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How To Make Money Fast Ideas
2016.12.22 23:47 jessestone09 How To Make Money Fast Ideas
How to make money fast ideas that you can use starting today! Need to make quick cash? Need a work from home business idea? Than this subreddit is the place to find them all! Just remember there is no such thing as free money, and beware those that tell you otherwise.
2013.08.30 19:01 CJK_ExStream How to make items for your backyard, office, room, entertainment, etc.
A place to share how to make items. Ask how to make something or help others by answering their questions. Show everyone your way to make a pencil holder. Show everyone your way to make a chair. Show everyone how to make a boat even! Show us how to make a good impressions on a job interview. All on /HowToMake
2021.10.15 08:33 electro127multi how_to_make
we show here how to make free energy generator dc motor convert motor ac to dc dc to brushless motor and electrical and technical things
2024.05.18 23:38 tumblesmagoo sappy post about loving my husband
I really don't know how I got so lucky! I found my perfect person early on and have been so fortunate to share over half my life with a man who continue to make my heart sing! He's so respectful and even as my skin starts to sag he makes me feel like a princess! He's funny too- omg how he's funny! Even on the hardest days he knows how to make me crack a smile. For the last 10 years we've been like the sun and the moon due to different work shifts (he's 3rd shift) but those moments we have together keep me motivated for the rest of the week. I am a morning person now because he comes home when I wake up and it's s better way to start the day than the finest coffee in the world. I am so proud of him and feel so lucky. I can't wait until we share the same schedule again because I love falling asleep in his arms. No one ever knows what tomorrow brings, but in this moment I'm si grateful for the life we built.
submitted by tumblesmagoo to TrueOffMyChest [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 23:14 ToTheMax47 Season 1 Is A Must Watch: 4 Episodes In, 3.5 Years Late
Hello everyone at BridgertonNetflix,
I'm currently paused on S1E4 (specifically: Right after Simon and Daphne get caught in the maze by Anthony) and I just needed someone to spew my absolute LOVE for this show.
Do I know why it took me 3 years, 5 months, and 28 days to finally watch an episode of this show? Nope.
But I do know Season 1 is getting finished by the end of the day.
Unfortunately for me - and the driving factor of this post - I have nobody around to discuss what I've absolutely just dived into for the first time over the past 3 hours or so. I have some CRACKED theories on who Lady Whistledown is I was RIGHT there with Eloise when she was checking up on the servant's room, but what a terrible way to go about it. What a funny scene with her laughing and then kicking Eloise out right after though. I was originally thinking that Eloise was her, but that was quickly dispelled once the search actually started - my frontrunning lead right now is that it, unless the scene where gossip on that one weasel looking dude trying to blackmail his way with Daphne was meant to explain how Whistledown got ALL her info, is that it's LADY BRIDGERTON!!!! The cunning, smarts, and overall knowledge of happenings in the ton makes her a likely candidate. Cunning enough to drop relatively distasteful info on her own family to quench any ideas of it being her household, smarts to plan it all, and knowledge, along with tact, to print things like the 'illness' regarding Marina.
That paragraph was incredibly long, so I'll save everyone from any more. But I'd love it if you all could drop some of your Season 1 theories, matchups, or even tips for watching and/or understanding more of the world of Bridgerton (like how much of it is grounded in it's historical London setting?), as a favor to another Bridgerton fan who is catching up to the ton a couple of years late.
This show is ridiculously gripping and I would never have thought I could be so enthralled by a show around romance and drama (I usually go for comedy, which Bridgerton also deliver in high quality). Can't wait to get to Season 3 so I can actually read all of these other posts!
Thank you!!!
submitted by ToTheMax47 to BridgertonNetflix [link] [comments]
I'm currently paused on S1E4 (specifically: Right after Simon and Daphne get caught in the maze by Anthony) and I just needed someone to spew my absolute LOVE for this show.
Do I know why it took me 3 years, 5 months, and 28 days to finally watch an episode of this show? Nope.
But I do know Season 1 is getting finished by the end of the day.
Unfortunately for me - and the driving factor of this post - I have nobody around to discuss what I've absolutely just dived into for the first time over the past 3 hours or so. I have some CRACKED theories on who Lady Whistledown is I was RIGHT there with Eloise when she was checking up on the servant's room, but what a terrible way to go about it. What a funny scene with her laughing and then kicking Eloise out right after though. I was originally thinking that Eloise was her, but that was quickly dispelled once the search actually started - my frontrunning lead right now is that it, unless the scene where gossip on that one weasel looking dude trying to blackmail his way with Daphne was meant to explain how Whistledown got ALL her info, is that it's LADY BRIDGERTON!!!! The cunning, smarts, and overall knowledge of happenings in the ton makes her a likely candidate. Cunning enough to drop relatively distasteful info on her own family to quench any ideas of it being her household, smarts to plan it all, and knowledge, along with tact, to print things like the 'illness' regarding Marina.
That paragraph was incredibly long, so I'll save everyone from any more. But I'd love it if you all could drop some of your Season 1 theories, matchups, or even tips for watching and/or understanding more of the world of Bridgerton (like how much of it is grounded in it's historical London setting?), as a favor to another Bridgerton fan who is catching up to the ton a couple of years late.
This show is ridiculously gripping and I would never have thought I could be so enthralled by a show around romance and drama (I usually go for comedy, which Bridgerton also deliver in high quality). Can't wait to get to Season 3 so I can actually read all of these other posts!
Thank you!!!
2024.05.18 22:57 Hunnyandmilk I wrapped my body with duct tape every day in middle school
I remember when I was a little girl I would look in the mirror and just be so disappointed, in my mind, I was ugly, stupid, and poor, and it broke me completely. I would get bullied heavily in elementary school not only because I was poor but because I was chubby, while I ate lunch kids would stand by my desk and make pig sounds at me, oinking and calling me butterball. They told me I had meth head teeth. The only thing I liked about myself was my freckles but that brief feeling of liking myself soon disappeared when one boy told me it looked like I had shit splattered on my face.
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
submitted by Hunnyandmilk to confessions [link] [comments]
I was eleven when I began to diet, whiten my teeth, and wear makeup. My teeth naturally straightened out on their own and I shed the weight with the help of heavy restriction, not without developing an obsession over how I looked. When I was twelve, boys began to notice me, I broke my nose and in doing so had to get it straightened out so I could breathe properly, no longer did I have my father's Roman nose which I so despised. I wanted desperately to be like the girls who ignored me and to be liked by the boys who bullied me for a little baby fat.
Because of this obsession, I didn't believe people when they told me I was pretty. Compliments always felt ingenuine and I naturally assumed boys were asking me out as a joke so I turned every single one down out of fear of humiliation. Deep inside me something seethed, I wasn't satisfied with the weight I had lost and begged and cried until my mom shared her Ozempic with me. I was thirteen.
Still, I could describe in detail the way I picked apart every flaw, the way I had autopsies on past conversations, searching for a new insecurity. One day I went into my dad's toolbox and stole his roll of duck tape and wrapped it around my waist. I was amazed by how beautiful I looked, my waist was the smallest of all the girls at my school and this felt like a victory. I tailored my favourite sundress on my mom's sewing machine to fit my brand-new waist and wore it to the first day back from summer break.
Everyone turned their heads to look at me, I thought that only happened in the movies until I strolled into English class with a waist the size of a tangerine. I shoved lies through my teeth about a gym and diet plan I had done over the summer to make myself look so small, my friends listened with eager ears and wide eyes trained on my midriff. The attention was more addictive than any substance I've put into my body. My friend had told me how the boys were talking about me and how they planned to ask me out, that's when I made up my mind.
It felt like a poison I happily drank, knowing all of the risks. Every Sunday after church I walked to the Dollar General by my house and bought five rolls of duct tape, two dollars each for one week of classes, ten dollars in total. The same woman was always there and she always smiled at me, asking what I did with all of the tape, my face would split into a sickly sweet smile as I told her a new falsehood every time.
My mother would comment on how she didn't want me to go anywhere by myself because I was too pretty to do so, this was like pouring gasoline onto my forest fire. In the morning when everyone was sleeping, I wrapped one roll of duct tape around my waist so no one could hear the sound; I took it off before my showers at night, water running as pain pushed tears from my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek until I could taste iron flood my gums. I was left with cuts and tears in my skin, flesh tender with torture, still, I mummified my body every morning with duct tape. Sometimes I would do my thighs if I wore leggings or skinny jeans so people would comment on my impressive thigh gap.
After a year of doing this, my midriff looked like a piece of raw steak beaten with a meat tenderizer until it was almost torn apart entirely. I wouldn't even let people touch me in fear that they could feel through my attempt at perfection. I started skipping church. Every weekend I shut myself inside so I could breathe at full capacity while I shut my blinds and stared at my ceiling, my mind went numb with the impending doom that I would suffocate myself with that dreadful silver tape when the bell rang. My whole life I had heard that beauty is pain and that's all I thought this was, I thought that models did similar things and it was just something I had to accept to be beautiful.
Essentially, I had turned into a zombie; my breathing was shallow, and I became pale, clammy, shaking, and nauseous. I couldn't stomach meals. Every night I would wake up around midnight and cough up my guts but I hadn't eaten any food so there was nothing left in me to vomit but bile and eventually blood. I stopped talking to people, I thought it better for them just to look at my pretty long lashes and my tiny little waist than to listen to me tell them I was fine through shaky breaths. My dad was so scared for me, he kept bringing food into my bedroom and would come to collect the uneaten dish when he dropped off the next. He couldn't look at me without crying. It was just his drowsy gaze piercing into my vacant skull while we both swallowed back what we wanted to say, the words dying in our throats, never to be heard.
Everything hurt all of the time, it didn't matter anymore whether I had the duct tape on or not. I almost preferred the feeling of it on so the stinging of the cuts and the soreness of my ribs was shielded by something. One day in PE the teacher asked me to sit out so I did. I tried my best to keep my vision straight and my head up while I watched the other kids play California kickball. It was okay until there was a suffocating feeling, like something was consuming everything in my body like tiny creatures with razor-sharp teeth were cutting their way up my organs. My body began to convulse as I coughed until I fell to my hands and knees, coughing up this invisible force in my throat. The game stopped abruptly and every pair of beady eyes turned to watch me writhe in pain on the dusty gym floor while I clawed at my chest and throat, eager to tear the skin off completely.
Mr. Duke jogged over to me, crouching down to my level and putting a hand on my back. With furrowed eyebrows, he asked what was happening and with nothing more than Ozempic running through my system, I screamed at him to get away from me. That final wave came like a million little hands of wind pushing at the back of my throat until I heaved up the very last of what was left in me. Hands flew over mouths while some gagged at the sickness once inside of me. On that floor was a pile of what looked to be red coffee grounds in a little puddle of cherry wine. I was as terrified as anyone else in the gym, I screamed between heavy sobs while scuttling away from the mess I had made.
I knew that this was the end of me, that I would be taken to a hospital and everyone would know what I had done. I didn't even need to go to the hospital for everyone to know what I had done. Once I had collected myself and began talking frantically in a hushed circle of my friends while we waited for the ambulance, one boy on the hockey team caught a glimpse of shimmering silver beneath my gym strip and snuck up behind me, pulling my shirt up and revealing the secret I carried like a cross I had to bear.
My back laden with strips of duct tape like it was armour was on display to my entire class, my shame shown to what I had perceived to be the entire world. The girls didn't find this so funny but the boys came up with the name of Tape-Face. I remember rushing to the locker room with my friends following close behind, I grabbed scissors from my pencil case and began to cut it off myself, ripping it away madly along with little segments of flesh. My friends watched in horror, they just stood like it was a game of wax museum and I was the security guard there to punish whichever moved first.
In the hospital, I couldn't face my parents, not even the doctor, I kept my eyes locked on my lap. I couldn't see their stares but I could certainly feel them digging into me like a frog on a dissection table. My mom was utterly speechless and my dad spoke only through voice cracks and subtle sobs while he brought me soggy sandwiches from the cafe on the first floor.
I took another week off school because I could predict the painfully true rumours and when I finally set foot back into the school, it was worse than I anticipated. I felt hideous, like a pig that had been chugging back lard in my t-shirt, sweatpants, and perfectly average body. My friends were hesitant to eat around me and tiptoed around the incident like it had never happened which almost felt worse than bringing it up. Others were not so kind. A group of kids, guys and girls all mixed together, the kind that stole cigarettes from their parents had waited until I came back to sneak away from class and cover my locker in duct tape. Over top of the tape they scribbled on a dictionary of names they would call me in the hallway "Tape-Face" "Fraud" "Botched" "Duct tape Barbie". One of the girls sat behind me in math and had cut little squares of duct tape to stick them into my hair, I called my mom in the principal's office and cried while the secretary had to cut it out of my hair.
My dad made the decision to pull me out of school, so I started homeschooling but that didn't stop the harassment. We lived close to the school and during lunch and after school kids would throw duct tape wallets and wads of tape onto the porch. My dad's final straw was when someone dropped off a Barbie whose waist and thighs had been wrapped in duct tape in our mailbox. He had contacted not only the school but the parents of the kids several times with no avail to the torment ending anytime soon. He moved us to a new town where I could go to class without anyone knowing the pain I subjected myself to for two years.
I'm in college now and I've never told anyone this. I've cut contact with everyone from that school. One of the bullies tried to reach out and apologize, blaming her behaviour on mental illness but that felt like she had shattered a plate and said sorry, thinking that it would put the plate back together. I told her I didn't forgive her and blocked her. A boy from the hockey team also messaged me, the one who flipped my shirt up. He said he just had a daughter he couldn't imagine her going through what I went through and that he's sorry for what he did. All I had to say was that I hope she doesn't have to go through what he put me through either.
