivia Warren. Not that I’ve seen her in 15 years. I remember like it was yesterday. She told me to get on that NARU helicopter that she’d meet me at the safe zone. Those were the last words she ever said to me. I was 8 when the world ended.
Its been 15 years since the Outbreak. There isn’t really anything left of the old world. NARU still exists and turns out they created the virus and my mom was the head of the department that did it. They sold it to the Russians hoping they wouldn’t use it but they did.
It was specifically designed to spread and destroy as fast as possible and it did. I left the safe zone 2 years ago after I learned this information. Now I just spend my time wandering from town to town. My training on the NARU security team helps. At least I know all the best places to shoot a Freaker. That's what we call the infected and for good reason. Most of the time you’ll find them wondering around in groups of 5 to 10 if the group gets too big they turn on each other and form a pile of bodies devouring each other. They moan and scream to communicate and once they see you they will hunt you till you kill every last on of them or you get far enough away. They can run and are abnormally strong if there bodies aren’t damaged they’re a bitch to kill but I’m pretty good at it.
Right now I’m outside Richmond I’ve been stuck here for a week waiting for a large horde to move through. I’m hoping to hunt some of the stragglers and re-up on some supplies. A big horde like this usually leave a few hundred behind. My new AR has been waiting for some fun, I’ve got a new red dot and laser so I should be able to pop headshot after headshot but for now I should go find something to eat.
I’ve made it to a small department store outside the town. It looks like the horde is almost gone. Tons of freaks roaming around though. I can hear a few in the store. I’m going to try getting in through the back and take them out.
Made it back home and wow that store was a gold mine. I got food, water, bullets and even some whiskey. I’m going to enjoy the night then its time to hunt some stragglers. Then I’m thinking of going further south maybe New Orleans heard there might be a small settlement out there from another traveller, might be able to get another courier job or at least I’ll be able to stock up on supplies properly after all these years there isn’t much left in the cities to scavenge.
I better get some rest got a long day of freak killing and walking tomorrow.
Chapter 3
The Road to Home
I left Richmond yesterday. It’s a long road to New Orleans I wished I lived in the days when cars worked. NARU are the only people with working vehicles left and they aren’t exactly the sharing type. Its so lonely out here its been weeks since I last saw another living person the only things you see out here in the ruins are freaks by the hundreds. Its hard to believe the whole world was reduced to nothing by something my mom created. I remember her being the kindest most caring person in the world to think that she could create something so destructive is unbelievable. I’ve still got a long way to go the first city I should have to go through is Raleigh.
I’ve been walking for about a day and I can see the ruins from here. Its always so surreal to see the cities now, so desolate so empty. I remember growing up in Seattle, the city lights, the noise it was always so alive and busy. Now they’re all empty husks or mostly empty at least can’t forget about the freaks. Must’ve killed a thousand of them on my way here almost got bitten when one jumped me under an overpass about 10 miles back. Luckily my machete seems to be as good as ever at cutting up freaks. I should make it to Raleigh within the day.
Made it to Raleigh and its a mess, thousands of freaks I could hear the moaning and screaming from a mile away. I’m going to try finding my way around the city no point in trying to fight my way through a wall of freaks.
Heard crying coming from a house I walked past I decided to check it out and I found a young boy name Richie hiding in a bathroom with what looked like his infected parents trying to break the door down. I took both of them down with a clean headshot. The look on his face when he saw them dead breaks my heart. He says they’ve been hiding out in this house for a month or two after there homestead was overrun by freaks. Its a sad story but it gives me hope that people are at least trying to survive and rebuilt. He’s only 16 yet he’s seen so much and has nowhere else to go so I asked him if he wanted to stick with me and he was elated so I guess I’ve got a sidekick now. I’m not complaining should make the long lonely road more interesting. He’s got no combat experience but he can shoot a pistol so I gave him one of my backups at least I always carry extra. We’ve decided to hunker down for the night and do some scavenging before we leave for Charlotte tomorrow. I’ll be nice to have company for once I’ve been alone for so long.
