The bustling market street parted as a contingent of armed guards made their way through. In the center of the guards walked Morgana Banefort, holding the hand of the maester that walked alongside her. Her eyes darted around wildly, the noise and bustle almost overstimulating for the child. There were people buying food and other goods, men calling out prices to the men and women who were wandering through.
Morgana’s attention was caught by a boy, no older than ten, who was calling out “apples! Fresh apples!” She watched as a man a little younger than her father dressed in middling finery with a blade upon his belt walked by the stand and snatched up an apple. “Hey! You need to pay for that!” The boy exclaimed loudly. The man struck the boy across the face with the back of his hand.
“I am a knight in service to Lord Banefort, boy. Watch your tongue lest I have it out.” Morgana watched the interaction, puzzled. It seemed wrong. The man was being bad, and the boy did nothing wrong. She let go of her maester’s hand and tugged on the hand of her captain. “Stop him,” she said pointing at the knight, “he’s being a bad man.”
At the command of the captain, three of the guards rushed the man. Two of them grabbed his arms and the third drew his blade and pointed at the man.
“What!? Unhand me!” The knight said, his voice a blend of confusion and surprise. The market became nearly silent as people stopped and began to watch, the only noise coming from those trying to get closer so they could see.
“Why did you take his apple?” Morgana asked. The man looked down at the young girl incredulously. Morgana wore a black dress accented with gold and her red hair was tied in an intricate braid. The man stared at her in stunned silence for a moment before answering.
“You should mind yourself, child. Your Lord Grandfather would not be pleased to know what you’re doing.” Morgana ignored the man and his words. In the book her father had been reading her about an old King who was good and punished bad people. This man was bad, and she needed to be the good one. “You are a bad man,” she said.
“Maester Cott?” She looked towards the maester next to her. He seemed scared, and Morgana wondered why. Realizing he’d been spoken to, Maester Benjicott looked to the girl. “Yes, my lady?”
She smiled when he said her title. Morgana had always liked that. People called her mother that too, and Morgana loved her mother. “He needs-“ what had her father called it? “consequences,” she said, slightly fumbling the word. The knight was still complaining but Morgana had fully tuned him out at this point.
“Well…” the maester said slowly. “For theft a man usually has his nose slit or a finger removed.”
“Ok!” The girl said pleasantly, as if she weren’t condemning a man to harm. “He can have both.” She watched with morbid curiosity as her guard took out a dagger and slit his nose. As she had commanded, they took off his pinky finger as well before unceremoniously dropping him on the ground. Some people in the crowd gasped when the man was dropped, some cheered.
Out of her small pouch she took out two gold coins and handed them to the boy. The boy’s eyes grew wide when she offered him the coins. People all around began to cheer and shout her praises as she gave the boy the coins. Morgana turned to the crowd and smiled her biggest smile, enjoying the praises and applause.

Some Interesting group stats, These were compiled based on people who interacted with polls and are being applied to all the followers. It isn't perfectly accurate since not all group members interacted.
Age of Users
58% of the group is 20-29, 27% is 30-40, Roughly 7.5% of the group is 40+ and same goes for 18 and under.
Religion
47% of the group is Christian, 24% of the group is Atheist, 19% is other, 7.5% considers themselves spiritual and 2.5% is Muslim.
What Determines Blackness
33.5% of the group considers someone with one half Black parent and one non Black parents as officially not Black. 30% Consider the 1 drop rule as not Black. 22% Consider having a non Black parent makes you not Black. And 14.5% Consider you not Black if both your parents are genetically African but have 0 Black traits (afro, big lips, dark skin)
Continent of Current Habitation
82% of the group is composed of people live in North America, 9% lives in Europe, and the remaining 9% makes up users in Africa, South America, Asia and Australia.
Region of North America of Habitation
35% Of Users living in North America are on the East Coast, 26% live in the south, 18% live in the west coast, 18% live in central united states, and 8.5% live in Canada, Mexico and the Caribbean.
Complexion of Black
50% of the group identifies as Brownskin, 31.5% Considers themselves Darkskin, 11% Considers themselves Lightskin, 6% is not Black at all, and 1 person considers themselves 1 drop Black.
Languages Spoken
42% Of Black men are mono lingual, 32% of Black men are bilingual, 18% is trilingual, and 7% speak 4 or more languages. This is very impressive. That Half the group can speak at least 2 languages.
Interest in Next Continent of Vacation
34.5% Of the men would like to visit Africa next for a vacation and exploration spot, 24% would visit Europe, 18.5% want to visit Asia, 14.5% want to visit South America, 8% want to visit Antarctica, and no one wants to visit Australia. I'm starting to wonder if they know something I don't about Australia.
What hair do Black Men prefer on Black Women
55% of Black men prefer Natural hair on woman. 21% prefer Braids, 17.5% prefer Locs, 3.5% of men prefer cornrows or weaves/wigs.
What amount of Black men do drugs or drink
49.5% of Black men neither drink nor do drugs. 22.5% do both at least once a month, 15.5% just Drink and 12% do just drugs.
What sector do Black men Work In
46.5% of Black men work white collar jobs, 28.5% are students and 25% work blue collar jobs.

I’ve been wearing my hair in twists or braids under my wigs or i’ll wear a headscarf because i don’t want my hair to get dirty at work also i hate figuring out what to do for my hair the mornings i work but on the weekends i love to wear my hair out!! my favorite style has always been a pineapple!! i love seeing other black women wearing their pineapples too. i’ll do a twist out here or there but it’s so hot and humid where i live i feel sticky all day. what’s your easy go to natural hairstyle? i’d like to hear some other options.

u/awali679, u/Greedy_Vegetable90, u/thearcherofstrata
In the beginning, Adam and Eve were both naked, which was okay. After the Fall, Genesis 3:

7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths.

Their patchwork wasn't good enough,

21 And the LORD God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skins and clothed them.

Concerning the Israelite priests, Exodus 28:

42 “Make linen undergarments as a covering for the body, reaching from the waist to the thigh. 43 Aaron and his sons must wear them whenever they enter the tent of meeting or approach the altar to minister in the Holy Place, so that they will not incur guilt and die.

Concerning the general Israelite population, Deuteronomy 22:

5 A woman shall not wear a man’s garment, nor shall a man put on a woman’s cloak, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the LORD your God.

Fast-forward to the NT, 1 Timothy 2:

likewise also that women should adorn themselves in respectable apparel, with modesty and self-control, not with braided hair and gold or pearls or costly attire

Note that it is not just about being modest but also about being respectable.
I can't find any detailed dress code in the Bible. I think it would depend on the local culture and standards of respectability and modesty. Generally speaking, it is immodest to dress in such a way as to bring attention to your private parts.
Can a woman in Canada wear pants?
In Canada, it is normal for both men and women to wear pants. It is okay for a woman to wear pants modestly.
Could a Christian woman wear a bikini? Wear leggings?
That depends on the local custom. In Canada, it is okay. But you need to ask yourself: Why are you wearing it? Can you justify that before Jesus? Do you have peace with it in your conscience?
See also Women should adorn themselves in respectable APPAREL