2024.05.18 22:57 Glittering_Berry5065 This is my heart warming novella of how Geroge cooper sr comes back from the dead
The sleepy town of Medford, Texas, had seen its share of strange events, but none as extraordinary as the one that occurred one quiet spring morning. It had been nearly three decades since the untimely death of George Cooper Sr., the beloved high school football coach and father of Sheldon Cooper, the boy genius. His passing had left a void in the lives of his family and the entire community. In the years since George’s death, his family had moved on in their own ways. Mary, his wife, had continued to be the steadfast matriarch, raising their children with a firm but loving hand. Sheldon, with his towering intellect, had moved to Pasadena and achieved great things in the world of theoretical physics. Missy, his twin sister, had carved out her own path, becoming a strong and independent woman. Georgie Jr., the eldest, had taken over the family’s business and become a pillar of the community .On this particular morning, a strange energy seemed to fill the air. It started as a gentle hum, almost imperceptible, but gradually grew louder, vibrating through the ground and shaking the leaves on the trees. In the cemetery where George Cooper Sr. was buried, the ground above his grave began to shift and crack. A hand, strong and calloused, broke through the soil, followed by another. Slowly, George Cooper Sr. pulled himself up from the earth, bewildered and disoriented. Covered in dirt and wearing the remnants of his burial suit, George staggered to his feet, his mind a swirl of confusion and fragments of memories. He remembered collapsing at the kitchen table, the pain in his chest, and then... nothing. How was he here? Why was he here?
Driven by an inexplicable force, George began walking towards his old home. Medford had changed in some ways but remained comfortingly familiar in others. As he walked, people stopped and stared, their eyes wide with disbelief and shock. Whispers and gasps followed him, but George was focused on one thing: reuniting with his family. When he reached the house, his heart pounded with a mix of fear and anticipation. He knocked on the door, and after a few tense moments, it opened to reveal Mary. Her eyes widened, and she clutched her chest, struggling to find words.
“George?” Mary’s voice trembled.
“It’s me, Mary,” George said, his own voice thick with emotion.
“I don’t know how, but I’m back.” Mary’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out to touch his face, her fingers trembling. The next moments were a blur as she pulled him inside, calling for their children. Missy, now a grown woman, and Georgie Jr. appeared, their faces mirrors of shock and disbelief.
“Dad?” Missy whispered, her eyes wide.
“It’s me, sweetheart,” George said, smiling through his own tears. Soon, news of George’s miraculous return reached Sheldon in Pasadena. The genius, usually so composed and logical, was left speechless. He immediately booked a flight back to Texas, desperate to see the father he had lost so many years ago.When Sheldon arrived, the reunion was both heart warming and awkward. George marvelled at how much his children had grown and changed, while Sheldon struggled to reconcile the man before him with the memories he had clung to for so long .As the days passed, George underwent medical examinations, and though he was weak from his time in the grave, he was remarkably healthy. Scientists and researchers flocked to Medford, eager to understand the phenomenon, but no definitive answers emerged. George's return remained a mystery, one that defied all logic and reason. In time, the Cooper family adjusted to their new reality. George relished the chance to make up for lost time, attending Georgie Jr.’s business milestones, celebrating Missy’s achievements, and engaging in deep, meaningful conversations with Sheldon. The family, once fractured by tragedy, found healing in their reunion. Medford, too, was changed by George’s return. The town, already close-knit, became even more connected, bound together by the shared experience of witnessing a true miracle. George Cooper Sr. had come back to life, and with him, he brought hope, love, and the reminder that sometimes, the impossible can become possible. In the end, it wasn’t the how or why of his return that mattered most, but the precious moments he shared with his family, moments they had all thought were lost forever.
submitted by Glittering_Berry5065 to YoungSheldon [link] [comments]
Driven by an inexplicable force, George began walking towards his old home. Medford had changed in some ways but remained comfortingly familiar in others. As he walked, people stopped and stared, their eyes wide with disbelief and shock. Whispers and gasps followed him, but George was focused on one thing: reuniting with his family. When he reached the house, his heart pounded with a mix of fear and anticipation. He knocked on the door, and after a few tense moments, it opened to reveal Mary. Her eyes widened, and she clutched her chest, struggling to find words.
“George?” Mary’s voice trembled.
“It’s me, Mary,” George said, his own voice thick with emotion.
“I don’t know how, but I’m back.” Mary’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out to touch his face, her fingers trembling. The next moments were a blur as she pulled him inside, calling for their children. Missy, now a grown woman, and Georgie Jr. appeared, their faces mirrors of shock and disbelief.
“Dad?” Missy whispered, her eyes wide.
“It’s me, sweetheart,” George said, smiling through his own tears. Soon, news of George’s miraculous return reached Sheldon in Pasadena. The genius, usually so composed and logical, was left speechless. He immediately booked a flight back to Texas, desperate to see the father he had lost so many years ago.When Sheldon arrived, the reunion was both heart warming and awkward. George marvelled at how much his children had grown and changed, while Sheldon struggled to reconcile the man before him with the memories he had clung to for so long .As the days passed, George underwent medical examinations, and though he was weak from his time in the grave, he was remarkably healthy. Scientists and researchers flocked to Medford, eager to understand the phenomenon, but no definitive answers emerged. George's return remained a mystery, one that defied all logic and reason. In time, the Cooper family adjusted to their new reality. George relished the chance to make up for lost time, attending Georgie Jr.’s business milestones, celebrating Missy’s achievements, and engaging in deep, meaningful conversations with Sheldon. The family, once fractured by tragedy, found healing in their reunion. Medford, too, was changed by George’s return. The town, already close-knit, became even more connected, bound together by the shared experience of witnessing a true miracle. George Cooper Sr. had come back to life, and with him, he brought hope, love, and the reminder that sometimes, the impossible can become possible. In the end, it wasn’t the how or why of his return that mattered most, but the precious moments he shared with his family, moments they had all thought were lost forever.
2024.05.18 22:56 SeattleSlew7 The Biggest Phil Hellmuth BLOW-UP Compilation!
 | Poker Ambassador or poker asshole to the extreme? I forgot just how bad he was until I watched this. To demand silence from a table of WC players that can’t help but mock you and your oversized ego. I would have folded immediately. The chances that she has A2-A9 or 22-99 is remote at best. If penalties were to be handed out…90% would go to him! Does he not watch the videos of himself to see how ridiculous he acts? I’ve played as long as he has, obviously not at the same levels, I’ve never seen a WC player act like this consistently. Sure I’ve seen someone drink too much and have a bad night. He does it in every tournament and high stakes cash game. The amateurs in the WSOP are what make for the prize pools and dead money. He keeps trying to run over players that aren’t folding. Then calls them idiots after playing like a teenager at his first real game. Why aren’t you folding? Don’t you know who I am? Not 3 betting AA is the best way I know to get them cracked. Idiot indeed! submitted by SeattleSlew7 to poker [link] [comments] |
2024.05.18 22:55 Majestic-Shop5182 Top 50 Questions Answered: PVC Fencing Explained by Value Fencing
 | Top 50 Questions Answered: PVC Fencing Explained by Value Fencing submitted by Majestic-Shop5182 to pvcfencing [link] [comments] Author: Willie Labuschagne - Value Fencing Date: 2023-05-20 PVC fencing has gained immense popularity in South Africa due to its durability, low maintenance, and aesthetic appeal. Whether you're considering PVC fencing for your residential or commercial property, it's essential to have all your questions answered. In this comprehensive guide, Value Fencing provides answers to the top 50 questions about PVC fencing, ensuring you have all the information you need to make an informed decision.
PVCFencing #HomeImprovement #OutdoorLiving #ValueFencing #SustainableSolutions #EcoFriendlyDesign #ResidentialFencing #CommercialFencing |
2024.05.18 22:46 Majestic-Shop5182 What are the Top 10 FAQs About Value Fencing's PVC Fencing, Gates, Pergolas, Balustrades, and Privacy Screening
 | Top 10 FAQs About Value Fencing's PVC Fencing, Gates, Pergolas, Balustrades, and Privacy Screening: submitted by Majestic-Shop5182 to pvcfencing [link] [comments] Author: Willie Labuschagne - MD, Value Fencing PVC Franchise Group Date: 2024-03-02 Want to know the top 10 most frequently asked questions and informative answers regarding PVC fencing, gates, pergolas, balustrades, and privacy screening? Your ultimate guide to outdoor solutions is here!
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2024.05.18 22:42 BriefWinner11 Reviewing "NAEQUALITYY"s Telegram Group "SnapHacksPC" - Scamming Ass Tricks Or Actually Serving People? See The Review For Answers!
I think naequalityy's group was a bit sketchy, couldn't really get a lot of proof that satisfied me - so i decided to order myself. Here's what I got.
A lot of scams start off as "pay upfront & shut the fuck up" without providing any security, naequalityy wasn't the same how-ever. Lets get into it starting with looks-
Communication - I was speaking to admins, staff , & members and i'd like to say its not what i expected. I assumed it was some bloke running a cracked software & that was about it but its actually pretty well structured which made it more appealing then other "hackers" who don't seem to actually do anything. I was even able to see start - to finish & updated along the way for my order which i thought was pretty neat.
NOW! I wont sit here and just glaze / dick ride like some jockey - there was a "ugly" side of things im going to cover today as well.
Starting with - TIMES!
So seeing the amount of traffic that takes place, I expected to be waiting maybe a cool 15-20 minutes but upon placing my order we ended up having to wait a full HOUR for results. I mean in the end we walked out with about 200+ pics / videos put we expected to be waiting no-more then 30 minutes. When you're ready to see some shit it tends to take the edge / excitement off. If you have the time then hey- knock yourself out
Another thing we were a bit iffy about were PRICES, for the average joe i'd say if they weren't having sales for members it was pretty steep > so going into it id be very aware of this point. On a side note it DOES come with a lot of content , as well as it working indefinitely not just a one time thing.
How non - snaphacks+ members are treated, well you aren't exactly treated bad but it's usually primarily only service their own! They had a slot open so we got ours on a technicality but remember that if you try getting something beforehand. Its still a good service though!
So in - conclusion , i can vouch & say if you just do some research , talk to a few folks there & see everything they have to offer they "scam" accusations seem to dwindle away. I've not seen any actual screenshots of victims from scams , we ACTUALLY got work done & plenty other have. so a 8.1 / 10 from us! I'll link their Group on our Profile Link
submitted by BriefWinner11 to influencerky_cze_sk [link] [comments]
A lot of scams start off as "pay upfront & shut the fuck up" without providing any security, naequalityy wasn't the same how-ever. Lets get into it starting with looks-
- They have a pretty nice set-up, its not very cluttered & a variety of content posted which drew my attention when i first joined the group. Presentation is key & they seemed to capture this point VERY well - so i can give a point to that.
Communication - I was speaking to admins, staff , & members and i'd like to say its not what i expected. I assumed it was some bloke running a cracked software & that was about it but its actually pretty well structured which made it more appealing then other "hackers" who don't seem to actually do anything. I was even able to see start - to finish & updated along the way for my order which i thought was pretty neat.
NOW! I wont sit here and just glaze / dick ride like some jockey - there was a "ugly" side of things im going to cover today as well.
Starting with - TIMES!
So seeing the amount of traffic that takes place, I expected to be waiting maybe a cool 15-20 minutes but upon placing my order we ended up having to wait a full HOUR for results. I mean in the end we walked out with about 200+ pics / videos put we expected to be waiting no-more then 30 minutes. When you're ready to see some shit it tends to take the edge / excitement off. If you have the time then hey- knock yourself out
Another thing we were a bit iffy about were PRICES, for the average joe i'd say if they weren't having sales for members it was pretty steep > so going into it id be very aware of this point. On a side note it DOES come with a lot of content , as well as it working indefinitely not just a one time thing.
How non - snaphacks+ members are treated, well you aren't exactly treated bad but it's usually primarily only service their own! They had a slot open so we got ours on a technicality but remember that if you try getting something beforehand. Its still a good service though!
So in - conclusion , i can vouch & say if you just do some research , talk to a few folks there & see everything they have to offer they "scam" accusations seem to dwindle away. I've not seen any actual screenshots of victims from scams , we ACTUALLY got work done & plenty other have. so a 8.1 / 10 from us! I'll link their Group on our Profile Link
2024.05.18 22:36 TipTechnicali How SightAI is Revolutionizing AI with Privacy-Preserving Tech!
I recently came across a super cool project called SightAI that's doing some amazing stuff with AI and data privacy. If you're into tech or just curious about how your data stays private, you'll love this.
So, you know how AI can do all these awesome things like predicting stuff, analyzing data, and more? But there's always that nagging concern about data privacy, right? Like, what if your sensitive info gets leaked or misused? That’s where SightAI comes in.
2. Why This Matters: Think about banks wanting to analyze transaction data without risking exposure. With SightAI, they can encrypt the data, send it for analysis, and only the bank can see the results. Your data stays private and secure.
3. The Competitive Edge: Not all AI projects use FHE because it’s complex and requires serious expertise. But SightAI has cracked the code, making it easier and more efficient. This gives them a huge edge over others.
4. A Collaborative Future: They’re building a decentralized network where different nodes (computers) work together to process AI tasks quickly. This collaborative approach not only speeds things up but also opens up new possibilities for AI applications.
In short, SightAI is set to make a big impact by ensuring AI can be powerful and private at the same time. It’s definitely a project to keep an eye on!
Feel free to ask if you have any questions or want to know more. Let’s discuss it!
submitted by TipTechnicali to AltcoinTrader [link] [comments]
So, you know how AI can do all these awesome things like predicting stuff, analyzing data, and more? But there's always that nagging concern about data privacy, right? Like, what if your sensitive info gets leaked or misused? That’s where SightAI comes in.
Here’s the lowdown:
1. Blockchain + AI + Privacy = Win! SightAI combines blockchain tech with AI and something called Fully Homomorphic Encryption (FHE). It's a mouthful, but it basically means they can perform computations on encrypted data without ever seeing the actual data. Imagine a locked box with your documents inside. They can read and process everything inside without opening the box. Cool, right?2. Why This Matters: Think about banks wanting to analyze transaction data without risking exposure. With SightAI, they can encrypt the data, send it for analysis, and only the bank can see the results. Your data stays private and secure.
3. The Competitive Edge: Not all AI projects use FHE because it’s complex and requires serious expertise. But SightAI has cracked the code, making it easier and more efficient. This gives them a huge edge over others.
4. A Collaborative Future: They’re building a decentralized network where different nodes (computers) work together to process AI tasks quickly. This collaborative approach not only speeds things up but also opens up new possibilities for AI applications.
