Weave with invisible part
Fibromyalgia - An Optimistic but Realistic Support Group
2009.04.18 10:29 LisaHellen Fibromyalgia - An Optimistic but Realistic Support Group
An optimistic but realistic support group.
2009.11.24 06:14 zakool21 Learn and teach the Korean language.
We're here to learn, study, and practice the Korean language.
2015.04.24 03:15 facklestix Hybrid Humans
A real place to create fake people.
2024.05.18 13:59 Yurii_S_Kh The Icon of the Most Holy Mother of God, “The Inexhaustible Cup”
 | A wonderful healing has been given to us through your holy icon, O Sovereign Lady Theotokos. By its appearance we have been delivered from spiritual and physical ills, and from sorrowful circumstances. We therefore offer our thankful praise to you, O merciful Protectress. submitted by Yurii_S_Kh to SophiaWisdomOfGod [link] [comments] From the akathist to the Icon of the Mother of God, “The Inexhaustible Cup” “The Inexhaustible Cup” wonderworking icon of the Holy Theotokos The excellent Russian author Ivan Sergeyevich Shmelev (1873-1950) who wrote much about everyday life of pious Orthodox people of the pre-Revolution Russia, described, among other things, the veneration of the wonderworking Icon of the Mother of God “The Inexhaustible Cup” which appeared in 1878 in Serpukhov (a town some 100 kilometers/c.62 miles south of Moscow) and kept at Vladychny Convent of the Entry of the Mother of God into the Temple. This is an extract from that work: “…Peasant wagons move towards the convent along forest tracks. Exhausted women bring their near and dear from hundreds of miles away: raving, yelling with savage voices, men of bestial appearance try to release themselves from ropes. “The Inexhaustible Cup” heals the disease of drunkenness. Those who have lost their human appearance gaze at the indescribable Icon with their maddened eyes, not understanding What and Who She is—She Who radiantly looks at them with a golden chalice, bright, and drawing them to Herself—and they calm down. And while quiet young girls in white headscarves carry it and sing with joyful voices, thousands of those whose souls suffer and seek consolation fall down beneath it to the dirty ground. Unseeing, inflamed eyes stare at the bright icon with wild looks and cry excitedly, “I give up alcoholism (I promise to give up)!” Hysterical women writhe and utter curses, tearing their blouses… and in excitement fix their gaze on the eyes that draw attention to themselves. Betrothed couples come and hang pink ribbons—an earnest of happiness. Young mothers bring their first-born children, and the icon looks joyfully at them. What draws all of them to her nobody can explain—no one has found the words to express their inward feelings. I only feel that joy enters the soul.”In his marvelous story with the same name Shmelev told one of the legends associated with “The Inexhaustible Cup” Icon, according to which a serf master named Ilia had painted this icon. The official history is silent about this, but it is this story that the wonderworking icon owes its fame, though, first of all, it is its miraculous power to heal alcoholism. In our troubled times, as it was a century ago, hundreds and thousands of people are flocking to Serpukhov and praying for healing. The gifts of the Christians who were healed from this sickness, their children and other family members, with which the pedestal of the icon is covered, are more precious than all golden settings. Today pilgrims are spreading the healing oil from icon lamps of the wonderworking icon along with the water which is blessed during prayer services all over Russia. Monasteries and convents from time immemorial were sources of that holy and mysterious peace, which every suffering Christian soul always sought after. Such was the Vladychny monastic community of the Entry of the Mother of God into the Temple in Serpukhov, which was founded in 1360 at the border of then the Principality of Moscow, at the confluence of the rivers Nara and Oka. The latter river was called “the belt of the Mother of God” because it separated and protected Holy Rus’ from the wild steppe, “amid a pine grove and mansion-like red wood.” From the first days of its existence the invisible streams of grace spread from here to all parts of Russia. Initially it was a monastery for men, established during the abbacy of Venerable Varlaam, a former assistant of the Holy Metropolitan Alexis of Moscow. It was also under the spiritual care of St. Sergius of Radonezh. The chronicles relate that the great Abbot of the Russian Land (that is, St. Sergius) came here at the beginning of winter 1374 together with his disciple, Venerable Athanasius, and prayed at the cathedral of Vladychny Monastery, built of white stone. The legend of the foundation of this monastery also mentions a miraculous apparition of the Most Pure Virgin to Venerable Varlaam: “The vision showed to the builder that even angels would help him in his labors of building the church and preserve the monastery, that the Queen of Heaven Herself would dwell in this church as She had been present in the Temple of Jerusalem.” And several centuries later this promise was fully fulfilled. https://preview.redd.it/pslfjrwjc61d1.png?width=700&format=png&auto=webp&s=759417630476ce25db6a52ba256aaff626a4360e By the end of the eighteenth century Vladychny Monastery was declining and decaying. The services all but stopped, the scanty brethren dispersed, and the churches were falling into ruin. However, Metropolitan Platon (Levshin; 1737-1812) of Moscow, through whose efforts the spiritual prosperity of the great Optina and other monasteries began, did not forget Vladychny Monastery either—it was near this monastery that he had spent his childhood. The metropolitan obtained the permission of emperor Alexander I (1777-1825) to re-establish this monastic community as a nunnery and in 1806 first nuns came to live there. A quarter of a century later, another great archpastor, Holy Hierarch Philaret (Drozdov; 1782-1867) of Moscow introduced the strict ancient rules of desert community life into the convent. Thus he restored the spirit of monastic disdain for riches (“nestyazhanye” – “non-acquisitiveness” in Russian) and providentially prepared the convent to receive such a holy shrine as “The Inexhaustible Cup” Icon. In the first year of the abbacy of Abbess Maria, namely in 1878, a peasant of the Tula province—a retired soldier who had a passion for alcohol for many years—in a vision saw a certain elder who commanded him to go to Serpukhov, to find the Icon “The Inexhaustible Cup” and to hold the a supplicatory prayer service before it. The old, penniless soldier, exhausted by his hard drinking, had absolutely no strength to go to Serpukhov. Soon the vision occurred again and the poor elderly soldier literally crawled to the convent on all fours. On the very first night of his ascetic journey the man suddenly felt that his legs began to obey him again. Reaching the convent, he put its nuns to confusion as they knew nothing of the icon with this name. Then they remembered that an icon hung in one of the convent passages: on it the Infant Christ blesses the worshippers as if coming from a chalice for Communion; behind Him the Mother of God raises Her most pure hands—in the same manner as on icons of “The Sign”. Everybody was greatly amazed when they saw the inscription “The Inexhaustible Cup” on the back of the icon! Remarkably, when the man came up to the shrine of St. Varlaam, he at once recognized in him the holy elder who had appeared to him in the vision and commanded to go to the Mother of God for healing from alcoholism. The news of the wondrous miracle rapidly spread over many towns and villages: from everywhere those possessed with this terrible passion flocked to the miracle-working icon, venerated “The Inexhaustible Cup” and gave up drinking; thus peace and quiet began to reign in their homes—and all this was through the prayers of the Protectress of the mankind. https://preview.redd.it/cptdyktnc61d1.png?width=640&format=png&auto=webp&s=bfd087f0555dfebacb18c1cbd4778fc2c13b920d The tradition of this miracle-working icon explains that, “The Inexhaustible Cup” is, according to the akathist, “the one who draws up joy from the source of immortality,” the source of consolation, healing, life and various spiritual gifts and happiness. And let everybody see the hidden spiritual meaning in the fact that “The Inexhaustible Cup” Icon became a source of saving hopes and cures from the wicked passion of alcoholism: the Mother of God is praying for every single sinner; She, the merciful one, knows the suffering of those who give themselves over to debauchery, knows how strong is the desire of many of them to rid themselves of this brutal vice, but cannot find strength to struggle. So the Most Pure Virgin reminds them through Her holy Icon “The Inexhaustible Cup” that She is the inexhaustible wellspring of grace and spiritual joy, that She pours out from Her ever-inexhaustible cup heavenly delight into their withered hearts; drinking of it, they will begin to hate that ruinous liquid which once invincibly attracted them to itself. Such sufferers at any time and in every place should resort to the all-powerful intercession of the Most Pure Virgin, making it the rule to read the angelic salutation, “Theotokos Virgin, rejoice” at least three times a day. No matter how deeply rooted the cursed passion of drunkenness may be, it cannot withstand the gracious help of the Holy Theotokos. Troparion tone 4: Today we faithful come to the divine and miraculous Icon of the Most Holy Theotokos, who fills the faithful from the Inexhaustible Cup of her mercy and shows them great miracles; and we who have seen them and heard of them rejoice in our heart and cry out, with deep feeling and devotion: O all-merciful sovereign Lady, heal our ills and our passions by praying to thy Son, Christ our God, that He may save our souls! Amen. Nadezhda Dmitrieva From the book, We Rejoice In Thee |
2024.05.18 13:14 Ok-Tomorrow9184 Gemini Gets Plato and Humor
Prompt
Create a Platonic dialogue between an optimistic creative visionary (OCV), a pessimistic observant doomsayer (POD), an objective meticulous analyzer (OMA), a wise pragmatic planner (WPP), and God (G).
Question: "What is love? (Baby don't hurt me!)"
Output: Gemini Advanced
Scene: A round table discussion in a heavenly cloud-filled room.Characters:
- OCV (Optimistic Creative Visionary): A radiant figure with sparkling eyes, overflowing with enthusiasm.
- POD (Pessimistic Observant Doomsayer): A dour figure, hunched over with arms crossed, muttering under their breath.
- OMA (Objective Meticulous Analyzer): A composed figure with a notepad, diligently taking notes.
- WPP (Wise Pragmatic Planner): A serene figure with a thoughtful expression, occasionally stroking their beard.
- G (God): A luminous being radiating warmth and light, a gentle smile on their face.
OCV: (Beaming) Love! It's the most beautiful, powerful force in the universe! It's the inspiration behind every creation, every act of kindness, every connection between souls. It's the spark of life itself!
POD: (Scoffs) Love? Please. It's nothing but a fleeting illusion, a biological trick to propagate the species. It leads to heartbreak, betrayal, and endless suffering.
OMA: (Clearing their throat) From a purely objective standpoint, love is a complex interplay of neurochemicals and hormonal responses. It's associated with increased dopamine, oxytocin, and vasopressin levels, resulting in feelings of pleasure, bonding, and attachment.
WPP: (Nods) While those physiological aspects are certainly relevant, love is also a choice, a commitment to nurture and cherish another being. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to compromise.
G: (Smiles) You all speak truths, but love is so much more than the sum of its parts. It's a mystery that transcends definitions and explanations.
OCV: (Eagerly) It's like a symphony of emotions, a kaleidoscope of experiences!
POD: (Mutters) More like a chaotic cacophony of pain and disappointment.
OMA: (Scribbling) An intriguing paradox, indeed. Love can both uplift and destroy, create and consume.
WPP: (Shrugs) That's why it's crucial to approach love with wisdom and discernment.
G: (Raises a hand) My children, remember that love is a gift, a divine spark within each of you. It is the essence of who I am.
OCV: (Clasps hands) It's the most precious gift of all!
POD: (Sighs) A gift that often comes with a hefty price tag.
OMA: (Nods) A gift that warrants further investigation and analysis.
WPP: (Smiles) A gift that deserves to be cherished and protected.
G: (Chuckles) Indeed. So, go forth and share this gift with the world. Let love guide your actions, inspire your creativity, and heal your wounds.
(The figures nod in unison, a sense of understanding and purpose dawning upon them.)
G: (Softly) And remember, baby don't hurt me... don't hurt me... no more.
(A faint echo of laughter fills the room as the figures disperse, leaving behind a lingering warmth.)
Output: ChatGPT-4o
Dialogue: What is Love? (Baby don't hurt me!)POD: (sighs) You paint such a rosy picture, OCV, but let’s not ignore the shadows. Love, in its purest form, can bring immense pain and suffering. It can lead to heartache, betrayal, and the deepest of sorrows. Love is a double-edged sword.
OMA: Both of you present compelling views. If we examine love objectively, we find that it is a complex biochemical and psychological phenomenon. It involves a range of emotions, behaviors, and physiological responses. From a scientific perspective, love is the interplay of hormones like oxytocin and dopamine, influencing our mood and behavior.
WPP: Let’s balance these perspectives with a touch of pragmatism. Love is indeed multifaceted. It can be a powerful motivator, fostering connections and collaboration, but it also requires careful nurturing and realistic expectations. We must plan and manage our relationships to harness the positive aspects of love while mitigating the risks of hurt.
G: (smiling) Ah, love. It is a concept that transcends the mortal experience, yet it is intrinsic to it. Love is both the simplest and most profound of experiences. It is the thread that weaves the fabric of the universe, connecting all beings. Love is not just an emotion or a biochemical reaction; it is the very essence of creation and existence. It holds the potential for boundless joy and deep learning. Love, in its truest form, is unconditional and everlasting.
OCV: See, love is the light that guides us all!
POD: But remember, even light can cast shadows.
OMA: Therefore, love must be understood and approached with both heart and mind.
WPP: Precisely. We should embrace love's potential while being mindful of its complexities. Planning and wisdom can help us navigate its challenges.
G: Indeed, my children. Love is a journey, a lesson, and a gift. Cherish it, learn from it, and let it guide you toward your highest selves.
2024.05.18 13:13 Ok-Tomorrow9184 Gemini Gets Plato and Humor
Prompt
Create a Platonic dialogue between an optimistic creative visionary (OCV), a pessimistic observant doomsayer (POD), an objective meticulous analyzer (OMA), a wise pragmatic planner (WPP), and God (G).
Question: "What is love? (Baby don't hurt me!)"
Output: Gemini Advanced
Scene: A round table discussion in a heavenly cloud-filled room.Characters:
- OCV (Optimistic Creative Visionary): A radiant figure with sparkling eyes, overflowing with enthusiasm.
- POD (Pessimistic Observant Doomsayer): A dour figure, hunched over with arms crossed, muttering under their breath.
- OMA (Objective Meticulous Analyzer): A composed figure with a notepad, diligently taking notes.
- WPP (Wise Pragmatic Planner): A serene figure with a thoughtful expression, occasionally stroking their beard.
- G (God): A luminous being radiating warmth and light, a gentle smile on their face.
OCV: (Beaming) Love! It's the most beautiful, powerful force in the universe! It's the inspiration behind every creation, every act of kindness, every connection between souls. It's the spark of life itself!
POD: (Scoffs) Love? Please. It's nothing but a fleeting illusion, a biological trick to propagate the species. It leads to heartbreak, betrayal, and endless suffering.
OMA: (Clearing their throat) From a purely objective standpoint, love is a complex interplay of neurochemicals and hormonal responses. It's associated with increased dopamine, oxytocin, and vasopressin levels, resulting in feelings of pleasure, bonding, and attachment.
WPP: (Nods) While those physiological aspects are certainly relevant, love is also a choice, a commitment to nurture and cherish another being. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to compromise.
G: (Smiles) You all speak truths, but love is so much more than the sum of its parts. It's a mystery that transcends definitions and explanations.
OCV: (Eagerly) It's like a symphony of emotions, a kaleidoscope of experiences!
POD: (Mutters) More like a chaotic cacophony of pain and disappointment.
OMA: (Scribbling) An intriguing paradox, indeed. Love can both uplift and destroy, create and consume.
WPP: (Shrugs) That's why it's crucial to approach love with wisdom and discernment.
G: (Raises a hand) My children, remember that love is a gift, a divine spark within each of you. It is the essence of who I am.
OCV: (Clasps hands) It's the most precious gift of all!
POD: (Sighs) A gift that often comes with a hefty price tag.
OMA: (Nods) A gift that warrants further investigation and analysis.
WPP: (Smiles) A gift that deserves to be cherished and protected.
G: (Chuckles) Indeed. So, go forth and share this gift with the world. Let love guide your actions, inspire your creativity, and heal your wounds.
(The figures nod in unison, a sense of understanding and purpose dawning upon them.)
G: (Softly) And remember, baby don't hurt me... don't hurt me... no more.
(A faint echo of laughter fills the room as the figures disperse, leaving behind a lingering warmth.)
Output: ChatGPT-4o
Dialogue: What is Love? (Baby don't hurt me!)POD: (sighs) You paint such a rosy picture, OCV, but let’s not ignore the shadows. Love, in its purest form, can bring immense pain and suffering. It can lead to heartache, betrayal, and the deepest of sorrows. Love is a double-edged sword.
OMA: Both of you present compelling views. If we examine love objectively, we find that it is a complex biochemical and psychological phenomenon. It involves a range of emotions, behaviors, and physiological responses. From a scientific perspective, love is the interplay of hormones like oxytocin and dopamine, influencing our mood and behavior.
WPP: Let’s balance these perspectives with a touch of pragmatism. Love is indeed multifaceted. It can be a powerful motivator, fostering connections and collaboration, but it also requires careful nurturing and realistic expectations. We must plan and manage our relationships to harness the positive aspects of love while mitigating the risks of hurt.
G: (smiling) Ah, love. It is a concept that transcends the mortal experience, yet it is intrinsic to it. Love is both the simplest and most profound of experiences. It is the thread that weaves the fabric of the universe, connecting all beings. Love is not just an emotion or a biochemical reaction; it is the very essence of creation and existence. It holds the potential for boundless joy and deep learning. Love, in its truest form, is unconditional and everlasting.
OCV: See, love is the light that guides us all!
POD: But remember, even light can cast shadows.
OMA: Therefore, love must be understood and approached with both heart and mind.
WPP: Precisely. We should embrace love's potential while being mindful of its complexities. Planning and wisdom can help us navigate its challenges.
G: Indeed, my children. Love is a journey, a lesson, and a gift. Cherish it, learn from it, and let it guide you toward your highest selves.
2024.05.18 13:13 Ok-Tomorrow9184 Gemini Gets Plato and Humor
Prompt
Create a Platonic dialogue between an optimistic creative visionary (OCV), a pessimistic observant doomsayer (POD), an objective meticulous analyzer (OMA), a wise pragmatic planner (WPP), and God (G).
Question: "What is love? (Baby don't hurt me!)"
Output: Gemini Advanced
Scene: A round table discussion in a heavenly cloud-filled room.Characters:
- OCV (Optimistic Creative Visionary): A radiant figure with sparkling eyes, overflowing with enthusiasm.
- POD (Pessimistic Observant Doomsayer): A dour figure, hunched over with arms crossed, muttering under their breath.
- OMA (Objective Meticulous Analyzer): A composed figure with a notepad, diligently taking notes.
- WPP (Wise Pragmatic Planner): A serene figure with a thoughtful expression, occasionally stroking their beard.
- G (God): A luminous being radiating warmth and light, a gentle smile on their face.
OCV: (Beaming) Love! It's the most beautiful, powerful force in the universe! It's the inspiration behind every creation, every act of kindness, every connection between souls. It's the spark of life itself!
POD: (Scoffs) Love? Please. It's nothing but a fleeting illusion, a biological trick to propagate the species. It leads to heartbreak, betrayal, and endless suffering.
OMA: (Clearing their throat) From a purely objective standpoint, love is a complex interplay of neurochemicals and hormonal responses. It's associated with increased dopamine, oxytocin, and vasopressin levels, resulting in feelings of pleasure, bonding, and attachment.
WPP: (Nods) While those physiological aspects are certainly relevant, love is also a choice, a commitment to nurture and cherish another being. It requires patience, understanding, and a willingness to compromise.
G: (Smiles) You all speak truths, but love is so much more than the sum of its parts. It's a mystery that transcends definitions and explanations.
OCV: (Eagerly) It's like a symphony of emotions, a kaleidoscope of experiences!
POD: (Mutters) More like a chaotic cacophony of pain and disappointment.
OMA: (Scribbling) An intriguing paradox, indeed. Love can both uplift and destroy, create and consume.
WPP: (Shrugs) That's why it's crucial to approach love with wisdom and discernment.
G: (Raises a hand) My children, remember that love is a gift, a divine spark within each of you. It is the essence of who I am.
OCV: (Clasps hands) It's the most precious gift of all!
POD: (Sighs) A gift that often comes with a hefty price tag.
OMA: (Nods) A gift that warrants further investigation and analysis.
WPP: (Smiles) A gift that deserves to be cherished and protected.
G: (Chuckles) Indeed. So, go forth and share this gift with the world. Let love guide your actions, inspire your creativity, and heal your wounds.
(The figures nod in unison, a sense of understanding and purpose dawning upon them.)
G: (Softly) And remember, baby don't hurt me... don't hurt me... no more.
(A faint echo of laughter fills the room as the figures disperse, leaving behind a lingering warmth.)
Output: ChatGPT-4o
Dialogue: What is Love? (Baby don't hurt me!)POD: (sighs) You paint such a rosy picture, OCV, but let’s not ignore the shadows. Love, in its purest form, can bring immense pain and suffering. It can lead to heartache, betrayal, and the deepest of sorrows. Love is a double-edged sword.
OMA: Both of you present compelling views. If we examine love objectively, we find that it is a complex biochemical and psychological phenomenon. It involves a range of emotions, behaviors, and physiological responses. From a scientific perspective, love is the interplay of hormones like oxytocin and dopamine, influencing our mood and behavior.
WPP: Let’s balance these perspectives with a touch of pragmatism. Love is indeed multifaceted. It can be a powerful motivator, fostering connections and collaboration, but it also requires careful nurturing and realistic expectations. We must plan and manage our relationships to harness the positive aspects of love while mitigating the risks of hurt.
G: (smiling) Ah, love. It is a concept that transcends the mortal experience, yet it is intrinsic to it. Love is both the simplest and most profound of experiences. It is the thread that weaves the fabric of the universe, connecting all beings. Love is not just an emotion or a biochemical reaction; it is the very essence of creation and existence. It holds the potential for boundless joy and deep learning. Love, in its truest form, is unconditional and everlasting.
OCV: See, love is the light that guides us all!
POD: But remember, even light can cast shadows.
OMA: Therefore, love must be understood and approached with both heart and mind.
WPP: Precisely. We should embrace love's potential while being mindful of its complexities. Planning and wisdom can help us navigate its challenges.
G: Indeed, my children. Love is a journey, a lesson, and a gift. Cherish it, learn from it, and let it guide you toward your highest selves.
2024.05.18 13:10 Not-explaining eFootball wishlist to Konami (r/pesmobile)
eFootball gameplay seem to be going in a bad direction for the past months. To much AI defending/assistance/game balancing, game adding input lag, interceptions, poor passing, fouls not called for, hot potato football not rewarding any type of skillful play. The gameplay feels like its on rails, freedom is gone, players don't respond to your inputs and chances are created by either teams AI players mistakes or incredibly stupid runs. It's just not fun to play anymore. Neither online or vs AI.
eFootball could be fantastic if Konami would listen to ideas, criticism and improve. Here is my wishlist. Feedback based on me and the kids playing on PS4, PS5 and mobile. Offline and online.
I guess Konami calculates profits are better by pushing all players to online play. But at the same time they are neglecting the player group which prefers offline, and are willing to buy coins to get their favourite players cards. Hopefully Konami will reconsider, add a proper Master League and more offline modes with co-op and PvP.
All in all it should result in a more enjoyable experience for both ballers, casuals, squad-builders, card-collectors and those who just want offline couch co-op or PvP with their Dream team. More people having fun and spending time in the game usually results in praise, recommendations and growing user count = more coins spent. Konami keeps earning and customer base is happy. Everyone wins.
/ Cheers and thanks for reading
(This post is continously edited)
https://preview.redd.it/k4gl1sw8z51d1.jpg?width=731&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e99aba57f1ea3678f5d722365604e52ec97edfb4
submitted by Not-explaining to pesmobile [link] [comments]
eFootball could be fantastic if Konami would listen to ideas, criticism and improve. Here is my wishlist. Feedback based on me and the kids playing on PS4, PS5 and mobile. Offline and online.
- Reduce the heavy AI assistance / game-balancing / handholding / Auto defending / Dynamic Difficulty / momentum / whatchamacallit (scr...). I understand its for getting new players staying in the game, having a chance getting coins in the events and winning games. And perhaps make games more non-predictable "anything can happen, maybe". With the current AI handholding level its "anything will happen, constantly". So many chances are created by either teams AI players making mistakes or just making incredibly stupid runs, its like a badly scripted B-movie. The amount of goalpost hits and missed open goals is just silly currently, this goes on until the last few minutes of each match. Please reduce it, or even remove it from Co-op and other game modes where skill should be rewarded. I'd rather get smashed 15-0 and learn from a good player. Than having to play another game with: added input lag and your players turn, react with 0,5 sec delay / 1 team loses every header / 4 shots in goalpost / own goals / missed open goals from 2-3m consequently, instead you have to run the ball into goal!!! / hide n seek players with pass receiver running away from the ball positioning behind defender / every ball intercepted / misdirected passes / every pass straight to other team / passes goes through "invisible" player / player freezing or even running wrong direction vs your stick / opponent attacking with high punt or lofted pass but your defender running past the ball towards opposition goal / ball glued to opposite player in the box / every attempt clearing the ball goes short distance straight to other team, even goalie high punt / all stunning shots 3m over the goal before 85min + all the other crap that's in there. This gameplay on rails is so unrewarding. If I manage to do something skillfull the AI assistance just kills the opportunity with any means. When the AI assistance takes a break, I get an easy goal with no effort from a random through pass + tap in. Many times I can't tell if I am playing well or the game has decided I should win/lose, it kills the joy for me and it's just boring. If Konami could tone down all the weird punishments I'd be very grateful.
- Passing and interceptions. Currently worst ever IMO. Game just decides your pass from a player in balance is 90-180 degrees of straight to opponent. Even on Beginner AI and no matter PA1, 2 or 3😂 And the constant interceptions. No flow in the game. Please work on this Konami.
- Remove the artificial input-lag. (This is a controversial one, some players simply don't believe our experience it. For me it's obvious as it can be tested offline in several ways on PS5, on mobile I havent tried to confirm it) Stop punishing one side with artificial input lag which make the gameplay feel heavy, unresponsive and your players turn & react with 0,5 sec delay. This is not from server lag as it's there in AI matches and local Trial matches as well, just switch controller between team 1 & 2 and feel the difference. It might activate from beginning of game, or in 2nd half, usually when you are doing well. And vice versa it can dissapear in 2nd half. From my experience it can be reduced or removed by switching playstyle. When finding the right playstyle for that specific match, your players suddenly become responsive again, it can even happen after switching to lowest Manager profiency. I assume its part of the game balancing mechanics. For me this is one of the worst things in the current game, when it kicks in your players don't respond to inputs in time and gameplay just feels awful.
- Fix the player freezing. Example: after losing a header to last defender suddenly your attacker just freezes. What's going on here? Have Konami added to much AI handholding and broken the game? 😂😂😂
- Reward different playstyles like build up play. Currently most games seem to be high press, interception ping-pong, quick pass and no dribbles. Hot potato football. Holding the ball has become very difficult. Before the AI assistance and auto defending went berzerk, you could actually keep the ball for a second and do something creative. Without 3-5 guys surrounding your player with no options. Now the gameplay is boring with the lack of variety.
- Create a game mode free from AI assistance & artificial input lag. Just pure skill. It could be beta, division free or whatever just let us play without the heavy AI handholding. And maybe eFootball will be esports ready 😉. To be honest if another football game is released without momentum/game-balancing /added input-lag and with gameplay based on pure skill. I think eFootball will lose a lot of players.
- Add Dream team into Trial match. We have 2 kids who love the card collecting and building their team. But playing online is of no interest to them, and won't be in many years. They want to play local PvP or co-op but with their own Dream team. By now we are very tired of playing the same local play Trial match Argentina Vs PSG. The kids have almost stopped playing eFootball, since they cant play against each other with their own team. In addition this would be a great way to test out new players, builds and game mechanics together with a friend. Much more fun than training mode. This mode is what my family is missing most from this game. And if it would be a "pure" mode without any momentum/game-balancing things would be fantastic. Just pure skill, best player wins.
- Please add Dream team to Trial match local co-op Vs AI. Would be so much fun to test your Dream Team against the AI together with the kids or a friend on the couch beside you. Would love this mode if it would become available.
- Add local co-op in Events. Would be great if me and the kids could take on the events together. At least add it to the AI events. Then we would actually play them and not just sim them.
- Myleague local co-op. Add both local and online co-op into Myleague please. A reason to play it and win the league together with the kids 😀
- Make My League worth playing. 100.000GP for completing 38 matches and winning the league is very poor IMO. Add some skill trainers and raise the GP perhaps?
- Add all Goal Scorers, Assists and Passes made to Half Time and Full Time game stats. So we can quickly get the overview of which player cards performed well in both teams. That information would be highly appreciated.
- Contract renewal is way too expensive. Considering many players have paid plenty in real money to get the favourite players, and you only get to keep your player for 1 year. We are paying for this digital football Pokémon and we can't even use it as long as we would like. There should be more ways to get contract renewals, the periods should be longer, 3/6/9/12months and the price should be lower. Currently it's just irritating and another killing the fun factor.
- Make each playstyle worth using. And reward playing different type of formations. Instead of everyone using META 4 defenders and no wingers/LMF/RMF.
- Better & more expensive Point shop players. Can we please have some decent players? I'd gladly spend 50000-100000 pink points for a player if his stats are good. IMO there hasn't been an interesting player since Ferrer & Pires. Currently I don't see any use for points except contact renewal.
- Remove the GP cost for player reset. Having to wait for 2-3 months and then stressing for a few free weeks to retrain and test new builds doesn't make sense. GP is too valuable for me, I use it for Legacy Transfer and Contract renewal, and the few occasional GP buys for Events or hidden gems. I enjoy training players and trying out new builds, if free it would keep me logging in even when there is nothing else to do in the game.
- Reduce the cost for Legacy transfer. Getting your wanted skills and then transferring to your favourite player is one of the game aspects I really like. But 257,000 GP for one transfer is a lot and takes away much of the fun in Legacy transfer. You get 1 Mbappe for less than 2 Legacy transfer. I am always low on GP these days, and I think 100,000-150,000 GP would be reasonable for Legacy transfer for 1 skill.
- Legacy transfer of skills to POTW cards. If we could add 1-2 skills to the POTW the cards would be more interesting and I'd spend more coins spinning. We would get more varied and unpredictable squads instead of everybody using the same players. Most players know the good cards, what to expect from opponents cards and how to counter. Lets say you add some strong passing or shooting skills to a player usually weak in that aspect. The unpredicability would be awesome!
- Replace/delete added skills. Building players would be much more fun if I could replace a trained skill with another one using legacy transfer. Or just be able to delete an added skill. Perhaps my playstyle changes and I want Neymar to have Through passing instead of the previously added Long-range shooting.
- GP an option for pack spins. But it shouldn't be easy. Hard grind should be rewarded as it gives a reason to play the game. I am thinking 7,5M GP you get 75 spins in a 150 pack. That takes perhaps 6 months to grind. And perhaps the remaining 75 spins is coins only. Lower thresholds like 10 spins för 1M GP would be great but I understand its not gonna happen, as it would hurt the coin sales.
- Remove the 500 player cap or reduce cost of adding player slots. If you are grinding skill trainers with 0GP players and training players the 500 fills up quite easily. Or reduce the 500.000GP for an extra 50 players to maybe 100.000GP. This 500 player limit is very annoying and seems unnecessary.
- Add skill trainers and position trainers to each match pass. Would make the Match Pass way more interesting and I would spend coins.
- Make it worthwhile playing League / divisions. Currently I don't see much reason to play it. A few skill trainers and low GP reward can't motivate me spending the time.
- Find a way to prevent players from forfeiting games, at least events and co-op. Maybe if you are down a few goals sometimes add a random bonus like score with player X to receive 1 skill trainer, 10000 GP or something. Just to motivate players completing the match. Or create a non forfeit streak, like 10, 20 or 30 games without forfeit and you get an free extra POTW spin. (Credit: Part of this idea is from eFootball Universe Youtube)
- 1st celebration should also be skippable. It's just time consuming in online games. Not adding any value to except maybe noobs who scored their first goal ever.
- An option to make Sub tactic clearly visible in Game plan if activated. I played to many games now without knowing I had sub-tactic activated 😂
- Matchmaking. This was good for a while after the matchmaking update, but not anymore. There must be something seriously wrong here. When playing in Division 9 to 7, we constantly get division 1-2 opponents in the events. Had top 120 and top 200 in a row even. 750M downloads and nobody else playing. Really?
- The daily penalty needs an upgrade. Suggestion: More fun If I could choose player from my Dream Team. And add random Epic goalies to spice it up 😉
- Add statistics of headers, penalties and free kicks scored on each player card. This would add value and make it more interesting building squads. Konami you have the data, use it!
- More variety in Events. BBVA, Turkish, Brazilian Italian, English, Japan league. Over and over and over... Cmon Konami create something different so we can rotate our squads more. Suggestion: An event where only max 4 star players are allowed? Or higher GP rewards the weaker squad you use? (Credit: idea is partly from Rockchok Youtube)
- More Beat the Clock type of events. Both me and the kids enjoyed this one. Create something similar for skill moves. Example: Perform 5 Double touch + 5 Marseille turn across pitch with fixed dummies or defending players. Or a sequence where you have to perform skill move x and y before scoring.
- Objectives with extra bonuses. Add weekly objectives or similar. Score a hat-trick, win on penalties or score 5 times using skill move. And get some type of rewards, GP, Skill trainers, Position trainers, avatars, whatever just variety and something to play for.
- Co-op events. So much potential but the gameplay on rails, AI assistance and the constant random AI punishments kills the fun for me. You feel almost instantly if the AI assistance is on your side or against you. Either everything goes your way and it's too easy or Epics can't make a simple pass, the input lag kicks in and your player is even dragged out of position so the other team can score. Every game feels pre-decided with almost every touch being a mistake or fumble by the team who is supposed to concede a goal. Or its 1 goal back and forth with short sequences where the conceeding team can't touch the ball. In my experience the AI assistance is at its worst in the Co-op games. Quite easy to spot as players regularly just drop the controller. And game continues to auto defend like prime AC Milan, the non-active player is forcefielded holding the ball, every ball in the box is magically sucked to defenders feet and passes and clearings going 90-180 degrees off straight to opponent. Recent example which has happened in several co-op games: Goalie makes several stupid run outs to a perfect 4 man defending line, leaving the net wide open. Changing goalie doesn't help. Same thing with 2nd goalie until opponent gets his 2 goals. Sorry but when my player, gameplay and result is controlled by AI instead of me and my teammate I lose interest.
- Add 2nd local player to co-op events. Why can't 2 players join the co-op events together from one Playstation? Me and the kids would play co-op events a lot if this was possbile.
- Booster player forms. Wirtz card and several other are never on A-form. Whats the point of creating a booster card then? (credit: PES Pepe Youtube)
- Communication. Info on gameplay changes in each update would be appreciated. Like before. (credit: PES Pepe Youtube))
- Heavy first touch or fumble receiving the ball. +90 Ball control player cant receive a pass without starting to fumble or needing several seconds to gain control, then losing the ball, again and again and again. Does stats even matter when game balancing just decides anyway?
- Don't launch Crossplay with mobile. I suspect the recent braindead heavy assisted gameplay is needed for upcoming crossplay console & mobile update. This might be what we are getting. Gameplay on rails, autodefend, no skill, unrewarding, boring. I hope I am wrong and the previous fun gameplay on console is not gone forever 😢.
- Master League? Promised some years ago. I guess it does not generate enough coin sales?
- Edit mode. Create a custom crest and kits for our dream team.
- AI games are boring and inconsistent. Even on easier difficulties the dynamic game balancing makes you miss so many chances in 1st half, open goals whatever. Then in 2nd its just walk the ball into box and quick shot goal. But if you decide to pass the ball in the box then it's magnet to defender, why not reward passing in the box? The inconsistency in the AI is just bad. And the coding seems lazy. I watch our 11 year old play and do all the right things, but the game just kills all her self-created chances. On harder difficulties even if I read the play and position perfectly to intercept a pass, the pass goes straight through my defender. And adding to that the constant interceptions and not being able to hold ball more than 0.3sec. To my understanding the AI was better before without having to bypass game mechanics (cheat), instead it was actually playing smarter. For me playing the AI is either to easy once the early game "Thou shall not score" wears off or just boring on higher difficulties. How hard is it to develop AI gameplay which is both fun, rewarding and teaching how to play better?
- Player speed is broken. The slowest defender will catch up in 2-3 seconds with any attacker running with the ball. No matter stats of players. You make a great pass but this broken game mechanic ruins the opportunity. This is both unrealistic and highly unrewarding.
- Player switching. Another game mechanic which seems broken and with hidden punishments added. I have mostly been using semi-assist and player oriented switching, R stick to switch. Recently switched to ball-oriented. And in my experience. When the game is against you, it constantly punishes you with bad player switching and worst default player selection. Many times the game refuses to switch to player in front of ball when I am trying to defend. Instead I am flicking through the guys behind the attacking player, while I am trying to get control of my defender. When I have free kick against me, default player is always the worst possible option eg. my CF standing 10m behind the free kick taker. Why? I enjoy a challenge but having to fight with my controller is not one of them.