I woke up to a gunshot and Richie screaming in the other room. When I got there I found Richie pale as snow and a little girl that was clearly infected shot lying on the floor. When I asked Richie who it was he replied in a cold distant voice “My little sister”. It was a heart breaking moment in less than 24 hours Richie had lost everyone. That was a feeling I knew too well my mom was all I had my dad died when I was really young and all I knew after the Outbreak before I left the safe haven was NARU but that wasn’t the best place to build personal connections just a bunch of science types that destroyed the world. Not exactly the most social lot and the security forces were just a bunch of military types that didn’t like the fact that as a teenager I was doing better than them in every metric except raw physical strength but even in that I was better than a lot of them. It’s almost time for us to get going I should pack up and make sure Richie’s okay.
We decided to stop by the old gun store on our way out of Raleigh. Richie mentioned seeing it when him and his dad went out to scavenge one time. He says it looked all locked up meaning there’s a good chance that there might still be something left to take. When we arrived there Richie was right it was locked tight it looked like there might be a way in from the roof so we decided to climb up when I got up there I was jumped by a freak that was just waiting but this one was different smarter in a way it heard me climbing up but instead of screaming and jumping off to get me it decided to hide and wait. In my years of freak killing I’ve never seen one that waits and ambushes. I hope this isn’t a sign that the infected are getting smarter. Anyway Richie popped it in the head and we got in to the gun store and what a find it was. I managed to get a brand new Glock 9 with a torch attachment and extended mag to replace the pistol I gave Richie. Speaking of Richie he decided on a 12 gauge pump with a tube extension and a AR-15 with a suppressor, extended mag and front grip. We also found enough ammo to keep us stocked even if we have to shoot our way to Charlotte now that we’re locked and loaded its time to leave this shit hole and start walking to the next shit hole at least for once I won’t be alone.
Chapter 4
The Road to Charlotte
We’d been walking for 60 miles before we were jumped by a gang of thugs. I caught a round to the leg before I knew what was happening Richie was more awake than me and managed to put a round through the bastards chest before his friends jumped out from behind two cars in front of us we managed to take cover behind a ruined car and we returned fire. I could see the thugs had no skill they just fired randomly in our direction while we were in cover I waited till they had to reload and tossed a molotov at one of them burning the bastard to a crisp. Richie rushed the other and unloaded some buckshot into his head. My leg hurts like a bitch. Richie bandaged it up for me he’s really starting to get used to life on the road. Looking at our map it looks like there is a gas station about 10 miles away so I guess I’ll limp my way there so we can hunker down while me leg heals. I still can’t believe I let the bastard catch me lacking but it won’t happen again
We made it too the gas station. The place looks almost perfectly preserved except the group of freaks that were shuffling around outside nothing that we couldn’t deal with. There is a lot of food and water here and we should be safe here while my leg heals. I hope we don’t run into any more problems till then. I trust Richie but he’s still learning and I’m not sure he’d be able to deal with any major problem on his own.
Its been 4 weeks since I took that shot to my leg and I’m feeling a lot better. Richie managed to find some painkiller so he was able to get the round out and everything healed nicely. He really is an amazing guy young and naive but he really is a good person. I don’t know how I did it without him for so long. It nice not being alone any more. I think I’m ready to get moving again we have about another 100 miles left to go before we get to Charlotte so we better get moving.
We’re about 20 miles from Charlotte, the roads been peaceful we ran into a group of survivors living on a pretty well fortified farm about 25 miles back. They were having issues with some freaks hanging around their water pumping station so we dealt with them for them in exchange for some antibiotics to help with an infection Richie got in his leg where he cut himself jumping a fence while a freak chased him before I could dome it. Only god knows how I didn’t get an infection in my leg after getting shot but he did from cutting himself on a rusty fence guess I’m just lucky. After helping them back we continued on our way. Nothing else interesting happened and Richie is looking a lot better and his cut is basically healed. We should get to Charlotte within the day but I want to stop on a hill on the Outskirts to set up base and get a look at the situation in the city because the farmers mentioned that a horde had passed through recently and they usually get held up in cities they should have moved on by now but better safe than sorry
Chapter 5
Charlotte
We made it to the hill outside Charlotte and the place is infested millions of freaks. I’ve never seen so many of them in one place and I think I know why. In the middle of the city is an old NARU emergency treatment centre. A place where all of the cities first infected were sent. A good plan till there were to many of them and quarantine was broken then all it was was a collection of infected right in the middle of the city which lead to the whole thing being infected much faster. I’m guessing this caused most of the freaks to pile and the smell was attracting more. Oh I forgot to mention the smell imagine a pile of thousands of rotting corpses that’s the smell I’m talking about. There’s no chance we’ll be able to get through the city but I need to get to that NARU site. There might be some old documents or something about my mom I need to find out what happened to her. I’ve spoken to Richie and we both agree that we should try and divert the horde away so we can have time to get to the NARU centre.