Why You Should Care:
Privacy is a big deal. With data being the new gold, keeping it safe is crucial. SightAI is not just protecting data; it’s also making advanced AI tech accessible to everyone, driving innovation and collaboration.In short, SightAI is set to make a big impact by ensuring AI can be powerful and private at the same time. It’s definitely a project to keep an eye on!
Feel free to ask if you have any questions or want to know more. Let’s discuss it!
2024.05.18 22:33 JulianSkies Blackriver Cases - Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?
submitted by JulianSkies to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”
He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?
2024.05.18 22:27 ProfessionalMean9020 Assaulted by hindsight…
I open my front door to strangers and my anxiety breaks me into a cracked smile and then seeps out like smoke to set the mood for us. I have nobody in person to operate my humor with or to ask to ask me questions. “Ask me where im from”. Friends are for play so that when we encounter strangers we’re prepared to make a friend. We all need positive feedback or else we get assaulted by hindsight and enshame ourselves at home.
And that just happened to me. My landlord introduces me to the plumber who’s also from Cuba, but I can barely speak English much less Spanish now from the lack of banter I get on my day to day. So instead of friendly, strangers become averse to this “infection”. And immediately after I close the door I edit the whole interaction and just want to throw the world into a blender.
A huge point for having a friend is the practice you get with failing together and laughing about it. Playing a situation over and over again in different ways and worlds. I think it’s called miraculous. You’re both looking for diamonds together. It’s not idealistic. You don’t enter hoping to meet a diamond. You shape one together. All people these days are rough diamonds. That’s how the best friendships and marriages work.
Anyways. I’m just hurt and I’m fucked about all these fortune-tellers expecting to get the best in one careless snap. I have to find a job soon bc my luck is running out but I feel sick bc all the motivation I get comes from others. My seratonin and oxytocin containers have been heaving for over eight years.
I’ve had partners my whole life and one day a decade ago I decided to be alone. Because one thing I had never experienced was loneliness. And I knew that if I could be alone with myself and not feel lonely but thrive, that it would be one of my greatest accomplishments. But how crazy is it that in eight years I haven’t achieved that. Maybe I’m at 50% achieving it bc I did the semantic work of finding myself over the years and now it’s about the pragmatic work of being one with the shape, but I don’t want to do it alone. I know what it’s like to have a friend, and it’s the best. We had our own language and our own schemes. And maybe I won’t be doing it alone once I take the first step in the morning. And once I get some place great I hope to take care of all my lonely and suffering people that have the compassion to see the pain in others.
I give up writing this anymore. I’m too sad and tired to vent. My cortex is frustrated and exhausted by this pain. I can’t even reread to edit this.
submitted by ProfessionalMean9020 to lonely [link] [comments]
And that just happened to me. My landlord introduces me to the plumber who’s also from Cuba, but I can barely speak English much less Spanish now from the lack of banter I get on my day to day. So instead of friendly, strangers become averse to this “infection”. And immediately after I close the door I edit the whole interaction and just want to throw the world into a blender.
A huge point for having a friend is the practice you get with failing together and laughing about it. Playing a situation over and over again in different ways and worlds. I think it’s called miraculous. You’re both looking for diamonds together. It’s not idealistic. You don’t enter hoping to meet a diamond. You shape one together. All people these days are rough diamonds. That’s how the best friendships and marriages work.
Anyways. I’m just hurt and I’m fucked about all these fortune-tellers expecting to get the best in one careless snap. I have to find a job soon bc my luck is running out but I feel sick bc all the motivation I get comes from others. My seratonin and oxytocin containers have been heaving for over eight years.
I’ve had partners my whole life and one day a decade ago I decided to be alone. Because one thing I had never experienced was loneliness. And I knew that if I could be alone with myself and not feel lonely but thrive, that it would be one of my greatest accomplishments. But how crazy is it that in eight years I haven’t achieved that. Maybe I’m at 50% achieving it bc I did the semantic work of finding myself over the years and now it’s about the pragmatic work of being one with the shape, but I don’t want to do it alone. I know what it’s like to have a friend, and it’s the best. We had our own language and our own schemes. And maybe I won’t be doing it alone once I take the first step in the morning. And once I get some place great I hope to take care of all my lonely and suffering people that have the compassion to see the pain in others.
I give up writing this anymore. I’m too sad and tired to vent. My cortex is frustrated and exhausted by this pain. I can’t even reread to edit this.
2024.05.18 22:05 CHADI_2 Friends, don't be scared of the dark cave (and the ancient laboratory for that matter)
I've gone, in the span of 2-3 days from barely exploring the west side of the mines, to pretty much guaranteeing an additional 2-3 extra max heath increases, (on top of the mountain one) an insane amount of money and flasks of some powerful magical liquids every run, all the while taking minimal to no damage. Sorry for the long post, but I think I cracked the early game of Noita, and absolutely want to share my new way of playing the game with my fellow gamers
It all starts with the beginning of the run, I won't discuss all the ways of getting up to the mountain altar, as FuryForged had done a excellent video on the subject, but I expect you to have a tablet by the time you get to the dark cave, as well as the additional +25 hp if you really want to get as much value as you need early. Once you're there, you'll have to drain the cave. This is mostly done by breaking a specificly weak part of the cave, which will neatly drain all the water to the portal "bowl", "recipient" ldk what to call it, there are explosive boxes everywhere to use,and not to mention the many bomb wands you'll most likely find on your way there. Once you're done, just check your wiki to know which dark cave layout you got, as you'll have to navigte it in the dark. This is the scary part for most people, but you can actually very easily identify your layout by feeling it out with your character, and a lil bit of deduction. You get better at it the more you do it, and you'll learn to do so surprisingly quickly. If you do a minimum of like 10 runs while doing this, you'll be able to learn most of the features of the cave, and become a true dark cave master, I promise. You've now identified your dark cave layout, great! Now time to grab your second +25 hp. I don't ever recommend getting the full heal except if you're REALLY beat up, as you'll be gettting more max hp soon. Once you're in the other side you have 2 things to do 1. grab some magical liquids which are eveywhere, I mostly recommend teleportatium as the ability to go from level to level for basically free opens up the game greatly, and offers you many options which is always appreciated. You'll also want to get some unstable poly to steal the pit orb, the fact that it turns you into a guaranteed hiisi makes getting that orb pretty straight forward. I won't get into how to steal the orb with polymorphine, as it's pretty well documented and this post is getting long. 2. k i l l. this is the second reason I made this post. If you have a tablet, then you shoudn't ever be scared of the enemies in the ancient laboratory, as I said earlier the more you do something, the better get at it, I have learned how to deal with the enemies there, if you know how to use tablets offensively then you'll have to trust me, they are absolute pushovers. You'll be able to get so much gold from them that anything in the first 3 levels will be essentially free And that's it, basically! If you've been gifted with acceleratium, or godlike patience, you can even go for the orb on top of the pyramid. If you did all these things you can grab the full heal, and you'll be sitting at a c o n f o r t a b l e: - 200hp base, more if you find natural hearts - a minimum of 1000 gold, up to 1800 - 2000 if really master the laboratory enemies and don't get too greedy - multiple flasks of incedibly versatile magical liquids, I'm taking teleportatium, potentially ambrosia, berserkium, pheromone, which are pretty common in the lab - and the confidence that with these things, you'll have an incredible run ahead of you, I'm sure of it
Also I'm sorry if this post is bad, I'm not that good at writing these guide things, and I mostly just wanted to express easy the dark cave and and ancient laboratory really are
submitted by CHADI_2 to noita [link] [comments]
It all starts with the beginning of the run, I won't discuss all the ways of getting up to the mountain altar, as FuryForged had done a excellent video on the subject, but I expect you to have a tablet by the time you get to the dark cave, as well as the additional +25 hp if you really want to get as much value as you need early. Once you're there, you'll have to drain the cave. This is mostly done by breaking a specificly weak part of the cave, which will neatly drain all the water to the portal "bowl", "recipient" ldk what to call it, there are explosive boxes everywhere to use,and not to mention the many bomb wands you'll most likely find on your way there. Once you're done, just check your wiki to know which dark cave layout you got, as you'll have to navigte it in the dark. This is the scary part for most people, but you can actually very easily identify your layout by feeling it out with your character, and a lil bit of deduction. You get better at it the more you do it, and you'll learn to do so surprisingly quickly. If you do a minimum of like 10 runs while doing this, you'll be able to learn most of the features of the cave, and become a true dark cave master, I promise. You've now identified your dark cave layout, great! Now time to grab your second +25 hp. I don't ever recommend getting the full heal except if you're REALLY beat up, as you'll be gettting more max hp soon. Once you're in the other side you have 2 things to do 1. grab some magical liquids which are eveywhere, I mostly recommend teleportatium as the ability to go from level to level for basically free opens up the game greatly, and offers you many options which is always appreciated. You'll also want to get some unstable poly to steal the pit orb, the fact that it turns you into a guaranteed hiisi makes getting that orb pretty straight forward. I won't get into how to steal the orb with polymorphine, as it's pretty well documented and this post is getting long. 2. k i l l. this is the second reason I made this post. If you have a tablet, then you shoudn't ever be scared of the enemies in the ancient laboratory, as I said earlier the more you do something, the better get at it, I have learned how to deal with the enemies there, if you know how to use tablets offensively then you'll have to trust me, they are absolute pushovers. You'll be able to get so much gold from them that anything in the first 3 levels will be essentially free And that's it, basically! If you've been gifted with acceleratium, or godlike patience, you can even go for the orb on top of the pyramid. If you did all these things you can grab the full heal, and you'll be sitting at a c o n f o r t a b l e: - 200hp base, more if you find natural hearts - a minimum of 1000 gold, up to 1800 - 2000 if really master the laboratory enemies and don't get too greedy - multiple flasks of incedibly versatile magical liquids, I'm taking teleportatium, potentially ambrosia, berserkium, pheromone, which are pretty common in the lab - and the confidence that with these things, you'll have an incredible run ahead of you, I'm sure of it
Also I'm sorry if this post is bad, I'm not that good at writing these guide things, and I mostly just wanted to express easy the dark cave and and ancient laboratory really are
2024.05.18 22:02 hkusp45css Help out an old player, please
Sorry in advance for the long read ....
So, I have a lot of experience playing Magic. I have a *ton* of cards from ~'94-'99 sets. I would like to start playing again at a reasonably competitive level. One of my sons has caught the bug and we've been having a blast with a few precon EDH decks and a fistful of the "battle decks" from CK.
Sadly, it seems as though CK has stopped actually making battle decks (they've been OOS for ages) and, that's OK. I want to get back into deck building, anyway.
My issue is that "back in my day" we used to just buy boxes of expansions to crack and build with. This, of course, would leave with loads of cruff and dupes I didn't want but, HEY, *that's* how you build a collection, amirite?
I'm informed by numerous sources that this is no longer "the thing to do" and I'm supposed to, instead, get my value by designing a deck (or finding one I want to try) and buying the singles.
Perfect. No sweat. I have a debit card and the internet. I understand the assignment.
Here's where it goes wonky, for me.
I find a deck that I think is about in my price range (let's just say 50 bucks) and I hit the "Buy it at TCGPlayer" button.
Well, now I have 40 different orders, for 60 cards. All charging 1.50-5.00 for shipping and the cards that filled the order aren't the ones I want. They're at the high end of the price guide, or they're from slow sellers, or those with a few negatives. So, now my 50 dollar deck, is going to be 200.
"Fine" says I. I'll go find a few larger stores and see if I can consolidate my orders to them.
No dice. The larger stores that have some of the cards, don't have the majority of others. This works no matter which store I pick.
"Fine" says I. I'll hit up CK, they'll have everything in one spot. But, CK is 50-100 percent higher on every card. Even with free shipping, my 50 dollar deck, is going to be 200.
So, really, how do you fine folks do it? How do you get the 50 bucks worth of cards for *around* 50-60 bucks?
I'm about to just go buy 350 dollars of EDH precons and call it a day, even if it doesn't help my collection the way I want it to (and even if EDH isn't my favorite format, or my kid's favorite). Or just buy three boxes of play boosters, even if I can't build the decks I want out of them.
Can y'all drag me into the new century and explain what I'm missing in my process, please?
I honestly enjoyed the value that 12 bucks worth of CK decks brought to the table. But, I can't get that kind of stuff anymore (apparently) and it's really not a great way to get a bunch of cards to brew with.
submitted by hkusp45css to mtg [link] [comments]
So, I have a lot of experience playing Magic. I have a *ton* of cards from ~'94-'99 sets. I would like to start playing again at a reasonably competitive level. One of my sons has caught the bug and we've been having a blast with a few precon EDH decks and a fistful of the "battle decks" from CK.
Sadly, it seems as though CK has stopped actually making battle decks (they've been OOS for ages) and, that's OK. I want to get back into deck building, anyway.
My issue is that "back in my day" we used to just buy boxes of expansions to crack and build with. This, of course, would leave with loads of cruff and dupes I didn't want but, HEY, *that's* how you build a collection, amirite?
I'm informed by numerous sources that this is no longer "the thing to do" and I'm supposed to, instead, get my value by designing a deck (or finding one I want to try) and buying the singles.
Perfect. No sweat. I have a debit card and the internet. I understand the assignment.
Here's where it goes wonky, for me.
I find a deck that I think is about in my price range (let's just say 50 bucks) and I hit the "Buy it at TCGPlayer" button.
Well, now I have 40 different orders, for 60 cards. All charging 1.50-5.00 for shipping and the cards that filled the order aren't the ones I want. They're at the high end of the price guide, or they're from slow sellers, or those with a few negatives. So, now my 50 dollar deck, is going to be 200.
"Fine" says I. I'll go find a few larger stores and see if I can consolidate my orders to them.
No dice. The larger stores that have some of the cards, don't have the majority of others. This works no matter which store I pick.
"Fine" says I. I'll hit up CK, they'll have everything in one spot. But, CK is 50-100 percent higher on every card. Even with free shipping, my 50 dollar deck, is going to be 200.
So, really, how do you fine folks do it? How do you get the 50 bucks worth of cards for *around* 50-60 bucks?
I'm about to just go buy 350 dollars of EDH precons and call it a day, even if it doesn't help my collection the way I want it to (and even if EDH isn't my favorite format, or my kid's favorite). Or just buy three boxes of play boosters, even if I can't build the decks I want out of them.