Chapter 30 - Interlopers
Previous Chapter
“Okay, you’re SURE this won’t be permanent?” Trix tried to turn her head to look at the computer console as the two other women worked behind her back.
“Sure we’re sure. It won’t wash out with water but we have a solvent on hand that’ll nullify the dye. Makes it completely clear. Technically still present but invisible.” Min swiped a finger up the side of Trix’s head. The computer instantly changed. “YES! Yellow along the sides, and red up top. That’s PERFECT.”
“Hold your wings out to the side, feathers.” Ma’et gazed down at the pattern and arrangement of the feathers on the wing. “Yeah, definitely. Make the wings match the hair. Or, uh, head feathers. Whatever it’s called. Red along these big whatchamacallums. Yellow above. And when her wingtip controls finish fabbing, the silver will look amazing next to it.”
“She really ought to have earrings too.” Min glanced at each of the long, elf-life ears tipped with small, fine feathers. “We could do some really intricate patterns with ears that long.”
Ma’et glanced up there and shook her head. “It’d look great but I’m not touching any piercings without Josh. No way I want to find out they have arteries up there the hard way.”
The computer image was shifting rapidly as they spat out ideas, but since Min and Ma’et wouldn’t let her see she had to be content with their descriptions. “I’m just a little nervous about this. I really, really don’t want to have to pull those feathers later.”
Ma’et put her hands on either side of Trix’s head, tilting it slightly as she watched the computer image changing. “Don’t you guys dye your feathers back on Kiveyt?”
“Sure. We have both impermanent and permanent dyes.” Trix fought the urge to swat away the hands that were moving her head around. “Impermanent dyes wash out with water. Permanent ones don’t. Only way to undo those is to pull the feathers out entirely, which is both painful and embarrassing until they regrow.”
Min was putting on plastic gloves as she adjusted the dye solution to match the colors on the screen. “Do your feathers ever just fall out by themselves? On Earth, birds lose feathers over time as they get replaced. ”
“Healthy feathers don’t fall out, no. They can be pulled out but it isn’t pleasant. Damaged feathers will fall out on their own.” Trix lifted up her arm and placed a finger under one of her feathers to lift it up. “Actually there was a big trend thirty years ago to trim the vanes of each feather into various patterns. But that had the same problem as dyeing the feathers, where if you wanted to undo it you had to pull the trimmed feathers out.”
Min and Ma’et shared a glance at that. “Should we consider…” Min began, before Ma’et cut her off. “Nope. Solvent will clear the dye but it won’t undo a trim.”
Min nodded and picked up a series of plastic strips. Each strip was placed under a line of feathers on Trix’s head to separate out each line of feathers along the group, to ensure that no dye would leak onto other feathers.
Ma’et put on gloves of her own and picked up a small detailing brush. “You know, we really ought to have asked Alex to join us.”
Trix fought to keep her head still. She’d been warned what might happen if she moved too much, and she had no desire at all to make an already lengthy process take even longer. “Why’s that? Do we need his approval for something like this?”
“Nope.” Min lifted up her brush and began to carefully brush the solution over the feathers just above Trix’s forehead. “He’s just really, really good at it. He actually taught the both of us how to do dye our hair.”
Ma’et nodded, as she joined in brushing the red dye along the plastic line at the front. “He won’t tell us why, but I had some issues doing it myself at first. It was really uneven, I’d get dye everywhere, it was a mess. He taught me how to make it even and clean. Hell, if Min’s busy or something I still make him dye my hair.”
Trix began to turn her head out of habit, but was stopped by a strong hand against her temple. “Red isn’t natural for you?”
“This shade of Red isn’t natural for any humans. Natural redheads are a lot closer to a brown than mine.” Ma’et swiped her fingers against a towel, and dipped the brush back into the solution. “There are treatments that can make dyes like mine permanent so our hair always grows with this color, but I like being able to change it up. When we’re done I’ll show you some of the photos I’ve taken with different styles and colors.”
“When we’re done. How long will that take?” Irritation tinged her voice as Trix struggled to fight it down.
“Sorry, feathers. But we’re still looking at another hour or so, minimum. The solution dries fast though, so by the time we’re done with your wings your head will be ready for brushing.” Ma’et lifted the uppermost plastic to begin on the layer below it. “Bear with us while we work, will ya?”
“Fine, fine.” Trix took a very slow breath trying to stay as still as possible. “Now what were you saying before about piercings?”
“It’s a fashion thing back on earth. You have metal studs put through your ears to…”
—--
Alex shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth absentmindedly as his eyes scanned down the quickboard. The latest survey data here at Point 3 was more disappointing than he’d hoped. The mineral content was high but much of it was in the form of metallic salts and various alloys that would be much, much more work to separate and extract into pure forms than free elements. It would still be worth the effort of doing so, but since the asteroids in Point 2 had similar composition minus the alloys, extracting from that first would be greatly preferred.
He was going over some of the math in his head when a bright, colorful apparition walked through the door.
His spoon froze two inches from his mouth as his eyes flicked up to the resident Avian. The feathers along her head crest had been dyed a brilliant crimson, with orange and yellow bordering them - making the crest distinct and almost hair-like from the rest of her plumage. In addition the large feathers of her wings were dyed similarly, with brilliant red along the large feathers on the bottom of the wings, shifting to orange and yellow above.
It took a few moments for Alex’s mental gears to shift properly but before he did, Trix had walked over to the food dispenser. She walked back to the table with a plate of toast and eggs, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the Captain. “Problem, babe?”
If the sudden change in appearance hadn’t caught Alex entirely offguard, the sudden vernacular would have. The spoon clattered down into the bowl as his fingers relaxed with the surprise, the sound shaking him loose of the sudden surprise. “Trix, where did you hear that?”
Trix sat down, putting an egg on her toast and covering it with entirely too much tabasco sauce. “Min and Ji say it all the time. They always say it’s a joke. Why?”
“Uhm. Okay, well… it’s sort of an extremely familiar greeting. Like… ah, sort of sometimes used with...” Alex fumbled for words and eventually gave up. “Par, help me out here.”
“Certainly. Trksehn, while the word can be used informally between very close friends it’s also known to be used between even closer relationships, such as lovers or family. Using the designation of ‘babe’ often carries connotations of interest as well; often designating attractiveness to the subject.”
Trix nearly dropped her toast as she glanced over the captain with mortification on her face as she absorbed what she just heard. “Oh, uh… I knew it was a joke and I didn’t realize, so…”
Alex shook his head, reaching over to grab a napkin to mop up the milk he’d spilled when he dropped his spoon. “No worries. I’m not offended. Just, ah, you might want to run those little jokes past Min before using them on the rest of the crew.”
Trix nodded, and took a big bite out of the toast. After chewing briefly, she swallowed and looked a bit guilty. “Sorry again. I didn’t really know what it meant. Ji and Min always thought it was hilarious when I said it, so…”
Alex waved it off. “No need to explain. I know those two well enough to know how they are.” He picked up the spoon and crunched down on another mouthful of cereal, before pointing it towards Trix. “Mrph, Thrm Eye…” He swallowed heavily. “Sorry. So that Dye job?”
Trix grinned and spread her wings wide, showing off the colors. “Ma’et says I’m a natural redhead, so they went with bright and fiery. What do you think?”
“It suits you incredibly wel! I’m assuming they used triethylaminete? I wouldn’t normally ask, but I have no idea what Kyshe will think of it and I promised not one feather damaged….” Alex glanced over the large, brilliantly-dyed feathers somewhat trepidatiously.
“I have no idea. Min and Ma’et could tell you. They did say they had something they could put on to make it clear if I don’t like it.” Trix reached over to brush her fingers over one of the scarlet-hued feathers. “I asked like, six times.”
“Probably was then. I think it looks great, but obviously I’m not the one you’re interested in impressing. It’ll be interesting to see the reactions back on Kiveyt.” Alex finished off the cereal rapidly and pushed the bowl aside. He keyed in a sequence into the pad. “Josh, go ahead and start the recall on the salvage ‘bot. I’ve seen all I want to see here. Drop a beacon and let’s get packed up. Trix should be up to the bridge in like, fourty-five. Let’s try to get underway to Point 1 within 30 of her arriving.”
Trix finished off the first piece of toast, and was coating the second egg with tabasco as she looked up. “Weren’t we planning to be here for a few more days?”
“Yeah, but the core samples are making it pretty clear that this place isn’t worth our time. I’d rather get started on the big money items.” He turned back to the face on the quickboard. “Any issues with that?”
Josh was already entering in the commands to halt the core sampling process, and detach the bot from the most valuable asteroid present. “No issues here. If you want to leave that fast, though, we’ll have to leave the tap here.”
“That’s fine, we have enough scrap on board to fab a new one long before we arrive. I’m going to tell ‘Manda about the change in plans. Let me know if anything comes up.” Josh simply nodded in response, and the screen blanked out.
Alex tapped a couple more times on the quickboard. “Amanda, I know you’re asleep right now so I’m just going to leave this message. I’m sure you’ve noticed but Point 3 ain’t worth the time compared to 2 so we’re taking off early. Get started on whatever you can identify from here on out, but I want a rundown of the biggest money we can fit in the hold within a day. We’ll have Trix get some experience splitting rocks, just to liven things up. Let me know if there’s any issues with the plan.”
He tapped the end button, and turned to Trix. “Any questions, Pilot?”
“Just one. What do you mean by splitting rocks?” Trix finished off the second piece of toast and began wolfing down a third.
“Well, the ship ain’t very big. The biggest and richest asteroids out there would dwarf us, and moving them is a headache. We can’t take them through d-space without expensive external shielding we don’t have, so we’re going to have to break off great big chunks in order to grab ‘em and stuff ‘em in the hold. We do that with the salvage bot’s drill and some very carefully placed explosives. You had fun shooting shit out in space, I figured maybe blowing shit up then chasing down and grabbing them with the shuttle might pique your interest as well.”
“You know, that actually does sound like it might be right up my alley…” Trix grinned. “It’s been weeks since Farscope and I wouldn’t mind taking the shuttle out for a spin.”
“Perfect. Ma’et’s got experience with that so we’ll pair you two up for shifts once we reach Point 1.” Alex stood up and lifted the quickboard up, tapping it on his shoulder. “I’m going to start making arrangements for that. Josh’ll handle any other questions you have, but call me if anything he can’t answer comes up.”
—--
The bridge of the Dreadnought ‘Calamity’ was dead silent, save the ever-present barely audible hum of the ventilation systems that made life possible in the infinite inky void of space and the soft tapping of fingers against control consoles. Captain Nathaniel Wessex sat in the command chair of the gargantuan ship, waiting patiently. Despite the nervousness and tension among his crew, his face was a mask of calm.
Underneath the mask, where none could see, where he hid his emotions he railed against the politicians for choosing him for this assignment.
Sending a dreadnought on a diplomatic mission was about as far from typical as it gets. Dreadnoughts were annihilation made manifest, the sort of thing you send to strike terror into your enemies. Every single meter of deckplate, every single kilometer of cable within the ship was designed and built around a single purpose : Destruction. On a scale never before seen in the days of blue-water ships making their way via sail or propeller across the vast waves of earth.
Yet every argument against the deployment by the captain himself, his superiors in the navy, and even many in the government were dismissed. First contact had been made and the polities of both Sol and Proxima were in utter chaos. The border disputes, the tension over Keplite, the endless posturing by each side had crashed down in the space of hours. Now the tension was entirely over whether or not one side or the other would pull off a coup with these new species, and whether or not the known hostile races would interrupt the diplomacy. Each side was eager to impress and terrified about the unknown, necessitating his ship’s presence.
Rumor had it that Proxima had known for well over a month about the discovery, and was negotiating with Sol about making an official trip to the Perseus arm of the galaxy to meet with the new species there. Whether or not they believed it at first, once the emergency beacon from the Arcadia had arrived everything changed. The full data dump had immediately been sent to Sol and with it, the two sides had come together faster than imaginable for their own goals. Proxima, leveraging the information as a means to ensure peace. Sol, attempting to ensure that Proxima would not attempt to represent humanity without equal opportunity to be involved.
The diplomatic mission was put together in mere hours and his ship was tapped for it nearly from the get go.
And now as he stood ready to serve his military, his country, his species he fought desperately not to let his emotions show as the colossal hulk of the Sol Dreadnought ‘Imperium’ sat there, a scant ten thousand kilometers from him. A week ago they’d be warming up weapons, loading missile launch bays, and Damage Control units (along with the inevitable medical corpsmen) would be prepping to race across the ship wherever needed. Now both ships were present for something other than fighting, a deeply unnatural feeling.
On the bridge he was secure, of course. A Dreadnought’s armor and shielding were unmatched, and even if his opponent was as heavily armed and armored as he was they could withstand an incredible amount of punishment. More than enough to be able to retaliate in kind. The thought that any aggression would result in mutual destruction of the two vessels, however, was anything but calming.
“Any word from the Sol delegates?” He kept his voice perfectly calm, cool and collected as he turned his head to the communications station.
“No sir. Last communique from the USN was just to expect a delay. No details beyond that.” One of the communication techs brought up the message log and read it off dutifully, and the captain suppressed a sigh. And a swear.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Damned diplomats. “You’d think that for a group whose entire job is to ensure that everything goes as smoothly as possible they’d at least have the courtesy to show up on time,” he thought to himself. The Dreadnought escort from Sol had arrived with time to spare, but the diplomats themselves were still no-shows.
Thirty minutes later, the Comms station finally reported back. “Sir. Incoming from the Imperium. Rear Admiral Soldado is requesting a direct line to yourself and to the head of the delegation.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll take it at my chair.” The words of the captain alone were enough for a screen to immediately slide out from the side of the command station, rotating on an articulating arm around to face him. It was blank for a brief moment before two faces appeared side-by-side in front of him.