Richie has volunteered to draw the hordes attention away while I get to the NARU building. The plan is he triggers an explosion at an old gas station on the other side of town while I get to the building and look for information about the virus and what happened to my mom. All I know is that my mom created the virus while working for NARU. I need to find out what happened to her. I hate putting Richie at risk but it needs to be done.
I just heard the explosion and it works thousands of freaks started moving like a tidal wave of flesh towards the sound I hope Richie is on his way to the meeting place at the abandoned NARU checkpoint on the south side of town but I don’t have time to think about it now I’m almost at the NARU centre I need to be as fast as possible
I made it to the NARU centre and it’s covered in bodies there’s no way I can get in it looks more like a pile of living human corpses than a building I’m guessing the freaks all turned on and consumed each other till they were all stuck and fused together. I’m making my way to the NARU checkpoint I hope Richie is already there and safe.
I made it to the NARU checkpoint and reunited with Richie. He was covered in blood and gore. He had to kill hundreds of freaks to make it here. He says he was almost bitten a few times. I can’t believe I risked his life for nothing. I’ll never do it again. While exploring the place I found this.
20 March 2025
Dr Olivia Warren
Dixie is at the Safe zone.
I can’t live with myself any more. 4 billion people dead
The final communication between my mom and NARU it turns out she couldn’t live with the guilt and decided to kill herself. I can’t blame her I would probably do the same if I was the reason the world ended and killed billions of people but it still breaks my heart. I am happy to know she’s dead and not infected lumbering around somewhere.
Richie is exhausted and so am I were going to take a brake here and continue on to Atlanta tomorrow.
Everything is packed up and we’re ready to go. Last night was rough I kept watch while Richie slept I hate to admit it but I think I’m falling in love with him. I never really had a first love I live for 13 years at NARU but I was the oldest kid there by far by the time any of the boys were close to my age I was already jaded and thinking about leaving so I didn’t pay any attention to them but Richie is different when I found him he was so helpless and lost now he’s strong, confident and he’s so loyal to me. I don’t want to speak to soon by I think he might feel the same way I guess time will tell we still have a long road to walk together. Speaking of walking Atlanta here we come.
Chapter 6
Road to Atlanta
We ran into a group of survivors hiding in a shed on the outskirts of Charlotte on our way home two parents and a little girl they were all bitten and waiting to turn they begged us to put them down before they turned so I did but I think it took a toll on Richie. He’s been almost silent since it must’ve reminded him of his parents and little sister I hope the day never comes that one of us get bitten and the other one has to decide whether or not to do it but if it does I hope Richie has what it takes to put me down if not I hope I get to do it myself before I turn but I shouldn’t be thinking about things like that. Thinking about your own death is a pretty sure-fire way to make it happen.
We ran into a pretty large group of infected must’ve been about 20 of them but all of them behaved the same as the one that jumped me on the roof of the gun store back in Raleigh. I guess that confirms that it wasn’t a once off thing but I still wonder what causes it maybe I’ll find out one day. We took them all down and continued on I hate to admit it but I really enjoy killing freaks call it therapy I guess. Richie is running low on ammo for his 12 gauge. There should be a gun store in about 30 miles so we should be able to restock there. My ammo supplies are also running a bit low only got about a hundred rounds per gun left. I know that sounds like a lot but with all the freaks on the roads it barely enough after Raleigh I had about a 500 per gun. Lets hope we don’t run into any large hordes till we get to the gun store.