- Sort player list by team name. Would help when choosing team for events. And a nice feature when browsing all my players.
- Position trainers. This feature was a nice addition. But can be improved and made more interesting. (A) Remove the possibility of getting duplicates on full position slots. It's just stupid and annoying. (B) Add random playstyle rewards on the new position. So an AMF Hole Player could also be SS Deep Lying Forward after Position training. (Credit: efNuts YouTube)
I guess Konami calculates profits are better by pushing all players to online play. But at the same time they are neglecting the player group which prefers offline, and are willing to buy coins to get their favourite players cards. Hopefully Konami will reconsider, add a proper Master League and more offline modes with co-op and PvP.
All in all it should result in a more enjoyable experience for both ballers, casuals, squad-builders, card-collectors and those who just want offline couch co-op or PvP with their Dream team. More people having fun and spending time in the game usually results in praise, recommendations and growing user count = more coins spent. Konami keeps earning and customer base is happy. Everyone wins.
/ Cheers and thanks for reading
(This post is continously edited)
https://preview.redd.it/k4gl1sw8z51d1.jpg?width=731&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=e99aba57f1ea3678f5d722365604e52ec97edfb4
2024.05.18 12:58 Alliejam1 ACIM WORKBOOK LESSON 139
LESSON 139. I will accept Atonement for myself.
Here is the end of choice. For here we come to a decision to accept ourselves as God created us. And what is choice except uncertainty of what we are? There is no doubt that is not rooted here. There is no question but reflects this one. There is no conflict that does not entail the single, simple question, “What am I?”
Yet who could ask this question except one who has refused to recognize himself? Only refusal to accept yourself could make the question seem to be sincere. The only thing that can be surely known by any living thing is what it is. From this one point of certainty, it looks on other things as certain as itself.
Uncertainty about what you must be is self-deception on a scale so vast, its magnitude can hardly be conceived. To be alive and not to know yourself is to believe that you are really dead. For what is life except to be yourself, and what but you can be alive instead? Who is the doubter? What is it he doubts? Whom does he question? Who can answer him?
He merely states that he is not himself, and therefore, being something else, becomes a questioner of what that something is. Yet he could never be alive at all unless he knew the answer. If he asks as if he does not know, it merely shows he does not want to be the thing he is. He has accepted it because he lives; has judged against it and denied its worth, and has decided that he does not know the only certainty by which he lives.
Thus he becomes uncertain of his life, for what it is has been denied by him. It is for this denial that you need Atonement. Your denial made no change in what you are. But you have split your mind into what knows and does not know the truth. You are yourself. There is no doubt of this. And yet you doubt it. But you do not ask what part of you can really doubt yourself. It cannot really be a part of you that asks this question. For it asks of one who knows the answer. Were it part of you, then certainty would be impossible.
Atonement remedies the strange idea that it is possible to doubt yourself, and be unsure of what you really are. This is the depth of madness. Yet it is the universal question of the world. What does this mean except the world is mad? Why share its madness in the sad belief that what is universal here is true?
Nothing the world believes is true. It is a place whose purpose is to be a home where those who claim they do not know themselves can come to question what it is they are. And they will come again until the time Atonement is accepted, and they learn it is impossible to doubt yourself, and not to be aware of what you are.
Only acceptance can be asked of you, for what you are is certain. It is set forever in the holy Mind of God, and in your own. It is so far beyond all doubt and question that to ask what it must be is all the proof you need to show that you believe the contradiction that you know not what you cannot fail to know. Is this a question, or a statement which denies itself in statement? Let us not allow our holy minds to occupy themselves with senseless musings such as this.
We have a mission here. We did not come to reinforce the madness that we once believed in. Let us not forget the goal that we accepted. It is more than just our happiness alone we came to gain. What we accept as what we are proclaims what everyone must be, along with us. Fail not your brothers, or you fail yourself. Look lovingly on them, that they may know that they are part of you, and you of them.
This does Atonement teach, and demonstrates the Oneness of God’s Son is unassailed by his belief he knows not what he is. Today accept Atonement, not to change reality, but merely to accept the truth about yourself, and go your way rejoicing in the endless Love of God. It is but this that we are asked to do. It is but this that we will do today.
Five minutes in the morning and at night we will devote to dedicate our minds to our assignment for today. We start with this review of what our mission is:
I will accept Atonement for myself, For I remain as God created me.
We have not lost the knowledge that God gave to us when He created us like Him. We can remember it for everyone, for in creation are all minds as one. And in our memory is the recall how dear our brothers are to us in truth, how much a part of us is every mind, how faithful they have really been to us, and how our Father’s Love contains them all. In thanks for all creation, in the Name of its Creator and His Oneness with all aspects of creation, we repeat our dedication to our cause today each hour, as we lay aside all thoughts that would distract us from our holy aim. For several minutes let your mind be cleared of all the foolish cobwebs which the world would weave around the holy Son of God. And learn the fragile nature of the chains that seem to keep the knowledge of yourself apart from your awareness, as you say:
I will accept Atonement for myself, For I remain as God created me.
submitted by Alliejam1 to ACIM [link] [comments]
Here is the end of choice. For here we come to a decision to accept ourselves as God created us. And what is choice except uncertainty of what we are? There is no doubt that is not rooted here. There is no question but reflects this one. There is no conflict that does not entail the single, simple question, “What am I?”
Yet who could ask this question except one who has refused to recognize himself? Only refusal to accept yourself could make the question seem to be sincere. The only thing that can be surely known by any living thing is what it is. From this one point of certainty, it looks on other things as certain as itself.
Uncertainty about what you must be is self-deception on a scale so vast, its magnitude can hardly be conceived. To be alive and not to know yourself is to believe that you are really dead. For what is life except to be yourself, and what but you can be alive instead? Who is the doubter? What is it he doubts? Whom does he question? Who can answer him?
He merely states that he is not himself, and therefore, being something else, becomes a questioner of what that something is. Yet he could never be alive at all unless he knew the answer. If he asks as if he does not know, it merely shows he does not want to be the thing he is. He has accepted it because he lives; has judged against it and denied its worth, and has decided that he does not know the only certainty by which he lives.
Thus he becomes uncertain of his life, for what it is has been denied by him. It is for this denial that you need Atonement. Your denial made no change in what you are. But you have split your mind into what knows and does not know the truth. You are yourself. There is no doubt of this. And yet you doubt it. But you do not ask what part of you can really doubt yourself. It cannot really be a part of you that asks this question. For it asks of one who knows the answer. Were it part of you, then certainty would be impossible.
Atonement remedies the strange idea that it is possible to doubt yourself, and be unsure of what you really are. This is the depth of madness. Yet it is the universal question of the world. What does this mean except the world is mad? Why share its madness in the sad belief that what is universal here is true?
Nothing the world believes is true. It is a place whose purpose is to be a home where those who claim they do not know themselves can come to question what it is they are. And they will come again until the time Atonement is accepted, and they learn it is impossible to doubt yourself, and not to be aware of what you are.
Only acceptance can be asked of you, for what you are is certain. It is set forever in the holy Mind of God, and in your own. It is so far beyond all doubt and question that to ask what it must be is all the proof you need to show that you believe the contradiction that you know not what you cannot fail to know. Is this a question, or a statement which denies itself in statement? Let us not allow our holy minds to occupy themselves with senseless musings such as this.
We have a mission here. We did not come to reinforce the madness that we once believed in. Let us not forget the goal that we accepted. It is more than just our happiness alone we came to gain. What we accept as what we are proclaims what everyone must be, along with us. Fail not your brothers, or you fail yourself. Look lovingly on them, that they may know that they are part of you, and you of them.
This does Atonement teach, and demonstrates the Oneness of God’s Son is unassailed by his belief he knows not what he is. Today accept Atonement, not to change reality, but merely to accept the truth about yourself, and go your way rejoicing in the endless Love of God. It is but this that we are asked to do. It is but this that we will do today.
Five minutes in the morning and at night we will devote to dedicate our minds to our assignment for today. We start with this review of what our mission is:
I will accept Atonement for myself, For I remain as God created me.
We have not lost the knowledge that God gave to us when He created us like Him. We can remember it for everyone, for in creation are all minds as one. And in our memory is the recall how dear our brothers are to us in truth, how much a part of us is every mind, how faithful they have really been to us, and how our Father’s Love contains them all. In thanks for all creation, in the Name of its Creator and His Oneness with all aspects of creation, we repeat our dedication to our cause today each hour, as we lay aside all thoughts that would distract us from our holy aim. For several minutes let your mind be cleared of all the foolish cobwebs which the world would weave around the holy Son of God. And learn the fragile nature of the chains that seem to keep the knowledge of yourself apart from your awareness, as you say:
I will accept Atonement for myself, For I remain as God created me.
2024.05.18 12:49 Doctor_of_Puns Jacob Boehme and the Secret Doctrine - William Q. Judge
Jacob Boehme (or as some say Behmen) was a German mystic and spiritualist who began to write in the 17th century. In his works he inserted a picture of an angel blowing a trumpet, from which issued these words: "To all Christians, Jews, Turks and Heathens, to all the nations of the earth this Trumpet sounds for the last time." In truth it was a curious emblem, but he, the author, was a mystic, and as all experience shows, the path of the mystic is a strange one. It is, as Job says, a path which the "vulture knoweth not." Even as a bird cleaves the eternal ether, so the mystic advances on a path nor ordinarily manifest, a way which must be followed with care, because like the Great Light, which flashes forth and leaves only traces when it returns again to its centre, only indications are left for those who come after seeking the same spiritual wisdom. Yet by these "traces," for such they are called in the Kabbala, the way can be discerned, and the truth discovered.
Boehme was poor, of common birth, and totally devoid of ordinary education. He was only a shoemaker. Yet from the mind and out of the mouth of this unlettered man came mighty truths.
It would be idle to inquire into the complications of Karma which condemned him to such a life as his appeared to be. It must have been extremely curious, because though he had grasped the truth and was able to appreciate it, yet at the same time he could not give it out in its perfect form. But he performed his work, and there can be no manner of doubt about his succeeding incarnation. As Krishna says in the Bhagavad-Gita, he has been already or will shortly be "born into a family of wise devotees"; and thence "he will attain the highest walk."
His life and writings furnish another proof that the great wisdom-religion―the Secret Doctrine―has never been left without a witness. Born a Christian, he nevertheless saw the esoteric truth lying under the moss and crust of centuries, and from the Christian Bible extracted for his purblind fellows those pearls which they refused to accept. But he did not get his knowledge from the Christian Scriptures only. Before his internal eye the panorama of real knowledge passed. His interior vision being open he could see the things he had learned in a former life, and at first not knowing what they were was stimulated by them to construe his only spiritual books in the esoteric fashion. His brain took cognizance of the Book before him, but his spirit aided by his past, and perchance by the living guardians of the shining lamp of truth, could not but read them aright.
His work was called "The Dawning of the Eternal Day." In this he endeavors to outline the great philosophy. He narrates the circumstances and reasons for the angelic creation, the fall of its chief three hierarchies, and the awful effects which thereupon fell upon Eternal Nature. Mark this, not upon man―for he was not yet―but upon the eternal Nature, that is BRAHM. Then he says that these effects came about by reason of the unbalancing of the seven equipoised powers of forces of the Eternal Nature or Brahm. That is to say, that so long as the seven principles of Brahm were in perfect poise, there was no corporeal or manifested universe. So in the Bhagavad-Gita we find that Krishna tells Arjuna that "after the lapse of a thousand ages (or Night of Brahm) all objects of developed matter come forth from the non-developed principle. At the approach of that day they emanate spontaneously." (Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. 8. ) Such is the teaching of the Secret Doctrine.
And again Boehme shows the duality of the Supreme Soul. For he says in his work "Psychologia Vera cum Supplemento" that these two eternal principles of positive and negative, the yea and the nay of the outspeaking Supreme One, together constitute eternal nature,―not the dark world alone; which is termed the "root of nature,―" the two being as it were combined in perfect indissoluble union.
This is nothing else but Purush and Prakriti, or taken together, what is referred to in the Bhagavad-Gita where it is said: "But there is another invisible, eternal existence, superior to this visible one, which does not perish when all things perish. It is called invisible and indivisible. This is my Supreme Abode."
Clearly the Supreme Abode could never be in Purush alone, nor in Prakriti alone, but in both when indissolubly united.
This scheme is adhered to all through this great philosopher's works, no matter whether he is speaking of the great Universe or macrocosm, or of its antitype in man or microcosm. In "De Tribus Principiis" he treats of the three principles or worlds of Nature, describing its eternal birth, its seven properties, and the two co-eternal principles; and furthermore in "De Triplici Vita Hominis" he gives the three-fold life of man from which the seven is again deduced.
In "De Electione Gratia" he goes into a subject that often proves a stumbling block to many, and that is the inevitableness of evil as well as of good. From this it is easy to pass to a contemplation of one of the difficult points in occultism as shown in the Secret Doctrine, that nothing is evil, and that even if we admit evil or wickedness in man, it is of the nature of the quality or guna, which in the Bhagavad-Gita is denominated raja―foulness or bad action. Even this is better than the indifferent action that only leads to death. Even from wickedness may and does come forth spiritual life, but from indifferent action comes only darkness, and finally death.
Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. IV: "There are three kinds of action: first, that which is of the nature of Satyam, or true action; second, that which is of the nature of Raja, or bad action; third, that which is of the nature of Tamas, or indifferent action." He then says: "Although thou wert the greatest of all offenders, thou shalt be able to cross the gulf of sin in the bark of spiritual wisdom"; and a little farther on "The ignorant and man without faith, whose spirit is full of doubt, is lost and cannot enjoy either world." And in another chapter in describing Himself, he says that he is not only the Buddha, but also is the most evil of mankind or the Asura.
This is one of the most mystical parts of the whole secret doctrine. While Boehme has touched on it sufficiently to show that he had a memory of it, he did not go into the most occult details. It has to be remembered that the Bhagavad-Gita, and many other books treating on the Secret Doctrine, must be regarded from seven points of view; and that imperfect man is not able to look at it from the centre, which would give the whole seven points at once.
Boehme wrote about thirty different treatise, all of them devoted to great subjects, portions of the Secret Doctrine.
Curiously enough the first treated of the "Dawn of the Eternal Day," and the second was devoted to an elucidation of "The Three Principles of Man." In the latter is really to be found a sevenfold classification similar to that which Mr. Sinnett propounded in "Esoteric Buddhism."
He held that the greatest obstacle in the path of man is the astral or elementary power, which engenders and sustain this world.
Then he talks of "tinctures," which we may call principles. According to him there are two principles ones, the watery, and the igneous. These ought to be united in Man; and they ardently seek each other continually, in order to be identified with Sophia or Divine Wisdom. Many Theosophists will see in this a clue not only to the two principles―or tinctures―which ought to be united man, but also to a law which obtains in many of the phenomena of magic. But even if I were able, I should not speak on this more clearly.
For many inquirers the greatest interest in these works will be found in his hypothesis as to the birth of the material Universe. On the evolution of man from spirit into matter he has much more than I could hope to glance at. In nearly all of it he was outlining and illustrating the Secret Doctrine. The books indicated are well worthy of study not only by Western but also by Eastern metaphysicians.
Let us add a few sentences to support this hypothesis from Count Saint Martin, who was a devoted student of these works.
"Jacob Boehme took for granted the existence of an Universal Principle; he was persuaded that everything is connected in the immense chain of truths, and that the Eternal Nature reposed on seven principles or bases, which he sometimes calls powers, forms, spiritual wheels, sources, and fountains, and that those seven bases exist also in this disordered material nature, under constraint. His nomenclature, adopted for these fundamental relations, ran thus: The first astringency, the second gall or bitterness, the third anguish, the fourth fire, the fifth light, the sixth sound, and the seventh he called BEING or the thing itself."
The reader may have begun to think the author did not rightly comprehend the first six but his definition of the seventh shows he was right throughout, and we may conclude the real meanings are concealed under these names.
"The third principle, anguish, attenuates the astringent one, turns it into water, and allows a passage to fire, which was shut up in the astringent principle."
There are in this many suggestions and a pursuit of them will repay the student.
"Now the Divine Sophia caused a new order to take birth in the centre of our system, and there burned our sun; from that do come forth all kinds of qualities, forms and powers. This centre is the Separator." It is well known that from the sun was taken by the ancients all kinds of power; and if we mistake not, the Hindus claim that when the Fathers enter into Para-Nirvana, their accumulated goodness pours itself out on the world through the "Door of the Sun."
The Bhagavad-Gita says, that the Lord of all dwells in the region of the heart, and again that this Lord is also the Sun of the world.
"The earth is a condensation of the seven primordial principles, and by the withdrawal of eternal light this became a dark valley." It is taught in the East, that this world is a valley and that we are in it, our bodies reaching to the moon, being condensed to hardness at the point where we are on the earth thus becoming visible to the eye of man. There is a mystery in this statement, but not such an one as cannot be unravelled.
Boehme proceeds: "When the light mastered the fire at the place of the sun, the terrible shock of the battle engendered an igneous eruption by which there shot forth from the sun a stormy and frightful flash of fire―Mars. Taken captive by light it assumed a place, and there it struggles furiously, a pricking goad, whose office is to agitate all nature, producing reaction. It is the gall of nature. The gracious, amiable Light, having enchained unerupted Mars, proceeded by its own power to the bottom or end of the rigidity of Nature, when unable to proceed further it stopped, and became corporeal; remaining there it warms that place, and although a valet in Nature, it is the source of sweetness and the moderator of Mars.
"Saturn does not originate from the sun, but was produced from the severe astringent anguish of the whole body of this Universe. Above Jupiter the sun could not mitigate the horror, and out of that arose Saturn, who is the opposite of meekness, and who produces whatever of rigidity there is in creatures, including bones, and what in moral nature corresponds thereto." (This is all the highest astrology, from one who had no knowledge of it.) "As in the Sun is the heart of life, so by Saturn commenceth all corporeal nature. Thus in these two resides the power of the whole universal body, and without their power there could be no creation nor any corporification.
"Venus originates in effluvia from the Sun. She lights the unctuosity of the water of the Universe, penetrates hardness, and enkindles love."
"Mercury is the chief worker in the planetary wheel; he is sound, and wakes up the germs in everything. His origin, the triumph of Light over Astringency (in which sound was shut up silent), set free the sound by the attenuation of the astringent power."
It is certain that if this peculiar statement regarding Mercury is understood, the student will have gained a high point of knowledge. A seductive bait is here held out to those striving disciples who so earnestly desire to hold converse with the elemental world. But there is no danger, for all the avenues are very secret and only the pure can prevail in the preliminary steps.
Boehme says again: "The Mercury is impregnated and fed continually by the solar substance; that in it is found the knowledge of what was in the order above, before Light had penetrated to the solar centre."
As to the Moon, it is curious to note that he says, "she was produced from the sun itself, at the time of his becoming material, and that the moon is his spouse." Students of the story of Adam being made to sleep after his creation and before coats of skin were given, when Eve was produced from his side, will find in this a strong hint.
The above is not by any means a complete statement of Boehme's system. In order to do justice to it, a full analysis of all his works should be undertaken. However, it is sufficient if thoughtful minds who have not read Boehme, shall turn to him after reading this, or if but one earnest reader of his works, or seeker after wisdom, shall receive even a hint that may lead to a clearing up of doubts, or to the acquisition of one new idea. Count Saint Martin continually read him; and the merest glance at the "Theosophic Correspondence" or, "Man―His Nature, &.," of Saint Martin will show that from that study he learned much. How much more then will the Western mind be aided by the light shed on both by the lamp of Theosophical teachings.
"Let the desire of the pious be fulfilled."
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE
Theosophist, April, 1886.
submitted by Doctor_of_Puns to Original_Theosophy [link] [comments]
Boehme was poor, of common birth, and totally devoid of ordinary education. He was only a shoemaker. Yet from the mind and out of the mouth of this unlettered man came mighty truths.
It would be idle to inquire into the complications of Karma which condemned him to such a life as his appeared to be. It must have been extremely curious, because though he had grasped the truth and was able to appreciate it, yet at the same time he could not give it out in its perfect form. But he performed his work, and there can be no manner of doubt about his succeeding incarnation. As Krishna says in the Bhagavad-Gita, he has been already or will shortly be "born into a family of wise devotees"; and thence "he will attain the highest walk."
His life and writings furnish another proof that the great wisdom-religion―the Secret Doctrine―has never been left without a witness. Born a Christian, he nevertheless saw the esoteric truth lying under the moss and crust of centuries, and from the Christian Bible extracted for his purblind fellows those pearls which they refused to accept. But he did not get his knowledge from the Christian Scriptures only. Before his internal eye the panorama of real knowledge passed. His interior vision being open he could see the things he had learned in a former life, and at first not knowing what they were was stimulated by them to construe his only spiritual books in the esoteric fashion. His brain took cognizance of the Book before him, but his spirit aided by his past, and perchance by the living guardians of the shining lamp of truth, could not but read them aright.
His work was called "The Dawning of the Eternal Day." In this he endeavors to outline the great philosophy. He narrates the circumstances and reasons for the angelic creation, the fall of its chief three hierarchies, and the awful effects which thereupon fell upon Eternal Nature. Mark this, not upon man―for he was not yet―but upon the eternal Nature, that is BRAHM. Then he says that these effects came about by reason of the unbalancing of the seven equipoised powers of forces of the Eternal Nature or Brahm. That is to say, that so long as the seven principles of Brahm were in perfect poise, there was no corporeal or manifested universe. So in the Bhagavad-Gita we find that Krishna tells Arjuna that "after the lapse of a thousand ages (or Night of Brahm) all objects of developed matter come forth from the non-developed principle. At the approach of that day they emanate spontaneously." (Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. 8. ) Such is the teaching of the Secret Doctrine.
And again Boehme shows the duality of the Supreme Soul. For he says in his work "Psychologia Vera cum Supplemento" that these two eternal principles of positive and negative, the yea and the nay of the outspeaking Supreme One, together constitute eternal nature,―not the dark world alone; which is termed the "root of nature,―" the two being as it were combined in perfect indissoluble union.
This is nothing else but Purush and Prakriti, or taken together, what is referred to in the Bhagavad-Gita where it is said: "But there is another invisible, eternal existence, superior to this visible one, which does not perish when all things perish. It is called invisible and indivisible. This is my Supreme Abode."
Clearly the Supreme Abode could never be in Purush alone, nor in Prakriti alone, but in both when indissolubly united.
This scheme is adhered to all through this great philosopher's works, no matter whether he is speaking of the great Universe or macrocosm, or of its antitype in man or microcosm. In "De Tribus Principiis" he treats of the three principles or worlds of Nature, describing its eternal birth, its seven properties, and the two co-eternal principles; and furthermore in "De Triplici Vita Hominis" he gives the three-fold life of man from which the seven is again deduced.
In "De Electione Gratia" he goes into a subject that often proves a stumbling block to many, and that is the inevitableness of evil as well as of good. From this it is easy to pass to a contemplation of one of the difficult points in occultism as shown in the Secret Doctrine, that nothing is evil, and that even if we admit evil or wickedness in man, it is of the nature of the quality or guna, which in the Bhagavad-Gita is denominated raja―foulness or bad action. Even this is better than the indifferent action that only leads to death. Even from wickedness may and does come forth spiritual life, but from indifferent action comes only darkness, and finally death.
Krishna says in Bhagavad-Gita, Chap. IV: "There are three kinds of action: first, that which is of the nature of Satyam, or true action; second, that which is of the nature of Raja, or bad action; third, that which is of the nature of Tamas, or indifferent action." He then says: "Although thou wert the greatest of all offenders, thou shalt be able to cross the gulf of sin in the bark of spiritual wisdom"; and a little farther on "The ignorant and man without faith, whose spirit is full of doubt, is lost and cannot enjoy either world." And in another chapter in describing Himself, he says that he is not only the Buddha, but also is the most evil of mankind or the Asura.
This is one of the most mystical parts of the whole secret doctrine. While Boehme has touched on it sufficiently to show that he had a memory of it, he did not go into the most occult details. It has to be remembered that the Bhagavad-Gita, and many other books treating on the Secret Doctrine, must be regarded from seven points of view; and that imperfect man is not able to look at it from the centre, which would give the whole seven points at once.
Boehme wrote about thirty different treatise, all of them devoted to great subjects, portions of the Secret Doctrine.
Curiously enough the first treated of the "Dawn of the Eternal Day," and the second was devoted to an elucidation of "The Three Principles of Man." In the latter is really to be found a sevenfold classification similar to that which Mr. Sinnett propounded in "Esoteric Buddhism."
He held that the greatest obstacle in the path of man is the astral or elementary power, which engenders and sustain this world.
Then he talks of "tinctures," which we may call principles. According to him there are two principles ones, the watery, and the igneous. These ought to be united in Man; and they ardently seek each other continually, in order to be identified with Sophia or Divine Wisdom. Many Theosophists will see in this a clue not only to the two principles―or tinctures―which ought to be united man, but also to a law which obtains in many of the phenomena of magic. But even if I were able, I should not speak on this more clearly.
For many inquirers the greatest interest in these works will be found in his hypothesis as to the birth of the material Universe. On the evolution of man from spirit into matter he has much more than I could hope to glance at. In nearly all of it he was outlining and illustrating the Secret Doctrine. The books indicated are well worthy of study not only by Western but also by Eastern metaphysicians.
Let us add a few sentences to support this hypothesis from Count Saint Martin, who was a devoted student of these works.
"Jacob Boehme took for granted the existence of an Universal Principle; he was persuaded that everything is connected in the immense chain of truths, and that the Eternal Nature reposed on seven principles or bases, which he sometimes calls powers, forms, spiritual wheels, sources, and fountains, and that those seven bases exist also in this disordered material nature, under constraint. His nomenclature, adopted for these fundamental relations, ran thus: The first astringency, the second gall or bitterness, the third anguish, the fourth fire, the fifth light, the sixth sound, and the seventh he called BEING or the thing itself."
The reader may have begun to think the author did not rightly comprehend the first six but his definition of the seventh shows he was right throughout, and we may conclude the real meanings are concealed under these names.
"The third principle, anguish, attenuates the astringent one, turns it into water, and allows a passage to fire, which was shut up in the astringent principle."
There are in this many suggestions and a pursuit of them will repay the student.
"Now the Divine Sophia caused a new order to take birth in the centre of our system, and there burned our sun; from that do come forth all kinds of qualities, forms and powers. This centre is the Separator." It is well known that from the sun was taken by the ancients all kinds of power; and if we mistake not, the Hindus claim that when the Fathers enter into Para-Nirvana, their accumulated goodness pours itself out on the world through the "Door of the Sun."
The Bhagavad-Gita says, that the Lord of all dwells in the region of the heart, and again that this Lord is also the Sun of the world.
"The earth is a condensation of the seven primordial principles, and by the withdrawal of eternal light this became a dark valley." It is taught in the East, that this world is a valley and that we are in it, our bodies reaching to the moon, being condensed to hardness at the point where we are on the earth thus becoming visible to the eye of man. There is a mystery in this statement, but not such an one as cannot be unravelled.
Boehme proceeds: "When the light mastered the fire at the place of the sun, the terrible shock of the battle engendered an igneous eruption by which there shot forth from the sun a stormy and frightful flash of fire―Mars. Taken captive by light it assumed a place, and there it struggles furiously, a pricking goad, whose office is to agitate all nature, producing reaction. It is the gall of nature. The gracious, amiable Light, having enchained unerupted Mars, proceeded by its own power to the bottom or end of the rigidity of Nature, when unable to proceed further it stopped, and became corporeal; remaining there it warms that place, and although a valet in Nature, it is the source of sweetness and the moderator of Mars.
"Saturn does not originate from the sun, but was produced from the severe astringent anguish of the whole body of this Universe. Above Jupiter the sun could not mitigate the horror, and out of that arose Saturn, who is the opposite of meekness, and who produces whatever of rigidity there is in creatures, including bones, and what in moral nature corresponds thereto." (This is all the highest astrology, from one who had no knowledge of it.) "As in the Sun is the heart of life, so by Saturn commenceth all corporeal nature. Thus in these two resides the power of the whole universal body, and without their power there could be no creation nor any corporification.
"Venus originates in effluvia from the Sun. She lights the unctuosity of the water of the Universe, penetrates hardness, and enkindles love."
"Mercury is the chief worker in the planetary wheel; he is sound, and wakes up the germs in everything. His origin, the triumph of Light over Astringency (in which sound was shut up silent), set free the sound by the attenuation of the astringent power."
It is certain that if this peculiar statement regarding Mercury is understood, the student will have gained a high point of knowledge. A seductive bait is here held out to those striving disciples who so earnestly desire to hold converse with the elemental world. But there is no danger, for all the avenues are very secret and only the pure can prevail in the preliminary steps.
Boehme says again: "The Mercury is impregnated and fed continually by the solar substance; that in it is found the knowledge of what was in the order above, before Light had penetrated to the solar centre."
As to the Moon, it is curious to note that he says, "she was produced from the sun itself, at the time of his becoming material, and that the moon is his spouse." Students of the story of Adam being made to sleep after his creation and before coats of skin were given, when Eve was produced from his side, will find in this a strong hint.
The above is not by any means a complete statement of Boehme's system. In order to do justice to it, a full analysis of all his works should be undertaken. However, it is sufficient if thoughtful minds who have not read Boehme, shall turn to him after reading this, or if but one earnest reader of his works, or seeker after wisdom, shall receive even a hint that may lead to a clearing up of doubts, or to the acquisition of one new idea. Count Saint Martin continually read him; and the merest glance at the "Theosophic Correspondence" or, "Man―His Nature, &.," of Saint Martin will show that from that study he learned much. How much more then will the Western mind be aided by the light shed on both by the lamp of Theosophical teachings.
"Let the desire of the pious be fulfilled."
WILLIAM Q. JUDGE
Theosophist, April, 1886.
2024.05.18 12:48 Alarming-Seaweed-550 Terrorised for over 18 months... what did we experience?
We moved into this house 5.5 years ago. I'd never experienced anything 'paranormal' before. I was a hardcore sceptic. It was around 18 months later that I began to experience disturbing paranormal events I cannot explain no matter how much science I read. Note: I do not have a history of hallucinations or schizophrenia or anything, I was not smoking weed at the time nor on any other drugs. I was in my mid-twenties at the time. Help?
The first incident was on a November night at about 10:51 pm (almost all events happened between 10:51pm-2:00am but primarily between 11-1). For context, I'd spent the last hour playing Among Us and studying from a Spanish textbook. I would listen to relaxing jazz sometimes and drink some Jack Daniels (but was not drunk). I went to pee, my mind was focused on how clevefunny the games were and how I couldn't wait to get back to what I was doing. When I pulled my trousers up, a noise caught my attention. There was an Alberto Balsam shampoo bottle (about 1/3 or just under full) between the taps on the sink. It is a standard, British porcelain sink close to the toilet but to touch the bottle I would need to extend my arm, bending my elbow as I did that night was nowhere near close enough for contact. The bottle rocked far to the left, to the right, unnaturally, and repeated this motion about 5 times before it came to a standstill in its original position. It wasn't a small wobble, it was a slow, intentional rock side-to-side (the bottle should not have been able to rock so far to either side without falling over). My bathroom is tiny but I couldn't touch the bottle let alone cause it to rock the way it did. The window was closed, there was no breeze and nobody else in the room. I tried to replicate it another time by blowing hard on the bottle, flapping my arms and holding myself in the same position as when it happened but I could not touch/move the bottle. Even with generous leeway, I could not touch that bottle. In short: it wasn't me and it ruined my night. This incident terrified me.
A couple of days later, I was in the same bathroom washing my hands at about the same time at night when I experienced a sudden and intense sensation that something sinister was behind me staring at me. I looked up at the mirror and couldn't see anything behind me, but I felt something there. I was too afraid to move, I finished washing my hands after a minute or so, and when the feeling began to fade I left the bathroom. This became a regular occurrence. Particularly in the kitchen and bathroom, I felt something 'there' or that something was watching me and attempting to interact with me. The presence was somewhat imposing and dark. I couldn't see it. My partner didn't believe me when I told him about these incidents and would go to bed before me so he didn't witness them at first. I believed this presence was a 'man' and for a while thought it might've been the deceased elderly man who used to live here. He was placed in a care home aged 95 and was known as a nasty, horrible old man. The man passed away at some point, I'm not sure when but it was either during the incidents or towards the end of them.
Additionally, we had a living room carpet and as these incidents increased in frequency I began to hear something plucking at the carpet in the corner by the door. When I moved the curtain there was nothing there and the noise stopped. This is where my partner comes in because he stayed up later occasionally and he HEARD the noise. I didn't prompt him, I heard it and remained quiet until he picked up on it. I told him that was the noise I was hearing, he went to investigate and couldn't see anything. This is what made him suspicious too. We have a rabbit but checked on him, he was in his cage eating in the next room while the noises happened. Unless he could teleport, pluck the carpet before our eyes while invisible and teleport back into his cage- it wasn't him. Since then, I lifted the floor to see if anything could have plucked the carpet from beneath the floorboards. The floorboards are locked tight and it would've been impossible to touch the underside of the carpet or underlay.
This may be my mind manifesting fear, but I began to have horrible dreams about an old man with beady, shiny black eyes, a partially bald head and white hair in a forest (I recognised the layout from a forest far away in my hometown I used to ride a horse in). These dreams were disturbing and the men were not like ordinary people, I felt they were trying to toy with me before they k*lled me. One night I woke up to feel someone standing over me, another I woke up and briefly glimpsed black writing all over the wall on the landing. When I blinked it vanished. I was terrified and often felt something on the landing or in the room. I had no history of sleep paralysis before moving to this house. My partner told me he believed that whatever it was enjoyed scaring me and was feeding on my fear. I tried after this to not be afraid and to confront it, which worked to some degree.
One of the worst incidents was when I knew the 'man' was there, I felt him standing about 2 feet away from my computer chair. He liked to stand over me and sometimes breathe on me while I was gaming. I was playing World of Warcraft, I remember exactly what I was doing. I knew he was trying to get my attention and I ignored him. I forced myself to calm down. Then he moved closer and I heard a 'HUFF' as though someone breathed heavily through their mouth only inches from my ear. I took my headset off and looked round but the presence disappeared into the kitchen. I felt he wanted me to follow him, so I did. My attention was guided out of the window as though he was leading me there. I went to the window and looked out. I saw a shape out there that looked like an adult male of about 6ft wearing a grey hoodie and gloves standing near my back fence as though he'd just climbed over. Could I have been mistaken? yeah, but I tried to run from the window and ended up in freeze mode by the kitchen door. I couldn't move, I tried so hard to get away because I thought this man was going to break into my house and attack me. I don't know where the 'man' was but after about 2 minutes I made it into the living room, 2 more and I went back to check. The 'man' and the 'real man' were both gone. A strange part of me believed the 'man' chased the real figure off. I felt as though he'd tried to save me that night and I became more sympathetic to him.
There was another incident, which could be explained otherwise but my partner wasn't convinced. We had a small children's desk with two wooden chairs behind us, we stacked the chairs on the table while our daughter was upstairs. While we were on the computers, the chairs came crashing to the floor. They were not precariously stacked. The doors were open and there was a breeze but the wind should not have been capable of knocking even small wooden chairs to the floor. This happened in daylight in the late afternoon.
Over time this began to fade. I feared the man less. I often felt his presence in the kitchen standing far too close to me. One time I felt a sudden icy blow down the left side of my neck. Our house is cold and drafty so although I'm convinced it was him, it could have been something else. My nightmares began to disappear. I would hear him sometimes 'walking' upstairs, and I sensed him go into my daughter's bedroom just to look at her. He never did anything to her. My partner also experienced 'something' going on in the house on several occasions but he is still somewhat a sceptic. Eventually, everything stopped.
After the 'man' disappeared, we had issues with animal footsteps on the stairs. It sounded like a cat running up and down. The first time it happened, we couldn't see anything. The plucking noise continued. Around this time, our house rabbit for some reason jumped out of his cage and we had at least 2-3 incidents where he bolted up the stairs and went into our bedroom. He was running about and this was abnormal for him. Of course, we blamed him and locked his cage tightly so he couldn't escape, but the noises continued. My ex was woken by the noises one night and investigated them only to find the rabbit in his cage and the noises continuing.