“This is Captain Wessex of the PSA Calamity.”
“It is an honor, Captain Wessex. I am Rear Admiral Chloe Soldado of the USN Imperium.”
“Rear Admiral, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am the representative of the Proxima delegation to Farscope, Kase Tremaine.”
“Thank you for receiving our communication. We’ve been notified that the courier ship being used by our envoy has been delayed due to an issue with its Keplite Core. Our diplomatic delegation has changed ships and will be arriving within the day. We apologize for the delay but appreciate your patience in this matter.”
Kase leaned back in his chair on the screen. “Such occurrences are not uncommon, Rear Admiral. I appreciate your bringing it to our attention. If I may, I believe it may be prudent for us to enter D-Space as soon as your delegate arrives. We have a lengthy journey ahead of us and it would be advisable that we begin as quickly as possible.”
Rear Admiral glanced over off screen briefly, then back. “I see no issue with that. If I may, however, is there any particular need for such haste?”
Kase and Captain Nathaniel briefly made eye contact before the Captain cleared his throat. “It’s not so much a need for haste so much as, well, several members of our government wish to have… Other representatives of humanity present in the Perseus arm as quickly as possible. The ship which has made first contact is known to have a somewhat ‘eclectic’ crew and one of our tasks will be to, ah, well… clear up any potential confusion about our species once we arrive.”
The allusion to an ‘eclectic’ crew immediately caught the Rear Admiral’s attention. “Could you perhaps be a bit more specific?” She inquired.
Kase looked distinctly uncomfortable, but mentally steeled himself as he powered forward with the explanation. “Ah… well, to be frank the first contact ship is the Arcadia. Commanded by one Alexander Sherman. If you’re unfamiliar with him, I recommend reading up on the exploration of the habitable exoworld ‘Guylevo’. And, ah, the aftermath of the incident wherein the good captain was expelled from the Terran Explorers League. If you lack the data on your ship, we can transmit it over…”
Captain Wessex silently prayed that they did indeed lack the data, since that would give them an excuse to terminate the call before the Rear Admiral was apprised of exactly who they’d be dealing with once they reached the Perseus Arm, but unfortunately there was no luck there.
“Guylevo?” The Rear Admiral turned to the side as she pulled up the database entry on it, and began to skim. Her expression twitched noticeably as she read, and… was that a smile? No, definitely not.
“I see. So to sum up, the ship that made first contact has a Captain with a history of making immature jokes, acting before he thinks, and being inordinately stubborn.” The Rear Admiral turned her attention back to the faces on the video call. “Does the data dump we received from his ship contain any details about his activities out there?”
Captain Wessex nodded at that. It seemed like she wasn’t about to blame Proxima for Captain Sherman’s eccentricity, which was a pleasant surprise. “It does, yes. Have you had much time to read it?”
“Only skimmed at the moment. I’ve several staff members who are poring over it in detail, but for myself it’s been a bit of a whirlwind getting everything prepared for this expedition.”
Kase and the Captain were both on the same page here, and he immediately jumped into the opening she gave them. “In that case, I believe the most prudent thing to do would be to adjourn for the time being while we wait for your envoy to arrive. We can spend the time reading up on the Captain’s activities as well as go over the species profiles present within the dump.”
The Captain nodded with approval, and the Rear Admiral sat silent for a moment as she considered. “In light of the amount of unknowns that the data will likely clear up, I think that’s not a bad call.” She finally stated. “According to the information we were presented, we’re looking at a twenty-eight day trip to our destination along the optimal path. Given that’s the case, we’ll have plenty of time to formulate plans and goals once we arrive. Thank you for your time, Gentlemen. I shall leave you to it.”
“I look forward to speaking again with you soon, Rear Admiral.”
—--
The shuttle rocketed through space, twisting around as a massive articulating arm extended from its back. A loop of braided metal cable hung at the end of the arm, and it instantly tightened around the spinning chunk of metal the shuttle was chasing. The cable immediately released from the arm, allowing the metal chunk to continue to drift briefly before it began to reel in.
“C’mon, Josh. You said that one would be tricky.” Trix released her wingtip controls and sighed contentedly. Flying the Arcadia was amazing, the ship was massive and powerful beyond anything she’d imagined. But the shuttle was responsive, quick and nimble in a way a massive ship never could be.
Honestly compared to firing the Railcannon, blowing up the massive rich mineral was lackluster. The salvage ‘bot set the charges, the charges went off, and then the huge chunks began to float away. Amanda and Alex were using the salvage ‘bot’s thrusters to keep the big chunks in place while the small chunks that were sent flying were grabbed by the shuttle. Trix and Ma’et were in the shuttle, with Trix running down the expensive debris while Ma’et controlled the SRMS arm that actually hooked the asteroids.
From there the braided cable would be slowly wound back in, the tension eventually bringing the metal chunk to a relative stop compared to the shuttle. The arm would then guide it into the main shuttle body, before they went off on another run chasing down even more.
“That one WAS tricky. It’s just that we have such an excellent pilot and system specialist that you’re making even the tricky ones seem easy.” Josh chuckled over the comm. The cable was being slowly drawn in as Trix let her wings droop back down.
The new wingtip controls were unlike any before. Even her Aunt’s controls were nothing compared to the engineering that had gone into hers. She no longer needed to use the flight stick, instead her wingtip controls could be used to interface directly with the shuttle. While it wasn’t more precise than the flight stick, to her it was a more natural way of flying. Haptic feedback would also give her tactile response information when flying in atmosphere (Or so Min had claimed). Most impressively, she could move her wings in front of her and create a holographic screen that could display media. It was slightly lower quality than a quickboard, but far more portable.
The humming stopped and Trix sat waiting as the image of the metallic debris on the monitor slowly ceased its spinning. Before the cable’s tension could begin spinning it in the opposite degree, the SRMS arm latched on and the tension was released as the cable spun out and loosened around the rock. The cable itself whipped around as the tenson it had built up from the spinning space rock was released, but Ma’et had expected this and carefully positioned the arm so that it did little more than bang against the metal.
“That’s seven big chunks so far,” Ma’et had commented as she maneuvered the arm around to place the rock near the shuttle’s exterior access door. The compartment was a vacuum from previous collections so aside from the motor humming as the door opened, there was no rush of escaping air or other noise. “Wonder how much they’re worth?”
“Well, we’re going to have to separate out the alloys, but preliminary guesswork based on the spectroscopic analysis indicates… roughly two point six billion credits for the metallic asteroid as a whole. So the piece you just ran down is somewhere in the neighborhood of 3 million credits or so.” Josh’s shift was nearing its end, so he sounded a bit on the tired side. “Unless you meant in local currency, in which case your guess is as good as mine.”
Trix felt the banging of the rock as it was stowed away in the shuttle hold through the soles of her feet, the tips of her talons rattling slightly against the padded flooring as the shuttle’s gravity re-engaged and all the collected precious metals settled down against the floor. She swept her wings around and reached out to press her fingers against the metal controls, feeling the shuttle’s engines grow in power as she did so. “Where to next?”
“Hold that thought.” Alex responded over the comms, and suddenly the comm channel grew louder and much, much busier.
“We caught the edge of the flash on the aft array.” “We couldn’t have seen it if we were moving, the engine wash would have blinded those sensors.” “Ship heading coming around 90-counter. Reorienting the primary array, port-side.” “Do we have any data to refine the angle further?” “No, the flash didn’t last long enough.” “We had cameras on the asteroid when the flash happened. Any chance of refining the data based on the reflection from the flash on camera?” “All video feeds are being run through analysis. Based on current facing, suggesting to reorient the primary array at 337 degrees, with 14 degree inclination.”
“What’s going on?” Trix glanced over at Ma’et.
“Not sure. Something happened, that’s for sure.” Ma’et reached out to grab a cable from the console in front of her, and pressed it to her temple. “Not enough bandwidth from here for me to link in directly but… it looks like there was a massive flash. EM data across nearly the entire spectrum, all at once. We’re trying to figure out what caused it.”
“Shit. Everyone, I think that flash was an FTL arrival.” Alex sounded worried, and suddenly one of the displays on the shuttle blinked to life. A blurry, grainy image of a bright object appeared - slowly coming into more and more focus. “It’s still being analyzed but that looks an awful lot like the same ship that showed up here last time we were in system. The one that took a shot at us.”
The image continued to be refined, slowly. “I’m calling it.” Alex’s face appeared on another console, opposite the blurry image. “Trix, Ma’et, back here now. Salvage Bot is bringing over a big chunk of the asteroid with it. Between that and the bits you scooped up, we’ve got roughly six percent of the asteroid in storage. That’s good enough for me. Trix, once you get back on board I want you on the bridge. This might be a long shift, so get whatever rest you can and let Ma’et pilot the shuttle back.”
Trix released her wingtips and glanced over to Ma’et. “Well then, care to do the honors?”
—--
Trix jogged on up to the bridge, and immediately took her seat. “So what’s going exactly?”
“Well, the big flash we now think was definitely the arrival of another ship. It came in much closer to us than the last time we encountered one, and this time we were looking out for it which is why we missed it the first time. Par’s been reviewing records from when we were rescuing the trade ship crew and we found a similar flash appearing before we detected the Tanjeeri ship coming in.” Alex gestured to the main screen and this time the image of the ship was not blurry at all. It was much crisper and detailed, though the fact that it was a ship wasn’t quite as apparent to her.
The image showed an odd looking object that almost seemed to be a collection of spheres with debris sticking out of it. The front had a weird curved hook-like structure, and there were long spines sticking out the sides. The rear of the vessel bulged out strangely, giving it an ugly and lopsided look. Trix couldn’t help but compare it to the Arcadia, which seemed sleek and angular in comparison.
“That’s a Tanjeeri ship?” She couldn’t quite keep the derision from her voice, and Alex nodded. “Matches the only one we’ve seen ourselves. We honestly don’t know much about it. But it’s formidable enough that the rest of the species out here fear them, so we don’t want to find out first hand just what it can do. We currently have it at slightly over one hundred sixty million kilometers, which is why it took so long for the image to resolve into this.”
Trix punched up the details on her console. “So at our max acceleration, they’re still 16 hours away?”
“Yep. But near as we can tell they’re barely coming in at 4 G’s, so that puts them at closer to 25 hours away. Thing is, there’s no guarantee that’s their max acceleration. And keep in mind they’ve already got some velocity built up while we have none. If we let them get too close before moving, they could reach us even if we out-accelerate them.” Alex sounded worried.
“Okay.” Trix began going through a mental checklist of the ship’s readiness. “Engines are almost entirely ready. You want us to just fly away as fast as we can?”
Alex shook his head, but kept his eyes locked on the screen. “I don’t want to fight, but at the same time this is a good opportunity for us. Last time we faced the Tanjeeri we couldn’t respond well because we had rescuees on board. This time I want to get a slightly better grasp of their capabilities. I want you to fly perpendicular to them - let’s start a big curve around the system. Give it, say, 6 G’s of acceleration. We’ll build up velocity but give ourselves a fair amount of leeway so we can see how fast their ship can actually go.”
Trix punched in the commands and brought up a large-scale model of the system they were in. She blew it up on the main display for the captain to see. “In that case, why don’t we cut behind the fourth planetoid’s orbit here? If they follow us and try to head us off inside our curve, it’ll force them to cut in further or go wide. Either way, it’ll give us a chance to gain a bit of extra distance on them as they compensate.”
Alex looked up at the plot with surprise, then down at Trix. “You just th… nevermind. That’s a good idea. A damn good idea. Plot the course, pilot.”
Trix couldn’t help but beam with pride at the praise, and immediately began punching in course corrections and instructions on her console.
Alex, for his part, brought up his own console. “P, did you prompt her to do that?” He wrote to Par.
“Not at all, Captain. That idea was entirely hers.”
“You mean after 25 days spent studying she’s become adept enough to be able to plot two converging courses, calculate the interception point, and then line it up with an orbital object to force the Tanjeeri to divert?”
“She’s been an exceptional student, Captain. And while she does make extensive use of the computer’s abilities to calculate the courses, I believe she has a natural talent for visualizing courses in a 3D space and then plotting them at her workstation.”
“You might see it as natural talent but I see it as pure genius. It’s almost scary how well she’s fitting into this role.”
“What we call it is immaterial. Her skills are immature and she lacks experience but she shows incredible promise to be a first class pilot. That’s what matters the most.”
Alex grinned as he closed the chat window and stood up. “Attention all crew. We have confirmation of a Tanjeeri vessel on an intercept course with the Arcadia. In order to better understand what we’re facing, we’re not leaving immediately. Our plan is to keep a very, very respectable distance from them and see how they maneuver. How fast they are. I’m also planning to drop a decoy and see how good their sensors are. But, absolutely zero combat. If anyone has questions or concerns now’s the time to bring them up. Otherwise it’s business as usual for a while.”
He sat back down, and spoke directly to Trix. “Go ahead and plot the course, Pilot. Then I want you to go get eight hours of sleep. I want you rested when we let them get close enough to really start evaluating them.”
Trix nodded, then tilted her head at the Captain. “What about you? Will I be rested up and you’ll be dead tired?”
“Nah. I’m cheating.” He held up a small inhaler. The word on the side took a minute to translate, but eventually she saw ‘Insomniol’ appear in a language she could understand. “Staving off sleep for the next couple days. I’ll be paying the price for several days after this, but once we’re done I’ll recuperate while we’re in d-space on our way back to Kiveyt.”
Trix peered in closely at the inhaler. “Would that work for me if I used it?”
“No clue. Your biology is similar to ours, but tiny differences can result in extremely different effects. Best not to risk it until we know for sure.” Alex made a shooing motion with his hands. “Get a quick bite, and get some rest. You’ll be glad you did.”
—--
Next Chapter

