Swan neck rocking chair

[IA] accommodation request took eight months to get a new chair- FMLA

2024.05.15 05:24 harrcs03 [IA] accommodation request took eight months to get a new chair- FMLA

I was just wondering if I have any options legally speaking. I have MS and disclosed it when I was hired and in the interviewing process, I gave my employer a doctors note and April 2023 for an accommodation request for a new chair because of the one I had making my legs fall asleep and causing back and neck issues that I believe drastically affected my performance and concentration. After months of asking, I was finally told in NOVEMBER 2023 that I needed a more specific note detailing exactly what kind of chair I need so long story short it took eight months for my accommodation request to be granted and for me to get a new chair. Now I’m being singled out and on a two week performance review where my employment will be determined at the end of the two weeks. I’m just wondering as far as the accommodation request asking for a second note 6 months later is egregious in a sense and if I should file an anonymous complaint with the EEOC?
submitted by harrcs03 to AskLawyers [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 05:22 featherwinglove I did it again, a new Trimps novelization (more faithful to story messages than the other one) Tightniks Run Zero

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


2024.05.15 05:13 Tell_me_when_ (M19) Did getting complemented on having a big dick rewire anyone else’s views on showing off?

A few years back when I was in school, I was unusually self conscious about people seeing my dick through my pants. I kinda knew I had a hog on me, but that didn’t make me want anyone else to know. I was actually extremely anxious about anyone finding out for some reason, just felt like it would be embarrassing. I have a big softie so I used to go to school wearing loose clothes or hoodies that covered everything to avoid anyone ever seeing my bulge. But one day I was in class wearing the classic gray sweatpants (foreshadowing) and everything changed. The classroom was kinda weird and had stools instead of chairs. Halfway through learning about Shakespeare or something, one of my classmates (a girl I kinda liked) was sitting a few desks over and kept smirking at me and making little subtle gestures at me. Me, being dumb as a pile of rocks, thought she wanted a pencil or something so I kept trying to pass down pens and paper and shit while she kept sending it all back. After the class ended I found her in the hallway and asked what she needed. She just kinda stared at me for a minute then pulled me aside. She whispered in my ear and told me that she could see my bulge the entire class from the way I was sitting. I froze cuz this was like my biggest fear, but then she seductively told me it turned her on the whole class and she couldn’t stop thinking about how unbelievably big it looked. This made me feel very very strange in a way I hadn’t felt before, like realizing that there was a whole language I could understand but had never noticed. I just mumbled something probably incoherent and she headed to her next class, but not before telling me she hoped I would wear sweatpants to school more often. As she left she teasingly told me loudly across the hall full of students that she couldn’t wait to see my “enormous pet anaconda” in person one day. I stood in the hall slack jawed for a while trying to process what just happened and why I felt so unusual. I always felt like if a girl noticed my bulge, they would be disgusted or mad, but I had somehow never thought of the possibility that girls might actually have sexual thoughts of there own. Needless to say, for an immature horny kid who also happened to be packing a piece, this changed everything. All the years of being terrified someone might see my package instantly disappeared and I decided that if I had something special then I shouldn’t be self conscious about it. I stopped wearing baggy oversized clothes and started wearing well fitting skinny jeans, tight shorts, and of course, lots of gray sweatpants that showed off my dickprint. Over the next year, girls suddenly seemed very interested in me and I found myself having much more self esteem. I feel like this even bled into other areas of my life, though it might be subjective, but I made more friends, I felt more comfortable about how I looked, going swimming with friends, using urinals next to guys, hitting on girls, being sexual, and just talking positively about myself. Ever since then, all my friends know that I’m a bit of an exhibitionist who’s not afraid to be large and in charge. In the end though, I’ll never forget about the girl who started it all by letting me know that my big cock was something I should be happy showing off… and I certainly showed it off to her at her place that next week.
submitted by Tell_me_when_ to penissize [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 04:51 Storms_Wrath The Human Artificial Hivemind Part 512: The Pact Of Blades