The noises and incidents have stopped for quite some time now. The house feels at peace but that was a deeply terrifying event that actually ruined my life and made me feel unsafe in my own home at night. What could it have been?
submitted by Alarming-Seaweed-550 to Paranormal [link] [comments]
The first incident was on a November night at about 10:51 pm (almost all events happened between 10:51pm-2:00am but primarily between 11-1). For context, I'd spent the last hour playing Among Us and studying from a Spanish textbook. I would listen to relaxing jazz sometimes and drink some Jack Daniels (but was not drunk). I went to pee, my mind was focused on how clevefunny the games were and how I couldn't wait to get back to what I was doing. When I pulled my trousers up, a noise caught my attention. There was an Alberto Balsam shampoo bottle (about 1/3 or just under full) between the taps on the sink. It is a standard, British porcelain sink close to the toilet but to touch the bottle I would need to extend my arm, bending my elbow as I did that night was nowhere near close enough for contact. The bottle rocked far to the left, to the right, unnaturally, and repeated this motion about 5 times before it came to a standstill in its original position. It wasn't a small wobble, it was a slow, intentional rock side-to-side (the bottle should not have been able to rock so far to either side without falling over). My bathroom is tiny but I couldn't touch the bottle let alone cause it to rock the way it did. The window was closed, there was no breeze and nobody else in the room. I tried to replicate it another time by blowing hard on the bottle, flapping my arms and holding myself in the same position as when it happened but I could not touch/move the bottle. Even with generous leeway, I could not touch that bottle. In short: it wasn't me and it ruined my night. This incident terrified me.
A couple of days later, I was in the same bathroom washing my hands at about the same time at night when I experienced a sudden and intense sensation that something sinister was behind me staring at me. I looked up at the mirror and couldn't see anything behind me, but I felt something there. I was too afraid to move, I finished washing my hands after a minute or so, and when the feeling began to fade I left the bathroom. This became a regular occurrence. Particularly in the kitchen and bathroom, I felt something 'there' or that something was watching me and attempting to interact with me. The presence was somewhat imposing and dark. I couldn't see it. My partner didn't believe me when I told him about these incidents and would go to bed before me so he didn't witness them at first. I believed this presence was a 'man' and for a while thought it might've been the deceased elderly man who used to live here. He was placed in a care home aged 95 and was known as a nasty, horrible old man. The man passed away at some point, I'm not sure when but it was either during the incidents or towards the end of them.
Additionally, we had a living room carpet and as these incidents increased in frequency I began to hear something plucking at the carpet in the corner by the door. When I moved the curtain there was nothing there and the noise stopped. This is where my partner comes in because he stayed up later occasionally and he HEARD the noise. I didn't prompt him, I heard it and remained quiet until he picked up on it. I told him that was the noise I was hearing, he went to investigate and couldn't see anything. This is what made him suspicious too. We have a rabbit but checked on him, he was in his cage eating in the next room while the noises happened. Unless he could teleport, pluck the carpet before our eyes while invisible and teleport back into his cage- it wasn't him. Since then, I lifted the floor to see if anything could have plucked the carpet from beneath the floorboards. The floorboards are locked tight and it would've been impossible to touch the underside of the carpet or underlay.
This may be my mind manifesting fear, but I began to have horrible dreams about an old man with beady, shiny black eyes, a partially bald head and white hair in a forest (I recognised the layout from a forest far away in my hometown I used to ride a horse in). These dreams were disturbing and the men were not like ordinary people, I felt they were trying to toy with me before they k*lled me. One night I woke up to feel someone standing over me, another I woke up and briefly glimpsed black writing all over the wall on the landing. When I blinked it vanished. I was terrified and often felt something on the landing or in the room. I had no history of sleep paralysis before moving to this house. My partner told me he believed that whatever it was enjoyed scaring me and was feeding on my fear. I tried after this to not be afraid and to confront it, which worked to some degree.
One of the worst incidents was when I knew the 'man' was there, I felt him standing about 2 feet away from my computer chair. He liked to stand over me and sometimes breathe on me while I was gaming. I was playing World of Warcraft, I remember exactly what I was doing. I knew he was trying to get my attention and I ignored him. I forced myself to calm down. Then he moved closer and I heard a 'HUFF' as though someone breathed heavily through their mouth only inches from my ear. I took my headset off and looked round but the presence disappeared into the kitchen. I felt he wanted me to follow him, so I did. My attention was guided out of the window as though he was leading me there. I went to the window and looked out. I saw a shape out there that looked like an adult male of about 6ft wearing a grey hoodie and gloves standing near my back fence as though he'd just climbed over. Could I have been mistaken? yeah, but I tried to run from the window and ended up in freeze mode by the kitchen door. I couldn't move, I tried so hard to get away because I thought this man was going to break into my house and attack me. I don't know where the 'man' was but after about 2 minutes I made it into the living room, 2 more and I went back to check. The 'man' and the 'real man' were both gone. A strange part of me believed the 'man' chased the real figure off. I felt as though he'd tried to save me that night and I became more sympathetic to him.
There was another incident, which could be explained otherwise but my partner wasn't convinced. We had a small children's desk with two wooden chairs behind us, we stacked the chairs on the table while our daughter was upstairs. While we were on the computers, the chairs came crashing to the floor. They were not precariously stacked. The doors were open and there was a breeze but the wind should not have been capable of knocking even small wooden chairs to the floor. This happened in daylight in the late afternoon.
Over time this began to fade. I feared the man less. I often felt his presence in the kitchen standing far too close to me. One time I felt a sudden icy blow down the left side of my neck. Our house is cold and drafty so although I'm convinced it was him, it could have been something else. My nightmares began to disappear. I would hear him sometimes 'walking' upstairs, and I sensed him go into my daughter's bedroom just to look at her. He never did anything to her. My partner also experienced 'something' going on in the house on several occasions but he is still somewhat a sceptic. Eventually, everything stopped.
After the 'man' disappeared, we had issues with animal footsteps on the stairs. It sounded like a cat running up and down. The first time it happened, we couldn't see anything. The plucking noise continued. Around this time, our house rabbit for some reason jumped out of his cage and we had at least 2-3 incidents where he bolted up the stairs and went into our bedroom. He was running about and this was abnormal for him. Of course, we blamed him and locked his cage tightly so he couldn't escape, but the noises continued. My ex was woken by the noises one night and investigated them only to find the rabbit in his cage and the noises continuing.
The noises and incidents have stopped for quite some time now. The house feels at peace but that was a deeply terrifying event that actually ruined my life and made me feel unsafe in my own home at night. What could it have been?
2024.05.18 11:44 divergentstar EU Searching for people to play with
I am looking for people to play games with since I haven't found much people who like the same type of games as I play. I'm a bit picky in what I (can) play. I suffer from motion sickness, so lots of FPS make me physically sick, that I have to throw up. I really like RPGs like Monster Hunter or some type of D&D like games like Divinity and BG3. I would also like to return to retail WoW. I really enjoyed the story of Dragonflight.
I really struggle to fit in groups, so please don't invite me randomly to a Discord server or something. I'd probably be really quiet and awkward while everyone else is talking to each other. Usually I even get ignored when I say something in a Discord server. That makes me feel really awful, like I don't matter or that I'm an invisible ghost. So preferably I would like to find a person who kinda puts me first and cares. Like usually when I don't say or ask anything, no one will message me. So when I get sick and can't talk for a few days because I am throwing up or having a fever, there's just silence. They won't even ask me if I'm doing okay. I just feel like if I were to drop dead, no one would care or even know about it. Sorry for the gloomy part at the end, I am kinda feeling down and depressed. I just really want to find a genuine person who puts effort and cares and it's so hard since I don't like the most popular games or I can't play them. I wish I could fit in with a group so I can have fun and laugh and talk about stuff with them, but I am feeling really lonely and cast aside usually.
submitted by divergentstar to GamerPals [link] [comments]
I really struggle to fit in groups, so please don't invite me randomly to a Discord server or something. I'd probably be really quiet and awkward while everyone else is talking to each other. Usually I even get ignored when I say something in a Discord server. That makes me feel really awful, like I don't matter or that I'm an invisible ghost. So preferably I would like to find a person who kinda puts me first and cares. Like usually when I don't say or ask anything, no one will message me. So when I get sick and can't talk for a few days because I am throwing up or having a fever, there's just silence. They won't even ask me if I'm doing okay. I just feel like if I were to drop dead, no one would care or even know about it. Sorry for the gloomy part at the end, I am kinda feeling down and depressed. I just really want to find a genuine person who puts effort and cares and it's so hard since I don't like the most popular games or I can't play them. I wish I could fit in with a group so I can have fun and laugh and talk about stuff with them, but I am feeling really lonely and cast aside usually.
2024.05.18 11:17 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)
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*EXPEDITIONS: ROME *MIDNIGHT FIGHT EXPRESS *ELEX II *LAST CALL BBS *FROM SPACE *GET TWO MONTHS OF IGN PLUS
NOVEMBER 2023 GAMES
*HARDSPACE: SHIPBREAKER *UNPACKING *FRIENDS VS FRIENDS *PRODEUS *THE LEGEND OF TIANDING *SCP: SECRET FILES *SOULDIERS
OCTOBER 2023 GAMES
*METAL HELLSINGER *DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES *REBEL INC: ESCALATION *SPIRIT OF THE ISLAND *LORDS AND VILLEINS *A JUGGLER'S TALE *MR. PREPPER
SEPTEMBER 2023 GAMES
*THE FORGOTTEN CITY *ACES & ADVENTURES *PATCH QUEST *FORETALES *WHO PRESSED MUTE ON UNCLE MARCUS *AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
AUGUST 2023 GAMES
*CHIVALRY 2 *ROAD 96 *TREK TO YOMI *ARCADE PARADISE *SUCHART: GENIUS ARTIST SIMULATOR *TIN CAN *HOT BRASS *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JULY 2023 GAMES
*YAKUZA 4 REMASTERED *ROADWARDEN *KRAKEN ACADEMY!! *MERCHANT OF THE SKIES *OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JUNE 2023 GAMES
*CURSE OF THE DEAD GODS *HONEY I JOINED A CULT *ETERNAL THREADS *GRIME *TURBO GOLF RACING *MEEPLE STATION
MAY 2023 GAMES
*WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS GATE - DAEMONHUNTERS *SPIRITFARER: FAREWELL EDITION *BENDY AND THE DARK REVIVAL *OPERATION: TANGO *WINDJAMMERS 2 *BUILDER SIMULATOR *BEHIND THE FRAME: THE FINEST SCENERY *THE INVISIBLE HAND
APRIL 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*ROLLERDROME *LIFE IS STRANGE 2: COMPLETE SEASON *THE LIFE AND SUFFERING OF SIR BRANTE *MONSTER PROM 2: MONSTER CAMP *REVITA *FOUNDERS' FORTUNE
MARCH 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*BIOMUTANT *EDGE OF ETERNITY *HERO'S HOUR *ROGUE LORDS *DEMON TURF *GOLDEN LIGHT *MONSTER CROWN
FEBRUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*PATHFINDER: WRATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS *FALLOUT 76 + FALLOUT 1 *THRONEBREAKER: THE WITCHER TALES *OTHERCIDE *SHADY PART OF ME *SCOURGEBRINGER *FOBIA - ST. DINFNA HOTEL *FIVE DATES
JANUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*TRIBES OF MIDGARD *ENCASED: A SCI-FI POST-APOCALYPTIC RPG *OLLIOLLI WORLD - RAD EDITION *GROW: SONG OF THE EVERTREE *CONAN CHOP CHOP *HOKKO LIFE *THE SERPENT ROGUE
DECEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*GREEDFALL *FIRST CLASS TROUBLE *BACKBONE *TOEM *WHERE THE WATER TASTES LIKE WINE *BLADE ASSAULT *SUPER MAGBOT
NOVEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*KINGDOMS OF AMALUR: RE-RECKONING - FATE EDITION *SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE *ROBOQUEST *ELDEST SOULS *UNMETAL *RAJI: AN ANCIENT EPIC *MORBID: THE SEVEN ACOLYTES
OCTOBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*DEATHLOOP *MONSTER TRAIN (FIRST CLASS - COLLECTORS EDITION) *DISCIPLES: LIBERATION *MAID OF SKER *EPIC CHEF *RAILROAD CORPORATION *GOLF GANG
SEPTEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
January 2020 Humble Choice
submitted by Aggelos2001 to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]
My Steam Profile
APRIL 2024 GAMES
- THE CALLISTO PROTOCOL
- HUMANKIND DEFINITIVE EDITION
- FASHION POLICE SQUAD
- TERRAFORMERS
- SYMPHONY OF WAR: THE NEPHILIM SAGA
- COROMON
- THE EXCAVATION OF HOB'S BARROW
- WARHAMMER AGE OF SIGMAR: REALMS OF RUIN – ULTIMATE EDITION
- NIOH 2 - THE COMPLETE EDITION
- SAINTS ROW
- CITIZEN SLEEPER
- BLACK SKYLANDS
- SOULSTICE
- AFTERIMAGE
- DESTROYER: THE U-BOAT HUNTER
*LIFE IS STRANGE: TRUE COLORS *SCORN *DESTROY ALL HUMANS 2! REPROBED *BEACON PINES *THERE IS NO LIGHT: ENHANCED EDITION *CHILDREN OF SILENTOWN *OAKEN *SNOWTOPIA: SKI RESORT BUILDER
JANUARY 2024 GAMES
*MARVEL'S MIDNIGHT SUNS DIGITAL+ EDITION *MIDNIGHT SUNS - DOCTOR STRANGE DEFENDERS SKIN *TWO POINT CAMPUS *ARAGAMI 2 *ROGUEBOOK *THE RED LANTERN *HELL PIE *TWIN MIRROR
DECEMBER 2023 GAMES
*EXPEDITIONS: ROME *MIDNIGHT FIGHT EXPRESS *ELEX II *LAST CALL BBS *FROM SPACE *GET TWO MONTHS OF IGN PLUS
NOVEMBER 2023 GAMES
*HARDSPACE: SHIPBREAKER *UNPACKING *FRIENDS VS FRIENDS *PRODEUS *THE LEGEND OF TIANDING *SCP: SECRET FILES *SOULDIERS
OCTOBER 2023 GAMES
*METAL HELLSINGER *DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES *REBEL INC: ESCALATION *SPIRIT OF THE ISLAND *LORDS AND VILLEINS *A JUGGLER'S TALE *MR. PREPPER
SEPTEMBER 2023 GAMES
*THE FORGOTTEN CITY *ACES & ADVENTURES *PATCH QUEST *FORETALES *WHO PRESSED MUTE ON UNCLE MARCUS *AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
AUGUST 2023 GAMES
*CHIVALRY 2 *ROAD 96 *TREK TO YOMI *ARCADE PARADISE *SUCHART: GENIUS ARTIST SIMULATOR *TIN CAN *HOT BRASS *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JULY 2023 GAMES
*YAKUZA 4 REMASTERED *ROADWARDEN *KRAKEN ACADEMY!! *MERCHANT OF THE SKIES *OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JUNE 2023 GAMES
*CURSE OF THE DEAD GODS *HONEY I JOINED A CULT *ETERNAL THREADS *GRIME *TURBO GOLF RACING *MEEPLE STATION
MAY 2023 GAMES
*WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS GATE - DAEMONHUNTERS *SPIRITFARER: FAREWELL EDITION *BENDY AND THE DARK REVIVAL *OPERATION: TANGO *WINDJAMMERS 2 *BUILDER SIMULATOR *BEHIND THE FRAME: THE FINEST SCENERY *THE INVISIBLE HAND
APRIL 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*ROLLERDROME *LIFE IS STRANGE 2: COMPLETE SEASON *THE LIFE AND SUFFERING OF SIR BRANTE *MONSTER PROM 2: MONSTER CAMP *REVITA *FOUNDERS' FORTUNE
MARCH 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*BIOMUTANT *EDGE OF ETERNITY *HERO'S HOUR *ROGUE LORDS *DEMON TURF *GOLDEN LIGHT *MONSTER CROWN
FEBRUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*PATHFINDER: WRATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS *FALLOUT 76 + FALLOUT 1 *THRONEBREAKER: THE WITCHER TALES *OTHERCIDE *SHADY PART OF ME *SCOURGEBRINGER *FOBIA - ST. DINFNA HOTEL *FIVE DATES
JANUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*TRIBES OF MIDGARD *ENCASED: A SCI-FI POST-APOCALYPTIC RPG *OLLIOLLI WORLD - RAD EDITION *GROW: SONG OF THE EVERTREE *CONAN CHOP CHOP *HOKKO LIFE *THE SERPENT ROGUE
DECEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*GREEDFALL *FIRST CLASS TROUBLE *BACKBONE *TOEM *WHERE THE WATER TASTES LIKE WINE *BLADE ASSAULT *SUPER MAGBOT
NOVEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*KINGDOMS OF AMALUR: RE-RECKONING - FATE EDITION *SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE *ROBOQUEST *ELDEST SOULS *UNMETAL *RAJI: AN ANCIENT EPIC *MORBID: THE SEVEN ACOLYTES
OCTOBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*DEATHLOOP *MONSTER TRAIN (FIRST CLASS - COLLECTORS EDITION) *DISCIPLES: LIBERATION *MAID OF SKER *EPIC CHEF *RAILROAD CORPORATION *GOLF GANG
SEPTEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
- THE DUNGEON OF NAHEULBEUK: THE AMULET OF CHAOS
- FORGIVE ME FATHER
- CROWN TRICK
- DESCENDERS
- INDUSTRIA
- LEGEND OF KEEPERS
- LAWN MOWING SIMULATOR
- BANNERS OF RUIN
- YES, YOUR GRACE
- ATOM RPG TRUDOGRAD
- STAR WARS SQUADRONS
- PHOENIX POINT: YEAR ONE EDITION
- CALL OF THE SEA
- GAMEDEC
- PUMPKIN JACK
- SIEGE SURVIVAL: GLORIA VICTIS
- I AM FISH
- SUPERHOT: MIND CONTROL DELETE
- COMMAND & CONQUER REMASTERED COLLECTION
- SURVIVING THE AFTERMATH
- IF FOUND...
- GENESIS NOIR
- EMBR
- MONSTER SANCTUARY
- SUZERAIN
- CHICKEN POLICE
- NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
- MARCH 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
- RED SOLSTICE 2: SURVIVORS
- POLICE STORIES
- EVAN'S REMAINS
- BLACK BOOK
- PER ASPERA
- JUST DIE ALREADY
- BEFORE WE LEAVE
- PARADISE LOST
- EVERHOOD
- EVERHOOD
- AMNESIA: REBIRTH
- JOHN WICK HEX
- RING OF PAIN
- GUTS AND GLORY
- THE TEXTORCIST: THE STORY OF RAY BIBBIA
- GARAGE: BAD TRIP
- HIVESWAP FRIENDSIM
- TOOLS UP
- SYBERIA 3
- BLACK FUTURE '88
- CEPHEUS PROTOCOL
- DRAKE HOLLOW
- BLUE FIRE
- ENCODYA
- HAMMERTING
- KILL IT WITH FIRE
- BEE SIMULATOR
- S.W.I.N.E. HD REMASTER
- DEADLY DAYS
- STUBBS THE ZOMBIE IN REBEL WITHOUT A PULSE
- WORMS RUMBLE + LEGENDS PACK DLC
- PANZER PALADIN
- GOING UNDER
- MILKY WAY PRINCE - THE VAMPIRE STAR
- DESOLATE
- PAW PAW PAW
- IKENFELL
- DISJUNCTION
- EFFIE
- HELLPOINT
- COOK, SERVE, DELICIOUS! 3
- FURY UNLEASHED
- RELICTA
- FAMILY MAN
- VANE
- SHENMUE III
- MAIN ASSEMBLY
- ROCK OF AGES 3: MAKE & BREAK
- AVEN COLONY
- IN OTHER WATERS
- AVEN COLONY
- SIMULACRA + SIMULACRA 2
- COLT CANYON
- SKULLY
- POPUP DUNGEON
- XCOM: CHIMERA SQUAD
- HOTSHOT RACING
- PEAKY BLINDERS: MASTERMIND
- CYBER HOOK
- PESTERQUEST
- AGELESS
- BOREAL BLADE
- MOVING OUT
- THE WILD EIGHT
- VALFARIS
- TRAIN STATION RENOVATION
- LOVECRAFT'S UNTOLD STORIES
- WEREWOLF: THE APOCALYPSE HEART OF THE FOREST
- BOOMERANG FU
- IRIS AND THE GIANT
- CRYING SUNS
- DARKSBURG
- SMILE FOR ME
- DARKWOOD
- ROVER MECHANIC SIMULATOR
- TSIOQUE
- TOWNSMEN - A KINGDOM REBUILT
- YOUROPA
- IRON DANGER
- SHADOWS: AWAKENING
- AUTONAUTS
- FANTASY BLACKSMITH
- THE UNCERTAIN: LAST QUIET DAY
- GOAT OF DUTY
- BASEMENT
- RAILWAY EMPIRE
- BEAT HAZARD 2
- METAL UNIT
- SIGMA THEORY: GLOBAL COLD WAR
- DON'T ESCAPE: 4 DAYS TO SURVIVE
- VERLET SWING
- EARTHLOCK
- BASINGSTOKE
- Vikings - Wolves of Midgard
- XCOM® 2 + 2 DLC
- NICHE - A GENETICS SURVIVAL GAME
- THE SWORDS OF DITTO: MORMO'S CURSE
- WARSAW
- NEOVERSE
- MO:ASTRAY
- HORACE
- CHESS ULTRA
- Planet Coaster - World's Fair Pack
January 2020 Humble Choice
- DiRT Rally 2.0 - H2 RWD Double Pack
- DiRT Rally 2.0 - Opel Manta 400
- Dirt Rally 2.0 - Porsche 911 RGT Rally Spec
- GRIP: Combat Racing Artifex DLC
- Fluffy Horde
- Sword Legacy Omen
- 11-11 Memories Retold
- Evergarden
- Shenmue I & II
- Avernum 3: Ruined World
- Override: Mech City Brawl
- Planet Alpha
- The Spiral Scouts
- Distance
- God's Trigger
- State of Mind
- Crusader Kings II: The Republic
- August 2019 Humble Monthly
- The Adventure Pals
- Almost There: The Platformer
- Swords and Soldiers 2 Shawarmageddon
- Yoku's Island Express
- 60 Parsecs!
- Love is Dead
- NAIRI: Tower of Shirin
- Road Redemption
- 911 Operator
- 911 Operator - Special Resources DLC
- Duskers
- Paratopic
- Pool Panic
- Do Not Feed the Monkeys
- Finding Paradise
- I'm not a Monster
- The Journey Down: Chapter Three
- Monster Prom
- Dandara
- MINIT
- She Remembered Caterpillars
- Steel Rats
- Fight'N Rage
- Late Shift
- Paradigm
- Slipstream
- Age of Wonders II: The Wizard's Throne
- Darkest Hour: A Hearts of Iron Game
- Magicka 2 Deluxe Edition DLC Upgrade
- Moon Hunters
- NBA Playgrounds
- AER Memories of Old
- Laser League
- Subterrain
- The Elder Scrolls: Legends: 2 Card Packs (Skyrim) 1 Event Ticket 100 Gold 100 Souls
- Quake Champions Early Access plus 50 Shards, 100 Platinum, 2000 Favor
2024.05.18 11:17 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)
My IGS Profile
My Steam Profile
APRIL 2024 GAMES
*LIFE IS STRANGE: TRUE COLORS *SCORN *DESTROY ALL HUMANS 2! REPROBED *BEACON PINES *THERE IS NO LIGHT: ENHANCED EDITION *CHILDREN OF SILENTOWN *OAKEN *SNOWTOPIA: SKI RESORT BUILDER
JANUARY 2024 GAMES
*MARVEL'S MIDNIGHT SUNS DIGITAL+ EDITION *MIDNIGHT SUNS - DOCTOR STRANGE DEFENDERS SKIN *TWO POINT CAMPUS *ARAGAMI 2 *ROGUEBOOK *THE RED LANTERN *HELL PIE *TWIN MIRROR
DECEMBER 2023 GAMES
*EXPEDITIONS: ROME *MIDNIGHT FIGHT EXPRESS *ELEX II *LAST CALL BBS *FROM SPACE *GET TWO MONTHS OF IGN PLUS
NOVEMBER 2023 GAMES
*HARDSPACE: SHIPBREAKER *UNPACKING *FRIENDS VS FRIENDS *PRODEUS *THE LEGEND OF TIANDING *SCP: SECRET FILES *SOULDIERS
OCTOBER 2023 GAMES
*METAL HELLSINGER *DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES *REBEL INC: ESCALATION *SPIRIT OF THE ISLAND *LORDS AND VILLEINS *A JUGGLER'S TALE *MR. PREPPER
SEPTEMBER 2023 GAMES
*THE FORGOTTEN CITY *ACES & ADVENTURES *PATCH QUEST *FORETALES *WHO PRESSED MUTE ON UNCLE MARCUS *AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
AUGUST 2023 GAMES
*CHIVALRY 2 *ROAD 96 *TREK TO YOMI *ARCADE PARADISE *SUCHART: GENIUS ARTIST SIMULATOR *TIN CAN *HOT BRASS *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JULY 2023 GAMES
*YAKUZA 4 REMASTERED *ROADWARDEN *KRAKEN ACADEMY!! *MERCHANT OF THE SKIES *OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JUNE 2023 GAMES
*CURSE OF THE DEAD GODS *HONEY I JOINED A CULT *ETERNAL THREADS *GRIME *TURBO GOLF RACING *MEEPLE STATION
MAY 2023 GAMES
*WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS GATE - DAEMONHUNTERS *SPIRITFARER: FAREWELL EDITION *BENDY AND THE DARK REVIVAL *OPERATION: TANGO *WINDJAMMERS 2 *BUILDER SIMULATOR *BEHIND THE FRAME: THE FINEST SCENERY *THE INVISIBLE HAND
APRIL 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*ROLLERDROME *LIFE IS STRANGE 2: COMPLETE SEASON *THE LIFE AND SUFFERING OF SIR BRANTE *MONSTER PROM 2: MONSTER CAMP *REVITA *FOUNDERS' FORTUNE
MARCH 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*BIOMUTANT *EDGE OF ETERNITY *HERO'S HOUR *ROGUE LORDS *DEMON TURF *GOLDEN LIGHT *MONSTER CROWN
FEBRUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*PATHFINDER: WRATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS *FALLOUT 76 + FALLOUT 1 *THRONEBREAKER: THE WITCHER TALES *OTHERCIDE *SHADY PART OF ME *SCOURGEBRINGER *FOBIA - ST. DINFNA HOTEL *FIVE DATES
JANUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*TRIBES OF MIDGARD *ENCASED: A SCI-FI POST-APOCALYPTIC RPG *OLLIOLLI WORLD - RAD EDITION *GROW: SONG OF THE EVERTREE *CONAN CHOP CHOP *HOKKO LIFE *THE SERPENT ROGUE
DECEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*GREEDFALL *FIRST CLASS TROUBLE *BACKBONE *TOEM *WHERE THE WATER TASTES LIKE WINE *BLADE ASSAULT *SUPER MAGBOT
NOVEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*KINGDOMS OF AMALUR: RE-RECKONING - FATE EDITION *SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE *ROBOQUEST *ELDEST SOULS *UNMETAL *RAJI: AN ANCIENT EPIC *MORBID: THE SEVEN ACOLYTES
OCTOBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*DEATHLOOP *MONSTER TRAIN (FIRST CLASS - COLLECTORS EDITION) *DISCIPLES: LIBERATION *MAID OF SKER *EPIC CHEF *RAILROAD CORPORATION *GOLF GANG
SEPTEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
January 2020 Humble Choice
submitted by Aggelos2001 to indiegameswap [link] [comments]
My Steam Profile
APRIL 2024 GAMES
- THE CALLISTO PROTOCOL
- HUMANKIND DEFINITIVE EDITION
- FASHION POLICE SQUAD
- TERRAFORMERS
- SYMPHONY OF WAR: THE NEPHILIM SAGA
- COROMON
- THE EXCAVATION OF HOB'S BARROW
- WARHAMMER AGE OF SIGMAR: REALMS OF RUIN – ULTIMATE EDITION
- NIOH 2 - THE COMPLETE EDITION
- SAINTS ROW
- CITIZEN SLEEPER
- BLACK SKYLANDS
- SOULSTICE
- AFTERIMAGE
- DESTROYER: THE U-BOAT HUNTER
*LIFE IS STRANGE: TRUE COLORS *SCORN *DESTROY ALL HUMANS 2! REPROBED *BEACON PINES *THERE IS NO LIGHT: ENHANCED EDITION *CHILDREN OF SILENTOWN *OAKEN *SNOWTOPIA: SKI RESORT BUILDER
JANUARY 2024 GAMES
*MARVEL'S MIDNIGHT SUNS DIGITAL+ EDITION *MIDNIGHT SUNS - DOCTOR STRANGE DEFENDERS SKIN *TWO POINT CAMPUS *ARAGAMI 2 *ROGUEBOOK *THE RED LANTERN *HELL PIE *TWIN MIRROR
DECEMBER 2023 GAMES
*EXPEDITIONS: ROME *MIDNIGHT FIGHT EXPRESS *ELEX II *LAST CALL BBS *FROM SPACE *GET TWO MONTHS OF IGN PLUS
NOVEMBER 2023 GAMES
*HARDSPACE: SHIPBREAKER *UNPACKING *FRIENDS VS FRIENDS *PRODEUS *THE LEGEND OF TIANDING *SCP: SECRET FILES *SOULDIERS
OCTOBER 2023 GAMES
*METAL HELLSINGER *DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES *REBEL INC: ESCALATION *SPIRIT OF THE ISLAND *LORDS AND VILLEINS *A JUGGLER'S TALE *MR. PREPPER
SEPTEMBER 2023 GAMES
*THE FORGOTTEN CITY *ACES & ADVENTURES *PATCH QUEST *FORETALES *WHO PRESSED MUTE ON UNCLE MARCUS *AUTONAUTS VS PIRATEBOTS
AUGUST 2023 GAMES
*CHIVALRY 2 *ROAD 96 *TREK TO YOMI *ARCADE PARADISE *SUCHART: GENIUS ARTIST SIMULATOR *TIN CAN *HOT BRASS *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JULY 2023 GAMES
*YAKUZA 4 REMASTERED *ROADWARDEN *KRAKEN ACADEMY!! *MERCHANT OF THE SKIES *OZYMANDIAS: BRONZE AGE EMPIRE SIM *SHOTGUN KING: THE FINAL CHECKMATE
JUNE 2023 GAMES
*CURSE OF THE DEAD GODS *HONEY I JOINED A CULT *ETERNAL THREADS *GRIME *TURBO GOLF RACING *MEEPLE STATION
MAY 2023 GAMES
*WARHAMMER 40,000: CHAOS GATE - DAEMONHUNTERS *SPIRITFARER: FAREWELL EDITION *BENDY AND THE DARK REVIVAL *OPERATION: TANGO *WINDJAMMERS 2 *BUILDER SIMULATOR *BEHIND THE FRAME: THE FINEST SCENERY *THE INVISIBLE HAND
APRIL 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*ROLLERDROME *LIFE IS STRANGE 2: COMPLETE SEASON *THE LIFE AND SUFFERING OF SIR BRANTE *MONSTER PROM 2: MONSTER CAMP *REVITA *FOUNDERS' FORTUNE
MARCH 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*BIOMUTANT *EDGE OF ETERNITY *HERO'S HOUR *ROGUE LORDS *DEMON TURF *GOLDEN LIGHT *MONSTER CROWN
FEBRUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*PATHFINDER: WRATH OF THE RIGHTEOUS *FALLOUT 76 + FALLOUT 1 *THRONEBREAKER: THE WITCHER TALES *OTHERCIDE *SHADY PART OF ME *SCOURGEBRINGER *FOBIA - ST. DINFNA HOTEL *FIVE DATES
JANUARY 2023 HUMBLE CHOICE
*TRIBES OF MIDGARD *ENCASED: A SCI-FI POST-APOCALYPTIC RPG *OLLIOLLI WORLD - RAD EDITION *GROW: SONG OF THE EVERTREE *CONAN CHOP CHOP *HOKKO LIFE *THE SERPENT ROGUE
DECEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*GREEDFALL *FIRST CLASS TROUBLE *BACKBONE *TOEM *WHERE THE WATER TASTES LIKE WINE *BLADE ASSAULT *SUPER MAGBOT
NOVEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*KINGDOMS OF AMALUR: RE-RECKONING - FATE EDITION *SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE *ROBOQUEST *ELDEST SOULS *UNMETAL *RAJI: AN ANCIENT EPIC *MORBID: THE SEVEN ACOLYTES
OCTOBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*DEATHLOOP *MONSTER TRAIN (FIRST CLASS - COLLECTORS EDITION) *DISCIPLES: LIBERATION *MAID OF SKER *EPIC CHEF *RAILROAD CORPORATION *GOLF GANG
SEPTEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
- THE DUNGEON OF NAHEULBEUK: THE AMULET OF CHAOS
- FORGIVE ME FATHER
- CROWN TRICK
- DESCENDERS
- INDUSTRIA
- LEGEND OF KEEPERS
- LAWN MOWING SIMULATOR
- BANNERS OF RUIN
- YES, YOUR GRACE
- ATOM RPG TRUDOGRAD
- STAR WARS SQUADRONS
- PHOENIX POINT: YEAR ONE EDITION
- CALL OF THE SEA
- GAMEDEC
- PUMPKIN JACK
- SIEGE SURVIVAL: GLORIA VICTIS
- I AM FISH
- SUPERHOT: MIND CONTROL DELETE
- COMMAND & CONQUER REMASTERED COLLECTION
- SURVIVING THE AFTERMATH
- IF FOUND...
- GENESIS NOIR
- EMBR
- MONSTER SANCTUARY
- SUZERAIN
- CHICKEN POLICE
- NARUTO TO BORUTO: SHINOBI STRIKER
- MARCH 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
- RED SOLSTICE 2: SURVIVORS
- POLICE STORIES
- EVAN'S REMAINS
- BLACK BOOK
- PER ASPERA
- JUST DIE ALREADY
- BEFORE WE LEAVE
- PARADISE LOST
- EVERHOOD
- EVERHOOD
- AMNESIA: REBIRTH
- JOHN WICK HEX
- RING OF PAIN
- GUTS AND GLORY
- THE TEXTORCIST: THE STORY OF RAY BIBBIA
- GARAGE: BAD TRIP
- HIVESWAP FRIENDSIM
- TOOLS UP
- SYBERIA 3
- BLACK FUTURE '88
- CEPHEUS PROTOCOL
- DRAKE HOLLOW
- BLUE FIRE
- ENCODYA
- HAMMERTING
- KILL IT WITH FIRE
- BEE SIMULATOR
- S.W.I.N.E. HD REMASTER
- DEADLY DAYS
- STUBBS THE ZOMBIE IN REBEL WITHOUT A PULSE
- WORMS RUMBLE + LEGENDS PACK DLC
- PANZER PALADIN
- GOING UNDER
- MILKY WAY PRINCE - THE VAMPIRE STAR
- DESOLATE
- PAW PAW PAW
- IKENFELL
- DISJUNCTION
- EFFIE
- HELLPOINT
- COOK, SERVE, DELICIOUS! 3
- FURY UNLEASHED
- RELICTA
- FAMILY MAN
- VANE
- SHENMUE III
- MAIN ASSEMBLY
- ROCK OF AGES 3: MAKE & BREAK
- AVEN COLONY
- IN OTHER WATERS
- AVEN COLONY
- SIMULACRA + SIMULACRA 2
- COLT CANYON
- SKULLY
- POPUP DUNGEON
- XCOM: CHIMERA SQUAD
- HOTSHOT RACING
- PEAKY BLINDERS: MASTERMIND
- CYBER HOOK
- PESTERQUEST
- AGELESS
- BOREAL BLADE
- MOVING OUT
- THE WILD EIGHT
- VALFARIS
- TRAIN STATION RENOVATION
- LOVECRAFT'S UNTOLD STORIES
- WEREWOLF: THE APOCALYPSE HEART OF THE FOREST
- BOOMERANG FU
- IRIS AND THE GIANT
- CRYING SUNS
- DARKSBURG
- SMILE FOR ME
- DARKWOOD
- ROVER MECHANIC SIMULATOR
- TSIOQUE
- TOWNSMEN - A KINGDOM REBUILT
- YOUROPA
- IRON DANGER
- SHADOWS: AWAKENING
- AUTONAUTS
- FANTASY BLACKSMITH
- THE UNCERTAIN: LAST QUIET DAY
- GOAT OF DUTY
- BASEMENT
- RAILWAY EMPIRE
- BEAT HAZARD 2
- METAL UNIT
- SIGMA THEORY: GLOBAL COLD WAR
- DON'T ESCAPE: 4 DAYS TO SURVIVE
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2024.05.18 11:16 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)
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2024.05.18 11:06 FFRBP777 Chariot Chaos
Hey, so you ever get a birthday present that's so not your style, but you really can't return it because it'd be really awkward? Normally it's like, I dunno. Shoes, or shirts or something like that, right?
