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Project Octopath Traveler 3: Oukirii the Hunter, Chapter 2

2024.06.02 07:09 TheAbsoluteBread Project Octopath Traveler 3: Oukirii the Hunter, Chapter 2

Hey Everyone! I came to realize pretty quickly that I did not have as much of this chapter planned out as I thought I did. Which explains why it took a little long to come out, but in the end I managed to create something that I was satisfied with. You may notice one key change, being that Oukirii’s Companion no longer has a defined name! You’re free to name it whatever you wish.
(Completed Chapter 2s: Thearnt, Taland, Pascal, Harmony, Crowson, Asherah, Oukirii)
Next Chapter 2: Orlando the Starseer
Oukirii the Hunter, Chapter 2: Recommended Level 26
——————
(The Journey So Far…)
Events along Oukirii’s first hunt created damage in her family.
Her father came to realize that she had no intention of become a strong hunter on her own.
Even if she knew that, Oukirii couldn’t answer the question “Then what do you want to be?”
One evening, she had a dream of world’s destruction. A prophet came by the following day and told her of the beasts she saw that night.
Oukirii volunteered to hunt the beasts down, in hopes that this journey would reveal her true purpose to her…
Oukirii and Her Companion set foot in Evercold. The first thing Oukirii notes is the cold air of the snowy region. “You alright boy?” She crouches down and pets her companion on the head. It makes a joyful cry. “Hansel should be around here right?” Oukirii continues “He probably knows where we should go to look for Snow Gem!”
She takes a few steps forward, “This town is— very different from Oakbright…” Oukirii looks down. “Alright, Let’s go find Hansel!”
You’d be prompted to look for Hansel
“Heave Ho Suzie!” Someone’s voice calls out. Blanche, the owner of the Beast Ranch would be pulling on a large wagon filled with heavy crates. She’d look over at Oukirii.
(Blanche’s Dialogue will change depending on if you’ve visited the ranch prior. “You look familiar”/”Who’re you? A hunter?”)
Blanche would go on to explain that she’s here to pick up supplies. She notices Oukirii’s companion and hands her a bag of food before grabbing onto the wagon again. Suzie would give Oukirii a nod as they leave.
As Oukirii puts away the bag, She notices Hansel standing near the path that Blanche and Suzie went along. Oukirii runs over to Hansel and tells him that she’s ready to take on Snow Gem.
Hansel is glad to hear it. He would tell Oukirii that this beast has been terrorizing the citizens of Evercold for a long time. “Hunting Snow Gem is not only important for our own sun-saving mission. It’s for the relief of all these people right here.”
“Well I’ll have to do my best then!”
“I believe in you Oukirii. I really do.”
Oukirii would walk away from Hansel and you’d head further into town. Oukirii suddenly hears the sound of someone shouting “No, Not again!” Her companion points his nose in the direction of the shouting and a curious Oukirii runs over to find a girl standing outside of her home. She asks if something’s wrong and the girl tells her that she lost a book she borrowed from the town’s library.
Oukirii volunteers to help look, the girl just laughs loudly “It’s nowhere I can find, best of luck to you kid!”
“Hey!” Oukirii shouts. “I’ll find that book… Just you wait…”
Before leaving, she asks for the girl’s name. She answers “Valerie, why do you need to know?” Oukirii says that it’s just in case she wrote her name in the book. “Suppose I– Fair point?” Valerie responds.
You’d Entreat Valerie’s Book from a customer by Evercold’s Night Market.
Oukirii returns to Valerie and hands her the book. Valerie acts surprised as she flips through the pages. She sighs and puts the book away, saying she needs a tea break, she invites Oukirii to join. Sheaccepts and the two would enter Valerie’s home.
Oukirii’s companion lies down on the floor. Valerie apologizes for acting like she did, and Oukirii forgives her immediately. She notices some tools on the wall and asks what those are for. Valerie says those are for her toolsmithing job. However, she wonders if that job is something even worth continuing. “Just doesn’t feel like my ‘right thing’.”
Oukirii gets to thinking. Being so young, she doesn’t fully understand what Valerie is saying. But she gets a better understanding by connecting it to finding her own purpose. It's hard to tell if she did the “right thing” by fleeing to complete this mission…
A Flashback occurs, A young Oukirii sits waiting in the living room while her mother and father try to make her look her best. The door opens, and somebody walks inside. Antànor Solana, Oukirii’s Grandfather. Dimitrius happily greets him, Antànor doesn’t say anything, But does the same to his son. He shakes Catalina’s hand and pats Oukirii on the head while facing away from her. He and Dimitrius walk forward, chatting about their hunts. Oukirii tries to shout something to her grandfather, but he doesn’t hear her…
After she and Valerie finish talking, Oukirii says that she’s off to hunt a beast. She describes Snow Gem to Valerie, who says “I’ve never heard of anything like that before…” Valerie tells Oukirii to wait up and grabs a hatchet from the wall, she says that she’ll be coming to hunt this thing too. She won’t let someone like her fight a beast unsupervised.
Road to Deepshiver Cave, Danger Level 26
As Oukirii and Valerie walk, The ground begins to shake. They stop and stand still, Valerie asks “Did you feel that?” Oukirii wonders if the rumbling came from Snow Gem. Suddenly, the ground cracks underneath them. Sending Oukirii and her companion falling underground.
Oukirii is lying on the ground in a patch of snow. Her companion tries to wake her, Oukirii jolts up and looks around. “Thank the sun! Where’s Valerie?” Oukirii stands up after petting her companion. “This… Snow Gem… It must be…” She shakes her head.
Deepshiver Cave, Danger Level 27
Further into the cave, Oukirii would run into Valerie. Who is revealed to have taken the normal way in. Slightly further to the end of the tunnels, They get their first look at the “Snow Gem” beast. A large quadruped creature with blank eyes and a strong shell covered in ice and snow. Oukirii is shaken at the sight of it. Valerie calls out “What is that thing!?”
“Stand back Valerie!” Oukirii and her companion step up, ready to confront the beast. “This is what I was made for… I won’t let you bring destruction to this world! Come on Snow Gem– It’s all over now!!”
BOSS: Snowradillo
(Boost Dialogue: “Here goes nothing!”)
Valerie dashes in and finishes off the beast with a large chop. It creates a strong wind as it fades away into nothing… “We did it!” Oukirii quietly says “That’s one down…” Valerie asks if Oukirii is alright, She says that she doesn’t know and explains that “I… I wish I could have known more about it. They say a hunter is supposed to read the hearts of all creatures they hunt. Is there something wrong with me?”
“Read the heart of it or not, you hunted that thing like a champion! Maybe you’re not looking in the right place kid, you could consider the idea of being a traveling hunter…”
“A traveling hunter?” Oukirii asks. She gives it some thought, before her companion reminds them that they need to head back to the town.
In Evercold, Oukirii and Valerie run into Hansel again. Oukirii tells him of the good news, and asks “Does it matter now if we take down the other two? That dream had three of them together, if one is gone then–”
“It doesn’t work that way Oukirii…” Hansel replies “Destruction could still spell even if only one was still around… Our mission was to take down all three. The next target will be Red Spirit, I’ve found this creature to be in Redwater.”
Oukirii accepts to continue the mission and keep seeking her purpose. She and her companion excitedly leave town towards the next adventure.
Hansel and Valerie watch as they leave. Valerie says “I hope she finds her purpose out there. But there’s something I don’t quite understand. She seems like she doesn’t want to be strong. But then, why accept a mission that requires her to fight powerful monsters?”
“She wants to prove herself capable, and it’s a job only she can do. I’m grateful that she did accept, Otherwise the fate of the world might still be uncertain…”
(Ending Text)
Oukirii succeeds in her hunting of the first beast. Snowradillo of Evercold.
Two monsters remain as a threat to the world.
She keeps her heart optimistic, yet still finds herself troubled. With no definite answer to the question of her purpose…
With the guidance of the sun, Oukirii sets out to Redwater.
And prepares for a confrontation with Red Spirit…
——————
Oukirii the Hunter: Chapter 2, End.
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2024.06.02 06:46 mansplanar 20 Hinge Prompts to Help You Get a Response

I think “my simple pleasure” is the best prompt. If used right it’s a good way to say things you like. For example mine was- thrift stores, new tattoos, Philly sports and R&B. Really depends how you write it
As a woman, I’d advise men not to use “I won’t shut up about,” as a prompt.
Woman constantly complain about men dominating verbal conversations. Saying you “won’t shut up about…” just reinforces that you might be one of those guys.
I think if you actually have a good travel story, that prompt can work. That is to say, I think that the "tiers" really fluctuate a lot from person to person, and your qualifiers ("this works if you're funny") are kind of proof of that.
For example, I have two pretty good stories about coming face to face with sharks, and one less good story about coming face to face with a shark. I think that the shark thing is just crazy enough that it intrigues most people. But you have to have a genuinely good story for it to work.
Also, someone else said they need to get rid of prompts - I disagree. It's really annoying if you try a new prompt and then can't go back to your old one.
I think “my idea of a good Sunday” is a great prompt bc if guys include it and they say “church,” I’m 95% more likely to like them.
THERE'S AN ART to curating your Hinge profile. If you're looking for quality matches, don't be the guy with a barren profile who sends a mildly-enthused "hey, how's it going" to every potential partner. Hinge offers a feature called prompts: conversation starters that let you show yourself off and spark more substantive conversations—and you should use them to your advantage.
Choosing the right Hinge prompts—and writing good answers those prompts—will help you scan the many fish in the sea to find those most suited for you. It might sound like a daunting task to craft the perfect profile, but at least you're an expert in the subject matter: you.
Best Practices for Crafting Your Hinge Prompts
Having an air of mystery may seem hot in movies, but it's just a waste of time in real life—especially when it comes to dating apps, where determining what's real and what's not is so much more difficult than it is in person. "Being coy may seem like a safer way to interact on apps, but it doesn't yield fruitful results," Engle says. (No one's swiping right on a bio that says "I suck at writing bios.")
So nix those coy answers and get specific when you fill out your Hinge prompts. The more specific you get, the likelier you are to match with people that are similar to you. That means you'll really have to think about yourself and want you want.
Be specific when discussing what you're looking for, too. Vagueness won't help narrow your options. For example, don't just say you're looking for "someone with a lot of personality" (is anyone not looking for someone with a personality?); say you're looking for "someone with a lot of energy, and who enjoys being active and trying new things" (or whatever that personality looks like to you). Be honest, both with yourself and in your profile. Don't say you're "super into the gym" because you want someone with a six-pack, when in reality you haven't been to gym in six months and have no intention of starting again.
Add a variety of prompts to paint a full picture of yourself. If all of your prompts are jokes, that doesn't reveal a ton about you. But, if all your prompts are serious, you might come off as a little intense—and you won't be revealing much about your day-to-day life.
The 20 Best Hinge Prompts to Help You Get You a Response
Here are 20 Hinge prompts to get you off the apps and into real relationships.
I'll pick the topic if you start the conversation...
Starting a conversation isn't easy, and with this prompt, you're meeting them halfway. It creates less of a barrier to entry for the person doing the messaging. Pick a topic you're interested in or care about, and "be as specific as possible," Engle says.
What you can say:
The best bands to come out of the 90's.
The worst holiday traditions.
The best and worst concerts you've seen.
The last time I cried happy tears was...
"Consider the things that really make you YOU," Engle says. Mentioning things you care about "will allow you to engage with like-minded people who share similar likes and interests."
What you can say:
When they showed Jason Kelce ripping his shirt off at Travis's touchdown against the Bills.
At the closing scene of All of Us Strangers.
When I PR'ed my back squat (the boys didn't see).
The one thing I'd love to know about you is...
It's always nice to see someone on a dating app be interested in you, even if they haven't seen you yet. Put that energy out there with this prompt. People might feel more comfortable responding when it's something about them, since they know themselves the best. Find a topic that's important to you, and let your potential match take it from there.
What you can say:
What would you do for a living if money weren't a factor?
What's your go-to coffee shop order?
Were you a Nickelodeon or Disney kid?
Let's make sure we're on the same page about...
The great thing about this prompt is you can make your answer as lighthearted or as serious as you want. If you have something that's a deal-breaker for you (like wanting an open relationship), you can insert that here. It also works if you have something a little less serious that still plays a role in your life (like putting pineapple on pizza) and you want to get that out there.
What you can say:
Not wanting kids.
The ending of Game of Thrones.
The shape of Earth.
This year, I really want to...
This prompt is an excellent way to open up potential first date options, or show how you want to work on yourself in this upcoming year. Want to get more creative, more fit, or try something new? Maybe someone out there wants to do the same—and wants a partner to do it with.
What you can say:
Try a ceramics class.
Drink less.
Find the best burger in town.
I'm looking for...
If you already know what you're looking for, you may as well lay it all out there. That being said, don't nit-pick or be judgmental in your answer. Don't be too vague either, or you won't narrow down your options for people best suited to you.
What you can say:
Someone who will get along with my family.
Someone comfortable with being in an open relationship.
A good time, not a long time.
My simple pleasures...
You're probably looking for someone with similar interests as you (at least, we hope you are). "Prompts serve as conversation starters, so consider your interests, hobbies, and skills and lead with those," Engle says. Odds are someone shares them with you.
What you can say:
The smell of fresh cut grass.
When Debbie from marketing brings in banana bread.
Open sunroofs.
I go crazy for...
Another easy way into talking about the things you like—but make sure it's something you can carry conversation on. "Focus on answers that you can go into detail on," Engle says. "Talk about interests, hobbies, and goals outside of romantic relationships to give potential partners a full picture of the person you are."
What you can say:
Planning my next trip before the one I'm on has even ended.
Barry Keoghan. Obviously.
Reruns of Pimp My Ride.

You should leave a comment if...

This is another way to discuss what's important to you, with a call to action for the other person. You can pull in your hobbies, hopes for the future, or interests—the world is your oyster here. But remember: specifics, specifics, specifics (don't just put down "you like sports").

What you can say:

A shower thought I recently had...

Balance your prompts by throwing in a lighter option here and there. A shower thought is a great way to show off your humor and how your mind works. Get creative.

What you can say:

Green flags I look for...

Get a little deeper into what you're looking for in your person by hinting at characteristics you want to see in someone. It's better to be open and honest about what you're looking for in a potential partner then have to do the dirty work of talking to a bunch of people only to find out you don't actually see a future with them.

What you can say:

We're the same type of weird if...

Have some nuance interests that you want to get out there? Here's your chance.

What you can say:

I hype myself up by...
Everyone gets nervous when it comes to online dating. Confidence is hot, but most of us aren't 100-percent confident all of the time, and that's okay. This shows you're nervous, too, but can hype yourself up when need be.

What you can say:

I feel most supported when...

Dating app prompts aren't all about making the right joke or being overly funny. You'll want to layer in some real prompts, too, to show potential partners you can get deep. This prompt is a great way to do that without getting too vulnerable before you're ready. Plus, it reveals a little bit about what you want out of a relationship.

What you can say:

A fun fact about me is...

An oldie but a goodie. To mix in a lighthearted prompt with some deeper ones, stick with what you know and toss in your go-to fun fact from freshman seminar in college. Don't over think the "fun" part—just pick something you think is unique about yourself!

What you can say:

Teach me something about...

Want to learn something new and find a partner at the same time? This is also a great way to show an interest in potential partners by making your answer something related to them. Like we said, people are always more comfortable talking about themselves because it's the one thing they know everything about. People love talking about their passions... maybe someone out there has the same one as you. This is a great way to find out.

What you can say:

I know the best spot in town for...

Hate the phase of online dating where you message back and forth forever and never actually get to a first date? Us, too. This prompt can help speed up that process by getting you out of the app, and meeting in person. Suggest something you'd want to do for a first date.
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What you can say:

First round is on me if...

Another prompt that gets you out of the app and right into the first date. Plus, you can pose a characteristic you really want to see in a partner: a win-win. PSA though: If it translates, you do actually have to pay for the first round.

What you can say:

My typical Sunday...

This gives a little snippet into your every day life. You're probably looking for someone who lives a similar lifestyle to you (if you're a "sleep until the afternoon every weekend" kind of guy, you're probably not looking for a "6 a.m. half marathon on a Saturday" kind of girl), and this is a great way to give them that insight.

What you can say:

Give me travel tips for...

Have a trip coming up? Hit two birds with one stone: get some travel recommendations and start up a conversation with a potential special someone. It's an easy entry to talking, and you can quickly branch to "well, where else have you traveled to recently?" Even if you just put down your neighborhood—there's nothing like a little stay-cation.You should leave a comment if...
This is another way to discuss what's important to you, with a call to action for the other person. You can pull in your hobbies, hopes for the future, or interests—the world is your oyster here. But remember: specifics, specifics, specifics (don't just put down "you like sports").

What you can say:

A shower thought I recently had...

Balance your prompts by throwing in a lighter option here and there. A shower thought is a great way to show off your humor and how your mind works. Get creative.

What you can say:

Green flags I look for...

Get a little deeper into what you're looking for in your person by hinting at characteristics you want to see in someone. It's better to be open and honest about what you're looking for in a potential partner then have to do the dirty work of talking to a bunch of people only to find out you don't actually see a future with them.

What you can say:

We're the same type of weird if...

Have some nuance interests that you want to get out there? Here's your chance.

What you can say:

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2024.06.02 05:39 VirginCutter AITA for backing out of the family vacation?