First Previous Wiki
Ezeonwha was walking down a long hallway. The dry and plain painted walls and the pure white lighting of the lower levels of the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office helped to frame the dingy realities of those who could only afford these floors. Not even capable of having windows, these were for those who were the cheapest of the cheap or those who mingled with them. He'd passed several Guides on the way in, their claws echoing in the halls as a sign of authority in this lawless land.
Here, mediocrity was king, and he was a loyal servant. He drew his cloak closer about his neck, unwilling to reveal himself to those who weren't already equipped to see through it all. He was famous enough to be an abduction target if he let his guard down. This place was no exception, though Justicar tried to make them such. Too much security on the higher levels and too little on the lower levels. That was the way of things.
Another hallway, this one marked with bullet holes. Two contractors and a Guide were discussing the pricing of the fix project when he turned the corner. Their voices quieted to nothing, the stillness pressing down upon them with the same intensity as the false lighting. Ezeonwha clacked his jaws, giving them a low bow before continuing on his way. He saw the Guide's eyes light up with the sign of his implants getting a reading. It was another impromptu way of tracking via facial recognition, but it was an ancient practice.
Nothing was new about what the Guides did; only how many of them seemed to be on general patrol. Had Justicar hired more of them or actually done full conversions for all of them? Those arm cannons surely weren't cheap or ethical to insert into unwilling participants. And giving a victim a gun they couldn't be disarmed of was a very bad idea, even for Elders. And Justicar was better than most Elders when it came to abject stupidity. He'd likely only been dropped a few hundred times as a child versus the more likely Elder average of a few thousand.
Ezeonwha chuckled at his internal joke, heading deeper underground into the complex. He was going to a certain meeting, and it would be best not to be late. Even if the Guides tracked him, it wouldn't be negative. The group he had been approached by a few days ago wasn't a terror group. He'd looked them up. They dealt in 'freedom and liberation from all chains.'
The Eyes Of Liberty had focused upon Penny as their latest propaganda target and perhaps as a valuable ally in their fight against all tyranny. Though such a flowery message was likely steeped in idealism for the lower ranks, with more pragmatic and likely richer inner circle elites and leaders ensuring the pot would always simmer but never boil or grow cold. That was the way movements such as these managed to skirt the line between inaction and terrorism.
It was a dangerous thing to do. But these were dangerous times. If Penny left, he'd die. Someone with a grudge would kill him. It was a given, and he'd made peace with it now. He needed to get to work, to help others like him and those worse off, with just a small piece of the meager time he had left.
He was in the system as a friend of Penny, so little scrutiny would fall on him as he came and went. He had a new friend, one who was very interested in connecting to Penny.
The offer had come through his communicator, and he'd answered it given its interesting title. After a lengthy discussion about their goals for him and Penny, he'd agreed to at least have a meeting. He didn't tell them that he had a tracker from Phoebe, which would 'be impossible to miss' if things went badly. He knew the value he had, which was why one of the androids was also accompanying him under the guise of being a Sprilnav.
The android was 'walking' on all fours, its mechanical motion entirely silent. It was obscured by a wave of holograms and hard light holograms that would ensure that it wouldn't be considered suspicious beside him. His only guard was a capable one, and Phoebe had all the confidence of an AI who knew that the destruction of her android would only be an inconvenience for her.
Ezeonwha came to an unmarked door with a well-worn door frame. One knock. One pause. Two knocks. Another pause. Four knocks. He waited, and the door swung open. Eight Sprilnav greeted him warily but warmly, their eyes shifting to Phoebe.
The inside of the room was a dull red, coming from a pair of lights in the center of the ceiling that cast dark shadows near the edges. The whole room felt dark and dangerous, and the walls were lined with guns, computers, and several drones. Shelves and drawers were neatly stacked against the wall, as well as five couches and four double beds with ladder access to the top portions.
Bags of food rested atop a trash compactor unit, and the room service button on the inner side of the wall that Ezeonwha could see in the mirror was worn down to the raw metal. No paint jobs here, only grit and business. The room faintly smelled of body odor and assorted foods. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not what he'd expected from a group with sich a flamboyant name. Perhaps they worked in cell-based units. And that was another thing.
Minds were visible in the distance of the mindscape, but the people here were huddled together mentally. They appeared to be haphazard, but Ezeonwha recognized an old army-type defensive formation a mere step from each of their positions. They were more than they appeared. Though based on how their room looked, they probably weren't veterans, just decently trained.
As they walked through the doorway, a scanner activated. One of the Sprilnav, wearing a headset with numbers and letters swirling on the inner side of the visor, called out: "Phoebe android. Commando variant. Risk assessment: Certain Death. Ezeonwha. Carrying two pistols, one hidden in the pack on his left, and the other tucked inside a strap near the lower bottom of his chest."
That made them all pause, sizing each other up. Ezeonwha smiled nervously, failing terribly to break the building tension once again. His nerves started to get to him, but finally, Phoebe spoke. "Well, friends. I, for one, am happy to talk of the business of liberty. Tell us, what do you have in mind for my friend Ezeonwha?"
"It is not about him, AI. It is about the freedom all sentient beings deserve, and which we shall bring to the galaxy no matter if we are alive or dead."
"An honorable goal to strive toward," Phoebe said.
"Thank you. Your words are quite kind for your type."
"I didn't know I had one," Phoebe replied. "But thank you."
Ezeonwha turned his head toward the Sprilnav with all the fancy equipment.
"What is the best way for me and Penny to help in the fight?"
"The best way would be for you to start killing the gang leaders you come across. Barring that, have Penny ignore the graveyards, and continue freeing the slaves as she ought to. The dead have their freedom; the living need her work more."
"I agree with my companion," another of them said. "So far, Penny has done more for the fight for justice than any other on Justicar in generations, so it is a terrible thing to ask more, but we must ask. Even knowing the terrible toll it would have if she loses the Judgment, Sprilnav are at stake."
"People are at stake, you mean," Ezeonwha said. "There is no need to bring species into this."
"There would not be, but it is still a clear factor," another of them said, a female who looked more shifty in her gaze and demeanor. The Eyes of Liberty seemed like one of those groups with too much division.
"Do you disagree with each other often?" Ezeonwha asked innocently.
"Here and there," the tech guy said. "Not often enough to be a problem, and not when what matters is at stake."
"But that is the thing. How can you agree on when something that matters is a stake?"
"Is this a test?"
"Why would it be? Think of it as a genuine concern," Ezeonwha said. "To associate with your group, I have to be certain it will be resilient to change and risks escalating in the future. If the gangs cannot strike at Penny, they will pick the next best targets. Currently, that is me. If I associate with you in a way they can find out, and I assure you they will find out eventually, you all may be at risk as well. And your group's seemingly cell-based design also means large scale mobilization is difficult, ineffective, and risks severe coordination issues which cannot be quickly or safely remedied without changing core security features of it."
"You deduced all of that from context? You are smart, Ezeonwha. And have a good brain in your head. Everlasting knows we need one of those between all of us."
They all shared a laugh.
"I am not as young as I may look," Ezeonwha said. "Penny is not properly learned of the danger that faces us here. I am. The Underground will kill me when this is over. Do you want to die alongside me, all for your beliefs?"
Silence descended again. Ezeonwha kept the pressure on them when one of them stepped forward. "For freedom and liberty? Yes. I would die for that."
"As would I."
"And I."
They all declared the rest in orders that followed the patterns Ezeonwha was noticing. There were variances in their levels of belief and faith in their purpose. Each person had a different level of value difference, which meant that their lives would be worth more or less comparatively.
Cohesion was weaker, too. Not a full defector team, but likely pieces of several. Was that by design from a higher up leader, or was that just circumstance? Another thing to figure out later, that wasn't critical yet, but he would know before he truly went on any missions with them, if he did at all.
He suspected running messages to Penny would be the majority of their tasks. The quality of intelligence the Eyes of Liberty had offered was substantial. Perhaps enough for Penny to turn herself from a major annoyance to the gangs into an actual existential threat. With Justicar's swarming protection of the Fort Court and the 102nd Visitor Welcome Office, there was a limited amount of things that even the gangs could do. And if the rumors were correct, a Progenitor would be partaking in the trial.
"To be clear, if I join up with you, Phoebe would come too."
"Why would we let an AI join us?"
Phoebe smiled. "Without me, you'll die in this fight. You have trained for around 2000 days. You're acceptable combatants, as is Ezeonwha. But you are fighting in a city, and underneath it. You need to know how to keep a low profile. You need to know how to move through a crowd, get in and out. And you need to keep collateral damage to a zero, or the gangs will use you like they have others who had your purpose and were less careful to justify their 'protection' continuing. If you march in there and kill 50 slavers, if you kill a few slaves or a single bystander in the process, your credibility will be smeared. And frankly, with me on your team, you won't get blown up by an IED when you try clearing your first room in a fortress."
"IED?" One of them asked, while the rest digested her statement, going through various levels of offended looks.
"Your translator is too cheap. Improvised explosive device. Here, that can be old engines, reused oil, cracked plastic, frictional fuel bombs, circuit extruders, sodium splash grenades, as well as the more military style attacks they can pack, from small micro rockets all the way up to lower level fission or fusion bombs. Though if you're in a fight with those things involved, you're already dead."
"Why?"
"Because unless you're Elders, or holograms, a nuke will kill you whether you're right next to it or just inside the same shield. They concentrate the thermal pulse, so your bones would be ash before the pain hit your eyes."
"And what protection could you bring against that?"
"Telling you it's there before you start the attack. That is, if you listen to me. I value your lives over that of this android, but also I value Ezeonwha over all of you combined. I will not prevent him from doing this, but I will have you all know the risks involved."
"We are prepared, Phoebe. We have done much of the training you say, though we do not believe the gangs would plant explosive devices in their own fortresses. There is too much risk around that, with betrayals so common. However, the minefields we have scouted are easy to defeat with the right tactics. Perhaps you can give us a briefing on those, too?"
A challenge.
"I can, depending on how long you wish to do this for. But I have the stamina for either hours or weeks, depending on which you choose."
"What of your batteries?"
"They are of sufficient quality," Phoebe assured.
"I hope so."
Their tech guy nodded, more numbers flashing on his visor. Ezeonwha hoped he had a different way of display, like through an implant or something, for the missions in darker areas. The Underground was, by its name, not a place where much natural light was to be found. And the gangs controlled all the power systems in their territory. It was another part of the racket.
"Why aren't you guarding Penny?"
Phoebe's back straightened, a subconscious posture change to make her seem more confident. Ezeonwha caught the tactic for what it was, though without extensive knowledge of bipedal forms, it was less likely the surrounding Sprilnav knew it.
"Penny proved before a trillion eyes she's capable of fighting Elders, Progenitors, and a Dreadnaught Captain. Not to mention her immense power. I can shoot bullets, but she can literally snatch them out of the air and eat them. She has her own way of doing things, and it is a good way."
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Penny landed in the rubble and headed for the Vaquah with a trail of survivors behind her. Many of them, she could recognize the marks of slavery on, with numbers or brands on their skin or just the trauma crouching in their eyes dulled by the pain of a long life in a work camp. Penny went through the wreckage to the shield surrounding the rubble and the defining line between the rest of the city and the destruction. Several news drones flew above her.
More were arriving from various directions. The soft footsteps grew into a constant drumming sound, like a beating heart of doom. Penny marched with them, heading to the spaceport. A large medical operation there quickly rerouted many of its various branches to the most injured freed slaves.
Penny pressed her considerable psychic energy on the entire group, accelerating their healing, slowing bleeding, and generally repairing their bodies and cells from the trauma they'd suffered. But the cloud over their heads did not brighten. The atmosphere remained tense and mournful. Many of them had lost friends, family, and more. She had no right to ask them to feel any different.
She had freed them, that was all. They were not her servants. She was not their ruler.
Several of them came up to her, offering thanks in the small ways they could. Kind words. Attempts at hugs. Even offers of devout prayer and worship, which Penny respectfully declined. She knew, as did most of them, that veneration for her deeds was inevitable. She didn't want to be seen encouraging it at all, since this was a public place where many eyes were upon her.
She knew that it would be misconstrued as a threat if she did. Religions were some of the most major threats entrenched powers could face if not properly co-opted by the state to suit their needs. And here, the 'state' was a military dictatorship billions of years old, ripened with corruption, money, and the immortality of Elders sporting technology beyond any other in the galaxy.
The sky was blue with shields overhead. The Vaquah hung in the distance, its thrusters gently burning to keep it aloft. A trail of shuttles linked the massive ship with several spaceports, including this one. Penny watched the freed Sprilnav get on it one by one, promising themselves to a new life aboard her ship. Technically, they were citizens of the Autonomous Peoples' Stars.
That protection, Penny knew, was why the Vaquah and its innocent inhabitants were still intact. Elders already had hired mercenaries to attack it. They'd failed, thanks to Rimiaha and Penny, but also the defenses of Kashaunta's Grand Fleet when it was in higher orbit. Kashaunta, despite her willingness to use Penny as she would, also had a certain intelligence and empathy. It was highly selective, and only money and power seemed to flip that switch.
But Penny needed the Elder, and Kashaunta only had use for her as an asset. She palmed the new communicator Kashaunta had issued her after the last one's destruction. Kashaunta's hologram appeared. It looked around, noticing the news drones in the air.
"Not here."
"Where?"
"You will know."
In the mindscape, a Sprilnav appeared on Penny's layer. They felt odd to her, almost like the minds of certain humans high up in the hivemind's network. Penny greeted the Sprilnav warmly.
"Hello."
"Queen and Elder Kashaunta requests your presence on her flagship."
"Very well."
In reality, Penny looked around at the crowd. She waited until it dwindled to nothing, and then spoke.
"Displace."
Conceptual energy twisted, and she stood on Kashaunta's flagship, though nearer to the edge than she'd expected. The Elder was waiting for her in an outfit that looked much like pajamas, though they were under a few armor pieces that appeared anything but decorative. Now that Penny noticed it, it was the same sort of armor that Yasihaut had worn to their last encounter, which interfered with conceptual energy. The Sprilnav were highly advanced. She wondered just how far their technology could go. She'd heard mentions of some ships having artificial gravity, and of nanites and programmable matter. But nothing certain.
"Hmm," Kashaunta said, giving Penny a once over. "You have come back. Shall I assume you are still my ally?"
"Nervous, are we?"
"Nervous is what you should be, Penny. The Judgment is coming. Ten days. Indrafabar and Justicar will both be on the court as High Judges. That is not good for us at all. So I figured a bit of prudence was in order. I have thought long and hard about this, and with the great battles of our time so fast approaching, I figure it is time to mend our relationship before the chasm grows any wider."
Kashaunta motioned to a special looking sword sheath on her back. Slowly, she drew a sword. A Soul Blade. Penny began to draw up her armor.
"Oh, I am not wishing for a fight, Penny. I know the damage you could do, even in my sanctum in the sky. Tell me, do you know how Soul Blades are forged?"
"No."
"Good. And tell me, do you know why they draw so much power to swing, even for Elders and beings as capable as us?"