Can y'all drag me into the new century and explain what I'm missing in my process, please?
I honestly enjoyed the value that 12 bucks worth of CK decks brought to the table. But, I can't get that kind of stuff anymore (apparently) and it's really not a great way to get a bunch of cards to brew with.
2024.05.18 21:55 therealdocturner Shriveled
Blake was listening to his sister through his headphones while she ripped into him about his hopeless addiction to pornography. He rolled his eyes as she went on and on about his sexist attitudes and his distorted views on women and sex. If his sister had only known that he was scrolling through explicitly drawn versions of Marge Simpson and Lois Griffin in various poses with various props, she would have hung up the phone and given up.
As far as Blake was concerned there were no distortions in his mind about women. He had lived through so many interactions and had seen so many videos of women being terrible people that it only reinforced his bias.
Porn didn’t judge Blake. Porn didn’t make Blake do things that he didn’t want to do. He spent time with women the way he wanted to. If he wanted a woman to act a certain way, he could find a video where she did just that.
The way he saw it, women wanted a lot, and if they didn’t get what they wanted, they made everyone’s life hell until they did. Conversely, if a man wanted something, it was tough luck. He watched his mother treat his father like that until the day he died, overworked and unhappy.
Less than a year after his mother put his father in the ground, she was with someone else that she was all too happy to control. Porn gave Blake the control, and he liked it.
“Blake, I love you, but you’re going to waste your whole life in front of a screen holding your dick.”
“Don’t you have another kid that you should be working on squirting out?”
She hung up.
Blake was caught watching videos at work again, but this time he had a plan. He knew eventually that he would be caught, but after losing three jobs for the very same reason, he hatched a simple way of ensuring that he wouldn’t lose out on any money, and be able to stick it to the boss and company he hated for no other reason than employing him.
Blake was called into his manager’s office, but before anything could be said, Blake blurted out that he needed to take mental leave. He sobbed in front of his manager while he said that the job was giving him thoughts of hopelessness and self harm, but he was smiling on the inside. He was talking just loud enough for a few people outside of the office to hear him.
His manager's face was red.
“Cornered you, bitch.” Blake thought to himself. “Good luck firing someone who’s crying out for mental help.”
Blake figured that he’d be able to stretch this out for at least a month. A month of paid time off doing what he loved.
“It’s my phone!” he muttered to himself as he rode the elevator down to his new found freedom. “If people have a problem with the things I’m looking at, perhaps they shouldn’t be looking over my shoulder and mind their own fucking business.”
He didn’t mind the other people in the elevator, or their awkward expressions. They didn’t matter to him. No one really did.
Still on a high from manipulating his boss into a corner, Blake decided to do something new on the bus ride to his apartment building. He clicked on a video. He wasn’t exactly watching the video, rather he was watching people’s reactions out of the corners of his eyes.
He kept the volume low, but up just enough so the moaning could be heard.
At first, people around him were wondering if they were actually hearing what they thought they were hearing.
He was trying not to laugh at their reactions. People began to move to other seats, and soon enough, everyone was giving him disgusted looks.
“Fuck em.” he whispered.
He noticed one man sitting in the back of the bus who was giving him quite a different look than everyone else. The man was well dressed. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth.
He was smiling at Blake.
Blake, a self admitted and overly enthusiastic homophobe, turned off the video. He began to worry that he had attracted the wrong kind of attention.
Blake was all too eager to get out of the bus and hurry towards the doors to his building. He heard a voice behind him that caused him to catch a breath and lose his forward progress. He turned around. It was the beautiful man from the back of the bus.
“Excuse me! I’d like to have a word!”
Blake found his voice hypnotic, and his stride was elegant, almost like he was floating just above the cracked and cruddy sidewalk.
“I uh… couldn’t help but notice what you were doing on the bus young man. I think I have something you might be interested in.”
Blake was lost in that voice. He had never been attracted to another man, but he was feeling things inside himself that he’d never felt before, and he hated himself for it. After a long awkward silence, Blake finally found his voice.
“Look buddy, take your pixy dust and bother someone else. You’re not my type.”
“Oh, you’re definitely my type.” The beautiful man laughed and handed him a plain white business card with nothing but a web address on it. “In so many different ways, you’re exactly my type.”
“What is this?”
“It’s my business, Kid. You want videos you can’t tear yourself away from? Trust me. It’s the newest thing.”
He winked at Blake and walked away.
-
Blake was staring at his screen while he was riding in the elevator. There was a paywall. A dollar for the first month, then a hundred dollars a month after that.
No screenshots or thumbnails, just a form for a credit card. As the doors opened to his floor, he put his phone in his pocket and decided against any further investigation. He was sure that it was a scam of some kind.
Until ten o’clock that night, Blake engaged in his normal activities with one new addition he had begun almost two weeks prior. He built two shelves in front of two different air vents in his apartment, and he had placed speakers on the shelves. The tenants in his building got to experience all of the auditory pleasures of the thrusting and jiggling and smacking that he was watching.
Blake made sure he followed the rules, and nothing came out of those speakers after ten p.m., but it was fair game until that time.
He would laugh to himself thinking about the tenants having to listen. He wasn’t sure how far the sound traveled through the vents, but he figured that most people on his floor were getting a good chunk of it.
That night though, his usual joyful time in front of his phone, his 70 inch television, and his newly discovered fondness for Cerave was marred by the thought of something unique and dangerous out there that he hadn’t seen.
After several attempts at a satisfactory denouement in his masturbatory madness, Blake finally gave up, raised the white flag on its limp post, and went to bed.
Blake kept hearing the man’s siren-like voice in his head while he tried to sleep. After almost two hours of tossing and turning, he sat up and snatched his phone from the charger and typed his credit card information into the mysterious site. He just had to know.
The site opened up and he was instantly intrigued. There were no thumbnails on any of the videos, but the descriptions on each of them were so graphic, profane, and dehumanizing that it would do us all a great service if they were not repeated here. Blake’s favorite appendage however, jumped to a zealous attention at the graphic depictions that the perverse descriptions painted within his brain.
Blake stripped off his briefs and sat down on the edge of his bed. His left hand gripped the phone while his right hand eagerly gripped something else.
He clicked on the first video and it began to load.
Blake waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The video wasn’t loading, so Blake decided to try another one, only to find that his left thumb wouldn’t move. He realized that his entire body was stiff. Nothing would move with the exception of his eyes. He couldn’t even speak.
All he could do was stare at the glowing screen in the darkness of his apartment.
After a moment, his mind started to race while his body remained ridiculously rigid.
Three hours had passed. Blake had been able to see every minute tick by. He had watched his battery meter slowly run down to eighty percent. He had thought that his screen would eventually turn off, but it never did. It was still trying to load the video.
Something was tickling his nose and his face itched. His back had begun to ache and he felt some tiny pin pricks along his still turgid tool. He wanted to cry, but nothing would come. In fact, his eyes had begun to dry because he had not been able to blink.
Blake watched another hour go by before his body finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep, in spite of the fact that he could not close his eyes.
He awoke six hours later and his vision was partially obscured. Still holding his phone and his phallus, Blake tried to scream. The sun was now coming through the window of his apartment. He could see his reflection in the mirror that was on the opposite wall. His hair was long, and it was white. A spotty and wiry beard had exploded out of his face and it hung down to just above his enlarged and sagging nipples set in a sagging and flabby chest.
His breaths were shorty and ragged; phlegm was gurgling with each inspiration.
His arms and legs were covered in large liver spots and all of his skin was a purple paper thin.
He was old.
The shock of seeing his hunched and rigid reflection had staved off the feeling of pain from his nether regions for only a moment. His fingernails were growing on his hands. Some of the yellow things were curling around his phone while the others were curling and jabbing into what now looked like a deflated balloon stretched too thin, that was desperately trying to retreat into his abdomen against his rigid grip.
The battery on his phone was blinking.
It was about to die. He wondered what happened when the battery ran out, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew exactly what would happen when that loading screen finally went dark.
His sister’s words were all he could think about as the screen and the world went dark.
After several nights of peace, Blake’s neighbors noticed an awful smell emanating from the air vents. After several complaints, the building’s Super opened Blake’s apartment and found the withered, still rigid frame of a dead old man sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
After taking several photos that he would post later on social media and stealthily absconding with almost a full bottle of Cerave, the Super called the authorities.
submitted by therealdocturner to tinyhorribles [link] [comments]
As far as Blake was concerned there were no distortions in his mind about women. He had lived through so many interactions and had seen so many videos of women being terrible people that it only reinforced his bias.
Porn didn’t judge Blake. Porn didn’t make Blake do things that he didn’t want to do. He spent time with women the way he wanted to. If he wanted a woman to act a certain way, he could find a video where she did just that.
The way he saw it, women wanted a lot, and if they didn’t get what they wanted, they made everyone’s life hell until they did. Conversely, if a man wanted something, it was tough luck. He watched his mother treat his father like that until the day he died, overworked and unhappy.
Less than a year after his mother put his father in the ground, she was with someone else that she was all too happy to control. Porn gave Blake the control, and he liked it.
“Blake, I love you, but you’re going to waste your whole life in front of a screen holding your dick.”
“Don’t you have another kid that you should be working on squirting out?”
She hung up.
Blake was caught watching videos at work again, but this time he had a plan. He knew eventually that he would be caught, but after losing three jobs for the very same reason, he hatched a simple way of ensuring that he wouldn’t lose out on any money, and be able to stick it to the boss and company he hated for no other reason than employing him.
Blake was called into his manager’s office, but before anything could be said, Blake blurted out that he needed to take mental leave. He sobbed in front of his manager while he said that the job was giving him thoughts of hopelessness and self harm, but he was smiling on the inside. He was talking just loud enough for a few people outside of the office to hear him.
His manager's face was red.
“Cornered you, bitch.” Blake thought to himself. “Good luck firing someone who’s crying out for mental help.”
Blake figured that he’d be able to stretch this out for at least a month. A month of paid time off doing what he loved.
“It’s my phone!” he muttered to himself as he rode the elevator down to his new found freedom. “If people have a problem with the things I’m looking at, perhaps they shouldn’t be looking over my shoulder and mind their own fucking business.”
He didn’t mind the other people in the elevator, or their awkward expressions. They didn’t matter to him. No one really did.
Still on a high from manipulating his boss into a corner, Blake decided to do something new on the bus ride to his apartment building. He clicked on a video. He wasn’t exactly watching the video, rather he was watching people’s reactions out of the corners of his eyes.
He kept the volume low, but up just enough so the moaning could be heard.
At first, people around him were wondering if they were actually hearing what they thought they were hearing.
He was trying not to laugh at their reactions. People began to move to other seats, and soon enough, everyone was giving him disgusted looks.
“Fuck em.” he whispered.
He noticed one man sitting in the back of the bus who was giving him quite a different look than everyone else. The man was well dressed. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth.
He was smiling at Blake.
Blake, a self admitted and overly enthusiastic homophobe, turned off the video. He began to worry that he had attracted the wrong kind of attention.
Blake was all too eager to get out of the bus and hurry towards the doors to his building. He heard a voice behind him that caused him to catch a breath and lose his forward progress. He turned around. It was the beautiful man from the back of the bus.
“Excuse me! I’d like to have a word!”
Blake found his voice hypnotic, and his stride was elegant, almost like he was floating just above the cracked and cruddy sidewalk.
“I uh… couldn’t help but notice what you were doing on the bus young man. I think I have something you might be interested in.”
Blake was lost in that voice. He had never been attracted to another man, but he was feeling things inside himself that he’d never felt before, and he hated himself for it. After a long awkward silence, Blake finally found his voice.
“Look buddy, take your pixy dust and bother someone else. You’re not my type.”
“Oh, you’re definitely my type.” The beautiful man laughed and handed him a plain white business card with nothing but a web address on it. “In so many different ways, you’re exactly my type.”
“What is this?”
“It’s my business, Kid. You want videos you can’t tear yourself away from? Trust me. It’s the newest thing.”
He winked at Blake and walked away.
-
Blake was staring at his screen while he was riding in the elevator. There was a paywall. A dollar for the first month, then a hundred dollars a month after that.
No screenshots or thumbnails, just a form for a credit card. As the doors opened to his floor, he put his phone in his pocket and decided against any further investigation. He was sure that it was a scam of some kind.
Until ten o’clock that night, Blake engaged in his normal activities with one new addition he had begun almost two weeks prior. He built two shelves in front of two different air vents in his apartment, and he had placed speakers on the shelves. The tenants in his building got to experience all of the auditory pleasures of the thrusting and jiggling and smacking that he was watching.
Blake made sure he followed the rules, and nothing came out of those speakers after ten p.m., but it was fair game until that time.
He would laugh to himself thinking about the tenants having to listen. He wasn’t sure how far the sound traveled through the vents, but he figured that most people on his floor were getting a good chunk of it.
That night though, his usual joyful time in front of his phone, his 70 inch television, and his newly discovered fondness for Cerave was marred by the thought of something unique and dangerous out there that he hadn’t seen.
After several attempts at a satisfactory denouement in his masturbatory madness, Blake finally gave up, raised the white flag on its limp post, and went to bed.
Blake kept hearing the man’s siren-like voice in his head while he tried to sleep. After almost two hours of tossing and turning, he sat up and snatched his phone from the charger and typed his credit card information into the mysterious site. He just had to know.
The site opened up and he was instantly intrigued. There were no thumbnails on any of the videos, but the descriptions on each of them were so graphic, profane, and dehumanizing that it would do us all a great service if they were not repeated here. Blake’s favorite appendage however, jumped to a zealous attention at the graphic depictions that the perverse descriptions painted within his brain.
Blake stripped off his briefs and sat down on the edge of his bed. His left hand gripped the phone while his right hand eagerly gripped something else.
He clicked on the first video and it began to load.
Blake waited.
And waited.
And waited.
The video wasn’t loading, so Blake decided to try another one, only to find that his left thumb wouldn’t move. He realized that his entire body was stiff. Nothing would move with the exception of his eyes. He couldn’t even speak.
All he could do was stare at the glowing screen in the darkness of his apartment.
