Guy chops off his own balls
Survivor Circlejerk
2014.04.03 22:15 Survivor Circlejerk
Welcome to the GOAT Survivor anything-ever-created, and the Survivor, /Survivor, and Survivor Fandom Satire Subreddit. Wannabe pariahs but ultimately paragons: Thank you for giving us your leisure time. Shitty fake beach RP encouraged. Please walk the shore to the left and find a pee cave that has not yet been claimed to serve as your new home. Slop will be served for breakfast, lunch, and dinner (I know a guy, who knows a guy, who knows a guy). Almost anything "Mildly Survivor Related"® goes.
2008.09.11 15:17 Surfing
Kooks on the internet
2015.05.19 16:08 mlowery2 Curt's New Hat
Have you heard?
2024.05.06 04:26 AlecPEnnis Dark Star
This is a short story about terrible people.
--
You’d think they’d keep the atmospherics comfortable for the colonists if we’re so goddamned important. But here I am freezing the hairs off my taint in the hallway. The sweat didn’t help. Neither did my lack of clothes. “Can you at least give me back my-” My arms flew up to shield my face from the shotgun blast—left sock, right sock, shirt, wrist pad, pants. At least the pellets were soft. I let my arms down too early and learned that my shoe wasn’t. I should have cut my losses there. “What about the oth-” The second shoe flew into my nose and plopped soundlessly on the floor, cushioned by the pile of fabric. Clara affixed me with a grimaced glare. With one hand tight on the bed sheets shielding her from me, she grabbed the door with her other and slammed it shut. A final vestige of warm perfume wafted over me before it all blended into the cold sterility of the hallway. I suppressed a sneeze. I dressed quickly. The smart fabric began to readjust to my size and wick away the moisture. My wrist pad would take longer; it had been roughly treated beneath Clara’s weight, then mine, then both of ours. I walked alone back to my quarters. My steps echoed. I curled my feet so I didn’t make a sound. The last thing I needed was the feeling of being followed. Until I heard another set of footsteps coming towards me and realized that was worse. “Lanny? You alright?” Rhoden asked, looking me up and down. “Fine. Rhodey,” I said. I regretted my tone there. That was unnecessarily terse. But it did the job; Rhoden kept walking without engaging further. He was a good sport. He usually was. And he certainly didn’t need to know our business to keep beat on the skins. I made it to my quarters without being accosted further by company. I stripped, put in a couple minutes in the ultrasonic shower, then bought the farm for the night. We had a big day tomorrow. -- 4113 A.D. Summer, Night “You see that up there?” “I see it.” “It’s the biggest one yet.” “Yes it is.” “And they asked us! The Dysfunctional Xesperados! We’re finally going places. Didn’t I tell you?” “I’m really proud of you, Lanny.” The corners of her mouth curled like a leaf in the breeze. She wasn’t looking at the starlight. She was looking through the night, straight into my eyes. -- “What’s with the get-up?” Bronson said lazily. “It’s the atmospherics,” I said. “I don’t know why they have it so low. And ‘get-up’? It’s a sweater.” The door to the auditorium hissed open. Clara walked through, yawning. Bronson immediately turned, suddenly alive. I tried not to make a face. I wished he made it less obvious. Luckily Clara didn’t notice. She never did. “Hey, guys. Lanny, you look like shit,” Clara said. I wanted to clap back, but looking at her face I saw that she must have been joking. It was such a Clara thing to say. She must be back to normal. I took a breath. “Good morning to you t-” A clatter behind us brought a jolt to my shoulders. “Sorry,” Rhoden said sheepishly. He rushed to set up the kit again. Bronson rolled his eyes. Clara made an exasperated noise. I sighed and came over to help him. Bronson brought his hands together in a singular, rousing clap. “Alright, let’s hope the rest of the morning goes better than this,” he said. He slung his multicordion over his tall frame. Long fingers flipped the knobs and levers, adjusting the frequencies in the hundreds of filters inside. Analog current coursed through the instrument. Pure electronic audio came out. Bronson deftly tuned the machine until it sounded just right. It could’ve all been automatic, but that wasn’t our way. It’s what made us different. Rhoden finished erecting the kit and began his warm-up. He was mellifluous, precise, but not mechanically dull. His rhythm had soul that procedural generation just couldn’t match. Clara took up her guitar—the Siamese Seraphim—and brought it to life. Six strings, two necks, all under her control, like all things that held her fickle passion. Then there was me. I was to the front and right of Rhoden. Bronson to one side, Clara to the left. I swept the stand off the ground, raising it until the amplifier ring floated three inches from my lips. Cold air poured into my chest. It takes a second to build. Then I breathed fire, Rhoden swung down—the twin oaken tapers drawing executioner’s swings onto skin and brass, Bronson’s multicordion growled in half a dozen voices, and the Seraphims sang in their immolation. We played until there was nothing left, until everything went black. -- 4113 A.D. Summer, Night “They’re loading it up,” I said. I pointed at the sky. That was where I wanted her to look. It was dark except for the twinkling stars. One was brighter than most. It was moving ever so slightly. “It’s beautiful,” the new Aoede said. “Watch.” A black hand curled around the star. The night returned. The crickets had our audience once again. “The next one’s in a week,” I said. “How many more?” “I don’t know? We’re going pretty far. Four whole light-years. We’d need a lot of fuel.” “A long way away.” “Yeah.” “Are you happy?” “I don’t know. Are you?” “If you are.” -- We put away our instruments. I indulged and took a water shower. Today had been a good day. If our conditioning goes well for the next couple of weeks we’d… play in front of a million faces. I see them chant. Our lyrics sing back at us with amplified fervor. Then at the end I leap off the stage into a hundred arms like a centipede on its back. It had been a long time since I had this fantasy. Maybe the change of environment was exactly what I needed. The farther we moved from the Erde-Luna suprapolitan volume the clearer my head was. “Welp, I don’t have any plans after practice. You guys want to watch them load the last cell?” Rhoden said. “The whole System saw them load the last dozen,” Bronson said, rolling his eyes. I almost sided with Bronson. It was a stupid idea. Why on Erde would I want to see the same tedious process for the umpteenth time? It would bore me to tears. It made my stomach hurt. “Sure,” I said. “Why?” Bronson asked. “It’s the last sunset we’ll get for a long time,” I said. Bronson waved the idea off. “I wouldn’t mind,” Clara said. “Hell yeah!” Rhoden said. “The gang altogether. Oh, I have some dark glasses.” The observation deck was almost empty when we arrived. Mostly couples or triples sat in the seats. There was the occasional loner. I took a spot standing right by the photonic screen. The curved surface refracted the exterior of the ELV Phaedo right into the ship—as tall as taiga pines. A snapshot of the sky. A different one than what I was used to. This one was populated by a jovial god. We were close enough to see its faint rings. Some were always there. Others, man had put there. You could tell quite easily. Ours were canted at odd angles and dipped into the wood-grain atmosphere like sipping straws. Ours conducted pulses of light circumnavigating the planet in seconds. They were glowing brighter and brighter. I slipped the glasses on. The pulses converged on an object the size of a grain of sand on the screen. The rings went cold. Perspective made the convergence station look small. It was actually a city all on its own. There was a million staff onboard along with their families, just to name a few of the people that lived there. Poetically, they were called the Lapidarists, and their work was finished for now. I watched the gem leave the station, leaking from the moment it was born. In many ways it was just like a real star; it looked bright, it was hot too, and would grow hotter as time went on. Then it would disappear in one ostentatious finale—in cosmic terms—in the blink of an eye. “This is the hottest black hole they’ll load,” Rhoden was saying somewhere behind me. I was half-listening—more than what could be said for the others. “And the most ephemeral. Little over three hundred year lifespan. Six hundred thousand metric tons.” We were quite far away. But I thought I could feel the gem’s light on my skin, the taste of sea salt on my lips, the scent of sand on my nose. The past was staring at me while I was lingering at the present. I remembered the sun dipping below the horizon, the oranges fading into blues as reflective hands closed around the gem. I remembered when the water swallowed the light and I couldn’t see her face anymore as the gem disappeared, encapsulated, ready to be transported into the Phaedo’s hull. What face was she making when she had said that to me? “Go out there. Go do your thing.” “I’m sorry,” Clara said. I snapped out of it. She was standing next to me. I felt like I was noticing her for the first time today. She wore a sweater which hung over one shoulder, revealing black straps on dark daffodil skin. She had done her hair fully. Sometimes she let it blossom into messy curls. Sometimes she forced them straight. Sometimes she colored them a myriad of colors both in the visible and invisible spectrums. Today she had them done the way they had been on the day we met, back when I could barely sing and she struggled with a hand-me-down five-string. “Sorry for what?” I asked. “I keep doing this. I let you in, then I kick you out. I just can’t help it when I- when you say those things and you…” “Agree to disagree?” “It’s just that I believe so hard, and it makes so much sense. I can’t understand why you don’t.” “People are different.” “I know. I just- I don’t want this to get between us.” “It won’t.” “I just need to avoid talking System affairs with you.” “Please do.” Her face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing. I was agreeing with you on this.” “On what? The idea that I’m a windbag? You’re saying I should just shut up.” “I didn’t mean that.” “Yes you did. You’re so- how can you sing so well and be so dark on the inside? Like you don’t care about people at all?” I felt one of my incisors on my lip. “Clara, on the years that you bother to, we both have the same number of votes.” To be honest, I knew I shouldn’t have said that even as the words were forming in my head. I did anyway. Clara didn’t make a face. She simply shook a little. Then she walked away. She didn’t even hit me—that was the worst sign. I took a deep breath and resolved to take care of it later. For now, at least I had a moment to myself. That didn’t last. “What did you say to her?” “Fuck off, Bronson,” I said. “Tell me.” Ignoring him was usually a bad idea. I didn’t say anything. A hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me away from the screen. Bronson pushed me against the photonics. The pixels glitched as my weight pressed against them. “Why do you do this?” He said. “All the fucking time I see her walk away from you like this. And all the fucking time I see her go back to you. What is wrong with you?” “That’s not what you want to ask.” “What would that be?” He said, baring his teeth. “What you really want to ask is, ‘why isn’t she inviting me, when I would agree with anything she says?’” I braced my foot so when he hit me I stayed upright. I thought there’d be a second one. Instead, he walked away too. I swallowed the copper taste and returned to my screen. “This is so cool.” “Yes, Rhoden?” I asked. He had a window popped up in front of him. He must have been immersed this whole time. “The encapsulation is done with a swirling ball of plasma wrapped around by a quasiparticle layer of electron gas. It’s like a spherical mirror, just like the sun’s insides, keeping the cell’s radiation contained. When they need energy, they just open up a part of it and let some light out.” “That is very cool, Rhoden.” “Kind of makes me wish I had gone into singularity engineering instead of drumming. And uh, hey your lip…” “Just dry, is all.” “Man, the ship’s atmospherics really doesn’t agree with you huh?” “Oh well,” I said. -- 4112 A.D. Winter “How long? How long has this been going on?” “A while.” “How. Long.” “Before us. Oh-eight.” “Four fucking years ago?!” “I’m sorry.” “Why did you even bother with me?” Because you had something that mattered, that would last. “You matter more.” “Is that why you’re leaving and going with her?” “That’s not what’s happening. I’m going with the group. You can’t just bring people to a colony, you have to bring-” “Culture. Like you ever gave a shit. You didn’t even care about yourself before me.” “I’m sorry.” “You’re not.” Tears. Ugly. Sharp. Painful. “You don’t know how to be.” -- I imagined a hundred thousand of us stuck in the same assemblage of tubes, trusses, and centrifuges, hurtling between the stars. A mushroom cap layer of ice at the front of this wireframe kite absorbed the hard sleet of interstellar radiation. The unforgiving calculus of this kind of travel forced the Phaedo—the biggest ship ever built—to be light. The armor between us delicate flesh pockets and vacuum might as well be foil. I had to remind myself the heaviest things onboard weren’t the singularity cores. It was the million more freeze-dried humans packed away, waiting to be rehydrated in a few years; those were the real burden. So that was how long we had to practice, to train, so we’re worthy of being a part of what they’re already calling the Proximan culture. An honor, truly. Bronson and I didn’t talk for a few days. We exchanged one or two phrases during practice—no more than necessary. ‘Was I in tune?’ ‘Did that sound right?’ I knew he wasn’t really angry. He needed to put in the motions of defending her. He wouldn’t tell her this of course. Clara needed to be the one that noticed he was the one who really cared. Then finally, finally!—it would all be worth it, this performance. One long peacock’s display. “What are you thinking about?” Clara asked softly, drawing circles on my chest. She was a warm weight on top of my arm, light enough to float, heavy enough to pin me down. “About the past,” I said. “About where we came from.” “Mmhm?” “And where we’ll end up.” “In history,” she said. That was our plan: to be one of the greats in a branch-off of human civilization away from the storied past of music in our Solar System. To make footfall on a new, difficult road. But that wasn’t what I saw when they announced the Phaedo’s construction. The forty-second fucking century: when originality was meaningless, when soul could be replicated, when analog was just hipster. The Dysfunctional Xesperados had no real fanbase. Listeners could compress every album we made into a neural payload. One shot and synapses exploded into existence. These things could even simulate passed time, so listeners could feel as though they just spent several hours getting something out of our music, when it was actually three minutes on a chilled bed. Real-time was a waste of time. Not on Proxima Centauri. We’d start over there. Analog humans in an analog, low-tech world. Where they’d have no choice but to listen and to love us. That was what I saw. So now that we were on the road, why did I want to sprint back to my room and hurl and spend an hour under running water tucked away in the corner of the stall? I supposed it didn’t matter. This time there’d be no Aoede to pull me out. I would never see her again. “I’d better go,” I said. “But I haven’t-” “Better this way. Before…” “Before what?” “Before we start talking.” She seemed torn, like she wanted to recoil but knew letting me go would also give me what I asked for. I didn’t push her out of the way. Never had to before. I usually left when she fell asleep; she had never complained about waking up alone. Other times we would talk, leading to predictable results. Now we weren’t talking, she wasn’t asleep, and I wanted to leave. “I should go back to my room,” I said. “Practice at seven.” “You can sleep here.” “I never do.” “You can start.” “Why?” “Why not?” “It’s just not what we do.” “Why. Not.” “I-” “We do everything else! Except this- this one thing!” What thing? I couldn’t say. I decided to move, just a little bit. Clara pinned me down. I wondered what face she was making. We had never been here before—not even close. I didn’t know what this feeling was. “Let me go, Clara,” someone said in my voice. “Why?” It was more sob than speech. She bore over me, a heavy, hot shadow of sickly perfume. “Let me go.” “No.” My hands closed around her wrists and I gently moved her aside. Then I walked out, half-dressed, not fully dry, leaving behind the soft sounds of choked gasping. The door hissed shut, silencing it. The sterile air buried our scents. It was all gone. “Lanny? How’s it going?” “Shut up, Rhoden,” I said. My gait neither sped nor slowed. I did not look his way. -- 4113 A.D. Spring “What did you do, Aoede?” “I didn’t do anything.” “I’ll sue that neuromodder! They can’t do this. Not without my neural cursive signature.” “I took your name off. We’re no longer common law. I don’t need your consent on anything. Not anymore.” “How could you have done this?” “People do it all the time.” “Other people. Not us. Not you and me.” “Lanny there couldn’t have been a ‘you and me’ with what I knew you did. I remember how it felt. It was worse than death.” “Then just leave me. Why do this to yourself?” “So there could be a ‘you and me’.” “The only reason I kept going was because of you. You were my Prometheus.” “I still am.” “Aoede, how do you feel about our first concert?” “I remembered something bubbly, a good feeling.” “How do you feel about that song I wrote about us? The one only we’ve heard?” “I remembered it being nice.” “How do you feel about me now?” “Good. I feel good.” Her face was as smooth as sand dune. As she smiled, her teeth aligned in symmetry. Her eyes were perfect brown mirrors. -- Seven a.m. Practice time. We were booked to play for the crew in a couple days, so we had no time to slack off. Rhoden was already there setting up his kit. I started setting up too. “Listen,” I said. “Sorry about last night. You didn’t deserve that.” “I know,” he said. “I figured something must’ve been bothering you.” “That shouldn’t matter. You’re a member of the band, and honestly? Everyone should start acknowledging that.” “I’m sure they all do in their own way.” “Our own way might not be enough, Rhoden. We’ve been rather rude to our only drummer for, ha, I don’t know? Since forever.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had really met him. I stopped my warm-up and looked Rhoden face to face. I nearly dropped the amplifier when I saw his eyes. “What?” He said with a perfect smile. “You’re…” “What’s wrong?” “I never knew.” Rhoden shrugged. “Well I suppose it never came up, you know. It doesn’t affect my drumming negatively. There’s anecdotes out there saying it actually helps with certain things.” “Why?!” “’Cuz I was always a sensitive guy. And in this business you just don’t last like that. Millions of people love you, then they hate you, and then they forget. Sometimes your own co-workers call you things. Worse, sometimes they pretend you’re not even there. So I…” He made a clipping motion with his fingers beside his head. “…did this. Now I could last until we made it big.” Somewhere in the middle of his story I had started laughing. I had to hold onto the amplifier stand to catch my breath. Tears ran down my face. I wiped them away. We hadn’t had breakfast yet and my sleeve was already ruined. What had been so funny? I couldn’t say. “So don’t worry,” Rhoden continued, “about hurting my feelings or anything like that. I’m beyond tough now. We’ll all make it together.” “Sure thing, Rhodey,” I said. “In a few years we’ll play for over a million people, and none of them will forget us.” “Hell yeah, Lanny.” Our knuckles met—a primal greeting we had dug up from the deep past. For all their lack of sophistication, the ancients knew how to connect with almost no technology. The door slid open. “Well, look who decided to show up,” I said to the approaching shadow. Bronson came into detail face first, fist second. I must have lost consciousness for a heartbeat because when I blinked I was on the ground. My hand had moved on its own to my jaw, and Rhoden had stepped between us. “Whoa! Easy,” Rhoden said. “What’s got our best multicordion player so riled up?” Bronson didn’t look at Rhoden, he just shoved him aside. He wasn’t so easy with me. Hands bigger than mine lifted me up by the collar. “This is on you,” he said through his teeth. “You made her do this.” “What the fuck are you on about?” I said. He pushed me off. I stumbled back. “Fight me!” He said. He raised his fists. “Bronson…” One of my teeth were loose. Oh well. “Hit me!” “I’m not going to hit you.” “You think you’re better?!” “Fuck no! That’s why I don’t want to fight you. I’d lose pretty hard.” Bronson wanted to hit me again. His fist practically swelled by his hip. He never got to; a folded chair joined the side of his head with a clatter. Bronson made a muted gasp as he fell onto the ground. When he recovered, the madness in his eyes gave way to confusion. “Rhoden?” He said. “Well.” Rhoden shrugged as if he just spilled a glass of milk. “You looked like you needed a breather.” “I-” Bronson looked at his bloody fist, then at me. Then sheepishly, and maybe a little reluctantly, “Sorry.” “What happened?” I asked. “I thought I’d walk Clara to practice,” Bronson said. “She wouldn’t open the door at first, until I insisted. When I walked in, she was crying. Talking about how much it hurt and about quitting the band and-” “And what?” “She’s going to take the anti-nostalgic.” The centrifuge must have stopped, yet I didn’t float away. My heart seemed to move elsewhere in my chest. It was too much. I had to take a seat on the practice room floor. “Why?” Rhoden asked like he was questioning someone’s choice of shirt. Bronson didn’t bother answering. He picked himself up and left. Now there was only the two of us. Rhoden squatted beside me. “Oh it’s not so bad,” he said. “I was scared too when I took the anti-nostalgic. Like a lot of people I thought it would lobotomize me and turn me into a vegetable. All it really does to remove the parts of you tied down to negative emotion.” He gave my bicep a painful squeeze. “Beyond tough. Frankly, I’m surprised Clara took so long. She was always a, well, you’d know. You spend the most time with her, after all.” -- 4113 A.D. Autumn “What do you want to eat?” “Anything really.” “Where’d you like?” “With you.” “Do you want to go somewhere this weekend?” “Anywhere.” “I want to show you this verse. I’ve been experimenting. How is it?” “Amazing. I love it.” “Aoede.” “Yes?” “Do you love me?” “I only love you.” -- I didn’t make it to practice the next day. I stayed in the shower. My only companion was the little high-pitched cartoon dancing on the glass. “Uh oh! someone’s hogging the water!” My nails were bent. I had spent too long digging them into my scalp. “Pwease switch to ultrasonics. Pwetty pwease?” I stared into the ceiling light. Warm water droplets crawled down my face. Some went into my eyes. “Listen, superstar, water is also reaction mass! We kiiinda need that stuff!” People had no idea what it was like. If you did something wrong, they remembered forever. At least, I did. Every sour note. Every missed lyric. Every virtual concert where we ended with those blank looks staring up at us. But when we landed our mark and the crowd roared—nothing replaced that feeling. That was the air we breathed. For the moment, it didn’t seem to matter that there were a hundred more groups coming up next. “You’re not being re-spons-i-ble!” We only took a spot on the Phaedo because we wanted an easier audience, because we were afraid of bombing as much as we were afraid of being ignored. And because I couldn’t bear to stay in the System anymore. The Xesperados were meant to fail. Especially with me on it.
-- 4108 A.D. Spring “Well that was fucking horrible,” Bronson said. “Come on guys, it wasn’t that bad,” Rhoden said. “I would give up,” Clara said. “But I spent everything I had on my baby.” She gingerly put her guitar down. “There’s trillions of people in the System,” Rhoden said. “Right Bronson?” Bronson was already on his way out. His multicordion laid against a box stand precariously. Rhoden adjusted it with his foot so it stayed upright. “Well, at least we had each other,” Clara said, probably sarcastically. That was the way she was. But tonight had not been a good night. I avoided her gaze and didn’t bother talking to any of them as I hurried out. Maybe they were right—maybe I should’ve quit a long time ago and went into mum and dad’s business. Maybe I should’ve been looking where I was going, because I nearly barreled into someone on my way out the venue. “Sorry! Sorry!” I said. “No worries. My fault, really.” Weird. How could it have possibly been her fault? I was the one not looking where I was going, so steeped in self-pity that I somehow missed someone like this right in front of me. Now I couldn’t remember the person I was before meeting her. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Aoede.” She offered a hand. “Long way from the exit, Aoede.” “Just wanted to opine.” “That bad you needed to come backstage to tell us?” I said, joking. “I have a list of criticisms,” she said matter-of-factly. “Let’s hear it.” “It’s quite long. We’ll need to sit down somewhere. We’ll probably need something to wet our throats in the while.” “Oh. Uh,” I sighed. “Honestly, we were thinking of breaking up the Xesperados. And after tonight…” “You shouldn’t.” I frowned. “Why?” I asked. She had started to inch away, hands tucked behind her back. “I made a really good list.” -- The door’s pneumatics weren’t keeping up, so I wrenched them open and shoved myself through. “What in Dayus’s name?” The doctor exclaimed. I ignored her. “Clara, I’m sorry,” I said. Clara sat up off the neuromod table, squinting. “Lanny?” She said. “Don’t do it,” I said. “Lanny-” “We can’t do this without you. All of you. There’s no point in the Dysfunctional Xesperados making it if we fuck ourselves in the head like Rhoden did.” “That’s rude.” “Just get off the table. We’ll talk about it.” She slid her legs over the side and left the table. “I wasn’t gonna go through with it anyway,” she said. “I was- I don’t know. Just weird.” “Oh.” Why the hell did I do this then? Before I could get a word in, the doctor began ushering us out. “I don’t care about whatever this is,” the doctor said. “All I know is you’ve wasted my time. And Lanny?” “Yeah?” I said. “Dry yourself off and put on some damn clothes. This place is a closed ecosystem.” The door hissed shut behind us. We were left to the ship’s punishing atmospherics. I began to shiver. Clara rubbed my shoulders as we walked back to my room. “I’m glad you came,” she said. “Let’s me know you do care about me.” “Not that much.” “I know. I should’ve made peace with it a long time ago.” “Besides, if I did care about you, you’d lose interest in me entirely.” “Probably.” I was joking. She was not. Classic Clara. I got dressed and called the band together for one final session before we played for the crew. We weren’t the only entertainers on board; there’d be some competition. A little was always good—kept us on edge. I thought Bronson wouldn’t show up, but he did, probably because I had Clara relay the summons. We jammed harder than any practice session before. My voice gave out somewhere around three a.m. The doctor wasn’t too pleased to see my face in her office to have the sore, and my loose tooth, rejuvenated. Oh well. When we stepped onto the Phaedo’s stage, it felt like our first venue again. The blood rushing to the head. The loss of feeling in the toes. The sweating in the pits. I didn’t look at the crowd. Instead, I looked at my team, my people. Then the lights dimmed. I grabbed the amplifier out of the darkness and breathed fire.
submitted by AlecPEnnis to HFY [link] [comments]
--
You’d think they’d keep the atmospherics comfortable for the colonists if we’re so goddamned important. But here I am freezing the hairs off my taint in the hallway. The sweat didn’t help. Neither did my lack of clothes. “Can you at least give me back my-” My arms flew up to shield my face from the shotgun blast—left sock, right sock, shirt, wrist pad, pants. At least the pellets were soft. I let my arms down too early and learned that my shoe wasn’t. I should have cut my losses there. “What about the oth-” The second shoe flew into my nose and plopped soundlessly on the floor, cushioned by the pile of fabric. Clara affixed me with a grimaced glare. With one hand tight on the bed sheets shielding her from me, she grabbed the door with her other and slammed it shut. A final vestige of warm perfume wafted over me before it all blended into the cold sterility of the hallway. I suppressed a sneeze. I dressed quickly. The smart fabric began to readjust to my size and wick away the moisture. My wrist pad would take longer; it had been roughly treated beneath Clara’s weight, then mine, then both of ours. I walked alone back to my quarters. My steps echoed. I curled my feet so I didn’t make a sound. The last thing I needed was the feeling of being followed. Until I heard another set of footsteps coming towards me and realized that was worse. “Lanny? You alright?” Rhoden asked, looking me up and down. “Fine. Rhodey,” I said. I regretted my tone there. That was unnecessarily terse. But it did the job; Rhoden kept walking without engaging further. He was a good sport. He usually was. And he certainly didn’t need to know our business to keep beat on the skins. I made it to my quarters without being accosted further by company. I stripped, put in a couple minutes in the ultrasonic shower, then bought the farm for the night. We had a big day tomorrow. -- 4113 A.D. Summer, Night “You see that up there?” “I see it.” “It’s the biggest one yet.” “Yes it is.” “And they asked us! The Dysfunctional Xesperados! We’re finally going places. Didn’t I tell you?” “I’m really proud of you, Lanny.” The corners of her mouth curled like a leaf in the breeze. She wasn’t looking at the starlight. She was looking through the night, straight into my eyes. -- “What’s with the get-up?” Bronson said lazily. “It’s the atmospherics,” I said. “I don’t know why they have it so low. And ‘get-up’? It’s a sweater.” The door to the auditorium hissed open. Clara walked through, yawning. Bronson immediately turned, suddenly alive. I tried not to make a face. I wished he made it less obvious. Luckily Clara didn’t notice. She never did. “Hey, guys. Lanny, you look like shit,” Clara said. I wanted to clap back, but looking at her face I saw that she must have been joking. It was such a Clara thing to say. She must be back to normal. I took a breath. “Good morning to you t-” A clatter behind us brought a jolt to my shoulders. “Sorry,” Rhoden said sheepishly. He rushed to set up the kit again. Bronson rolled his eyes. Clara made an exasperated noise. I sighed and came over to help him. Bronson brought his hands together in a singular, rousing clap. “Alright, let’s hope the rest of the morning goes better than this,” he said. He slung his multicordion over his tall frame. Long fingers flipped the knobs and levers, adjusting the frequencies in the hundreds of filters inside. Analog current coursed through the instrument. Pure electronic audio came out. Bronson deftly tuned the machine until it sounded just right. It could’ve all been automatic, but that wasn’t our way. It’s what made us different. Rhoden finished erecting the kit and began his warm-up. He was mellifluous, precise, but not mechanically dull. His rhythm had soul that procedural generation just couldn’t match. Clara took up her guitar—the Siamese Seraphim—and brought it to life. Six strings, two necks, all under her control, like all things that held her fickle passion. Then there was me. I was to the front and right of Rhoden. Bronson to one side, Clara to the left. I swept the stand off the ground, raising it until the amplifier ring floated three inches from my lips. Cold air poured into my chest. It takes a second to build. Then I breathed fire, Rhoden swung down—the twin oaken tapers drawing executioner’s swings onto skin and brass, Bronson’s multicordion growled in half a dozen voices, and the Seraphims sang in their immolation. We played until there was nothing left, until everything went black. -- 4113 A.D. Summer, Night “They’re loading it up,” I said. I pointed at the sky. That was where I wanted her to look. It was dark except for the twinkling stars. One was brighter than most. It was moving ever so slightly. “It’s beautiful,” the new Aoede said. “Watch.” A black hand curled around the star. The night returned. The crickets had our audience once again. “The next one’s in a week,” I said. “How many more?” “I don’t know? We’re going pretty far. Four whole light-years. We’d need a lot of fuel.” “A long way away.” “Yeah.” “Are you happy?” “I don’t know. Are you?” “If you are.” -- We put away our instruments. I indulged and took a water shower. Today had been a good day. If our conditioning goes well for the next couple of weeks we’d… play in front of a million faces. I see them chant. Our lyrics sing back at us with amplified fervor. Then at the end I leap off the stage into a hundred arms like a centipede on its back. It had been a long time since I had this fantasy. Maybe the change of environment was exactly what I needed. The farther we moved from the Erde-Luna suprapolitan volume the clearer my head was. “Welp, I don’t have any plans after practice. You guys want to watch them load the last cell?” Rhoden said. “The whole System saw them load the last dozen,” Bronson said, rolling his eyes. I almost sided with Bronson. It was a stupid idea. Why on Erde would I want to see the same tedious process for the umpteenth time? It would bore me to tears. It made my stomach hurt. “Sure,” I said. “Why?” Bronson asked. “It’s the last sunset we’ll get for a long time,” I said. Bronson waved the idea off. “I wouldn’t mind,” Clara said. “Hell yeah!” Rhoden said. “The gang altogether. Oh, I have some dark glasses.” The observation deck was almost empty when we arrived. Mostly couples or triples sat in the seats. There was the occasional loner. I took a spot standing right by the photonic screen. The curved surface refracted the exterior of the ELV Phaedo right into the ship—as tall as taiga pines. A snapshot of the sky. A different one than what I was used to. This one was populated by a jovial god. We were close enough to see its faint rings. Some were always there. Others, man had put there. You could tell quite easily. Ours were canted at odd angles and dipped into the wood-grain atmosphere like sipping straws. Ours conducted pulses of light circumnavigating the planet in seconds. They were glowing brighter and brighter. I slipped the glasses on. The pulses converged on an object the size of a grain of sand on the screen. The rings went cold. Perspective made the convergence station look small. It was actually a city all on its own. There was a million staff onboard along with their families, just to name a few of the people that lived there. Poetically, they were called the Lapidarists, and their work was finished for now. I watched the gem leave the station, leaking from the moment it was born. In many ways it was just like a real star; it looked bright, it was hot too, and would grow hotter as time went on. Then it would disappear in one ostentatious finale—in cosmic terms—in the blink of an eye. “This is the hottest black hole they’ll load,” Rhoden was saying somewhere behind me. I was half-listening—more than what could be said for the others. “And the most ephemeral. Little over three hundred year lifespan. Six hundred thousand metric tons.” We were quite far away. But I thought I could feel the gem’s light on my skin, the taste of sea salt on my lips, the scent of sand on my nose. The past was staring at me while I was lingering at the present. I remembered the sun dipping below the horizon, the oranges fading into blues as reflective hands closed around the gem. I remembered when the water swallowed the light and I couldn’t see her face anymore as the gem disappeared, encapsulated, ready to be transported into the Phaedo’s hull. What face was she making when she had said that to me? “Go out there. Go do your thing.” “I’m sorry,” Clara said. I snapped out of it. She was standing next to me. I felt like I was noticing her for the first time today. She wore a sweater which hung over one shoulder, revealing black straps on dark daffodil skin. She had done her hair fully. Sometimes she let it blossom into messy curls. Sometimes she forced them straight. Sometimes she colored them a myriad of colors both in the visible and invisible spectrums. Today she had them done the way they had been on the day we met, back when I could barely sing and she struggled with a hand-me-down five-string. “Sorry for what?” I asked. “I keep doing this. I let you in, then I kick you out. I just can’t help it when I- when you say those things and you…” “Agree to disagree?” “It’s just that I believe so hard, and it makes so much sense. I can’t understand why you don’t.” “People are different.” “I know. I just- I don’t want this to get between us.” “It won’t.” “I just need to avoid talking System affairs with you.” “Please do.” Her face hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing. I was agreeing with you on this.” “On what? The idea that I’m a windbag? You’re saying I should just shut up.” “I didn’t mean that.” “Yes you did. You’re so- how can you sing so well and be so dark on the inside? Like you don’t care about people at all?” I felt one of my incisors on my lip. “Clara, on the years that you bother to, we both have the same number of votes.” To be honest, I knew I shouldn’t have said that even as the words were forming in my head. I did anyway. Clara didn’t make a face. She simply shook a little. Then she walked away. She didn’t even hit me—that was the worst sign. I took a deep breath and resolved to take care of it later. For now, at least I had a moment to myself. That didn’t last. “What did you say to her?” “Fuck off, Bronson,” I said. “Tell me.” Ignoring him was usually a bad idea. I didn’t say anything. A hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me away from the screen. Bronson pushed me against the photonics. The pixels glitched as my weight pressed against them. “Why do you do this?” He said. “All the fucking time I see her walk away from you like this. And all the fucking time I see her go back to you. What is wrong with you?” “That’s not what you want to ask.” “What would that be?” He said, baring his teeth. “What you really want to ask is, ‘why isn’t she inviting me, when I would agree with anything she says?’” I braced my foot so when he hit me I stayed upright. I thought there’d be a second one. Instead, he walked away too. I swallowed the copper taste and returned to my screen. “This is so cool.” “Yes, Rhoden?” I asked. He had a window popped up in front of him. He must have been immersed this whole time. “The encapsulation is done with a swirling ball of plasma wrapped around by a quasiparticle layer of electron gas. It’s like a spherical mirror, just like the sun’s insides, keeping the cell’s radiation contained. When they need energy, they just open up a part of it and let some light out.” “That is very cool, Rhoden.” “Kind of makes me wish I had gone into singularity engineering instead of drumming. And uh, hey your lip…” “Just dry, is all.” “Man, the ship’s atmospherics really doesn’t agree with you huh?” “Oh well,” I said. -- 4112 A.D. Winter “How long? How long has this been going on?” “A while.” “How. Long.” “Before us. Oh-eight.” “Four fucking years ago?!” “I’m sorry.” “Why did you even bother with me?” Because you had something that mattered, that would last. “You matter more.” “Is that why you’re leaving and going with her?” “That’s not what’s happening. I’m going with the group. You can’t just bring people to a colony, you have to bring-” “Culture. Like you ever gave a shit. You didn’t even care about yourself before me.” “I’m sorry.” “You’re not.” Tears. Ugly. Sharp. Painful. “You don’t know how to be.” -- I imagined a hundred thousand of us stuck in the same assemblage of tubes, trusses, and centrifuges, hurtling between the stars. A mushroom cap layer of ice at the front of this wireframe kite absorbed the hard sleet of interstellar radiation. The unforgiving calculus of this kind of travel forced the Phaedo—the biggest ship ever built—to be light. The armor between us delicate flesh pockets and vacuum might as well be foil. I had to remind myself the heaviest things onboard weren’t the singularity cores. It was the million more freeze-dried humans packed away, waiting to be rehydrated in a few years; those were the real burden. So that was how long we had to practice, to train, so we’re worthy of being a part of what they’re already calling the Proximan culture. An honor, truly. Bronson and I didn’t talk for a few days. We exchanged one or two phrases during practice—no more than necessary. ‘Was I in tune?’ ‘Did that sound right?’ I knew he wasn’t really angry. He needed to put in the motions of defending her. He wouldn’t tell her this of course. Clara needed to be the one that noticed he was the one who really cared. Then finally, finally!—it would all be worth it, this performance. One long peacock’s display. “What are you thinking about?” Clara asked softly, drawing circles on my chest. She was a warm weight on top of my arm, light enough to float, heavy enough to pin me down. “About the past,” I said. “About where we came from.” “Mmhm?” “And where we’ll end up.” “In history,” she said. That was our plan: to be one of the greats in a branch-off of human civilization away from the storied past of music in our Solar System. To make footfall on a new, difficult road. But that wasn’t what I saw when they announced the Phaedo’s construction. The forty-second fucking century: when originality was meaningless, when soul could be replicated, when analog was just hipster. The Dysfunctional Xesperados had no real fanbase. Listeners could compress every album we made into a neural payload. One shot and synapses exploded into existence. These things could even simulate passed time, so listeners could feel as though they just spent several hours getting something out of our music, when it was actually three minutes on a chilled bed. Real-time was a waste of time. Not on Proxima Centauri. We’d start over there. Analog humans in an analog, low-tech world. Where they’d have no choice but to listen and to love us. That was what I saw. So now that we were on the road, why did I want to sprint back to my room and hurl and spend an hour under running water tucked away in the corner of the stall? I supposed it didn’t matter. This time there’d be no Aoede to pull me out. I would never see her again. “I’d better go,” I said. “But I haven’t-” “Better this way. Before…” “Before what?” “Before we start talking.” She seemed torn, like she wanted to recoil but knew letting me go would also give me what I asked for. I didn’t push her out of the way. Never had to before. I usually left when she fell asleep; she had never complained about waking up alone. Other times we would talk, leading to predictable results. Now we weren’t talking, she wasn’t asleep, and I wanted to leave. “I should go back to my room,” I said. “Practice at seven.” “You can sleep here.” “I never do.” “You can start.” “Why?” “Why not?” “It’s just not what we do.” “Why. Not.” “I-” “We do everything else! Except this- this one thing!” What thing? I couldn’t say. I decided to move, just a little bit. Clara pinned me down. I wondered what face she was making. We had never been here before—not even close. I didn’t know what this feeling was. “Let me go, Clara,” someone said in my voice. “Why?” It was more sob than speech. She bore over me, a heavy, hot shadow of sickly perfume. “Let me go.” “No.” My hands closed around her wrists and I gently moved her aside. Then I walked out, half-dressed, not fully dry, leaving behind the soft sounds of choked gasping. The door hissed shut, silencing it. The sterile air buried our scents. It was all gone. “Lanny? How’s it going?” “Shut up, Rhoden,” I said. My gait neither sped nor slowed. I did not look his way. -- 4113 A.D. Spring “What did you do, Aoede?” “I didn’t do anything.” “I’ll sue that neuromodder! They can’t do this. Not without my neural cursive signature.” “I took your name off. We’re no longer common law. I don’t need your consent on anything. Not anymore.” “How could you have done this?” “People do it all the time.” “Other people. Not us. Not you and me.” “Lanny there couldn’t have been a ‘you and me’ with what I knew you did. I remember how it felt. It was worse than death.” “Then just leave me. Why do this to yourself?” “So there could be a ‘you and me’.” “The only reason I kept going was because of you. You were my Prometheus.” “I still am.” “Aoede, how do you feel about our first concert?” “I remembered something bubbly, a good feeling.” “How do you feel about that song I wrote about us? The one only we’ve heard?” “I remembered it being nice.” “How do you feel about me now?” “Good. I feel good.” Her face was as smooth as sand dune. As she smiled, her teeth aligned in symmetry. Her eyes were perfect brown mirrors. -- Seven a.m. Practice time. We were booked to play for the crew in a couple days, so we had no time to slack off. Rhoden was already there setting up his kit. I started setting up too. “Listen,” I said. “Sorry about last night. You didn’t deserve that.” “I know,” he said. “I figured something must’ve been bothering you.” “That shouldn’t matter. You’re a member of the band, and honestly? Everyone should start acknowledging that.” “I’m sure they all do in their own way.” “Our own way might not be enough, Rhoden. We’ve been rather rude to our only drummer for, ha, I don’t know? Since forever.” I couldn’t remember the last time I had really met him. I stopped my warm-up and looked Rhoden face to face. I nearly dropped the amplifier when I saw his eyes. “What?” He said with a perfect smile. “You’re…” “What’s wrong?” “I never knew.” Rhoden shrugged. “Well I suppose it never came up, you know. It doesn’t affect my drumming negatively. There’s anecdotes out there saying it actually helps with certain things.” “Why?!” “’Cuz I was always a sensitive guy. And in this business you just don’t last like that. Millions of people love you, then they hate you, and then they forget. Sometimes your own co-workers call you things. Worse, sometimes they pretend you’re not even there. So I…” He made a clipping motion with his fingers beside his head. “…did this. Now I could last until we made it big.” Somewhere in the middle of his story I had started laughing. I had to hold onto the amplifier stand to catch my breath. Tears ran down my face. I wiped them away. We hadn’t had breakfast yet and my sleeve was already ruined. What had been so funny? I couldn’t say. “So don’t worry,” Rhoden continued, “about hurting my feelings or anything like that. I’m beyond tough now. We’ll all make it together.” “Sure thing, Rhodey,” I said. “In a few years we’ll play for over a million people, and none of them will forget us.” “Hell yeah, Lanny.” Our knuckles met—a primal greeting we had dug up from the deep past. For all their lack of sophistication, the ancients knew how to connect with almost no technology. The door slid open. “Well, look who decided to show up,” I said to the approaching shadow. Bronson came into detail face first, fist second. I must have lost consciousness for a heartbeat because when I blinked I was on the ground. My hand had moved on its own to my jaw, and Rhoden had stepped between us. “Whoa! Easy,” Rhoden said. “What’s got our best multicordion player so riled up?” Bronson didn’t look at Rhoden, he just shoved him aside. He wasn’t so easy with me. Hands bigger than mine lifted me up by the collar. “This is on you,” he said through his teeth. “You made her do this.” “What the fuck are you on about?” I said. He pushed me off. I stumbled back. “Fight me!” He said. He raised his fists. “Bronson…” One of my teeth were loose. Oh well. “Hit me!” “I’m not going to hit you.” “You think you’re better?!” “Fuck no! That’s why I don’t want to fight you. I’d lose pretty hard.” Bronson wanted to hit me again. His fist practically swelled by his hip. He never got to; a folded chair joined the side of his head with a clatter. Bronson made a muted gasp as he fell onto the ground. When he recovered, the madness in his eyes gave way to confusion. “Rhoden?” He said. “Well.” Rhoden shrugged as if he just spilled a glass of milk. “You looked like you needed a breather.” “I-” Bronson looked at his bloody fist, then at me. Then sheepishly, and maybe a little reluctantly, “Sorry.” “What happened?” I asked. “I thought I’d walk Clara to practice,” Bronson said. “She wouldn’t open the door at first, until I insisted. When I walked in, she was crying. Talking about how much it hurt and about quitting the band and-” “And what?” “She’s going to take the anti-nostalgic.” The centrifuge must have stopped, yet I didn’t float away. My heart seemed to move elsewhere in my chest. It was too much. I had to take a seat on the practice room floor. “Why?” Rhoden asked like he was questioning someone’s choice of shirt. Bronson didn’t bother answering. He picked himself up and left. Now there was only the two of us. Rhoden squatted beside me. “Oh it’s not so bad,” he said. “I was scared too when I took the anti-nostalgic. Like a lot of people I thought it would lobotomize me and turn me into a vegetable. All it really does to remove the parts of you tied down to negative emotion.” He gave my bicep a painful squeeze. “Beyond tough. Frankly, I’m surprised Clara took so long. She was always a, well, you’d know. You spend the most time with her, after all.” -- 4113 A.D. Autumn “What do you want to eat?” “Anything really.” “Where’d you like?” “With you.” “Do you want to go somewhere this weekend?” “Anywhere.” “I want to show you this verse. I’ve been experimenting. How is it?” “Amazing. I love it.” “Aoede.” “Yes?” “Do you love me?” “I only love you.” -- I didn’t make it to practice the next day. I stayed in the shower. My only companion was the little high-pitched cartoon dancing on the glass. “Uh oh! someone’s hogging the water!” My nails were bent. I had spent too long digging them into my scalp. “Pwease switch to ultrasonics. Pwetty pwease?” I stared into the ceiling light. Warm water droplets crawled down my face. Some went into my eyes. “Listen, superstar, water is also reaction mass! We kiiinda need that stuff!” People had no idea what it was like. If you did something wrong, they remembered forever. At least, I did. Every sour note. Every missed lyric. Every virtual concert where we ended with those blank looks staring up at us. But when we landed our mark and the crowd roared—nothing replaced that feeling. That was the air we breathed. For the moment, it didn’t seem to matter that there were a hundred more groups coming up next. “You’re not being re-spons-i-ble!” We only took a spot on the Phaedo because we wanted an easier audience, because we were afraid of bombing as much as we were afraid of being ignored. And because I couldn’t bear to stay in the System anymore. The Xesperados were meant to fail. Especially with me on it.
-- 4108 A.D. Spring “Well that was fucking horrible,” Bronson said. “Come on guys, it wasn’t that bad,” Rhoden said. “I would give up,” Clara said. “But I spent everything I had on my baby.” She gingerly put her guitar down. “There’s trillions of people in the System,” Rhoden said. “Right Bronson?” Bronson was already on his way out. His multicordion laid against a box stand precariously. Rhoden adjusted it with his foot so it stayed upright. “Well, at least we had each other,” Clara said, probably sarcastically. That was the way she was. But tonight had not been a good night. I avoided her gaze and didn’t bother talking to any of them as I hurried out. Maybe they were right—maybe I should’ve quit a long time ago and went into mum and dad’s business. Maybe I should’ve been looking where I was going, because I nearly barreled into someone on my way out the venue. “Sorry! Sorry!” I said. “No worries. My fault, really.” Weird. How could it have possibly been her fault? I was the one not looking where I was going, so steeped in self-pity that I somehow missed someone like this right in front of me. Now I couldn’t remember the person I was before meeting her. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Aoede.” She offered a hand. “Long way from the exit, Aoede.” “Just wanted to opine.” “That bad you needed to come backstage to tell us?” I said, joking. “I have a list of criticisms,” she said matter-of-factly. “Let’s hear it.” “It’s quite long. We’ll need to sit down somewhere. We’ll probably need something to wet our throats in the while.” “Oh. Uh,” I sighed. “Honestly, we were thinking of breaking up the Xesperados. And after tonight…” “You shouldn’t.” I frowned. “Why?” I asked. She had started to inch away, hands tucked behind her back. “I made a really good list.” -- The door’s pneumatics weren’t keeping up, so I wrenched them open and shoved myself through. “What in Dayus’s name?” The doctor exclaimed. I ignored her. “Clara, I’m sorry,” I said. Clara sat up off the neuromod table, squinting. “Lanny?” She said. “Don’t do it,” I said. “Lanny-” “We can’t do this without you. All of you. There’s no point in the Dysfunctional Xesperados making it if we fuck ourselves in the head like Rhoden did.” “That’s rude.” “Just get off the table. We’ll talk about it.” She slid her legs over the side and left the table. “I wasn’t gonna go through with it anyway,” she said. “I was- I don’t know. Just weird.” “Oh.” Why the hell did I do this then? Before I could get a word in, the doctor began ushering us out. “I don’t care about whatever this is,” the doctor said. “All I know is you’ve wasted my time. And Lanny?” “Yeah?” I said. “Dry yourself off and put on some damn clothes. This place is a closed ecosystem.” The door hissed shut behind us. We were left to the ship’s punishing atmospherics. I began to shiver. Clara rubbed my shoulders as we walked back to my room. “I’m glad you came,” she said. “Let’s me know you do care about me.” “Not that much.” “I know. I should’ve made peace with it a long time ago.” “Besides, if I did care about you, you’d lose interest in me entirely.” “Probably.” I was joking. She was not. Classic Clara. I got dressed and called the band together for one final session before we played for the crew. We weren’t the only entertainers on board; there’d be some competition. A little was always good—kept us on edge. I thought Bronson wouldn’t show up, but he did, probably because I had Clara relay the summons. We jammed harder than any practice session before. My voice gave out somewhere around three a.m. The doctor wasn’t too pleased to see my face in her office to have the sore, and my loose tooth, rejuvenated. Oh well. When we stepped onto the Phaedo’s stage, it felt like our first venue again. The blood rushing to the head. The loss of feeling in the toes. The sweating in the pits. I didn’t look at the crowd. Instead, I looked at my team, my people. Then the lights dimmed. I grabbed the amplifier out of the darkness and breathed fire.
2024.05.06 04:22 Far-Yak-9808 My own personal Lotto Update (using Tankathon simulation): NO TRADES
Lotto night is in one week. We will find out who picks where.
I have tried to go through some of the highlights. Just MEH all around (at best).
If you have trouble sleeping though, look at these prospect's HIGHLIGHTS. I think the LOW LIGHTS will give you nightmares.
I have a tier list and a big board breakdown -- not pick/fit dependent. In the process of watching highlights and scouting reports and things. Hasn't changed my opinions that much -- just shown me more prospects to look at.
I did a quick roll of the dice on Tankathon and this is the order. Tried to go with BPA/fit as much as possible! These are pretty much my top prospects anyway, so, no big deal.
So, check it out. Any feed back will be welcomed! Any hits? Misses? OBVIOUS TRADES???
Next best available: Cam Spencer, Yannick Kraag, Keshad Johnson, PJ Hall, Thierry Darlan
Over-rated/value traps: Isaiah Collier, Kyle Filipowski, Cody Williams
Back To School (prediction): Bronny James, Alex Karaban
Tier breakdown:
Tier 1.00: Zach Edey
Tier 2.00: Matas Buzelis/Nikola Djurisic
Tier 2.25: Hunter Sallis/Rob Dillingham/Reed Sheppard
Tier 2.75: Zaccharie RisacheDonovan Clingan
Tier 3.00: Dalton Knecht/Alex SarAjay Mitchell/Jared McCain/Mark Sears/Tomislav Ivisic
Tier 3.50: Ron Holland II/Keshad Johnson/Cam SpenceN'faly Dante/Thierry Darlan/Tristen Newton
Tier 4/Tier 5ish: Everybody else.
submitted by Far-Yak-9808 to NBA_Draft [link] [comments]
I have tried to go through some of the highlights. Just MEH all around (at best).
If you have trouble sleeping though, look at these prospect's HIGHLIGHTS. I think the LOW LIGHTS will give you nightmares.
I have a tier list and a big board breakdown -- not pick/fit dependent. In the process of watching highlights and scouting reports and things. Hasn't changed my opinions that much -- just shown me more prospects to look at.
I did a quick roll of the dice on Tankathon and this is the order. Tried to go with BPA/fit as much as possible! These are pretty much my top prospects anyway, so, no big deal.
So, check it out. Any feed back will be welcomed! Any hits? Misses? OBVIOUS TRADES???
- San Antonio Spurs: Zaccharie Risacher -- his shooting slump might be over. Could be a 3 and D Sean Elliott.
- Detroit Pistons: Reed Sheppard -- can still play Cade Ball. Reed can play on/off ball. Pistons have weapons -- need floor spacers. Maybe he can help activate Ausar Thompson and Jalen Duren! Marcus Sasser might be a similar prospect -- but Reed Sheppard looks like a good fit in the BPA tier.
- Washington Wizards: Rob Dillingham -- yeah, this guy might stink. BUT, he could reignite the fan base. Just give the guy the ball and see what happens. His floor might be low, or at least SHORT, but he can get his own shot (which helps). Upside comps of Isiah Thomas and Allen Iverson.
- Atlanta Hawks: Alex Sarr -- the re-load pick here around Trae/Murray/Jalen Johnson. Any "swerve" here would indicate MAJOR deck reshuffling.
- Charlotte Hornets: Donovan Clingan -- Hornets have firepower. All they need is to upgrade their medical staff or their front court. I give you Doctor D!
- Portland Trailblazers: Zach Edey -- dino big man. For the franchise who took Walton/Bowie/Oden, their fan base should be fearless. In a 3 big man draft, they are drafting BIG3 (at worst). The guy is a monster who can score and rebound. With Scoot firing up bricks by the dozen, Edey could be a fantasy king (at least with rebounds).
- San Antonio Spurs: Nikola Topic -- Spurs get their Topic -- but maybe not the best Nikola in the draft. A pick and roll point guard but I think Wemby would be probably be better off initiating the offense as a 7'5 Scottie Pippen. Topic can make fancy-ish passes though. Ok, ok, they just nabbed the IDEAL Cooper Flagg Tank Commander.
- Memphis Grizzlies: Matas Buzelis -- can play some 3. Some 4. I hope. With GG Jackson scheduled to be the feature player in Summer League, I think Buzelis can offer some point-forward/complementary stuff. Also, a fairly talented shot blocker. Swing skill is the 3 point shooting. If it swings in the right direction -- I can see him being a DELUXE version of guys like Robert Horry/Shane BattieDetlef Shrempf.
- Utah Jazz: Nikola Djurisic -- NIKOLA1 on my big board. Chris Mullin type? Gamer. Can score... and shoot. The Jazz have some bigs. The Jazz have some guards. Nikola Djurisic is a wing.
- Houston Rockets: Dalton Knecht -- firepower for a potential post-Dillon-free world. Could be Rick Barry LITE/Bernard King LITE on offense. Could open the floor (a bit for Amen, as well as Sengun). Not a lock down defender but he can rebound a bit and is solidly athletic. Chuck Person might be a good comp.
- Chicago Bulls: Jared McCain -- can shoot. Really small but oh well. Not as small as Rob. Longer than Reed. Good Moneyball play on those Kentucky guards, and besides, those two are already off the board. McCain/Caruso could be a good back court duo.
- OKC Thunder: Ron Holland II -- BPA. Other than that, yeah, BPA. Team lacks size a bit, in a league that is sizing up again. Can probably play some 4 next to Chet. OR, the 3, if they like Chet at the 4. Maybe they go after Isaiah Hartenstein or Alex Len in free agency to soak up some minutes at center.
- Sacramento Kings: Hunter Sallis -- makes Malik Monk expendable, although I think they should do a sign/trade for him to fortify their front line. Sallis can score, get hot from 3 and make some plays. Should fit in very well with Fox as well as Heurter and Keegan Murray -- along with two of their upstart guards (Keon Ellis/Davion Mitchell).
- Portland Trailblazers: Ajay Mitchell -- another sleeper pick type. No real "need" at this point having Sharpe/Scoot as their back court core for the future (and Jabari Walker at the 4). Ayton/Edey could be a fun twin towers duo. Ajay Mitchell figures to be a solidly crafty combo guard. Malcolm Brogdon insurance if they move him.
Next best available: Cam Spencer, Yannick Kraag, Keshad Johnson, PJ Hall, Thierry Darlan
Over-rated/value traps: Isaiah Collier, Kyle Filipowski, Cody Williams
Back To School (prediction): Bronny James, Alex Karaban
Tier breakdown:
Tier 1.00: Zach Edey
Tier 2.00: Matas Buzelis/Nikola Djurisic
Tier 2.25: Hunter Sallis/Rob Dillingham/Reed Sheppard
Tier 2.75: Zaccharie RisacheDonovan Clingan
Tier 3.00: Dalton Knecht/Alex SarAjay Mitchell/Jared McCain/Mark Sears/Tomislav Ivisic
Tier 3.50: Ron Holland II/Keshad Johnson/Cam SpenceN'faly Dante/Thierry Darlan/Tristen Newton
Tier 4/Tier 5ish: Everybody else.
2024.05.06 04:21 coffeeglitterqueen Camp Thellgar CW domestic violence part 1
Laurens' stomach seemed to flip and jolt with every bump of the road heading to the motel outside of town just past the main supermarket. Tears ran down her face. The car seemed to fishtail a little as she pulled in. There were several problems with her marriage. Namely that he had a tendency to hit her and accuse her of cheating on him, the most current problem was that he was cheating on her in a motel where everyone they knew could see. Lauren wasn’t thinking clearly as she banged on the door, she knew right away which one it would be, she could hear his voice coming out from it.
“OPEN UP!” She screamed as she pounded on the door. Lauren could feel the general sensation of her hand resisting the door. It would more than likely hurt at some point when she came off the adrenaline.
Then, the door did open. Daniel Anderson took up most of the frame and he was angry. Lauren could hear the other girl screaming inside but couldn’t seem to make out what she was saying. Her heart stopped as she looked into Daniels face. He was Angry. The kind of angry that meant he was going to hurt her, whether anyone could see it or not. Lauren backed up from the door to avoid being pulled in the room but Daniel followed her out.
“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked, his voice was even and low.
“I got 3 calls about you being here with some whore.” Lauren retorted. She had started edging towards her car at this point, seemingly just now realizing she had made a mistake in coming here. Her heart seemed to stop altogether as he reached for her.
Lauren ducked but he caught her by her hair, winding the strands in between his fingers and yanking her face so that her ear was next to her mouth.
“What did you call her?” He whispered through clenched teeth. Lauren remained mute at this point. She felt her heart speed up and she tried to figure out how to get out of this. He’d never hit her in public. If she could remind him where they were… “I asked you a question Bitch.
If Lauren had thought about answering at that point, she wasn’t given much of a chance. He swung her head up and then forward, the momentum knocking her to the ground. Then he kicked her, pain blossomed through her midsection stunning her and she had trouble catching her breath. His hands came back down and he began throwing her face into the bumper of his bright red truck. After a minute he threw her face in a different direction and she could taste gravel.
“Apologize.” Daniel said in a warning voice. Lauren tried to stand but he mimicked grabbing at her and she shrunk back. “Apologize to her for calling her a whore.”
Lauren said nothing, somewhat in shock and mostly in pain. She could taste blood and felt it running down her face. This time he did grab her by the arm and yanked her up in one movement.
“I Said. Apologize. “ his words were clear.
Lauren did. Stuttering out an I’m sorry in the other woman’s direction.
“You best be home when I get back.” With that Daniel turned around and went back in the room.
Lauren assessed her options but she couldn’t seem to think. She reached into her car and pulled out her purse and started walking. She couldn’t see out of one eye hardly at all and her head hurt in the back. Lauren knew that he had pulled out a significant amount of hair. She thought she recalled some sharp pain as her face was pulled back from the bumper but she couldn’t remember what had happened in any sort of order.
It was at least 2 miles to her friend’s house. Lauren knocked on the door and when Natalie opened the door Lauren pushed her way in. Natalie hissed as she looked at Lauren.
“What the fuck happened?” Natalie gingerly touched her eye, or at least Laurent thought it was the area heer eye should be in. She hadn’t realized how numb she’d been getting here until she wasn’t numb anymore and the throbbing started up. Todd, Natalie’s husband came from the bedrooms and audibly gasped as well. Lauren headed for the hair salon in the back as Natalie whispered to Todd.
Natalie found Lauren in the salon, lights on and sitting in the chair.
“I’ve got enough here for a haircut but I’ll have to get back to you on the last minute/middle of the night fee. I need it all chopped off if you would. I know he ripped a bit in the back so it’s uneven anyway. Honestly it’s irresponsible to keep my hair this long anyway,do people still do that Kate plus Eight hair? The may I speak to your manager hair?” Lauren had trouble forming the words but she kept going hoping that Natalie understood her. She purposefully faced away from the mirror.
“I can cut your hair for sure. Wouldn’t you rather go to a hospital?” Natalie asked carefully playing with Lauren’s hair. Lauren shookher head quickly and immediately regretted it. Todd came in the room with an ice pack and a washcloth. Natalie filled up a bowl of water and started carefully patting away dried blood and finding the actual cuts. There was water and ibuprofen with a few tylenol mixed in, Lauren had trouble with it.
Natalie cut her hair silently. Working around one spot and then going back to it before announcing that it was as good as it was going to get there until the massive cut healed.
“You want to stay here tonight babe?” Natalie asked as she once more took to wiping her face from the still open cuts.
“No I couldn't do that to you, he told me to go home and when he finds that I’m not there… I left my car at the motel. '' Lauren knew on some level she had and knew there had been a reason, but now that the adrenaline was amping down and quickly she had no idea what she was going to do now.
“The motel?”
“Yeah, he met that girl..that one… Beth, that’s her name. They were up there and I had 3 people call me to tell me his truck was there. I just lost it and drove up there. I didn’t expect this to happen. I figured he’d be caught and apologetic.”
“That fucking bitch, I know her. She has no shame. Anyone gives her a little attention and she thinks they’re married. Tells everyone about it. She smells to high heaven too.” Natalie said incensed.
“Well I got up there and confronted him and he did this until I apologi-apolo-. “ Lauren felt sick suddenly and didn’t bother to finish. It hurt more to talk anyway.
“Why don’t you kick him out? It’s your house, the bills are in your name, you survived years without him before so it’s not like you need to worry about money. Serve him with eviction papers and go hide out somewhere until the month is up. Then bar him from the house.”
“I can’t afford a vacation and last time I tried to kick him out, it didn’t go well.I’ve got nothing in savings or otherwise. I can’t stay with anyone because he’ll come find me and hurt someone else in the process. My kids are already going to be pissed about this and if I disappear it's them he’ll hassle.I can’t afford the medical bills if I go in for this and I can’t afford the next beating if I don’t go home and get there before he does. Plus he knows exactly where I work.”
“You aren’t going to have a job if you're dead and he’s going to kill you.. At this point we’re just waiting for when. I can help you. I can loan you money, Fuck, I’ll just give you the god damn money. “
“We both know you don’t have any more than I do. “ Lauren said leaning back
“Well, you aren’t going home tonight, call your kids and warn them that he’ll be calling and to get a police car out there or something. I’ll call Lottie and explain that you are taking a few days off, and you most certainly are taking a few days off ma’am. You can’t go in looking like that, Lottie’ll kick you back out as soon as you show up. I know where you can go for now.”
Lauren went out back, wincing as she lit up a cigarette and took a few good drags before calling her oldest daughter and explaining that Daniel was going to be angry and to be on the lookout and if she could please call her siblings because she just did not have the energy tonight. Lauren promised to go to the hospital, figuring she’d end up going at some point and assured her daughter that she would be fine. After hanging up Todd got her attention at the edge of the yard and gestured toward the car. Lauren got up and limped over to it to climb in and wondering why the actual fuck she had worn flip flops tonight for this. .
It was a long drive out of town and into the mountains. Lauren apologized profusely every time she looked at the car clock. Todd waved his hand dismissively and handed her a fresh ice pack.
“We’re going to see my cousin, he lives up in the woods doing work for the park. He’s pretty far out there and doesn’t come into town much so Daniel won’t know about him. I’d turn your phone off as a precaution though. GPS trackers and whatnot.”
Lauren had already turned her phone off and felt herself dozing off. Unsure of how long she had slept she was awoken by the car stopping. Todd told her to wait where she was while he talked to his cousin. Lauren wondered what she was going to do if this guy didn’t let her stay here tonight. A few minutes later Todd was back and helping her hobble inside. The other man looked like he’d been woken up. He looked Lauren up and down and then waved Todd away. Todd slumped his shoulders and walked back to the car.
“I’m Eric, you’ll get my room. I’ve got some shirts on the bed to sleep in. The dog might insist on laying with you don’t mind dogs too much. I’ll be right out here on the couch if you need anything, bathroom is over here. I can get you a water and some more ibuprofen.” Eric seemed nice. Lauren worried that Daniel would find her out here with another man and finish what he started at the motel. The motel that seemed to be eons ago. Lauren felt her knees start to buckle and she swayed. Eric grabbed her and helped to the bed. Lauren rolled over and managed to get under the blankets before passing out.
Lauren came to hazily and found that the man here was in the room, he seemed taller as in a lot taller.
“I just want to touch you.” Eric slurred out. He swayed awkwardly and seemed to float to the bed, his hands grabbed at her. Lauren was frozen and then noticed to her horror that her husband was right behind him. Daniel came around to the other side of the bed smiling as if he’d known all along that she would be here. Lauren pulled her legs back and tried to scoot back into the headboard as the men got on the bed and started pulling her legs apart and shoving their palms into her collarbone to push her back. Lauren cried out screaming at them to stop as they started biting at her hips and inner thighs. Then they were laughing as they bit into her and pulled her skin off. Eric moved his mouth to her face and bit into her forehead and that set off fireworks of pain through her head.
Lauren awoke gasping and throwing her hands up defensively. Grey light filtered into the room through the blinds and Lauren was soaked in sweat. Her head most definitely did hurt. Badly. The memory of the men all over her made her sick and she jumped out of the bed and scrambled to the hallway towards where she thought the bathroom would be. She tried to grab at her hair to hold it out of the way only to come up short. It was cut. By the time she had finished throwing up and was leaning over the toilet trying to regain her breath, Eric had appeared wiping sleep out of his eyes. Lauren was slightly relieved to see him at his normal size although she shrunk from his touch when he reached out to steady her. He put his hands up to show that he was backing off.
“Hungry? I can make you something to eat to take some painkillers with so you don’t get so sick again. I’m going to run you into town when you think you’re ready. We can go to the ER if you’d like or maybe the prompt care? But you will have to go in. Looks like you broke your face.” Eric spoke slowly to her, keeping his hands where she could see them. Lauren just nodded at him dumbly. Which sent a new wave of agony through her body and she started to crumble. Eric reached carefully and steadied her with as little physical contact as possible. He led her to the couch and got her sat down, bringing her toast and ibuprofen with water.
Lauren tried to relax into the pain until the ibuprofen kicked in. She tried to disappear into herself, she counted by 13s. Finally after what seemed like forever, the painkillers kicked in taking a very large edge off of her pain. She let out a very audible moan as the pain abated ever so slightly. Her shoulders dropped.
“If we’re going into town and avoiding your husband maybe you should wear some different clothes? I’ve got some guy clothes that will fit you ok.” Eric said, handing her folded jeans and a shirt. Lauren just took them and went into the room to change. Mens jeans seemed to change her entire body shape and she did feel a little safer. Lauren had no idea what she was going to do when it came down to it. She was serious last night about not knowing how to leave him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she had tried once before to end things, he called his son over to help him carry his stuff out and then when his son arrived he had held Lauren still while Daniel beat the shit out of her stomach and explained that he wasn’t leaving. Lauren needed her job, the house was paid off, she had gotten it in the divorce and had worked hard to pay it up over the years, but there were other bills and taxes and at some point Lauren wanted to retire long enough to enjoy it.
The car ride to town was nerve wracking. Lauren had used Eric’s phone to call ahead to the doctors office and let them know she would be there and that she would like to be brought back as soon as possible. Lauren waited until they were back in town to turn her phone back on. It powered up and looked fine until the phone started registering the texts and voicemails that had been coming in since last night. Once upon a time Daniel had reacted very negatively to her not responding to his message fast enough so Lauren had eventually set his ringer as an alarm so she knew right away to pick her phone up. Eric’s car sounded like a national disaster was going on. Lauren thought about throwing it out the window as her panic started to grow. Eric grabbed it from her and shoved it under his leg muffling the sound slightly.
“Sorry.” Lauren mumbled. Eric shrugged and didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road. “I need to stop at the courthouse first to fill out paperwork for an order of protection and get it filed. Then the doctor's office. That way if he figures out where I am they’re already ready for me. “
Lauren checked her phone for any messages not from Daniel and responded to any that needed it and then she turned it back off as they pulled up to the courthouse. Eric handed her his ball cap to hide her face and they casually walked in together. The security guard stopped her and she lifted her hat and faced him head on. He winced and gave her the floor she needed.
“I still haven’t looked, how bad is it?” Lauren asked as they waited for the elevator.
“It’s pretty bad. But it’s your face and it’s probably mostly swelling. “ Eric said without looking at her.
Lauren knew the clerk and judging by the look on her face she ought to hurry to the doctor’s office.
The doctor’s office was it’s own sort of hell. First, the receptionist didn’t want to send her straight back before the nurse came out. Second, Lauren had been in town long enough that she was paranoid every time someone walked in, which she felt she wouldn’t be if they had sent her back like they had discussed. By the time Odette the nurse came out Lauren was wired and Eric had to calm her down just to get her to walk back to the room.
The doctor came in and looked at her and sighed.
“He really got you this time.” Dr. Livingston said, checking the chart.
“I need pictures to add to the rest, I’ve started the proceedings for an OOP and I’d like to bring in all the pictures.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have Etta come in with the camera and give you copies to take with you so if they’re lost somehow you can get more from us. Then I’ll do an exam. Does he know where you are?”
“I’m not sure,Eric here has been driving me around and playing my bodyguard. I’d like to move as quickly as possible. I want to be out of town when he catches wind of the OOP.”
“I’ll have them let me know if he shows up.’
The pictures were as intrusive as ever. Etta smiled sympathetically as she helped Lauren tilt her head in different directions to catch every angle. After the pictures Dr. Livingston did a thorough exam and had an XRay done. Prescribed decent painkillers and did a few stitches on her forehead and somewhere in the back that Lauren hadn’t realized was cut up.
Daniel did show up so Eric and Lauren took off out the back and left, the office kept him busy and promised to give her a call as soon as he left. Eric dropped her off a block from her house to grab her things. Her truck was in the driveway. Lauren walked past it and into the house. Though she hadn’t checked the messages she had assumed that the house would be trashed from one of his fits but it wasn’t. She grabbed a few loose outfits and makeup. Glasses and medicine and a charger for a phone she was afraid to turn on. The office called to let her know he had left 2 minutes before. Her chest began to beat erratically. She couldn’t breathe.
“Notsafenotsafenotsafe.” She said to herself repeatedly to get her moving. She remembered to grab socks and real shoes, she even took extra time to get them on. The plan was to meet Eric 2 streets from the backyard in hopes of avoiding Daniel or someone that knew them and might tell Daniel who she had left with. Lauren locked the back door as she slipped out and was stopped by the next door woman who was entirely too nosey and judgemental. Grace had decided she didn’t like Lauren 20 some odd years ago when Grace had moved in. Daniel on the other hand, well she seemed to adore him. Daniel came over and mowed her yard for free and fixed her broken what the fuck ever was broken that day. Lauren knew for a fact that Grace fed Daniel information whether it was true or just some idea that Grace had gotten through her head.
“Well, what happened? Where are you headed then?” Grace asked quickly, trying to engage Lauren.
“Just a tumble and off to check something for The Jakobi's across the yard. See you later Grace.” Lauren kept walking trying to smile pleasantly.
“Oh wait, I need you to ask Danny to do something for me!” Grace hollered after Lauren, Lauren responded by running faster. Daniel’s truck roared around the corner so Lauren decided to take a different route that would involve going through the woods and meeting Eric somewhere else.
Adrenaline poured through Lauren and she put her all into it until she came out a mile up by the gas station. Lauren went inside and borrowed the landline there to call Eric to meet her at the trail head a little further on. She also bought an energy drink and chugged it before leaving. The rush made her eyes feel like they were going to pop out of her head and she laughed before running back into the woods. She imagined she must look like a mess with the backpack on and her short hair sticking everywhere with her eyes wild from the excess caffeine being chugged so quickly. Lauren kept herself going by imagining that she could hear his truck following her, that she could smell his cologne in the air behind her. Before she could stop herself she was hearing her footsteps and feeling the sensation of her head being pulled back and back into the bumper.
BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam. By the time she had exploded off the trail and into the poorly kept parking lot she had completely forgotten what she was doing.
Lauren dropped her hands on her knees and panted heavily. It was Todd who threw his hands around her waist and held her steady. Lauren surprised herself by screaming and slapping at him before Todd could get her to come out of her stupor. Sobbing, she fell into his chest and bawled. She started crying about the day and then it was the day before and then the year and then her entire marriage and then it was the time her youngest daughter came home from her dad’s early and accused her of always being drunk and looking at her disgustedly. Then it was the divorce and the time she let their older daughter wear lipstick and her ex husband had smacked her in front of them and announced that Lauren was not in fact, the deciding parent on the rules in the house.
It was a very long time before Lauren was done crying. Her face hurt dully in the area that had been so intimate with the bumper, snot covered her cheeks and mouth from the futile wiping it with her sleeves. Her good eye was now also swollen and she could barely see through it now. She fell to her knees and then collapsed the rest of the way to the ground so that getting up was difficult because of how stiff she was now from the odd position. Lauren hobbled with Todd holding her upright to his truck. He went ahead and lifted her up into the seat and helped her buckle. Lauren was too tired to swat his hand away and do it herself. She just relaxed her body back in the seat and let herself try to doze.
They hit the dirt road leading to Eric’s house which woke her up again. She could see more out of her good eye and finally flipped the visor down and braced herself for the reflection she had been avoiding.
Half of her face was a mix of purple and blue, someone had said something about her cheekbone on the right being fractured a little, hey right eyebrow was not only swollen but split in the corner and a small stitch held it. Her right eye was a mix of colors and swollen shut, bruises ran down her jawline and she could see why Dr. Livingston had recommended admitting her to the hospital, Lauren herself might’ve considered it if she hadn't been terrified it would’ve made it easier for Daniel to find her and kill her. Lauren fingered her hair that was cut close to her head and tried to smooth some of the longer strands that had indeed started to poke out at different directions. The left side of her face red and blotchy from crying and it occurred to Lauren that she looked like a very fat bloated version of herself and for some reason it struck her as hysterical and she began to laugh until her stomach hurt and she was doubled over howling with laughter. Todd glanced at her and then the road, flipping back and forth between the road and Lauren. Lauren who had gone from a deep sadness to a manic laughter within a short period of time.
By the time they pulled up to Eric’s, Lauren was still laughing but had calmed a little. Todd patted her thigh and told her to stay put. To go warn Eric she presumed. When he came back he carried her from the car to the bed and Eric stood waiting with pills and water and more toast. Lauren did some concentrated breathing until she could swallow them without choking. The pills seemed to kick in immediately. Her face numbed much more than the ibuprofen had managed earlier. As her mind started to fade in and out Eric told her he had purchased her a new phone and had put her old numbers into her new phone in town and tossed the old phone.