"I have a few theories."
"I am sure you do," Kashaunta said. "But here is the thing. Soul Blades are typically weapons assigned to highly promising Elders, or even Progenitors. Filnatra, undisputed sword master that she is, can wield them as easily as breathing. If I were to swing this blade, there would be no drawback. Why?"
"Because you own that Soul Blade."
"Because this Soul Blade is mine. It is not just something I own. I own around seven or so more Soul Blades, with some weapons nearing their quality lying in my various vaults even now. You did not detect them, because I willed that not to be. I need you to understand this, Penny. You have power. You have might. But you are not invincible. My Soul Blade, if it struck you, would not cutely separate Nilnacrawla or Cardinality from you. Nor would your speeding space entity be able to block this blade with his flesh. If this cut you, it would release unending agony upon you before you exploded in a burst of burnt gore."
Penny sighed. "There is no need to threaten me. Allies do not threaten each other."
"But you do not see me as an ally. You see me as your means to get through the Judgment. You believe I see you as nothing more but a linear singularity maker, and perhaps a passing curiosity I'm backing on a whim. You neglect to imagine that there might be firmer reasons why I back you, and why more Elders are getting drawn into this conflict. You believe I am comfortable with showing you my more pragmatic and ruthless sides because I am comfortable with the fact that you cannot harm me. That you would not dare to do so, when you need my assistance so badly. That I might even be aiming to normalize my 'new' self with you."
"That is hardly my belief alone."
"Is it now."
Kashaunta grinned. There was no warmth in her gaze.
"Nilnacrawla," Kashaunta said. "Cardinality. Exile. Come out and show yourselves. You are being rude as guests."
Exile detached from Penny's head. He grew into the shifting array of fractals and shapes she was more familiar with. What had once grated on her eyes did so no longer. Kashaunta stared at the speeding space entity for ten seconds, then looked back up at Penny.
"He will not work on us. I will cover his form with holograms if he walks through my ship out of courtesy for my workers and crew, if he cannot."
"I am capable, Queen Kashaunta."
"You are quite knowledgable, aren't you?" Kashaunta mused, looking at him hungrily. "Oh, how I wonder what secrets you have in your head. How many of ours do you know?"
"I will not be taken as a hostage," Exile said.
"You will not because I decide not to," Kashaunta said. "Formally, our species are still at war. There is no treaty."
"The Sp'rkial'nova no longer exist."
"Yes, they do," Kashaunta said. "The name was discontinued for use regarding the lesser specimens we created. But I can assure you, Exile, if you wish to go by that name here, that we still do exist. I am a Sp'rkial'nova in the flesh. In the blood. In the mind. In the soul."
"Say what you will, Sprilnav. It changes nothing."
"On that I agree. Though our views on how things are may differ, and yours is wrong, your opinion is not valuable enough to matter."
She turned to Penny. She would have defended Exile, but he gave her a simple shake of his head area.
Nilnacrawla formed out of psychic energy in front of Penny. Cardi did the same beside her. Kashaunta tapped a claw on the ground. Tables and chairs appeared. A chef brought in food that looked passable and a few decent attempts at human cuisine.
"We do not have to eat, though I would expect that all of you at least sit at the table. We will discuss our grievances, and how to solve them before we proceed with the future. We shall first go to the matter of the Alliance. Penny, many in their number wish to establish contact with you. Do you agree to this? If so, I will add their communicator numbers to the translation program I have reserved for your personal use, in case your own device needs another sudden replacement."
"I agree."
"Good. A first step of diplomacy, I would say. Agreement. Now, Nilnacrawla, you look like you have something to say to me. What is it?"
"Free Meridia."
"Meridia was detonated by planet cracker during the 139th Sector 9 Border War. I am sorry more could not be done."
A cold draft of air rushed out of Nilnacrawla's nose. He glared at her. "You let them die."
"I did not. A Grand Fleet was defending that star system, and three came to lay siege. I am many things. A tactician, a queen, an Elder. But I am not a god. I cannot perform miracles. I evacuated 30 billion people from that world and its surrounding stations before the planet crackers hit it. 4 trillion more souls died in that blast. The best I can do is to offer an apology."
"That will never be enough for what you did. If you had never established your nation, they would still be alive."
"They would be slaves. Chattel slaves, not that cute little 'wage slavery' concept privileged people throw around. Perhaps I should remind you just how much darker that reality would have been for your female descendents, specifically. I am a brutal warlord, a dictator with an iron fist. But my claws do not squeeze nearly as tightly as I could. Metrics say that I could extract at least 370% more profit from my people if I simply enslaved them. But despite the shock this may bring to you all, I do have principles. The Autonomous Peoples' Stars are my people. My nation. My empire, if you think I'm imperialist. But I protect them as best I can."
Nilnacrawla's cold anger didn't lessen. Penny placed a calming hand on his front left thigh. He blinked. He let out a long, pained sigh. And he bowed his head to her. Not to Kashaunta, but to Penny.
"There is no need to be cruel."
"My language was accurate, Penny. He is a strong Elder. Everlasting knows he's stronger than most of these fools. Nilnacrawla was and is a hero of the Source war. I respect him enough not to mince words, or to give platitudes. Coddling is for babies. Nilnacrawla is far more mature."
Kashaunta turned to Cardi. "You have been remarkably silent in this, concept."
"I have."
"A wonderfully succinct statement. Perhaps you can shorten it further. But nevertheless, you and I will be working together with Penny much more in the near future. Rest assured, if you refuse to become more independent, you will be nothing more than a crutch for her to rely on before leaving her to fall when you are ripped away."
"When, Elder? I would like to think your protection is sufficient."
"I am sure the truth is quite the opposite, dear. I will now get to the point. Penny needs to move faster, and needs to break out of her shell. She needs to be pushed to do more. She has signed a binding treaty, which shows she is capable of more than barbarian aliens, as some Elders would call her. You, Cardinality, will help her be a high achiever. To do this, you need to learn more about your own history.
That is the theme of the year, after all. History. My history, Penny's history, Sprilnav history, and even Gaia's history, it would seem."
"Gaia? What do they have to do with all of this?" Penny asked.
"Oh, you don't need to worry about that."
"Excuse me? You don't get to decide that, Kashaunta. You will tell me. I refuse to be coddled, like you say. I demand the respect I am owed."
"You forget yourself, Penny."
"I remember myself, actually. I am all I need to be. I can become all I need if I must. You can hold your backing against me all you want, but you won't withdraw it. As you said, more binds you and I than mere money and ideology."
"And if you're wrong?"
"Then I've doomed my species and my nation to war, and this planet to the full power of my wrath."
"Wrath, Penny. Wrath. The Sprilnav have many words for anger, rage, hatred. There is the desire for vengeance, in varying degrees. There is that for justice, which does differ. And that for belonging. I know you believe you are standing up to me as a way to assert your own authority in this relationship of ours. You believe I see you as inferior, and will pull back my help when it is profitable for me. I will not offer you the consequences of what your words could mean.
You already know them, and that argument is as stale as your view on us Elders. I will say this once, Penny. You are the Champion of Humanity. The apex predator of your planet, the only one mostly in charge of an Alliance that does more than merely dream of overthrowing us. It is easy for me to say you are not a threat, though I do not ignore the threat you and your nation are trying to become. Gaia will be a part of your movement, but even my information is not entirely complete. I will not mislead you by claiming I know Gaia's link to this, just that there likely is one.
And I am not unreasonably petty. I am willing to put all our animosity behind us and start anew. Even if you are not willing to do the same, I am willing to make this work for us. You have more people to care for than just the Alliance, now. Do not forget them."
"A lot of words that mean nothing."
"Because you heard, but did not listen. Perhaps it will be easier this way, Penny. I want you to win."
"Explain."
"You wish to overthrow the current Sprilnav led order of the galaxy. Your path to that will likely be through mass slave revolt. A viable strategy that I could spread far beyond just this planet. And I actually agree with you. This Judgment, this utter insanity around the Alliance and your species has shown me the truth. The Elders as a class and a species cannot be trusted to rule any longer. We need new leaders. Better leaders."
"And yourself?"
"As the hypocrite that I am, and the power-hungry ruler of the Sprilnav, I would obviously exclude myself from that number. Let's be realistic. The Sprilnav will never accept a non-Elder ruler. If you wish to see what our insurgencies would be like, imagine the 2090s Struggles of Asia. Expand that to billions of planets, large and small. Countless ships and space stations. We have more collective ships than you have people. And as your military planners know, there is no such thing as an unarmed ship. Without us, without me, your plans are stillborn. Your galactic Alliance or whatever you make will fall to pieces without proper counseling. In essence, my offer to you, and you alone, is this. The galaxy, for the Sprilnav."
"Who backs your offer, with the power to give it?"
Progenitors Lecalicus and Nova appeared in the room.
"I back Kashaunta," Lecalicus wheezed.
"I observe her offer, and wish it a proper outcome," Nova said.
"Thank you, esteemed Progenitors," Kashaunta said, standing just to bow to them. Penny stared at Nova, balling her fists.
"There will be time for battle later," he said. "But not now. Hear out her request. She does not make it lightly."
The Progenitors disappeared.
"If I accept your offer, it will be on a written record."
"No. It will not be, because if that record is written, my nation will be facing war on all sides. A better idea would be for us to keep this under wraps."
"Perfect for betrayal," Nilnacrawla muttered.
"It would be, yes. But consider the second part of this situation, Nilncrawla. If word of this galactic offer, not just the Pact, were to get out, which is why two Progenitors who know the price of interference were called here, it would mean the deaths of Penny and all her kind. Or do you forget what rapidly approaches us?"
Nilnacrawla frowned. "I did. I apologize, Penny."
Kashaunta spoke up again.
"Penny. You believe I will betray you. So I make an offer of collateral. An offer so unbelievably sacred for us Elders that many would recoil at the mere thought of it. Now that you have signed a backed treaty, you are fully qualified."
Kashaunta grabbed her Soul Blade and presented it to Penny.
"What does this mean?"
"Nilnacrawla, tell her," Kashaunta said. "She will trust your mouth more than mine."
"Bonded Soul Blades are priceless artifacts," Nilnacrawla said. "To offer one to another is the ultimate gesture of trust and respect among many martial Sprilnav cultures. It can also allow for a mind bridge, a soul pact, or a proposal for marriage between two great houses, martial families, or Elders of great wealth and power. To offer this to a human... to anyone... is an ultimate sign of backing, and one of trust.
It is a sacrosanct honor, the absolute agreement of speaking truth and respect. The words I can use in any human language are insufficient to describe the weight of this honor. This gesture is one of absolute truth. Family lines with hatred going back millions of years would never dare to violate this honor."
"Only one Elder in history did so, one who once led a group known as the Stannic Resistance. He does so no longer. Penny Balica, Champion of Humanity... if there is nothing else I can give you to prove that I do really back you, there is this."
"...Just how low are my chances in the Judgment for you to resort to this?" Penny asked.
"They are not zero, but your battle with be incredibly difficult even with this boon of mine. The future of the galaxy, I now realize, hinges on the outcome of this. If we do not have enough trust, they will sniff it out, and we will fail."
So she had no choice. But as Nilncrawla continued to explain in her mind, Kashaunta was getting the worse side of the deal. Which meant she was throwing her backing behind Penny for real, beyond all reproach and retraction. Kashaunta, the most powerful Elder in the galaxy.
"And if I reject this gift, or your reasons for it?"
"Circumstances would demand that I kill you and then myself using this blade as a way to cut apart the dishonor, before my remains are dumped into a black hole to be forgotten forever. I would not do this."
"A dark and archaic custom," Penny said. She would have said more, but she looked at Nilnacrawla's face. He was clearly deeply uncomfortable. Her five words had shaken him more than anything she'd ever said to him before.
"You do not understand," Nilnacrawla said. "This is not something to joke or lie about. With a Soul Blade Pact in play, all else must cease. Right now, there is you, and there is her. Accept or decline. The choice, your only choice, is yours."
"How will this look to the Elders in the court? To the Sprilnav, and the people who back me?"
She could see how it would be a boon and a curse.
"You, and I," Kashaunta said. "The whole of the universe between us right now is you and I. No others exist until this one act is done. There will be trust or there will be death. No in between. No middle ground. The nature of this bond will be a Pact of Blades."
Conceptual energy swirled between them. Penny's natural translation, as part of the hivemind, failed for the first time ever. Her communicator likewise did not translate the words Kashaunta spoke.
"Eis nama kaste Penny Balica, sun lanci Dorima Kashaunta. Ko'ri, lanci nupa bes na Dorima'Pecunyanova. Sp'rkial'nova. Sun. Homo Sapiens."
The air grew thick with tension. It was not just emotional, either. Psychic and conceptual energy gathered. The mindscape started to distort as more and more eyes began to view Kashaunta and Penny. But all of them were Sprilnav eyes. All of them were Progenitors. Nova's appeared brightest and largest, nearly six times the size of the next largest pair. They stared at her, sending psychic and conceptual energy down upon her in waves that forced her and Kashaunta to kneel to the ground.
"I apologize for my earlier words," Penny said. "I should not have denigrated this."
Penny stood for an hour, deeply contemplating the Pact. If it was as Nilnacrawla was describing to her, it was a promise that Kashaunta would not break. If she was offering it at all, especially to Penny, it meant she had a level of trust in Penny's capability far above what Penny had previously thought. Apparently, there were even higher agreements than this that were possible, with this Pact being the lowest level of bond and considered unbreakable with the enforcement of consequences coming from the Progenitors themselves.
She thought of her place in Justicar and the wider universe. Hours passed like water. And then, by the end of it, after nearly 19 hours, Penny finally had decided. She gave a short nod to Kashaunta, who had been kneeling to Nova all this time.
Kashaunta gestured at the sword. "Tol, nopa shikai."
Nilnacrawla fed her a few suggestions on what she would need to say.
"I come to this Pact seeking peace, justice, and hope," Penny said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery."
Nilnacrawla translated Kashaunta's next words to her.
"I come to this seeking trust, understanding, respect, and peace," Kashaunta said. "And a promise not to betray one another, by lies or by treachery. I make this Pact before the gods, those who equal them, and those who surpass them. I bind them to an oath of silence regarding this event, until I directly instruct them otherwise, in a state of a sound mind, body, and soul. Here, we shall step into a future that needs both of us, casting aside that which is unimportant to focus on the ultimate goals we have. I offer my Blade to Penny Balica, of species Homo Sapiens. In this way, we forge a new future, and walk a new path. I accept the Pact."
"I accept the Pact."
Nova and a hundred Progenitors descended. Nova grew larger, and Kashaunta knelt to him. Penny remained standing. His sharp teeth glittered in the light. He pressed his claws to Penny's chest, and to Kashaunta's chest.
"The Pact of Blades is made before the Progenitors. We agree to your vow of silence. The penalty of breaking it will be dismemberment and disposal into a black hole. Penny Balica, Engineer Kashaunta. To break this Pact without mutual agreement is to call down our collective wrath upon yourselves. You both have agreed, and are of sound mind, body, and soul. The Pact is forged. By sword, by word, by action. I, Nova, Everlasting, Lord of the Progenitors, King of all Sp'rkial'nova, Heir to the Mantle of Power, Heir to Narvravarana, Progenitor, Elder, and Sprilnav, declare the deed done, etched in time, space, and Reality."
They winked out of existence one by one, leaving Penny and Kashaunta alone, to ponder the future. Penny's thoughts turned to the Judgment, and her confidence she could win it began to waver. How much worse was this Judgment going to be than before?
Penny stared at Kashaunta's Soul Blade. With careful fingers, she took it. Kashaunta sat up, satisfied.
"Now we can begin. I shall compile all the news about you I can find, and we shall see how to address the questions the High Judges will ask. Now that you trust me, I cannot betray you."
submitted by Storms_Wrath to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 04:47 JustKneller Epilogues for every BG NPC