We made it to the gun store just to find it controlled by 2 less than friendly guys. They opened fire as soon as they same us. We returned fire and we’re about to enter the store. Richie kicked the door down and I rushed in I let of two shots taking down the one guy the other was a second away from filling me with bullets from his Uzi but luckily Richie put a round through his chest and another through his right eye before he could. Thank god. I don’t know what I would do without him. We’ve decided to rest tonight and continue tomorrow morning.
Dixie: “Hey Richie”
Richie: “Hey Dixie”
Dixie: ”How you feeling buddy”
Richie: ”Oh you know always OK”
Dixie: ”That’s good buddy”
Richie: “Hey Dixie thank you for everything you really are the best thing that ever happened to me”
Dixie: ”Don’t mention it buddy I love you”
We’re almost 20 miles away from Atlanta and I’m not hopeful judging by smell. I’m guessing its going to be a lot worse than Charlotte but we’ll have to wait and see.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Atlanta and its as bad as I thought there are hundreds of body piles almost the size of buildings. The living freaks move around the city streets like blood through the veins of the body. Some of them are engaged in massive fights with other groups ripping each other apart.
We’re going in tomorrow but for now Richie’s hunting while I scope out the area. I hope he brings some venison anything but rabbit. I’m sick of rabbit meat. When he comes back I want to try and cuddle up to him and see what happens
Richie and I have eaten and we’re getting ready to sleep. I asked Richie if I could sleep in his sleeping bag with him. He looked at me like I was crazy but once I insisted I was serious I could see the joy on his face so we cuddled up for the night and went to sleep
Wow it felt so amazing sleeping in Richie’s arms and today everything feels different but in a good way everything just feels more intimate we had an amazing conversation about life this morning and it feels like our bond is on a whole new level. Its time to go explore Atlanta there should be an old NARU field hospital on the North-side of town but we’ve got a whole city to get through before that.
Chapter 7
Atlanta
Atlanta is a nightmare right now we’re stuck in a pharmacy bunch of freaks trying to get to us. I’m busy wiring up a pipe bomb while Richie holds the door then when I’m done BOOM
Richie Move....
BOOM....
Well that’s one way to deal with freaks. Always hate being covered in gore though. We’re near the city centre now and its as bad as we thought the place is infested with freaks every building, street and alley we’ve been fighting for every mile we’ve been moving basically carving our way through the city leaving streets flooded in blood but its worth it I can see the NARU hospital and it looks like I might be able to get in this time.
We’re Exploring the NARU hospital and its a goldmine I found a bunch of old documentation on the virus and even some reports of small towns keeping quarantine for years after the Fall. There’s also apparently an old supply and weapons depot nearby so were going there next.
Richie has been opening up a lot his little sister was out playing when a freak got her. Her parents couldn’t put her down so she turned and bit them he hid in the bathroom for 2 days before I got there and put then out of the misery. I wish I could understand how he feels because I never had anyone except my mom and I lost her so young so it never really affected me. I love him so much. This would be so difficult without him.
We made it to the NARU supply depot and it basically empty I mean it make sense Atlanta was one of the first city to fall due to vast number of infected that moved in from the nearby NARU detention camp. That was a bright idea locking up a bunch infected in one place and expecting the place to last. So the city fell to chaos pretty quickly and NARU withdrew most likely taking everything with them that or it was looted after the city fell doesn’t matter now its almost night and we should get some rest we’re going to camp on a nearby rooftop.
Sitting on the roof with Richie and a fire I can’t help but feel like life isn’t that bad yeah its not what it used to be but I mean I have food and freedom and someone I love what more could someone want from life. Looking out at the desolate streets full of freaks well except the streets we pushed through I see the death of the old world and the birth of a new one.
I should get to sleep we got a long road to Birmingham tomorrow. Its so warm and cosy pressed up against Richie.
Chapter 8
The Road To Birmingham
On our way out of Atlanta we ran into a huge freak and I mean a huge motherfucker must’ve been at least 10 feet tall and covered in muscle it looked like it was made of at least 5 other freaks. He tossed Richie against a car and knocked him out I managed to chop one of its arms off before it threw me 10 feat in the air and I crashed down on my back and passed out when I woke up Richie was putting round after round in the things chest and it still wouldn’t go down to I ran jumped on its back and used my machete to chop the freaks head off and burnt the body with a molotov just to be sure the thing was dead
Richie was pretty beat up and I’m not going to lie so was I my back hurts like a bitch but we keep on going no matter what because we still have each other. Still I wonder how those freaks got combined into that thing. Maybe that’s why they pile the way they do so they can combine into something bigger I remember something in one of the NARU document mentioning the virus being able to cause “cellular recombination” so I wonder if that’s not maybe what happened and if it is it means things are about to get a lot worse and a lot more dangerous.