Back when my mom was alive, she loved to travel. She bought into these "timeshare points". For those unfamiliar, "points" can be used to purchase time at various resorts around the country, and they renew annually. You also have to pay monthly maintenance fees. Now this isn't a gripe about timeshares being a scam. It's just something my mom bought into and is pertinent to the story.
My mother, had a pretty good job with a lot of vacation time, so throughout the year, Mom would take a friend or relative on these trips. Sometimes she'd even take my dad! Of course after Mom passed, my dad got the points and continued to pay those monthly fees.
Now my dad doesn't like to travel a lot, but he got the idea to blow all the points on as many units as he could get at one of their many resorts for one week out of the year, and he would take with him as many of our relatives as he could. The only expectation is that during the trip, everyone would chip in, and my dad pays for nothing. Considering how much money those maintenance fees are, my dad is being rather generous.
Naturally my dad always invites me to go along, but in the past I usually couldn't go because of work or other schedule conflicts, and to be honest, I really didn't want to go. After his last vacation, several relatives started wheedling me to go on the next one. It's not that they hadn't tried to talk me into it before, but this time they were being more adamant. I caved and said I would. Everyone was happy.
This year's destination is a beach resort. Where do I begin? So I tend to get sun poisoning very easily. No tan, no burn, just straight to blisters. Let me tell you, it's not fun. So maybe there's other things to do? Well, I could always sit at the bar and get drunk, but that doesn't really sound like a way to spend my week either. But hey, I hear the rooms are really nice!
Yeah, about that. So it looks like there's not really enough rooms, so they plan on sticking in a room with two of my adult nephews. They're decent enough guys, but I'm a middle aged man, and just to show how much he cares, my dad bought me an air mattress so I wouldn't have to sleep on the floor. How thoughtful!
I love seeing my relatives during the holidays, but there's a reason I live alone, and after that last little bit of news about their being too few rooms, I backed out, and now it seems like everyone is mad at me. Some, like my dad, are downright pissed and calling me "ungrateful". I kind of expected that, but even if I went, I'd probably be miserable and try to take everyone else with me.
So that's it. I backed out of a family vacation, and now I'm being treated like the bad guy, but AITA?
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2024.06.02 05:38 RealZiobbe I graduated yesterday and near-strangers are more supportive than my parents

Yesterday, I had my graduation ceremony. After years of university with absolutely no help besides occasional rides to the bus stop and, very rarely, to campus, I finally graduated. Here's what my parents have done in the lead-up to graduation and the day after instead of supporting me.
My parents spent months leading up to the graduation freaking out about how I'll get a job, trying to control my hair and clothing (even implying I'm ugly when I choose my own hair and clothing), harassing me to hand out business cards to everyone I meet (especially if the situation would be an immense faux pas), grilling me on if my grades are good, lecturing me relentlessly about how I need to keep in contact with people in my class and it's soooo important and would I like to hear about how my dad got a job through nepotism for the eightieth time, asking me questions they already know the answers to (Yes, I'm still talking to my former classmates. Yes, I know that you worked in the Yukon when you were 18. Yes, I know about your friend who worked in a weather station. Yes, I know you had to move to find a job in the 1980s. Yes, I am aware that it is a possibility I might have to move too. Yes, I know that it's okay to invite people over to the house, you've only "informed" me about a hundred times. Yes, I know that school is important.) Every single thing that they "inform" me about is something I have very clearly expressed that I understand, and is just thinly veiled criticism. But my dad needs to lecture more than he needs oxygen.
Just constant nitpicking, criticism, and nothing I ever did was enough. I couldn't even focus on grades, because they would in their own words "put pressure on" me to do what they wanted. To handle their emotions for them. They're obsessed with the idea that I would have to move to a tiny town or work in a coal mine to find a job, because I'm more highly educated than my dad (who dropped out of university despite having all expenses paid by his father), and because my dad worked in the Yukon for two summers. He will never shut up about that, and he even goes so far as to hold us hostage with implicit threat of a massive tantrum to listen to him tell us the story again and again and again and to show us pictures of the place he worked on Google maps and point to everything he remembers. Sometimes he can go on for half an hour just repeating himself over and over.
Last summer, my parents even went and took action without my knowledge or approval to try and get a job set up for me cleaning up a mine contaminated with arsenic in the middle of nowhere, NWT. They tried to guilt and shame me into it ("What are your plans instead? Do you have another job lined up? Because you need to have a job. You can't sit around all day." This coming almost literally one week into summer vacation after my second-last year of university, when I could be using my energy to find interesting co-ops or explore hobbies or travel, instead dealing with their harassment and obsession with trying to literally trap me in a fucking arsenic mine.) They went on and on, lectured me over and over, implied that I would be embarrassing my grandfather if I didn't go, and so on. Eventually they said "You can go work or get a certification", and I picked the certification, but then they got grumpy anyways, and every week for the entire summer they would ask "Are you still working on the certification?". Of course, dipsh*t. I've told you fifty times how long the program lasts.
They don't care about what I'm learning in class, don't care about my hobbies or interests, only care about my friends as either a means to get backdoored into a job or a "nice French Canadian woman" to have babies with. They don't care if I'm struggling, and are completely unavailable to help in any regard. Any request for help would result in a guilt trip. Even if I actually couldn't eat dinner with the family for one day because I had a test, my father would get raw emotions and I'd have to walk on eggshells for a few days. The one time I mentioned I was having trouble studying, instead of shutting up and no longer ranting in the main floor where I could hear him or turning the TV off, he just dragged a table into the unfurnished boiler room (without asking me) and then told me that I would have to study there. I wasn't allowed to choose not to, because he'd already set it up. Ironically, my anger at him did let me study pretty well for the one day that I was forced there. He tried to keep me there long-term because he thought it was just such a great idea, but I managed to trick him into thinking I didn't need help studying anymore, so I got to study at a desk with a light on it and flooring that wasn't bare cement. Hooray for the most minor victory imaginable.
In the months leading up to graduation, did they care about how hard I was working at my capstone project and offer support? Absolutely not! Did they care about how well my sleep quality was, how many times the cat woke me up because they didn't play with her enough or give her enough attention? Nope! Did they care about how exhausting it was to deal with their constant lectures on the same topics, and to have to give them affirmations ("Yes, you're right, that's right, good job, nice, very tasty, good work, oh really?, neat, that's cool, how'd you make that?, mhm, I agree, you're being reasonable, they're being ridiculous, that's crazy") a hundred times a day? Not even in the slightest!
We spend more time talking about my dad's college friends than about anything I or my brother care about.
Then, leading up to graduation. all I've gotten are the most humiliating, infuriating, insulting messages and lectures from my parents. I get almost daily emails and texts saying "You need to get a job, it's important to look for a job" despite the fact I've told them I am looking probably fifty times. Too cowardly to say it to my face. I've been texted literal links to a Google search for "[degree name] jobs [city]" more than once. Both my parents treat me like I don't listen, when I do. They treat me like I'm lazy, when I've put myself through university with no help even after they lied to me about giving me financial aid and made me out to be a bully demanding more money when all I did was say "alright" and then pay for it myself. They must have sternly given me a talking to about how "I'm not going to pay for university, you know that, right? You need to pay. Don't expect us to pay. Because we paid for your first semesters, you know that, right? We've already paid for enough." thirty times, even after I'd made the final payment. They treat me like I'm stupid when I have expressed understanding before. They treat me like I'm a bully while I always bend over backwards for them, just because I don't play my role as "surrogate mommy but this time I get to tell her what to do" well enough.
It feels like they're almost raising me into a replacement or surrogate parent. Like my dad wants me to be his mom or dad, except this time he gets to be in charge. And my mom wants me to be her mom, except this time when she freaks out or has her deer in headlights look, she'll get someone to step up and take care of everything for her. I distinctly remember having to comfort her even for things she did to me, like tell me that a pair of comfortable shoes I picked out was good and she'd get them, and then immediately scream "take it out, take it out!" after it was scanned at the register. I could not have been older than twelve. And for my dad, he always rants and raves to me exactly like he does to his parents, except without including blame for them sending him to boarding school and instead having tons of old "life updates" like where he worked when he was 18 and what music he liked to listen to in high school, stuff like that. Then he expects me to praise him or be interested like his parents never were (he always tells me that his parents only cared about his car when they called).
So now I graduated. All they had to say in the days coming up to it was to grill me on the time I'd have to be at the venue and the time I was planning to leave the house to get there on time, with a distinct air of "you're too lazy to think of this in advance and too stupid to figure it out without a plan". Of course, I had to answer this question probably five times, because they don't care to ever listen to me. Before the ceremony I got text messages showing they were way more excited about themselves being here than anything relating to me, with multiple messages expressing how they arrived and it was exciting, then they asked me how the atmosphere was and their only reply was a one-word "nice" with no punctuation, because they don't care about me and only ask droll questions to segue into their next bit.
After grad, there was two generic sentences spoken with no emotion about how it was nice I graduated, and then they made a whole song and dance about the amazing gifts they got me. It was a degree frame I picked out myself that my dad presented as new and exciting (because he never pays attention to me, of course, when I told him I had picked one out and ordered it with my mother. Also she had another freakout about price and acted like I was holding her hostage by taking her unforced offer to buy me the second-cheapest degree frame on offer.). Then he presented the free gift small frame they got with it as though I should praise him for it, then a congratulation card that was alright I suppose if only because my brother drew a little creature in it that made me smile (my parents did not add anything special or meaningful to it). There was also a cap, which I genuinely enjoy and is nice, and a cheap ballpoint pen for some reason. He said there was more gifts at home, which okay, I don't care about gifts but I'd like him to at least be as excited for my graduation as he was for the picture frame. I didn't get any souvenirs from the bookstore because I knew if I got something he'd also gotten he'd freak out and accuse me of not listening to him or whatever, so I waited. When I got home my gift was Skittles. I don't know why I thought me might have gone to the bookstore and gotten me something special related to my actual interests. He doesn't care to know what those are anyways. I guess I hoped that at least this one day would be different.
Today, the day after graduation, all I've gotten from my parents is:
- Involved in a lecture and manufactured drama about my brother not using my car to drive to his job, even though my dad had the exact opposite position the entire rest of the year, because "what if you need to drive somewhere?", trying to manufacture a fight between my brother and me while also guilting and shaming me for not driving as a hobby like he does.
- A text message from my mother asking me if I'm awake because she wants more ammo to paint me as lazy. Nevermind that I barely slept the night before to make it to grad (of course neither of my parents would care enough about me to come with me as a family. I was literally the only person I saw who went on my own and without their family showing up early too, to support them. I walked past so many families in the parking lot knowing my mother couldn't be bothered to change out of her pajamas for me.) Nevermind I had a huge day that day, and that I was taking care of the cat's energy all that night too because attending my grad is apparently soooo draining my parents can't look after their own pet, and somehow it falls to me. All that matters is she woke up early and I didn't (after I handled all her inconveniences for her, funny how that works).
- Rapid knocks on my door because my dad is making bread as a hobby and apparently "needs" me there to help him with it, and then also "needed" me to stay and make cookies with him.
- A lecture about someone I never knew who apparently once threw something at another kid on my street when I was about 5, and about how he died and how his wife's hobby was really expensive or whatever and if I really don't remember him?
- I went to a showhome for fun and brought back the brochure. My dad jabbed his finger at the pictures on it to explain the house to me like I wasn't the one who literally brought the brochure back. Never asked if I cared or anything, just immediate launch into lecture and expecting me to stay and listen and praise him for being so smart or whatever.
- A lecture about D Day for some fucking reason. My dad is obsessed with history, and he doesn't have any friends to talk to (wonder why) so his lectures always fall on my ears.
- An email from my mother explaining in an extremely condescending way how important it is to have a cover letter when applying for jobs (just completely assuming I don't write them and also am too lazy or stupid to think about having them) including copy-pasted text from a sample cover letter that is no doubt one of the first results on google for "cover letter example"
- An angry email from my mother including a job she found on google
But, contrast that to my neighbors across the street. I was friends them in grade school, haven't seen them in like ten years, and just on my way past to the showhome we said hi and chatted in a genuinely nice conversation that wasn't a one-sided lecture like usual in my house. They could sense my emotions and didn't try to keep me there longer than I wanted to rant, they were genuinely interested in me and gave me space and interest to express myself, their mother even hugged me for graduating and it was the most genuine hug and congratulations I've ever received in person. Every other hug was my family members forcing me to hug them for their own sole benefit. I admit I cried a bit later on my walk thinking about it.
Compared to my parents, the parents of old friends care more about me, trust me more, believe in me more, have more hope for my future, are more interested in me, and understand me better. It's tremendously sad that all throughout my graduation ceremony I was worried about my parents becoming upset for some random reason and blowing up at me. I'm glad I at least focused and made myself feel some pride and joy in myself for graduating.
Even the random people I met who were also taking part in the open house were nicer and better conversationalists than my parents. A random elderly couple I have never seen in my life can have a better interaction with me than my own parents. The realtor was more chill and less perfectionistic than my parents by a mile. His million-dollar house sale was something he was less stressed and perfectionistic about and something he beat himself up over less than my parents are about my hairstyle when I'm going to class because "What if you meet someone in industry and they see you're not professional".
It's absurd.
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2024.06.02 04:54 lakija Secret Dragon - Chapter 2: Ignite