A week later Lauren returned from town at the hearing where Daniel was served with a permanent Order Of Protection good for a year. While her face was still pretty fucked up, she was able to see out of both eyes now. The judge had seen her face and granted the order. Daniel had been arrested and would be held for awhile but she had stayed with Eric for a few more days so he could keep an eye on her mental state. Lauren was having trouble returning to her home, she had been placed on a sort of leave at work, Lauren was unsure if they could legally do that after a domestic assault but she wasn’t in the mindset to argue so she just gave up.
“You think you’re safe to go home tomorrow? “ Eric asked Lauren as they set up a fire outside.
“I think so. I don’t know if I really want to stay there anymore.” Lauren admitted. She stacked some more wood off to the side so they wouldn’t have to get back up as often.
“I have a friend who owns some cabins in the woods, he rents them out. There’s 12 or so I think, anyway he recently lost his caretaker and has been looking for someone who can stay up there year round and clean the cabins and handle the rentals. It pays well, obviously you have your own cabin to live in.” Eric passed her a joint that Lauren accepted.
“I’ll think about it.” Lauren said before breathing in and relaxing back into her camping chair and drifting away.
Lauren finished setting the table with her son, Greyson. Her daughters Cora and Audrey, were supposed to be here soon. Liam, Greyson’s 5 month old wailed from the living room and Lauren waved at Greyson to let her go tend to him. Lauren picked up the wailing baby and put her nose on top of his head, remembering the newborn smell. Her youngest was Audrey and she was 23. Liam settled as soon as he was picked up. Lauren thought of how much she was going to miss her grandkids. She lifted him up so she could blow on his baby tummy and he squealed with delight.
“I think the girls are pulling in now.” Greyson said coming in with a bottle. Liam caught sight of Daddy and his bottle and flailed toward them. Lauren handed her grandson to her own son and kissed his forehead.
“I am so proud of you. I don’t think I know any single dads who have their kids full time.” Lauren brushed Greysons hair from his forehead and smiled.
The girls came in, Audrey carrying Cora’s 3 year old son and then Cora behind her dragging an 8 year old girl whose eyes were locked on a tablet screen.
“Diana Renee, turn it off for a few minutes and walk. Jesus. You’re going to trip, say hi to grandma.” Cora said in a surly tone looking exhausted. Her face looked rounder and Lauren had a feeling Cora was pregnant again. She had the look and Lauren felt a pang that she wasn’t going to be around this time, and that she had already missed quite a bit of time. It hadn’t taken any of the kids long to catch onto Daniel being controlling and possessive and even though Lauren had argued for her kids being over every Sunday the children on their own had slowly found excuses to quit coming around the house.Not that Audrey had needed much push. For whatever reason Audrey and Lauren had never seen eye to eye. Lauren blamed her father but it was more than that too, a drive to be independent. Diana and Clayton hugged Lauren fiercely and she sat on the floor with them crawling on her while they told her anything interesting they could think of. The bruises on Lauren’s face had faded quite a bit but the kids kept looking at them without saying anything, biting their lips. Lauren assumed Cora had instructed them not to ask. Lauren had purposely waited to bring her kids over to make her announcement until her face looked better and wouldn’t scare anyone. After a while the kids ran out into the backyard to play.
“So is he really gone?” Audrey asked as the sliding door closed. Lauren sighed pretending not to notice the tone in her voice.
“Yes. He was arrested. The pictures I had taken at the doctor’s office helped. I know you guys weren’t impressed he was here as long as he was but I was working on it. “ That of course was a lie. She had snuck off to the doctors after he had beaten her and had it documented so that they would have a suspect if he killed her but the kids didn’t need to know that. At least this way they seemed to retain a little respect for their flakey mom who brought the evil villain into their lives.
“I’m just glad you’re safe mom. We were worried. Especially after you called me that night.” Cora said rocking Liam who was starting to doze off after his bottle.
“That’s why I called you guys over actually. After that happened I did some thinking. It’s just me in this big house and after everything that happened I decided to sell the house and move. I took a job the next state over up in the mountains. I’m a caretaker for cabins that get rented out to hunters and families, I’ll be living there.” Lauren smiled and started passing a brochure for the company and the area to each of her children.
“What the fuck mom? You can’t move, or at the very least you can’t sell the house. We grew up here.” Audrey said loudly, tears forming already. Lauren remembered the time her friends had all gone out for a girls weekend and Greyson had spiked a fever and Lauren had to stay home to take care of him, how suffocating it had felt to be their mother and have no life of her own. But the kids were in their twenties now, not little. They didn’t need her the same way.
“Eventually Daniel will be released and I would like to be gone when he is. I would like to live somewhere that I can make new, happier memories. You guys don’t need me as much and I’m only an hour away. I can still take grand kids when you need me and I’m not so far that I can’t come over for lunch. Plus I can offer you guys a pretty good discount in the off season. Imagine Christmas in the mountains and everyone has their own cabin to stay in instead of arguing over a bedroom.” Lauren said, hoping no one would note that it had been a very long time since anyone had spent the night here and they’d never really fought over space.
“I think it’s a good idea mom. We’ll miss the house but you’re right.” Cora said glaring at her sister. “You deserve to move forward.”
“I can help you move up there. Are you taking your furniture or is the furniture provided already? Is it safe up there? Who will come check on you? I don’t want something to happen to you and you’re stranded out there for days with no help. “ Greyson asked, looking concerned.
“I’m not sure, we can set up a system so you know I’m ok.” Lauren said pleased with her son’s concern. “As far as furniture, you guys can pick anything you want, I’m selling the rest. I’ll keep some of the dishes and my baking stuff. Plus the photograph albums, I’ll get rid of everything else.”
“Does Dad know?” Autumn asked accusingly.
“I haven’t told him, it’s really not any of his business. Nothing in this house belongs to him and his name hasn’t been on the house in at least 15 years.”
“This is our house too.” Audrey argued
“No it really isn’t anymore. You haven’t lived here in at least 5 years.”
“Audrey, chill, it’s not that big of a deal.” Cora warned. Lauren began to feel she was missing something.
“Well, you could rent it out to someone instead of getting rid of it. You could always use the extra income.” Audrey argued, looking around at everyone.
“I’d make a lot more money selling the house than I would renting it out. If there were a repair to be made I don’t want to be responsible. I’m too old to deal with all of that.” Lauren waved her hand around the house gesturing at the idea of all the work there would need to be done. “Besides someone has already made an offer, I’m fairly certain I’m going to accept it.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Yes, she can. Knock it off. She doesn’t want to live here all alone.” Greyson retorted.
The 3 of them argued together at each other and Lauren sank back into her recliner helplessly. A thought occurred to her.
“Audrey are you angry you’re losing a piece of your childhood or a piece of your inheritance?” Lauren asked icily. Audrey’s face turned red and Cora looked at the window desperate not to make eye contact. Greyson grabbed Liam and started fussing over him.”Ah. I see, and you all 3 have discussed it.”
“No, not exactly like that. Dad had a scare 2 years ago and he was faced with being put in a home for awhile. We didn’t know how he was going to pay for it, we talked about selling his house and that was sort of how it came up, renting instead of selling I mean.” Greyson muttered.
“Not to keep it until he died so the money or the house went to us, but to protect him. We naturally discussed you as well and different scenarios. Then when we started to really worry Daniel was going to kill you, we were worried about him taking possession of the house and everything in it.” Cora explained a little more. “Obviously all THREE of us want you to do what makes you feel the happiest and safest.”
Audrey stared at the wall.
“I have a lot of happy memories here of all 3 of you. I brought you all home from the hospital through that door. I nursed you all back to health when you were sick and sang you lullabies in this room. I listened to you talk about your days in the kitchen, and when your dad moved out we all sat in my room with the big TV and watched movies all day because he wasn’t here to tell us it was wrong. I potty trained you all in the bathrooms here. I taught you to walk and speak here.” Lauren wiped at her eyes remembering them running through. “But over there in that corner was where your dad smacked me because I told Cora she could wear lipstick. And I was standing on the stairs when he came out of the bedroom with his suitcase in hand, telling me he was leaving. It was in the kitchen where I got the call that my mother died. That was the door frame Daniel's son leaned against as he held me up while Daniel pummeled my midsection until I decided that I didn’t want him to move out after all. I just want to start over. I’m allowed to do that. I gave my entire life to raise you guys and no one worked harder than me to keep us afloat. My time is now and I’m taking it. “
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“OPEN UP!” She screamed as she pounded on the door. Lauren could feel the general sensation of her hand resisting the door. It would more than likely hurt at some point when she came off the adrenaline.
Then, the door did open. Daniel Anderson took up most of the frame and he was angry. Lauren could hear the other girl screaming inside but couldn’t seem to make out what she was saying. Her heart stopped as she looked into Daniels face. He was Angry. The kind of angry that meant he was going to hurt her, whether anyone could see it or not. Lauren backed up from the door to avoid being pulled in the room but Daniel followed her out.
“What are you doing here?” Daniel asked, his voice was even and low.
“I got 3 calls about you being here with some whore.” Lauren retorted. She had started edging towards her car at this point, seemingly just now realizing she had made a mistake in coming here. Her heart seemed to stop altogether as he reached for her.
Lauren ducked but he caught her by her hair, winding the strands in between his fingers and yanking her face so that her ear was next to her mouth.
“What did you call her?” He whispered through clenched teeth. Lauren remained mute at this point. She felt her heart speed up and she tried to figure out how to get out of this. He’d never hit her in public. If she could remind him where they were… “I asked you a question Bitch.
If Lauren had thought about answering at that point, she wasn’t given much of a chance. He swung her head up and then forward, the momentum knocking her to the ground. Then he kicked her, pain blossomed through her midsection stunning her and she had trouble catching her breath. His hands came back down and he began throwing her face into the bumper of his bright red truck. After a minute he threw her face in a different direction and she could taste gravel.
“Apologize.” Daniel said in a warning voice. Lauren tried to stand but he mimicked grabbing at her and she shrunk back. “Apologize to her for calling her a whore.”
Lauren said nothing, somewhat in shock and mostly in pain. She could taste blood and felt it running down her face. This time he did grab her by the arm and yanked her up in one movement.
“I Said. Apologize. “ his words were clear.
Lauren did. Stuttering out an I’m sorry in the other woman’s direction.
“You best be home when I get back.” With that Daniel turned around and went back in the room.
Lauren assessed her options but she couldn’t seem to think. She reached into her car and pulled out her purse and started walking. She couldn’t see out of one eye hardly at all and her head hurt in the back. Lauren knew that he had pulled out a significant amount of hair. She thought she recalled some sharp pain as her face was pulled back from the bumper but she couldn’t remember what had happened in any sort of order.
It was at least 2 miles to her friend’s house. Lauren knocked on the door and when Natalie opened the door Lauren pushed her way in. Natalie hissed as she looked at Lauren.
“What the fuck happened?” Natalie gingerly touched her eye, or at least Laurent thought it was the area heer eye should be in. She hadn’t realized how numb she’d been getting here until she wasn’t numb anymore and the throbbing started up. Todd, Natalie’s husband came from the bedrooms and audibly gasped as well. Lauren headed for the hair salon in the back as Natalie whispered to Todd.
Natalie found Lauren in the salon, lights on and sitting in the chair.
“I’ve got enough here for a haircut but I’ll have to get back to you on the last minute/middle of the night fee. I need it all chopped off if you would. I know he ripped a bit in the back so it’s uneven anyway. Honestly it’s irresponsible to keep my hair this long anyway,do people still do that Kate plus Eight hair? The may I speak to your manager hair?” Lauren had trouble forming the words but she kept going hoping that Natalie understood her. She purposefully faced away from the mirror.
“I can cut your hair for sure. Wouldn’t you rather go to a hospital?” Natalie asked carefully playing with Lauren’s hair. Lauren shookher head quickly and immediately regretted it. Todd came in the room with an ice pack and a washcloth. Natalie filled up a bowl of water and started carefully patting away dried blood and finding the actual cuts. There was water and ibuprofen with a few tylenol mixed in, Lauren had trouble with it.
Natalie cut her hair silently. Working around one spot and then going back to it before announcing that it was as good as it was going to get there until the massive cut healed.
“You want to stay here tonight babe?” Natalie asked as she once more took to wiping her face from the still open cuts.
“No I couldn't do that to you, he told me to go home and when he finds that I’m not there… I left my car at the motel. '' Lauren knew on some level she had and knew there had been a reason, but now that the adrenaline was amping down and quickly she had no idea what she was going to do now.
“The motel?”
“Yeah, he met that girl..that one… Beth, that’s her name. They were up there and I had 3 people call me to tell me his truck was there. I just lost it and drove up there. I didn’t expect this to happen. I figured he’d be caught and apologetic.”
“That fucking bitch, I know her. She has no shame. Anyone gives her a little attention and she thinks they’re married. Tells everyone about it. She smells to high heaven too.” Natalie said incensed.
“Well I got up there and confronted him and he did this until I apologi-apolo-. “ Lauren felt sick suddenly and didn’t bother to finish. It hurt more to talk anyway.
“Why don’t you kick him out? It’s your house, the bills are in your name, you survived years without him before so it’s not like you need to worry about money. Serve him with eviction papers and go hide out somewhere until the month is up. Then bar him from the house.”
“I can’t afford a vacation and last time I tried to kick him out, it didn’t go well.I’ve got nothing in savings or otherwise. I can’t stay with anyone because he’ll come find me and hurt someone else in the process. My kids are already going to be pissed about this and if I disappear it's them he’ll hassle.I can’t afford the medical bills if I go in for this and I can’t afford the next beating if I don’t go home and get there before he does. Plus he knows exactly where I work.”
“You aren’t going to have a job if you're dead and he’s going to kill you.. At this point we’re just waiting for when. I can help you. I can loan you money, Fuck, I’ll just give you the god damn money. “
“We both know you don’t have any more than I do. “ Lauren said leaning back
“Well, you aren’t going home tonight, call your kids and warn them that he’ll be calling and to get a police car out there or something. I’ll call Lottie and explain that you are taking a few days off, and you most certainly are taking a few days off ma’am. You can’t go in looking like that, Lottie’ll kick you back out as soon as you show up. I know where you can go for now.”
Lauren went out back, wincing as she lit up a cigarette and took a few good drags before calling her oldest daughter and explaining that Daniel was going to be angry and to be on the lookout and if she could please call her siblings because she just did not have the energy tonight. Lauren promised to go to the hospital, figuring she’d end up going at some point and assured her daughter that she would be fine. After hanging up Todd got her attention at the edge of the yard and gestured toward the car. Lauren got up and limped over to it to climb in and wondering why the actual fuck she had worn flip flops tonight for this. .
It was a long drive out of town and into the mountains. Lauren apologized profusely every time she looked at the car clock. Todd waved his hand dismissively and handed her a fresh ice pack.
“We’re going to see my cousin, he lives up in the woods doing work for the park. He’s pretty far out there and doesn’t come into town much so Daniel won’t know about him. I’d turn your phone off as a precaution though. GPS trackers and whatnot.”
Lauren had already turned her phone off and felt herself dozing off. Unsure of how long she had slept she was awoken by the car stopping. Todd told her to wait where she was while he talked to his cousin. Lauren wondered what she was going to do if this guy didn’t let her stay here tonight. A few minutes later Todd was back and helping her hobble inside. The other man looked like he’d been woken up. He looked Lauren up and down and then waved Todd away. Todd slumped his shoulders and walked back to the car.
“I’m Eric, you’ll get my room. I’ve got some shirts on the bed to sleep in. The dog might insist on laying with you don’t mind dogs too much. I’ll be right out here on the couch if you need anything, bathroom is over here. I can get you a water and some more ibuprofen.” Eric seemed nice. Lauren worried that Daniel would find her out here with another man and finish what he started at the motel. The motel that seemed to be eons ago. Lauren felt her knees start to buckle and she swayed. Eric grabbed her and helped to the bed. Lauren rolled over and managed to get under the blankets before passing out.
Lauren came to hazily and found that the man here was in the room, he seemed taller as in a lot taller.
“I just want to touch you.” Eric slurred out. He swayed awkwardly and seemed to float to the bed, his hands grabbed at her. Lauren was frozen and then noticed to her horror that her husband was right behind him. Daniel came around to the other side of the bed smiling as if he’d known all along that she would be here. Lauren pulled her legs back and tried to scoot back into the headboard as the men got on the bed and started pulling her legs apart and shoving their palms into her collarbone to push her back. Lauren cried out screaming at them to stop as they started biting at her hips and inner thighs. Then they were laughing as they bit into her and pulled her skin off. Eric moved his mouth to her face and bit into her forehead and that set off fireworks of pain through her head.
Lauren awoke gasping and throwing her hands up defensively. Grey light filtered into the room through the blinds and Lauren was soaked in sweat. Her head most definitely did hurt. Badly. The memory of the men all over her made her sick and she jumped out of the bed and scrambled to the hallway towards where she thought the bathroom would be. She tried to grab at her hair to hold it out of the way only to come up short. It was cut. By the time she had finished throwing up and was leaning over the toilet trying to regain her breath, Eric had appeared wiping sleep out of his eyes. Lauren was slightly relieved to see him at his normal size although she shrunk from his touch when he reached out to steady her. He put his hands up to show that he was backing off.
“Hungry? I can make you something to eat to take some painkillers with so you don’t get so sick again. I’m going to run you into town when you think you’re ready. We can go to the ER if you’d like or maybe the prompt care? But you will have to go in. Looks like you broke your face.” Eric spoke slowly to her, keeping his hands where she could see them. Lauren just nodded at him dumbly. Which sent a new wave of agony through her body and she started to crumble. Eric reached carefully and steadied her with as little physical contact as possible. He led her to the couch and got her sat down, bringing her toast and ibuprofen with water.
Lauren tried to relax into the pain until the ibuprofen kicked in. She tried to disappear into herself, she counted by 13s. Finally after what seemed like forever, the painkillers kicked in taking a very large edge off of her pain. She let out a very audible moan as the pain abated ever so slightly. Her shoulders dropped.
“If we’re going into town and avoiding your husband maybe you should wear some different clothes? I’ve got some guy clothes that will fit you ok.” Eric said, handing her folded jeans and a shirt. Lauren just took them and went into the room to change. Mens jeans seemed to change her entire body shape and she did feel a little safer. Lauren had no idea what she was going to do when it came down to it. She was serious last night about not knowing how to leave him. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, she had tried once before to end things, he called his son over to help him carry his stuff out and then when his son arrived he had held Lauren still while Daniel beat the shit out of her stomach and explained that he wasn’t leaving. Lauren needed her job, the house was paid off, she had gotten it in the divorce and had worked hard to pay it up over the years, but there were other bills and taxes and at some point Lauren wanted to retire long enough to enjoy it.
The car ride to town was nerve wracking. Lauren had used Eric’s phone to call ahead to the doctors office and let them know she would be there and that she would like to be brought back as soon as possible. Lauren waited until they were back in town to turn her phone back on. It powered up and looked fine until the phone started registering the texts and voicemails that had been coming in since last night. Once upon a time Daniel had reacted very negatively to her not responding to his message fast enough so Lauren had eventually set his ringer as an alarm so she knew right away to pick her phone up. Eric’s car sounded like a national disaster was going on. Lauren thought about throwing it out the window as her panic started to grow. Eric grabbed it from her and shoved it under his leg muffling the sound slightly.
“Sorry.” Lauren mumbled. Eric shrugged and didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes on the road. “I need to stop at the courthouse first to fill out paperwork for an order of protection and get it filed. Then the doctor's office. That way if he figures out where I am they’re already ready for me. “
Lauren checked her phone for any messages not from Daniel and responded to any that needed it and then she turned it back off as they pulled up to the courthouse. Eric handed her his ball cap to hide her face and they casually walked in together. The security guard stopped her and she lifted her hat and faced him head on. He winced and gave her the floor she needed.
“I still haven’t looked, how bad is it?” Lauren asked as they waited for the elevator.
“It’s pretty bad. But it’s your face and it’s probably mostly swelling. “ Eric said without looking at her.
Lauren knew the clerk and judging by the look on her face she ought to hurry to the doctor’s office.
The doctor’s office was it’s own sort of hell. First, the receptionist didn’t want to send her straight back before the nurse came out. Second, Lauren had been in town long enough that she was paranoid every time someone walked in, which she felt she wouldn’t be if they had sent her back like they had discussed. By the time Odette the nurse came out Lauren was wired and Eric had to calm her down just to get her to walk back to the room.
The doctor came in and looked at her and sighed.
“He really got you this time.” Dr. Livingston said, checking the chart.
“I need pictures to add to the rest, I’ve started the proceedings for an OOP and I’d like to bring in all the pictures.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have Etta come in with the camera and give you copies to take with you so if they’re lost somehow you can get more from us. Then I’ll do an exam. Does he know where you are?”
“I’m not sure,Eric here has been driving me around and playing my bodyguard. I’d like to move as quickly as possible. I want to be out of town when he catches wind of the OOP.”
“I’ll have them let me know if he shows up.’
The pictures were as intrusive as ever. Etta smiled sympathetically as she helped Lauren tilt her head in different directions to catch every angle. After the pictures Dr. Livingston did a thorough exam and had an XRay done. Prescribed decent painkillers and did a few stitches on her forehead and somewhere in the back that Lauren hadn’t realized was cut up.
Daniel did show up so Eric and Lauren took off out the back and left, the office kept him busy and promised to give her a call as soon as he left. Eric dropped her off a block from her house to grab her things. Her truck was in the driveway. Lauren walked past it and into the house. Though she hadn’t checked the messages she had assumed that the house would be trashed from one of his fits but it wasn’t. She grabbed a few loose outfits and makeup. Glasses and medicine and a charger for a phone she was afraid to turn on. The office called to let her know he had left 2 minutes before. Her chest began to beat erratically. She couldn’t breathe.
“Notsafenotsafenotsafe.” She said to herself repeatedly to get her moving. She remembered to grab socks and real shoes, she even took extra time to get them on. The plan was to meet Eric 2 streets from the backyard in hopes of avoiding Daniel or someone that knew them and might tell Daniel who she had left with. Lauren locked the back door as she slipped out and was stopped by the next door woman who was entirely too nosey and judgemental. Grace had decided she didn’t like Lauren 20 some odd years ago when Grace had moved in. Daniel on the other hand, well she seemed to adore him. Daniel came over and mowed her yard for free and fixed her broken what the fuck ever was broken that day. Lauren knew for a fact that Grace fed Daniel information whether it was true or just some idea that Grace had gotten through her head.
“Well, what happened? Where are you headed then?” Grace asked quickly, trying to engage Lauren.
“Just a tumble and off to check something for The Jakobi's across the yard. See you later Grace.” Lauren kept walking trying to smile pleasantly.
“Oh wait, I need you to ask Danny to do something for me!” Grace hollered after Lauren, Lauren responded by running faster. Daniel’s truck roared around the corner so Lauren decided to take a different route that would involve going through the woods and meeting Eric somewhere else.
Adrenaline poured through Lauren and she put her all into it until she came out a mile up by the gas station. Lauren went inside and borrowed the landline there to call Eric to meet her at the trail head a little further on. She also bought an energy drink and chugged it before leaving. The rush made her eyes feel like they were going to pop out of her head and she laughed before running back into the woods. She imagined she must look like a mess with the backpack on and her short hair sticking everywhere with her eyes wild from the excess caffeine being chugged so quickly. Lauren kept herself going by imagining that she could hear his truck following her, that she could smell his cologne in the air behind her. Before she could stop herself she was hearing her footsteps and feeling the sensation of her head being pulled back and back into the bumper.
BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam BAM bam. By the time she had exploded off the trail and into the poorly kept parking lot she had completely forgotten what she was doing.
Lauren dropped her hands on her knees and panted heavily. It was Todd who threw his hands around her waist and held her steady. Lauren surprised herself by screaming and slapping at him before Todd could get her to come out of her stupor. Sobbing, she fell into his chest and bawled. She started crying about the day and then it was the day before and then the year and then her entire marriage and then it was the time her youngest daughter came home from her dad’s early and accused her of always being drunk and looking at her disgustedly. Then it was the divorce and the time she let their older daughter wear lipstick and her ex husband had smacked her in front of them and announced that Lauren was not in fact, the deciding parent on the rules in the house.
It was a very long time before Lauren was done crying. Her face hurt dully in the area that had been so intimate with the bumper, snot covered her cheeks and mouth from the futile wiping it with her sleeves. Her good eye was now also swollen and she could barely see through it now. She fell to her knees and then collapsed the rest of the way to the ground so that getting up was difficult because of how stiff she was now from the odd position. Lauren hobbled with Todd holding her upright to his truck. He went ahead and lifted her up into the seat and helped her buckle. Lauren was too tired to swat his hand away and do it herself. She just relaxed her body back in the seat and let herself try to doze.
They hit the dirt road leading to Eric’s house which woke her up again. She could see more out of her good eye and finally flipped the visor down and braced herself for the reflection she had been avoiding.
Half of her face was a mix of purple and blue, someone had said something about her cheekbone on the right being fractured a little, hey right eyebrow was not only swollen but split in the corner and a small stitch held it. Her right eye was a mix of colors and swollen shut, bruises ran down her jawline and she could see why Dr. Livingston had recommended admitting her to the hospital, Lauren herself might’ve considered it if she hadn't been terrified it would’ve made it easier for Daniel to find her and kill her. Lauren fingered her hair that was cut close to her head and tried to smooth some of the longer strands that had indeed started to poke out at different directions. The left side of her face red and blotchy from crying and it occurred to Lauren that she looked like a very fat bloated version of herself and for some reason it struck her as hysterical and she began to laugh until her stomach hurt and she was doubled over howling with laughter. Todd glanced at her and then the road, flipping back and forth between the road and Lauren. Lauren who had gone from a deep sadness to a manic laughter within a short period of time.
By the time they pulled up to Eric’s, Lauren was still laughing but had calmed a little. Todd patted her thigh and told her to stay put. To go warn Eric she presumed. When he came back he carried her from the car to the bed and Eric stood waiting with pills and water and more toast. Lauren did some concentrated breathing until she could swallow them without choking. The pills seemed to kick in immediately. Her face numbed much more than the ibuprofen had managed earlier. As her mind started to fade in and out Eric told her he had purchased her a new phone and had put her old numbers into her new phone in town and tossed the old phone.
A week later Lauren returned from town at the hearing where Daniel was served with a permanent Order Of Protection good for a year. While her face was still pretty fucked up, she was able to see out of both eyes now. The judge had seen her face and granted the order. Daniel had been arrested and would be held for awhile but she had stayed with Eric for a few more days so he could keep an eye on her mental state. Lauren was having trouble returning to her home, she had been placed on a sort of leave at work, Lauren was unsure if they could legally do that after a domestic assault but she wasn’t in the mindset to argue so she just gave up.
“You think you’re safe to go home tomorrow? “ Eric asked Lauren as they set up a fire outside.
“I think so. I don’t know if I really want to stay there anymore.” Lauren admitted. She stacked some more wood off to the side so they wouldn’t have to get back up as often.
“I have a friend who owns some cabins in the woods, he rents them out. There’s 12 or so I think, anyway he recently lost his caretaker and has been looking for someone who can stay up there year round and clean the cabins and handle the rentals. It pays well, obviously you have your own cabin to live in.” Eric passed her a joint that Lauren accepted.
“I’ll think about it.” Lauren said before breathing in and relaxing back into her camping chair and drifting away.
Lauren finished setting the table with her son, Greyson. Her daughters Cora and Audrey, were supposed to be here soon. Liam, Greyson’s 5 month old wailed from the living room and Lauren waved at Greyson to let her go tend to him. Lauren picked up the wailing baby and put her nose on top of his head, remembering the newborn smell. Her youngest was Audrey and she was 23. Liam settled as soon as he was picked up. Lauren thought of how much she was going to miss her grandkids. She lifted him up so she could blow on his baby tummy and he squealed with delight.
“I think the girls are pulling in now.” Greyson said coming in with a bottle. Liam caught sight of Daddy and his bottle and flailed toward them. Lauren handed her grandson to her own son and kissed his forehead.
“I am so proud of you. I don’t think I know any single dads who have their kids full time.” Lauren brushed Greysons hair from his forehead and smiled.
The girls came in, Audrey carrying Cora’s 3 year old son and then Cora behind her dragging an 8 year old girl whose eyes were locked on a tablet screen.
“Diana Renee, turn it off for a few minutes and walk. Jesus. You’re going to trip, say hi to grandma.” Cora said in a surly tone looking exhausted. Her face looked rounder and Lauren had a feeling Cora was pregnant again. She had the look and Lauren felt a pang that she wasn’t going to be around this time, and that she had already missed quite a bit of time. It hadn’t taken any of the kids long to catch onto Daniel being controlling and possessive and even though Lauren had argued for her kids being over every Sunday the children on their own had slowly found excuses to quit coming around the house.Not that Audrey had needed much push. For whatever reason Audrey and Lauren had never seen eye to eye. Lauren blamed her father but it was more than that too, a drive to be independent. Diana and Clayton hugged Lauren fiercely and she sat on the floor with them crawling on her while they told her anything interesting they could think of. The bruises on Lauren’s face had faded quite a bit but the kids kept looking at them without saying anything, biting their lips. Lauren assumed Cora had instructed them not to ask. Lauren had purposely waited to bring her kids over to make her announcement until her face looked better and wouldn’t scare anyone. After a while the kids ran out into the backyard to play.
“So is he really gone?” Audrey asked as the sliding door closed. Lauren sighed pretending not to notice the tone in her voice.
“Yes. He was arrested. The pictures I had taken at the doctor’s office helped. I know you guys weren’t impressed he was here as long as he was but I was working on it. “ That of course was a lie. She had snuck off to the doctors after he had beaten her and had it documented so that they would have a suspect if he killed her but the kids didn’t need to know that. At least this way they seemed to retain a little respect for their flakey mom who brought the evil villain into their lives.
“I’m just glad you’re safe mom. We were worried. Especially after you called me that night.” Cora said rocking Liam who was starting to doze off after his bottle.
“That’s why I called you guys over actually. After that happened I did some thinking. It’s just me in this big house and after everything that happened I decided to sell the house and move. I took a job the next state over up in the mountains. I’m a caretaker for cabins that get rented out to hunters and families, I’ll be living there.” Lauren smiled and started passing a brochure for the company and the area to each of her children.
“What the fuck mom? You can’t move, or at the very least you can’t sell the house. We grew up here.” Audrey said loudly, tears forming already. Lauren remembered the time her friends had all gone out for a girls weekend and Greyson had spiked a fever and Lauren had to stay home to take care of him, how suffocating it had felt to be their mother and have no life of her own. But the kids were in their twenties now, not little. They didn’t need her the same way.
“Eventually Daniel will be released and I would like to be gone when he is. I would like to live somewhere that I can make new, happier memories. You guys don’t need me as much and I’m only an hour away. I can still take grand kids when you need me and I’m not so far that I can’t come over for lunch. Plus I can offer you guys a pretty good discount in the off season. Imagine Christmas in the mountains and everyone has their own cabin to stay in instead of arguing over a bedroom.” Lauren said, hoping no one would note that it had been a very long time since anyone had spent the night here and they’d never really fought over space.
“I think it’s a good idea mom. We’ll miss the house but you’re right.” Cora said glaring at her sister. “You deserve to move forward.”
“I can help you move up there. Are you taking your furniture or is the furniture provided already? Is it safe up there? Who will come check on you? I don’t want something to happen to you and you’re stranded out there for days with no help. “ Greyson asked, looking concerned.
“I’m not sure, we can set up a system so you know I’m ok.” Lauren said pleased with her son’s concern. “As far as furniture, you guys can pick anything you want, I’m selling the rest. I’ll keep some of the dishes and my baking stuff. Plus the photograph albums, I’ll get rid of everything else.”
“Does Dad know?” Autumn asked accusingly.
“I haven’t told him, it’s really not any of his business. Nothing in this house belongs to him and his name hasn’t been on the house in at least 15 years.”
“This is our house too.” Audrey argued
“No it really isn’t anymore. You haven’t lived here in at least 5 years.”
“Audrey, chill, it’s not that big of a deal.” Cora warned. Lauren began to feel she was missing something.
“Well, you could rent it out to someone instead of getting rid of it. You could always use the extra income.” Audrey argued, looking around at everyone.
“I’d make a lot more money selling the house than I would renting it out. If there were a repair to be made I don’t want to be responsible. I’m too old to deal with all of that.” Lauren waved her hand around the house gesturing at the idea of all the work there would need to be done. “Besides someone has already made an offer, I’m fairly certain I’m going to accept it.”
“You can’t do that!”
“Yes, she can. Knock it off. She doesn’t want to live here all alone.” Greyson retorted.
The 3 of them argued together at each other and Lauren sank back into her recliner helplessly. A thought occurred to her.
“Audrey are you angry you’re losing a piece of your childhood or a piece of your inheritance?” Lauren asked icily. Audrey’s face turned red and Cora looked at the window desperate not to make eye contact. Greyson grabbed Liam and started fussing over him.”Ah. I see, and you all 3 have discussed it.”
“No, not exactly like that. Dad had a scare 2 years ago and he was faced with being put in a home for awhile. We didn’t know how he was going to pay for it, we talked about selling his house and that was sort of how it came up, renting instead of selling I mean.” Greyson muttered.
“Not to keep it until he died so the money or the house went to us, but to protect him. We naturally discussed you as well and different scenarios. Then when we started to really worry Daniel was going to kill you, we were worried about him taking possession of the house and everything in it.” Cora explained a little more. “Obviously all THREE of us want you to do what makes you feel the happiest and safest.”
Audrey stared at the wall.
“I have a lot of happy memories here of all 3 of you. I brought you all home from the hospital through that door. I nursed you all back to health when you were sick and sang you lullabies in this room. I listened to you talk about your days in the kitchen, and when your dad moved out we all sat in my room with the big TV and watched movies all day because he wasn’t here to tell us it was wrong. I potty trained you all in the bathrooms here. I taught you to walk and speak here.” Lauren wiped at her eyes remembering them running through. “But over there in that corner was where your dad smacked me because I told Cora she could wear lipstick. And I was standing on the stairs when he came out of the bedroom with his suitcase in hand, telling me he was leaving. It was in the kitchen where I got the call that my mother died. That was the door frame Daniel's son leaned against as he held me up while Daniel pummeled my midsection until I decided that I didn’t want him to move out after all. I just want to start over. I’m allowed to do that. I gave my entire life to raise you guys and no one worked harder than me to keep us afloat. My time is now and I’m taking it. “
2024.05.06 02:42 Storms_Wrath The Human Artificial Hivemind Part 508: Fire In The Void
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Fleet Commander Annabelle Weber raised the shields of the dreadnaught as she approached. All across the Alliance Defense Fleet's mental network, psychic amplifiers were activated in tandem with shields. Thousands of small bubbles surrounded the soldiers and crews in the mindscape while Annabelle herself donned a mental device meant to strengthen her even more. It had been delivered directly by Brey herself in a massive expenditure of energy and likely was another classified project.
This far out, Annabelle had less access than usual. There was also less contact with Phoebe than usual, likely due to politics. But out here, that didn't matter. All that mattered were her crews, her ships, and her soldiers. Past that, the Cawlarians. Tenrah's fleet had started to move away from her, as the Admiral drew most of the fire from Siran's fleets.
Meanwhile, Annabelle and the Battle Planner were working on the planet crackers. There were five of them, luckily out of position by a few scouting attacks that had been sent against them a few hours prior. It had helped to ensure Annabelle and the Battle Planner wouldn't get wiped by the beams before even entering the battlefield.
They'd been deployed faster than expected. Phoebe's sabotage drones hadn't been able to destroy them quickly enough before being detected. The capability was unexpected, but it wasn't entirely implausible. She hadn't told the Heptarchies anything of the war plans, and neither had Phoebe or Tenrah. And the Battle Planner had almost no contact with them after their constant disparagement of his religion.
He'd gotten over it, though, and was stable. Hundreds of thousands of mine sweeper vessels, little more than drones with massive but flimsy shields, started moving forward. They cleared any stealth mines, antimatter pockets, and any other natural surprises that waited for them. The planet crackers themselves loomed large in the distance, but only through the optical sensors.
The battle would take a long time, and Siran's forces were being hit by a large portion of a second fleet. The Cawlarians had suddenly pulled off border patrol for a pincer attack. It risked the Heptarchy invading, but Annabelle couldn't stop that.
If Kawtyahtnakal had made the decision, he had plans in place. It wasn't a question. Annabelle checked the vectors, the networks, and the inventories of her fleet again. Everything was nearly at 100%, with only the FTL fuel reserves somewhat lower. Luckily, hydrogen compression wasn't exactly difficult in the modern age. Specialized interfaces told Annabelle that several smaller fleets of the High Kingdom were closing in, but they wouldn't arrive before they were already in the thick of battle.
Explosions rippled on the distant shield fronts of the mine sweeper drones. Corrosive acids and even smaller cutting drones came out, along with several heavy magnetic field bursts. Many of the drones were disabled, but the Battle Planner's strategy had paid off. His fleet took almost no damage, and only a few dozen cruisers and frigates were even hit. They shrugged off the damage easily, though they did pull back from the front of the formation.
The fleets had adopted a design that allowed for easy repositioning and retreat. It took tactics similar to the old British musket lines, only for actual ships instead of people. The caveat to that was only small ships could really turn quickly enough for the strategy to be effective. Their broadside guns, less capable than the dorsal and spinal guns but still powerful in their own right, also helped with maintaining the barrage of fire pouring down on the thick shields that were rapidly spinning up around the planet crackers.
Several ships filled with explosives and absolutely covered in heavy metals zoomed into the system from outside the battle. Annabelle could only track them by calculations. The ships themselves were empty of crew, with only a few androids piloting them. Phoebe's suicide vessels were ships that had been towed by Alcubierre drives, emerging from the bent bubbles in such a fashion that they had a massive relative velocity to 'normal' space.
In fact, thanks to some very complicated effects, they had been accelerated to a very close percentage of the speed of light. But in a space battle, the speed of light was still somewhat slow. Even with the presence of tens of thousands of overlapping Q-comms suppression fields, the Kingdom put up a good defense. Invisible ships detonated in front of the attacks, their own versions of speeding space drives detonating in a violent and bright fashion, creating ruins in reality.
Through those broken holes, stars glimmered, twinking uncontrollably. Bright lasers erupted from the side barrels of the planet crackers, taking sweeping passes over the attacking fleets. Thanks to the multiple trajectories, the planet crackers themselves couldn't easily focus their power. Hours later, as lasers and fighters darted across the system, and metal and flame spewed from red-hot barrels on both sides, the first shot hit.
A planet cracker aligned with the center of Annabelle's fleet. Its massive beam charged, sending warning readings across every sensor she had. Charon-class guns fired on the planet cracker, but its shields still hadn't opened. Annabelle started dipping the dreadnaught down, traveling at an oblique angle as the superweapon charged.
All the dreadnaughts in the battle were trying to avoid the planet crackers' fields of fire, but the massive guns were moving far faster than they should have been capable of. Whoever was in charge of them was truly desperate, which was dangerous.
She shouted her orders. The captains did their best, relaying them down the ranks. They pushed their ships beyond their limits. Cruisers groaned. Battlecruisers creaked. Dreadnaughts strained. But one ship, not close enough to the shield to avoid the rotating planet cracker nearest to Annabelle, was unable to escape.
Annabelle blinked away the tears in her eyes watching as the dreadnaught tried to engage its FTL drive, but the opposing fields from the planet crackers blocked it. The ship fired its main guns eight times in five seconds before the weapon split apart. The extra thrust gave it a boost, but it still wasn't enough. Everyone on that ship was about to die, and they all knew it.
Annabelle had done what she could. Now, the rest of the fleet would be in danger if she didn't act soon. She finally unlinked all the fleet's shields, having them pull them back to limit the impact the weapon could deliver. The codes thankfully managed to get through the interference in the battle, though she'd had to resort to laser communications to do it. Some of the ships had already dropped away from the combined fleet's shield.
Even the planet crackers could only damage what they could hit. With her fleet spread so far, the thick beam couldn't destroy them all. And there was proper warning with the Q-comms relays in place for instant communication. The light from the planet cracker wouldn't be fast enough on its own to warn them before it had already fired.
But it still fired. The impossibly bright beam burned out sensors that hadn't shut in time. Shields were overloaded in an instant. A violent undertow in speeding space accompanied the thick laser, allowing the FTL nature of it even despite the suppression fields in place. Past a certain threshold, they could do nothing.
The hivemind took over Annabelle's mind. The thousands of humans on the Coordinator were separated from the network to prevent a far worse fate from befalling the rest. Gravitational waves radiated from the beam along with a physical heat so strong it would have fried Annabelle to plasma from a hundred thousand miles away.
Space dust, scattered asteroids, and the shields of ships all glowed like stars. The unprotected matter became plasma, and a thick ring of plasma puffed out around the planet cracker's barrel, the residue left from the reaction that had created the devastating attack.
It was not just a physical effect, either. In the mindscape, a section winked out of reality, warping so violently with energy as to kill anyone inside. Stone sheared and calved away into a new dimension, caving in and through itself, shields, and people in the process. Light and space bent and collapsed in a relatively straight line. Thousands of people she'd served with for years were wiped out, their minds obliterated as effectively as they could have been.
And then the reality of the mindscape imposed itself, and the line split into smaller things and shapes beyond calculation or understanding. Minds visible beneath the shields of the planet cracker became hidden once again, as Phoebe pulled back her assault briefly to prevent damage to her mind. The hivemind withdrew into its constituent parts, so that the remnants weren't dragged into oblivion.
With Annabelle acting as a hivemind node, the hivemind deciding to remain would have killed her instantly. Her mind would have been smashed into the rock so violently it would have cracked the local layer of the mindscape, possibly killing everyone in the star system.
Meanwhile, the FTL beam continued moving. 182 light minutes separated the planet cracker from the Coordinator. Typically, speeding space FTL was anywhere between 52 to 3000 times faster than light. But speeding space, when it acted on a planet cracker beam, only served to accelerate its speed forever. The last warning from the hivemind had been sent.
13 seconds later, the beam itself impacted the dreadnaught Annabelle was using to remotely coordinate the fleet. The Coordinator was one of the newer and more heavily shielded dreadnaughts that had come from the Mercury shipyards. But no matter how much protection it had, a direct hit from a planet cracker was beyond its capabilities.
The beam atomized the dreadnaught entirely, along with four battlecruisers that were inside the beam that was several kilometers wide. The bright glow vanished in an instant, and the beam kept going, as it would do forever until it struck a planet, moon, or star. The glowing innards of the planet cracker suddenly sputtered with damage. Several attacks had managed to slip through the open shield as the planet cracker fired. They were followed by bullets, decoy drop pods, and actual drop pods. Just as expected.
It was a grim exchange, one which chilled Annabelle's heart to the core. In the military, losses were expected. But that never made them any easier. Doubt crept into her mind, and she harnessed her grief and pain to grind it into the stone of the mindscape. Her soul ached with the reality of what she'd caused, but she pulled the hivemind from its node and gave it an order.
A second later, her grief was quarantined and sequestered appropriately, where it would no longer impede her ability to command. She would spare the tears and the emotions for when they could be allowed. A gap in the defenses needed to be exploited.
The Coordinator's destruction had allowed Annabelle to take out the planet cracker with a shot from her dreadnaught's side guns. She couldn't use the main gun due to the angle and the risk of causing irreparable damage or an explosion she couldn't escape.
It could be easily repaired, but not quickly. The capacitor cell had been hit. Annabelle took the opportunity to assess the battle, as well as keep an eye on the defending forces. The remaining Kingdom battlecruisers and destroyers were fighting on, but they were a footnote in the battle. FTL suppression and multi-vector attacks kept them from being able to escape.
The Alliance hammered on them hard, breaking their shields, cracking their hulls, and detonating their reactors. Every few minutes, there would be another explosion out in the void as fighters and frigates took down the shields of another enemy. Her dreadnaught took care of the battlecruisers while her battlecruisers and cruisers hunted and corralled the smaller ships.
Without the power of numbers on their side, the Kingdom's defenses were already caving in. All that remained were the planet crackers, locked out of FTL by the strongest fields Annabelle could manage. Had her ship been hit, they could have freed a few. But it had not been. The Coordinator's ultimate sacrifice, terrible as it was, still enabled her to win the battle.
Several fighters strafed the inner defenses along with faster frigates. Dreedeen pilots spun and looped around inferior defense vessels.
Phoebe's missiles and lasers targeted the planet cracker's own laser defenses with pinpoint accuracy. Nuclear detonations rippled across the thick bulk of the planet cracker, but it shrugged off the barrage easily. More shields were flaring into existence, but it was too late to prevent Phoebe from landing roughly twenty thousand androids and five hundred commando androids on the ship.
Fighters fell apart, releasing more androids hidden within their wings and hulls. Several frigates fell to pieces, disgorging hundreds more androids. They flooded the planet cracker's nearest airlocks. Thermite Throwers spewed their searing power into the thick locks. More detonations rippled across them as Phoebe worked on taking out the airlocks.
Thick gouts of air rushed out of the planet cracker, though comparatively small compared to the actual size of the massive gun. Annabelle continued to move her fleet closer to the planet cracker, still watching as Phoebe's disposable androids swarmed through the now broken airlocks and set more Thermite Throwers on blast doors, sealing their entrances. The battle proceeded for more grueling and stressful hours.
The Battle Planner captured two more planet crackers, taking hundreds of thousands of losses in ships and borders for each of them. Phoebe broke through to the engine and control rooms of the planet cracker she was invading, finding it all destroyed. With the defenses neutralized and the defenders being routed, a new carrier was brought in.
It was a ship dedicated to bringing technological marvels to the frontline. Androids hauled thick cables from the ship, dragging them through the hallways of the planet cracker. Phoebe eventually plugged them into the broken remains of the computers in the control and engine rooms.
"Done," the android next to Annabelle said. "I'll have the planet crackers ready in a few hours for firing. I've captured around 40,000 personnel."
"Thank you, Phoebe," Annabelle said.
"You are welcome. Excellent work."
She'd already offered condolences for the deaths. Morale was low, having lost a dreadnaught, and there was no need to lower it. All Annabelle could do was commend those who'd fallen in the line of duty, protecting the lives of innocents by capturing weapons capable of destroying entire worlds.
Annabelle's second prong of the attack, along with the Battle Planner's third and fifth prongs, hit the fourth planet cracker, swarming it with attacks. The shield never opened for it to fire, but that didn't matter. An Arsenal Asteroid smashed into the planet cracker's shield at 99.6% of the speed of light when its barrel aligned with Annabelle's dreadnaught. It was too slow to properly evade at this distance, and both of them knew it. The weapon was starting to charge its gun.
It hit at an oblique angle to avoid destroying the valuable target entirely. When it impacted, a nova of light erupted in a halo rising from the shield, which flickered several times. And then it went out.
15 trillion gigaton explosions tended to be damaging to shields. Even the massive shield of the planet cracker, equipped with all the power of a planetary shield inside a few dozens of miles in radius, was unable to stand up to that. Though it almost had, somehow.
Annabelle had nearly died. Luckily, the planet cracker fired prematurely, so its beam didn't carry the apocalyptic power in its entirety. It had roughly half power. But most importantly, it wasn't FTL. So, the 80-minute travel time was plenty for Annabelle's evasive maneuvers to evade it. The beam vanished into the void of space.
The tears did not fall. Not yet. There was more work to be done. Her eyes fixated on the fifth and final planet cracker, which was turning her way. The sensors picked up several stealth fighters attached to the gun's sides, helping to push it to make those quick turns.
Annabelle had the dreadnaught roll, swinging it back toward the rotating planet cracker. She'd measured the firing time of the last one, and the momentum of the thing would work against it. By the time it would be able to match her forward motion and account for it, she would be out of the cone. She had an extra 10 minutes, thanks to the light lag for that. And she'd put them to use.
The Battle Planner swooped back in, using the precious minutes to burn toward the last remaining threat. Annabelle's ship passed the line of sight of the planet cracker. It had already started charging, but it was too late. The last of her ship had passed when the massive gun belched a ray of thick light. It seared past and below her, as she'd also used the light lag to add a bit of relative yaw and pitch to her ship. The laser destroyed her shields and ruined the armor facing it with heat expansion. Plasma formed on the edges of her dreadnaught, exploding away in violent puffs.
The actual beam had passed a scant few thousand miles away and was going off into space, this time hitting nothing at all directly.
A stream of fire from the planet cracker hit the shields at the same time, trying to keep the opening from allowing purchase in the shields. But as the residual explosions cleared, nothing seemed to happen. No fighters, no giant battles against the well-prepared defenses.
"Permission to fire?" Phoebe asked.
"Permission granted," Annabelle replied.
A hard light hologram around the captured fourth planet cracker fell away. A thick beam passed the shield of the fifth planet cracker, weakening it visibly. Then, the planet cracker beam hit the star in the center of the system. A gigantic coronal mass ejection followed, along with an ejection of plasma roughly eight times the size of Jupiter, as the beam detonated within the dense interior of the hot ball of plasma.
The magnetic storm which followed disabled every shield in the system, leaving the Cawlarians and the Alliance easy pickings of the planet cracker. Phoebe's androids landed on the burnt and blasted metal surface first. Thermite Throwers followed.
Five hours later, the battle ended. The hivemind wrapped her in a gentle hug as the mental block on her grief slowly started to fade.
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Elder Manil Van smiled as he ate something called a burger. So far, the tour he'd gone on with the Alliance had been mostly uneventful. Dirty looks, a few mothers moving to the opposite side of the street, and a whole lot of walking. He had expected it, though.
The Patriarch checked in on him periodically, looking through his eyes and sometimes listening to the conversations that Manil had. A few of the humans on Luna actually were interested in learning more about him. They'd come up to him, shake his claws with their hands under the wary gazes of his guards, and ask if they could learn more about him. Some of their interests were academic. Several scientists had been recording his testimony on how genetic altering and conceptual energy had contributed to the number of Elders who were angry all the time.
Others wanted to know more about his culture, traditions, and morals. They'd been surprised several times to learn just how similar some of them were or how different. The Casting Of the Candles as a way to honor the death of someone great by setting floating candles into a river was apparently similar to how a few of them had done funeral services. Other times, they were surprised by Manils' descriptions of how large the Sprilnav's trains and buses were to account for quadrupedal forms. Their ceilings were generally lower in exchange for packing more people inside. Some of them were also interested in Sprilnav fashion.
Most of it wasn't something that he bothered with. The Sprilnav didn't really do 'pants' like humans did. With four legs, that was often relegated to either long socks, robes, and dresses, or just simple loincloths. Female Sprilnav didn't have the same taboo that female humans did about showing their chests. Manil assumed it was likely due to a lack of mammary glands at the location, so there was no 'breast-feeding' of children or any related stimulations even possible.
The dimorphism between male and female humans was greater than that of the Sprilnav, who mostly showed it in bone structures and how lean their bodies were. Others had compared him to other quadrupedal Earth creatures, attempting to see the singularities and differences.
Of course, he denied anything that required extensive physical interaction. The rave gyms that Equisa apparently went to didn't interest him, with their large crowds. He disliked having so many eyes on him, so he decided to avoid that whenever he could. One particularly bold human had even asked him on a date, citing things that were apparently mixes of superstitions and odd fantasies gained from too much time spent on a network with a great deal of certain content.
Though some of it was shocking, most wasn't. He'd seen a lot in his long life, and if a network was unregulated enough, a lot of the things Phoebe later explained to him would also appear. Though the fact that anything they did managed to surprise him at all was worrying, considering that they were not an old species.
"And you likely could start up a few businesses, for the novelty of it," Phoebe was saying. Manil nodded absently.
"What is it?"
"Where are Luke and Leia?"
"Elsewhere," Phoebe said. "They're assets of the Alliance. We don't exactly give away their locations. Especially..." she trailed off.
"Especially not to Sprilnav," Manil finished.
"Yes. I am authorized to tell you that further contact can be arranged in the future, under careful circumstances."
"That is good. They are good people, somehow. I'm still trying to figure out how to managed to make super soldiers that are good people."
"I had no hand in their creation. But we managed."
"Yes. I would hope no more are being experimented upon."
"I can neither confirm or deny that. Take that as you will, but there will be no further conversation about classified topics."
"Then... how are you feeling, Phoebe? I heard you got in some hot water recently."
"Learned that idiom too? And yes, I did," she said, looking a little defensive. "Politicians are who they are. But Humanity is better than them, and kinder than them. Even the youngest people can say the nicest things to me. It's what I love about them."
"Love," Manil said. "An interesting word."
"A true one. I am a person, and I happen to be able to love."
"You have people that do not love?"
"There are different kinds. Aromantic people, for example. Edu'frec doesn't engage in non-familial relationships. The wanderers do things differently, as do the Junyli. Every species is different."
"So you have people that do not contribute."
"We do. Every society does, and they all deserve a chance at life."
"An interesting opinion, but I suppose our cultures to have differences."
"I hope you don't purge your own people."
"I do not. The Van family does not. But we are not our entire species, just as you and Penny are not the entire Alliance. It is prudent to remember that."
He said it more for the Patriarch than for them.
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Penny frowned as Valisada continued to defend himself against Justicar's anger. Kashaunta's promise of a 'civilized discussion' clearly didn't account for their animosity. Only Valisada didn't say anything, continuing to listen to various insults spewed against him and his leadership. When Justicar's latest tirade finished, Valisada turned toward Penny.
"Your ally is gifted with his words."
"How dare you ignore me," Justicar said. "Your Grand Fleet did this, and I will have my reparations."
"What's your price, now that you are done?"
"50 quintillion credits, and you leave."
Justicar had escalated his terms. Valisada noticed, as did Penny.
Nilnacrawla sighed in Penny's head.
If we get him to sign a non-aggression treaty, we need to ensure both Kashaunta and Justicar have a vested interest in backing it. He isn't above tarnishing his reputation for the issues he believes are important. He is dangerous, and you must remain vigilant while he is Grand Fleet Commander.
Kashaunta is worse than I hoped.
She is what you knew she was, but is now comfortable letting her worse side free so it will be normalized when the Judgment is done. Once you get used to it, you will excuse it, and Kashaunta will use your gratitude to ensure your continued relationship. She is grooming you, Penny.
For what?
Likely to continue providing her money with the linear singularities. Do not be surprised if new threats appear that 'only Kashaunta can stop' when the Judgment ends. Or if it goes unfavorably, for her to clamp down because she knows she's the Alliance's only hope. Play at anger or friendship if you wish, but do not forget who she is, and how she got her wealth.
Thank you, Nilnacrawla, Penny said. But can you remind me when I'm losing my way, if I do in the future?
Gladly.
"I cannot leave, sadly," Valisada said, looking truly downtrodden at the request. "I have my own masters I must please, the same ones who ensured the previous leader's removal. I cannot go against their desires, and their desires are for me to remain here, as a check against Kashaunta and her own Grand Fleet."
"My Grand Fleet is here because yours is. And I would note that yours arrived first," Kashaunta replied.
"Through no actions of my own, and I am unable to rectify that to your liking."
"That is convenient, isn't it?" Justicar asked.
"Ask them about that. They're the ones who attacked my flagship and abducted Azeri," Valisada responded. "I hold no animosity about that, but your actions to have consequences. I will not be bullied or goaded into making a poor decision here. You all are smart people, so surely you realize that any further arguments must have a legal backing before we proceed. Justicar is uniquely equipped to handle these things, given the size and scale of his legal apparatus, as well as its high quality. Just as I am sure that the Judgment will proceed soon."
"You almost sound eager for it, Elder Valisada. Is there any reason why?" Penny asked.
"Well, yes. It is because I am tired of this. Regrettably, it will determine the fate of your species. But that is life. The weak are ruled by the strong."
"And yet you say you do not look down upon Humanity."
"It is not a weakness of your forms, or of your hearts. It is one of minds, population, and resources. And your Alliance has more species than just Humanity, Penny. Are you not concerned for the teeming billions of Acuarfar, or the Guulin you stole from the United Legions?"
"The Guulin were liberated from slavery," Penny frowned. "And when I get back down to Justicar, I will continue doing that to the innocent people your Dreadnaught Captain mercilessly slaughtered. In the interest of honest cooperation, I will terminate gang leaders with prejudice if I must, but only if there is no other choice.
Any who have links to your Grand Fleet will be treated even more harshly, which should discourage any more 'rogue' members of your fleet from engaging in illicit affairs. For the 455 thousand dead Sprilnav that Solei personally killed, it would be the least you can do. Given that the Grand Fleets exist to protect the Sprilnav species from all threats, internal and external, of course."
"Perhaps Solei believed you were an external threat," Valisada replied. "Given your threats against those who actively stand against you, it would make sense from his perspective."
Penny laughed. "His last perspective was of Justicar's teeth crunching through his ribcage."
"How distasteful to laugh over such a gruesome death."
Valisada actually managed to look sad about it.
"Distateful, Elder? I'm showing the same amount of appreciation that you do for the Sprilnav who don't happen to be rich and powerful Elders. Unless you are assuming that the 455 thousand Sprilnav are worth less than the life of one Elder?"
"There is no assumption necessary," Valisada said. "In monetary, legal, economic, and even political studies, this has been proven true. In fact, the lowest estimates for the ratios are 1 Elder for every 50 million Sprilnav, though some more biased studies can go quite higher. I remember the Autonomous Peoples' Stars put out a study which found that roughly 20 billion Sprilnav equaled an Elder in value.
Of course, the names of those who funded that study happened to include several Elders high up in the political hierarchy, including a certain Elder named Kashaunta. Luckily, more realistic measures of our worth prevail. In the event of a war breaking out, the largest losses for Justicar would be the civilians."
"And a war will not break out," Justicar agreed. "If it does, my jaws will find a new Elder's body."
For effect, his tongue slid over his teeth. It was a grotesque gesture, but neither of the Elders seemed bothered by it. Perhaps they'd seen worse. Penny had to admit it would just be another step to Elder insanity if they were cannibals, too. The only thing worse was if they did blood sacrifices on babies in cults.
"You know, cannibalism is considered a crime by your very own laws," Valisada said as if that was the only problem with it worth considering.
"I do not remember consuming the physical meat of Solei, which is the requirement for that law. Deaths in the mindscape can happen when Elders make poor decisions. But that is beside the point. I have matters to attend to, and will be sending over some agreements and lawyers to your ship. Kill them or harm them, and you will be at war with me for real," Justicar threatened.
"Without a flagship, such a measure would be foolish," Valisada said.
"Luckily, he would not be without a flagship in that case," Kashaunta replied. "Because I will be sending lawyers too. Rest assured, a war with me, and my nation, is something you might live to see the end of, though your remaining relatives on your home planet would not."
"You would not dare."
"I would," Kashaunta said. "Quite recently, I have been reminded of my previous methods of dealing with those like you. I believe I was reminded 'what I am' if you would. You do not care about the people Solei killed on Justicar, and neither will I for Padalia, Ni-alsi 2, or Malikaven."
So this was to make Penny feel bad for her words. She saw what this was, and would not allow herself to be swayed. Elders had this sort of tendency, and if she wanted to get a positive outcome, she'd have to deal with it for a bit longer. Perhaps Kashaunta would regain her willingness to maintain her facade of friendliness again once this was over.
But Penny would not forget this. Kashaunta was the Alliance's best option, but that didn't mean she was a good one. After the Judgment, Penny would reexamine their relationship.
Valisada's eyes narrowed. "You would increase it to three planets?"
"Yes. I believe their total population is roughly 140 billion people. That equates to 70 Elders. Or 67.16, if we are being exact with the study I believe you are citing."
Penny did her best to hide her disgust but failed. Valisada took notice. "This is who you work for, Penny. This is who she really is."
Don't listen to him, Nilnacrawla said.
I know. He doesn't want what's best for us, and Kashaunta's our means to an end.
Watch you back, Penny. I'll do the same.
"I know," Penny replied. "But we don't have any other allies. You're not exactly reliable, even if you were to suspiciously flip sides and make an offer to be a new ally. Justicar is bound to his planet. The Progenitors are pulling back their influence."
"And such extreme threats as I have made would only come to fruition if a war were to break out," Kashaunta said. "I am making them so you understand the scope of your actions as a Grand Fleet Commander. Perhaps I was overly harsh, but do not mistake these threats as empty. I protect my own."
"Your own?" Valisada asked. Kashaunta flicked a claw toward Penny, without meeting her gaze. Penny was still processing the sudden escalation, which had seemingly came out of nowhere. Why was Kashaunta pretending she cared? She clearly saw Penny and the Alliance as means to an end. Perhaps even several ends.
"Penny, and those she values. I could consider the slaves as citizens of the People's Stars, for example."
"No, you could not," Justicar responded. His demeanor darkened visibly, and the lighting in the virtual reality became darker.
"Why not? You don't think they're your citizens, do you? Not much 'justice' in keeping slaves, hmm?"
This is stupid, and a waste of my time, Penny thought.
They do need a bit of an ego check, don't they? Nilnacrawla agreed.
Yes.
Penny stood up, making her chair slide backward. "Can you all quit being evil? This is ridiculous. All we need to do is sit together and draft agreements. Otherwise, leave it to the lawyers, and stop with the petty insults. Or the grave ones. You're not 5 year olds. You're billions of years old. It's honestly sad. No, it's pathetic.
How have you managed to keep your 'master race' thing going this long, when you suck this badly? Spoiled little brats. Can you believe Kashaunta told me I needed to be civilized for this meeting? Perhaps I should don a loincloth and pick up my club, so I can start hooting it up with you old primitives."
The Elders paused, looking at Penny in wonder.
"You see? Let's talk treaties. Do you guys have any ideas, or should I go get some wood for a bonfire? With how much you all talk, I'm sure your singing voices must be phenomenal."
submitted by Storms_Wrath to HFY [link] [comments]
Fleet Commander Annabelle Weber raised the shields of the dreadnaught as she approached. All across the Alliance Defense Fleet's mental network, psychic amplifiers were activated in tandem with shields. Thousands of small bubbles surrounded the soldiers and crews in the mindscape while Annabelle herself donned a mental device meant to strengthen her even more. It had been delivered directly by Brey herself in a massive expenditure of energy and likely was another classified project.
This far out, Annabelle had less access than usual. There was also less contact with Phoebe than usual, likely due to politics. But out here, that didn't matter. All that mattered were her crews, her ships, and her soldiers. Past that, the Cawlarians. Tenrah's fleet had started to move away from her, as the Admiral drew most of the fire from Siran's fleets.
Meanwhile, Annabelle and the Battle Planner were working on the planet crackers. There were five of them, luckily out of position by a few scouting attacks that had been sent against them a few hours prior. It had helped to ensure Annabelle and the Battle Planner wouldn't get wiped by the beams before even entering the battlefield.
They'd been deployed faster than expected. Phoebe's sabotage drones hadn't been able to destroy them quickly enough before being detected. The capability was unexpected, but it wasn't entirely implausible. She hadn't told the Heptarchies anything of the war plans, and neither had Phoebe or Tenrah. And the Battle Planner had almost no contact with them after their constant disparagement of his religion.
He'd gotten over it, though, and was stable. Hundreds of thousands of mine sweeper vessels, little more than drones with massive but flimsy shields, started moving forward. They cleared any stealth mines, antimatter pockets, and any other natural surprises that waited for them. The planet crackers themselves loomed large in the distance, but only through the optical sensors.
The battle would take a long time, and Siran's forces were being hit by a large portion of a second fleet. The Cawlarians had suddenly pulled off border patrol for a pincer attack. It risked the Heptarchy invading, but Annabelle couldn't stop that.
If Kawtyahtnakal had made the decision, he had plans in place. It wasn't a question. Annabelle checked the vectors, the networks, and the inventories of her fleet again. Everything was nearly at 100%, with only the FTL fuel reserves somewhat lower. Luckily, hydrogen compression wasn't exactly difficult in the modern age. Specialized interfaces told Annabelle that several smaller fleets of the High Kingdom were closing in, but they wouldn't arrive before they were already in the thick of battle.
Explosions rippled on the distant shield fronts of the mine sweeper drones. Corrosive acids and even smaller cutting drones came out, along with several heavy magnetic field bursts. Many of the drones were disabled, but the Battle Planner's strategy had paid off. His fleet took almost no damage, and only a few dozen cruisers and frigates were even hit. They shrugged off the damage easily, though they did pull back from the front of the formation.
The fleets had adopted a design that allowed for easy repositioning and retreat. It took tactics similar to the old British musket lines, only for actual ships instead of people. The caveat to that was only small ships could really turn quickly enough for the strategy to be effective. Their broadside guns, less capable than the dorsal and spinal guns but still powerful in their own right, also helped with maintaining the barrage of fire pouring down on the thick shields that were rapidly spinning up around the planet crackers.
Several ships filled with explosives and absolutely covered in heavy metals zoomed into the system from outside the battle. Annabelle could only track them by calculations. The ships themselves were empty of crew, with only a few androids piloting them. Phoebe's suicide vessels were ships that had been towed by Alcubierre drives, emerging from the bent bubbles in such a fashion that they had a massive relative velocity to 'normal' space.
In fact, thanks to some very complicated effects, they had been accelerated to a very close percentage of the speed of light. But in a space battle, the speed of light was still somewhat slow. Even with the presence of tens of thousands of overlapping Q-comms suppression fields, the Kingdom put up a good defense. Invisible ships detonated in front of the attacks, their own versions of speeding space drives detonating in a violent and bright fashion, creating ruins in reality.
Through those broken holes, stars glimmered, twinking uncontrollably. Bright lasers erupted from the side barrels of the planet crackers, taking sweeping passes over the attacking fleets. Thanks to the multiple trajectories, the planet crackers themselves couldn't easily focus their power. Hours later, as lasers and fighters darted across the system, and metal and flame spewed from red-hot barrels on both sides, the first shot hit.
A planet cracker aligned with the center of Annabelle's fleet. Its massive beam charged, sending warning readings across every sensor she had. Charon-class guns fired on the planet cracker, but its shields still hadn't opened. Annabelle started dipping the dreadnaught down, traveling at an oblique angle as the superweapon charged.
All the dreadnaughts in the battle were trying to avoid the planet crackers' fields of fire, but the massive guns were moving far faster than they should have been capable of. Whoever was in charge of them was truly desperate, which was dangerous.
She shouted her orders. The captains did their best, relaying them down the ranks. They pushed their ships beyond their limits. Cruisers groaned. Battlecruisers creaked. Dreadnaughts strained. But one ship, not close enough to the shield to avoid the rotating planet cracker nearest to Annabelle, was unable to escape.
Annabelle blinked away the tears in her eyes watching as the dreadnaught tried to engage its FTL drive, but the opposing fields from the planet crackers blocked it. The ship fired its main guns eight times in five seconds before the weapon split apart. The extra thrust gave it a boost, but it still wasn't enough. Everyone on that ship was about to die, and they all knew it.
Annabelle had done what she could. Now, the rest of the fleet would be in danger if she didn't act soon. She finally unlinked all the fleet's shields, having them pull them back to limit the impact the weapon could deliver. The codes thankfully managed to get through the interference in the battle, though she'd had to resort to laser communications to do it. Some of the ships had already dropped away from the combined fleet's shield.
Even the planet crackers could only damage what they could hit. With her fleet spread so far, the thick beam couldn't destroy them all. And there was proper warning with the Q-comms relays in place for instant communication. The light from the planet cracker wouldn't be fast enough on its own to warn them before it had already fired.
But it still fired. The impossibly bright beam burned out sensors that hadn't shut in time. Shields were overloaded in an instant. A violent undertow in speeding space accompanied the thick laser, allowing the FTL nature of it even despite the suppression fields in place. Past a certain threshold, they could do nothing.
The hivemind took over Annabelle's mind. The thousands of humans on the Coordinator were separated from the network to prevent a far worse fate from befalling the rest. Gravitational waves radiated from the beam along with a physical heat so strong it would have fried Annabelle to plasma from a hundred thousand miles away.
Space dust, scattered asteroids, and the shields of ships all glowed like stars. The unprotected matter became plasma, and a thick ring of plasma puffed out around the planet cracker's barrel, the residue left from the reaction that had created the devastating attack.
It was not just a physical effect, either. In the mindscape, a section winked out of reality, warping so violently with energy as to kill anyone inside. Stone sheared and calved away into a new dimension, caving in and through itself, shields, and people in the process. Light and space bent and collapsed in a relatively straight line. Thousands of people she'd served with for years were wiped out, their minds obliterated as effectively as they could have been.
And then the reality of the mindscape imposed itself, and the line split into smaller things and shapes beyond calculation or understanding. Minds visible beneath the shields of the planet cracker became hidden once again, as Phoebe pulled back her assault briefly to prevent damage to her mind. The hivemind withdrew into its constituent parts, so that the remnants weren't dragged into oblivion.
With Annabelle acting as a hivemind node, the hivemind deciding to remain would have killed her instantly. Her mind would have been smashed into the rock so violently it would have cracked the local layer of the mindscape, possibly killing everyone in the star system.
Meanwhile, the FTL beam continued moving. 182 light minutes separated the planet cracker from the Coordinator. Typically, speeding space FTL was anywhere between 52 to 3000 times faster than light. But speeding space, when it acted on a planet cracker beam, only served to accelerate its speed forever. The last warning from the hivemind had been sent.
13 seconds later, the beam itself impacted the dreadnaught Annabelle was using to remotely coordinate the fleet. The Coordinator was one of the newer and more heavily shielded dreadnaughts that had come from the Mercury shipyards. But no matter how much protection it had, a direct hit from a planet cracker was beyond its capabilities.
The beam atomized the dreadnaught entirely, along with four battlecruisers that were inside the beam that was several kilometers wide. The bright glow vanished in an instant, and the beam kept going, as it would do forever until it struck a planet, moon, or star. The glowing innards of the planet cracker suddenly sputtered with damage. Several attacks had managed to slip through the open shield as the planet cracker fired. They were followed by bullets, decoy drop pods, and actual drop pods. Just as expected.
It was a grim exchange, one which chilled Annabelle's heart to the core. In the military, losses were expected. But that never made them any easier. Doubt crept into her mind, and she harnessed her grief and pain to grind it into the stone of the mindscape. Her soul ached with the reality of what she'd caused, but she pulled the hivemind from its node and gave it an order.
A second later, her grief was quarantined and sequestered appropriately, where it would no longer impede her ability to command. She would spare the tears and the emotions for when they could be allowed. A gap in the defenses needed to be exploited.
The Coordinator's destruction had allowed Annabelle to take out the planet cracker with a shot from her dreadnaught's side guns. She couldn't use the main gun due to the angle and the risk of causing irreparable damage or an explosion she couldn't escape.
It could be easily repaired, but not quickly. The capacitor cell had been hit. Annabelle took the opportunity to assess the battle, as well as keep an eye on the defending forces. The remaining Kingdom battlecruisers and destroyers were fighting on, but they were a footnote in the battle. FTL suppression and multi-vector attacks kept them from being able to escape.
The Alliance hammered on them hard, breaking their shields, cracking their hulls, and detonating their reactors. Every few minutes, there would be another explosion out in the void as fighters and frigates took down the shields of another enemy. Her dreadnaught took care of the battlecruisers while her battlecruisers and cruisers hunted and corralled the smaller ships.
Without the power of numbers on their side, the Kingdom's defenses were already caving in. All that remained were the planet crackers, locked out of FTL by the strongest fields Annabelle could manage. Had her ship been hit, they could have freed a few. But it had not been. The Coordinator's ultimate sacrifice, terrible as it was, still enabled her to win the battle.
Several fighters strafed the inner defenses along with faster frigates. Dreedeen pilots spun and looped around inferior defense vessels.
Phoebe's missiles and lasers targeted the planet cracker's own laser defenses with pinpoint accuracy. Nuclear detonations rippled across the thick bulk of the planet cracker, but it shrugged off the barrage easily. More shields were flaring into existence, but it was too late to prevent Phoebe from landing roughly twenty thousand androids and five hundred commando androids on the ship.
Fighters fell apart, releasing more androids hidden within their wings and hulls. Several frigates fell to pieces, disgorging hundreds more androids. They flooded the planet cracker's nearest airlocks. Thermite Throwers spewed their searing power into the thick locks. More detonations rippled across them as Phoebe worked on taking out the airlocks.
Thick gouts of air rushed out of the planet cracker, though comparatively small compared to the actual size of the massive gun. Annabelle continued to move her fleet closer to the planet cracker, still watching as Phoebe's disposable androids swarmed through the now broken airlocks and set more Thermite Throwers on blast doors, sealing their entrances. The battle proceeded for more grueling and stressful hours.
The Battle Planner captured two more planet crackers, taking hundreds of thousands of losses in ships and borders for each of them. Phoebe broke through to the engine and control rooms of the planet cracker she was invading, finding it all destroyed. With the defenses neutralized and the defenders being routed, a new carrier was brought in.
It was a ship dedicated to bringing technological marvels to the frontline. Androids hauled thick cables from the ship, dragging them through the hallways of the planet cracker. Phoebe eventually plugged them into the broken remains of the computers in the control and engine rooms.
"Done," the android next to Annabelle said. "I'll have the planet crackers ready in a few hours for firing. I've captured around 40,000 personnel."
"Thank you, Phoebe," Annabelle said.
"You are welcome. Excellent work."
She'd already offered condolences for the deaths. Morale was low, having lost a dreadnaught, and there was no need to lower it. All Annabelle could do was commend those who'd fallen in the line of duty, protecting the lives of innocents by capturing weapons capable of destroying entire worlds.
Annabelle's second prong of the attack, along with the Battle Planner's third and fifth prongs, hit the fourth planet cracker, swarming it with attacks. The shield never opened for it to fire, but that didn't matter. An Arsenal Asteroid smashed into the planet cracker's shield at 99.6% of the speed of light when its barrel aligned with Annabelle's dreadnaught. It was too slow to properly evade at this distance, and both of them knew it. The weapon was starting to charge its gun.