“This geriatric bunch in cold sleep?”
“Affirmative. But their records show that they have been in cold sleep multiple times. They should respond quickly to the resuscitation procedure.”
“But, why? Wouldn’t it be more merciful to leave them in stasis while the Jaxorians intercept us?”
“Yes, but Allyson says that these individuals are the ones who might get us out of this situation.”
“The Terran engineer? You’re trusting her?”
“In a zero-sum analysis, her suggestions have net positive outcomes.”
“Just for the record, I think this is a bad idea.” A pause. “Resuscitation sequence activated.”
“Duly noted. Alert me when they are awake.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
William Exeter hated the feeling of coming to after cold sleep. While the modern systems were better than those he first encountered, he still felt like his muscles were infused with lead and that he was suffering from a hangover that he never got the enjoyment of deserving. But hopefully this would be one of the last times he would ever have to use the procedure, and he could finally settle down.
As the capsule’s lid slid back, harsh light assaulted William’s eyes, and he squinted in an attempt to lessen the pain. The silhouette of a triangular head above him let William know that a Dravitian was checking on him. He swallowed and got his voice working so he could croak out, “I’m up, I’m up.”
“Ah, Mr. Exeter, yes? I am…” The insectoid started to come into better view to the Terran’s adjusting eyes. “Captain? Yes, Captain of this ship. I am… We all are in need of assistance.”
“Uh, what?” William’s croaking voice hid some of his annoyance. “Yeah, I’m Exeter. But if you’re going to get my help, you’re going to have to get me a Jolt. I’m still half asleep from the drugs.”
The Dravitian’s head tilted to the side in an obvious gesture of confusion, “You require an electrical discharge?”
And this was why William hated waking up among aliens. He had to explain everything to them. “A drink. ‘All the sugar and twice the caffeine.’ Bah!” He started to force his muscles into action and pushed up on his elbows, “Just get me a goddamned stimulant, okay?”
“Oh, yes. Yes. Of course!” The Dravitian’s head disappeared as the insectoid moved over to a wall-mounted workstation.
William turned his head and saw several other cold-sleep capsules with their lids open. He cleared his throat and then called out, “Venture crew, sound off...”
“Here!”
"I hear you, Bill.”
From a nearby capsule there was a dry coughing, but a hand in a ‘thumbs-up’ gesture rose in response.
“Well, good, I won’t have to suffer alone.” William turned his head again and looked over the other closed capsules, “But they didn’t wake everyone, so something’s up. Try to shake this shit off and get ready, okay?”
There were murmurs of ascent and more dry coughs from the other capsules.
The Dravitian come back from the workspace and addressed William, “Stimulant beverages and some cakes are on their way, Mr. Exeter. While I know that you are still under the effects of the stasis pharmaceuticals, I do need to apprise you of our need. You know of the Jaxorians, yes?”
William’s brow furrowed, “What, those crab-guys who go around in those water-suits? Didn’t we beat them in that big war?”
The Dravitian pulled back a little, “It was a negotiated settlement, I believe, but yes, your descriptive words adequately fit the Jaxorian physiology.” He paused, “Well, the Jaxorians, and their rulers the Drasalites, are once again at war, and we are now targets. I would not have woken you , but our Terran engineer was sure that you could help.”
William frowned and shook his head, “We should have finished them once and for all when we had the chance, but we have to let the Soviets fail as Soviets, don’t we?” He sighed, “And we’re humans, dammit. Homo sapiens sapiens by fuckin’ scientific classification. We once lived on Terra, but our genus and species doesn’t change when we move to another-” He noticed the paling colors on the edges of the Captain’s chitinous facial plates and stopped his Duckman-esque rant, “Look, nevermind. How much time do we have?”
The insectoid paused, as if surprised be the direct question. “We estimate a cycle, if our engineer’s modifications to the engines hold. Our speed has been dramatically increased, but the Jaxorian ships still gain slowly. We will eventually be within the effective range of their weapons. Please, direct us.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
After some of the greasy-spoon diner-ish coffee and the supermarket quality yeast-raised, honey-glazed donuts, the four Terrans looked and felt better. William glanced at his colleagues, noting the wear of time on their bodies. He chuckled as the slightly altered movie quote of ’It’s not the years, it’s the light-years’ ran through his mind. But they’d been together ‘asleep’ much longer than they’d been awake, and they’d spent more of their ‘awake’ lives together than apart.
Tony Scarpetti’s pudgy fingers tipped his cup almost upside down as he tried to get the last drops of the coffee and granulated sugar sludge into his mouth. His once black hair was now mostly white, and his tough physique that ran circles around them on the soccer field had shrunk a bit, though he was still stocky.
Peter Hoffman had finally gotten control of his coughing, and was munching on ‘just one more’ donut, and William once again wondered where Peter fit all the food he ate in that short, diminutive frame. His signature mohawk had been fluffed up with fingers, but lacking styling gel and a razor to clean up the stubble that had grown out in cold sleep, it ended up looking more like a peaked mound than the sharp style that Peter would have usually rocked.
Alex (AJ) Johnson’s hair had finally receded so much that his braid only held back reddish hair from behind his ears, though his scraggly beard was long enough that he could probably have braided it as well. Always tall and gangly, his frame seemed a little more gaunt than William remembered, though it had been almost a decade of cold-sleep travel since they had last seen each other.
“Hey, Doctor Exeter?”
William turned his head toward the voice, and looked at the young woman with blonde hair striding toward the table where the four sat around their coffee and donuts. Her utilitarian grey coveralls had scorch-marks and grime all over, and there was some of the same on her exposed hands and face, but bright teeth were visible in her smile.
William nodded, “You must be the plucky human engineer who got us woken up before our alarm went off, huh?”
The woman nodded, still smiling widely and, as she got over to the table, thrust out her hand toward William in the manner of one who just remembered something. “Yeah, sorry about that, Doctor. I’m Allyson, and I’m the only Terran on the ship. Besides you guys, that is.”
William took the extended hand and shook it, being a little more gentle than he usually would have been, given the way that the woman’s grip and lack of fluid motion showed that she wasn’t experienced in shaking hands as a greeting ritual. But she had looked it up, and that counted for something. “Well, us humans have to stick together, right? You sure you want us geezers to help you out? Don’t you have some flashy alien tech to get away from these crab guys?”
Allyson grinned as the handshake seemed to go correctly and shook her head, “Well, if you had been four guys who weren’t from the Space Venture, I would have let you sleep and hoped that I could come up with some way to escape, but well… you are, and well…” She looked at the men around the table, “You guys solve problems, right?”
“Troubleshoot.” AJ corrected, his voice still a little rough. “We’re Troubleshooters. So we’re likely to be able to fix problems on the ship, but not necessarily the situation. It gives us an out on some problems…”
Allyson’s brow furrowed, but before she could say anything, William offered, “But we’ll try and get you out of this alive, okay?” He looked over toward AJ, “No need to haze the newb, ‘kay?”
AJ chuckled and nodded, going for another sip of his coffee.
Allyson looked between the two old men and shook her head. Weren’t these guys the stuff of legends? Why didn’t they act like it? But they were what she had. What the whole ship had. Oh, the ship, right. “And we don’t really have any xenotech. This is an old decommissioned TA vessel, a combat freighter, so it’s kind of structurally overbuilt for a freighter. It was the TAV Thuban, but after being bought up by a Dravitian company it’s now the CCV K’gara B’rak. That translates to something like ‘Ugly Worker Beetle’.”
William raised an eyebrow, “I thought those bugs didn’t like old ships?”
Allyson grinned, “They couldn’t build a new ship to these durability specs at anywhere near the sale price. I think that it vexes the Captain to no end.”
Tony finally set his cup down on the table, finished fighting with the sludge, and looked at at the woman with a playful grin, “Likely to be really upset once we get going, then…”
William grinned as well, “Well, we’ll get there as we get there. So, is Skynet running things here?”
The engineer blinked and cocked her head a little in her confusion, “Skynet? Um…” Her words trailed off as she tried to decipher the meaning.
William sighed, “Artificial intelligence. Is there one running the ship?”
Allyson shook off her confusion, “Oh, uh, no. Of course there are still core hook-ups, but the company didn’t recruit one. There are some smart systems, but they don’t come up to AI levels.”
William nodded, slowly and resignedly. He looked at the other older men, “Okay, so I guess I’ll be spending my time hacking while you guys get to have some actual fun.” He looked back to the engineer and started to get up out of his chair, feeling the ache in his lower back. “Well, let’s get me to a terminal, and rummage up some walkies so we can keep in contact.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
William glowered at the large touchscreen that sat angled on its adjustable armature, and muttered, “What fresh hell is this operating system?”
The Dravitian Captain at the nearby navigation station on the ship’s bridge looked over, “Sir, this is the newest release of the Efficient Interface. While you are viewing it in Terran Standard, it is optimized for the Dravitian language.”
William shook his head, “So other than these cosmetic changes that I can get to in settings, where can I actually get to control configurations?”
The Captain pulled back its head in surprise, “What? You can’t change the control configurations! They are all optimized!”
William sighed and shook his head, “You jammed the ‘economy’ button down, so we can’t get to the ‘power’ button. Right…” He tapped open the program that accessed the file storage and began examining what was there.
After a few minutes of the bridge crew watching the Terran scroll and tap and curse in a low voice, William let out a exuberant, “Got you, you bastard!” On the touchscreen, a simple text box came up, indicating that it was a Root Command Shell, with a blinking block cursor.
William’s fingers flew over the virtual keyboard on the angled touchscreen, and another window bloomed on the screen. He slid it off to the side, then continued to tap and another window popped up. He slid it off to the top corner of the screen. In each of the windows, progress bars slid slowly from one side to another, character strings rolling down past the bottom of the window, the screen indicator on the scroll bar on the side getting smaller and smaller as the list grew and grew.
The Captain leaned over from its workstation and observed the workings on the Terran’s screen, “What is all that? I’ve never seen this option in the interface.”
William chuckled, still typing commands in the first window, “Oh, it’s a command line interface. They just slapped your interface over the military OS, and that still had lots of useful modules and programs in archive. I can bypass the ‘pretty’ GUI you guys use and actually get to controls.” He paused, “Holy hell! They left a media archive in here. Let’s get that unpacked right now!”
A new window popped up on the touchscreen, with another progress bar. William brought up yet another window, and worked inside it, and the progress bars started to move across their respective windows faster.
The Captain cocked its head, “Sir, I find fault in your judgement that what we need in this situation is media. The Jaxorians are not known for their imaginative capabilities.” It paused, “And I think your tasks are slowing down the computational processors, which again, I find fault with in these circumstances.”
William chuckled, “Well, sure it will seem slower. I made all my operations high priorities for the processors. And you can’t expect us to do our best work in silence. We’ll need a good jam.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
Allyson led the three older men through the hatch into the huge engineering bay where the three reactors were lined up with the longitudinal axis of the ship. Aft of those, the floor fell away beyond a safety railing, so that the bulk of the four huge engines could be accessed by a network of ladders, platforms, and gantries. Most of the floor was clear, but here and there hatches, tools, and parts lay askew on the deck, and wires and tube of various sizes and colors snaked between components in a way that belied the hasty, jury-rigged engineering tasks that had been recently undertaken. A couple of insectoid engineers were working on maintaining parts of the unstable system.
“And this is the playground,” offered Allyson as she spread her arms to indicate the whole open area. “We’ve got four Hammond LS-V-3400 ion drives backed by three of the Niagara-class fusion reactors. I’ve, uh, removed some of the safeties on the engines and tweaked the safety specs on the reactors, so we’re making just over five percent above rated maximum speed.”
Tony walked away from the others to lean against the safety railing and take in the sight of the engines.
Peter glanced around the area, then noticed the machining and fabrication tools and sauntered over to inspect them, hands tucked in his pockets and his boots scuffing the floor.
The two Dravitian technicians looked up from their work momentarily, apraising the Terrans, but staying quiet.
AJ made his way over to the reactors, and frowned as he looked at the readouts showing that the reactors were running hot, right on the edge of red-line. “Cutting these pretty fine.”
Allyson nodded as she looked over toward the tall man and started slowly walking toward him, “Um, yeah. I couldn’t figure out a good way to get more output from the engines, so I was just trying to route more power through them. These are still safe, but they’ll be burning up the plating faster than they should.”
AJ nodded and continued perusing, leaning down to look into an open hatch and seeing how one of the patched in high-energy line had been connected.
Tony continued to watch the engines and called, “Hey, Allyson, these still work with Cherenkov dispersal for additional thrust?”
Allyson quickly changed her trajectory to veer away from reactors and back toward the engines, “Uh, yeah, they do. There are controllers in there that help to make the emissions more directional.” She got to the railing and pointed at an orange ring that was visible on each engine right near the aft bulkhead. “Those big electromags help control the dispersal. I have plans and simulations on the computer if you want to see how they work.”
Tony peered in the indicated direction, then nodded and turned toward Allyson, “Yeah, get me to a terminal with some VR goggles and I’ll take a lo-” His voice cut off at the sudden sound from the engineering bay’s speakers.
A syncopated drum beat sounded over the hum of the machinery, then came an almost gravelly yell-singing voice. ”Come on, feel the noise. Girls, rock your boys. We’ll get wild, wild, wild.”
Allyson’s surprised gaze swept up to the big speakers mounted in the corners of the room by the ceiling.
Grins and smiles grew on the faces of the three older men, and they all joined in with the words as an electric guitar sawed into being and the rest of the band added their voices to the lead singer on a response answer of “Wild, wild, wild!” And then the drums picked up and the rest of the instruments kicked in, bringing the song fully into swing.
The singer continued as Peter’s hands played air-drums over a CNC machine’s working space, ”So you think I got an evil mind. I tell you, honey, I don’t know why. I don’t know why.”
Allyson had never heard the song, but the beat was compelling, and it somehow invigorated the men in a way she hadn’t expected. Just out of cold sleep, in the midst of an inevitable chase, with such limited resources, they were singing along with smiles on their faces. AJ was tapping on a reactor interface, and Peter was almost dancing as he poked about her workbench storage space, going over her tools, a screwdriver and electric ratchet stem in his hands as drumsticks for his air-drums.
The Dravitian technicians huddled in a fearful pose at the sudden noise.
Tony grinned widely at Allyson’s surprise, and said loudly over the music, “William’s got good taste for montage music… Show me that terminal.”
-=-=-=-=-=-
The Captain looked over to the Terran’s workspace which was now exhorting somebeing to ‘get wild, wild, wild’ over and over again. It seemed to have some detrimental affect on the older Terran, as its head was bobbing up and down as it continued to work with the code. The insectoid in command just had to say something. “Excuse me, sir. Are you sure that the distracting audio stimulation is beneficial for you? It does not seem to be related to your current task …”
William glanced over at the Dravitian, “Look, bug-boy, the music keeps my endorphins up, and tricks me into thinking I still have all the energy of a teenager. You’re just lucky that I know what my crew likes, and that this archive is low on industrial music.” He pauses and types intensely, then continues, “So no, it’s not related, but if you really want a chance to get away from those crab-guys, this music tips the scales in our favor, okay?”
The Captain abruptly looked back to its console. “Affirmative answer, sir.”
William nodded to himself, and cocked his head as he read something off the screen. “So, a bunch of the cargo is plasma generators for terraforming?” He looked over to the insectoid who was pointedly not looking at him. “Are those things as dangerous as they sound?”
-=-=-=-=-=-
“Hey guys!” William’s voice echoed from the big loudspeakers in the engineering bay as the song came to an end.
“Yo boss!” Peter called up toward the ceiling from the tool bench where he had accumulated a selection of choice tools.
“I got control of the control code up here. Some of it’s military code under all this glossy shit. What have you guys got back there?”
Tony stood amidst a holographic simulation of an engine, and called out, “We got some damped down ion engines. The design is like the old McPherson Mark Five, and I think I can flare ‘em up the same way. Gimme six hours or so.”
AJ looked up toward the ceiling after Tony finished, “These fusion reactors are running flat out, Bill. I’m thinking about patching up a capacitor bank so we can push things farther, or at least have some extra power when we need it. Three or four hours, depending on how easy I can find the parts.” he paused, “And I’m officially putting in a request for you to put something dance-able on your wheel of steel.”
Peter called out, “And I’m just waiting for these slackers to tell me what they need. But I’m all tooled up for just about anything they want.” He grinned playfully at the other two.
William’s chuckle came over the speaker, “Gotcha. Those sound like good projects. We get a powerful flare, we’ve got a chance to run.” He paused, “Allyson, you there too?”
Allyson, still near the holographic engine display, had been turning her head this way and that to try and follow the conversation and understand what the forming plan of the ‘troubleshooters’ was. She forced herself to call out, “Yes, Dr. Exeter.”
William’s voice came from the speakers, “Okay, Allyson, I need you to take Pete down to Cargo Bay Three and help him uncrate all of the plasma terraforming engines you can find there. Pete, I want those things sky-side against the outer wall of Bay Two and fastened in place. If we need power for them, I want you to run a line back to AJ’s source, and it will need to be vacuum sealed. We’re likely to depressurize that bay so try not to make too many unnecessary holes, okay?” He paused, “And don’t worry, that bay has some speakers too. I won’t leave you silent …”
Peter grinned and nodded, then started to load tools onto a nearby hovercart. As he worked, he called out, “On it, boss! Do they have any Ramones or Dead Kennedys or anything with more energy in that jukebox? That’s my request, Mr. DJ.”
William’s voice carried his chuckle, “I’m on it, guys. I’ll keep you updated, you guys let me know the word. Out.”
As the beats of New Order’s Blue Monday started to bounce around the engineering bay, Peter looked over at Allyson, “Hey, give me a hand with some of this. We need to bounce!”
Allyson registered the words and jogged across the bay to the hovercart, “Sorry, sir, we have to ‘bounce’?”
Peter chuckled, still pulling tools from the bench to add to the load. “We have to get moving. Can we bring that welder and thermal lance, or is there a better option?”
Allyson let out a quiet ‘oh’, then shook her head, “There’s a backpack unit that can cut and weld. Much easier to move.” She pulled open a a nearby locker.
Peter grinned, “Oh, sweet! Are there two?”
Part 2