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


2024.05.15 03:16 planettxri haunted house

ok so this happened when i was about 6 or 7 (im 18 now) but me, my mom and my 2 brothers moved into this house which was in the middle of nowhere basically. there was one house which was about a 2 minute walk from ours and a petrol/gas station 5 minutes away. this was a nice house for the area but smt seemed off from the beginning. there was a little garage beside the house which came as part of the property which inside had an empty coffin and crosses all over the walls. weird but yk could have been for a movie or for halloween or smt. straight away there was strange things happening. everyday we would wake up and all the drawers in the kitchen would be open (this also included oven, fridge and microwave) maybe it was me or my brothers sleep walking? i had a few times i would sleep walk when i was 4 and 5 but i wouldn’t open anything. weird. things started going missing when we first moved in but would be found in weird places, shower, inside the oven, inside the fridge, all harmless stuff. once my brother (he was 13/14) at the time, was home alone because he was sick, he was playing some games on his playstation but he got hungry, he left his controller on his bed and went to the kitchen to get food, he came back and his controller was gone, maybe he brought it to the kitchen with him and didn’t realise? no, wasn’t there, he started checking all the rooms and couldn’t find it, then he started looking again and went into one of the spare bedrooms (my granny and grandad used it whenever they would visit and they weren’t there at the time so no one would go in there) and the controller was placed on the middle of the floor. he was hella creeped out and called my mom to come home lol. the first night we moved into the house i started crying and screaming in my sleep which has never happened before. i kept crying about the man in my window so for a few nights i slept with my mom but then i was back in my room but with the door open and light on. i would always talk about a man around the property but there was never actually anyone there. my granny one day walked into the living room (which had a rocking chair from the previous owners) and asked my mom who the man in the chair was (my granny doesn’t speak any english so she could ask in polish) my mom had no idea what she was talking about since there was no man there. me and my granny talked about the same man because we would describe him the same, he had a cowboy hat, jeans and a red shirt (kind of like a cowboy tbh). me and my whole family were always scared since after a few weeks we would wake up with scratches on our bodies (i would have them the worst) so whenever we were all home we would spend our time in the living room together bc we were scared. one day my mom was still awake watching tv in her room and she went to the bathroom and when she walked out (she was half asleep) and saw a child and she just said go back to sleep. she went to sleep and didn’t think of it until the next morning. she was a child which could have been me but no. it was a boy. maybe my brothers? they were teenagers and were tall. this child was my height but a boy and im a girl. we still have no idea who this child or man were. anyways we only lived there for 4 months lol there’s many more stories but it’s 2am and im tired!!
submitted by planettxri to scarystories [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 03:11 TheStringedMaiden Chapter one: The Wool and Wood

Chapter one: The Wool and Wood
It took days to reach the Coral Fields mentioned in the notebook retrieved from the archives. Days more to navigate the maze-like environment to find the cottage there within. Despite this, hardly a word was spoken between any members of The Scout Regiment. Not even any small-talk when they took time to camp for the night. The air was thick and heavy, cold. The party was tense the entire time.
Imvaernarhro most of all was a nervous wreck. Barely able to sleep, he often offered to take watch during the night. That scene of Kyoko playing in his mind over and over again, the image of her twisted and mangled body, strings burrowing into her, he couldn't help but feel responsible, the guilt almost unbearable.
Zepheree would spend most of her waking hours wandering and picking up plants, and would occasionally have to be carried by the drow for a few hours at a time while passed out. Every once in a while, she would pull out a small camera to check for things it can see that she can't herself.
When the party finally arrived at the cottage, it was quite the strange sight. Certainly nothing like what they expected. Instead of a dilapidated building, rotting and falling to pieces, there stood a lovely cottage made of logs and stone. Not even a shingle on the roof was out of place, the building was absolutely pristine. To the side was a large garden, beautifully vibrant and filled with flowers. Though, curiously, the flowers all seemed to be made of wool. It also seems that the coral turns to cardboard the closer it gets to the cottage, going outwards in a perfect circle.
A small humanoid puppet holding a wooden watering can suddenly stepped out of a tiny shed attached to the cottage, and walked over to the flowers, though it looked more like it was gliding across the ground. They stopped at the plants, and bent over as if they were watering the tulips. Atop the cottage the party could also spot an owl, again made of wood. Its head followed their every move as they crept closer to the odd scene before them.
The drow almost scoffs, soon speaking, "lovely. But it's lying to us."
Imvaernarhro waits with as much patience as his nerves would let him.
Through the lens of Zepheree’s camera, everything would appear the same. Perfectly in order. The flowers, the cottage, nothing seems out of the ordinary... Aside from how this entire scene is out of the ordinary.
The Drow speaks again "nothing unusual? Alright. My turn..."
The Drow turns invisible and slowly approaches the cottage. Her skin crawls a bit at the scene but her mind turns cold as she focuses on the mission.
The owl puppet turns away from her as she becomes invisible, looking back at the rest of the party. The other puppet in the garden is busy tending to the flowers still. As Drow slowly steps closer to the cottage, she'd feel a wave of energy flow through her body. At the same time, another puppet would open the front door to the cottage, and step outside to enjoy a cup of tea on the patio.
In that moment, as Aico peers through the lens of the camera to keep track of Drow, she would vanish from sight.
Aico stares in disbelief as the drow just up and vanishes while walking towards the house. Are her eyes failing her? Did she teleport away?
Imvaernarhro watches the scene unfold, letting the others take over. He shifts into his human form
The drow casts soul-shadow over herself, giving her additional protection. She continues walking slowly around the cottage giving a curious glance to the puppets. She searches for entrances, exits, magic, anything of note. she makes a full mental map of the exterior before approaching any doors
The drow notes the tiny shed attached to the cottage, too small for her or any of her companions to fit through, and leading seemingly nowhere anyway. She spots the front door, as well as two windows on the front, one window on the left side, nothing on the right, and behind the cottage is a back door with another set of windows. The cottage is one story tall, though there does appear to be a small window above the back door, in what appears to be an attic. She also finds a cellar door behind the cottage, though it is sternly locked.
The Drow's curiosity is peaked at the sight of the strange tiny shed. She telepathically relays what she sees to the rest of the party and approaches the tiny shed [Hmm... Other than the puppets this portion seems clear of immediate danger. I'm curious about this tiny shed though...]
Peering into the shed she can see various tools, all miniaturized and made of wood. There does not appear to be any opening in the shed other than the one she's looking through. Just then the puppet in the garden glides back to the shed, nearly bumping into the drow as it glides into the shed. The door then closes behind it without being manually touched.
The drow moves to the cellar door next and observes it for magic before ejecting lockpicks from her prosthetic and trying them on the lock. The door does not seem to be magically sealed in any way. The lock is also rudimentary and easily unlocks.
Zepheree begins getting curious as she looks towards the cottage, scooping up a small shiny rock from a small pile of shiny rocks, also noting some small weeds and plants in the ground since she is getting a close look she then throws the rock towards the cottage to see what happens.
The shiny rocks appear to be polished marbles like a child would play with, and the plants are made from yarn and pipe-cleaners. Throwing the small marble towards the cottage, it appears to harmlessly land at the foot of the steps leading up to the front door. The puppet outside notices this, and is now staring at Zepheree. Zepheree is immediately off-put by the oddly heavy trajectory of the rock, despite how much force she put into it
As Zepheree begins trying to figure out how that could happen, the group receives another telekinetic relay from The Drow [ I found a way down guys... We can check the inside if you like, but I have a feeling what we're looking for is down here... Aico, inferno, Jeremy. Are you all ready?] and with that, the group slowly walks down the stairs of the cellar
In this dusty basement lies variable knick knacks, miscellaneous bits, nothing really of note. There is a box that contains sewing supplies and another with various wood carvings in it, but both are covered in the same amount of dust as everything else. It seems this place has long since been abandoned. But if that were the case, then why was it immaculate from the outside?
When the drow approaches the table set out in the basement, she sees a familiar face. That of her friend, Kyoko, sitting at the table, along with two empty seats. A permanent grin stretches across Kyoko visage. The scene appears to be that of a tea party. However, with the table not quite set, the chairs old and dusty, it appears as though this scene isn't fully realized yet.
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!” A rare scream of terror from The Drow
“Ky-ky-kyoko???”
submitted by TheStringedMaiden to wizardposting [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 03:03 LiquidPony Is it just me, or does Mick Foley seem like a genuinely good guy?