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
I’d like to say that I did something else. Like I defeated an army of drakons on my way, or managed to fight off crazed demigods sent by my dad…but no. It was pretty much just traffic the rest of the way there. It was long and arduous, but I managed to make my way over to The Intrepid. After that traffic,I had to say, the amount of crazy drivers was almost San Francisco bad. I’d have taken as many spartoi and boars as dad could throw at me, if it meant I wasn’t drowning in the sea of cars. I drove down Pier 86, feeling a sense of relief as I got closer and closer to the aircraft carrier turned museum. As I got within eyeshot, I realized that dad said to take it to the temple, but not where to drop it off at.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
OOC: And there we have it! The final David storymode relevant to this storyline! I meant to have this yesterday but I didn't see the modmail that gave me the okay until literally an hour ago oop. Which means that yes, the Chariot and Ares both are approved from the mods.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!
submitted by FFRBP777 to CampHalfBloodRP [link] [comments]
For me it was four fire-breathing horses.
Okay, so I should clarify. My dad didn't really give me four fire-breathing ponies to keep. It was more of a test for him to treat me like his son again.
See, I just recently got out of a Styx oath that would have led me to eternal damnation if I didn't fulfill it. It's a long story, but to keep it short: I swore an oath on the Styx to be a brave hero by my eighteenth birthday when I really should have just pinkie promised. But yeah. My dad, God of War and dad of the year took it well. …In that he pretty much said that I was a waste of space, disowned me and he'd personally hand me over to the Styx for eternal damnation.
Nice guy. Really should get into motivational speeches.
The night before, after riding the high of not having the threat of being sent to Super Hell I had a pretty bad dream. I mean, it wasn’t the normal David nightmare. It wasn't me killing endless hordes of monsters while my dad laughed at how pathetic I was.
Well, half of that. It was just my dad. To be honest, rather I’d take the monsters.
He was laughing at me, with that smug face of his, in that all-leather biker outfit with the shades that made him look even more like an asshole, as if that's hard to believe.
Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to cuss. Anyways yeah. Me and my dad. Not the best relationship, even by demigod standards.
He gave me a toothy grin, like a shark’s as he circled around me. I instinctively stood up straight, at attention. As much as I hate my dad, ticking off a god is a pretty dumb thing to do. Plus, I was pretty dumbfounded to see him here in my dream of all things.
“Well, color me surprised. To be honest, boy, I thought I'd end up taking care of this myself. So, congratulations on that front. But, sorry to burst your bubble, it might be good enough for ol’ Styxy but…it’s not good enough for me. But, you know, I'm a generous guy! Prove me you're a warrior. Do that, and I'll welcome you back in the family with open arms. I even got the perfect way for you to prove yourself.”
Without warning, he tossed me a set of keys with a miniature boar-headed keychain and a really big switchblade on the end of it. I fumbled with it before slipping it into my pocket.
“An oldie but a goodie. Used to let my sons prove themselves to me all the time with this one. Now, I'm sure once you see what I got planned you'll know the rules, considering you're a fuckin’ nerd. But in case you forget…”
He lowered his shades, revealing balls of fire as he glared right at me.
“Sundown. My temple. Don't be late or I'll toss you in the Styx myself. Well! Have fun, yeah? I'm looking forward to watching you fail this one, like your last quest. Now, get up. Clock’s ticking after all…”
“Gaah!”
I snapped my eyes open, falling out of my bed and onto the hard floor under me. As soon as I hit the floor, I could hear one of my many siblings start to stir from their sleep. Immediately, my sister Tiffany started to sigh as she shot up from her bed. I could see her pastel pink sleep mask perched on her head as she glared into the darkness of the early morning. She groaned in frustration, her words cutting through the quiet of the dawn.
"What the hell are you idiots doing?"
To be fair, I could see why she’d think that. Most of my siblings were fond of pranking each other every now and then. The chaos of the Ares cabin was unmatched from most cabins, except maybe Hermes. But, when you cut off her beauty sleep, the threat of an angry Tiff was usually was enough to make nighttime a truce. Usually.
My sister rubbed her eyes and looked down at me. I sheepishly gave a smile as I rubbed my head, still sore from when it hit the floor.
"Seriously, David?"
Tiffany got out of bed and silently made her way to me. She wordlessly held out a hand and I grasped at it as she pulled me up.
"Thanks Tiff. I had this dream, where Dad called me a nerd and was talking to me about testing me now that my Styx Oath is..."
I felt something hard and metallic poke against my leg, from my sweats pocket. I pulled out the unfamiliar object and to my surprise, there were the same keys from my dream. My eyes widened as I realized that my dream was a little bit more than usual demigod stuff.
"Oh. That...wasn't a dream."
She raised an eyebrow as she looked at the keys that sat in my hand. I played with the accessories, absentmindedly feeling the boar head and the switchblade knife. She leaned in, peering at the keys as the dawn started to rise.
"What the hell are those for?"
She looked to the keys, then back at my face, and then the keys again. She looked at me as if I just said that Kronos was about to come back and throw an ice cream party courtesy of the Titans.
"You're telling me Dad gave those to you or something? You're joking. Have to be."
I shook my head, but I could see why she thought so. I was pretty sure I was near the bottom, if not at the bottom of his list of favorite kids. If I was being honest, I was pretty sure he wanted me dead more than a few times.
"Tiff, you know that I'm not exactly Dad's favorite by a long shot. Why would I say something like that and risk him getting even mad more mad at me because of my lying? Dad disowned me, remember? He mentioned something along the line in my dream that if I pass his test I'd be treated as one of his sons again but he didn't mention what it..."
The gears started turning as I looked at the keys in my hands.
”A test…keys…sundown…oh no. Oh, no.”
I immediately pocketed up my keys and started putting on my shoes. No time for pants, sweats would do just fine, I just had to make sure to take my wallet with me, considering I was going to New York now. I had to be quick or this test was over before it even started.
"No. I...I think I know what it is. But if I'm right, then shoot I gotta get going then! Before our brothers take it."
In hindsight, I probably should have told Tiff a bit about my thoughts. But, the more I delayed the more issues that could have cropped up. I just had to make sure it was safe.
"Take what? Where the hell are you going?!"
I burst out of the cabin, staring at what was in front of our cabin. I felt a bit of nervousness bubble up as my thoughts were proven true. Tiffany was close behind me as she walked outside our cabin. I looked at her face and caught an expression of wonder as whatever she was going to ask me was forgotten. Parked in front of the cabin was a red and gold Harley. The seat was white leather and gave a sorta…humany vibe to it that I did not wanna think about. Only one thing came to mind, something I knew instinctively from the moment I saw it. Dad's War Chariot.
Or as the god of war would call it, his chariot.
"I...I think dad wants me to take his ride for a spin."
I ran my hand over the cold metal, and I realized what Dad meant about the “oldie but a goodie.” A while back, before the Second Titan war ended, and all of the children of the gods had to be claimed, there was a ritual all sons of Ares went through. It was something all my brothers did at fifteen. Drive around his Chariot and return it before sundown. It wasn't easy, my Godly siblings, Phobos and Deimos both loved to mess with whoever was in charge of the chariot at the time. And you had to deal with monsters too, but overall when it came to demigod stuff it wasn’t the most dangerous around. I dunno if that says a lot about how dangerous this life can get though.
But, shortly after the then-counselor Clarisse La Rue became the first girl to do it, Dad pulled the plug. I dunno if it was good ol’ sexism, someone totaling it, or dad not wanting to let all of his kids drive his ride, either way it wasn't super common nowadays. It wasn't like he stopped, but it was something given, not a right. Dad letting me do this was him at least giving me a chance to prove myself to be one of his kids, which was more than I expected to be honest.
I took a breath as I looked at Dad’s ride, feeling a pit of unease in my stomach as I started to climb in. If it wouldn't end up with me being tormented for the rest of my short life, I'd tell him no and go back to sleep. But, telling a god no, especially my dad is a neat way to be turned into a rodent. Or a fine red paste. Or a rodent that would be turned into said paste.
Tiffany's brows furrowed as she processed my words, a layer of disbelief on her face as she chewed over it.
You? He wants you to drive it? I...that...what the hell?"
I fought off a wince as she looked at me, then the ride, then back at me again. I could tell she was a bit annoyed. I mean, yeah from her perspective I was singled out by dad to do something she probably wanted to do for a while. I felt a pit of guilt in my stomach, it wasn't fair, really. But at the same time I had to do this.
"I mean, seriously? He must be out-"
She cut herself off. Calling my dad crazy was another way to get turned into a rat that would then be turned into a fine paste. Actually a lot of things carried the threat, my dad is kinda a jerk. I sighed, figuring I might as well tell her about why Dad was doing this. I didn't wanna hide it, but it's not like I like to talk about the fact that I've been disowned for two years. She knew, most of us did. But it's not something I like bringing up, because yeah. It sucks.
"I read a bit about previous Ares campers. He used to do this more often, at first only his sons did, but later his daughters could. I dunno why he stopped but, this isn't really like he's doing it because he's proud of me. I'm sorta disowned, remember? He said if I can drive the chariot, he'll take me back as one of you guys again. It's...more of a test to earn myself back into his good graces, I think.”
Tiffany listened to my explanation, not saying anything for a bit She looked a bit bothered about the fact that I was chosen to drive the Chariot, which again, not surprising.
"Ugh, I guess that makes sense."
I could hear the frustration in her voice as she crossed her arms. I winced again, preparing for her to resent or hate me. But to my surprise, I heard her add more in a softer voice.
"Well, don't get yourself killed trying to pass this stupid test, I don't want to have to explain to everyone why you're not coming back."
Her icy tone defrosted as she looked back at me with a bit of concern in her eyes. She seemed less annoyed and more worried about me, which was sweet. Not that I'd let her hear that. I hoped that maybe, dad would let her give it for a spin later down the road. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. I gave a nervous laugh as I took the keys out of my pocket.
"Of course, I passed my Styx Oath, didn't I? It'd be really dumb of me to die right after barely avoiding that, right? Oh, yeah. If Ellie asks for me, tell her about dad's little test he has for me. Hopefully it won't be too long but you know how it is with godly stuff. I should be back in time for us to hang out for the rest of my birthday once I do this for dad. I'll bring back something cool!”
I felt my trepidation fade away as I prepared to drive. Lots of my siblings dreamed of piloting the chariot. It wouldn't be right to reject the opportunity when it was given to me. And, who knows? Getting back in Dad's good graces (or as much as one can get in them) might help me out. At least I would have one less target on my back. As I sat down in the white leather seat, I put the keys in the ignition and instantly it began to morph.
OOC:Read this while listening to whats coming up
The front split apart into one steel horse that slowly split into two, and then four cream-colored horses that looked around with a cruel intelligence. The seat dipped, and warped before it became a horse-drawn chariot I was now standing in. The chariot was gold and blood red, adorned with the lovely images of people dying gruesome deaths, because Dad's taste in decor is somewhere between military surplus and serial killer, apparently.
“Okay…so, I need to get to Dad's temple before sundown. I don't know New York highways though, so how can I…oh hey! A gps!”
My fingers brushed against a touch screen set up on the chariot and punched The Intrepid into the coordinates. I gave one last wave to my sister before I lashed the horses and they immediately took off. I led them out of camp easily enough, but as we reached the highway they sped up to an impossible speed for a chariot. Their speed was even faster than any cars on the highway, rivaling the time that Aphrodite camper drove us to the beach once. I pulled back on the reins, trying to get them to slow down. Instead, they gave a rebellious snort and went even faster.
I would like to say that I embraced my inner Ares kid and relished the challenge. But I'm not going to lie, when you end up going past 80 MPH in a chariot, you tend to think you're going to die, fun fact. I screamed for most of the way, yanking and pulling at their reins so we could bob and weave through traffic.
It's a bit of a drive from Camp Half-Blood to New York City, I know it well, it’s a pretty common place for me to go for some monster slaying. But, up until now, I've been in the passenger seat while Argus drives. The speed of the horses really made the time go by faster. As we entered the city, the horses started to slow down and I felt a ray of hope as I started to steer them through the city. I gave a triumphant laugh as I looked down at my ETA. It was surprisingly quick, considering how congested New York can get. And I didn't see hide or hair of either one of my godly brothers, so I felt pretty good, all things considered.
“Huh. That's weird. There's not many cars today…my luck must be turning around!”
“Traffic update: Incoming Monsters. Rerouting. Cannot reroute.”
“Huh?”
Immediately, a massive boar the size of a garbage truck burst from a nearby alley way behind me. Behind the massive pig, two armored bank cars recklessly merged into traffic. One leaned out, revealing a gray-skinned human in body armor brandishing a shotgun.
“Of course! I had to open my big mouth! Is there anything that I’m going to have to deal with?”
“You are on the fastest route!”
“Well that’s just GREAT! Now I can be on the quickest way to the underworld!”
”Rerouting to: D.O.A. Records, Los Angeles.”
“Woah, woah, woah, no! Keep me on The Intrepid! The Intrepid!”
Seeing all these enemies together though, I started to put a thought in my head. They all had something in common, now that I saw them all in front of me. A boar was sacred to Ares, Spartoi too came from a dragon sacred to him. I put the pieces together as I saw the monsters come out of the woodwork and all to me. Now things made sense. The lack of Phobos and Deimos, the sacred beings to Ares, the lack of mortals on the street.
I didn't see my siblings because Dad wanted to mess with me personally.
Even now, I don't know if he wanted to test me in a Spartan way, or if he just wanted to get rid of me without kinslaying. Either way, I couldn't back down now. Not when I was so close. I snapped on the reins and the rebellious horses continued on their path, bickering and weaving left and right as they snorted and whinnied.
I heard the wiz of something traveling through the air and quickly moved out of the way. A metal feather hit the chariot, bouncing off the hull and onto the ground. I looked up and saw a few birds. They were black and crow-like, but their feathers had a metallic sheen, like iron. Their wings flapped and I heard the sound of metal on metal as they soared above me.
“Dad called in feather-shooters too? Come on!”
I steered left and right as I evaded the metal feathers shooting at me. The newcomers behind me quickly gained as I bobbed and weaved. I had to figure a way out of this, and fast. Problem was, I was quickly outnumbered and outmatched. I wasn't the best at archery, and my sword could shoot a blast of force, courtesy of the then Forgemaster. Main issue was it took a bit to charge, and I couldn't take them on so high up.
I couldn't run. I needed to fight out of this. But even if I could fight the two Spartoi and the big pig, the problem was the birds. I didn't have a ranged option…or did I? I looked to the horses, breathing embers as they huffed and pulled the chariot further on. Ares kids couldn't talk to horses, but these were godly horses. They seemed smarter than your average horse. Maybe I could talk them into behaving, the same way I got some of my siblings to listen to the plan during Capture the Flag.
“Hey guys, are you bored? I'm sure Dad and my brothers take all the good fights, huh? You know, if you guys continue fighting each other, I might lose this and you guys will miss out on a good fight.”
At first, I thought it fell on deaf ears. But then, they stopped their jostling and started to take a more unified path as we raced along the streets. Like I thought, they enjoyed a good fight as much as their owner did.
“That's what I like to see. Look, we're pretty surrounded right now. What do you say we rampage a bit before I take you guys home?”
An evil-sounding whinny came from the horses. I couldn’t really speak horse, but I took that as an okay and pointed at the birds above us. Did I feel stupid? Kinda. But as long as it worked, I couldn’t complain.
“See them? All yours. I'll cover you guys from the ground forces, and in exchange, you guys fall in line. Alright?”
A burst of fire came from one of the horses in response and I heard a loud squawk as it engulfed one of the feather-shooters. I breathed a sigh in relief as the rest of the birds started to scatter. They veered left and right in an attempt to avoid the flaming streams that were now sporadically being fired in their direction.
“Alright! Good job, I'll leave it to you!”
I gave a smile as I turned behind to my land-based foes, quickly gaining on me. I could hear the occasional woosh of fire as the horses fought the birds. One of the armored trucks caught up to my right and one of the spartoi leaned out of the vehicle. They aimed down the sights and pointed their shotgun at me.
“Sudden traffic in your area. You will be delayed by…five minutes. You are still on the fastest route!”
“Woah, that’s not fair! Come on Dad! A gun? Really!?”
I felt a tug in my stomach. It wasn’t something I could do a lot in a row without being exhausted, but I had some sorta pull when it came to weapons. When I gave a command, they were able to fall right out of their owner’s hands.
“Alright, let’s even the playerfield shall we?”
I held out my hand and they dropped it, the gun fell onto the ground, crushed by the wheels of the car. The second caught up to my left and once again, a spartoi leaned out of their car, weapon in hand.
“Another one!? Come on! How am I going to…”
I was jerked to the side as the horses suddenly veered right. At first, I thought it was the horses misbehaving again, but then a monstrous squeal came from behind me, rushing forwards.
Crash
I heard the sound of steel groaning as the boar rushed past the truck, pushing their truck out of the way as they aggressively charged forward. It was a good thing I managed to get out of the way, or else I would have been in trouble. I could see the spartoi shaking their fist as they spun out, their car massively dented with a massive gash in the armor. Now that I had to deal with two enemies, I decided to use the boar’s momentum to my advantage. I pulled back on the reins and the boar kept barreling on, too fast to stop as I made the chariot suddenly stop and then take a sudden turn away from the temple. The boar ran straight into a brick wall, seemingly dazed but otherwise okay.
”Rerouting...”
That temporarily took care of two of my enemies. Now that I had one to worry about, and my horses were pretty steady, I could start this fight in earnest. I kept one hand on the reins as I grabbed my Miku keychain. I unclipped it, and the keychain turned into a katana, with said keychain still on the bottom. It was my sword, Anime (I want to clarify, my friend Jules named it, not me). One of the Spartoi readied a spear and lunged at me. I parried it with my blade, and stabbed at their chest. I felt my blade plunge into their body. I pulled away at it, slashing at it again to tear it apart. To my disappointment though, the monster quickly reformed.
I don't know what I expected, to be honest. They wouldn't be much of an immortal soldier if they died after the first hit. But it bought me valuable time as we pushed forward. Almost as soon as its bones knit back together, it struck at me. I guarded once again, my sword starting to glow brighter and brighter with each strike. Our blades clashed and separated again and again for, I don’t know how long to be honest. I was putting up a good fight, but I just couldn’t gain the upperhand in that fight. For starters, if it was a monster or even a demigod it’d be ten ways to Tartarus at the moment. But, no matter how I sliced or diced it, the immortal soldier kept on coming back. Also, I just wasn't used to multitasking like that, I held on as tightly as I could, but the brief times I practiced Chariot combat with my friends Jules and Cel, I was either driving or fighting. Both at the same time was hard, and I was lucky that the horses were so cooperative.
I heard the whinny of one of the horses ahead as I looked back to the front. No sign of the birds meant that there was a few extra-crispy feather-shooters along the road somewhere, which was good news. But then, I looked out in front and realized that there was a big problem. One of the trucks we left behind somehow got in front of us, blocking the road with their car. Five spartoi were standing outside of the car, swords and spears drawn as they headed the chariot off.
At this moment, I knew I was screwed. I was too fast to just stop. And, even if I did stop, I’d have to deal with all the angry skeleton men chasing me down. I just winced, bracing for impact. But then, I heard a neigh as the horses pulling my chariot started to turn into steel and combined once more. The chariot started to shift, the creak of metal folding and turning. I quickly sheathed my sword as the reins turned into chrome handlebars which I gripped like my life depended on it. The chariot continued to morph until once again it was a motorcycle with flame patterns. I veered as left as I could, narrowly avoiding hitting the side of a nearby building as I sped past the skeletal blockade. I braked, motorcycle now turning back into the chariot form as I turned back and watched as the car that was chasing me slammed straight into the other.
The now pissed spartoi stumbled out of the wreckage and started to scream undead obscenities to each other. I couldn’t speak ghost, but whatever they said seemed to be pretty rude, because both sides started to unsheath their swords and get into an all-out brawl. One of the spartoi sliced the other in two, and they didn’t reform this time as their essence slid into their black sword.
Huh. Well, that was one way to deal with them.
“Whew! Good horses.”
I turned, ready to snap the reins once again, but I stopped as I saw what was waiting for me at the other end of the road. The boar, still very much on my trail stood in front of me. It pawed at the ground in front of it, and my horses started to do the same. I stared at the boar, unsheathing Anime once again as we stared off.
“Keep straight for…500 feet.”
The thing about boars is that they can be pretty deadly. They’re brutish and aggressive, and they go down fighting. You know the crossguard that’s near the pointy end of a spear? That’s so the animal doesn’t run up the spear to take you out with it. You don’t think them being that dangerous, but there’s a reason that dad’s symbol is a boar.
I had to make this quick, and efficient or I’d end up maimed, or worse. I snapped the reins one more time, and the horses started to dash down the street. The boar squealed as it barreled to me. I could see it get closer and closer. I grit my teeth, holding my blade in my right hand as it started to shine more and more brightly. My hand held onto the grip tightly, bracing for my next action.
I’d have one shot at this.
I miss, I’m dead.
I hesitate, I’m dead.
I don’t hit the vitals, I’m dead.
Time started to slow around me as I watched the boar rush at the chariot, enraged as it reached the point where there was no stopping it now. I could see the powerful muscles push and pull, the beast using all its power in an attempt to off me for good. I felt heat coming from the front as all four horses breathed a stream of flames at the swine. The boar kept on charging forwards, through the fire as the flames engulfed it. An angry squeal erupted from the inferno as it lept up from the sea of flames, still on fire as it used its strong legs to clear the horses and go straight for me.
Breathe in
I felt a sense of calm wash over me as I pulled my sword hand back. My blade shined brilliantly, even in the May sun. I watched it fall ever closer to me, the flames still eating away at the flesh. I stared into its ever-angry eyes, burning brighter than the flames surrounding it. I don’t falter. I’ve faced monsters that have crushed my bones. I don’t feel fear. I’ve fought creatures that could have killed me in five seconds. This is it. I need it to be perfect.
Breathe out.
SHING
I swung my blade and a rush of air followed it, making an arc that flew to the boar. I don’t doubt my skills. I simply watch, confident that this will end the monster once and for all. The blast, charged from my fight flew unimpeded. The beast’s chuffs turned into surprised squeal as it sliced the boar cleanly in two, bisecting it from the snout down. I sheathed my sword and put both hands back on the reins, eyes on the road as I barely watched what came next. The flaming boar started to fade into dust, still falling through the air until only a tusk was left. I held out my arm and caught it with my right hand.
“Oh hot, hot!”
I juggled it a bit with one hand before placing it down on the chariot floor. I grinned triumphantly as I realized what happened. Dad tried to test me, to see if I was “worthy” or he genuinely tried to kill me. Either way, I beat him this time, proving to him that I was more. That he underestimated me when we first met, that I was a brave warrior all along. In the end, I proved to him that I could fulfill my Styx oath even past what was expected of me. I laughed as I sped up, I felt pretty good about my victory. I wondered how his face would look, or if I could read his expression past his dumb sunglasses.
But as I rounded the corner, a terrifying sight came to my face as my glee turned to sorrow. I watched with horror as I realized Dad’s influence on the fight kept a more dangerous foe than any before at bay. Now that the fight was over, he had no reason to keep it around, and for once, I wasn’t sure if I could get through this unscathed. I gulped as I put my hands on the reins, not ready to face the impossible challenge alone. I hoped it wouldn’t break me as I prepared what little I had to fight this foe.
”There is an unusual amount of traffic in your area today.”
“Now you tell me…”
None other, than New York traffic.
It would be really stupid to end up failing just because I wasn’t sure where to leave dad’s ride. I got off the chariot, and was eyeing the prices of a ticket.
“Adults are thirty-six, Seniors and College Students…thirty four… Oh hey! Children of Ares get in free! Now, how do I wheel dad’s chariot through the front…”
Suddenly the side gate opened, lights flashing and clanging as it automatically retracted. The person standing in the booth waved me over and I hopped back onto the chariot, driving it by cautiously. They were dressed like a security guard, shades covering their eyes as they looked down onto their phone that they were absentmindedly playing with. Eyebrow piercings peeked out from behind the shades. They were tall, looked about early twenties, and seemed like your average bored museum guard, if not for that sorta godly aura I got from them.
“Take the chariot this way, Lord Ares will be at the end of Pier 86. Can’t miss him.”
I eyed the godling suspiciously. They seemed like one of those myriad younger and minor gods I saw when I was on Olympus. Not anyone I’d know, but if they wanted to stop me, it’d be annoying to get past them. They didn’t seem to be that dangerous, at least right now. But when you were a demigod, you learned to be wary of free handouts.
“Uh…look man, I’m going to be honest. I just got through some hellish traffic to get through here. So if like, you’re leading me into a trap or if my godly brothers are going to show up to try and take this, can you just start the fight and save me the trouble? It’s been a long morning, and I just wanna get this over with.”
I stared back at my reflection through their mirrored shades. Growing up, I always thought of myself as gangly and awkward. I could see my messed up hair, tousled from the wind. I stood tall, and although I wasn’t the buffest Ares kid around, you couldn’t call me skinny anymore. I looked almost heroic as I held the reins atop the chariot. Was that how I looked now? The godling shook their head as they chuckled, putting down their phone as they looked at me in the eyes.
“Kid, even for a god like Ares who likes conflict, you don’t do something like that in a temple. You can’t just attack his kid on his own grounds. Plus, it's part of the rules of war to respect neutralized zones. Trust me, you’re home free.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.”
He nodded and went back on his phone. I snapped on the reins and the chariot trotted along, even fire-breathing horses had to follow traffic laws apparently. I was on guard, not taking the godling’s words at face value. Mortals in a daze parted around the chariot, a few snapping pictures at me. I freaked out for a split second before I heard the tourists being in awe at what I heard to be a “vintage bomber”. Dumbfounded, I stopped for a brief second. It didn’t even have wings! But, I could see the mist shimmer around me and for a brief moment, see the silhouette of the plane around the chariot. It was an old fighter, a single propellor with flaming horse art on the nose.
“P-40B Warhawk? Alright, guess we’re working with that.”
I frowned a bit, trying to think if I knew that before this, from a school project or if it was more demigod shenanigans. I was never into fighter jets, but when you’re a demigod sometimes your parent’s godly influence shoves itself into your head and it’s always confusing when it does.
I drove the “plane” to the end of the pier, where I could see my dad sitting down on a barricade, blocking off a massive plane above him. It wasn’t used for war apparently, because I had no clue what type of plane it was. Looked cool though, it was really narrow around the nose end and the wings were all near the back end. He had a big wicked-looking combat knife in his hand that he used to clean his nails. He looked up at me, disinterestedly, before going back down to the knife.
“You’re alive.”
I couldn’t tell from his tone if that was a good or bad thing. It seemed… neutral. Like he was stating the sky was blue. But, overall I’d take that as a good thing, considering our last meeting. I spoke a bit warily, not sure if he was in a good or bad mood considering my victory.
“Uh, so Father. I’m finished with what you-”
“No. You’re not.”
“I’m not!? Do I need to do anything or-”
A moment of panic snuck up into my chest. For a brief moment I was afraid he was going to pull a twelve labors on me, but then he whistled and held out his hand.
“Not until you give me the keys kid, then it’s done.”
I hopped out of the chariot, the reins in my hand turning into keys as the horses went back into their motorcycle form. I somewhat clumsily tossed it to my dad, who grabbed it. He pushed himself off his perch, first making sure his motorcycle was unharmed. Then, he turned to me, eying me up and down as he circled around where I stood. I stood still, at attention as I felt my heart racing in my chest. I felt like a deer, cornered by a wolf just waiting to strike. Yet, the first pang of anxiety soon settled down. If he wanted to take care of me, he would have done so already. Or sent something more dangerous like a Drakon at me when I was driving. I felt my heart leap up into my throat as he clapped a big hand on my shoulder. The gesture wasn’t hostile, if anything, the motion seemed friendly. But his grip was anything but. His hand, like the claws of a tiger dug into my shoulder as he grinned at me.
“I have to say, I thought you were a lost cause, but look at you kid. Took you long enough, but I guess you have enough of me in you after all. Well, a late bloomer is better than being completely useless, but man! You were one of my most pathetic kids when you took that oath. I don’t think I had a kid as wimpy as you in a long time. Well, I’m glad my little nudge helped you keep that oath up after all. It would have been a waste of a perfectly good warrior if you didn’t shape up.”
I looked at him, dumbfounded. He helped me? He didn’t do anything! I wasn’t stupid enough to point it out, but I guess he knew what I was thinking as I felt his grip tighten as he growled.
“Come on, don’t give me that look, kid. Oh, don’t look so surprised. Tip of advice: don’t dip your toes into cards. You have a horrible poker face. Your mom was the same way. But, yes. I helped. Not that kids these days would understand. Parents these days are too soft, including most of us gods. Back in Sparta, we’d leave our kids to fend for themselves. Just give them barely enough food and let them hunt or steal the rest. If they end up dying in the hunt or starved, well that’s fine. They were too weak to do anything of note anyway. You should consider yourself lucky I was generous enough to just turn my back on you.”
He chuckled low, and my blood ran cold as he shook me. I shook my head, fighting off a wave of dizziness as he threatened to take off my arm.
“Oh, but that’s in the past! You passed your agōgē period, all by yourself. Now that is true strength.”
His evil grin widened as he gave me the closest thing to an approved look he’d ever given me. I furrowed my brow as I shook my head. This credit, it wasn’t mine to take, was it? Before I could think, I spoke what was on my mind.
“I’m sorry, but I didn’t do this by myself. Everywhere I went, I had someone to help me out. If it wasn’t for the help from my friends, I don’t think I would be standing here. I didn’t-”
My dad’s good mood instantly soured as his grin warped into a snarl. His grip, although somewhat friendly now seemed dangerously tight as he frustratingly interrupted me.
“Oh for the love of! I’m complimenting you, kid. Look. I don’t care about those other twerps one way or another. Allies are fine enough in war, as long as you don’t make them do all the work. Kid, you’ve gotten strong all on your own, like a true son of mine. Don’t deny you and me the kleos you rightfully deserve ever again. Shut up and just take the honor.”
“I…uh…yes, Dad.”
I was surprised that all it accounted to was a mild scolding. My dad, too seemed to calm down after I agreed with his words, as he went back to a smile. He put his hand back into his pocket as he started to walk up to his chariot. He ran his finger across the chrome finish, taking out a cloth and cleaning off my fingerprints from the metal.
“About your joyride. Not bad, not bad at all. It took you a bit to embrace your birthright, but you ended up not even scratching my ride. Nice. Nice. Saves me the trouble of buffing it out. Now, if you could only stop complaining at everything that opposed you. You’re a man, aren’t you David? Start acting like it. If you think a bag of bones and a pig are hard, just wait until your future. The stronger a warrior gets, the stronger their foes get. Make sure you’re strong enough to stand up against them before you end up a stain on the pavement.”
I heard the engine rev as he got into the seat. He threw a bag at me that I clumsily fumbled with before I fully caught it. I opened it, and a few golden drachmas shined back at me.
“Since your agōgē finished up, consider yourself un-cut off. Even I’m not heartless enough to leave a son of mine stranded in New York. Keep the rest. Feel free to hang around my temple, and help yourself to the gift shop if you want, it’s on the house, happy birthday and all that. Just don’t go overboard.”
He turned the motorcycle, wheeling it around so he could leave the pier. He turned around, giving me a few more parting words he shouted over the roar of the engine.
“Don’t think you’re done yet, David. You got a lot more to grow. Especially now that you can receive my blessings again. What, did you think that taking a good hit was all you can do? You’ll see sooner or later. See ya kid! Don’t disappoint me.”
He revved his engine one more time and took off, leaving me behind on the pier. As I watched my dad leave, I realized that with that resolved, the last of what made my Styx Oath so suffocating was finally finished. A part of me felt that I’d always keep the consequences of it with me. Either dad would continue to disown me, or I’d be horribly injured from my jobs. But, to my surprise, everything worked out alright. I worked as hard as I could, and now everything was over, truly over. I…wasn’t sure how I felt about it. I mean, like obviously I didn’t wanna have them with me for the rest of my life. But, for all of my oath’s lifespan I had the deadline looming overhead, and my expectation was that something would happen to me as a result. I was glad to have it over with, but I never felt that I could relax until now. The feeling of not having the anxiety of my imminent demise was something I wasn’t familiar with, and to be honest I still have trouble relaxing. As he disappeared into the afternoon traffic, I realized that, so too did my previous life.
Maybe…maybe I could afford to enjoy my life now after all.
Big thank you to Tiffany's writer, angelspoint for helping me with her parts, I had a blast working with them! Hope you enjoyed David's Victory lap!
2024.05.18 10:49 Gojira2021 Rewriting: Godzilla X Kong: The New Empire (2024) Part 3 The Conclusion to the Great Titan War.
The Beholder of Frost
submitted by Gojira2021 to Monsterverse [link] [comments]
- The Iwi are instantly thrown into a panic as the roar rings out into the caverns, and for a moment, silence replies when suddenly, the entirety of the Hollow Earth shudders as a deafening, thunderous bellow echoes with such ferocity, that parts of the ground collapsed into the earth from the intensity, the air quickly growing colder around them. Flakes of snow slowly fall from overhead, and the wind shifts instantly, becoming harsher and chillier as the Iwi immediately rush to hide in their temples, some even praying to the crystalline pyramids. Monarch gazes out into the distance behind the Skkar King’s throne, noticing a valley being swallowed by the largest snowstorm they could ever witness, parts of the Hollow Earth, and several smaller Titans being instantly frozen over as thunderous footsteps resonated from within the blizzard.
- Kong is frozen solid with growing panic as he watched an enormous shadow with icy, cerulean eyes peering back with savage hunger and seething rage, standing motionless as from behind Ares stomped out a quadrupedal creature bound in chains composed of ancient spinal cords. With pearlescent white scales, blue crystalline spines jutting down its back, a massive tail with a thagomizer made of the same crystals protruding from its end, and a crown-like formation of those crystal spines on its head, it was nearly as big as Ghidorah on all fours.
- Monarch is utterly speechless, following behind the Iwi as they duck for cover from the mountainous leviathan when Jia signs that she’s heard of the ice Titan once before, from legends told to her when she was a child; the Mother of all Old Gods, a primordial ruler as old as the planet itself and the beast who is said to be one of the first living creatures and the ancestors of all Titans, but legends referred to her simply as Shimo, the Beholder of Frost. The Iwi confirm the identity, remarking how the First God was beaten and whipped into submission by the Skkar King thousands of years ago, who uses the odd crystals around them as control, feeding Shimo fallen Titans in her own territory, an icy valley adorned with massive crystals and ancient, frozen pyramids, and using her frost powers to his bidding. The Skkar King commands Shimo with the large crystal to finish Kong off and discipline the insubordinate apes when he glances over at the edge of his den and notices a strange shimmering sight in the distance, to which he snarls out a menacing, toothed grin. Light. He could see the light from beyond the cavern.
- At the same time, Shimo bellows a thunderous warcry as its iridescent crystalline blades along her back glow and the air surrounding the Titans coalesces into a freezing haze, the ground beneath her cracking as the heat is sucked out of it, freezing instantly until she unleashes a concentrated blast of pure supercooled ice at absolute zero from her mouth right at Kong. Kong quickly dodges the blast as the impact causes jagged ice to splinter from the blast, stabbing right through one of the other apes, causing it to freeze instantly, its atoms slowing until ceasing all activity. Kong quickly escapes the tunnels out of the ape den with the Skkar King leaping onto Shimo and giving chase, riding Shimo like a valiant steed while hoisting Kong's axe in victory and ordering his apes to give chase. Jia, Andrews, and the rest of Monarch can do nothing but watch as the Skkar King rides Shimo through the Hollow Earth chasms, chasing after Kong who frantically tries to escape Ares and Shimo when he slams his fists into the walls of the tunnels, causing them to collapse just before Shimo can snap her jaws at him.
- Kong leaps up the sides of the chasm until he’s out of the caverns leading to the Skkar King’s den, only to feel a stinging pain as he notices a large patch of ice on his arm, resulting in an intense frostbite effect, to which he hobbles weakly back to the Monarch HEAT outpost before eventually passing out due to the pain. At the same time, Skkar returns to the den on Shimo and snatches the axe, raising it into the air and cheering triumphantly as he feels the first rays of light from the Hollow Earth in thousands of years, that they have a way to escape, and that it was time to begin his reign of terror, but Suko secretly sneaks away from the others, trying his best to find Kong.