After a moment, his mind started to race while his body remained ridiculously rigid.
Three hours had passed. Blake had been able to see every minute tick by. He had watched his battery meter slowly run down to eighty percent. He had thought that his screen would eventually turn off, but it never did. It was still trying to load the video.
Something was tickling his nose and his face itched. His back had begun to ache and he felt some tiny pin pricks along his still turgid tool. He wanted to cry, but nothing would come. In fact, his eyes had begun to dry because he had not been able to blink.
Blake watched another hour go by before his body finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep, in spite of the fact that he could not close his eyes.
He awoke six hours later and his vision was partially obscured. Still holding his phone and his phallus, Blake tried to scream. The sun was now coming through the window of his apartment. He could see his reflection in the mirror that was on the opposite wall. His hair was long, and it was white. A spotty and wiry beard had exploded out of his face and it hung down to just above his enlarged and sagging nipples set in a sagging and flabby chest.
His breaths were shorty and ragged; phlegm was gurgling with each inspiration.
His arms and legs were covered in large liver spots and all of his skin was a purple paper thin.
He was old.
The shock of seeing his hunched and rigid reflection had staved off the feeling of pain from his nether regions for only a moment. His fingernails were growing on his hands. Some of the yellow things were curling around his phone while the others were curling and jabbing into what now looked like a deflated balloon stretched too thin, that was desperately trying to retreat into his abdomen against his rigid grip.
The battery on his phone was blinking.
It was about to die. He wondered what happened when the battery ran out, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew exactly what would happen when that loading screen finally went dark.
His sister’s words were all he could think about as the screen and the world went dark.
After several nights of peace, Blake’s neighbors noticed an awful smell emanating from the air vents. After several complaints, the building’s Super opened Blake’s apartment and found the withered, still rigid frame of a dead old man sitting upright on the edge of the bed.
After taking several photos that he would post later on social media and stealthily absconding with almost a full bottle of Cerave, the Super called the authorities.
2024.05.18 21:51 Superb_Investment_37 how to make sure i buy good 2nd hand iphone?
I want to buy my bf an iphone for his birthday because he really deserves it because of how good he has been to me and he's been using a beat up samsung with a cracked screen for 6 years now, i can see he's struggling so much with his online classes and school apps because of how worn down his phone is, most of the time i let him borrow my iphone 7 for his classes because of how bad his device is. I'm planning to buy him a 2nd hand iphone 11, please don't recommend any higher end na iphone i get that it's so much better but 12k is just my maximum budget as a broke working student. A 2nd hand iphone 11 is the best phone i can buy at that price because my kuya said androids at that price range esp 2nd hand will tend to lag very quickly, i just want my bf to have a phone that lasts a really long time but still be fast and reliable. How do i make sure i don't get scammed by seller? can you share your tips when buying 2nd hand? i've never done this before.
submitted by Superb_Investment_37 to Tech_Philippines [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 21:41 Slep1k Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas (How would you rate this game?)
 | This is my experience with the story mode. Keep in mind that it differs from person to person and you shouldn’t compare yours with that of the others. ⬇️ submitted by Slep1k to GTA [link] [comments] 💟 (Phenomenal) ✅ (Very Good) ✴️ (Good) ⛔️ (Bad) STORY 💟 Storytelling 💟 - Starting with the low life gangsters and rising to the top of the world, just to be reminded where you came from. - Each mission has its own storyline, be it a simple job, a date, a well planed heist or a complex robbery. - Tenpenny vs CJ was a good battle, way too stretched and way too one sided though. Only the final mission had the chips turned upside down. - The Driver game by Reflections was played by nearly everyone during some cutscenes, funny how all of them sucked at it, myself included. Characters 💟 - CJ was a good character. Way too vulnerable in my opinion. Everyone from the start of the game was pushing him around, using him, not taking him seriously, and what’s even worse, even by the end, I didn’t feel any power emanating from him. - Tenpenny and Samuel L. Jackson’s performance made this game a thousand times better. The lines, calmness, just two fucks given, a real motherfucker! - Catalina and Claude, yeah, Claude from GTA III made a cool presentation of how crazy women can be. She kept calling CJ throughout the game and expressing her love in a weird manner. - Sweet was a dumb fool. Having an opportunity to get out of the hood and live the life, he chose to stay within it and remain a low life, dragging everyone with him. - Big smoke was all talk and didn’t appear on screen for too long, which was a good thing. His whole part in this game was very confusing and didn’t provide any meaningful input. - Woozie was my favourite. Even when blind, he always knew that whichever path he followed, it would lead him to HIS destination. Setting 💟 - The whole California vibe was incredible. - Starting with the low life hoods, then moving towards the unknown forests, deserts, and finally reaching the big city with all the casinos. - Los Santos was super detailed and didn’t lack any of its vibe. Pacing ✴️ - Somewhat good. Starting slow, then blasting through a variety of missions, and finally ending with a well balanced pace. - Some missions are badly stretched and lack the fast travel option. - Driving around for 10 minutes just to arrive at your destination and failing due to a technical flaw in the game’s design is the most painful thing you can endure, even Souls games didn’t give me that much grief. GAMEPLAY ✅ Controls ✅ - Enjoyable but very confusing at the start. Coming from GTA III & Vice City, this was a heavy change. - The auto aim works wonders, although sometimes it’s better to use manual. - Cars feel very good and you can actually improve their skill and controls. - Boats are very enjoyable with the quick turns and acceleration. - Helicopters and planes have a heavy feel, each one with a different control and feeling. Some buttons like the R3 to retract the wheels are wrong. Mechanics 💟 - Starting with the gang territories, they were frustrating. Each one was confusing to acquire and by the end, a chore. - Like in Vice City there were properties which you acquired by completing missions with the usual cash reward. I so wished there was a taxi one which gave you the fast travel option. - There were some missions hunting bikers for cash and doing different jobs. - The gym for muscle growth, dating, driving, lung capacity and more, all of these had their meter to fill and felt like a chore. The flying and driving schools were cool though. Exploration 💟 - Impressive for a game made in 2004. So many different buildings which weren’t marked on the map that you could enter. - Based on 3 huge islands there were a whole lot to explore. Starting with collectibles which provide special rewards, hidden weapons, cars, planes, and more. - The map was so huge that you could get lost within a city, sometimes the map was the only way you could escape. Missions/Events ✅ - I loved each of them, but I hated their length. Some start and end very quickly, while the others have crazy long distances and make your finger hurt by pressing X for too long. - The diversity, pain and fun you had in each of them was a colourful experience. - Starting with the hood, the simplicity, and finishing with the casino heists, which required some crazy feats. For reference, the jet hijack was hilarious. Difficulty ✴️ - Way harder than expected. The missions in themselves aren’t hard, it’s their longevity. - Advancing into a mission for 20 minutes just to fail due to the lack of health items is very painful. - The last mission was made by sadistic fucks. I think it went on for longer than an hour, and if you fail, you get to experience it all over again. The game was way too rushed if you ask me. - Very hard and incredibly frustrating, that’s what I’m going with. SOUND DESIGN 💟 Surround Sound 💟 - I loved it. Each interaction, cutscene, music, cars, planes, everything was synched together delivering a beautiful experience. - Sometimes characters would fall behind and you’ll hear them as if it was real life. The distance was felt, effects made you exited, voices created feeling, all around great. Sound Effects 💟 - Incredible for such a game. As soon as you start, you can feel each car’s engine, people talking to each other, planes flying on top of your head, police chasing criminals and so on. - CJ hurting, people dying, cars getting blown or destroyed, gunfire, tires, so many details that I can’t even write them all down. Voice Acting 💟 - The game delivered some movie quality acting right here. I was so hyped when I hear S. L. Jackson, he really carried. - Each character had his own accent and personality. Transferring emotions through the screen is hard in a movie, let alone a video game, and this one delivered. Music 💟 - Each to their own. There’re a whole bunch of radio stations from which you can choose your favorite one. I for once didn’t have a favorite, because each one was perfect in its own way. VISUALS ✅ Fidelity 💟 - Astronomical achievement. I can’t believe this game came on a DVD and had these amazing details. - The field of view was short indeed, but on such a big scale, texture streaming was impressive. Even when flying through the city, it somehow kept up with the pace. Performance ✴️ - I wouldn’t go as far as good, but I’d give it an acceptable vote. - Most of the time the frame rate was below 30 with terrible screen tearing and freezes. I do understand though, the game had revolutionary details. Textures 💟 - Every single thing in Los Santos is incredibly detailed. You could stop by some houses in the wild and admire their design, pick a variety of cars while destroying them and wonder how they did it, look at NPCs in the world and follow their actions. - Each location is well made and doesn’t lack anything really, Rockstar’s craft is on another level. Effects 💟 - From fires spreading through the wild, sandstorms, rain, waves and much more, such a cool vibe. - Flying around through the clouds and foggy cities was such a great experience! COMBAT 💟 Flow 💟 - Good progression through enemies. Each one has a health bar, some can be killed with headshots or running them over. - The gore and head explosions are cool. I wish there was total body dismemberment though. - Free aiming is difficult at times, until you get the sensitivity right. Diversity 💟 - Starting with a normal car run over, then a knife in the neck, a silent shot to the skull, 30 shots to the body, even if already dead, a snipe to the genitals, a rocket to a chopper, a jet with missiles and much more. - So many creative ways to kill people that one can just wonder. Enemy Variety ✅ - A bunch of gangsters, police, swat, bosses and more, the game has incredible NPC development. - Most of them have the same weapons and make your life harder, but overall very cool. Weapons 💟 - Super fun and a whole lot of them. The dildo had me cracking. The ability to kill people with that thing already gave this game a 10/10! - Choppers have mini guns and rockets, same as jets but these have an auto aim system as well. Stealth 💟 - I love stealth in games and this one didn’t disappoint. The way CJ sneaks behind enemies and delivers the final blow with that sweet sound effect is very pleasing. - Most missions have a choice, either sneak or go guns blazing. DRIVING ✅ Flow ✴️ - Good driving around enjoying a beautiful landscape while listening to some great songs. - The problem lies in NPCs. They occasionally drive into you and cause mayhem. Other than that, they have no sense of awareness. You can sit at a light waiting for it to go green, and they will just honk at you endlessly while passing you aggressively. - Cars have weight and it shows, what I mean is how quickly they get upside down. Not to mention the fact that a car will always blow up if it does so, right? NPCs ⛔️ - Dumb and critically aggressive. Sometimes you have to avoid them altogether to complete a mission. Cops ✅ - Coming from previous GTAs, this game was somehow a relief. They were aggressive, sure, but not as aggressive as in previous titles. Cars/Planes 💟 - Impressive variety. From normal to trucks and finally to super cars. - Boats have different ones with small, medium and large ones. - Helicopters have a cool variety too. Normal, combat, pickup, and so on. - Jets and planes have a unique feel. Some aquaplanes as well. Quite impressive! Roads 💟 - Very detailed in every way. As an example, if you drive in the rain, the car would have a water print behind it, or the desert would have dust, even in water there’re waves. - Each one is well made and connects to each island through bridges. WORLD DESIGN 💟 Atmosphere 💟 - The initial vibe wasn’t as good, all dark and without proper scale, but as you progress through the game, it expands like the universe itself. - You start discovering different locations, sights, landscapes, roads, cities and it becomes one of the greatest experiences on PS2. Surroundings 💟 - Loved each city and desert. You could go on the highway and stop for a couple of seconds just because of the sunrise. Or drive through the city and see a yellow marker that doesn’t have anything on the map, so you go exploring. - Each part of the game has astonishing surroundings and level designs. You can get lost in it. Landscapes 💟 - Extremely beautiful. For a 2004 game, I bet people back in the day were all ecstatic. World Destruction ✴️ - Overall good, nothing too impressive on an environmental scale. - The usual car blowing up, planes, boats, motorcycles, and so on. - There’re a couple of locations where there’re some minor level changing destructions, but nothing too impressive. |
2024.05.18 21:32 Ramora_ Hades 2 weapons and aspects discussion
At this point, I've unlocked and played with all of the non-hidden aspects. I'm not sure if there are any hidden aspects in the game yet. This post exists to help me organize my thoughts on the various weapons as well as to get other peoples opinions. Please feel free to share your own thoughts or comment on mine.
What do you all think? What do you think of my proposed changes? Are there any huge things I overlooked or got wrong? Do you think Ygnium is fun?
submitted by Ramora_ to HadesTheGame [link] [comments]
- Descura (staff) : The "basic" weapon of the game with a simple fast combo attack, useful ranged attacks, and generally good frame data. It can outrange most enemy attacks and is much faster than most enemy attacks making It generally effective at all ranges and generally safe. It makes perfect sense that this is the introductory weapon.
- Aspect of Melinoe : The already safe weapon becomes marginally safer by accelerating omega moves. I generally think this aspect could use a buff. Honestly, all of the "omega effects are faster" have struck me as really underpowered and barely noticeable. This is exacerbated by "the sorceress" arcana which makes pretty much all casts reasonably safe already. Maybe making the numbers bigger would make it feel better? Maxing out at 50% instead of (I believe) 30%. IDK, The buff just doesn't do enough to be interesting. I think a total redesign is needed since, at the moment, this aspect seems mostly overshadowed by...
- Aspect of Circe : Staff now gains a very powerful arcana recovery after 21 hits. This recovery ALSO makes your omega moves 15% faster. The arcana recovery is extremely potent which kind of eliminates the need for a gain boon and/or "the unseen" arcana, though obviously more recovery is better. I suspect the staff would feel better if upgrading it reduced the number of hits needed to activate serenity instead of increasing the length of serenity. But in general, I think this is an interesting aspect that changes how you evaluate a lot of boons
- Aspect of Momus : Staff now deals a lot more base special damage and can heal you using Omega special when you are low health, and this healing works outside combat meaning you can essentially always heal up to 50% after a battle (assuming you have arcana). This aspect is totally cracked. Your special goes from being a fast ranged poke for 10 to a poke for 40, and again that is base damage so you can toss a boon on top to get to 60-80 damage per hit. If this aspect only healed you or only buffed the special it would be a reasonable design. The fact that it does both and does both very well is absurd.