I’ve been watching a lot of Dark Side of the Ring recently, and noticed one guy they keep going back to as an interview besides Jericho, is Mick Foley. Which has made me realize his career was a lot more prolific than I thought it was previous to the WWF with Smokey Mountain Wrestling, ECW, and WCW(most of which happened before I was born).
This also made me realize that most wrestlers have some immoral, at least rumor, outside the ring or backstage which could allow you to question their morals, but not Foley from what I can find.
So am I missing something? Really the only backstage events I’ve heard involving him is The Rock conceding he hit him with too many chair shots, and his delirium after his cell match with the Undertaker.
Edit: Okay I get it, Foley is god, and good. In all seriousness, I knew he had a a good reputation. I just found it hard to believe there was no scandal involving him when you consider the era he came up in and compare against his peers in the industry. I came to you guys for verification, and you did not disappoint. I love you IWC.
submitted by LiquidPony to SquaredCircle [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 02:30 graywolt Total Flipped World Tour - Niagara Brawls

https://preview.redd.it/4xrzwkgrih0d1.png?width=1292&format=png&auto=webp&s=27e7572a064e0ac1bde57fd9425d373cd0f4ec32
Cameron is back in the game in a 6-1-1 vote, and Scott and Anne Maria have gained immunity in a 7-5-2-1-1 vote.
Blaineley announces that Cameron has won the second chance challenge and is now back in the game. Cameron is incredulous, and Beardo, Ella, & Harold cheer for him, and Blaineley asks if she will get her money. Geoff laughs & says that they just barely went over time, which very much pisses off Blaineley, causing her to charge at Geoff. Security comes & captures her, and Geoff says that the next Aftermath will be at the secret finale location. As Blaineley is getting dragged away by security, Geoff signs off the episode, saying that he’ll see everyone next time.
Niagara Brawls
The episode opens with the Max clone scurrying around, playing with a sharp rock, and subsequently hiding when he sees the interns dragging the contestants to the cargo hold. The scene then cuts to a sleeping Max, who is having a dream about inventing things with Owen & Izzy. Scott, Sugar, & Topher then show up on hoverboards, destroying their work with lightning bolts. Max is thrown in the air, subsequently waking up & realizing that he and the other contestants have been thrown out of the plane.
Max promptly screams, waking everyone else up. While falling, two swan pedal boats are also falling with them. The contestants cling onto the boats as they fall and land in the water, making Anne Maria yell at Chris, as Staci shouts “Water!” This annoys Scott, but he & everyone else then see that they’re all heading toward a massive waterfall. Sugar laments about how she can’t win any more pageants when she dies, Dawn wishes her families good will, & Topher says that he fully doesn’t like Chris now. With Zoey though, she has turned into Commando Zoey, and uses her strength to throw Sugar into the other boat as an anchor, before furiously paddling both boats to safety. On the shore, Anne Maria compliments Zoey’s quick thinking & skills, and Scott is thinking. In the confessional, Scott says that Zoey must go ASAP, as she seems to be a big physical threat.
On shore, Chris reveals their location by telling the contestants that Niagara Falls is awesome, explaining that it is the jewel in Canada's crown and one of the top ten natural wonders in the world, also known for its fabulous casino, the place where they will head for the next part of the challenge, only to find themselves in the concert theater because all of them are underage. Topher asks if anyone will perform here, and Chris says that it’ll happen, as the last Aftermath episode has returned a contestant back to the game. Scott & Sugar are praying that it’s Sierra who returns, Max & Staci want Owen & Sadie respectively, and Chris then announces that it’s in fact Cameron who’s back in the game. Dawn is belated about this, and Cameron sings a song about Dawn & his friends, which is positively met.
Cameron asks Chris which team he’s on, and that he hopes it to be Team Amazon. Chris says that as of now it’s every man, woman, & Cameron for themselves, due to the teams being disbanded. Besides Scott, Sugar, & Topher, everyone is happy about this and is leering angrily at the villains. In the confessional, Sugar asks why everyone else is acting like they’re all friends, as this is Total Drama, not Total Friendship. With Zoey, she’s saying that she is excited at the chance of eliminating Scott or Sugar
Chris then announces that, since they are in the honeymoon capital of the world, they will be in pairs for "arranged marriages." The boys are placed in a giant casino machine, while the girls will pull the lever to see who their husband will be to team up for today's challenge and for Chris' own amusement, adding Bacon the bear in the slot machine, too.
Dawn pulls first, getting Scott, to which she slams the door on, crushing Scott’s arm. Dawn says that she’d prefer Bacon to Scott, making Chris give Bacon to Dawn. Sugar pulls next, getting Topher. Topher looks mostly indifferent to this, and Sugar suggests sabotaging everyone to gain victory, which Topher agrees with. Topher then asks what they should do with Scott, and Sugar says to treat him just like the others, as Sugar is in grave danger of being kicked if she loses.
Zoey pulls, hoping it’s not Scott, and gets Cameron. When Cameron sees this, he says that while he would rather have Dawn, Zoey is cool. Staci gets Max and they fist-bump, and this leaves Anne Maria with Scott, much to their dismay.
In part one of the challenge, the grooms must guide their blindfolded brides to a wedding dress while avoiding several obstacles in the first part of the competition, and if they don't get a dress, they can't move on to the next challenge. Topher tells Sugar not to worry about this, as he is amazing at this. Scott initially messes with Anne Maria, sending her into a pool of pudding, and Anne Maria says that he better stop it, unless he wants to be eliminated.
With Sugar & Topher, Sugar has found the first dress. Sugar suggests sabotaging the other teams, so they can automatically get immunity, which Topher agrees with. Staci & Max are trying to get to a dress, and Max is constantly changing his instructions, as Topher ais moving stuff around to confuse them. Cameron is guiding Zoey when Sugar steals his glasses, which causes him to accidentally send Zoey into a giant cake. Zoey groans at this and asks Cameron what happened. Cameron apologizes and says that it happened because Sugar stole his glasses, which Zoey forcibly takes back.
With Dawn & Bacon, the bear has successfully taken Dawn to the wedding dresses, clinching Dawn’s spot in the next challenge. Scott gets Anne Maria to the wedding dresses successfully, and so does Cameron with Zoey. As Chris says that the first challenge is over, Staci is able to get her wedding dress, annoying Topher & Sugar.
For the second part of the challenge, Chris explains that the grooms must hold their brides on a tightrope as they walk through Niagara Falls — which is packed with hungry sharks below because Chris thought they weren't quite unpleasant enough — and then they must successfully clear customs, saying that the first pair to do so wins invincibility. The mere idea of sharks is making Scott quiver, along with Max & Topher as well. As Sugar & Topher got to the dresses first, they get a head start. As they go by, Sugar trips Zoey for no apparent reason. Topher asks why, and Sugar says that she’s simply trying to get a rise out of Zoey.
Up next is Staci & Max, and the latter is staring at the falls below. Staci asks if he’s alright, and Max says that he feels psyched out by the challenge, as it seems really easy to fall to your death with one misstep. He then regains his breath and Staci starts to carry him on the rope.
Back with Topher & Sugar, Sugar tells Topher to hold on tight. Topher asks what this means, and Sugar slightly shakes the rope from side-to-side, making Staci & Max fall off. Cameron is bewildered by this, as they were just walking fine before. Zoey & Cameron get onto the tightrope next, speeding after the villains while being very wary of the looming threat of the falls.
Dawn & Bacon are next, with the Bear upright, carrying Dawn in her arms. Chris is surprised that anyone could actually find a grizzly bear that would be a good teammate. Bacon walks onto the tightrope, which causes a significant dip that nearly knocks off Scott, Sugar, Cameron, and Dawn. Zoey angrily asks who did this, and Cameron tells her to calm down, as it was just Dawn & the bear, which makes Zoey feel sheepish.
At the front, Sugar & Topher are discussing how they should sabotage everybody else once again when they reach customs. Chef starts to ask the duo some questions, and they are turned back when Chef asks them in which state is it illegal to have a donkey sleep in your bathtub after 7 P.M. Sugar said Texas, but the answer was Oklahoma.
Zoey & Cameron run into Sugar & Topher, and neither side is willing to move. In a bout of anger, Zoey violently shakes the rope, sending Dawn, the bear, Cameron, Topher, & Sugar into the falls. Zoey is mortified at what she has done, and dives in as well, looking for Cameron & Dawn. Scott & Anne Maria are the last ones standing, and carefully cross the rope to customs, where they answer all the questions correctly. Chef asks if they have anything else to say, and Anne Maria says that she’s just glad to be done with the challenge. The contestants in the water are now thankfully in a motorboat that is being driven by the interns, as Chris begrudgingly realizes that the contestants can't die.
Vote anyone sans Scott or Anne Maria, vote somebody for immunity, and feel free to come up with any plot points!
submitted by graywolt to Totaldrama [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 02:26 MJL1016 Repurchased a Haworth Fern without the lumbar! 👏

Repurchased a Haworth Fern without the lumbar! 👏
I ordered a Fern a couple years ago with the lumbar and to my disappointment, the added lumbar cushion was like a rock, and very uncomfortable. Ended up selling it.
2 years later I’m still struggling so I bit the bullet and bought another one without the lumbar.
Extremely comfortable! Tomorrow will be my first full day with it, so I’ll report back.
One thing I noticed between the one I ordered a couple years ago versus the one I just ordered now is the material of the cloth on the seat. I remember on the one I ordered a couple of years ago. The material was more of like a thick canvas type of cloth. The material on there is more like a standard office chair fabric. It’s still comfortable and I’m not complaining, but I did like the material on the first one as long as my back doesn’t hurt!
submitted by MJL1016 to OfficeChairs [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:42 mystery_revealed [TOMT][MOVIE][1970s - 1980s] Please help me find a movie from the 1970s-1980s that ends with Dudley Moore accidentally hanging himself.