It hit at an oblique angle to avoid destroying the valuable target entirely. When it impacted, a nova of light erupted in a halo rising from the shield, which flickered several times. And then it went out.
15 trillion gigaton explosions tended to be damaging to shields. Even the massive shield of the planet cracker, equipped with all the power of a planetary shield inside a few dozens of miles in radius, was unable to stand up to that. Though it almost had, somehow.
Annabelle had nearly died. Luckily, the planet cracker fired prematurely, so its beam didn't carry the apocalyptic power in its entirety. It had roughly half power. But most importantly, it wasn't FTL. So, the 80-minute travel time was plenty for Annabelle's evasive maneuvers to evade it. The beam vanished into the void of space.
The tears did not fall. Not yet. There was more work to be done. Her eyes fixated on the fifth and final planet cracker, which was turning her way. The sensors picked up several stealth fighters attached to the gun's sides, helping to push it to make those quick turns.
Annabelle had the dreadnaught roll, swinging it back toward the rotating planet cracker. She'd measured the firing time of the last one, and the momentum of the thing would work against it. By the time it would be able to match her forward motion and account for it, she would be out of the cone. She had an extra 10 minutes, thanks to the light lag for that. And she'd put them to use.
The Battle Planner swooped back in, using the precious minutes to burn toward the last remaining threat. Annabelle's ship passed the line of sight of the planet cracker. It had already started charging, but it was too late. The last of her ship had passed when the massive gun belched a ray of thick light. It seared past and below her, as she'd also used the light lag to add a bit of relative yaw and pitch to her ship. The laser destroyed her shields and ruined the armor facing it with heat expansion. Plasma formed on the edges of her dreadnaught, exploding away in violent puffs.
The actual beam had passed a scant few thousand miles away and was going off into space, this time hitting nothing at all directly.
A stream of fire from the planet cracker hit the shields at the same time, trying to keep the opening from allowing purchase in the shields. But as the residual explosions cleared, nothing seemed to happen. No fighters, no giant battles against the well-prepared defenses.
"Permission to fire?" Phoebe asked.
"Permission granted," Annabelle replied.
A hard light hologram around the captured fourth planet cracker fell away. A thick beam passed the shield of the fifth planet cracker, weakening it visibly. Then, the planet cracker beam hit the star in the center of the system. A gigantic coronal mass ejection followed, along with an ejection of plasma roughly eight times the size of Jupiter, as the beam detonated within the dense interior of the hot ball of plasma.
The magnetic storm which followed disabled every shield in the system, leaving the Cawlarians and the Alliance easy pickings of the planet cracker. Phoebe's androids landed on the burnt and blasted metal surface first. Thermite Throwers followed.
Five hours later, the battle ended. The hivemind wrapped her in a gentle hug as the mental block on her grief slowly started to fade.
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Elder Manil Van smiled as he ate something called a burger. So far, the tour he'd gone on with the Alliance had been mostly uneventful. Dirty looks, a few mothers moving to the opposite side of the street, and a whole lot of walking. He had expected it, though.
The Patriarch checked in on him periodically, looking through his eyes and sometimes listening to the conversations that Manil had. A few of the humans on Luna actually were interested in learning more about him. They'd come up to him, shake his claws with their hands under the wary gazes of his guards, and ask if they could learn more about him. Some of their interests were academic. Several scientists had been recording his testimony on how genetic altering and conceptual energy had contributed to the number of Elders who were angry all the time.
Others wanted to know more about his culture, traditions, and morals. They'd been surprised several times to learn just how similar some of them were or how different. The Casting Of the Candles as a way to honor the death of someone great by setting floating candles into a river was apparently similar to how a few of them had done funeral services. Other times, they were surprised by Manils' descriptions of how large the Sprilnav's trains and buses were to account for quadrupedal forms. Their ceilings were generally lower in exchange for packing more people inside. Some of them were also interested in Sprilnav fashion.
Most of it wasn't something that he bothered with. The Sprilnav didn't really do 'pants' like humans did. With four legs, that was often relegated to either long socks, robes, and dresses, or just simple loincloths. Female Sprilnav didn't have the same taboo that female humans did about showing their chests. Manil assumed it was likely due to a lack of mammary glands at the location, so there was no 'breast-feeding' of children or any related stimulations even possible.
The dimorphism between male and female humans was greater than that of the Sprilnav, who mostly showed it in bone structures and how lean their bodies were. Others had compared him to other quadrupedal Earth creatures, attempting to see the singularities and differences.
Of course, he denied anything that required extensive physical interaction. The rave gyms that Equisa apparently went to didn't interest him, with their large crowds. He disliked having so many eyes on him, so he decided to avoid that whenever he could. One particularly bold human had even asked him on a date, citing things that were apparently mixes of superstitions and odd fantasies gained from too much time spent on a network with a great deal of certain content.
Though some of it was shocking, most wasn't. He'd seen a lot in his long life, and if a network was unregulated enough, a lot of the things Phoebe later explained to him would also appear. Though the fact that anything they did managed to surprise him at all was worrying, considering that they were not an old species.
"And you likely could start up a few businesses, for the novelty of it," Phoebe was saying. Manil nodded absently.
"What is it?"
"Where are Luke and Leia?"
"Elsewhere," Phoebe said. "They're assets of the Alliance. We don't exactly give away their locations. Especially..." she trailed off.
"Especially not to Sprilnav," Manil finished.
"Yes. I am authorized to tell you that further contact can be arranged in the future, under careful circumstances."
"That is good. They are good people, somehow. I'm still trying to figure out how to managed to make super soldiers that are good people."
"I had no hand in their creation. But we managed."
"Yes. I would hope no more are being experimented upon."
"I can neither confirm or deny that. Take that as you will, but there will be no further conversation about classified topics."
"Then... how are you feeling, Phoebe? I heard you got in some hot water recently."
"Learned that idiom too? And yes, I did," she said, looking a little defensive. "Politicians are who they are. But Humanity is better than them, and kinder than them. Even the youngest people can say the nicest things to me. It's what I love about them."
"Love," Manil said. "An interesting word."
"A true one. I am a person, and I happen to be able to love."
"You have people that do not love?"
"There are different kinds. Aromantic people, for example. Edu'frec doesn't engage in non-familial relationships. The wanderers do things differently, as do the Junyli. Every species is different."
"So you have people that do not contribute."
"We do. Every society does, and they all deserve a chance at life."
"An interesting opinion, but I suppose our cultures to have differences."
"I hope you don't purge your own people."
"I do not. The Van family does not. But we are not our entire species, just as you and Penny are not the entire Alliance. It is prudent to remember that."
He said it more for the Patriarch than for them.
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Penny frowned as Valisada continued to defend himself against Justicar's anger. Kashaunta's promise of a 'civilized discussion' clearly didn't account for their animosity. Only Valisada didn't say anything, continuing to listen to various insults spewed against him and his leadership. When Justicar's latest tirade finished, Valisada turned toward Penny.
"Your ally is gifted with his words."
"How dare you ignore me," Justicar said. "Your Grand Fleet did this, and I will have my reparations."
"What's your price, now that you are done?"
"50 quintillion credits, and you leave."
Justicar had escalated his terms. Valisada noticed, as did Penny.
Nilnacrawla sighed in Penny's head.
If we get him to sign a non-aggression treaty, we need to ensure both Kashaunta and Justicar have a vested interest in backing it. He isn't above tarnishing his reputation for the issues he believes are important. He is dangerous, and you must remain vigilant while he is Grand Fleet Commander.
Kashaunta is worse than I hoped.
She is what you knew she was, but is now comfortable letting her worse side free so it will be normalized when the Judgment is done. Once you get used to it, you will excuse it, and Kashaunta will use your gratitude to ensure your continued relationship. She is grooming you, Penny.
For what?
Likely to continue providing her money with the linear singularities. Do not be surprised if new threats appear that 'only Kashaunta can stop' when the Judgment ends. Or if it goes unfavorably, for her to clamp down because she knows she's the Alliance's only hope. Play at anger or friendship if you wish, but do not forget who she is, and how she got her wealth.
Thank you, Nilnacrawla, Penny said. But can you remind me when I'm losing my way, if I do in the future?
Gladly.
"I cannot leave, sadly," Valisada said, looking truly downtrodden at the request. "I have my own masters I must please, the same ones who ensured the previous leader's removal. I cannot go against their desires, and their desires are for me to remain here, as a check against Kashaunta and her own Grand Fleet."
"My Grand Fleet is here because yours is. And I would note that yours arrived first," Kashaunta replied.
"Through no actions of my own, and I am unable to rectify that to your liking."
"That is convenient, isn't it?" Justicar asked.
"Ask them about that. They're the ones who attacked my flagship and abducted Azeri," Valisada responded. "I hold no animosity about that, but your actions to have consequences. I will not be bullied or goaded into making a poor decision here. You all are smart people, so surely you realize that any further arguments must have a legal backing before we proceed. Justicar is uniquely equipped to handle these things, given the size and scale of his legal apparatus, as well as its high quality. Just as I am sure that the Judgment will proceed soon."
"You almost sound eager for it, Elder Valisada. Is there any reason why?" Penny asked.
"Well, yes. It is because I am tired of this. Regrettably, it will determine the fate of your species. But that is life. The weak are ruled by the strong."
"And yet you say you do not look down upon Humanity."
"It is not a weakness of your forms, or of your hearts. It is one of minds, population, and resources. And your Alliance has more species than just Humanity, Penny. Are you not concerned for the teeming billions of Acuarfar, or the Guulin you stole from the United Legions?"
"The Guulin were liberated from slavery," Penny frowned. "And when I get back down to Justicar, I will continue doing that to the innocent people your Dreadnaught Captain mercilessly slaughtered. In the interest of honest cooperation, I will terminate gang leaders with prejudice if I must, but only if there is no other choice.
Any who have links to your Grand Fleet will be treated even more harshly, which should discourage any more 'rogue' members of your fleet from engaging in illicit affairs. For the 455 thousand dead Sprilnav that Solei personally killed, it would be the least you can do. Given that the Grand Fleets exist to protect the Sprilnav species from all threats, internal and external, of course."
"Perhaps Solei believed you were an external threat," Valisada replied. "Given your threats against those who actively stand against you, it would make sense from his perspective."
Penny laughed. "His last perspective was of Justicar's teeth crunching through his ribcage."
"How distasteful to laugh over such a gruesome death."
Valisada actually managed to look sad about it.
"Distateful, Elder? I'm showing the same amount of appreciation that you do for the Sprilnav who don't happen to be rich and powerful Elders. Unless you are assuming that the 455 thousand Sprilnav are worth less than the life of one Elder?"
"There is no assumption necessary," Valisada said. "In monetary, legal, economic, and even political studies, this has been proven true. In fact, the lowest estimates for the ratios are 1 Elder for every 50 million Sprilnav, though some more biased studies can go quite higher. I remember the Autonomous Peoples' Stars put out a study which found that roughly 20 billion Sprilnav equaled an Elder in value.
Of course, the names of those who funded that study happened to include several Elders high up in the political hierarchy, including a certain Elder named Kashaunta. Luckily, more realistic measures of our worth prevail. In the event of a war breaking out, the largest losses for Justicar would be the civilians."
"And a war will not break out," Justicar agreed. "If it does, my jaws will find a new Elder's body."
For effect, his tongue slid over his teeth. It was a grotesque gesture, but neither of the Elders seemed bothered by it. Perhaps they'd seen worse. Penny had to admit it would just be another step to Elder insanity if they were cannibals, too. The only thing worse was if they did blood sacrifices on babies in cults.
"You know, cannibalism is considered a crime by your very own laws," Valisada said as if that was the only problem with it worth considering.
"I do not remember consuming the physical meat of Solei, which is the requirement for that law. Deaths in the mindscape can happen when Elders make poor decisions. But that is beside the point. I have matters to attend to, and will be sending over some agreements and lawyers to your ship. Kill them or harm them, and you will be at war with me for real," Justicar threatened.
"Without a flagship, such a measure would be foolish," Valisada said.
"Luckily, he would not be without a flagship in that case," Kashaunta replied. "Because I will be sending lawyers too. Rest assured, a war with me, and my nation, is something you might live to see the end of, though your remaining relatives on your home planet would not."
"You would not dare."
"I would," Kashaunta said. "Quite recently, I have been reminded of my previous methods of dealing with those like you. I believe I was reminded 'what I am' if you would. You do not care about the people Solei killed on Justicar, and neither will I for Padalia, Ni-alsi 2, or Malikaven."
So this was to make Penny feel bad for her words. She saw what this was, and would not allow herself to be swayed. Elders had this sort of tendency, and if she wanted to get a positive outcome, she'd have to deal with it for a bit longer. Perhaps Kashaunta would regain her willingness to maintain her facade of friendliness again once this was over.
But Penny would not forget this. Kashaunta was the Alliance's best option, but that didn't mean she was a good one. After the Judgment, Penny would reexamine their relationship.
Valisada's eyes narrowed. "You would increase it to three planets?"
"Yes. I believe their total population is roughly 140 billion people. That equates to 70 Elders. Or 67.16, if we are being exact with the study I believe you are citing."
Penny did her best to hide her disgust but failed. Valisada took notice. "This is who you work for, Penny. This is who she really is."
Don't listen to him, Nilnacrawla said.
I know. He doesn't want what's best for us, and Kashaunta's our means to an end.
Watch you back, Penny. I'll do the same.
"I know," Penny replied. "But we don't have any other allies. You're not exactly reliable, even if you were to suspiciously flip sides and make an offer to be a new ally. Justicar is bound to his planet. The Progenitors are pulling back their influence."
"And such extreme threats as I have made would only come to fruition if a war were to break out," Kashaunta said. "I am making them so you understand the scope of your actions as a Grand Fleet Commander. Perhaps I was overly harsh, but do not mistake these threats as empty. I protect my own."
"Your own?" Valisada asked. Kashaunta flicked a claw toward Penny, without meeting her gaze. Penny was still processing the sudden escalation, which had seemingly came out of nowhere. Why was Kashaunta pretending she cared? She clearly saw Penny and the Alliance as means to an end. Perhaps even several ends.
"Penny, and those she values. I could consider the slaves as citizens of the People's Stars, for example."
"No, you could not," Justicar responded. His demeanor darkened visibly, and the lighting in the virtual reality became darker.
"Why not? You don't think they're your citizens, do you? Not much 'justice' in keeping slaves, hmm?"
This is stupid, and a waste of my time, Penny thought.
They do need a bit of an ego check, don't they? Nilnacrawla agreed.
Yes.
Penny stood up, making her chair slide backward. "Can you all quit being evil? This is ridiculous. All we need to do is sit together and draft agreements. Otherwise, leave it to the lawyers, and stop with the petty insults. Or the grave ones. You're not 5 year olds. You're billions of years old. It's honestly sad. No, it's pathetic.
How have you managed to keep your 'master race' thing going this long, when you suck this badly? Spoiled little brats. Can you believe Kashaunta told me I needed to be civilized for this meeting? Perhaps I should don a loincloth and pick up my club, so I can start hooting it up with you old primitives."
The Elders paused, looking at Penny in wonder.
"You see? Let's talk treaties. Do you guys have any ideas, or should I go get some wood for a bonfire? With how much you all talk, I'm sure your singing voices must be phenomenal."
2024.05.06 02:24 KenMac1974 Look at this the way I do!
I said this a month and half ago that if we that vested got one person to invest a less than 200$ we would have hit the hard cap. This supposed to be a community driven event that we bought into. Again I’ll say mindset. If I was having this baby, I wouldn’t leave it lying there in afterbirth, I’d would do everything possible to ensure that would make it in the deep waters, that from pen to paper I dotted all the I’s and crossed all the T’s and it safe and secure firmly placed and set up for the success I created it for, ( Thank you for doing that for us),… I know everyone knows everything about how to put in place all the protocols necessary to secure a token on the Ethereum Blockchain, and we all know the proper way to bring it to market introduce a true rival to bitcoin, but we just didn’t do it. In fact no one has til now. Scams do happen, BUT people that have the knowledge to do so, scam MILLIONS of dollars from people eventually most go to prison. If the team that created MOLLARS had the knowledge to accomplish what they have accomplished, It’s not all about getting their pockets fat, just think about it. Just like a credible business that is successful has to a business plan, websites and processes, so does a creator of a digital currency with the White Paper. Road map. Tokenomics . I firmly believe they could have created a shit coin took it live and gotten a million dollars a lot quicker. No bull shit legally. Think about it. If they could create what they have, they could have a lot easier and a lot less time and effort created Elonsbabiesmomma Inu. Tokenomics trillion coins burn one for each sold, (sounds pretty good right)spend a couple thousand to bots on media platforms to boost it and then when blows up, white paper shows that they get 10% or whatever they would make millions not two million, 30-100 million are what ever. But they created a Mollars a SVT with half the supply of Bitcoin why if you had the knowledge and know how to create what they have would you risk going to prison over a million or two million ??? And I can pretty much guess that it’s not just one person doing everything it’s a team plural so they chop it up and walk away with 400k$ if that’s the case give everyone there money back and contact me with your knowledge and my ideas, you could make millions at no risk of prison. I hope that makes sense to everyone. Scams in digital currency makes 100’s of millions of dollars a year. And most have been caught and imprisoned and the others live in fear. Now that that’s out of the way. Here’s my thoughts backed by facts and little about me. I found out about Mollars on CoinGecko and CryptoRank which reports most scams and give information about presales. After doing my due diligence I decided to buy in without going to Social media sites because I saw evidence of the potential for this project but I have never bought in a presale before because of so much crap that is out there.And I didn’t want to be swayed by the consensus of someone who is trolling or had a bad day. Historically after Bitcoin halving, which this time the data is different especially after ETF approval and BTC reaching its ATH pre halving. But after. ever crypto follows BTC Trajectory very volatile the first couple weeks I paid with Eth as some of you others. The volatility is real for a lot of reasons market conditions, investor sentiment. According to Ycharts the US investors were 32.14%bullish two weeks ago the action was sideways and /or down compared to 4 weeks ago last week was 38.49% and now that investors know what the Feds are doing with rates the market will continue as it historically does on its upward trend, and based off information that by the 31st of this month both major players will be a lot higher in price compared to the 30th of April, for Mollars investors we will have a higher evaluation and time for the management to see if any other exchanges want to play ball will be some point before the end of the month, it didn’t help that the feds aren’t lowering the rates. @mollarinvestingchad you have been a champion for this project and I don’t know what you have in this, but you are part of this community and for you to make a comment from the emotional state you were in at that was difficult to read. Let’s not forget the terms and conditions of our investment. I don’t know exactly where I saw it, but the management did apologize, but did it for the people. I have been a winner since investing and I have lost . But I stand bullish and if have an negative emotions they are kept to myself for the greater good of the community, when you have a negative feeling or attitude it’s contagious and it gives a voice to those who have been hating on this project from day one. This isn’t a rug pull Im completely confident in that, every one of us that has skin in the game needs to come together as the Mollars family and prosper and grow stronger. In every business I had expectations and goals that I was going to achieve, and some I have failed one way by not the profits I set, for unforeseen reasons because of licensing issues taking 7 months longer to get them, Covid screwed up and set back my biggest one. One of the number one selling t-shirt and koozies in the 80’s had a saying written on them that said “ Shit Happens “ the words you can put in front of that can have behind it can sway to mean it’s positive or negative. But it will always suggest a reason. And to have reason, you have action and in this case the action is for a good reason. It’s to help us grow more??! Limitless. Let’s all rally together and support our team leaders and their decisions. After I invested I went through some tough times . Where 20$ was the difference of me feeding my dog first and then myself, luckily I have been good to people and have built relationships where when I’m going through something I had basically what I consider family to help out. And everyone that knows me I always pay it forward 10 fold. You can say I’m a good guy with good moral compass, I’m a protector and I’m not one where people can confuse my kindness as weakness because I’m a warrior and have put myself in harm’s way to protect or defend someone I care for, in fact I’ve done for complete strangers. Against odds. I never cared about what people thought, I only cared for what’s right. Jumping someone because of race are religion is not right, man hitting a woman, and in my presence since I can remember those people got to know me real personal like. I am a different breed because I have witnessed events where several people could maybe prevented or stopped before I could get to them. Most of the times it wasn’t popular, but no one could say it wasn’t right. In business I have lost in the short term because of principles of different matters . I would be and I am better at face to face engagement of any kind at any time. I don’t use code names or user names that I don’t go by, And when I commit to something I’m committed.. And I believe that this is an opportunity of a lifetime for those of you that have or willing to invest and become part of this new community there’s something that has to change and it’s us it depends on us to build value and let people know that we’re part of something that is going shake up Bitcoin . I know it’s a lot easier to be negative when everyone is still trying to speculate . But I promise you, not only in this community but in every community the long term effects, the residual value and benefits of being positive and committing to apply this in everything in life , you’ll see doors open you never thought possible, you will be recognized by your peers differently, that see you as being more creative , a real one and you will become the a leader built with value, knowledge and a type of strength you have always wondered about, like how things seem so easy for some people and that tough for others. We live in a fast growing world and the Elites will somehow find a way to take away our rights to get in projects like this. I hope it doesn’t happen but we are in the fight of our lives to keep Crypto defi and unregulated but right now they haven’t and I believe this our chance and I hope it is the vision of the creators of Mollars and everyone of us see the greatness that can come for building the community for Mollars because it’s going to make Millionaires and when we become that I hope that we will want to have a clear mission to be better. Less be honest right now not one of us are whales yet. Whales move what our hard cap is daily .And the value of a 1$ dollar is something different for every person on this Earth but will not change anyone’s life for a time. But picture this, your maintain a positive mindset about your investment and you remain bullish. If see the event of turning 1$ in 2$ isn’t the attitude that we as a community should, but turning 1 Mollar into a house, or college tuition, or drinking water for a third world country. No limit mindset is truly decentralized and it’s a choice that will require discipline and accountability for how you respond and approach every decision you make. What would you do without limits. This possible and the blueprint on how to achieve is written in this comment that I hope transcends as one of the many stones to house our community needs in pursuit of the same goal, not only to profit but be better than we are now and invite someone else along with us on this limitless journey in our lives, to be better than we were the day before. To become the best version of ourselves and it is shown everywhere anywhere anytime. That we bought into one of the greatest digital assets ever created and we not only make a difference in our own lives but we are truly free to make a difference in this world. Everyone that bought in, now let’s collectively buy in this mindset that is 100 - Mollar will become as big as we imagine it to be. Let’s grow as a community and write our own future together. Don’t just read this, engage with me with your positive mindset. Share what you would like to achieve. We need to act as if, Mollars has surpassed any expectations. If we all come together with a positive message, not about the set backs we personally feel, but what you want it to be. We got hacked in the middle of presale that took time to straighten things out, but the team pulled us through. We could have lost it, but they stood up for us and now let’s stand with them. Let’s make today the best day. Everyone engage with volumes of positive expectations and we are just in overtime and we will win. Let’s everyone blow up our own social media accounts proudly explain why you are in. Let’s Go !!!!
submitted by KenMac1974 to mollarstoken [link] [comments]
2024.05.06 02:22 CrazyR0cky The Recluse In My Room Won't Stop Talking To Me...
Part One
The recluse in my room won't stop talking to me. I don't even know when it started. Once it did though, it became more and more frequent. At first I thought, maybe I was going crazy. However I had always been a bit on the mentally unwell side, to put it lightly. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in six grade. The psychiatrist said it was like I was put together wrong. The thing is he didn't just mean my internal organs, nor did he simply mean the thoughts in my head; but like something deep to the core of my very atoms was wrong. Was gross. War rotten. Was nasty. Then.. when I met Dr. Peterson is when he told me I have something against people. He told me that I seemed to have disdain for those around me. That my pain was caused by me in many ways. He wasn't wrong of course, but he could never figure out why exactly I ended up this way, and of course I could never tell him. When you tell doctors the truth, they try to hurt you. The try to send you away to that place. To the dark side of the earth. I will NOT go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there AGAIN.
So, I lied. I Said I didn't know what he meant, and that I just like to keep to myself. He wasn't wrong of course. I did have a disdain for the humanly figure. Disdain for the small minded ants that wandered the broken halls of past men many times their equal. They stand in the disrepair, and wallow in it. Not me. I could never. I am not, them. I will never be them. I will however be leaving soon. So, I needed to get this out. You might not be able to tell, but I am terrified. I am terrified of him. I am terrified of it. I am terrified of me. However, I am most terrified of the spider. No matter what it says to me. The brown recluse that follows me into my dreams, it tells me to not fear it. It tells me to not fear it while it plunges it's incisors down into my forearm, and pushes the venomous liquid out of it's body into mine. Sucking away the little life I have, while plunging in new disease on top of disease. In order to understand my fear, to understand my pain, to understand the bottomless stairs to the lair of hell which innocent souls go. Then let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back.
I was thirteen when I was diagnosed with an auto immune disorder, I wasn't surprised, even back then. Sickness, disease, and torture seemed to follow members of my family wherever they went. Take my grandmother for example. She had led a very good life. A modest, God fearing life. Ya know where that got her? Laying six feet deep, after a years long struggle from oral cancer. The woman never chewed tobacco in her life, never so much as laid a finger on any drug, and never did anything bad to anyone in her entire life. Yet, she still moved onward to the dark abyss that we call death. Now I'm alone. I'm alone, and that spider knew it. It knew when I was watching it. It knew when I was thinking about it even. It knew. It always knew. It knew that the one person I had left, was gone.
My grandmother was my favorite person. She helped me when I needed it most. She came to me when I was down. She came to me when I was blue. She came to me, when the spider wouldn't leave and wanted you. Now she sits down, down down down. Down in the murky waters of soot and sand. I will go down there one day too. Honestly, I hope I go down further. I would rather burn in hell for the reset of eternity than allow my consciousness to go straight into an endless abyss of darkness and loneliness coagulating into the oozing mud that is the pitch black. It isn't my choice though now is it. See my grandmother always terrified me. This is one of the reasons that I love what scares me. I love the excitement. I love the thrill, but I also loved her. My grandmother was a child of four. She was a beautiful girl, but her mother hated her for it. As the eldest, her mother would always tell her that she had a face only a mother could love. That no man should ever want her.
When she entered high school though, that wasn't quite true. When she finally found a man that she cared for, her mother enraged with jealousy of her beauty, youth, and freedom decided to rob her of it. She decided that if she should suffer, so should her daughter. So, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a pot. She seared it on the low burning flame, and added oil until it popped. Then when my grandmother came home, she splashed a pot of boiling oil on the side of her face. It caused the skin of half of her face to melt, and droop downward like melting wax. Only for the oil to leave her face and the skin that melted downward hardened in various spots. Creating this crater effect on half of my grandmother's face. My great grandmother finally made her wish and statements come true, my grandmother had a face only a mother could love. That was until I came along. I see my grandmother for what she is. A beautiful woman, with the soul of an angel and the face of a loving goddess. As I said before, tragedy and despair follow my family like vultures. Waiting for dead corpses to pile up so that they might chew away at the last remaining fabric of their skin.
Most people think of me as an outcast. I never cared. I always thought that the best thing I could be, is alone. I was always sick everyone said. No one knew quite how sick I was, or what type of illness I bear. People told me I had my weaknesses, like my immune system. My immune system has always been somewhat confused, it seems to think that I am the foreign body. That mere consumption provide enough reason, to rid the body of itself. This caused me much pain, mentally and physically. However, no one told me I also had my strengths. I had to find that out for myself. See when no one bothered me, my brain could be set free. I could see anything I wished. Feel anything I wanted to. It all started when I was very young. I used to sit in my room for hours and talk to my friends, some of them more real than others. I had a friend named Koby. He was my most real friend.
I met Koby at elementary school, a private school where everyone except me was laced with hundred dollar bills. Koby’s family was also wealthy, but he was different from other people too. He didn’t understand when people made fun of him, why people made fun of him. He was naïve. Me on the other hand, I watched everyone. Judged everyone, just like they judged me. I got a cheaper entry in to my school due to my grandmother working at the school office. After summer ended people would come into class and the teacher would inevitably ask “What did you do this summer class?”. Everyone else either went to Greece, Italy, Rome, Japan, or some other foreign country. They were different than me, and they made sure I knew it. Not Koby though. Koby never asked me about my money, and we liked some of the same things. People would tease us and call us gay, because we liked “girly shows on the Disney channel”. We both came from a perspective of liking what we like unapologetically, at first.
We did indeed have a close and personal friendship, the kind young boys who care not about societal boundaries have. We would throw each other over one another’s heads in his pool mimicking wrestling moves. Imitating Randy Orten, and Brock Lesnar as if we were lumbering monsters of flesh and bones. Sometimes we would get hurt, bang our head in to the wrong object, or hit something too hard; only to console each other as to not cry and get in trouble. We also would make short films that ranged from comedy to action, and we replicated the bad language we saw online. We loved choreographing fake sword fights, and I always loved living as a swordsman in my head. Imagining chopping apart opponents, limb by limb as I dismantle their world and build my own. I also always wanted to act. I thought I was quite good at keeping on masks. Never relenting on an unending character, the likes of which only I know are fake. Koby and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot though. He was a huge fan of childish games, while I liked things to be a bit more advanced and difficult. He thought random curse words were funny, while I felt my taste a little more sophisticated. Did I feel superior to him? In some ways yes. It didn’t matter though, what mattered is they didn’t like him almost as much as they hated me. That helped us bond.
Then one day something changed. Koby changed, he became one of them. Koby began to play into their jokes. Tried to be what they wanted him to be, a clown. The bullying got worse, and worse. It started with calling us gay, use the f slur towards us, and other homophobic slurs. It then turned in to physical violence. People slapping us, using us as punching bags. I was a big kid. I think they enjoyed the idea of having power over someone larger than them.
One day during basketball, we were playing knock out. During Koby’s turn, one of the kids James went up to him and punched him directly in the eye. He did this due to being “knocked out” moments prior in the game by Koby. Having had enough, I immediately threw my basketball at the kids head, and moved to begin smashing his skull with my bare knuckles. Gnarling, and utilizing years of frustration I lunged at James. Rather than joining me in fighting him, Koby stopped me. He stood between me and James. He apologized to James profusely begging for his forgiveness, and scolded me. Told me how evil I was for simply fighting back. I had never felt more embarassed. More betrayed. The person I called a friend, would stop me from protecting him, and make me look like a weak fool in front of everyone. He cared more about his image to them, the people who didn’t like him to begin with than the will and anger his own “friend”. I would never stoop so low as to let the people who berated me, who hurt me choose who I become or what actions I take. That’s when I realized my “real” friend, wasn’t so real at all. I gladly accepted that I would never protect another being again.
After he stopped me, he became close with the people we once loathed. He would go on to spend time with them, join their clubs, go to their birthday’s. He was no longer the Koby I was once tolerated, and was now something very different. I hated him, at first. That was until he became comfortable enough with them, so comfortable he told them my deepest darkest secrets. The boys that had been scolding us, making us feel like nothing for years, he told them of my abuse. He told them of my desires, and of my fears. He told them who I enjoyed spending time with, what kinds of media I enjoyed, and what goals I had. He told them. That is what matters, and that is unforgivable. When I told him that what I thought about him, when I let him know how small of an ant he truly was to me, that’s when the voices around me became more than real. In a way they were the truth. They never lied to me. They always told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear. They never judged me when I was wrong. So, when I was by myself… I was never truly alone. Some of them have names, others are a faint whisper. An echo of the wills of the past. A presence, that is not quite understood.
See I grew up in a trailer park. That is why the rich kids would never like me. I wore the same tattered uniform to school every day. Never having enough change to purchase a hot lunch, always begging the school for free food just to eat for that day. I never really thought much of my family’s money, or lack thereof. I somewhat liked living at the trailer park. I had acquaintances of all backgrounds, ethnicities, nationalities, languages you name it. However, people knew of me, but no one knew me. I would put on a front, and call myself by different names just to toy with people. Sometimes I would do different accents, to see how long it would take for someone to realize how fake it was. I always liked playing tricks on people, it’s one thing that often alienated me more than anything else. I didn’t care. I saw it as more of an art than anything. Plus never letting anyone in on the joke, made it all the more special. Only I could control what others knew of me. I was the bottle neck for that pipeline of information.
One trick I used to play on my neighbor Darren was exceedingly hilarious, but he didn’t like it much at all. He had a cat, it was a black and white cat named Moo that loved all the kids in the neighborhood. Except me. It would always scratch at me when it saw me, hiss like I was some monster. One thing that no one liked however, is that this cat meowed as loud as a Bostonian woman in the middle of an orgasm. Every single night, throughout the neighborhood it would whale on. It kept me up at night as a child, and made my dog anxious too. I always prayed that cat would get hit by a car, or smashed by a falling anvil. One day my wish must have come true. One day, the cat stopped meowing. Some say the cat got skittish, ran off, and got lost. I think differently. I think someone killed that cat. Someone took matters into their own hands, and good for them. When there is an annoyance, I say end it. People always get so sentimental over things like death. I find death to be peaceful, inviting. Warm.
However, even with Moo gone Darren and I still didn’t get along. He hated my dog, and blamed me for his cat going missing. So, one night I found an old recording on my phone. It was the cat meowing in the backyard. So I took my speaker over to Darren’s house, and played it at just the right volume to make it sound like the cat was at his gate. He got up moments later, and ran downstairs, searching for his cat. The way his face shimmered with mere glimpses of hope, and happiness only to give way to utter defeat and despair really put a smile on my face. The deep smile he had, turning in to a frightful scowl made my night perfect. His misery for some reason provided me with a level of comfort, knowing I could control someone’s emotions with such ease. It felt right. It felt like a power, that I deserved. Darren later that week would tell all the neighbors, and the neighbors started keeping an eye out too. The cat was never found, so they say. I think differently.
These days I don’t play many tricks on people at all. These days I’ve lost my power. I stay inside, away from those who can harm me. Free from everything of the societal world. Free to roam the mind that I so desperately aimed to understand in it’s entirety. Voices, that need to be satiated with conversations only I can have with myself. This is the only way to truly escape. The only way to be truly, and utterly free.
Day 3
I sit here on my couch. Staring at a blank screen ahead of me. Thinking not of the future, but of the past. I look fondly on my childhood memories. Moments with my parents where we would go on glorious adventures, filled with frights and delights all the same. One I recall is going to Bodega Bay with my father. We were roaming through beach caves, as the tide began to rise. I was with another child I met on the playground, and at a moments notice we were nearly trapped in the cave unable to get out. Luckily the other child’s father was able to get in the cave, and get us out. I hate to think what might have happened, had that man not been there on that day.
I think fondly of my school memories. While I had some friends, I mostly stuck to my studies. I was able to move forward, and at least pass my classes with relative ease. I always procrastinated, which gave me a lot of anxiety. I continued to do so anyway. By the time I reached high school I was able to graduate at 16. This made me ecstatic, because I no longer had to attend the high school that bored me so deeply. I was then able to take online classes for school, limiting my contact with others. Most see this as negative, I loved it dearly. I always felt I excelled when I worked on my own, rather than in teams. They always slowed me down anyway.
Today I sit quietly, in silence. Except for the sound of a child. The neighbor downstairs keeps a little brat that begs for attention all day long. Sometimes that baby reminds me of my neighbors cat when I was a child. It’s a long story, maybe we’ll get to it some other time.
Considering this to be the case, I was also still what you might consider to be anti-social. I did not like people, and most people did not like me. Once I learned how much I loved spending time with myself, this seemingly just got worse. Once I entered high school I realized how different I still was. No one here was significantly richer than anyone else, but I still felt a barrier separating me from them. I did find a small group of misfits however, to waste my time with at lunch. Even then I often still sat silently, while everyone else clambered on.
Even in this group, I still felt utterly alone. What I did enjoy however, was that my mere presence to them was somewhat of a trick. I did not care for these people. Yet they seemed to believe that simply because I was there, that I somehow cared about them. They also seemed to enjoy the embodiment of mystery I took on. I would rarely provide any information about myself, and when I did I would still commonly lie. Lie about who I had been with, what I had done, what I accomplished, what I had faith in. They believed it, for a time.
It all started to come apart, when Jada came around. Jada always seemed to take an interest in me. I didn’t really understand why. I never paid her any attention, and when I did it was always quick, simple, and to the point. Maybe my lack of interest in her, is what caused her interest in me. Either way, it wasn’t a good decision for her. I never have cared much for how my actions effected others. Nor have I ever really considered what would happen, if my lies were to be discovered. It just doesn’t matter to me, and typically I don’t stay around others long enough to be figured out anyway. Jada however, stuck to me like glue.
Anywhere I would go she would follow, with sad puppy dog eyes. Begging for attention. To be honest on some level I thought it was quite adorable, but also relished in the idea that I might be able to exert some sort of romantic power over someone. She was going to provide that to me. So, I fed in to her ways. I told her what she wanted to hear. I told her that she made me feel ways no one else ever had, which was completely fabricated. Pulled from thin air. I did not love this girl. I loved what she could do for me. I loved how I could make myself feel with her, and now that I had a taste of it I loved that power. That was, until she started to push back.
For a while I thought I was untouchable, I thought no one could break the spell I had on Jada. Any time I would ask her to be somewhere, she would be in an instant. It did not matter the time or the place. I could tell her any lie, ask her to complete any task and she would believe it or complete it. I had her fully in the palm of my hand with a firm grasp, until others in our little group started to get in to her head. They started to realize that some of my stories, didn’t quite add up. They saw how Jada spent her time with me. How she was at my every beck and call. That she would give up anything for me, yet I would give up nothing for her. They were jealous. They wanted to have that control over somebody, but they never could. They were never smart enough, never talented enough to do so. They told her that I was no good for her, that I was using her.
Make no mistake, I was using her. Isn’t that what love is? One using another person, to find some bliss. Some happiness which they can’t find elsewhere? Why am I wrong for doing the same. She provided me pleasure, I provided her with some in return. Sounds like a fair transaction to me. Besides, who are they however to interfere with my life. With my people. With my toys. When she finally told me she never wanted to see me again, I knew she was lying. She wanted me more than ever. Wanted to fix me. Wanted to make me hers, but she would only ever be mine to toy with. I was unfixable, because I wasn’t broken. It was everyone else that needed fixing, I was simply playing the game. Not long after Jada said that to me, I was excised from our group.
They thought of me as a dirty liar, who they couldn’t trust. It’s not my fault I played with those who are easily fooled, preyed on what made them weak. I was simply showing them what they were doing wrong. What they could do better. I knew from then on that the only person who understood me was the people I spoke to when I as alone. They knew me better than I knew myself. They knew what I wanted, what I could do. They had faith in me. That’s when I knew I needed to keep myself low. Put away. Kept neatly in a box, so that way I could ascertain my full potential. Once again I realized, only then could I be free. People, even as my toys were more detrimental to me than anything else. I loved being alone, but more importantly I thrived in it.
Once I started staying away, keeping to myself. I realized love was not what I had been told. Love was not for others, but for the feeling one can attain from the power it provides. With other humans that power is fleeting, but with one’s self it remains until your eminent death. With only myself in my home is when I found my first true love aside from loneliness. Cutting. Utilizing a blade to make the marks on my skin which I now define as art. A knife’s place is meant to be against the skin of a being. It fits so fluidly down the fold of one’s figure, like a figure skater dancing around an icy path with the blades on their feet. Leaving behind trails of love, despair, pain, and joy.
I swear it was an accident at first. I was in the kitchen one day, angry that I couldn’t understand myself. Why I felt the way I felt about life. Angry that I felt abandoned, without a mentor to assist me in both my strengths and my weaknesses. That’s when I instinctively took a knife angled it directly downward with both hands grasping it, and I slammed it straight down in to a cutting board. Little did I know that my hand would slide on to the knife as the impact was made with the board. My white tendons on the left side of my inner right palm, sliced open. Bleeding profusely.
My anger swelled in that moment, and manifested in immense pain that synergized and gave me something I had never quite felt like that before. Euphoria. Pure, and utter bliss. In that moment I felt aroused, excited, ready for something to happen. Nothing did. As my feelings of euphoria began to fade away, I was left with the slide in my hand from the blade. Blood dripping all over the cutting board, and the counter beside it. Crimson red splattered behind the board, leaving a bloody mess to clean up. I quickly applied pressure, and got a bandaid from the bathroom sink. Applied it, and sopped up the red stained tile with paper towels. As I did so it occurred to me, that feeling can be replicated again. All I needed was a knife, and a will to achieve nirvana. With blood spilt, it would be far easier the next time.
Day 5
Today I find myself on the floor of the kitchen. Staring at the ceiling, thinking of past relationships. The wrongs, the rights. What I did, what I didn’t do. What could have been, and what never will be. These things I find fascinating as a self-exploration exercise. What could I have done wrong to the woman that I once said I loved, so much so that she deems it necessary not to speak to me again. Did I do anything wrong to begin with? Is it true that she will never speak to me again? I find it doubtful, although I do not put myself in high regard on this situation either. I called her my baby doll, because that is what she is for me. I just want her back. Sometimes. However, I want her back for me. She wants me back for her. Maybe we can meet in the middle.
I think of my parents and what they didn’t do for me as a child. They weren’t model citizens, but they also weren’t terrible parents. They just didn’t know how to raise a child, and honestly who the hell does? I fault them not for what they did, but for allowing themselves to have a child in the first place when they were not ready. Bringing a child in to a world you are not prepared for let alone them, is downright despicable. A selfish and vile act of pure arrogance of nature. The arrogance of two to think love is enough to fill the stomach of their child.
Children deserve to be nourished and cared for. They deserve to prosper and have what is needed at their fingertips to grow. Anything below what you are most capable of is a disappointment, however being short of the basic necessities is abuse. This is why I would never have a child, I am not ready nor am I sure that I could truly care. If I could not care, but fake it would that be equally meaningful as a father who truly loves their child? Is it a father a child needs? Or does a child just need a figure. Someone, anyone to emulate. For finding your own way, and your own emulation in the world is the scariest task one might undergo.
Take the child downstairs for example. It cries non-stop, yet the parents do nothing to satiate the child. Whaling on and on. I could never understand bearing your carbon copy, only to neglect them. Why copy yourself to begin with. Let the branch of life come to an end. Let it fizzle out of the universe alongside that great big ball of fire we call a sun. Let us fizzle out like the final firework in the night sky during a Fourth Of July display. Burning ever so slightly less until the stars of the galaxy swallow the light whole, leaving nothing left to be devoured.
At 3 years old, I had my first encounter with this terrestrial alien. The spider that bit me injected me with enough poison to kill a small horse, so the doctor laid me down; She looked over, and with a big smile she said those famous words. “This won’t hurt a bit”. She put no numbing injections, she simply wiped the site clean, and began cutting. Sawing away at my tiny toddler stomach, slowly making their way through layers of fresh, soft, smooth skin. I remember nothing but warm tears streaming down my face as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Screaming at a rate I as a child had not even yet known. The screams of pain, they are unique. People can attempt to mimic them, but the true scream of torture and death is one so blood curddling that it makes your skin crawl. As a child you know only playful screams, this was my first introduction to what pain in the real world looked like. I just so happened to be it’s next patient.
I remember the pain, the cold feeling of blood pouring down my side, and screaming for my father. Yet, my father was the one to hold me down when I started kicking at the doctor from the pain. Rather than force them to stop cutting into a child without some type of anesthetic, he continued to hold my arms and legs as the doctor cut away. My greatest support system, to betray me in such a way. To take the trust of a child and crush it. After that session, I never trusted doctor’s again. I surely, never trusted a spider. That was until now.
That’s because even if the spider in my room were poisonous… It meant me no harm. Even if it did need to nest, and lay eggs it would not do so in my body. Even if it needed sustenance, it would not come in my direction. At least, that’s what it told me. That's what it told me as it's incisors pinched it's way into my arm once again, numbing the area unlike the doctor that went to work on me as a child. As I stare into it's eyes, I realized... I was scared. I was more than scared, for once... I was terrified. For my entire life, I was the one to induce fear in others. Now, that fear was being induced in me. So I am here. I am here to tell you. Until I am not. Let these words keep you from the spiders. Do not talk to them. Do not listen to them.
Do not be afraid. Even though deep down... fear consumes me.
submitted by CrazyR0cky to Horror_stories [link] [comments]
The recluse in my room won't stop talking to me. I don't even know when it started. Once it did though, it became more and more frequent. At first I thought, maybe I was going crazy. However I had always been a bit on the mentally unwell side, to put it lightly. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in six grade. The psychiatrist said it was like I was put together wrong. The thing is he didn't just mean my internal organs, nor did he simply mean the thoughts in my head; but like something deep to the core of my very atoms was wrong. Was gross. War rotten. Was nasty. Then.. when I met Dr. Peterson is when he told me I have something against people. He told me that I seemed to have disdain for those around me. That my pain was caused by me in many ways. He wasn't wrong of course, but he could never figure out why exactly I ended up this way, and of course I could never tell him. When you tell doctors the truth, they try to hurt you. The try to send you away to that place. To the dark side of the earth. I will NOT go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there AGAIN.
So, I lied. I Said I didn't know what he meant, and that I just like to keep to myself. He wasn't wrong of course. I did have a disdain for the humanly figure. Disdain for the small minded ants that wandered the broken halls of past men many times their equal. They stand in the disrepair, and wallow in it. Not me. I could never. I am not, them. I will never be them. I will however be leaving soon. So, I needed to get this out. You might not be able to tell, but I am terrified. I am terrified of him. I am terrified of it. I am terrified of me. However, I am most terrified of the spider. No matter what it says to me. The brown recluse that follows me into my dreams, it tells me to not fear it. It tells me to not fear it while it plunges it's incisors down into my forearm, and pushes the venomous liquid out of it's body into mine. Sucking away the little life I have, while plunging in new disease on top of disease. In order to understand my fear, to understand my pain, to understand the bottomless stairs to the lair of hell which innocent souls go. Then let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back.
I was thirteen when I was diagnosed with an auto immune disorder, I wasn't surprised, even back then. Sickness, disease, and torture seemed to follow members of my family wherever they went. Take my grandmother for example. She had led a very good life. A modest, God fearing life. Ya know where that got her? Laying six feet deep, after a years long struggle from oral cancer. The woman never chewed tobacco in her life, never so much as laid a finger on any drug, and never did anything bad to anyone in her entire life. Yet, she still moved onward to the dark abyss that we call death. Now I'm alone. I'm alone, and that spider knew it. It knew when I was watching it. It knew when I was thinking about it even. It knew. It always knew. It knew that the one person I had left, was gone.
My grandmother was my favorite person. She helped me when I needed it most. She came to me when I was down. She came to me when I was blue. She came to me, when the spider wouldn't leave and wanted you. Now she sits down, down down down. Down in the murky waters of soot and sand. I will go down there one day too. Honestly, I hope I go down further. I would rather burn in hell for the reset of eternity than allow my consciousness to go straight into an endless abyss of darkness and loneliness coagulating into the oozing mud that is the pitch black. It isn't my choice though now is it. See my grandmother always terrified me. This is one of the reasons that I love what scares me. I love the excitement. I love the thrill, but I also loved her. My grandmother was a child of four. She was a beautiful girl, but her mother hated her for it. As the eldest, her mother would always tell her that she had a face only a mother could love. That no man should ever want her.
When she entered high school though, that wasn't quite true. When she finally found a man that she cared for, her mother enraged with jealousy of her beauty, youth, and freedom decided to rob her of it. She decided that if she should suffer, so should her daughter. So, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a pot. She seared it on the low burning flame, and added oil until it popped. Then when my grandmother came home, she splashed a pot of boiling oil on the side of her face. It caused the skin of half of her face to melt, and droop downward like melting wax. Only for the oil to leave her face and the skin that melted downward hardened in various spots. Creating this crater effect on half of my grandmother's face. My great grandmother finally made her wish and statements come true, my grandmother had a face only a mother could love. That was until I came along. I see my grandmother for what she is. A beautiful woman, with the soul of an angel and the face of a loving goddess. As I said before, tragedy and despair follow my family like vultures. Waiting for dead corpses to pile up so that they might chew away at the last remaining fabric of their skin.
Most people think of me as an outcast. I never cared. I always thought that the best thing I could be, is alone. I was always sick everyone said. No one knew quite how sick I was, or what type of illness I bear. People told me I had my weaknesses, like my immune system. My immune system has always been somewhat confused, it seems to think that I am the foreign body. That mere consumption provide enough reason, to rid the body of itself. This caused me much pain, mentally and physically. However, no one told me I also had my strengths. I had to find that out for myself. See when no one bothered me, my brain could be set free. I could see anything I wished. Feel anything I wanted to. It all started when I was very young. I used to sit in my room for hours and talk to my friends, some of them more real than others. I had a friend named Koby. He was my most real friend.
I met Koby at elementary school, a private school where everyone except me was laced with hundred dollar bills. Koby’s family was also wealthy, but he was different from other people too. He didn’t understand when people made fun of him, why people made fun of him. He was naïve. Me on the other hand, I watched everyone. Judged everyone, just like they judged me. I got a cheaper entry in to my school due to my grandmother working at the school office. After summer ended people would come into class and the teacher would inevitably ask “What did you do this summer class?”. Everyone else either went to Greece, Italy, Rome, Japan, or some other foreign country. They were different than me, and they made sure I knew it. Not Koby though. Koby never asked me about my money, and we liked some of the same things. People would tease us and call us gay, because we liked “girly shows on the Disney channel”. We both came from a perspective of liking what we like unapologetically, at first.
We did indeed have a close and personal friendship, the kind young boys who care not about societal boundaries have. We would throw each other over one another’s heads in his pool mimicking wrestling moves. Imitating Randy Orten, and Brock Lesnar as if we were lumbering monsters of flesh and bones. Sometimes we would get hurt, bang our head in to the wrong object, or hit something too hard; only to console each other as to not cry and get in trouble. We also would make short films that ranged from comedy to action, and we replicated the bad language we saw online. We loved choreographing fake sword fights, and I always loved living as a swordsman in my head. Imagining chopping apart opponents, limb by limb as I dismantle their world and build my own. I also always wanted to act. I thought I was quite good at keeping on masks. Never relenting on an unending character, the likes of which only I know are fake. Koby and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot though. He was a huge fan of childish games, while I liked things to be a bit more advanced and difficult. He thought random curse words were funny, while I felt my taste a little more sophisticated. Did I feel superior to him? In some ways yes. It didn’t matter though, what mattered is they didn’t like him almost as much as they hated me. That helped us bond.
Then one day something changed. Koby changed, he became one of them. Koby began to play into their jokes. Tried to be what they wanted him to be, a clown. The bullying got worse, and worse. It started with calling us gay, use the f slur towards us, and other homophobic slurs. It then turned in to physical violence. People slapping us, using us as punching bags. I was a big kid. I think they enjoyed the idea of having power over someone larger than them.
One day during basketball, we were playing knock out. During Koby’s turn, one of the kids James went up to him and punched him directly in the eye. He did this due to being “knocked out” moments prior in the game by Koby. Having had enough, I immediately threw my basketball at the kids head, and moved to begin smashing his skull with my bare knuckles. Gnarling, and utilizing years of frustration I lunged at James. Rather than joining me in fighting him, Koby stopped me. He stood between me and James. He apologized to James profusely begging for his forgiveness, and scolded me. Told me how evil I was for simply fighting back. I had never felt more embarassed. More betrayed. The person I called a friend, would stop me from protecting him, and make me look like a weak fool in front of everyone. He cared more about his image to them, the people who didn’t like him to begin with than the will and anger his own “friend”. I would never stoop so low as to let the people who berated me, who hurt me choose who I become or what actions I take. That’s when I realized my “real” friend, wasn’t so real at all. I gladly accepted that I would never protect another being again.
After he stopped me, he became close with the people we once loathed. He would go on to spend time with them, join their clubs, go to their birthday’s. He was no longer the Koby I was once tolerated, and was now something very different. I hated him, at first. That was until he became comfortable enough with them, so comfortable he told them my deepest darkest secrets. The boys that had been scolding us, making us feel like nothing for years, he told them of my abuse. He told them of my desires, and of my fears. He told them who I enjoyed spending time with, what kinds of media I enjoyed, and what goals I had. He told them. That is what matters, and that is unforgivable. When I told him that what I thought about him, when I let him know how small of an ant he truly was to me, that’s when the voices around me became more than real. In a way they were the truth. They never lied to me. They always told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear. They never judged me when I was wrong. So, when I was by myself… I was never truly alone. Some of them have names, others are a faint whisper. An echo of the wills of the past. A presence, that is not quite understood.
See I grew up in a trailer park. That is why the rich kids would never like me. I wore the same tattered uniform to school every day. Never having enough change to purchase a hot lunch, always begging the school for free food just to eat for that day. I never really thought much of my family’s money, or lack thereof. I somewhat liked living at the trailer park. I had acquaintances of all backgrounds, ethnicities, nationalities, languages you name it. However, people knew of me, but no one knew me. I would put on a front, and call myself by different names just to toy with people. Sometimes I would do different accents, to see how long it would take for someone to realize how fake it was. I always liked playing tricks on people, it’s one thing that often alienated me more than anything else. I didn’t care. I saw it as more of an art than anything. Plus never letting anyone in on the joke, made it all the more special. Only I could control what others knew of me. I was the bottle neck for that pipeline of information.
One trick I used to play on my neighbor Darren was exceedingly hilarious, but he didn’t like it much at all. He had a cat, it was a black and white cat named Moo that loved all the kids in the neighborhood. Except me. It would always scratch at me when it saw me, hiss like I was some monster. One thing that no one liked however, is that this cat meowed as loud as a Bostonian woman in the middle of an orgasm. Every single night, throughout the neighborhood it would whale on. It kept me up at night as a child, and made my dog anxious too. I always prayed that cat would get hit by a car, or smashed by a falling anvil. One day my wish must have come true. One day, the cat stopped meowing. Some say the cat got skittish, ran off, and got lost. I think differently. I think someone killed that cat. Someone took matters into their own hands, and good for them. When there is an annoyance, I say end it. People always get so sentimental over things like death. I find death to be peaceful, inviting. Warm.
However, even with Moo gone Darren and I still didn’t get along. He hated my dog, and blamed me for his cat going missing. So, one night I found an old recording on my phone. It was the cat meowing in the backyard. So I took my speaker over to Darren’s house, and played it at just the right volume to make it sound like the cat was at his gate. He got up moments later, and ran downstairs, searching for his cat. The way his face shimmered with mere glimpses of hope, and happiness only to give way to utter defeat and despair really put a smile on my face. The deep smile he had, turning in to a frightful scowl made my night perfect. His misery for some reason provided me with a level of comfort, knowing I could control someone’s emotions with such ease. It felt right. It felt like a power, that I deserved. Darren later that week would tell all the neighbors, and the neighbors started keeping an eye out too. The cat was never found, so they say. I think differently.
These days I don’t play many tricks on people at all. These days I’ve lost my power. I stay inside, away from those who can harm me. Free from everything of the societal world. Free to roam the mind that I so desperately aimed to understand in it’s entirety. Voices, that need to be satiated with conversations only I can have with myself. This is the only way to truly escape. The only way to be truly, and utterly free.
Day 3
I sit here on my couch. Staring at a blank screen ahead of me. Thinking not of the future, but of the past. I look fondly on my childhood memories. Moments with my parents where we would go on glorious adventures, filled with frights and delights all the same. One I recall is going to Bodega Bay with my father. We were roaming through beach caves, as the tide began to rise. I was with another child I met on the playground, and at a moments notice we were nearly trapped in the cave unable to get out. Luckily the other child’s father was able to get in the cave, and get us out. I hate to think what might have happened, had that man not been there on that day.
I think fondly of my school memories. While I had some friends, I mostly stuck to my studies. I was able to move forward, and at least pass my classes with relative ease. I always procrastinated, which gave me a lot of anxiety. I continued to do so anyway. By the time I reached high school I was able to graduate at 16. This made me ecstatic, because I no longer had to attend the high school that bored me so deeply. I was then able to take online classes for school, limiting my contact with others. Most see this as negative, I loved it dearly. I always felt I excelled when I worked on my own, rather than in teams. They always slowed me down anyway.
Today I sit quietly, in silence. Except for the sound of a child. The neighbor downstairs keeps a little brat that begs for attention all day long. Sometimes that baby reminds me of my neighbors cat when I was a child. It’s a long story, maybe we’ll get to it some other time.
- Nicholas Anderson
Considering this to be the case, I was also still what you might consider to be anti-social. I did not like people, and most people did not like me. Once I learned how much I loved spending time with myself, this seemingly just got worse. Once I entered high school I realized how different I still was. No one here was significantly richer than anyone else, but I still felt a barrier separating me from them. I did find a small group of misfits however, to waste my time with at lunch. Even then I often still sat silently, while everyone else clambered on.
Even in this group, I still felt utterly alone. What I did enjoy however, was that my mere presence to them was somewhat of a trick. I did not care for these people. Yet they seemed to believe that simply because I was there, that I somehow cared about them. They also seemed to enjoy the embodiment of mystery I took on. I would rarely provide any information about myself, and when I did I would still commonly lie. Lie about who I had been with, what I had done, what I accomplished, what I had faith in. They believed it, for a time.
It all started to come apart, when Jada came around. Jada always seemed to take an interest in me. I didn’t really understand why. I never paid her any attention, and when I did it was always quick, simple, and to the point. Maybe my lack of interest in her, is what caused her interest in me. Either way, it wasn’t a good decision for her. I never have cared much for how my actions effected others. Nor have I ever really considered what would happen, if my lies were to be discovered. It just doesn’t matter to me, and typically I don’t stay around others long enough to be figured out anyway. Jada however, stuck to me like glue.
Anywhere I would go she would follow, with sad puppy dog eyes. Begging for attention. To be honest on some level I thought it was quite adorable, but also relished in the idea that I might be able to exert some sort of romantic power over someone. She was going to provide that to me. So, I fed in to her ways. I told her what she wanted to hear. I told her that she made me feel ways no one else ever had, which was completely fabricated. Pulled from thin air. I did not love this girl. I loved what she could do for me. I loved how I could make myself feel with her, and now that I had a taste of it I loved that power. That was, until she started to push back.
For a while I thought I was untouchable, I thought no one could break the spell I had on Jada. Any time I would ask her to be somewhere, she would be in an instant. It did not matter the time or the place. I could tell her any lie, ask her to complete any task and she would believe it or complete it. I had her fully in the palm of my hand with a firm grasp, until others in our little group started to get in to her head. They started to realize that some of my stories, didn’t quite add up. They saw how Jada spent her time with me. How she was at my every beck and call. That she would give up anything for me, yet I would give up nothing for her. They were jealous. They wanted to have that control over somebody, but they never could. They were never smart enough, never talented enough to do so. They told her that I was no good for her, that I was using her.
Make no mistake, I was using her. Isn’t that what love is? One using another person, to find some bliss. Some happiness which they can’t find elsewhere? Why am I wrong for doing the same. She provided me pleasure, I provided her with some in return. Sounds like a fair transaction to me. Besides, who are they however to interfere with my life. With my people. With my toys. When she finally told me she never wanted to see me again, I knew she was lying. She wanted me more than ever. Wanted to fix me. Wanted to make me hers, but she would only ever be mine to toy with. I was unfixable, because I wasn’t broken. It was everyone else that needed fixing, I was simply playing the game. Not long after Jada said that to me, I was excised from our group.
They thought of me as a dirty liar, who they couldn’t trust. It’s not my fault I played with those who are easily fooled, preyed on what made them weak. I was simply showing them what they were doing wrong. What they could do better. I knew from then on that the only person who understood me was the people I spoke to when I as alone. They knew me better than I knew myself. They knew what I wanted, what I could do. They had faith in me. That’s when I knew I needed to keep myself low. Put away. Kept neatly in a box, so that way I could ascertain my full potential. Once again I realized, only then could I be free. People, even as my toys were more detrimental to me than anything else. I loved being alone, but more importantly I thrived in it.
Once I started staying away, keeping to myself. I realized love was not what I had been told. Love was not for others, but for the feeling one can attain from the power it provides. With other humans that power is fleeting, but with one’s self it remains until your eminent death. With only myself in my home is when I found my first true love aside from loneliness. Cutting. Utilizing a blade to make the marks on my skin which I now define as art. A knife’s place is meant to be against the skin of a being. It fits so fluidly down the fold of one’s figure, like a figure skater dancing around an icy path with the blades on their feet. Leaving behind trails of love, despair, pain, and joy.
I swear it was an accident at first. I was in the kitchen one day, angry that I couldn’t understand myself. Why I felt the way I felt about life. Angry that I felt abandoned, without a mentor to assist me in both my strengths and my weaknesses. That’s when I instinctively took a knife angled it directly downward with both hands grasping it, and I slammed it straight down in to a cutting board. Little did I know that my hand would slide on to the knife as the impact was made with the board. My white tendons on the left side of my inner right palm, sliced open. Bleeding profusely.
My anger swelled in that moment, and manifested in immense pain that synergized and gave me something I had never quite felt like that before. Euphoria. Pure, and utter bliss. In that moment I felt aroused, excited, ready for something to happen. Nothing did. As my feelings of euphoria began to fade away, I was left with the slide in my hand from the blade. Blood dripping all over the cutting board, and the counter beside it. Crimson red splattered behind the board, leaving a bloody mess to clean up. I quickly applied pressure, and got a bandaid from the bathroom sink. Applied it, and sopped up the red stained tile with paper towels. As I did so it occurred to me, that feeling can be replicated again. All I needed was a knife, and a will to achieve nirvana. With blood spilt, it would be far easier the next time.
Day 5
Today I find myself on the floor of the kitchen. Staring at the ceiling, thinking of past relationships. The wrongs, the rights. What I did, what I didn’t do. What could have been, and what never will be. These things I find fascinating as a self-exploration exercise. What could I have done wrong to the woman that I once said I loved, so much so that she deems it necessary not to speak to me again. Did I do anything wrong to begin with? Is it true that she will never speak to me again? I find it doubtful, although I do not put myself in high regard on this situation either. I called her my baby doll, because that is what she is for me. I just want her back. Sometimes. However, I want her back for me. She wants me back for her. Maybe we can meet in the middle.
I think of my parents and what they didn’t do for me as a child. They weren’t model citizens, but they also weren’t terrible parents. They just didn’t know how to raise a child, and honestly who the hell does? I fault them not for what they did, but for allowing themselves to have a child in the first place when they were not ready. Bringing a child in to a world you are not prepared for let alone them, is downright despicable. A selfish and vile act of pure arrogance of nature. The arrogance of two to think love is enough to fill the stomach of their child.
Children deserve to be nourished and cared for. They deserve to prosper and have what is needed at their fingertips to grow. Anything below what you are most capable of is a disappointment, however being short of the basic necessities is abuse. This is why I would never have a child, I am not ready nor am I sure that I could truly care. If I could not care, but fake it would that be equally meaningful as a father who truly loves their child? Is it a father a child needs? Or does a child just need a figure. Someone, anyone to emulate. For finding your own way, and your own emulation in the world is the scariest task one might undergo.
Take the child downstairs for example. It cries non-stop, yet the parents do nothing to satiate the child. Whaling on and on. I could never understand bearing your carbon copy, only to neglect them. Why copy yourself to begin with. Let the branch of life come to an end. Let it fizzle out of the universe alongside that great big ball of fire we call a sun. Let us fizzle out like the final firework in the night sky during a Fourth Of July display. Burning ever so slightly less until the stars of the galaxy swallow the light whole, leaving nothing left to be devoured.
- Nicholas Anderson
At 3 years old, I had my first encounter with this terrestrial alien. The spider that bit me injected me with enough poison to kill a small horse, so the doctor laid me down; She looked over, and with a big smile she said those famous words. “This won’t hurt a bit”. She put no numbing injections, she simply wiped the site clean, and began cutting. Sawing away at my tiny toddler stomach, slowly making their way through layers of fresh, soft, smooth skin. I remember nothing but warm tears streaming down my face as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Screaming at a rate I as a child had not even yet known. The screams of pain, they are unique. People can attempt to mimic them, but the true scream of torture and death is one so blood curddling that it makes your skin crawl. As a child you know only playful screams, this was my first introduction to what pain in the real world looked like. I just so happened to be it’s next patient.
I remember the pain, the cold feeling of blood pouring down my side, and screaming for my father. Yet, my father was the one to hold me down when I started kicking at the doctor from the pain. Rather than force them to stop cutting into a child without some type of anesthetic, he continued to hold my arms and legs as the doctor cut away. My greatest support system, to betray me in such a way. To take the trust of a child and crush it. After that session, I never trusted doctor’s again. I surely, never trusted a spider. That was until now.
That’s because even if the spider in my room were poisonous… It meant me no harm. Even if it did need to nest, and lay eggs it would not do so in my body. Even if it needed sustenance, it would not come in my direction. At least, that’s what it told me. That's what it told me as it's incisors pinched it's way into my arm once again, numbing the area unlike the doctor that went to work on me as a child. As I stare into it's eyes, I realized... I was scared. I was more than scared, for once... I was terrified. For my entire life, I was the one to induce fear in others. Now, that fear was being induced in me. So I am here. I am here to tell you. Until I am not. Let these words keep you from the spiders. Do not talk to them. Do not listen to them.
Do not be afraid. Even though deep down... fear consumes me.
2024.05.06 02:20 CrazyR0cky Need Feedback On Why My Story The Recluse Doesn't Fit The Theme Of NoSleep
Hey guys, I am posting here because I have gotten removed for "not being a personal scary experience". The only thing I could think is that the character does not always seem fearful, but there's a back and forth on it, and the fear is explained. Further, I can see that maybe the sections that are in diary format might be an issue. However, they are overall still in first person and add to the story as well as are important for a turn that occurs at the end of the story. Any help would be great!
" The Recluse In My Room Won't Stop Talking To Me"
Part One
The recluse in my room won't stop talking to me. I don't even know when it started. Once it did though, it became more and more frequent. At first I thought, maybe I was going crazy. However I had always been a bit on the mentally unwell side, to put it lightly. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in six grade. The psychiatrist said it was like I was put together wrong. The thing is he didn't just mean my internal organs, nor did he simply mean the thoughts in my head; but like something deep to the core of my very atoms was wrong. Was gross. War rotten. Was nasty. Then.. when I met Dr. Peterson is when he told me I have something against people. He told me that I seemed to have disdain for those around me. That my pain was caused by me in many ways. He wasn't wrong of course, but he could never figure out why exactly I ended up this way, and of course I could never tell him. When you tell doctors the truth, they try to hurt you. The try to send you away to that place. To the dark side of the earth. I will NOT go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there AGAIN.
So, I lied. I Said I didn't know what he meant, and that I just like to keep to myself. He wasn't wrong of course. I did have a disdain for the humanly figure. Disdain for the small minded ants that wandered the broken halls of past men many times their equal. They stand in the disrepair, and wallow in it. Not me. I could never. I am not, them. I will never be them. I will however be leaving soon. So, I needed to get this out. You might not be able to tell, but I am terrified. I am terrified of him. I am terrified of it. I am terrified of me. However, I am most terrified of the spider. No matter what it says to me. The brown recluse that follows me into my dreams, it tells me to not fear it. It tells me to not fear it while it plunges it's incisors down into my forearm, and pushes the venomous liquid out of it's body into mine. Sucking away the little life I have, while plunging in new disease on top of disease. In order to understand my fear, to understand my pain, to understand the bottomless stairs to the lair of hell which innocent souls go. Then let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back.
I was thirteen when I was diagnosed with an auto immune disorder, I wasn't surprised, even back then. Sickness, disease, and torture seemed to follow members of my family wherever they went. Take my grandmother for example. She had led a very good life. A modest, God fearing life. Ya know where that got her? Laying six feet deep, after a years long struggle from oral cancer. The woman never chewed tobacco in her life, never so much as laid a finger on any drug, and never did anything bad to anyone in her entire life. Yet, she still moved onward to the dark abyss that we call death. Now I'm alone. I'm alone, and that spider knew it. It knew when I was watching it. It knew when I was thinking about it even. It knew. It always knew. It knew that the one person I had left, was gone.
My grandmother was my favorite person. She helped me when I needed it most. She came to me when I was down. She came to me when I was blue. She came to me, when the spider wouldn't leave and wanted you. Now she sits down, down down down. Down in the murky waters of soot and sand. I will go down there one day too. Honestly, I hope I go down further. I would rather burn in hell for the reset of eternity than allow my consciousness to go straight into an endless abyss of darkness and loneliness coagulating into the oozing mud that is the pitch black. It isn't my choice though now is it. See my grandmother always terrified me. This is one of the reasons that I love what scares me. I love the excitement. I love the thrill, but I also loved her. My grandmother was a child of four. She was a beautiful girl, but her mother hated her for it. As the eldest, her mother would always tell her that she had a face only a mother could love. That no man should ever want her.
When she entered high school though, that wasn't quite true. When she finally found a man that she cared for, her mother enraged with jealousy of her beauty, youth, and freedom decided to rob her of it. She decided that if she should suffer, so should her daughter. So, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a pot. She seared it on the low burning flame, and added oil until it popped. Then when my grandmother came home, she splashed a pot of boiling oil on the side of her face. It caused the skin of half of her face to melt, and droop downward like melting wax. Only for the oil to leave her face and the skin that melted downward hardened in various spots. Creating this crater effect on half of my grandmother's face. My great grandmother finally made her wish and statements come true, my grandmother had a face only a mother could love. That was until I came along. I see my grandmother for what she is. A beautiful woman, with the soul of an angel and the face of a loving goddess. As I said before, tragedy and despair follow my family like vultures. Waiting for dead corpses to pile up so that they might chew away at the last remaining fabric of their skin.
Most people think of me as an outcast. I never cared. I always thought that the best thing I could be, is alone. I was always sick everyone said. No one knew quite how sick I was, or what type of illness I bear. People told me I had my weaknesses, like my immune system. My immune system has always been somewhat confused, it seems to think that I am the foreign body. That mere consumption provide enough reason, to rid the body of itself. This caused me much pain, mentally and physically. However, no one told me I also had my strengths. I had to find that out for myself. See when no one bothered me, my brain could be set free. I could see anything I wished. Feel anything I wanted to. It all started when I was very young. I used to sit in my room for hours and talk to my friends, some of them more real than others. I had a friend named Koby. He was my most real friend.
I met Koby at elementary school, a private school where everyone except me was laced with hundred dollar bills. Koby’s family was also wealthy, but he was different from other people too. He didn’t understand when people made fun of him, why people made fun of him. He was naïve. Me on the other hand, I watched everyone. Judged everyone, just like they judged me. I got a cheaper entry in to my school due to my grandmother working at the school office. After summer ended people would come into class and the teacher would inevitably ask “What did you do this summer class?”. Everyone else either went to Greece, Italy, Rome, Japan, or some other foreign country. They were different than me, and they made sure I knew it. Not Koby though. Koby never asked me about my money, and we liked some of the same things. People would tease us and call us gay, because we liked “girly shows on the Disney channel”. We both came from a perspective of liking what we like unapologetically, at first.
We did indeed have a close and personal friendship, the kind young boys who care not about societal boundaries have. We would throw each other over one another’s heads in his pool mimicking wrestling moves. Imitating Randy Orten, and Brock Lesnar as if we were lumbering monsters of flesh and bones. Sometimes we would get hurt, bang our head in to the wrong object, or hit something too hard; only to console each other as to not cry and get in trouble. We also would make short films that ranged from comedy to action, and we replicated the bad language we saw online. We loved choreographing fake sword fights, and I always loved living as a swordsman in my head. Imagining chopping apart opponents, limb by limb as I dismantle their world and build my own. I also always wanted to act. I thought I was quite good at keeping on masks. Never relenting on an unending character, the likes of which only I know are fake. Koby and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot though. He was a huge fan of childish games, while I liked things to be a bit more advanced and difficult. He thought random curse words were funny, while I felt my taste a little more sophisticated. Did I feel superior to him? In some ways yes. It didn’t matter though, what mattered is they didn’t like him almost as much as they hated me. That helped us bond.
Then one day something changed. Koby changed, he became one of them. Koby began to play into their jokes. Tried to be what they wanted him to be, a clown. The bullying got worse, and worse. It started with calling us gay, use the f slur towards us, and other homophobic slurs. It then turned in to physical violence. People slapping us, using us as punching bags. I was a big kid. I think they enjoyed the idea of having power over someone larger than them.
One day during basketball, we were playing knock out. During Koby’s turn, one of the kids James went up to him and punched him directly in the eye. He did this due to being “knocked out” moments prior in the game by Koby. Having had enough, I immediately threw my basketball at the kids head, and moved to begin smashing his skull with my bare knuckles. Gnarling, and utilizing years of frustration I lunged at James. Rather than joining me in fighting him, Koby stopped me. He stood between me and James. He apologized to James profusely begging for his forgiveness, and scolded me. Told me how evil I was for simply fighting back. I had never felt more embarassed. More betrayed. The person I called a friend, would stop me from protecting him, and make me look like a weak fool in front of everyone. He cared more about his image to them, the people who didn’t like him to begin with than the will and anger his own “friend”. I would never stoop so low as to let the people who berated me, who hurt me choose who I become or what actions I take. That’s when I realized my “real” friend, wasn’t so real at all. I gladly accepted that I would never protect another being again.
After he stopped me, he became close with the people we once loathed. He would go on to spend time with them, join their clubs, go to their birthday’s. He was no longer the Koby I was once tolerated, and was now something very different. I hated him, at first. That was until he became comfortable enough with them, so comfortable he told them my deepest darkest secrets. The boys that had been scolding us, making us feel like nothing for years, he told them of my abuse. He told them of my desires, and of my fears. He told them who I enjoyed spending time with, what kinds of media I enjoyed, and what goals I had. He told them. That is what matters, and that is unforgivable. When I told him that what I thought about him, when I let him know how small of an ant he truly was to me, that’s when the voices around me became more than real. In a way they were the truth. They never lied to me. They always told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear. They never judged me when I was wrong. So, when I was by myself… I was never truly alone. Some of them have names, others are a faint whisper. An echo of the wills of the past. A presence, that is not quite understood.