Secret Dragon - Chapter 2: Ignite
I opened the book and skimmed through a few chapters, happy to finally see some true information, with substance. Although I had many books of my own, I had never brought any of them to class; I had no intention of being asked about them or pressing the issue.
By virtue of my existence, it and I would be scrutinized. I had neither the patience nor the desire for another microscope to be placed above me.
But Sasha had no such reservations even after I told him about the curriculum, although he relented and said he would figure out a way around that nonsense. It seemed as if he was determined to go against the grain.
We spoke deeply, about different subjects, our project, and his books. The more he talked the more at ease he became. I unknowingly got closer and closer to him as the time passed. I had to literally pull myself back a few times. I wondered if he noticed. It was confusing how I kept leaning into the heat coming off his breath.
We were both startled at the sound of chairs scraping. We looked around as our peers gathered their things.
“It seems that for the first time this class is actually worth my time. Usually I am the first to leave,” Sasha said, surprised.
“I know,” I revealed.
“Hmmm,” he vocalized deeply. I had no idea if it was “oh really” or “interesting” or any other answer. It was just a deep throat vibration. I just knew he would do that a lot. I could feel it.
As I was packing my things, I realized I was a little feverish. I put a hand to my cheek. Was it hot? Or was it that he was speaking heat in my direction? I couldn’t tell. I never ran hot.
He watched me touching my face and chuckled to himself, putting away his books. I really wanted to be annoyed—at anyone else I would have been—but his lighthearted laughter surprised me; so joyous after so many weeks of being a specter in the classroom.
I looked him in his eyes, though, and shook my head challengingly at him, as if to say “what?” That only made him laugh out loud. It was both quiet and bassy all at the same time. The kind of laugh that was bottomless, scratchy. The kind of laugh you could tell would boom and shake you if given the space.
I never thought I’d hear that coming from him, let alone directed at me. I refrained from expressing an iota of emotion beyond a small smile. I had to stay cool.
Pam walked over to our table swiftly, no doubt looking to be rid of Jonah. She smiled at Sasha, grinned really.
“So. We finally meet! Pam Swiftwater,” she chirped. Her hand shot out as fast as she walked. Sasha halted his movement. He extended his hand more slowly, gently, engulfing her delicate hands in his large ones.
“Of course. I am Sasha Emberscale,” Sasha said, pulling his hand back to pat his chest.
Pam gave me a knowing glance of drama. “Oh I know who you are,” she said.
“Likewise; you are in my open physical hour,” he reminded her. “You are on the track team.”
“That’s right! It’s nice to finally, officially, meet you.”
Sasha raised his brow at her. “My friend has spoken of you,” he said offhand.
“What friend?” Pam asked, taken aback.
“Seth Fairbreeze, dragon of the wind.”
“Oh?” Pam said, her interest piqued. I didn’t know whether she knew who that was. But it intrigued both of us nonetheless.
“I will introduce you, of course, now that we are properly acquainted.”
“I can’t wait.” I knew she couldn’t.
Pam glanced back at her table and groaned. “Let’s get out of here. If I have to talk to Jonah any longer, I swear Imma strangle him.”
Sasha laughed heartily. “Very well. Let us depart this place to avoid attempted murder,” he joked.
“Why don’t you stick with us? We’re in the same course after this,” I suggested, gathering my items. I didn’t even hesitate asking him that. I’d done enough hesitating.
Sasha’s laugh tapered off into a quiet chuckle. “Of course. I would desire nothing more.”
I couldn’t hide my elation this time. Pam snickered at me. Thankfully he didn’t notice. I assumed.
Sasha draped his jacket across his arm, opting not to put it back on. Admittedly I enjoyed the view. He gestured for us to exit the class before him.
Every once in a while he would look down at me as we walked through the halls. I noticed his eyes following me.
I would sneak a glance at him when he wasn’t looking. It was apparent just how large he was now that I was walking right next to him. He was one of the only people in school taller than me. His shoulders were broad, arms thick. I know I was staring at the way they flexed as he moved. Couldn’t help but to.
Everything in me wanted to take that arm of his for my own. The thought of it being mine just felt so natural. I had to check myself a few times walking beside him.
It would be mine in time. That I promised myself.
—
We entered our Dragontongue class where I took a seat on his right at a table. Pam sat at mine.
Class with Sasha was much more interesting than ever before. He spoke freely and pleasantly, a stark contrast to the silent dragon he had been before I sat at his table in Dragonology. It was like something that had weighed on him had vanished.
I wasn’t unaware that he was happier since we had talked. I was pleased that it was me that had pulled him out of whatever darkness was holding him.
Again a pang of irritation ran through me. Why had I not introduced myself before? Just hearing the depth of his voice and the eloquence of his speech had me feeling some type of way. I could have been hearing that in my ears for weeks, those words of his carried on desert sands.
As class droned on, I saw that Sasha was appraising the professor with a raised brow as if too polite to allow complete disdain across his face.
He began to tell us about different Dragontongue dialects quietly, I suppose to keep himself occupied or distracted. I had to lean all the way in to hear his voice. It reverberated in my ears.
“If you were to say that word in the southern regions of Lyfax, it would mean to place bricks or stones atop each other as if building something. If you said that in the northeastern region, it means much the same, but doubles as a slang word meaning to fu— I am sorry, to have relations with someone.”
Pam squealed and covered her mouth. I covered mine too. I had wanted to hear the word ‘fuck’ come out of his polite mouth.
“Are you serious?” I asked instead.
“Yes, I am,” he said, brow raised. “Take care in who you say it to and in what context.”
Sasha tapped another paragraph “This term here. If you were to say it in the Northernmost tip of the country, it is basically calling someone a piece of filth in the wrong context, while just a few regions down it simply means to clean something without any further colloquial use. Their origins most likely started off with the same meaning and deviated as the people left and settled elsewhere. Knowing different dialects of Dragontongue in Lyfax is important. Linguistics interests me, as you can probably surmise.”
“Do you speak a lot of languages?” Pam asked.
“I occasionally travel for my work and interact with different dignitaries. I must know many languages and dialects at least at a rudimentary level.”
“Oh wow…” I said, truly impressed. Now that I had listened to his voice, I couldn’t place his accent. Unless deep was one. It wasn’t as if I was familiar with Lyfaxians’ manner of speech or various accents anyway. “What do you speak?” I asked
“Hmmmm. Common Lyfaxian. Common Lizardtongue. Dragontongue, of course; several dialects: fire, moon and wind. Many people know these. Shelltongue. Salamandra…one other.”
“Goodness,” I said in awe. I stashed away that “one other.” I’d ask about it later. I couldn’t imagine why it would be a secret. Hypocritically.
“My speech is not perfect in Shelltongue or Salamandra yet. But I can hold a conversation. I would enjoy learning and speaking your dialect of Dragontongue, as you mentioned earlier,” he remarked to me. Of course, Pam regarded me in shock. She gave me a chiding look, rightfully so.
Sasha didn’t miss her reaction. “If it is trouble, do not worry about it,” he said, frowning.
“No, It’s okay,” I reassured him. “I don’t mind.”
He was still uncertain, looking at Pam’s concerned face. “If I am to converse with a new group of dragons, I would prefer to know their dialect,” he whispered. “But not if it is cause for alarm. For some reason.”
Pam sighed in relief upon hearing him refer to me as a dragon. “Oh okay.”
“It’s fine. Complicated. I’ll tell you later,” I said, waving it all away. Sasha nodded.
“So did you all decide on a topic for your assignment?” Pam asked.
“Of course. We spoke much of it. I look forward to working with Leila.” Sasha said. I liked the way he said my name, the way he swung the vowels upward to where they needed to go. As it should be. “It will be interesting,” he said.
Pam glanced over to me. “How so?”
I looked amused, I’m sure. “Let’s say our Dragonology topic is about to be spicy,” I hinted.
“Sasha you’re a horrible influence already,” she accused, raising her brows at him.
“Of course,” he confirmed, chuckling deeply. “One needs a little corruption in the right direction, every once in a while.”
“Corruption? Oh really?” I said, regarding him in what I intended to be mock surprise. But I was genuinely shocked that he said it. He hadn’t corrupted me yet. He could try, but only when I was through with him.
Sasha chuckled silently. Just a trembling of the shoulders. A soft billow of scalding heat wafting across my face. Mmm, maybe sooner then.
Pam’s eyes widened, but she was beyond amused. If she could manifest a snack to observe our rapidly forming dynamic, she would have in a heartbeat.
She sat back, twirling her pencil. I knew she was about to start something. The twitch in the corner of her mouth was working. She was about to instigate her heart out. I groaned quietly.
“You know, Leila speaks all the same languages you do. She’s fluent in Shelltongue even; one of her best friends is Turtlefolk. She works at a place where a lot of people from different places come through. She took it upon herself to learn their languages.”
I groaned more.
“Is that so?” Sasha inquired, angling his body toward me. He sounded impressed.
I just rubbed my brows. I did not advertise my language skills. He looked at me with interest. “That is admirable. Why do you not wish to speak of it?” he asked.
“I don’t like puffing myself up. Drawing attention. Not that you are doing that,” I clarified.
Sasha smiled. “I know what you meant,” he said, speaking Shelltongue. I grinned. “I have been somewhat successful at not drawing attention—past my appearance at least—for a few weeks now.”
“Except your grades of course,” I pointed out in Shelltongue as well. “Literally perfect grades except two, and that’s only because of inaccuracies.”
Sasha raised his brow. “Ah, right, you have been keeping tabs on my marks. Very well; I have been under the radar except for my marks.”
“See? Y’all can speak tongues to each other in every flavor,” Pam said casually.
My mouth dropped. To say my eyes widened would be an understand. I shielded the side of my face.
Sasha choked and laughed quietly, holding his chest.
Never had she been that brazen. And she had said some crazy ass things for as long as I’d know her.
She looked so proud of herself.
“Pam, you are trying to start something, are you not?” Sasha guessed—back in Lizardtongue—looking away in laughter.
“Of course not. I don’t know what you mean,” she said, smirking.
I rubbed my face. “What were we even talking about?”
Sasha spoke as quietly as he could. “Different languages. Dialects. Things of that nature. Tongues, apparently,” he said, leaning toward me.
Really Sasha? I thought. He was something else.
He leaned back again and looked ahead, his smile dimming. “Also, things your professor apparently will not teach,” he said, the scales of his brows beginning to furrow.
“Yeah. It’s frustrating,” I agreed, uncovering my face.
“This class is testing my endurance. To hear my language butchered and be told that the proper way is incorrect is vexing.”
Pam stared at the professor, then at Sasha. “I’m sorry. This class is far beneath how you—and we—speak.”Pam and the rest of the Swiftwater Clan spoke to my family in the True way, the way of Sun Dragons.
Sasha leaned back. “And yet I have no choice but to be here,” he remarked. “And, apparently, neither do you both.”
It was a painful requirement, but a mandatory one. I nodded.
Pam turned back to the front of class. “You must be bored here at this university,” she said.
Sasha rubbed his chin. “Hmmmm,” he rumbled deeply. The vibration of that inquisitive hum made my shoulders tingle. I had to close my eyes and put a hand to my chest to halt my heart’s pounding.
“I was, yes,” he said slowly, “but yesterday was my last day of boredom. Today, the season has changed.” He glanced at me as he said it.
My mouth twitched into a smile. I found his choice of words particularly appealing. Pam looked curiously at him, but said nothing.
Sasha angled his body back toward me. I don’t know if I imagined it, but it felt like his whole existence was radiating heat now. It sent rush through my body.
“Let us return to our ‘lesson’ and pretend to care,” he suggested.
“Sasha,” I laughed, nudging his arm. It was hot to the touch. I was not imagining it.
“What?” he said innocently.
I shook my head at him, incredulous. I had no idea he was so funny. Who would have thought that sullen dragon was full of humor. He relented.
“I will behave myself,” he lied through his fanged teeth, patting his chest.
“Doubtful,” I returned, amused. It was easy to talk to him. Like we were old friends. Sasha was right: Pam had started something.
—
Sasha continued pointing out more language dialect rules and vocabulary from Lyfax. Things we couldn’t have learned on our own.
There were so many regions to learn about. I listened intently as he described them, and asked questions about everything. It was as if he was taking me on a mental tour of those far away places…
Before that day we hadn’t said a word to each other. Hadn’t shaken hands or anything. Whenever we had met eyes, we would quickly look away. I didn’t understand why we had done that. Now here we were hunched over a text book with our heads damn near touching. The heat of his breath warmed my face. It was hotter than earlier that day. Much hotter. No one was close enough to be bothered by it but Pam, and she did not seem to react to it.
And still I kept on gravitating closer. Because of how he had angled his body toward me, my left arm eventually pressed against his right.
My breathing stuttered, being in such close proximity to him. And I knew he felt it. He had to have felt it. Because I felt him tremble.
And there it was again! That strange rumble emanating from him, from his throat, I could now tell. Now that I was touching him, it was amplified, coursing through me. I tried to pinpoint its essence. It was very much like a growl, the crackling of a fire. And a hum; it reminded me of the way he responded to things without words. Hmmm.
All of it together was a magnetic song. I couldn’t help but listen. Let it lull me into a dream.
I wandered from the lesson for a moment to imagine what it would be like to just feel all of it pressed up against my chest. To embrace him and the heat he radiated.
I wanted to feel his fire whipping around me, not just the heat off him. To embrace a cascade of his flames. washing over me, engulfing me fully.
What would kissing Sasha be like? By the Goddess, the thought of drinking his fire until the persistent ice inside me melted was too tantalizing. If only I could just taste his breath inside my mouth… I wanted to look into his throat where I knew a flickering flame lie in wait. To explore it. Mmm.
It was like some deep ancestral memory was awakening. My breathing grew heavier. I swear to the goddess I heard his breath do the same. Except his breathing was punctuated by the rumbling crackle right under it. I knew he was in the same place I was.
I had to close my eyes and turn my head away from the heat coming off the words from his mouth. Because if I didn’t I would do something about it in that classroom—
“Leila?”
I emerged from my other world, his voice having shaken me from my daydream. I looked back to him.
“Class is over,” he rumbled into my ear quietly, the hotness washing over my neck and face. I rubbed those intense thoughts from my brows but they lingered everywhere else. I inhaled deeply and set about gathering my stuff. My hands shook.
Something hot brushed down my arm as he got up to gather his things. I looked down to see his claw drifting away from it. I thought it was an accident until he glanced at me. He smiled faintly though his brows were intense.
“Let us go,” he said gently, nodding toward the door.
“Okay,” I said, my eyebrow raising in interest. I slipped my bag over my shoulder. When he turned toward the door, I touched the trail of burning scales where he’d run his finger. When I say I could not breathe… I covered my mouth, then just rubbed my face with both hands. I didn’t know what to do. Mercy.
Looking around, my peers were also preparing to leave, so I composed myself the best I could and followed Sasha through the doorway.
—-
Dragontongue had been our last class of the day—”wow, you want that Dragontongue real bad huh?”Pam said— and it was time for us to part ways.
She chatted with Sasha, and I examined him while he was distracted.
I followed his gestures and mannerisms, wondering how he could weave such a spell over me that day. My behavior and my carefully curated facade were usually well under my control, perfected to give nothing away but pleasantness. But this dragon…
What I thought had been a perfect program was utterly interrupted. And the funny thing was, I wasn’t even mad at it. It was a break from the rigidity and monotony of my endless time at school. A break from my own reluctance to invite unknowns to myself, even those I desired. Like him.
For the first time in my life I thought ‘this is what the Sun must feel like to everyone else.’
From the moment I knew myself, my body had been cold. It was a point of contention between me, my parents and my Clan, all the Sun Clans. My mother was literally the leader of the Sun Dragons. And we, Sunscales, were Prime. Named directly after the Goddess.
People thought I was sickly. Anemic they called me. Even worse, some thought I was cursed. Most thought I wasn’t fit to be a leader in the future.
I did not let it stop me. I aimed for absolute perfection to stave off any doubt. Even at the expense of my own happiness sometimes.
My cold scales did not bother me. Although, at times, I wondered if I would be that way forever.
But now, I had felt Sasha’s warmth. This dragon had actually apologized in our first class for giving me the heat I never felt outside of putting my whole hand in a woodfire. It lingered in my scales as if they had drank it. They had awakened from a cold slumber.
I couldn’t go back.
I touched my arm that had been pressed against his, where his claw had grazed. Still hot to the touch. In fact everywhere he had breathed on, been near or looked at blazed. He had touched other things, shook hands with peers, finally, spoken to Pam, and none reacted as if he was exuding endless fire. Just me. Just for me.
“It has been a good day. You two have been so welcoming,” he said graciously. I was broken from my musings, realizing he was leaving. “I hope we continue to be friends during my time here.”
“For sure,” I said without hesitation, a little breathlessly. I didn’t want him to leave. He smiled warmly at me, almost in relief.
Pam smiled too. “Same,” she said. She began to rummage in her bag.
“It was nice to finally meet you,” he said softly to me. He put his hand out. I took it in mine. It was even hotter than before, unless I imagined it. I again put my other hand on top of his as if taking the warmth from it, to hold till later.
I don’t know what possessed me, but I let my thumb slide over the scales on the back of his hand. I didn’t even realize at first. But then I looked up and noticed Sasha was staring at me with his brow raised.
Gods, I could have died right there. Melted right into the floor and fallen into the void.
I almost pulled my hand in embarrassment, but he did not seem startled or upset. Instead Sasha placed his other hand atop mine. His face became intense for a moment, then softened. It seemed that neither of us wanted to let go. We did, though. The moment was brief, but it held much.
Pam, who had glanced up at us, had a barely concealed grin spreading over her face. She broke the spell that had drifted over us.
“Thank you for teaching us all that extra stuff about different dialects. I especially like that ridiculous word with the bricks,” she said, breaking the tense air.
Sasha shook his head as if clearing it. “Of course. I thought you might find that one amusing,” he said. He glanced at his phone, which had vibrated.
“You can lay your bricks on me anytime,” I mumbled to myself, still feeling the heaviness of that moment in my chest. I couldn’t help myself, saying that. I knew good and well it was provocative. I knew he might hear me. My mouth simply didn’t care. It was going to get me in trouble, I just knew it. I stared at my hand in wonder. It felt like fire had spread over it. What was he doing to me? Did he even realize that he was doing something? It didn’t seem like it.
In that same vein, Sasha didn’t say anything; he hadn’t been paying attention, I thought. Probably for the best. But then I heard him say something under his breath.
“Wow,” he whispered, silently laughing. I looked up at him. He covered his eyes, his shoulders shaking.
“Oh shit,” I said, covering my eyes as well.
Pam looked up. “What?” she asked, startled.
Sasha tried his best to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. He just laughed aloud then, a laugh that shook me to the core.
“Shut up,” I said, also laughing. I shielded my face in my hand as if I could hide from the embarrassment.
“I have said nothing,” he pointed out, his hands up.
“Please, please, let’s pretend I didn’t just say that shit,” I pleaded with him.
Pam’s eyes widened. “Oh my gods, what?”
“I will not say, Pam, yet I will never forget it,” Sasha said, smiling widely.
“What?” I replied, shocked.
“I will never forget it,” he repeated.
“By the Goddess Sasha. Are you serious?”
Sasha rubbed his eyes, still chuckling occasionally. “I am. Would you, if you were in my position?”
“Oh my gods,” I said weakly, still covering the side of my face.
Sasha patted his hand on his chest. “Gods, truly I needed today, desperately. It is no trouble to me, that you have said this. Certainly not. Unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend to, but we will discuss this permanent memory later, Leila Sunscale,” he said.
“Yeah, I bet,” I groaned, my voice shakey. I covered my face more. I was out of my mind, surely.
I heard Sasha begin to walk away, but his footsteps slowed. He hesitated, I guessed.
“Leila, do you have plans today?" he asked.
I looked up. He was looking at me expectantly. I couldn’t even say anything. I was still reeling from my ridiculous blunder. Now he wanted to see me! “What? I… umm—“
“No she doesn’t have plans,” Pam spoke up. Bless her.
Sasha smiled. “Perhaps we can speak of our project. I will find you later this evening as long as you are outside. I apologize for my abrupt departure but I must go.”
“Okay, cool,” I said. I rubbed my forehead.
He walked to the exit and looked back at me. “Perhaps we can build something later; I am not a bad mason, Leila Sunscale,” he said, chin raised. My mouth dropped. This dragon…
He let out a deep laugh and left. I watched him disappear through the doors of the hall, then followed him out. I saw a flash of red turn a corner into another building, vanishing from my sight.
"No he didn’t," I said in disbelief. "Did you hear what he just said?" I asked incredulously, gesturing toward his exit.
“What the hells did you say Leila?”
“I may have said a little something about bricks under my breath but his ass heard me. My gods.”
“Are you serious? Girrrrl," Pam said, shaking her head. “The gall on you.”
"Why did I say that? I must be crazy." I placed my hand over my forehead. Hot.
"I mean, he liked it," Pam said. "He thought it was funny. See, no harm done. If anything it sounds like Sasha has some business with you Leila," she teased.
I rubbed my face. I couldn't believe that I had run my mouth like that. In the other hand, I was pleased to have been so reckless. It had led me down this path. My scales prickled despite my embarrassment. Why should I feel bad now? He took my accidental flirtations as an invitation. And wasn’t that what I wanted?
Pam’s demeanor softened.
“Hey, for weeks you’ve been talking about how attracted you are to him. He turned out to be super nice, and he has a sense of humor, too. I like him. Fate is smiling on you again.”
"You sound like my mother," I noted.
“That's 'cause she's always right, isn’t she?" Pam pointed out, brow raised.
“Fine… She is,” I conceded. She would have said those words. In truth I had heard her say them many times.
Resigned to my fate, I stepped into the quad with Pan. I walked into a shaft of sunlight and sat on the bench it spilled onto, the Sun’s rays warming me. I closed my eyes against them, basking.
“I may as well go study while I wait for him. I can’t believe this is happening,” I remarked.
“Well believe it. Your bricklayer is seeing you today,” Pam teased.
“Pam, for real?” I remarked, opening my eyes.
“What? Come on. We can both go study.” Pam hugged me. She looked puzzled though.
“Leila. You feel hot. You never run hot. You’re not having a stroke are you?” she asked, alarmed.
“No. That’s just because he sat next to me the whole day,” I revealed. And breathed on me, leaned on me… I shut my eyes, wishing I had lied.
Pam nodded, not noticing my apprehension. “Oh okay. That makes sense. We did just get out of class. I didn’t know fire dragons were like that just idly,” she mused. “Let’s get on out of here.”
I wanted to tell her what I really felt. But I was sure it would sound crazy. Maybe I would after I met him and spoke to him. Privately.

We walked together through the courtyard. I glanced through the windows of various buildings looking for red scales moving in the halls. I saw nothing, of course.
We ended up going to the library. The room was large and made of ironwood. Small nooks with tables were tucked away amongst large shelves full of tomes.
We chose a table with a window next to it.
I studied as attentively as I could, trying to occupy my mind. But I could not stop seeing Sasha in my vision. Pam gave up trying to get me to engage in conversations with her. Instead I studied for the assignment in Dragonology on my laptop, and daydreamed.
—
“It’s getting late. You don’t know when Sasha will be looking for you.” Pam said, shaking me from my focus.
The light from the windows had waned somewhat, giving way to the Sun readying for slumber.
“Oh, right. I was deep into this essay here. I wish I had borrowed his books and saved my eyes,” I said, rubbing them.
Pam yawned as we packed our things, hefting her bag up. “I’m going to head home. Tell me how everything goes. Tell me if y’all build a house!”
“Pam!” I gasped. “Oh my gods.”
“Love you! Bye!” Pam called, rushing off.
—
I strolled around the grounds reading a book, looking up at the Sun every once in a while. But I didn’t spot Sasha anywhere. I hoped that I had not missed him. I had studied a bit longer than I intended.
Eventually I sat on a bench to wait. I would wait until dusk settled. And if he didn’t show I would see him the following day. It was not as if we had exchanged our numbers.
I pulled out my notebook full of writings, poetry, doodles. It was just one volume from a collection of filled books over the duration of my life, where I pressed flowers of my heart through its pages.
Before I could put pen to paper, I paused.
I put away my old faithful journal and pulled out a new one in deep red. It was not a coincidence by any stretch. I had stared at it on the shelves of an art store until I gave in and bought it.
I hadn’t written one thing in it since. After all, I hadn’t known him, and didn’t want to write only about his appearance. I wanted to know what he was made of. Now, having met Sasha, the red book was begging for ink.
So I let myself fall into a rhythm. So many elements of Sasha had revealed themselves to me that day: this dragon’s voice, his heat, his mannerisms. The words he said, the way he said them, his sense of humor hidden under all that seriousness.
I searched my brain and gathered up all my own words, sifted through them. I wrote a few things here and there, but nothing like what I wanted.
I looked up toward the Sun for some bit of inspiration, and my breath caught. A red form flew in front of it, wings beating. Seeing Sasha framed in that circle of fire was more than I could have hoped for. I stared up at him flying until he stopped, scanning for something.
The moment of inspiration I had been searching for was right there. I spoke aloud what I had and wrote it as swiftly as my claws could move:
“A dragon in a Circle. An Inferno wrapped in the Sun A scarlet vision framed in fire A cloud of embers in the Goddess’s hands She Holds all of him out toward me The gift of a flame within a flame “
I dropped my pen and covered my mouth in embarrassment. “Oh my gods what am I writing?” I asked myself. I stared at the words.
I turned my head to read them as if a new perspective would make them less mortifying.
“Hmm,” I muttered. “Needs some work but…’A flame within a flame.’ That’s some good shit.”
I looked back up. Sasha’s gaze swept over me then away. I waved my arm up at him, bangles jangling, hoping he saw me so he wouldn’t be looking all around all day.
When Sasha looked back in my direction he stopped where he was. He descended slowly until he locked eyes with me. My heart pounded again. It was driving me up the wall, the anxiety. Or rather anticipation. I pressed my hand to my chest watching him grow closer. His wings were huge, blocking out the Sun.
I had been staring at Sasha from a distance since he had arrived, his very first day. He was imposing, the way he had entered my classes, but exceptionally polite. I had been silently competing with him since laying eyes on his grades.
Now the distance was finally closed after my nervousness had kept me away. I folded my notebook shut and stood as Sasha landed with a woosh of air.
I looked upon him not as a mysterious figure in the back of class but as a new friend. More. I couldn’t help but smile when he straightened his already straight clothes as he moved toward me.
He smiled right back at me, chin raised.
“Leila,” he said.
“Sasha. Hey,” I replied.
“So,” he said, “you spoke of bricks earlier,” he teased.
My mouth dropped again. This dragon…
“You aren’t letting that go are you?” I asked.
“Never. Even if nothing ever came of it, I would never forget.”
“By the gods,” I muttered.
“I am not complaining,” he clarified.
My eyes widened. Then it occurred to me that he had insinuated something would come of it. Goddess, I felt my own fire sweep across my cheeks. I was so flustered I covered my mouth with the heel of my palm letting my claws settle over my cheek. I couldn’t stop the motion fast enough.
Sasha laughed good naturedly. Sweetly, even. “I will stop teasing. For now,” he said.
“For now?” I repeated past my palm.
“For now.”
I lowered my hand. “You are a trip, do you know that?” I said, raising my eyebrow. Even though I had been nervous, actually talking to him made me feel like meeting all his words head on.
He gestured for me to walk beside him without answering. I did. I almost took his arm again, so I clutched my notebook to my chest to keep my hands in check. We didn’t say much as we walked along the quad together.
Some students were staring at us as we walked. I suppose we made quite the pair together.
“It appears we are a bit of a spectacle,” he muttered to himself curiously, agreeing with my thoughts.
I couldn’t help stealing glances at him every once in a while.
His posture was impecable. He held his left hand behind his back. The other lingered in front of his chest as if ready for something. I didn’t know how else to describe it. It was interesting, that pose; deliberate. I saw that he had rings on his fingers as well. I had not noticed them before. They were red like his scales, rough hewn. The overall pose made him seem so stately.
I couldn’t quite describe his expression. It was both intense and peaceful all at once.
He caught me staring one time, though. He was looking right at me when I peeked. I turned away and put a hand to my face. I hoisted up my bag.
“Here,” he said.
I turned back. “Here what?” I asked.
He put his hand out to me, gesturing toward my bag. I stopped walking.
“Oh. Okay. Such a gentleman,” I said, a smile playing on my face, impressed. He chuckled to himself, accepting my compliment.
I slipped my bag from my shoulder, and he took it to hold on his elbow. We started walking again. I didn’t care after that; I looked at him openly, a little bit enamored.
‘Ok Mr. Sasha Emberscale. I see you,’ I thought.
PART 2
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2024.06.02 04:47 Muninn_Crow Functional Holy Books

From the log of Edward Price – Clerk for Diplomat Howard Weathers – 03.28.2803
I suppose a summary is in order for things to be clear. Humanity has a bit of a reputation as an odd lot in the galaxy. Most aliens don’t know really know what to think about us. You see, most aliens are actually somewhat boring, having fallen into galactic societal niches over thousands of years. The Atroxians are were space pirates, the Vontacruz own the casinos and travel cruise industries, and the Hordun operate the most efficient morgues this side of the galaxy – usually because of the Atroxians. But the Delridians? They are diplomats. And dare I say that they are the weird ones.
Delri Prima is the homeworld of the Delridians, a tall, lanky race who look like the grimdark cousins of a Star Wars Kaminoan. Brilliant medics, they apparently don’t see a difference between medical work and diplomacy, seeing both fields as the healing arts. Their medicocracy has a long list of accomplishments throughout the galaxy, enough that it’d look like an 18-hour credit reel on a movie. My guess is that they may have been the “Humans” of the galaxy preceding us before they finally settled, and rumors have it that the K’kituun Death Puppets are an ancient offshoot from their early days on the galactic stage.
But more to the point, after about 180 years on the galactic stage, Humanity has made a decent name for ourselves as the handyman and eccentric nerd. We are celebrated, thrown strange looks, worried glances, and altogether treated as small children. Though with the destruction of Axtroxia, they may want to worry about what will happen when we hit puberty. The Delridians have already been through that, though they were never as eccentric as we are.
They reached out to Humanity with a diplomatic frigate appropriately named Olive Branch about a year ago. I’ve learned they like to reflect the cultures they are talking to, so as to ease negotiations. Can’t imagine what the Atroxian equivalent was. Probably something like ‘Torn Heads’. Regardless, Diplomat Weathers was finally selected as the Earth delegate to talk on Delri Prima, and oh boy. That is a dark world. Like, bring a flashlight dark. I don’t know whether it is the slow spin of the planet, or the climate generators they have, but the entire twilight band is just dark and grey. It rains, and thankfully it is safe water, but it is eerie. From the embassy city they built to make us more comfortable, you can look out across the Delridian jungle and see the many other diplomatic cities slowly being devoured by the vines and trees.
The first night was fine, though I’m not sure any of us slept well. We were each provided a separate room or, well, house really. The entire city was made of a cold stone, themed after some old Italian city on Earth. The wind slipped through the narrow streets with a soft whistle, bringing with it a faint jungle fog. Somewhere down the street was a clattering window shutter, but with how much stone they used, and the strange alignment of the streets, you could hear a pin drop from eight blocks away!
Talks went well for the first three days as Diplomat Weathers and the Delridians got to know each other. I met with and discussed a number of cultural similarities with a member of the alien entourage, a Nurse Kelayo, when I wasn’t with the others in my group exploring the city. She was very proud of the settlement they built for us, but in our talks, she asked what we thought of the book. What book?
Well, after having a wonderful meal with my coworkers and some of the alien entourage, we said our farewells and parted ways. Kelayo was vague, but had explained how they had acquired a copy of the book, and that she hoped that we enjoyed the effort she put into it.