- Final Thoughts: Aspect of Momus seems way over tuned. Aspect of Melinoe and Aspect of Circe seem to be really stepping on eachothers toes in terms of design space since they both give you the same buff in slightly different ways. If I was a designer, I'd take the special damage buff from Momus and give it to Melinoe, replacing the omega speed buff. I'd then make the Momus heal effect work when dealing Omega attack damage instead of when hitting yourself with the Omega special. This would mean that there would be a special focused aspect, an attack focused aspect, and an Omega focussed aspect with no stepping on any toes.
- Lim and Oros (daggers) : These remind me a lot of twin fists from the first game. They are fast, short range weapons but can extend out to medium range using an omega attack or special. They feel really good to use.
- Aspect of Melinoe : Now buffed to deal more backstab damage which plays well (albeit a bit inconsistently) with the omega attack. I wish the numbers were a bit higher. As is, the buff doesn't feel super relevant and doesn't much change how I approach combats. I don't find myself working that hard to get backstrikes, but I happily benefit when they happen
- Aspect of Artemis : Faster omega attack + a "riposte" ability that can block damage and buff your own that will work once every 15 seconds. Again, I find the "faster omega" buff to be not super noticeable, and that is all you get for upgrading. I don't have a ton of experience with this aspect. I don't enjoy the waiting required to let an enemy attack me to activate riposte to get the actual crit buff and then the further waiting for riposte to be active again. The latter "wait" could be removed by, for example, putting riposte on a 25 hit cooldown which could be reduced via upgrade. I think this would make the aspect feel a lot better
- Aspect of Pan: The omega special focused daggers that now take longer to charge and hit more times. This is trying to be reminiscent of the Bow aspect of Chiron but it doesn't really work. That weapon worked because you could smoothly transition from long range attack to a medium range special (thanks to the seeking effect) which would then wear off allowing you to transition into short range specials or dash out to reengage at long range. This led to really dynamic combat with interesting decisions. Aspect of pan is trying to do the same thing where your knives seek out enemies in your cast letting you increase the effective range of your omega special, but your cast is a short range effect already, at best medium range if you get a throw cast, and if you are already at short range, you can just dump an omega special into an enemy without the seeking effect at all. All in all, I think this would be a better design if the seeking effect just wasn't there and all it did was increase number of knives thrown, making the omega special a more effective medium range AOE and more damaging close range tool
- Final thoughts: All in all, I really like these designs. I think they could all use some tweaks but all the aspects feel different and potentially interesting after some relatively minor tweaks
- Ygnium (torches) : These feel atrocious to use. Slow moving attacks, special attacks that you can't meaningfully target with, an extremely slow omega attack that requires slowly spamming the attack that also makes you move slow. You can occasionally dash to reposition while using your attack, but it still feels bad. The omega special attack just deals some more passive damage, with no hit stun, on enemies who come close. In terms of numbers, this weapon really isn't that bad, it deals good damage, it just feels miserable and spammy. I have almost no control over what enemies I'm attacking, I'm just kind of throwing out hit boxes and trying to maintain good spacing to keep the hit boxes relevant.
- Aspect of Melinoe : The omega special I hate now lasts a bit longer.
- Aspect of Moros : The spammy imprecise attack now has a secondary hitbox if you also spam your special.
- Aspect of Eos : The spammy imprecise attack now has a different secondary hitbox but it triggers on dash instead of special
- Final thoughts: Honestly, I just don't think this weapon is fun and if it was completely cut from the game with no replacement, I think the game would be better.
- Zorephet (greate axe) : The heavy hitting melee weapon. Giant hit boxes and giant damage. The special is weird. I don't intuit why a giant battle axe would have a "shield" for a special. The specials hit box is deceptively small, and the block effect is finicky and unreliable. The omega special is epic though.
- Aspect of Melinoe : Your giant axe is now a bit faster. It is a pretty subtle effect though.
- Aspect of Charon : Your cast + omega special combo now works even better. Bonus points for helping to teach players the cast + omega special combo. Again, the numbers seem tweaked such that the actual buff (damage buff for cast) is pretty small. It is definitely noticeable at higher rank, but doesn't feel great. It is also awkward that this ALSO makes your omega cast last longer despite not being detonated by your omega special. Making your omega cast last longer is usually a bad thing so this feels like a strange nerf
- Aspect of Thanatos : Big numbers are even bigger thanks to the pretty substantial crit buff this aspect offers. At low ranks, this buff is pretty negligible, at high ranks this buff becomes very significant.
- Final thoughts: This is another great batch of designs. I think the omega cast for Aspect of Charon needs to be fixed. I think some numbers need tweaking, but the designs make a ton of sense and after some minor tweaks, I think they will all feel really good.
- Revaal (skulls) : I think this is the most interesting weapon Hades 2. Its a heavy hitting medium range attack with an ammo feature. These are kind of reminiscent from the cast from Hades 1, but play much better since the skulls always drop immediately. It really sucks when your skulls wind up off the map though. It just grinds the game to a halt. The special attack is a weird dash that is pretty boring and weak. The omega special is a massive AOE that is actually pretty useful.
- Aspect of Melinoe : Your attack deals more damage, and deals even more damage if you can optimize your range. No notes. Aspect is great.
- Aspect of Medea : Basically, you are now your attack hit box. Your attack now sticks to you, deal damage on a time delay, and deal a bit more damage. Your omega attack stays a ranged attack if you need a ranged attack. I like the idea here but its stepping on the toes of Aspect of Melinoe a bit.
- Aspect of Persephone: This is the omega special focused aspect. The first effect is simple, increase omega special damage. The second is pretty complicated. When you deal damage, you charge up a little "chaos", after you charge enough, potentially over many encounters, you can use your omega special, except after your initial dash you will be put into a invincible sprint and keep shooting out beams with the amount of time you sprint dependent on how much chaos you banked up. Basically, your omega special acts kind of like a call boon from Hades 1. I think its a cool idea but it charges extremely slowly. If I were the designer, I'd have it charge much more quickly when you get in hits but then lose charge over time. This would the super omega special a cool reward for playing aggressively that players could feasibly use more like once or twice per encounter instead of once or twice per floor. Maybe make the max invulnerability time shorter to compensate.
- Final thoughts: Again, this is another batch of interesting designs. I don't like that two of the aspects basically boil down to being attack buffs, but at least the attacks themselves are radically different. I also think aspect of Persephone needs some pretty substantial tweaks.
What do you all think? What do you think of my proposed changes? Are there any huge things I overlooked or got wrong? Do you think Ygnium is fun?
2024.05.18 21:28 karicare Can someone please help?
My experiments both failed and it is not my kiln. I learned bit pieces create cracks AND bubbles. But not why/ how to fix and no one knows except "make smaller pieces".
These fails are maybe 1/4 of my intended dish so am quite stuck.
Details. - all coefficient 96 glass - should be compatible. - apparently kiln did not fully fire last week so there was a retry. Not sure how/ why heating/ cooling x2. - these to me were design up and down experiments but these were fails on full/ hot. Should it have been tack if different glass - just did not want the ridges with tack...
Please help. I want to understand why there is a fail so not do it again.
submitted by karicare to kilnglass [link] [comments]
These fails are maybe 1/4 of my intended dish so am quite stuck.
Details. - all coefficient 96 glass - should be compatible. - apparently kiln did not fully fire last week so there was a retry. Not sure how/ why heating/ cooling x2. - these to me were design up and down experiments but these were fails on full/ hot. Should it have been tack if different glass - just did not want the ridges with tack...
Please help. I want to understand why there is a fail so not do it again.
2024.05.18 21:20 cryptonewb24 Everyone needs to read this. Info on todays battle!!
Everyone needs to read this. Info on todays battle!!
Seen this some Where else Not me. Not my post. Just trying to spread this information. Vote this up so everyone can see it!!!!!!
From another post (spread it around):
Are you asking yourself: "what now?" Here's an answer in "ape speak" for what we are waiting for. Please like and comment so others can see this post.
Okay so we held out with FFIE and ended the week nearly 2300% above what it was last week. This by itself is an amazing feat which accomplished 2 things:
We kept FFIE above 1 dollar, so it stays listed on NASDAQ (until it drops to 0.10 per share for 30 days which isn't likely for quite a while).
We made intentions for a short sale known to those who were betting it would be delisted, and eventually drop in price.
So what happens next?
Well, now the hedge funds have a decision to make:
They can cut their losses, and buy up the shares at current market value (this is the beginning of a cascade where we all get rich). Essentially, any share that a hedge fund purchases to mitigate their losses will increase the value of our shares.
They can continue to hold their shorted stock "loans" and hope the market drops again next week. If this is the case, we will need to continue to hold our shares until they crack (they pay a lot of money for each day they continue to short)
As of 1 h before market close, there were still 36 million shares being shorted.
What does this mean? It means that because Hedges believe our efforts are short lived, they didn't cancel their shorts and buy back their shorted stocks.
They are pretty much betting that the "meme" will die down soon and they can buy back their shorted stocks at a much lower price than it is right now.
Say, for example, the flame dies out, and people begin selling because they are scared or burnt out, and the share price on Monday (or aftermarket today) drops, they will be able to cover their shorts at a MUCH lower price.
This DOES NOT mean that the stock still wont jump up. But it does mean that it will jump up much less than it would've had we held out at 1 dollar. The higher the price per share, the more it will jump when the hedge funds are forced to buy back their shorts.
In the end, we only need to hold out long enough for the fees that they pay to become more expensive than it would be to just buy back their shares. Either way, they bleed. But one way, we take their money and get very wealthy.
Once one hedge fund cracks, and covers their shorts by purchasing shares, all of them will follow as it will become too expensive for all the hedge funds to hold out. This creates a "parabolic curve" as many have likely heard on various posts. Once the first hedge fund folds, this becomes officially known as a "squeeze." We hold until eventually all the hedge funds are either bankrupt (for not paying back their shorts), which will then be covered by the federal government, or until they all take MASSIVE losses and buy back their shorts.
Now, as for today, many people likely sold at peak, or once they started seeing red. Especially those who have never experienced a squeeze before (I was there in 2021 and sold out of fear). If this fits your description, please read the following:
The drop today was a maneuver known as a "SHORT LADDER."
This is a technique used by hedge funds to attempt to squash a short squeeze, and bring the price down of the stock. This is the hedge funds attempting to break you, using psychological warfare. Heres how they do it:
Step 1: They increase the share price (usually very quickly) to excite retail investors and make them think what we are doing is working. We saw this today starting about 1h after market opened this morning bringing price from 2.69 up to 3.87.
Step 2: Quickly sell every stock they bought to bring down the price to what it was before. This began approximately 2 hours after market opened today.
Now theoretically, this should only bring down the price to what it was before they bought right? Well with retail squeezers (us dumb apes), you see the shares dropping and start selling your shares in the hopes that you can still walk away with some earnings if you do it quickly enough. This is where they win.
If we all hold, the day ends at 2.69. But instead we ended at about 1.00. Meaning their ladder attack worked so well, that you monkeys got scared and sold your shares. Many of us (myself included) held out to give us another try next week and keep the flame alive.
Step 3: The hedge fund bears will try again, and again, and again (to look like a downwards staircase on the graph, hence the term "ladder") to make the fear worse, and worse, and worse, until there's nothing left and they can get away with shorting a company with very minimal losses.
Our solution, is to mimic exactly what DFV (AKA roaringkitty) did in 2021 with GameStop. We simply hold our shares. Will it put more pressure and make the spike come quicker if we buy more shares? Of course. But the reality is, at 2300% over what they shorted at, if we just even hold where we are at, eventually a hedge fund will fold and our shares will skyrocket.
Now to answer the big ticket question: When will we sell? The answer is as follows: after hedge funds crack, we will see the number of shorted shares decline dramatically. You cant base it off of the price of the share because they can manipulate those numbers to make it LOOK very promising.
Heres the link where you can check FFIE shorted shares numbers: https://fintel.io/ss/us/ffie
Processing img szhi9vxg221d1...
As of right now, the exact number is 36, 342,623. It has hardly changed since we began our squeeze. Once this number begins dropping, we broke a hedge fund and the cascade has begun.
The only risk at this point, is if we sell. We will be our own worst enemies. They will use tricks to make us sell. They will manipulate us. They will flood media with articles describing how we failed. They will use every tool in their power to scare us. But in the end, if we HOLD OUR GOD DAMN SHARES, they cant win.
There will be red days. There will be shutdowns of subreddits (like wallstreetbets back in 2021). There will be news articles. (like the hundreds already published demeaning us). There might even be threats of legal action (like they did to DFV). However, short squeezes are 100% legal, and will make us rich + make billionaire cheaters bleed.
Good luck fellow FFIE advocates. Buy at the dips to get back in. Hold your shares to ensure profits. And no matter what, remember,
APES. TOGETHER. STRONG.
submitted by cryptonewb24 to FFIE [link] [comments]
Seen this some Where else Not me. Not my post. Just trying to spread this information. Vote this up so everyone can see it!!!!!!
From another post (spread it around):
Are you asking yourself: "what now?" Here's an answer in "ape speak" for what we are waiting for. Please like and comment so others can see this post.
Okay so we held out with FFIE and ended the week nearly 2300% above what it was last week. This by itself is an amazing feat which accomplished 2 things:
We kept FFIE above 1 dollar, so it stays listed on NASDAQ (until it drops to 0.10 per share for 30 days which isn't likely for quite a while).
We made intentions for a short sale known to those who were betting it would be delisted, and eventually drop in price.
So what happens next?
Well, now the hedge funds have a decision to make:
They can cut their losses, and buy up the shares at current market value (this is the beginning of a cascade where we all get rich). Essentially, any share that a hedge fund purchases to mitigate their losses will increase the value of our shares.
They can continue to hold their shorted stock "loans" and hope the market drops again next week. If this is the case, we will need to continue to hold our shares until they crack (they pay a lot of money for each day they continue to short)
As of 1 h before market close, there were still 36 million shares being shorted.
What does this mean? It means that because Hedges believe our efforts are short lived, they didn't cancel their shorts and buy back their shorted stocks.
They are pretty much betting that the "meme" will die down soon and they can buy back their shorted stocks at a much lower price than it is right now.