We’re about 50 miles always from Birmingham now. The road has been pretty quite only the occasional group of freaks and the group of raiders we ran into outside a gas station awhile back but this time we got the drop on them and not the other way round gave all three of them a new hole in the head Richie was worried that they might be survivors till we found Sandra tied up in the gas station bathroom turns out the bastards grabbed her from her family farm during the night a few days ago and have been taking turns on her over and over since then. We agreed to take her home its the least we could do after everything that happened to her. When we got her home we found the place burnt down and her family butchered outside. I’m guessing after they grabbed her the bastards came back to finish the job. She’s decided to stick with us she’s a lot older than me and Richie. She used to be a nurse before the Outbreak she dealt with some of the first infected until NARU took over the hospitals. When things really started to go bad she moved back to Alabama to her old family farm to live with her parents they managed to set everything up before the Fall and have been living there since well till recently. She’s pretty shook about the whole situation but she should be okay in a day or two. We’ve all lost something in this new world.
We’ve made it to the outskirts of Birmingham and the place is a fortress looks like remnants of the US military and NARU have fortified the place they have watch towers, auto-turrents and armed patrols. Also looks like they have a lot of military hardware. I know better than to approach the main gate NARU has a shoot on site order for all there quarantine zones no reason to assume this place would be any different. Still I have to get a look inside. Tonight while Richie and Sandra set up camp I’m going to look around and see if I can find a way in. I have to know what’s going on here.
I’ve taken a look around and I’ve found a way in through an old sewer pipe running into an old factory from there I should be able to sneak into the city and have a look around maybe they have some new information on the virus or at least I should be able to find some weapons for Sandra
Chapter 9
Birmingham
Richie and Sandra are waiting for me back at camp while I go explore the city. I left most of my kit behind except my Glock and combat knife. I’m not planning on getting into any fights and if I do I want the finished as quickly as possible. I’ve made it to the sewer pipe it should lead me to the sewer grate I saw on the other side of the fence from there I should have free reign over the city as long as I avoid the NARU patrols and don’t draw to much attention to myself.
I’ve made it into the city and it looks like something out of a George Orwell novel. Security cameras on every street, I’ve seen security forces beat a man to death and another group drag a young women kicking and screaming into an abandoned building. I hate to say it but I think life is better outside with the freaks than in here. Can’t say I’m surprised there’s a reason I left the NARU security forces and the safe zone. Lets just say civilian life and happiness has never been on their priority list. I can see a NARU supply depot I should be able to get a uniform and standard load out last I remember NARU doesn’t have a way of removing employees from the database so my security id number should still work.
I was right NARU never changes I just used my id to get a brand new NARU-P-2a NARU's home grown assault rifle basically its everything the AR-15 is but better its literally a gun made for killing freaks and you can feel it. I always wished I stole one when I left but I guess better late than never I also scanned through a few of the latest security reports and it seems like big guys like we fought back in Atlanta are becoming more common as well as a new faster infected with razor sharp claws that hunt and ambush their victims. We haven’t ran into one of those yet and I hope we don’t any time soon. I hope Richie and Sandra are okay, they should be we have no shortage of fire-power but I still worry. I’m going to keep taking a look around and maybe find out how they’ve maintained quarantine for so long
Well I got my answer and its not a good one. The NARU higher ups here basically outlawed being sick. Anyone with any symptoms that might be HRV-1 are immediately executed and burnt without exception I guess that’s one way to maintain quarantine but I can’t help but wonder how many thousands of innocent people have died to maintain it.
I think its about time I get out of here and back to Richie and Sandra.
I made it back to camp. I’m so happy to be back with Richie. He went out hunting and brought back a nice fat wild pig for dinner. Sandra is looking a lot better as well she still has that distant look in her eye but that should go away soon
Next stop Montgomery Alabama.