I didn’t look into it immediately when I returned to the lonely, lifeless house that was my quarters. Mark was my closest neighbor, and he was a block down. The Delridians, fresh from talks with the Hordun, thought we may want some privacy from each other. And while it is nice not having to hear Mark snore in the cabin like on the flight here, the house was a little… too private.
It was as I was preparing to turn off the light to go to sleep that I thought to look in the nightstand beside me. Kelayo had told us about the book, and when I opened the top drawer, it was indeed there. Sitting center and alone was an old Earth book of gnarled leather and no visible title. Whatever poor creature the Delridians had used to make the cover had terrible skin!
Opening the book, I found it to have been printed in an old dialect of English from before the Third World War, with some much older words I did not recognize. It certainly looked like it was printed in the archaic methods of old Earth, with wet ink instead of modern digital ink that provided touch-based pseudo-memoric context.
I began to flip through the pages of this strange book, turning up the brightness on the nightstand lamp to see better. The faded pages of the book looked sick and moldy, and my skin crawled just touching it, but the letters, despite the stains and grunge, seemed to pop from the page in crisp black. In fact, the ink was so black that it felt like I was staring into the void with each letter. Kelayo’s book was some archaic text of old Earth culture from the end of the 20th century, though I did not recognize the name. Written by a Bishop Simon from some archaic cult or religion, the book functioned as a “spellbook” like a deepdive virtual reality fantasy game might have. It was filled with a plethora of gods I did not recognize, and a ton of phonetic gibberish that sounded good when said, but easily complicated.
I hadn’t gotten too far when I heard a man’s scream next to me. Jumping out of my skin, I found no one there. But I remembered where I was, and crept to the window. It was Mark’s voice, more panicky than I had ever heard him. Peeking through the slats of the window, I scanned the street towards Mark’s place. The light was on, and someone was shuffling down the street, murmuring in pain.
Rushing down to the street, I rushed out to help him. Mark’s mutterings were too quiet, and he was holding something to his chest. It may have been a minute before I collected myself and tried to get answers from him, but you have to understand, I’ve never seen a dying man before. Not in real life. In the dim and permanent gloom, I could barely make out the trail of blood behind him. He pleaded again and again, and I had to find out where he was injured, and what it was he was carrying.
I went to take what he held, only to realized that in my own fervor to aid him I still had that creepy book. I put that down to wrench free Mark’s own possession. I really wish I hadn’t, for his grip was weak, with only one hand. I held his other, and everything above it.
My own voice was the next I heard echoing down the street as I most certainly fell backwards. Sorry Mark, but I lost your arm. Well, your first one. The second is decorating some chandelier somewhere, courtesy of Vanessa.
Please understand that for anyone in my situation, gorey horror was never my fancy, and I hope no one in the auditing board holds it against me. I would bet credits that any of you would have done much the same as I did.
Time is… unreliable on Delri Prima, with its twilit band and gloom. The only thing that moves is that blasted fog. And the vines. Especially the vines. I’m not sure how long I ran, but Vanessa was the one to find me, flanked by a street littered with Human bodies. Far more people than joined us on the crew… I think. You might want to review the ship manifest just to be sure.
Vanessa, once she verified my identity, guided me through the littered street, still gurgling and reaching out to us. Give her a raise, by the way. She’s the one that got us out of there. We met up with Dwayne and Harry, both armed with metal pipes and whatever other junk they salvaged, and we retreated to a boarded up house with other surviving members of the crew. They were glad to see me, though I don’t remember who they were. Many were new faces to the ship for this mission.
We settled here for hours? A day? Our comms were filled with static, and we couldn’t reach Mr. Weathers to see if he was ok. We needed to get off this planet. Someone mentioned that the ship was still parked at the landing bay. All eyes turned to someone in the back of the group, who slowly stood up, her form long and lanky. Kelayo, the Delridian nurse.
Vanessa worked with Kelayo on a plan to move through the city to the landing bay, while the rest of us sought supplies. This house had a basement, connected to a series of tunnels which we would use to slip under whatever muttering, mumbling horrors pleaded us to come outside.
Slowly, and as quietly as we could, our train of survivors crept through the tunnels. Our flashlights that Ben had found were pathetically dim, and frequently flickered out, sounding with a loud clunk whenever someone whacked it awake. Icy water dripped from the long tangled hairs of wriggling moss that clung to and between the bricks, the lights illuminating white lice-like that lived within the tangle.
Splashing was the only sound we heard for a long time, along with someone’s horrid cough. He was in the back of the line, far behind me, but kept coughing and groaning. Others frequently shushed him, louder than he coughed. But for all the good their efforts to keep him quiet were, it paled in comparison to Kelayo’s odd excitement. When I inquired her about her unusual positivity, she admitted fascination over the many accounts of average Humans combatting the supernatural evils that threatened Earth. How we could survive on a planet infested with the dead with only equally dark magicks astounded her, despite our culture not having widespread knowledge or application of this means of survival. It was faint, but she had nodded at the book. Why did I still have this disgusting leatherback that seemed to shiver in the cold?
I apologize for any impact I may have had on diplomatic relations with the Delridians, but I said some uncouth remarks about the whole situation and the book. I flipped it open to a random page to give an example, forgetting in my annoyance just how dark it was in the tunnels. But that ink… that horrid archaic stain… was fully legible. I admit I came to a stop in awe, though shortlived as the train of people behind me bumped into me. That coughing was gone.
So were half the people we had been travelling with. Kelayo glanced around with a chitter. She was having too much fun with the spooky, and now we heard skittering and scrape scrape scraping on the bricks. Vanessa fired a shot down the tunnel and urged us to run, so we did.
We were near the landing bay when we ducked into a sideroom per Kelayo’s prompting, and shoved a convenient table in the way of the door. The skittering was above us on the ground floor too, and then someone grabbed my foot. It may have been Mark. Well, the part of Mark I dropped.
Long gnarled fingers covered in dirt were the hallmark of these freaky things. Human hands with a life of their own, skittering around like bugs as they fled the flashlight’s beam and sought dark corners. These shelters included their unholy wriggling up our pants and jackets, some grips strong and muscular, and others gentle and cautious. If you have ever had a massage, you may never want one again once a chilly, slimy, dismembered hand tries to nest between your shoulder blades.
Vanessa fired off a few shots in her desperate attempt to keep the grabby hands off, though she nicked Ben’s ear in the process. The loud noise scattered the skitterhands enough for us to fling the last few from our persons. Vanessa slammed the book I still carried, ordering me to read it. She had lost her copy early on, but had the gist of its contents.
The ink on the book was darkest on one particular page, with a weird symbol that looked like it said XOOD. An old-Earth linguist may understand it better than I. Kelayo was forced to provide guidance, as she was the expert on the book, and with many, many attempts, and a dark horde gathering upstairs, were ready to begin. Vanessa was out of shots in her gun, and Ben and Dwayne were futiley pushing back the horde of impossible crewmen. These people smelled horribly of rotten meat, and overtook Ben first, followed swiftly by Dwayne.
Vanessa had backed into a corner, clearly scared. I can’t blame her, since I was, too. But I couldn’t move, couldn’t join her in the false safety of the corner. The rotten crew… this dead crew, was in the room with us, and were already grabbing me. Amidst the noise and confusion, I could hear Vanessa being attacked behind me, and the dull nails of my own assailants tearing at my skin. Kelayo, her form thin and dark, simply stood amidst the dead.
Read it, she said.
Say it with all your heart.
I remember the word that pierced the world that day, but can’t remember saying it. But my throat burns whenever I utter it now. BARASHAKUSHU. The dead froze in place, their fingers dug deep into my skin. BARASHAKUSHU. Limp, lifeless, just as they should be. BARASHAKUSHU. The haze in the air, even in the basement, lifted. BARASHAKUSHU. Vanessa breathed deep as I pulled her from the bodies and out the house to the crowded, lifeless street.
We limped, though we did not bleed, filled with holes and grime, and caked in blood. Kelayo followed wraithlike behind us, always ten paces behind. The landing bay was before us. Our ship and salvation was before us.
Diplomat Weathers was fine, though alarmed at our state. Delridian doctors tended to us as we explained what happened. A full transcript is available via the ship’s DIA-Log.
When all was said and done, the Delridian diplomat thanked us for being so willing to open discourse. To celebrate successful talks between our species, he offered us a parting feast. He motioned Kaleyo over, who had apparently been tasked with researching Human culture for the talks.
She explained over dinner about how she had poured over a stunning variety of Human dishes from our many cultures, but that she had settled on one that appeared to be a universal favorite. An Italian dish of long, stringy noodles over their equivalent of a white cream sauce. And dinner was fantastic! But Kaleyo seemed confused as well, stating that she had a difficult time picking out the right recipe. The instructions were apparently all over the place with a lot of strange steps that seemed superfluous to food preparation.
I asked her what she meant, to which she replied, “The base ingredients were simple, almost mundane. Of note, the various rituals in the preparation exhausted many of our best doctors. Some are still seeking treatment after one batch escaped. You Humans have a very strange culture of food, especially with the names. I believe you called this one… creepy pasta?”
Then the meatball on my fork blinked at me.
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2024.06.02 04:16 Justagirl1206 Discrepancy between green card and passport

Parents got married in 2004, they both have italian passports, issue lies with mom. Green card has married name, italian passport has maiden name, the passport was renewed in 2016, the italian consulate in NYC had her use the name on her birth certificate, not her married name.
We plan to travel to italy this summer, will this be an issue? I’ve read about these situations in the FAQ, but given it’s been 20 years of marriage i’m concerned if immigration would give her a hassle? The first time she changed her green card to use her married name was in 2009, but the passport has always been under the maiden name. She has. ever left the country since 1996. We will bring the green card, passport, marriage certificate and of course state id. Is this sufficient
We are based out of Suffolk County New York if that matters
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2024.06.02 02:12 safeedstransport Preparing Your Classic Car for Transport

Preparing Your Classic Car for Transport
Shipping a classic car requires careful planning and attention to detail to ensure it arrives safely and in pristine condition. Here are some special considerations for preparing your vintage or classic car for transport:
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1. Wash and Inspect the Vehicle
  • Clean your car thoroughly to identify any existing damage.
  • Document the condition of the vehicle with photos from various angles.
2. Remove Personal Belongings
  • Remove all personal items from the car.
  • Ensure the interior is completely empty to prevent damage during transport.
3. Secure Loose Parts and Accessories
  • Remove or secure any loose parts or accessories that could become damaged or lost during transit.
4. Check Fluid Levels
  • Ensure all fluid levels are topped up, including oil, coolant, and brake fluid.
  • Consider draining the fuel tank to a minimum level to reduce weight and safety risks.
5. Disable Alarms and Immobilizers
  • Deactivate any alarms or immobilizers to prevent them from activating during transport.
6. Protect the Interior
  • Use seat covers and floor mats to protect the interior from dirt and debris.
7. Check Tire Pressure
  • Inflate tires to the recommended pressure to prevent flat spots during transport.
8. Consider Using an Enclosed Trailer
  • For maximum protection, consider using an enclosed trailer to shield your classic car from the elements and road debris.
9. Verify Insurance Coverage
  • Ensure your classic car is adequately insured during transport. Check with your insurance provider to understand coverage limits and exclusions.
10. Choose a Reputable Transport Company
  • Select a car shipping company with experience in transporting classic cars.
  • Read reviews and ask for recommendations to find a reliable service provider.
https://preview.redd.it/5mrpmbv9w14d1.png?width=1258&format=png&auto=webp&s=dd43faf7b9bd6713eb78db7091c147c7191ce136
Proper preparation is key to ensuring your classic car arrives safely at its destination. By following these guidelines, you can protect your vintage vehicle during transport and enjoy peace of mind throughout the process.
For reliable and secure classic car shipping services, contact Safeeds Transport Inc. We understand the unique needs of classic car owners and are committed to delivering your vehicle safely and on time.
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2024.06.02 02:06 M1chaelLanz Unqualified Space Chapter 14