I remember seeing a movie as a kid back in the late 80s where the final scene is, I believe, British actor Dudley Moore accidentally hanging himself. From what I remember, he's in his house with a noose around his neck standing on a chair reading either the suicide note or letter he means to send to, I think, some woman that he's in love with. As he's reading it he reconsiders suicide but his dog runs into the room and knocks over the chair and the last shot is either the chair knocked over or a shot of his legs swinging.
This is what I remember, the details could be off. And, in particular, since I've gone through Dudley Moore's entire filmography on wikipedia and didn't find any movie that mentioned any of that I may have the actor wrong too. But I'm pretty sure it's Dudley Moore.
Thanks.
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2024.05.15 01:38 Holidae- The Oxman Hotel

Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at putting this story, or any story, to words. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
When I entered the hotel where my wife was last seen, nothing seemed out of place at first. Children ran through the lobby, bellboys escorted new arrivals while pushing luggage trolleys, and a small line was gathered at the front desk. It seemed like any busy hotel would over summer vacation - full of life and warm, humid air from the continuously opening front doors. The hotel, named ‘The Oxman,’ was located near the southwestern national parks of the United States. School had ended and families now flocked here for reservations booked months in advance. There were also many young people in search of adventure in the desert.
My wife had been one such adventurer. We were part of a rock climbing club that planned a trip to the area to explore some popular climbs in the canyons. I had been unable to join due to work, so she joined in the group’s rental van while I stayed behind. I was going to join once the work week was over, otherwise she would have bunked with one of the single girls. Only she never met the group in the lobby the next morning and after the police came, the rest of the trip was called off.
That was three days ago. The police searched her room and found all of her belongings gone. The investigation has continued, but the hotel hasn’t provided any further information, and with a packed suitcase gone with her the police thought she had chosen to disappear. So I came here myself, knowing I wouldn’t find anything the police had missed, but not knowing what else to do.
It was strange to see the normalcy around me in the lobby. My life was shattered by events that happened here just this week, and yet everyone else continued with their own lives. But as I joined the line at the front desk, I started noticing small ways in which things weren’t right. At first I noticed that as I passed people, no one so much as glanced at me. I wasn’t expecting anyone to outright stare, but not a single person looked in my direction as I passed them. Then I noticed the way they all smiled, their faces strained in looks of delight. Even those just sitting alone in the plush lobby chairs grinned relentlessly. I started to make my way towards an elderly man just sitting there and smiling, to ask him anything that would get him to interact with me, when the concierge behind the desk called to me. I had already made it to the front of the line.
“Good morning, sir, and welcome to the Oxman. How can I help you?”
The young man smiled as did everyone else, but at least he looked at me. His eyes told a different story than the others’.
“Hi, I’d like a room just for the night.”
“Of course sir, just a single bed?” He started typing quickly on the computer in front of him.
“I’m surprised you have availability during such a busy time of year,” I said, “My friends stayed here recently and booked their rooms months in advance.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “We had a cancellation this morning! It’s your lucky day, sir.” He looked up from his computer. “Surely you didn’t come here not expecting to get a room?” He was right - the question made me look like the strange one. “I started to lose hope when I saw how busy the lobby was.” But as I turned to gesture towards the people around us, I suddenly realized they were all gone. It was a moment before the shock wore off and I gathered myself, in which time the concierge spoke again.
“Traffic ebbs and flows!” He proclaimed cheerily. “Once I see your license and put a card on file, I’ll be happy to take you to your room sir.”Goosebumps pricked my skin as uneasiness washed over me. Something was clearly off about this place. But I couldn’t turn back now. I didn’t know where else to look for her and felt the need to see this through. I passed him my information and received a traditional key on a ring.
“I see you didn’t bring any luggage. I trust you can escort yourself to your room, Mr. Flinton?”My eyes were back on the lobby as he spoke, searching for any sign of the life that was just here. “That’s fine. Thank you for your help.” I took my key and read the tag. Room 716. I made my way towards the elevator as the concierge called after me.
“Thank you for your business, Mr. Flinton! We hope you enjoy your stay at The Oxman!”I didn’t turn back as I pressed the elevator button. Hopefully my room wouldn’t be this unsettling. And hopefully, through some miracle, I would find a sign of my wife. As I turned and pressed the button for floor 7, the second highest floor, I looked into the lobby one more time while the doors closed. Now the concierge had vanished as well.
submitted by Holidae- to stories [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:35 D0WNGR4D3 Beast World #62: Rough Trails & Rougher Trials

Michael stepped through the dark woods at a slightly above leisure pace. The first rays of the dawn's light haven't yet penetrated the ironclad cover of the forest's canopy. Its thickness held together the shroud of darkness below, only small shreds of it peaking through rarely. Although he knew he walked a familiar path, the reduced visibility made the walk nearly alien, with a stumble here and a trip there, an uncertainty started to seep into Michael's chest even if he didn't know it.
'Alright. It is going to take a bit to get there, but I'll be making it in time. So... daeman. Based on what I know they are just basically pink demons. Ok, ok, ok... I've done this until now on a dime... I just... phew... just gotta do my character research. Yeah... just like theater. Literally it is just theatrics. So... what's a demon? Well if years of playing dnd thought me anything is that they are either feral, unhinged and nuts OR eerily calm, imposing, calculated and scheeming. I did both of those and a demon that can do both is even worse. Just gotta switch between those when it makes sense. Mhmm... so personality wise... basically gotta switch between one of those pointy eared muscle covered hounds and a chihuahua that can actually bite, not just bark.'
While the nervous human revised his 'role', he'd already start to adjust his body language. As if by instinct he'd lift his shoulders and roll them back, his spine popping as he straightened, shoulders relaxing and dropping at ease after that. This move would straighten his posture entirely and push out his ribcage and chest, something his mother drilled into his head over the years as being a confident, yet relaxed posture when done right. He'd straighten his head's posture, from the neck, which nearly made him look like it was positioned up from a downward perspective, requiring him to literally look down upon someone with his eyes. His hands were curled up nearing to fists, yet hung relaxed, as if to show an eager readiness for violence. As a last touch up instead of stepping quietly as he got used to over the years, he'd let his steps announce his presence, as one who's afraid of nothing would.
After traveling a bit over half of the treck towards the river and where the Rock Backs would be situated, there would be a clear sight of lights up ahead in the distance, clearly from torches. Michael would gaze at them with a bit of confusion, but regardless he kept on walking closer and openly. Slowly, three figures would be more visible, one of them turned showing as to either be themselves striped or have brown stripes painted on their back.
Only half a second of hesitation would pass as the human took in a deep breath and he then shouted out. "Ay! You three. You're with the Rock Backs, correct?" He'd say while showing quite the enthusiastic face despite his true feelings of nervousness.
As he had guessed, indeed the trio seemed to be Tuskir and the stripes confirmed their alegiance as expected. The figures turned to face him properly as he shouted in his approach. Once he got a bit closer, one of them that was a bit more upfront huffed a not so pleased snort at him.
"Aye. We were sent ahead to guide ya to our encampment, Daeman." He replied with a clear displeasure to his tone.
Another one of them stood silent as he just glared at Michael, while the third let out a guttural squeal and spat on the ground. "Well? What ya waitin' fer, hellspawn? Pick up the pace and keep yer paws where we can see 'em. Just cause ya struck a deal with Bruyza, it don't mean we gotta like ya."
"Dawww. Isn't this nice? We already seem to be getting along and on the same page. I've a feeling we'll be sharing stories soon while braidin' one another's hair, eh? You'd look good with twin tails." Michael said smirking while looking at the third Tuskir who haf a wilder mane and carried himself in a heavier looking armor than the other two.
The human continued his walk with the trio, but something didn't sit right with him. While they walked, two of the three had put out and discarded their torches. As they walked forward wordlessly, those same two boar men would also position themself to the sides and back of Michael, doing so nearly seemlessly, but not enough for the human not to notice.
While they advanced, Michael would peek at them with the corners of his eyes while also glancing forward at the only one who still had a light source. 'This doesn't feel right. I know for certain we were to meet at the same place as before... am I being paranoid? Alright... think. If they were afraid I'd not show up they'd wait until the time was up and then came to us... there's no reason for them to think I need escorts since I'm supposed to be a big scary strong thing. Eeeeh... why are these shmucks here then?"
Michael started taking into consideration multiple reasons that could be possible for his unexpected escort to be present, but none of them made sense. With his uneasiness building up, he'd sling his backpack off and hold it, quickly getting the attention of the two at the back.
"What do you think yer doin', hellspawn?" One of them asked while putting a hand on an axe hung by his belt.
"Hm? Oh, cut down on that paranoia. Makes you seem pathetic. This meat form I had to take to be here has needs. One of them happens to be water. If you've ever heard of somethin' like that, or... what? Do you milk rocks up in the mountains to sustain yourselves?" Michael would reply with a chuckle as he taunted his escort while starting to rustle objects in his backpack with his hand.
"You... hnngh-..." The Rock Back grunted and huffed as he muttered between clenched teeth.
Taking advantage of this momentary distraction, Michael would feel about and find one of his tiny Woh flask potions and he'd use his fingers to tuck it into the band of his bracer at the wrist, before grasping a hold of a small water skin and pulling it out. 'Heh. Well, I might not be a good slight of hand at pocker, but I didn't learn to hide pieces of paper in my sleeves for nothing. Stressful, but thanks to that I passed chemistry in highschool.' He'd think while smirking at the one of the escort he just antagonized, giving him a double eyebrow wiggle lift up as he took a sip of his water.
"You really like talkin' daeman, or you just like the sound o' your voice?" The armored one asked, who also happened to be the one with the torch at the front. He walked with his back turned at the human, not even trying to gaze back as he spoke.
"Eh. I find conversing with you meat sacks at least a bit intriguing. It is fun to hear what thoughts run through those narrow minds of yours. Why are you asking? Interested in actually entertaining me in conversation?" Michael would reply as he packed his waterskin once more and put his backpack back on.
"Thought ta meself it'd be crazy to converse with somethin' like ya, but then I realized, what da hell, when am I ta get another chance like this?" The Tuskir continued while slowing his pace, as if to let Michael approach to make their talk easier to get into.
The human naturally inched closer bit by bit as he simply walked, his smirk still on his expression. He'd keep vigilent of the two in the back while moving up in the small formation. "Indeed. Perhaps I'll be able to satisfy some of your curio-"
Before he could finish his sentence, the armored tuskir in front of him stopped dead in his tracks, turning with a decently large vial of liquid and herbs in his other hand and he'd splash Michael right in the face. Surprised by the sudden violent spill of liquid against his face, the human would close his eyes and bring his hands to his face to quickly wipe away the liquid. While blinded in this manner, his guard would be shattered as a brutal force would then slam into his right side, making Michael buckle as he got sent rolling in the opposite direction.
"HAHAHA! GOT 'IM GOOD, DIDN' I?!" exclaimed one of the two Tuskir from the back, who was armed with a club, right after he just bashed up the human.
Michael took a half second to realize he just got attacked, with the hand that had the vial hidden against its wrist pushup to his eyes to wipe them, he'd push himself up on the other wobbly like. He was afraid to try and open his eyes, unknowing what he got splashed with so instead he bit on the cork of his poison vial, opened it and stashed it in his cheek, as he dripped the solution on his tongue while wiping his eyes. "I- I can't see-..." he groaned loudly while trying to get his footing.
"Yeah. You got 'im good." The armored tuskir said while tossing the vial aside. "Better prepare yourself fer a sudden departure daeman. We'll make sure ta send ya back to the firey pit ya came from. Hope ya liked a lil' taste o' holy water. Keep ya well on your way back." He'd say while taking a handaxe off of his own belt.
"Hah ha ha... Sadly fer ya, not all o' us are keen on makin' deals with hell filth. Bruyza ain' gonn' be happy with ya missin' but is expected of daemen to be shifty scum, so yer missin' presence will be easy ta explain when we're all... surprised yer missin', he he he... ." The tuskir who Michael antagonized said while snorting and cackling, unsheathing his handaxe at the ready.
The three began closing in on Michael, their gate relaxed as they taunted him, their confidence in having the upperhand letting them ooze with a gloating energy. Michael instead had finally gathered himself, head tilted back as he held onto his face, having just finished the last few drips of the Woh vial.
"I can't see... how you furred fucks didn't think that'd just piss me off." He'd say as his trembling voice would change to one more confident. As he spoke he lowered his head at a way lower angle, pulling his hand down in the same motion to reveal a pair of bloodshot eyes, as well as a bloody dripping nose and a wide toothy grin, stained by his own crimson. The shadows on his face would make it seem like he bared his teeth from ear to ear, the expression of the pin point focused eyes, quickly darting to focus on each of the three attackers. Now, that put a stop to their enclosing movement, and this simple shift had changed their confident gloating to a dread filled uncertainty.
submitted by D0WNGR4D3 to HFY [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:29 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
We were on a road like the one pictured above e
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.

For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/


Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/

What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
submitted by Contactunderground to HighStrangeness [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:28 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project J

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project J
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
We were on a road like the one pictured above
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.

For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/

Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/

What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
submitted by Contactunderground to Experiencers [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:26 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Contact Network History Project
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
The road we were on looked like the one pictured above
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.

For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/


Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/

What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
submitted by Contactunderground to ContactUnderground [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:24 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
The road we were on looked like the one pictured above
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.

For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/


Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/

What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
submitted by Contactunderground to CE5 [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:23 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
The mountain road we were on look like the one pictured above
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.