Chapter 10
The Road to Montgomery
I still can’t get it out of my head. The freaks are changing getting more dangerous, if I understand correctly the longer they are infected the more unstable the virus gets leading to mutations. I hope this doesn’t mean that the longer we survive the harder its going to get but there’s no point in worrying about whether or not the freaks are going to be stronger in the future as long as we make sure we get stronger too it should work out just fine. Richie and I are doing really well our love kinda makes everything a lot easier. Gives us a reason if that makes sense Sandra on the other hand is kinda dead weight if I’m being honest but its not her fault. She’s been through a lot Richie and I do our best to look out for her and take care of her. I just wish she’d start to adjust to life out here she still winches every time we take out a group of freaks or thugs and she’s a bleeding heart. Yesterday as we were going past a little abandoned convenience store we heard a little girl crying when we asked what was wrong she said they were trapped and needed help. It was obviously a trap we could see the store was fortified and the little girl looked too happy for a kid whose parents were stuck and dying but Sandra insisted we go in and help and what do you know the kids parents are perfectly healthy and holding us at gun point luckily I’m pretty quick on the draw and managed to put two rounds through the fathers chest and Richie tackled the mom. I walked up to the big dude and put one through the head to make sure the mom learns her lesson. We agreed to let her and her daughter live as long as the promised to stop robbing travellers. Sandra couldn’t handle the fact that I finished the dad off even though I think that was better than leaving his family to watch him bleed out because there was no way he would have survive I shot him through both of his lungs they would have filled up with blood and he would have chocked to death I did him a favour by putting him down but she didn’t see it that way even threatened to go it on her own until Richie and I told her to go ahead if she really thought it was the best thing for her. She then decided to stick with us
We’re nearly at the outskirts of Montgomery, we just passed the old civil rights monument. The roads been a bit too still I have a bad feeling about what we’re going to find when we get there

I actually pretty much at this point feel that I have what we all fear. I've been feeling increasingly bad for the past weeks. The tightness, pain , pre-crampy, cramps and hyperreflexive state of my legs in particular is becoming unbearable and I feel how my mobility is becoming a bit affected because of that. I feel like I am in a constant pain and if I do some physical activity the after soreness is also terrible. I feel this in all of my body but especially legs. If I tap the tendon of my knees, my legs fly violently forward (I know i shouldn't self test this but during my last neuro exam this was also clearly noted. The report says I have +3/+3 reflexes in both legs. Arms also brisk.. ). What I am certain about is that I didn't have such brisk reflexes before all this started and I feel this has been getting increasingly worse with time. I feel like im very easily startled, if something accidentaly touches my legs it would sometimes trigger the reflexes.
At the same time my twitching has been getting more intense. I have almost constant fasciculations of whole body. Every muscle has been affected. It has also changed pattern a bit. Instead of random single pops (allthough still getting a lot) I am getting longer bouts of twitching lasting up to a minute, firing very frequntley in all muscles of my torso each time I cough or sneeze or when I roll in bed. Legs going on constantly but not just calves. Every muscle of my legs twitches from glutes to feet . Very frequent twitching in my jaw, neck and bulbar area but aso common in eyebrows and forehead, even scalp. Arms also affected. The other day both arms were twitching at the same time..
I feel extremely tired and sore all the time . I have also felt periods of shortness of breath these past days. Perceived difficulty speaking and mild swallowing issues. These have been going on for several months already without really worsening but are not going away either and I can definetly tell there's something very wrong going on with my body. Everything feels off.

• Author's Note: So! With Book #1 finishing at Issue #61 we now go into Book #2. The situation is changed for our protagonist and he's had it... decently rough, but always had people behind him for help. Wonder how his new position will affect him and his choices? We'll have to wait and see. Enjoy this little snippet to start us off with to the next leg of his journey! Also you can check character art of the Beast World characters or others on my Ko-Fi page! If you enjoy my art, I just opened comissions as well so hit me up if you want to get a piece!

Michael stepped through the dark woods at a slightly above leisure pace. The first rays of the dawn's light haven't yet penetrated the ironclad cover of the forest's canopy. Its thickness held together the shroud of darkness below, only small shreds of it peaking through rarely. Although he knew he walked a familiar path, the reduced visibility made the walk nearly alien, with a stumble here and a trip there, an uncertainty started to seep into Michael's chest even if he didn't know it.