- The Iwi in their village cower in fear as Ares and Shimo’s tumultuous roars echo through the caverns while Monarch attempts to understand what just happened, with Jia praying solemnly to the frozen ape Titan in the middle of the Skkar King's den while Ilene converses with Trapper and the Chen twins on what to do and how to escape. That’s when Ling Chen notices that some of the Iwi’s garments bear the same symbol as the Titan forever connected to their family bloodline, Mothra, and speaks to the Iwi Queen. She takes the main group into the crystal pyramids leading into a glowing, crystalline chamber, using a glowing liquid to highlight the cave murals etched into the rock and glowing with a multitude of colors from the Hollow Earth energy.
- They explain, with Jia translating via sign language, Andrews providing narration, and the cave paintings providing the visuals that Ares was once a member of a colony of Great Apes, with strong bonds with many other species, protecting the lands with a warrior's heart. Shimo was originally the alpha Titan inhabiting the Hollow Earth, creating a peaceful, thriving landscape while the Godzillas remained the alphas on the surface, enacting a mutual monster regime that kept many species from conflict. However, with the increasing conflicts between the Godzillas and the Kongs for resources, territory, and personal grudges on the horizon, a rogue Godzilla attacked the Kongs’ temple and ruthlessly killed the Skkar King’s mate and child, devouring the baby in front of Ares. With his entire family dead, Ares searched for anything to turn the tides in his favor against the Godzillas, and to seek vengeance for the loss of his family, eventually stumbling upon strange crystals deep within the Hollow Earth, powerful enough to force other Titans under its influence through unknown radiation signatures. However, there was one catch: The crystals were in a valley guarded by the hibernating Shimo, who had claimed the land as her territory millennia ago, creating an icy landscape for her own. When he tried to steal some of the crystals for himself, Shimo awoke and tried to defend herself with her frostbite blast until Skkar King managed to harness the slight electrical output the crystals gave, allowing him to essentially shock Shimo into submission. That was when she sensed the imbalance on the surface and in the Hollow Earth due to the Great Titan War raging on between the Godzillas and Kongs.
- Shimo could sense that both the Godzillas and the Kongs were becoming a scourge, a blight on the balance of nature for their destruction of the planet and petty conflicts, and wanted to return things to a purer time, agreeing to help Ares win the Titan war by wiping everything out and starting again. Now, the Skkar King and Shimo traversed the Hollow Earth, wiping out swaths of Titans and many tribal villages scattered about, breaking many sacred rules and taboos, and leading to the final conflict outside the Kongs’ ancient temple. However, with the help of Godzilla and a glowing, godly moth-like Titan simply known as “The Divinity,” they were able to lock the Skkar King, Shimo, and the remaining Kongs left in the Hollow Earth, away deep behind the mountains where none dared to venture, leaving them all to rot alone in solitude. The Iwi reveal that the Divinity was, in fact, an ancient member of Mothra’s species, who had sealed itself after the Great Titan War in a cocoon of transparent, near-invisible webbing infused with the radiation from the massive crystals around the village, preparing to awaken one day and restore the planet from the corruption slowly eating away at it.
- Andrews realizes that The Skkar King and Shimo want to make their way up to the surface to start their global invasion and that while Godzilla has been acting erratic for a while now, it’s because he’s preparing for the inevitable war between himself, Ares, and Shimo. She believes that the Skkar King and Shimo legitimately scare Godzilla and that the mere idea of Ares trying to oppose his rule again is enough to drive him into a ruthless, Titan-killing, city-destroying evolving panic. She realizes the Iwi sent the distress call because they, and even Godzilla, anticipated that Kong, searching for his kind, would soon discover the Skkar King's army. The Chens close the Iwi writings with a prophecy: at the end of the world, an Iwi from Skull Island and the blood of the Shobijin, another sect of Iwi originating from Infant Island, will come to save the world by summoning the Divinity, Mothra. They all realize this can only be referring to Jia and the Chens.
- However, Ilene mentions that he won’t be alone and that if they can somehow heal Kong and get him to persuade Godzilla to work together, they might have a chance, and the Chens see that in order for that to happen, they all must begin the ritual to wake up the elder Mothra. The idea alone terrifies Ilene, believing that Jia performing the ritual was too much for one child to handle, and reflects to Trapper that she promised herself to sacrifice whatever was necessary to give Jia a good life. She's realizing now that she may have to give up Jia herself to let her live with the Iwi, watching Jia quickly fit in amongst the Hollow Earth Iwi, but Trapper and the Chen twins remind her that Jia loves her, that she is a wonderful mother, and that Jia would want to stay with her, even if she’s found people like her and her ancestors.
- Meanwhile, on the surface world, Monarch had still been tracking Godzilla as he traveled across the world to counteract the now-weekly Titan attacks, all bearing the mark of the Skkar King, his body slowly evolving due to the sudden intake of immense radiation, essentially hyper-evolving behind the normal state of his species. Now in Greenland after leaving Europe by way of Cádiz, Spain, a Monarch submarine followed Godzilla as he uncharacteristically ventured into the territory of Titanus Tiamat, who’s been resting here due to the largest stockpile of energy on the planet due to the electrically charged solar winds it absorbs. Godzilla fires his atomic breath into Tiamat's icy lair, narrowly missing the submarine, to which she quickly emerges and uses her whirlpools and phosphorus ink to disorient him long enough for her to constrict him but he rips off a chunk of her flesh; she answers by biting his neck and trying to smother him with her cranial fins.
- But the fins fail to stop him from unleashing a blast of atomic breath, driving her, badly injuring her, away from the area, allowing him to claim the radioactive area as his own. Now unopposed, Godzilla entered her lair and began harnessing the electrically charged energy Tiamat had been feeding on, absorbing the radiating into his dorsal blades, turning his bioluminescent to a fluctuating purple and pink, his dorsal plates growing even more, becoming similar to Godzilla 2000’s dorsal designs. Ice had begun to form around Godzilla as he began a rapid hyper-evolutionary state, seemingly growing even more powerful in preparation for what seemed to be an inevitable war on the horizon.
- Atmospheric radiation in the area would decrease dramatically as Godzilla absorbs any radioactive energy around him to fuel his hyper-evolution while Monarch closely watches by, monitoring whatever happens. At the same time, Mark notices that Godzilla has been sending out infrasonic beacons to the Titans still residing on the surface world to move toward entryways to Hollow Earth/Axis Mundi and serve as guards/sentinels in case anything came out, mentioning how it seems that he’s preparing for what could be World War 3. However, Godzilla’s absence has now caused the dynamic of power on the surface to shift, with the rising amount of Titans bearing the Skkar King’s handprint almost every day, and various weather anomalies involving ice storms and blizzards appearing all over the globe.
- Simultaneously, down in the Hollow Earth, Kong, and an arriving Suko, rest outside the Monarch HEAT facility with personnel treating the severe frostbite that has overtaken his right hand and forearm, leaving it stiff and red with peeling skin and flesh. After sending out an emergency beacon from the Iwi village, a HEAV arrives in the village with Bernie and Mikael, both of whom are petrified after their trip through the Hollow Earth portals, with the former shakily filming everything he sees, including seeing what looked like a massive skeletal turtle sleeping next to some Iwi children. The Iwi soon opened their barrier to let in an arriving Kong and Suko after following the HEAV, allowing both apes to glimpse the realm of their worshippers before Kong collapses from exhaustion, but manages to sit up to touch a finger to Jia's hand. He signs to her that he lost his home before falling unconscious with Suko tearfully watching over him.
- Monarch reconvenes in one of the temple pyramids to discuss what to do next, with Bernie mentioning that Kong nor Godzilla can’t stop this on their own, and that soon Shimo and the Skkar King will escape their prison and unleash hell in both realms, but Ilene retorts that they won’t be alone, and that they’ll help each other. Bernie is confused as to why Godzilla would help Kong after he tried to kill him back in Hong Kong, but that’s when Jia and the Chen twins point toward the wall of glowing hieroglyphics detailing the ancient story about the Great Titan War. Ares killing several members of both the Godzilla and Kong species as well as capturing Shimo and working with her were only a few of the sacred taboos he had broken, crimes that provoked war between all life in the Hollow Earth. But something happened where the battle ceased, yet only for a moment as something appeared to bring everything together to defeat it, though they couldn’t seem to find out the translation for what it was.
- But they don’t need to find a translation for it, as it was a Titan the entire world had witnessed before, King Ghidorah. But they weren’t alone in the mural, as three other unknown Titans stood beside it; one resembling a Godzilla adorned with crystalline dorsal fins and wings, one similar to a hybridization of Godzilla, a rose, and a Venus flytrap, and the last being what could only be described as an amalgamation of crustacean, insectoid, and draconic traits into an enormous abomination. The Iwi Queen enters the pyramid and notices Monarch talking about the cave paintings, interjecting into the conversation that they represent the “Follies of Nature,” with Ghidorah having been defeated and frozen in Antarctica by Godzilla and a disturbed Shimo, all of that happening before the events of the Great Titan War. Bernie is confused about how Shimo could be the Mother of All Old Gods considering that many of the Titans vary from mammal, insect, reptilian, and even unknown entities like Ghidorah since they’re an extraterrestrial lifeform, but the Iwi clarify that Shimo is the First God because she was the first living being of that immense size to be seen by the first human civilization. Shimo wasn’t the first Titan in existence, but rather the first one to ever be gazed upon by human beings, cementing her as the First God and Mother of All Old Gods.
- That’s when the group gets a call from Monarch, where Mark Russell informs the others that G-Team, along with Trapper, had been experimenting with weapons designed to be built onto Titans to assist them in combat called Project Powerhouse, and they had just finished constructing a superweapon that’ll also heal Kong of his extensive injuries. Ling points into the distance where they see a fleet of HEAVs carrying a huge shipping container with the Monarch logo painted onto it along with the word “B.E.A.S.T” in bold black letters. Over their comms systems, Monarch all watch as Suko tries to protect Kong from the HEAVs, growling, and swatting at them, but quickly realizes that they mean to help Kong, eyeing them open the container to reveal a massive yellow gauntlet, a mechanical brace spanning the Titan’s elbow to his fingertips. Trapper calls the glove the “BEAST Glove,” a weapon conceived from the myths and legends of ancient civilizations building weapons to aid the Titans in combat where their abilities aren’t enough, and while Ilene is a bit upset at Trapper for trying to experiment with an innocent creature, one that she has taken care of for several years, Bernie mentions how Kong being healthy should be the only thing that matters, and that he needs help since The Skkar King and Shimo now have a way to escape.
- It isn’t long before Kong suddenly awakens, his eyes dilated, heartbeat pounding, and as the BEAST Glove injects a cocktail of adrenaline-based meds into his bloodstream, giving him a second wind while Suko cheers excitedly, and Monarch waits to see how Kong will be affected by the brace. Slowly rising to his feet, Trapper remarks that either Kong will absolutely love it, or that he’ll rip it off with his teeth, but to Monarch’s surprise, Kong seems to be noticing something else, spotting what looked like the remains of a Kong laying on an open vein of Hollow Earth energy. Kong slowly presses a finger against the flowing pool of energy, quickly roaring in pain as his eyes roll toward the back of his head, his mind flashing with an array of images; the other Great Apes, Jia, Godzilla, Skull Island, the Skkar King, Shimo… and the last thing he could remember of his family - their last moments on Earth.
- Lightning bursts from the crack in the soil, surging up Kong’s arm and throughout his body as the BEAST Glove imbued Kong with the ability to enhance a now unlocked bioelectrical organ in his chest, allowing him to harness the power of electricity like the Skkar King, but supercharge it with the BEAST Glove. Jia quickly signs to Kong that they’re going to need help in defeating Ares and Shimo, and Kong, knowing exactly who to find, makes his way toward the nearest portal to the surface to find Godzilla, telling Suko to stay behind, and watch over his family. Now harnessing the ancestral power of his kind to control electricity, Kong bellows out a mighty warcry, one that’s not only picked up by the Skkar King and Shimo but Godzilla as well, even while he’s evolving in the ice.
- Meanwhile, in his new den in Greenland, Godzilla awakens midway through his hyper-evolution, his body now leaner and muscular, his skin much spikier than before, dorsal plates curved backward and sporting a crystal-like texture, and a thagomizer made of spikes on his tail. At the same time, his radioactive outpost is nearly 20x as much as any other member of his species, and his normal blue energy has now shifted into a magenta-pink hue, spreading all over his body like veins. Hearing the bellowing roar of Kong deep in the Hollow Earth, Godzilla quickly dives into the sea to follow after him, tearing through any Monarch vessel in his path, his new evolved state causing his temperament to reach an almost unhinged degree of anger.
- At the same time, in the Skkar King’s den, he garbs himself in a shawl made of Godzilla’s leathery hide and a mask resembling the skull of Anguirus marred with the red war paint before hopping onto Shimo’s back like a horse, raising Kong’s axe. Ares then bellows out an almost long-forgotten language triumphantly before leading the army of Kongs out of the den, revealing that the Skkar King could actually speak, though spoke in a dead language from a bygone era. Using her frost blast, Shimo creates a massive crater, allowing her, Skarr King, and the other monsters to finally escape their prison into Hollow Earth, Skarr quickly orders Shimo to begin their invasion, to which she begins unleashing her frostbite blast in all directions, freezing everything in their way until they’re marching through an enormous blizzard. Suko watches on from the shadows, worried about their plans for the surface before going off to warn Monarch and Kong, not knowing that one of the Skkar King’s guards had been following him, finding the Iwi village, and returning to Ares to inform him of a way out - a way to the surface world...
2024.05.18 10:12 mystical_state Sp6 and sx5
As you can see, this post is long and goes into private details to ensure getting the full picture. Not expecting anyone to "get" my type for me, writing this post is mainly to help me articulate stuff and maybe get external insights.
Is fear of aggression and repression of anger due to guilt and fear of being overwhelmed by the other characteristic of/restricted to sp6?
Also, is it possible for an sp6 not to be very warm or have friends or "protective alliances"?
I've always thought I'm an sx5 due to relating more to the core fears of type 5, but I'm trying to make sure I'm not biased, especially in the light of realising my relationship with conflict and aggression.
Some of the things that unexpectedly make me consider those two different types is:
submitted by mystical_state to enneagram6 [link] [comments]
Is fear of aggression and repression of anger due to guilt and fear of being overwhelmed by the other characteristic of/restricted to sp6?
Also, is it possible for an sp6 not to be very warm or have friends or "protective alliances"?
I've always thought I'm an sx5 due to relating more to the core fears of type 5, but I'm trying to make sure I'm not biased, especially in the light of realising my relationship with conflict and aggression.
Some of the things that unexpectedly make me consider those two different types is:
- I tend to prioritise sx concerns even though most people wouldn't know since this part of me is private. Sx concerns as in, my primary concern being relationships, being attractive mentally etc, being focused on one major goal I feel passionate about, and I get very disturbed when this area of my life doesn't function well. More than sp. At the same time, this could also fall under the scope of the sp6's fear of separation/abandonment and clinging on to one person.
- Both types are fixated on trust and test close people. They have high ideals and find it very hard to trust someone.
- Fear of making bad decisions. I'm not sure whether this indicates sp6 or if it's just because I have a 1 fix, but I do feel paralysed sometimes due to not feeling certain that my move is morally right.
- Very private, yet fragile too. I'm very withdrawn and solitary, yet I can simultaneously have trouble with boundaries. I'm partly scared of contact with others because I fear I could get invaded or lose myself.
- I have an so6 mom, and I don't relate to obsessing over people's intentions or the ego focus on being reliable and trustworthy. My sense of self-respect comes first and foremost from striving to be wise, to be knowledgeable and perceptive. I'm not too convinced that I'm a compliant type due to not being adaptive to people's needs or giving of my energy, except in very close relationships. At the same time, I'm not proud to admit that I'm vulnerable to being guilty, or gaslit.
- In my childhood, I had issues split between 5 and 6. Feeling very much like an outcast, retreating into my mind, looking for one best friend but not finding it. Avoiding interactions and staying in my room a lot. I skipped a year in primary school and I was so scared when I didn't understand a new subject immediately. I was quite intellectually developed but emotionally - and especially physically - underdeveloped. In middle school, I was younger than everyone else, and I tended to be very anxious and keep trying to prepare for unknown situations mentally (so very 6-like). I looked for friends to feel "invisible" in the crowd since solitary people were picked on. Throughout middle school, I felt like I was trying to survive and not really being myself. In high school, I met a friend with whom I really clicked with, was myself with and shared secrets with. My attitude was very much like the "confidence" of sx5. My friendship with her helped me be myself more openly, tearing of the survival mask. I had identifiable cliché traits of an sx5: reclusive yet passionate, seeking intense relationships (friendships actually) then being disappointed when the person wasn't 100% on board with my feelings for them, jealousy/possessiveness, obsession with intellectual pursuits, obsession with fantasising about the perfect mate, developing my artistic inclinations.
- My biggest fear would be rape, including in the mental, psychological, and literal sense of it. Not sure what this indicates, but yeah. I sometimes get obsessed with dark ideas or movies that confront my fears. I feel disrupted yet fascinated by them.
- I tend to be very insecure about my abilities and attractiveness/being interesting enough. Also insecure in relationships, wondering what I mean to people (generally just one person though).
2024.05.18 10:12 Professional_Prune11 Escape From Heavalun Section One: Devil With Metal Skin
He hoi me noi my buds. It is your baker man Pirate here. With Human Trauma book two coming to a close in the next week, I wanted to shre with you all the next planned novel I am working on. This time around we will have a stuborn human mercanary, a lizard princess, and one goal---escape Heavalun Mass city. all thats in thier way is corrupt cops, gangsters, the general populace and thier willingness to tolarate one another.
Lets get this Bread.
-----
Shooting up from the blankets, Conor grabbed hold of the neck of whoever was jostling him awake, his cybernetic arm whirring while activating. Suddenly touching someone asleep was a stupid idea to do to anyone from Heavalun. Any sentient from this city was on edge most of the time and was usually particularly ornery when waking up.
He was especially prickly after years of contract killing and near-nonstop battles. While most people from Heavalun Mass City were used to fighting or having to keep an eye over their shoulder, watching for gangers, junkies, pickpockets, or the local police, his experience working and living here made him like a rubber band, ready to snap. Be that a neck, arm, leg, or whatever the poor sod he was fighting had.
“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Conor snarled, his natural and cybernetic eye narrowing and focusing in the wan light of his drab bedroom.
In an action built into him like an instinct, he willed his cybernetic eye to switch to see in infrared thermal sight, letting him get a good look at whoever this was while his natural eye adjusted to the lighting.
In bright orange, reds, and whites, Jurilra's face came into focus. She was a Jurintik, a werewolf like species; while he was human through and through. She had dull brown fur, long, dirty blonde hair, and a gaunt face and frame. The Jurintik was an alien species widespread throughout the galaxy, be it in the GU(galactic Union), Freespace, or here deep in the COS (concord of systems); you can’t swing a pipe without hitting at least two of them.
“Conor—let—-go,” Julitra gagged, clutching at Conor’s cybernetic forearm, her claws scratching roughly at the overlapping metal plates. “It’s me.”
Realizing who it was, Conor let her neck go, and she fell to the ground. He had only lifted her several centimeters off the floor, but doing that when half your torso, including your shoulders, one arm, and most of your organs were non-organic, or at least cybernetically enhanced, was a simple task, and he had done so out of sheer reflex.
“What were you thinking waking me up like that? You’re lucky I didn’t just dust you with my hand cannon,” Conor said, gesturing to the massive handgun sitting on the bedside table. “What in the stars are you doing here anyway?”
Taking a moment to rub at her neck and gag for a moment, Conor pieced together what likely happened. Considering that Julitra was naked, save for a thong, he must have hired her last night to blow off some steam—it wouldn’t be the first time he had done that when drunk.
“You didn’t pay me for last night,” Julitra said, standing up and nervously scratching her furry forearms and looking deeper into the shithole of an apartment toward the room where Conor stored all his weapons, money, and other precious items for barter or fencing purposes.
Conor sighed and scratched behind his still intact ear, the other having been halfway taken off by a frag grenade a few local years ago. After taking a moment to swing his legs out of bed, flexing his sore muscles, and rubbing his palms on his thighs, he looked up at her, having deactivated the thermal vision in his eye. “Fine; in the room top drawer on the right, you will find some bags of Murt and Syntrit. Take one of each.”
“Alright,” Julitra said, turning around and sashaying in that direction, clearly doing her best to move suavely and gracefully.
But Conor knew that was a load of Kret shit; She was little more than a strung-out junkie who just managed to keep herself on another fix fast enough by either guy like himself paying her for a quick lay or by managing not to get taken advantage of by one of the dealers on a street corner.
At least if she was selling herself for the night, she wasn’t going to end up in some slave market in the lower sections of the city or crammed into a skiff bound for a star on the far side of the galaxy. Julitra did have some kids to take care of, after all.
Not that it mattered to Conor if she went missing; there would be another skag he could bring in here. He just preferred her because she never tried to steal from him nor kill him in his sleep—finding another girl that he could trust would not be easy, especially in this shithole of a mass city. That well over a billion sentients were nestled in it did not matter; finding another piece of ass would be a pain.
“And only take one. I know how much product I have,” Conor grumbled, standing and heading toward the kitchenette. The dirty, blood-stained carpet was uncomfortable under bare feet.
God he hated going around with bare feet. It paid to have good boots to keep your feet safe from glass, nails, and other debris. That was especially important when operating in urban areas.
When he was out in the countryside or the house, he would forgo wearing them, and switch to sneekers, but being bare foot still sucked.
“I know,” Julitra replied from the room, “can I use your shower?”
“Whatever,” Conor replied flippantly, pulling down dried stulk leaves and tossing a pot of water on the stove.
So long as she didn't cause any issues with him getting started for the day, he honestly could not care less. All he needed to start the day was a pipping hot cup of stulk, and his stims. On that subject, the datapad built into his artificial arm chimed and reminded him of just that.
He frowned while retrieving the volatile cocktail of stimulants from the cupboard. He was almost out and only had enough for three days. Inside were six small autoinjectors about 20 centimeters long, marked with several warnings indicating that they should only be used in dire combat situations. But he was a particularly unique case and needed them just to survive.
After having a solid forty percent of his body replaced with cybernetics, from a metallic jaw, fake eye, a few replaced organs, torso, numerous enhanced joints, and even a few bits of wire running through his brain, the stims kept him working.
Without his friend Stich’s unique stimulant blend twice a day, Conor would start to fall apart. First would come the tremors, then body lockup, followed by seizures and eventually death. He had never made it that far in relapse; it was just easier to keep his organic parts cranked up to keep pace with his enhanced parts, and the video Stich showed him of sentients who relapsed was a good dissuasion.
Those poor sods were mangled wrecks, limbs at unnatural angles, blood, hydraulic fluid, and bone everywhere. And they were at most twenty percent wired up—what he could end up like was something he would rather not learn.
Dutifully and like clockwork, Conor ripped the cap off an auto-injector and shoved it into his thigh; a dull hiss sounded out as the brackish fluid flowed into his muscles. Just as he tossed the now empty injector into the trashcan, the sounds of Julitra starting the shower and humming flowed into the joint living and bedroom.
While Julitra was showering, Conor's friend and coworker Brakul sent him a message.
Brakul: Hey, conor, what are you doing tonight? I think I might have a contract for us to pick up.
Conor: No plans at this point. I just gotta get Julitra out of my safe house.
Brakul: Are you still fucking that scag? You know that won’t end well.
Conor: Yeah, gotta get my dick wet somehow. Besides, aren’t you still plowing that Kurilta we worked with a few months back—the one with the red hair?
Brakul: Yeah, I am. I like the crazy little woman. Plus, she is only a meter tall and makes me feel massive. But are you in or not?
Conor: Yeah, I'm in. When, where, and who is the client?
Brakul: Perfect, meet me at Zyntle’s around 2100. If all goes well, we got a contract for some new upstart to the north out of town. He is looking to hire some muscle for a few months. Don't worry about the contract's legitimacy; Norla sent this man my way to arrange half a dozen bodies. I just want you there in case something goes down.
Conor: So, bring a few extra solutions?
Brakul: if you would, and keep ‘em quiet, no shotguns. We will be in Zynie's place and need to keep things civil.
Conor: Afirm, see you then.
After switching off the arm-mounted datapad, Julitra stepped back into the room, redressed in her clothes from the previous night. They weren't anything fancy by any stretch of the imagination. Just a simple lowcut dress, showing off a shallow valley of furry cleavage, and cut to give ample view up her thighs and see the thong barely covering her womanhood.
For a hooker, it was good enough.
“Want to have some stulk?” Conor questioned, pouring himself a glass.
“Sure,” Julitra replied, going and lounging at the dingy table in the corner of the room.
They were quiet while eating their meager breakfast; neither had much in common or to talk about as is. The only things Julitra knew about Conor were: he killed people for money, sold stolen goods, and could give her a mean dick down. Whereas Conor knew damn near everything about her, acquired through basic profiling of her actions, attire, and mannerisms or from some of the intelligence brokers he dealt with regularly.
Some friends called him paranoid for keeping such tight tabs on anyone he dealt with; at least Brakul and Stich did. But Conor knew that knowledge was power and was needed if you wanted to always end up with your opponent dusted and not you. Conor knew better than anyone that you don’t survive like he has without a bit of paranoia. Hell, he was more persistent than a Hureclian beetle seeking water.
Once they had finished scarfing down crackers, canned meat, and the bitter, brackish brew, Julitra quickly took her leave, with Conor locking the door behind her. First, the deadbolts, then the chain, followed by a biometric scanner, and lastly, he kicked a metal wedge underneath the door—it would take a whole breaching team from the local government a solid hour to breach that reinforced metal monstrosity, and that was just how Conor liked it.
Unless you were invited into his home, it would behoove you to stay out and not try to get in.
Now that he was alone again, Conor trundled into the room Julitra had gotten her payment from and opened up one of the massive ceiling-high safes lining the walls. Inside was some of his equipment. This specific one contained most of his low-visibility equipment: body armor, weapons, knives, toolkits, and anything else he might need for more subtle operations.
In the other safes were other tools he might want, but those kits were built for more specific jobs: sniping, heavy assaults, aerial and maritime operations, along with anything else he could use in a warzone, but most of that was overkill for tonight.
So Conor pulled out a few items he thought could be useful and started his preparations in such meticulous detail that it would take him the rest of the day.
—-
The area outside of Zyntle’s nightclub was insanely crowded, even for Heavalun standards. Up and down the street, as far as the eye could see, were nightclubs, bars, and restaurants, catering to whatever vice once could possibly want.
Unlike some of the out portions of the city, areas in the inner and lower regions like here, you could not see the sky. Instead, if one looked up, they would be met with obnoxious neon signs and more buildings arching overhead, choking out any star or sunlight that might be visible.
Aiding in the choking and oppressive atmosphere, Aliens of all shapes and sizes bumped into one another with little grace, care, or concern. Most were decked out head to toe in bright neon colors that melded together in a caleidoscope of shifting brilliance.
At least that gave the usual drab greys, rust reds, and browns of the cityscape some color, even if Conor usually found it more annoying than not. Thankfully, neither Conor, Brakul, nor their strange contact could not hear the crowd outside from the second-floor window. Instead, they were being bombarded by something as if not more grating.
The happy tones and idle conversations of the crowd on the dancefloor below them, along with repetitive keyboards, synthetic snapping basslines, and ethereal vocals, filled the air to a near-deafening level. If not for the three of them having wired up to a local chatterbox that Conor brought along, they would not be able to hear one another.
The chatterbox was not fancy; it was just a tiny device Conor had whipped up. That lets them speak normally into microphones on their collars and be heard in earpieces. He had devised the idea for it after a few skiff airborne operations, where unless you were jacked into the aircraft comms, you could not talk without screaming.
Now, the chatterbox just doubled as the perfect tool for having conversations you would rather not have others around listen into. Hell, unless you were inches from them, you would not be able to hear them at all.
Brakul and whomever this Farun’se was, a two-meter tall feline-like alien, had been going over the finer details of the contract for the last half hour. Conor had been listening just enough to keep in the loop, but his focus was elsewhere. Namely in the crowds around them, watching for anything he did not want to see: other contractors, a gang war about to erupt, or anything else that caught his eye. People-watching was one of the things Conor enjoyed about setting up jobs; it gave him plenty of time to keep tabs on the ever-shifting city.
He had not spotted anything yet, in regular vision, Thermal, or through tracking, but something was off—he could feel it in his hackles. As such, One of Conor's hands was in his somewhat oversized brown leather jacket, wrapped tightly around the grip of his suppressed handgun. Neither Brakul nor the Client commented on him keeping watch; they both knew he was just filling the role of an enforcer and was backup for them.
“So, what do you think about the contract?” The Farun’se man questioned before taking a sip from his drink.
Whatever that glowing drink was, it was not ethanol-based; the smell was far too sweet. Conor could tell that much even through the skull-like mask covering his face. Not that the flat black ballistic bask he wore to cover his metallic jaw and mangled face covered scents much. It was built much like the other equipment he wore to enhance his senses, not diminish them.
“I think it is perfectly acceptable. But are you certain you only want a ten-man team to provide escort and transport for your client while within the city?” Brakul asked, flipping a palm up. “I am certain I can get more, considering your daily generous payment offer.”
Generous was one way to put it. The politician the Farun’se represented offered a whopping 15 thousand crit a day for well-experienced mercs. It was enough to get Conor's tail wagging; Most jobs barely pay that out, and this contract was supposed to be ten days long. You could almost buy a house outside the city for that kind of crit. If they were actually paid it out and not betrayed by their employer, at the end of the day, Conor likely would do just that; then, he would have a place to live without the threat of death around every corner.
Each of his jobs over the last few years was a means to that end—escaping this shithole. But getting out of the city was difficult, even for guys like him with opportunities to leave and a reasonably regular income.
“Well, we can work that out via messaging, but for now, I am just offering what I am allowed to,” The client said. “Anything more than that, and I won't be able to pay you half upfront.”
At least they are offering half the credits upfront. Conor must have missed that part during their long-winded discussion about what type of experience each mercenary needed, what weapons they would be allowed, and the specifics of the contract.
All they would have to do was finalize details of the team when Brakul had assembled another eight bodies, but they could do that in a few weeks.
“If that’s the case, then I think we should be good for now,” Brakul said, standing and extending a hand for the client.
“Perfect, expect to hear from me in a few days. Please have your team prepared by the end of the week,” The client replied, shaking Brakul’s hand.
After removing his earpiece and microphone, the client nodded to Conor and disappeared into the crowd looming around the stairs leading to the ground floor.
“So you like the sounds of that?” Brakul asked, sitting back down and sipping at his drink.
Keeping his sight on the crowd below, Conor tracked the client as he struggled to weave through the jostling dancers. The Feline was clearly out of his element in the crowds of the mass city. Based on how quickly he was recoiling from each touch by the intoxicated patrons, he was uncomfortable with all the physical contact forced onto him.
The sight was almost comedic, but Conor was used to dealing with people like the client's representative. If you had enough crit to hire ten mercs, you came from one of two walks of life: you were an influential underground leader who could afford the extra muscle, or you were a sheltered individual with no real business in Heavalun Mass City but decided you wanted to make some friends in low places and needed locals who would be loyal to the almighty crit.
But all of that was neither here nor there for the time being; Brakul would handle any issues with the contract. He was far better at being a politician than Conor was.
“So, any issues with what he wants?” Brakul smirked, knowing that it had been several months since Conor's last contract and that he needed the money.
Conor passively waved at his friend; he did not need to comment. Conor would take any contract that came his way so long as the pay was solid enough. In the past, he had taken contracts Brakul refused for moral reasons.
This contract of defending some high-born trader was in no way out of the ordinary and was relatively tame by Conor’s standards. His last contract was far more low-brow enough that he had almost said no. But for the low, low cost of 100 thousand crits and the fancy nanotech armor he was wearing under his tank top, he was more than willing to blow up the wing of a hospital with a firebomb—insurance paid to fix the building and burry anyone caught up when he killed a lowborn noble or some distant planet.
“I’m more interested in what's going on down below,” Conor said, pointing to a group gathering near the club's back entrance.
Below, barely visible through the flashing strobe lights and low haze of fog machines, seven Kyrail lingered at the back doors. One of the amphibian-like bipeds was giving instructions to the others. It was a shame the music was so loud; if not, Conor and Brakul could easily hear them, but even without sound, it was easy to see what they were doing. They were scouting a mark.
“What do you think, Voodals gang?” Conor posed, scanning the crowd for whomever the lead croaker was trying to target.
Voodal is a leader of one of the area's crime families and merc groups. They had been competitors of Conor and Brakul and their usual hiring groups for a long time. While Brakul and Conor did not have beef with them, one of their usual employers, the Farklut clan, had generations of bad blood.
That rivalry was nasty, to the point anyone who was a direct member of either family would dust the other on sight. Both had been caught up in that rivalry several times and had a negative opinion of the Voodal family and any of their ilk.
“Likely. This is part of a contested city, after all,” Brakul replied, sipping his drink.
“I wonder what they are doing here?” Conor said, still not having located whatever it was they were doing, but he had seen them pull out a particularly nasty drug, giving him an idea of precisely what they planned on doing—abduction.
The gaggle’s leader had passed out plastic bags with what looked like Visage clinging to the bags. That drug might as well be chloroform on the strongest combat stim out there. It would put you in a trance and make you forget the next several days until the effects wore off. The perfect drug for slave traffickers and abductors.
The only reason Conor could tell was that he had used the tactic several times to capture targets alive. It was great; you could fish information from them freely, and they wouldn't remember anything beyond where they had been picked up and whenever the drug wore off.
“I see their target,” Brakul muttered, “switch to IR. I will laze her for yah.”
As his friend and partner told him, Conor switched his false eye to IR and watched, and Brakul’s pistols laser pierced the crowd and danced on the back of a red scalled Kurlatra, dancing happily with some other repltilians of her species. All were woefully ignorant of the Kyrail weaving through the crowd toward them, hands tucked into jackets, likely clutching knives, pistols, and bags of drugs.
“Hmmm, odd, not a lot of Kurlatra on this side of the GU borders,” Conor commented.
“For sure,” Brakul agreed.
Kurlatra were a noble-esc species in the GU and tended to stay in the GU, as opposed ot the COS; most here only cared about their nobility for the sake of making money on ransom after all.
The GU was safe but was overbearing compared to the COS. It had far more laws, restrictions, and limitations on carving out a living. Conor’s chosen profession of being a Mercenary was outlawed in the GU unless you were on the Union congress's payroll, But he was not on that list, despite trying a few times.
“Wanna toss a wrench in their plans?” Brakul questioned.
“How so?” Conor replied, keeping a keen eye on the crimson scalled in the center.
Compared to those around her, she was different. Unlike the others who wore simple clothes, she wore a very revealing yellow dress that was low cut in the back and front, showing offer cleavage, but that's not what made her so different. It was all the glistening jewelry that made her smell of crit.
All those stones and precious metals were likely worth a few hundred thousand crits on their own. That was before you sold her pert ass to some slaver.
“We can go down, nab her after the entourage is dealt with, and be big damn heroes. Then we get an award from that payday of a ruby. If she is not feeling up to it, we could ransom her off to the Voodal; they want her for some reason,” Brakul explained, using his keen eye for diplomacy and deals to guide Conor’s mind to the potential payout.
Conor took a moment to take stock of the situation; he had enough ammo to carve through the Voodal family present and could carry such a Kurlatra if needed. Should this shit go sideways and end up in a firefight, they could just use the crowd and vanish.
“What about the contract we just took,” Conor posed
“We haven't taken one yet,” Brakul reminded, “that rep needs to get back to us with upfront payment. Until then, we are freelance.”
Conor could not deny he was right; no crit had changed hands yet, they were still unemployed, and this bitch might be worth some cash. Before Conor had a chance even to comment one way or the other, Brakul pressed on a nerve he knew would get Conor to act.
“Come on. I got fifty crit that says you can't extract that Kurlatra before the Voodal drug her,” the fellow Jurintik mocked.
The bastard knew how to get to Conor for sure. He was competitive and hated to have his abilities brought into question. Just out of professional pride, Conor could not let that lay.
“Two hundred,” Conor countered.
“One hundred,” Brakul retorted, “oh, look, they already nabbed one of the entourage.”
He was right. One of the Kurlatra heading toward the bathrooms near the back entrance just had a bag of Visage slammed into their mouth and had already gone glassy-eyed. Now, there were only five Kurlatra left, including the clear HVT(High-Value Target)
“One fifty,” Conor snapped, eager to have his friend stop messing with him.
“Deal, I will cover and feed you intel from her. Open channel one,” Brakul sneered.
Without missing a beat, Conor shot up from the table and descended the stairs into the crowd, drawing his suppressed pistol and activating his target tracker to keep sight of the HVT.
Conor did not know it yet, but that little bet, one that was not even worth as much ammo as he was about to expend, would send his life on a journey that would change him forever.
----- So what did you all think? was it a good time? a fun start at bare min? next chapter we will have connor dealing with the voodal, follwed by us meeting the little princess. It should be fun.