For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/

Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/

What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
submitted by Contactunderground to AnomalousEvidence [link] [comments]


2024.05.15 01:16 Contactunderground A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project

A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life: Contact Network History Project
A Telepathic Override that Probably Saved My Life:
Joseph Burkes MD 2019
Telepathy: transmission of information from one person to another without using any of our known sensory channels or physical interaction.
We were on a road like the one above. My driver suddenly said that we had to get off the road.
A KIND OF “KNOWINGNESS”
During the early 1990s on two occasions while doing fieldwork with my CE-5 contact team in Southern California, I experienced the acquisition of information by no known sensory channel. I suddenly “knew” one might say “at the level of knowledge” important details about sightings that subsequently occurred “as predicted.”
Our contact network had been advised by the CSETI Director that such forms of communication could possibly take place during our investigations. Nonetheless, it was very surprising when this actually happened to me. It was experienced not as a kind of “bolt out of the blue” but rather as a gentle confident sort of “knowingness” about what was to later take place on the night of our investigation.
In advance of the actual sighting, I knew when, where in the sky and the number of craft that would appear. Being open to this sort of “guidance” can be very helpful. I know this is true because one night in June 2007 such telepathic guidance compelled my driver to pull off a dangerous road.
A “TELEPATHIC OVERRIDE” POSSIBLY SAVED OUR LIVES
In 2007, I was commuting 1400 miles round trip every two weeks between LA and the college town Arcata, where my wife was living. It is located near the Oregon border. I did two weeks “on” in the ER and then ten days “off” with her. The remainder of the time I was either driving or flying across the state. What a schlep it was! (To use a Jewish expression.) Janie Krieger (a pseudonym) was a volunteer contact worker that lived in San Jose. This was about halfway to LA, so I often stopped by to see her and other contact activists in the Bay Area. On one particular trip, Janie and I decided to drive up a road to see if we might find an appropriate location where we might be able to do fieldwork
In the mountains to the east of San Jose, there is a county park that is accessible on a very treacherous road. It is a narrow two-lane highway that is bordered on one side by a deep ravine and on the other side by a steep rock face. This county road goes up the mountain with many switchbacks and has practically no shoulder or pullouts to move safely off the road in case of emergency. It was near dusk, and her tiny VW Bug slowly went up the winding path. There was no traffic in either direction. As we climbed higher into the foothills, every fifty to a hundred yards, we encountered a sharp curve to the right. The hairpin turns afforded no visibility as to what was beyond the curve in the road.
It was getting dark. We drove at perhaps twenty-five miles per hour on the straight portions of the road and far slower on the curves. I started feeling very uneasy. I experienced a premonition of danger, but I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Usually, my spirits are high when doing contact work. Janie was an excellent driver, so I should not have been alarmed.
Suddenly she blurted out, “I just got the message that we have to pull off the road.” I agreed with her without asking why because I too was feeling a sense of danger but had received no clear message as she did. But what were we supposed to do? On one side of the road was a hundred-foot drop into the ravine. On the other side was the wall of the mountain with no pullouts or highway shoulder in sight. We didn’t want to turn around and abandon our search. So, she slowed the vehicle, and we kept going. Fortunately, on one of the straight portions of the road we found a narrow shoulder. If we parked with one side of the Bug almost touching the rock face, we were mostly off the road. I got out of the car from the driver’s side because she had parked flush against the hillside. We then pressed ourselves against the wall of rock and waited.
In less than two minutes, we suddenly heard the roar of car engines. Around the curve there suddenly appeared two muscular sedans with thick tires designed for racing. I was shocked. The young male drivers were actually drag racing neck to neck down the narrow mountain road and they were taking up both lanes!
On the side of a straightaway portion of the road, where we had barely been able to park, they whizzed by us at what looked like close to fifty miles per hour. After they flashed past us with inches to spare, both drivers simultaneously jammed on the brakes as they approached a curve down the road. They whipped around that sharp turn with brakes screeching and disappeared.
Janie and I looked at each other in disbelief. If she had not received the warning to get off the road immediately, we probably would have been killed. With the ravine on one side and the rock face on the other, there was no place for us to go. Her tiny VW Bug would have been crushed and likely flung into the ravine like a child’s toy.
The idea that contact activists are actively being protected is something that I had heard prior to this incident. The notion that I, like many contactees, might have had a lifelong relationship with so-called “ETs” is something that I wonder about. On two occasions before age 18, I narrowly escaped death in what could have been fatal motor vehicle accidents. Many people believe that angels are looking after them. Contact experiencers sometimes say the same about aliens. The telepathic override that Janie reportedly experienced is something that I cannot prove to skeptics. The fact that we were on a mission for the loose network of activists that I refer to as the “Contact Underground” when this event occurred, should give courage to fellow contact workers. Not only are we not alone in the universe, but sometimes we might even be protected!
Comments:

Name Deleted: What’s the thinking behind why some people are “protected” through some form of intervention and others are left to experience tragedy?

J. Burkes MD: I regret that I don't have an easy answer to your question about why non-human intelligences might choose to intervene or not depending on the circumstances. The blog was written primarily for contact activists or contact experiencers in general. One individual that Preston Dennett and I wrote about in Chapter Six on UAP healings in "Beyond UFOs" is a very prominent UFO researcher and author who requested that we not reveal her name. She was reportedly healed from a disabling condition called chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS). She asked to be healed by the Grey aliens who were allegedly abducting her for decades. They reportedly did so one night when she was "taken" aboard an "ET craft." Following her remarkable sudden clearing of all symptoms from CFS, she subsequently asked them why they had afforded her the remarkable cure. The answer reportedly was "We heal our own!" One might conclude from this answer that because she had become a willing participant in the "alien" outreach effort, their successful treatment was transactional. She was helping them, so they helped her. This kind of relationship is rarely reported in the UFO subculture.
For More Reports from the Contact Underground the following links are provided:
This report was first published in 1993 on my return from a CE5 investigation in the “Volcanic Zone” near the Mexico City. There our team witnessed multiple UFOs including a large triangular “craft” that signaled at us.
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/02/20/ufo-investigation-in-the-volcanic-zone/
Crop Circles are thought of as communications from UAP associated intelligences. Might “cloud formations” be next?
https://underground.contact/2022/06/13/if-flying-saucer-intelligences-communicate-with-crop-circles-could-cloud-formations-be-next/
What if flying saucer intelligences had access to every witness’ full treasure chest of memories?
https://contactunderground.wordpress.com/2022/04/18/do-uap-intelligences-have-full-telepathic-access-to-every-witness-storehouse-of-memories/
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2024.05.15 01:16 Haunting-Band-2763 Hazbin Hotel - Episode 1, Season 1: Overture - (Genderswap)

(An animation shows black and white clouds parting)
Charles: (Off-screen) Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucy was one of these angels. She was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But she was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt her way of thinking was dangerous to the perder of their world. So she watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Eve (I couldn't think of a female name that looked like Adam) and Lilian. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Eve demanded control and Lilian refused to submit to her will. He fled the garden. Drawn in by his fierce independence, Lucy found him and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Eve's new groom, Adam, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For the single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucy and her love into the dark pit she had created, never allowing her to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucy lost her will to dream. But Lilian thrived, empowering demon-kind with his voice and his songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilian's hope remained. And his dream was passed down to their precious son, the Prince of Hell. (The prince shuts the "Story Of Hell" book) (On-screen) Don't worry, Dad. I'll make you proud. (He holds a key)
Vagner: Charles?
Charles: Augh! (The key turns into a cat) Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?
Vagner: Uh... Yeah, I was right there.
Charles: Sorry. I get worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps.
Vagner: (chuckles) I know. Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?
Charles: I'm fine, just...Thinking, ya know, family stuff.
Vagner: Did you hear from your dad yet?
(Charles shakes his head saying no)
Vagner: Oof. How long has it been now?
Charles: Not that long, only...Seven...Years...Off something important, I'm sure. But this kingdom was something he really cared about. Something I care about.
Vagner: Well, at least you aren't alone.
Charles: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work.
Vagner: It will. I have faith in you.
(The cat hopes on Charles)
Vagner: All right. Come on. Alice says she has something to show us.
(Vagner heads to the door and Charles look out of the window and see Hell on fire and goes)
(A commercial plays)
Alice: Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucy's delusional son Charleson Morningstar! Come place your fate in his inexperienced hands as he tries to work through his mommy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun thing! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! You last desperate attempt at salvation starts here.
(The tv suits off)
Alice: So, what'd ya' think?
Vagner: I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?!
Charles: Uh, yeah, one note...Alice, I mean...First off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um...Maybe the tone is a bit...Off? We want people to want to come here, this makes it look...Ummm...
Vagner: Bad. The word you're looking for is "bad".
Alice: Funny, I was going for hilarious!
Vagner: It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.
Charles: Vagner is right, Alice. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them.
Alice: Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But YOU insisted on this noisy picture box adversiment! So I had a little fun with it.
Vagner: Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it? (Stand on the sofa) Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run the hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time!
(A demon on a sofa raises her hand)
Vagner: What?
Angela: If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?
Vagner: Angela, you're a porn star.
Angela: A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in.
Vagner: We are not filming a porn as a commercial.
Angela: Why not? Sex sells, don't it? I swear if you film me goin' at it with mistress fancy-talk-creepy-voice here, you'd rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel.
Alice: Haha! Never going to happen!
Charles: Angela, I appreciate you wanting to use you special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but...I really don't want to exploit you, in that way!
Angela: Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes...
(Charles laughs uncomfortably and his phone rings with his mom calling)
Angela: The small tits that make everyone think I'm a man...
Charles: Uhhh, hold that thought. I'll be right back! (Walks away)
Angela: I could keep goin' all night, baby.
(Charles breathes and answers the phone)
Charles: Hello? Mom?
Angela: Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't she just make people stay here?
Alice: Oh, trust me, (ominously) I can!
Hisky: Why the hell do you think I'm here?
(The camera goes to Hisky at the bar)
Hisky: You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitches moan all the time if she wasn't forcin' me?
Niffter: I like being forced!
Hisky: Keep that to yourself, Niff.
Angela: What, you don't like being here with me, Whiskers?
Hisky: Call me "Whiskers" again and I'll that bottle down your throat.
Angela: Kinky. But I like pussies. But keep talkin' dirty.
Vagner: Ugh, Angela, let Hisky do her job. And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to.
Angela: I'm choosing to be here, and I think is all stupid. We're in Hell, toots. It's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?
Vagner: Well, maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it before doesn't mean is not possible. (Angela pust her arm in his shoulder)
Angela: Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive.
Charles: (excitedly) Yeah, I can! Totally. Yeah, I'll head over there right away...Okay. (Turns off the phone) Hah! YES! YES!! Hahahaha!! Vagner! Holy shit!
Vagner: Ahh! What?!
Charles: (through closed mouth) Get over here!
(Vagner sighs and goes to where Charles is)
Vagner: What's going on?
Charles: (Inhales) My mom just called. She said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. She asked if I could go instead. (Breathes deeply)
Vagner: But... But...But the extermination just happened. What would they want this soon after...
Charles: (Singing) I can do this. Somehow, I know it I'll get Heaven behind my plan!
Vagner: Charles, hold on.
Charles: There's just no way I could blow it. Not this once a lifetime change!
Vagner: It's just a meeting.
Charles: To change their minds. And touch their hearts. Or whatever angels have.
Vagner: This could be bad.
Charles: Cheer up, Vagner. This could be swell. Something tells that today will be a happy day in Hell!
Vagner: Okay, but just don't... sing to them.
Angela: That motherfucker is halfway down the street.
Vagner: Is he...
Angela: Oh, he's dancin'.
Vagner: Ugh, no.
Charles: There's a warm fuzzy feeling that wafts through the air! Every street so revealing it's hard not to stare. It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhere! If you don't mind the smell! It's a happy day in Hell! Hi, miss!
Demon: Go fuck yourself!
Dead Sinner #1: There's a endless trash fire that's burnig my soul!
Charles: Hello!
Imp: There's a lot of barbed wire to shove in her holes!
Charles: Uh, excuse me...
Executioner: Doing what is required we all have a role!
Dead Sinner #2: I'm not doing well!
Ensemble: Another shitty day in Hell!
Charles: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed, that any soul can change!
Vagner: Those angels minds are hard to change!
Charles: Then they know that everyone can be redeemed from the evil to the strange!
Vagner: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
Charles: I can hear all their stories, the lost and the displaced! And I know that they're of an acquired taste! But if I open the door and give them a place at my Hazbin Hotel it'll be a happy day in Hell! (Jumps in the back of a truck) From the porn studio where the cinephiles go to watch award winning demon bukkake shows to the Cannibal Town where they don't wear a frown 'cause...Holy shit, ew, my gosh, why?! And I don't give a crow that her brains got in my eye! Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven's genocide! I can do this...
Dead Sinner #1: There's an endless trash fire...
Charles: I just know it! Dead Sinner #1: That's burning my soul!
Chorus: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
Charles: I'll get Heaven behind my plans! There's just no way I could blow it!
Demon Sinner #3: I kinda like the barbed wire that's shoved in my hole!
Charles: Not this once in a lifetime chance! To change their minds!
Trenchcoat Demon: And touch my parts!
Charles: Oh...No, thank you. I'm just gonna...Fullfill my destiny!
Trenchcoat Demon: Your loss fucker!
Charles: I can already tell! Today is gonna be a fucking happy day in Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell! (Charles enters at the lobby) Hello? (echoes) Hello? Creepy...(He goes to the reception, rings the bell in the table and a paper and a feather pen appear in front of him) Oh, okay! Also creepy. (Signs the paper)
(Elevator doors open, Charles goes to them and enters in a dark room)
Charles: Hello? Is anyone here?
(The lights turn on)
Eve: 'Sup?
Charles: Holy shit! (Falls in the floor and gets up) Hi, I'm Charles. My mom asked if I could meet you.
Eve: Yeah, I know.
Charles: Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. (Stands his hand)
Eve: Totally. Nice to meet you, too. (Stands her hand)
(Charles hand passes through Eve's hand)
Charles: Ahh!
Eve: Ha! I fucking got you! Did you fuckin' see that?
(Luther shaves his head in yes)
Eve: Good shit!
Charles: Uh, so wait, you aren't here?
Eve: No, you think I'd come down there? (Laughs) No. I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fuckin' hardcore, don't get me wrong. But, it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there's just so "eugh" ya know? (Chuckles) Ew.
Charles: Right. So I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. There's a project I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about...(Eve puts her finger in his mouth)
Eve: Hey, hey, hey, slow down. We got time. How about we get to know each other, mm? How about some lunch? You hungry? I got you! (Shows a plate with ribs) Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it.
Charles: Uh, thanks! (His arms passes through the plate of ribs)
Eve: (Laughing) I got you again, fucker! Haha fuckin' hilarious! Haha!
(Back at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone is at the lobby)
Vagner: Okay, so Charles is dealing with something very important, so while he's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that representants his vision and what we're doing here. So we need a camera. Alice?
(Alice snaps her fingers and an old camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: A video camera.
Alice: Hmmm. (Snaps her fingers)
(A video camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: All right, let's do this!
(Vagner films Angela sitting at the bar)
Vagner: And...Action!
Hisky: "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, can I help you with anything?"
Angela: "I've been a bad girl. And I need a big strong mommy to put me in my place...On the path to redemption!"
Hisky: Ugh! "Well, you come..."
Angela: "Oh yes!"
Hisky: (boredly) "To the right place!"
Vagner: Cut! Okay, Angela, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Hisky, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?
Hisky: (Angrily) I ain't no actress, I can't memorize this shit!
Angela: Well, we could improve this shit, baby cakes! (Purrs seductively and Hisky push her out of the counter) Ahh!
Hisky: Whoops. (Drink a bottle)
Vagner: Hisky, come on!
(Meanwhile, Charles is bored)
Eve: So I was playing this gig, and for some fucking reason this virtue boy was digging on the drummer, and it's like, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Eve. I'm the original pussy! All pussies descend from me. You think you like a drummer pussy? No way, I'm the Pussy-fucking master! (Eats sloppily) So anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?
Charles: Wait, your name is Eve? Like the first woman? That means you...Ohhh...(Enlightened) That explains so much.
Eve: I know. I fucking rock.
Charles: Well, Eve, ma'am. Mrs. Eve, ma'am.
Eve: Call me Pussymaster.
Charles: Eve, you seem like a smart...well, stand up girl.
Eve: (With the finger in her teeth) Uh-huh.
Charles: And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a bigger revolutionary, a...A genius!
Eve: I maen, your words, babe.
Charles: Who would really her name on something.
Eve: Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!
Charles: It's a solution to our biggest problem!
Eve: Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.
Charles: No! Our other biggest problem.
Eve: Oh, uh...Ugly people? (Looks at the camera) Math? Global warming? Nah, wait that's Earth's problem. Umm...
(At the hotel, a bug walks in the floor and a needle tries to stab it saverel times)
Niffter: Hehehe. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Vagner: Alright Niffter. Niffter? Niffter! (Stops him) Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms". Okay?
Niffter: Got it. I'm ready.
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) Action!
(Niffter looks at the camera with his pupil constricted and Angela and Vagner look at him confused and he keeps staring weirdly)
Vagner: Uhh...Cut. (Turns off the camera)
(Niffter smiles again)
Niffter: (Giggles) How was that?
Vagner: Well, Niffter, you actually have to say the line. So let's roll again.
Niffter: Okay!
Vagner: Action. (Turns on the camera)
(Niffter stares deeply at the camera)
Angela: You're doing great, Vagina!
Vagner: Cut! Alright, um, maybe wr can try to fix it in the post.
Angela: Do you even know what that means?
Vagner: (Angrily) I'll figure it out!
(In the lobby, Vagner is watching the video with the camera connected to the tv)
Hisky: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.
(Vagner groans, covers his eyes and Alice appears in his side)
Alice: Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm?
Vagner: Ugh, esta pendeja...Why are you even here?
Alice: For the entertainment! I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly. Like you are doing now! Good job!
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) And here is Alice, the egocentric piece of shit that...
(Alice gets static on the camera and it starts to spark and Vagner screams and knocks the camera down)
Alice: I wouldn't try that, my darling. (Sinisterly) This face was made for radio.
Vagner: (Gets angry) That's it! I don't care who or what you are! If you are staying here you are going to make this work! Beause it won't be so "entertaining" to watch an empty hotel will it, shit ass?! (Turns around and walks away)
Alice: Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.
Vagner: Pft! You think I'm that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.
Alice: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or...Charles can come back to absolutely nothing! Your choice.
Vagner: (Sighs) Fine. (Gets the video camera and raises in Alice's hand and green ghosted skulls fly around it)
Alice: Now then! (Makes the camera disappear and snaps her fingers)
(Angela, Hisky and Niffter, a lot of filming materials and a ghost recording team appear in the lobby and everyone gets tailor clothes)
Vagner: Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial.
(Meanwhile)
Eve:...When you take him out for the fifth time and he still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, (In deep voice) "Hey I thought you wanted equality"!
Charles: (Frustrated) No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!
Eve: (Normal) Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered! Luther, how many demons did you kill this year?
Luther: Got a good 275 this year, ma'am.
Eve: 275? Whoa, badass! Awesome job, danger dick! Pound it. (Punch fists with Luther)
Charles: Uh, no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that, right?
Eve: Ohhh, yeah...That must suck for you. Pft...Hahahaha! Charles: But these are souls. Human souls, just the same as the ones you have in Heaven.
Luther: They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation.
Charles: You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.
Luther: Angels don't make mistakes.
Charles: You really think that?
Luther: I know that.
Eve: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fucking life.
Luther: The only reason you're still here is because Mommy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
(Charles shrinks back)
Eve: Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it...
Charles: Oh! Fuck!...(Get up from the chair) Okay. I've a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't really hearing before, so here goes. (Clears throat) (Singing) I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehabe these sinners and cleanse all their souls at my Hazbin Hotel! (Normal) Wait I'm getting ahead of myself! Right! Extermination! (Singing) I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year. And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven that trip disappears! You can wave that chore farewell! (Deep breath) It'll be a happy day in...
Eve: (Singing) Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time!
Charles: (Normal) Okay?
Eve: If what you're suggesting is letting them climb! Up the ladder. Oh they rather cross the Pearly Gates? Sorry, sweetie, but there's no defying in their fates! 'Cause Hell is forever wheter you like it or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! 'Cause the rules are black and white there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again!
Charles: Okay, but...
Eve: Just try to chillax, babe, you're wasting your breath!
Charles: (Nervously) Hehe...
Eve: Did I hear you imply that they deserve death? Are they winners? Are they sinners? 'Cause it's cut and dry!
Charles: Actually, if you take a look...
Eve: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! And when all's said and done! (Said and done) There's the question of fun! (Fun) And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment! (Imitates guitar) Guitar solo, fuck yeah! (Imitates guitar) Hell is forever whether you like or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot!
Charles: Where all these people come from?
Eve: 'Cause the rules are black and white, there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! (materializes a guitar and play it) Fucking Hell is forever and it's meant to suck a lot! So give up your dumb endeavor 'cause you don't have a shot!
(Charles groans, his paper gets on fire and his hair moves in the air and horns appear in his head)
Eve: Long as I've got your attention, I guess In should probably mention that we made a determination (Shows a contract) To move up the next extermination!
Charles: What?!
Eve: Can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts! (Holds Charles' wrist) I know is just been a week, but we'll be back in six months! (Spins Charles out of the room and plays her guitar)
Charles: Um, wait, didn't you...(Goes at the door, but it closes) Awh, shit! (Punches the door)
(Charles returns sad to the Hazbin Hotel)
Vagner: Charles! (Hugs him) How did it go? Did they listen?
Charles: Oh, uh...They sure did...hear it! But, um...
Vagner: Oh! Come here. We have something exciting to show you! (Holds Charles to the living room) Alice pulled some strings, and it's about to air.
Alice: I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha!
Charles: Wait? The commercial? You all made a new one?
Angela: Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do can say so myself.
Charles: That's...That's amazing.
Angela: Shh! It's starting!
Vagner: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hot...
(The TV changes to the 666 News channel and everyone complains)
Kallie: (On TV) Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before! Do you know what that means, Tomita?
Tomita: No. What does that means, Kallie?
Kallie: It means we are all royally fucked!
(The clock in an hourglass changes to 176 with everyone screaming)
Angela: Wait...What? Why?!
(A drone laser scans a headless body of an angel laying in Hell and Eve and Luther see then from the ship)
Luther: We found the body, ma'am. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them!
Eve: No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left to pull a stunt like this again. (Breaks the projector and her eyes and mouth glow in the dark)
(The end credits start playing)
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2024.05.15 00:50 Junepero Story’s of panem 114 pre games