It took her into the next day, but she did come up with a plan. She was arguably one of the more brilliant minds on the ship, yet her hours of toiling yielded a conflicting result. Captain Tarkey paced back and forth, watching the note she had written on the island.
“I didn't go too far…did I? No, it's not that bad. It's not like it's a real threat,” Captain Tarkey said to herself. “He won't even know I wrote it. It is harmless.”
She picked up the note to reread what she wrote out loud.
Captain Tarkey,
You will pay for your treachery. Blood for blood, on the land of your ancestors, I will have my revenge.
Sincerely,
Your Doombringer
She looked over it again, examining it closely to ensure no stroke of her pen resembled her actual handwriting, rather than questioning the strangely polite and formal letter. There were better ways to make a threatening letter for the intent of getting Cam to accompany her planetside. In fact, there were better ways to simply get Cam to accompany her at all. None of those were deemed realistic to her overworked brain, so this is what she came up with. A fake assassination threat seemed like a logical choice with minimal downside.
“Why do I still have a bad feeling about this?” Captain Tarkey mused to herself and the door slid open. She threw her hands behind her back and stood up straight. The sudden interruption flustered her all the more when she realized it was Cam entering her place.
“Sorry I'm late,” Cam said. “I ran into Jack in the hallway.”
“Oh, it's alright. How are you feeling? When I found you sleeping on my couch, I was worried.”
That wasn't a dream? Shit. “I promise, that isn't normally like me.”
“You don't need to worry. I had no idea Parroon made humans sleepy. Vani told me when I called her to check on you.”
“Oh, that's good to know then.” His shoulders relaxed, relieved he hadn't developed narcolepsy. “Next time I want to knock myself out, I need to raid your refrigerator.”
“You're welcome anytime.” Captain Tarkey smiled, remembering the note still behind her back. “So, what were you and Jack talking about?”
“Just plans for when we get to Ohar. Jack can't leave until the second day after we hit orbit, but I see no reason to wait around for him. Just wish I knew what to do for a whole day.”
This was her moment. There would be no better time. She stowed the note in her waistband and took the shot she never thought would happen.
“Seeing as you're free, I was wondering if you would like to join me for the day? I'm visiting my parents and I'm sure they would love to meet you. They love hosting guests.”
Cam’s face elongated with intrigue. He wanted to see how locals lived and they would probably offer a place to stay for the night, which gave him more money to spend on silly souvenirs later. It sounded like a great idea, but he wanted to be careful not to impose.
“Would they mind on such short notice? I don't want to intrude or anything.”
“You won't be. You are my guest.”
“Okay then.” Cam nodded. “Is there anything I should be aware of, culturally? Like am I supposed to bring a gift or…”
“Nope. No gifts. The only thing I would say is don't wear your uniform. My mom thinks it makes our family seem more normal.”
Cam saluted her casually. “Can do. Wasn't planning on wearing it anyways.”
“Perfect,” Captain Tarkey said. “I have a lot to get done before we are cleared to land, so you can take the day off today.”
“Seriously? You don't mind?”
“Not at all. It will give you more time to plan the rest of your leave. Seeing as it's your first time, you will want to make it count.”
“Thanks, Banyani! I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“See you soon.” Captain Tarkey called back as Cam left. As per usual, once the door closed, she let out her true emotions. She punched the air and danced around her room. “Yes! He said yes!” He’s going to meet my family!”
Captain Tarkey pulled the letter out of her waistband, wadded it up into a ball, and drained the shot into the trashcan. The plan she spent hours on was nothing more than history. She was happy to rid herself of it. In hindsight, she knew the letter would only cause more problems than solutions long term. With it out of the way, she was free to relax and tell her parents the good news.
She went into her room and came back out with a slate, which she propped up on the island. Navigating through the contacts, she clicked on the one labeled ‘Home.’ The loading screen spun and a fun jingle played. Captain Tarkey was all smiles when the screen changed to her mom showing up on the screen.
Her mother, Gwendolyn, would pass as an older sister in the right light. Her cheeks were a tad plumper and her braid was thicker than both of her daughters’. Gwendolyn’s blue eyes sparkled upon seeing her daughter for the first time in far too long.
“Banyani, my beautiful girl, I was wondering when you were going to call. It is good to see you.”
“It is good to see you too, Mom.”
“Kenny, come over here. Banyani is calling,” Gwendolyn said to her husband, Kenton, in the other room before returning her focus back on her daughter. “How are you? When are you coming home?”
“I'm going to be there soon,” Captain Tarkey said, spotting her dad coming into frame. There was no mistaking his trim, salt and pepper beard or proud smile. She always felt his warmth radiate from a simple look, no matter how far away she was. “Hey Dad.”
“There's my little captain. You working hard up there?”
Gwendolyn slapped her husband's hand that rested gently on her shoulders. “Oh stop it. No talking about work you two. I haven't heard from you in ages. What is new in your life? Meet any cute boys?”
Captain Tarkey blushed. “Actually Mom, I was calling to let you know we will have one more joining us tomorrow.”
“Eeee! I knew you would find someone! What's his name? What does he do? How long have you been seeing him?” Gwendolyn rapidly fired off, unwilling to hide her excitement. Her dad was less enthused, keeping his poker face until more was said.
“Easy mom. We aren't dating, but I would hope after he gets to know me better, he might see me as more than just his boss.”
“His boss? He’s enlisted?” Kenton asked.
“Oh shhh you.” Gwendolyn waved him off. “Come on girl, details. Momma needs to know.”
Captain Tarkey smiled. “His name is Cameron, although he lets me call him Cam. And…he’s my personal security officer.”
“Oooh, what is that?” Gwendolyn asked, looking up and back at her husband who wore a disapproving gowl.
“Why does my daughter need a bodyguard?” Kenton asked plainly.
“She doesn't. It just gives her a reason for a late night booty call,” Vani said, coming into frame, leaning on her dad, while nibbling on something resembling celery.
“Vani? What are you doing there? We haven't gotten clearance yet.”
It wasn't entirely true. Captain Tarkey hadn't given the crew the approval to disembark. Clearance was given sometime in the early morning. She couldn't remember when exactly, since she was mostly focused on her trashed note.
Kenton turned his frustration toward the daughter on his shoulder. “You said she let you go early.”
“She didn't stop me. That's basically the same thing.” Vani took another bite of her crunchy vegetable. “So, you got the hot human to come to dinner. Please tell me you didn't order him to. That's tacky.”
“He’s a human!” Gwendolyn gasped and clapped her hands. “I have always wanted to meet a human!”
“First off, I didn't order him to. I asked him and he wanted to see you all. And second, Vani, which shuttle did you steal?”
“I’ll never tell.” Vani waved goodbye. “I’ll see you when you get here sis. Tell Cam I said hi.”
Captain Tarkey wanted to be mad at her sister for breaking several protocols, but she was too excited about bringing Cam tomorrow. She saw her mom happy as can be, but her dad was a different story.
“Banyani, this is a bad idea,” Kenton said. “You’re the captain.”
“And I think our daughter is responsible enough to make her own decisions.” Gwendolyn defended. “Don't listen to your father. If you like him, I say go for it. When are you two coming in?”
She was about to answer when another call came in. It was one she always dreaded to see. High Command.
Captain Tarkey sighed. “I'm getting another call I need to take. We’ll be there in the afternoon sometime tomorrow.”
“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow! Don't work too hard,” Gwendolyn said.
“I won't, Mom. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Captain Tarkey signed off and her finger floated over the screen to answer the next one. High Command was the last group she wanted to talk to, but she had a feeling this would happen. Making a new position is a rather irregular situation, which likely needed more explanation beyond the boilerplate form. Was she ready to give a plausible explanation for needing a bodyguard? No, but if she wanted Cam a little closer to her, she would need to be creative.
***
A bang came from below Lisa's cubicle desk as she hit her head on the countertop. Lisa let out the usual explicative and climbed back in her chair. The device on her desk was beginning to be far more than she bargained for. Cables ran under and over her desk, all going to other instruments of the trade. Many of the devices she was using were completely foreign to her months ago. Lisa caught on quick, but when it came to this, she felt frustratedly inadequate.
“Why won't you decrypt and make my life easier?”
A red light blinked on the device at a consistent pace. It was the most she was getting from it. No answer or, if it was an answer, it was speaking the wrong language. A blinking light wasn't exactly a language for any discernible person, alien or not.
“If you weren't the key to stopping this hacker, I would smash you. You understand me!”
Again, the device did not. The blinking continued as if it was mocking her, enjoying the sound of its own soulless and soundless voice. Computers were weird like that.
“I'm insane. I'm talking to a computer.” Lisa threw up her hands and stood up from her chair. “I need a break.”
Lisa left everything where it was and went for a walk around the ship. Normally, her go to brain cleanser was playing video games, but this was different. She didn't need a distraction. She needed to think. Her travels along the halls led her to one person she did not expect to find.
“Cam? What are you doing here?” Lisa asked, although happy to see a friendly face.
“I got the rest of the day off.”
“How did you swing that?”
“I guess she had a lot of work to do before we get into orbit. I don't blame her. I'm already going to be spending the next day with her. I’d want some time away from me too.”
Lisa smirked. “Sounds to me like she is preparing for more than our arrival.”
“What do you mean? Her parents are the ones hosting me.” Cam cocked his head. He truly was the epitome of clueless.
“You’re dense, you know that, right?”
Cam flexed his average looking bicep. “I mean, I have been working out lately. I wouldn't say dense. Built would be more like it–”
“You never thought for one second that she might like you?”
“Banyani? Like me? Come on, Lisa. Let's be realistic.”
“You’re right, you're not six one. Everyone knows women only want tall guys.”
“You calling me short?”
“I'm calling you dumb. Big difference, genius.”
“First you call me dumb, then you say I'm smart. Pick a lane.” He shoulder bumped her and she bumped him back.
Their friendly little razzing session ended up knocking loose some ideas for both of them, albeit about wildly different topics. Lisa was the first to verbalize her sudden epiphany.
“I think you are a genius,” Lisa said and began walking back to the IT office. “Follow me.”
“Where are we going?”
“To crack open the device.”
Cam lengthen his stride to keep up with her. “Device? What device?”
“The one Jack took. Or have you already forgot?”
“No, I didn't forget…” I have no idea what she's talking about. Was I even there? Dang, that parrot meat really did a number on me.
Lisa opened the door and rushed to her cubicle, excited to try out her new theory. At her desk, she unplugged different cables and plugged in new ones with the urgency of a surgeon losing their patient. She switched over to her keyboard typing with the same speed and intensity. It was a lot for Cam to take in.
“What exactly are you doing?” Cam asked, hoping her explanation will fill in a lot of gaps.
“I am reversing the modular polarity, fixing the capacitor output, and injecting a revised version of code for decrypting. How did I not think of it sooner.”
Cam was fairly certain half of what she said was complete nonsense. It still didn't stop his amazement when the device light turned from red to green. Lisa kicked her seat back and jumped in the air.
“Yes! I was close all along!”
“You did it?” Cam said, inching closer with his pointer finger to poke the device.
Lisa swatted his hand. “Don't touch it. I don't want you screwing it up.”
“How can touching it screw it up?”
“Ever heard of static electricity?”
“Nope,” Cam said, shocking Lisa when he turned his finger on her.
“Hey,” Lisa said. “See what I mean. You could've fried it.”
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“I'm just gifted, I guess.”
“I wish I was gifted at my job.”
“You must not be doing too bad. The captain is still alive.”
Cam shrugged. “She did most of the fighting. All I did was help her up when she fell.”
“You make a good point. Better start filling out your registration paperwork,” Lisa mocked.
“No way. It pays too well,” Cam said.
“Then you're buying us drinks when we get to the beach.”
“Only for you. If I know Jack, he’ll pick the most expensive bottle.”
“Don't you owe him money though?”
“Exactly why I'm not paying for his. He’ll end up owing me money. And we both know he won't pay that back,” Cam said and made his way to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“It looks like you got your hands full. I'm going to get ready for tomorrow.”
Lisa waved. “Make sure you dress up nice for the in-laws.”
“Not my in-laws.”
“Not yet.”
Cam shook his head, but it didn't shake the thoughts already planted there. Banyani doesn't actually like me…does she? Naw, that's ridiculous. She's the captain and my boss. Lisa's just teasing me. Yeah, that's it…
***
Lisa had made some progress, but like all solutions in IT, sometimes the hardest thing to do was to wait and see. Nothing had failed yet, which was a good sign in her eyes. The negative was it gave time for her annoying partner to return.
“Get any farther on your little project?” Lotan asked, fully expecting her to say no.
“Did you go through those logs yet?”
“I did. Last entry was you and then naturally me as I swiped in. Otherwise, the other entries were all around the normal times engineering would be doing expected work.”
Lisa looked back at her screen, seeing the progress bar inching forward at a snail's pace. With the logs being a bust, this was her last chance at finding out who was there. Lotan didn't need an answer to his question, nor would he get one from her as Captain Tarkey called. Lisa tapped on her slate to answer.
“Lisa, good, you're still awake.”
Lisa lifted her slate to show Lotan in frame as well. “Yes, ma'am. We’re both still at it.”
Captain Tarkey paused for a moment, thankful Lisa clued her in on who else was with her. What she wanted to discuss was far from professional in nature.
“How is the progress?”
“It's coming along. I had Lotan check the security logs for a different lead, but he came back with nothing. Now I'm just stuck waiting for this device to be decrypted.”
“So, you have some time to see me in my quarters?”
“Of course we do, ma’am,” Lotan said.
“Sorry, I was talking to Specialist Smots.”
“I guess so.”
“Good. Meet me here as soon as you can. And Specialist Lotan, if anything changes on the status of that device, you let me know right away.”
Lotan saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good,” Captain Tarkey said. “Lisa, I’ll see you soon.”
The screen went blank and Lisa sprung up from her chair. She hoisted her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door. Lisa had not the slightest idea why she was needed, but it seemed important. It wasn't long before she found herself at Captain Tarkey‘s door. She knocked and heard a muffled, “Come in.”
Lisa swiped the door, not actually thinking it would open for her, but it did. “Wow, since when did I get access?”
She continued inside, where she heard clothes hangers rattling in the other room and plops of heavy cloth hitting the floor. Lisa stepped cautiously to the noise, worried something could be wrong.
“Captain? Is everything alright?”
“I think I need some help,” Captain Tarkey admitted. Lisa came into her room, where a tornado had hit.
Uniforms were tossed all over the bed and floor. Hangers were piled up and more casual clothes littered the floor. Captain Tarkey held two tops up, one purple with thin straps and the other, a blue blouse with a floral design.
“I don't know what I'm doing?”
“Neither do I,” Lisa said. “Care to explain?”
“I'm trying to figure out what to wear tomorrow. I can't remember the last time I wore anything other than my uniform.”
“I'm not really the best person to ask.”
“No, you are.” Captain Tarkey lowered her clothing choices and grabbed Lisa's shoulders. “Please, you're the only one I can turn to.”
Lisa was surprised by the sudden ambush, yet it wasn't unwelcomed. It beat staring at the slow progress bar and Captain Tarkey genuinely valued her opinion. She never got that vibe from other women she had known.
“Are you okay with me being brutally honest?” Lisa asked.
“I wouldn't ask if I didn't. Last thing I want is to screw this up. Tomorrow is my big opportunity to show Cam I'm more than a captain.”
“Okay, I'll–”
Captain Tarkey gave her a big hug. It wasn't like her to act so impulsive, but she felt Lisa agreeing would be huge for wooing Cam. She recoiled fast and held up the two outfits again, excited to hear Lisa's input.
“What are you two doing tomorrow?”
“I was planning on doing some sightseeing and then visiting my parents for dinner.”
“Is it warm in Ohar?”
“Where my parents live it's a bit cooler, but otherwise fairly comfortable. I think it is twenty one degrees.”
She must be talking celsius. I definitely wouldn't wear either in twenty one degrees fahrenheit.
“They both look cute. Are you planning on wearing leggings?”
“Yes…that isn't too sexual, is it? I don't want him to think I’m a slut.”
“Then go with the blouse. Or you could wear skinny jeans. I never saw them as overly sexual.”
Captain Tarkey went back to her bed and found a pair of white jeans that resembled her uniform pants. “Would these work?”
“I don't see why not?”
Captain Tarkey began putting on the clothes and Lisa sat down on the bed, looking at all the other sad unselected options on the floor. The shirts she had were all rather plain and wrinkled, while her uniforms were all pristine and eerily similar.
“Did you just dig all these clothes out of your dresser or something?” Lisa asked.
“I had to raid my sister's closet. She has much better clothes than me,” Captain Tarkey said, squeezing into her skinny jeans. “She didn't leave much behind to pick from.”
“Leave behind? Where did she go?”
“She stole a shuttle and is already at our parent's place. When I find out how she did it, then I'll consider returning her clothes.”
Lisa chuckled at the innocent level of retaliation. “Couldn't you just reprimand her or something?”
“Tried it. Doesn't work. I threw her in the brig once. Not making that mistake again.”
Lisa bounced on the bed closer to her, eager to hear more. “Okay, there is a story there. Spill it.”
“It was strange. One day, out of the blue, she decided to dress up in my uniform and go give orders on the bridge.”
“Why would she do that? Is she power hungry?” Lisa asked, not knowing anything about Vani.
Captain Tarkey shook her head. “No, she kept blaming it on ‘a Halloween’, whatever that is.”
Lisa burst out in laughter. How could she not? These aliens may have spoken English, but their understanding of human holidays was severely lacking.
“What did I say?”
“Sorry. Nothing. Please continue,” Lisa said, trying to get her composure back.
Captain Tarkey continued, despite the new questions forming in her head. “The problem was, it wasn't a punishment for her. She liked not having to work and somehow still found a way to have sex with guys.”
“No way, how is that possible? Don't you put men and women in different cells?”
“All I'm going to say is tentacles reach much farther than I thought.”
Vani sounds like a wild one. “Speaking of being pleasured, you need to tell me about your hair situation. How does that work exactly?”
Captain Tarkey scratched her head, unsure how to phrase it for her to understand when an idea popped in her head. She slapped the ends of Lisa's hair, getting a minimal response.
“You didn't feel anything did you?”
“Not really.”
“If I pulled on your hair, where do you feel it?”
“In my scalp.”
“See, that's where we are different. I feel it through my whole spine or in some cases my entire body. A simple slap that did nothing for you would tense my back muscles.”
“Really?” Lisa said, looking at Captain Tarkey’s braid.
“Our hair is very sensitive. Mine is less sensitive than most, but still.”
“So, do you like turn yourself on when brushing your hair in the morning?”
Captain Tarkey laughed. “Maybe Vani does. No, for me, the only way that is happening is if I pull on it really hard.”
“Or Cam touches you anywhere?” Lisa teased.
“Not anywhere…” Captain Tarkey blushed.
“You're right. From where I'm sitting, he doesn't even need to touch you.”
“I'm that obvious?” Her voice almost whined and fears entered her mind. Lisa was quick to offer some assurance.
“Unfortunately, Cam is oblivious. I did put in a good word for you.”
Captain Tarkey lit up. “You did?”
“I got him thinking, at least I think so. Hard to tell with him sometimes.” Lisa hadn't finished her sentence for longer than a millisecond before feeling Captain Tarkey’s arms wrap tightly around her.
“Thank you, Lisa. I'm so glad to have a friend like you.”
Lisa patted her on the back, finding it a little hard to breathe with the death grip around her ribs. Despite the minor discomfort, it was nice to feel a warm embrace for a change.
“Me too.”
***
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submitted by M1chaelLanz to WritingsByLanz [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 01:55 theorangecrux Mobility Scooter advice

My friend and neighbor just got a Movinglife Atto scooter. It's an awesome scooter and think it might be one of the ones approved to go onto a plane with. We were going through the process of folding it down and loading it today- and realizing we might need a change of plan. It's amazingly light for what it is, but it's still really heavy. I don't think folding it down and loading it into her Chevy Volt will be a good solution. She's hoping to use it for her errands as well, not just travel.
Looking at the loading help options, it looks like they're for able bodied people. Ramps and lifts- and it looked like they were going into larger vehicles. So I think that's where we're going to look- but not getting gas has been pretty magical for her. We're in Washington state and full service stations aren't very popular here.
I was even thinking of putting a trailer hitch on her car with a platform that she could pull it onto from the side controls and strapping it down.
Ok, thanks for reading. I'm just putting it out there for feedback.
submitted by theorangecrux to MultipleSclerosis [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 01:44 Hermit-44 Sell As Is or Invest In Remold

Florida - Looking for advise from realtors or people who have experience please and thank you.
Sorry but this is going to be an odd situation. I (44M) live in the Philippines (South East Asia) and my mother (66F) just pasted away yesterday. I'm writing this post as I kill time traveling back to the US from the airport. I have NOT yet spoken to a realtor in the area. Again, still at the airport trying to get back to US.
Here is the question???? Option 1 - Do I sell the house as is and make a lot concessions on house making it sell for almost nothing because of how badly in shape the house is currently or Option 2 - Do demolish the house and sell just the land. or Option 3 - Do I drop all the money I have saved (80K) into it and do a full remodel and sell it after the remodel. Option 4- just build a new house and sell it.
-----I have NO plans on ever moving back to the US so keeping the house isn't an option. I can't rent it out because it would need more work than I have money for to make it "rentable" as well as the issue of managing a rental from half way around the world.
Now onto the details.
My mother owned a single story 2bd 1bth house in St Petersburg / Clearwater, Pinellas County, Florida that was built in the 50's, currently valued at the 230K mark according to Zillow. The house was originally owned by my grandparents. When they passed, she got it. Now that she has passed, I get it. Taxes are paid and the house was in a trust so transfer will be simple. She does have a mortgage on the house currently that is 65K to pay off.
The issue is that the house (in my opinion) is a piece of crap. Nothing is up to code. I know the house has or has had lots or termite damage as well as major bug infestation (back in the mid 90's, it has since been tented and has had on going pest control). The only thing that is newish on the house is the roof which was done (with permits) about 10 years ago (shingle roof). I know for a fact that the house needs a LOT of repairs if its going to be sold. The yard (lot) is 110 x 44 and is close to a highway so the location is good. Good school district. But the house itself is a mess. Last time I was there was 4 years ago and I know she hadn't had any work done to it since then.
The outside of the house has kind of tile like siding (maybe a foot x 3 foot) and a lot of them are broken or just plain missing leaving the asphalt paper behind them visible. She had a tiny porch/deck (4x8) connected to the front door added on about 12 years ago (no permit). The yard, while mowed, is your typical Florida yard that is 50% sand and 50% grass/weeds. The back yard has a small metal shed (6x8x6) that houses the mower and tools. There is a poured concrete patio (10x20) at the back door but it is a good 4 to 6 inches below the door but has no covering or shading and burn your feet to a crisp in summer time.
The inside of the house as you enter the front door, is the living room (maybe 13x20)(standing at the door looking straight is 13' and left to right is 20') with kitchen directly behind it (maybe 7 or 8x10) and an enclosed porch behind the kitchen (12x12).When the house was built it was a screened in porch but when my grandparents had their 4th kid they enclosed it and made it a make shift bedroom. The walls are 3 foot high brick and the top 5 feet are 2x4. The work was done by my grandfather and a neighbor back in late 60's (no permits) and neither of them are professional handymen or tradesmen. After the kids grew they turned it into a dining room / laundry room. The laundry hooks up to the kitchen plumbing (again not done by a pro)
To the left of the front door is the master bedroom (13x13) and directly behind that is the second bedroom (10.5x10.5). There is a kind of shared closet that separates the 2 bedrooms. Shared as in the master has its own and the second bedroom has its own but there is no hard wall between the 2 rooms. The back of the closet is the wall for each bedroom. Sound very much travels lol. The bathroom sits in a kind of hallway/knock between the second bedroom and kitchen. The bathroom is tiny (5x6) You can stand in the center and touch all 4 walls. It has a tub (probably cast iron original to the house), a toilet and a pedestal sink. The walls are the odd thing throughout the house. The living room has 2 walls of wood panels and 2 that are plaster or drywall (can't tell the difference) Kitchen is all drywall. The dining room / laundry room has a mix of 70's or 80's bead board on one wall (the wall between kitchen and dining room) and drywall behind laundry area and bare open space on the other 2 walls. (you can see the 2x4s and what looks like plywood on the outside. The master bedroom has dry wall on 3 walls and wood sheeting on the closet wall. Same in the second bedroom. Bathroom has all drywall with small square tiles (maybe 6x6) going up about 4 feet high. The tub has tile up to the shower-head height.
The floor throughout the entire house is slab concrete (actually in great shape surprisingly) with small carpets placed around (like area rugs). The exception to that is the bathroom and kitchen which are tiled. (probably original to the build) The house sits on a cement block foundation with 6" slab poured on top. Its solid. There is an attic you can access threw a opening just outside the bathroom (2x3) in ceiling. House doesn't have central heat or a/c. Both bedrooms have a window a/c and the living room has a wall heater (hasn't been used in 20+ years) but no other sources or a/c or heat in the house. Living room and both bedrooms have ceiling fans. There are a total of 16 windows throughout the house so if you open them all you get a decent cross breeze.
In the mid 90's ish, there was a bug infestation (its Florida) and the house had to be tented and treated done by Orkin. They are the ones that found what they called serious signs of termite damage. Since then the house has been treated every 6 months via pest control service.
I grew up in the house and moved out in the mid 90's and haven't lived there since but even as a kid I knew the house was a piece of crap.
Now onto the issue. Values all come from looking at Zillow and realtor.com. The neighbors house directly to the left (corner lot) is a fully remodeled (late 2000's) solid concrete block build with 2bd1bth screened in porch (almost identical to my moms house just better, although the yard is smaller) valued at 360K. The neighbor directly to the right (corner lot) is a fully remodeled (8 years ago) stick framed 3br 2 1/2 bth with bonus room and attached garage that just sold ( 2 years ago) 590K (has almost no yard at all). The neighbor directly across the street from the house (corner lot and is also a double lot) is a 5br 4bth triple garage valued at 700K. The house directly behind the house (has a shared alleyway) is a shotgun style house 2br 2bth house (decent yard) valued at 340K.
Currently, my mothers house is valued at 230K, one of the lowest in the entire neighborhood. And by neighborhood I mean I am looking at a 10 city blocks x 6 city blocks. There are currently 2 empty lots, same size (110x44) that are for sale for 225k and 200k. Both appear to be under contract.
Now the question????
Option 1- Do I sell the house as is and get as much as I can for it in its current condition. The house has a mortgage on it that will have to be paid off for 65K. I know that once anyone does a home inspection it will come back lots of things that need fixing (electric, water, sewer, possibly structural, etc.) Doing the math on it, homes value 230k-65k mortgagee - realtor fees - concessions will get me maybe 60-100k to walk away with.
Option 2- Demo the house and just sell the lot. Have to get a permit to demo it and hire someone to demo it and take it to the dump. Looking online thats about 15-20k. If I could sell the lot for 200k - 65k mortgagee - demo fees - realtor fees I could walk with 80-90k
Option 3- I could drop every penny I have into a remodel (80K) and possibly take out a mortgage for remodeling, bring everything up to code and increase the homes value by maybe 100k. (new landscape, new siding, new electrical, new plumbing, new windows and doors, new 2x4's where needed, new insulation, new havoc system, etc.)
Option 4- Demo the house and build brand new. Then sell it.
Thank you if you took the time to read this and respond.
submitted by Hermit-44 to RealEstate [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 01:07 CIAHerpes I live alone in Alaska. The Twisted Man has been peeking in through my windows.