It’s great that society is embracing African American hair. Lovely.
But why is it now okay to start asking black women “how long is your hair?”
Why do you need to know that??
Not all of us keep our hair in braids for aesthetic purposes. Mine is in braids because it’s curly, thick, and long-nobody has time for all that. Some women have growth issues, so that can be an embarrassing thing to answer.
It’s annoying! Stop asking!!

The healing gift of the jingle dance
Article Origin : Windspeaker Publication
Author : Pamela Sexsmith, Windspeaker Contributor, Poundmaker SK
Silver braids and silver jingles are a rare and beautiful sight.
Even in a culture that holds Elders in great esteem, 76-year-old jingle dress dancer Evelyn Thom is outstanding, a powerful role model and inspiration.
"My mother is very respected," said Shelda Thom.
"Her age and experience are unique and remarkable.
Seeing her dancing out there makes us feel proud and brings a lot of notice.
A lot of people see her and say, 'Oh, she puts us to shame!'
She is usually the only golden age dancer catching her breath at the end of the song.
My mother really moves, really gives it out there.
She is amazing, the only one dancing hard.
But she makes it looks easy."
Evelyn, who is often called upon to share her knowledge and blessings, is currently pursuing a vision to teach the original jingle dress dance style.
She recently came halfway across Canada to preside over the original jingle dress special at the 2003 Poundmaker Cree Nation powwow and get a message across: respect for the healing power of women and their close connection to Mother Earth.
"We wanted to show people in western Canada what the original style was like.
Original style jingle dress was a modest dance that celebrated the healing power and dignity of the Ojibwa woman, in which you did not show your legs," said Alanna Tootoosis, host of the special and 2001-2002 world champion jingle dress dancer.
"It is a gift to be able to dance.
The jingle dress was a gift from the Creator.
It is important to carry that healing vision to the people," she said.
Born in Morrison, Ont. in 1927, Evelyn enjoyed a traditional Ojibwa childhood.
"We lived in a log cabin in the winter and in a tent all summer on the lake.
We didn't stay on the reserve.
We went picking berries while the men hunted and fished.
That is what my Dad used to do.
We didn't use any motors, just paddling all day in a canoe.
We helped my Mom tan leather to make the moccasins which we wore all winter," said Evelyn.
She did not know any jingle dress dancers when she was little.
"We went to the round dance hall and the ladies danced in a circle or a line in the old traditional style, straightforward dancing, no kicks, and no high steps.
We were not supposed to pass each other.
That's the old way, how I was taught.
"The old dresses had no beadwork, just plain fabric or prints.
They were the same length back then as they are now.
They never wore beaded leggings the way they do now.
They just had moccasins made of smoked leather with no fancy decorations.
When I was young we were taught by tribal Elders that we should not wear plumes, carry fans or have any feathers.
The Ojibwa women just wore plain headbands."
Evelyn was given the right to dance jingle dress in 1947 at the age of 20.
"You had to have a dream or a vision about your ribbons and the colors you could wear.
You went to see the medicine man or woman who would give you their blessing and tell you to get your print, your ribbons and cones.
Then you would make your own jingle dress.
"In our tribe, Dorothy Paypompee was the medicine woman who gave us spiritual knowledge and healing.
She chose to give me the one feather that could be given to a woman, as part of the blessing and initiation into the dance circle," said Evelyn.
Evelyn was allowed to dance holding one feather decorated with three ribbons-yellow, green and red-the colors given to her by the medicine woman.
"We were only given one feather and the significance of the one special feather is now lost," said Evelyn.
"We also have a sacred dress.
My daughter Shelda has got one too, with ribbons on it, something the medicine woman gave to her.
Mine just has cones, no ribbons.
The medicine woman told me I was not supposed to wear that sacred dress in competition, only in traditional powwow."
Evelyn stopped dancing for a time when she lost a beloved sister.
When she started up again she had been battling cancer for several years.
"I was sick for a long time.
I went to se the medicine woman again and was given a second feather which helped to heal my sickness.
It has my colors on the ribbons and that was part of my healing.
That is why I go to powwows all the time.
When I feel sick, I put on my jingle dress and go into the middle of the arbor, dance in the traditional way and then I feel better," said Evelyn.
The original jingle dress dance is said, by the Ojibwa, to have originated in Ontario.
A medicine man's daughter was very sick and through prayer and meditation, he was given a powerful vision about a sacred healing dress from the Creator.
"The origins of the medicine dress have not been lost," said Evelyn.
"We had a dancer that I knew, on our home reserve at Whitefish Bay, named Maggie White. She was the original girl who was supposed to have been sick and it was her father who had a dream about a dress with all these jingling cones hanging off the material.
He spent days making the dress, put it on her, lifted her up to try to make her dance and when she finally was able to dance she got better.
Maggie passed away, an old women, in 1992," said Evelyn.
Evelyn, who has six daughters who dance jingle dress and a husband and two sons who are grass dancers, brought her youngest daughter Shelda into the circle at the age of two.
"My mother has taught me that the healing dress is sacred and that we must be respectful in the keeping and proper care of the dress.
In Ojibwa tradition, nobody was allowed to touch or wear another person's dress.
We would never lend our sacred dress out to another woman or allow the dress to get wet in the rain," said Shelda.
Jingle dress is a relatively new dance category from the mid-1990s, according to the Thoms.
If you watch traditional powwow in Ontario or Minnesota, you can still see groups of hundreds of original jingle stylists dancing in unison with low dignified steps.
The rhythmic sound of the jingles is said to be very beautiful, like 10,000 raindrops on a tin roof
"You would like to see that at regular competitive powwows, but you just don't.
What you see is contemporary style and as the years progress they are just getting more and more fancy.
Jingle dress dance has become very competitive, one dancer against another, each trying to be better than the next, fancier steps, outfits and beadwork, bigger feathers and plumes, trying to catch the judge's eyes," said Shelda.
"In this way, the spiritual meaning of the dress is lost.
Young girls do not understand or respect the dress.
Once you put it on, it is supposed to be sacred and you have to be special when you are out there dancing," said Evelyn.
"We dance in several dresses and never lend them out.
The dress that you choose to wear, brought to you in a vision or a dream, is your jingle dress and only you are supposed to wear it," said Evelyn.
"My mother wants to see the tradition of the dance passed down with the correct teachings; a real respect for the healing tradition, the old style and yourself as a traditional woman when you are wearing that jingle dress.
It is very humbling to have this responsibility.
I don't think that there is anybody who is really worthy," said Shelda.

Sorry if this isn't the right post for this community, but I just wanted to reach out and see if anyone could help.
I live near Boston, MA and I really want to get my hair braided for the summer (box braids or locs). Howeverrrrr, I did recently big chop it. It's grown a bit, it's about 1-2 inches. I've seen videos of women being able to grip short hair for braiding, but I'm having no luck finding ones in MA.
So if anyone does short hair braiding in MA, or knows anyone who does, I would really appreciate it.

I had long hair (past shoulders) up until recently, and I must say I noticed major differences in the way I was treated. Could be a fluke, but women were much friendlier and treated me a lot more like a human, and there was this sort of comradery between me and other long-haired men. Going back to having shorter hair was almost a bit of culture shock to be honest.
Like, it was to the point that I'm growing it back out for that reason alone. So many little things. The conversation starter. Asking women about their hair routines, and them talking about it like I'm a peer of theirs, not just some guy. Occasionally women ask me if they can straighten, curl, braid, or style my hair and I love it, it's so nice. They ask me for a ponytail, or I ask them for one - and it's just this little nice thing. I love it.
Have you noticed a difference? I only have anecdotes, but I can't be the only one.

Disclaimer This may not be the most uplifting post in the world. And I have noticed there is a distaste for black women on this sub who are struggling or not fully self actualized. So I ask for your grace… if it turns too negative, I’ll just delete it. But I would like you alls input/advice.
Currently a 36 year old black woman in NYC. Haven’t really had any serious romantic interest from men, in general, ever. Relative to all the amazing beautiful talented successful women in the city, I’m just not pretty enough to make an impact, be noticed, have a dating life…
I’ve never really had experience dating or being pursued, but I would like to. I really want to have a pretty girl experience or even a normal girl experience. Go on dates and get in a relationship where my partner finds me attractive. I’m not objectively ugly, so perhaps changing locations would do the trick.
I understand youth is a big part of that and perhaps that ship has sailed, but, we’re here now 🤷🏾‍♀️. Body 😬, 5’5”, 190lbs… but small chest so I don’t really fit into the bbw space for desirability. Otherwise i am unambiguously black. Brown/dark skin, brown eyes, 4c hair. Usually in braids.
Where might someone who looks like me be valued and seen as a romantic option. Suggestions appreciated.
In regards to being my best self and improving my looks. I am attempting to lose weight, get breast implants, start Invisalign, wear my hair in straight/kinky weaves. Even aftebefore all this, I would like to put myself in environments were I would be considered attractive. Although there are global standards, beauty standards are also regional.
Anyone have suggestions on areas where they perhaps moved to and experienced a positive reception to their looks.
Thanks ladies.