See I grew up in a trailer park. That is why the rich kids would never like me. I wore the same tattered uniform to school every day. Never having enough change to purchase a hot lunch, always begging the school for free food just to eat for that day. I never really thought much of my family’s money, or lack thereof. I somewhat liked living at the trailer park. I had acquaintances of all backgrounds, ethnicities, nationalities, languages you name it. However, people knew of me, but no one knew me. I would put on a front, and call myself by different names just to toy with people. Sometimes I would do different accents, to see how long it would take for someone to realize how fake it was. I always liked playing tricks on people, it’s one thing that often alienated me more than anything else. I didn’t care. I saw it as more of an art than anything. Plus never letting anyone in on the joke, made it all the more special. Only I could control what others knew of me. I was the bottle neck for that pipeline of information.
One trick I used to play on my neighbor Darren was exceedingly hilarious, but he didn’t like it much at all. He had a cat, it was a black and white cat named Moo that loved all the kids in the neighborhood. Except me. It would always scratch at me when it saw me, hiss like I was some monster. One thing that no one liked however, is that this cat meowed as loud as a Bostonian woman in the middle of an orgasm. Every single night, throughout the neighborhood it would whale on. It kept me up at night as a child, and made my dog anxious too. I always prayed that cat would get hit by a car, or smashed by a falling anvil. One day my wish must have come true. One day, the cat stopped meowing. Some say the cat got skittish, ran off, and got lost. I think differently. I think someone killed that cat. Someone took matters into their own hands, and good for them. When there is an annoyance, I say end it. People always get so sentimental over things like death. I find death to be peaceful, inviting. Warm.
However, even with Moo gone Darren and I still didn’t get along. He hated my dog, and blamed me for his cat going missing. So, one night I found an old recording on my phone. It was the cat meowing in the backyard. So I took my speaker over to Darren’s house, and played it at just the right volume to make it sound like the cat was at his gate. He got up moments later, and ran downstairs, searching for his cat. The way his face shimmered with mere glimpses of hope, and happiness only to give way to utter defeat and despair really put a smile on my face. The deep smile he had, turning in to a frightful scowl made my night perfect. His misery for some reason provided me with a level of comfort, knowing I could control someone’s emotions with such ease. It felt right. It felt like a power, that I deserved. Darren later that week would tell all the neighbors, and the neighbors started keeping an eye out too. The cat was never found, so they say. I think differently.
These days I don’t play many tricks on people at all. These days I’ve lost my power. I stay inside, away from those who can harm me. Free from everything of the societal world. Free to roam the mind that I so desperately aimed to understand in it’s entirety. Voices, that need to be satiated with conversations only I can have with myself. This is the only way to truly escape. The only way to be truly, and utterly free.
Day 3
I sit here on my couch. Staring at a blank screen ahead of me. Thinking not of the future, but of the past. I look fondly on my childhood memories. Moments with my parents where we would go on glorious adventures, filled with frights and delights all the same. One I recall is going to Bodega Bay with my father. We were roaming through beach caves, as the tide began to rise. I was with another child I met on the playground, and at a moments notice we were nearly trapped in the cave unable to get out. Luckily the other child’s father was able to get in the cave, and get us out. I hate to think what might have happened, had that man not been there on that day.
I think fondly of my school memories. While I had some friends, I mostly stuck to my studies. I was able to move forward, and at least pass my classes with relative ease. I always procrastinated, which gave me a lot of anxiety. I continued to do so anyway. By the time I reached high school I was able to graduate at 16. This made me ecstatic, because I no longer had to attend the high school that bored me so deeply. I was then able to take online classes for school, limiting my contact with others. Most see this as negative, I loved it dearly. I always felt I excelled when I worked on my own, rather than in teams. They always slowed me down anyway.
Today I sit quietly, in silence. Except for the sound of a child. The neighbor downstairs keeps a little brat that begs for attention all day long. Sometimes that baby reminds me of my neighbors cat when I was a child. It’s a long story, maybe we’ll get to it some other time.
Considering this to be the case, I was also still what you might consider to be anti-social. I did not like people, and most people did not like me. Once I learned how much I loved spending time with myself, this seemingly just got worse. Once I entered high school I realized how different I still was. No one here was significantly richer than anyone else, but I still felt a barrier separating me from them. I did find a small group of misfits however, to waste my time with at lunch. Even then I often still sat silently, while everyone else clambered on.
Even in this group, I still felt utterly alone. What I did enjoy however, was that my mere presence to them was somewhat of a trick. I did not care for these people. Yet they seemed to believe that simply because I was there, that I somehow cared about them. They also seemed to enjoy the embodiment of mystery I took on. I would rarely provide any information about myself, and when I did I would still commonly lie. Lie about who I had been with, what I had done, what I accomplished, what I had faith in. They believed it, for a time.
It all started to come apart, when Jada came around. Jada always seemed to take an interest in me. I didn’t really understand why. I never paid her any attention, and when I did it was always quick, simple, and to the point. Maybe my lack of interest in her, is what caused her interest in me. Either way, it wasn’t a good decision for her. I never have cared much for how my actions effected others. Nor have I ever really considered what would happen, if my lies were to be discovered. It just doesn’t matter to me, and typically I don’t stay around others long enough to be figured out anyway. Jada however, stuck to me like glue.
Anywhere I would go she would follow, with sad puppy dog eyes. Begging for attention. To be honest on some level I thought it was quite adorable, but also relished in the idea that I might be able to exert some sort of romantic power over someone. She was going to provide that to me. So, I fed in to her ways. I told her what she wanted to hear. I told her that she made me feel ways no one else ever had, which was completely fabricated. Pulled from thin air. I did not love this girl. I loved what she could do for me. I loved how I could make myself feel with her, and now that I had a taste of it I loved that power. That was, until she started to push back.
For a while I thought I was untouchable, I thought no one could break the spell I had on Jada. Any time I would ask her to be somewhere, she would be in an instant. It did not matter the time or the place. I could tell her any lie, ask her to complete any task and she would believe it or complete it. I had her fully in the palm of my hand with a firm grasp, until others in our little group started to get in to her head. They started to realize that some of my stories, didn’t quite add up. They saw how Jada spent her time with me. How she was at my every beck and call. That she would give up anything for me, yet I would give up nothing for her. They were jealous. They wanted to have that control over somebody, but they never could. They were never smart enough, never talented enough to do so. They told her that I was no good for her, that I was using her.
Make no mistake, I was using her. Isn’t that what love is? One using another person, to find some bliss. Some happiness which they can’t find elsewhere? Why am I wrong for doing the same. She provided me pleasure, I provided her with some in return. Sounds like a fair transaction to me. Besides, who are they however to interfere with my life. With my people. With my toys. When she finally told me she never wanted to see me again, I knew she was lying. She wanted me more than ever. Wanted to fix me. Wanted to make me hers, but she would only ever be mine to toy with. I was unfixable, because I wasn’t broken. It was everyone else that needed fixing, I was simply playing the game. Not long after Jada said that to me, I was excised from our group.
They thought of me as a dirty liar, who they couldn’t trust. It’s not my fault I played with those who are easily fooled, preyed on what made them weak. I was simply showing them what they were doing wrong. What they could do better. I knew from then on that the only person who understood me was the people I spoke to when I as alone. They knew me better than I knew myself. They knew what I wanted, what I could do. They had faith in me. That’s when I knew I needed to keep myself low. Put away. Kept neatly in a box, so that way I could ascertain my full potential. Once again I realized, only then could I be free. People, even as my toys were more detrimental to me than anything else. I loved being alone, but more importantly I thrived in it.
Once I started staying away, keeping to myself. I realized love was not what I had been told. Love was not for others, but for the feeling one can attain from the power it provides. With other humans that power is fleeting, but with one’s self it remains until your eminent death. With only myself in my home is when I found my first true love aside from loneliness. Cutting. Utilizing a blade to make the marks on my skin which I now define as art. A knife’s place is meant to be against the skin of a being. It fits so fluidly down the fold of one’s figure, like a figure skater dancing around an icy path with the blades on their feet. Leaving behind trails of love, despair, pain, and joy.
I swear it was an accident at first. I was in the kitchen one day, angry that I couldn’t understand myself. Why I felt the way I felt about life. Angry that I felt abandoned, without a mentor to assist me in both my strengths and my weaknesses. That’s when I instinctively took a knife angled it directly downward with both hands grasping it, and I slammed it straight down in to a cutting board. Little did I know that my hand would slide on to the knife as the impact was made with the board. My white tendons on the left side of my inner right palm, sliced open. Bleeding profusely.
My anger swelled in that moment, and manifested in immense pain that synergized and gave me something I had never quite felt like that before. Euphoria. Pure, and utter bliss. In that moment I felt aroused, excited, ready for something to happen. Nothing did. As my feelings of euphoria began to fade away, I was left with the slide in my hand from the blade. Blood dripping all over the cutting board, and the counter beside it. Crimson red splattered behind the board, leaving a bloody mess to clean up. I quickly applied pressure, and got a bandaid from the bathroom sink. Applied it, and sopped up the red stained tile with paper towels. As I did so it occurred to me, that feeling can be replicated again. All I needed was a knife, and a will to achieve nirvana. With blood spilt, it would be far easier the next time.
Day 5
Today I find myself on the floor of the kitchen. Staring at the ceiling, thinking of past relationships. The wrongs, the rights. What I did, what I didn’t do. What could have been, and what never will be. These things I find fascinating as a self-exploration exercise. What could I have done wrong to the woman that I once said I loved, so much so that she deems it necessary not to speak to me again. Did I do anything wrong to begin with? Is it true that she will never speak to me again? I find it doubtful, although I do not put myself in high regard on this situation either. I called her my baby doll, because that is what she is for me. I just want her back. Sometimes. However, I want her back for me. She wants me back for her. Maybe we can meet in the middle.
I think of my parents and what they didn’t do for me as a child. They weren’t model citizens, but they also weren’t terrible parents. They just didn’t know how to raise a child, and honestly who the hell does? I fault them not for what they did, but for allowing themselves to have a child in the first place when they were not ready. Bringing a child in to a world you are not prepared for let alone them, is downright despicable. A selfish and vile act of pure arrogance of nature. The arrogance of two to think love is enough to fill the stomach of their child.
Children deserve to be nourished and cared for. They deserve to prosper and have what is needed at their fingertips to grow. Anything below what you are most capable of is a disappointment, however being short of the basic necessities is abuse. This is why I would never have a child, I am not ready nor am I sure that I could truly care. If I could not care, but fake it would that be equally meaningful as a father who truly loves their child? Is it a father a child needs? Or does a child just need a figure. Someone, anyone to emulate. For finding your own way, and your own emulation in the world is the scariest task one might undergo.
Take the child downstairs for example. It cries non-stop, yet the parents do nothing to satiate the child. Whaling on and on. I could never understand bearing your carbon copy, only to neglect them. Why copy yourself to begin with. Let the branch of life come to an end. Let it fizzle out of the universe alongside that great big ball of fire we call a sun. Let us fizzle out like the final firework in the night sky during a Fourth Of July display. Burning ever so slightly less until the stars of the galaxy swallow the light whole, leaving nothing left to be devoured.
At 3 years old, I had my first encounter with this terrestrial alien. The spider that bit me injected me with enough poison to kill a small horse, so the doctor laid me down; She looked over, and with a big smile she said those famous words. “This won’t hurt a bit”. She put no numbing injections, she simply wiped the site clean, and began cutting. Sawing away at my tiny toddler stomach, slowly making their way through layers of fresh, soft, smooth skin. I remember nothing but warm tears streaming down my face as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Screaming at a rate I as a child had not even yet known. The screams of pain, they are unique. People can attempt to mimic them, but the true scream of torture and death is one so blood curddling that it makes your skin crawl. As a child you know only playful screams, this was my first introduction to what pain in the real world looked like. I just so happened to be it’s next patient.
I remember the pain, the cold feeling of blood pouring down my side, and screaming for my father. Yet, my father was the one to hold me down when I started kicking at the doctor from the pain. Rather than force them to stop cutting into a child without some type of anesthetic, he continued to hold my arms and legs as the doctor cut away. My greatest support system, to betray me in such a way. To take the trust of a child and crush it. After that session, I never trusted doctor’s again. I surely, never trusted a spider. That was until now.
That’s because even if the spider in my room were poisonous… It meant me no harm. Even if it did need to nest, and lay eggs it would not do so in my body. Even if it needed sustenance, it would not come in my direction. At least, that’s what it told me. That's what it told me as it's incisors pinched it's way into my arm once again, numbing the area unlike the doctor that went to work on me as a child. As I stare into it's eyes, I realized... I was scared. I was more than scared, for once... I was terrified. For my entire life, I was the one to induce fear in others. Now, that fear was being induced in me. So I am here. I am here to tell you. Until I am not. Let these words keep you from the spiders. Do not talk to them. Do not listen to them.
Do not be afraid. Even though deep down... fear consumes me."
submitted by CrazyR0cky to NoSleepAuthors [link] [comments]
" The Recluse In My Room Won't Stop Talking To Me"
Part One
The recluse in my room won't stop talking to me. I don't even know when it started. Once it did though, it became more and more frequent. At first I thought, maybe I was going crazy. However I had always been a bit on the mentally unwell side, to put it lightly. I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression in six grade. The psychiatrist said it was like I was put together wrong. The thing is he didn't just mean my internal organs, nor did he simply mean the thoughts in my head; but like something deep to the core of my very atoms was wrong. Was gross. War rotten. Was nasty. Then.. when I met Dr. Peterson is when he told me I have something against people. He told me that I seemed to have disdain for those around me. That my pain was caused by me in many ways. He wasn't wrong of course, but he could never figure out why exactly I ended up this way, and of course I could never tell him. When you tell doctors the truth, they try to hurt you. The try to send you away to that place. To the dark side of the earth. I will NOT go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there again. I will not go there AGAIN.
So, I lied. I Said I didn't know what he meant, and that I just like to keep to myself. He wasn't wrong of course. I did have a disdain for the humanly figure. Disdain for the small minded ants that wandered the broken halls of past men many times their equal. They stand in the disrepair, and wallow in it. Not me. I could never. I am not, them. I will never be them. I will however be leaving soon. So, I needed to get this out. You might not be able to tell, but I am terrified. I am terrified of him. I am terrified of it. I am terrified of me. However, I am most terrified of the spider. No matter what it says to me. The brown recluse that follows me into my dreams, it tells me to not fear it. It tells me to not fear it while it plunges it's incisors down into my forearm, and pushes the venomous liquid out of it's body into mine. Sucking away the little life I have, while plunging in new disease on top of disease. In order to understand my fear, to understand my pain, to understand the bottomless stairs to the lair of hell which innocent souls go. Then let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back. Let me go back.
I was thirteen when I was diagnosed with an auto immune disorder, I wasn't surprised, even back then. Sickness, disease, and torture seemed to follow members of my family wherever they went. Take my grandmother for example. She had led a very good life. A modest, God fearing life. Ya know where that got her? Laying six feet deep, after a years long struggle from oral cancer. The woman never chewed tobacco in her life, never so much as laid a finger on any drug, and never did anything bad to anyone in her entire life. Yet, she still moved onward to the dark abyss that we call death. Now I'm alone. I'm alone, and that spider knew it. It knew when I was watching it. It knew when I was thinking about it even. It knew. It always knew. It knew that the one person I had left, was gone.
My grandmother was my favorite person. She helped me when I needed it most. She came to me when I was down. She came to me when I was blue. She came to me, when the spider wouldn't leave and wanted you. Now she sits down, down down down. Down in the murky waters of soot and sand. I will go down there one day too. Honestly, I hope I go down further. I would rather burn in hell for the reset of eternity than allow my consciousness to go straight into an endless abyss of darkness and loneliness coagulating into the oozing mud that is the pitch black. It isn't my choice though now is it. See my grandmother always terrified me. This is one of the reasons that I love what scares me. I love the excitement. I love the thrill, but I also loved her. My grandmother was a child of four. She was a beautiful girl, but her mother hated her for it. As the eldest, her mother would always tell her that she had a face only a mother could love. That no man should ever want her.
When she entered high school though, that wasn't quite true. When she finally found a man that she cared for, her mother enraged with jealousy of her beauty, youth, and freedom decided to rob her of it. She decided that if she should suffer, so should her daughter. So, she went into the kitchen and grabbed a pot. She seared it on the low burning flame, and added oil until it popped. Then when my grandmother came home, she splashed a pot of boiling oil on the side of her face. It caused the skin of half of her face to melt, and droop downward like melting wax. Only for the oil to leave her face and the skin that melted downward hardened in various spots. Creating this crater effect on half of my grandmother's face. My great grandmother finally made her wish and statements come true, my grandmother had a face only a mother could love. That was until I came along. I see my grandmother for what she is. A beautiful woman, with the soul of an angel and the face of a loving goddess. As I said before, tragedy and despair follow my family like vultures. Waiting for dead corpses to pile up so that they might chew away at the last remaining fabric of their skin.
Most people think of me as an outcast. I never cared. I always thought that the best thing I could be, is alone. I was always sick everyone said. No one knew quite how sick I was, or what type of illness I bear. People told me I had my weaknesses, like my immune system. My immune system has always been somewhat confused, it seems to think that I am the foreign body. That mere consumption provide enough reason, to rid the body of itself. This caused me much pain, mentally and physically. However, no one told me I also had my strengths. I had to find that out for myself. See when no one bothered me, my brain could be set free. I could see anything I wished. Feel anything I wanted to. It all started when I was very young. I used to sit in my room for hours and talk to my friends, some of them more real than others. I had a friend named Koby. He was my most real friend.
I met Koby at elementary school, a private school where everyone except me was laced with hundred dollar bills. Koby’s family was also wealthy, but he was different from other people too. He didn’t understand when people made fun of him, why people made fun of him. He was naïve. Me on the other hand, I watched everyone. Judged everyone, just like they judged me. I got a cheaper entry in to my school due to my grandmother working at the school office. After summer ended people would come into class and the teacher would inevitably ask “What did you do this summer class?”. Everyone else either went to Greece, Italy, Rome, Japan, or some other foreign country. They were different than me, and they made sure I knew it. Not Koby though. Koby never asked me about my money, and we liked some of the same things. People would tease us and call us gay, because we liked “girly shows on the Disney channel”. We both came from a perspective of liking what we like unapologetically, at first.
We did indeed have a close and personal friendship, the kind young boys who care not about societal boundaries have. We would throw each other over one another’s heads in his pool mimicking wrestling moves. Imitating Randy Orten, and Brock Lesnar as if we were lumbering monsters of flesh and bones. Sometimes we would get hurt, bang our head in to the wrong object, or hit something too hard; only to console each other as to not cry and get in trouble. We also would make short films that ranged from comedy to action, and we replicated the bad language we saw online. We loved choreographing fake sword fights, and I always loved living as a swordsman in my head. Imagining chopping apart opponents, limb by limb as I dismantle their world and build my own. I also always wanted to act. I thought I was quite good at keeping on masks. Never relenting on an unending character, the likes of which only I know are fake. Koby and I didn’t see eye to eye on a lot though. He was a huge fan of childish games, while I liked things to be a bit more advanced and difficult. He thought random curse words were funny, while I felt my taste a little more sophisticated. Did I feel superior to him? In some ways yes. It didn’t matter though, what mattered is they didn’t like him almost as much as they hated me. That helped us bond.
Then one day something changed. Koby changed, he became one of them. Koby began to play into their jokes. Tried to be what they wanted him to be, a clown. The bullying got worse, and worse. It started with calling us gay, use the f slur towards us, and other homophobic slurs. It then turned in to physical violence. People slapping us, using us as punching bags. I was a big kid. I think they enjoyed the idea of having power over someone larger than them.
One day during basketball, we were playing knock out. During Koby’s turn, one of the kids James went up to him and punched him directly in the eye. He did this due to being “knocked out” moments prior in the game by Koby. Having had enough, I immediately threw my basketball at the kids head, and moved to begin smashing his skull with my bare knuckles. Gnarling, and utilizing years of frustration I lunged at James. Rather than joining me in fighting him, Koby stopped me. He stood between me and James. He apologized to James profusely begging for his forgiveness, and scolded me. Told me how evil I was for simply fighting back. I had never felt more embarassed. More betrayed. The person I called a friend, would stop me from protecting him, and make me look like a weak fool in front of everyone. He cared more about his image to them, the people who didn’t like him to begin with than the will and anger his own “friend”. I would never stoop so low as to let the people who berated me, who hurt me choose who I become or what actions I take. That’s when I realized my “real” friend, wasn’t so real at all. I gladly accepted that I would never protect another being again.
After he stopped me, he became close with the people we once loathed. He would go on to spend time with them, join their clubs, go to their birthday’s. He was no longer the Koby I was once tolerated, and was now something very different. I hated him, at first. That was until he became comfortable enough with them, so comfortable he told them my deepest darkest secrets. The boys that had been scolding us, making us feel like nothing for years, he told them of my abuse. He told them of my desires, and of my fears. He told them who I enjoyed spending time with, what kinds of media I enjoyed, and what goals I had. He told them. That is what matters, and that is unforgivable. When I told him that what I thought about him, when I let him know how small of an ant he truly was to me, that’s when the voices around me became more than real. In a way they were the truth. They never lied to me. They always told me what I needed to hear, not what I wanted to hear. They never judged me when I was wrong. So, when I was by myself… I was never truly alone. Some of them have names, others are a faint whisper. An echo of the wills of the past. A presence, that is not quite understood.
See I grew up in a trailer park. That is why the rich kids would never like me. I wore the same tattered uniform to school every day. Never having enough change to purchase a hot lunch, always begging the school for free food just to eat for that day. I never really thought much of my family’s money, or lack thereof. I somewhat liked living at the trailer park. I had acquaintances of all backgrounds, ethnicities, nationalities, languages you name it. However, people knew of me, but no one knew me. I would put on a front, and call myself by different names just to toy with people. Sometimes I would do different accents, to see how long it would take for someone to realize how fake it was. I always liked playing tricks on people, it’s one thing that often alienated me more than anything else. I didn’t care. I saw it as more of an art than anything. Plus never letting anyone in on the joke, made it all the more special. Only I could control what others knew of me. I was the bottle neck for that pipeline of information.
One trick I used to play on my neighbor Darren was exceedingly hilarious, but he didn’t like it much at all. He had a cat, it was a black and white cat named Moo that loved all the kids in the neighborhood. Except me. It would always scratch at me when it saw me, hiss like I was some monster. One thing that no one liked however, is that this cat meowed as loud as a Bostonian woman in the middle of an orgasm. Every single night, throughout the neighborhood it would whale on. It kept me up at night as a child, and made my dog anxious too. I always prayed that cat would get hit by a car, or smashed by a falling anvil. One day my wish must have come true. One day, the cat stopped meowing. Some say the cat got skittish, ran off, and got lost. I think differently. I think someone killed that cat. Someone took matters into their own hands, and good for them. When there is an annoyance, I say end it. People always get so sentimental over things like death. I find death to be peaceful, inviting. Warm.
However, even with Moo gone Darren and I still didn’t get along. He hated my dog, and blamed me for his cat going missing. So, one night I found an old recording on my phone. It was the cat meowing in the backyard. So I took my speaker over to Darren’s house, and played it at just the right volume to make it sound like the cat was at his gate. He got up moments later, and ran downstairs, searching for his cat. The way his face shimmered with mere glimpses of hope, and happiness only to give way to utter defeat and despair really put a smile on my face. The deep smile he had, turning in to a frightful scowl made my night perfect. His misery for some reason provided me with a level of comfort, knowing I could control someone’s emotions with such ease. It felt right. It felt like a power, that I deserved. Darren later that week would tell all the neighbors, and the neighbors started keeping an eye out too. The cat was never found, so they say. I think differently.
These days I don’t play many tricks on people at all. These days I’ve lost my power. I stay inside, away from those who can harm me. Free from everything of the societal world. Free to roam the mind that I so desperately aimed to understand in it’s entirety. Voices, that need to be satiated with conversations only I can have with myself. This is the only way to truly escape. The only way to be truly, and utterly free.
Day 3
I sit here on my couch. Staring at a blank screen ahead of me. Thinking not of the future, but of the past. I look fondly on my childhood memories. Moments with my parents where we would go on glorious adventures, filled with frights and delights all the same. One I recall is going to Bodega Bay with my father. We were roaming through beach caves, as the tide began to rise. I was with another child I met on the playground, and at a moments notice we were nearly trapped in the cave unable to get out. Luckily the other child’s father was able to get in the cave, and get us out. I hate to think what might have happened, had that man not been there on that day.
I think fondly of my school memories. While I had some friends, I mostly stuck to my studies. I was able to move forward, and at least pass my classes with relative ease. I always procrastinated, which gave me a lot of anxiety. I continued to do so anyway. By the time I reached high school I was able to graduate at 16. This made me ecstatic, because I no longer had to attend the high school that bored me so deeply. I was then able to take online classes for school, limiting my contact with others. Most see this as negative, I loved it dearly. I always felt I excelled when I worked on my own, rather than in teams. They always slowed me down anyway.
Today I sit quietly, in silence. Except for the sound of a child. The neighbor downstairs keeps a little brat that begs for attention all day long. Sometimes that baby reminds me of my neighbors cat when I was a child. It’s a long story, maybe we’ll get to it some other time.
- Nicholas Anderson
Considering this to be the case, I was also still what you might consider to be anti-social. I did not like people, and most people did not like me. Once I learned how much I loved spending time with myself, this seemingly just got worse. Once I entered high school I realized how different I still was. No one here was significantly richer than anyone else, but I still felt a barrier separating me from them. I did find a small group of misfits however, to waste my time with at lunch. Even then I often still sat silently, while everyone else clambered on.
Even in this group, I still felt utterly alone. What I did enjoy however, was that my mere presence to them was somewhat of a trick. I did not care for these people. Yet they seemed to believe that simply because I was there, that I somehow cared about them. They also seemed to enjoy the embodiment of mystery I took on. I would rarely provide any information about myself, and when I did I would still commonly lie. Lie about who I had been with, what I had done, what I accomplished, what I had faith in. They believed it, for a time.
It all started to come apart, when Jada came around. Jada always seemed to take an interest in me. I didn’t really understand why. I never paid her any attention, and when I did it was always quick, simple, and to the point. Maybe my lack of interest in her, is what caused her interest in me. Either way, it wasn’t a good decision for her. I never have cared much for how my actions effected others. Nor have I ever really considered what would happen, if my lies were to be discovered. It just doesn’t matter to me, and typically I don’t stay around others long enough to be figured out anyway. Jada however, stuck to me like glue.
Anywhere I would go she would follow, with sad puppy dog eyes. Begging for attention. To be honest on some level I thought it was quite adorable, but also relished in the idea that I might be able to exert some sort of romantic power over someone. She was going to provide that to me. So, I fed in to her ways. I told her what she wanted to hear. I told her that she made me feel ways no one else ever had, which was completely fabricated. Pulled from thin air. I did not love this girl. I loved what she could do for me. I loved how I could make myself feel with her, and now that I had a taste of it I loved that power. That was, until she started to push back.
For a while I thought I was untouchable, I thought no one could break the spell I had on Jada. Any time I would ask her to be somewhere, she would be in an instant. It did not matter the time or the place. I could tell her any lie, ask her to complete any task and she would believe it or complete it. I had her fully in the palm of my hand with a firm grasp, until others in our little group started to get in to her head. They started to realize that some of my stories, didn’t quite add up. They saw how Jada spent her time with me. How she was at my every beck and call. That she would give up anything for me, yet I would give up nothing for her. They were jealous. They wanted to have that control over somebody, but they never could. They were never smart enough, never talented enough to do so. They told her that I was no good for her, that I was using her.
Make no mistake, I was using her. Isn’t that what love is? One using another person, to find some bliss. Some happiness which they can’t find elsewhere? Why am I wrong for doing the same. She provided me pleasure, I provided her with some in return. Sounds like a fair transaction to me. Besides, who are they however to interfere with my life. With my people. With my toys. When she finally told me she never wanted to see me again, I knew she was lying. She wanted me more than ever. Wanted to fix me. Wanted to make me hers, but she would only ever be mine to toy with. I was unfixable, because I wasn’t broken. It was everyone else that needed fixing, I was simply playing the game. Not long after Jada said that to me, I was excised from our group.
They thought of me as a dirty liar, who they couldn’t trust. It’s not my fault I played with those who are easily fooled, preyed on what made them weak. I was simply showing them what they were doing wrong. What they could do better. I knew from then on that the only person who understood me was the people I spoke to when I as alone. They knew me better than I knew myself. They knew what I wanted, what I could do. They had faith in me. That’s when I knew I needed to keep myself low. Put away. Kept neatly in a box, so that way I could ascertain my full potential. Once again I realized, only then could I be free. People, even as my toys were more detrimental to me than anything else. I loved being alone, but more importantly I thrived in it.
Once I started staying away, keeping to myself. I realized love was not what I had been told. Love was not for others, but for the feeling one can attain from the power it provides. With other humans that power is fleeting, but with one’s self it remains until your eminent death. With only myself in my home is when I found my first true love aside from loneliness. Cutting. Utilizing a blade to make the marks on my skin which I now define as art. A knife’s place is meant to be against the skin of a being. It fits so fluidly down the fold of one’s figure, like a figure skater dancing around an icy path with the blades on their feet. Leaving behind trails of love, despair, pain, and joy.
I swear it was an accident at first. I was in the kitchen one day, angry that I couldn’t understand myself. Why I felt the way I felt about life. Angry that I felt abandoned, without a mentor to assist me in both my strengths and my weaknesses. That’s when I instinctively took a knife angled it directly downward with both hands grasping it, and I slammed it straight down in to a cutting board. Little did I know that my hand would slide on to the knife as the impact was made with the board. My white tendons on the left side of my inner right palm, sliced open. Bleeding profusely.
My anger swelled in that moment, and manifested in immense pain that synergized and gave me something I had never quite felt like that before. Euphoria. Pure, and utter bliss. In that moment I felt aroused, excited, ready for something to happen. Nothing did. As my feelings of euphoria began to fade away, I was left with the slide in my hand from the blade. Blood dripping all over the cutting board, and the counter beside it. Crimson red splattered behind the board, leaving a bloody mess to clean up. I quickly applied pressure, and got a bandaid from the bathroom sink. Applied it, and sopped up the red stained tile with paper towels. As I did so it occurred to me, that feeling can be replicated again. All I needed was a knife, and a will to achieve nirvana. With blood spilt, it would be far easier the next time.
Day 5
Today I find myself on the floor of the kitchen. Staring at the ceiling, thinking of past relationships. The wrongs, the rights. What I did, what I didn’t do. What could have been, and what never will be. These things I find fascinating as a self-exploration exercise. What could I have done wrong to the woman that I once said I loved, so much so that she deems it necessary not to speak to me again. Did I do anything wrong to begin with? Is it true that she will never speak to me again? I find it doubtful, although I do not put myself in high regard on this situation either. I called her my baby doll, because that is what she is for me. I just want her back. Sometimes. However, I want her back for me. She wants me back for her. Maybe we can meet in the middle.
I think of my parents and what they didn’t do for me as a child. They weren’t model citizens, but they also weren’t terrible parents. They just didn’t know how to raise a child, and honestly who the hell does? I fault them not for what they did, but for allowing themselves to have a child in the first place when they were not ready. Bringing a child in to a world you are not prepared for let alone them, is downright despicable. A selfish and vile act of pure arrogance of nature. The arrogance of two to think love is enough to fill the stomach of their child.
Children deserve to be nourished and cared for. They deserve to prosper and have what is needed at their fingertips to grow. Anything below what you are most capable of is a disappointment, however being short of the basic necessities is abuse. This is why I would never have a child, I am not ready nor am I sure that I could truly care. If I could not care, but fake it would that be equally meaningful as a father who truly loves their child? Is it a father a child needs? Or does a child just need a figure. Someone, anyone to emulate. For finding your own way, and your own emulation in the world is the scariest task one might undergo.
Take the child downstairs for example. It cries non-stop, yet the parents do nothing to satiate the child. Whaling on and on. I could never understand bearing your carbon copy, only to neglect them. Why copy yourself to begin with. Let the branch of life come to an end. Let it fizzle out of the universe alongside that great big ball of fire we call a sun. Let us fizzle out like the final firework in the night sky during a Fourth Of July display. Burning ever so slightly less until the stars of the galaxy swallow the light whole, leaving nothing left to be devoured.
- Nicholas Anderson
At 3 years old, I had my first encounter with this terrestrial alien. The spider that bit me injected me with enough poison to kill a small horse, so the doctor laid me down; She looked over, and with a big smile she said those famous words. “This won’t hurt a bit”. She put no numbing injections, she simply wiped the site clean, and began cutting. Sawing away at my tiny toddler stomach, slowly making their way through layers of fresh, soft, smooth skin. I remember nothing but warm tears streaming down my face as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Screaming at a rate I as a child had not even yet known. The screams of pain, they are unique. People can attempt to mimic them, but the true scream of torture and death is one so blood curddling that it makes your skin crawl. As a child you know only playful screams, this was my first introduction to what pain in the real world looked like. I just so happened to be it’s next patient.
I remember the pain, the cold feeling of blood pouring down my side, and screaming for my father. Yet, my father was the one to hold me down when I started kicking at the doctor from the pain. Rather than force them to stop cutting into a child without some type of anesthetic, he continued to hold my arms and legs as the doctor cut away. My greatest support system, to betray me in such a way. To take the trust of a child and crush it. After that session, I never trusted doctor’s again. I surely, never trusted a spider. That was until now.
That’s because even if the spider in my room were poisonous… It meant me no harm. Even if it did need to nest, and lay eggs it would not do so in my body. Even if it needed sustenance, it would not come in my direction. At least, that’s what it told me. That's what it told me as it's incisors pinched it's way into my arm once again, numbing the area unlike the doctor that went to work on me as a child. As I stare into it's eyes, I realized... I was scared. I was more than scared, for once... I was terrified. For my entire life, I was the one to induce fear in others. Now, that fear was being induced in me. So I am here. I am here to tell you. Until I am not. Let these words keep you from the spiders. Do not talk to them. Do not listen to them.
Do not be afraid. Even though deep down... fear consumes me."
2024.05.06 01:46 BiasMushroom Destination; Wriss (A NoP Fic Ch 65) Part 18
Nature of Humanity Ch 65
Destination; Wriss part 18
A Fanfic of u/SpacePaladin15’s work “The Nature of Predators.” Thank you for the story!
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Excerpt of Dr. Elva's Journal recovered from the wreck of the Dauntless Victory
Many people suffer from motion sickness on space-faring ships. Normally, this comes from the disjoint of the body’s means of understanding how its actually moving and the mind's perception of how it is moving, but with the invention of inertial dampeners, one would think standing in what feels like a stationary room with no windows wouldn't cause motion sickness.
Yet, that's precisely what's been happening to me. I've never felt this way before. Dr. Wiesera believes the sudden onset of motion sickness is caused by the stress of our current situation. I am given to believe her as I have noticed ticks in the rest of the crew. For example, Crevan has begun pacing in circles but seems confused when someone tries to get his attention. The only person who seems calm and unbothered is Barmlin, but given his disorder, I am confident in dismissing this abnormal behavior. To be truthful, I am a little glad to see the Arxur just as nervous as us.
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Memory transcription subject: Elva, Morvim Charter Soldier
Date [standardized human time]: November 3rd, 2136
Our ship was hovering listlessly in the void of space just past the small astrological body known as Pluto. My digits tightened around the trigger of my gun as the five of us kept our weapons trained on the door. Crevan was unable to stop Isif from inspecting the “gifts” Humanity was giving to the Arxur as “thanks” for their intervention.
Wiesera let out a sigh as she lowered her firearm and grabbed the pad displaying the security feed, “Alright… we are in the clear. Isif has just departed the ship.”
We let out a collective sigh. The first hurdle for getting to Wriss had just been cleared without so much as a scratch. We lowered our guns as Hrallak opened the door, “We are safe for now. Crevan doubts we will get boarded again. Isif is apparently a bit of an outlier among the Chief Hunters.”
Caulnek stood up and stretched, “Hey, it's not like we didn't expect to get boarded leaving here and upon entering Dominion space.”
Rivera rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Still couldn't we have done something better than just sit in a cattle pen with our guns pointed at the door?”
Hrallak thumped her tail no, “This is the Dominion we are speaking about. The great purge taught them everything about how stuff is hidden. I watched an Auditor enter a friend's house and in half a second open their hidden door. If they actually had anything stored in there, they would have all been executed via…”
As she trailed off, Wiesera changed the subject, “I never thought I'd willingly experience what it's like to lift off inside an Arxur ship. This is… unsettling.”
Hrallak wagged her tail, “It's sort of the opposite for me. For the first time in my life, I've come for the people in this room without that horrid knot in my guts. It feels like I'm free.”
It finally dawned on me as we grabbed our limited possessions and left the cattle pen behind for good, that every time she has come to this room before it’s been to drag some unfortunate soul to their death. Even if Crevan stated that she tried to be merciful, her paws were personally stained with a rainbow of blood that I doubt she would ever be able to wash out.
Yet, there was a slight spring in her step as she led the way to the galley with us in tow. Before she probably had to drag screaming victims to their fate, and now she is leading us to one of many meetings. I suppose in a sense, she is finally free. Whether this mission is successful or not, she will never butcher another sapient for as long as she lives.
My tail had the slightest wag to it as we entered the galley. The smell of disinfectant and bleach was strong enough to hit my blunt sense of smell but helped to wipe away any thought of the horrors that happened in this area. Lesh, Ishveil, and Ivan were waiting for us with cloths draped over their snouts.
For a moment, I thought they were trying to mimic what the humans do with their face coverings before they handed a cloth to both Hrallak and Wiesera. Wiesera took in a deep breath through the cloth, “Thank you, this smells a lot stronger than the hospital., Oh! This is a rather strange scent! I wouldn't think the Arxur would approve of scented laundry detergent!”
Ivan chuckled, “The dominion doesn't, but when I got a whiff of what the humans did to clean this ship, I nearly hurled. Thankfully, they had a handy solution ready. The smell should lighten up soon. And we also have more towels if you want them for any reason.”
Lesh thumped his tail against the ground, “Crevan and Mico are piloting the ship. You know the crew rotation. It should be quiet for the next few days… at least before we arrive.”
Ivan thumped his tail in agreement, “Normally, I'd suggest using downtime to train, but that is not exactly something we can do on this ship. So whatever you can do to keep ready for the attack without blowing the ship up or ruining our cover will be essential.”
Rivera stuck his paw in the air, “Does that include doing anything to distract us from the fact we are on a cattle ship?”
Lesh's eyes opened wide, almost as if he hadn’t considered what being on board would be like for us. He thumped his tail, “Y-yeah. It wouldn't do to have you freaking out… but it would be better for you to come to terms with the situation instead.”
Hrallak held herself with her own arms, “If the horrid things that have happened on this ship are getting to you, then you aren't ready for Wriss. Here… people were tortured, killed and eaten… on Wriss it was entire species…”
Rivera was starting to shake when Caulnek slapped a paw on his back, “It'll be fine. We've turned this ship from one of death to salvation, we can do it again. I got a projector and some human movies from a friend. What do you say about turning the lights down and watching them?”
“Y-yeah sure.”
Ivan tilted his head, “Movies? As in video media for entertainment instead of education? Can I watch? I've never seen anything like that before.”
Caulnek flicked his ears yes, then Lesh rolled his eyes and walked out of the room as Caulnek set up his projector. While Ivan, Ishveil and Hrallak sat separated from us, we all sat in a close-knit ball.
With the already dim lights off, our only source of illumination was the projector's light bouncing off the wall. A series of short clips began to play, depicting a series of quarries and mines. For the most part, it was heavy machines moving vast amounts of earth and stone.
Stupidly large dump trucks practically carried mountains on their backs. A gargantuan chain saw cut into the earth, making an artificial valley in a matter of hours. A drill comparable to a skyscraper began to drill a tunnel down into the earth.
I could only begin to imagine this movie was about mining and the stresses that it brings. Several humans began to carefully set up explosives in a tunnel and ran cables to a safe place. The lot of them were smiling at each other and were practically bouncing from excitement. Two humans standing several feet apart nodded at each other and flipped the plastic safety covers on two red switches before flipping them.
As the light turned green, every human ducked and covered in their makeshift bunkers as the detonation sent a shockwave down the tunnel. As the dust settled, I noticed the music that was playing in the background was now silent.
Two people walked off into the settling dust cloud and began to scream. A man who for the entire time he has been on the screen has had a blank emotionless face picked up a radio, “Report.”
“WE HIT THE FUCKING MOTHERLOAD! THE ENTIRE CAVE IS MADE OF THIS NEEAHRITE SHIT! HELL THERE ARE FLOATING COLUMNS OF THIS STUFF”
The description of the made up material caught me off guard. It wasn't until a serious dude walked forward that I realized why they said that. A floating hexagonal pillar of pearlescent green and orange stone floated weightlessly in the middle of a large chamber. As the miners walked through the chamber, what I had assumed to be just the minerals lining the walls twinkling in the light were pushed away like leaves floating on water.
The illusion broke as I realized that the air was filled with small floating particles. They almost gave the impression of being submerged underwater. A miner swept a bag through the air and closed it, “Hey, let's get out of here. Pretty sure breathing in minerals causes cancer. We can come back with respirat-” BANG!
We all jumped as a red puff came from the man's chest. The miners began to scream and run, but each one fell over after their own personal gunshot went off. Soon the only person standing was the emotionless human who wiped some blood off his face.
Several armed soldiers came into the cave wearing full combat gear and respirators, “Sir. Site secured. All potential leaks have been neutralized.”
Their leader fell to his knees and held his hands up to the floating monolith, “Excellent. Begin phase 2.”
Caulnek threw his paws into the air, “What?! Why did they do that? All those people worked together!”
Ishveil snorted, “I doubt that. That one human in charge was using the miners. When he was done using them, he threw them away. I've seen dominion officers do that to countless runts.”
“I- I just never imagined that as something humans would think of…”
“Then you need to read up on Humanity's past. Especially about their most hated foe, the Nazis.”
The camera cut to a man nearby a primitive cabin in the woods. He looked grizzled and old as he was nervously picking at his beard. A truck rolling up caught his attention and he waved at it. I couldn't read the words on it, but the woodsman addressed the man who stepped out of the truck, “Evening, Warden. Thanks for coming out here.”
“Hey, thank you! If there's aA new disease going around affecting the wildlife, I want to get on top of it now and not later. So tell me what happened.”
“Well sir. I got my permit to harvest yesterday when I noticed my stores were getting low.”
“Thank ya for doing that!”
“Welcome. I went to go harvest my first deer and… well, when I shot it, my round ricocheted off. Like I hit a piece of wrought-iron.”
They walked over to the deer and my little herd flinched as he showed the flayed corpse of a prey animal hanging upside down.
“It didn't run off so I shot it again but in the head this time. I brought it back here to dress it, but…”
I suppressed a gag as the man stuck his hand into the corpse and- pulled out a huge chuck of the mineral we had just seen, “Well… this!?”
The warden opened up a bag and took the stone from him, “Go wash your hands now. I- fuck! I got no clue what this is or if it can jump the species barrier. Also, I am taking the deer too, I'll have you compensated and get ya a new tag.”
Ivan spoke up, “Did those rocks… infect that animal?”
Wiesera shook her head, “No. Rocks can't infect anything. What likely happened is this mineral was absorbed by vegetation, which the animal ate and absorbed. That stone chunk the Game Warden pulled out was its intestines. The mineral is probably also contaminating the entire body of it.”
We quieted down again as the show carried on. The warden had put out an alert to the town about the mineralization of local animals, as well as a notice to not drink the groundwater. The Game Warden was standing with his brother, a police officer, as a doctor explained that several people were already showing signs of mineralization.
The pair of them discussed what they could do to try and solve this epidemic. Apparently, all means of communicating with the outside world were gone and both of the major roads coming into the area had collapsed into sinkholes.
Finally, the brother's decided that the Police would help the few Doctors help patients and keep a quarantine enforced while the Warden would go ask the miner's if there was an expert on call who could help.
As the brothers left the coroner's office, they both froze, like spotted prey. One of the miners who was visibly missing part of his head was standing in front of them. The warden took a half step towards him before the miner let out a star’s awful wail. I heard the sound of Hrallak skittering back as we watched the miner rush, lift and throw the warden ten feet onto the hood of his own truck. His brother quickly whipped out a taser and shot the man with it but started to backpedal as he just kept walking despite the electricity flowing through his body.
As the Police brother screamed in fear at the mineralized miner, the Warden managed to scramble off his truck and grab a shotgun from his cab. He fired a round into the miner's head, causing it to explode like a dropped ceramic plate. The body made another step forward and slowly started to crumble.
The brothers stared at the dust laying on the road as sirens began to grow in intensity. The screen smash cut to a dozen law enforcement cruisers ripping through mountain roads on their way to the quarry. As they approached the locked gates, the first cruiser flew through it, smashing it open for the others. While the officers climbing out didn’t look like they were anything special, they still moved in a coordinated effort.
Ishviel thumped his tail, “Are we going to see human strike teams at work?”
Caulnek snorted, “Yeah, no. From what I’ve seen of human media, their entertainment industry cares very little for accuracy. Expect these guys to do some nonsensical stuff.”
The Brother officer stepped out of his truck and loaded some shells into his shotgun. Another officer berated him for taking a lethal weapon into this quarantine operation when he stopped and stared them down, “I watched someone already mineralized chuck my older brother like a gawdamn can of beans. I will try to save as many people as possible, but I ain’t gonna die for this.”
With the defiant statement made, we proceeded to watch some surprisingly boring action. Or perhaps the actual action we had all seen took any entertainment out of it for us. From police officers ignoring all sense of danger and the lack of any competency of the bad guys who were still holding the mines hostage, I couldn’t tell who was worse. We’d watch three officers walk into a clear ambush, only for the bad guys to reveal themselves and then proceed to miss every shot.
Whenever the cops had to deal with those that had been mineralized, the victims suddenly moved five times slower and had absolutely none of their previous magical strength. It was starting to get so bad that we were all laughing by the time the warden and his brother confronted the mine’s manager. Yet, we all froze for a moment when we saw him. He stood there with his back turned to them and his hands held in the air, worshiping the floating monolith. He slowly turned around to reveal… some sort of pink goop thing piloting a robot human?
Wiesera just let out a “What the FUCK is this show?!” while Ivan doubled over in pain from laughing so hard.
Ishviel gave a confused look to Caulnek, “What is the plot of this thing?!”
Caulnek held his paws in the air, “It's a B movie. Guys had no budget to make a movie but wanted to anyways for some reason. My friend and I spent quite some time during the exchange watching these silly things.”
Hrallak was holding the tip or her snout as tears rolled down her eyes, “Oh my gosh, so this isn’t even good Human entertainment?”
“NOPE! Bottom of the barrel right here! Now shush! We are getting to the good part! The villain's monologue!”
“No you stupid apes. We Takakapalta have always been around. We were and have always been. Since your planet's life was barely strands of DNA swimming around in hot mud, we have planned. We have worked and strived and bled for this day. The day the Neahrite is ready for harvest. The full-”
The Warden rolled his eyes, “OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” before the brothers fired shell after shell into the alien, killing it.
The Police officer placed his hand on the warden’s shoulder, “Hey… should we have brought it in alive for the feds?”
He and the warden laughed as they walked off and the credits rolled.
Wiesera had buried her head in her paws, “I’m sorry but… WHAT!? Just WHAT?! THEY AREN’T GOING TO ADDRESS THE DISEASE RUNNING RAMPANT THROUGH THE TOWN?! THROUGH THE ECOSYSTEM?!”
Ishviel rolled onto his back and splayed himself across the floor, “What about those tactics? I thought those humans in masks defending the mines were professional soldiers! Those ambushes! They practically screamed, ‘this is an ambush’ before jumping out of cover and getting shot!”
Caulnek was laughing even harder, “Oh yeah! Or the fact that the whole explanation we got was, ‘Aliens did it.’ Like that wraps up anything nicely at all!”
Ivan was still chuckling to himself, “Are all the movies that you have these… B movies?”
“YUP!”
“Put another one on. I’ve never laughed like this before.”
___/\___
Movie night with the more friendly gator bois! And gal. Caulnek was introduced to cheesy B movies and now the whole gang is too! Looks like they might have a pleasant time en-route to Wriss!
Also this week SUCKED. Monday my car hit some deep water early in the morning and popped my water belt off causing my car to overheat. That led to a 4 hour trip home when it should have been 35 minutes. Bought a new belt and it’s fixed. THEN on friday our parking lot floods and the floor of my car gets flooded. Any higher and it would have poured into my car when I opened the door. It’s been three days and I will likely have to pull the seats, center console and some other things out to remove the carpet. Maybe I can find someone to pay to fix this problem. But hey… Ford should start building my truck this week.
___/\___
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Library of BiasMushroom contains every link for everything I have written! Check it out as some stuff related to Nature of Humanity may not appear on HFY! As well as my little side stories and Fanfics of other NoP fanfics!
The Nature of Humanity
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Destination; Wriss
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For anyone posting to HFY do NOT select HFY first. It bugs out and doesn't work nice with copy/paste from google docs.
submitted by BiasMushroom to HFY [link] [comments]
Destination; Wriss part 18
A Fanfic of u/SpacePaladin15’s work “The Nature of Predators.” Thank you for the story!
___
Excerpt of Dr. Elva's Journal recovered from the wreck of the Dauntless Victory
Many people suffer from motion sickness on space-faring ships. Normally, this comes from the disjoint of the body’s means of understanding how its actually moving and the mind's perception of how it is moving, but with the invention of inertial dampeners, one would think standing in what feels like a stationary room with no windows wouldn't cause motion sickness.
Yet, that's precisely what's been happening to me. I've never felt this way before. Dr. Wiesera believes the sudden onset of motion sickness is caused by the stress of our current situation. I am given to believe her as I have noticed ticks in the rest of the crew. For example, Crevan has begun pacing in circles but seems confused when someone tries to get his attention. The only person who seems calm and unbothered is Barmlin, but given his disorder, I am confident in dismissing this abnormal behavior. To be truthful, I am a little glad to see the Arxur just as nervous as us.
____
Memory transcription subject: Elva, Morvim Charter Soldier
Date [standardized human time]: November 3rd, 2136
Our ship was hovering listlessly in the void of space just past the small astrological body known as Pluto. My digits tightened around the trigger of my gun as the five of us kept our weapons trained on the door. Crevan was unable to stop Isif from inspecting the “gifts” Humanity was giving to the Arxur as “thanks” for their intervention.
Wiesera let out a sigh as she lowered her firearm and grabbed the pad displaying the security feed, “Alright… we are in the clear. Isif has just departed the ship.”
We let out a collective sigh. The first hurdle for getting to Wriss had just been cleared without so much as a scratch. We lowered our guns as Hrallak opened the door, “We are safe for now. Crevan doubts we will get boarded again. Isif is apparently a bit of an outlier among the Chief Hunters.”
Caulnek stood up and stretched, “Hey, it's not like we didn't expect to get boarded leaving here and upon entering Dominion space.”
Rivera rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Still couldn't we have done something better than just sit in a cattle pen with our guns pointed at the door?”
Hrallak thumped her tail no, “This is the Dominion we are speaking about. The great purge taught them everything about how stuff is hidden. I watched an Auditor enter a friend's house and in half a second open their hidden door. If they actually had anything stored in there, they would have all been executed via…”
As she trailed off, Wiesera changed the subject, “I never thought I'd willingly experience what it's like to lift off inside an Arxur ship. This is… unsettling.”
Hrallak wagged her tail, “It's sort of the opposite for me. For the first time in my life, I've come for the people in this room without that horrid knot in my guts. It feels like I'm free.”
It finally dawned on me as we grabbed our limited possessions and left the cattle pen behind for good, that every time she has come to this room before it’s been to drag some unfortunate soul to their death. Even if Crevan stated that she tried to be merciful, her paws were personally stained with a rainbow of blood that I doubt she would ever be able to wash out.
Yet, there was a slight spring in her step as she led the way to the galley with us in tow. Before she probably had to drag screaming victims to their fate, and now she is leading us to one of many meetings. I suppose in a sense, she is finally free. Whether this mission is successful or not, she will never butcher another sapient for as long as she lives.
My tail had the slightest wag to it as we entered the galley. The smell of disinfectant and bleach was strong enough to hit my blunt sense of smell but helped to wipe away any thought of the horrors that happened in this area. Lesh, Ishveil, and Ivan were waiting for us with cloths draped over their snouts.
For a moment, I thought they were trying to mimic what the humans do with their face coverings before they handed a cloth to both Hrallak and Wiesera. Wiesera took in a deep breath through the cloth, “Thank you, this smells a lot stronger than the hospital., Oh! This is a rather strange scent! I wouldn't think the Arxur would approve of scented laundry detergent!”
Ivan chuckled, “The dominion doesn't, but when I got a whiff of what the humans did to clean this ship, I nearly hurled. Thankfully, they had a handy solution ready. The smell should lighten up soon. And we also have more towels if you want them for any reason.”
Lesh thumped his tail against the ground, “Crevan and Mico are piloting the ship. You know the crew rotation. It should be quiet for the next few days… at least before we arrive.”
Ivan thumped his tail in agreement, “Normally, I'd suggest using downtime to train, but that is not exactly something we can do on this ship. So whatever you can do to keep ready for the attack without blowing the ship up or ruining our cover will be essential.”
Rivera stuck his paw in the air, “Does that include doing anything to distract us from the fact we are on a cattle ship?”
Lesh's eyes opened wide, almost as if he hadn’t considered what being on board would be like for us. He thumped his tail, “Y-yeah. It wouldn't do to have you freaking out… but it would be better for you to come to terms with the situation instead.”
Hrallak held herself with her own arms, “If the horrid things that have happened on this ship are getting to you, then you aren't ready for Wriss. Here… people were tortured, killed and eaten… on Wriss it was entire species…”
Rivera was starting to shake when Caulnek slapped a paw on his back, “It'll be fine. We've turned this ship from one of death to salvation, we can do it again. I got a projector and some human movies from a friend. What do you say about turning the lights down and watching them?”
“Y-yeah sure.”
Ivan tilted his head, “Movies? As in video media for entertainment instead of education? Can I watch? I've never seen anything like that before.”
Caulnek flicked his ears yes, then Lesh rolled his eyes and walked out of the room as Caulnek set up his projector. While Ivan, Ishveil and Hrallak sat separated from us, we all sat in a close-knit ball.
With the already dim lights off, our only source of illumination was the projector's light bouncing off the wall. A series of short clips began to play, depicting a series of quarries and mines. For the most part, it was heavy machines moving vast amounts of earth and stone.
Stupidly large dump trucks practically carried mountains on their backs. A gargantuan chain saw cut into the earth, making an artificial valley in a matter of hours. A drill comparable to a skyscraper began to drill a tunnel down into the earth.
I could only begin to imagine this movie was about mining and the stresses that it brings. Several humans began to carefully set up explosives in a tunnel and ran cables to a safe place. The lot of them were smiling at each other and were practically bouncing from excitement. Two humans standing several feet apart nodded at each other and flipped the plastic safety covers on two red switches before flipping them.
As the light turned green, every human ducked and covered in their makeshift bunkers as the detonation sent a shockwave down the tunnel. As the dust settled, I noticed the music that was playing in the background was now silent.
Two people walked off into the settling dust cloud and began to scream. A man who for the entire time he has been on the screen has had a blank emotionless face picked up a radio, “Report.”
“WE HIT THE FUCKING MOTHERLOAD! THE ENTIRE CAVE IS MADE OF THIS NEEAHRITE SHIT! HELL THERE ARE FLOATING COLUMNS OF THIS STUFF”
The description of the made up material caught me off guard. It wasn't until a serious dude walked forward that I realized why they said that. A floating hexagonal pillar of pearlescent green and orange stone floated weightlessly in the middle of a large chamber. As the miners walked through the chamber, what I had assumed to be just the minerals lining the walls twinkling in the light were pushed away like leaves floating on water.
The illusion broke as I realized that the air was filled with small floating particles. They almost gave the impression of being submerged underwater. A miner swept a bag through the air and closed it, “Hey, let's get out of here. Pretty sure breathing in minerals causes cancer. We can come back with respirat-” BANG!
We all jumped as a red puff came from the man's chest. The miners began to scream and run, but each one fell over after their own personal gunshot went off. Soon the only person standing was the emotionless human who wiped some blood off his face.
Several armed soldiers came into the cave wearing full combat gear and respirators, “Sir. Site secured. All potential leaks have been neutralized.”
Their leader fell to his knees and held his hands up to the floating monolith, “Excellent. Begin phase 2.”
Caulnek threw his paws into the air, “What?! Why did they do that? All those people worked together!”
Ishveil snorted, “I doubt that. That one human in charge was using the miners. When he was done using them, he threw them away. I've seen dominion officers do that to countless runts.”
“I- I just never imagined that as something humans would think of…”
“Then you need to read up on Humanity's past. Especially about their most hated foe, the Nazis.”
The camera cut to a man nearby a primitive cabin in the woods. He looked grizzled and old as he was nervously picking at his beard. A truck rolling up caught his attention and he waved at it. I couldn't read the words on it, but the woodsman addressed the man who stepped out of the truck, “Evening, Warden. Thanks for coming out here.”
“Hey, thank you! If there's aA new disease going around affecting the wildlife, I want to get on top of it now and not later. So tell me what happened.”
“Well sir. I got my permit to harvest yesterday when I noticed my stores were getting low.”
“Thank ya for doing that!”
“Welcome. I went to go harvest my first deer and… well, when I shot it, my round ricocheted off. Like I hit a piece of wrought-iron.”
They walked over to the deer and my little herd flinched as he showed the flayed corpse of a prey animal hanging upside down.
“It didn't run off so I shot it again but in the head this time. I brought it back here to dress it, but…”
I suppressed a gag as the man stuck his hand into the corpse and- pulled out a huge chuck of the mineral we had just seen, “Well… this!?”
The warden opened up a bag and took the stone from him, “Go wash your hands now. I- fuck! I got no clue what this is or if it can jump the species barrier. Also, I am taking the deer too, I'll have you compensated and get ya a new tag.”
Ivan spoke up, “Did those rocks… infect that animal?”
Wiesera shook her head, “No. Rocks can't infect anything. What likely happened is this mineral was absorbed by vegetation, which the animal ate and absorbed. That stone chunk the Game Warden pulled out was its intestines. The mineral is probably also contaminating the entire body of it.”
We quieted down again as the show carried on. The warden had put out an alert to the town about the mineralization of local animals, as well as a notice to not drink the groundwater. The Game Warden was standing with his brother, a police officer, as a doctor explained that several people were already showing signs of mineralization.
The pair of them discussed what they could do to try and solve this epidemic. Apparently, all means of communicating with the outside world were gone and both of the major roads coming into the area had collapsed into sinkholes.
Finally, the brother's decided that the Police would help the few Doctors help patients and keep a quarantine enforced while the Warden would go ask the miner's if there was an expert on call who could help.
As the brothers left the coroner's office, they both froze, like spotted prey. One of the miners who was visibly missing part of his head was standing in front of them. The warden took a half step towards him before the miner let out a star’s awful wail. I heard the sound of Hrallak skittering back as we watched the miner rush, lift and throw the warden ten feet onto the hood of his own truck. His brother quickly whipped out a taser and shot the man with it but started to backpedal as he just kept walking despite the electricity flowing through his body.
As the Police brother screamed in fear at the mineralized miner, the Warden managed to scramble off his truck and grab a shotgun from his cab. He fired a round into the miner's head, causing it to explode like a dropped ceramic plate. The body made another step forward and slowly started to crumble.
The brothers stared at the dust laying on the road as sirens began to grow in intensity. The screen smash cut to a dozen law enforcement cruisers ripping through mountain roads on their way to the quarry. As they approached the locked gates, the first cruiser flew through it, smashing it open for the others. While the officers climbing out didn’t look like they were anything special, they still moved in a coordinated effort.
Ishviel thumped his tail, “Are we going to see human strike teams at work?”
Caulnek snorted, “Yeah, no. From what I’ve seen of human media, their entertainment industry cares very little for accuracy. Expect these guys to do some nonsensical stuff.”
The Brother officer stepped out of his truck and loaded some shells into his shotgun. Another officer berated him for taking a lethal weapon into this quarantine operation when he stopped and stared them down, “I watched someone already mineralized chuck my older brother like a gawdamn can of beans. I will try to save as many people as possible, but I ain’t gonna die for this.”
With the defiant statement made, we proceeded to watch some surprisingly boring action. Or perhaps the actual action we had all seen took any entertainment out of it for us. From police officers ignoring all sense of danger and the lack of any competency of the bad guys who were still holding the mines hostage, I couldn’t tell who was worse. We’d watch three officers walk into a clear ambush, only for the bad guys to reveal themselves and then proceed to miss every shot.
Whenever the cops had to deal with those that had been mineralized, the victims suddenly moved five times slower and had absolutely none of their previous magical strength. It was starting to get so bad that we were all laughing by the time the warden and his brother confronted the mine’s manager. Yet, we all froze for a moment when we saw him. He stood there with his back turned to them and his hands held in the air, worshiping the floating monolith. He slowly turned around to reveal… some sort of pink goop thing piloting a robot human?
Wiesera just let out a “What the FUCK is this show?!” while Ivan doubled over in pain from laughing so hard.
Ishviel gave a confused look to Caulnek, “What is the plot of this thing?!”
Caulnek held his paws in the air, “It's a B movie. Guys had no budget to make a movie but wanted to anyways for some reason. My friend and I spent quite some time during the exchange watching these silly things.”
Hrallak was holding the tip or her snout as tears rolled down her eyes, “Oh my gosh, so this isn’t even good Human entertainment?”
“NOPE! Bottom of the barrel right here! Now shush! We are getting to the good part! The villain's monologue!”
“No you stupid apes. We Takakapalta have always been around. We were and have always been. Since your planet's life was barely strands of DNA swimming around in hot mud, we have planned. We have worked and strived and bled for this day. The day the Neahrite is ready for harvest. The full-”
The Warden rolled his eyes, “OH, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” before the brothers fired shell after shell into the alien, killing it.
The Police officer placed his hand on the warden’s shoulder, “Hey… should we have brought it in alive for the feds?”
He and the warden laughed as they walked off and the credits rolled.
Wiesera had buried her head in her paws, “I’m sorry but… WHAT!? Just WHAT?! THEY AREN’T GOING TO ADDRESS THE DISEASE RUNNING RAMPANT THROUGH THE TOWN?! THROUGH THE ECOSYSTEM?!”
Ishviel rolled onto his back and splayed himself across the floor, “What about those tactics? I thought those humans in masks defending the mines were professional soldiers! Those ambushes! They practically screamed, ‘this is an ambush’ before jumping out of cover and getting shot!”
Caulnek was laughing even harder, “Oh yeah! Or the fact that the whole explanation we got was, ‘Aliens did it.’ Like that wraps up anything nicely at all!”
Ivan was still chuckling to himself, “Are all the movies that you have these… B movies?”
“YUP!”
“Put another one on. I’ve never laughed like this before.”
___/\___
Movie night with the more friendly gator bois! And gal. Caulnek was introduced to cheesy B movies and now the whole gang is too! Looks like they might have a pleasant time en-route to Wriss!
Also this week SUCKED. Monday my car hit some deep water early in the morning and popped my water belt off causing my car to overheat. That led to a 4 hour trip home when it should have been 35 minutes. Bought a new belt and it’s fixed. THEN on friday our parking lot floods and the floor of my car gets flooded. Any higher and it would have poured into my car when I opened the door. It’s been three days and I will likely have to pull the seats, center console and some other things out to remove the carpet. Maybe I can find someone to pay to fix this problem. But hey… Ford should start building my truck this week.
___/\___
Directory
Library of BiasMushroom contains every link for everything I have written! Check it out as some stuff related to Nature of Humanity may not appear on HFY! As well as my little side stories and Fanfics of other NoP fanfics!
The Nature of Humanity
First / Previous / Next
Destination; Wriss
First / Previous / Next
For anyone posting to HFY do NOT select HFY first. It bugs out and doesn't work nice with copy/paste from google docs.
2024.05.06 01:25 xtremexavier15 TMA 4
"Welcome back to Total Drama Action!" The episode faded back in with a shot of the front gate, the camera panning out and down to show the castmates and host back in their regular attire. "Where against all advice to the contrary, the players have changed out of their bathing suits. Hope you like swimmin' in your jeans," Chris told them, folding his arms.
"Do you expect us to believe that we'll be going to the beach this time?" Sky asked.
As if on cue, a horn was honked and the shot panned over to the Boat of Losers driving up to the side of the set.
"You were saying?" Chris asked.
Confessional: Ripper
"Chris actually didn't tell us hogwash?" Ripper explained in surprise. "Who would have expected that?"
Confessional Ends
The scene cut back to the host and contestants getting on the boat. "Since the beach we're going to isn't connected to the film lot, we're traveling via boat,” Chris informed the teens. “Bet you guys feel stupid for changing out of your swimsuits now!”
“We thought you were going to put us in another studio that's as chilly as Alaska!” Anne Maria called out. “Don't blame us because we were trying to think ahead.”
"And that's what I like about you kids," Chris smirked before the boat started to take off.
The camera skipped ahead to Chris' feet as he stepped onto sand, the shot panning up. "Yes campers, we're actually back at your old stomping grounds," he announced as birds called in the background, "Total! Drama! Island!" The shot zoomed out as it usually did when the series' name was said, and the eleven teens were shown standing in their teams by two sectioned-off areas of beach.
"If you need to take a moment and reminisce about the great times you had here," Chris told them, Chef Hatchet standing at his side.
They all took a moment… to burst out laughing.
"Fine," Chris said, "we'll skip the good memories montage. Screaming Gaffers, you've got a thirty-minute head start on," a few dramatic beats were played over close-ups of the colorful plastic tools that were in the two makeshift sandboxes, "the Sand Castle Building Contest! To be judged by our resident King o' the Dunes!" A deep drumroll played as Chef placed a tall sand-colored, castle-shaped crown on his head. "Make like prop masters, guys, and give me something awesome. I really don't want the tiebreaker to have to go down."
The shot cut over to a trio of logs tied together in a pyramid shape. "I don't think legal's quite approved it yet." The camera panned down the rope, showing a large boulder suspended above a crash test dummy. The rope snapped and the dummy was crushed, then the structure itself collapsed, then a reddish-orange car – its horn, the Confederate national anthem and a '01' painted onto the roof – came flying off from the high ground behind the beach and crashed into the pile.
The footage flashed to the Gaffers. "Chase, go make the sand in that bucket!" MK commanded, sending the daredevil off running. "Ripper, pack it firmer!"
"And who got killed to make you boss?" Ripper demanded.
"In my history class, I was taught about Frank Gehry," MK explained.
“Who?” Ripper asked in confusion.
"He's one of the greatest architects of our time," MK detailed, “and the number of buildings created by him are thirty three.”
"Yeah yeah yeah," Ripper cut her off. “Continue to geek out and I may kick the sandcastle into your face. Now where's Scott?”
"He said he was gonna go get some more buckets," MK replied, annoyed by Ripper's threat.
The scene flashed over to Scott, who was holding a stack of three metal buckets as he walked through the woods towards the beach. He saw the Grips idling around their construction area for a bit but decided to carry on.
Confessional: Scott
“As much as it'll bring me joy to mess with the other team's sandcastle, I did promise to stick by MK's side and not make any big moves so that I wouldn't get eliminated,” Scott mentioned. “My old habits didn't die hard.”
Confessional Ends
"Three, two," Chris counted down, his eyes on his watch. Instead of calling out 'one', Chef blew a few notes on a trumpet. "Thank you Chef!" Chris said as the two watched over the Gaffers, all now working on a ring of five towers surrounding the central one. "Screaming Gaffers, your thirty-minute lead is over, so," he walked to the other team, "Grips, dudes, get castlin'."
"First things first!" Brick proclaimed. "We'll need water!" He and Millie grabbed buckets and took off.
"I'll get some from the mountain stream!" Anne Maria declared.
"You all know we could use the lake," Jasmine pointed out.
"Our mistake!" Millie cried as she and Brick ran back past the others.
"Quiet!" Trent yelled, forcing his team to freeze. "We need a plan, and I've got one."
Confessional: Justin
"Little Trent mans up. Wow. Even I had goosebumps,” Justin said and started looking at himself in his mirror. “And there wasn't a mirror for miles."
Confessional Ends
The scene showed Anne Maria, Justin, and Millie at work with strengthing their sand castle while Trent monitored them.
“That's right. Nine turrets, nine doors,” Trent instructed as Brick and Jasmine poured more sand. “Justin, add one more moat, so we have…”
“Nine?” Millie finished for him.
Anne Maria notices a crab crawling around. She picked it up and used her lipstick to draw their team logo onto the shell. "We can use this as a flag!" she said as she put the crab on top one of their sticks, making the crab fall out of its shell.
“Great! We just need eight more!” Trent said. “We'll need all the luck we can gather up.”
The camera flashed to show the finished result of the Gaffers’ sand castle now with red flags on top. "Now this is the Taj Ma-Kate," MK announced, "named after my real name, Mary Kate." The camera panned across the impressed faces of the Gaffers.
Meanwhile, Trent was adding more shells to the castle's six. “Dude, stop at three. Stop at five. Just, just stop!” Justin advised him as the team looked worried.
“It can't support that much weight!” Jasmine claimed, “so unless you want the castle to be demolished, don't add any more shells.”
“Alright then,” Trent sighed.
“What if we rip up some of my magazines and put them around the castle?” Anne Maria suggested.
"It's a sand castle building contest, Anne Maria," Millie rebutted.
"No, it's a prop sand castle building contest,” Anne Maria corrected. “With papers and hairspray, we could do paper mache!"
“Crafty,” Justin smirked.
“Good idea, Anne Maria,” Millie smiled in approval as the Jersey girl took out four magazines from her pockets. “Sorry I doubted you.”
“Everybody start tearing up these magazines!” Jasmine ordered as the team ripped up the magazines and put them onto the bucket that Brick was holding.
“Remember, nine of everything!” Trent added in, much to his teammates’ bother.
The footage skipped forward to show the Grips standing around their paper mache sand castle.
"I dub thee… Casa Sky!" Trent announced.
Sky and Chase were overseeing the Grips’ castle. “Did Trent just name his team's sandcastle after me?” Sky asked in astonishment.
“Correctamondo,” Chase nodded. “And why are you bothered by this so much?”
“I'm not. It's just that the castles are supposed to be team based, not relationship based,” Sky explained.
“At least he's not going all crazy over you,” Chase told her.
“Yeah. It could be a lot worse,” Sky shivered.
The shot cut to show both teams, the camera panning right and focusing in on the Gaffers as they tried to deal with a number of seagulls that had taken up residence in and around their castle.
"Get away from my castle, you stupid gulls!" MK hissed as she and the rest of her team tried and failed to scare the birds away.
Finally, the flock of gulls took off squawking – and in doing so, caused the Gaffers' castle to collapse. "This is why I hate birds!" MK griped as a cloud of sand and feathers settled to the ground.
The scene cut back to Chris and Chef. "We have a winner!" Chris announced. "Anne Maria and the Killer Grips' clever prop, Casa dos Paper Mache!"
The winning team celebrated. "You can thank me and my flawless style," Anne Maria flashed a smile.
"Which means," Chris said as the camera cut back to him, "we need a new tiebreaker!" His face fell into a scowl. "And I was hoping for the evening off. Instead," he grinned again, "gather ye some wood, campers, for a fire of the bon variety."
The scene changed to the woods, where Sky was gathering sticks up off the ground when Justin and Trent walked up to her with sticks of their own.
"Sky!" Trent called, grabbing her attention. "Hey! I feel like it's been ages since we had any uh, you know... quality time together."
"I'll give you two some privacy," Justin said and walked off.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” Sky wondered.
"I kinda want to talk to you about..." Trent began.
Sky's attention was caught by the number of sticks he carried. "Not to interrupt," she started to say, "but you're carrying nine sticks."
"Of course," Trent said casually. "It's my lucky number. Something the matter?"
"I did overhear you trying to make nine out of everything…" Sky said nervously. "We should talk later. We really need to focus on the game."
"Sky, wait up!" Trent called out, but she already ran off, leaving him confused. "What am I doing wrong?"
"I oversaw everything, so I can answer that for you," Justin said as he reentered the shot. "You're in a relationship with her, and normally, the most important thing would be to make her happy. What does she like most?"
"Sky does like winners…" Trent thought slowly.
"Exactly," Justin winked. “Do what you think is best for you and your girlfriend.” The eye candy walked away, his devious grin hidden from Trent, who smiled at an idea forming in his head.
The footage skipped ahead to night, a full moon high in the sky as the castmates and Chris stood on the beach. The host clapped his hands, and the firepit and assorted torches burst into flame.
"Why did you even make us go and collect firewood?" Brick asked angrily.
"I needed some alone time," Chris answered bluntly. "You think these hands manicure themselves?" He held out a hand towards the cadet. "Which brings us to the tiebreaking challenge!" The surf music started again. "A watusi-twist-mashed potato dorky old school dance contest!" he announced while sampling a variety of those and similar dance styles. "Teams! Choose your best boogier for battle!"
The music ended as Ripper immediately walked forward. "I'll show you all my funky moves," he said.
“I nominate Trent to step up,” Millie spoke up.
“We heard you got some fly moves,” Justin told the team leader.
“Okay, I'll do it,” Trent agreed.
The footage flashed forward to a close-up of a stereo on a table; Chris pressed a button on it and a surf rock song began to play. Trent and Ripper approached one another nearby and stood face-to-face.
"Prepare to be humiliated worse than a wet-willie," Ripper taunted.
"Bring it," Trent countered.
The two young men backed up, and began to dance. Both immediately showed themselves to be talented, Trent's swaggy styles more than matched by Ripper's more wild and funky moves.