A few years ago, I decided I needed a major life change. Everything seemed to be going downhill- my finances, my mental health, my life. I would go weeks without sleeping sometimes as the heavy traffic passed through the city streets down below. Every time I went outside, I saw more homeless people, more needles and crack pipes littering the ground, more muggings and assaults and overdoses and deaths. The city had become a wasteland, and I knew it was time to leave.
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
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2024.06.02 01:06 CIAHerpes I live alone in Alaska. The Twisted Man has been peeking in through my windows.

A few years ago, I decided I needed a major life change. Everything seemed to be going downhill- my finances, my mental health, my life. I would go weeks without sleeping sometimes as the heavy traffic passed through the city streets down below. Every time I went outside, I saw more homeless people, more needles and crack pipes littering the ground, more muggings and assaults and overdoses and deaths. The city had become a wasteland, and I knew it was time to leave.
I had no girlfriend, no wife, no kids. My parents had both died a few years prior and I barely talked to my siblings anymore. I had nothing to tie me down to this place where I felt like I was dying inside a little more each day.
That was when I sold nearly everything I owned, got in my car and drove up to Alaska to try starting anew. I bought a small cabin and a plot of land in the middle of its majestic mountains and dark, enchanting forests. In the winter, the Northern Lights would shine through like the eyes of God, sending out divine trails of light that danced through the sky in cosmic waves.
And while the move did help give me some peace of mind, in the end, the source of all my problems had ultimately followed me thousands of miles into this endless wilderness. It would take me a long time to realize the cause of all this misery was myself.
Because, as a wise man once said, “Wherever I go, there I am.”
***
I lived in that cabin for three months without any major issues other than the constant threat of bears, moose and wolves. I had a rifle and a shotgun for hunting, a small garden in the backyard and a solar panel to generate electricity.
“This is the life,” I said, relaxing on a hammock I had strung across the corner of the cabin while staring at the endless beauty directly outside the window. White-capped mountains loomed like giants in front of thick clusters of evergreens. A virgin covering of fluffy snow made the entire world glisten and sparkle. There wasn’t a house or road in sight.
“No work, no stress, no pollution, no cars honking all the time…” I closed my eyes, breathing in the clean air. I ended up falling asleep for a couple hours, waking up just as the Sun had started setting. Bright orange streaks mixed with the bloody smears of the fading light as it disappeared behind the mountains.
I groggily arose, stumbling over to make a cup of instant coffee. As I sipped it, I wandered around the room, looking for something to pass the time. There were still quite a few random objects left behind by the last owner that I hadn’t gotten rid of yet. I had moved in to find a stocked bookshelf filled with classics by Philip K. Dick, Isaac Asimov and Robert Heinlein. Bored, I started rifling through the collection, looking for something good to pass the time. As I shuffled past “A Maze of Death” and “Ubik”, something caught my eye.
A black, leather-bound book with no title or author name stood there, its cover faded with time and wear. Curious, I pulled it out and opened it. I saw the cursive scrawled across the pages in a neat, copperplate script and realized it was a diary left behind by the previous owner. The first entry was dated “January 9th, 2015.” This is what it said.
***
“I don’t know if I’m going crazy or not. I went into town to talk to my therapist yesterday and she said I should try writing everything down. She talks to me like it’s all in my head. But I know it’s not.
“When I first moved into the cabin, it seemed like Paradise. I never thought in a million years that something would be slinking around at night. I never thought it would be hiding under my bed, peeking in windows and following me like a shadow.
“Right now, I’m snowed in with a cup of coffee in one hand and my pistol in the other. I can’t sleep anymore. I keep hearing something shuffling around under the bed. Sometimes, I think I even hear ragged breathing, as if a corpse with dirt in its lungs had come back to life.
“I’ve caught glimpses of that thing in the darkness. Whatever it is, its skin is loose, almost falling off the bone. It almost looks like a naked, emaciated man. Its eyes are rotted and dark, its back hunched, its spine twisted and jutting out like tumors. It moves in this slow, jerky way, but I can never seem to catch it. Its body seems broken and out of alignment. Its legs bend the wrong way sometimes.
“By the time I turn on the lights or try to take a video of it, it’s always disappeared. But its fetid odor remains. It lingers in the cabin like a sweet-smelling, spreading infection.
“I don’t know what it wants from me. I want to leave, but with the storm raging outside, I’m stuck here, unable to get all the way back to town. The snow surrounds the cabin in mounds five feet high. I feel like a prisoner caged with a rabid beast, not knowing when it will strike.
“My wife claims she hasn’t seen or heard anything, but she keeps vanishing on me. Last night, she disappeared in the middle of a snowstorm. Where did she go? I asked her in the morning, but she said she was here the whole time. She didn’t remember anything. There’s no way she went into town. There wasn’t time and the trails were impassable that far down.
“Something’s going on here, but I don’t know what it is. I’m truly scared for our lives.”
I slammed the diary shut, not wanting to read anymore. I didn’t want to become infected by some kind of contagious cabin fever. If the last owner had gone insane in the mountains and started hallucinating naked corpses crawling around, I really didn’t want to know.
I shoved the diary back in the bookshelf, going for “A Maze of Death” instead. I tried to forget what I had read in the diary as I flew through the novella. All night, I tried to get the image of the naked, twisting man with rotted eyes out of my head, but I couldn’t.
I eventually fell asleep right before dawn. But, as my eyes were closing, I thought I saw a silhouette in the window- a starved man with excited, black eyes that seemed to be rotting out of his skull. I thought I saw him put his inhumanly long fingers against the glass as he leaned forward. I blinked, sitting up and glancing out into the white, snow-covered wonderland.
There was nothing there.
***
Another hunter occasionally followed the deer trails near my cabin. A frozen lake stood a quarter-mile away, the surface white and covered in thick drifts of snow. I bundled up, deciding to go outside for a hike in the frigid dawn. I strapped on my snowshoes and grabbed my shotgun, as I always did when I went outside. I never knew when a polar bear might be waiting around the next tree, after all.
I opened the door, seeing footprints pressed into the snow all around my house. At first, I thought it was that silhouette I had seen, the nightmarish thing from the diary. But the footprints didn’t go over to my window. They followed the trail twenty feet away, veering off towards the frozen lake at the bottom of the hill. I glanced down in that direction, seeing a black figure plodding slowly forward.
“Steve!” I cried, recognizing my only neighbor in a four-mile radius. He had a cabin about a mile away on his own little plot of land. He jumped, clearly startled by the sudden noise. His black snow pants and heavy fur coat swished together as he spun, raising his rifle high. When he saw me, he immediately lowered it and put a gloved hand up in a friendly greeting.
“Hey Josh! Surprised to see you up this early,” he yelled over the muted wintry landscape. Sounds always seemed different after it snowed, as if all the noise in the world had become faded and dead.
“Yeah, I’ve been having a little trouble sleeping,” I said, slinging my shotgun around my shoulder. “What are you doing anyway?”
“Just a little hunting, you know,” he said, giving me a sly wink. “Animals are always most active around dusk and dawn, it seems. That’s when I always have the best luck, anyway.” He stepped close to me, staring me in the eyes. “You do look like shit. Those bags under your eyes are big enough to carry groceries in.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know… Hey, this might sound a little weird, but did you know the previous owner of this cabin?” I asked. Steve’s wrinkled, old face fell into a scowl. His expression immediately became guarded and distant.
“Sure, sure, we met,” he exclaimed bluntly. He seemed to be searching my face for something, but I didn’t know what. His reaction left me feeling off-balance and nervous.
“Is he still around?” I said. Steve’s scowl deepened.
“Buddy, I don’t know what this is about, but he’s dead. He’s been dead. He died in that cabin, actually.” He pointed a finger at my home accusingly. With those words, my heart seemed to drop into my stomach. Waves of dread flowed through my body like water.
“How… how did he die? Like a heart attack or something?” I asked. Steve’s gaze turned downwards. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Do you know that Alaska has the highest missing persons rate in the entire United States? It’s not even close. In fact, for the population size, we have far more people who go missing and never get found than anywhere else. They even have a name for it: the Alaska Triangle,” Steve said. “And we’re square in the middle of it.” I stared blankly at him, wondering where he was going with this. It seemed like a way to avoid answering my question.
“No, I didn’t know that…” I responded. Steve nodded, raising his head again. He heaved a deep sigh.
“Look, the thing with the last owner and his wife… it’s somewhat disturbing. If you really want to know, I’ll tell you, but it’s certainly not going to help your peace of mind. And it definitely isn’t going to help you get some sleep.”
“I want to know,” I insisted instantly. The wind started to whip past us. Flakes of ice and snow flew sideways in the sudden currents.
“Let’s go back to your cabin then,” Steve said, pulling his heavy fur-lined hood off and shaking out his long, black hair behind him. “I could use a bit of whiskey to warm up.”
***
We sat down with a bottle of Johnny Walker and two shot glasses. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but Steve certainly was. He chugged three shots in the span of a minute. I sipped at mine, drinking half and putting it back down on the coffee table with a thunk. Steve grunted, hissing through his open mouth for a moment.
“Ugh, that’s the good stuff,” he said, slamming his chest as the burning liquor worked its way down. Steve looked up at me with a new sparkle in his eyes. “Huh, so you want to know about what happened to Will Lenning. Well, I’ll tell you that no one really knows the whole story. I used to see him occasionally, come down and have a drink and talk. We all know each other around here, obviously.” I nodded, motioning him on. “He seemed like a normal, upstanding guy. He kinda reminded me of you, actually. A young guy trying to escape the hustle and bustle of the city life, the cancer of the American Dream.
“Well, he was here for maybe a couple months, I don’t know. Everything seemed fine. We used to go skeet shooting occasionally, have a beer, you know. We’d get together with a couple other hunters who live closer to town and sometimes play some poker. I never saw anything odd about Will. I never could have predicted what happened to him.” He heaved a long sigh at this, looking out the window at the sharp mountains with an expression of nostalgia.
“Well, what happened to him?” I asked, encouraging him to go on.
“He started talking about seeing someone peering in through his window at night. He talked about hearing sounds from under his bed while he was laying there in the dark- sounds like diseased breathing and shuffling. He started keeping all the lights on in his cabin twenty-four hours a day.” Steve leaned close to me. A glimmer of fear rippled across his pale, wrinkled face. “He started to lose his mind. Started digging holes all over the place, looking for something. Even in the middle of snowstorms, I would occasionally see him outside, digging. It seemed like he never slept anymore. It was classic cabin fever if I ever saw it.
“It was only a few weeks later that I came over here, concerned. I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, which was fairly unusual. I found the door hanging wide open. Propped up in a chair in the exact spot where you now sit, Will lay with a blast hole showing clear through his skull, a shotgun laying at his feet.
“And next to him, I found a blood-stained diary opened to the middle page. The last entry was stained with blood spatter, but still visible. I remember leaning down and reading it. It was only a few sentences long.” I glanced over at the bookshelf with the same diary, saying nothing.
“It said something like, ‘I see now what’s going on. The Twisted Man is leading me to the truth. Today, I will finally find it.’”
“And that was his suicide note?” I asked, my heart hammering in my chest. He nodded.
“Yeah. I went into town and got some rangers to come check it out. Eventually, they got cops and CSI there. They took all the stuff as evidence, including the diary,” he said. “Good riddance, I say. Reading something like that is never beneficial. Sometimes delusions spread like a virus, you know what I mean?” I did, but I said nothing. I glanced back at the diary, its black leather cover gleaming like a crouching snake.
And I wondered- if the police took the diary as evidence, how did it get back here?
***
“You said he had a wife living here with him, too?” I asked.
“Yeah… she went missing around the same time,” he said. “Pretty bizarre. The cops thought maybe she just moved away, but…” He shook his head grimly. “As far as I know, she was never seen again. It was like she had evaporated into thin air.”
After Steve left, I walked stiffly over to the bookshelf, taking down the diary. I flipped open through the pages. In the middle, I found the last entry. Spatters of old, darkened blood were scattered over the page like raindrops. I found the suicide note and read the date.
“January 27th, 2015,” it read. Will Lenning had not lived long after he started seeing the Twisted Man. I wondered if my fate would be the same.
The Sun had started to set outside as I sat with the diary at the small circular kitchen table, eating some stewed venison and rice as I read through the entries. At the end, Will Lenning said the Twisted Man had been trying to guide him somewhere, that, in fact, the Twisted Man had been trying to protect him from some great evil, rather than being the source of it.
I scoffed, feeling a flash of anger at his stupidity. His naivety obviously led to his death. But then a flash of insight struck me like lightning.
What if I was committing the same kind of stupidity? Perhaps I should just grab my gun and valuables and leave. I could take off on the snowmobile and be in town within a couple hours.
But, in my heart, I knew I would not. Something about the mystery of all this beckoned me to stay. Like a siren leading sailors to destruction, my curiosity called out to me, and I knew I would not be leaving that night. I needed answers.
And, sadly, I would find them.
***
I had fallen asleep with an empty bottle of beer in my hand. I sat in front of the TV, which only got satellite reception. There were, of course, no cable or phone lines threading their way through the forest. All of my power came from stored solar energy. Since I rarely watched TV and really only used it to cook or heat up water for bathing, the energy produced was sufficient even in winter. Tonight, though, I needed its sound, its mindless flashing of light and colors and canned laughter. It seemed to drive away the creeping, suffocating presence like a candle.
I woke suddenly. The TV flashed with static. The repetitive hissing of the white noise spit from the speakers like thousands of snakes. I glanced up at the clock. 3:33 AM. I looked around the dark cabin, confused for a long moment. I didn’t understand what had woken me so abruptly. The satellite had never gone out before, either, even with the howling winds and freezing hail of the Alaskan winter.
The TV started flickering as if the static were rising upwards. Black lines traced their way horizontally across the screen. The hissing deepened into a gurgle, and for a second, I thought I heard faint words behind the white noise. I thought I heard breathing, slow and diseased, like the death gasp of a drowning man.
A black line rose across the TV and an image came into view. The cabin was suddenly plunged into silence, except for the shrieking, wintry wind outside. I leaned close to the screen, confused at what I was looking at. It looked like a live camera feed of a room. As I took in the details, I realized it was my cabin. I saw myself in the chair, leaning close to the screen. I raised my hand, and the miniature version of me on the screen did likewise. Ice water seemed to drip down my spine as waves of dread coursed through my body.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered, looking back to where the camera should be. It was just a coarse wooden ceiling in that corner. I turned back to the screen and nearly screamed.
The TV showed a pale, naked man crouching directly behind my chair now. With jerky movements, he rose, his broken spine twisting and shivering. A hissing voice rang out from the speakers. It spoke as if it had dirt and writhing maggots in its throat.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death,” it gurgled. “Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
Long, broken fingers with blackened nails reached out to touch my shoulders. I jumped out of the chair, stumbling back as I spun around in terror. My back smashed into the TV, and it fell to the floor with a shattering of glass and an explosion of light.
In those few moments before the darkness descended on me like a blanket, I thought I glimpsed a pale, sunken face with rotted, blackened eyes peeking out from behind the chair.
***
I turned on every light in the cabin, but there was no sign of the Twisted Man now. I knew I had to get out of there, though. I thought about the warning that the voice had spoken. If the creature wanted to attack me, then why hadn’t it just killed me while I was sleeping? None of it made sense. Who was watching me? The Twisted Man? And if he was, why warn me? Perhaps it was psychological warfare, I thought to myself. Perhaps the Twisted Man simply liked to play with his food before he ate it.
Thoughts raced through my head at a thousand miles an hour as I threw on snow pants and a couple heavy sweaters and coats. I covered up my entire body as much as I could to try to prevent frostbite. I had made up my mind to flee. There was no snowstorm tonight, though the entire landscape was blanketed in it and I knew the wind chill would be like an ice blade whipping against my skin. It was extremely dangerous to travel in the middle of the night like this in temperatures that might reach negative thirty degrees. Steve had been right, after all- Alaska had the highest missing persons rate of any state, and many of them were never found, their bodies likely frozen solid in the deep snow dozens of miles from the nearest town.
I grabbed my shotgun, jumped on my snowmobile and started heading to Steve’s cabin. I hoped I could wait there until the sunrise and then figure out what to do next.
But fate would take the decision out of my hands.
***
I felt like there were eyes watching me as I drove along the narrow, winding deer trail. The boughs of the evergreens reached into the path like greedy hands, grabbing at my coat and legs. More than a couple times, I thought I saw a pale, naked figure standing in the snow, but it had always gone when I turned to look.
I gave a sigh of relief when Steve’s place appeared in the distance. I could see the lights twinkling through the small windows of his log cabin. I pulled up next to his door, looking down. I saw two pairs of footprints there, one much smaller than the other. I found it odd, but shrugged it off. The snowmobile cut out with a sucking gurgle.
I knocked on the door hard a few times. Steve appeared after a few moments, groggy and half-dressed. He blinked slowly as he looked me up and down. His wrinkled face fell into a frown.
“Steve, I need a favor,” I said quickly. “Something weird is happening in my cabin. Can I stay here until morning, until maybe I can go to town or something? I can’t stay at my place tonight. I just can’t.” He nodded, yawning and motioning me in.
“You can sleep on the couch, I guess,” Steve said. “Put that shotgun somewhere safe, though, boy.” He had a partitioned bedroom in his cabin. It was significantly larger than my little one-room cabin, though it was basically still just a joint kitchen-living room, a small bedroom and a bathroom. He pointed to a well-worn couch in the corner and gave me an apathetic wave as he stumbled back into his bedroom, slamming the door.
I couldn’t sleep, though. I tiptoed around the room, looking at Steve’s bookshelf. He had a rather strange taste in books- lots of Anne Rule and true crime there. I saw dozens of books about Ted Bundy, John Wayne Gacy, Richard Chase, Herbert Mullin, Jeffrey Dahmer and Richard Ramirez among the collection. At the end, a large, black binder stood, unlabeled and worn-looking. It reminded me of the look of that leather-bound diary for a second, and my heart dropped. But logically, I knew this was just a coincidence. Yet, still, I pulled out the binder, my curiosity piqued.
What I found inside filled me with dread and horror.
Countless news clippings covered the length of it. The first clipping was from nearly twenty years earlier, about a woman who went missing in the Alaskan forest while hiking. A later one confirmed that her body was never found, and that her family was still hoping that she might turn up alive somewhere. A reward was offered for any information, it said.
And every page after that was more of the same: missing woman, murdered prostitute, missing man, no leads. I kept flipping through until I found clippings about Will Lenning’s suicide and the sudden disappearance of his wife. On the article about the suicide, Steve had used red marker to scrawl, “HA HA!” next to it.
I heard the click of a gun being cocked from behind me. I froze as Steve’s voice traveled across the room like a whisper.
“How do you like my work, friend?” he asked, his tone jovial and mocking.
***
I still held the binder of horrors tightly in my hands as I stared open-mouthed at this man I thought I knew.
“It’s you? What, you killed Will Lenning and his wife? And a lot of other women, apparently.” Everything felt unreal, as if I were stuck in a dream. Steve’s grin spread across his face, but his blue eyes stayed cold and dead.
“Yes, well, she was cheating on him with me anyway. Just another whore, you know. They always get what’s coming to them in the end,” he hissed with hatred oozing from his voice. “It’s too bad, really. I just killed another slut tonight. I was planning on saving you for later. The urge isn’t too bad yet right now, after all. It comes in cycles, you see. It comes in waves…” I saw a glimmer of pale, naked flesh writhing behind Steve. With jerky movements, the Twisted Man came up behind him. I said nothing, just watching with wide-eyed horror and amazement.
“You need help, man,” I whispered. Steve laughed.
“Help? The only help they give people like me is a needle in the arm. You know that. That’s why it’s important to always cover your tracks…” The Twisted Man ran a long, broken finger across Steve’s neck. Steve gave a strangled cry and jumped. He spun around, screaming. I glanced over at my shotgun next to the couch.
I jumped for it as Steve turned back to me, firing his pistol twice. The first bullet soared high above me, raining wood splinters down on my head, but the second ripped into my leg. A cold, burning pain ran like fire up my shin. I screamed in agony and battle fury as I gripped the shotgun, spinning and firing.
Steve’s head exploded as the slug ripped through his brain. His forehead collapsed like a smashed melon as bone splinters and blood sprayed the wall behind him.
The Twisted Man stood there, hunched over, grinning up at me. I felt warm blood gushing from my leg as I stared back at him, breathing hard. I wondered if I was dying.
“You… you weren’t after me at all, were you?” I asked. “You were after… Steve.” But the Twisted Man said nothing. After a long moment, he slinked back into the shadows of the bedroom and disappeared.
***
As night crawled its way toward morning, I thought back to the words the Twisted Man had spoken through the TV, suddenly understanding everything.
“He is a killer. The shadow of death. Many have fallen. Many lie buried across this forest. You will be next. He is watching you…”
He hadn’t been trying to hurt me at all. He had been trying to warn me. He had probably tried to warn Will Lenning and his wife, too.
I wrapped my leg in gauze, gritting my teeth. The wound looked puckered and deep, but I could still move my foot, and the bullet had gone clean through the flesh. I poured alcohol on it, screaming in pain as it burned its way through my skin. After rummaging through Steve’s bathroom, I found some prescription painkillers and swallowed a handful of them with a beer. I knew I would need the opiate high to get through the pain of riding into town with a mutilated leg.
As the Sun finally rose, I made my way outside the blood-stained floors of the cabin to my snowmobile. Before I left, I glanced back at that horrid place, the scene of so much torment and death.
In the open doorway, the Twisted Man stood, his back hunched, his rotted lips grinning at me. His hand lifted up into the air with jerky movements and waved.
I waved back as I started the engine and headed into town.
submitted by CIAHerpes to horrorstories [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 00:24 StillChillTrill Men in Black and Marvel SAIC and False Claims Act Settlements