Say, for example, the flame dies out, and people begin selling because they are scared or burnt out, and the share price on Monday (or aftermarket today) drops, they will be able to cover their shorts at a MUCH lower price.
This DOES NOT mean that the stock still wont jump up. But it does mean that it will jump up much less than it would've had we held out at 1 dollar. The higher the price per share, the more it will jump when the hedge funds are forced to buy back their shorts.
In the end, we only need to hold out long enough for the fees that they pay to become more expensive than it would be to just buy back their shares. Either way, they bleed. But one way, we take their money and get very wealthy.
Once one hedge fund cracks, and covers their shorts by purchasing shares, all of them will follow as it will become too expensive for all the hedge funds to hold out. This creates a "parabolic curve" as many have likely heard on various posts. Once the first hedge fund folds, this becomes officially known as a "squeeze." We hold until eventually all the hedge funds are either bankrupt (for not paying back their shorts), which will then be covered by the federal government, or until they all take MASSIVE losses and buy back their shorts.
Now, as for today, many people likely sold at peak, or once they started seeing red. Especially those who have never experienced a squeeze before (I was there in 2021 and sold out of fear). If this fits your description, please read the following:
The drop today was a maneuver known as a "SHORT LADDER."
This is a technique used by hedge funds to attempt to squash a short squeeze, and bring the price down of the stock. This is the hedge funds attempting to break you, using psychological warfare. Heres how they do it:
Step 1: They increase the share price (usually very quickly) to excite retail investors and make them think what we are doing is working. We saw this today starting about 1h after market opened this morning bringing price from 2.69 up to 3.87.
Step 2: Quickly sell every stock they bought to bring down the price to what it was before. This began approximately 2 hours after market opened today.
Now theoretically, this should only bring down the price to what it was before they bought right? Well with retail squeezers (us dumb apes), you see the shares dropping and start selling your shares in the hopes that you can still walk away with some earnings if you do it quickly enough. This is where they win.
If we all hold, the day ends at 2.69. But instead we ended at about 1.00. Meaning their ladder attack worked so well, that you monkeys got scared and sold your shares. Many of us (myself included) held out to give us another try next week and keep the flame alive.
Step 3: The hedge fund bears will try again, and again, and again (to look like a downwards staircase on the graph, hence the term "ladder") to make the fear worse, and worse, and worse, until there's nothing left and they can get away with shorting a company with very minimal losses.
Our solution, is to mimic exactly what DFV (AKA roaringkitty) did in 2021 with GameStop. We simply hold our shares. Will it put more pressure and make the spike come quicker if we buy more shares? Of course. But the reality is, at 2300% over what they shorted at, if we just even hold where we are at, eventually a hedge fund will fold and our shares will skyrocket.
Now to answer the big ticket question: When will we sell? The answer is as follows: after hedge funds crack, we will see the number of shorted shares decline dramatically. You cant base it off of the price of the share because they can manipulate those numbers to make it LOOK very promising.
Heres the link where you can check FFIE shorted shares numbers: https://fintel.io/ss/us/ffie
Processing img szhi9vxg221d1...
As of right now, the exact number is 36, 342,623. It has hardly changed since we began our squeeze. Once this number begins dropping, we broke a hedge fund and the cascade has begun.
The only risk at this point, is if we sell. We will be our own worst enemies. They will use tricks to make us sell. They will manipulate us. They will flood media with articles describing how we failed. They will use every tool in their power to scare us. But in the end, if we HOLD OUR GOD DAMN SHARES, they cant win.
There will be red days. There will be shutdowns of subreddits (like wallstreetbets back in 2021). There will be news articles. (like the hundreds already published demeaning us). There might even be threats of legal action (like they did to DFV). However, short squeezes are 100% legal, and will make us rich + make billionaire cheaters bleed.
Good luck fellow FFIE advocates. Buy at the dips to get back in. Hold your shares to ensure profits. And no matter what, remember,
APES. TOGETHER. STRONG.
2024.05.18 21:18 ApprehensiveCap6525 Earth is a Lost Colony (28)
A/N: yeah I changed up the Alliance admiral's name from Shepard Adama to Sheparda Dama (so creative i know) because the old one was going to fuck me over badly at some point. It would be like trying to make a legitimate, serious fantasy novel with a wizard named Albus Gandalf. I was NOT cooking when I came up with that shit.
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It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
She would make the Neldian Armada burn, and they had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
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submitted by ApprehensiveCap6525 to HFY [link] [comments]
It was said that no plan ever survived contact with the enemy. That, at least in the case of Marcus Wayne’s infiltration of Neldia, was proven entirely true.
His ship, the Peacemaker, had undergone an extensive refit before its jump to Neldia to both modify its sensor signature and repair its failing Aegis barrier. The first objective succeeded. The second did not.
One day later, leaving the derelict Ultimate Vigil behind in deep space, the United Human Alliance courier ship Winged Deliverance logged a real space entry at the edge of the Neldia system. Its crew, having spent their waking hours plagued by hallucinations and enduring horrible nightmares as they slept, found this shift very welcome. The worst, though they could hardly believe it, was still yet to come.
“The Neldian fleet is mustering for war,” rumbled the man who had once held the title and security codes of an Alliance sector admiral. Now, he was a traitor to his homeland. “Security will be high.”
“No need to worry, Admiral,” said Marcus Wayne. “Your code will get us through.” It would not.
It took two hours for the Peacemaker, disguised as the Winged Deliverance, to be challenged by the Neldian Armada. “Transmit clearance code,” said an automated voice. Marcus took out a data disc with the admiral's clearance code on it.
“Hold,” said Terris. She was clad in black, her active camouflage offline to save battery, and she had been sitting at the passive sensor console for the past three hours. “Look at this.” A news broadcast popped up in front of Marcus Wayne and his officers. Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama, or at least he was once a sector admiral, had been tried and convicted of high treason.
“It was a secret trial,” Dama said, still in shock at the revelation. “I had no knowledge of this.”
“Well, that tracks, but what do we do now? What code gets us through?”
“Transmit clearance code,” the voice said again, “or adjust course.”
Dama thought for a moment. “Change course,” he said. “We’re not getting through.”
They did. A great sense of defeat took hold in the hearts of the crew. They would never reach the Neldian hypercom. Sheparda Dama, who would have gladly given his life in defense of humankind, would never get the chance to be the man who broke their chains.
The Peacemaker was halfway out of the Neldia system before Terris spoke again. “Hold it,” she said. “I have an idea.”
That was why she had been placed where she was. Clad in an airtight stealth suit. Inside a hollowed-out asteroid. On a ballistic journey to the heart of Neldian space. It was the most insane idea that Marcus Wayne had ever seen.
But, sometimes, insanity was a symptom of genius.
Terris flew past the Neldian Armada undetected. Many asteroids entered the inner system this way, flung by outer-system prospecting ships to the foundries and shipyards in Neldian orbit, and they were thrown and caught so frequently that only the most cursory of inspections was put upon each one. Terris passed the Alliance fleet entirely undetected.
Terris’ chameleon suit could mimic the sensor return of the precious metals it was buried in, at least enough to fool a probing scan, and the cuts made by Protectoral engineers had been so precise that Terris had fit inside there with barely a centimeter of space to spare. She was effectively entombed inside sixty meters of solid rock.
Interstellar espionage was not a job for the claustrophobic.
Finally, after days of waiting, the signal came. She was in range. A mental command triggered a series of shaped charges in the rock above her, if such directions existed in microgravity, and forty pea-sized explosives blasted a circular tunnel all the way to the asteroid surface. If just one of them had failed, that rock might have been her tomb.
Terris tried not to think about that as she began climbing her way out. A brief burst from her suit’s EVA thrusters was enough to start her on her way, and the tunnel out was wide enough for her to use her arms and legs to speed things up. Finally, after too long a wait, Terris saw the Neldian sun for the very first time.
There was fire in the distance. Comm chatter on every band. Warships burning hard for the outer system. The Coalition fleet was here.
She zoomed in, far more than she had ever had to before, and she could pick out the faintest flashes of blue as warships exploded in the black. A brief crawl around the asteroid, which also helped to warm up her muscles after days of inactivity, let her discern an attack force engaging the Alliance fleet. After a moment’s hesitation, weighing the risks, Terris activated her passive sensor suite to try and decrypt Alliance military chatter.
Instantly, her sensors were flooded with noise from the defensive bastions. The fleet base at the L5 point was loudest, its comm operators screaming indecipherably at fellow Alliance elements fighting in the black. Neldian orbit, where the hypercom station was, seemed to be the centerpiece of all the communications traffic. The hypercom, unsurprisingly, was being used as a relay for comm traffic all across the system. Terris made a note to hack its server banks for intelligence, and perhaps leave a timed virus or two to shut down the system after she was gone.
Her suit bleeped, alerting her that she was in optimum position to make the leap to the hypercom. She zoomed in on it, a red and spiked thing just like everything else the Alliance made, and calculated the right trajectory to land right on its metal surface.
Trying to jump from a moving asteroid out past Neldia’s rings and hit a hypercom station barely three hundred meters in diameter was like shooting a rifle from a jumbo jet in hopes of hitting a mosquito down on Earth. A nearly impossible shot, even with Coalition computers to help make the jump, and anyone lucky enough to make it would have been better served bankrupting their local casino at the slot machines.
Terris gave a command to her suit, activating a set of ion thrusters to boost her off the asteroid and adjust her course mid-flight. She’d never believed in luck.
She coasted silent and graceful past the particle guns in high orbit, like a majestic swan flying on a summer wind. Their sensor arrays were directed out, past her, to the far distant parts of space where a trillion tons of steel were locked in deadly battle. Terris really did wish she could smile at the moment. She was about to have unrestricted access to the biggest communications relay in the star system, able to send out viruses and receive vital intelligence that could cripple the Alliance fleet if placed in the right hands. Terris, confident as ever, knew they would be.
She would make the Neldian Armada burn, and they had no idea she was even coming.
She reached the hypercom station in just under a day, agonizingly slow for a woman like her, hovering just above its surface to avoid triggering pressure sensors. After that, it was simple enough to get inside. Terris found it almost trivial to bypass the airlock sensor grid and trigger the outer bulkhead to open unnoticed, its report to the command room destroyed before it ever arrived. Entering the station itself was easy after that.
Here, there was gravity. She could not hover like she had on the outside of the station. But here, there were no pressure sensors. She really had no need to hover.
The corridor she found herself in was large enough, though nothing like the expansive halls of a dreadnought, and a patrol of marines in powered suits trundled towards her obliviously. Terris had made the right call not to wear a Phantom powered suit. She ducked into an alcove, the chameleon suit concealing her from even their impressive sensor batteries, and they passed by with no clue at all.
Terris made it to the server banks with ease. Most of the hypercom’s security measures took the form of warships in orbit, clustered tightly around the planet to prevent exactly this scenario from happening, but those warships were off waging war. The station defenses were hopeless now that she was actually inside.
The data was encrypted, and she could neither access it nor copy it without potentially fatal consequences, but she wasn’t there to steal data. A brief, milliseconds-long connection to the primary server was all it took to riddle the entire system with custom-tailored computer viruses. The viruses were self-replicating, rather like an electronic version of the biological ones on Earth. They worked similarly, too, meant to latch onto outgoing communications signals and remain inert for a certain amount of time before activating and wreaking havoc across cyberspace.
The program would be scoured from the net in seconds once it began its assault, but it would cause plenty of chaos before then. And, with another critical transmission being scheduled to send at around that time, Terris knew her mostly-ineffective virus attack would be just enough of a distraction to make sure its message was heard.
Terris planned to leave the station in approximately thirty minutes. Shortly after that, the fireworks would begin. It was going to be beautiful.
She heard footsteps. A maintenance worker, no doubt. It was time for her to go. She disconnected from the server, taking pains to hide her involvement, and snuck out of the server room like a ghost in the night.
Next was the transmission array. This room was better-guarded, its door being flanked by marines, but Terris slipped inside by trailing behind an officer as he entered on some unknown pretext. After that, her daring and sleight of hand made sure Admiral Dama’s pre-recorded propaganda transmission was uploaded to the hypercom transmitter. It came with a set of instructions bearing the Admiralty’s seal, changed to be anonymous, to ensure as many people as possible heard his message.
In just under one standard hour, the United Human Alliance would be shaken to its very core. Terris had just made sure of it.
It took longer than she had expected for the door to open again and give her a chance to slip out. Terris had spent that time quite productively, downloading as many incoming and outgoing messages as she could to the internal hard drive just by her spinal cord. Even if they were encrypted, they’d be useful intelligence once Coalition codebreakers took a crack at them.
After that, it was trivial to slip past marine patrols and escape to the hull of the hypercom station. Terris found her ride, an Alliance warship by the name of Brightest Thunder, holding orbit just near the hypercom station. Admiral Dama, even if he was no longer an admiral, still had connections.
She charged her ion thrusters by tapping into the station reactor, an act which did not go unnoticed, but by then it was too late to respond. She had completed her incursion. The damage had been done. Perhaps if the Alliance acted swiftly and accurately, they could undo it, but Terris was a careful woman. She had covered her tracks well.
Waving one final goodbye to the crew of the hypercom station, Terris triggered her thrust pack and shot off into the ink.
“You must be my passenger.” A man in an Alliance captain’s uniform was waiting for her in the Brightest Thunder’s airlock. He wore a helmet and gloves, hermetically sealed to his airtight outfit, so he felt no effects from the vacuum of space. “I was sent by Sector Admiral Sheparda Dama,” he announced after a period of silence, “To transport you and whatever you may have safely to the Coalition fleet.” Nothing. Apart from the dull thudding of the ship’s railgun batteries, firing missiles at range to ward off a strike force of Coalition ships, the airlock was quiet as a ghost.
“You cannot expect me to endanger my life and the lives of my crew without at least some identification that you are who you claim to be!” Silence. Captain Senar Trevy had been standing in that airlock for three and a half hours, while his ship was tasked with screening Neldia and her eighteen billion inhabitants from harm, and he was just now wondering if he had been talking to a ghost.
“I am,” came a voice. Cold. Sterile. Inhuman. Exactly the kind Trevy expected from the secret spies of his former admiral.