Please dont forget to updoot and comment. I will see you all in the comments.
Your Humble baker
-Pirate
-----
Next
submitted by Professional_Prune11 to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]
Lets get this Bread.
-----
Shooting up from the blankets, Conor grabbed hold of the neck of whoever was jostling him awake, his cybernetic arm whirring while activating. Suddenly touching someone asleep was a stupid idea to do to anyone from Heavalun. Any sentient from this city was on edge most of the time and was usually particularly ornery when waking up.
He was especially prickly after years of contract killing and near-nonstop battles. While most people from Heavalun Mass City were used to fighting or having to keep an eye over their shoulder, watching for gangers, junkies, pickpockets, or the local police, his experience working and living here made him like a rubber band, ready to snap. Be that a neck, arm, leg, or whatever the poor sod he was fighting had.
“Who the fuck do you think you are,” Conor snarled, his natural and cybernetic eye narrowing and focusing in the wan light of his drab bedroom.
In an action built into him like an instinct, he willed his cybernetic eye to switch to see in infrared thermal sight, letting him get a good look at whoever this was while his natural eye adjusted to the lighting.
In bright orange, reds, and whites, Jurilra's face came into focus. She was a Jurintik, a werewolf like species; while he was human through and through. She had dull brown fur, long, dirty blonde hair, and a gaunt face and frame. The Jurintik was an alien species widespread throughout the galaxy, be it in the GU(galactic Union), Freespace, or here deep in the COS (concord of systems); you can’t swing a pipe without hitting at least two of them.
“Conor—let—-go,” Julitra gagged, clutching at Conor’s cybernetic forearm, her claws scratching roughly at the overlapping metal plates. “It’s me.”
Realizing who it was, Conor let her neck go, and she fell to the ground. He had only lifted her several centimeters off the floor, but doing that when half your torso, including your shoulders, one arm, and most of your organs were non-organic, or at least cybernetically enhanced, was a simple task, and he had done so out of sheer reflex.
“What were you thinking waking me up like that? You’re lucky I didn’t just dust you with my hand cannon,” Conor said, gesturing to the massive handgun sitting on the bedside table. “What in the stars are you doing here anyway?”
Taking a moment to rub at her neck and gag for a moment, Conor pieced together what likely happened. Considering that Julitra was naked, save for a thong, he must have hired her last night to blow off some steam—it wouldn’t be the first time he had done that when drunk.
“You didn’t pay me for last night,” Julitra said, standing up and nervously scratching her furry forearms and looking deeper into the shithole of an apartment toward the room where Conor stored all his weapons, money, and other precious items for barter or fencing purposes.
Conor sighed and scratched behind his still intact ear, the other having been halfway taken off by a frag grenade a few local years ago. After taking a moment to swing his legs out of bed, flexing his sore muscles, and rubbing his palms on his thighs, he looked up at her, having deactivated the thermal vision in his eye. “Fine; in the room top drawer on the right, you will find some bags of Murt and Syntrit. Take one of each.”
“Alright,” Julitra said, turning around and sashaying in that direction, clearly doing her best to move suavely and gracefully.
But Conor knew that was a load of Kret shit; She was little more than a strung-out junkie who just managed to keep herself on another fix fast enough by either guy like himself paying her for a quick lay or by managing not to get taken advantage of by one of the dealers on a street corner.
At least if she was selling herself for the night, she wasn’t going to end up in some slave market in the lower sections of the city or crammed into a skiff bound for a star on the far side of the galaxy. Julitra did have some kids to take care of, after all.
Not that it mattered to Conor if she went missing; there would be another skag he could bring in here. He just preferred her because she never tried to steal from him nor kill him in his sleep—finding another girl that he could trust would not be easy, especially in this shithole of a mass city. That well over a billion sentients were nestled in it did not matter; finding another piece of ass would be a pain.
“And only take one. I know how much product I have,” Conor grumbled, standing and heading toward the kitchenette. The dirty, blood-stained carpet was uncomfortable under bare feet.
God he hated going around with bare feet. It paid to have good boots to keep your feet safe from glass, nails, and other debris. That was especially important when operating in urban areas.
When he was out in the countryside or the house, he would forgo wearing them, and switch to sneekers, but being bare foot still sucked.
“I know,” Julitra replied from the room, “can I use your shower?”
“Whatever,” Conor replied flippantly, pulling down dried stulk leaves and tossing a pot of water on the stove.
So long as she didn't cause any issues with him getting started for the day, he honestly could not care less. All he needed to start the day was a pipping hot cup of stulk, and his stims. On that subject, the datapad built into his artificial arm chimed and reminded him of just that.
He frowned while retrieving the volatile cocktail of stimulants from the cupboard. He was almost out and only had enough for three days. Inside were six small autoinjectors about 20 centimeters long, marked with several warnings indicating that they should only be used in dire combat situations. But he was a particularly unique case and needed them just to survive.
After having a solid forty percent of his body replaced with cybernetics, from a metallic jaw, fake eye, a few replaced organs, torso, numerous enhanced joints, and even a few bits of wire running through his brain, the stims kept him working.
Without his friend Stich’s unique stimulant blend twice a day, Conor would start to fall apart. First would come the tremors, then body lockup, followed by seizures and eventually death. He had never made it that far in relapse; it was just easier to keep his organic parts cranked up to keep pace with his enhanced parts, and the video Stich showed him of sentients who relapsed was a good dissuasion.
Those poor sods were mangled wrecks, limbs at unnatural angles, blood, hydraulic fluid, and bone everywhere. And they were at most twenty percent wired up—what he could end up like was something he would rather not learn.
Dutifully and like clockwork, Conor ripped the cap off an auto-injector and shoved it into his thigh; a dull hiss sounded out as the brackish fluid flowed into his muscles. Just as he tossed the now empty injector into the trashcan, the sounds of Julitra starting the shower and humming flowed into the joint living and bedroom.
While Julitra was showering, Conor's friend and coworker Brakul sent him a message.
Brakul: Hey, conor, what are you doing tonight? I think I might have a contract for us to pick up.
Conor: No plans at this point. I just gotta get Julitra out of my safe house.
Brakul: Are you still fucking that scag? You know that won’t end well.
Conor: Yeah, gotta get my dick wet somehow. Besides, aren’t you still plowing that Kurilta we worked with a few months back—the one with the red hair?
Brakul: Yeah, I am. I like the crazy little woman. Plus, she is only a meter tall and makes me feel massive. But are you in or not?
Conor: Yeah, I'm in. When, where, and who is the client?
Brakul: Perfect, meet me at Zyntle’s around 2100. If all goes well, we got a contract for some new upstart to the north out of town. He is looking to hire some muscle for a few months. Don't worry about the contract's legitimacy; Norla sent this man my way to arrange half a dozen bodies. I just want you there in case something goes down.
Conor: So, bring a few extra solutions?
Brakul: if you would, and keep ‘em quiet, no shotguns. We will be in Zynie's place and need to keep things civil.
Conor: Afirm, see you then.
After switching off the arm-mounted datapad, Julitra stepped back into the room, redressed in her clothes from the previous night. They weren't anything fancy by any stretch of the imagination. Just a simple lowcut dress, showing off a shallow valley of furry cleavage, and cut to give ample view up her thighs and see the thong barely covering her womanhood.
For a hooker, it was good enough.
“Want to have some stulk?” Conor questioned, pouring himself a glass.
“Sure,” Julitra replied, going and lounging at the dingy table in the corner of the room.
They were quiet while eating their meager breakfast; neither had much in common or to talk about as is. The only things Julitra knew about Conor were: he killed people for money, sold stolen goods, and could give her a mean dick down. Whereas Conor knew damn near everything about her, acquired through basic profiling of her actions, attire, and mannerisms or from some of the intelligence brokers he dealt with regularly.
Some friends called him paranoid for keeping such tight tabs on anyone he dealt with; at least Brakul and Stich did. But Conor knew that knowledge was power and was needed if you wanted to always end up with your opponent dusted and not you. Conor knew better than anyone that you don’t survive like he has without a bit of paranoia. Hell, he was more persistent than a Hureclian beetle seeking water.
Once they had finished scarfing down crackers, canned meat, and the bitter, brackish brew, Julitra quickly took her leave, with Conor locking the door behind her. First, the deadbolts, then the chain, followed by a biometric scanner, and lastly, he kicked a metal wedge underneath the door—it would take a whole breaching team from the local government a solid hour to breach that reinforced metal monstrosity, and that was just how Conor liked it.
Unless you were invited into his home, it would behoove you to stay out and not try to get in.
Now that he was alone again, Conor trundled into the room Julitra had gotten her payment from and opened up one of the massive ceiling-high safes lining the walls. Inside was some of his equipment. This specific one contained most of his low-visibility equipment: body armor, weapons, knives, toolkits, and anything else he might need for more subtle operations.
In the other safes were other tools he might want, but those kits were built for more specific jobs: sniping, heavy assaults, aerial and maritime operations, along with anything else he could use in a warzone, but most of that was overkill for tonight.
So Conor pulled out a few items he thought could be useful and started his preparations in such meticulous detail that it would take him the rest of the day.
—-
The area outside of Zyntle’s nightclub was insanely crowded, even for Heavalun standards. Up and down the street, as far as the eye could see, were nightclubs, bars, and restaurants, catering to whatever vice once could possibly want.
Unlike some of the out portions of the city, areas in the inner and lower regions like here, you could not see the sky. Instead, if one looked up, they would be met with obnoxious neon signs and more buildings arching overhead, choking out any star or sunlight that might be visible.
Aiding in the choking and oppressive atmosphere, Aliens of all shapes and sizes bumped into one another with little grace, care, or concern. Most were decked out head to toe in bright neon colors that melded together in a caleidoscope of shifting brilliance.
At least that gave the usual drab greys, rust reds, and browns of the cityscape some color, even if Conor usually found it more annoying than not. Thankfully, neither Conor, Brakul, nor their strange contact could not hear the crowd outside from the second-floor window. Instead, they were being bombarded by something as if not more grating.
The happy tones and idle conversations of the crowd on the dancefloor below them, along with repetitive keyboards, synthetic snapping basslines, and ethereal vocals, filled the air to a near-deafening level. If not for the three of them having wired up to a local chatterbox that Conor brought along, they would not be able to hear one another.
The chatterbox was not fancy; it was just a tiny device Conor had whipped up. That lets them speak normally into microphones on their collars and be heard in earpieces. He had devised the idea for it after a few skiff airborne operations, where unless you were jacked into the aircraft comms, you could not talk without screaming.
Now, the chatterbox just doubled as the perfect tool for having conversations you would rather not have others around listen into. Hell, unless you were inches from them, you would not be able to hear them at all.
Brakul and whomever this Farun’se was, a two-meter tall feline-like alien, had been going over the finer details of the contract for the last half hour. Conor had been listening just enough to keep in the loop, but his focus was elsewhere. Namely in the crowds around them, watching for anything he did not want to see: other contractors, a gang war about to erupt, or anything else that caught his eye. People-watching was one of the things Conor enjoyed about setting up jobs; it gave him plenty of time to keep tabs on the ever-shifting city.
He had not spotted anything yet, in regular vision, Thermal, or through tracking, but something was off—he could feel it in his hackles. As such, One of Conor's hands was in his somewhat oversized brown leather jacket, wrapped tightly around the grip of his suppressed handgun. Neither Brakul nor the Client commented on him keeping watch; they both knew he was just filling the role of an enforcer and was backup for them.
“So, what do you think about the contract?” The Farun’se man questioned before taking a sip from his drink.
Whatever that glowing drink was, it was not ethanol-based; the smell was far too sweet. Conor could tell that much even through the skull-like mask covering his face. Not that the flat black ballistic bask he wore to cover his metallic jaw and mangled face covered scents much. It was built much like the other equipment he wore to enhance his senses, not diminish them.
“I think it is perfectly acceptable. But are you certain you only want a ten-man team to provide escort and transport for your client while within the city?” Brakul asked, flipping a palm up. “I am certain I can get more, considering your daily generous payment offer.”
Generous was one way to put it. The politician the Farun’se represented offered a whopping 15 thousand crit a day for well-experienced mercs. It was enough to get Conor's tail wagging; Most jobs barely pay that out, and this contract was supposed to be ten days long. You could almost buy a house outside the city for that kind of crit. If they were actually paid it out and not betrayed by their employer, at the end of the day, Conor likely would do just that; then, he would have a place to live without the threat of death around every corner.
Each of his jobs over the last few years was a means to that end—escaping this shithole. But getting out of the city was difficult, even for guys like him with opportunities to leave and a reasonably regular income.
“Well, we can work that out via messaging, but for now, I am just offering what I am allowed to,” The client said. “Anything more than that, and I won't be able to pay you half upfront.”
At least they are offering half the credits upfront. Conor must have missed that part during their long-winded discussion about what type of experience each mercenary needed, what weapons they would be allowed, and the specifics of the contract.
All they would have to do was finalize details of the team when Brakul had assembled another eight bodies, but they could do that in a few weeks.
“If that’s the case, then I think we should be good for now,” Brakul said, standing and extending a hand for the client.
“Perfect, expect to hear from me in a few days. Please have your team prepared by the end of the week,” The client replied, shaking Brakul’s hand.
After removing his earpiece and microphone, the client nodded to Conor and disappeared into the crowd looming around the stairs leading to the ground floor.
“So you like the sounds of that?” Brakul asked, sitting back down and sipping at his drink.
Keeping his sight on the crowd below, Conor tracked the client as he struggled to weave through the jostling dancers. The Feline was clearly out of his element in the crowds of the mass city. Based on how quickly he was recoiling from each touch by the intoxicated patrons, he was uncomfortable with all the physical contact forced onto him.
The sight was almost comedic, but Conor was used to dealing with people like the client's representative. If you had enough crit to hire ten mercs, you came from one of two walks of life: you were an influential underground leader who could afford the extra muscle, or you were a sheltered individual with no real business in Heavalun Mass City but decided you wanted to make some friends in low places and needed locals who would be loyal to the almighty crit.
But all of that was neither here nor there for the time being; Brakul would handle any issues with the contract. He was far better at being a politician than Conor was.
“So, any issues with what he wants?” Brakul smirked, knowing that it had been several months since Conor's last contract and that he needed the money.
Conor passively waved at his friend; he did not need to comment. Conor would take any contract that came his way so long as the pay was solid enough. In the past, he had taken contracts Brakul refused for moral reasons.
This contract of defending some high-born trader was in no way out of the ordinary and was relatively tame by Conor’s standards. His last contract was far more low-brow enough that he had almost said no. But for the low, low cost of 100 thousand crits and the fancy nanotech armor he was wearing under his tank top, he was more than willing to blow up the wing of a hospital with a firebomb—insurance paid to fix the building and burry anyone caught up when he killed a lowborn noble or some distant planet.
“I’m more interested in what's going on down below,” Conor said, pointing to a group gathering near the club's back entrance.
Below, barely visible through the flashing strobe lights and low haze of fog machines, seven Kyrail lingered at the back doors. One of the amphibian-like bipeds was giving instructions to the others. It was a shame the music was so loud; if not, Conor and Brakul could easily hear them, but even without sound, it was easy to see what they were doing. They were scouting a mark.
“What do you think, Voodals gang?” Conor posed, scanning the crowd for whomever the lead croaker was trying to target.
Voodal is a leader of one of the area's crime families and merc groups. They had been competitors of Conor and Brakul and their usual hiring groups for a long time. While Brakul and Conor did not have beef with them, one of their usual employers, the Farklut clan, had generations of bad blood.
That rivalry was nasty, to the point anyone who was a direct member of either family would dust the other on sight. Both had been caught up in that rivalry several times and had a negative opinion of the Voodal family and any of their ilk.
“Likely. This is part of a contested city, after all,” Brakul replied, sipping his drink.
“I wonder what they are doing here?” Conor said, still not having located whatever it was they were doing, but he had seen them pull out a particularly nasty drug, giving him an idea of precisely what they planned on doing—abduction.
The gaggle’s leader had passed out plastic bags with what looked like Visage clinging to the bags. That drug might as well be chloroform on the strongest combat stim out there. It would put you in a trance and make you forget the next several days until the effects wore off. The perfect drug for slave traffickers and abductors.
The only reason Conor could tell was that he had used the tactic several times to capture targets alive. It was great; you could fish information from them freely, and they wouldn't remember anything beyond where they had been picked up and whenever the drug wore off.
“I see their target,” Brakul muttered, “switch to IR. I will laze her for yah.”
As his friend and partner told him, Conor switched his false eye to IR and watched, and Brakul’s pistols laser pierced the crowd and danced on the back of a red scalled Kurlatra, dancing happily with some other repltilians of her species. All were woefully ignorant of the Kyrail weaving through the crowd toward them, hands tucked into jackets, likely clutching knives, pistols, and bags of drugs.
“Hmmm, odd, not a lot of Kurlatra on this side of the GU borders,” Conor commented.
“For sure,” Brakul agreed.
Kurlatra were a noble-esc species in the GU and tended to stay in the GU, as opposed ot the COS; most here only cared about their nobility for the sake of making money on ransom after all.
The GU was safe but was overbearing compared to the COS. It had far more laws, restrictions, and limitations on carving out a living. Conor’s chosen profession of being a Mercenary was outlawed in the GU unless you were on the Union congress's payroll, But he was not on that list, despite trying a few times.
“Wanna toss a wrench in their plans?” Brakul questioned.
“How so?” Conor replied, keeping a keen eye on the crimson scalled in the center.
Compared to those around her, she was different. Unlike the others who wore simple clothes, she wore a very revealing yellow dress that was low cut in the back and front, showing offer cleavage, but that's not what made her so different. It was all the glistening jewelry that made her smell of crit.
All those stones and precious metals were likely worth a few hundred thousand crits on their own. That was before you sold her pert ass to some slaver.
“We can go down, nab her after the entourage is dealt with, and be big damn heroes. Then we get an award from that payday of a ruby. If she is not feeling up to it, we could ransom her off to the Voodal; they want her for some reason,” Brakul explained, using his keen eye for diplomacy and deals to guide Conor’s mind to the potential payout.
Conor took a moment to take stock of the situation; he had enough ammo to carve through the Voodal family present and could carry such a Kurlatra if needed. Should this shit go sideways and end up in a firefight, they could just use the crowd and vanish.
“What about the contract we just took,” Conor posed
“We haven't taken one yet,” Brakul reminded, “that rep needs to get back to us with upfront payment. Until then, we are freelance.”
Conor could not deny he was right; no crit had changed hands yet, they were still unemployed, and this bitch might be worth some cash. Before Conor had a chance even to comment one way or the other, Brakul pressed on a nerve he knew would get Conor to act.
“Come on. I got fifty crit that says you can't extract that Kurlatra before the Voodal drug her,” the fellow Jurintik mocked.
The bastard knew how to get to Conor for sure. He was competitive and hated to have his abilities brought into question. Just out of professional pride, Conor could not let that lay.
“Two hundred,” Conor countered.
“One hundred,” Brakul retorted, “oh, look, they already nabbed one of the entourage.”
He was right. One of the Kurlatra heading toward the bathrooms near the back entrance just had a bag of Visage slammed into their mouth and had already gone glassy-eyed. Now, there were only five Kurlatra left, including the clear HVT(High-Value Target)
“One fifty,” Conor snapped, eager to have his friend stop messing with him.
“Deal, I will cover and feed you intel from her. Open channel one,” Brakul sneered.
Without missing a beat, Conor shot up from the table and descended the stairs into the crowd, drawing his suppressed pistol and activating his target tracker to keep sight of the HVT.
Conor did not know it yet, but that little bet, one that was not even worth as much ammo as he was about to expend, would send his life on a journey that would change him forever.
----- So what did you all think? was it a good time? a fun start at bare min? next chapter we will have connor dealing with the voodal, follwed by us meeting the little princess. It should be fun.
Please dont forget to updoot and comment. I will see you all in the comments.
Your Humble baker
-Pirate
-----
Next
2024.05.18 09:48 Suspicious-Elk-5246 I (16m) am trans and I can't take it anymore.
Hello, this is a throwaway account cause I don't use reddit. I just really need anywhere to vent about this (which is I guess implied cause I'm turning to reddit) but if youre a transphobe who was hoping this was gonna be all "guyyyys being transs sucks" thats not what this is.
I'm an amab (assigned male at birth) person and holy shit I cant take this shit anymore I wasnt meant to be like this. Every single day is just immense emotional torture. Ive been identifying as genderfluid+any pronouns for like a year and a half at this point but if I'm being honest with myself that is the biggest cope ever like I'm just a girl thats it and I dont want it to be. I want to not be trans, I want to feel any amount of comfortable around other guys my age, but I am and the worst part is I cant do shit about it.
The middle of highschool is probably the worst possible time to transition ever, my mom isnt overtly transphobic but shes the "if they dont interact with me and they look exactly like cis people and they are trans without any of the parts of being trans" type, and the political climate right now isnt great for trans people even in the liberal ass states. I really don't want to be a political distraction to rile up dumbasses so they don't realize whatever good ol joeseph biden wants to have hidden.
But at the same time I think I'll die if I dont. I cant stand the thought of going through another day of my life in this body. When I picture myself in highschool I imagine a high school girl, and I have to face the fact that I'm in highschool and I just look like a gay guy with long hair. My body is a fucking prison. I have a perfectly functional mouth and yet I still can't scream because invisible guy laws have dictated I cant. Even when I try to cry like on purpouse when I see something sad I cant get anything to happen it just wells up and goes back down the bottle is sealing itself.
When I look at myself in the mirror and see my dick its just this bitter visceral anger at my body for being made this way when I could have been better. My broad shoulders and sharp(ish) jawline that other guys would love to have are just a curse to me.
Sometimes I see myself in the mirror and for a second I look like a girl and I feel such overwhelming happyness and I smile a real genuine smile of joy. Not a smile because something funny happened or because its a picture and I should probably smile or I look like some #empty #depression fake emo dork. But a smile because I am happy and because I feel good. Then it gets stripped away. The lighting changes or my hair moves or most of the time I just end up looking too long and realizing my imperfections that make me look more and more masculine.
Sometimes at school people misgender me. There are some groups that I stay way out of so I'm unknown in them and with my long hair and a hoodie and a beanie to hide my eyebrows ive been mistaken for a girl a few times. I never know what to do when it happens, I just go silent and freeze up like a deer in headlights. When someone says "I thought you were a girl haha" or "are you a girl" or just talks to me perceiving me as a girl I want so badly to scream that yes i am a girl and thank you for saying it and I'm so thankful for you but Id look insane (prolly cause I would be insane if I did that lmao)
Once when I was waiting for the locker rooms to open in PE (I usually go early because they open early and I would rather die than be in a boys locker room that actively has boys in it) these two guys I vaugely recognized started hitting on me and I just didn't know what to say and just looked at them. One of them eventually thought something was up and asked if I was a girl (which btw is a stupid question why the fuck would I be a girl waiting at the boys locker room) and the two started arguing on whether I was a girl or not. One of them bent over to try and see if I had a dick which was the most uncomfortable thing like ever.
Eventually dumb and dumber both come to sparate conclusions that I am either a tomboy or a femboy. The guy that was hitting on me makes an advance on me under the assumption that I'm either which looking back is highkey kinda funny. Something like "ay you know I like those tomboys, and I know what them femboys like too". I didnt say anything and so drake and josh eventually walked away. And even though I was uncomfortable and hated the whole experience I was beaming for the rest of the day. Because even if I was unconfortable and hated the whole experience at least I was percieved how I truly wish to be seen.
[This last paragraph has some real bad stuff in it you may not wanna read] I want to just be a girl so bad I would do anything (other than I guess actually transition) I would kill someone. I would kill myself, I wont because it would be so lame if I just fucked around didnt graduate and then died but god is the urdge there. Sometimes I want to grab a knife and stab the area where a vagina should be and I guess just bleed out Ive never gotten to the part of wanting to do it where I imagine what would happen.
Anyways I could go on but its like 12:40 AM rn and I feel like ive probably written enough by now but belive me I could go on and on. I kinda doubt anyone read this whole thing but then again its reddit so maybe. If you did then thanks for reading my rambly warping thoughts _^
submitted by Suspicious-Elk-5246 to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
I'm an amab (assigned male at birth) person and holy shit I cant take this shit anymore I wasnt meant to be like this. Every single day is just immense emotional torture. Ive been identifying as genderfluid+any pronouns for like a year and a half at this point but if I'm being honest with myself that is the biggest cope ever like I'm just a girl thats it and I dont want it to be. I want to not be trans, I want to feel any amount of comfortable around other guys my age, but I am and the worst part is I cant do shit about it.
The middle of highschool is probably the worst possible time to transition ever, my mom isnt overtly transphobic but shes the "if they dont interact with me and they look exactly like cis people and they are trans without any of the parts of being trans" type, and the political climate right now isnt great for trans people even in the liberal ass states. I really don't want to be a political distraction to rile up dumbasses so they don't realize whatever good ol joeseph biden wants to have hidden.
But at the same time I think I'll die if I dont. I cant stand the thought of going through another day of my life in this body. When I picture myself in highschool I imagine a high school girl, and I have to face the fact that I'm in highschool and I just look like a gay guy with long hair. My body is a fucking prison. I have a perfectly functional mouth and yet I still can't scream because invisible guy laws have dictated I cant. Even when I try to cry like on purpouse when I see something sad I cant get anything to happen it just wells up and goes back down the bottle is sealing itself.
When I look at myself in the mirror and see my dick its just this bitter visceral anger at my body for being made this way when I could have been better. My broad shoulders and sharp(ish) jawline that other guys would love to have are just a curse to me.
Sometimes I see myself in the mirror and for a second I look like a girl and I feel such overwhelming happyness and I smile a real genuine smile of joy. Not a smile because something funny happened or because its a picture and I should probably smile or I look like some #empty #depression fake emo dork. But a smile because I am happy and because I feel good. Then it gets stripped away. The lighting changes or my hair moves or most of the time I just end up looking too long and realizing my imperfections that make me look more and more masculine.
Sometimes at school people misgender me. There are some groups that I stay way out of so I'm unknown in them and with my long hair and a hoodie and a beanie to hide my eyebrows ive been mistaken for a girl a few times. I never know what to do when it happens, I just go silent and freeze up like a deer in headlights. When someone says "I thought you were a girl haha" or "are you a girl" or just talks to me perceiving me as a girl I want so badly to scream that yes i am a girl and thank you for saying it and I'm so thankful for you but Id look insane (prolly cause I would be insane if I did that lmao)
Once when I was waiting for the locker rooms to open in PE (I usually go early because they open early and I would rather die than be in a boys locker room that actively has boys in it) these two guys I vaugely recognized started hitting on me and I just didn't know what to say and just looked at them. One of them eventually thought something was up and asked if I was a girl (which btw is a stupid question why the fuck would I be a girl waiting at the boys locker room) and the two started arguing on whether I was a girl or not. One of them bent over to try and see if I had a dick which was the most uncomfortable thing like ever.
Eventually dumb and dumber both come to sparate conclusions that I am either a tomboy or a femboy. The guy that was hitting on me makes an advance on me under the assumption that I'm either which looking back is highkey kinda funny. Something like "ay you know I like those tomboys, and I know what them femboys like too". I didnt say anything and so drake and josh eventually walked away. And even though I was uncomfortable and hated the whole experience I was beaming for the rest of the day. Because even if I was unconfortable and hated the whole experience at least I was percieved how I truly wish to be seen.
[This last paragraph has some real bad stuff in it you may not wanna read] I want to just be a girl so bad I would do anything (other than I guess actually transition) I would kill someone. I would kill myself, I wont because it would be so lame if I just fucked around didnt graduate and then died but god is the urdge there. Sometimes I want to grab a knife and stab the area where a vagina should be and I guess just bleed out Ive never gotten to the part of wanting to do it where I imagine what would happen.
Anyways I could go on but its like 12:40 AM rn and I feel like ive probably written enough by now but belive me I could go on and on. I kinda doubt anyone read this whole thing but then again its reddit so maybe. If you did then thanks for reading my rambly warping thoughts _^
2024.05.18 08:50 44faced Maria Rago's "Images_" featuring Laura Gómez is a compelling piece of classical contemporary music, characterized by its melancholic mood and intense emotional depth
Maria Rago - Images_ with Laura Gómez, soprano
Maria Rago's "Images_" featuring Laura Gómez is a compelling piece of classical contemporary music, characterized by its melancholic mood and intense emotional depth. The Italian pianist and composer, now residing in Illinois, USA, skillfully weaves her rich cultural influences and profound emotional experiences into every note. Rago's evocative compositions have earned her international acclaim, including numerous awards and performances at prestigious festivals and theaters worldwide.
About the Composer, Maria Rago: A curious and compassionate listener is what best describes Italian pianist and composer Maria Rago. Born in Sicily, though now residing in Illinois, USA, she has used her new environment to build her music career. Despite her late coming to the music world, she has utilized how to express her emotions through her music, which has led to her works being performed worldwide. She began playing the piano at the age of 24 and studied with Lea Cumbo at the Istituto Superiore di Studi Musicali V. Bellini di Caltanissetta (Italy), where she graduated and continued with her studies with Eliodoro Sollima. She studied her composition at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et Danse in Lyon, France with Philippe Schoeller. Her love for arts is limited to music composing and photography, travel, black and white movies. Alongside her studies, she rapaciously soaked up influences from across the arts: not just musically from J.S. Bach, Igor Stravinsky, Arvö Part and Frank Zappa, but paintings of Caravaggio and Picasso and the literary works of Dostoyevsky, Strindberg and Beckett.
She continues to write and perform music that seeks to challenge, soothe, and stimulate her audience's senses, which has granted her the opportunity to perform in festivals and theaters throughout Europe and the USA. Her works have earned various nominations and won numerous awards, including the Global Music Awards Honors (bronze medal) Recently she won, with the American-Brazilian director Rafael Fernanz, the award for Best video “Voice surrounding the city” and Best music at Christian Film Festival 2018 (Newport News USA) and the award for Best Music at The American Tracks Music Award International Contest 2018 (Los Angeles, USA). Additionally, she won Best Music at Aphrodite Film Festival (New York, USA) and the Best Music Award at Lady Filmmakers Festival (Beverly Hills, USA) 2nd place at Paris Play International Film Festival (Paris,France). Award for Best Music at X World Short Film Festival (Las Vegas, USA) and Anabelle Munro’s Most Important Films ( Las Vegas, USA). Honorable Mention, Tokyo International Film Festival. 2nd place at The Artists Forum International Music Competition (New York, USA).
Stream Maria Rago - "Images_" with Laura Gómez, soprano on SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/GqAHc
Follow Maria Rago:
submitted by 44faced to shareyourmusic [link] [comments]
Maria Rago's "Images_" featuring Laura Gómez is a compelling piece of classical contemporary music, characterized by its melancholic mood and intense emotional depth. The Italian pianist and composer, now residing in Illinois, USA, skillfully weaves her rich cultural influences and profound emotional experiences into every note. Rago's evocative compositions have earned her international acclaim, including numerous awards and performances at prestigious festivals and theaters worldwide.
About the Composer, Maria Rago: A curious and compassionate listener is what best describes Italian pianist and composer Maria Rago. Born in Sicily, though now residing in Illinois, USA, she has used her new environment to build her music career. Despite her late coming to the music world, she has utilized how to express her emotions through her music, which has led to her works being performed worldwide. She began playing the piano at the age of 24 and studied with Lea Cumbo at the Istituto Superiore di Studi Musicali V. Bellini di Caltanissetta (Italy), where she graduated and continued with her studies with Eliodoro Sollima. She studied her composition at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et Danse in Lyon, France with Philippe Schoeller. Her love for arts is limited to music composing and photography, travel, black and white movies. Alongside her studies, she rapaciously soaked up influences from across the arts: not just musically from J.S. Bach, Igor Stravinsky, Arvö Part and Frank Zappa, but paintings of Caravaggio and Picasso and the literary works of Dostoyevsky, Strindberg and Beckett.
She continues to write and perform music that seeks to challenge, soothe, and stimulate her audience's senses, which has granted her the opportunity to perform in festivals and theaters throughout Europe and the USA. Her works have earned various nominations and won numerous awards, including the Global Music Awards Honors (bronze medal) Recently she won, with the American-Brazilian director Rafael Fernanz, the award for Best video “Voice surrounding the city” and Best music at Christian Film Festival 2018 (Newport News USA) and the award for Best Music at The American Tracks Music Award International Contest 2018 (Los Angeles, USA). Additionally, she won Best Music at Aphrodite Film Festival (New York, USA) and the Best Music Award at Lady Filmmakers Festival (Beverly Hills, USA) 2nd place at Paris Play International Film Festival (Paris,France). Award for Best Music at X World Short Film Festival (Las Vegas, USA) and Anabelle Munro’s Most Important Films ( Las Vegas, USA). Honorable Mention, Tokyo International Film Festival. 2nd place at The Artists Forum International Music Competition (New York, USA).
Stream Maria Rago - "Images_" with Laura Gómez, soprano on SoundCloud: https://on.soundcloud.com/GqAHc
Follow Maria Rago:
- Facebook: facebook.com/mariaragomusic3
- Instagram: @mariaragomusic
- Web: mariaragomusic.com
2024.05.18 06:29 Odd_Negotiation_2422 Advice needed from moms of Reddit…
Throwaway account because she is occasionally on Reddit and the last thing I want is for her to stumble upon this post and feel attacked.
Apologies in advance for the novel. Brevity isn’t exactly my strong suit.
My (27M) wife (24F) gave birth about 17 months ago. We have been together for 4 years. During the pregnancy, we weren’t intimate at all. I was completely understanding of that and also understanding of her not really being affectionate at all during that time.
After our baby was born, she began taking birth control for the first time in her life, and coupled with just having given birth, it really affected her hormones to the point that I didn’t even recognize her personality or behavior. She eventually recognized on her own that it was changing her into someone that she didn’t recognize and stopped taking the pills. After about a month, she seemed to be back to normal. There’s a lot more to this part of the story, but I’ll leave it at that. This isn’t an anti-bc message at all, it’s just that the one that she was taking wasn’t great. She isn’t currently on bc because she is afraid how she will “react” to it, and even though I’m in agreement, it’s totally her decision to make.
Since the baby was born, I’ve done everything that I can possibly do to make her feel comfortable and not overextended. I cook all of the meals, do 90% of the cleaning, all laundry, most diaper changes, and so on. I give her massages almost daily. We both work a lot, but she typically works about 50 hours/week, I work 40, so when she comes home I like for her to be able to relax. I’ll add that she is a great mother to our baby and spends time playing and reading to him. And then she goes on TikTok or Facebook for hours until she falls asleep. Finances are good, we both make roughly the same amount of money and have good jobs. I take her out regularly.
The only issue that I have is that there’s almost no affection from her whatsoever. I’m not talking about sex, because that unfortunately doesn’t happen either. Other than when she was on bc, She has no sex drive whatsoever since becoming pregnant (which is a drastic change from before). We have had sex a few times, but it still causes her pain, and I don’t even want to do it if it can’t be mutually enjoyed. She says I love you and says all of the right things, but there’s no physical connection. If I don’t touch her, she notices and gets borderline upset, but she never ever reciprocates. It’s been over two years, counting the pregnancy and postpartum and it’s starting to really bother me. I feel like I do a lot, and it’s because I’m in love with her, not because I want a reward, but I’m starting to feel really invisible. I’ve brought up my feelings at certain times in the past, she understands how I feel, I just don’t think she cares at the moment.
I’m as sure as anyone can possibly be that she isn’t cheating. I’m not leaving her or anything. We still have a connection, but it’s only physical from my side and my frustration is building to chest pain levels. I’m afraid that this has become our new normal forever and it’s difficult to take.
So my question, is this at all normal? If so, what can I do to change my focus and help her? I’ve (as delicately as possible) mentioned that she should see a doctor about the pain and discomfort during sex, as well as just a general checkup. But she isn’t interested in that and says that it’s just normal after pregnancy. The sex and the overall blasé.
TL:DR- wife is non-affectionate for the last 2 years (pregnancy and postpartum)
submitted by Odd_Negotiation_2422 to Advice [link] [comments]
Apologies in advance for the novel. Brevity isn’t exactly my strong suit.
My (27M) wife (24F) gave birth about 17 months ago. We have been together for 4 years. During the pregnancy, we weren’t intimate at all. I was completely understanding of that and also understanding of her not really being affectionate at all during that time.
After our baby was born, she began taking birth control for the first time in her life, and coupled with just having given birth, it really affected her hormones to the point that I didn’t even recognize her personality or behavior. She eventually recognized on her own that it was changing her into someone that she didn’t recognize and stopped taking the pills. After about a month, she seemed to be back to normal. There’s a lot more to this part of the story, but I’ll leave it at that. This isn’t an anti-bc message at all, it’s just that the one that she was taking wasn’t great. She isn’t currently on bc because she is afraid how she will “react” to it, and even though I’m in agreement, it’s totally her decision to make.