First
Bubba made his way through the outer wall of the Block, nearing the greenhouse. Pusdot quickened his pace and walked up beside him.
"That human, he is making me an orb for me?"
Bubba looked over at him, still walking briskly past the windowed doors of shops. "He's making translators. Orbs are harder and he said he doesn't have the parts. But it'll work the same."
Pusdot looked around, away from Bubba. "But will it be a sphere like yours?"
Bubba shrugged. "I don't know bud. Main thing is making it work."
He widened his eyes. "This is true. I like your sphere though." He focused two eyes on Bubba. "I would like to talk more with him about electricity." He chittered his teeth. "That is a fun word. Electricity." He shifted an eye back at Sliplegs. "Electricity."
Bubba laughed and looked around a corner toward the large arch of the greenhouse. "Figured she'd set up shop here. Stupid scientists, gotta make things expensive for working folk."
Pusdot shifted his eyes at the green light filtering in from the room ahead. "It, it smells."
Sliplegs reached up with his free hand and covered his face. "Awful. It hurts."
Bubba stopped and looked toward the greenhouse and then back at his friends. "It hurts? Shit, I didn't think of that. Yeah, everything in there is foreign." He raised a hand up, looking back and forth. "Well, um. I can take the armor in. You guys can stay out here."
Pusdot raised his hand up toward Bubba. "No. It is tolerable. I can carry things in."
Sliplegs raised his hand up as well. "Just, strong smell, I am okay too."
Bubba looked over both of them. "You guys sure? I don't want to fuck up again. I almost killed you once already Pus."
Pusdot widened his eyes further, showing the whites. "I want to see in there. Go on Bubba Yaga. I want to learn more magics."
Bubba laughed, turning, and walked into the greenhouse.
---===*===---
Dahlia was at her desk in the greenhouse office sequencing vials when the man knocked on the door frame. She looked up to see the unshaven fisherman and then noticed the two xenorachs at his side. She smiled and stood up. "Live specimens!"
Bubba shook his head and looked at Pus. "Nah, nah, these are my friends." He motioned for the wrapped fnga armor and Sliplegs handed it over. "We're wondering if you want to buy these?"
Her face soured as she looked at him. He pulled off her glasses and pointed at Pusdot. "Tell me about these two. They're, they're helping you? How did you manage that." She put her glasses back on and stepped closer to Sliplegs. "They seem docile, yet they are predators. Other inmates told me they were attacked by several of them. How'd you tame them?"
Pusdot bowed slightly, darkening his eyes and grumbled his native speech. The orb translated. "I am sorry my kind attacked yours. We have been under attack from yours as well. I hope we can have mutual respect of territory."
She took a step back. "Holy hell." She covered her mouth. "Pardon my language." She pointed toward a chair. "Inmate, sit. I need details, now."
Bubba raised his hand, face stern.
She stared right back at him and pointed at the ceiling.
Bubba looked up and noticed two crawlers nested in the ceiling, their Crucible M10's aimed at his head. "Yes Ma'am." He said, sitting down slowly.
She sat back down at her desk and smiled at the xenorachs. "Please. Please, if you understand me, pull up those two chairs."
Sliplegs looked at his father with an eye and Pusdot nodded back at him. The two pulled their chairs over and sat beside Bubba.
She crossed her hands on the desk. "This, this is a discovery. I, want this. This is my thesis. I've been scouring through samples looking, hoping for something game changing. Yes, there's dozens of new amino combinations, but it's all probably registered in some synthesized database somewhere. My only hope, until now, was finding real life applications of theoretical life processes, and no one cares about that. People live in generated worlds all over. But these!" She smiled. "These two, their kind. This is going to be a political nightmare." She laughed. "I love it!" She pointed at Pusdot. "You, tell me about yourself."
"I am Pusdot."
"Pusdot." Her face tightened as she thought on his name. "That's kind of gross." She looked over at Bubba. "Is that thing working right?" She asked pointing at the orb.
He nodded. "The males get shit for names."
Her eyebrows raised. "And the females?"
"Warriors, defend the territories. The guys serve them." He groaned. "Been a pain keeping them fed."
She tapped her glasses, thinking for a moment. "And, you're feeding them? Why? That how you, that why they are here?"
Bubba looked at Pusdot for a moment. "We barter, yeah. Mostly we feed them so my buds here don't end up eaten."
"Oh my god!" She shook with excitement. "That's so eerie similar! Convergently evolved and sentient!" She leaned back slightly. "Well, at least they aren't crabs."
Bubba nodded. "Yeah. It's hard telling what worlds each of them are from. I've pissed off a few in my day."
She nodded back at him. "So, you. Pusdot. You're here of your own free will? He's not taking advantage of you or anything?"
Pusdot shifted an eye toward Bubba. "No. He is a friend. He helps me. I owe him for my life, and my children's lives."
She looked back at Bubba. "An inmate, helping a native. See, I shouldn't judge should I."
"No Ma'am." He smiled.
She looked over at the satchel. "What are those, you were wanting to sell me things?"
Bubba put the tarp containing the fnga shells on the table. "Yeah. I heard you buy stuff like this."
She looked them over. "Trappers brought in a few of these. Odd bottom dwelling creature, probably a divergent from these fellas evolutionary line. The exoskeleton has similar compositional components as theirs, yet probably millions of years apart." She looked over at Bubba. "Like us and, I dunno, cats maybe. It's like their lions." She looked back at the shells, poking through them. "Good flesh chunks dried in here. I can sample those. The shells themselves, yeah, I can make some pottery for my aunts. Save on Christmas gifts." She looked up at the xenoarchs. "The shells you can heat them, bind them together you know. Similar to glass blowing, weird carbonic silicate interactions." She looked back down. "All the silica on this world, its made for some interesting biomes. I'm amazed you inmates stay alive out there."
Bubba blinked slowly, sighing. "How do you mean?"
She kept poking through the flesh, testing it with her pen. "Minimal tech, hostile creatures, horrible environ, everything bites, plant life is toxic and irritation inducing." She looked up at him. "You're a pretty resolute individual I gather."
Bubba shrugged. "I come from a long line of survivors Ma'am."
She nodded. "About that." She raised a finger up. "Crawler. Give me details on the inmate before me."
One of the metallic forms on the ceiling shifted, aiming a blue eyelet toward her. "Inmate 77743. Tillman Layfayette Gumphries. Insolvent. Deemed societal drain. Hotdropped AUTU 556-10 on planet Q39-C."
She nodded. "Non-violent?"
Bubba nodded.
Sliplegs chittered his teeth.
She looked over at the smaller male. "What was that?"
Bubba smiled. "That's how they laugh."
"And why, did you laugh?"
Sliplegs bowed his head, darkening his eyes. "Bubba Yaga shakes the trees with fire and thunder, Ma'am."
Dahia laughed. "Bubba Yaga? Teaching them our tongue already." She looked at the man. "Take them out hunting?"
Bubba nodded.
She leaned back and stared at him for a moment. "How long are you in town?"
Bubba shrugged. "Dunno. I got a few errands. Was hoping to get back tonight, but we're running behind."
"Just you three?"
He shook his head. "Wives are with us."
"Wives?"
Pusdot nodded, widening his eyes. "Sliplegs wives and the Alexandra Ma'am."
She laughed, clapping slightly. "Sliplegs." She looked at the smaller male. "I'm guessing, you? With how his eye shifted toward you?"
The young male nodded awkwardly. "Yes Ma'am."
"Given the giant trees, and their probable hunting strategies. I can see the importance of their eyes. Kind of like hawk sight I bet. Far distances with open space require a sense capability of detection. Smell might be good, but this whole place is fetid, and the noises from beyond the wall at night are crazy loud. Sight, that's been good to you guys." She took a deep breath, bobbing her head. "I'll buy the shells. You do the barter system they do around here, or what?"
Bubba smiled. "I heard, you have currency?"
"Credits or Clams?"
"Credits Ma'am. Fuck the Clowder."
She smiled. "Yeah, fuck those fascists." She pulled out a pad and looked up at him. "Good good, you're linked to your inmate number." She tapped the screen. "Okay, sent you over three hundred. That good?"
His eyes went wide and a smile crossed his face. "Yes Ma'am! That's, that's generous."
She shook her head. "No inmate, that's including the next part of our transaction."
His face went slack.
"You're going to take me out with you. Let's say, one agreed upon temporal week?"
"One week? Out in the swamp with me?"
She motioned at the two spiderfolk. "With all of you. This is a research expedition." She pointed up at the crawlers. "How big is your boat?"
He looked up at the massive metal constructs gripping the support beams in the ceiling. "Not that strong Ma'am."
She groaned. "You have guns obviously. Can you guarantee security?"
He sighed. "We'll need to run this past my wife first. Then we can talk safety concerns."
She nodded. "Yes, and the other two wives?"
He nodded back.
"Alright. Let me get some things together and we shall go meet with them."
He raised his hand up slightly. "Um, I was supposed to, she uh."
She shook her head slightly. "She uh, she uh what?"
"I was hoping to barter with you for some plants. She's got a garden going in the back room, and was hoping for some new flowers."
Dahlia raised a finger. "Screw flowers. I got just the thing for her. Rare in this arm, hard to come by but I love them." She got up and walked over to container along the back wall of her office. She slid open the drawer, cold mist rolled out. "If she knows anything." She looked up at him. "Which I hope she does, given she's a gardener." She looked back down and pulled out a glass tube holding some green finger like plants with roots.
"She was hoping for flowers. You, you don't have any?"
She glared at him over her glasses. "Asparagus, Bubba. She'll be thankful for it, I guarantee." She put it in his hands and turned around, shaking her finger in the air. "I need to make a list. Yes. What all I'll need." She looked back over at him. "You will provide food and housing correct?"
He stared at her.
"Your home, inmate. Is it adequate for guests?"
Pusdot raised a hand up slightly.
She looked at him.
"I stayed there last night. It is a good temperature and the smells are not overwhelming."
She shrugged. "Good enough for me." She smiled. "I'll start packing. Wait here for me."
Bubba sighed and remained seated.
---===*===---
Alexandra sat next to Elise, each a drink in their hand. Quietbite sat behind Alexandra, braiding her hair.
Elise took a sip and looked at the creature's work. "Watching their hands move, it's mesmerizing." She looked up at Alexandra. "And that dress." She laughed. "I'm sorry I got all jelly."
Alexandra smirked back. "Kinda my fault."
"No, no. We shouldn't of."
Alexandra cut her off. "I wanted to show off."
"Well it worked." Elise laughed, the laugh jarring her ribs forcing her to hold them. "Ow. I'm going to feel that tomorrow."
Alexandra put her bottle up to her forehead. "Me too." She laughed. "That was a good swing."
Elise pointed at the the two spider women. "These uns, they're fierce. Came out of nowhere."
Alexandra smiled over at Gorepull. "Yeah, they're top bitches in the woods." She leaned toward Elise whispering. "They eat their men if they step out of line."
Elise's face lit up. "Holy shit, that's void as hell."
"I know right. I love em, don't tell them though. They're like a hierarchy or some shit."
"Really?"
"Yeah, they have queen mothers and everything. Men are basically slaves. I love it."
"Shit." Elise said, looking at her friends. "We need to get some swamp husbands, meet the locals."
Alexandra nodded and took another sip. "I might could get them to make you a dress if you want." She looked over at Elise. "Won't be as nice as mine, but it'll be nice."
Elise stared back at her, leaning in her chair. "How much?"
Alexandra drained her bottle and sat it on the table. "Bubba's hooch is shit. You still got Jackobs on your short threads?"
Elise smiled. "He couldn't stop if he wanted to. Man's a beast."
"He still got those beehives over in the greenhouse?"
Elise nodded.
"I'll trade you a dress for ten bottles mead."
Elise looked at her friends and they nodded back at her. She looked back at Alexandra. "Twenty five bottles, three dresses."
Alexandra thought for a moment, looking at Gorepull, feeling Quietbite braiding her hair. "Deal. Let me work it out with them, and I'll get you a day you can come out and get fitted."
Elise tilted her head. "Fitted? Out there, in the swamp?"
Alexandra blinked slowly. "That a problem?"
Elise nodded. "Big fucking problem. We ain't going out there."
She groaned. "Thirty bottles, three dresses, and we do it here."
Elise mirrored her groan and extended her hand. Alexandra shook it just as the door opened. They looked up and saw Bubba, Pusdot, Sliplegs, and a strange woman with a large brown rucksack over her shoulder.
Elise laughed. "I'm guessing they're with you?"
The orb floating beside Bubba translated her question into the xenorach's language. Quietbite leaned forward chittering. "That little one is my husband." The orb replied as it floated over.
Elise's face went pale as she stared at the female. "That, is trippy as fuck."
Quietbite chittered again. "I wanted to tell you Alexandra. I like the strands you grow. They are pleasant to my fingers."
Alexandra sighed. "Thank you Quietbite, and thank you for the backup earlier."
Gorepull took a drink from her bottle. "I enjoyed the fighting." She looked at her sister.
Quietbite looked over at the taller of Elise's friends. "I am happy to taste a new opponent. Mother will be impressed beyond believing."
Bubba walked over, staring at Quietbite braiding his wife's hair. "Well, this is going better than I expected." He then noticed the swollen spot on Alexandra's forehead. "And that, is as expected."
Alexandra pointed at Elise. "Just getting reacquainted with an old work friend."
Bubba laughed, tipping his head toward the woman. "Hey Elise. How you been?"
She smiled back. "Good T.L. Been hearing good things about you and your boys there."
He looked back at the two standing next to him and Dahlia still standing near the door.
Alexandra looked over at her. "Who's your friend Bubba?"
He sighed, touching his hair. "Dahlia Strong. She's coming with us, wants to research them."
Alexandra looked her over in more detail, noting her hair, soft skin, perky chest. "She paid well I hope?"
He nodded and remembered the box in his hand. He opened it up and handed it over to her. "It's not a flower, I'm sorry."
Alexandra looked inside, noting the perennial vegetable inside. "Asparagus!" She looked up at him. "You, dumb lovable fool!" She hit him on the arm and then looked over at Dahlia. "You give him this?"
Dahlia walked over, nodding. "Yeah, he said you had a garden going."
She laughed. "This is worth a fortune. What he promise you?"
The scientist's face grew serious. "One week, meals and quarter provided. Your husband is going to be my guide, introduce me to your new friends." She tilted her head. "And you of course." She gave a quick smile. "Nice dress by the way." She looked at the female xenorach braiding her hair. "She make it?"
Quietbite's eyes darkened toward the woman. "That is a male weave. It demands submission." The orb translated.
Dahlia looked over at Sliplegs. "Culture, meaning. This is, this is fascinating already." She looked around the table, noting Gorepull's eyes all focused on her. She extended a hand at the large female. "Dahlia."
Gorepull stood up, taking the woman's hand in her own. She looked down at her as she rose to her full height. "I am Gorepull. Daughter of Mother Silentcut, apprentice to self proclaimed Queen Alexandra."
Dahlia's eyes widened. "Pleasure to meet you."
Gorepull squeezed her hand tighter. "You wish to learn of us?"
Dahlia nodded slowly.
"I will take you Dahlia. You will be my apprentice."
The researcher looked slowly at Alexandra.
Alexandra smiled at her, nodding slowly.
Dahlia looked back up at Gorepull. "That, is, acceptable."
Gorepull let go and looked over at Sliplegs. "You have done well husband. You are earning your place in our nest."
Sliplegs bowed slightly, his eyes darkening pitch black.
Bubba looked around at everyone. "Well, we got a bit to wait on Gime. Another round the house on Thompson?"
The room erupted in cheering and Susie smiled behind the bar.

DOES IT OR DOES IT NOT? SOME BW are only in agreement that it does grow when a white woman or a racially ambiguious woman repeats what they say online (black hair cant grow, my head so hard) so its scelective outrage when this occours. When BW are saying that it cannot grow, they are all in agreement that "no it does not" because they feel comfortable when mammies say these things.
This lady decided to say black hair cant grow and went on a rant about it and natural hair got her look masculine. She also said other disturbing things pertaining to herself but the projection and insecurity had me very disturbed. Many BW made tik toks in response to combat what she said which was a false statement and in my opinion
YES IT DOES GROW!
That video had me laughing because the OP really was projecting hard like so much info has been spread about growing natural hair and because she lazy and hates herself she decide to hit record and post on Tik Tok like is she not embarassed? She striked a youtubers channel down and it was uncalled for.
I am so glad I stopped watching BWE spaces and tiktoks because they THRIVE off of insecurities and slurping on BM validation. I am too old to see this content and hypocricy to the point where I roll my eyes.
BW can grow long hair and there are many women online that has acheived that due to INVESTING time to learn about their hair type, persosity, density and also use herbs/ oils.
In life if you want something you gotta WORK for it and it takes delication. Other examples of BW with lomg hair are the Woddabe women have long hair as well as East African ladies
The reason why ( alot of) BW have such a horrid mentality about her natural hair is because of MAMMIES LIKE HER yapping disgusting things about her hair and features usually in front of her children. Also this is perpetusted by BM whom as we know HATE anything resemling blackness and both parties create venom to poison BG from young talking about you head too nappy, too tough, your head look stink and some BW repeat this nastiness to their daughters and want to make every BW insecure about her hair and try to imply BW are bald headed. Of course that line is famously uttered by BM and their agents. mammies and bm identified people
Many BW moms are jealous mammies who put perm in babies hair, tell them nasty stuff as they style their daughters hair, pull their hair too hard, ignore BG as they cry when they get their hair done, verbally abuse them, braid the hair too tight and take them to wicked hairdressers who some of them put curses on your child.
Mammies HATE what they produced. That is child abuse by harming their daughters through hair and refusing to teach about hair care.
That's why if a BW shows a positivre hair journey and a different point of view you hear the insecure ladies come with these sayings:
How I could get your hair?
My hair cant do that
Thats Your experience
Our head real tough to manage
Our hair is ugly
Whats your hair type
WHAT YOU MIXED WITH
YOU GOTTA BE MIX UP WITH SOMETHING
THATS A WIG!
I COULD FIND HAIR LIKE THAT IN THE STORE
I SEE SCALP! THATS A WIG
Some of these mammies are the same type that would cut their hair at the same time as you out of jealosy, say nasty stuff about all natural hair in earshot and overall have such a garbage self esteen about their hair that you do not want to be around that negativity. Talking about good hair , bad hair. Why? Like all hair is great! It's divide and conquer based on the proximity to who the BM likes and finds acceptable, they break down BW so they can laugh at how stupid these mammies sound knowing they control her mind. The reason why our dads,brothers, boyfriends and strangers say this is to control our SELF PERCEPTION so they can manipulate us to do whatever.
Ladies however you wear your hair, it is good on your terms. If you got an afro and you hear somebody try to project onto you, wear your hair for YOURSELF because thats the hair that grows from your scalp. You can do research, care for it and make sure it healthy no matter the size of the fro.
Please ignore insecure mammy rants like this disguised as ReLAtAbIlItY, it's putting dust in the apmosphere and truly pafectic seeing how BW commentary on YT and TT boiled down to making a mockery of yourself. It's disapointing.