'Alright. It is going to take a bit to get there, but I'll be making it in time. So... daeman. Based on what I know they are just basically pink demons. Ok, ok, ok... I've done this until now on a dime... I just... phew... just gotta do my character research. Yeah... just like theater. Literally it is just theatrics. So... what's a demon? Well if years of playing dnd thought me anything is that they are either feral, unhinged and nuts OR eerily calm, imposing, calculated and scheeming. I did both of those and a demon that can do both is even worse. Just gotta switch between those when it makes sense. Mhmm... so personality wise... basically gotta switch between one of those pointy eared muscle covered hounds and a chihuahua that can actually bite, not just bark.'
While the nervous human revised his 'role', he'd already start to adjust his body language. As if by instinct he'd lift his shoulders and roll them back, his spine popping as he straightened, shoulders relaxing and dropping at ease after that. This move would straighten his posture entirely and push out his ribcage and chest, something his mother drilled into his head over the years as being a confident, yet relaxed posture when done right. He'd straighten his head's posture, from the neck, which nearly made him look like it was positioned up from a downward perspective, requiring him to literally look down upon someone with his eyes. His hands were curled up nearing to fists, yet hung relaxed, as if to show an eager readiness for violence. As a last touch up instead of stepping quietly as he got used to over the years, he'd let his steps announce his presence, as one who's afraid of nothing would.
After traveling a bit over half of the treck towards the river and where the Rock Backs would be situated, there would be a clear sight of lights up ahead in the distance, clearly from torches. Michael would gaze at them with a bit of confusion, but regardless he kept on walking closer and openly. Slowly, three figures would be more visible, one of them turned showing as to either be themselves striped or have brown stripes painted on their back.
Only half a second of hesitation would pass as the human took in a deep breath and he then shouted out. "Ay! You three. You're with the Rock Backs, correct?" He'd say while showing quite the enthusiastic face despite his true feelings of nervousness.
As he had guessed, indeed the trio seemed to be Tuskir and the stripes confirmed their alegiance as expected. The figures turned to face him properly as he shouted in his approach. Once he got a bit closer, one of them that was a bit more upfront huffed a not so pleased snort at him.
"Aye. We were sent ahead to guide ya to our encampment, Daeman." He replied with a clear displeasure to his tone.
Another one of them stood silent as he just glared at Michael, while the third let out a guttural squeal and spat on the ground. "Well? What ya waitin' fer, hellspawn? Pick up the pace and keep yer paws where we can see 'em. Just cause ya struck a deal with Bruyza, it don't mean we gotta like ya."
"Dawww. Isn't this nice? We already seem to be getting along and on the same page. I've a feeling we'll be sharing stories soon while braidin' one another's hair, eh? You'd look good with twin tails." Michael said smirking while looking at the third Tuskir who haf a wilder mane and carried himself in a heavier looking armor than the other two.
The human continued his walk with the trio, but something didn't sit right with him. While they walked, two of the three had put out and discarded their torches. As they walked forward wordlessly, those same two boar men would also position themself to the sides and back of Michael, doing so nearly seemlessly, but not enough for the human not to notice.
While they advanced, Michael would peek at them with the corners of his eyes while also glancing forward at the only one who still had a light source. 'This doesn't feel right. I know for certain we were to meet at the same place as before... am I being paranoid? Alright... think. If they were afraid I'd not show up they'd wait until the time was up and then came to us... there's no reason for them to think I need escorts since I'm supposed to be a big scary strong thing. Eeeeh... why are these shmucks here then?"
Michael started taking into consideration multiple reasons that could be possible for his unexpected escort to be present, but none of them made sense. With his uneasiness building up, he'd sling his backpack off and hold it, quickly getting the attention of the two at the back.
"What do you think yer doin', hellspawn?" One of them asked while putting a hand on an axe hung by his belt.