Since the baby was born, I’ve done everything that I can possibly do to make her feel comfortable and not overextended. I cook all of the meals, do 90% of the cleaning, all laundry, most diaper changes, and so on. I give her massages almost daily. We both work a lot, but she typically works about 50 hours/week, I work 40, so when she comes home I like for her to be able to relax. I’ll add that she is a great mother to our baby and spends time playing and reading to him. And then she goes on TikTok or Facebook for hours until she falls asleep. Finances are good, we both make roughly the same amount of money and have good jobs. I take her out regularly.
The only issue that I have is that there’s almost no affection from her whatsoever. I’m not talking about sex, because that unfortunately doesn’t happen either. Other than when she was on bc, She has no sex drive whatsoever since becoming pregnant (which is a drastic change from before). We have had sex a few times, but it still causes her pain, and I don’t even want to do it if it can’t be mutually enjoyed. She says I love you and says all of the right things, but there’s no physical connection. If I don’t touch her, she notices and gets borderline upset, but she never ever reciprocates. It’s been over two years, counting the pregnancy and postpartum and it’s starting to really bother me. I feel like I do a lot, and it’s because I’m in love with her, not because I want a reward, but I’m starting to feel really invisible. I’ve brought up my feelings at certain times in the past, she understands how I feel, I just don’t think she cares at the moment.
I’m as sure as anyone can possibly be that she isn’t cheating. I’m not leaving her or anything. We still have a connection, but it’s only physical from my side and my frustration is building to chest pain levels. I’m afraid that this has become our new normal forever and it’s difficult to take.
So my question, is this at all normal? If so, what can I do to change my focus and help her? I’ve (as delicately as possible) mentioned that she should see a doctor about the pain and discomfort during sex, as well as just a general checkup. But she isn’t interested in that and says that it’s just normal after pregnancy. The sex and the overall blasé.
TL:DR- wife is non-affectionate for the last 2 years (pregnancy and postpartum)
2024.05.18 06:15 SwiggleMcDiggle Ryunosuke Naruhodo
Gonna freely spoil main series games up to AJ and the Chronicles Duology.
At this point in the rankdown, we're left with heavy hitters. Even the bit parts, the Caidins, the Menimemos, etc.- they all pull pretty crucial weight in bringing the often cacophonous story of DGS to life. (except olive green, but i don't have that cut in me right now). So now, it is time to kill our darlings.
Let's begin!
Horny media in general has a protagonist problem. I'm not gonna go through the mechanics of it, but if even the neanderthals in animemes have figured it out, I'm comfortable taking it as a given. Let's be honest with ourselves, this trope extends far outside the explicitly pornographic. While SAO Kirito and John NGNL aren't literally faceless, their lack of distinct identity outside of the power fantasy they're designed to conjure is plain as day. This tendency to starve protagonists of distinguishing features so that a player can more easily see themselves in them is narrative poison, as far as I'm concerned. Joel and Ellie from the Last of Us are fifty times easier to put my shoes into than Yu Narukami or Byleth, because the former two are humans that interact dynamically to their surroundings in a tangibly compelling way and the latter two are factitious wooden planks that drain the intrigue and charisma from every scene they're heavily involved in.
All this to say, the term VN protagonist is not a compliment. And the term "VN protagonist" fits Ryunosuke to a T.
I'm going to write a pretty extended breakdown of this guy over the course of two pretty damn long games, but for the sake of a hypothetical uninformed reader, I want to make it explicit that for the vast majority of his time onscreen Ryunosuke's presence is an extremely functional one. Maybe this paragraph is the only one you need to read, because to keep it a buck fifty most of the stuff Ryunosuke does is, like, seeing zany stuff and going, "What the crap!?" or being in trouble and being like "Oh jeez, this is tough!" or articulating the logic the player has already figured out. If a quip needs to be said to reset the emotional tone of a scene, more often or not it's coming out of Ryunosuke's mouth. If the case wants to remind the player of an old clue, the writing team's first instinct is to have Ryunosuke think it to himself. When the game wants to instruct to you how it wants you to feel about a character, Ryunosuke will make some remark about how he feels. This stuff is the blood and bones of storytelling, but honestly Chronicles is so much more inelegant at exposition than most other games in the series and that often hurts Ryunosuke the most. Whereas a lot of Phoenix's dialogue simultaneously serves 2 or 3 purposes, basically everything his ancestor says is uncomfortably on the nose.
Ryunosuke is himself one of the duology's primary selling points, that being his nature as the genesis of the Wright dynasty. Even as a teenager I was kinda skeptical of this premise. I was satisfied with the fact that Wright derived his legacy from Mia Fey and Miles Edgeworth- two people who, by circumstance, came to defend him when he was at his most helpless. The fact that Phoenix was a living soyjak before the grace of his defenders elucidated him to the value of protecting the weak and awakened a burning desire for truth and justice within him was really powerful to me. But I was willing to trust the plan with Ryunosuke, and I was even excited to see how this theme would be iterated on in a different environment. So you can imagine my fucking surprise when Ryunosuke is tricked into defending himself in court and spontaneously realizes that yelling Objection feels uniquely right. The game even goes out of its way to describe this feeling as animalistic, to make it even more clear that this desire within Ryunosuke is part of his inbuilt biology instead of like related to anything sentimental or any bullshit like that.
I also found his presence and banter with other characters really limp. Phoenix and Maya are a classic-style straight man funny man duo, but the dynamic is layered and lived-in. It becomes evident that while Maya is legitimately eccentric she is poignantly aware of the levity her eclectic behavior provides to Phoenix's life, and it's her way (and an effective way at that) for protecting and caring for him and the found family they establish. Phoenix's relative seriousness isn't him being a hardass, but instead comes out of the neuroticism that keeps him rooted as a rookie defense attorney throughout the first three games, which is essential to his characterization as every part of the trilogy relies upon the assumption Phoenix is not yet a fully-formed defense attorney. Chronicles reverses this dynamic, placing Susato as the by-the-books straight man, and Ryunosuke as the weirdo in their interactions together. But what this often results in is the milquetoast facets of Ryunosuke's personality being hyperaccentuated, and the two leads don't really have any chemistry. Ryunosuke does play the straight man to Sholmes, Iris, and Gregson, but none of them have an interesting back and forth. In G1 the other character does something and Ryunosuke is like "wow, that's weird!" and in G2 the other character does something and Ryunosuke is like "wow, that's weird! gotta love it, though."
If there's one thing I've seen people heap praise onto Ryunosuke for it's his "emotional journey." I don't see it. I would absolutely love to ignore it to further facilitate my point, but seeing as this is the penultimate writeup I'll make for this rankdown, I suppose it's worth some due diligence.
The rest of Ryunosuke's arc in the first game sidelines his devotion to Asogi to focus on how he learns to pursue the truth at any cost. Ryunosuke's first trial upon arriving in London is a tragedy, and it drives him to unceasingly chase the truth, even at the cost of his own immediate prestige and legal career. It might just be me, but this arc feels extremely unearned. Every single other protagonist in the series also doggedly pursues the truth. Perhaps more importantly, Ryunosuke never really personally struggles with finding the truth or the consequences of him doing so. He accepts blame in G1-5 for allowing injustice to happen in G1-3, but it's an empty gesture. There's just no way to read G1-3 in a way where Ryunosuke is complicit in injustice coming to pass. Like, what the hell was he supposed to do? Refuse to defend this guy because the vibes were off? The judge literally ends the trial prematurely in McGilded's favor as you stand there helplessly. Because of that, Ryunosuke accepting the blame for what happened two cases later reads a lot less like reconciling any sort of personal values and a lot more like he's just letting the system fuck him in order to save Gina. I guess he also reveals state secrets? But he just gets like a finger wagging at that lol gotta love London.
He doesn't really fare that much better in the second game either, treading water for the first few cases. Ryunosuke's exile presents a unique opportunity- to explore a declawed AA protagonist, to see how they navigate the world when they are not just separated but completely divorced from their beloved Lady Justice. The first game even opened the door for this by having a case without any trial segments and expanding the meaningful interactions that can happen during investigation. Naturally, G2 timeskips over this period straight into another case that Stronghart gives him.
G2-3 does feature what is probably Ryunosuke's most memorable moment in the driver's seat, when he chooses to go after Sithe even after he's already proven Harebrayne innocent. And I want to make it clear that this moment is absolutely phenomenal. The way the music, animation, and the puzzle-solving come together produces a moment with blinding white hot energy that makes my blood pump harder than maybe anything else in the damn game. But, again, for the purpose it plays in Ryunosuke's journey as an AA protagonist, it's pretty fucking disposable. AA has played around with the idea that there's more to finding the truth than just getting your client declared innocent since like, Turnabout Samurai day 3. And choosing to pursue Sithe isn't even Ryunosuke's idea- Sholmes has to have a mysterious moment of seriousness where he has to spell it out to Ryunosuke in advance.
A lot of ink has been spilled about how Susato essentially disappears as a character with agency after the sixth case out of ten, and that's true yeah lol. But I'd invite you to seriously consider how little Ryunosuke's decisions matter in the second game. There's just so much going on, so much to watch, so much to barely keep a lid on, that Ryunosuke ends up just standing where people tell him to stand for the length of the game. His relationship with Asogi, Sholmes, and Stronghart adds a lot of emotional weight to the final trials, but scarce little comes from what Ryunosuke actually does. Instead, it's that he happens to be there at all, vaguely doing lawyer things. Even in the final climactic sequences of the game, it often doesn't even feel like Stronghart is really fighting you, more often he's fighting Asogi, Van Zieks, or one of the other witnesses. And don't get me started on the very very end. For all that people argue Phoenix Wright takes the wind out of Apollo's sails in 4-4, at least Phoenix doesn't literally show up in the climax of the case, dance around, and personally deliver the final blow to villain.
Listen, it's not impossible to to weave a meaningful, even interesting story out of the shit that happens to Ryunosuke. But I keep finding myself wondering whether any of this shit actually has anything to do with Ryunosuke as a guy or just the inherent consequences of the circumstances he's found himself in. At all parts of Ryunosuke's arc, the writers wanted to have their cake and eat it too. The game expects you to believe that Ryunosuke has a near-divine aptitude for the law as he discovers something akin to a bloodlust for the truth in G1-1, and yet at the same time he's a reluctant entrant to the legal system who makes his decision to pursue the law in order to fulfill the legacy of a friend. Ryunosuke has to learn a vital lesson and accept blame for the truth being lost in the past in G1-5, and yet the game is too afraid of making him any rougher or less relatable to make him actually culpable of anything going wrong in the tragedy of G1-3. The game thematically positions him as the humble, foreign cure to the disease spreading in London, and yet at the same time it feels reluctant to give him any distinct value or trait that makes him successful at what he does.
Every part of Ryunosuke's journey is prescribed to him. Yujin tells him to raise his hand up in G1-1, he's forced to defend himself in G1-2, Asogi leaves behind the perfect spot for him to fill, and Stronghart assigns him to McGilded in G1-3. He's handed desperate, transparently innocent clients that are ingrained into his immediate social vicinity in G1-4, G1-5, and G2-2. In G2-3, he's handed Harebrayne's case by Stronghart, and he has his important decision dictated to him by Sholmes before the second day of trial. The finale of the game being to defend the edgelord prosecutor (who's really not so bad of a guy after all) does not do anything to dispel the feeling of going through the motions. And then he goes back to Japan.
Did he really gain anything in London? Did London really gain anything from him being there?
His banter on occasion feels a little bit more lived in than Ryunosuke's, but for every remark he makes that expands the world, he'll make 3 more that recap obvious information and pad for time. He often feels like he collects points with the community simply by being around, but his presence never feels crucial. When the player is placed in Maya's sandals in 2-4, there's an extra layer of discomfort from being distanced from Phoenix's perspective that adds to Maya's anguish. When the player occupies Mia's perspective in T&T, it adds a layer of uncanniness to the proceedings that finally reaches its cartharsis in the tragic end of 3-4. But it never feels unnatural to leave Ryunosuke's perspective to do a filler case as Susato or do a set piece as Sholmes and Mikotoba. Ryunosuke's presence is never missed.
At the end of the day, I don't need a protagonist to be deep. The phrase "simple but effective" is perhaps considered blasphemy around here but the enduring power of Indiana Jones and Rocky Balboa is not lost on me. But I do need a protagonist to be something. What did they really do with Ryunosuke? He was sold as a rebirth. When I first played the games, I felt he was a rehash. Having matured in my love for the franchise, he feels like a regression.
There's a cruel, brutal pragmatist in me that has been playing the Devil's Advocate in my head the entire time I've been writing this cut. While this whole rankdown business is about separating characters and evaluating them purely as individuals, no individual part of a story exists exists without context. At the end of the day, the goal of writing a character isn't necessarily to make them the intrinsically "best" character possible, but instead to elevate and make the best possible contribution to the story they're a part of. It's an unsexy thought for sure, but there's wisdom in it. If you caught me on vacation with a beer in my hand, you might even get me to admit the following- in a story that's more about a place than it is about any one person, perhaps the most functional protagonist is one that can most efficiently witness the environment around them. After all, being an avatar for the player is perhaps the single most important role for a video game protagonist, and so it's okay for a hero to exist largely as a focal lens.
And perhaps that's true. But I'm not gonna be putting them on any of my top 10 lists.
submitted by SwiggleMcDiggle to TGAACrankdown [link] [comments]
At this point in the rankdown, we're left with heavy hitters. Even the bit parts, the Caidins, the Menimemos, etc.- they all pull pretty crucial weight in bringing the often cacophonous story of DGS to life. (except olive green, but i don't have that cut in me right now). So now, it is time to kill our darlings.
Let's begin!
There Goes My Hero
Travis Touchdown: "Wait a sec. You want me to tie up all these loose ends? I don't think so." Henry: "You're the protagonist. I'm just a cool, handsome foil who happens to be your twin brother. Hate to say it, but it's your job." -No More HeroesFor all the good the medium has done us it's often hard to deny the mainstream appearance of the visual novel as something of an artistic ghetto (especially when directly compared to its non-visual counterpart). Even a reader who attributes no value at all to prose or literary theory can't deny that, for example, the prevalence of casual sexual violence in visual novels is at the very least a bad look. At risk of belaboring the point- this isn't a Japan thing, or at least not entirely. Visual novels specifically, with so much of their artisanal and traditional roots housed in good old 1990s ecchi and dojinsoft, have evolved let's call them "adaptational features" that linger even in the genre's gelded contemporaries. Even nonsexual, "serious" VNs like sci;adv still retain things like heroine routes and adapted reputation systems from the dating sims of yore.
Horny media in general has a protagonist problem. I'm not gonna go through the mechanics of it, but if even the neanderthals in animemes have figured it out, I'm comfortable taking it as a given. Let's be honest with ourselves, this trope extends far outside the explicitly pornographic. While SAO Kirito and John NGNL aren't literally faceless, their lack of distinct identity outside of the power fantasy they're designed to conjure is plain as day. This tendency to starve protagonists of distinguishing features so that a player can more easily see themselves in them is narrative poison, as far as I'm concerned. Joel and Ellie from the Last of Us are fifty times easier to put my shoes into than Yu Narukami or Byleth, because the former two are humans that interact dynamically to their surroundings in a tangibly compelling way and the latter two are factitious wooden planks that drain the intrigue and charisma from every scene they're heavily involved in.
All this to say, the term VN protagonist is not a compliment. And the term "VN protagonist" fits Ryunosuke to a T.
I'm going to write a pretty extended breakdown of this guy over the course of two pretty damn long games, but for the sake of a hypothetical uninformed reader, I want to make it explicit that for the vast majority of his time onscreen Ryunosuke's presence is an extremely functional one. Maybe this paragraph is the only one you need to read, because to keep it a buck fifty most of the stuff Ryunosuke does is, like, seeing zany stuff and going, "What the crap!?" or being in trouble and being like "Oh jeez, this is tough!" or articulating the logic the player has already figured out. If a quip needs to be said to reset the emotional tone of a scene, more often or not it's coming out of Ryunosuke's mouth. If the case wants to remind the player of an old clue, the writing team's first instinct is to have Ryunosuke think it to himself. When the game wants to instruct to you how it wants you to feel about a character, Ryunosuke will make some remark about how he feels. This stuff is the blood and bones of storytelling, but honestly Chronicles is so much more inelegant at exposition than most other games in the series and that often hurts Ryunosuke the most. Whereas a lot of Phoenix's dialogue simultaneously serves 2 or 3 purposes, basically everything his ancestor says is uncomfortably on the nose.
Ryunosuke is himself one of the duology's primary selling points, that being his nature as the genesis of the Wright dynasty. Even as a teenager I was kinda skeptical of this premise. I was satisfied with the fact that Wright derived his legacy from Mia Fey and Miles Edgeworth- two people who, by circumstance, came to defend him when he was at his most helpless. The fact that Phoenix was a living soyjak before the grace of his defenders elucidated him to the value of protecting the weak and awakened a burning desire for truth and justice within him was really powerful to me. But I was willing to trust the plan with Ryunosuke, and I was even excited to see how this theme would be iterated on in a different environment. So you can imagine my fucking surprise when Ryunosuke is tricked into defending himself in court and spontaneously realizes that yelling Objection feels uniquely right. The game even goes out of its way to describe this feeling as animalistic, to make it even more clear that this desire within Ryunosuke is part of his inbuilt biology instead of like related to anything sentimental or any bullshit like that.
I also found his presence and banter with other characters really limp. Phoenix and Maya are a classic-style straight man funny man duo, but the dynamic is layered and lived-in. It becomes evident that while Maya is legitimately eccentric she is poignantly aware of the levity her eclectic behavior provides to Phoenix's life, and it's her way (and an effective way at that) for protecting and caring for him and the found family they establish. Phoenix's relative seriousness isn't him being a hardass, but instead comes out of the neuroticism that keeps him rooted as a rookie defense attorney throughout the first three games, which is essential to his characterization as every part of the trilogy relies upon the assumption Phoenix is not yet a fully-formed defense attorney. Chronicles reverses this dynamic, placing Susato as the by-the-books straight man, and Ryunosuke as the weirdo in their interactions together. But what this often results in is the milquetoast facets of Ryunosuke's personality being hyperaccentuated, and the two leads don't really have any chemistry. Ryunosuke does play the straight man to Sholmes, Iris, and Gregson, but none of them have an interesting back and forth. In G1 the other character does something and Ryunosuke is like "wow, that's weird!" and in G2 the other character does something and Ryunosuke is like "wow, that's weird! gotta love it, though."
If there's one thing I've seen people heap praise onto Ryunosuke for it's his "emotional journey." I don't see it. I would absolutely love to ignore it to further facilitate my point, but seeing as this is the penultimate writeup I'll make for this rankdown, I suppose it's worth some due diligence.
The Tale of Ryunosuke Naruhodo
"Men who are trapped by the chains of ‘maybe’ will never reach their dreams." -Ancient Chinese ProverbThe first two cases of the duology are honestly some of the most bizarre storytelling in the entire series in terms of the protagonist's arc. Through an insanely convoluted set of coincidences that would make the Soseki cases balk, Ryunosuke Naruhodo has the dubious honor of being the only AA MC to accidentally become a defense attorney. That doesn't bother me by itself, but it's a frankly bizarre amount of effort to establish this specific relationship between Ryunosuke and the law by the beginning of G1-3. In short: Naruhodo has demonstrable talent with the law, but he's still a fish out of water, and he's largely doing it out of devotion to his past and present friends. The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles takes about 10 hours to get to that point. Ace Attorney 1 gets there in less than fifteen minutes.
The rest of Ryunosuke's arc in the first game sidelines his devotion to Asogi to focus on how he learns to pursue the truth at any cost. Ryunosuke's first trial upon arriving in London is a tragedy, and it drives him to unceasingly chase the truth, even at the cost of his own immediate prestige and legal career. It might just be me, but this arc feels extremely unearned. Every single other protagonist in the series also doggedly pursues the truth. Perhaps more importantly, Ryunosuke never really personally struggles with finding the truth or the consequences of him doing so. He accepts blame in G1-5 for allowing injustice to happen in G1-3, but it's an empty gesture. There's just no way to read G1-3 in a way where Ryunosuke is complicit in injustice coming to pass. Like, what the hell was he supposed to do? Refuse to defend this guy because the vibes were off? The judge literally ends the trial prematurely in McGilded's favor as you stand there helplessly. Because of that, Ryunosuke accepting the blame for what happened two cases later reads a lot less like reconciling any sort of personal values and a lot more like he's just letting the system fuck him in order to save Gina. I guess he also reveals state secrets? But he just gets like a finger wagging at that lol gotta love London.
He doesn't really fare that much better in the second game either, treading water for the first few cases. Ryunosuke's exile presents a unique opportunity- to explore a declawed AA protagonist, to see how they navigate the world when they are not just separated but completely divorced from their beloved Lady Justice. The first game even opened the door for this by having a case without any trial segments and expanding the meaningful interactions that can happen during investigation. Naturally, G2 timeskips over this period straight into another case that Stronghart gives him.
G2-3 does feature what is probably Ryunosuke's most memorable moment in the driver's seat, when he chooses to go after Sithe even after he's already proven Harebrayne innocent. And I want to make it clear that this moment is absolutely phenomenal. The way the music, animation, and the puzzle-solving come together produces a moment with blinding white hot energy that makes my blood pump harder than maybe anything else in the damn game. But, again, for the purpose it plays in Ryunosuke's journey as an AA protagonist, it's pretty fucking disposable. AA has played around with the idea that there's more to finding the truth than just getting your client declared innocent since like, Turnabout Samurai day 3. And choosing to pursue Sithe isn't even Ryunosuke's idea- Sholmes has to have a mysterious moment of seriousness where he has to spell it out to Ryunosuke in advance.
A lot of ink has been spilled about how Susato essentially disappears as a character with agency after the sixth case out of ten, and that's true yeah lol. But I'd invite you to seriously consider how little Ryunosuke's decisions matter in the second game. There's just so much going on, so much to watch, so much to barely keep a lid on, that Ryunosuke ends up just standing where people tell him to stand for the length of the game. His relationship with Asogi, Sholmes, and Stronghart adds a lot of emotional weight to the final trials, but scarce little comes from what Ryunosuke actually does. Instead, it's that he happens to be there at all, vaguely doing lawyer things. Even in the final climactic sequences of the game, it often doesn't even feel like Stronghart is really fighting you, more often he's fighting Asogi, Van Zieks, or one of the other witnesses. And don't get me started on the very very end. For all that people argue Phoenix Wright takes the wind out of Apollo's sails in 4-4, at least Phoenix doesn't literally show up in the climax of the case, dance around, and personally deliver the final blow to villain.
Listen, it's not impossible to to weave a meaningful, even interesting story out of the shit that happens to Ryunosuke. But I keep finding myself wondering whether any of this shit actually has anything to do with Ryunosuke as a guy or just the inherent consequences of the circumstances he's found himself in. At all parts of Ryunosuke's arc, the writers wanted to have their cake and eat it too. The game expects you to believe that Ryunosuke has a near-divine aptitude for the law as he discovers something akin to a bloodlust for the truth in G1-1, and yet at the same time he's a reluctant entrant to the legal system who makes his decision to pursue the law in order to fulfill the legacy of a friend. Ryunosuke has to learn a vital lesson and accept blame for the truth being lost in the past in G1-5, and yet the game is too afraid of making him any rougher or less relatable to make him actually culpable of anything going wrong in the tragedy of G1-3. The game thematically positions him as the humble, foreign cure to the disease spreading in London, and yet at the same time it feels reluctant to give him any distinct value or trait that makes him successful at what he does.
Every part of Ryunosuke's journey is prescribed to him. Yujin tells him to raise his hand up in G1-1, he's forced to defend himself in G1-2, Asogi leaves behind the perfect spot for him to fill, and Stronghart assigns him to McGilded in G1-3. He's handed desperate, transparently innocent clients that are ingrained into his immediate social vicinity in G1-4, G1-5, and G2-2. In G2-3, he's handed Harebrayne's case by Stronghart, and he has his important decision dictated to him by Sholmes before the second day of trial. The finale of the game being to defend the edgelord prosecutor (who's really not so bad of a guy after all) does not do anything to dispel the feeling of going through the motions. And then he goes back to Japan.
Did he really gain anything in London? Did London really gain anything from him being there?
The End of a Hero
"The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world." -Skibidi ToiletThe widespread response to Ryunosuke kinda... shocks me? Even given everything I've written, I don't think bro is like bottom 5, but I've seen people say that Ryunosuke is like one of the best characters in the game. And, like, what? I legitimately believe that Phoenix is one of the strongest characters in the OT, but Ryunosuke? Did I play the same game as everyone else?
His banter on occasion feels a little bit more lived in than Ryunosuke's, but for every remark he makes that expands the world, he'll make 3 more that recap obvious information and pad for time. He often feels like he collects points with the community simply by being around, but his presence never feels crucial. When the player is placed in Maya's sandals in 2-4, there's an extra layer of discomfort from being distanced from Phoenix's perspective that adds to Maya's anguish. When the player occupies Mia's perspective in T&T, it adds a layer of uncanniness to the proceedings that finally reaches its cartharsis in the tragic end of 3-4. But it never feels unnatural to leave Ryunosuke's perspective to do a filler case as Susato or do a set piece as Sholmes and Mikotoba. Ryunosuke's presence is never missed.
At the end of the day, I don't need a protagonist to be deep. The phrase "simple but effective" is perhaps considered blasphemy around here but the enduring power of Indiana Jones and Rocky Balboa is not lost on me. But I do need a protagonist to be something. What did they really do with Ryunosuke? He was sold as a rebirth. When I first played the games, I felt he was a rehash. Having matured in my love for the franchise, he feels like a regression.
There's a cruel, brutal pragmatist in me that has been playing the Devil's Advocate in my head the entire time I've been writing this cut. While this whole rankdown business is about separating characters and evaluating them purely as individuals, no individual part of a story exists exists without context. At the end of the day, the goal of writing a character isn't necessarily to make them the intrinsically "best" character possible, but instead to elevate and make the best possible contribution to the story they're a part of. It's an unsexy thought for sure, but there's wisdom in it. If you caught me on vacation with a beer in my hand, you might even get me to admit the following- in a story that's more about a place than it is about any one person, perhaps the most functional protagonist is one that can most efficiently witness the environment around them. After all, being an avatar for the player is perhaps the single most important role for a video game protagonist, and so it's okay for a hero to exist largely as a focal lens.
And perhaps that's true. But I'm not gonna be putting them on any of my top 10 lists.
2024.05.18 06:09 Mountain_Wasabi HPP Hypno-Peripheral Processing by Dr. Lloyd Glauberman (Download)
 | HPP Hypno-Peripheral Processing by Dr. Lloyd Glauberman submitted by Mountain_Wasabi to PeaceStudying [link] [comments] HPP Hypno-Peripheral Processing by Dr. Lloyd Glauberman Reviews: Is it worth it?This collection includes:
What is HPP?For over 30 years, Dr. Lloyd Glauberman, a Manhattan-based psychologist-psychotherapist and expert in business-related stress management and behavior change, has helped patients, both adolescents and adults achieve a wide variety of personal and professional goals. In 1990, he dramatically expanded his patient-base as he launched the Hypno-Peripheral Processing (HPP) audio programs, a series of CDs that combine aspects of Ericksonian hypnosis and Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) to assist people on their journey to attain greater personal fulfillment.Recognizing that emotional intelligence (EQ) more than IQ is responsible for an individual’s success in life, he designed the HPP audio programs to help people channel emotion into successful behavior. The programs lead users into the theta state of consciousness, the “twilight state” between waking and sleeping, where their ability to generate positive emotional shifts quickly is greatly enhanced. Most significantly, the programs are also entertaining and easy-to-use and can help people achieve their goals without having to spend the time and financial resources required by traditional therapy. Each 30-minute HPP program weaves a series of parable-like stories that gently overload the listener’s conscious mind. Known as dual induction, this technique shuts down the logical part of the mind and allows for a deep state of relaxation ideal for the absorption of positive suggestions by the listener’s subconscious mind. Users report positive results after a few sessions. Changes begin to spontaneously appear- changes that occur naturally at the right times, in the right places, and with the right people. The line of CDs is divided into five categories: Love and relationships; Money and Success; Emotional Well-being; Health and Fitness; Creativity and Inspiration; and Stress and Relaxation. These CDs are the only hypnosis-based audio programs to use the dual induction-story telling method. “For a self-help product to be valuable, it must meet four criteria. First, the obvious, it must be effective. Second, it must be convenient and easy to use. Third, it must be entertaining so that the user enjoys the product. And fourth, it must produce results quickly.” -Dr. Lloyd Glauberman |
2024.05.18 05:16 Obesity-Won-Kenobi Chains of the Veiled (4/?)
Hey demons, It's me, ya boi...
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Notice: This story is about to humanity, but they are introduced much later into the narrative.
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Station 68 was one of necessity, built along with many others to remain active in the case it was needed during any sort of instance of Civilian Hardship. This was a place built for those with no path to rest and wait to walk a new one, and as such had many government-funded commodities to those that sought refuge here. Many found shelter here, homeless through any situation, from financial ruin to wartime refugees. They were civilian projects, for those who could not care for themselves, for those to rest and rely on until they could regain a foothold in reality. To regain control financially and socially.
This was not just free housing however, there are certain conditions that need to be met in order for your stay here to be acceptable. This wasn’t a service meant to be abused, it was for the homeless and poor alike, and those who needed it only... As such, the amenities provided weren’t stellar in any regards. There were recreational activities and freely distributed foods, but it was minimal and decent at best. It was free though, and beggars aren’t in a position to choose what kind of help they get. It’s enough to get reassurance that you don't need to worry about next meals. There was one thing about this place that was rather disappointing though… As Kazzi was currently complaining about in the seat across from me in the larger corner booth.
“Why pay for drinks?! Everything else here is free! Sure, it’s cheaper than anywhere else, but still! It just seems inconsistent with how everything else is here.” she spoke in a fit as she took another swig of alcohol. I could only sigh in a disappointed manner, finding Kazzi’s current behavior both unacceptable, and out of character. I knew that she was supposedly a party animal from what others in the department would suggest, but not to such a degree as to already be at her second bottle halfway into the evening.
After a second of regaining my barrings, I looked back up at the Fulkari woman to respond, “Well, drinking isn’t considered something that should be encouraged Kazzi. It’s an incentive to seek other means of coping with struggle, even if it’s as cheap as it is. It’s also more of a luxury on a station with barely any to give. The fact it’s as cheap as this despite its surprising quality really doesn’t seem to have the effect though. It seems like everyone that was on the yacht who escaped with us is also taking advantage of this feature.” It wasn’t a lie either, I say many others entered before and after us. All grabbing what they could, drawing the bartenders with requests as they wished to drown away problems.
Hopefully those staff got paid aplenty for dealing with shit like this. Some people were less than savory after having to deal with a mechanical extermination that removed them from their very way of life. Everyone and their mothers wanted something to down to distract from the trauma that flooded everyone’s mind, and I was no exception. With a glass of Vlekvir branded Whiskey, I took a long swig, downing a good portion of the bottle. Kazzi seemed to cheek me on somewhat, as she seemed to chuckle at my prolonged chugging. I simply rolled my eyes to Kazzi’s antics and continued to eat my meals. I made sure to drink enough water to not end up a complete Drunk, knowing that I was going to need to direct Kazzi back to the ship considering her tipsy state.
Why is it that I always have to hinder my fun just so this Fulkari doesn’t kill herself in the aftermath of her own?! It’s a serious issue that I refuse to tolerate any longer. Regardless of the current favor Kazzi had in this game of life, the tables would soon turn after I would help her back to the ship. Kazzi would owe me a favor for this, and that was something I intended to make good use of.
“Excuse me?” I heard, jumping at the suddenness of the question, spoke so close. I looked around frantically in response to being so startled, only to look down and find a small entity. A Kraviska, an insectoid species known for rapid repopulation with their method of reproduction being unique compared to most others. As long as they had a type of Queen to their hive, and enough meat and yeast to feed them, then they'd never run out of larvae. Her blue chitinous exoskeleton glistened in the light, and her four compound eyes bore an unease into my gaze. Her two claw-like pincers clicked as she spoke.
I took a moment to recollect myself from the scare, with Kazzi all but laughing at me in her tipsy state. I scoffed at her tease and looked back down at the Kraviska. “How did I not hear you walk over to us?” I asked her, and her antenna seemed to flicker up and down in her species form of embarrassment. For what I could only assume was the scare. She held herself low, keeping her tray of food close to her as she stuttered to respond. “I-I’m sorry,” She spoke. “It’s just something that I end up doing… I’m not trying to sneak about like I do, it just happens. I don’t understand why or how, but I make silent movements.”
“Is that a Kraviska thing, or just something that you do because…” I asked, leaving the question incomplete, waiting for a response. She looked to the side for all but a moment, antenna continuing to wiggle in embarrassment. “It’s something that I myself do, not my species. I’m sorry, I really am.” Seeing her hiding her face with her tray the way she was, I sighed and opted out of any further confrontation. “It’s fine, You just startled me is all… sorry for coming off as so hostile.” I said with a nod, a gesture meant to convey that I meant no escalation of conflict.
She seemed to ease up with this reassurance that I provided and lowered her tray from her face. Her face reverted back to her general curiosity that she initially spoke with. “I’m sorry for the scare. But… you see, the whole establishment is packed with patrons. My significant other and I can’t find a seat anywhere else. You’re in one of the larger booths, so I was wondering if maybe we could squeeze in? I-If you’d be willing, that is…” The Kriviska spoke in a meager tone, trying her best to be as polite as possible. I was honestly surprised to find such an non-confrontational member of her species, considering how prideful some of the supposed hive queens could be.
I nodded and responded in affirmation of the request, “Of course, there’s plenty of space for you and whoever else. Kazzi, could you move in a bit?” The tipsy fulkari huffed in annoyance as she scooted aside for whoever might need a seat. I gave her a glare, and one that seemed to have the expected effect. Being a hardened navy man, she was quick to correct her attitude when she saw me. As for the Insectoid, she nodded her head and went over to speak with…
A… A T’ccoj?! T’ccoj were silicon-based lifeforms that were essentially just massive electrical golems. Electrical signals capable of transmitting all about a metal interior which functioned as neurons in a brain in biological life. These electrical signals are so powerful that it allows them a limited ability to manipulate broad and wide bipedal legs they possess to move. They weren’t able to last long however, only able to live for a few hours after being struck with lightning. Only when they were discovered and provided robotic arms to manipulate tools, and battery packs to increase their menial lifespans, were they able to build up cities and civilization proper. T’ccoj were known for they’re adept learning and utilized in a plethora of roles. This T’ccoj in particular was large compared to most others, easily reaching my height, and my kind were one of the taller species.
When the insectoid walked over with the Living mineral, I found myself nervous and confused. Silicon life was always something that I was antsy around, I wasn’t sure why. It was just a great unease to speak with what was essentially a rock… It would be best to not call it that. I’m pretty sure that’s a racist term for lithoid life to refer to them as rocks.
The Kriviska hopped up into the seating and used her multi jointed legs to scutter across the cushions to the corner. She sat close to Kazzi and gestured to her silicon companion to take a seat just by her. Getting a better look at the T’ccoj, I saw the makeup of the living mineral. Its body was divided between crystalline orange and rocky brown textures. A battery pack along the back of its body, and powerful hydraulic based robotic arms allowing for heavy lifting. They were similar in color and texture to the T’ccoj’s natural body and moved in blocky and stiff manners like that of the Lithoid. It moved to sit downright next to the Insectoid…
What did the Kriviska refer to this entity as?! A significant other?!
“Allow me to introduce ourselves.” She spoke, regaining my direct attention. Whilst she did have my focus, my gaze was still trained on the T’ccoj, trying to get a better understanding of who I was dealing with here. “My name is Zikee, and this is Bocc… my husband.” Whilst I did my best to keep my shock as internal as I could. I found it baffling to see an insectoid like her with a lithoid like this. There was such a divide between compatibility, that I found it strange to be a witness of. Despite my ability to maintain composure, my Fulkari associate wasn’t so like me in the current state she found herself in. Being so tipsy caused her to nearly shout out in raw shock at the fact. As she spoke, it was slurred and unfiltered due to the unnerving amounts of alcohol in her system.