7th: Ami Cusack 1.0 (Vanuatu - 6th)

queen shit
u/SMC0629:
Ami is easily one of the best villains the show has ever seen, and her time on Vanuatu is super important. From the swap to the final 8, she practically controls the entire game, seeming to be unstoppable. Her strategy and charm make her super entertaining to watch, but her downfall is just as good at the hands of Scout and Twila. Easily one of the best characters in Vanuatu, so happy she made endgame.
~
u/DryBonesKing:
I don’t think I can even do a small little short write-up like this on Ami and give her the justice she deserves. She is in contention for being the most complex character of all time, with her balancing out being probably one of the most empathetic people Survivor has ever cast while simultaneously playing one of the most ice-cold games the show has ever seen. Ami’s ability to turn off her heart and completely snow someone in the most ruthless way possible is second to nobody.
There is something truly beautiful watching this force grow and develop into the de facto leader of the Yasur all women’s tribe and become essentially a Queen that ended up taking herself out of the game; her biggest mistake ended up being a brief, fleeting moment of empathy that she had never displayed prior, and it makes all the more impactful to see that of all things lead to her end. Combine that with the grandness of Leann’s blindside the round prior to her own and Scout’s voting confessional for her, and you essentially are left with possibly the most dynamic vote-out in Survivor history, bar none.
My Dad is someone who barely remembers any Survivor seasons after they finish airing, but Vanuatu is one of the few he remembers. And while it probably helps that both my Mom and I are obsessed with the season, it probably also is mainly because of Ami, who just struck a real deep image in him as probably one of the most intimidating villains the show has ever produced. I think that’s probably my biggest takeaway regarding her and why she feels so important to me; if you watched Vanuatu, you should just simply know how amazing she is. God, how in the literal fuck is someone like her not even the best character on her season? Vanuatu truly is one of the most top-heavy, blessed seasons the show has ever produced.
Overall Rank – 10/821
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u/Zanthosus:
Ah yes, the ice queen and star of Vanuatu. She’s a spectacular addition to an already incredible cast and the season wouldn’t have half the soul and complexity without her.
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u/Tommyroxs45:
Ami’s the Ice Queen! Her leadership role on Vanuatu is just perfect, and her downfall at the hands of Chris, Twila, Eliza, and Scout is told so eloquently that you don’t hate Ami but you also understand why she’s being voted out. Now is Ami the most entertaining presence? No, but her role and story is just something not replicated by anybody else ever and it just makes it something so special.
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u/ninjedi1:
What can I say about Ami that isn't going to be said already? As much as I hate the term with how often it's used for almost every survivor woman, Ami really the mother of Yasur, as she cares about all the women on it, showing her more caring side, but she can also show her claws when the men show up, ready to take them out as well. However, it's that personality and clashes with the other women that lead to her downfall, and it's overall a more unique and interesting villain story compared to others.
~
u/Regnisyak1:
Ami Cusack (Vanuatu, 6/18)
One of my favorite pieces of symbolism that occurs in Vanuatu is the motif of Ami stabbing coconuts with a pike. How can a story get any more perfect than that? And just like Bubba, just like Lisa, just like Rory, just like Sarge, just like Chad… each person gets their coconut on the pike. One at a time, one is frozen, iced out, and taken to the curb. The ruthless gameplay of Ami instantly becomes a classic aspect of her character. But, it’s the contexts behind her character that lead her to be such an exquisite character. One is her abundant feminism on the season, and how she advocates so hard for women's power, only to be destroyed by the existing fractures of the Yasur tribe. One is her kind-hearted soul, as we see countless times throughout the season, perfectly contradicting her ruthless nature. One is her brother watching over her, which leads to her vitriolic reaction against Twila swearing on her son’s life. One is her being the first lesbian (tied only with Scout) in the series who makes it to the stage where she can have a loved one run out to see her. The culmination of these character traits leads to a character that quickly becomes a legend, with some of the most intense complexity the show has ever seen, and much-needed representation the show needed.
Ami’s story on Vanuatu is a beautiful crescendo that depicts a rise to power and a fall from grace. Ami was in good on the tribe, had maintained a fantastic position, and was the mafia boss in the game, threatened by anyone who said her name, and eliminated thereby after. But the morality of Ami is what makes her so interesting. Ami is driven and determined, but her heart of gold shines through constantly. Her competitive streak came out on Survivor, but through her relationships, personal contexts, and incredible characterization, we get one of the most interesting villains in the history of the show and someone with a downfall that feels earned. It’s tragic, the way she’s eliminated, but the cockiness and arrogance she gets are incredible.
Undeniably, Ami’s story is wrapped around the concept of gender in Survivor. Her most important confessional explaining this fact is also her first confessional. At the ceremony at the beginning of the season, the women are put aside while the men are celebrated. Ami then states that she is not used to being put behind a man. At this point, the switch in Ami is already turned, and when the tribes are confirmed to be separated, Ami becomes a leading voice for feminism and keeps them together until the end. Adamant to create and maintain the first stable all-girls alliance, Ami’s determination becomes clear.
Even at the beginning, Ami is understood to be the one around camp, celebrating their gender, rather than tearing it down. She’s the leading voice against the men and beating them at the challenges. She is expressive toward Twila’s behavior on camp and becomes defensive when Twila states that she does not respect women who go around camp and just play with their hair all day (ask for your hair to be French braided!). She’s the first person to run up to Dolly when she breaks down. At first, during the pre-swap, Ami’s behavior is streamlined to supporting the women in the tribe, even if the cracks are already formulating quickly in the Yasur tribe, whether it is the division of women from young (+ Lisa) vs. old, or Twila and Mia’s behaviors further separating the two groups.
Preswap Ami shows her morals in the game - she deeply wants an all-women’s alliance to work, and there are clear good motivations for why she wants it to - it has never happened on Survivor from that point, and the culture expressed early by the Vanuatuans in the island made her volcano erupt and her determination set ablaze.
However, Ami’s motivations quickly begin to change, and that’s the moment that she comes into contact with the men. Yasur 2.0 has some new additions to the tribe, seen with Rory and Bubba, and that’s when Ami’s vitriol and desire to keep the women together becomes more harsh and unwelcoming than previously. Let’s start with Bubba and his ousting. Throughout the game, Bubba has been described as someone who is a well-meaning man who is out there for one reason - his family. His character is proven constantly to be a positive attribute of the tribe, and Lopevi 2.0 would have been shocked if it was him over Rory. But the issue is that Bubba gave a signal to Chris, leading to his spiral in the game.
Ami, at this point, is livid, and this is the most aggressive that we’ve seen her in the game. Immediately, the moniker “ice queen” becomes evident because after Bubba does that, there is 0 hope for him to reenter the good graces in Ami’s game. Ami doesn’t even need the extra 8 hours after the challenge to mull over the vote - it’s Bubba, full stop, and she doesn’t really have to do any more convincing. A man was going to go home anyway, so why even bother changing the vote around all day? Bubba’s boot represents the potential threat of the men making their leeway in the game, and the moment that signal goes off is when Ami gets lit up and she begins to play individually, in the best efforts to save the women’s tribe.
Or, so we think. It isn’t until the next episode, that we truly see Ami’s vision of the all-women tribe start to fall apart, with the leading domino - Lisa. I’ve mentioned before in this rankdown that I find Lisa to be an underrated character, just because of how integral she is to demonstrating Ami’s determination and no-nonsense attitude in the game. Lisa at the get-go was determined as untrustworthy because of her swing vote nature between the younger and older women on the tribe, and Ami’s loyalty and trust in her was already teetering on a thin line. It wasn’t until Lisa had a massive slip of the tongue, though, that her game imploded, and Ami again, iced out Lisa.
Lisa, asking Ami where the manioc is, in case something… happens to her, set off alarm bells within Ami, even if it was a clear slip, Freudian or not. With Lisa’s vote, we understand that the women’s alliance, while nice in concept, ultimately does not mean much down the line when Ami is threatened. Ami’s paranoia reaches an all-time high in this episode, and another switch is flipped when we see that she also understands that Survivor is an individualistic game at points, with the collectivist attitude allowing her to get to the end by helping her out when necessary. Lisa’s (and Bubba’s) vote also represents the beginning of the entitled Ami that we see and know throughout the season. She still talks about the women’s alliance with big eyes, but she comes cocky at this point, realizing that she is able to take people so easily out with her alliance and leadership role. The irony of Lisa’s vote, too, is that Lisa was a loyal soldier to Ami, even despite her previous behaviors before. We might never know what happened to the later portion of the game, but I can bet you that Lisa might have been more willing to keep Leann in the game and vote Eliza out. The shortsightedness with Lisa's vote is Ami’s game-losing move because her perception is changed, she loses a number, and the aura of Ami’s determination in the game becomes clear.
However, one character sees right through the bullshit of Ami, and how her ego is taking over her brain. Rory, the gruff crabass on the side who is doing anything to survive the little world of women on his tribe immediately clocks Ami for her behavior, and her brutal honesty about her wanting to keep the women together until the end becomes evident. Rory’s understanding that Ami is leading the vote him because he is a man, pisses Rory off, and he goes ablaze with the camp and Ami. Several slingshots later, Yasur skirts by tribal, but the merge is when the Ami vs. Rory relationship shines. Rory, fearing for his life in the game, is completely iced out by Ami, yet again, because of his gender. She wants to vote out all the men in quick succession and believes that the process should be easy and done.
But over Rory’s dead body will he go out without swinging. As soon as the other men come to the camp, Rory leaks Ami’s sour behavior toward him at the camp, and her complete cockiness and arrogance are evident as the women’s alliance becomes more and more true. Rory running around and throwing out that Ami is a massive threat in the game is important because it puts people on edge, and the other players begin to see what Ami is, even despite the misconstruals - she is a shrewd player who is potentially using the women’s alliance as protection for herself as the game goes on further. Scout, Twila, all the men, and Eliza at some point begin to see through Ami’s behavior in the game and realize that she is the kingpin in the tribe.
However, people continue to fall in line because Ami’s ice froze over the men at that point. Rory becomes the quick sacrificial lamb for their tribe, especially given Twila’s connection to the other men. Lea is a dead man walking following Twila’s fear against him lying to him. Chad… well Chad is a man, so sadly he needs to go. Ami (and Twila) are the leaders against the men, with Ami’s context being that she needs the men out as soon as possible and doing anything in her power to do anything for it.
This is why Ami’s next vote is so peculiar - she doesn’t go for Chris, she goes for Eliza. The moment Ami takes her eyes off the prize, she implodes and her closest ally, Leann, is immediately stabbed in the back by Twila, Scout, Eliza, and Chris. Her deviation seems peculiar when given how she played the game throughout the season - she wants the women to win, yet Eliza becomes so annoying it becomes obvious that Ami is a people pleaser at the end of the day. She wanted to help Twila and Scout by getting out Eliza, and yet they used that against her. Ami was ultimately never an ice queen, but she wanted to do what was best for the others around her, and ultimately her judgment in this moment was a negative.
Leann and Ami have an interesting relationship on the show too. I rewatched Vanuatu for this writeup, and Leann impressed me the most from the season. She has a tenderness quiet about her that I found to be really interesting because it actively went against Ami’s larger-than-life personality of being a freeing person. I loved Ami’s strategy in the season, where she was actively using a personal love language with being a touchy person with others around her, and the juxtaposition of the more reserved Leann leads to a power duo between them where one is based around their quietness and the other is drawing people in through comforting people with physical touch.
Following Leann’s final tribal council, Ami’s shining moment was the following episode where we see the catty side of Ami fly out, as she expertly tries to maintain herself into the game. In this episode, we see Ami’s vulnerability at an all time high. Ami has never been on the bottom of the game at this point, and the position is terrifying for her because she is a control freak, for lack of a better term. We see Ami have a lot of emotions in the episode - anger and bitterness toward Twila and Scout. Love and admiration for Julie and Eliza. Desperation to maintain in the game, and her ambitions at an all time high. The performance in her boot is one of the episode, and the emotional climax of her ousting is devasting in a lot of senses, even when Ami was treated as a villain. It shows the complexities of her character and how, even though we are not rooting for her, she is still a tragic figure.
Three important relationships exist within her boot episode, being Eliza, Scout, and Twila. With Eliza, we see her play her like a fiddle and attempt to get her to switch sides to keep Ami in the game. I love how Ami is brutally honest with Eliza because she was one of the leading voices to keep her in the game after awhile. Eliza is an annoying personality, but they always forged a big sistelittle sister, and I think Ami’s constant working on Eliza at the reward was really important characterization that shows her personal nature in the game. But at the same time, Eliza is aware of her position in the game, and I think while she was portrayed as a swing vote but knew that Ami was the ultimate threat. Eliza talking about how much she loves Ami at the end of the episode however, and their tears at the end was beautiful.
With Scout, we see her nasty side come out, which is especially strange given their initial perceptions of Scout and how she was seen as the wiser woman on the tribe. Ami was a person who perpetuated that belief with Scout, but as the episode went on she began to see through the ultimate bullshitter on the island, Scout. Ami yelling at Scout to put down her blanket was a great scene, but it was really their dualing voting confessionals. Ami basically saying that she was not apart of any rainbow she’s ever seen and Scout referring that Ami was arrogant with lightning striking the highest point was some beautiful characterization between the two.
But the relationship with Twila is the centralizing moment for Ami. Something that I have glossed over during this writeup was the death of her younger brother. That was depicted during the incredible reward with coffee and Rory earlier in the season, but we learn that Ami is guided by her brother in sky, who is looking down on her from above. The characterization of that seems random at first, but we learn how it fits into the story the moment that Twila swore on her son’s life when she offered to stay in the group with Leann and Ami, and then turned around and voted her that not. Ami’s vitriol following that tribal felt earned because she was genuinely hurt by Twila swearing on something so serious. Twila was not proud of what she did, but she had to do it to stay in the game, at least by her ways of thinking. Twila is a great character because she seemingly overthinks aspects of the social strategy in the game, but this time, the consequences were severe.
I loved their fight in the following episode because you can see Ami’s heartbreak. Ami blames Twila for getting pulled into their vacuum of nastiness, but also continually calls her a disgusting human being for swearing on her son and making that mistake. With Ami, it is a personal moment, and Twila’s flippancy with life and death actually has a severe negative consequence with her. It’s a great characterizing scene, one of the best fights of the season, and helps embellish both of them.
Twila and Ami culminate to an incredible jury speech in a sea of fantastic moments from the final tribal council of Vanuatu. With Ami, she needs to know about the lying and why Chris and Twila relied on it so much during their time on the Fire Islands. She wants them to refute the lying, but she also needs to know why she didnt have what it takes to make it to the end. I love what Chris says here, saying that she has too soft of a heart (the ice queen was just the exterior), but it was Twila’s response where Twila was playing the game in anyway possible, and that meant doing anything, even those idea that are considered unsavory. Twila’s answer of “a little colder, a little meaner. I wear my emotions on my sleeve” was an incredible moment for both characters, and I think there was a massive sense of closure between the two characters.
But it’s the fact that Ami respected Twila enough, and her answer, that we get her being the only other vote for Twila at this moment besides Scout. I think there are a lot of reasons for why Ami voted for her. It shows her kindness toward other characters and how ultimately the ice queen exterior can be melted. It demonstrates that she ultimately was pro feminism the entire time, and even with Twila, someone she detested at the end, she still supported that narrative, and her goals were not fake at all. And, at the end of the day, Ami’s narrative still supported that. I love that she ultimately reaffirmed her goals during the season, and it’s yet another layer in her complex character.
Unarguably, Ami has one of the greatest stories in the history of Survivor. There was a conciseness with Ami, where she was not overexposed on the beach, but her downfall felt well-planned, and her relationships were defined inciredibly with a sense of nastiness, love, and anger that blended into a set of emotional and pecuilar relationships. Her emotional, kind attitude created a unique villain that might never be replicated on Survivor again and the complexities of her brother, relationships, ice queen and harsh strategy, created a character that was a rolling amount of fun, intensity, and someone with a downfall that had everyone seated.
My last note on Ami is that she is a great confessionalist and can be quite funny at times. Vanuatu is filled with a lot of fantastic confessionals (and also ones where Chris belittles women again and again, ZING!), but Ami had a few that really stuck out to me. One was the great Michael Jordan one with Bubba, where she mentions that Michael Jordan would never talk to the other team. Another was about Scout in her slash and burn episode, mentioning that Scout put cayenne pepper down her pants and she is ready to DANCE! And lastly, one of my favorite quotes on Vanuatu was when Eliza matched the grapefruits in the memory challenges, and Ami so seductively yells “nice grapefruits!” No random moment makes me laugh harder than that one.
I was a little nervous when I got Ami’s writeup (she was last picked, lol), but I really am glad that I was able to experience Vanuatu again and watch it more from Ami’s perspective. Previously, I did it from other people, like Chris the first time, and Twila the next, but with Ami, we understand her villain arc so well because it is rooted in her real life contexts. Before writing this, she was already top 10, but at this point I am even considering moving her higher. Slay Vanuatu tho!
SMC0629: 8
DryBonesKing: 9
Zanthosus: 4
Tommyroxs45: 10
Regnisyak1: 9
DavidW1208: 19
ninjedi1: 10
Average Placement: 9.857
Total Points: 69
Standard Deviation: 4.525 (8th Lowest)