Men in Black and Marvel SAIC and False Claims Act Settlements
Hello and thanks for reading.
THE PURPOSE OF THIS POST
Recently, Rep. Anna Paulina Luna mentioned she was "men-in-blacked". I find the MIB to be fascinating as a peripheral phenomenon to UAPs. Not only do they produce absolute bangers, but they are also one of the most obscure elements of this whole thing. Everyone appears to disagree on what they are (which is by design), it's even more interesting when you consider how long MIB sightings have occurred and the fact that it's not a US centric phenomenon. Many others have done extensive (and grounded) research into the MIB phenomenon and have arrived at interesting conclusions (paraphrased):
It becomes evident that encounters with the Men in Black can be broadly categorized into two types. The first implies interest from government entities in gathering information from witnesses and ensuring silence. The second type of encounter tends to manifest promptly after a UFO sighting. Numerous documented cases substantiate this distinction, suggesting a blend of both types of encounters. Once again, the UFO phenomenon appears to highlight its connection with our consciousness.
I don't know what the MIB are, I've never met one. But I think OP of this post is probably correct in that it's many things all at once. Funny how our perception creates that conundrum in all areas of our lives huh?! A user asked an interesting question months ago:
Is it possible that these men are working for the DoE (Department of Energy)?
I thought this was a fascinating theory, especially since you have people like Jonathan Weygandt stating that DOE was present at the Peru 1997 Crash. I know some have pointed toward CIA Office of Global Access, they've also said it's ex-military members employed by private aerospace, others have said it's the US Airforce Special Operations, some say JSOC is involved, at this point, who isn't?
I DIDN'T KNOW THE MIB FRANCHISE WAS MARVEL IP
I don't purport to know who the MIB are, but I think we can arrive at a mutual conclusion. In reality, it could be any entity with the capability of purchasing suits and hired guns if a need arose? The boogieman already exists, why not use it if you needed to? Truthfully, it aligns with the tactic utilized most often in this topic: Hide things in plain sight by adding to the discourse.
I had no idea MIB was one of Marvel's first big successes. I find it fascinating that recent documentaries and rumblings have many parallels to Marvel's Hydra story about Nazi's running a shadow government in the US. This Netflix documentary is called the Octopus Murders. In the Marvel universe, this is the fictional evil Nazi org Hydra's logo:
https://preview.redd.it/wsx0ah0trz3d1.png?width=474&format=png&auto=webp&s=8393b40de2e2e4efc3717b649100fb615d89e5d1
POST WORLD WAR 2 AMERICA SAW NAZIS RISE TO POWER IN PROMINENT POSITIONS
Post WWII, Operation Paperclip injected Nazi scientists/military/businessman into many positions of great authority across America.
The easiest example to highlight is Werner Von Braun, one of the developers of the V-2 Rocket. He eventually got an awesome job at NASA, and helped design the Apollo Saturn V. According to his Wikipedia Page. He worked with Walt Disney on a series of films, which popularized the idea of human space travel in the U.S. and beyond from 1955 to 1957. Would it surprise you that the military and intelligence community consult on media projects from time to time?
I wonder if he ever shared any multiverse ideas that sat in Disney's idea vault until the Marvel purchase?
As I dug into the history of some institutions, there appeared to be a significant amount of overlap between individuals implicated in the UFO coverup and Nazism. I also find it interesting that some of the content creators close to the UFO/UAP/NHI topic are beginning to speak on this specific aspect: Nazism in the early days of America's Intelligence apparatus and MIC.
HOW CAN SOMETHING SO BIG BE HIDDEN
My first question when I began to look into this topic was, "How on earth could they fund this?" no pun intended. Then I remembered how ridiculous of a question that was. We may not know where the money is, but somebody does. And it's a lot of money. When I say "a lot," I mean literally tons and tons of money. When I began pondering the avenues for funding based on the implied economic scale, I felt that it would need to be more complex than just misappropriations of funds.
This would have to involve points in time where people knowledgeable of the program had total control over the legislation that's passed. This would enable smart people to alter the financial, legal, and tax environments over time in a way that facilitated this funding. Grusch said the Manhattan Project framework was used for the UFO reverse engineering program. The primary architects of the Manhattan Project seem to be in close proximity to UFO related incidents during that era. Read this post for more information on the tendrils the high-ranking members of the Manhattan Project had in all thing's nuclear development post WWII.
The Manhattan project is the easiest example to point to when people challenge the possibility of secrets at scale. It cost billions, employed hundreds of thousands, and was funded without the general populace knowing what was going on. Most people think of the Manhattan Project because of the bomb, but when I think about the Manhattan Project, I think about public utilities (TVA) declaring eminent domain on land that was identified as the build site for Oak Ridge National Laboratories.
FALSE CLAIMS ACTS ARE IMPORTANT
It's been long said that these secrets were buried in nuclear power legislation, but from my perspective, it appears that the government has actually been picking apart this onion from many angles. Alot of the fun stuff has been going on since the early 2000's. According to the Justice Department, False Claims Acts are a serious issue. There is quite the Venn diagram of companies implicated in UFO claims over the years, and some of the companies that have FCA settlements. Just last year, the Dept of Justice busted Booz Allen Hamilton in one of the largest procurement fraud cases ever.
Defense contractors' partner on business all the time. Defense contractors sometimes cheat the system when they partner like that. It's extra serious when government employees are involved, like the ones identified in that link. According to that article that was last updated September of 2014, The Justice Department's total recoveries in False Claims Act cases since January 2009 exceeded $7.8 billion.
That particular SAIC case changed the game:
"The SAIC case also raised the issue of how to apply the False Claims Act’s scienterstandard to corporate entities. A person can be liable under the statute for making false claims only if one has knowledge of their falsity. Under the False Claims Act"
Later in that link:
The False Claims Act does not impose liability on those who make innocent mistakes or are simply negligent. However, when dealing with corporate defendants, drawing the line between “negligence” and “deliberate ignorance” of information can be difficult. As the SAIC court recognized, there may be situations where corporate managers have intentionally structured their organizations so that certain employees will not learn certain information, allowing the corporation plausible deniability against charges of fraud.
Here's SAIC settling for 5.75 million in 2013. Here's 11.75 million more in 2013. It was a busy time, they had a lot going on with the company splitting into Leidos and SAIC. Here's SAIC getting dinged another 6 million in 2020. They have been involved in quite a few of these types of settlements. It certainly makes you wonder what the DOJ is investigating SAIC for this time.
SAIC IS AN INTERESTING COMPANY, KNOWN FOR IT'S AWESOME CEO AND FOUNDER
The company's first contract was to analyze nuclear weapons.
SAIC was founded in 1969 with less than half a dozen employees and a $10,000 capital injection. SAIC grew to be one of the largest employee-owned companies in America. Beyster revolutionized business by building a company based on a wild premise, it would be owned by it's employees, not it's investors. Allowing little external oversight in how funds we're being used. No earnings calls, no need to disclose what's being worked on. He even wrote the book on employee-ownership. He popularized terms like "radical transparency". Robert Beyster (SAIC's founder) was really interesting, he wasn't a traditional CEO in many ways. He didn't believe in long-term planning.
Instead of wasting time with multi-year roadmaps and PowerPoint presentations, Beyster relied on his instinct and that of his workforce. When a promising business opportunity came along, SAIC would open a temporary new office close to the clients to help a division win the business. If all went according to plan, the office would become permanent. If not, it would be dissolved, and its people would start hunting for new opportunities on fresh ground.
When Beyster left in 2004, the progressive culture went with him. Within 18 months, SAIC went for an IPO. It was transformed into public company; its entrepreneurial and ownership culture — the key driver of success for all those years — was dismantled.
BEYSTER WAS VERY FAMILIAR WITH ATOMIC ENERGY
Robert Beyster was a huge proponent for Nuclear Energy. The University of Michigan's Nuclear Engineering Laboratory facilities are dedicated to his legacy. It's difficult to find much online about his pre-SAIC days but maybe someone has time to visit these archives and see what's there. Here's a few paragraphs from this link.
As he prepared to graduate from high school, the United States entered World War II, and he enlisted in the Navy. He was sent by the Navy to the University of Michigan, where he was enrolled in the V12 Officer Training Program. He was commissioned as an ensign, and eventually served on a destroyer based in Norfolk, Virginia, before leaving the service six months later. He received his BSE in engineering and physics (1945), and master’s (1947) and doctorate (1950) degrees in physics, from the University of Michigan.
In the early 1950s, Dr. Beyster worked briefly for the Westinghouse Atomic Power Division on the company’s nuclear submarine program. He soon followed many of his college associates to New Mexico to work as a research physicist at the Los Alamos National Laboratory, where he met his wife to be, Betty Jean Brock. The couple were married in Austin, Texas, in September 1955. In 1957, Bob joined General Atomic in La Jolla, as chair of the Accelerator Physics Department, where his research on neutron thermalization led him to co­author the book Slow Neutron Scattering and Thermalization (with D.E. Parks, M.S. Nelkin, and N.F. Wikner; Addison Wesley Longman, 1970).
In 1969 Dr. Beyster raised money to start SAIC by investing the proceeds from selling stock he had received from General Atomic, combined with funds raised from the early employees who bought stock in the young enterprise. Initially, the company’s focus was on projects for the US government related to nuclear power and weapons effects study programs. As SAIC grew, Dr. Beyster fought to preserve the values that had made the young company successful—employee ownership, entrepreneurship, a flexible and decentralized organizational structure, technical excellence, high standards of ethical conduct, and a firm belief in customer service.
He was a member of the National Academy of Engineering, a fellow of the American Physical Society, and served the US Strategic Command Strategic Advisory Group. He also served as chair emeritus of the board of directors of the UC San Diego Foundation. The Defense Advanced Research Project Agency (DARPA) designated Dr. Beyster an Honorary Program Manager for his distinguished contributions to the agency over his career.
CONCLUSION
Men in Black and Marvel
Operation Paperclip brought Nazis to America. They infiltrated high-level positions in the government, military, and intelligence apparatus, and then they used their authority to obfuscate information, consolidate power, and ultimately direct the development of technology, industry, and economy in this country. Disney and Werner Von Braun worked together to shape American understanding of space. I find it interesting that Marvel also founded the MIB franchise.
SAIC and False Claims Act Settlements
Employee-owned companies like SAIC allowed facilitation of R&D without exposing financial information that would raise eyebrows. ESOP would allow enough obfuscation to be able to hide things internally since the financials don't need to be reported, as a private company. They even admitted that design was intentional for that exact reason in court. When they went public, they started being hit with the FCA cases.
submitted by StillChillTrill to UFOs [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 00:14 1234Throwaway_doodlz Polin fanfic - what if Debling proposes and Penelope accepts, then Colin arrives at the ball?

Like many of us, I was frustrated at season 3 part 1 not delivering what I was craving. Is it worth writing out the scenes from the bullet point outline to make a full story? What if Colin arrived at the S3E4 ball after Debling proposes instead? Here's how it might play out...
Lord Debling gazed intently “You look especially beautiful tonight, Ms. Featherington.” He tensed, nostrils flared briefly, then a look of resolve “Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” Penelope’s head spun along with her dress. “Y-yes my Lord” she laughed nervously and looked down. She took a deep breath and looked up at him, and smiled emphatically “Yes, I will.” Lord Debling grinned, slipped a ring on her finger and raised her hand on the air, signaling the band to stop playing. Excuse me, but I have good news! Ms. Featherington has accepted my marriage proposal!”
Hesitant applause broke out, smiles and whispers from all corners of the room. Lady Danbury surveyed the room, then smacked the balcony floor with her cane. “Right! A splendid match calls for another dance!” The orchestra struck up a romantic waltz, and they started to whirl around the floor again.
Eloise fidgeted, avoiding Cressida’s pouting stare. Suddenly Cressida straightened and remarked “How interesting!” Eloise quickly replied “What is?” just as she saw him. Her brother, Colin, walking right up to Penelope and Lord Debling in the middle of their dance. She thought he had decided to stay home! Colin bowed slightly “Excuse me, may I interrupt?”
Colin hurriedly walked down the hallway towards the drawing room. Who could be calling for him so late in the afternoon? His breath caught in his chest to see Penelope staring out the window at her childhood home. He stared wordlessly as she spun and breathlessly declared. “Colin, Lord Debling has fallen ill and I must go to him in Canada. Please, I have no male relative that could go with me. Will you accompany me?”
He blinked, then recovered his manners and bowed. She curtsied and her eyes flitted around the room, then back to his fixed gaze on her.
Colin mused “Going alone may not be wise. I cannot be the cause of anyone thinking anything untoward of you.”
She paced towards him “Colin, please, I beg of -“
“However, Benedict will accompany us if I ask him, I am certain of it. I need only convince him first, but he is my brother and I do know his secrets after all,” smirked Colin, leaning in with a twinkle in his eye.
Penelope’s lips parted and eyelashes fluttered, startled at the sudden humor. Then she laughed, and he grinned broadly at her. Secrets indeed. She wondered if he might understand her as Lady Whistledown after all.
Colin bowed, “Forgive me the impertinence, but I only wanted to lift your spirits as you so often have lifted mine. I will go with you to help your…husband.” He fell backwards a step, as if pushed. “Well then, I’m off to find Benedict and if all goes well, we will leave early tomorrow morning.”
Benedict wrinkled his brow and nudged the edge of the gangplank in the faint dawn light. “I have not availed myself of sea travel, as my younger brother loves to carry on about,” said Benedict, as he stared up at the ship. Colin clapped his shoulder and offered his arm to Penelope. “You will love it brother, although our destination is beyond what even I could have imagined seeing in all of Europe. So much still uncharted and no sight of land for weeks!” Benedict angled his upper body towards him in disbelief, then heaved an exasperated sigh and threw up his hands. As he trudged up the ramp, he tossed over his shoulder “You’re not helping!”
Colin grinned and gazed down at Penelope clasping his arm, but she seemed lost in thought. When she caught his gaze, she ducked her head and smiled shyly, “We should get settled as soon as we board. It’s a long journey ahead.” Colin placed his hand on top of hers and tenderly said “All will be well. I – we – will be with you the entire journey. Have faith, Pen.
What do you think should happen next? Should I keep developing the bullet points?
submitted by 1234Throwaway_doodlz to Bridgerton [link] [comments]

2024.06.02 00:13 Money-Independence-3 I got a job as a security guard, something is under the warehouse.