The camera quickly panned across the Screaming Gaffers, who seemed to be impressed by their teammate.
Confessional: Scott
"That guy's moves are impressive," Scott said in the confessional. "That's as far as I'm gonna go in complimenting him after he forced me to go first in the surfing portion!"
Confessional: MK
"Funky and groovy," MK said in her own confessional. "I thought he'd bomb it, but he managed to subvert my expectations."
Confessionals End
Trent was nodding his head in different directions before facing the camera and pushing his hands forward.
“Go Trent!” Jasmine cheered.
“Don't stop now!” Anne Maria supported.
Trent looked over at Sky for a moment, who was frowning from their earlier conversation. He then started to feel conflicted.
Confessional: Trent
The thing is, if Sky wants to win, why is it unethical for me to help her? I'm Trent first and a Killer Grip second,” Trent emphasized. “Oh, can we erase that? Confession might be good for the soul. It's not so good for the teamwork.”
Confessional Ends
As Ripper did a chain wave with his arms, Trent was moonwalking in the background. The guitarist noticed a stick lying behind him, and after winking at the camera, he deliberately tripped on the stick and fell backwards.
The music stopped as the Grips stared in shock. "Dude, get up!" Justin cried.
Trent groaned in his position. "I think I have turned my ankle!"
“Seriously? And now?" Anne Maria moaned.
Trent attempted to move his body while remaining on his back, which stopped when Chris stood over him. "That's not dancing!" the older man disapproved.
"It's modern," Trent tried to explain. "It's uh... interpretive!"
"I interpret that as sucking big time," MK snarked.
"Not now, MK!" Sky shushed her. "Trent is currently distressed right now."
"That's not your problem," Chase told her. "It's his. Not to be mean or anything."
Confessional: Sky
"I like Trent," Sky told the camera in the make-up trailer, "but I can't ignore whether he's feeling unwell or not. Us being on different teams is likely the reason for his recent attitude."
Confessional Ends
"Thanks to Trent's blunder," Chris said, "Ripper and the Screaming Gaffers are the winners! And your reward...," the camera pulled out to show the entire cast, "the greatest beach party ever pitched!"
The Gaffers began to cheer, and Trent caught Sky's eye. She motioned for them to meet up a little ways away before walking off and Trent followed.
The scene changed to the woods as Sky and Trent reunited. “I know you really wanted to win,” Trent spoke first.
“And I know ankles don't immediately heal in a few seconds,” Sky said back.
“I'm weird like that,” Trent said.
“Speaking of weird, what was with that nine stuff earlier on?” Sky wondered. “I was going to talk to you about it earlier on, but we were still in a challenge.”
“If I'm being honest with you, nine is my lucky number, and I thought I'd rely on it to help us with the sand castle building contest,” Trent admitted.
“So you're superstitious?” Sky smiled at this. “You never told me this before.”
“You never asked, and I didn't think about bringing it up,” Trent continued. “Let's get back to our teams before Chris forces us too.”
“Good idea,” Sky nodded before they took off.
The footage skipped ahead, a hip-hop tune playing on the stereo as the camera panned down to the now-partying Gaffers, Sky included. A pan left took the focus to the Grips, disappointment on their faces, as they waited in a group near Chris.
"If the losing team could just follow me to the boat," Chris said before walking off down the beach, the six Grips following unhappily.
Later on, the Gaffers were watching Ripper perform two air punches to the air before performing the worm on the floor. Scott, who was feeling tired, decided to kick sand onto Ripper's face.
Ripper felt the sand and stopped dancing in order to cough. “What did you do that for?!” he demanded.
“Come on. You know I had to get you back for the surfing fiasco,” Scott said.
Confessional: Scott
“I just made history by kicking sand into the bully's face!” Scott cackled. “How's that for subverting movie stereotypes?!”
Confessional Ends
The scene switched to the area in front of the cast trailers back at the film lot as the Grips headed straight for their beds, though Justin held Anne Maria back by her shoulder.
"What is it?" Anne Maria yawned. "Can't you see I'm tired?"
"I just want to thank you for winning us the sand castle contest," Justin said to her. "Especially since I blew the surfing challenge. You really saved my bacon."
“You're welcome,” Anne Maria said. “I don't want to get booted off the show early again. You understand, right?”
“Definitely. I didn't fare much better as well, but I'm positive that this season will be your breakthrough for fame,” Justin winked at the now flattered girl.
“Anything you say, handsome,” Anne Maria laughed in her enamored state, but another yawn from her changed her mood to cranky. “I mean, we better go to sleep!”
Confessional: Justin
"Let's just say I'll do anything to win. Anything," Justin said in the confessional. "With Anne Maria not being connected to anybody else, I think it's only natural for us to be in an alliance."
The footage seemed to pause, and the viewpoint cut back to show Chris watching the confessional feed from his control room as the music turned ominous again. "Wow," the host said. "Dude is as crafty as he is good-looking. Maybe we're related?" He laughed. "He wishes!"
The host cut the confessional feed off entirely. "Poor delusional guy could never even swim in my gene pool," he told the camera. "More importantly, tune in next time to watch more me!" He laughed again. "Aaand a few minutes of Justin...," he stood up so that his head was no longer in the shot, "on Total! Drama! Action!" He immediately walked off, saying "Which one of you geniuses left the two-way mic on?"
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
“The Hawaiian party wasn't bad at all,” Ripper confessed in the make-up trailer. “The poi was super tasty, and the chopped pineapples were fantastic. If this is how Hawaiian people live, I should probably use part of my money to move me and my family to a resort over there, though I will ignore the coconut bras for sure.”
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - 12th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie, Trent
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, MK, Ripper, Scott, Sky
submitted by xtremexavier15 to u/xtremexavier15 [link] [comments]
"Do you expect us to believe that we'll be going to the beach this time?" Sky asked.
As if on cue, a horn was honked and the shot panned over to the Boat of Losers driving up to the side of the set.
"You were saying?" Chris asked.
Confessional: Ripper
"Chris actually didn't tell us hogwash?" Ripper explained in surprise. "Who would have expected that?"
Confessional Ends
The scene cut back to the host and contestants getting on the boat. "Since the beach we're going to isn't connected to the film lot, we're traveling via boat,” Chris informed the teens. “Bet you guys feel stupid for changing out of your swimsuits now!”
“We thought you were going to put us in another studio that's as chilly as Alaska!” Anne Maria called out. “Don't blame us because we were trying to think ahead.”
"And that's what I like about you kids," Chris smirked before the boat started to take off.
The camera skipped ahead to Chris' feet as he stepped onto sand, the shot panning up. "Yes campers, we're actually back at your old stomping grounds," he announced as birds called in the background, "Total! Drama! Island!" The shot zoomed out as it usually did when the series' name was said, and the eleven teens were shown standing in their teams by two sectioned-off areas of beach.
"If you need to take a moment and reminisce about the great times you had here," Chris told them, Chef Hatchet standing at his side.
They all took a moment… to burst out laughing.
"Fine," Chris said, "we'll skip the good memories montage. Screaming Gaffers, you've got a thirty-minute head start on," a few dramatic beats were played over close-ups of the colorful plastic tools that were in the two makeshift sandboxes, "the Sand Castle Building Contest! To be judged by our resident King o' the Dunes!" A deep drumroll played as Chef placed a tall sand-colored, castle-shaped crown on his head. "Make like prop masters, guys, and give me something awesome. I really don't want the tiebreaker to have to go down."
The shot cut over to a trio of logs tied together in a pyramid shape. "I don't think legal's quite approved it yet." The camera panned down the rope, showing a large boulder suspended above a crash test dummy. The rope snapped and the dummy was crushed, then the structure itself collapsed, then a reddish-orange car – its horn, the Confederate national anthem and a '01' painted onto the roof – came flying off from the high ground behind the beach and crashed into the pile.
The footage flashed to the Gaffers. "Chase, go make the sand in that bucket!" MK commanded, sending the daredevil off running. "Ripper, pack it firmer!"
"And who got killed to make you boss?" Ripper demanded.
"In my history class, I was taught about Frank Gehry," MK explained.
“Who?” Ripper asked in confusion.
"He's one of the greatest architects of our time," MK detailed, “and the number of buildings created by him are thirty three.”
"Yeah yeah yeah," Ripper cut her off. “Continue to geek out and I may kick the sandcastle into your face. Now where's Scott?”
"He said he was gonna go get some more buckets," MK replied, annoyed by Ripper's threat.
The scene flashed over to Scott, who was holding a stack of three metal buckets as he walked through the woods towards the beach. He saw the Grips idling around their construction area for a bit but decided to carry on.
Confessional: Scott
“As much as it'll bring me joy to mess with the other team's sandcastle, I did promise to stick by MK's side and not make any big moves so that I wouldn't get eliminated,” Scott mentioned. “My old habits didn't die hard.”
Confessional Ends
"Three, two," Chris counted down, his eyes on his watch. Instead of calling out 'one', Chef blew a few notes on a trumpet. "Thank you Chef!" Chris said as the two watched over the Gaffers, all now working on a ring of five towers surrounding the central one. "Screaming Gaffers, your thirty-minute lead is over, so," he walked to the other team, "Grips, dudes, get castlin'."
"First things first!" Brick proclaimed. "We'll need water!" He and Millie grabbed buckets and took off.
"I'll get some from the mountain stream!" Anne Maria declared.
"You all know we could use the lake," Jasmine pointed out.
"Our mistake!" Millie cried as she and Brick ran back past the others.
"Quiet!" Trent yelled, forcing his team to freeze. "We need a plan, and I've got one."
Confessional: Justin
"Little Trent mans up. Wow. Even I had goosebumps,” Justin said and started looking at himself in his mirror. “And there wasn't a mirror for miles."
Confessional Ends
The scene showed Anne Maria, Justin, and Millie at work with strengthing their sand castle while Trent monitored them.
“That's right. Nine turrets, nine doors,” Trent instructed as Brick and Jasmine poured more sand. “Justin, add one more moat, so we have…”
“Nine?” Millie finished for him.
Anne Maria notices a crab crawling around. She picked it up and used her lipstick to draw their team logo onto the shell. "We can use this as a flag!" she said as she put the crab on top one of their sticks, making the crab fall out of its shell.
“Great! We just need eight more!” Trent said. “We'll need all the luck we can gather up.”
The camera flashed to show the finished result of the Gaffers’ sand castle now with red flags on top. "Now this is the Taj Ma-Kate," MK announced, "named after my real name, Mary Kate." The camera panned across the impressed faces of the Gaffers.
Meanwhile, Trent was adding more shells to the castle's six. “Dude, stop at three. Stop at five. Just, just stop!” Justin advised him as the team looked worried.
“It can't support that much weight!” Jasmine claimed, “so unless you want the castle to be demolished, don't add any more shells.”
“Alright then,” Trent sighed.
“What if we rip up some of my magazines and put them around the castle?” Anne Maria suggested.
"It's a sand castle building contest, Anne Maria," Millie rebutted.
"No, it's a prop sand castle building contest,” Anne Maria corrected. “With papers and hairspray, we could do paper mache!"
“Crafty,” Justin smirked.
“Good idea, Anne Maria,” Millie smiled in approval as the Jersey girl took out four magazines from her pockets. “Sorry I doubted you.”
“Everybody start tearing up these magazines!” Jasmine ordered as the team ripped up the magazines and put them onto the bucket that Brick was holding.
“Remember, nine of everything!” Trent added in, much to his teammates’ bother.
The footage skipped forward to show the Grips standing around their paper mache sand castle.
"I dub thee… Casa Sky!" Trent announced.
Sky and Chase were overseeing the Grips’ castle. “Did Trent just name his team's sandcastle after me?” Sky asked in astonishment.
“Correctamondo,” Chase nodded. “And why are you bothered by this so much?”
“I'm not. It's just that the castles are supposed to be team based, not relationship based,” Sky explained.
“At least he's not going all crazy over you,” Chase told her.
“Yeah. It could be a lot worse,” Sky shivered.
The shot cut to show both teams, the camera panning right and focusing in on the Gaffers as they tried to deal with a number of seagulls that had taken up residence in and around their castle.
"Get away from my castle, you stupid gulls!" MK hissed as she and the rest of her team tried and failed to scare the birds away.
Finally, the flock of gulls took off squawking – and in doing so, caused the Gaffers' castle to collapse. "This is why I hate birds!" MK griped as a cloud of sand and feathers settled to the ground.
The scene cut back to Chris and Chef. "We have a winner!" Chris announced. "Anne Maria and the Killer Grips' clever prop, Casa dos Paper Mache!"
The winning team celebrated. "You can thank me and my flawless style," Anne Maria flashed a smile.
"Which means," Chris said as the camera cut back to him, "we need a new tiebreaker!" His face fell into a scowl. "And I was hoping for the evening off. Instead," he grinned again, "gather ye some wood, campers, for a fire of the bon variety."
The scene changed to the woods, where Sky was gathering sticks up off the ground when Justin and Trent walked up to her with sticks of their own.
"Sky!" Trent called, grabbing her attention. "Hey! I feel like it's been ages since we had any uh, you know... quality time together."
"I'll give you two some privacy," Justin said and walked off.
“What do you want to talk to me about?” Sky wondered.
"I kinda want to talk to you about..." Trent began.
Sky's attention was caught by the number of sticks he carried. "Not to interrupt," she started to say, "but you're carrying nine sticks."
"Of course," Trent said casually. "It's my lucky number. Something the matter?"
"I did overhear you trying to make nine out of everything…" Sky said nervously. "We should talk later. We really need to focus on the game."
"Sky, wait up!" Trent called out, but she already ran off, leaving him confused. "What am I doing wrong?"
"I oversaw everything, so I can answer that for you," Justin said as he reentered the shot. "You're in a relationship with her, and normally, the most important thing would be to make her happy. What does she like most?"
"Sky does like winners…" Trent thought slowly.
"Exactly," Justin winked. “Do what you think is best for you and your girlfriend.” The eye candy walked away, his devious grin hidden from Trent, who smiled at an idea forming in his head.
The footage skipped ahead to night, a full moon high in the sky as the castmates and Chris stood on the beach. The host clapped his hands, and the firepit and assorted torches burst into flame.
"Why did you even make us go and collect firewood?" Brick asked angrily.
"I needed some alone time," Chris answered bluntly. "You think these hands manicure themselves?" He held out a hand towards the cadet. "Which brings us to the tiebreaking challenge!" The surf music started again. "A watusi-twist-mashed potato dorky old school dance contest!" he announced while sampling a variety of those and similar dance styles. "Teams! Choose your best boogier for battle!"
The music ended as Ripper immediately walked forward. "I'll show you all my funky moves," he said.
“I nominate Trent to step up,” Millie spoke up.
“We heard you got some fly moves,” Justin told the team leader.
“Okay, I'll do it,” Trent agreed.
The footage flashed forward to a close-up of a stereo on a table; Chris pressed a button on it and a surf rock song began to play. Trent and Ripper approached one another nearby and stood face-to-face.
"Prepare to be humiliated worse than a wet-willie," Ripper taunted.
"Bring it," Trent countered.
The two young men backed up, and began to dance. Both immediately showed themselves to be talented, Trent's swaggy styles more than matched by Ripper's more wild and funky moves.
The camera quickly panned across the Screaming Gaffers, who seemed to be impressed by their teammate.
Confessional: Scott
"That guy's moves are impressive," Scott said in the confessional. "That's as far as I'm gonna go in complimenting him after he forced me to go first in the surfing portion!"
Confessional: MK
"Funky and groovy," MK said in her own confessional. "I thought he'd bomb it, but he managed to subvert my expectations."
Confessionals End
Trent was nodding his head in different directions before facing the camera and pushing his hands forward.
“Go Trent!” Jasmine cheered.
“Don't stop now!” Anne Maria supported.
Trent looked over at Sky for a moment, who was frowning from their earlier conversation. He then started to feel conflicted.
Confessional: Trent
The thing is, if Sky wants to win, why is it unethical for me to help her? I'm Trent first and a Killer Grip second,” Trent emphasized. “Oh, can we erase that? Confession might be good for the soul. It's not so good for the teamwork.”
Confessional Ends
As Ripper did a chain wave with his arms, Trent was moonwalking in the background. The guitarist noticed a stick lying behind him, and after winking at the camera, he deliberately tripped on the stick and fell backwards.
The music stopped as the Grips stared in shock. "Dude, get up!" Justin cried.
Trent groaned in his position. "I think I have turned my ankle!"
“Seriously? And now?" Anne Maria moaned.
Trent attempted to move his body while remaining on his back, which stopped when Chris stood over him. "That's not dancing!" the older man disapproved.
"It's modern," Trent tried to explain. "It's uh... interpretive!"
"I interpret that as sucking big time," MK snarked.
"Not now, MK!" Sky shushed her. "Trent is currently distressed right now."
"That's not your problem," Chase told her. "It's his. Not to be mean or anything."
Confessional: Sky
"I like Trent," Sky told the camera in the make-up trailer, "but I can't ignore whether he's feeling unwell or not. Us being on different teams is likely the reason for his recent attitude."
Confessional Ends
"Thanks to Trent's blunder," Chris said, "Ripper and the Screaming Gaffers are the winners! And your reward...," the camera pulled out to show the entire cast, "the greatest beach party ever pitched!"
The Gaffers began to cheer, and Trent caught Sky's eye. She motioned for them to meet up a little ways away before walking off and Trent followed.
The scene changed to the woods as Sky and Trent reunited. “I know you really wanted to win,” Trent spoke first.
“And I know ankles don't immediately heal in a few seconds,” Sky said back.
“I'm weird like that,” Trent said.
“Speaking of weird, what was with that nine stuff earlier on?” Sky wondered. “I was going to talk to you about it earlier on, but we were still in a challenge.”
“If I'm being honest with you, nine is my lucky number, and I thought I'd rely on it to help us with the sand castle building contest,” Trent admitted.
“So you're superstitious?” Sky smiled at this. “You never told me this before.”
“You never asked, and I didn't think about bringing it up,” Trent continued. “Let's get back to our teams before Chris forces us too.”
“Good idea,” Sky nodded before they took off.
The footage skipped ahead, a hip-hop tune playing on the stereo as the camera panned down to the now-partying Gaffers, Sky included. A pan left took the focus to the Grips, disappointment on their faces, as they waited in a group near Chris.
"If the losing team could just follow me to the boat," Chris said before walking off down the beach, the six Grips following unhappily.
Later on, the Gaffers were watching Ripper perform two air punches to the air before performing the worm on the floor. Scott, who was feeling tired, decided to kick sand onto Ripper's face.
Ripper felt the sand and stopped dancing in order to cough. “What did you do that for?!” he demanded.
“Come on. You know I had to get you back for the surfing fiasco,” Scott said.
Confessional: Scott
“I just made history by kicking sand into the bully's face!” Scott cackled. “How's that for subverting movie stereotypes?!”
Confessional Ends
The scene switched to the area in front of the cast trailers back at the film lot as the Grips headed straight for their beds, though Justin held Anne Maria back by her shoulder.
"What is it?" Anne Maria yawned. "Can't you see I'm tired?"
"I just want to thank you for winning us the sand castle contest," Justin said to her. "Especially since I blew the surfing challenge. You really saved my bacon."
“You're welcome,” Anne Maria said. “I don't want to get booted off the show early again. You understand, right?”
“Definitely. I didn't fare much better as well, but I'm positive that this season will be your breakthrough for fame,” Justin winked at the now flattered girl.
“Anything you say, handsome,” Anne Maria laughed in her enamored state, but another yawn from her changed her mood to cranky. “I mean, we better go to sleep!”
Confessional: Justin
"Let's just say I'll do anything to win. Anything," Justin said in the confessional. "With Anne Maria not being connected to anybody else, I think it's only natural for us to be in an alliance."
The footage seemed to pause, and the viewpoint cut back to show Chris watching the confessional feed from his control room as the music turned ominous again. "Wow," the host said. "Dude is as crafty as he is good-looking. Maybe we're related?" He laughed. "He wishes!"
The host cut the confessional feed off entirely. "Poor delusional guy could never even swim in my gene pool," he told the camera. "More importantly, tune in next time to watch more me!" He laughed again. "Aaand a few minutes of Justin...," he stood up so that his head was no longer in the shot, "on Total! Drama! Action!" He immediately walked off, saying "Which one of you geniuses left the two-way mic on?"
(Roll the Credits)
(Bonus Clip)
“The Hawaiian party wasn't bad at all,” Ripper confessed in the make-up trailer. “The poi was super tasty, and the chopped pineapples were fantastic. If this is how Hawaiian people live, I should probably use part of my money to move me and my family to a resort over there, though I will ignore the coconut bras for sure.”
Eva - 14th
Geoff - 14th
Izzy - 12th
Killer Grips: Anne Maria, Brick, Jasmine, Justin, Millie, Trent
Screaming Gaffers: Chase, MK, Ripper, Scott, Sky
2024.05.06 01:01 Glass-Attempt2291 [in progress] [4683] [fantasy] Title: Embers of Antesia
First four chapters of the novel I'm working on. keep in mind this draft is very early. Please give any and all criticism and advice you can think of no matter how small. (should also mention that i am dyslexic so i apologies for any spelling or grammar mistakes Grammarly didn't catch) any way, ill stop yapping now, here it is:
CHAPTER ONE The cold winds raged as the small force of a few dozen men traveled north, the snow in front of them illuminated only by the silver glow of the moon. In the lead was a young man on horseback. Barely 19, every other man there was by far his superior in age. Yet he led them, not because of his military record or his skill in battle, but because he had been personally selected to lead this force by their lord, the lord of Diduna, and the young man's father. "Cadam!" a soldier from the back shouted. The young man turned his horse around. "Our scouts have identified the encampment, it was just south of the Bonlin forest," the soldier informed him. "Good, but tell the men we did not step into the forest itself," Cadam replied. "You still believe the stories?" the soldier chuckled. "I would rather be a fool for believing them, than a fool for not," the Soldier stopped chuckling. "Very well, but we should make camp here for the night and move out in the morning," Cadam nodded to him. The men set up near a small rock formation. A group of four men huddled over a small fire they had started. As they huddled, they began to talk about the upcoming attack and about the one who would lead it. "Nineteen!" one man exclaimed. "A nineteen-year-old leading us into battle, the boy is barely out of the womb!" "Has Ganjo lost his mind?" another asked. "I suppose he wants his son to gain experience in battle," one tried to reason. "Well, I would rather not be a pawn in the child's first chess game! The emporer would never have alowed this" as he exclaimed this, the other men noticed a figure looming over them. "Do you wish for every man in all of Antesia to know we were here?" he said as he kicked a thick pile of snow onto the fire, smothering it. "I'm sorry, my lord, we were just cold, that's all," the first man said. "You have hides, if it is too uncomfortable out here, then maybe you should have stayed in the city, I hear there is an opening for a dung shoveler at the stables” one of the men started snickering but stopped immediately upon a glare from his friend. Cadam gave the men one last look before returning to his tent. In the morning, the men packed up camp and began to march north. By midday, they saw something on the horizon. Cadam ordered his men to stop; he took a messenger and approached the encampment himself. As he approached the front gate, he stopped and turned to his messenger. "Approach their encampment and deliver to their leader a challenge to single combat," the messenger nodded and began towards the front of the encampment with his arms raised. A few moments later, the gates opened, and a single person rode out on horseback. The armor they wore was clearly scavenged, what may have once been noble and quality gear was now tattered and worn away by many years and many battles, except for the helmet which was evidently new and of somewhat quality make. It was very similar to Cadam's own helmet, covering most of the head and face. As they approached, Cadam thought something was off about their face, his suspicions were confirmed when the stranger spoke. "You have challenged me to single combat," the stranger said in what was unmistakably the voice of a woman. "No, I challenged the leader of this encampment," Cadam responded. "You are looking at her." "I won't fight a woman." "Okay then, don't" she said as she reached for her belt and threw three knives in Cadam's direction, the first two missed but the third implanted itself in Cadam's thigh. He fell off his horse and clutched the knife. As he tried to pull out the blade, the woman unsheathed her sword and dismounted her horse. Before he had time to remove the knife from his leg, her sword came crashing down towards his head. He managed to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding death. She readied her sword for another strike. He drew his own blade, managing to parry her attack at the last second. With a sweep to the leg, he knocked her to the ground, kicking away her blade and pointing his at her throat. "You cheated" he remarked. "This wasn't one of your fancy duelling lessons. Prince-boy." She said the word "prince" with more disgust than Cadam had ever heard someone say a word. He discarded her weapon and called to one of his men. "Tie her up along with any other prisoners we capture," Then he addressed the rest of his force. "As for the rest of you, you may keep whatever loot you find, Attack!" CHAPTER TWO The men reacted to this command with enthusiasm Cadam had not seen since they departed. The men rushed towards the encampment like a pack of starving wolves who just discovered a wounded deer. Cadam finally removed the knife from his leg and dropped it to the ground. He remounted his horse and hurried to the encampment before his men stole all the action. Being on horseback, catching up with his men proved no difficulty. Cadam charged at the head of his force, stopping at the front gate. a few of the men carried over a rudimentary battering ram made from the trunk of a tree. Cadam dismounts and readies himself for the ensuing battle. The gate crumbles after the fourth hit from the ram, upon its collapse Cadam leads his troops, charging into the enemy line. A battle is a significantly different beast compared to a duel. Cadam had spent most of his days as a child training in the art of the duel with some of the greatest instructors Antesia had to offer, including his father. He was well prepared for nearly any one on one encounter with an enemy, but there was nothing that could prepare him for a real battle, a battle between two groups of men with every intention of tearing one another into pieces and showing no mercy. Cadam was scared. He had spent weeks marching through snow on the way here, and he spent his entire life dreaming of his first battle. Yet, he was scared. Cadam stumbled, falling behind the rest of his men as they charged head first into the enemy. He watched as they furiously battled, the sound of steel clashing was deafening. Cadam knew he couldn't let his men see him like this so he held up his sword and forced his legs to walk him into the fray of conflict. Looking for an opponent he could take by surprise, he saw one of his men on the ground seconds from death as a yellow robe fighter went in for the kill. Cadam rushed the Fighter, plunging his blade deep into the man's side, killing him. He then turned to the soldier who lay on the ground and offered him a hand, it was he then noticed it was one of the men from the campfire a few nights ago. Cadam helped him up and they both returned to battle. Eventually the Yellow robes were defeated, there was only a small number who did not fight to the death and chose to surrender instead. Cadam addressed his men and told them they may take whatever you can find but to leave the prisoners alive. The soldiers reacted very positively to this and ransacked the encampment for anything they could find. Once the pillaging was complete Cadam organised his soldiers and gathered the prisoners who he would bring with him for the return to his fathers city. By the time they were organised and ready to leave, night had crept in so they decided to rest for the night and set out in the morning. Cadam sat around a campfire talking and drinking with the soldiers, the mood was Ecstatic in the wake of their victory. Cadam had finally gained the respect and appreciation of those around him, although he did not feel as though it was earned. Each man was so focused on himself and the battle that none had noticed their leader freeze and fail to exhibit courage and leadership. All they knew was that he led them to success and even saved one of them during the fighting. As if in answer to Cadams thoughts, the very man he had saved during the conflict hurried up to the campfire. But the expression on his face was not one of gratitude but one of great concern. "sir, there's a problem" he stumbled over his words barely managing to get them out of his mouth. Cadam immediately arose from the spot he had been sitting at, discarding his thoughts and resuming the stoicism his men knew him for. "hold on now, what's your name soldier" "N-N-Neeman, sir" "Alright Neeman, now what is the issue?" "My friends i can't find them" "These are the men you were at the campfire with?" Cadam inquired. "yes sir" Cadam let out a sigh and put a hand on Neemans shoulder "Listen, war is dangerous. I'm afraid your frei-" Neeman cut him off before he could finish his sentence "No, they didn't die in the battle, i was with them after" Cadam removed his hand from Neemans shoulder visibly annoyed "You should know better than to interrupt your superior" Cadam said with a disapproving glare" "I'm sorry sir, it's just... I'm very worried. " " Why? how do you know they have not just gone for a piss" Suddenly Neeman diverted his eyes from Cadams, avoiding eye contact as though it were the plague "Because... Because they went into the Bonlin Forest" at the mention of the forest the chatter around the campfire immediately ceased, all eyes now fixed intensively upon Neeman and Cadam. "Follow me" Cadam muttered as he walked away from the prying eyes. Once they were out of earshot Cadam turned to Neeman with a look of anger on his face "Can you fools not follow the single order i give you?" "I-I'm sorry sir i told them not to but-" "When did they leave?" "earlier in the night, only an hour or so ago" "show me where they went" Neeman lead Cadam around the back of the ruined encampment careful to avoid the eyes of any soldiers who may think it a good idea to follow Neeman stopped 30 or so feet from the forest. The pine trees stretched high with leaves like those of daggers settled at the top. This would have given a good view into the forest given the relative lack of foliage in the lower half of the trees but there was an unnatural darkness within the forest, a darkness not even the moon could illuminate. But it was not only Cadams eyes that told him not to go any closer, there was a chill he could feel, radiating from inside the forest. This was not like the chill provided by the snow that covered everything outside the forest. This was not a chill felt on the skin or any other part of the material body. This was a chill felt deep within the soul, a chill that could only have a single source. "you feel it dont you" Neeman said as he turned to Cadam "There is a great evil within this forest" Cadam replied, not looking away from the darkness cloaked in trees. "Your friends are dead" Neeman did not contest this claim for he knew it to be true. Death seeped from every inch of the forest, they both knew instinctively that there was not a single living being past the point where the first trees grew. "I'm sorry Neeman" Cadam said to Neeman as he turned his back on the forest. "We should head back to camp, we have a long journey to start in the morning" Neeman replied. As they walked back towards their camp Cadam had a deep uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He was being watched. And whatever was watching him, was looking at him from the forest.
Chapter 3 The following morning as everyone was packing up getting ready to leave a soldier came running up to Cadam "Sir, some of the men decided to go for another look around the encampment to see if we missed anything last night, and boy did we!" Cadam had hardly slept last night due to his thoughts resting on his performance in the battle from the previous day and the forest. Due to his tiredness Cadam was not in the mood for any nonsense "just throw whatever you found in with the rest of the stuff and have someone carry it" "you misunderstand me sir, that won't work" and why not?" Cadam asked this with a tone suggesting annoyance, the soldier either did not notice or did not care about Cadams mood for he continued in the same upbeat tone "follow me sir, this isn't something i can carry and present you with!" reluctantly Cadam followed the soldier and to his surprise he did not see some piece of armour or a valuable relic, instead a wagon sat in front of him. "how did you guys miss this when searching the place last night?". The soldier made a drinking motion. "alright then, get two horses and throw some of the loot in the back" "what about the prisoners?" Cadam had completely forgotten about the prisoners taken during the battle. "how many are there?" Cadam asked "ten, eleven including their leader you defeated" the soldier replied "alright, spread the prisoners out so they cannot conspire amongst themselves, put their lead in the wagon and make sure her hands are bound securely. She strikes me as someone i will need to keep an eye on" the soldier nodded and left to complete this task. It would take a few hours for the group to be packed and ready to go, with Cadam sitting in the wagon that also contained a majority of the loot and the yellow robes leader, as ordered her hands were bound very securely to prevent any stealing or escape attempt. Cadam climbed aboard the wagon once they were ready to depart "Follow the Nahilri minor downstream until we meet with the main river" he commanded. As they started to move, Cadam turned around to face the woman in the back of the wagon, his face adorned with a confident smirk "you nearly killed me, feel like i should know your name" he asked. "Nima" she responded without looking at him. "Well Nima, how is it that a woman becomes the leader of a yellow robe encampment?" she scoffed at Cadam before answering him "i earned my position, i didn't get it handed to me by way of my birth. bastards like you are what's wrong with Antesia, and what we are fighting to fix" The accusation of nepotism visibly shocked and offended Cadam. His smirk immediately faded to be replaced with a cold stare as it took all Cadams composure to conceal his anger at her remarks. He turned away from her and focused instead on the roads ahead of them Now it was Nima's turn to smirk They wouldn't speak again until night fell and they had to stop for rest. Neeman volunteered to take first guard of the prisoners but Cadam dismissed him "you should get some rest Neeman, I'll guard them" Knowing better than to argue, Neeman relented and went to bed. Cadam sat next to Nima "You know, the world isn't as black and white as you think" "Oh please, enlighten me" she said sarcastically "My father wants to better Antesia as well, just like you do" "And I suppose that requires him to control it as well?" Cadam did not answer, she continued "What is it YOU fight for? Do you want to conquer Antesia for your father? Do you fight to install your family on the imperial throne? You lead an attack on our encampment but do you even know who you fight?" Cadam looked away from her, unsure how to answer "I-I- I don't know" Nima was surprised by this answer, she expected him to act defensively and combat her claims "Well, I hope you figure it out. She turned to look him in the eye "And I hope you figure it out soon, before all of Antesia in engulfed in flames" Once again Cadam had no answer, they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Cadam regained his composure and his display of confidence. "you asked me why I fight, why is it you fight?" "I wasn't born in a castle, or a palace" she chuckled "Or even a damn shack. I was born in the middle of nowhere, born to parents who died soon after my birth. The emperor never cared about people like me, we were not important enough. Just irrelevant peasants who were never worth a second thought. When he died and the yellow robes were created it was my chance to do something about it, to help people and to be more than a worthless lowborn. I fight to try and make Antesia a better place, one free of out of touch rulers who only rule because of their status. That is why I fight, to do what I can to improve the world, and I would die for my cause. Would you die for yours?" Chapter 4 The small force would be on the road for many days, they followed the Nahilri minor south until it joined with the main river. In total it was a little over a month before they reached their destination, this was due mainly to the weather. You see during winter the northern reaches of Antesia were often hit with heavy snow and sometimes blizzard-like conditions. This winter was no different, despite the winter season nearing its end and the dawn of spring the snow would not let up for several weeks to come. This meant that for most of the journey, all that they could see was an endless sea of white. So it was a great relief when they finally saw it. At first, they only saw a bright light shining over the horizon, and as they drew closer the small light morphed into what seemed like a bright ball of glowing radiance illuminating the night sky, Diduna. After so long on the road Cadam was relieved to finally see his father's capital. "When you see the city you'll change your mind about wanting to lead an encampment in the middle of nowhere" he said to Nima "I'm a prisoner, not a guest" After having spent so long travelling together Cadam had almost forgotten the reason he even left the city. "Don't worry I'll put in a good word for you, I know the guy who runs this place. You'll get out in a month or two" for what may have been the first time since they met Nima smiled. "Alright then, you better give me the grand tour" Their conversation was cut short as they reached the front gate. There stood two men guarding either side of the entrance. Both were significantly better equipped than any of Cadams men. They wore silver plate mail with a crest engraved into the chest piece, it depicted a snake and wolf fighting with an eagle swooping from above. At first, Cadam had not noticed him but next to one of the men stood an old man, he was dressed in fine silk robes and had a long white smooth beard. "you have returned," the man said addressing Cadam "Yes, Father I succeeded in the mission you gave me" When Cadam said this his manner changed instantly, he spoke not like he was addressing a friend or relative but like he was addressing his superior, his face became cold and emotionless and his tone completely neutral. "Good, these men will take the loot and prisoners into the city, come with me" Cadam immediately dismounted the wagon and followed his father inside the city "you did well son. I have arranged to throw a feast in honour of our victory, hopefully, the first of many" Ganjo led Cadam into the great hall. Its roof climbed high into the sky and its walls stretched as far as the eye could see, the ceiling was held up with eight great arches on either side of the hall. Massive tables adorned the floors nearly as long as the hall itself. It appears that nobody thought to wait for Cadams arrival before starting the celebration being held in his honour. "Enjoy yourself Cadam" Before Cadam could turn around to answer, Ganjo had already left. Cadam took a seat at one of the tables but before he could grab anything to eat, he felt the bench he sat on sink, to his right now sat a massive man, in both height and width. The man was nearly a foot taller than Cadam, he had long orange hair and a massive bushy beard to match. And unsurprisingly to Cadam, he had a leg of meat in either hand. "Good to have ya back, and even better they're are throwing you this feast!" The man said addressing Cadam "It's been a while, how have you been Grassio?" "Been pretty boring with you off doing whatever it was you were doing, the others aren't half as much fun" "where are they?" Cadam asked "uuuuhhhhhhhh" Grassio said as he surveyed the hall "ah!" he said as he raised his hand in a beckoning motion "over here, found 'im" As Grassio said this two others took notice and began towards them A man with short dirty blond hair sat to Cadams left, and a woman wearing a dark cloak with equally black hair sat opposite Grassio "Haha, knew it'd take more than a couple of yellow robes to take out the mighty Cadam of Diduna" the man to Cadams joked as he put his hand on Cadams shoulder "Good to see the possibility of war on our doorstep hasn't dampened your mood, ey Bogen" Cadam responded, matching his joking manner "I see Grassio wasted no time stuffing his face." Remarked the woman "Come on, my love! you know the war machine needs its fuel!" Grassio replied through mouthfuls of food She rolled her eyes at him "I see nothing has changed since I left" Cadam laughed "Nah, old Adga here has hardly let me eat a thing!" Grassio said as he finished his second leg "So tell us, lad, how was your little expedition?" asked Bogen Cadam spent the next few hours filling them in, on the battle but more importantly his conversations with Nima on the ride back to Diduna. He decided it best to leave out mention of his performance during the battle and of the events around the Bonlin forest. A few hours into the celebration their chatter was interrupted by a soldier approaching Cadam. "Cadam, your father has requested your immediate presence" "Alright, I'll be with him in a min-" the soldier interrupted Cadam before he could finish his sentence "Immediate," He said far more sternly this time Cadam conceded and followed the soldier away from the party "Don't wait for me" Cadam called back to the others at the table "I wouldn't dream of it!" Grassio called back as he bit into another leg of meat The soldier led Cadam out of the feast hall and through the streets of Diduna. The sky was pitch black, there was nobody on the streets and the only sound that could be heard was the faint celebrations from the feast hall. The soldier led Cadam up to the northmost area of Diduna, this is where the richest citizens and most important buildings were located. But all of them were dwarfed by the great palace of Diduna. It Was made of glowing white bricks and was by far the largest building in the city, in both area and height. It had four great spires on each of its corners, these spires each stretched so high into the sky they looked as though they may piece it, but there was one final feature of the palace that dwarfed even these spires. Protruding from the centre of the palace was a single tower, nearly twice the size of the four spires. Apart from the sheer height one of the other noticeable features of the tower was the golden engraving of a tree, the branches of this tree wrapped around the entire tower and upon each branch was a name. This tree showed the line of Didunas ruler from its founder down to Lord Ganjo, and next to Ganjos name, there was a space reserved for Didunas next ruler - Cadam. At the highest reach of the tower, there roared a great flame, this was the flame of Diduna. Its glow burned through the night's blanket illuminating the entire palace. Ganjo stood in front of the palace. "leave us" he commanded the guard The guard did as he was told and left Cadam to talk with his father. Ganjo turned and walked inside the palace, with Cadam following close behind. They walked in silence to the top of the tower, stopping once they stood next to the great flame. Ganjo looked out over Diduna from the tower. Without turning around to face him, Ganjo addressed his son "We live in an incredibly unique time, son. The emperor's death has turned Antesia into a land filled with chaos, but also one ripe with opportunity. This is not the first time an employer has died without an heir, but it is the first in more than a thousand years that there are no living members of the imperial family. My son, we are living in the most pivotal moment of Antesian history since the great catastrophe." He turned to look at Cadam "war is brewing, winter has given reason for peace among the lords but now that spring approaches, every single lord will wish to claim the imperial throne. Do you remeber General Karft? The late emperor's greatest general." "Uh, yeah I think so" Cadam responded "He has taken control of the imperial city and most of the southern lands with it, he has spent the winter fighting back these yellow robe peasants and I suspect he shall soon move to subdue larger targets. You have proven yourself with your recent mission against the Yellow Robe camp north of here, I am going to send you on a diplomatic mission to Lord Mufid at Fort Zamok, you spent a summer there as a child." "yes, I remember," Cadam said accidentally interrupting Ganjo, he was met with a glare before Ganjo returned to speaking. "I will need to you persuade Mufid to join me against Karft, it will be difficult as he prefers to keep to himself, but I trust you will remind him of the urgency of this situation. One final note, the prisoners you captured will be executed tomorrow morning, publicly. It is necessary to remind the public how we deal with rebels" Cadam was taken aback by this news and attempted to argue "But father, are you sure that is best? One of them is a woman, what would people think of you executing a woman" Ganjo raised an eyebrow in response to Cadam's outburst. "Has spending time on the frozen roads made you forget your place boy? My word is final, I thought you knew better than to speak back. Remember to hold your tongue unless you want to end up like these prisoners you love so much" And with that Ganjo left Cadam alone in the tower, to sit with the revelation that by sunrise, Nima's fate would be sealed, and she would be executed. And it was there, for the first time in his life, Cadam decided to disobey his father.
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CHAPTER ONE The cold winds raged as the small force of a few dozen men traveled north, the snow in front of them illuminated only by the silver glow of the moon. In the lead was a young man on horseback. Barely 19, every other man there was by far his superior in age. Yet he led them, not because of his military record or his skill in battle, but because he had been personally selected to lead this force by their lord, the lord of Diduna, and the young man's father. "Cadam!" a soldier from the back shouted. The young man turned his horse around. "Our scouts have identified the encampment, it was just south of the Bonlin forest," the soldier informed him. "Good, but tell the men we did not step into the forest itself," Cadam replied. "You still believe the stories?" the soldier chuckled. "I would rather be a fool for believing them, than a fool for not," the Soldier stopped chuckling. "Very well, but we should make camp here for the night and move out in the morning," Cadam nodded to him. The men set up near a small rock formation. A group of four men huddled over a small fire they had started. As they huddled, they began to talk about the upcoming attack and about the one who would lead it. "Nineteen!" one man exclaimed. "A nineteen-year-old leading us into battle, the boy is barely out of the womb!" "Has Ganjo lost his mind?" another asked. "I suppose he wants his son to gain experience in battle," one tried to reason. "Well, I would rather not be a pawn in the child's first chess game! The emporer would never have alowed this" as he exclaimed this, the other men noticed a figure looming over them. "Do you wish for every man in all of Antesia to know we were here?" he said as he kicked a thick pile of snow onto the fire, smothering it. "I'm sorry, my lord, we were just cold, that's all," the first man said. "You have hides, if it is too uncomfortable out here, then maybe you should have stayed in the city, I hear there is an opening for a dung shoveler at the stables” one of the men started snickering but stopped immediately upon a glare from his friend. Cadam gave the men one last look before returning to his tent. In the morning, the men packed up camp and began to march north. By midday, they saw something on the horizon. Cadam ordered his men to stop; he took a messenger and approached the encampment himself. As he approached the front gate, he stopped and turned to his messenger. "Approach their encampment and deliver to their leader a challenge to single combat," the messenger nodded and began towards the front of the encampment with his arms raised. A few moments later, the gates opened, and a single person rode out on horseback. The armor they wore was clearly scavenged, what may have once been noble and quality gear was now tattered and worn away by many years and many battles, except for the helmet which was evidently new and of somewhat quality make. It was very similar to Cadam's own helmet, covering most of the head and face. As they approached, Cadam thought something was off about their face, his suspicions were confirmed when the stranger spoke. "You have challenged me to single combat," the stranger said in what was unmistakably the voice of a woman. "No, I challenged the leader of this encampment," Cadam responded. "You are looking at her." "I won't fight a woman." "Okay then, don't" she said as she reached for her belt and threw three knives in Cadam's direction, the first two missed but the third implanted itself in Cadam's thigh. He fell off his horse and clutched the knife. As he tried to pull out the blade, the woman unsheathed her sword and dismounted her horse. Before he had time to remove the knife from his leg, her sword came crashing down towards his head. He managed to roll to the side, narrowly avoiding death. She readied her sword for another strike. He drew his own blade, managing to parry her attack at the last second. With a sweep to the leg, he knocked her to the ground, kicking away her blade and pointing his at her throat. "You cheated" he remarked. "This wasn't one of your fancy duelling lessons. Prince-boy." She said the word "prince" with more disgust than Cadam had ever heard someone say a word. He discarded her weapon and called to one of his men. "Tie her up along with any other prisoners we capture," Then he addressed the rest of his force. "As for the rest of you, you may keep whatever loot you find, Attack!" CHAPTER TWO The men reacted to this command with enthusiasm Cadam had not seen since they departed. The men rushed towards the encampment like a pack of starving wolves who just discovered a wounded deer. Cadam finally removed the knife from his leg and dropped it to the ground. He remounted his horse and hurried to the encampment before his men stole all the action. Being on horseback, catching up with his men proved no difficulty. Cadam charged at the head of his force, stopping at the front gate. a few of the men carried over a rudimentary battering ram made from the trunk of a tree. Cadam dismounts and readies himself for the ensuing battle. The gate crumbles after the fourth hit from the ram, upon its collapse Cadam leads his troops, charging into the enemy line. A battle is a significantly different beast compared to a duel. Cadam had spent most of his days as a child training in the art of the duel with some of the greatest instructors Antesia had to offer, including his father. He was well prepared for nearly any one on one encounter with an enemy, but there was nothing that could prepare him for a real battle, a battle between two groups of men with every intention of tearing one another into pieces and showing no mercy. Cadam was scared. He had spent weeks marching through snow on the way here, and he spent his entire life dreaming of his first battle. Yet, he was scared. Cadam stumbled, falling behind the rest of his men as they charged head first into the enemy. He watched as they furiously battled, the sound of steel clashing was deafening. Cadam knew he couldn't let his men see him like this so he held up his sword and forced his legs to walk him into the fray of conflict. Looking for an opponent he could take by surprise, he saw one of his men on the ground seconds from death as a yellow robe fighter went in for the kill. Cadam rushed the Fighter, plunging his blade deep into the man's side, killing him. He then turned to the soldier who lay on the ground and offered him a hand, it was he then noticed it was one of the men from the campfire a few nights ago. Cadam helped him up and they both returned to battle. Eventually the Yellow robes were defeated, there was only a small number who did not fight to the death and chose to surrender instead. Cadam addressed his men and told them they may take whatever you can find but to leave the prisoners alive. The soldiers reacted very positively to this and ransacked the encampment for anything they could find. Once the pillaging was complete Cadam organised his soldiers and gathered the prisoners who he would bring with him for the return to his fathers city. By the time they were organised and ready to leave, night had crept in so they decided to rest for the night and set out in the morning. Cadam sat around a campfire talking and drinking with the soldiers, the mood was Ecstatic in the wake of their victory. Cadam had finally gained the respect and appreciation of those around him, although he did not feel as though it was earned. Each man was so focused on himself and the battle that none had noticed their leader freeze and fail to exhibit courage and leadership. All they knew was that he led them to success and even saved one of them during the fighting. As if in answer to Cadams thoughts, the very man he had saved during the conflict hurried up to the campfire. But the expression on his face was not one of gratitude but one of great concern. "sir, there's a problem" he stumbled over his words barely managing to get them out of his mouth. Cadam immediately arose from the spot he had been sitting at, discarding his thoughts and resuming the stoicism his men knew him for. "hold on now, what's your name soldier" "N-N-Neeman, sir" "Alright Neeman, now what is the issue?" "My friends i can't find them" "These are the men you were at the campfire with?" Cadam inquired. "yes sir" Cadam let out a sigh and put a hand on Neemans shoulder "Listen, war is dangerous. I'm afraid your frei-" Neeman cut him off before he could finish his sentence "No, they didn't die in the battle, i was with them after" Cadam removed his hand from Neemans shoulder visibly annoyed "You should know better than to interrupt your superior" Cadam said with a disapproving glare" "I'm sorry sir, it's just... I'm very worried. " " Why? how do you know they have not just gone for a piss" Suddenly Neeman diverted his eyes from Cadams, avoiding eye contact as though it were the plague "Because... Because they went into the Bonlin Forest" at the mention of the forest the chatter around the campfire immediately ceased, all eyes now fixed intensively upon Neeman and Cadam. "Follow me" Cadam muttered as he walked away from the prying eyes. Once they were out of earshot Cadam turned to Neeman with a look of anger on his face "Can you fools not follow the single order i give you?" "I-I'm sorry sir i told them not to but-" "When did they leave?" "earlier in the night, only an hour or so ago" "show me where they went" Neeman lead Cadam around the back of the ruined encampment careful to avoid the eyes of any soldiers who may think it a good idea to follow Neeman stopped 30 or so feet from the forest. The pine trees stretched high with leaves like those of daggers settled at the top. This would have given a good view into the forest given the relative lack of foliage in the lower half of the trees but there was an unnatural darkness within the forest, a darkness not even the moon could illuminate. But it was not only Cadams eyes that told him not to go any closer, there was a chill he could feel, radiating from inside the forest. This was not like the chill provided by the snow that covered everything outside the forest. This was not a chill felt on the skin or any other part of the material body. This was a chill felt deep within the soul, a chill that could only have a single source. "you feel it dont you" Neeman said as he turned to Cadam "There is a great evil within this forest" Cadam replied, not looking away from the darkness cloaked in trees. "Your friends are dead" Neeman did not contest this claim for he knew it to be true. Death seeped from every inch of the forest, they both knew instinctively that there was not a single living being past the point where the first trees grew. "I'm sorry Neeman" Cadam said to Neeman as he turned his back on the forest. "We should head back to camp, we have a long journey to start in the morning" Neeman replied. As they walked back towards their camp Cadam had a deep uncomfortable feeling in his gut. He was being watched. And whatever was watching him, was looking at him from the forest.
Chapter 3 The following morning as everyone was packing up getting ready to leave a soldier came running up to Cadam "Sir, some of the men decided to go for another look around the encampment to see if we missed anything last night, and boy did we!" Cadam had hardly slept last night due to his thoughts resting on his performance in the battle from the previous day and the forest. Due to his tiredness Cadam was not in the mood for any nonsense "just throw whatever you found in with the rest of the stuff and have someone carry it" "you misunderstand me sir, that won't work" and why not?" Cadam asked this with a tone suggesting annoyance, the soldier either did not notice or did not care about Cadams mood for he continued in the same upbeat tone "follow me sir, this isn't something i can carry and present you with!" reluctantly Cadam followed the soldier and to his surprise he did not see some piece of armour or a valuable relic, instead a wagon sat in front of him. "how did you guys miss this when searching the place last night?". The soldier made a drinking motion. "alright then, get two horses and throw some of the loot in the back" "what about the prisoners?" Cadam had completely forgotten about the prisoners taken during the battle. "how many are there?" Cadam asked "ten, eleven including their leader you defeated" the soldier replied "alright, spread the prisoners out so they cannot conspire amongst themselves, put their lead in the wagon and make sure her hands are bound securely. She strikes me as someone i will need to keep an eye on" the soldier nodded and left to complete this task. It would take a few hours for the group to be packed and ready to go, with Cadam sitting in the wagon that also contained a majority of the loot and the yellow robes leader, as ordered her hands were bound very securely to prevent any stealing or escape attempt. Cadam climbed aboard the wagon once they were ready to depart "Follow the Nahilri minor downstream until we meet with the main river" he commanded. As they started to move, Cadam turned around to face the woman in the back of the wagon, his face adorned with a confident smirk "you nearly killed me, feel like i should know your name" he asked. "Nima" she responded without looking at him. "Well Nima, how is it that a woman becomes the leader of a yellow robe encampment?" she scoffed at Cadam before answering him "i earned my position, i didn't get it handed to me by way of my birth. bastards like you are what's wrong with Antesia, and what we are fighting to fix" The accusation of nepotism visibly shocked and offended Cadam. His smirk immediately faded to be replaced with a cold stare as it took all Cadams composure to conceal his anger at her remarks. He turned away from her and focused instead on the roads ahead of them Now it was Nima's turn to smirk They wouldn't speak again until night fell and they had to stop for rest. Neeman volunteered to take first guard of the prisoners but Cadam dismissed him "you should get some rest Neeman, I'll guard them" Knowing better than to argue, Neeman relented and went to bed. Cadam sat next to Nima "You know, the world isn't as black and white as you think" "Oh please, enlighten me" she said sarcastically "My father wants to better Antesia as well, just like you do" "And I suppose that requires him to control it as well?" Cadam did not answer, she continued "What is it YOU fight for? Do you want to conquer Antesia for your father? Do you fight to install your family on the imperial throne? You lead an attack on our encampment but do you even know who you fight?" Cadam looked away from her, unsure how to answer "I-I- I don't know" Nima was surprised by this answer, she expected him to act defensively and combat her claims "Well, I hope you figure it out. She turned to look him in the eye "And I hope you figure it out soon, before all of Antesia in engulfed in flames" Once again Cadam had no answer, they sat there in silence for a few minutes before Cadam regained his composure and his display of confidence. "you asked me why I fight, why is it you fight?" "I wasn't born in a castle, or a palace" she chuckled "Or even a damn shack. I was born in the middle of nowhere, born to parents who died soon after my birth. The emperor never cared about people like me, we were not important enough. Just irrelevant peasants who were never worth a second thought. When he died and the yellow robes were created it was my chance to do something about it, to help people and to be more than a worthless lowborn. I fight to try and make Antesia a better place, one free of out of touch rulers who only rule because of their status. That is why I fight, to do what I can to improve the world, and I would die for my cause. Would you die for yours?" Chapter 4 The small force would be on the road for many days, they followed the Nahilri minor south until it joined with the main river. In total it was a little over a month before they reached their destination, this was due mainly to the weather. You see during winter the northern reaches of Antesia were often hit with heavy snow and sometimes blizzard-like conditions. This winter was no different, despite the winter season nearing its end and the dawn of spring the snow would not let up for several weeks to come. This meant that for most of the journey, all that they could see was an endless sea of white. So it was a great relief when they finally saw it. At first, they only saw a bright light shining over the horizon, and as they drew closer the small light morphed into what seemed like a bright ball of glowing radiance illuminating the night sky, Diduna. After so long on the road Cadam was relieved to finally see his father's capital. "When you see the city you'll change your mind about wanting to lead an encampment in the middle of nowhere" he said to Nima "I'm a prisoner, not a guest" After having spent so long travelling together Cadam had almost forgotten the reason he even left the city. "Don't worry I'll put in a good word for you, I know the guy who runs this place. You'll get out in a month or two" for what may have been the first time since they met Nima smiled. "Alright then, you better give me the grand tour" Their conversation was cut short as they reached the front gate. There stood two men guarding either side of the entrance. Both were significantly better equipped than any of Cadams men. They wore silver plate mail with a crest engraved into the chest piece, it depicted a snake and wolf fighting with an eagle swooping from above. At first, Cadam had not noticed him but next to one of the men stood an old man, he was dressed in fine silk robes and had a long white smooth beard. "you have returned," the man said addressing Cadam "Yes, Father I succeeded in the mission you gave me" When Cadam said this his manner changed instantly, he spoke not like he was addressing a friend or relative but like he was addressing his superior, his face became cold and emotionless and his tone completely neutral. "Good, these men will take the loot and prisoners into the city, come with me" Cadam immediately dismounted the wagon and followed his father inside the city "you did well son. I have arranged to throw a feast in honour of our victory, hopefully, the first of many" Ganjo led Cadam into the great hall. Its roof climbed high into the sky and its walls stretched as far as the eye could see, the ceiling was held up with eight great arches on either side of the hall. Massive tables adorned the floors nearly as long as the hall itself. It appears that nobody thought to wait for Cadams arrival before starting the celebration being held in his honour. "Enjoy yourself Cadam" Before Cadam could turn around to answer, Ganjo had already left. Cadam took a seat at one of the tables but before he could grab anything to eat, he felt the bench he sat on sink, to his right now sat a massive man, in both height and width. The man was nearly a foot taller than Cadam, he had long orange hair and a massive bushy beard to match. And unsurprisingly to Cadam, he had a leg of meat in either hand. "Good to have ya back, and even better they're are throwing you this feast!" The man said addressing Cadam "It's been a while, how have you been Grassio?" "Been pretty boring with you off doing whatever it was you were doing, the others aren't half as much fun" "where are they?" Cadam asked "uuuuhhhhhhhh" Grassio said as he surveyed the hall "ah!" he said as he raised his hand in a beckoning motion "over here, found 'im" As Grassio said this two others took notice and began towards them A man with short dirty blond hair sat to Cadams left, and a woman wearing a dark cloak with equally black hair sat opposite Grassio "Haha, knew it'd take more than a couple of yellow robes to take out the mighty Cadam of Diduna" the man to Cadams joked as he put his hand on Cadams shoulder "Good to see the possibility of war on our doorstep hasn't dampened your mood, ey Bogen" Cadam responded, matching his joking manner "I see Grassio wasted no time stuffing his face." Remarked the woman "Come on, my love! you know the war machine needs its fuel!" Grassio replied through mouthfuls of food She rolled her eyes at him "I see nothing has changed since I left" Cadam laughed "Nah, old Adga here has hardly let me eat a thing!" Grassio said as he finished his second leg "So tell us, lad, how was your little expedition?" asked Bogen Cadam spent the next few hours filling them in, on the battle but more importantly his conversations with Nima on the ride back to Diduna. He decided it best to leave out mention of his performance during the battle and of the events around the Bonlin forest. A few hours into the celebration their chatter was interrupted by a soldier approaching Cadam. "Cadam, your father has requested your immediate presence" "Alright, I'll be with him in a min-" the soldier interrupted Cadam before he could finish his sentence "Immediate," He said far more sternly this time Cadam conceded and followed the soldier away from the party "Don't wait for me" Cadam called back to the others at the table "I wouldn't dream of it!" Grassio called back as he bit into another leg of meat The soldier led Cadam out of the feast hall and through the streets of Diduna. The sky was pitch black, there was nobody on the streets and the only sound that could be heard was the faint celebrations from the feast hall. The soldier led Cadam up to the northmost area of Diduna, this is where the richest citizens and most important buildings were located. But all of them were dwarfed by the great palace of Diduna. It Was made of glowing white bricks and was by far the largest building in the city, in both area and height. It had four great spires on each of its corners, these spires each stretched so high into the sky they looked as though they may piece it, but there was one final feature of the palace that dwarfed even these spires. Protruding from the centre of the palace was a single tower, nearly twice the size of the four spires. Apart from the sheer height one of the other noticeable features of the tower was the golden engraving of a tree, the branches of this tree wrapped around the entire tower and upon each branch was a name. This tree showed the line of Didunas ruler from its founder down to Lord Ganjo, and next to Ganjos name, there was a space reserved for Didunas next ruler - Cadam. At the highest reach of the tower, there roared a great flame, this was the flame of Diduna. Its glow burned through the night's blanket illuminating the entire palace. Ganjo stood in front of the palace. "leave us" he commanded the guard The guard did as he was told and left Cadam to talk with his father. Ganjo turned and walked inside the palace, with Cadam following close behind. They walked in silence to the top of the tower, stopping once they stood next to the great flame. Ganjo looked out over Diduna from the tower. Without turning around to face him, Ganjo addressed his son "We live in an incredibly unique time, son. The emperor's death has turned Antesia into a land filled with chaos, but also one ripe with opportunity. This is not the first time an employer has died without an heir, but it is the first in more than a thousand years that there are no living members of the imperial family. My son, we are living in the most pivotal moment of Antesian history since the great catastrophe." He turned to look at Cadam "war is brewing, winter has given reason for peace among the lords but now that spring approaches, every single lord will wish to claim the imperial throne. Do you remeber General Karft? The late emperor's greatest general." "Uh, yeah I think so" Cadam responded "He has taken control of the imperial city and most of the southern lands with it, he has spent the winter fighting back these yellow robe peasants and I suspect he shall soon move to subdue larger targets. You have proven yourself with your recent mission against the Yellow Robe camp north of here, I am going to send you on a diplomatic mission to Lord Mufid at Fort Zamok, you spent a summer there as a child." "yes, I remember," Cadam said accidentally interrupting Ganjo, he was met with a glare before Ganjo returned to speaking. "I will need to you persuade Mufid to join me against Karft, it will be difficult as he prefers to keep to himself, but I trust you will remind him of the urgency of this situation. One final note, the prisoners you captured will be executed tomorrow morning, publicly. It is necessary to remind the public how we deal with rebels" Cadam was taken aback by this news and attempted to argue "But father, are you sure that is best? One of them is a woman, what would people think of you executing a woman" Ganjo raised an eyebrow in response to Cadam's outburst. "Has spending time on the frozen roads made you forget your place boy? My word is final, I thought you knew better than to speak back. Remember to hold your tongue unless you want to end up like these prisoners you love so much" And with that Ganjo left Cadam alone in the tower, to sit with the revelation that by sunrise, Nima's fate would be sealed, and she would be executed. And it was there, for the first time in his life, Cadam decided to disobey his father.
2024.05.06 00:41 Trash_Tia Something ate through my Scholastic Decathlon team. I think I'm infected too, and our school bus is not stopping.
I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
I have a feeling I know what it is.
submitted by Trash_Tia to nosleep [link] [comments]
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
I have a feeling I know what it is.
2024.05.05 22:25 genZcommentary I'm watching Game of Thrones for the first time. Here are my thoughts on Episode 3
Hello again! I’m back with more Game of Thrones commentary!
Just like last time, I want to thank everyone who explained bits of lore to me and corrected me about things I missed or got wrong. It’s very much appreciated! I’m enjoying this show quite a bit and I’m just going to jump right into the next episode!
Episode 3- Lord Snow
Oh man, this is giving me chills. I know that the Mad King (thank you again to those who corrected and educated me on people’s identities) had Ned’s father and brother burned alive. Jaime’s saying 500 people watched silently while they burned. Chills, man.
“You served him well when serving was safe.” I’m not sure I get Ned’s attitude here. If I’m following this, Jaime killed the Mad King, who brutally executed Ned’s family. Is Ned disgusted that Jaime stabbed him in the back, literally? Or is he more upset because he wanted to kill the Mad King himself?
Joffrey may be a prick, but he has at least one idea that will lead to a stronger country. Cersei has some points but they’re short-sighted.
“Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy.” Oh yeah, that’s always been a productive view throughout history. This poor kid never had a chance with a mother like her.
“War was easier than daughters.” lol
Ned doesn’t approve of Arya having sword. I’m glad that Ned is defending Sansa to Arya and explaining why she lied. But ugh, I hate “she must stand by his side, even when he’s wrong”. I’m so happy I live in a modern society. The Stark words are “Winter is coming”. I’ve heard them say that a bunch of times. Arya was born during something called the “Long Summer”. Climate change perhaps? Lol
Bran doesn’t even remember. And Maester Luwin said something about his legs. Is he paralyzed?
Oh yeah, someone mentioned that Valyrian Steel is worth more than dragon bone, so the dagger is more expensive than I thought!
Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. I don’t believe Baelish. Let’s pretend for a moment that his story is true. Tyrion is clearly one of the smartest characters we’ve met. There’s no fucking way he’s going to give a dagger like that to an assassin. It would be so easy to trace it back to him. But putting that aside, why would Tyrion want to kill Bran? To protect his siblings? I thought it didn’t make sense that someone would give an assassin that dagger. Why give someone such an expensive and recognizable weapon?
To frame someone. The real mastermind is trying to frame Tyrion.
So either Baelish is lying and he’s the one who wants to kill Bran, or someone stole the dagger from Tyrion and gave it to an assassin. But there are pieces missing. Why would Baelish want to kill Bran? Why frame Tyrion? Maybe it was Tyrion’s siblings or even his father who set it up. It doesn’t seem like his family likes him very much. He could be a useful fall guy.
The only thing I’m sure of is that Tyrion is innocent. Call it a gut feeling.
What the hell are these guys being so aggressive for? Jon was doing what his drill sergeant told him to. You want to be mad and murder someone, how about you take out your anger on the person actually responsible? Oh wait, you can’t, because you’re small men and you don’t have the balls. Don’t even have the balls to attack Jon one on one.
Tyrion’s so clever, I love it lol oh, but he’s also sympathetic to the ball-less guys, and understands them. He would be such an amazing mediator.
Baelish’s first name is Petyr? Okay, the fact that Cat just said “he’s like a little brother to me, he would never betray my trust” makes me think he’s definitely going to betray her trust because he clearly doesn’t see her as a big sister type. Baelish is the most suspicious character now. Top of my list. But… if he does kill Bran and Cat ever finds out, that’s it. He’ll never have a chance with her (he clearly doesn’t have a chance with her now but you know how delusional men can be lol)
Ned just said “Littlefinger’s right. I can’t do anything without proof.” Who is Littlefinger? Baelish? Okay, yeah, it’s Baelish. Why do they call him Littlefinger? (Is it… you know, the reason Cat doesn’t see him as a potential lover? Lol)
The Mad King’s last words were “Burn them all”. And apparently he’d been saying it for hours.
That was such an amazing scene! That was probably my favorite scene on this show so far and I’m not even sure why!
Nevermind, he’ll never learn. God, he’s so fucking stupid. Yeah, order the guy to kill those Dothraki. But then what about the rest of them? Idiot. Oh wait, that guy is Mormont! Is he related to the Mormont at the Wall? Is that why his name was familiar? Also, clearly Jorah Mormont has decided to take orders from Daenerys rather than Viserys lol someone just got emasculated! And now he has to walk… like one of their slaves.
The Great Stallion? Is that a Dothraki god? And Daenerys is pregnant with her rapist’s baby. Awesome.
Why is Jorah being weird? He’s leaving for someplace else and it seems like news of Daenerys’ pregnancy set him off. But what could it be?
Wildlings are fleeing south, running from the White Walkers. I’m so excited to learn more about the White Walkers! But I think these men are too optimistic. No way Cersei gives a single shit about supporting the Night’s Watch.
“Boy, girl… you are a sword. That is all.” Okay, I think I love Arya’s new trainer lol Also… the Westeros Dance and the Bravos Dance. What are Westeros and Bravos?
I love that Ned got Arya sword lessons! But why does he look so troubled at the end there? Is he worried about her because she chose violence instead of embroidery?
Concluding thoughts: Another great episode! I’m really getting into this show. It moves at a slow pace, but there are no boring parts so far. I’m fully invested in trying to figure out who wants to kill Bran and who wants to frame Tyrion. So far, my main guesses are Jaime and Baelish. I’m leaning toward Jaime because he has the most to gain. I have no idea what Baelish’s motive could be.
I love that the power is shifting from Viserys to Daenerys. I do think he’s going to die at some point. He’s just got strong “disposable character” energy, you know? He only exists as a bit player in Daenerys’ story and he’s too stupid and impulsive to live long in this setting. I’m hoping Daenerys herself is the one who kills him, or orders him killed eventually. Right now she’s trying to protect him. That seems to be her flaw, she cares too much about her abusers. Viserys and Khal Drogo are her enemies but she’s trying hard to coexist with them and make them happy.
What’s gonna happen when she stops trying to make them happy? Like, for instance, if those dragon eggs hatch for her? Thanks to you guys, I know Targaryens could control or at least domesticate dragons. And since she seems to be taking care of the eggs, I bet they see her as their mother. And kids don’t like like seeing people abuse their mother, you know?
Thanks for reading! I’m enjoying the show a lot and I can’t wait for the next episode! Hopefully I’ll post the next one around this weekend.
submitted by genZcommentary to naath [link] [comments]
Just like last time, I want to thank everyone who explained bits of lore to me and corrected me about things I missed or got wrong. It’s very much appreciated! I’m enjoying this show quite a bit and I’m just going to jump right into the next episode!
Episode 3- Lord Snow
- I love this map. It’s so cool! I’m trying to pay closer attention to it each time.
Oh man, this is giving me chills. I know that the Mad King (thank you again to those who corrected and educated me on people’s identities) had Ned’s father and brother burned alive. Jaime’s saying 500 people watched silently while they burned. Chills, man.
“You served him well when serving was safe.” I’m not sure I get Ned’s attitude here. If I’m following this, Jaime killed the Mad King, who brutally executed Ned’s family. Is Ned disgusted that Jaime stabbed him in the back, literally? Or is he more upset because he wanted to kill the Mad King himself?
- Okay, this bald man’s name is Lord Varys. This guy that Ned likes is named Renly. And the guy who’s clearly in love with Ned’s wife (he’s so open about it, too!) is Lord Baelish, and he was wounded by Ned’s brother in a duel for Cat. This old guy is the Grand Maester. Wasn’t there a maester at Winterfell too? What is a maester?
- Wow. Cersei is already instructing her son in the ways of alternate facts. But to Joffrey’s credit, at least he knows he’s a sniveling little weasel. And wow, it goes even farther than that! Cersei has absolutely ruined this boy, hasn’t she? There’s spoiling your kids, then there’s this!
Joffrey may be a prick, but he has at least one idea that will lead to a stronger country. Cersei has some points but they’re short-sighted.
“Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy.” Oh yeah, that’s always been a productive view throughout history. This poor kid never had a chance with a mother like her.
- Arya appears to be plotting Joffrey’s murder lol good for her. Also, several times now I’ve noticed they’ve called the burned man (Someone said his name is Sandor Clegane) “The Hound”. Since he has a dog’s head helmet, I take it that’s a commonly known alias for him?
“War was easier than daughters.” lol
Ned doesn’t approve of Arya having sword. I’m glad that Ned is defending Sansa to Arya and explaining why she lied. But ugh, I hate “she must stand by his side, even when he’s wrong”. I’m so happy I live in a modern society. The Stark words are “Winter is coming”. I’ve heard them say that a bunch of times. Arya was born during something called the “Long Summer”. Climate change perhaps? Lol
- Hey, that old woman just called Bran “my sweet summer child”. Do you know how many times I’ve been called that? Even during my commentaries that have nothing to do with GoT lol Is this show where that phrase comes from?
Bran doesn’t even remember. And Maester Luwin said something about his legs. Is he paralyzed?
- lmao Cat was so sure she wouldn’t get recognized and immediately two guards come up and know who she is already.
Oh yeah, someone mentioned that Valyrian Steel is worth more than dragon bone, so the dagger is more expensive than I thought!
Bullshit. Bull-fucking-shit. I don’t believe Baelish. Let’s pretend for a moment that his story is true. Tyrion is clearly one of the smartest characters we’ve met. There’s no fucking way he’s going to give a dagger like that to an assassin. It would be so easy to trace it back to him. But putting that aside, why would Tyrion want to kill Bran? To protect his siblings? I thought it didn’t make sense that someone would give an assassin that dagger. Why give someone such an expensive and recognizable weapon?
To frame someone. The real mastermind is trying to frame Tyrion.
So either Baelish is lying and he’s the one who wants to kill Bran, or someone stole the dagger from Tyrion and gave it to an assassin. But there are pieces missing. Why would Baelish want to kill Bran? Why frame Tyrion? Maybe it was Tyrion’s siblings or even his father who set it up. It doesn’t seem like his family likes him very much. He could be a useful fall guy.
The only thing I’m sure of is that Tyrion is innocent. Call it a gut feeling.
- Hey, this guy’s name is Commander Mormont. Why does that sound so familiar?
What the hell are these guys being so aggressive for? Jon was doing what his drill sergeant told him to. You want to be mad and murder someone, how about you take out your anger on the person actually responsible? Oh wait, you can’t, because you’re small men and you don’t have the balls. Don’t even have the balls to attack Jon one on one.
Tyrion’s so clever, I love it lol oh, but he’s also sympathetic to the ball-less guys, and understands them. He would be such an amazing mediator.
Baelish’s first name is Petyr? Okay, the fact that Cat just said “he’s like a little brother to me, he would never betray my trust” makes me think he’s definitely going to betray her trust because he clearly doesn’t see her as a big sister type. Baelish is the most suspicious character now. Top of my list. But… if he does kill Bran and Cat ever finds out, that’s it. He’ll never have a chance with her (he clearly doesn’t have a chance with her now but you know how delusional men can be lol)
- Okay, maybe it’s not Baelish. Cersei and her brother-lover are being shady again. I think maybe Jaime hired the assassin and stole his brother’s knife to frame him for it. Oh! Tyrion was acting like he suspected something last episode! Jaime even said he wonders what side he’s on! So it’s possible he wants to get rid of Tyrion too because Tyrion might also be a threat.
Ned just said “Littlefinger’s right. I can’t do anything without proof.” Who is Littlefinger? Baelish? Okay, yeah, it’s Baelish. Why do they call him Littlefinger? (Is it… you know, the reason Cat doesn’t see him as a potential lover? Lol)
- Oh, Robert’s reminiscing about the people he’s killed with his knights. Damn, he used a hammer? “They never tell you how they all shit themselves. They don’t put that part in the songs” is such a great line! Wow, Robert is kind of abusive. But now I know there’s another Lannister. Lancel Lannister and his job seems to be to pour Robert’s wine.
The Mad King’s last words were “Burn them all”. And apparently he’d been saying it for hours.
That was such an amazing scene! That was probably my favorite scene on this show so far and I’m not even sure why!
- Hello, Daenerys! I missed you. So Dothraki don’t believe in money, and they have slaves. Not surprising. Whoa, Daenerys has some fire in her. She’s comfortable commanding others! Guess being the sex slave/wife of a Khal has perks.
Nevermind, he’ll never learn. God, he’s so fucking stupid. Yeah, order the guy to kill those Dothraki. But then what about the rest of them? Idiot. Oh wait, that guy is Mormont! Is he related to the Mormont at the Wall? Is that why his name was familiar? Also, clearly Jorah Mormont has decided to take orders from Daenerys rather than Viserys lol someone just got emasculated! And now he has to walk… like one of their slaves.
- Oh hey, the Night’s Watch has elevators. That’s handy, or it’d probably take forever to get to the top of the Wall. I wonder what the reports Benjen got were. White Walkers?
The Great Stallion? Is that a Dothraki god? And Daenerys is pregnant with her rapist’s baby. Awesome.
Why is Jorah being weird? He’s leaving for someplace else and it seems like news of Daenerys’ pregnancy set him off. But what could it be?
- Okay, Jon is being more gentle with his other trainees and he’s teaching them how to fight. I guess he took Tyrion’s less to heart. We should all take the same lesson! Being kind to others helps them be kind in turn. That’s how you make a difference in a shitty world.