Hello bookclub and welcome to the first discussion on Americanah!! Just a reminder please check out the schedule and Marginalia!
Summary:
Chapter 1:
We are introduced to Ifemelu. A recent graduate of a fellowship at Princeton University. Ifemelu is awaiting a train to take her to Trenton to get her hair braided. While reflecting on how no such store would be open in Princeton we learn Ifemelu writes a blog about her observations of American Blacks from the perspective of a non-American black. Ifemelu reflects on how some of her blog topics and how it had been gathering a loyal audience; however, Ifemelu has written her final blog in anticipation for her move back to her home country Nigeria. She reflects on her wanting to return and the prospect of seeing her former love Obinze. Ifemelu travels to Trenton making more observations about the various peoples in the area. She ends up at a salon and begins getting her braids. Her stylist Aisha works her braids and the two don’t get along very well. Ifemelu we learn has broken up with her American boyfriend Blaine who she really doesn’t love and that she has lied to her parents about why he is not arriving in Nigeria with her. Aisha pesters Ifemelu with a variety of questions including why Igbo men won’t marry non Igbo women which Ifemelu rebuttals mentioning her extended family have married a variety of people from different countries. Ifemelu tries to deflect Aisha’s questions but ends up slipping that she is going back for her man Obinze. We learn that according to Ifemelu’s friend Ranyinudo Obinze is married and has a baby daughter. Ifemlu has told a variety of people she is moving back including Obinze via an email.
Chapter 2:
Obinze sees Ifemelu’s email while being driven by his driver Gabriel. We see what Ifemelu wrote to him; Ifemelu uses a pet name that she had for him “ceiling”. This name was given to him while they were intimate with one another and no one else used this name for Obinze. We learn that Obinze’s last email exchange with Ifemelu was contentious; Obinze gives a beggar boy money from his car as he makes his way home through Lagos traffic while wondering if Ifemelu’s American boyfriend called her ceiling. We are introduced to Onize’s wife Kozi who is preparing herself for a dinner party with”the chief”. We are introduced to a wide variety of characters his daughter Buchi, the nanny Christina, his wife’s sister Chioma, a new house girl Marie, and Mohammed the gateman. Kosi begins to prepare for their evening as Onize gets ready for the dinner. Obinze remarks how he hopes an oil company is buying a new block of flats near their home which Kozi remarks his will bring shell. Obinze thinks how he already knows an oil company has rented the flats and how these senseless lies he tells Kozi are meant to have her challenge or speak against him; however, she never does. Obinze and Kozi arrive at the Chief’s party. Obinze reflects on the first time he attended one of the parties with his cousin Nneoma. We learned that the chief has pursued Nneoma, but she only has taken money from him to start her business, which after the Chief meets Obinze he does for him helping him build up his business. Obinze after attending many parties is told by Chief about properties he intends to buy for much less than they are actually worth and wants Obinze to front the deal; Obinze agrees with the encouragement of his cousin. Obinze becomes wealthy and his still not understanding why Chief decided to help him. While Obinze and Kozi are in attendance at chief’s party Kozi and Mrs. Akin-Cole debate on the merits of sending Buchi to either a French or English school. Obinze mentions why not send his daughter to a Nigerian curriculum, but both women are puzzled by his comments. While attending the party Obinze talks to a journalist named Yemi who Obinze feels sorry for because of his lacking education. Obinze reflects on when he ran into Ranyinudo at the Plams mall and he thinks about Ifemelu. Upon returning home and is cooked dinner, which reminds him how his wife dismissed their last maid because she had condoms on her personal. Kozi assumed the maid would attempt to engage in sexual relations with Obinze where he thought it was a precaution by the maid from her former employer which Obinze stated raped the maid. Obinze retires to his study and responds to Ifemelu’s email making the response “a balance earnest and funny” hoping it will garner a response.
Part 2
Chapter 3:
Ifemelu is still at the hair salon getting her braids. Aisha continues to pester Ifemelu about meeting and speaking with her boys she wants to marry. Ifemelu gets up and sees she missed a phone call that makes her smile. Aisha continues to pull ifemelu’s hair. This leads to a flashback of Ifemelu’s childhood when she witnessed her mother cutting off her own hair and burning both her hair and religious objects. Ifemelu’s moves from various churches and begins to become more devout, even conducting fasts to get Ifemelu’s father promotions, good heath, etc. Eventually Ifemelu’s mother begins to see an angel which leads her to settle with Pastor Gideon, Ifemelu reflects how while she as not religious her mothers faith did bring some comfort, until the General came into their lives. We see Ifemelu’s mother praise the arrival of the General who she references as the mentor for Ifemelu’s aunt Uju. Aunt Uju is able to get a position with a hospital with no open vacancies. Aunt Uju gains a new house and and many other benefits now that she works for the military hospital. Aunt Uju hopes to one day get her own clinic. While Ifemelu’s mother believes this to be a miracle, it was a random encounter at a wedding that prompted the General to wanting to take care of Aunt Uju. Ifemelu’s father loses his job after he refuses to call his direct supervisor mummy. While he tries to find a new job he eventually falls into a depression and is unable to find work. He rarely leaves the couch and eventually the family begins to fall behind on rent. Ifemelu’s mother continues to want to not show their struggling and continues to work with the church and has Ifemelu go to work with sister Ibinabo to make flower garlands. Sister Ibinabo is described as self righteous and has a hostility towards the young girls. Ifemelu makes a statement about why she should make garlands for men she views as criminals that give sister Ibinabo pause. Ifemelu’s mother finds out and becomes angry with Ifemelu, but Aunt Ujo is called over to help mitigate the situation. Eventually when Ifemelu falls in love with Obinze it is Aunt Uju who tells Ifemelu to kiss and touch but not to allow him to have sex.
Chapter 4:
We continue with the flashback showing Ifemelu and Obinze time in secondary school and their first meeting. Obinze is the new student from Naukka where his mother a professor and another professor were rumor to have gotten into a real fight, and that his mother had beaten the other professor. Ifemelu and her friend Ginika go to another students house for a party. Kayode the student hosting the party and some of the other boys try getting Ginika and Obinze together; however, when Obinze meets Ifemelu he becomes instantly drawn to her instead of Ginika. The two dance and hang out and later have a conversation about one another. Obinze tells Ifemelu the truth about his mother’s incident with the professor. It turns out she accuse the other professor of misusing funds and was slapped in public causing some female students to make t-shirts supporting her. As they speak Obinze states he intends to chase Ifemelu rather than Ginika. They discus Nigerian proverbs and debate about their favorite books. They kiss and start dating; they also begin to attend club activities of one another and Ifemelu begins to worry that she is too happy.
Chapter 5:
Ifemelu and Ginika have a falling out over Obinze, but this is short lived once Ginika family is going to be moving to America. Ginika is sad, but Ifemelu is secretly relieved. Their group of friends gather together before Ginika leaves and go through Ginika’s stuff. They joke that once she returns Ginika will have a pretentious American accent and will think Nigeria is backwards; in other words she will become “Americanah”. The group talks about their other connections or travels to foreign countries. One friend Emenike who makes up stories about having rich parents. Many including Obinze are wealthy or privileged while Ifemelu is on scholarship for their school. Obinze invites Ifemelu to his house to meet his mother which makes her nervous. Ifemelu meets Obinze’s mother who is welcoming. Ifemelu goes over often for dinners and movies. One day Obinze’s mother leaves and Obinze and Ifemelu hook up prior to her returning. When she gets back she notices the movie hasn’t changed scenes since she left and pulls Ifemelu into her bedroom for a talk. Obinze’s mother asks if they’ve done anything sexual, and Ifemelu says they have not. His mother advises her to wait. She asks Ifemelu to tell her when she and Obinze begin having sex, which exasperates Obinze, but Ifemelu feels no shame which she attributes to his mother’s tone.
Background information: A great deal of the story is in the shadow of the military dictatorships that occurred in Nigeria. Here are some information concerning some of the history of Nigeria.

Disclaimer: You can still be masculine and mature with braids, dreads long hair etc - however you can't deny there is a certain criteria for looking masculine and mature
I recently had braids, but I cut them to have a brush fade/buzz cut; I look more masculine and mature. I have a desire to wear blazers, collared shirts, slacks and boots instead of hypebeast/streetwear clothes. Nothing wrong with street fashion as I am and will forever be a hypebeast. I just noticed I get more respect and aura points - and of course I attract more women, even women much older than me. Just an observation

I was going over Romans (specifically chapter 14) and this stuck out to me:

Therefore let us pursue the things which make for peace and the things by which one may edify another. Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All things indeed are pure, but it is evil for the man who eats with offense. It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak. Do you have faith? Have it to yourself before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves. But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because he does not eat from faith; for whatever is not from faith is sin.

Specifically verse 19:

It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak.

And this led to another verse:

I desire therefore that the men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting; in like manner also, that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing, 1 Timothy 2:8-9

And it got me thinking, I know a lot of Christians that love a good steak, burger, hot dogs, etc. and I know a lot of women that LOVE wearing gold necklaces and earrings, especially to church.
But, these things are sins, we know they are, it says it right there in plain English for all to read, and yet we still do them.
TLDR:

Does anyone know any other verses that we Christians should follow, but don't in the modern day because it goes against society?

I was going over Romans (specifically chapter 14) and this stuck out to me:

Therefore let us pursue the things which make for peace and the things by which one may edify another. Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All things indeed are pure, but it is evil for the man who eats with offense. It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak. Do you have faith? Have it to yourself before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves. But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because he does not eat from faith; for whatever is not from faith is sin.

Specifically verse 19:

It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak.

And this led to another verse:

I desire therefore that the men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting; in like manner also, that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing, 1 Timothy 2:8-9

And it got me thinking, I know a lot of Christians that love a good steak, burger, hot dogs, etc. and I know a lot of women that LOVE wearing gold necklaces and earrings, especially to church.
But, these things are sins, we know they are, it says it right there in plain English for all to read, and yet we still do them.
TLDR:

Does anyone know any other verses that we Christians should follow, but don't in the modern day because it goes against society?

I was going over Romans (specifically chapter 14) and this stuck out to me:

Therefore let us pursue the things which make for peace and the things by which one may edify another. Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All things indeed are pure, but it is evil for the man who eats with offense. It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak. Do you have faith? Have it to yourself before God. Happy is he who does not condemn himself in what he approves. But he who doubts is condemned if he eats, because he does not eat from faith; for whatever is not from faith is sin.

Specifically verse 19:

It is good neither to eat meat nor drink wine nor do anything by which your brother stumbles or is offended or is made weak.

And this led to another verse:

I desire therefore that the men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting; in like manner also, that the women adorn themselves in modest apparel, with propriety and moderation, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or costly clothing, 1 Timothy 2:8-9

And it got me thinking, I know a lot of Christians that love a good steak, burger, hot dogs, etc. and I know a lot of women that LOVE wearing gold necklaces and earrings, especially to church.
But, these things are sins, we know they are, it says it right there in plain English for all to read, and yet we still do them.
TLDR:

Does anyone know any other verses that we Christians should follow, but don't in the modern day because it goes against society?