“You married a Lithoid? As a small and fragile Kriviska?! Wouldn’t that lead to some very dangerous situations, like being crushed by the big guy's weight?” I turned to glare at Kazzi, trying to shut her up from this drinking sprawl she seemed to invite with her comment. My glare didn’t have so much of the same effect as before. She seemed to have a bit more resistance to my influence due to the increased effect of her alcohol intake. I should have stopped her sooner, but decided against it since Kazzi needed some relief after the attack. I was beginning to regret that decision even more than before…
Zikee seemed to sigh an annoyed sigh, likely having this conversation many times before. “No… it doesn’t. We Kriviska’s don’t have as fragile exoskeletons as theories believe. Our kind developed in a high gravity world after all! I could bench press Bocc on certain low gravity worlds. Admittedly there are very few where that could happen, but they do exist! Not to mention that I love Bocc, they’re a joy to have around. A shy and gentle giant who’s all but the most tender with little ones. They’re my husband because I love them for who they are. They’re a loving soul despite the hardened exterior they have.” She turned to look at Bocc as she spoke, looking at them with a sense of compassion and devotion that I considered rare to see.
Bocc had a vocalizer attachment, one which allowed them to speak to others freely. Using the electrical signals in their rock brain to operate the machine and speak as needed. “My goal is to be the best I can be… For her. She deserves as much for all she does for me.” He said in a heartfelt tone of conviction. One which caused the Kriviska to turn her head in embarrassment. “Oh stop it you.” She teased, waving one of her arms at him in a dismissive manner, chuckling all the while.
“Seems like you two are really close and trust each other. Can I ask how you two met?” I asked, wanting to know the story to these two. It’s not every day that I find such an interesting duo like the one before me. Bocc seemed to respond on their behalf, “We met years ago when we fell on hard times. We met at a restaurant where I was working, and she was eating at the time. I decided to strike up a conversation after work and it ended up leading me to ask her out. We had our ups and downs, but we pushed through because of the understanding we share. Not to mention, despite our incompatibility in terms of physical appearances, we were never concerned with. We cared about each other because of who we were, not because of any other desires. We wanted to be with one another, because… We just love each other.”
… I was surprised to find such an outlandish couple to be one of the most wholesome I’ve ever seen. “But what about-” Kazzi began to ask before I shut her lips myself with my claws. Kazzi was about to ask something vulgar, and I refused to let her alcohol-ridden system ruin something so pure. The adoration in Zikee’s compound eyes was evident to the devotion she had for Bocc. “As long as we have each other, we’re complete. No matter what else we lose…”
Zikee’s comment left open many interpretations to be made, as the last part was spoken solemnly. As such, it led me to ask the question, “You were part of the evacuation of Fojhiam too, right?”
The two froze up for a moment, before turning back to me. They laid still and motionless as the thick air was left to permeate the surroundings of our booth. From their silence, a thousand words were spoken. It was clear that these two were very much victims like us, victims of tragedy and loss. As hundreds of billions of people lost connection with the wider galaxy. The whole event is almost taboo to speak on, despite us being witness to it. The two of them seemed hesitant to speak up, not wanting to confirm anything right yet. Despite the heavy air, and the stoic expressions they tried to wear, I could feel the heavy emotion radiate from them both. I was going to say something, but Bocc spoke first, their mechanical voice a product of the machine they spoke through.
“We were able to escape on a Jasvikan Superyacht. It was luck that was on our side for such a wealthy individual to permit us entry without leaving. I guess there are good people no matter the walk of life they take.” Bocc said, giving a general idea of his opinion of wealthy individuals. But what my attention gravitated to during their whole exposition was the ship they escaped on… the one that-.
“Oh, you escaped on my ship!” Kazzi spoke up, saying the statement with a drunken burp. I swear this Fulkari is going to be the death of me. The two were shocked at the idea, sitting before the owner of the ship that led them to safety. Zikee was completely stunned by the claim and stuttered to respond. “Y-You’re telling me… T-That you’re the owner of the Jaskivan yacht?! That’s insane! You must enjoy browsing the exotic side of the market! Regardless of the ship itself, you have no idea how grateful I am for you saving us!” She scuttered over to Kazzi to go about shaking her hand and conveying appreciation. The Fulkari woman was able to at bare minimum reply with equal appreciation, even if her words were slurred.
It was amusing to see, but turning to Bocc on the other side gave a completely different look. Something that seemed like a crack in the sort of shy and stoic personality which Zikee advertised. Their tone was one of barely contained anger, shrouded in annoyance. “So… were you the one that flew the ship? Or was it someone else?” Why he was asking that made me unnerved and concerned for my safety. I was the one who piloted the ship and did so in a way which tossed a few folks around, despite the prime conditions of the gravity generators. Was Bocc tossed about, and bitter about the condition that I inflicted upon him with my flying?
Kazzi was dismissive of the claim made by the T’ccoj, which caused the attention of the lithoid to shift onto me. T’ccoj’s didn’t have any sort of face, let alone a head. Despite this inability to convey emotion in a traditional manner, I could see in the way the Bocc composed himself that they were ticked off over something. “Was it you then?” They asked me, with a glare despite not having eyes. It terrified me to answer truthfully, because I was the helm throughout that whole escape. I was once a military man, serviced upon a warship during the outbreak of the GA-Foretold War. Even during the days of service, a loose cannon was the best way to describe my performance at the helm. For better or for worse, I was one to fly in a manner that could only contribute to great insanity.
Flying which seemed to be a major tick in the metaphysical eyes of the T’ccoj before me. I twiddled my claws as I struggled to respond. However, my reaction was enough to provide more than enough evidence to my role during the escape. Evidence which was swiftly examined by the Lithoid, and which attributed to the T’ccoj slamming the robotic appendages they possessed onto the table in aggression. They stood in place as they brought a claw to point directly at my face as they spoke in a tone which clearly cited their annoyance. “Do you have any sort of awareness of how your flying strains the reactor?! I was needing to evacuate the powerplant because of the dangerous conditions that the reactor was reaching with the overclocking that you set upon the suffering machine! Yes, you got us out of that nightmare, but you in turn caused me to experience one in turn! Do you have any idea of how devastating it is as a reactor technician to watch such a tremendously important machine be abused by such reckless flying?!”
Kazzi and Zikee both exchanged glances as they coward away from the seething lithoid, Bocc was creating a bit of a scene with the passion behind their anger. I was able to piece together the story in my mind relatively quickly. Bocc was without doubt the one on the other end of the call that I had during the evacuation. Calling the power plant to prepare for the overclock when I did. It makes much more sense now, considering my actions did cause major stress upon the Prestigious Vow’s framework. I began to speak in a last ditch effort to explain myself to the T’ccoj.
“Bocc, please understand that anything less than the extremes that I was pushing upon the ship wouldn’t have gotten us through the warp gate the way we did. I did what I needed to in order to prevent any contact with enemy missiles, and pass through the warp gate through the collapse. I’m sorry for the stress I put on the ship, but there wouldn’t be a ship if I did anything less.” I stated, causing the T’ccoj to flinch for a moment. I could tell from the way Bocc held itself that they understood that I was right. Despite agreeing with me, they shivered in aggravated annoyance with me for my reckless piloting.
The Lithoid grunted and begrudgingly slumped back into their seat. They held their hands up to the peak of their torso, like how one would palm their face with their hands. Despite not having a head, it was clear whatever was in its place for Bocc was hung low. A great disdain was ever present, but one whose initial prominence was substituted with a current sulking. “That poor reactor…” I heard muffled by the T’ccoj as they struggled to cope with the damage to the machine. I could tell without doubt that this reactor technician took their position very seriously, almost viewing the reactor system as an extension of themselves.
Zikee seemed to scutter to her lithoid partner and rest a claw upon their shoulder, giving them comfort as they seemed to wallow in misery at the condition of the ship. I won’t lie, whilst it got out of the evacuation the least banged up, that meant very little considering all the other ships. Some of those husks shouldn’t have been flying, but they hung within the drydocks of the station, waiting to either be taken to repair yards or scrap yards alike. Most couldn’t afford to repair them like Kazzi, as such I anticipated many of them to be scrapped. That was probably something that ached the lithoid.
“You seem to have a great love and reverence for these kinds of things. Technology is something that you adore isn’t it?” I asked, garnering the attention of the T’ccoj. “Indeed so,” Bocc replied not soon after. “It’s technology that has allowed my people to become a true civilization. To be able to survive for more than a few simple fleeting hours. We exist as a testament to the wonders that such technology provides, as such I feel indebted to the machines that encompass the everyday lives of those loyal to the Assembly. I want to one day understand every modern technological marvel, to one day become more than a reactor technician and become a true inventor.”
I felt a sense of warmth at the rather pure dream, and huffed in amusement before properly speaking. “Your passion for this goal will attest to it coming to reality. I wish you well in achieving it.” The lithoid seemed to appreciate my words of affirmation, and shifted to a much less stiff composure. Bocc sighed synthetically through their vocalizer, before looking back at me to respond. “Thank you for such supporting words Kovvak. I’m… I’m sorry for speaking the way I did. Even though it was a personal reason, it was still unacceptable for me to speak so brashly.”
“That’s quite alright,” I added. “We can all lose sight of what’s important when clouded by heavy emotion. I’m sorry for the reckless flying, but at least you’re here to curse me for it now rather than being cursed to walk through the next life alone, right?” The Lithoid only chuckled at my words. “You are most correct. Maybe I gave you too little credit before… I’m glad to be shown otherwise now.”
“I have that effect on people.” I speak in a joking manner, one which warrants a laugh from Zikee and Bocc. Kazzi said nothing, blacking out rather easily after the alcohol in her system finally took control. I could only sigh at the Fulkari woman… She’s going to really need my help handling such a prominent hangover once all is said and done-
“Everyone listen,” I hear someone speak up from the bar. Causing my train of thought to shift tracks towards the source of the commotion. I wasn’t the only one to have their gaze pulled to this new source, Zikee and Bocc also did the same. The Kraviska hoisting herself to look over the back of the seat towards the bar, and the T’ccoj having their robotic eye lift up without having to move themselves. Kazzi is still blackout drunk from all the alcoholic influence she was subjected to at the moment.
What was a simple conversation between strangers turned into a strange situation as the bartender moved their appendage to show a remote, one with had their eyes fully trained on as they poked away at numerous buttons. The remote was one for the televisions, as they shifted to switch to CCNN, the Core Central News Network. The tv volumes also increased to ensure that this was the main attention grabber in the room. Whilst that was the case, I also looked outside to find that many of the overhead televisions and other such devices were being changed to shift to what seemed like breaking news. The CCNN showed their host news anchor speaking on the GA council head. The representatives of each of the Elder species of the entire organization were present. Each one standing before a podium being recorded by the camera which was transmitting across all channels. This was a PSA, a majorly important PSA given the presence of such important people being presented.
Already I knew well what this was about. After all, practically everyone here in the establishment was a victim of the tragedy. Majority on the station were all there on Fojhiam as it fell. Not everyone in the universe knew however. There were still many worlds in the GA, among outreaches that took around a full day of travel to achieve. The GA would only ever make announcements like this under certain conditions and never anything less.
All instances pertaining to massively influential events. Almost all of them are related to disasters…
The woman who stood in the middle podium was tall and lanky. A Svenoiraq, one of the eight founding species, and chairwoman of the galactic assembly’s council chambers. With three long and spindly fingers holding down firmly at the edges of the podium, her pale white skin glistened against the fabric backdrop of the set. A long neck and pale flat face, adorned with four binocular eyes and a vertical mouth. Chairman Ryu was the most powerful in the GA, and her presence at the PSA conference was no mistake.
“My fellow sapients”, she spoke in a calculated manner, with little emotion in her voice. Her eyes glazed over with an almost lifeless expression, magnified only by her monotone voice. “18 hours, 56 minutes, and fourteen seconds ago, we of the GA high command received an alert regarding unregistered fleet activity in the Fulkari home system. An unknown fleet of an origin that is both mysterious and obvious all the same. Before you, shall be shown what little footage we managed to recover from one of the military vessels that escaped the carnage. I beg you to avert the eyes of your children.”
A Holographic display formed behind the Elders, one that provided the perspective of a ship camera. Raw and unedited footage based on the condition of the camera. A small display was provided in the corner to monitor activity on a diverse and extensive sensor grid. One which remained inactive for what seemed like a concerning amount of time. It was choking with the amount of mental strain this silence caused. In all but a single nanosecond, the display shifted to show the sensor grid flaring alarming all about as a literal supernova worth of activity just spawned… instantaneously, lights flared and sensors went awry with panic. The sensor display on the left showed the size of the active Fulkari fleet compared to that of the enemy that just materialized in the system. And the difference was that of night and day. The Fulkari defenders all but a single atom to the cell of power that was the black fleet. It didn’t matter that those black ships seemed unshielded, the sheer amount of them was more than enough to overpower the Fulkari.
The camera gave all the more unease, as instantly, light from distant stars appeared almost snuffed from reality as the mass of forces blotted any room for light to weave through. Faint lights were visible, which conveyed a sense of primal hatred. Hatred with seared through space like hawking radiation from all but the smallest of singularities. This was only then followed by battle footage, of the enemy forces punched through the stationed defensive craft with beams of terrible firepower. Invisible powers that caused massive explosions upon the defending craft, grilling anyone unfortunate enough to not immediately die. All but a second later was all that it took for the camera to finally be struck, the station that it was attached to likely receiving critical damage. Footage only received by the crews working hastily to escape with all the data they could.
That was all that was recovered from the military craft, all we had as to the source of the Black fleet. A clue with no trail, a lead with no start… but despite the mysterious air to the whole situation, the source of this attack was as obvious as the light of day. With the chairwoman speaking up, the silence was much less heavy than a few seconds before.
“This recording received from one of the surviving members of the planetary Garrison was nowhere near enough to receive a definitive claim on who assaulted the Fulkari territories. As the ships which by all accounts seem to be AI automated, are unheard of in our collective spaces but the most likely theory is what we all suspect. My fellow sapients, such technology is foreign to us, outside of GA jurisdiction and influence. No force could be built within our space without our noticing, and such technology to simply appear in a fixed point in space exists in our collective. There’s only one source we can possibly theorize is the source of this attack. Until any further evidence is presented in spite of the assumption, it’s very much likely that The Foretold Survived… And have bided their time building up these mechanical forces.
“Such a theory, whilst unfounded, is terrifying to reminisce on, especially considering the implications. They were already dangerous without their hostilities to the GA… now more than ever we face a threat of an even greater magnitude. One that is to meet in full force… As such, we of the high council call upon the members of the GA to begin preparations to re-enter wartime production and prepare for total War. Now more than ever we must be ready, for time is no longer on our side.”
It certainly wasn’t…
…
I can’t help but think of how this is a fate that we’ve inflicted upon ourselves… do we really deserve this?
Maybe…
submitted by Obesity-Won-Kenobi to humansarespaceorcs [link] [comments]
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Notice: This story is about to humanity, but they are introduced much later into the narrative.
----------------------------------------------------------
Prev: Chains of the Veiled (3/?) :
Next:
First: Chains of The Veiled :
----------------------------------------------------------
Station 68 was one of necessity, built along with many others to remain active in the case it was needed during any sort of instance of Civilian Hardship. This was a place built for those with no path to rest and wait to walk a new one, and as such had many government-funded commodities to those that sought refuge here. Many found shelter here, homeless through any situation, from financial ruin to wartime refugees. They were civilian projects, for those who could not care for themselves, for those to rest and rely on until they could regain a foothold in reality. To regain control financially and socially.
This was not just free housing however, there are certain conditions that need to be met in order for your stay here to be acceptable. This wasn’t a service meant to be abused, it was for the homeless and poor alike, and those who needed it only... As such, the amenities provided weren’t stellar in any regards. There were recreational activities and freely distributed foods, but it was minimal and decent at best. It was free though, and beggars aren’t in a position to choose what kind of help they get. It’s enough to get reassurance that you don't need to worry about next meals. There was one thing about this place that was rather disappointing though… As Kazzi was currently complaining about in the seat across from me in the larger corner booth.
“Why pay for drinks?! Everything else here is free! Sure, it’s cheaper than anywhere else, but still! It just seems inconsistent with how everything else is here.” she spoke in a fit as she took another swig of alcohol. I could only sigh in a disappointed manner, finding Kazzi’s current behavior both unacceptable, and out of character. I knew that she was supposedly a party animal from what others in the department would suggest, but not to such a degree as to already be at her second bottle halfway into the evening.
After a second of regaining my barrings, I looked back up at the Fulkari woman to respond, “Well, drinking isn’t considered something that should be encouraged Kazzi. It’s an incentive to seek other means of coping with struggle, even if it’s as cheap as it is. It’s also more of a luxury on a station with barely any to give. The fact it’s as cheap as this despite its surprising quality really doesn’t seem to have the effect though. It seems like everyone that was on the yacht who escaped with us is also taking advantage of this feature.” It wasn’t a lie either, I say many others entered before and after us. All grabbing what they could, drawing the bartenders with requests as they wished to drown away problems.
Hopefully those staff got paid aplenty for dealing with shit like this. Some people were less than savory after having to deal with a mechanical extermination that removed them from their very way of life. Everyone and their mothers wanted something to down to distract from the trauma that flooded everyone’s mind, and I was no exception. With a glass of Vlekvir branded Whiskey, I took a long swig, downing a good portion of the bottle. Kazzi seemed to cheek me on somewhat, as she seemed to chuckle at my prolonged chugging. I simply rolled my eyes to Kazzi’s antics and continued to eat my meals. I made sure to drink enough water to not end up a complete Drunk, knowing that I was going to need to direct Kazzi back to the ship considering her tipsy state.
Why is it that I always have to hinder my fun just so this Fulkari doesn’t kill herself in the aftermath of her own?! It’s a serious issue that I refuse to tolerate any longer. Regardless of the current favor Kazzi had in this game of life, the tables would soon turn after I would help her back to the ship. Kazzi would owe me a favor for this, and that was something I intended to make good use of.
“Excuse me?” I heard, jumping at the suddenness of the question, spoke so close. I looked around frantically in response to being so startled, only to look down and find a small entity. A Kraviska, an insectoid species known for rapid repopulation with their method of reproduction being unique compared to most others. As long as they had a type of Queen to their hive, and enough meat and yeast to feed them, then they'd never run out of larvae. Her blue chitinous exoskeleton glistened in the light, and her four compound eyes bore an unease into my gaze. Her two claw-like pincers clicked as she spoke.
I took a moment to recollect myself from the scare, with Kazzi all but laughing at me in her tipsy state. I scoffed at her tease and looked back down at the Kraviska. “How did I not hear you walk over to us?” I asked her, and her antenna seemed to flicker up and down in her species form of embarrassment. For what I could only assume was the scare. She held herself low, keeping her tray of food close to her as she stuttered to respond. “I-I’m sorry,” She spoke. “It’s just something that I end up doing… I’m not trying to sneak about like I do, it just happens. I don’t understand why or how, but I make silent movements.”
“Is that a Kraviska thing, or just something that you do because…” I asked, leaving the question incomplete, waiting for a response. She looked to the side for all but a moment, antenna continuing to wiggle in embarrassment. “It’s something that I myself do, not my species. I’m sorry, I really am.” Seeing her hiding her face with her tray the way she was, I sighed and opted out of any further confrontation. “It’s fine, You just startled me is all… sorry for coming off as so hostile.” I said with a nod, a gesture meant to convey that I meant no escalation of conflict.
She seemed to ease up with this reassurance that I provided and lowered her tray from her face. Her face reverted back to her general curiosity that she initially spoke with. “I’m sorry for the scare. But… you see, the whole establishment is packed with patrons. My significant other and I can’t find a seat anywhere else. You’re in one of the larger booths, so I was wondering if maybe we could squeeze in? I-If you’d be willing, that is…” The Kriviska spoke in a meager tone, trying her best to be as polite as possible. I was honestly surprised to find such an non-confrontational member of her species, considering how prideful some of the supposed hive queens could be.
I nodded and responded in affirmation of the request, “Of course, there’s plenty of space for you and whoever else. Kazzi, could you move in a bit?” The tipsy fulkari huffed in annoyance as she scooted aside for whoever might need a seat. I gave her a glare, and one that seemed to have the expected effect. Being a hardened navy man, she was quick to correct her attitude when she saw me. As for the Insectoid, she nodded her head and went over to speak with…
A… A T’ccoj?! T’ccoj were silicon-based lifeforms that were essentially just massive electrical golems. Electrical signals capable of transmitting all about a metal interior which functioned as neurons in a brain in biological life. These electrical signals are so powerful that it allows them a limited ability to manipulate broad and wide bipedal legs they possess to move. They weren’t able to last long however, only able to live for a few hours after being struck with lightning. Only when they were discovered and provided robotic arms to manipulate tools, and battery packs to increase their menial lifespans, were they able to build up cities and civilization proper. T’ccoj were known for they’re adept learning and utilized in a plethora of roles. This T’ccoj in particular was large compared to most others, easily reaching my height, and my kind were one of the taller species.
When the insectoid walked over with the Living mineral, I found myself nervous and confused. Silicon life was always something that I was antsy around, I wasn’t sure why. It was just a great unease to speak with what was essentially a rock… It would be best to not call it that. I’m pretty sure that’s a racist term for lithoid life to refer to them as rocks.
The Kriviska hopped up into the seating and used her multi jointed legs to scutter across the cushions to the corner. She sat close to Kazzi and gestured to her silicon companion to take a seat just by her. Getting a better look at the T’ccoj, I saw the makeup of the living mineral. Its body was divided between crystalline orange and rocky brown textures. A battery pack along the back of its body, and powerful hydraulic based robotic arms allowing for heavy lifting. They were similar in color and texture to the T’ccoj’s natural body and moved in blocky and stiff manners like that of the Lithoid. It moved to sit downright next to the Insectoid…
What did the Kriviska refer to this entity as?! A significant other?!
“Allow me to introduce ourselves.” She spoke, regaining my direct attention. Whilst she did have my focus, my gaze was still trained on the T’ccoj, trying to get a better understanding of who I was dealing with here. “My name is Zikee, and this is Bocc… my husband.” Whilst I did my best to keep my shock as internal as I could. I found it baffling to see an insectoid like her with a lithoid like this. There was such a divide between compatibility, that I found it strange to be a witness of. Despite my ability to maintain composure, my Fulkari associate wasn’t so like me in the current state she found herself in. Being so tipsy caused her to nearly shout out in raw shock at the fact. As she spoke, it was slurred and unfiltered due to the unnerving amounts of alcohol in her system.
“You married a Lithoid? As a small and fragile Kriviska?! Wouldn’t that lead to some very dangerous situations, like being crushed by the big guy's weight?” I turned to glare at Kazzi, trying to shut her up from this drinking sprawl she seemed to invite with her comment. My glare didn’t have so much of the same effect as before. She seemed to have a bit more resistance to my influence due to the increased effect of her alcohol intake. I should have stopped her sooner, but decided against it since Kazzi needed some relief after the attack. I was beginning to regret that decision even more than before…
Zikee seemed to sigh an annoyed sigh, likely having this conversation many times before. “No… it doesn’t. We Kriviska’s don’t have as fragile exoskeletons as theories believe. Our kind developed in a high gravity world after all! I could bench press Bocc on certain low gravity worlds. Admittedly there are very few where that could happen, but they do exist! Not to mention that I love Bocc, they’re a joy to have around. A shy and gentle giant who’s all but the most tender with little ones. They’re my husband because I love them for who they are. They’re a loving soul despite the hardened exterior they have.” She turned to look at Bocc as she spoke, looking at them with a sense of compassion and devotion that I considered rare to see.
Bocc had a vocalizer attachment, one which allowed them to speak to others freely. Using the electrical signals in their rock brain to operate the machine and speak as needed. “My goal is to be the best I can be… For her. She deserves as much for all she does for me.” He said in a heartfelt tone of conviction. One which caused the Kriviska to turn her head in embarrassment. “Oh stop it you.” She teased, waving one of her arms at him in a dismissive manner, chuckling all the while.
“Seems like you two are really close and trust each other. Can I ask how you two met?” I asked, wanting to know the story to these two. It’s not every day that I find such an interesting duo like the one before me. Bocc seemed to respond on their behalf, “We met years ago when we fell on hard times. We met at a restaurant where I was working, and she was eating at the time. I decided to strike up a conversation after work and it ended up leading me to ask her out. We had our ups and downs, but we pushed through because of the understanding we share. Not to mention, despite our incompatibility in terms of physical appearances, we were never concerned with. We cared about each other because of who we were, not because of any other desires. We wanted to be with one another, because… We just love each other.”
… I was surprised to find such an outlandish couple to be one of the most wholesome I’ve ever seen. “But what about-” Kazzi began to ask before I shut her lips myself with my claws. Kazzi was about to ask something vulgar, and I refused to let her alcohol-ridden system ruin something so pure. The adoration in Zikee’s compound eyes was evident to the devotion she had for Bocc. “As long as we have each other, we’re complete. No matter what else we lose…”
Zikee’s comment left open many interpretations to be made, as the last part was spoken solemnly. As such, it led me to ask the question, “You were part of the evacuation of Fojhiam too, right?”
The two froze up for a moment, before turning back to me. They laid still and motionless as the thick air was left to permeate the surroundings of our booth. From their silence, a thousand words were spoken. It was clear that these two were very much victims like us, victims of tragedy and loss. As hundreds of billions of people lost connection with the wider galaxy. The whole event is almost taboo to speak on, despite us being witness to it. The two of them seemed hesitant to speak up, not wanting to confirm anything right yet. Despite the heavy air, and the stoic expressions they tried to wear, I could feel the heavy emotion radiate from them both. I was going to say something, but Bocc spoke first, their mechanical voice a product of the machine they spoke through.
“We were able to escape on a Jasvikan Superyacht. It was luck that was on our side for such a wealthy individual to permit us entry without leaving. I guess there are good people no matter the walk of life they take.” Bocc said, giving a general idea of his opinion of wealthy individuals. But what my attention gravitated to during their whole exposition was the ship they escaped on… the one that-.
“Oh, you escaped on my ship!” Kazzi spoke up, saying the statement with a drunken burp. I swear this Fulkari is going to be the death of me. The two were shocked at the idea, sitting before the owner of the ship that led them to safety. Zikee was completely stunned by the claim and stuttered to respond. “Y-You’re telling me… T-That you’re the owner of the Jaskivan yacht?! That’s insane! You must enjoy browsing the exotic side of the market! Regardless of the ship itself, you have no idea how grateful I am for you saving us!” She scuttered over to Kazzi to go about shaking her hand and conveying appreciation. The Fulkari woman was able to at bare minimum reply with equal appreciation, even if her words were slurred.
It was amusing to see, but turning to Bocc on the other side gave a completely different look. Something that seemed like a crack in the sort of shy and stoic personality which Zikee advertised. Their tone was one of barely contained anger, shrouded in annoyance. “So… were you the one that flew the ship? Or was it someone else?” Why he was asking that made me unnerved and concerned for my safety. I was the one who piloted the ship and did so in a way which tossed a few folks around, despite the prime conditions of the gravity generators. Was Bocc tossed about, and bitter about the condition that I inflicted upon him with my flying?
Kazzi was dismissive of the claim made by the T’ccoj, which caused the attention of the lithoid to shift onto me. T’ccoj’s didn’t have any sort of face, let alone a head. Despite this inability to convey emotion in a traditional manner, I could see in the way the Bocc composed himself that they were ticked off over something. “Was it you then?” They asked me, with a glare despite not having eyes. It terrified me to answer truthfully, because I was the helm throughout that whole escape. I was once a military man, serviced upon a warship during the outbreak of the GA-Foretold War. Even during the days of service, a loose cannon was the best way to describe my performance at the helm. For better or for worse, I was one to fly in a manner that could only contribute to great insanity.
Flying which seemed to be a major tick in the metaphysical eyes of the T’ccoj before me. I twiddled my claws as I struggled to respond. However, my reaction was enough to provide more than enough evidence to my role during the escape. Evidence which was swiftly examined by the Lithoid, and which attributed to the T’ccoj slamming the robotic appendages they possessed onto the table in aggression. They stood in place as they brought a claw to point directly at my face as they spoke in a tone which clearly cited their annoyance. “Do you have any sort of awareness of how your flying strains the reactor?! I was needing to evacuate the powerplant because of the dangerous conditions that the reactor was reaching with the overclocking that you set upon the suffering machine! Yes, you got us out of that nightmare, but you in turn caused me to experience one in turn! Do you have any idea of how devastating it is as a reactor technician to watch such a tremendously important machine be abused by such reckless flying?!”
Kazzi and Zikee both exchanged glances as they coward away from the seething lithoid, Bocc was creating a bit of a scene with the passion behind their anger. I was able to piece together the story in my mind relatively quickly. Bocc was without doubt the one on the other end of the call that I had during the evacuation. Calling the power plant to prepare for the overclock when I did. It makes much more sense now, considering my actions did cause major stress upon the Prestigious Vow’s framework. I began to speak in a last ditch effort to explain myself to the T’ccoj.
“Bocc, please understand that anything less than the extremes that I was pushing upon the ship wouldn’t have gotten us through the warp gate the way we did. I did what I needed to in order to prevent any contact with enemy missiles, and pass through the warp gate through the collapse. I’m sorry for the stress I put on the ship, but there wouldn’t be a ship if I did anything less.” I stated, causing the T’ccoj to flinch for a moment. I could tell from the way Bocc held itself that they understood that I was right. Despite agreeing with me, they shivered in aggravated annoyance with me for my reckless piloting.
The Lithoid grunted and begrudgingly slumped back into their seat. They held their hands up to the peak of their torso, like how one would palm their face with their hands. Despite not having a head, it was clear whatever was in its place for Bocc was hung low. A great disdain was ever present, but one whose initial prominence was substituted with a current sulking. “That poor reactor…” I heard muffled by the T’ccoj as they struggled to cope with the damage to the machine. I could tell without doubt that this reactor technician took their position very seriously, almost viewing the reactor system as an extension of themselves.
Zikee seemed to scutter to her lithoid partner and rest a claw upon their shoulder, giving them comfort as they seemed to wallow in misery at the condition of the ship. I won’t lie, whilst it got out of the evacuation the least banged up, that meant very little considering all the other ships. Some of those husks shouldn’t have been flying, but they hung within the drydocks of the station, waiting to either be taken to repair yards or scrap yards alike. Most couldn’t afford to repair them like Kazzi, as such I anticipated many of them to be scrapped. That was probably something that ached the lithoid.
“You seem to have a great love and reverence for these kinds of things. Technology is something that you adore isn’t it?” I asked, garnering the attention of the T’ccoj. “Indeed so,” Bocc replied not soon after. “It’s technology that has allowed my people to become a true civilization. To be able to survive for more than a few simple fleeting hours. We exist as a testament to the wonders that such technology provides, as such I feel indebted to the machines that encompass the everyday lives of those loyal to the Assembly. I want to one day understand every modern technological marvel, to one day become more than a reactor technician and become a true inventor.”
I felt a sense of warmth at the rather pure dream, and huffed in amusement before properly speaking. “Your passion for this goal will attest to it coming to reality. I wish you well in achieving it.” The lithoid seemed to appreciate my words of affirmation, and shifted to a much less stiff composure. Bocc sighed synthetically through their vocalizer, before looking back at me to respond. “Thank you for such supporting words Kovvak. I’m… I’m sorry for speaking the way I did. Even though it was a personal reason, it was still unacceptable for me to speak so brashly.”
“That’s quite alright,” I added. “We can all lose sight of what’s important when clouded by heavy emotion. I’m sorry for the reckless flying, but at least you’re here to curse me for it now rather than being cursed to walk through the next life alone, right?” The Lithoid only chuckled at my words. “You are most correct. Maybe I gave you too little credit before… I’m glad to be shown otherwise now.”
“I have that effect on people.” I speak in a joking manner, one which warrants a laugh from Zikee and Bocc. Kazzi said nothing, blacking out rather easily after the alcohol in her system finally took control. I could only sigh at the Fulkari woman… She’s going to really need my help handling such a prominent hangover once all is said and done-
“Everyone listen,” I hear someone speak up from the bar. Causing my train of thought to shift tracks towards the source of the commotion. I wasn’t the only one to have their gaze pulled to this new source, Zikee and Bocc also did the same. The Kraviska hoisting herself to look over the back of the seat towards the bar, and the T’ccoj having their robotic eye lift up without having to move themselves. Kazzi is still blackout drunk from all the alcoholic influence she was subjected to at the moment.
What was a simple conversation between strangers turned into a strange situation as the bartender moved their appendage to show a remote, one with had their eyes fully trained on as they poked away at numerous buttons. The remote was one for the televisions, as they shifted to switch to CCNN, the Core Central News Network. The tv volumes also increased to ensure that this was the main attention grabber in the room. Whilst that was the case, I also looked outside to find that many of the overhead televisions and other such devices were being changed to shift to what seemed like breaking news. The CCNN showed their host news anchor speaking on the GA council head. The representatives of each of the Elder species of the entire organization were present. Each one standing before a podium being recorded by the camera which was transmitting across all channels. This was a PSA, a majorly important PSA given the presence of such important people being presented.
Already I knew well what this was about. After all, practically everyone here in the establishment was a victim of the tragedy. Majority on the station were all there on Fojhiam as it fell. Not everyone in the universe knew however. There were still many worlds in the GA, among outreaches that took around a full day of travel to achieve. The GA would only ever make announcements like this under certain conditions and never anything less.
All instances pertaining to massively influential events. Almost all of them are related to disasters…
The woman who stood in the middle podium was tall and lanky. A Svenoiraq, one of the eight founding species, and chairwoman of the galactic assembly’s council chambers. With three long and spindly fingers holding down firmly at the edges of the podium, her pale white skin glistened against the fabric backdrop of the set. A long neck and pale flat face, adorned with four binocular eyes and a vertical mouth. Chairman Ryu was the most powerful in the GA, and her presence at the PSA conference was no mistake.
“My fellow sapients”, she spoke in a calculated manner, with little emotion in her voice. Her eyes glazed over with an almost lifeless expression, magnified only by her monotone voice. “18 hours, 56 minutes, and fourteen seconds ago, we of the GA high command received an alert regarding unregistered fleet activity in the Fulkari home system. An unknown fleet of an origin that is both mysterious and obvious all the same. Before you, shall be shown what little footage we managed to recover from one of the military vessels that escaped the carnage. I beg you to avert the eyes of your children.”
A Holographic display formed behind the Elders, one that provided the perspective of a ship camera. Raw and unedited footage based on the condition of the camera. A small display was provided in the corner to monitor activity on a diverse and extensive sensor grid. One which remained inactive for what seemed like a concerning amount of time. It was choking with the amount of mental strain this silence caused. In all but a single nanosecond, the display shifted to show the sensor grid flaring alarming all about as a literal supernova worth of activity just spawned… instantaneously, lights flared and sensors went awry with panic. The sensor display on the left showed the size of the active Fulkari fleet compared to that of the enemy that just materialized in the system. And the difference was that of night and day. The Fulkari defenders all but a single atom to the cell of power that was the black fleet. It didn’t matter that those black ships seemed unshielded, the sheer amount of them was more than enough to overpower the Fulkari.
The camera gave all the more unease, as instantly, light from distant stars appeared almost snuffed from reality as the mass of forces blotted any room for light to weave through. Faint lights were visible, which conveyed a sense of primal hatred. Hatred with seared through space like hawking radiation from all but the smallest of singularities. This was only then followed by battle footage, of the enemy forces punched through the stationed defensive craft with beams of terrible firepower. Invisible powers that caused massive explosions upon the defending craft, grilling anyone unfortunate enough to not immediately die. All but a second later was all that it took for the camera to finally be struck, the station that it was attached to likely receiving critical damage. Footage only received by the crews working hastily to escape with all the data they could.
That was all that was recovered from the military craft, all we had as to the source of the Black fleet. A clue with no trail, a lead with no start… but despite the mysterious air to the whole situation, the source of this attack was as obvious as the light of day. With the chairwoman speaking up, the silence was much less heavy than a few seconds before.
“This recording received from one of the surviving members of the planetary Garrison was nowhere near enough to receive a definitive claim on who assaulted the Fulkari territories. As the ships which by all accounts seem to be AI automated, are unheard of in our collective spaces but the most likely theory is what we all suspect. My fellow sapients, such technology is foreign to us, outside of GA jurisdiction and influence. No force could be built within our space without our noticing, and such technology to simply appear in a fixed point in space exists in our collective. There’s only one source we can possibly theorize is the source of this attack. Until any further evidence is presented in spite of the assumption, it’s very much likely that The Foretold Survived… And have bided their time building up these mechanical forces.
“Such a theory, whilst unfounded, is terrifying to reminisce on, especially considering the implications. They were already dangerous without their hostilities to the GA… now more than ever we face a threat of an even greater magnitude. One that is to meet in full force… As such, we of the high council call upon the members of the GA to begin preparations to re-enter wartime production and prepare for total War. Now more than ever we must be ready, for time is no longer on our side.”
It certainly wasn’t…
…
I can’t help but think of how this is a fate that we’ve inflicted upon ourselves… do we really deserve this?
Maybe…