Wildlings are fleeing south, running from the White Walkers. I’m so excited to learn more about the White Walkers! But I think these men are too optimistic. No way Cersei gives a single shit about supporting the Night’s Watch.
- DRAGON EGGS! And I guess Daenerys has fully embraced life with the man who bought and violated her. I suppose we all have to find our own coping mechanisms when faced with a lifetime of shit.
“Boy, girl… you are a sword. That is all.” Okay, I think I love Arya’s new trainer lol Also… the Westeros Dance and the Bravos Dance. What are Westeros and Bravos?
I love that Ned got Arya sword lessons! But why does he look so troubled at the end there? Is he worried about her because she chose violence instead of embroidery?
Concluding thoughts: Another great episode! I’m really getting into this show. It moves at a slow pace, but there are no boring parts so far. I’m fully invested in trying to figure out who wants to kill Bran and who wants to frame Tyrion. So far, my main guesses are Jaime and Baelish. I’m leaning toward Jaime because he has the most to gain. I have no idea what Baelish’s motive could be.
I love that the power is shifting from Viserys to Daenerys. I do think he’s going to die at some point. He’s just got strong “disposable character” energy, you know? He only exists as a bit player in Daenerys’ story and he’s too stupid and impulsive to live long in this setting. I’m hoping Daenerys herself is the one who kills him, or orders him killed eventually. Right now she’s trying to protect him. That seems to be her flaw, she cares too much about her abusers. Viserys and Khal Drogo are her enemies but she’s trying hard to coexist with them and make them happy.
What’s gonna happen when she stops trying to make them happy? Like, for instance, if those dragon eggs hatch for her? Thanks to you guys, I know Targaryens could control or at least domesticate dragons. And since she seems to be taking care of the eggs, I bet they see her as their mother. And kids don’t like like seeing people abuse their mother, you know?
Thanks for reading! I’m enjoying the show a lot and I can’t wait for the next episode! Hopefully I’ll post the next one around this weekend.
2024.05.05 22:02 Acceptable-Owl-6538 No Amy, its not a plot hole (Indiana Jones)
Indiana Jones was sent to retrieve the Ark. If he hadn't gone, the Ark would not have been retrieved or they would have had to send someone else to do it but that doesn't invalidate Indy's involvement. He was recruited. It was his task.
He also didn't know if the power of the Ark was real and both the Axis and Allies seem to have been wrong about what the Ark does because Indiana only learns that the Ark is not to be disturbed in the course of his investigations. Hitler seemed to believe the Ark would make his army invincible and that belief was enough to make the Allies recruit Indiana to try to stop that from happening.
He brought it back as requested. If he hadn't, some other party might have claimed the Ark. And he was able to bring information about the dangers of the Ark which led to it being secured properly.
He obtained the Ark and he obtained knowledge.
And even if his involvement hadn't ultimately amounted to anything, its still justified for him to make the attempt. Sometimes stories can work even if the hero fails. Rocky lost to Apollo in the first Rocky movie but he achieved his personal goal of going 15 rounds with the guy.
But there's no plot issue. The movie was about watching Indiana Jones make a journey to many interesting exotic far off places and ultimately he did get the Ark and he did bring the information back to the military.
The thing to keep in mind too is that this is supposed to be a throwback to old movie serials and pulp comics.
Also, Leonard's rebuttal is not a plot problem either. He says Indiana was supposed to bring it back to a museum. But we're talking about an object where, if you remove the lid, everyone in the surrounding area dies. Do you want that at a museum? It was better that something that dangerous be secured. Its actually a classic story. The hero seeks some treasure or MacGuffin of power, then realizes that its better if nobody has it. Maybe the treasure is cursed or the artifact of power is too dangerous or corrupts the user or could fall into the wrong hands.
People change their minds. Look at Back to the Future. Doc changes his mind multiple times about the time machine and about knowing one's own future. The first movie, Doc lives because he changes his mind after Marty leaves 1955. He also thinks that Jennifer running into her future self could cause the destruction of the galaxy. All that happens when they do meet is they faint.
The Dragon Ball series begins with Bulma and Goku seeking out the Dragon Balls so Bulma can make a wish. But that story arc ends with Oolong wishing for panties to keep Emperor Pilaf from making his wish for world domination.
That's it. The whole journey for panties. But it didn't amount to nothing. Bulma and Yamcha essentially both get what they wanted to wish for when they started dating each other. The Dragon Ball radar Bulma made for this mission ends up being useful many many times in future stories. Goku meets Master Roshi on the way which will begin his ongoing training making him strong enough to fight an endless succession of threats. Goku got the Flying Nimbus. And so on.
submitted by Acceptable-Owl-6538 to bigbangtheory [link] [comments]
He also didn't know if the power of the Ark was real and both the Axis and Allies seem to have been wrong about what the Ark does because Indiana only learns that the Ark is not to be disturbed in the course of his investigations. Hitler seemed to believe the Ark would make his army invincible and that belief was enough to make the Allies recruit Indiana to try to stop that from happening.
He brought it back as requested. If he hadn't, some other party might have claimed the Ark. And he was able to bring information about the dangers of the Ark which led to it being secured properly.
He obtained the Ark and he obtained knowledge.
And even if his involvement hadn't ultimately amounted to anything, its still justified for him to make the attempt. Sometimes stories can work even if the hero fails. Rocky lost to Apollo in the first Rocky movie but he achieved his personal goal of going 15 rounds with the guy.
But there's no plot issue. The movie was about watching Indiana Jones make a journey to many interesting exotic far off places and ultimately he did get the Ark and he did bring the information back to the military.
The thing to keep in mind too is that this is supposed to be a throwback to old movie serials and pulp comics.
Also, Leonard's rebuttal is not a plot problem either. He says Indiana was supposed to bring it back to a museum. But we're talking about an object where, if you remove the lid, everyone in the surrounding area dies. Do you want that at a museum? It was better that something that dangerous be secured. Its actually a classic story. The hero seeks some treasure or MacGuffin of power, then realizes that its better if nobody has it. Maybe the treasure is cursed or the artifact of power is too dangerous or corrupts the user or could fall into the wrong hands.
People change their minds. Look at Back to the Future. Doc changes his mind multiple times about the time machine and about knowing one's own future. The first movie, Doc lives because he changes his mind after Marty leaves 1955. He also thinks that Jennifer running into her future self could cause the destruction of the galaxy. All that happens when they do meet is they faint.
The Dragon Ball series begins with Bulma and Goku seeking out the Dragon Balls so Bulma can make a wish. But that story arc ends with Oolong wishing for panties to keep Emperor Pilaf from making his wish for world domination.
That's it. The whole journey for panties. But it didn't amount to nothing. Bulma and Yamcha essentially both get what they wanted to wish for when they started dating each other. The Dragon Ball radar Bulma made for this mission ends up being useful many many times in future stories. Goku meets Master Roshi on the way which will begin his ongoing training making him strong enough to fight an endless succession of threats. Goku got the Flying Nimbus. And so on.
2024.05.05 21:16 Clilly1 TTYD Remaster Ideas
Let me first say that I in no way mean to imply that any of these tweaks ought to be seen as “necessary” or “important” to make the remake worth buying or good or anything like that. I was just dreaming about this beautiful game and had some ideas for cool stuff they could implement!
New Content
We already know there will be a gallery for both music and artwork in the game. Here are some ideas for that:
In the existing game, the bestiary takes the form of a tattle log with all the enemies, descriptions, and stats.
As the game goes on, the earlier crystal stars can become less useful. So, like the partners, I would like to see the crystal star have an upgrade system.
In the base game, there are already some aesthetic badges like the Luigi and Wario badges. Here are some additional ones that would cost 0 points:
submitted by Clilly1 to ArloStuff [link] [comments]
New Content
- All of the N64 partners show up as NPCs, along with Curtsey, Huey, Olivia, and Professor Toad. None of the latter ones recognize you.
- These characters can also appear in your audience
- NPC’s that look like Lumas, Bonniters (hat ghosts from Odyssey), and Volbonans (Fork guys from Odyssey) are added to the game.
- The Bonniters only appear in Chapter 4, Lumas will appear on the moon, space station, and the Glitz Pit. Volbonans appear in Zess T’s Kitchen after you give her the cookbook to help her, and are part of the crew from the Pirate Island.
- Fast Travel:
- The New Pipe system looks great for getting from World to World
- Checkpoint flags are added in each level. Mario can find a magic whistle from one of the Help Center Quests after the first chapter which allows him to teleport to any checkpoint flag inside of a chapter he is in (so he can’t use it to go straight from Petal Meadows to Creepy Steeple, for instance). Teleports aren’t activated unless he hits the flag.
- When Doopliss steals Mario’s body, Mario loses his whistle, too.
- All the partners now have to be defeated before you can defeat Doopliss in his second battle.
- See the Negative Pit of 100 Trials and Bowser Section
- See the New Badges Section
- A Gambling house run by a Tosrterainian (The Sombrero Guys from Odyssey) has opened up in Rogueport. You can gamble coins to play games that let you win either items, badges, or coins
- New Virus enemy (From Doctor Mario) is added to the game. They change color each time they are attacked. If you manage to make all the viruses on the screen the same color, they will automatically knock out.
- Enemies from “future” Paper Mario games are added in the Negative Pit of 100 Trials (see that section)
- Check out the Crystal Star Section
We already know there will be a gallery for both music and artwork in the game. Here are some ideas for that:
- It would be cool if the art gallery was filled out by finding balled up pieces of paper in clever places throughout the world
- This might have already been shown, but it would be cool to play both the new and old sound tracks at any time while playing, like Mario Odyssey, with a toggle to allow or not allow Battle music to interrupt.
- The gallery could have 4 books in it that you could flip through. The art book, the recipe book, Luigi’s Adventure books, and the Tattle Log (these could still be accessible from the menu, just also give them this cool aesthetic in the gallery)
In the existing game, the bestiary takes the form of a tattle log with all the enemies, descriptions, and stats.
- Include friendly npc’s in the tattle log that can be added by having Goombella talk to them
- It would be cool to be able to win, find, or earn “shiney pages” for the log
- These could include partners, pixels, and characters from other games
- It would also be cool if the tattle log could include information on badges
As the game goes on, the earlier crystal stars can become less useful. So, like the partners, I would like to see the crystal star have an upgrade system.
- Green Stars are strewn around the world in little boxes, similar to shine sprites. Finding 3 green stars allows you to upgrade one crystal star. Once a crystal star has been upgraded, it has a little green star icon on it in your menu.
- Upgraded Crystal stars cost one more bulb on the meter
- Sweet Treat turns into Sweet Feast
- Earth Tremor turns into Quake Shake, which does the same amount of damage, but now hurts all enemies, even flying and raftered ones, from the very first hit
- Clock Out turns into Time Freeze, which, if you mess up the inputs, no longer has a chance of making you lose a turn. If the inputs are put in perfectly, it has a low chance of freezing enemies instead of time freezing them, which has the same affect, but adds a small amount of damage, especially to flame enemies
- Power Lift turns into Super Power Lift. This tweaks a couple of features. A) has less poison shrooms (B) adds a golden arrow, which upgrades both power and defense in one hit (rare) (C) adds a super poison mushroom, which slows you down longer (rare)
- Art Attack to Creator Chaos, which puts shapes around enemies. You do more damage for tracing along these lines. If you choose to ignore them (perhaps they aren’t in the best strategic area for you) you can still do the base damage of regular Art Attack by behaving the same way
- What was Sweat Feast is now “Luck Shift”. Luck shift has you aim a reticle like Flurries jump, and press a random button at a specific time, three times in a row to throw a star at an enemy. Each enemy that is hit by a star will suddenly have very bad luck. Bad luck means that stage hazards increase greatly, and only affect their side of the stage, and audience members will throw weapons at them. You will also become lucky, making you harder to hit. This lasts for 4 turns. This can be upgraded to “Luck Drain”, which will also add a status affect such as “Dizzy” or “Confused” to each enemy hit.
- Show Stopper turns into “Show Boat”. This star can now be used on more powerful enemies and even bosses, as, if cannot just end a battle, will do 10 damage to all enemies, piercing defense
- SuperNova turns into “Star Destroyer”. It does the same damage, but also has a high likelihood to inflict a random status affect to any enemy for 1 turn, such as dizzy, confused, burn, freeze, or timestop
- Spin Badge - This allows you to spin like you could in Paper Mario 64 to travel quicker. If you spin into an enemy, it counts as an attack. This attack only does 2 damage, pierces defense, and requires no inputs (2 points)
- Running Shoes - Greatly increases your running speed (1 point)
- Boomerang Hammer - throw your hammer like a boomerang bro, so it hits enemies that are standing on the stage going forward and coming back. Does the current level of damage of your hammer. Costs a lot of FP. (4 points)
- Sandal - Mario’s base hammer attack is replaced by a sandal, which he slaps enemies with. It operates the same as Ms. Mowz’s slap. Max damage is the same as the hammer, but inputs and interactions with enemies is the same as slap. (2 points)
- Flower Appeal - Appeal refills FP instead of Star Power. It fills much slower, and Star Power cannot fill up whatsoever. (5 points)
- Super Star Defense - Getting 2 Super Defenses in a row greatly increases the amount of star power the audience gives you (2 points)
- Invite - Appeal no longer refills star meter directly, but it does cause far more audience members to show up
- Giant Hammer - a selectable attack which increases the size of mario’s hammer for one attack. Although it does not increase damage, it allows him to hit flying enemies and the first and second enemy in one turn. Costs a fair amount of FP. (3 points)
- Super Star - Replaces defend with “Super Star”, which makes Mario or his partner completely invulnerable for one turn. It plays the “Star” theme from mario one and makes them glow in rainbow colors. It does one point of damage to whoever touches them directly. Costs 2 fp to use (1 point)
- Fog Hammer - Selectable attack for Mario to use on his own partner. If it works, it does no damage, but creates a fog around that partner for 3 turns, making them hard to hit.
- 3D Hammer - Selectable attack which allows Mario to turn the stage 3D, like he could in Super Paper Mario, walk past all the enemies, turn it back 2D, and attack the backmost enemy with the hammer. Costs 2 fp. (2 points)
- Rewind - Selectable attack. Allows Mario to rewind time, undoing a complete cycle (all things done since before his last attack, including partner and enemy attacks.) Does not work on bosses, costs a lot of FP (4 badge points)
- Partner Power - This badge could be found at the bottom of the bit of 100 trials. It would allow you to select 2 partners to play as instead of always playing as mario. The “main” partner dying creates a gameover.
In the base game, there are already some aesthetic badges like the Luigi and Wario badges. Here are some additional ones that would cost 0 points:
- “64” Badge. This makes Mario look like his Paper Mario N64 sprite, Goombella look like Goombario, Koops look like Kooper, and Admiral Bobbery look like Bombette (no dialog is changed)
- “Super” Badge. This changes out the sprites for Mario and his partners to look like their sprites on the Super Nintendo, especially Super Mario World. They would still appear 2D, and flip around in the same way. Each partner would look like their Super Nintendo sprite, with Flury and Vivian having new sprite work to match the style
- “Shadow” Sprite. This can be found in creepy steeple after beating Doopliss for the second time. It allows Mario to appear like shadow mario.
- “Cut Out” Badge. This makes mario and his partners have the white outlines of the more recent games.
- “Waffle” Badge. Comes free with the purchase of the last Luigi Noval you buy. This makes mario look like Luigi, and all his partners look like one of the Luigi partners.
- Yoshi color badges can be gained by going back through the tournament in chapter 3. Each round awards you with a new yoshi color. Becoming the champ again creates a gold variant yoshi color which sparkles.
- “Throwback” badge gives mario his colors from Donkey Kong Arcade Game
- “Mario 64 SF” Badge replaces all Mario’s voice sounds with his sounds from Super Mario 64.
- “NES SF” Badge replaces all of Mario and his partner’s sound effects to sound like Super Mario Bros on NES
- “Quite SF” Badge takes away all the new talking sound effects
- “Chatty SF” Badge replaces Mario’s talking sounds with his voice effects from the Mario and Luigi series
- “Wowee Zowee SF” Has Mario say “Wowee Zowee” for each time he does a “Stylish” attack
- New Banana Peel Item, which is thrown on the stage. Walking Enemies have a 40% chance of slipping on it on their way over to attack and missing a turn
- New “Fan” item from Sticker Star is added, which Mario throws into the background of the stage. It has a chance to blow enemies off the stage and defeat them, regardless of their health
- New “Scissors” item from Sticker Star is added, cutting enemies up and doing a lot of damage. Does not work on Rock-based enemies at all, like Clefts or Chain Chomps.
- New “Donkey Kong” item generates a DK Sprite from the arcade game, who throws 3 barrels at opponents
- There is a Negative Pit of 100 Trials. It can only be accessed by pressing a button on floor 100 of the Original Pit, which opens up a secret passage way on the other side of the Thousand Year Door.
- Enemies here are even harder, with enemies from floor 60 of the original appearing on floor of this one.
- You cannot skip floors in this one
- Very rare tattle log pages can be found here on random floors.
- Enemies from Super Paper Mario can be found here, along with Shiney and Origami variants of enemies (who behave similarly but have stronger stats)
- The final version is a very suped-up version of Bowser
- After beating the original pit, Mario himself can be switched out for Bowser
- Bowser has higher defense and harder hitting attacks then mario.
- His jump is a ground pound that does far more damage, and his hammer is replaced with fire-breath, which does less damage, but hits all ground-based enemies and has a chance to catch them on fire.
- Bowser is invulnerable to many air-based attacks because of his spikes, but can be flipped over like Koops
- All of Bowser’s base attacks cost at least 1 fp
- All of Mario’s jump and hammer-based badges do not affect Bowser
- Bowser is far more susceptible to status attacks
- If the player manages to get Bowser before the end of the game, the Bowsers will argue about who the “real” Bowser is when they meet each other.
2024.05.05 21:01 Clilly1 TTYD Remaster Ideas
Let me first say that I in no way mean to imply that any of these tweaks ought to be seen as “necessary” or “important” to make the remake worth buying or good or anything like that. I was just dreaming about this beautiful game and had some ideas for cool stuff they could implement!
New Content
We already know there will be a gallery for both music and artwork in the game. Here are some ideas for that:
In the existing game, the bestiary takes the form of a tattle log with all the enemies, descriptions, and stats.
As the game goes on, the earlier crystal stars can become less useful. So, like the partners, I would like to see the crystal star have an upgrade system.
In the base game, there are already some aesthetic badges like the Luigi and Wario badges. Here are some additional ones that would cost 0 points:
submitted by Clilly1 to papermario [link] [comments]
New Content
- All of the N64 partners show up as NPCs, along with Curtsey, Huey, Olivia, and Professor Toad. None of the latter ones recognize you.
- These characters can also appear in your audience
- NPC’s that look like Lumas, Bonniters (hat ghosts from Odyssey), and Volbonans (Fork guys from Odyssey) are added to the game.
- The Bonniters only appear in Chapter 4, Lumas will appear on the moon, space station, and the Glitz Pit. Volbonans appear in Zess T’s Kitchen after you give her the cookbook to help her, and are part of the crew from the Pirate Island.
- Fast Travel:
- The New Pipe system looks great for getting from World to World
- Checkpoint flags are added in each level. Mario can find a magic whistle from one of the Help Center Quests after the first chapter which allows him to teleport to any checkpoint flag inside of a chapter he is in (so he can’t use it to go straight from Petal Meadows to Creepy Steeple, for instance). Teleports aren’t activated unless he hits the flag.
- When Doopliss steals Mario’s body, Mario loses his whistle, too.
- All the partners now have to be defeated before you can defeat Doopliss in his second battle.
- See the Negative Pit of 100 Trials and Bowser Section
- See the New Badges Section
- A Gambling house run by a Tosrterainian (The Sombrero Guys from Odyssey) has opened up in Rogueport. You can gamble coins to play games that let you win either items, badges, or coins
- New Virus enemy (From Doctor Mario) is added to the game. They change color each time they are attacked. If you manage to make all the viruses on the screen the same color, they will automatically knock out.
- Enemies from “future” Paper Mario games are added in the Negative Pit of 100 Trials (see that section)
- Check out the Crystal Star Section
We already know there will be a gallery for both music and artwork in the game. Here are some ideas for that:
- It would be cool if the art gallery was filled out by finding balled up pieces of paper in clever places throughout the world
- This might have already been shown, but it would be cool to play both the new and old sound tracks at any time while playing, like Mario Odyssey, with a toggle to allow or not allow Battle music to interrupt.
- The gallery could have 4 books in it that you could flip through. The art book, the recipe book, Luigi’s Adventure books, and the Tattle Log (these could still be accessible from the menu, just also give them this cool aesthetic in the gallery)
In the existing game, the bestiary takes the form of a tattle log with all the enemies, descriptions, and stats.
- Include friendly npc’s in the tattle log that can be added by having Goombella talk to them
- It would be cool to be able to win, find, or earn “shiney pages” for the log
- These could include partners, pixels, and characters from other games
- It would also be cool if the tattle log could include information on badges
As the game goes on, the earlier crystal stars can become less useful. So, like the partners, I would like to see the crystal star have an upgrade system.
- Green Stars are strewn around the world in little boxes, similar to shine sprites. Finding 3 green stars allows you to upgrade one crystal star. Once a crystal star has been upgraded, it has a little green star icon on it in your menu.
- Upgraded Crystal stars cost one more bulb on the meter
- Sweet Treat turns into Sweet Feast
- Earth Tremor turns into Quake Shake, which does the same amount of damage, but now hurts all enemies, even flying and raftered ones, from the very first hit
- Clock Out turns into Time Freeze, which, if you mess up the inputs, no longer has a chance of making you lose a turn. If the inputs are put in perfectly, it has a low chance of freezing enemies instead of time freezing them, which has the same affect, but adds a small amount of damage, especially to flame enemies
- Power Lift turns into Super Power Lift. This tweaks a couple of features. A) has less poison shrooms (B) adds a golden arrow, which upgrades both power and defense in one hit (rare) (C) adds a super poison mushroom, which slows you down longer (rare)
- Art Attack to Creator Chaos, which puts shapes around enemies. You do more damage for tracing along these lines. If you choose to ignore them (perhaps they aren’t in the best strategic area for you) you can still do the base damage of regular Art Attack by behaving the same way
- What was Sweat Feast is now “Luck Shift”. Luck shift has you aim a reticle like Flurries jump, and press a random button at a specific time, three times in a row to throw a star at an enemy. Each enemy that is hit by a star will suddenly have very bad luck. Bad luck means that stage hazards increase greatly, and only affect their side of the stage, and audience members will throw weapons at them. You will also become lucky, making you harder to hit. This lasts for 4 turns. This can be upgraded to “Luck Drain”, which will also add a status affect such as “Dizzy” or “Confused” to each enemy hit.
- Show Stopper turns into “Show Boat”. This star can now be used on more powerful enemies and even bosses, as, if cannot just end a battle, will do 10 damage to all enemies, piercing defense
- SuperNova turns into “Star Destroyer”. It does the same damage, but also has a high likelihood to inflict a random status affect to any enemy for 1 turn, such as dizzy, confused, burn, freeze, or timestop
- Spin Badge - This allows you to spin like you could in Paper Mario 64 to travel quicker. If you spin into an enemy, it counts as an attack. This attack only does 2 damage, pierces defense, and requires no inputs (2 points)
- Running Shoes - Greatly increases your running speed (1 point)
- Boomerang Hammer - throw your hammer like a boomerang bro, so it hits enemies that are standing on the stage going forward and coming back. Does the current level of damage of your hammer. Costs a lot of FP. (4 points)
- Sandal - Mario’s base hammer attack is replaced by a sandal, which he slaps enemies with. It operates the same as Ms. Mowz’s slap. Max damage is the same as the hammer, but inputs and interactions with enemies is the same as slap. (2 points)
- Flower Appeal - Appeal refills FP instead of Star Power. It fills much slower, and Star Power cannot fill up whatsoever. (5 points)
- Super Star Defense - Getting 2 Super Defenses in a row greatly increases the amount of star power the audience gives you (2 points)
- Invite - Appeal no longer refills star meter directly, but it does cause far more audience members to show up
- Giant Hammer - a selectable attack which increases the size of mario’s hammer for one attack. Although it does not increase damage, it allows him to hit flying enemies and the first and second enemy in one turn. Costs a fair amount of FP. (3 points)
- Super Star - Replaces defend with “Super Star”, which makes Mario or his partner completely invulnerable for one turn. It plays the “Star” theme from mario one and makes them glow in rainbow colors. It does one point of damage to whoever touches them directly. Costs 2 fp to use (1 point)
- Fog Hammer - Selectable attack for Mario to use on his own partner. If it works, it does no damage, but creates a fog around that partner for 3 turns, making them hard to hit.
- 3D Hammer - Selectable attack which allows Mario to turn the stage 3D, like he could in Super Paper Mario, walk past all the enemies, turn it back 2D, and attack the backmost enemy with the hammer. Costs 2 fp. (2 points)
- Rewind - Selectable attack. Allows Mario to rewind time, undoing a complete cycle (all things done since before his last attack, including partner and enemy attacks.) Does not work on bosses, costs a lot of FP (4 badge points)
- Partner Power - This badge could be found at the bottom of the bit of 100 trials. It would allow you to select 2 partners to play as instead of always playing as mario. The “main” partner dying creates a gameover.
In the base game, there are already some aesthetic badges like the Luigi and Wario badges. Here are some additional ones that would cost 0 points:
- “64” Badge. This makes Mario look like his Paper Mario N64 sprite, Goombella look like Goombario, Koops look like Kooper, and Admiral Bobbery look like Bombette (no dialog is changed)
- “Super” Badge. This changes out the sprites for Mario and his partners to look like their sprites on the Super Nintendo, especially Super Mario World. They would still appear 2D, and flip around in the same way. Each partner would look like their Super Nintendo sprite, with Flury and Vivian having new sprite work to match the style
- “Shadow” Sprite. This can be found in creepy steeple after beating Doopliss for the second time. It allows Mario to appear like shadow mario.
- “Cut Out” Badge. This makes mario and his partners have the white outlines of the more recent games.
- “Waffle” Badge. Comes free with the purchase of the last Luigi Noval you buy. This makes mario look like Luigi, and all his partners look like one of the Luigi partners.
- Yoshi color badges can be gained by going back through the tournament in chapter 3. Each round awards you with a new yoshi color. Becoming the champ again creates a gold variant yoshi color which sparkles.
- “Throwback” badge gives mario his colors from Donkey Kong Arcade Game
- “Mario 64 SF” Badge replaces all Mario’s voice sounds with his sounds from Super Mario 64.
- “NES SF” Badge replaces all of Mario and his partner’s sound effects to sound like Super Mario Bros on NES
- “Quite SF” Badge takes away all the new talking sound effects
- “Chatty SF” Badge replaces Mario’s talking sounds with his voice effects from the Mario and Luigi series
- “Wowee Zowee SF” Has Mario say “Wowee Zowee” for each time he does a “Stylish” attack
- New Banana Peel Item, which is thrown on the stage. Walking Enemies have a 40% chance of slipping on it on their way over to attack and missing a turn
- New “Fan” item from Sticker Star is added, which Mario throws into the background of the stage. It has a chance to blow enemies off the stage and defeat them, regardless of their health
- New “Scissors” item from Sticker Star is added, cutting enemies up and doing a lot of damage. Does not work on Rock-based enemies at all, like Clefts or Chain Chomps.
- New “Donkey Kong” item generates a DK Sprite from the arcade game, who throws 3 barrels at opponents
- There is a Negative Pit of 100 Trials. It can only be accessed by pressing a button on floor 100 of the Original Pit, which opens up a secret passage way on the other side of the Thousand Year Door.
- Enemies here are even harder, with enemies from floor 60 of the original appearing on floor of this one.
- You cannot skip floors in this one
- Very rare tattle log pages can be found here on random floors.
- Enemies from Super Paper Mario can be found here, along with Shiney and Origami variants of enemies (who behave similarly but have stronger stats)
- The final version is a very suped-up version of Bowser
- After beating the original pit, Mario himself can be switched out for Bowser
- Bowser has higher defense and harder hitting attacks then mario.
- His jump is a ground pound that does far more damage, and his hammer is replaced with fire-breath, which does less damage, but hits all ground-based enemies and has a chance to catch them on fire.
- Bowser is invulnerable to many air-based attacks because of his spikes, but can be flipped over like Koops
- All of Bowser’s base attacks cost at least 1 fp
- All of Mario’s jump and hammer-based badges do not affect Bowser
- Bowser is far more susceptible to status attacks
- If the player manages to get Bowser before the end of the game, the Bowsers will argue about who the “real” Bowser is when they meet each other.
2024.05.05 20:49 Frostdraken The Void Warden: Episode 3 -Pulling at Threads- [Part 2]
Welcome to The Oblivion Cycle universe, a vast setting spanning all of time and space and so much more. While many stories may shed perspective on this grand cosmic vista, there are also tales of adventure and sacrifice, romance and terror, grimdark corruption and scientific progress. To become immersed in the setting is to let the chaos of creativity flow through you, to let go of what is probable to discover what’s possible. I have created TOC for one reason, to inspire and entertain any who will listen. So please feel free to join me on this great adventure as I push the boundaries of what is possible and expand the limits of our creativity together. For more information on the setting and its lore there is a subreddit for TOC at TheOblivionCycle and a Discord server dedicated to it here [https://discord.gg/uGsYHfdjYf] called ‘The Oblivion Cycle Community Server’. I hope you find the following story entertaining and once more, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.
+ E1:P1 + Episode 3 Start + Next +
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Continued From E3:P1
Balinski walked to the exit with Daryon, the two of them walking in relative silence for the first leg of the journey. As they reached the street level and stepped out onto it he felt an arm on his shoulder. “I think we should be careful how we approach this. I have heard about this place, I knew an older officer who got dispatched here to settle a fight and ended up crippled for life.” her story didn't exactly fill him with dread, he was already crippled for life.
She didn't seem to notice the irony of her statement and instead started to walk off with that strange alien gait of hers. Her many legs seemed to move in waves, pushing her first this way then the other, in this slightly wending manner she advanced along the sidewalk next to him.
They crossed the majority of the space like this before she nudged him. “You are way too sstill, loosssen up. Relax up a little, your possture screamsss cop. You need to sslouch a little, maybe even add ssome ssswagger to your step.”
She seemed to do just as she suggested, adding a slight sway to her upper body as she walked. He just took a breath and tried his best to relax. But it was difficult to do when he knew with a surety that he was walking into a dangerous situation.
With her casual clothing and the light sparkling from her polished blue eyes he had to admit that she made for a striking figure. Her back was colorfully patterned as was typical of the females of her species. The thick plates of her carapace had a thick yellow streak running down the middle with what almost looked like lightning bolts that flared off at each new segment of her back plates. All of this was accentuated with a dull orange highlight that seemed to make the yellow glow all the more spectacular. It made her easily distracting to walk behind and so he hurried to catch up to her side.
She looked his way slightly and he noted the way her antenna rose. She seemed to hiss slightly louder than normal and he got the impression she was stifling a laugh. He grimaced and tried once more to act natural.
They crossed the street and the atmosphere changed as soon as they rounded the next corner. The bright opulence of the garish casinos on the main street were now hidden from view by the much more mundane looking buildings that lined the smaller road. He glanced at a few and realised that many of them seemed to be either abandoned or condemned.
“What is this place? Why does it feel so.. ominous?” He hunched a little.
Daryon just gestured to one of the nearby buildings. “All of thesse were owned by the casinoss a few decadesss ago. But when the current financial downturn happened at the sstart of the rebellion most of them had to closse their doorsss. Ssmall businesss and the entire damn community ripped up by the rootss due to the actionss of that damnable conflict.” She paused, stopping for a moment as she looked full at him.
Several of her hands went to cover her mouth as she apologised to him quickly. “Oh, ssorry. I didn't mean to ssound so disresspectful. I think that combat veteranss are great and all, you did a wonderful thing defending the Union from..” he had to cut her off with an aggressive wave of his hand as he stopped in his tracks and looked at her directly.
He stepped closer to her causing her to back up a pace, she seemed to gasp slightly at the anger that flared in his eye. Her spiracle lungs sucking in a large intake of breath from the many small breathing holes along her lower sides.
She was nearly backed into the nearby wall as he spoke, “Protecting from what! From the damn overbearing bureaucracy of our own corrupt congress? Or are you referring to those genocidal maniacs that c-call themselves the true patriots. They all make me sick in my mind, Daryon.”
He stopped and took a deep calming breath. He looked down at his hands which had balled into fists at his sides, they were shaking and he realised with a jolt just how close he was standing to the large vinarfelien. His chest was inches from hers and her body language suggested less fear and more confusion.
He unclenched his hands as he turned away and put them on his head. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. Without turning he began, “I-I.. I’m sorry, Daryon. You didn’t deserve that. I just.. I can’t talk about the war, the things I saw. The things we did?” Balinski found himself shivering slightly.
‘No, not now.’ He thought to himself desperately as he felt the beginnings of panic seeping into his mind.
As he was afraid he might lose his grip on reality he felt something brush against the back of his head slightly. Before he could really think about it he felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Daryon moved to stand by his side. Her long body trailed behind him out of sight still, but the raised forward third of her body was nearly the same height as he.
She seemed to scrutinise him for a moment before she too apologised. “I ssee that I have upsset you. I apologise as it was not my intention to do sso. I can see that the war took itsss toll out of both your body and mind. I can undersstand having painful memoriesss that you wissh would just go away. But the harder you try and let them go the more they seem to grow like a cancer in your memoriess.” She paused, it had sounded as if she were going to say more but stopped short.
He wanted to ask her to elaborate but found that he didn't have the will. She removed her hand as he stood still, he sucked in a breath. “Maybe.” That was all he said. It was all he had to.
Without a word he turned and started towards their destination. She caught up with him and they continued walking, he felt a little awkward. He rarely lost his temper, at least on friends and people he respected. He glanced at the tall centipoid alien, he did indeed consider the woman as his friend. One of his few friends that he could reliably count on.
He rubbed his shoulder as a strange tingle seemed to seep through the joint, he cleared his throat to get her attention and then spoke softly. “Daryon? I wanted to apologise. I shouldn't have shouted at you, it wasn't fair to you. Would you accept my apology?”
She seemed a little curious, her insectoid head cocking ever so slightly as she gazed up at his face. Her antennae twitched, a symphony of emotions played out over that rigid, chitinous face of hers before she responded to him. When she did her voice seemed a little lower than usual, “Yess, Balinsski. And I too apologise for talking about.. what I talked about. I was told by Ssiyel that mentioning certain articless from your passt might bring you pain. I am sssorry for not listening to her advice, I accept your apology. Would you accept mine?” He looked at her curiously as she finished speaking.
He looked into that strange alien face and saw no animosity at all. Her faceplates cracked apart slightly as she waited for his response. “Yea. I do.” Was all he muttered.
She smiled, her antennae popping up slightly. With her rigid faceplates and lack of movable facial features she expressed her emotions differently. Not so differently that he couldn't tell in general how she was feeling. All social creatures discovered by the Union so far had physical social cues. Even the crystalline jeseo with their hard bodies made of living superconductor often used their manipulator tendrils to accentuate or punctuate their electronic speech.
He reached out and gave her shoulder a slap after the thought, “Alright. Now that we are back on the same page what say you we knock some heads.” She raised a hand in what looked like a contemplative gesture. He grinned, “A figure of speech is all it was.”
Daryon seemed to settle, her burning comment assuaged. They reached a hole in the wall alley and she put out an arm and looked around. Leaning close she hissed, “Alright. Walk around thiss corner and we are at the bar. Act natural.”
Balinski glanced down at himself and asked, “And how am I supposed to act? Like a private military contractor?”
The comment was disingenuous, he knew, but he wasn’t sure how to voice his concerns to her without sounding as inexperienced as he was. He wasn't a private eye detective like in the stories, he was a void warden. As close as one could get to a hired gun while still being legally able to work with law enforcement.
She looked around again and then hissed in mild frustration. “I don’t know? Act like my boyfriend then, let me do the talking. I have done thiss before, clearly you haven't.”
The annoyed tone in which she spoke made what she had said go over the top of his head for a few seconds before he realised exactly what she had just said. “Be your what? What do you mean?” He looked at the alien woman, his remaining eyebrow raised in mild confusion. He tried to think what that meant he was supposed to do, what was being her boyfriend even supposed to look like. He had never dated an alien before, especially not one so different physically from himself.
He saw her throw up a few arms and mutter. “Men.” She turned and gestured to the alley, “Jusst walk with me and forget what I ssaid. Let me do the talking and if anyone asksss you why you are here jusst tell them that you are with me. Alright?” She placed all four lower hands on the sides of her torso, the closest thing she had to hips.
Balinski frowned slightly, he didn’t like not being in charge of the situation. But in light of her experience was forced to be on the back foot. It wasn’t all bad at least he thought to himself as they started around the corner. Daryon seemed to know what she was doing, of course delta force operatives were recruited from other field operations and he had to take a moment to wonder what department she had been recruited from.
There was no further time to dwell on the idea as they walked down the strangely clean and well maintained alley. The dark and water stained brickwork of the surrounding buildings met the cracked concrete of the alley at crisp right angles, the dark city-plate above was as dark as the night sky overhead. The profusion of trash and general debris one might have expected from such a gloomy place was conspicuously absent. They soon reached a recessed area where a couple of very burly looking Yeown females in skin-tight padded fighting gear stood with their backs leaning on the wall. They were flanking a nondescript black door, the kind with the heavy blast visor that could be slid back to look through it.
The one on the left had a dark red scar across her face that ran from her left eye diagonally to the corner of her short muzzle-like jaw. Her fur was a pale, almost silvery white and her eyes glinted like polished blue gemstones in the dim light of the alley.
She took a heavy step forwards, her powerful predator muscles swimming beneath her thin fur like waves under her skin. She spoke in a thin growl, not overtly hostile but dripping with barely veiled aggression. “Stop right there. You two don't look familiar to me, and I hate talking to strangers. State your purpose here!” Balinski was at once taken aback and a little relieved. He was expecting the bar to be some run down bait shot, this looked more like the entrance to a private club.
Daryon motioned to the yeown and spoke boisterously, her entire demeanour changed as her normally sharp manner became loose and almost bawdy. Her voice was different too, a salacious tone hissing along with her slippery words that made his shoulders prickle uncomfortably. “Ah, hello there ladies. I was referred to this reputable establishment by a Mr. Encore. I am sure you have heard the name?”
The woman that had spoken took a step back and glanced to her companion nervously. The other yeown now flicked away the small toothpick she had been chewing on and growled, “And what makes you think that some cocked up streetwalker such as yourself is savvy enough to know a hard ass like that?”
Balinski looked at the second yeown, they seemed a little more subdued. Their cream colored fur was streaked with russet stripes and their eyes seemed somehow older. He glanced at Daryon and she spoke up once more. This time adding a little bit of sass to her tone now.
She swayed from side to side slightly, her ten arms punctuating her movements as she gestured animatedly, “Who are you calling streetwalker you two ton burrowraiding carrot-muncher. I may not have such a reputable job as yours, standing next to a door.” She punctuated it with a small dismissive flick as if the very thought made her sick. “But I do my job well and I love it. Don’t I, dear?” The furry alien’s canine-like features narrowed in anger at the insult, her bright green eyes flashing dangerously.
She reached over and tapped his shoulder, he suddenly realised that everyone’s attention was on him and he felt a trickle of sweat roll down the back of his neck from the sudden pressure. He cleared his throat and tried to act as casual as he could. He wasn’t really sure what was happening but he had a suspicion. “Oh, yeah. She is the best, at.. ya know..”
Silence. Both the yeown were now staring at him suspiciously. He tensed slightly, getting ready to throw hands if he needed too. Before it came to blows, Daryon spoke up once more. This time her voice took on a more conspiratorial tone and she covered her face with a hand in his direction, as if she were trying to speak without him hearing. He pretended not to hear even though his cybernetic implants easily picked up on the woman’s speech.
“He is one of the big man’s new projects. Still in the original packaging if you get my meaning.” She muttered.
The first yeown smiled wide, her sharp teeth glinting in the light as she seemed to appraise him with a practiced eye. He shifted a little, suddenly a touch uncomfortable due to the scrutiny. She licked her lips slightly and cackled, “Yes, I see. He’s a mere stripling, not even taken first overnight watch at the den of another.”
Balinski frowned at that. He wasn't all the way up to speed on vague yeown euphemisms, but that had sounded distinctly like she had just called him a virgin. The second woman chuckled at the other’s comment and then raised a hand for quiet. “Alright brightscales. I am doing you a favor, when you are done with him feel free to send big boy here our way. I am sure we could show him a thing or two even you haven’t thought of.”
As the scarred yeown laughed again the other banged on the door four times in rapid succession. A moment later the armored slit slid open and a pair of glowing eyes looked out. A wholly inhuman voice seemed to speak from the recess, “What is it. You have guests?”
The yeown growled, “Yes, why else would I be banging on the door like that?”
The synthetic voice answered without a seconds delay, “It is possible that you wanted to talk, I don't have anybody to talk to in here.”
The second yeown palmed her eyes in muted frustration as she muttered, “In the name of Frine, I swear..” She spoke up louder now, “Just open the fuzzing door you maladroit fart breather.
The glowing eyes seemed to grumble as they disappeared and the visor shut. The yeown that had spoken turned and let out a loud huffing sigh. “I really hate that guy. What an absolute asswipe, right Terri?” She nudged her companion whose name seemed to be Terri.
Terri shrugged her shoulders and then cocked her head and seemed to frown. “He isn’t all that bad, you don't always have to be so mean to him.”
The older yeown growled in annoyance and seemed about to rebuke Terri but was stopped as the door opened and an inhumanly tall figure gestured to them to enter. Balinski’s eyes widened as he saw them.
Daryon stepped forwards and nodded to them politely, Balinski followed directly after as the two yeown started to argue with each other. The figure was tall, likely more than a meter taller than nis own two-hundred-and-one centimeters and covered in a strange suit. It had the obvious bulk of exoskeletal supports as well as a large powered backpack that looked to be some sort of atmospheric condensing unit. He realised what it was at the same time he recognised the species, it was an umraghj wearing an environmental compensation unit.
The ECU suit hissed and whirred slightly as the tall, thin figure gestured towards the hallway they were already in. “Just go-on down that way and you can't miss it. Thanks for coming.” they said sadly.
Balinski was ready to go but Daryon stopped him as she turned and stepped closer to the sad looking umraghj. He was pressed back, he couldn't help but feel like she was getting back at him for his earlier actions as he had nowhere to go. The door had been closed and he wasn’t going to step into the door tender’s personal space, so his only option was to stand as far from Daryon as he politely could.
The vinarfelien woman gestured for the umraghj to lean down, which they did. “What’ss your name?” She asked them.
They responded slowly, their synthetic voice making it a little hard to hear the inflection in their tone. “My name? It is Dunmec ma’am. Begging your pardon, but why do you care? I’m just the door watcher.”
She raised a few hands and gestured towards the door. “Nothing wrong with that Dunmec, I have watched more than a few doors in my time. One of her antennae flicked, she continued. “I wass curiousss about what'ss going on between you and Terri?”
Balinski watched as the suited figure’s body language immediately changed. They went from slightly hunched and drawn into themselves to standing straight and looking for all intents and purposes as if they had just eaten something incredibly sour. Their face was only just visible through the visor they wore, and the slightly bovine features he could see looked to be fully taken aback by the vinarfelien woman’s comment.
Dunmec looked around quickly, a deep sucking breath coming from their speakers as they failed to conceal their shock. “H-how did you, what do you mean?” Balinski smiled as he realised what she was doing.
Daryon gestured again and spoke even lower, once more causing the figure to have to stoop towards her. This time they slumped not in dejected misery, but in a near conspiratorial slouch that was strangely at odds with the way they spoke. She stated clearly, “Well, it iss incredibly obvious that sshe feelsss ssome sort of way for you. The way sshe sspoke out in your defensse against her sssuperior..”
Dunmec nodded. “Her older sister, Missy. She hates me, calls me weak and clawless. She is the worst kind of bully, the kind that makes the ones you love dependent upon their cruelty.” he didn't seem to be looking at either of them anymore. The poor lovestruck fool was caught in his own world.
Daryon shook her head. “And yet when Terri heard her insssult you sshe stepped in to defy her ssissster. That has to count for ssomething, otherwisse what would be the point of ssaying what sshe sssaid.”
The alien man looked a bit more interested now. He leaned forwards a little more as he asked in his quiet partially synthetic voice, “What did she say.. about me? What do I do?”
Daryon seemed to glance at Balinski now, her head movement so fast and subtle that he thought he may have missed it. But no, she had indeed been telling him something.
Balinski stepped a little closer as he took the cue, his chest practically pressing into Daryon’s side as he offered his own advice. “You should go and talk to her, man. Show her your inner strength, stand up to her sister. I can guarantee you that if you do that she will come to you, protect you even I am willing to bet.” Daryon gave him a small head nod, she realised that he had seen through her plan and seemed pleased that he had picked up on it so fast.
Playing matchmaker seemed like a general distraction to their mission, but it would be helpful to have the ear of the man guarding the only known exit to the building should they get into a spot of trouble. And fate seemed to have put the perfect idiot into their path. Balinski smiled, for what it was worth, he hoped it went well for the guy. Balinski hadn’t seen any other umraghj in Cheenha before, much less another receptive female. They were the least populous species in the Union after the jeseo after all.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw that the tall alien had placed a hand on both of their shoulders. His demeanour had changed and he puffed out his scrawny looking chest as he thanked them in a much more confident voice, “I will do it. What’s the worst that could happen, and she did seem very nice to me the other day when we met in the breakroom for lunch..” they pondered and then took a step back. “Thank you for that, now move along, don’t let my problems keep you from enjoying yourselves.”
Dunmec waved them through to which they gratefully complied. As they moved out of sight of the tall, suited alien Daryon nudged his arm. “Good work, I wasn’t ssure you were going to pick up on that.”
He just gave her a little half smile. “Yeah, playing matchmaker was a little bit of a surprise, but after you started talking I figured it out as you pointed out.” She smirked in her own way, faceplates cracking slightly as they made their way around a corner.
The music he had heard upon first entering the building grew in volume and power till he could almost feel it in his bones. Daryon seemed similarly affected, the woman slowing and seeming to cringe inwards. He stopped and looked at her, “Are you alright, Daryon?”
She shook her upper body slightly and covered her eyes with her two upper hands. “Yea, just.. g-give me a ssecond.” He could hear her take a deep breath, the spiracles along the sides of her body sucking in a rush of air. She covered her eyes and looked at him directly. “I have bad memoriess of places like thiss. Promisse you won't leave me alone in here?”
He nodded instantly, he could immediately recognise the look of somebody in deep emotional distress. He did the only thing he could think of, he reached out and took one of her hands in his. Holding it tightly he felt her squeeze his hand in return. It was a damn good thing his fingers were made of alloy as she might have broken them otherwise.
Balinski gave her a small smile. “Never, we are partners right? We need to look out for each other.” He didn't miss the way her mouth opened slightly or the way her body seemed to draw slightly towards him. Maybe it was the trauma speaking, but she needed his help and he would support her like Caesar normally supported him to the best of his own ability.
The thing about it was, he wasn’t entirely sure he could. He had a suspicion about her recent behaviour towards him, ever since what she had told him at the memorial. He shook the thoughts from his mind as he stepped forwards and around the corner.
At the end of a short hall was a set of double doors, the small windows on them flashing brightly with multicolored lights as some manner of club music leaked through the gaps between them and the wall. So the Slimehut wasn’t just some dingy bar, it was an entire underground club. He glanced at Daryon, her hand still tightly wrapped around his own. He wasn’t sure he could have pried her inhuman strong grip loose with a pry bar at that point. What must have happened to her to make her so apprehensive, she didn’t seem afraid. He had never seen her look afraid, but he did indeed understand the bone weakening uncertainty that having one’s reality crushed brings.
So he stood tall and straight as he gave her a final nod. “We got this Daryon, don't you worry. Nobody is going to hurt you when I am with you, that is a promise you can take to the bank and have minted in osmiridium.”
She swallowed but seemed in a better state, her hydraulic grip on his hand loosening, though she didn’t let go of it. They walked forwards and he pushed open the doors into a land of strange excess and neon flashing lights.
He had to stop and stare for a moment, the sight that greeted his eyes was like something out of a holodrama. All around the large brightly lit room were tables arranged around a central stage upon which several large tanks of water sat. It was in these that several slaaveth swam and spiralled around each other in some manner of exotic and fluid dancing. Their gills allowed them to breathe under the oxygenated liquid and their bodies were covered in lines of glittering fluorescent paint and nothing else.
He cleared his throat, while the slaaveth were technically completely naked, their internalised genitalia combined with the clever application of paint at once hid and accentuated their lithe forms. He had to physically move his head to tear his gaze away from the captivating aliens, as he did so he took a second to look around the room. Taking in the other clientele and looking for anything that screamed danger.
Well, he found it. There were so many obvious criminal types in the room he was surprised that the doors were not being knocked down by siege rams and the place flooded with tear gas. Daryon tugged on his hand, getting his attention. She used one of her nine free hands to gesture across the room to what looked like a ragged pile of blankets. Using his cybernetics he was able to get a clearer look through the slightly hazy atmosphere of the room.
Sitting at a nearly concealed round table near the back of the establishment sat a ragged looking skorp drone. He was a bit surprised to see one of the strange insectoids on their own as they were generally known to be quite social. They had evolved from eusocial insects after all, where one could be found, many others often followed.
As he followed her he felt somebody grip his shoulder and turned to see a slim nerivith woman in a bright blue sparkling dress. She gave him an appraising look and licked her lips lavisciously, clearly attempting to undress him with her eyes as she flashed pearly white molars. As the dominant sex of their species, nerivith women tended to be much more forward, but not quite this much so in his experience. He balked slightly as the women pressed both hands against his barrel chest and let out a slight sigh.
“Oh, you are a big one. Look at you. Hey there big boy, what are you doing tonight.” he cocked his head slightly. What in the name of Lady Luck had he been dragged into?
He shook his head and did as Daryon had instructed him earlier and gestured towards her. “Oh, I apologise. I’m actually here with her.” As the woman’s beatific features looked over to Daryon they seemed to twist. Contorting into something much less desirable, her magenta eyes now filled with a look of profound disgust.
The skimpy dress-clad woman shook her horned head and swore, “What the hel, all the good ones are already taken. Have fun then bugfucker.” She spat as she stormed off leaving them alone in the noisy and confusing atmosphere.
Balinski just shook his head in disbelief. Did her routine usually get her better results? He had seen more subtlety from an InfernoTrooper in a room full of hay bales. Daryon just hissed in amusement, “What a complete floozy.”
He nodded, not really sure what else he could say other than that she was right. A little unsettled by the close encounter, he stuck a little closer to Daryon as they finally made their way around the exotic centerpiece and to the rear of the room. As they reached it the ratty old skorp looked up at them and seemed to narrow its vision even with their inexpressive orange compound eyes.
The skorp had a strange body shape compared to most other known sapients. Their bodies were covered in thick chiton plates and arranged in a vaguely centauroid shape with their torso rising from a wide tailless abdomen with six segmented legs. Their four arms were set to their sides and their head sat perched atop a short flexible neck that supported their mandibled head. Their cutting mandibles were small and relatively delicate in comparison to the size of their heads, their reflective compound eyes were very large and seemed to look everywhere at once.
The aged looking alien raised a five fingered hand, the digits sharp and wide. They were clearly evolved to dig through soil, burrowers like the vinarfel. Maybe that was why the two species seemed to get along together so well. He watched as the alien spoke, their mandibles and mouthparts moving subtly as a slightly scratchy voiced wheezed from their throat.
“Now look who came crawling back. This one takes it that you are not back into the field?” The aged alien sounded slightly feminine, but it was almost impossible to tell as the males and female drones looked so impossibly alike. The familiarity in which they spoke to Daryon made him immediately on edge, it wasn't the casual banter of a stranger. But instead it was the knowing smirk of one who knows too much of your past.
Continued In E3:P3
==End of Transmission==
submitted by Frostdraken to HFY [link] [comments]
+ E1:P1 + Episode 3 Start + Next +
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Continued From E3:P1
Balinski walked to the exit with Daryon, the two of them walking in relative silence for the first leg of the journey. As they reached the street level and stepped out onto it he felt an arm on his shoulder. “I think we should be careful how we approach this. I have heard about this place, I knew an older officer who got dispatched here to settle a fight and ended up crippled for life.” her story didn't exactly fill him with dread, he was already crippled for life.
She didn't seem to notice the irony of her statement and instead started to walk off with that strange alien gait of hers. Her many legs seemed to move in waves, pushing her first this way then the other, in this slightly wending manner she advanced along the sidewalk next to him.
They crossed the majority of the space like this before she nudged him. “You are way too sstill, loosssen up. Relax up a little, your possture screamsss cop. You need to sslouch a little, maybe even add ssome ssswagger to your step.”
She seemed to do just as she suggested, adding a slight sway to her upper body as she walked. He just took a breath and tried his best to relax. But it was difficult to do when he knew with a surety that he was walking into a dangerous situation.
With her casual clothing and the light sparkling from her polished blue eyes he had to admit that she made for a striking figure. Her back was colorfully patterned as was typical of the females of her species. The thick plates of her carapace had a thick yellow streak running down the middle with what almost looked like lightning bolts that flared off at each new segment of her back plates. All of this was accentuated with a dull orange highlight that seemed to make the yellow glow all the more spectacular. It made her easily distracting to walk behind and so he hurried to catch up to her side.
She looked his way slightly and he noted the way her antenna rose. She seemed to hiss slightly louder than normal and he got the impression she was stifling a laugh. He grimaced and tried once more to act natural.
They crossed the street and the atmosphere changed as soon as they rounded the next corner. The bright opulence of the garish casinos on the main street were now hidden from view by the much more mundane looking buildings that lined the smaller road. He glanced at a few and realised that many of them seemed to be either abandoned or condemned.
“What is this place? Why does it feel so.. ominous?” He hunched a little.
Daryon just gestured to one of the nearby buildings. “All of thesse were owned by the casinoss a few decadesss ago. But when the current financial downturn happened at the sstart of the rebellion most of them had to closse their doorsss. Ssmall businesss and the entire damn community ripped up by the rootss due to the actionss of that damnable conflict.” She paused, stopping for a moment as she looked full at him.
Several of her hands went to cover her mouth as she apologised to him quickly. “Oh, ssorry. I didn't mean to ssound so disresspectful. I think that combat veteranss are great and all, you did a wonderful thing defending the Union from..” he had to cut her off with an aggressive wave of his hand as he stopped in his tracks and looked at her directly.
He stepped closer to her causing her to back up a pace, she seemed to gasp slightly at the anger that flared in his eye. Her spiracle lungs sucking in a large intake of breath from the many small breathing holes along her lower sides.
She was nearly backed into the nearby wall as he spoke, “Protecting from what! From the damn overbearing bureaucracy of our own corrupt congress? Or are you referring to those genocidal maniacs that c-call themselves the true patriots. They all make me sick in my mind, Daryon.”
He stopped and took a deep calming breath. He looked down at his hands which had balled into fists at his sides, they were shaking and he realised with a jolt just how close he was standing to the large vinarfelien. His chest was inches from hers and her body language suggested less fear and more confusion.
He unclenched his hands as he turned away and put them on his head. He tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. Without turning he began, “I-I.. I’m sorry, Daryon. You didn’t deserve that. I just.. I can’t talk about the war, the things I saw. The things we did?” Balinski found himself shivering slightly.
‘No, not now.’ He thought to himself desperately as he felt the beginnings of panic seeping into his mind.
As he was afraid he might lose his grip on reality he felt something brush against the back of his head slightly. Before he could really think about it he felt a strong hand on his shoulder as Daryon moved to stand by his side. Her long body trailed behind him out of sight still, but the raised forward third of her body was nearly the same height as he.
She seemed to scrutinise him for a moment before she too apologised. “I ssee that I have upsset you. I apologise as it was not my intention to do sso. I can see that the war took itsss toll out of both your body and mind. I can undersstand having painful memoriesss that you wissh would just go away. But the harder you try and let them go the more they seem to grow like a cancer in your memoriess.” She paused, it had sounded as if she were going to say more but stopped short.
He wanted to ask her to elaborate but found that he didn't have the will. She removed her hand as he stood still, he sucked in a breath. “Maybe.” That was all he said. It was all he had to.
Without a word he turned and started towards their destination. She caught up with him and they continued walking, he felt a little awkward. He rarely lost his temper, at least on friends and people he respected. He glanced at the tall centipoid alien, he did indeed consider the woman as his friend. One of his few friends that he could reliably count on.
He rubbed his shoulder as a strange tingle seemed to seep through the joint, he cleared his throat to get her attention and then spoke softly. “Daryon? I wanted to apologise. I shouldn't have shouted at you, it wasn't fair to you. Would you accept my apology?”
She seemed a little curious, her insectoid head cocking ever so slightly as she gazed up at his face. Her antennae twitched, a symphony of emotions played out over that rigid, chitinous face of hers before she responded to him. When she did her voice seemed a little lower than usual, “Yess, Balinsski. And I too apologise for talking about.. what I talked about. I was told by Ssiyel that mentioning certain articless from your passt might bring you pain. I am sssorry for not listening to her advice, I accept your apology. Would you accept mine?” He looked at her curiously as she finished speaking.
He looked into that strange alien face and saw no animosity at all. Her faceplates cracked apart slightly as she waited for his response. “Yea. I do.” Was all he muttered.
She smiled, her antennae popping up slightly. With her rigid faceplates and lack of movable facial features she expressed her emotions differently. Not so differently that he couldn't tell in general how she was feeling. All social creatures discovered by the Union so far had physical social cues. Even the crystalline jeseo with their hard bodies made of living superconductor often used their manipulator tendrils to accentuate or punctuate their electronic speech.
He reached out and gave her shoulder a slap after the thought, “Alright. Now that we are back on the same page what say you we knock some heads.” She raised a hand in what looked like a contemplative gesture. He grinned, “A figure of speech is all it was.”
Daryon seemed to settle, her burning comment assuaged. They reached a hole in the wall alley and she put out an arm and looked around. Leaning close she hissed, “Alright. Walk around thiss corner and we are at the bar. Act natural.”
Balinski glanced down at himself and asked, “And how am I supposed to act? Like a private military contractor?”
The comment was disingenuous, he knew, but he wasn’t sure how to voice his concerns to her without sounding as inexperienced as he was. He wasn't a private eye detective like in the stories, he was a void warden. As close as one could get to a hired gun while still being legally able to work with law enforcement.
She looked around again and then hissed in mild frustration. “I don’t know? Act like my boyfriend then, let me do the talking. I have done thiss before, clearly you haven't.”
The annoyed tone in which she spoke made what she had said go over the top of his head for a few seconds before he realised exactly what she had just said. “Be your what? What do you mean?” He looked at the alien woman, his remaining eyebrow raised in mild confusion. He tried to think what that meant he was supposed to do, what was being her boyfriend even supposed to look like. He had never dated an alien before, especially not one so different physically from himself.
He saw her throw up a few arms and mutter. “Men.” She turned and gestured to the alley, “Jusst walk with me and forget what I ssaid. Let me do the talking and if anyone asksss you why you are here jusst tell them that you are with me. Alright?” She placed all four lower hands on the sides of her torso, the closest thing she had to hips.
Balinski frowned slightly, he didn’t like not being in charge of the situation. But in light of her experience was forced to be on the back foot. It wasn’t all bad at least he thought to himself as they started around the corner. Daryon seemed to know what she was doing, of course delta force operatives were recruited from other field operations and he had to take a moment to wonder what department she had been recruited from.
There was no further time to dwell on the idea as they walked down the strangely clean and well maintained alley. The dark and water stained brickwork of the surrounding buildings met the cracked concrete of the alley at crisp right angles, the dark city-plate above was as dark as the night sky overhead. The profusion of trash and general debris one might have expected from such a gloomy place was conspicuously absent. They soon reached a recessed area where a couple of very burly looking Yeown females in skin-tight padded fighting gear stood with their backs leaning on the wall. They were flanking a nondescript black door, the kind with the heavy blast visor that could be slid back to look through it.
The one on the left had a dark red scar across her face that ran from her left eye diagonally to the corner of her short muzzle-like jaw. Her fur was a pale, almost silvery white and her eyes glinted like polished blue gemstones in the dim light of the alley.
She took a heavy step forwards, her powerful predator muscles swimming beneath her thin fur like waves under her skin. She spoke in a thin growl, not overtly hostile but dripping with barely veiled aggression. “Stop right there. You two don't look familiar to me, and I hate talking to strangers. State your purpose here!” Balinski was at once taken aback and a little relieved. He was expecting the bar to be some run down bait shot, this looked more like the entrance to a private club.
Daryon motioned to the yeown and spoke boisterously, her entire demeanour changed as her normally sharp manner became loose and almost bawdy. Her voice was different too, a salacious tone hissing along with her slippery words that made his shoulders prickle uncomfortably. “Ah, hello there ladies. I was referred to this reputable establishment by a Mr. Encore. I am sure you have heard the name?”
The woman that had spoken took a step back and glanced to her companion nervously. The other yeown now flicked away the small toothpick she had been chewing on and growled, “And what makes you think that some cocked up streetwalker such as yourself is savvy enough to know a hard ass like that?”
Balinski looked at the second yeown, they seemed a little more subdued. Their cream colored fur was streaked with russet stripes and their eyes seemed somehow older. He glanced at Daryon and she spoke up once more. This time adding a little bit of sass to her tone now.
She swayed from side to side slightly, her ten arms punctuating her movements as she gestured animatedly, “Who are you calling streetwalker you two ton burrowraiding carrot-muncher. I may not have such a reputable job as yours, standing next to a door.” She punctuated it with a small dismissive flick as if the very thought made her sick. “But I do my job well and I love it. Don’t I, dear?” The furry alien’s canine-like features narrowed in anger at the insult, her bright green eyes flashing dangerously.
She reached over and tapped his shoulder, he suddenly realised that everyone’s attention was on him and he felt a trickle of sweat roll down the back of his neck from the sudden pressure. He cleared his throat and tried to act as casual as he could. He wasn’t really sure what was happening but he had a suspicion. “Oh, yeah. She is the best, at.. ya know..”
Silence. Both the yeown were now staring at him suspiciously. He tensed slightly, getting ready to throw hands if he needed too. Before it came to blows, Daryon spoke up once more. This time her voice took on a more conspiratorial tone and she covered her face with a hand in his direction, as if she were trying to speak without him hearing. He pretended not to hear even though his cybernetic implants easily picked up on the woman’s speech.
“He is one of the big man’s new projects. Still in the original packaging if you get my meaning.” She muttered.
The first yeown smiled wide, her sharp teeth glinting in the light as she seemed to appraise him with a practiced eye. He shifted a little, suddenly a touch uncomfortable due to the scrutiny. She licked her lips slightly and cackled, “Yes, I see. He’s a mere stripling, not even taken first overnight watch at the den of another.”
Balinski frowned at that. He wasn't all the way up to speed on vague yeown euphemisms, but that had sounded distinctly like she had just called him a virgin. The second woman chuckled at the other’s comment and then raised a hand for quiet. “Alright brightscales. I am doing you a favor, when you are done with him feel free to send big boy here our way. I am sure we could show him a thing or two even you haven’t thought of.”
As the scarred yeown laughed again the other banged on the door four times in rapid succession. A moment later the armored slit slid open and a pair of glowing eyes looked out. A wholly inhuman voice seemed to speak from the recess, “What is it. You have guests?”
The yeown growled, “Yes, why else would I be banging on the door like that?”
The synthetic voice answered without a seconds delay, “It is possible that you wanted to talk, I don't have anybody to talk to in here.”
The second yeown palmed her eyes in muted frustration as she muttered, “In the name of Frine, I swear..” She spoke up louder now, “Just open the fuzzing door you maladroit fart breather.
The glowing eyes seemed to grumble as they disappeared and the visor shut. The yeown that had spoken turned and let out a loud huffing sigh. “I really hate that guy. What an absolute asswipe, right Terri?” She nudged her companion whose name seemed to be Terri.
Terri shrugged her shoulders and then cocked her head and seemed to frown. “He isn’t all that bad, you don't always have to be so mean to him.”
The older yeown growled in annoyance and seemed about to rebuke Terri but was stopped as the door opened and an inhumanly tall figure gestured to them to enter. Balinski’s eyes widened as he saw them.
Daryon stepped forwards and nodded to them politely, Balinski followed directly after as the two yeown started to argue with each other. The figure was tall, likely more than a meter taller than nis own two-hundred-and-one centimeters and covered in a strange suit. It had the obvious bulk of exoskeletal supports as well as a large powered backpack that looked to be some sort of atmospheric condensing unit. He realised what it was at the same time he recognised the species, it was an umraghj wearing an environmental compensation unit.
The ECU suit hissed and whirred slightly as the tall, thin figure gestured towards the hallway they were already in. “Just go-on down that way and you can't miss it. Thanks for coming.” they said sadly.
Balinski was ready to go but Daryon stopped him as she turned and stepped closer to the sad looking umraghj. He was pressed back, he couldn't help but feel like she was getting back at him for his earlier actions as he had nowhere to go. The door had been closed and he wasn’t going to step into the door tender’s personal space, so his only option was to stand as far from Daryon as he politely could.
The vinarfelien woman gestured for the umraghj to lean down, which they did. “What’ss your name?” She asked them.
They responded slowly, their synthetic voice making it a little hard to hear the inflection in their tone. “My name? It is Dunmec ma’am. Begging your pardon, but why do you care? I’m just the door watcher.”
She raised a few hands and gestured towards the door. “Nothing wrong with that Dunmec, I have watched more than a few doors in my time. One of her antennae flicked, she continued. “I wass curiousss about what'ss going on between you and Terri?”
Balinski watched as the suited figure’s body language immediately changed. They went from slightly hunched and drawn into themselves to standing straight and looking for all intents and purposes as if they had just eaten something incredibly sour. Their face was only just visible through the visor they wore, and the slightly bovine features he could see looked to be fully taken aback by the vinarfelien woman’s comment.
Dunmec looked around quickly, a deep sucking breath coming from their speakers as they failed to conceal their shock. “H-how did you, what do you mean?” Balinski smiled as he realised what she was doing.
Daryon gestured again and spoke even lower, once more causing the figure to have to stoop towards her. This time they slumped not in dejected misery, but in a near conspiratorial slouch that was strangely at odds with the way they spoke. She stated clearly, “Well, it iss incredibly obvious that sshe feelsss ssome sort of way for you. The way sshe sspoke out in your defensse against her sssuperior..”
Dunmec nodded. “Her older sister, Missy. She hates me, calls me weak and clawless. She is the worst kind of bully, the kind that makes the ones you love dependent upon their cruelty.” he didn't seem to be looking at either of them anymore. The poor lovestruck fool was caught in his own world.
Daryon shook her head. “And yet when Terri heard her insssult you sshe stepped in to defy her ssissster. That has to count for ssomething, otherwisse what would be the point of ssaying what sshe sssaid.”
The alien man looked a bit more interested now. He leaned forwards a little more as he asked in his quiet partially synthetic voice, “What did she say.. about me? What do I do?”
Daryon seemed to glance at Balinski now, her head movement so fast and subtle that he thought he may have missed it. But no, she had indeed been telling him something.
Balinski stepped a little closer as he took the cue, his chest practically pressing into Daryon’s side as he offered his own advice. “You should go and talk to her, man. Show her your inner strength, stand up to her sister. I can guarantee you that if you do that she will come to you, protect you even I am willing to bet.” Daryon gave him a small head nod, she realised that he had seen through her plan and seemed pleased that he had picked up on it so fast.
Playing matchmaker seemed like a general distraction to their mission, but it would be helpful to have the ear of the man guarding the only known exit to the building should they get into a spot of trouble. And fate seemed to have put the perfect idiot into their path. Balinski smiled, for what it was worth, he hoped it went well for the guy. Balinski hadn’t seen any other umraghj in Cheenha before, much less another receptive female. They were the least populous species in the Union after the jeseo after all.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and saw that the tall alien had placed a hand on both of their shoulders. His demeanour had changed and he puffed out his scrawny looking chest as he thanked them in a much more confident voice, “I will do it. What’s the worst that could happen, and she did seem very nice to me the other day when we met in the breakroom for lunch..” they pondered and then took a step back. “Thank you for that, now move along, don’t let my problems keep you from enjoying yourselves.”
Dunmec waved them through to which they gratefully complied. As they moved out of sight of the tall, suited alien Daryon nudged his arm. “Good work, I wasn’t ssure you were going to pick up on that.”
He just gave her a little half smile. “Yeah, playing matchmaker was a little bit of a surprise, but after you started talking I figured it out as you pointed out.” She smirked in her own way, faceplates cracking slightly as they made their way around a corner.
The music he had heard upon first entering the building grew in volume and power till he could almost feel it in his bones. Daryon seemed similarly affected, the woman slowing and seeming to cringe inwards. He stopped and looked at her, “Are you alright, Daryon?”
She shook her upper body slightly and covered her eyes with her two upper hands. “Yea, just.. g-give me a ssecond.” He could hear her take a deep breath, the spiracles along the sides of her body sucking in a rush of air. She covered her eyes and looked at him directly. “I have bad memoriess of places like thiss. Promisse you won't leave me alone in here?”
He nodded instantly, he could immediately recognise the look of somebody in deep emotional distress. He did the only thing he could think of, he reached out and took one of her hands in his. Holding it tightly he felt her squeeze his hand in return. It was a damn good thing his fingers were made of alloy as she might have broken them otherwise.
Balinski gave her a small smile. “Never, we are partners right? We need to look out for each other.” He didn't miss the way her mouth opened slightly or the way her body seemed to draw slightly towards him. Maybe it was the trauma speaking, but she needed his help and he would support her like Caesar normally supported him to the best of his own ability.
The thing about it was, he wasn’t entirely sure he could. He had a suspicion about her recent behaviour towards him, ever since what she had told him at the memorial. He shook the thoughts from his mind as he stepped forwards and around the corner.
At the end of a short hall was a set of double doors, the small windows on them flashing brightly with multicolored lights as some manner of club music leaked through the gaps between them and the wall. So the Slimehut wasn’t just some dingy bar, it was an entire underground club. He glanced at Daryon, her hand still tightly wrapped around his own. He wasn’t sure he could have pried her inhuman strong grip loose with a pry bar at that point. What must have happened to her to make her so apprehensive, she didn’t seem afraid. He had never seen her look afraid, but he did indeed understand the bone weakening uncertainty that having one’s reality crushed brings.
So he stood tall and straight as he gave her a final nod. “We got this Daryon, don't you worry. Nobody is going to hurt you when I am with you, that is a promise you can take to the bank and have minted in osmiridium.”
She swallowed but seemed in a better state, her hydraulic grip on his hand loosening, though she didn’t let go of it. They walked forwards and he pushed open the doors into a land of strange excess and neon flashing lights.
He had to stop and stare for a moment, the sight that greeted his eyes was like something out of a holodrama. All around the large brightly lit room were tables arranged around a central stage upon which several large tanks of water sat. It was in these that several slaaveth swam and spiralled around each other in some manner of exotic and fluid dancing. Their gills allowed them to breathe under the oxygenated liquid and their bodies were covered in lines of glittering fluorescent paint and nothing else.
He cleared his throat, while the slaaveth were technically completely naked, their internalised genitalia combined with the clever application of paint at once hid and accentuated their lithe forms. He had to physically move his head to tear his gaze away from the captivating aliens, as he did so he took a second to look around the room. Taking in the other clientele and looking for anything that screamed danger.
Well, he found it. There were so many obvious criminal types in the room he was surprised that the doors were not being knocked down by siege rams and the place flooded with tear gas. Daryon tugged on his hand, getting his attention. She used one of her nine free hands to gesture across the room to what looked like a ragged pile of blankets. Using his cybernetics he was able to get a clearer look through the slightly hazy atmosphere of the room.
Sitting at a nearly concealed round table near the back of the establishment sat a ragged looking skorp drone. He was a bit surprised to see one of the strange insectoids on their own as they were generally known to be quite social. They had evolved from eusocial insects after all, where one could be found, many others often followed.
As he followed her he felt somebody grip his shoulder and turned to see a slim nerivith woman in a bright blue sparkling dress. She gave him an appraising look and licked her lips lavisciously, clearly attempting to undress him with her eyes as she flashed pearly white molars. As the dominant sex of their species, nerivith women tended to be much more forward, but not quite this much so in his experience. He balked slightly as the women pressed both hands against his barrel chest and let out a slight sigh.
“Oh, you are a big one. Look at you. Hey there big boy, what are you doing tonight.” he cocked his head slightly. What in the name of Lady Luck had he been dragged into?
He shook his head and did as Daryon had instructed him earlier and gestured towards her. “Oh, I apologise. I’m actually here with her.” As the woman’s beatific features looked over to Daryon they seemed to twist. Contorting into something much less desirable, her magenta eyes now filled with a look of profound disgust.
The skimpy dress-clad woman shook her horned head and swore, “What the hel, all the good ones are already taken. Have fun then bugfucker.” She spat as she stormed off leaving them alone in the noisy and confusing atmosphere.
Balinski just shook his head in disbelief. Did her routine usually get her better results? He had seen more subtlety from an InfernoTrooper in a room full of hay bales. Daryon just hissed in amusement, “What a complete floozy.”
He nodded, not really sure what else he could say other than that she was right. A little unsettled by the close encounter, he stuck a little closer to Daryon as they finally made their way around the exotic centerpiece and to the rear of the room. As they reached it the ratty old skorp looked up at them and seemed to narrow its vision even with their inexpressive orange compound eyes.