"Good evening, tributes, and welcome back to the stories of Panem. Before we begin, I would like to thank Christian Blanco, the original writer of "Tales of the Hunger Games," and Lauren from "Panem Reborn." Now, since I don't have too much else to say, let's go!
Game 114 (150):
District 1: Jacqueline and Facet
District 2: Malona and Crane
District 3: Darlene and Colt
District 4: Brook and Harbor
District 5: Unknown girl and Darian
District 6: Fifi and Atlas
District 7: Bloom and Amarylio
District 8: Scarlet and Carter
District 9: Zest and Mazin
District 10: Zulu and Mateo
District 11: Unknown girl and Lee
District 12: Dorothy and Hargree
District 14: Both unknown
A plethora of excitement crossed the capital over the past year, especially their beloved commentator Camilia Ravenstil's pregnancy, which resulted in her giving birth to twins named Amelia and Cyrus, to honor the past two Game Makers. Even Winnow's victory was still in high popularity.
As the reapings rolled around on July 4th, many of the capital citizens flew to their TVs and viewing parties. Winnow made her journey from district to district with her mother and entourage from the capital. When she landed in District 4 on the late morning of the third day of the reapings, she was greeted by Mayor Chigwell. After a rather long tour of the district's harbors and jewelry stores, they stopped at a nearby seaside diner for a brief lunch. Viewers in Snow Square laughed at Winnow's face of pure boredom as Mayor Chigwell ranted about the latest trends in the district's fashion. Winnow's face soon turned to relief as the mayor brought her back to the district's reaping square.
After a little bit of time, the light blue-catered youths were walked into the square by rather impatient Peacekeepers. Mayor Chigwell finished up his speech before welcoming Winnow to the stage. She gave out a rather tired smile at the district's population before talking about the joys of being a victor. She then asked if any of the girls wanted to volunteer. After hearing no response, she then took out the name of 17-year-old Brook Branachok.
Brook was found in the back of the 17-year-old section. Her platinum blonde hair made her quite noticeable to viewers in Snow Square. She sighed dramatically before flipping her blonde hair back in a dramatic manner as her piercing blue eyes even made some of her nearby peers shudder in fear as Brook arrived at the stage and shook Winnow's hand. "She was later described as a 'rich high school bully' by commentators. The girls in a mood," Winnow laughed before shaking Brook’s hand before walking to the male reaping bowl. After a brief silence, she thrusted her hand elbow-deep before taking out the name of 17-year-old Harbor Zanders. A brief pause soon followed by a discussion as a boy with dark brown curly hair with a smattering of light brown freckles on his face gave a guilt-ridden smile before walking up to the stage. However, as a group of teens his age giggled, Harbor turned back and glared at the giggling boys as they suddenly grew quiet. Harbor soon took out a flask of wine. Capital citizens laughed as Harbor found one of his friends and tossed it to him before walking back up to the stage. Back in the capital, both Camilia and Silca and even most of the audience had been surprised at the pair's striking attitudes.
Harbor then shook Brook and Winnow’s hand before they were announced as this year's tributes for District 4 before moderate applause followed. Winnow soon brought the two tributes to the drawing room before she made her journey to District 3 with her entourage.
Brook was visited by her mother, father, and four younger sisters clinging dearly onto their sister. After successfully removing her sobbing siblings, Brook’s mother calmed her daughter down as her father, Coral, gave the best advice he could offer. Peacekeepers soon came in to bring Brook to the waiting dock. She waved and said she’d "At least try to win."
As for Harbor, he was visited by his mother, father, and his younger and older brothers. As his siblings were saddened as well as his parents, Harbor embraced them all in a tight hug. Before he was needed at the dock, his girlfriend Melanie even joined in this hug causing Harbor to show some emotion.
After a few more minutes, peacekeepers soon brought Harbor out of the room to join Brook at the dock as the pair boarded the jet boat to the capital.
"Man, you've been through the ringer, haven't you?"
"Same goes to you, girl. Haven't seen you in a year."
The pair soon chatted with each other about their experiences at the academy and gossiping about old friends. Brook, in particular, laughed hysterically when Harbor mentioned how his ex-girlfriend got karma returned to her when she crashed a birthday party at Harbor’s dad's bar, resulting in the peacekeepers putting her in the district's jail for a month.
However, as the pair tried to dine upon the food provided, the boat hit a bump resulting in Brook, Harbor, four avoxes, the dining table, and nine peacekeepers to go flying up into the sky. Thankfully, no harm came between the fifteen as the peacekeepers then helped the two back up as a new lunch buffet was arrived. And so did their mentor, Sienna Shoreville, victor of the 105th Hunger Games, arrived in.
"I don't want you two to ally with the 2s, maybe the 1s, depends on how they are."
Brook looked curiously at Sienna before saying, "Didn't Anamaria get her neck snapped by the girl a year prior?"
Sienna groaned in annoyance at remembering this cringeworthy death before walking to the bar carriage before inviting the two to join. As Sienna asked the pair about their lives, she laughed while listening to Harbor telling some stories of working at his dad's bar and the customers who would frequent the place. However, when Sienna asked Brook about her life and possible skills, Brook sighed before saying, "I guess looking pretty’s a skill."
Sienna laughed before replying, "For getting sponsors, yes, but not when you're in a fight to the death."
As this reality check wiped the smile from Brook’s face, she and Harbor finished up their meals before listening more to Sienna’s lecture about the games. And as an act to see if her tributes were actually paying attention, she quizzed them on the dos and don'ts in the capital. As Harbor passed this quiz, Sienna laughed before allowing him some "Capital Goodies." However, as Brook blatantly failed the quiz, she laughed and called Harbor a "suck-up" before walking to her room.
Sienna looked at Harbor for a second before saying, "I guess she’s either related to the mayor or is a spoiled rotten brat."
"She usually brags about her rich family members, always thinks she's better than everyone."
"And trust me, the girl ain't pretty."
Sienna and Snow Square laughed as she then patted him on the back before""telling him to get a 'nap' in before they were to arrive in the capital."
He nodded before Brook returned. It is unknown what the two girls talked about for the remainder of the trip, but our historians have noted that Brook’s scowl from before had dissolved for the time being. As evening rolled around, the pair from District 4's boat landed at Mcaine dock as an excited crowd of capital citizens swarmed the pair from 4 and their very popular mentor, who had been giving out her new jewelry to some of her lucky fans.
Brook and Harbor performed rather well, with the capital citizens enjoying their "feisty sailor attitudes." Even some reporters from Golden 24 put up a most popular tribute poll with Harbor and Brook being in the top 3, narrowly beating Fifi from District 6.
Sienna then thanked the capital for their time before taking her tributes to the limousine. Once it arrived at the accommodation tower, they arrived at the 4th floor. After arriving, Sienna called their stylist, Orivile Cartwright.
Orivile embraced Sienna before showing his tributes his pre-made outfits, which were Sailor themed, which made Brook and Harbor smile. Due to them having a fair amount of time left, Sienna displayed the post-reaping commentaries before turning on the commentary for District 1 as Orivile worked away at the pairs' outfits.
Mayor Cassino greeted a very exhausted Winnow Fraiser. Also accompanying the mayor was Realm Jones, victor of the 101st Hunger Games, and Quintin Mahoney, victor of the 108th Hunger Games, joined Winnow on the initial tour. Winnow appeared to be star-struck sitting between both iconic victors. She even turned around to Quintin saying, "I can't believe I get to meet a legend like you."
Quintin laughed before giving Winnow some comic relief during the tour, telling her about his games and even asking a few questions about her own games. At the conclusion of the tour, Realm's eyes lit up in delight as he saw his own capital mentor, Narcissa Valentions, warmly embracing her mentee.
"So what're you doing here?"
"I had some time off. I figured I'd come by and see how you've been doing. Business at my shop has been bustling as ever, so I figured I’d take a break to see my first victor."
As Realm and Narcissa soon walked over to the talent demonstrations together, Quintin laughed as Mayor Cassino welcomed the scarlet youths. Winnow was then brought up to the stage. She asked if any of the youths wanted to volunteer, becoming surprised when 10 ladies and 8 gentlemen volunteered for the role of tribute for District 1. Silca joked with Camilia, saying, "It's normal for them, isn't it?"
With the ladies' many remarkable weapon displays and archery displays, 18-year-old Jacqueline Faywether had been announced as the final volunteer to try her luck. She smiled at many nearby cameras as even one enthralled boy in the audience fainted seeing the rather extractive career girl.
She shot 10 arrows blindfolded and threw 8 knives in the letter J form, causing even more ripples of laughter sounded in the square. The mayor announced the two passing tributes. As for the two tributes, Jacqueline’s only remaining opponent, Jewel, had almost won the title of female tribute but had a stroke leading to Jacqueline to win the title of female tributes.
As for the guys, 18-year-old Facet Elixithorn had made himself a crowd and capital favorite by his spear-throwing display and to ending in a handstand with wild applause following. Three guys made it to the debate round with Realm this time asking the questions. With poise and dignity, Lance’s strong mind and less nerves had won him the title of male tribute for District 1.
After the pair were bathed and stylized, they were then brought out to the square as they then shook Winnow’s hand before she announced Jacqueline and Facet were announced as the tributes for District 1.
And after a brief meeting with their families and friends with not too much emotion, Jacqueline and Facet were then brought to the train as the train began their journey to the capital.
Narcissa, Realm, and Quintin then greeted their tributes with Jacqueline and Facet being surprised seeing their district's first victor’s mentor. Quintin soon brought the four to the table having a brief dinner with Narcissa asking the two if they had any skills besides their ‘weapons of choice.’ Quintin was pleased to hear of Jacqueline's diverse skills of weaponry before bragging to her district partner about her achievements at the Kobayashi self-defense center. However, instead of being jealous, Facet asked his district partner about her accomplishments.
Realm and Quintin were pleased with their tributes getting along with each other before showing the past reapings in the districts. Facet and Jacqueline laughed hysterically at the District 2 reaping games even Narcissa let out a smile. Quintin then asked the pair if there had been “Other commendable allies besides the non-dazzling loonies from 2 besides Jade and Hermina, they are dazzling.” Realm also chimed in adding that they should “Look for others.”
However, as Jacqueline was going to ask why Realm shushed her and said, “The career pack has their on and off years.” Jacqueline nodded before Quintin continued talking to the pair about the past reapings. Facet and Jacqueline even suggested the girl from 3 and the pair from 4 as potential allies. Realm appeared to consider this before Quintin added in that “He would see what he could do.”
As the pair nodded, the pair from 1’s train arrived in the outskirts of the capital. Narcissa soon styled the pair up, quietly complaining to Realm of how Jacqueline's red hair and Facet's long blonde curls were impossible to tame. The train then arrived in the capital with the usual excited capital crowd marveling scarlet couture. Jacqueline and Facet were both outstanding hits with the capital citizens maintaining proper etiquette. However, two capital lights had to be removed from the audience after heckling Facet about his district partner. Narcissa then wished Jacqueline and Facet luck before kissing Realm and Quintin on the cheek. Realm and Quintin then thanked the capital citizens for their time before bringing the pair from 1 to the limousine as it brought them to their accommodation tower.
Once they arrived at their accommodation tower apartment, they were greeted by their stylist, Aurelia Heavensbee. She smiled at the four of them before whisking them to the dining table showing them her designs for the parade. Jacqueline in particular was marveling at her long ruby dress as Facet jokingly told Jacqueline that they looked like a “walking jewel.” However, Aurelia frowned as Realm glared at Facet as the smile was wiped from his face. The pair then groaned in annoyance at their stylist's bland outfits.
Before the pair were then brought to the parade moments later, Facet and Jacqueline were immediately approached by Malona and Crane, both from 2 introducing themselves. However, Facet cut the pair off from further words, saying, “the career pack is gonna be different this year.” As Malona protested, Jacqueline said, ‘thanks but no thanks.” Both Jade Heath and Herminia Gold looked at the District 1 mentors in bewilderment as they also reciprocated. However, the pair from 1 then came over to the pair from 4 chatting with their mentor.
“Darling, you look stunning.”
“Oh, thank you, you dazzling ruby.”
Brook and Jacqueline seemed to obtain an instant connection. As Facet complemented Harbor’s outfit. Harbor smiled good-naturedly back before chatting away with him about lives in their districts. Facet soon asked the pair if they would be interested in an alliance in the arena; however, Sienna leaned in this conversation asking “Where are the 2s?”
Jacqueline then replied that they were “trying something new this year” before pointing at the pair making fun of Mateo from 10’s cow-themed parade outfit. Sienna shrugged as Brook and Harbor warmly accepted the offer as Facet and Jacqueline smiled saying “splendid see you soon.” When the pair from 1 got back, Realm popped up asking “You with the 4s this year.” As the pair nodded, Realm smiled and nodded with Quintin and Aurelia doing their touch-ups to their tributes' outfits. Sienna commended the pair for “making friends already,” she still urged caution before re-adding in “The 2 mentors there are my ride or dies but still keep your eyes on them if needed.”
The pair then nodded as the parade then began. Regal applause and cheers sounded for the pair from 1, but Nico Anderson lead editor of Anderson Fashion applauded for their strong impression but said the dress was “So Basic.” The pair from 4 were given a large amount of applause as Harbor and Brook waved at the audience even performing an old dance known as a “Jig”. The pair were also given a boatload of flowers and chocolate resulting in both Brook and Harbor sneezing uncontrollably at the end of the parade during President Mcaine's speech. Best dressed was ultimately awarded to the pair from 4 with their sailor-themed couture.
When the pair from 1 arrived back in their district apartment, they were glaring daggers from afar at Aurelia,
“How did it go.”
“How did it feel getting harshly criticized on live TV.”
Quintin shot Jacqueline a disapproving look as Realm asked if there other worthy allies. Both mentors were pleased hearing their success with the pair from 4 before Realm reassured them that they still looked “dazzling” before sending his tributes to bed. However, with the pair from 4, Sienna warmly embraced the two of her tributes on a best-dressed win. As Orville also joined in the group hug has the 4 of them partied till around 11:30 pm until Sienna sent her tributes to bed as she and Orville stayed up a while longer.
Bright and early the following morning, the mentors ushered their tributes to the training center with a very frustrated Apollo Price. Unfortunately, during his speech about the rules of the training center, he tasered Mateo from 10 after he tried to make a break for the door after Price’s speech concluded. Mateo’s mentor Bianca Jr Ramon rolled her eyes before dropping her mentee at the knife station.
The newly made career alliance between the District 1 and 4 tributes conquered most of the training stations with Facet and Harbor bonding over dropping and throwing large weights causing Fifi from 6 to wet herself earning a smirk from the boys. When Mateo awoke from his unconscious slumber, he immediately ran to Mateo asking him to spare. Since Mateo was no older than 14 and he was the youngest tribute the careers laughed before Facet told him to “Buzz off”. However, as Mateo continued to pester the career boys, Harbor gave Facet a knowing look before accepting Mateo’s sparing request.
A short crowd of tributes went to the jousting stations as Mateo and Harbor were briefed on the rules before being allowed to go at it. It was no surprise that Harbor won all 4 rounds.
“Easy”.
Harbor smiled warmly before being tackled to the ground by the 14-year-old boy from 10.
“You think you're better than me HA you rotten career boy.”
As Price Facet Brook and even Sienna tried to step in Harbor held his hand up to stay back. Harbor then threw the boy off him before pinching the nerve on Mateo’s neck knocking him clean out. As training master Price and Sienna looked at him in bewilderment before Price smiled saying
“Good job kid”.
Harbor smiled before Facet and he returned to the weight station and survival, knife and axe stations even giving advice to Amarylio from 7 with starting fires.
As for the girls they mainly gossiped to themselves and having “Girl talk” at the aquatic station sword station and archery stations. When any tribute tried to use the archery station both Jacqueline and Brook would melodicaly but fiercely slam there weapons into the targtes.
At the end of the traing head master price brought the tributes to the asscors room. Due to the request of the new head game maker the tributes assesment scores were kept strictly confidential. However tabloid reporters manage to scoop out that Jacqueline Facet Harbor and Malona from to managed to score at the top of the pack with a 11. Brook and Amarylio scored a 9 and at the bottom of the pack was Mateo and Hargree from 12 scoring a 3 each.
Both Sienna Quintin and Realm were beyond impressed with there tributes scores before they’re stylist sketched up potential outfits with there mentors soon quizing the pairs on interview educate.
Camilia Ravenstil welcomed the excited capital audience modeling a rather gothic dress that made her look like a ghost tree by the audience. The audience even laughed good naturedly as Camilia shook for a second as leaves fell of her costume as if wind had hit her. She then exictedly welcomed Jacqueline from 1. She was adorned in a stunning pink and red dress with her hair put up in braids. The two had some gossip before reavling to the audience that she was a decdent of Emarld Rivelta victor of the 34th hunher games. Camilia slapped her knee and laughed saying “Thats who you resmbl I guessed right I knew it!”
As the girls chatted the audience loved her regal responses to Camilas questions as even mentoning the carrer alliance brought the crowd into rapsous cheers,even when she talked about her allies from 4 openly. She then kissed Camilia on the hand before bowing which caused even more cheers before she was dismissed back stage. Facet was welcomed in next marveling a sleeveless pink suit with ruby jeans making many of the capital audience to swoon over his physeigue. Even Camilia was taken aback by his charm and confidence as he spoke about his training experience and the strength of his alliance with Jacqueline. His witty remarks and easygoing demeanor captivated the audience, earning him loud applause and admiration.
Later on into the night brook was welcomed in next with wild cheers and wolf whistles sounding. With her hair being dyed a pure yellow with a light brown dress resembling sand following her. She proceeded to have the same amount of banter with Camilia as Jacqueline did however Camilia cut her off as she was finshing up talking about her dads money saying “Honey this is the hunger games.”
“Yeah and Ill live how I like before the games.”
As a few jeers sounded the rest of her interview was rather dull the only light being Camilia shooing the “Regina George” of the stage. As Camila then called Harbor loud cheers sounded again as Harbor walked on to the stage with his curly black hair and brown eyes making him quite attrauctive to many even his pirate themed coustume became an over night sensation with many fashion designers stating that they wanted this fashionable suit.
As Camilia asked Harbor about the games becoming pleased with his short but sweet responses. Even cracking some good jokes about the other competitors mainly about Bloom from 7 and Mateo from 10 . To conclude Harbor’s inteviwed he tossed his waist coat to teh crowd as an excited gagle of captial ladies clammered for this waist coat. As his interview ended on a high. Finaly after the interview of the boy from 14 the new head game maker Natellia Swan was welcomed to the stage. Head game maker swan was adorned in a regal black gown also sporting garish make up making her resmble more of ghost then human. After introducing herself to the excited capital audience Camila smiled before shaking her hand saying that “Game maker swan has alot to accept from.” She laughed before giving hint out to teh audience by pointing to both of the laides dresses. Curious osund sof inteirgue soon followed as game maker swan smiled and bowed as she then left the stage as Camilia then ended the interviews there. The next morning tributes were given a breif breakefst before being brought to the arena’s holding room.
This years outfits consisted of black coats with black jeans and snakers with there distristicts nymbers stickered on the back of there coats. Realm visited Facet before reminding him to stick with Jacqueline and Harbor and Brook. However before Realm finished Facet replied “That girl Brook might be problem.” Realm nodded and agreed before reminding him to keep an eye on her before shaking his hand as he went into his tube. Jacqueline was visited by Quintin the pair had a similar conversation as Realm did with Facet before Jacqueline embraced Quintin and thanked him joking “District 1 needs more ladys.” Quintin laughed before hugging her back before walking Jacqueline to her tube. As for Brook she was not visited by Sienna nor Orvilve a fact that suprised her the most but shrugged before patiently puting her hair up in a bun and waiting for the tribute call to sound. As for Harbor Sienna visted him. She embacred Harbor before reminding him to “ Keep an eye on all of them.”
Harbor smiled before thanking Sienna for her mentor ship before Sienna walked Harbor to his tube his tube and at mid day the podiums then arose into the arena.
Arena Ghosty lake Game 114
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