“So you are.” Captain Trevy thought for a moment. He cycled the airlock. If his guest held hostile intent, one steel bulkhead would make no difference. “I’ve been stocking the crew with handpicked men and women since I received word of the operation,” he explained as they walked through the ship’s corridors. The crewmen he passed thought him insane. “I can’t vouch for them all, but the ship as a whole will obey me.” No response. Sometimes, Captain Trevy thought himself insane as well.
“This is my personal quarters,” he told the specter, stepping inside and sealing the door behind him. “I must warn you, for your own safety, it would be best not to leave it. The crew are mostly still Alliance loyalists.” He looked around, paying no heed to the decorated furniture or artificial sky, and finally shrugged and sighed. “Are you even here, still?”
Terris decloaked. She stood between him and the door, winged and cloaked in black like a demon of ancient myth. “I am.”
“You’re a black angel.” Senar Trevy, to his credit, kept his composure well. “A spy for the Ierad Republic.” He questioned her purpose here. They both knew it.
“You weren’t told?”
“I was told an alien would be coming aboard, but…” Trevy shrugged again, as if to say ‘what am I supposed to do?’ “The admiral vouched for you. That much is enough for me.” He also knew he had no choice in the matter. From what he knew about black angels, his ship had been lost the moment she boarded.
“I could have impersonated him,” said Terris, voice a perfect replica of Captain Trevy’s own. Even his own mother could not have told the difference. “And I’m trained to lie.” She was testing him, gauging his reaction to assess his personality. She was good at that.
“I could have you screened for deception,” Trevy countered, pointing up at a pearl-sized camera in the ceiling. Terris made a note that it was disabled. “And I could have had the technology officers vet your transmission.”
“I’m trained to lie well.” Terris sat down on Captain Trevy’s bed, a spartan thing compared to the sleeping quarters of most officers. There were no chairs in the room, so her options were few. She took off her helmet and tried to at least appear relaxed. In reality, she was anything but. “It comes with the job, really.”
“Fair,” Trevy chuckled, feigning calm. “I suppose the question now becomes whether or not you can trust me.”
“It’s a safe gamble.” Terris made a mental calculation. It would take her between thirty and fifty seconds to kill Captain Trevy, take the bridge, and vent the ship. That was a very safe gamble. “Besides, that’s what a peace treaty is.” Trevy looked confused. “A leap of faith. You trust your enemy to back their word, and you trust them to trust you as well. If we can’t get along here, can’t put aside our differences to work toward a common goal, then the Alliance will be right. And I hate it when they’re right.”
“I’m speaking to you now because I know they are wrong.” That came as no surprise to either of them. “You know, I was once a foreman of a labor crew in the munitions factories. The most productive unit in my sector.” That one did come as a surprise. “As a foreman, you get leeway to make certain decisions regarding the… well, I suppose they are slaves, under your command. Food intake and the like.” Captain Trevy looked pained when he brought up such memories. Terris wasn’t convinced that was how he really felt. “They use it to weed out any potential xeno sympathizers from the populace. Of course, at the time, I wasn’t so empathetic.”
“So you were a slave driver, and you beat your slaves to make them work. I hope every one of those shells was sabotaged.” Terris’ voice dripped with disdain. She had almost forgotten the Alliance captain was her enemy.
“No, I showed mercy,” Trevy defended himself. “I was generous.” This made Terris reconsider. Perhaps Senar Trevy could be an ally, if not a friend. “I won’t say I was a good man, but I wasn’t cruel. I was practical. Strong, healthy, well-treated workers are more productive than the beaten sacks of flesh in the other factories. My crew’s output was unmatched.”
“And?” Terris cocked her head inquisitively. For a high-ranking officer in the space navy of a genocidal regime, Senar Trevy really did not seem so bad. To be fair, however, she had set the bar pretty low.
“I was investigated for anti-human activity.” Terris could have predicted that. She almost did, too. “They sent me to the fleet, and my labor crew was reacquainted with the energy whips and pain beams.” There was no carrot for an Alliance labor slave. Only the stick. “Their productivity fell thirty percent in the first two weeks alone.” He sounded almost mournful as he said that. He was not lamenting the loss in productivity.
“You see,” said Trevy, “Hatred is not natural. It has to be caused, sustained, nurtured from the day a man is born until the day he dies.” With that, at least, Terris agreed. “And, as you’re about to see, a nation built around cruelty or prejudice cannot sustain itself. It will have to apply pressure to maintain its flawed status quo, like it did with me, and the pressure will build and build until it cannot build anymore.” He tapped a few buttons on the data disc in his hand. It began projecting an image of the battle for Neldia. He placed it on the bed next to Terris. “Now it’s breaking.”
“I wonder if they’ll find themselves in need of more shells.” Terris knew it wasn’t just shells. Every time a slave driver prioritized hatred over hard work, put cruelty over their quota, or even just bowed their head and obeyed the traditional dogma, they hurt the Alliance. Across nine worlds, with billions of slaves not working as they could have, things started to add up. “You know, for a superior species, your fleet is really getting its ass kicked right now. Might want to work on that.”
Captain Trevy nodded. His data disc beeped. He was needed on the bridge. “Agreed,” he said. “I hope this war ends soon, and to our mutual benefit. I’d hate to face you on the battlefield.” He picked up the data disc and turned to leave.
“Oh, forgot to mention, there’s a virus embedded in the transmissions you’ve received. Self-replicating. Nasty piece of work.” Terris shifted a bit in her seat. “Almost forgot about that.”
“Well, better to know now than when it’s activated,” Trevy smiled. “I’ll have Technology Officer Galdir investigate it.” With that, he left. His duty to the Alliance was nonexistent, but the men and women under his command still needed him. He had waited too long in the stateroom.
Terris, with nothing better to do, got to work on cracking the encryption in the transmissions she had copied. She failed. A transmission from deep in unknown space, sent from a dreadnought at the head of a task force known only as the Deep Expedition Fleet, was the only message she could read. Its contents, while troubling, mattered little at the moment. What was far more crucial, however, was the message Terris could not decipher. The military battle plan of Janus Ora’s personal armada.
The battle plan that, when analyzed on a Republic starship, would reveal its terrible secret too late.
The Coalition fleet was walking into a trap.
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2024.05.18 21:17 Wise_Progress1933 Can anyone give some advice on past trauma?
My mum turned to drugs before I was born. When she had children she stopped taking drugs but slowly turned back to her old habits when my sisters and I were little. My dad was an alcoholic so he didn’t play any part in looking after us. He would drink in the pub as soon as it opened and wouldn’t leave until it closed at night. I would still see him, but it was usually when he would come over to the house that we lived in at the time and fight with my mum. My mum had a boyfriend who was physically and emotionally abusive towards all of us. He was also a drug user, so they would often leave us alone to go out and buy drugs. I can remember him abusing all of us. I have memories of him buying us pet rabbits. Shortly after getting them, he got angry about something and threw them down the stairs, so they passed away. I also remember him running out of the house naked and hiding in the garden from the police. He would hit us and also shout at us for getting scared. We were badly neglected to the point that social services got involved. They tried to help my mum but had no choice but to take us into foster care. We were in foster care for six months until my grandparents won the custody battle, and we got to live with them. During the six months that we lived in care, my mum did not attempt to better herself so that we could go back home to her. Instead, she chose drugs. In 2013, we went to live with my grandparents and have been there ever since. We cut off all contact with my mum, her boyfriend and my dad. They didn’t make any effort to get in touch at all. My dad would send us letters in the post occasionally, but he would also call the home phone when he was drunk and shout abuse at us on the phone. We started a new primary school and everything was going well until I was watching a film at home with both of my sisters. My older sister is eighteen months older than me and my younger sister is two years younger than me. My younger sister wasn’t involved as much in the situation. In the film, a couple were trying for a baby. In one of the scenes, they were rolling around on a bed kissing each other. We hadn’t seen anything like it before, and we were curious about what they were doing and why they were doing it. We made up a game where we would act out what they were doing in the film. My older sister and I would kiss each other. I can remember her touching me inappropriately once and also getting me to touch her back. The kissing turned into acting out having sex by “humping” each other because it felt good. It was innocent curiosity, we would choose who was going to play the “boy” and who was going to play the “girl” and would make up different storylines. I was around 8–11 years old when this happened. Most of the time we had our clothes on, but sometimes we didn’t. I didn’t understand sex at all when this was happening. I can remember hitting puberty at a young age and when I got my period I thought I was dying because I didn’t know what it was. I can’t remember any of this happening regularly. I think it just happened occasionally , but I know it happened a handful of times with both my siblings as well. I don’t think I truly understood that this behavior was wrong at the time, because I had lots of raging hormones, and I was just a traumatized child. I recently told my family about what happened and they’ve been so helpful. I’m slowly starting to rebuild a bond with my sister and I’ve realized that I can’t blame her for what happened because it wasn’t her fault. I’ve also struggled with severe OCD and anxiety for as long as I can remember. When I was little, I would have repetitive rituals that I would perform. I would be terrified of leaving my room in case anything bad happened so I went to the toilet at the end of my bed. I thought that bad things would happen to me if I didn’t do things a certain way and spent a lot of my time worrying. I left primary school and started secondary school, but I struggled to keep friends and always found myself feeling left out. I can remember my dad coming to visit on birthdays and Christmas, but when we went into lockdown because of coronavirus, I found out that he had cancer. We went to visit him and say goodbye. When we did this, I saw my mum for the first time in years. On Christmas Eve 2020, a few minutes from midnight she phoned to say that my dad had passed away. I miss him a lot, but he brought my mum back into my life. I slowly started seeing my mum more often and things were going well until she got me drunk one night and took me out to buy drugs with her. I can remember sitting on the sofa with her and her encouraging me to smoke crack cocaine. I was so drunk that I did it. The next day, when I woke up, I knew that she hadn’t changed. I had £2000 savings in my account which she knew about so she would “borrow” the money for gas, electricity and food. I knew it was all for drugs and I didn’t always get the money back. She mostly just smokes weed now, but she slips up sometimes. My mental health is slowly improving but everything that I’ve just written down bothers me a lot. I can’t change the past no matter how much I want to so I just need to move forward and be more positive.
submitted by Wise_Progress1933 to askatherapist [link] [comments]
2024.05.18 21:16 Wise_Progress1933 Can anyone give some advice on past trauma?
My mum turned to drugs before I was born. When she had children she stopped taking drugs but slowly turned back to her old habits when my sisters and I were little. My dad was an alcoholic so he didn’t play any part in looking after us. He would drink in the pub as soon as it opened and wouldn’t leave until it closed at night. I would still see him, but it was usually when he would come over to the house that we lived in at the time and fight with my mum. My mum had a boyfriend who was physically and emotionally abusive towards all of us. He was also a drug user, so they would often leave us alone to go out and buy drugs. I can remember him abusing all of us. I have memories of him buying us pet rabbits. Shortly after getting them, he got angry about something and threw them down the stairs, so they passed away. I also remember him running out of the house naked and hiding in the garden from the police. He would hit us and also shout at us for getting scared. We were badly neglected to the point that social services got involved. They tried to help my mum but had no choice but to take us into foster care. We were in foster care for six months until my grandparents won the custody battle, and we got to live with them. During the six months that we lived in care, my mum did not attempt to better herself so that we could go back home to her. Instead, she chose drugs. In 2013, we went to live with my grandparents and have been there ever since. We cut off all contact with my mum, her boyfriend and my dad. They didn’t make any effort to get in touch at all. My dad would send us letters in the post occasionally, but he would also call the home phone when he was drunk and shout abuse at us on the phone. We started a new primary school and everything was going well until I was watching a film at home with both of my sisters. My older sister is eighteen months older than me and my younger sister is two years younger than me. My younger sister wasn’t involved as much in the situation. In the film, a couple were trying for a baby. In one of the scenes, they were rolling around on a bed kissing each other. We hadn’t seen anything like it before, and we were curious about what they were doing and why they were doing it. We made up a game where we would act out what they were doing in the film. My older sister and I would kiss each other. I can remember her touching me inappropriately once and also getting me to touch her back. The kissing turned into acting out having sex by “humping” each other because it felt good. It was innocent curiosity, we would choose who was going to play the “boy” and who was going to play the “girl” and would make up different storylines. I was around 8–11 years old when this happened. Most of the time we had our clothes on, but sometimes we didn’t. I didn’t understand sex at all when this was happening. I can remember hitting puberty at a young age and when I got my period I thought I was dying because I didn’t know what it was. I can’t remember any of this happening regularly. I think it just happened occasionally , but I know it happened a handful of times with both my siblings as well. I don’t think I truly understood that this behavior was wrong at the time, because I had lots of raging hormones, and I was just a traumatized child. I recently told my family about what happened and they’ve been so helpful. I’m slowly starting to rebuild a bond with my sister and I’ve realized that I can’t blame her for what happened because it wasn’t her fault. I’ve also struggled with severe OCD and anxiety for as long as I can remember. When I was little, I would have repetitive rituals that I would perform. I would be terrified of leaving my room in case anything bad happened so I went to the toilet at the end of my bed. I thought that bad things would happen to me if I didn’t do things a certain way and spent a lot of my time worrying. I left primary school and started secondary school, but I struggled to keep friends and always found myself feeling left out. I can remember my dad coming to visit on birthdays and Christmas, but when we went into lockdown because of coronavirus, I found out that he had cancer. We went to visit him and say goodbye. When we did this, I saw my mum for the first time in years. On Christmas Eve 2020, a few minutes from midnight she phoned to say that my dad had passed away. I miss him a lot, but he brought my mum back into my life. I slowly started seeing my mum more often and things were going well until she got me drunk one night and took me out to buy drugs with her. I can remember sitting on the sofa with her and her encouraging me to smoke crack cocaine. I was so drunk that I did it. The next day, when I woke up, I knew that she hadn’t changed. I had £2000 savings in my account which she knew about so she would “borrow” the money for gas, electricity and food. I knew it was all for drugs and I didn’t always get the money back. She mostly just smokes weed now, but she slips up sometimes. My mental health is slowly improving but everything that I’ve just written down bothers me a lot. I can’t change the past no matter how much I want to so I just need to move forward and be more positive.
submitted by Wise_Progress1933 to MentalHealthSupport [link] [comments]