The skorp had a strange body shape compared to most other known sapients. Their bodies were covered in thick chiton plates and arranged in a vaguely centauroid shape with their torso rising from a wide tailless abdomen with six segmented legs. Their four arms were set to their sides and their head sat perched atop a short flexible neck that supported their mandibled head. Their cutting mandibles were small and relatively delicate in comparison to the size of their heads, their reflective compound eyes were very large and seemed to look everywhere at once.
The aged looking alien raised a five fingered hand, the digits sharp and wide. They were clearly evolved to dig through soil, burrowers like the vinarfel. Maybe that was why the two species seemed to get along together so well. He watched as the alien spoke, their mandibles and mouthparts moving subtly as a slightly scratchy voiced wheezed from their throat.
“Now look who came crawling back. This one takes it that you are not back into the field?” The aged alien sounded slightly feminine, but it was almost impossible to tell as the males and female drones looked so impossibly alike. The familiarity in which they spoke to Daryon made him immediately on edge, it wasn't the casual banter of a stranger. But instead it was the knowing smirk of one who knows too much of your past.
Continued In E3:P3
==End of Transmission==
2024.05.05 16:53 LaughingTarget Intragalactic Pet and Garden Show Part 2
Pt. 1 Here
After five years, Milek thought she’d be used to this by now. Frozen stiff from fear, she watched the massive brown avian soar through the rafters in the arena.
After Arthur brought his King Charles Spaniel, Milek thought she had seen the worst the Human home world, a place called Earth, had to offer. The next year, his wife, Emily, showed up with something even more horrifying.
When that gigantic beast, easily five times larger than the previous one, lumbered into the arena, it caused a wave of fear so intense that a few species even broke out of their freeze instinct and ran. Ran! That’s the worst thing to do with a predator.
Yet the shaggy grey animal was just as well behaved as the one Arthur brought along. Of course, that is well behaved by Human standards. When Emily released a robotic version of a local animal called a deer, the arena was fascinated. Until the massive beast suddenly turn into the vicious predator everyone feared it was.
With a simple command from Emily, the gigantic predator immediately began chasing down the robotic deer. The bulky beast herded and maneuvered the robot until it took it down with a nip to the legs. Emily then gave a second command and the large animal immediately ceased the attack and reverted back to its, oddly, unassuming demeanor.
This was the first time that Milek got a good idea of how dominant the Humans were on their world. Screwing up her courage, she and Fessin went to introduce themselves just like they had with her husband the year prior.
She proved just as friendly, and oddly apologetic, as Arthur. This time, Milek and Fessin were invited to interact with the dog. Milek had a powerful conflict between curiosity and survival brewing at the time. Curiosity won out, barely, and she agreed to meet the predator.
The dog, the Irish Wolfhound, proved friendly and gentle. The animal had an unusually calm demeanor around potential prey. Yet she knew from the display that aggression could be triggered at any time. Emily explained that they have nothing to worry about, so long as they don’t threaten the dog’s family. Not that Emily had to worry about that in the galactic community.
That was also a controversial year. Like the year before, the judges decided to disregard the performance and awarded Fessin the first prize while Milek took second. Fessin was so outraged by the bias that he marched off the podium, dragged Emily over and handed the winning ribbon to her himself.
It would have also been the first year that a single entrant won both first AND second place with the same animal since Milek was ready to do the same. When the two most popular entrants in the IPGS rebelled, the judges listened and decided that a “technical error” in the voting software caused a mixup.
Still, even after learning that Earth’s predators could be impressive allies, Milek couldn’t shake millions of years of evolutionary instinct.
The avian, introduced by the trainer as a Golden Eagle, peered down over the crowd with eyes that looked like they could see for eternity. The trainer had set up a field of holographic grasses on the floor and let loose a robotic animal referred to as a hare.
The bird circled above, scanning the simulated grass below. Then a subtle shift in the grass gave away the presence of the robotic hare and the bird went into action.
Pulling in its wings, it dove down, picking up speed before flying low to the ground. The hare ran from the bird. Flapping to keep up its speed, the eagle skimmed the tips of the holographic grass as it rapidly closed the distance.
Then it extended its long black talons protruding from the ends of its bright yellow reptilian feet, stabbing them into the hare. The hare quickly ceased movement and the eagle ripped into the robot with a long, sharp beak, puncturing into the compartment that held the animal’s reward.
After consuming the meat, the bird flapped up into the air with a mighty pump of its wings before circling back toward the Human. The bird then landed on the Human’s outstretched arm, perching on a thick protective glove.
The Human gave a small bow, which the bird mimicked with outstretched wings. The Human was wearing an unusual garb made out of animal furs and skins. This was also disturbing to Milek, yet she held her opinion since it was the traditional cultural garb of a place on Earth called Mongolia, where training of these large predators dated back generations.
Milek ended up taking second this year behind the Human with Fessin in the third position. It was eight years since neither of them ended up on the top of the winner’s podium. Still, Milek wasn’t upset. The Humans bringing in fresh competition improved her game. Even though she placed second, she felt that her presentation was the best it has ever been.
The golden eagle deserved the win. Humanity had displayed a positively gargantuan avian predator for everyone to see. Milek later learned that, of course, it didn’t even rank in the top ten largest avian predators on Earth. The Humans have a penchant for surprises.
After the completion of the ceremony, Milek went to Fessin. “Hey, want to go check out the Garden displays? It’s been a while since we browsed it and I hear a Human finally opened a booth this year.”
“That sounds good,” Fessin replied. “Maybe their plants are just as unbelievable as their animals.”
Both shared a laugh at that. Surely, plant life couldn’t be hostile and deadly. It was food.
The pair moved through an airlock that led to a different part of the competition station.
Humans joining the IPGS caused a large number of rapid changes.
The biggest change was the venue was moved from rotating planet side arenas to a space station that the IPGS purchased second-hand from a failed concert promoter. They would tow it to the same planets and operate the show in orbit as opposed to on the ground.
The reason for this was two-fold. First, the number of spectators had quadrupled since the Irish Wolfhound showing. People wanted to get a better understanding of the fauna of Earth yet none of the species could survive the crushing gravity of the planet. The IPGS was the perfect place to observe the native wildlife of a planet that was otherwise impossible to visit. The problem was, the arenas the IPGS had on contract weren’t large enough for such crowds and it caused issues with ticket scalping.
Second was also related to the gravity. Because of the high gravity, many of the animals struggled to function properly in normal gravity environments. The two human entrants in the third year reported their animals were distressed when trying to move in the low gravity and it undermined the performance. One had brought along an animal called a horse and the gravity was interfering with the animal so badly that the human withdrew before the individual competition.
With a station, both problems were addressed. The station was able to handle the far larger crowds and it had it could dynamically alter the gravity of the competition floor. Of course, the gravity manipulator had to be special ordered since no one had designed one to generate that kind of force.
Without the proper gravity, the golden eagle wouldn’t have been able to display its terrifying hunting prowess.
A few other changes were made as well. A big one was the use of robotic animals. While Emily introduced the robotic deer, there weren’t any rules on the subject until the other Human in the third year created the new rule.
Milek thought that Human brought along a relatively normal animal to display. It was a creature called a rat. It was a small, dark grey-haired animal with a long, hairless tail. The Human also had carted out a large glass container behind it filled with rocks and artificial plants.
The crowd was intrigued by what the rat would do. The Human dropped it into the tank and all the rat did was wander around. Everyone found it disappointing.
That is until it caused the Mass Fainting. What Milek had initially thought was a large vine suddenly snapped out. The vine opened a mouth and began wrapping around the rat. The rat squealed loudly before it went silent. The vine tightened more and more as the rat struggled in silence before finally expiring.
Then the vine twisted around and consumed the rat by swallowing it whole. It turns out that it wasn’t a vine but a long animal the Humans referred to as a snake. In particular, a ball python.
Which, of course, is also not the largest of that particular class of animal on Earth, either.
The IPGS promptly banned harming live animals even before the judges had time to wake up.
The fourth year also had a new, Human derived rule. That year, a few entrants had shown up. By this point, the IPGS and its regulars had become somewhat used to the bizarre predators that the Humans were prone to entering.
That year, three Humans had arrived. One brought the most positively normal animal yet, a colorful avian called a parrot. It wasn’t, to Milek’s relief, a secret predator that would suck out blood from small cuts in the night. She couldn’t imagine such an animal ever existing, though she was sure some Human would bring one along at some point. No, the parrot only did something else bizarre - talking.
The second brought along a tiny predator known as a house cat. This was the first time Milek ever saw a predator that she wasn’t utterly terrified by upon first glance. It was, dare she say, cute. She loved the way it let out a low, comforting rumble. At least it was until the Human dangled a simulated mouse in front of it and a set of sharp claws deployed. The only solace was the fact the predator was so small it wouldn't be lethal to the galactic races.
It was the third Human that caused the rule change. And it was the Humans who suggested it to restrict entry to a list of animals that had to be excluded for safety. It was a long list and, oddly, even included herbivores like an animal called a hippopotamus. Milek also learned in that moment that if the Humans are concerned about something, listen.
The third Human brought along a much larger animal that Milek initially confused as a bigger house cat. The cat had a coat patterned with orange and black stripes with a few white accents along the face and underbelly. It was pulled along by a rope, like Arthur and Emily had done with their dogs, by a man with a weird blue coat in the same stripe pattern as the animal and had a hairstyle the archives called a “mullet”.
The other two Humans immediately alerted and informed the IPGS that the third Human, along with his animal, which they called a tiger, should be removed from the premises at once. Apparently, even Earth had predators the Humans couldn’t tame. The immense beast was one of them and it had a high probability of causing damage.
The Human with the tiger was eventually ejected, not without a significant amount of argument from the Human claiming he was some sort of tiger royalty.
After that was dealt with, Milek also got her first dose of unusual Human humor. When the tiger and its owner finally left, the Human with the parrot commented that tigers weren’t from some place called Africa. The other replied that it must be two humans in a suit. The two shared a laugh. Then the Human with the cat accused the human with the parrot that his parrot was deceased. Milek was confused why this was funny because the parrot was very clearly living.
Milek and Fessin stepped through the second airlock into a large atrium. Warm and humid, Milek flexed her outer chitin and enjoyed the warmth. It reminded her of her home world.
Looking on the tablet, Milek found the booth the Human had set up. “Looks like it’s at the other end of the venue.”
“I could use the exercise,” Fessin said. “Oh, by the way, I got a message from Arthur. He says if the Human offers up something called a pepper, turn it down. Apparently they think its funny when a new species tries one. Supposedly they cause significant distress both going in and coming out.”
“And the Humans eat this stuff?” Milek said, aghast.
Fessin snorted at the absurdity of it. “All the time. Voluntarily.”
Milek shook her head as she and Fessin browsed the garden show. The Garden hall was far bigger than the Pet Show arena. While most of the spectators came for the Pet Show, they stayed for the food.
Milek looked at the rows upon rows of different stations displaying the local plant life from across the galaxy. Her mouth watered as her eyes scanned over tasty looking vines or sumptuous purple flowers. Her 360 degree vision was nearly overloaded by the glorious bounty arrayed in the massive space.
Slapping her head, she remembered her mission. She was going to save her credits, and appetite, to get her first taste of Earth’s offerings. Luckily, the Humans were omnivores, so they enjoyed plants just as much as a good herbivore did.
Milek and Fessin both struggled as they moved through the Garden Show. Each new booth tempted them to try their food. Tubers, berries and nuts galore.
Then there was a strange break in the crowd. Looking ahead, Milek saw the Human’s booth. It was empty.
Moving closer, she saw a bored looking Human sitting on a metal folding chair. The small Human, a woman, was dressed in a brown robe with an embroidered garment covering her shoulders in the same color. Perched upon her head was a brown hat which had a round brim and had a cone jutting out of the top. The hat looked like it was one size too small for her head yet still managed to perch on the top.
Facing her tablet at the woman, Milek tried to get an idea of what the apparel was called. Nothing returned.
Curiously, the pair approached. Each table held, like many others, an array of amazingly appetizing plants. Vines, purple flowers, red flowers and more. There was also a section with strange plants that looked like water pitchers and one that had the weird appearance of having teeth. Milek noticed that the tables had little signs all over them. “For Display Only. Not for Consumption.”
The Human looked up and smiled, briefly flashing teeth before her mouth closed. “Welcome to Sprout’s Sprouts!”
Milek had a number of questions bouncing around in her mind. The first one popped out. “Can you tell me what your garment is called? I’m not getting anything from the database.”
The woman looked down at herself. “Oh? This thing? I can understand. It’s a pop culture reference I’m a fan of. Those haven’t been loaded up to the galactic network. It’s a big file. This is a robe and hat from a book series about a magical school I enjoy. The character a herbology teacher, which inspired me into becoming a horticulturalist.”
“Fiction is an important part of development,” Milek agreed. “So, why do you have all these signs everywhere?”
The Human gave a sheepish look. “I misunderstood what a Garden Show was. I thought it was to show off plants. I didn’t think it would be a food court. I can’t sell any of those because you may mistakenly eat it.”
Fessin cocked his head and looked over the plants on display. He laid his eyes on a sumptuous looking red one. “Do they just grow too slow to sell? What’s wrong with this one? It looks flavorful.”
“That one? It’s a rose. They’re not particularly difficult to grow. The hips can be consumed. However, take a closer look at that one,” the woman said.
Fessin leaned in and gasped. “The thing has teeth on it!”
Milek leaned in close to see what Fessin was talking about it. Sure enough, up and down the stem was a series of little sharp teeth sticking out of it.
“Those are called thorns,” the woman explained. “Unless you carefully cut those off, you can shred your insides. They also aren’t particularly nutritious.”
Milek blanched. That was insidious. Why would a plant want to hurt an animal? Presenting segments to eat was an important part of the reproductive cycle.
Fessin pointed at a different red flower. “And this one?”
“That’s a poinsettia. They’re toxic and, while not lethal, cause gastrointestinal distress,” the woman explained.
“And this one?” Milek asked, pointing at a plant with green leaves growing black colored berries.
“Balladona, that one is toxic enough to kill you.”
Milek was happy that the other species couldn’t visit Earth. If they did, most of them would be deceased the moment they passed a tantalizing bush outside the spaceport.
“So you didn’t bring anything to eat?” Fessin asked bluntly.
“Oh, I did,” the woman replied.
Milek smiled. “Can we take a look?”
“Sure. Unfortunately, I don’t have much, security wouldn’t let me bring most of it on the station,” the woman said as she pulled a wood box out from under one of the tables.
Milek knew she would regret asking, but she did anyway. “Why couldn’t you bring in the food?”
“So, apparently a lot of our food contains harmful substances. In sufficient quantity, they’re harmful to us, but it’s present in such low quantities, to us anyway, that it’s not a big deal.”
The woman started arranging a number of different items on the table. There was a flat green vegetable with little lumps under the surface, a small box of red berries and another small box with blue colored berries.
The woman then took out a tablet and touched it a few times. The picture of a red fruit came on the screen. “This, for instance, is an apple. It’s a common fruit we enjoy throughout the day. The problem is the seeds contain a substance called arsenic. Humans would have to crush up a large handful of the seeds to have an effect, so we can safely eat the whole thing, including the core, even though that’s not common. It is, however, lethal to you guys out here. It’s also present in citrus fruit, pears and grapes.”
She swiped her finger on the screen and a new picture popped up, this time of a yellow curved tube. “This is a banana. They contain potassium, which is important to the Human nervous system. They’re also mildly radioactive.”
The woman swiped the screen again. A variety of nuts came up. Milek’s mouth watered. She loved nuts. “These are various nuts. Almonds contain cyanide, which is a potent lethal compound. It’s in small enough quantities that the cultivated ones are safe, though we have to be careful with the wild ones. Even so much as 10 can kill a child.”
Milek sighed in disappointment that these nuts couldn’t be consumed. Which only got worse when the woman kept talking. “Other kinds of nuts can cause major anaphylactic shock episodes, including in a small subset of the Human population. They usually have to be careful and read warnings that something may contain nuts.”
Another picture of a different nut came up, this time with a two-segment shell. “This is called a peanut, though the name is deceptive since it’s a different class of plant called a legume. It can also be lethal, so I left them behind.”
“I think I heard enough,” Milek said, sad that Earth produced such impressive looking vegetables, fruit and nuts that couldn’t be consumed. “What about these?”
The woman pointed to the items in turn. “The green ones are snow peas. The red ones are raspberries. The blue ones are, creatively, blueberries. They have their own little quirks, though your security didn’t trigger them as toxic.”
Milek and Fessin looked at each other. Even with little quirks that passed security, they wondered if they could risk trying the fare.
The woman recognized the look. “Hey, I understand your hesitation after that big disclosure. Just because the security guys cleared it doesn’t make you feel comfortable.”
Fessin sighed. “You know what? I think I’ll give it a try. It would be rude not to. Maybe the red one.”
“First bite’s free,” the woman said, holding the box up.
Fessin gingerly gripped one of the red berries in his upper left arm and studied it. Milek looked down at the berry that had multiple small bulbous spheres attached in a rough cone shape with a hollow center. Taking a deep breath, Fessin popped it into his mouth.
His expression then lit up. “Wow! This is amazing! The sweetness exploded out of the fruit and is dancing on my tongue.”
Intrigued, Milek gestured at the green one. The woman handed it up.
Biting in, the plant snapped and sent back an unusual sensation. She found the crunchy exterior and soft interior balls a wonderful combination.
“Snow peas,” the woman explained. “There’s another version called a snap pea that makes a more satisfying pop, though I didn’t bring any of those along.”
The third fruit, the blueberry, was just as incredible. Milek ended up buying a box of the snap peas while Fessin took a box of raspberries.
As they chewed their treats, Milek pointed to a different table, “What are those?”
The woman turned and looked. “Ah, those are my carnivorous plants.”
Milek and Fessin both stopped mid-chew. Did they just hear the Human correctly? Carnivorous plants.
“I think the translator may be acting up,” Fessin replied. “Did you mean carnival plants?”
“No, carnivorous is right. These plants eat other things,” the woman explained, pride in her voice.
Milek and Fessin both took a big step away from the table. They were flabbergasted this Human casually sat by plants that could reach out and eat her.
The woman chuckled. “No, not like that. The biggest one out there can eat a rat and none of them are harmful to larger organisms. They mostly consume smaller insects. Here, have a look.”
The woman pulled out a different box and extracted a small wriggling worm thing. Milek looked at it with disgust. They reminded her of her people’s larval stage, though it was significantly smaller. “Didn’t the IPGS ban live demonstrations?”
The woman paused and looked at the worm. “Oh, sorry. Yea, I had to get an exception. These things are such low order lifeforms that we’re not even sure they feel pain. Insects on our world are barely above simple machines. The IPGS gave me an exception for this.”
That didn’t make Milek feel much better. It was like watching the Human feed her kids to a plant, which was entirely the opposite of what nature intended. Still, it wasn’t her place to question how the biology of another world functioned and watched.
The woman first took a small worm and placed it into the open folds of the plant with teeth. It contacted tiny hairs inside and the outer walls snapped shut, trapping the worm inside. “This is a venus flytrap. They activate when two of the small hairs inside their open mouths are triggered within a close timeframe. When closed, they secrete digestive enzymes that consume the trapped insect. They’re difficult to grow and require a proper soil acidity to thrive.”
She extracted a second worm, making Milek feel slightly nauseous. The Human then went over to a plant with long stalks that had a series of red hairs sticking out of it. At the end of the red hairs were small clear balls. The woman put the worm in one of the red hairs and released it, leaving it stuck to the plant. The plant then folded in on itself, trapping the worm in a coil. “This is commonly called a sundew. The plant sticks to its prey and wraps it up before digesting it and absorbing the nutrients through its wall.”
The final victim went into the plant shaped like a water jug. The worm fell in and the top of the jug closed, trapping it within. “This is creatively called a pitcher plant. Prey is attracted by a sweet smell and then falls into the interior.”
Fessin put on a forced smile. “That’s quite interesting. Earth has a rather unique ecosystem. Unfortunately, we have a few other things to take care of.”
After buying a few extra boxes of the berries, just to ensure they didn’t leave on a bad foot, the pair left.
Taking a quick peek back, Fessin blanched. “You know, I’m glad Earth’s gravity is too high to visit.”
“You have that right,” Milek replied. “Viewing the plants and animals in the safety of the IPGS is about as much as I can stand.”
As they went to find some more palatable food stands, Milek gave one last thought to the Humans. It was something that they could not only survive, but thrive, on a planet where they consumed toxic plants and lived next to dangerous predators. She counted herself lucky that they were friendly. She couldn’t imagine what they’d be like if they decided to be hostile.
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After five years, Milek thought she’d be used to this by now. Frozen stiff from fear, she watched the massive brown avian soar through the rafters in the arena.
After Arthur brought his King Charles Spaniel, Milek thought she had seen the worst the Human home world, a place called Earth, had to offer. The next year, his wife, Emily, showed up with something even more horrifying.
When that gigantic beast, easily five times larger than the previous one, lumbered into the arena, it caused a wave of fear so intense that a few species even broke out of their freeze instinct and ran. Ran! That’s the worst thing to do with a predator.
Yet the shaggy grey animal was just as well behaved as the one Arthur brought along. Of course, that is well behaved by Human standards. When Emily released a robotic version of a local animal called a deer, the arena was fascinated. Until the massive beast suddenly turn into the vicious predator everyone feared it was.
With a simple command from Emily, the gigantic predator immediately began chasing down the robotic deer. The bulky beast herded and maneuvered the robot until it took it down with a nip to the legs. Emily then gave a second command and the large animal immediately ceased the attack and reverted back to its, oddly, unassuming demeanor.
This was the first time that Milek got a good idea of how dominant the Humans were on their world. Screwing up her courage, she and Fessin went to introduce themselves just like they had with her husband the year prior.
She proved just as friendly, and oddly apologetic, as Arthur. This time, Milek and Fessin were invited to interact with the dog. Milek had a powerful conflict between curiosity and survival brewing at the time. Curiosity won out, barely, and she agreed to meet the predator.
The dog, the Irish Wolfhound, proved friendly and gentle. The animal had an unusually calm demeanor around potential prey. Yet she knew from the display that aggression could be triggered at any time. Emily explained that they have nothing to worry about, so long as they don’t threaten the dog’s family. Not that Emily had to worry about that in the galactic community.
That was also a controversial year. Like the year before, the judges decided to disregard the performance and awarded Fessin the first prize while Milek took second. Fessin was so outraged by the bias that he marched off the podium, dragged Emily over and handed the winning ribbon to her himself.
It would have also been the first year that a single entrant won both first AND second place with the same animal since Milek was ready to do the same. When the two most popular entrants in the IPGS rebelled, the judges listened and decided that a “technical error” in the voting software caused a mixup.
Still, even after learning that Earth’s predators could be impressive allies, Milek couldn’t shake millions of years of evolutionary instinct.
The avian, introduced by the trainer as a Golden Eagle, peered down over the crowd with eyes that looked like they could see for eternity. The trainer had set up a field of holographic grasses on the floor and let loose a robotic animal referred to as a hare.
The bird circled above, scanning the simulated grass below. Then a subtle shift in the grass gave away the presence of the robotic hare and the bird went into action.
Pulling in its wings, it dove down, picking up speed before flying low to the ground. The hare ran from the bird. Flapping to keep up its speed, the eagle skimmed the tips of the holographic grass as it rapidly closed the distance.
Then it extended its long black talons protruding from the ends of its bright yellow reptilian feet, stabbing them into the hare. The hare quickly ceased movement and the eagle ripped into the robot with a long, sharp beak, puncturing into the compartment that held the animal’s reward.
After consuming the meat, the bird flapped up into the air with a mighty pump of its wings before circling back toward the Human. The bird then landed on the Human’s outstretched arm, perching on a thick protective glove.
The Human gave a small bow, which the bird mimicked with outstretched wings. The Human was wearing an unusual garb made out of animal furs and skins. This was also disturbing to Milek, yet she held her opinion since it was the traditional cultural garb of a place on Earth called Mongolia, where training of these large predators dated back generations.
Milek ended up taking second this year behind the Human with Fessin in the third position. It was eight years since neither of them ended up on the top of the winner’s podium. Still, Milek wasn’t upset. The Humans bringing in fresh competition improved her game. Even though she placed second, she felt that her presentation was the best it has ever been.
The golden eagle deserved the win. Humanity had displayed a positively gargantuan avian predator for everyone to see. Milek later learned that, of course, it didn’t even rank in the top ten largest avian predators on Earth. The Humans have a penchant for surprises.
After the completion of the ceremony, Milek went to Fessin. “Hey, want to go check out the Garden displays? It’s been a while since we browsed it and I hear a Human finally opened a booth this year.”
“That sounds good,” Fessin replied. “Maybe their plants are just as unbelievable as their animals.”
Both shared a laugh at that. Surely, plant life couldn’t be hostile and deadly. It was food.
The pair moved through an airlock that led to a different part of the competition station.
Humans joining the IPGS caused a large number of rapid changes.
The biggest change was the venue was moved from rotating planet side arenas to a space station that the IPGS purchased second-hand from a failed concert promoter. They would tow it to the same planets and operate the show in orbit as opposed to on the ground.
The reason for this was two-fold. First, the number of spectators had quadrupled since the Irish Wolfhound showing. People wanted to get a better understanding of the fauna of Earth yet none of the species could survive the crushing gravity of the planet. The IPGS was the perfect place to observe the native wildlife of a planet that was otherwise impossible to visit. The problem was, the arenas the IPGS had on contract weren’t large enough for such crowds and it caused issues with ticket scalping.
Second was also related to the gravity. Because of the high gravity, many of the animals struggled to function properly in normal gravity environments. The two human entrants in the third year reported their animals were distressed when trying to move in the low gravity and it undermined the performance. One had brought along an animal called a horse and the gravity was interfering with the animal so badly that the human withdrew before the individual competition.
With a station, both problems were addressed. The station was able to handle the far larger crowds and it had it could dynamically alter the gravity of the competition floor. Of course, the gravity manipulator had to be special ordered since no one had designed one to generate that kind of force.
Without the proper gravity, the golden eagle wouldn’t have been able to display its terrifying hunting prowess.
A few other changes were made as well. A big one was the use of robotic animals. While Emily introduced the robotic deer, there weren’t any rules on the subject until the other Human in the third year created the new rule.
Milek thought that Human brought along a relatively normal animal to display. It was a creature called a rat. It was a small, dark grey-haired animal with a long, hairless tail. The Human also had carted out a large glass container behind it filled with rocks and artificial plants.
The crowd was intrigued by what the rat would do. The Human dropped it into the tank and all the rat did was wander around. Everyone found it disappointing.
That is until it caused the Mass Fainting. What Milek had initially thought was a large vine suddenly snapped out. The vine opened a mouth and began wrapping around the rat. The rat squealed loudly before it went silent. The vine tightened more and more as the rat struggled in silence before finally expiring.
Then the vine twisted around and consumed the rat by swallowing it whole. It turns out that it wasn’t a vine but a long animal the Humans referred to as a snake. In particular, a ball python.
Which, of course, is also not the largest of that particular class of animal on Earth, either.
The IPGS promptly banned harming live animals even before the judges had time to wake up.
The fourth year also had a new, Human derived rule. That year, a few entrants had shown up. By this point, the IPGS and its regulars had become somewhat used to the bizarre predators that the Humans were prone to entering.
That year, three Humans had arrived. One brought the most positively normal animal yet, a colorful avian called a parrot. It wasn’t, to Milek’s relief, a secret predator that would suck out blood from small cuts in the night. She couldn’t imagine such an animal ever existing, though she was sure some Human would bring one along at some point. No, the parrot only did something else bizarre - talking.
The second brought along a tiny predator known as a house cat. This was the first time Milek ever saw a predator that she wasn’t utterly terrified by upon first glance. It was, dare she say, cute. She loved the way it let out a low, comforting rumble. At least it was until the Human dangled a simulated mouse in front of it and a set of sharp claws deployed. The only solace was the fact the predator was so small it wouldn't be lethal to the galactic races.
It was the third Human that caused the rule change. And it was the Humans who suggested it to restrict entry to a list of animals that had to be excluded for safety. It was a long list and, oddly, even included herbivores like an animal called a hippopotamus. Milek also learned in that moment that if the Humans are concerned about something, listen.
The third Human brought along a much larger animal that Milek initially confused as a bigger house cat. The cat had a coat patterned with orange and black stripes with a few white accents along the face and underbelly. It was pulled along by a rope, like Arthur and Emily had done with their dogs, by a man with a weird blue coat in the same stripe pattern as the animal and had a hairstyle the archives called a “mullet”.
The other two Humans immediately alerted and informed the IPGS that the third Human, along with his animal, which they called a tiger, should be removed from the premises at once. Apparently, even Earth had predators the Humans couldn’t tame. The immense beast was one of them and it had a high probability of causing damage.
The Human with the tiger was eventually ejected, not without a significant amount of argument from the Human claiming he was some sort of tiger royalty.
After that was dealt with, Milek also got her first dose of unusual Human humor. When the tiger and its owner finally left, the Human with the parrot commented that tigers weren’t from some place called Africa. The other replied that it must be two humans in a suit. The two shared a laugh. Then the Human with the cat accused the human with the parrot that his parrot was deceased. Milek was confused why this was funny because the parrot was very clearly living.
Milek and Fessin stepped through the second airlock into a large atrium. Warm and humid, Milek flexed her outer chitin and enjoyed the warmth. It reminded her of her home world.
Looking on the tablet, Milek found the booth the Human had set up. “Looks like it’s at the other end of the venue.”
“I could use the exercise,” Fessin said. “Oh, by the way, I got a message from Arthur. He says if the Human offers up something called a pepper, turn it down. Apparently they think its funny when a new species tries one. Supposedly they cause significant distress both going in and coming out.”
“And the Humans eat this stuff?” Milek said, aghast.
Fessin snorted at the absurdity of it. “All the time. Voluntarily.”
Milek shook her head as she and Fessin browsed the garden show. The Garden hall was far bigger than the Pet Show arena. While most of the spectators came for the Pet Show, they stayed for the food.
Milek looked at the rows upon rows of different stations displaying the local plant life from across the galaxy. Her mouth watered as her eyes scanned over tasty looking vines or sumptuous purple flowers. Her 360 degree vision was nearly overloaded by the glorious bounty arrayed in the massive space.
Slapping her head, she remembered her mission. She was going to save her credits, and appetite, to get her first taste of Earth’s offerings. Luckily, the Humans were omnivores, so they enjoyed plants just as much as a good herbivore did.
Milek and Fessin both struggled as they moved through the Garden Show. Each new booth tempted them to try their food. Tubers, berries and nuts galore.
Then there was a strange break in the crowd. Looking ahead, Milek saw the Human’s booth. It was empty.
Moving closer, she saw a bored looking Human sitting on a metal folding chair. The small Human, a woman, was dressed in a brown robe with an embroidered garment covering her shoulders in the same color. Perched upon her head was a brown hat which had a round brim and had a cone jutting out of the top. The hat looked like it was one size too small for her head yet still managed to perch on the top.
Facing her tablet at the woman, Milek tried to get an idea of what the apparel was called. Nothing returned.
Curiously, the pair approached. Each table held, like many others, an array of amazingly appetizing plants. Vines, purple flowers, red flowers and more. There was also a section with strange plants that looked like water pitchers and one that had the weird appearance of having teeth. Milek noticed that the tables had little signs all over them. “For Display Only. Not for Consumption.”
The Human looked up and smiled, briefly flashing teeth before her mouth closed. “Welcome to Sprout’s Sprouts!”
Milek had a number of questions bouncing around in her mind. The first one popped out. “Can you tell me what your garment is called? I’m not getting anything from the database.”
The woman looked down at herself. “Oh? This thing? I can understand. It’s a pop culture reference I’m a fan of. Those haven’t been loaded up to the galactic network. It’s a big file. This is a robe and hat from a book series about a magical school I enjoy. The character a herbology teacher, which inspired me into becoming a horticulturalist.”
“Fiction is an important part of development,” Milek agreed. “So, why do you have all these signs everywhere?”
The Human gave a sheepish look. “I misunderstood what a Garden Show was. I thought it was to show off plants. I didn’t think it would be a food court. I can’t sell any of those because you may mistakenly eat it.”
Fessin cocked his head and looked over the plants on display. He laid his eyes on a sumptuous looking red one. “Do they just grow too slow to sell? What’s wrong with this one? It looks flavorful.”
“That one? It’s a rose. They’re not particularly difficult to grow. The hips can be consumed. However, take a closer look at that one,” the woman said.
Fessin leaned in and gasped. “The thing has teeth on it!”
Milek leaned in close to see what Fessin was talking about it. Sure enough, up and down the stem was a series of little sharp teeth sticking out of it.
“Those are called thorns,” the woman explained. “Unless you carefully cut those off, you can shred your insides. They also aren’t particularly nutritious.”
Milek blanched. That was insidious. Why would a plant want to hurt an animal? Presenting segments to eat was an important part of the reproductive cycle.
Fessin pointed at a different red flower. “And this one?”
“That’s a poinsettia. They’re toxic and, while not lethal, cause gastrointestinal distress,” the woman explained.
“And this one?” Milek asked, pointing at a plant with green leaves growing black colored berries.
“Balladona, that one is toxic enough to kill you.”
Milek was happy that the other species couldn’t visit Earth. If they did, most of them would be deceased the moment they passed a tantalizing bush outside the spaceport.
“So you didn’t bring anything to eat?” Fessin asked bluntly.
“Oh, I did,” the woman replied.
Milek smiled. “Can we take a look?”
“Sure. Unfortunately, I don’t have much, security wouldn’t let me bring most of it on the station,” the woman said as she pulled a wood box out from under one of the tables.
Milek knew she would regret asking, but she did anyway. “Why couldn’t you bring in the food?”
“So, apparently a lot of our food contains harmful substances. In sufficient quantity, they’re harmful to us, but it’s present in such low quantities, to us anyway, that it’s not a big deal.”
The woman started arranging a number of different items on the table. There was a flat green vegetable with little lumps under the surface, a small box of red berries and another small box with blue colored berries.
The woman then took out a tablet and touched it a few times. The picture of a red fruit came on the screen. “This, for instance, is an apple. It’s a common fruit we enjoy throughout the day. The problem is the seeds contain a substance called arsenic. Humans would have to crush up a large handful of the seeds to have an effect, so we can safely eat the whole thing, including the core, even though that’s not common. It is, however, lethal to you guys out here. It’s also present in citrus fruit, pears and grapes.”
She swiped her finger on the screen and a new picture popped up, this time of a yellow curved tube. “This is a banana. They contain potassium, which is important to the Human nervous system. They’re also mildly radioactive.”
The woman swiped the screen again. A variety of nuts came up. Milek’s mouth watered. She loved nuts. “These are various nuts. Almonds contain cyanide, which is a potent lethal compound. It’s in small enough quantities that the cultivated ones are safe, though we have to be careful with the wild ones. Even so much as 10 can kill a child.”
Milek sighed in disappointment that these nuts couldn’t be consumed. Which only got worse when the woman kept talking. “Other kinds of nuts can cause major anaphylactic shock episodes, including in a small subset of the Human population. They usually have to be careful and read warnings that something may contain nuts.”
Another picture of a different nut came up, this time with a two-segment shell. “This is called a peanut, though the name is deceptive since it’s a different class of plant called a legume. It can also be lethal, so I left them behind.”
“I think I heard enough,” Milek said, sad that Earth produced such impressive looking vegetables, fruit and nuts that couldn’t be consumed. “What about these?”
The woman pointed to the items in turn. “The green ones are snow peas. The red ones are raspberries. The blue ones are, creatively, blueberries. They have their own little quirks, though your security didn’t trigger them as toxic.”
Milek and Fessin looked at each other. Even with little quirks that passed security, they wondered if they could risk trying the fare.
The woman recognized the look. “Hey, I understand your hesitation after that big disclosure. Just because the security guys cleared it doesn’t make you feel comfortable.”
Fessin sighed. “You know what? I think I’ll give it a try. It would be rude not to. Maybe the red one.”
“First bite’s free,” the woman said, holding the box up.
Fessin gingerly gripped one of the red berries in his upper left arm and studied it. Milek looked down at the berry that had multiple small bulbous spheres attached in a rough cone shape with a hollow center. Taking a deep breath, Fessin popped it into his mouth.
His expression then lit up. “Wow! This is amazing! The sweetness exploded out of the fruit and is dancing on my tongue.”
Intrigued, Milek gestured at the green one. The woman handed it up.
Biting in, the plant snapped and sent back an unusual sensation. She found the crunchy exterior and soft interior balls a wonderful combination.
“Snow peas,” the woman explained. “There’s another version called a snap pea that makes a more satisfying pop, though I didn’t bring any of those along.”
The third fruit, the blueberry, was just as incredible. Milek ended up buying a box of the snap peas while Fessin took a box of raspberries.
As they chewed their treats, Milek pointed to a different table, “What are those?”
The woman turned and looked. “Ah, those are my carnivorous plants.”
Milek and Fessin both stopped mid-chew. Did they just hear the Human correctly? Carnivorous plants.
“I think the translator may be acting up,” Fessin replied. “Did you mean carnival plants?”
“No, carnivorous is right. These plants eat other things,” the woman explained, pride in her voice.
Milek and Fessin both took a big step away from the table. They were flabbergasted this Human casually sat by plants that could reach out and eat her.
The woman chuckled. “No, not like that. The biggest one out there can eat a rat and none of them are harmful to larger organisms. They mostly consume smaller insects. Here, have a look.”
The woman pulled out a different box and extracted a small wriggling worm thing. Milek looked at it with disgust. They reminded her of her people’s larval stage, though it was significantly smaller. “Didn’t the IPGS ban live demonstrations?”
The woman paused and looked at the worm. “Oh, sorry. Yea, I had to get an exception. These things are such low order lifeforms that we’re not even sure they feel pain. Insects on our world are barely above simple machines. The IPGS gave me an exception for this.”
That didn’t make Milek feel much better. It was like watching the Human feed her kids to a plant, which was entirely the opposite of what nature intended. Still, it wasn’t her place to question how the biology of another world functioned and watched.
The woman first took a small worm and placed it into the open folds of the plant with teeth. It contacted tiny hairs inside and the outer walls snapped shut, trapping the worm inside. “This is a venus flytrap. They activate when two of the small hairs inside their open mouths are triggered within a close timeframe. When closed, they secrete digestive enzymes that consume the trapped insect. They’re difficult to grow and require a proper soil acidity to thrive.”
She extracted a second worm, making Milek feel slightly nauseous. The Human then went over to a plant with long stalks that had a series of red hairs sticking out of it. At the end of the red hairs were small clear balls. The woman put the worm in one of the red hairs and released it, leaving it stuck to the plant. The plant then folded in on itself, trapping the worm in a coil. “This is commonly called a sundew. The plant sticks to its prey and wraps it up before digesting it and absorbing the nutrients through its wall.”
The final victim went into the plant shaped like a water jug. The worm fell in and the top of the jug closed, trapping it within. “This is creatively called a pitcher plant. Prey is attracted by a sweet smell and then falls into the interior.”
Fessin put on a forced smile. “That’s quite interesting. Earth has a rather unique ecosystem. Unfortunately, we have a few other things to take care of.”
After buying a few extra boxes of the berries, just to ensure they didn’t leave on a bad foot, the pair left.
Taking a quick peek back, Fessin blanched. “You know, I’m glad Earth’s gravity is too high to visit.”
“You have that right,” Milek replied. “Viewing the plants and animals in the safety of the IPGS is about as much as I can stand.”
As they went to find some more palatable food stands, Milek gave one last thought to the Humans. It was something that they could not only survive, but thrive, on a planet where they consumed toxic plants and lived next to dangerous predators. She counted herself lucky that they were friendly. She couldn’t imagine what they’d be like if they decided to be hostile.
2024.05.05 16:46 doctorgecko Respect Ginko Tsukitsuba (Samurai in Another World)
"Fight to live, fight to die! That's what I'll strive for until the end of my life!"
Ginko Tsukitsuba
Ever since Ginko Tsukitsuba was a young girl, she dreamed of being a samurai and dying gloriously in battle. While she would eventually go to war, she found herself as one of the only survivors of a bloody battle. From there she began to wander Japan, challenging travelers and slaying them the hopes of finding someone capable of killing her, gaining a reputation as a demon in the process. One day, frustrated by the lack of people able to kill her, she prayed to a statue of Buddha in the hopes of being sent somewhere that she could find some sort of foe. Next thing she knew, she found herself in a fantasy world beset by demons and monsters.Notes
- Feats are marked by what chapter they occur in
- At one point Ginko is transformed into a type of monster.19 Feats in this state will be marked.
- Decapitates all three heads of a massive basilisk, and to get to it also cuts a thick door, the chains binding it, and the cavern walls around it.4 Said door was covered in a lot of chains4
- Slices through the roots of a tree demon larger than she is, before slicing it clean in two3
- Slices off Draco's arm10
- Cuts through weapons, armor, and human foes1
- Slices orcs much larger than her to pieces, considering them weak2
- Slices four gremlins clean in two, seemingly in a single slash5 and then slices two to bits6
- Chops off the hand of a massive goblin17 and then beheads it off panel18
- Slams a goblin down hard enough to break the ground, and takes out another with a strike to the head16
- Presumably kills a goblin by bashing it in the head with the hilt of her sword17
- Tears up the ground by launching forwards2
- Deflects strikes from a large tree demon3
- Sends Circe flying back with a kick18-19 and breaks her arm,19 while stating that she held back19
- Trades blows with Draco.10
- Presumably brings three basilisk heads larger than she is out of a cave4 where the basilisk itself had been killed4
- Off panel places the head of a massive golbin on its body18
- Draws blood from a gremlin by striking it in the face with the hilt of her sword, and then swings it around into more gremlins5
- Supports her weight with just two of her toes for 24 hours14
- Draws a bow not originally designed for humans, that two ordinary people can't even budge7
- Nearly breaks free of magic handcuffs, only failing due to a previous injury.10 Said handcuffs weigh about 60 kg10
- Delivers a flurry of slashes to cut two gremlins to bits, before two heroes can even deliver a single strike6
- Slices an orc to pieces moments before it can grab a girl, and then dodges and slices through an entire squad of them1
- Blitzes several soldiers and defends against their strikes1
- Kicks Circe before the latter can touch her, despite the later moving first18
- Trades rapid blows with Draco and takes off his arm,10 then stops her swing just before she can seriously hurt someone who unexpectedly jumps in her path10 (though she does still cut her a bit)10
- Uses the bodies of goblin enemies to block incoming arrows17
- Dodges and deflects several root strikes from a large tree demon, before slicing up the roots and it. She considers this far easier than making it through a battlefield filled with arrows, spears, and blades flying everywhere3
- Dodges a spear strike to the head4
- Dodges a surprise punch on reflex8
- (Anti-feat) Four years before the start of the series, is hit in the head by a lead ball fired from an early gun1
- Grabs a goblin leaping at her from behind, and then ducks under two other leaping Goblins16
- Dodges a strike from a massive goblin and the dodges another before slashing off its arm17
- Weaves through a flurry of strikes from Draco and slashes his face10
- Dodges a telekinetically controlled staff, and then weaves through multiple beams of energy fired from it (though she is caught off guard when one changed directions)19
- Takes a kick to the head from Draco (see strength for more context)10
- Has a dragon break the chain she's using to hold on to it, and survives a long fall into a forest2
- (Anti-feat) Four years before the start of the series, a lead ball fired from an early gun hitting her headband causes her to faint, though it's implied she kept fighting despite not being conscious of doing so1
- Bashes her head against the ground1
- Kicked face first into a tree hard enough to crack it16 and then gets headbutted by the same person16
- Cuts her own face with her sword to prove her dedication1
- Slices off one of her own arms as an apology (though it is fixed almost immediatly)8
- Her father describes her as a prodigy,1 while others in Japan feel she's not from this world1
- Defeats and slays her father (who is also her teacher) five years before the start of the series1
- Four years before the start of the series, was the only survivor of a huge battle despite losing her senses for a good portion of it1
- Is knows as the demon swordsman, and she cuts down a One Sword School master1
- Cuts down a samurai who had already killed 20 foes in duels, with this being her 100th kill1
- Fights evenly with and cuts off the arm10 of one of the top heroes in the world10
- Takes on and slaughters several goblins surrounding her17
- Wields two swords, a katana and a wakizashi9
- Trained in using several different weapons, and uses a bow to shoot a fleeing gremlin out of the sky (and... accidentally hit an airborne hero in the head)7
- Uses a chain2 to grab hold of and hang on to an ascending dragon2
- Can tell that a specific mountain is where a monster is hiding due to it possessing an ominous air around it4
- Able to recognize the smell of blood11
- Detects an incoming monster, though not soon enough to stop it from kidnapping someone16
- Capable of sensing bloodlust19
- Sneaks up behind two people without them noticing6
- A magical construct that can read people's past and judge them is horrified by the amount of blood she's spilt9 (though in fairness this is a world where the idea of humans killing other humans is unfamiliar)10
- Realized she had cut Miko from the beginning11 despite Miko's attempts to hide this10
- A blast of magic capable of turning a person into more than just a monster only transforms her arm,19 though this could be due to her coming from another world19
2024.05.05 16:02 Kind_Security_9931 Hawks Vs Bulldogs Player Ratings
Before I do these I just want to say I don’t think any of the boys played poorly, there was definitely stuff the improve on but overall just a great effort and performance from the boys.
Jarman Impey : 10/10 Doesn’t really get much better than this, you might think a 10 is a bit too exaggerated but as a half back, he didn’t put a foot wrong. 27 touches, 7 interceptions, 3 score involvements also only had 1 turnover therefore he was running at 93% disposal efficiency which is incredible!
Dylan Moore : 8.5/10 The bloke is in some unreal form right now, I am loving the fact he’s getting more CBA’s because it has really changed our game. 24 touches, 9 score involvements, 4 direct goal assists and a goal for him self. Vice captain for a reason. 5 tackles aswell, just unreal pressure.
Lloyd Meek : 8/10 Hasn’t had a bad game since coming in, absolutely no chance that Noodle gets a game this season. Meeky danced on English in the ruck contests and although English might have gotten the better of him around the ground, that was bound to happen when English is arguably the best ruck in the comp. 16 touches, 42 hitouts and a goal for the big man tops off a unreal peformance.
Jack Scrimshaw : 8/10 Every single week this guy gives it his all, been our most consistent player this season and definitely up there in the bnf. 10 intercept possessions is just so good and he was a rock in the backline. Just can’t fault the man
James Sicily : 7/10 Deserves the 10 for coming back out after dislocating his shoulder. In all seriousness it wasn’t the usual game for Sicily, played a fair bit of the game down forward, got him self a goal which was huge and when he was in the backline I thought he was very solid as well.
Blake Hardwick : 7.5/10 Thought he was criminally underrated today, played as a bit of a swingman. 6 intercept possessions while playing half a game in the backline is pretty impressive.
Connor Macdonald : 8/10 Loved this game from Cmac, 3 great goals and 5 score involvements. Would have loved to see him get a few more touches and some CBA’s but overall a solid game.
Jai Newcombe : 7/10 A decent game from Jai, started well in the first but dropped off in the second half. 21 touches, 4 clearances and a goal, along with 8 score involvements. Had a real slow start to the season but I’m confident he will get back into it eventually. We did verse a very experienced midfield though so it is understandable that our mids didn’t have much touches.
Finn Maginness : 6.5/10 Thought Finn did well today, saw him on the wing a fair bit and I thought he held his own. 20 touches, 6 score involvements but however he did have 5 turnovers so his ball use could have been a lot better.
Calsher Dear : 7.5/10 For a kid who’s playing his first game, in a forward line with no real key forwards besides him self, he killed it. 2 goals and could of had 3. His leap at the ball just looks unreal, he is a gem. He definitely will play next week, we might see a Lewis x Bambi duo in action.
Connor Nash : 6.5/10 Thought Nash played better today, still not that keen on him and definitely would like to see a player like Hustwaite get a game over him to see how we would go. 18 touches for a inside mid is not exactly great but he did have 8 clearances so gotta give him that.
James Worpel : 6/10 Thought he was extremely quiet, 18 touches just like nash but I barely saw him. Only the 3 clearances and 3 score involvements. Started the season off great but I’m not sure what’s going on, that goes for all of our midfield.
Josh Weddle : 7.5/10 Had to play as a key back to compensate for our small backline but boy did he play well. I just love when he takes a bounce and takes the game on. Also kicked an unreal goal.
Gunston : 7/10 Could have had 6 goals this bloke, terrible accuracy but provided a good option in the forward line. And I’m sure his leadership helped our young boys like Dear
Amon : 6.5/10 Thought it was an average peformance from Amon, have seen him do better and definitely should have done. Still not a huge fan of his move to the backline, definitely think he would be more damaging on the wing.
Ginnivian : 6/10 Thought he wasn’t too involved, got a goal but was not his best game.
Massimo : 7.5/10 Great to have him back in the squad, thought he played his position terrifically, such a good user of the ball and was solid defensively.
Will Day : 5/10 Real slow day for Daysy, I will give him the benefit of the doubt , he’s returning from injury and still hasn’t recovered to full fitness.
Morrison : 5/10 Didn’t get too involved, not much to really judge off.
Frosty : 6.5/10 Thought he did really well as usual this season, took some good marks, spoiled a few and an overall great defensive performance nce.
Josh Ward : 4/10 Just average and was not really involved at all, I think there were other players who could have been picked over him.
Frenchie Not sure why he got subbed out, thought ght he played well in the first half.
Wiz Nearly gave me a heart attack.
submitted by Kind_Security_9931 to hawktalk [link] [comments]
Jarman Impey : 10/10 Doesn’t really get much better than this, you might think a 10 is a bit too exaggerated but as a half back, he didn’t put a foot wrong. 27 touches, 7 interceptions, 3 score involvements also only had 1 turnover therefore he was running at 93% disposal efficiency which is incredible!
Dylan Moore : 8.5/10 The bloke is in some unreal form right now, I am loving the fact he’s getting more CBA’s because it has really changed our game. 24 touches, 9 score involvements, 4 direct goal assists and a goal for him self. Vice captain for a reason. 5 tackles aswell, just unreal pressure.
Lloyd Meek : 8/10 Hasn’t had a bad game since coming in, absolutely no chance that Noodle gets a game this season. Meeky danced on English in the ruck contests and although English might have gotten the better of him around the ground, that was bound to happen when English is arguably the best ruck in the comp. 16 touches, 42 hitouts and a goal for the big man tops off a unreal peformance.
Jack Scrimshaw : 8/10 Every single week this guy gives it his all, been our most consistent player this season and definitely up there in the bnf. 10 intercept possessions is just so good and he was a rock in the backline. Just can’t fault the man
James Sicily : 7/10 Deserves the 10 for coming back out after dislocating his shoulder. In all seriousness it wasn’t the usual game for Sicily, played a fair bit of the game down forward, got him self a goal which was huge and when he was in the backline I thought he was very solid as well.
Blake Hardwick : 7.5/10 Thought he was criminally underrated today, played as a bit of a swingman. 6 intercept possessions while playing half a game in the backline is pretty impressive.
Connor Macdonald : 8/10 Loved this game from Cmac, 3 great goals and 5 score involvements. Would have loved to see him get a few more touches and some CBA’s but overall a solid game.
Jai Newcombe : 7/10 A decent game from Jai, started well in the first but dropped off in the second half. 21 touches, 4 clearances and a goal, along with 8 score involvements. Had a real slow start to the season but I’m confident he will get back into it eventually. We did verse a very experienced midfield though so it is understandable that our mids didn’t have much touches.
Finn Maginness : 6.5/10 Thought Finn did well today, saw him on the wing a fair bit and I thought he held his own. 20 touches, 6 score involvements but however he did have 5 turnovers so his ball use could have been a lot better.
Calsher Dear : 7.5/10 For a kid who’s playing his first game, in a forward line with no real key forwards besides him self, he killed it. 2 goals and could of had 3. His leap at the ball just looks unreal, he is a gem. He definitely will play next week, we might see a Lewis x Bambi duo in action.
Connor Nash : 6.5/10 Thought Nash played better today, still not that keen on him and definitely would like to see a player like Hustwaite get a game over him to see how we would go. 18 touches for a inside mid is not exactly great but he did have 8 clearances so gotta give him that.
James Worpel : 6/10 Thought he was extremely quiet, 18 touches just like nash but I barely saw him. Only the 3 clearances and 3 score involvements. Started the season off great but I’m not sure what’s going on, that goes for all of our midfield.
Josh Weddle : 7.5/10 Had to play as a key back to compensate for our small backline but boy did he play well. I just love when he takes a bounce and takes the game on. Also kicked an unreal goal.
Gunston : 7/10 Could have had 6 goals this bloke, terrible accuracy but provided a good option in the forward line. And I’m sure his leadership helped our young boys like Dear
Amon : 6.5/10 Thought it was an average peformance from Amon, have seen him do better and definitely should have done. Still not a huge fan of his move to the backline, definitely think he would be more damaging on the wing.
Ginnivian : 6/10 Thought he wasn’t too involved, got a goal but was not his best game.
Massimo : 7.5/10 Great to have him back in the squad, thought he played his position terrifically, such a good user of the ball and was solid defensively.
Will Day : 5/10 Real slow day for Daysy, I will give him the benefit of the doubt , he’s returning from injury and still hasn’t recovered to full fitness.
Morrison : 5/10 Didn’t get too involved, not much to really judge off.
Frosty : 6.5/10 Thought he did really well as usual this season, took some good marks, spoiled a few and an overall great defensive performance nce.
Josh Ward : 4/10 Just average and was not really involved at all, I think there were other players who could have been picked over him.
Frenchie Not sure why he got subbed out, thought ght he played well in the first half.
Wiz Nearly gave me a heart attack.
2024.05.05 15:01 ibid-11962 Movies and Adaptations [Post Murtagh Christopher Paolini Q&A Wrap Up #2]
As discussed in the first post, this is my ongoing compilation of the remaining questions Christopher has answered online between August 1st 2023 and April 30th 2024 which I've not already covered in other compilations.
As always, questions are sorted by topic, and each Q&A is annotated with a bracketed source number. Links to every source used and to the other parts of this compilation will be provided in a comment below.
The previous post focused on Future Publications, though it skipped over the future projects which aren't really books. This installment will therefore focus on Movies and Adaptations, including of course, the Disney+ Eragon adaptation that is currently being worked on. The next post will focus on In-Universe Lore.
submitted by ibid-11962 to Eragon [link] [comments]
As always, questions are sorted by topic, and each Q&A is annotated with a bracketed source number. Links to every source used and to the other parts of this compilation will be provided in a comment below.
The previous post focused on Future Publications, though it skipped over the future projects which aren't really books. This installment will therefore focus on Movies and Adaptations, including of course, the Disney+ Eragon adaptation that is currently being worked on. The next post will focus on In-Universe Lore.
Movies and Adaptations
Low Budget MovieI actually haven't spoken about this part publicly. I have this sort of bee in my bonnet that I've wanted to do for years, which is I want to try to write and direct a low budget film, there's a lot of talent here in the area in Montana where I live, and it's something I've always wanted to do, and I kinda of figure I'm at the age where if I don't try to do it it'll never happen. The barometer as to whether or not this happens will be entirely as to whether or not I can write a script that I'm happy with and that other people would be interested in helping make. If I can manage to write a script that works then I'm going to give it a real shot, if not I'll go back and write another book. [1]Etsy Merch
It's very interesting that one of the first storytelling books that comes to your mind is the Robert McKee one. I've always been fascinated with film and I would love to make film at some point. I might actually make a real effort in that direction this year, we shall see. The thing is, we didn't have television reception growing up but we would rent movies and we would watch a film every evening with dinner. We did that for years and years and years. I have seen a lot of movies. In films, if you read scripts, scripts are almost entirely structure and outline. They're a plan, a guideline for the story that is to be made into a film. [25]
You don't happen to sell bookmarks on your Etsy, would you? I'm in need of a few bookmarks and would love some Alagaësia or Fractalverse themed ones. Ha! We’re actually going to have some up in the nearish future. [T]TTRPG
If you were to create a game of Eragon or any of your other books, which book would it be and what would be the winning state of that game? Well, the funny thing is I've been developing a tabletop RPG for the World of Eragon. And I'm currently waiting to hear back from a publisher if they want to move forward with it or if we need to find another home for it. The slight difficulty I've had, the reason it hasn't come out sooner, is that Disney and Fox already owns the merch rights for the World of Eragon. So we can do a rule book and we can do other stuff, but we can't do figurines or some other stuff. So it's a little tricky. But Eragon was the natural answer for me to develop that world and to not do a D&D based system, but to come up with a completely new game engine based around my ancient language and the rules of my magic and being a dragon rider and all of that. As far as what are the winning conditions, that depends on the individual campaign. How the players want to play. What kind of things would motivate a player in an Eragon campaign? Probably to be a dragon rider and to be cool. But I'm structuring the campaigns around, the guidance that I'm hoping to provide is to, just like with the books, send the players in the direction of achieving peace in the land, of having a positive influence. With the full knowledge that the players are probably going to disregard that and rampage across the land, but you know, you do your best. [23]Writing a video game
We have a lot of writers who are engaging in the video game industry. For example, Elden Ring. Would you consider writing for a game in the future? I would love to do that someday. It would really depend on the project though and my time. [32]Mechanical Keyboard Video
You might find a Bluetooth keyboard helpful for ipads and tablets. You can get folding ones too for travel. Already have one. I'm going to do a video on how to hack together an awesome mechanical keyboard for cheap. [T]Illustrated Books
Along with the release of Murtagh we have the illustrated edition which came out at the same time. There is a new map here, from a fan. He did a version of this and posted it online, and I liked it so much I contacted him and said "well let's make a few tweaks, and if you are okay licensing it, let's do it", and so that's where this came from. So thank you Spencer. Oh that's cool. And do you have a favourite illustration? There's a couple of ones I really love. Hard to pick a favorite. I love the cover one. I love The Ra'zac in the cathedral at Dras Leona. There's one where it's multiple images that are sort of shattered of Brom and Saphira. There's Saphira in a snowy tree chasing a bird with Eragon near the beginning. It's really a lovely lovely book. [15]Audiobooks and Malte Wegmann's Music
It looks great. There is a kind of optimism in his art. A brilliance and joy that I like. [21]
I want a background for my PC created from the Battle under Farthen Dûr illustrated edition art. Would anybody know how to get a hi-res version of it? Even if I have to pay. I love the artwork for the scene so much. You could ping the artist on Instagram and see if he has an image you could use. He's usually pretty responsive. [R]
The first book that you released after your dry spell was not To Sleep in a Sea of Stars, it was an official Eragon coloring book. Yeah. Do you know how long it took to write that as well? I mean my God that was like 3 years of solid work. I didn't have to do the art, but just figuring out the words for a coloring book, it hurts. Do you think that coloring books are the key to curing writer's block, and do you recommend other bestselling fantasy authors struggling to publish a new book for the last decade to try this approach as well? Absolutely. Although, the thing is, is like I said, it was hard to write. If you're having trouble writing in general, you might find that tackling a coloring book actually sets you back even further, especially since some authors, not going to name names, don't have any discipline and would probably start doing a 10 book series in coloring books. But it was a rewarding experience. I really learned a lot as an author. And I've been able to apply that knowledge from the coloring book to my future books. Yeah, it's such a shame that Tolkien published so few books. Imagine what he could have accomplished if he put out a coloring book. Exactly, exactly. Of course, the problem with coloring books is they tend to be all black and white so it's very hard to get any shades of gray in your characters. [28]
In the acknowledgements section you also talk about the soundtrack for the audiobook of "Murtagh", which is available online. I've listened to it. It's good isn't, it? It's pretty cool! Do you have a favourite track? I think the main theme actually. Although I saw that apparently the most played track off of that is actually the Nal Gorgoth theme, the village. But I love the main theme because it has a sort of ache to it, a bittersweet ache, which feels very appropriate for Murtagh and Thorn. I've worked with the composer Malte Wegmann a couple of times, he did music for the audiobook for To sleep in a Sea of Stars and then Fractal Noise. Fractal Noise might actually work better as an audiobook versus in print, because the whole concept of the story is that there's a repetitive sound being emitted by this artifact on the planet and the audiobook can capture that in ways that a book can't. Malte has really evolved as a composer. He started as a fan, he was composing little pieces of fan music for the Inheritance Cycle and releasing it online as part of what he called "The Inheritance Project". I heard bits and pieces and I loved it and he was willing to collaborate and work. Of course, we paid him. I don't take fan work for free. And now we've done this for three books in a row. [15]The Original Movie
I loved Murtagh. In fact, I'm listening to Malte Wegmann's work for the audiobook music right now, and it's really amazing. It both confirms and expands my understanding of the book. I don't know how much of a hand you had and how the pieces turned out in the end, but if you did, can you share what the collaboration process was like? Malte is a fan, and he started releasing Inheritance-inspired music even before To Sleep in a Sea of Stars came out. I saw it, I enjoyed it, and I saw him developing as a composer as he was going along. With To Sleep in a Sea of Stars, we really worked on making that a beautiful package, both in the print version and the audiobook. So I reached out to Malte and asked if he'd be interested in doing some music for the audiobook, which he did. And he's now done music for every book since then. So To Sleep, Fractal Noise, and now, Murtagh. The Fractal Noise audiobook is fantastic. There's sound effects through the whole thing. There's music. It's really quite the production. With Murtagh, Random House does not normally use music in their audiobooks, and they haven't really done it with the Inheritance Cycle. I think they might've used a little outro music in the past, but that's about it. So I told them, "I want to do this", and Malte came up with some initial sketches for pieces for each of the different sections in the book. And then I gave him my feedback. Some of them, he nailed them right off the bat. Others, he was in the general ballpark, and then I wanted to work with him to get it right where I wanted it for the world. I think one or two pieces we had to go around with quite a few times, like the main theme for Murtagh himself. I wanted something that felt both noble and yet aching at the same time, and also masculine, which felt important. Just kind of getting the right tone, the right feel, that was tricky, and Malte did it. He really did it. So I got to hand it to him. It's great feeling throughout. And assuming he's available and interested, I look forward to continuing to have his music in my audio books. [31]
Ah! Been hearing pieces of the music that Malte Wegmann is composing for the Murtagh audiobook. It's SO GOOD. I'm half tempted to listen to the audiobook myself! Have you ever listened to one of your audiobooks before? Only extracts. [T]
Close your eyes and listen to the main theme that Malte Wegmann composed for the Murtagh audiobook. And yes, he really captured the feel. (There's a lot more music throughout, btw.). [T]
What was your favorite moment to see played out on the big screen? Well, none of my favorite moments made it onto the big screen, so... What I wanted to see was Saphira breaking the star sapphire in Tronjheim during the great battle. And that does not exist in the film that does not exist. That said, I'm an executive producer and co-writer on the show. So I've got my fingers in the pot pretty deeply. [30]
For all for all the jokes about the film, and I've said my share of them, it's not the worst film in the world. The problem is it's not a particularly good adaptation of Eragon, and that's where the disconnect happens. The budget on the film was actually ridiculously bigger than you would think watching the film. They spent a lot of money on the movie. It was huge. But behind the scenes it was a very difficult process with a lot of upheaval behind the scenes. It was the largest budget that that sub-studio of fox had ever worked with before. The biggest budget they'd worked with before that was Castaway, which I think was 80 million at the time, and most of that was Robert Zemeckis and Tom Hanks' salaries. It was something outside their wheelhouse. There was no one involved in the project who really loved the material. Perhaps it's unfair to have expected that. Because Eragon was so new, there wasn't the fan base that had grown up the way there is now. People didn't know where the story was going and the lore of Alagaësia did not exist to the degree it does now. But still, no one was ultimately in charge of the project who really liked the book on a deep level and I think that shows on the final product. Not enough to put you off trying again, which I think is very admirable. What's the alternative? You could just give up. You have to try. You have to try writing a book even if it doesn't work. You have to try making an adaptation even if it doesn't work. That's life. You fall flat on your face, you get up, you do it again. Was it always something that you wanted to see? Of course. I originally envisioned Eragon as a movie but there was no possible way to get that made as a kid, so I wrote it. [25]
What do you think of the film version of Eragon? It’s not a horrible film . . . but it's not a particularly good adaptation, and ultimately, that's the problem. Few of the things that people enjoy in my books are in the film. (As one example: you wouldn't even know that the books contained elves and dwarves, if you just watched the movie.) [20]
It was quite soon after Eragon became a success and I had little input. I think I had two phone calls from the director. I don't think it's a bad movie; it made good money. But the movie does not do justice to the book. [16]
We're going back. I just can't in good conscience dedicate a whole subreddit to the movie and leave the books to the wayside! Hope everyone had a fun April Fool's day! Well darn. Focusing on the movie was the best thing that could have happened! :D [R]
The Movie was so inspirational, Christopher released multiple books in its image. Hey, ripping off a masterpiece such as that movie was my best career path. Don't judge. [R]
The Eragon Disney Plus Show
NewsAny news on the Eragon show? Yes, but I can't tell you. :D [T]Loosing the showrunner
The TV show for Eragon is in development at Disney. Hopefully we'll be having some news on that fairly soon. Can't say anything about some of these things until you can, but it is still in the works. It's hard to sit on stuff. It is. We had a showrunner lined up for Eragon and then the strike happened and everyone parted ways because the strike. Everyone's going off and doing different things. So it goes. [30]Showrunner search
So we're waiting for Disney to greenlight it, are we? What we're waiting for is some key personnel to get into place, specifically we need the showrunner. We had a number of people interested and we were talking with people and there was one person in particular that I thought was going to be a good fit, and then the writer strike happened. Now we're having to restart the process. [25]
The TV show is in early development. We got stalled out because of the writers' strike. Basically we're looking for the showrunner. If we can't find the showrunner of the show won't happen. And it's a very short list of people who would qualify. Because you need someone who can run a big budget television show. Of which there are not many people. Someone who likes the subject material and wants to adapt it in a way that seems faithful. And someone who gets along with me and that I get along with them. Oh, and who is available. Because a lot of people who might qualify are under contract with that studio or that show. So we're looking and once we get that person hopefully then the show will actually start moving forward. [15]Timeline
And the thing is, it's a very short list of people who can take that position. For those who don't know, showrunners oversee an entire show. They may or may not direct any episodes, but they usually oversee the production and the writing. They often write many of the episodes or at least help. The list of people who can do that is A, small. There's only so many people who have the experience to run a big budget television show. B, it needs to be someone who likes the material and actually wants to adapt it in a way that is faithful to it. And C, gets along with me and I get along with them since we have to work together. So yeah, that's what we need to find. [25]
When and if we get showrunner in place, and of course, everything's shut down in Hollywood because of the holidays right now, so hopefully beginning of the year we will actually be able to nail something down. When and if we get a showrunner on the show, then that person and I will write probably the pilot and maybe the first two episodes, or at least the pilot and the first episode. And then Disney will look at that and that's what they'll make the decision on whether or not to commit to a first season. And if they commit to the first season, they pull the lever on that, then we go full speed ahead. And then the whole machine kicks in in terms of pre-production and design and costumes and casting and music and directors and all of that. So getting to that point is the first big pump if you will, the first week the first big hill to climb. [17]Writing Scripts
I'm currently working on a giant map and as for what I'm writing next, not quite sure. I'll decide once I'm done with the map. But it'll either be something in the World of Eragon or the Fractalverse, and I may have a screenplay I need to write posthaste so we shall see, but exciting stuff. [22]Cancel Risk
I'm currently writing and have been for a couple of weeks now. And I can't tell you what I'm working on because it's for- it's for someone I can't talk-, it's something I can't talk about. So hopefully I will be able to talk about it. I can't talk about it quite yet, but y'all would be excited with it if I could tell you. As far as upcoming plans, what I'm working on now is not actually a book, but I hope to have a book out next year. [29]
The big monkey wrench in that is that the television show for Eragon and the television show for To Sleep in a Sea of Stars are both still alive and kicking. And more than, in fact. So I have contractual - Now I think I know what you're up to. To quote a wonderful British show, you might say that, but I couldn't possibly comment. I have contractual obligations on both of those shows, so I have to basically drop everything and do writing on them if required, which is a wonderful opportunity, of course, and it's one I want, but it does come with a price on the book side of things. It does, but it also comes with a lot of reassurance for readers and fans like me. What they did do with their recent Percy Jackson series I thought was pretty great. Bert Salke, who produces Percy Jackson, is also the producer on the Eragon adaptation. And he and Percy just got picked up for a second season. So we're all very happy with how that's done. You're like, "I can't talk about it. I can't talk about it." Well, we wish that you could. [29]
Were I to go back and re-edit or tweak those first two books, there's definitely some things that could use a little ironing out. I've been looking at the first book in depth for a project I'm currently working on which I can't talk about. And I can definitely see that was my first book. But at the same time, it's my best-selling book. [30]
Is this show still safe given the state of Hollywood and all the cuts and cancellations of projects we're seeing at the moment? It's tough times in Hollywood at the moment, but Eragon is safer than, say, Spiderwick. Unlike Spiderwick, Disney owns 100% of Eragon, and -- so far -- Disney isn't selling or cancelling stuff that they outright own. [R]Making Changes
Do you feel because of your last previous experience, you have more of a determination to see your favorite parts come to life in this adaptation? Well, two things. Yes. More determination to see it be faithful to what made the story popular in the first place, because I wrote it for certain things and people responded to those things, so those things need to be in the story. But part two is that also having more time away from the actual writing of the books, I've had years and years to think about the story, and as a result, I've thought of a number of ways to streamline, condense, actually adapt it. And those thoughts that I've had, it only comes with time, no subsitute for that. So having some distance from the writing has actually helped in terms of figuring out how to actually adapt it in a successful manner. [30]Brom
With TV, especially nowadays, you've got so much room to explore and actually explore the universe that you've created. Yes. The difficult thing with adapting a book is that books can show you very easily what's going on inside someone's head. Film and television are all external and so, even if I were 100% in charge of an adaptation and I had all the money in the world and all the time in the world and I could make it exactly the way I wanted to make it, there is no way to make it exactly the way it is in the book because you just can't. Then on top of that, the way I envision and see the characters and the world is probably different from how a lot of readers envision and see it, and that's something also that people don't always think about when they say "oh I wish the creator was in charge of the project". It's like when I first met Terry Brooks, the author of The Sword of Shanara, except he says it shan-ara. Which is his right and I totally respect that he wants to say it The Sword of Shan-ara, but no it’s The Sword of Sha-nara. [25]
Given your history with adaptations of your work, what's your current opinion on, especially recently with the Wheel of Time adaptation, of great Hollywood studios' relationship with creators, how they treat fantasy authors when it comes to the creative process of adaptation? I have to say the Wheel of Time adaptation was not successful for me personally. But Robert Jordan is also not alive. He was not there to participate in that adaptation. And there's a lot of difficulties with adaptation that apply to any project, not just sci-fi fantasy. One of them is that when you write a story, you go through this entire chain of thought that allows you to build the plot and the world and the characters. You explore a lot of avenues that don't work. And as a result, you end up creating whatever it is you create, and you have a whole list of reasons for why you create what you did create. When someone comes in to adapt your work, they haven't gone through that whole chain of thought. They're starting from the outside working in instead of starting from the inside working out. And thus, it can be very easy for someone adapting a book to say, "Well, why don't we change XY? Why don't we just do this?" Because they don't understand why that wouldn't work, because they haven't put in sometimes literally years of thought into why XYZ wouldn't work in this world or with these characters. So adaptation is difficult at best. Fantasy, I think is the hardest genre along with comedy in order to do successfully because if it's fantasy set in a fictitious world, you need to create the feeling in your audience that this is a different world. So accents need to be different. The costumes need to be appropriate. It needs to feel real, while also perhaps magical and mythical if you're going for a Tolkien-esque feel. Game of Thrones was successful because it was fairly realistic, and they stuck with that for the most part. The Rings of Power is a completely different approach. They went for the mythic, epic feel in a way that Game of Thrones really didn't. So it's difficult and some adaptations are more successful than others. I'm currently watching the Percy Jackson show. The main producer for Percy Jackson, Bert Salke, is also the producer on the Eragon show. And Rick Riordan has been very, very deeply involved with that adaptation. And my understanding is that it's very close to the books and it's been very successful so far. And then, of course, there are film examples of Twilight and Hunger Games and Harry Potter, which stuck to the books fairly closely and thus had quite a bit of success with the audience. Hopefully, that's the model for Eragon. And part of why I am going to be co-writing, is to make sure that the person I'm working with understands who the characters are, what's important to them, what's important to the world. And even if some things have to change in order to best present the story in a different medium, which is television, that feeling and that core of meaning is maintained, but it is a major challenge. [32]
There is a Disney Plus series that is in the very, very early stages. If you had all the power in the world, would you give Brom a little bit more time in the Disney Plus series? Probably. I've been joking we should cast Sean Bean because then he can meet an early demise. Originally, I wanted Sean Connery or Patrick Stewart. But I think we need someone a little more robust at the moment. I do love how different their vibes are. They are. Actually, Karl Urban could do it easy. He's getting crusty. [9]Casting
Do you have any dream casting for the main characters? I had a couple of people I would have liked to have seen in certain roles, but they've aged out of those roles at this point. And I'm a little bit behind on the current crop of actors because of young kids and work. I'll say this, and this might sound a little woo-woo, but the hardest part with an adaptation is capturing a vibe. Because a story or a character gives you a certain feeling, and everyone gets a different feeling from it perhaps. But replicating that feeling in a different medium is extraordinarily difficult. And so I think that's why, especially when it comes to casting, you go in with a preconceived notion, but someone else comes in and auditions and if they have the right vibe for the character, the right feel for the character, it's like, okay, they're six inches taller than I thought and a hundred pounds heavier, but it doesn't matter because they feel like the character. That said, you wanna be generally in the ballpark, but there's a reason why they cast Hugh Jackman as Wolverine even though he's like a foot taller than the character in the comic books. Hugh could do anything. I love him. Sing, dance, everything. I'm not sure I'd cast him as a hobbit, but he could probably do it. Very difficult. He'd make a better wizard. Or Ranger. Hugh Jackman as Aragorn, that'd be interesting. I actually was at Comic-Con one time when he was walking around dressed as Wolverine and everyone thought he was just a cosplayer at first. And my God, in person, the guy was ripped to the bone, tall, very, very imposing person in person. [30]Cameos
Regarding the Disney adaptation, if I am only asking you personally and if you have all the liberties in the world, what qualities will you be looking for in the person incarnating Eragon, beyond of course a resemblance and good acting? Is there anything more? I'm not sure I'm willing to commit to an answer for that at the moment, because it's such a particular thing, and there are probably a number of people who could do a good job in the role, and it's a hard role to cast because it needs to be someone who can capture youth, but at the same time be old enough to be convincing in terms of wielding a sword and having adventures. I remember when I was 15 and I thought I was so grown up and now I see 15 year olds and I look at them and go, "they're babies! they're babies!" But they're not. Because you are in many ways mostly a grown up at that point, you're just not entirely grown up. So I don't know, I think it's gonna be a long conversation to have with the producers about exactly who we're looking for and what we're looking for and then we have to see who's available. Since you mentioned that you would like to have a new face for this role, do you think it would be a good thing, if possible, to make an open casting, even in Europe, as to find the best Eragon possible? I have no idea how Disney would want to handle this, so this may be completely out of my control. I know that when Fox was looking for an actor to play Eragon, and I again, I wasn't part of the process back then, and I only found out about this after the fact, but they auditioned some insane number of young actors for the role. It was well over 1,000, it might have been more like 10,000. It was just some insane number of actors and I know they were kind of despairing. So I think an open casting would be a great idea just to attract talent from around the world. I actually think an actor from Europe might be a good pick because one of the problems with casting actors from the US unfortunately is you get the American accent, which for good or for ill, none of us really associate with an old world style fantasy story. But again, all of this is going to have be in collaboration with the producers, with whoever the show runner is, and I will have my say, but that's one say out of at least three and possibly more people. [17]
Hear me out… Danny DeVito as Galbatorix. Danny DeVito as Arya. . Odd note: DeVito and I share a birthday. [R]
When the movie that doesn't exist was not being made, they invited me out to the filming in Budapest. But I was on book tour at the time, so I couldn't do that. But they offered me a cameo, and I asked and they agreed that I could appear in the final battle as an Urgal, as the shortest Urgal ever, and that I could have my head chopped off on screen by Eragon. So that never happened, but maybe that'll get to happen with the television show. [32]Disney Princess
Would Arya make the best Disney Princess? Yes! [Y]Rides
If Disney built a ride based off the Inheritance Cycle, what would want it to be called? Dragonflight. [R]Special Effects
Disney Plus for Eragon. I cannot wait. The only advantage with it taking this long to get an Eragon adaptation made after all these years is that every year that goes by, it becomes more and more possible to actually do justice to the material in terms of the special effects. We could not even have been having the conversation about a proper television show of Eragon in 2011, for example. When Game of Thrones started coming out, doing a dragon on television with any sort of realism was just incredibly expensive. And it's still expensive, but we can do that plus more for the same amount of money. So yeah. So definitely the special effects are going to be slick. They have to be. There's two ways you go in Hollywood these days. You can either go micro budget, or you really just have to go so big that it's sort of a tent pole, and you can actually get it made. The mid-budget stuff has all been relegated to television. But there is no way to do Eragon low budget and do it any justice. So it's one of those things where the studio has to buy in and say, we like the scripts, the fan base is there we're willing to spend a god-awful amount of money to make this happen. And to be fair, that's what they did with Percy Jackson. I've heard numbers, I don't think I can share them, but it was an extremely expensive show to make, as you might imagine, and special effects look great. [29]J. Michael Straczynski
One of my other favorite properties would be Babylon 5, which managed to blend space elves and mythology with science fiction. It was one of those things where I bounced off it once or twice, and it's because it's so arc-based, and it was one of the first big shows to do that, you really have to sort of invest in it and really sign up for the long haul. And then the development of the characters and the world is surprisingly consistent. And that shouldn't be a surprise because J. Michael Straczynski wrote the vast majority of episodes himself, which has never been done before or since for a major show like that because it'd be insane to write all the episodes yourself. But I love the world building and I love the characters. And I think that one of the things that holds it back from perhaps a wider audience these days is the effects. They weren't preserved by the studio, so they looked better than they actually do now when they first aired. [Brandon Sanderson:] I almost got to make a show with Joe Michael Straczynski. Same, actually. I'll tell you the story off stage. Yeah, we don't have time for it right now, but got close. But things in Hollywood, everything's close. It may not have actually been that close. Everything's close, but nothing ever gets made. By the way, there are space wizards in Babylon 5. They're techno mages. [19]
The To Sleep in a Sea of Stars Show
Where can one keep up with the upcoming TSiaSoS show? No real news at the moment. Development got stalled out during the writers' strike. However, the project is still alive and moving forward. Things just take time in Hollywood. Lol. Also, switching from a film to a TV show took a lot more legal wrangling than we originally expected. [R]
To Sleep has been picked up as well, right? That was picked up even before it was published. Things often move slowly in Hollywood. And what happened was I worked on an adaptation for a film version of To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. And it was like ten pounds stuffed in a one pound sack. The script was not horrible, but it was unwieldy. It just couldn't work as one story. So we decided to shift to a television adaptation, and that seems to suit the material quite well. But then we had to take a very large, complicated contract that had already been negotiated and renegotiate, not from scratch, but renegotiate to shift it into television format. And that's just complicated. There were a lot of moving pieces, and it just took a long time. My lawyer has to look at it, their lawyers have to look at it. They have to talk about this. It goes back, it goes forth. And then, of course, we had the writer's strike and other stuff. So I did write the pilot for that and the second episode. So those are actually in fairly good shape. I think the next step would be we're going to be starting to look for a director to package it with then hopefully that could actually start moving forward. So yeah, along with the books and the kids, I've been rather busy. I can imagine. Are we allowed to know what platform To Sleep is going to be on? We don't know yet at the moment. [29]
The Eragon TV show is under development at Disney Plus, and I'm hopeful we're going to have some news on that front before too long here. I think things are moving along there. And I'm actually revising episode two of the television show for To Sleep in a Sea of Stars, which is also in development. Hopefully there's gonna be some news on both of those before too long. I hadn't heard about To Sleep in a Sea of Stars development. Yeah, it's been slow for a couple of reasons, but now the slowness has shifted, and now it's moving along pretty fast. [31]
I'm currently working on revisions for the second episode for television adaptation of To Sleep in a Sea of Stars, which is my big sci-fi novel [32]
With all of the success and attention that Dune has had, has there been any interest in adapting To Sleep in a Sea of Stars? I'm currently editing/revising the script for episode #2 for the TV adaptation of To Sleep. [T]
Christopher what are you working on? I'm actually revising the second episode of the television show for To Sleep in a Sea of Stars. Still in early days but it is moving forward. [Y]
2024.05.05 12:08 No_Chrysler-4-Me My brother sold the Mini-Ram and got a Silverado. That was fine. It's what happened after that made things worse
I've been gone for some time. But I'm back with a bad one. I've spoken before about how my older brother competed with me needlessly. And he did a lot of beyond stupid shit. Well he finally pushed the whole family over the edge, and got disowned. And I'm going to be explaining a lot of what happened the past year, and then some from before that. But it's too long for one post.