"Hm? Oh, cut down on that paranoia. Makes you seem pathetic. This meat form I had to take to be here has needs. One of them happens to be water. If you've ever heard of somethin' like that, or... what? Do you milk rocks up in the mountains to sustain yourselves?" Michael would reply with a chuckle as he taunted his escort while starting to rustle objects in his backpack with his hand.
"You... hnngh-..." The Rock Back grunted and huffed as he muttered between clenched teeth.
Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Michael would feel about and find one of his tiny Woh flask potions and he'd use his fingers to tuck it into the band of his bracer at the wrist, before grasping a hold of a small water skin and pulling it out. 'Heh. Well, I might not be a good slight of hand at pocker, but I didn't learn to hide pieces of paper in my sleeves for nothing. Stressful, but thanks to that I passed chemistry in highschool.' He'd think while smirking at the one of the escort he just antagonized, giving him a double eyebrow wiggle lift up as he took a sip of his water.
"You really like talkin' daeman, or you just like the sound o' your voice?" The armored one asked, who also happened to be the one with the torch at the front. He walked with his back turned at the human, not even trying to gaze back as he spoke.
"Eh. I find conversing with you meat sacks at least a bit intriguing. It is fun to hear what thoughts run through those narrow minds of yours. Why are you asking? Interested in actually entertaining me in conversation?" Michael would reply as he packed his waterskin once more and put his backpack back on.
"Thought ta meself it'd be crazy to converse with somethin' like ya, but then I realized, what da hell, when am I ta get another chance like this?" The Tuskir continued while slowing his pace, as if to let Michael approach to make their talk easier to get into.
The human naturally inched closer bit by bit as he simply walked, his smirk still on his expression. He'd keep vigilent of the two in the back while moving up in the small formation. "Indeed. Perhaps I'll be able to satisfy some of your curio-"
Before he could finish his sentence, the armored tuskir in front of him stopped dead in his tracks, turning with a decently large vial of liquid and herbs in his other hand and he'd splash Michael right in the face. Surprised by the sudden violent spill of liquid against his face, the human would close his eyes and bring his hands to his face to quickly wipe away the liquid. While blinded in this manner, his guard would be shattered as a brutal force would then slam into his right side, making Michael buckle as he got sent rolling in the opposite direction.
"HAHAHA! GOT 'IM GOOD, DIDN' I?!" exclaimed one of the two Tuskir from the back, who was armed with a club, right after he just bashed up the human.
Michael took a half second to realize he just got attacked, with the hand that had the vial hidden against its wrist pushup to his eyes to wipe them, he'd push himself up on the other wobbly like. He was afraid to try and open his eyes, unknowing what he got splashed with so instead he bit on the cork of his poison vial, opened it and stashed it in his cheek, as he dripped the solution on his tongue while wiping his eyes. "I- I can't see-..." he groaned loudly while trying to get his footing.
"Yeah. You got 'im good." The armored tuskir said while tossing the vial aside. "Better prepare yourself fer a sudden departure daeman. We'll make sure ta send ya back to the firey pit ya came from. Hope ya liked a lil' taste o' holy water. Keep ya well on your way back." He'd say while taking a handaxe off of his own belt.
"Hah ha ha... Sadly fer ya, not all o' us are keen on makin' deals with hell filth. Bruyza ain' gonn' be happy with ya missin' but is expected of daemen to be shifty scum, so yer missin' presence will be easy ta explain when we're all... surprised yer missin', he he he... ." The tuskir who Michael antagonized said while snorting and cackling, unsheathing his handaxe at the ready.
The three began closing in on Michael, their gate relaxed as they taunted him, their confidence in having the upperhand letting them ooze with a gloating energy. Michael instead had finally gathered himself, head tilted back as he held onto his face, having just finished the last few drips of the Woh vial.
"I can't see... how you furred fucks didn't think that'd just piss me off." He'd say as his trembling voice would change to one more confident. As he spoke he lowered his head at a way lower angle, pulling his hand down in the same motion to reveal a pair of bloodshot eyes, as well as a bloody dripping nose and a wide toothy grin, stained by his own crimson. The shadows on his face would make it seem like he bared his teeth from ear to ear, the expression of the pin point focused eyes, quickly darting to focus on each of the three attackers. Now, that put a stop to their enclosing movement, and this simple shift had changed their confident gloating to a dread filled uncertainty.