Well going back more than a year. Some may remember my brother getting a free minivan from his ex after the Dodge Ram truck I warned him not to buy became a moneypit. I helped him work on that truck and even repaint it. And I helped him remodel his camper trailer too. Why? Because he's my brother. And I guess some part of me deep down kept hoping he'd one day change. But he tried to take credit for things I did. Especially with remodeling the camper. And he had tantrums when called out on his lies. He also became temporarily obsessed with my truck, and even implied he'd just take it from me because he hated driving a minivan. He referred to it as a chick car. He acted like a complete child because I refused to trade vehicles, and even got our parents involved. It was just a really stupid and needless situation that my brother tried to make a hill to die on.
It started when my brother bought his Dodge Ram simply because I bought a Toyota Tundra. He had a perfectly running Subaru Baja before that. Then he said he wanted a man's truck and bought the worst barely running pile he could find that was also overpriced considering the condition. He could have at least aimed for a diesel since he wanted a dodge so bad. Lots of dumb shit happened after that. Including my brother wanting to LS swap the Ram after destroying it's engine and two transmissions. But I'm pretty sure the person who offered to do the LS swap for him was a scammer. Not to mention LS swapping any vehicle basically means replacing the ECU. But it never happened anyway since the engine and transmission my brother wanted sold before he could get them. And he had no running vehicle anymore. So my brother's ex, whom he has a young child with, gave him her old 90s Ford Windstar van. It was admittedly an ugly, dent riddled POS with the rear window busted out. But it still ran and drove surprisingly well, considering that's not one of Ford's better vehicles. And then my brother decided to cut it up into some sort of van/truck. Or a ute as they're called in some places. But he made this thing ugly. Lots of spray foam, recycled wood, and rattle can paint. Even mismatched sub-lights above the cab. He frequently raided the junkyard for parts. And he even glued a Ram badge onto the grill of that van/truck. He called it the Mini-Ram. Lots of stupid cheap mods done to that vehicle too. Someone once asked me how ugly the Mini-Ram was on a scale of 1 to 1000. And I said about a 667.
My brother did a lot of other dumb things in this time. Like following me camping just to piss me off. He was a general leech who stole power from my generator, and tried to steal beer from my camper fridge repeatedly. He was so brazen as to just walk right in, and then tried to pretend to be so drunk he didn't realize what he was doing when caught. I've spoken many times about how he stole booze from me. Until my friends and I revenge pranked him and his near equally douchey friends with a growler full of laxative tainted beer. We admittedly used way too much laxative. But my brother never stole from me again because I threatened to tell everyone about his humiliation. He crapped on his own shoes squatting in the woods. And that's just a bit of it.
Eventually my brother seemed to learn his lesson. He sold the Mini-Ram to someone who actually paid him well for it. And no, I don't know what they did with it. And I don't care. But, when the 2K he sold the Mini-Ram for was combined with his savings, my brother had a bit over 4.5K to buy a better vehicle with. And he spotted a 99 RWD Silverado truck with an extended cab for sale online. He really shouldn't have sold his only method of transportation before having a replacement vehicle ready. But I couldn't fault him for taking the deal when presented, considering what he sold. And as much as my brother annoyed me, I still cared about him enough to help. He showed up begging me to drive him over 60 miles to look at this truck he found on Markeet Prace.
So I reluctantly drove him out to see this truck. It wasn't that bad actually. Save for the rough mismatched paint, the rusty hood, the dents, the cracked windshield, and.... Actually, I guess it was kinda that bad. But not compared to the clapped out Ram my brother bought previously. The Silverado had a manual transmission, which we both confirmed shifted great as the records showed it had been rebuilt a few years before. The engine had been swapped at one time too. So it was kinda hard to gauge the odometer as it had not been rolled back for the new engine. It was at about 350.000 miles, but those numbers don't really mean jack when the engine and tranny have been replaced or rebuilt. Admittedly the engine ran like a top. The tires on the truck were in pretty damn good shape too. And on steel rims. Which I like. Very practical. I asked my brother if this was the manly kind of truck he'd been looking for. And for once he spoke logically and said that he'd rather have this than risk what happened with the Ram again. Fair enough. Besides, Chevy trucks are cool and reliable. I've always liked them. Like a rock as they say.
My brother and I scrutinized this truck in detail like a pair of pawn brokers, and talked the price down to 3K. They wanted 4K. But we could hear a sound while test driving it that was either bad ball joints or wheel bearings. We jacked up the wheels, and the bearings felt and sounded fine. But the ball joints were pretty bad. And that's not a cheap fix unless you can do it yourself. The truck was owned by the seller's father, who'd passed away a year prior. So the guy took 3K for it after we listed the problems. After driving it back, I insisted my brother get the truck to a mechanic ASAP. And he listened that time. The mechanic said the ball joints were about to come apart, and it's have caused a very bad situation if they had. And it cost him a grand to get them replaced. The truck also needed new plates ant the title registered. Which ate up a lot of the remaining budget. Then came the paint. My brother wanted the Silverado painted black right away. I told him to wait. But he didn't listen and DIY'd some body work, and then rattle-canned it with Rustoium turbo cans. The paint was full of orange peel, and overspray. He didn't even use primer. And the truck looked kinda mediocre. Then the southern weather had at it. Already numerous chips, scrapes and fades. Whatever. I stopped caring.
Youd think that'd be the end of this part. But no. There's more. What's behind door number 3? If you guessed a dumbass with a knife stuck in his ass. Then you'd win the gold! Yeah that's right. My brother got a knife in his ass.... How? How else... He and his friends all got high and decided they were gonna go outside and build a fort in the back yard of the house they rent out of scrap they found laying around. My brother while stoned wanted to show off how he can flip out a butterfly knife really fast, and decided he was gonna act like he was in an action movie, and did some sort of stupid thing where he was running and flipping out the knife really fast. The ground was wet, he slipped, and somehow got the knife in his right butt-cheek. They called me to come take him to the hospital because they were all too stoned to drive. I had to lay my brother down in the bed of my truck on a mattress because we were too scared to pull the knife out, and I drove him to the hospital like that. They rushed him in, and thankfully he only needed about 5 stiches on his butt and some antibiotics. Then I drove him back home the same way, and he insisted I take him to a drive through. He also tried to get me to pay, because...reasons! I told him to buy his own damn food.
Ater that there was more dumb BS that I won't bother getting into. But eventually my brother was seemingly getting bett...er...less bad. He was a bit sore his Silverado wasn't a 4X4, and my Tundra is. But being RWD kept him from trying to take it off-roading. He did try once, and had to pull the truck out of mud with a come-along. And he didn't try it again. He did want to drag race my truck again too. I said hell no. Not gonna risk either of our piles breaking down. And he was a complete douche about that too. I told him to stop acting like his dick was bigger than it is, and act his age. He didn't take that well. But he seemingly really was improving. Even being a much better dad to his daughter. Things got pretty good for him. Until I decided to buy a house. That's when the serious drama started.
submitted by No_Chrysler-4-Me to EntitledPeople [link] [comments]
Well going back more than a year. Some may remember my brother getting a free minivan from his ex after the Dodge Ram truck I warned him not to buy became a moneypit. I helped him work on that truck and even repaint it. And I helped him remodel his camper trailer too. Why? Because he's my brother. And I guess some part of me deep down kept hoping he'd one day change. But he tried to take credit for things I did. Especially with remodeling the camper. And he had tantrums when called out on his lies. He also became temporarily obsessed with my truck, and even implied he'd just take it from me because he hated driving a minivan. He referred to it as a chick car. He acted like a complete child because I refused to trade vehicles, and even got our parents involved. It was just a really stupid and needless situation that my brother tried to make a hill to die on.
It started when my brother bought his Dodge Ram simply because I bought a Toyota Tundra. He had a perfectly running Subaru Baja before that. Then he said he wanted a man's truck and bought the worst barely running pile he could find that was also overpriced considering the condition. He could have at least aimed for a diesel since he wanted a dodge so bad. Lots of dumb shit happened after that. Including my brother wanting to LS swap the Ram after destroying it's engine and two transmissions. But I'm pretty sure the person who offered to do the LS swap for him was a scammer. Not to mention LS swapping any vehicle basically means replacing the ECU. But it never happened anyway since the engine and transmission my brother wanted sold before he could get them. And he had no running vehicle anymore. So my brother's ex, whom he has a young child with, gave him her old 90s Ford Windstar van. It was admittedly an ugly, dent riddled POS with the rear window busted out. But it still ran and drove surprisingly well, considering that's not one of Ford's better vehicles. And then my brother decided to cut it up into some sort of van/truck. Or a ute as they're called in some places. But he made this thing ugly. Lots of spray foam, recycled wood, and rattle can paint. Even mismatched sub-lights above the cab. He frequently raided the junkyard for parts. And he even glued a Ram badge onto the grill of that van/truck. He called it the Mini-Ram. Lots of stupid cheap mods done to that vehicle too. Someone once asked me how ugly the Mini-Ram was on a scale of 1 to 1000. And I said about a 667.
My brother did a lot of other dumb things in this time. Like following me camping just to piss me off. He was a general leech who stole power from my generator, and tried to steal beer from my camper fridge repeatedly. He was so brazen as to just walk right in, and then tried to pretend to be so drunk he didn't realize what he was doing when caught. I've spoken many times about how he stole booze from me. Until my friends and I revenge pranked him and his near equally douchey friends with a growler full of laxative tainted beer. We admittedly used way too much laxative. But my brother never stole from me again because I threatened to tell everyone about his humiliation. He crapped on his own shoes squatting in the woods. And that's just a bit of it.
Eventually my brother seemed to learn his lesson. He sold the Mini-Ram to someone who actually paid him well for it. And no, I don't know what they did with it. And I don't care. But, when the 2K he sold the Mini-Ram for was combined with his savings, my brother had a bit over 4.5K to buy a better vehicle with. And he spotted a 99 RWD Silverado truck with an extended cab for sale online. He really shouldn't have sold his only method of transportation before having a replacement vehicle ready. But I couldn't fault him for taking the deal when presented, considering what he sold. And as much as my brother annoyed me, I still cared about him enough to help. He showed up begging me to drive him over 60 miles to look at this truck he found on Markeet Prace.
So I reluctantly drove him out to see this truck. It wasn't that bad actually. Save for the rough mismatched paint, the rusty hood, the dents, the cracked windshield, and.... Actually, I guess it was kinda that bad. But not compared to the clapped out Ram my brother bought previously. The Silverado had a manual transmission, which we both confirmed shifted great as the records showed it had been rebuilt a few years before. The engine had been swapped at one time too. So it was kinda hard to gauge the odometer as it had not been rolled back for the new engine. It was at about 350.000 miles, but those numbers don't really mean jack when the engine and tranny have been replaced or rebuilt. Admittedly the engine ran like a top. The tires on the truck were in pretty damn good shape too. And on steel rims. Which I like. Very practical. I asked my brother if this was the manly kind of truck he'd been looking for. And for once he spoke logically and said that he'd rather have this than risk what happened with the Ram again. Fair enough. Besides, Chevy trucks are cool and reliable. I've always liked them. Like a rock as they say.
My brother and I scrutinized this truck in detail like a pair of pawn brokers, and talked the price down to 3K. They wanted 4K. But we could hear a sound while test driving it that was either bad ball joints or wheel bearings. We jacked up the wheels, and the bearings felt and sounded fine. But the ball joints were pretty bad. And that's not a cheap fix unless you can do it yourself. The truck was owned by the seller's father, who'd passed away a year prior. So the guy took 3K for it after we listed the problems. After driving it back, I insisted my brother get the truck to a mechanic ASAP. And he listened that time. The mechanic said the ball joints were about to come apart, and it's have caused a very bad situation if they had. And it cost him a grand to get them replaced. The truck also needed new plates ant the title registered. Which ate up a lot of the remaining budget. Then came the paint. My brother wanted the Silverado painted black right away. I told him to wait. But he didn't listen and DIY'd some body work, and then rattle-canned it with Rustoium turbo cans. The paint was full of orange peel, and overspray. He didn't even use primer. And the truck looked kinda mediocre. Then the southern weather had at it. Already numerous chips, scrapes and fades. Whatever. I stopped caring.
Youd think that'd be the end of this part. But no. There's more. What's behind door number 3? If you guessed a dumbass with a knife stuck in his ass. Then you'd win the gold! Yeah that's right. My brother got a knife in his ass.... How? How else... He and his friends all got high and decided they were gonna go outside and build a fort in the back yard of the house they rent out of scrap they found laying around. My brother while stoned wanted to show off how he can flip out a butterfly knife really fast, and decided he was gonna act like he was in an action movie, and did some sort of stupid thing where he was running and flipping out the knife really fast. The ground was wet, he slipped, and somehow got the knife in his right butt-cheek. They called me to come take him to the hospital because they were all too stoned to drive. I had to lay my brother down in the bed of my truck on a mattress because we were too scared to pull the knife out, and I drove him to the hospital like that. They rushed him in, and thankfully he only needed about 5 stiches on his butt and some antibiotics. Then I drove him back home the same way, and he insisted I take him to a drive through. He also tried to get me to pay, because...reasons! I told him to buy his own damn food.
Ater that there was more dumb BS that I won't bother getting into. But eventually my brother was seemingly getting bett...er...less bad. He was a bit sore his Silverado wasn't a 4X4, and my Tundra is. But being RWD kept him from trying to take it off-roading. He did try once, and had to pull the truck out of mud with a come-along. And he didn't try it again. He did want to drag race my truck again too. I said hell no. Not gonna risk either of our piles breaking down. And he was a complete douche about that too. I told him to stop acting like his dick was bigger than it is, and act his age. He didn't take that well. But he seemingly really was improving. Even being a much better dad to his daughter. Things got pretty good for him. Until I decided to buy a house. That's when the serious drama started.
2024.05.05 07:33 Alex72598 Hell's Kitchen Season 24 - Episode 10
Previously, on Hell’s Kitchen…
After a disastrous service, Melody’s life in Hell’s Kitchen seemed over, but Chef Ramsay gave her one more chance on the blue team. The next day, the final 12 participated in the revamped Cook For Your Life 2.0, with Melody, Grace, Shane and Ramona being nominated by their teams as the weakest chefs. In the end, Ramona recaptured the magic of her signature dish and won the challenge, and the coveted Immunity Pass, an all-important safety net that could be the difference between a second chance and going home. Grace, however, had the worst dish, and that meant she would lose her jacket, with only one service to earn it back.
After the challenge, the chefs tried to sort out their issues in the dorms, but there was little time for rest, as it was soon time to get back in the kitchen and start prepping for dinner service. In service, the blue team delivered their best performance yet, led by a trio of former red team chefs. It was a different story on the red team, as Shane singlehandedly sank the kitchen on appetizers, and in spite of the team’s efforts to recover, the blue team took home a second consecutive service victory. In the post-mortem, Grace got her jacket back, but after Shane refused to take responsibility for his mistakes, Ramsay finally had enough and sent him home on the spot.
Even with Shane’s elimination, the red team still had to come up with two nominees, and they ended up choosing
Deidra: “Everett.”
And…
Deidra: ”Faye.”
After hearing from each of them though, Ramsay decided to give them one more chance, feeling that Shane’s embarrassing exit was sufficient. Now, it’s time for the final 11 to prove that they have what it takes to become the executive chef of Gordon Ramsay Steak in Vancouver, British Columbia…
https://reddit.com/link/1ckk2z2/video/xbxcp9wnnjyc1/player
And now, the continuation of Hell’s Kitchen…
With Shane’s stunning downfall still on everyone’s mind, the chefs returned to the dorms with a very stark contrast in the mood between the two teams. The blue team was elated to have just completed a nearly perfect service, as Melody said in her confessional that she felt like she had earned her place on the team, especially after being nominated in Cook For Your Life. Meanwhile, Thomas said in his confessional that he had proven he could lead his team, and was looking forward to getting more opportunities to stand out as the crowd continued to thin. Back in the dorms, Lauren and Melody continued to be excited over their performance, but Thomas was ready to move on, saying they couldn’t afford to rest on this for too long. Carole jokingly told him to lighten up a bit, saying in her confessional that he always ended up being the wet blanket around here. Later that night, Travis ended up talking with Carole, and he admitted that he was still feeling the effects from his injury, and the pain was difficult to hide in service. Carole was surprised he would say anything, as someone might use that against him, but he said he trusted her. Carole said in her confessional that it would suck to lose Travis now, as he had been one of their strongest chefs, and tried to encourage him to fight through it.
On the red team’s side of the dorm, despite their initial delight at Shane’s elimination, Michael was frustrated that they had lost again in spite of the fact that he had another good night, as he said in his confessional that individually standing out on a bad team wasn’t much to brag about. Faye admitted that she was definitely missing Thomas, Lauren and Melody right now, to which Everett agreed, as he said that it was like Ramsay took the core of the red team and gave it to the blue team. Ramona said it was starting to feel lonely around here with only five chefs left on the team, and said in her confessional that she felt a lot safer now thanks to her immunity pass, but knew she would have to step it up in service to keep the team from turning on her. Deidra said that with Shane gone, there were no excuses for any of them to hide behind their teammates or an immunity pass. Ramona took offense and said Deidra had no room to talk either. Faye broke them up quickly and took Ramona to the bedrooms, where they had a private talk, with Faye saying she understood being upset at being called out, but that it was important to stay focused and fight back with cooking rather than words. Ramona said in her confessional that she needed that pep talk and was grateful to Faye for seeing her side of things.
The chefs eventually turned in for the night and tried to get some sleep to prepare for whatever awaited tomorrow.
Challenge
The next day, the teams came downstairs, and were greeted by Ramsay standing next to a large wheel which Everett said in his confessional looked like it came straight out of a game show. Ramsay told the chefs that creativity and the ability to build a dish from the ground up were critical skills for any chef, and that was why he was bringing back a challenge from season 23, Wheel of Fortune. Before they began, Ramsay explained the rules.The teams would take a total of 6 spins each to determine their ingredients, however, there would be further surprises lurking within. First, instead of getting an ingredient, they might get a Steal, which was self explanatory. Secondly, they might get an ingredient with a swap symbol over it, which gave the spinning team the option to exchange that ingredient with one from the opposing team.
Melody said in her confessional that she was a huge fan of game shows, and couldn’t wait to get started. With that, Ramsay asked for a volunteer from the blue team, and Melody eagerly stepped forward first. After spinning the wheel, it landed on miso. Deidra spun for the red team and got chives. Grace got fennel for the blue team. Ramona got potatoes for the red team. Thomas got carrots for the blue team. Faye got duck for the red team, which was the first protein earned in the challenge. Lauren said in her confessional that the blue team could really use a protein right about now, and with her spin, she landed on the Steal space. Without hesitation, she took the red team’s duck, which annoyed Faye in her confessional. Michael went next and got daikon for the red team. Carole got tomatoes for the blue team. Everett was nervous in his confessional, as he said luck had never exactly been kind to him in these kinds of games, but he damn sure needed a protein right now. Fortunately, he was able to get Grouper for the red team. On the final spin, Travis got couscous for the blue team. Deidra spun again for the red team, and landed on cherries, but since the space had a swap symbol, Ramsay told the red team to discuss amongst themselves whether or not they wanted to keep it. After a few moments of discussion, Michael announced that the red team was going to swap the cherries for the blue team’s miso.
With the ingredients decided, Ramsay told both teams that they had 45 minutes to turn their haul into a stunning dish, starting from right now. The teams rushed into the kitchen and began brainstorming ideas. In the blue kitchen, the team had duck, fennel, carrots, tomatoes, couscous and cherries. Melody wanted to make duck leg confit, whilst Thomas suggested seared duck breast and Grace wanted to make a roasted duck. The blue team also had trouble agreeing on how to use their sides, as Thomas and Grace each wanted to make a different type of sauce, while Lauren and Melody said they should have a vegetable medley in the couscous. Lauren said in her confessional that there were simply too many egos here, and everybody wanted to lead. Travis said in his confessional that he didn’t want any part of the bickering and was determined to serve Chef Ramsay a perfect plate, regardless of what was on it. Thomas kept pushing his ideas for the dish, asking the team to trust him on this, and finally, they seemed to come around to it, with Lauren saying in her confessional that she hoped Thomas knew what he was doing. With Thomas directing in the blue kitchen, the chefs got to work, though Grace was still resentful, and grumbled in her confessional that she felt like she was on the Thomas team rather than the blue team. Meanwhile, Melody was impressed by Thomas’ leadership in her confessional, and said the blue team was running like clockwork right now.
In the red kitchen, the chefs had grouper, miso, chives, potato and daikon. Despite having only five ingredients, Faye was still confident that they could win this challenge, as she and Michael had come up with a plan for their dish after swapping the cherries for miso. Michael explained that they should try an Asian-flavored dish, which the others got on board with quickly. Ramona said in her confessional that it was a great idea, and she was determined to play a role in helping her team win, especially with her nomination in Cook For Your Life still fresh on everyone’s minds. Faye tried to get the team organized, and assigned Deidra to cook the grouper after being assured by the latter that she had this. Deidra said confidently in her confessional that the red team had nothing to worry about, because the queen of the fish station was here. The red team continued to be in good spirits as Everett and Ramona exchanged enthusiastic words, though Michael told them both to hold off on the celebrations and stay focused.
With the 45 minutes nearing the end. Ramsay called out for the teams to start plating, and after counting down the final seconds, told both teams to stop and bring their plates to the pass to be judged. The blue team presented their fish first, which was introduced by Thomas as a pan-seared duck breast with a cherry sauce, along with fennel, grilled carrots and tomatoes over couscous. Ramsay noted that the presentation was stunning, and asked where the idea for the dish came from. Thomas claimed credit for the protein, saying Lauren and Melody helped out as well. Grace was annoyed in her confessional, as she had suggested the cherry sauce. Ramsay asked Travis and Carole what they contributed, to which Travis admitted it was hard to get a word in, and Carole agreed with him. That annoyed Thomas, as he said in his confessional that anyone here was free to speak up if they wanted to. Nonetheless, Ramsay began tasting the dish. After saying that the duck was beautifully cooked, he noted that the sauce seemed a bit watery, but still tasted nice. He also noted that the couscous seemed slightly undercooked, but the vegetables were delicious, and he said it was a well-made dish overall. Moving on to the red team, Ramsay asked Faye what they made, and she introduced their dish as miso-glazed grouper seasoned with chives, with a garnish of roasted potatoes and daikon. Presentation wise, Ramsay praised the vibrant colors of the dish and said he couldn’t wait to taste it, but first, wanted to know who did what. Deidra claimed the fish, saying in her confessional that it was time for her to step up and prove that she could lead her team to victory in a challenge. Upon tasting, Ramsay said the grouper…was cooked beautifully, which led to a celebration by Deidra in her confessional, as she said that of course, she knocked it out of the park. Overall, Ramsay said the flavors were spot on, despite having one less ingredient, and that this was going to be an extremely difficult decision. In the end though, he announced that one dish had a slight edge…
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The red team, as their dish felt more complete and put their protein front and center, whilst the blue team’s dish had seemed divided between the garnish and the protein. The red team celebrated their win, with Michael being absolutely fired up in his confessional, and he said that the red team had badly needed this win. Meanwhile, Deidra said in her confessional that she was just getting warmed up, and couldn’t wait to kick the blue team’s ass again in service. Grace blamed Thomas for the blue team’s loss in her confessional, and said the blue team needed to get its shit together, and quickly. Thomas said in his confessional that the blue team’s dish should have won hands down, and would have if not for Grace’s meddling.
Reward / Punishment
Ramsay had the teams line up and told the red team that they were in for a fun day of horseback riding in the scenic Santa Monica mountains, which would include a special picnic lunch prepared by Ramsay himself. The red team whooped and cheered, and Ramsay teased Everett by saying he looked way too excited about this. Everett said he was a cowboy at heart, and in his confessional, said the entire experience of Hell’s Kitchen was worth it for this. Turning to the blue team, Ramsay asked what went wrong, since they had an advantage by having an extra ingredient. Travis said their teamwork left a lot to be desired, which Ramsay said was a damn understatement. Then, he said they were in for a long day, as not only did both kitchens and the dining room need cleaning, but as he had decided to put the red team’s winning dish on the menu for tomorrow night’s service, the blue team would need to bring in and unpack the entire shipment of grouper. Ramsay then reminded Melody that she still had her punishment pass, and could use it now if she wanted to, but Melody said she couldn’t bring herself to replace anyone on her old team, and decided to keep the punishment.
With that settled, Ramsay told the red team to hurry up and get changed into the outfits, as the limo awaited them. When they got upstairs, they found cowboy and cowgirl outfits waiting for them, which Everett and Faye were the most excited about, and after Ramona and Michael said they had never been horseback riding before, Faye said they were about to learn how it was really done. The red team came back downstairs and exchanged banter with the blue team, who were already starting to clean the kitchens as part of their punishment, and Deidra promised to bring them back a souvenir. As they walked out the door, Lauren told Melody that she should’ve used her pass to replace Deidra, though Melody joked that she wasn’t sure if the blue team could handle that level of sass. Meanwhile, the red team’s spirits were as high as they had been in some time, with Michael saying he felt good, and looked good, while Ramona admitted she was nervous to go horseback riding for the first time, but Everett tried to reassure her. Soon, they had reached their destination, and, led by a guide, began their scenic trek through the mountains on horseback. The red team were in high spirits as they took in the beauty of nature, with Faye saying in her confessional that the red team really needed this win to give them a confidence boost going into tomorrow night’s service. After some time, the chefs were led to a location with a stunning view of the landscape, where their picnic supplies, and Chef Ramsay, were waiting for them. Ramsay asked them how their ride had been, to which Ramona said she couldn’t decide whether she was thrilled or terrified. The others laughed and everyone joined Ramsay for lunch, as they exchanged small talk and continued to bond as a team.
Back in Hell’s Kitchen, the blue team were trying to come to terms with their defeat in the challenge, as Thomas was still pissed off that they let it slip away, and was also upset with Travis and Carole for what they had said to Ramsay earlier, but Carole said it was true, and it felt like they hardly had a voice at all. Grace became annoyed as well though, and said if anyone was being shut down constantly, it was her. Travis said they were cooking like individuals right now, and that was why he had made his comment earlier. Lauren agreed and said that the blue team had the best chefs, but needed to check their egos at the door and work as a team. Carole was still feeling down and out, and Melody tried to comfort her, as she said she had felt similarly excluded on the red team and knew what she was going through. Travis also came over and said the blue team needed her. Carole said in her confessional that she couldn’t give up on herself now and was determined to make her voice heard. While the blue team tried to sort out their issues, they still had to finish cleaning up the kitchens and dining room, and, as they heard the dreaded sound of the delivery truck pulling in, Lauren said in her confessional that it was just getting worse and worse. The chefs all ran out and began to bring in the grouper, which wore them all out. However, as they finished, Melody noticed that they seemed to be overstocked, and Sous Chef Jon told them to check the invoice, upon which they realized that Grace hadn’t been keeping track of what they were bringing in, despite taking that role for herself. Lauren was pissed off and said in her confessional that Grace had one damn job and fucked it up. Due to her carelessness, the blue team was forced to return several boxes of grouper to the truck.
The red team returned to Hell’s Kitchen later that night, and joined the blue team in the dorms, where they annoyed them by talking about their day out in the mountains, with Grace saying in her confessional that she didn’t really need to hear about how much fun the red team had when she was still trying to get the stench of fish out of her system. Faye, though, said she wished Lauren and Melody could have been with them, and Lauren admitted in her confessional that it was impossible to stay mad at Faye. Michael said it felt great to go on a reward without Shane, and he was looking forward to service tomorrow, which the others on the red team agreed with. The teams returned to their respective sides of the dorms and continued to talk amongst themselves for a while before finally turning in for the night.
Pre-Service
The next day, the chefs were allowed to hang out in the dorms a bit later than usual, but were eventually brought downstairs to begin prepping the kitchens for tonight’s service. In the blue kitchen, Melody tried to lift her teammates’ spirits by saying they had this, and Lauren said in her confessional that it was much-needed encouragement after the debacle of yesterday’s challenge, and she was proud of Melody for stepping up as a leader. Thomas agreed and said that there were no excuses not to win this service going away, while Travis said in his confessional that he was determined to fight through the pain tonight and deliver his best performance yet.
While the blue team were fired up and ready to get back on track, the red team were hoping to build off their win in the latest challenge and notch up another win tonight. Michael said in his confessional that Faye was the only one he could fully trust here, and it would be up to the two of them to lead the red team to the promised land. Meanwhile, Everett was amped up and ready to go, saying he hoped Ramsay would put him on an important station, as he needed to bounce back after a few up and down services. Ramona felt similarly and said in her confessional that any slip ups would cause her team to nominate her, even if it was just to make her lose her immunity.
The teams wrapped up their prep, and Ramsay gathered them one more time to say that he was looking for leaders to start emerging from both teams, and with that, he sent them back to their sections and told Marino to open Hell’s Kitchen.
Service
The doors opened in Hell’s Kitchen once again, and the usual illustrious crowd of Hollywood elites and celebrities soon filled the seats and began to send in their orders.
For the blue team, Grace and Carole were on appetizers, Travis was on fish, Melody was on garnish, and Thomas and Lauren were on meat. Grace got off to a rough start though, as she asked Carole how long she needed for 3 capellini, only to be reminded that there were 2 capellini on the first table, and Ramsay told her to wake up. The two of them did manage to get the first few tables out alongside perfect scallops from Travis with no further incident, but Grace served mushy, overcooked risottos twice, which pissed Ramsay off, as he schooled her for making such a basic mistake at this stage. Carole, meanwhile, got lost on orders, and Grace did little to help by calling out inconsistent times, which caused the entire station to drag, and Carole said in her confessional that Grace needed to stop screwing the station over, while Grace said in her confessional that Carole was lost and doing nothing but making her life more difficult. Eventually, they were finally able to get some food out, with Carole doing her best to support Grace and impressing Ramsay with her leadership. Thanks to Carole and Travis continuing to have a strong night on fish, appetizers finally began to make their way out into the dining room, and eventually, they were ready to get started on entrees.
In the red kitchen, Michael was on appetizers, Deidra was on fish, Everett was on garnish, and the duo of Faye and Ramona were on meat. Michael said in his confessional that it was a big deal to be given the responsibility of running apps alone, and he was determined not to let his team down. For the first table, Michael was able to serve perfect risotto and capellini, but Deidra on fish served up raw scallops twice, and Ramsay schooled her for having a messy station with pans everywhere, asking her if she was cooking for a fast food joint. Deidra then unbelievably served rubbery scallops, and Ramsay said if she sent one more like that, she was gone. Diedra did manage to get it together and make acceptable scallops on her fourth attempt, but food continued to leave the kitchen slowly as she got lost on times and struggled to communicate effectively with Michael. With the station moving sluggishly, Michael became more frustrated, especially as he realized that his risottos were overcooked while waiting for Deidra, and he admitted to Ramsay that he was pissed off, to which Ramsay said that now Michael knew how he felt every night, and told apps and fish to get it together right now. Michael said in his confessional that as pissed as he was, he needed Deidra to work with him, and with his leadership, the red team did manage to wrap up appetizers and move on to entrees, though still behind the blue team.
While the red team tried to keep up, the focus in the blue kitchen now shifted to Thomas and Lauren on meat and Melody on garnish, who were hoping to give Travis more support on fish than he had gotten from apps. Thomas said in his confessional that it was nice to be paired with a competent chef who knew what the hell she was doing, and together, he and Lauren managed to serve up perfect Wellington and chicken for the first table. Meanwhile, Travis was busy dealing with orders for halibut and the grouper special, but he was able to get all of his orders accepted, and with Melody being active and vocal on garnish, the first table of entrees went out smoothly. Lauren had a brief stumble as she served rare Wellingtons instead of mid-rare and dragged on the refire. Thanks to good time management from Melody, though, they were able to get back on track. Travis had some struggles keeping up with the large amount of orders for the special, and served undercooked grouper for a table due to rushing the order, but Ramsay told him to take his time, and Travis said in his confessional that he was afraid of seeming lethargic given his injury, and may have been overcompensating. However, after he calmed down, he was able to bounce back with beautifully cooked grouper. Despite these issues, the blue team pushed through and delivered another strong service, finishing entrees on a high, and Ramsay said it was a job well done as he told them to clear down.
Back in the red kitchen, Faye and Ramona hoped to lead the red team to a strong finish after an uneven start. Faye managed to get her Wellingtons accepted, however, Ramona served raw chicken for the first table, and Deidra only made matters worse by serving raw grouper, which pissed Ramsay off, as he told her it was her own dish, on her supposed strongest station. Deidra said in her confessional that she needed to get her shit together, and quickly. Entrees continued to drag, however, as Everett and Deidra called out contradictory times and confused the entire kitchen. Ramona was able to bounce back with her second attempt at the chicken, however, and with Faye keeping up her solid performance, food did finally start to trickle out into the dining room. Ramsay continued to be frustrated, though, as he schooled Everett for sending up burnt potatoes, telling him there was a difference between roasted and fucking scorched. Faye also sent up overcooked Wellingtons, but was able to quickly bounce back on her next attempt, however the sauce from Everett was cold and bland, and he said in his confessional that he didn’t know what the hell it was about him and the garnish station that always seemed to end badly. Deidra continued to have a rough night despite being on her self-proclaimed strongest station, as she sent up overcooked and undercooked grouper, and got lost on how much salmon was needed for another table. Ramsay had enough and told Michael to get over there and show her how to make a fish, With Michael now helping out on fish, Faye and Ramona managing to get it together on meat, and Everett finally calming down on garnish, the red team managed to complete service several minutes behind the blue team.
Post-Mortem
Ramsay had the teams line up and said that before he went any further, it was clear that the blue team had won service, as he said they looked much more like a team tonight than they had during the challenge. Travis was pumped up to have won, saying in his confessional that the blue team needed this. With that out of the way, Ramsay turned his attention to the red team, saying that he had never seen a team fall so far after the blazing start they had to the season, and he wondered aloud if these chefs had just been hiding behind the chefs he put on the blue team. However, he did have high praise for one individual: Michael, as he had not only run his own station, but also saved the fish station, and that was why he was the Best of the Worst tonight. Ramsay then instructed Michael to think long and hard about the two chefs he thought would improve his team by going home tonight, and with that, he dismissed both teams back to the dorms.
In the dorms, the nervous energy in the red team was palpable, as each of the four remaining chefs knew they had a 50/50 chance of going on the chopping block and potentially going home. Michael said in his confessional that as much of an honor as it was, he hated to be directly responsible for sending anyone home, but knew there were still weak links here who were holding them back. He decided to talk to everyone individually, starting with Faye, as he assured her that she definitely wasn’t going up, and he needed her to help him get this team back to its winning ways. Next, he talked with Ramona, saying he respected her tenacity, but the raw chicken was simply not acceptable at this stage, but she defended herself by saying she had a solid service from that point. Michael told her she couldn’t take anything for granted, and he was worried that the longer she kept the immunity pass, the more it would go to her head. Ramona assured him it wouldn’t, and said in her confessional that she would be pissed to lose her immunity over one mistake in service. Next was Deidra, and Michael told her right away that she was at the top of his list simply for her poor performance on fish, considering it was supposed to be her strength, and her lack of a voice throughout the season. Deidra tried to defend herself by saying she had a lot more to offer the team than the other three. Finally, he talked with Everett, saying he was a great guy and someone he wanted to join him in the black jacket phase, but his issues on garnish were starting to become a problem, and it seemed like he couldn’t overcome even basic mistakes. Everett admitted he made his mistakes, but said Deidra was definitely the worst tonight, and should be the one going home.
On the blue team’s side of the dorm, Melody and Lauren celebrated their win and spent most of the night talking amongst themselves, which annoyed Grace, as she said in her confessional that it seemed like they were a team of two more than part of the blue team, and she was sure they would team up to vote her out if they had a chance. Carole asked Travis how he was feeling and he said that winning made everything better, though he admitted it still hurt like hell each time he took a step. Thomas said in his confessional that he was happy with the blue team’s performance, but they could always do better, and he went over to join Travis and Carole, sharing a rare smile with them.
Elimination Ceremony
The red team entered the dining room on the back of a fourth straight loss in service, with Ramsay asking what the hell had happened to the team he had seen at the start of the season, because right now, they seemed to be sleepwalking. He called on Michael, asking him for his first nominee and why. Michael announced that he had chosen Deidra, due to inconsistent performances and failing on her strongest station. Ramsay asked for the second nominee and why. Ramona and Everett both squirmed nervously, but finally, Michael announced that he was nominating…
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Everett, because he had a hard time communicating on garnish, and made several basic mistakes in his cooking. Ramsay accepted both nominees and told Deidra and Everett to step forward, first asking Deidra why should stay in Hell’s Kitchen.
deliberation music
Deidra: “I should stay here ‘cause I’ve never given up on anything I’ve done here, chef. I work hard on every station, I give 110% every service.”
Ramsay said that at her rate, she needed to be giving closer to 200%, because what she was giving him now wasn’t close to good enough.
Deidra: “Then I’ll give you that, chef. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
Ramsay said she could start by learning to cook her own dish from the challenge, then moved on to Everett, asking him why he should stay in Hell’s Kitchen after he brought the kitchen to a standstill on garnish.
Everett: “Communication was a challenge tonight, chef, Deidra and I never really got on the same page-”
Ramsay stopped him and said he wasn’t looking for any sugarcoating. He wanted to know, right now, if Everett believed he was a better chef than Deidra, and why.
Everett: “Deidra is a good friend of mine, chef, but yes, I believe I’m stronger than her.”
Deidra was shocked at this, and started to cut in before Ramsay shut her down.
Everett: “I think I have the leadership, I have the cooking skill. Once I calm down and get out of my own head, I can damn sure do this, I know that.”
Ramsay then asked Deidra if she thought she was a stronger chef than Everett, and why.
Deidra: “I know I’m stronger. I have more experience, I know how to run a kitchen, and basically chef, I think Everett’s communication caused our problems tonight.”
Ramsay sighed, saying he faced a tough choice now, but there was one chef he felt could not get any more chances.
Ramsay: “The person leaving Hell’s Kitchen is…”
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Ramsay: “Deidra. Your time here, unfortunately, is over. Please, take off your jacket, and leave Hell’s Kitchen.”
Elimination music
Ramsay: “I love the dedication and the work ethic, but if you can’t run one station, and your preferred station at that, I just can’t see you running a brigade. Thank you for trying out.”
Deidra thanled Ramsay and they shook hands as Deidra walked out the door.
Deidra’s comment
“It’s a bitter pill to swallow, leavin’ Hell’s Kitchen when I know I had so much more to show of myself as a leader. I know I can cook a damn fish, but tonight, for whatever reason, I just fucked it up. I’m gonna bounce back from this, it’s not gonna keep me down. So Chef Ramsay, thanks for the opportunity, but I hope that one day, I can prove you wrong.”
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After Deidra’s elimination, Ramsay said that given what he had witnessed tonight, and over the past several nights…
Ramsay: “I am not done.”
Dramatic music
Ramsay: “Thomas, Lauren, Melody…ever since I sent you three to the blue team, they’ve gone up, and the red team has nosedived. I want you three to talk amongst yourselves, and decide by tomorrow morning which one of you is going back to the red team.”
With his latest curveball still ringing in the air, Ramsay told the teams to go back to the dorms, as they had a lot of things to discuss. As they exited the dining room, several chefs had confessionals. Lauren said that just as the blue team seemed to have figured it out, Ramsay had thrown a wrench in the system again, and the question was, would she choose her friendship with Melody, or a chance to stand out as a leader on the red team? Thomas said that this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for, and while he had to share leadership with Lauren on the blue team, he knew this could be his chance to show Ramsay that he was the most qualified chef here to run Gordon Ramsay Steak. Melody said she didn’t want to be separated from Lauren again, but had to admit that it might be a chance to redeem herself after the way she left the red team. Michael said that this was great news, as he felt like he and Faye were doing all the heavy lifting around here, and they desperately needed one of their old teammates to help them regain their edge and start winning some damn services. Ramona said that she hoped Melody would come back, as they really needed some cheering up right now. Finally, Everett said he dodged a huge bullet just now, and it was time to unleash the beast, as there was nowhere to hide in the final 10.
Placement
https://preview.redd.it/86b13ie4ojyc1.png?width=2520&format=png&auto=webp&s=39f2a6486bedc5c7b54644bfece91652a1a6e46d
submitted by Alex72598 to HellsKitchenFanFics [link] [comments]
After a disastrous service, Melody’s life in Hell’s Kitchen seemed over, but Chef Ramsay gave her one more chance on the blue team. The next day, the final 12 participated in the revamped Cook For Your Life 2.0, with Melody, Grace, Shane and Ramona being nominated by their teams as the weakest chefs. In the end, Ramona recaptured the magic of her signature dish and won the challenge, and the coveted Immunity Pass, an all-important safety net that could be the difference between a second chance and going home. Grace, however, had the worst dish, and that meant she would lose her jacket, with only one service to earn it back.
After the challenge, the chefs tried to sort out their issues in the dorms, but there was little time for rest, as it was soon time to get back in the kitchen and start prepping for dinner service. In service, the blue team delivered their best performance yet, led by a trio of former red team chefs. It was a different story on the red team, as Shane singlehandedly sank the kitchen on appetizers, and in spite of the team’s efforts to recover, the blue team took home a second consecutive service victory. In the post-mortem, Grace got her jacket back, but after Shane refused to take responsibility for his mistakes, Ramsay finally had enough and sent him home on the spot.
Even with Shane’s elimination, the red team still had to come up with two nominees, and they ended up choosing
Deidra: “Everett.”
And…
Deidra: ”Faye.”
After hearing from each of them though, Ramsay decided to give them one more chance, feeling that Shane’s embarrassing exit was sufficient. Now, it’s time for the final 11 to prove that they have what it takes to become the executive chef of Gordon Ramsay Steak in Vancouver, British Columbia…
https://reddit.com/link/1ckk2z2/video/xbxcp9wnnjyc1/player
And now, the continuation of Hell’s Kitchen…
With Shane’s stunning downfall still on everyone’s mind, the chefs returned to the dorms with a very stark contrast in the mood between the two teams. The blue team was elated to have just completed a nearly perfect service, as Melody said in her confessional that she felt like she had earned her place on the team, especially after being nominated in Cook For Your Life. Meanwhile, Thomas said in his confessional that he had proven he could lead his team, and was looking forward to getting more opportunities to stand out as the crowd continued to thin. Back in the dorms, Lauren and Melody continued to be excited over their performance, but Thomas was ready to move on, saying they couldn’t afford to rest on this for too long. Carole jokingly told him to lighten up a bit, saying in her confessional that he always ended up being the wet blanket around here. Later that night, Travis ended up talking with Carole, and he admitted that he was still feeling the effects from his injury, and the pain was difficult to hide in service. Carole was surprised he would say anything, as someone might use that against him, but he said he trusted her. Carole said in her confessional that it would suck to lose Travis now, as he had been one of their strongest chefs, and tried to encourage him to fight through it.
On the red team’s side of the dorm, despite their initial delight at Shane’s elimination, Michael was frustrated that they had lost again in spite of the fact that he had another good night, as he said in his confessional that individually standing out on a bad team wasn’t much to brag about. Faye admitted that she was definitely missing Thomas, Lauren and Melody right now, to which Everett agreed, as he said that it was like Ramsay took the core of the red team and gave it to the blue team. Ramona said it was starting to feel lonely around here with only five chefs left on the team, and said in her confessional that she felt a lot safer now thanks to her immunity pass, but knew she would have to step it up in service to keep the team from turning on her. Deidra said that with Shane gone, there were no excuses for any of them to hide behind their teammates or an immunity pass. Ramona took offense and said Deidra had no room to talk either. Faye broke them up quickly and took Ramona to the bedrooms, where they had a private talk, with Faye saying she understood being upset at being called out, but that it was important to stay focused and fight back with cooking rather than words. Ramona said in her confessional that she needed that pep talk and was grateful to Faye for seeing her side of things.
The chefs eventually turned in for the night and tried to get some sleep to prepare for whatever awaited tomorrow.
Challenge
The next day, the teams came downstairs, and were greeted by Ramsay standing next to a large wheel which Everett said in his confessional looked like it came straight out of a game show. Ramsay told the chefs that creativity and the ability to build a dish from the ground up were critical skills for any chef, and that was why he was bringing back a challenge from season 23, Wheel of Fortune. Before they began, Ramsay explained the rules.The teams would take a total of 6 spins each to determine their ingredients, however, there would be further surprises lurking within. First, instead of getting an ingredient, they might get a Steal, which was self explanatory. Secondly, they might get an ingredient with a swap symbol over it, which gave the spinning team the option to exchange that ingredient with one from the opposing team.
Melody said in her confessional that she was a huge fan of game shows, and couldn’t wait to get started. With that, Ramsay asked for a volunteer from the blue team, and Melody eagerly stepped forward first. After spinning the wheel, it landed on miso. Deidra spun for the red team and got chives. Grace got fennel for the blue team. Ramona got potatoes for the red team. Thomas got carrots for the blue team. Faye got duck for the red team, which was the first protein earned in the challenge. Lauren said in her confessional that the blue team could really use a protein right about now, and with her spin, she landed on the Steal space. Without hesitation, she took the red team’s duck, which annoyed Faye in her confessional. Michael went next and got daikon for the red team. Carole got tomatoes for the blue team. Everett was nervous in his confessional, as he said luck had never exactly been kind to him in these kinds of games, but he damn sure needed a protein right now. Fortunately, he was able to get Grouper for the red team. On the final spin, Travis got couscous for the blue team. Deidra spun again for the red team, and landed on cherries, but since the space had a swap symbol, Ramsay told the red team to discuss amongst themselves whether or not they wanted to keep it. After a few moments of discussion, Michael announced that the red team was going to swap the cherries for the blue team’s miso.
With the ingredients decided, Ramsay told both teams that they had 45 minutes to turn their haul into a stunning dish, starting from right now. The teams rushed into the kitchen and began brainstorming ideas. In the blue kitchen, the team had duck, fennel, carrots, tomatoes, couscous and cherries. Melody wanted to make duck leg confit, whilst Thomas suggested seared duck breast and Grace wanted to make a roasted duck. The blue team also had trouble agreeing on how to use their sides, as Thomas and Grace each wanted to make a different type of sauce, while Lauren and Melody said they should have a vegetable medley in the couscous. Lauren said in her confessional that there were simply too many egos here, and everybody wanted to lead. Travis said in his confessional that he didn’t want any part of the bickering and was determined to serve Chef Ramsay a perfect plate, regardless of what was on it. Thomas kept pushing his ideas for the dish, asking the team to trust him on this, and finally, they seemed to come around to it, with Lauren saying in her confessional that she hoped Thomas knew what he was doing. With Thomas directing in the blue kitchen, the chefs got to work, though Grace was still resentful, and grumbled in her confessional that she felt like she was on the Thomas team rather than the blue team. Meanwhile, Melody was impressed by Thomas’ leadership in her confessional, and said the blue team was running like clockwork right now.
In the red kitchen, the chefs had grouper, miso, chives, potato and daikon. Despite having only five ingredients, Faye was still confident that they could win this challenge, as she and Michael had come up with a plan for their dish after swapping the cherries for miso. Michael explained that they should try an Asian-flavored dish, which the others got on board with quickly. Ramona said in her confessional that it was a great idea, and she was determined to play a role in helping her team win, especially with her nomination in Cook For Your Life still fresh on everyone’s minds. Faye tried to get the team organized, and assigned Deidra to cook the grouper after being assured by the latter that she had this. Deidra said confidently in her confessional that the red team had nothing to worry about, because the queen of the fish station was here. The red team continued to be in good spirits as Everett and Ramona exchanged enthusiastic words, though Michael told them both to hold off on the celebrations and stay focused.
With the 45 minutes nearing the end. Ramsay called out for the teams to start plating, and after counting down the final seconds, told both teams to stop and bring their plates to the pass to be judged. The blue team presented their fish first, which was introduced by Thomas as a pan-seared duck breast with a cherry sauce, along with fennel, grilled carrots and tomatoes over couscous. Ramsay noted that the presentation was stunning, and asked where the idea for the dish came from. Thomas claimed credit for the protein, saying Lauren and Melody helped out as well. Grace was annoyed in her confessional, as she had suggested the cherry sauce. Ramsay asked Travis and Carole what they contributed, to which Travis admitted it was hard to get a word in, and Carole agreed with him. That annoyed Thomas, as he said in his confessional that anyone here was free to speak up if they wanted to. Nonetheless, Ramsay began tasting the dish. After saying that the duck was beautifully cooked, he noted that the sauce seemed a bit watery, but still tasted nice. He also noted that the couscous seemed slightly undercooked, but the vegetables were delicious, and he said it was a well-made dish overall. Moving on to the red team, Ramsay asked Faye what they made, and she introduced their dish as miso-glazed grouper seasoned with chives, with a garnish of roasted potatoes and daikon. Presentation wise, Ramsay praised the vibrant colors of the dish and said he couldn’t wait to taste it, but first, wanted to know who did what. Deidra claimed the fish, saying in her confessional that it was time for her to step up and prove that she could lead her team to victory in a challenge. Upon tasting, Ramsay said the grouper…was cooked beautifully, which led to a celebration by Deidra in her confessional, as she said that of course, she knocked it out of the park. Overall, Ramsay said the flavors were spot on, despite having one less ingredient, and that this was going to be an extremely difficult decision. In the end though, he announced that one dish had a slight edge…
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The red team, as their dish felt more complete and put their protein front and center, whilst the blue team’s dish had seemed divided between the garnish and the protein. The red team celebrated their win, with Michael being absolutely fired up in his confessional, and he said that the red team had badly needed this win. Meanwhile, Deidra said in her confessional that she was just getting warmed up, and couldn’t wait to kick the blue team’s ass again in service. Grace blamed Thomas for the blue team’s loss in her confessional, and said the blue team needed to get its shit together, and quickly. Thomas said in his confessional that the blue team’s dish should have won hands down, and would have if not for Grace’s meddling.
Reward / Punishment
Ramsay had the teams line up and told the red team that they were in for a fun day of horseback riding in the scenic Santa Monica mountains, which would include a special picnic lunch prepared by Ramsay himself. The red team whooped and cheered, and Ramsay teased Everett by saying he looked way too excited about this. Everett said he was a cowboy at heart, and in his confessional, said the entire experience of Hell’s Kitchen was worth it for this. Turning to the blue team, Ramsay asked what went wrong, since they had an advantage by having an extra ingredient. Travis said their teamwork left a lot to be desired, which Ramsay said was a damn understatement. Then, he said they were in for a long day, as not only did both kitchens and the dining room need cleaning, but as he had decided to put the red team’s winning dish on the menu for tomorrow night’s service, the blue team would need to bring in and unpack the entire shipment of grouper. Ramsay then reminded Melody that she still had her punishment pass, and could use it now if she wanted to, but Melody said she couldn’t bring herself to replace anyone on her old team, and decided to keep the punishment.
With that settled, Ramsay told the red team to hurry up and get changed into the outfits, as the limo awaited them. When they got upstairs, they found cowboy and cowgirl outfits waiting for them, which Everett and Faye were the most excited about, and after Ramona and Michael said they had never been horseback riding before, Faye said they were about to learn how it was really done. The red team came back downstairs and exchanged banter with the blue team, who were already starting to clean the kitchens as part of their punishment, and Deidra promised to bring them back a souvenir. As they walked out the door, Lauren told Melody that she should’ve used her pass to replace Deidra, though Melody joked that she wasn’t sure if the blue team could handle that level of sass. Meanwhile, the red team’s spirits were as high as they had been in some time, with Michael saying he felt good, and looked good, while Ramona admitted she was nervous to go horseback riding for the first time, but Everett tried to reassure her. Soon, they had reached their destination, and, led by a guide, began their scenic trek through the mountains on horseback. The red team were in high spirits as they took in the beauty of nature, with Faye saying in her confessional that the red team really needed this win to give them a confidence boost going into tomorrow night’s service. After some time, the chefs were led to a location with a stunning view of the landscape, where their picnic supplies, and Chef Ramsay, were waiting for them. Ramsay asked them how their ride had been, to which Ramona said she couldn’t decide whether she was thrilled or terrified. The others laughed and everyone joined Ramsay for lunch, as they exchanged small talk and continued to bond as a team.
Back in Hell’s Kitchen, the blue team were trying to come to terms with their defeat in the challenge, as Thomas was still pissed off that they let it slip away, and was also upset with Travis and Carole for what they had said to Ramsay earlier, but Carole said it was true, and it felt like they hardly had a voice at all. Grace became annoyed as well though, and said if anyone was being shut down constantly, it was her. Travis said they were cooking like individuals right now, and that was why he had made his comment earlier. Lauren agreed and said that the blue team had the best chefs, but needed to check their egos at the door and work as a team. Carole was still feeling down and out, and Melody tried to comfort her, as she said she had felt similarly excluded on the red team and knew what she was going through. Travis also came over and said the blue team needed her. Carole said in her confessional that she couldn’t give up on herself now and was determined to make her voice heard. While the blue team tried to sort out their issues, they still had to finish cleaning up the kitchens and dining room, and, as they heard the dreaded sound of the delivery truck pulling in, Lauren said in her confessional that it was just getting worse and worse. The chefs all ran out and began to bring in the grouper, which wore them all out. However, as they finished, Melody noticed that they seemed to be overstocked, and Sous Chef Jon told them to check the invoice, upon which they realized that Grace hadn’t been keeping track of what they were bringing in, despite taking that role for herself. Lauren was pissed off and said in her confessional that Grace had one damn job and fucked it up. Due to her carelessness, the blue team was forced to return several boxes of grouper to the truck.
The red team returned to Hell’s Kitchen later that night, and joined the blue team in the dorms, where they annoyed them by talking about their day out in the mountains, with Grace saying in her confessional that she didn’t really need to hear about how much fun the red team had when she was still trying to get the stench of fish out of her system. Faye, though, said she wished Lauren and Melody could have been with them, and Lauren admitted in her confessional that it was impossible to stay mad at Faye. Michael said it felt great to go on a reward without Shane, and he was looking forward to service tomorrow, which the others on the red team agreed with. The teams returned to their respective sides of the dorms and continued to talk amongst themselves for a while before finally turning in for the night.
Pre-Service
The next day, the chefs were allowed to hang out in the dorms a bit later than usual, but were eventually brought downstairs to begin prepping the kitchens for tonight’s service. In the blue kitchen, Melody tried to lift her teammates’ spirits by saying they had this, and Lauren said in her confessional that it was much-needed encouragement after the debacle of yesterday’s challenge, and she was proud of Melody for stepping up as a leader. Thomas agreed and said that there were no excuses not to win this service going away, while Travis said in his confessional that he was determined to fight through the pain tonight and deliver his best performance yet.
While the blue team were fired up and ready to get back on track, the red team were hoping to build off their win in the latest challenge and notch up another win tonight. Michael said in his confessional that Faye was the only one he could fully trust here, and it would be up to the two of them to lead the red team to the promised land. Meanwhile, Everett was amped up and ready to go, saying he hoped Ramsay would put him on an important station, as he needed to bounce back after a few up and down services. Ramona felt similarly and said in her confessional that any slip ups would cause her team to nominate her, even if it was just to make her lose her immunity.
The teams wrapped up their prep, and Ramsay gathered them one more time to say that he was looking for leaders to start emerging from both teams, and with that, he sent them back to their sections and told Marino to open Hell’s Kitchen.
Service
The doors opened in Hell’s Kitchen once again, and the usual illustrious crowd of Hollywood elites and celebrities soon filled the seats and began to send in their orders.
For the blue team, Grace and Carole were on appetizers, Travis was on fish, Melody was on garnish, and Thomas and Lauren were on meat. Grace got off to a rough start though, as she asked Carole how long she needed for 3 capellini, only to be reminded that there were 2 capellini on the first table, and Ramsay told her to wake up. The two of them did manage to get the first few tables out alongside perfect scallops from Travis with no further incident, but Grace served mushy, overcooked risottos twice, which pissed Ramsay off, as he schooled her for making such a basic mistake at this stage. Carole, meanwhile, got lost on orders, and Grace did little to help by calling out inconsistent times, which caused the entire station to drag, and Carole said in her confessional that Grace needed to stop screwing the station over, while Grace said in her confessional that Carole was lost and doing nothing but making her life more difficult. Eventually, they were finally able to get some food out, with Carole doing her best to support Grace and impressing Ramsay with her leadership. Thanks to Carole and Travis continuing to have a strong night on fish, appetizers finally began to make their way out into the dining room, and eventually, they were ready to get started on entrees.
In the red kitchen, Michael was on appetizers, Deidra was on fish, Everett was on garnish, and the duo of Faye and Ramona were on meat. Michael said in his confessional that it was a big deal to be given the responsibility of running apps alone, and he was determined not to let his team down. For the first table, Michael was able to serve perfect risotto and capellini, but Deidra on fish served up raw scallops twice, and Ramsay schooled her for having a messy station with pans everywhere, asking her if she was cooking for a fast food joint. Deidra then unbelievably served rubbery scallops, and Ramsay said if she sent one more like that, she was gone. Diedra did manage to get it together and make acceptable scallops on her fourth attempt, but food continued to leave the kitchen slowly as she got lost on times and struggled to communicate effectively with Michael. With the station moving sluggishly, Michael became more frustrated, especially as he realized that his risottos were overcooked while waiting for Deidra, and he admitted to Ramsay that he was pissed off, to which Ramsay said that now Michael knew how he felt every night, and told apps and fish to get it together right now. Michael said in his confessional that as pissed as he was, he needed Deidra to work with him, and with his leadership, the red team did manage to wrap up appetizers and move on to entrees, though still behind the blue team.
While the red team tried to keep up, the focus in the blue kitchen now shifted to Thomas and Lauren on meat and Melody on garnish, who were hoping to give Travis more support on fish than he had gotten from apps. Thomas said in his confessional that it was nice to be paired with a competent chef who knew what the hell she was doing, and together, he and Lauren managed to serve up perfect Wellington and chicken for the first table. Meanwhile, Travis was busy dealing with orders for halibut and the grouper special, but he was able to get all of his orders accepted, and with Melody being active and vocal on garnish, the first table of entrees went out smoothly. Lauren had a brief stumble as she served rare Wellingtons instead of mid-rare and dragged on the refire. Thanks to good time management from Melody, though, they were able to get back on track. Travis had some struggles keeping up with the large amount of orders for the special, and served undercooked grouper for a table due to rushing the order, but Ramsay told him to take his time, and Travis said in his confessional that he was afraid of seeming lethargic given his injury, and may have been overcompensating. However, after he calmed down, he was able to bounce back with beautifully cooked grouper. Despite these issues, the blue team pushed through and delivered another strong service, finishing entrees on a high, and Ramsay said it was a job well done as he told them to clear down.
Back in the red kitchen, Faye and Ramona hoped to lead the red team to a strong finish after an uneven start. Faye managed to get her Wellingtons accepted, however, Ramona served raw chicken for the first table, and Deidra only made matters worse by serving raw grouper, which pissed Ramsay off, as he told her it was her own dish, on her supposed strongest station. Deidra said in her confessional that she needed to get her shit together, and quickly. Entrees continued to drag, however, as Everett and Deidra called out contradictory times and confused the entire kitchen. Ramona was able to bounce back with her second attempt at the chicken, however, and with Faye keeping up her solid performance, food did finally start to trickle out into the dining room. Ramsay continued to be frustrated, though, as he schooled Everett for sending up burnt potatoes, telling him there was a difference between roasted and fucking scorched. Faye also sent up overcooked Wellingtons, but was able to quickly bounce back on her next attempt, however the sauce from Everett was cold and bland, and he said in his confessional that he didn’t know what the hell it was about him and the garnish station that always seemed to end badly. Deidra continued to have a rough night despite being on her self-proclaimed strongest station, as she sent up overcooked and undercooked grouper, and got lost on how much salmon was needed for another table. Ramsay had enough and told Michael to get over there and show her how to make a fish, With Michael now helping out on fish, Faye and Ramona managing to get it together on meat, and Everett finally calming down on garnish, the red team managed to complete service several minutes behind the blue team.
Post-Mortem
Ramsay had the teams line up and said that before he went any further, it was clear that the blue team had won service, as he said they looked much more like a team tonight than they had during the challenge. Travis was pumped up to have won, saying in his confessional that the blue team needed this. With that out of the way, Ramsay turned his attention to the red team, saying that he had never seen a team fall so far after the blazing start they had to the season, and he wondered aloud if these chefs had just been hiding behind the chefs he put on the blue team. However, he did have high praise for one individual: Michael, as he had not only run his own station, but also saved the fish station, and that was why he was the Best of the Worst tonight. Ramsay then instructed Michael to think long and hard about the two chefs he thought would improve his team by going home tonight, and with that, he dismissed both teams back to the dorms.
In the dorms, the nervous energy in the red team was palpable, as each of the four remaining chefs knew they had a 50/50 chance of going on the chopping block and potentially going home. Michael said in his confessional that as much of an honor as it was, he hated to be directly responsible for sending anyone home, but knew there were still weak links here who were holding them back. He decided to talk to everyone individually, starting with Faye, as he assured her that she definitely wasn’t going up, and he needed her to help him get this team back to its winning ways. Next, he talked with Ramona, saying he respected her tenacity, but the raw chicken was simply not acceptable at this stage, but she defended herself by saying she had a solid service from that point. Michael told her she couldn’t take anything for granted, and he was worried that the longer she kept the immunity pass, the more it would go to her head. Ramona assured him it wouldn’t, and said in her confessional that she would be pissed to lose her immunity over one mistake in service. Next was Deidra, and Michael told her right away that she was at the top of his list simply for her poor performance on fish, considering it was supposed to be her strength, and her lack of a voice throughout the season. Deidra tried to defend herself by saying she had a lot more to offer the team than the other three. Finally, he talked with Everett, saying he was a great guy and someone he wanted to join him in the black jacket phase, but his issues on garnish were starting to become a problem, and it seemed like he couldn’t overcome even basic mistakes. Everett admitted he made his mistakes, but said Deidra was definitely the worst tonight, and should be the one going home.
On the blue team’s side of the dorm, Melody and Lauren celebrated their win and spent most of the night talking amongst themselves, which annoyed Grace, as she said in her confessional that it seemed like they were a team of two more than part of the blue team, and she was sure they would team up to vote her out if they had a chance. Carole asked Travis how he was feeling and he said that winning made everything better, though he admitted it still hurt like hell each time he took a step. Thomas said in his confessional that he was happy with the blue team’s performance, but they could always do better, and he went over to join Travis and Carole, sharing a rare smile with them.
Elimination Ceremony
The red team entered the dining room on the back of a fourth straight loss in service, with Ramsay asking what the hell had happened to the team he had seen at the start of the season, because right now, they seemed to be sleepwalking. He called on Michael, asking him for his first nominee and why. Michael announced that he had chosen Deidra, due to inconsistent performances and failing on her strongest station. Ramsay asked for the second nominee and why. Ramona and Everett both squirmed nervously, but finally, Michael announced that he was nominating…
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Everett, because he had a hard time communicating on garnish, and made several basic mistakes in his cooking. Ramsay accepted both nominees and told Deidra and Everett to step forward, first asking Deidra why should stay in Hell’s Kitchen.
deliberation music
Deidra: “I should stay here ‘cause I’ve never given up on anything I’ve done here, chef. I work hard on every station, I give 110% every service.”
Ramsay said that at her rate, she needed to be giving closer to 200%, because what she was giving him now wasn’t close to good enough.
Deidra: “Then I’ll give you that, chef. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
Ramsay said she could start by learning to cook her own dish from the challenge, then moved on to Everett, asking him why he should stay in Hell’s Kitchen after he brought the kitchen to a standstill on garnish.
Everett: “Communication was a challenge tonight, chef, Deidra and I never really got on the same page-”
Ramsay stopped him and said he wasn’t looking for any sugarcoating. He wanted to know, right now, if Everett believed he was a better chef than Deidra, and why.
Everett: “Deidra is a good friend of mine, chef, but yes, I believe I’m stronger than her.”
Deidra was shocked at this, and started to cut in before Ramsay shut her down.
Everett: “I think I have the leadership, I have the cooking skill. Once I calm down and get out of my own head, I can damn sure do this, I know that.”
Ramsay then asked Deidra if she thought she was a stronger chef than Everett, and why.
Deidra: “I know I’m stronger. I have more experience, I know how to run a kitchen, and basically chef, I think Everett’s communication caused our problems tonight.”
Ramsay sighed, saying he faced a tough choice now, but there was one chef he felt could not get any more chances.
Ramsay: “The person leaving Hell’s Kitchen is…”
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Ramsay: “Deidra. Your time here, unfortunately, is over. Please, take off your jacket, and leave Hell’s Kitchen.”
Elimination music
Ramsay: “I love the dedication and the work ethic, but if you can’t run one station, and your preferred station at that, I just can’t see you running a brigade. Thank you for trying out.”
Deidra thanled Ramsay and they shook hands as Deidra walked out the door.
Deidra’s comment
“It’s a bitter pill to swallow, leavin’ Hell’s Kitchen when I know I had so much more to show of myself as a leader. I know I can cook a damn fish, but tonight, for whatever reason, I just fucked it up. I’m gonna bounce back from this, it’s not gonna keep me down. So Chef Ramsay, thanks for the opportunity, but I hope that one day, I can prove you wrong.”
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After Deidra’s elimination, Ramsay said that given what he had witnessed tonight, and over the past several nights…
Ramsay: “I am not done.”
Dramatic music
Ramsay: “Thomas, Lauren, Melody…ever since I sent you three to the blue team, they’ve gone up, and the red team has nosedived. I want you three to talk amongst yourselves, and decide by tomorrow morning which one of you is going back to the red team.”
With his latest curveball still ringing in the air, Ramsay told the teams to go back to the dorms, as they had a lot of things to discuss. As they exited the dining room, several chefs had confessionals. Lauren said that just as the blue team seemed to have figured it out, Ramsay had thrown a wrench in the system again, and the question was, would she choose her friendship with Melody, or a chance to stand out as a leader on the red team? Thomas said that this was the opportunity he’d been waiting for, and while he had to share leadership with Lauren on the blue team, he knew this could be his chance to show Ramsay that he was the most qualified chef here to run Gordon Ramsay Steak. Melody said she didn’t want to be separated from Lauren again, but had to admit that it might be a chance to redeem herself after the way she left the red team. Michael said that this was great news, as he felt like he and Faye were doing all the heavy lifting around here, and they desperately needed one of their old teammates to help them regain their edge and start winning some damn services. Ramona said that she hoped Melody would come back, as they really needed some cheering up right now. Finally, Everett said he dodged a huge bullet just now, and it was time to unleash the beast, as there was nowhere to hide in the final 10.
Placement
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