When I first took this job, I never could have predicted what would happen. After all the years of training and the experiences that I have had throughout my life, I am pretty good at being prepared for the worst. But before I begin this story, a little bit about myself.
I was a bit of a troubled child some might say. I lost both my parents to a car accident when I was 2. After that, I bounced from foster home to foster home. I blame it on the system. Almost every foster home I was put in was terrible. The parents were only doing it for the money and barely took care of the foster children. And when Social Services came, you think they listened to the children? No. But, I took on a personality that did help throughout this time. I decided that I wouldn't take shit from anyone. When some of the foster homes' actual children tried to bully me or other foster kids, they very quickly learned not to after several broken bones. In addition, I took this attitude to the public schools. Bullies would pick on the weak, and they would suddenly have broken noses and fingers. But, since it was the public school the bullies were not punished. Only me. However when the bullies would see me or get close to their victims while I was around they would quickly go the other way. This went on for the entirety of my youth. I never had a plan for my life. All I knew was that I was unwanted anywhere, and had nowhere to go. But one day, I was passing by the living room, and I saw a commercial on the tv that changed my life's course. It was an ad to join the United States Marine Corps. After this, I found a new purpose for my life. Unfortunately I was 15 at the time. But I immediately started training myself physically and mentally for this new course. I studied at the public library since I wasn't allowed to use the foster home's computer. I started working out at the high school's gym after class. And finally at 18 I joined the Corps. The next 8 years were the best of my life. After boot camp, MCT (Marine Combat Training), and SOI (School of Infantry) I soon learned about the Raiders. Which is Marine Corps special forces. I immediately put in for it and got selected. I was able to go to several foreign countries and fight many battles. All of my fellow Marines were the greatest family I ever had. Once I was at the end of my second enlistment I decided it was time for me to enter the civilian world again. At that time, we had a bad mission and I lost my closest friends. So I did what anybody in this situation does. I found a reasonably inexpensive apartment and drank excessively for the next month. Once I felt that my liver had been well punished, I began searching for a job. Now, money was not an issue for me at this time. I had plenty in savings to last most people a couple of years. While I was in the military, I never really bought anything since I knew I would be traveling all over. I also still had money saved from the insurance when my parents passed all those years ago that I refused to spend. So I tried finding a job that I would fit into given my skill sets. After some time I found what I was looking for. It was a position within a security company that provides its services to companies in both the private sector as well as government facilities. I immediately applied and got accepted. For the next year after this, I was able to complete some training required for the job and bought my own house in Nevada. I worked as a fill in guard for multiple high ranking officials here and there within my state. But one day, I was given a position that would alter my perception of reality forever.
“John!” my boss bellowed as he entered the locker room. I had been getting my gear, body armor, and rifle ready to head to the meeting room. I look up and see this mountain of a man standing in the doorway with a large jolly smile on his face. “Got a job for you” he continued, waving a file in his hand. “What's the Job?” I asked while doing my best to give back a friendly grin. I've been told I’m not great at expressing my emotions. But I’ve been trying. “Well, good news. It's a government facility that needs a pair of guards.” My ears perked up as he said this. “Where at?” I asked with some excitement in my voice. “A warehouse in the desert just outside of the town where you live.” My shoulders drop a little with disappointment. “What sort of warehouse is it?” I ask. “It is a government funded science facility. Something about monitoring seismic activity in the area. During the evening, you and one other guard will be posted there to watch over the equipment.” I thought for a moment and I remembered the place he was talking about. About 5 miles from my home on the outskirts of town, there is a fenced off plot of land that has one large building out in the middle. I had always driven past it on the way to a rifle range and saw the no trespassing signs on the fence and didn't think much of it. “What's the uniform situation?” I ask. “Standard Polo, slacks, and duty belt.” “Body armor and weapons?” I asked, already feeling the boredom seeping in. “None required. You can wear soft armor if it makes you feel better. But there will be a locker with shotguns as a last resort. Aside from that, just your nightstick.” It is at this point I let out a disappointed sigh. After a long moment I look up and ask, “why did you pick me specifically for this position?” He looks at me with that unwavering smile and says, “well, nobody wanted to volunteer for it. So I decided to volun-tell the first person I saw this morning.” He leans over and gives me a strong pat on the back and walks out. I sigh again, take off my usual gear and just dress in the uniform he told me. I do grab my soft armor though. With my duty belt and the file in hand, I head to my SUV. Opening the file, there was the basic information about the warehouse and a padlock key labeled “Front gate”. I shake my head and begin my drive to this warehouse. Luckily, this place was in between home and our headquarters. So once I started this job, at least I wouldn't have to drive as much.
I pulled up to the gate and pulled out the key that was provided with the file. After entering and securing the gate, I look toward the building and see two vehicles parked out front. One large gray sedan and a red prius. Once I pulled up, a round looking man alongside a woman that was wearing our security uniform stepped out of the building and headed toward me. “Welcome!” the man said with a blinding smile. Man, these morning people really are something else. The woman approached me with an equally bright smile holding out her hand. “You must be my new partner. I'm Stacy. Nice to meet you.” “Likewise.” I said, shaking her hand and trying to put on my friendliest smile. Stacy, on first impressions, has a very friendly personality. She had fairly light brown hair and emerald green eyes. She stood roughly a foot shorter than myself, and her physique is slender and well toned while still being curved in a very attractive way. What caught my attention was the fact that, despite her size and stature, she carried herself with a sense of confidence while not trying to be overly imposing. The man that was there I could only describe as plump. He was about 2 inches shorter than Stacy. He had a balding head with a very poor attempt at a comb over. “Well then, Mr. Miller.” He said. “Just John is fine.” I responded. “Alright John. You can call me Bill. Now that we are acquainted, let's begin the tour.” He turned around and headed to the main entrance. Upon entering, I quickly identified the four quadcons and large mobile research vehicle parked in the center. There were dirty tire tracks leading from the large double doors to the vehicle. “Here is the research equipment you will be guarding. Every evening, once the scientists put their equipment away, you will be responsible for verifying that all of the locks are secured. The keys will be given to you and placed in a lockbox that is kept in your office.” Glancing to the right, I saw what I assumed to be our office. It was a small shack built into the side of the main building. Beckoning us toward it, Bill said, “and over here is where you will likely be spending most of your time.” In the office, there was a long desk with large windows looking out to the interior of the warehouse. At the back there was a small restroom that was surprisingly clean. And, what I was looking for, at the back corner was a locked green weapons locker that housed two Mossberg 500 pump action shotguns. Next to that was a small table with walkie talkies on charging stations. Above the charging station were two flat screen TVs with the video feed of security cameras monitoring both the inside and outside of the building. On the desk was a land line telephone, coffee pot, and a microwave. Underneath was a minifridge and a locking filing cabinet. Bill motioned to the cabinet, “This is where the keys to the storage units and truck will be kept with at least one of you having the key to it nearby. All the amenities are available to use, the AC works, and the chairs are comfy.” He grinned proudly like a child that had just finished his chores. “And if you'll follow me,” he said exiting the office door. As we followed, he went around the office shack where a side by side ATV was parked. Attached to it was a spot light on the front and an extra fuel container in the back. “This will be your steed” Bill says with exaggerated grandeur. “You will be able to use this to go around the compound if needed. Just log your driving so we know when the fuel needs to be replenished. Now, over here,” turning on his heel, he walked toward the opposite end of the warehouse. In this direction was a door labeled Janitors closet. Opening it, there were shelves of cleaning supplies, a push broom, and a wheeled bucket with a mop in it. “You can use these if you need to. There are cleaners that take care of the whole building during the day.” Well, at least we won't be doubling as janitors. Bill clapped his hands together, “do you have any questions?” He began walking back toward the office. “Do you get much disturbance out here that requires guarding?” I asked. “Well, the equipment and research is funded by the government. So they want to be sure nothing gets taken. As far as the disturbances, there are the occasional teenagers that try to sneak onto the property at night to do whatever teens do these days.” “What sort of research is being done here?” Stacy asked. We got back to the office and Bill leaned on the wall sweating and out of breath. “I don't know all the details. But it has something to do with monitoring the seismic readings in order to predict earthquakes or something. But I'm sure they can explain it better.” He pulled out a white cloth and wiped his head. I guess he used all his energy for the introduction. At that moment, we heard the crunching of graven as more vehicles pulled up outside. “Speak of the devil” Bill put the cloth away and looked at his watch. Through the window of the office the clock on the wall read nine in the morning. “If you follow me, we can meet the researchers.” For the next several minutes, we were introduced to the lead researcher Mike and his four grad students. Once introductions were finished, they loaded up the large truck and headed out to the desert. “Allright,” Bill said again, clapping. “You will be on guard during the night. Be here at six this evening. for the start of your shift. At six in the morning we will have two other guards relieve you during the day.” He headed over to the red Prius. “If you have any other questions, my cell number is in your files. Good luck” He hopped in and drove off leaving the two of us standing in front of the building. “Well,” Stacy said after a moment of silence. “I look forward to working with you, and I guess I'll see you tonight.” I nodded at this. “See you then.” We both left the site for the day. It turned out that Stacy and I both lived in the same town not too far apart. At least the company chose guards that live close to the site to save on driving.
The next four weeks were fairly uneventful. On the first night, we were able to talk with the researchers. Their explanation was the same as Bill had said. They were monitoring the seismic reading to predict earthquakes. But when the lead researcher said that, I got the sense that there was more to it. After some interrogation tips that I got from a CIA member that was stationed in Syria with me, I began to get good at knowing when someone was lying or withholding information. But, I didn't press the issue. If this was something more serious, there would be alot more security than two guards at a time with minimal equipment. After some deliberation with Stacy, we came up with a routine for our shifts. Every hour, one of us would take a walk around the inside of the warehouse. And every four hours one of us would take the ATV and do a patrol around the perimeter of the fence. The whole drive takes about twenty minutes. As far as issues during this time, not much happened. Every once in a while a camera would go down and one of us would check on it. After either jiggling the cable or just resetting it, the feed would go back to normal. There was one night that we noticed some teens outside of the fence seemingly daring each other to climb over. After revving the ATV and hitting them with the spotlight, they decided to leave. But during our shifts I did get to learn more about Stacy. She is a near polar opposite to me. She is very cheerful and chatty. From what she told me, I learned that she was mostly raised by her grandfather who was a police officer for the majority of his life. She had great respect for him before his passing. She wanted to be just like him with his sense of justice and strength. However, she decided to become private security instead of a police officer. I did notice that she seemed to avoid the topic of her parents. From the different walks of life that I encountered within the military, I decided it was best not to press the topic. She also seemed to like the horror genre of stories and films. During our shifts we were allowed to bring things to pass the time. She would bring a wireless speaker and play music and something called creepypasta. I on the other hand would put in one ear bud with music and read a book when we were not chatting. During the first week, we did have to stand guard for the entire 7 days. But after that more guards were stationed at the warehouse for the weekend to give us time off. This did come with an issue. Stacy would ask to hang out during the weekend. She would want to go to the movie theater or get lunch somewhere. But when she asked, I would say that I had plans. Which isn't a lie, but it mostly consisted of meal prep, physical training, and going to a shooting range. The problem I had was this, I never had a girlfriend. While Stacy is both kind and beautiful, I have no idea how to proceed with this. I would only feel awkward. Despite this, she didn't seem to have any intention of giving up. She would still ask every Friday, and when I told her I was busy, she would say, “maybe next weekend then.”
It was Friday of the fifth week when it happened. Me and Stacy were five hours into our shift, and I had just gotten back from a patrol on the ATV. “See any of the Graboids that they are looking for?” Stacy asked, grinning. “I'm afraid not,” I said disappointedly. “Just the usual rodents and reptiles. Although maybe they turned to shriekers and left.” I grinned as well. After logging the patrol, I entered the office and picked up “The Art Of War” and continued reading where I left off. Stacy was listening to one of those creepypastas on her phone. It was about something called a Skinwalker hunting hikers in a national park. It seemed kind of interesting. Maybe I should start looking into these stories. “So,” Stacy said, pausing the video. “You wanna catch a movie this weekend?” Her emerald eyes glistened with anticipation. “Sorry. I have plans.” I responded. She sighed and slouched sadly. “Well. Maybe next weekend then.” I know if anyone saw me in this situation, they would be screaming at me. A beautiful woman is asking me if I want to spend time together outside of work. After this exchange we continued with our activities waiting for my alarm to go off signaling a patrol. It was at this moment when we felt a strong tremor beneath the warehouse. Feeling tremors wasnt that unusual for this area. Every once in a while we might feel a light one during our shifts. But this one was stronger than any other that we've felt. But before we could get under our desk expecting it to be an earthquake, it was already over. The whole thing had lasted less than a minute. We both sat back in our chairs and looked at each other with a sigh of relief. Soon our nerves were settled and we returned to our entertainment. Fifteen minutes later the alarm on my phone sounded. Stacy stood up stretching. “I'll take this one”, she said. I nodded in agreement and looked back at the camera feeds. The camera that overlooked the corner by the janitors closet was static. “Could you look at camera three when you walk by it?” I asked, pointing at the monitor. She nodded and gave a thumbs up. “Got it.” She grabbed a walkie off the charger and clipped it to her belt. Once she left the office, I returned to my book, occasionally glancing at the monitor. After a few minutes, I heard a click on my radio and then a door slam from the other side of the warehouse. I picked up the radio, “Stacy, you good?” I asked. From the way the office was positioned, the view of that closet is blocked by the truck and quadcons. I looked at the monitor and that camera was still out. “Stacy, you good?” I repeated. No answer. I grabbed my radio and a flashlight and headed out the office to check on her. My worry was that during that tremor, some of the cleaner spilled and she might have slipped on it hitting her head. I very quickly walked over to the closet. I didn't see Stacy anywhere, but her radio was on the floor by the door. I ran over and opened the door worried. But instead of seeing Stacy laying on the floor unconscious, there was a large hole on the concrete. I stood there for a moment trying to process what I was looking at. But remembering Stacy, I pulled out my flashlight carefully looking down the hole. Instead of going straight down, it went in at an angle almost like a tunnel. It was large enough for myself to crawl into if I needed to. “Stacy!” I yelled. “Are you down there?” No response. “Shit” I muttered to myself. I then got down and headed in.
The tunnel seemed to go down for at least twenty feet before leading into another much larger tunnel. Once there, I was surprisingly able to stand up with plenty of room. “I wonder if this is what those researchers were looking into.” I thought to myself. Looking left and right, this tunnel continued further than my flashlight could reach. “Stacy! Can you hear me?” I yelled. The only response I got was my own echo. Looking down, I tried to find any indication of the direction she might have gone. At first I didn't see anything. I did notice that there were drag marks in the dirt going left. No boot marks though. I made a mark in the dirt to indicate the tunnel back to the surface, and started down the left tunnel. For the next ten minutes, I was quickly walking my way through this dark tunnel, yelling Stacy's name all throughout. The tunnel kept going down and curving every now and then. But still no sign of Stacy. Eventually I came to a fork. It was here that the drag marks stopped. After calling Stacy's name a few more times, I knew I had to get to the surface and call for backup. As much as I hated the idea, I knew it was necessary. But right as I was about to turn and head back, I heard a scream. It was very faint, but it came from the right tunnel. Now that I had a direction, I decided to continue quicker than before. I traveled deeper and deeper into these unknown depths. It was at this point that I noticed a turn off up ahead going left. I knew that if there wasn't another sound at this intersection, that I would have to return. I got to the turn off and yelled for Stacy. After a few minutes I heard what sounded like footsteps coming toward me. “Stacy?” I yelled. I carefully walked forward. There was another sound. Heavy breathing. The tunnel turned right. As soon as I rounded the corner, I saw something straight out of a horror movie. It stood on all fours with short legs and long arms, head just about touching the ceiling at roughly eight feet in height. Its skin was an ashen gray color with small tufts of fur near the shoulders. The face and large ears reminded me of a bat. Its eyes were so white, they almost seemed to glow in the darkness. I got the sense that, while it couldn't see me, it knew I was there due to my yelling. As soon as I lock eyes with this creature, before I can do anything, it inhales and lets out an ear piercing shriek. I covered my ears, but it didn't do anything as my vision started to fade to black.
“Sergeant!” There was somebody yelling. “Sergeant Miller!” I opened my eyes and I was on the ground looking at the bright sky. Then a figure appeared reaching down to help me up. Corporal Johnson grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “You good sergeant?” He asked. “Yeah, I'm good!” I yelled back grabbing my rifle and getting back to the cover of the hummvee. As bullets riddled the opposite side of the vehicle, I went to the front and returned fire over the hood taking out two of the attackers. Johnson came up behind me doing the same. “The fifty is down, and Rodriguez is hit!” He yelled while reloading. I looked at the hummvee ahead of ours. The doors were open and I saw Corporal Smith messing with the radio while being covered by Private Williams. On the ground beside them was Rodriguez being treated by the Corpsman. I looked back to Johnson, “Cover me! I'm moving up”, I yelled to him. He nodded, racking his rifle. “Moving!” I yelled as I sprinted to the next vic. A couple of bullets hit near my feet. As soon as I got to the rear, I yelled, “set!” Johnson started running while I kept him covered. Once we were both there, we checked on Rodriguez. The corpsman looked up at me, “we need a medevac now!” He yelled holding a wound near the neck. I nodded quickly and got up to Smith who was yelling on the radio. I knelt down, “what's the ETA on those birds?” I asked. He shook his head angrily. “They are at least five minutes out!” He said cursing as a bullet hit the top of the door next to him. “We won't last that long! Just get on the 240 and fire back now!” I yelled in his ear. “Aye Sergeant!” Smith climbs into the hummvee and mounts the turret with the 240 machine gun firing back. I looked back at Johnson, “we need to get to the lead vic and mount the Mark 19!” I yelled back. Johnson gave me a devilish grin, “aye sergeant!” He yelled back. The lead hummvee was two vehicles ahead. With the help of Williams’ suppressing fire, we got to the second vic. “Just one more” I thought to myself. Johnson got ready to move to the next hummvee. I nod at him and get set for suppressing fire. “Moving!” He selled. Right as he started running there was a snap and he hit the dirt as blood started pooling by his head. “Sniper!” I yelled back to the others. But as soon as I looked back to where Smiths’ 240 was roaring, the entire hummvee exploded as an RPG detonated below it. A large piece of what I assume was the door, hit me in the helmet and I was back on the ground. I looked up with blurred vision seeing an attack helicopter unloading its payload toward the enemy placements. But as I blinked, there was a large face staring at me from across the street. An inhuman face. Almost like a bat. I start to remember what this thing is, just as my vision fades to black.
“Sergeant!” There was somebody yelling. “Sergeant Miller!” I opened my eyes and I was on the ground looking at the bright sky. Then a figure appeared reaching down to help me up. Corporal Johnson grabbed my hand and pulled me up. “You good sergeant?” He asked. “Yeah, I'm good!” I yelled back grabbing my rifle and getting back to the cover of the hummvee. As bullets riddled the opposite side of the vehicle, I went to the front and returned fire over the hood taking out two of the attackers. Johnson came up behind me doing the same. “The fifty is down, and Rodriguez is hit!” He yelled while reloading. I looked at the hummvee ahead of ours. The doors were open and I saw Corporal Smith messing with the radio while being covered by Private Williams. I looked back at Johnson. “Wait.” I thought to myself. “I-I was just here.” I watched as Johnson continued to make the same moves as he did in this memory. I stand up and look around as he runs to the next hummvee. I hear the corpsman yell about evac. Smith yelling about the ETA on the birds. “This,” I said to myself. “This was the last mission.” Then I remembered. A face. An inhuman face. I looked across the street where I saw it. I close my eyes and shake my head. When I opened my eyes, I was back in the darkness of a tunnel. The monster was now looming over me reaching out with its large clawed hand. I immediately jumped back out of its arms reach. The monster seemed surprised that its trance was broken. It began to inhale, readying another shriek. But before it could let out its scream, I drew the compact Sig pistol that I keep under my uniform and put two rounds between its eyes. Now when I asked the boss about having weapons, he said they weren't required. He didn't say I couldn't conceal one just in case. The creature slumped to the ground lifeless. Despite the ringing in my ears from the shot, I knew I had to continue forward to find Stacy. I looked down and was glad to see the footprints and drag marks were clear and continued forward. As I continued down the tunnels, the walls started to change. The texture went from the dirt and stone to a black and almost rubbery plastic. If I had to compare, it looked almost like the walls in that Aliens movie. That thought also unnerved me. Soon after noticing the changes, I started to hear a voice further down the tunnel. It was Stacy's voice. Faint, but there. I quickened my pace. The tunnel then seemed to open up into a large cavern. It was so large that my flashlight couldn't reach the opposite end. The walls had that same alien-like texture. I then noticed bulb-like growths attached to the walls. Walking to the nearest one I peered in. There was the remains of a human skeleton. From the looks of it, the bones were here for many years. The clothes, or what was left of them, looked similar to those I've seen in mining pictures from the 1800s. Moving forward, each bulb, or pod I guessed, had a similar sight. A human skeleton, no flesh remaining. They were all in a pose that suggested they all died screaming. At least, those that still had a jaw attached. After looking into the fifth one, I heard Stacy’s voice again from across the cavern. I immediately started walking in that direction. At that moment I looked up toward the ceiling and saw a nightmare. There were hundreds of those creatures attached and encased in similar pods. All seemingly asleep and ready to get out at a moment's notice. Off to the side, there were several of those bods that were empty. Immediately lowering my light, I hastened my pace as quietly as possible. At the end of the cavern, I saw the pale face of Stacy peeking out of what I now assumed were feeding pods. “No daddy, no.” She was muttering to herself quietly. “Don't hurt mommy.” I lifted her head up and her eyes were open but unfocused. “She must be in that trance” I thought to myself. Reaching to my belt, I pulled out a pocket knife and began cutting away at the pod. Luckily for me, whatever this was made of had not hardened yet. As soon as there was enough give, I pulled Stacy out and placed her on the ground. “Come on. Wake up Stacy.” I said quietly into her ear. After about a minute of speaking to her and giving a light sternum rub, her eyes finally came back into focus. “John?” She asked. I put my hand over her mouth and whispered into her ear, “Shh. We need to get out of here quietly.” I pointed the light up at the creature pods. Her eyes widened. Then she looked at me and nodded slowly. I removed my hand and helped her to her feet. She was a little wobbly. “Can you walk?” I asked. She nodded again and we began our track to the surface.
I took point and followed the tracks that led me here. Seeing me with my pistol aimed ahead Stacy asked, “are there more of them in the tunnels?” “Yeah.” I said gesturing up ahead at the carcass of the creature that I shot earlier. She nodded approvingly. She then pulled out her own Sig pistol from her waistband. I think I’m in love. We continued down the tunnels with haste. When we rounded one corner, another two more of the creatures were shuffling towards us. As soon as I saw them, I took a knee and put two rounds in the first one killing it. The second one climbed over the body and sped up taking a deep breath. But before I could fire at it, Stacy put three rounds into its head. I looked back at her and she was in a perfect shooter's stance the muzzle of her pistol still smoking. With our ears still ringing, I gave her a thumbs up and we continued. After some time, we finally reached the smaller tunnel leading up to the janitor's closet in the warehouse. We got out and looked around making sure that none of the creatures were waiting above. After clearing the building, we both sighed with relief. Stacy then started toward the office. “I'm going to call for backup,” she said. I shook my head. “No. We need to collapse that cavern before those things can get up here.” She looked at me with confusion. “And how do you expect us to do that? I doubt the researchers have explosives in their truck,” she said pointing at the vehicle. “Just follow me,” I said heading to the front door. Stacy hesitated and quickly followed. I immediately ran to my SUV and opened the rear. As soon as Stacy caught up, I opened the plastic cases and her eyes widened. “Take your pick,” I said gesturing toward the case full of guns and armor. After a moment, she grabbed a suppressed Honey Badger rifle, a glock 17, and a chest rig for spare magazines. I took my own Suppressed M4 rifle, glock 19, and my plate carrier. After we strapped on the gear, I handed her a pair of noise canceling headphones to help with the gunshots underground. “So, you usually carry this much gear?” Stacy asked, turning on the headphones. “Well,” I said. “You never know when you need it.” After putting on my own headphones, I pulled out a duffel bag from a much deeper compartment of the case. I set it on the ground and opened it. Stacy's eyes went even wider than before. “Is that?” she stammered. “Yep.” I said, looking down at the large bag full of plastic bricks marked as C4. “Where did you?” she started. “Let's just say I know a guy who knows a guy.” I responded, pulling out a detonator and making sure I had enough components. “Let's move.” I said, throwing the bag over my shoulder and loading my rifle. She nodded, loading her rifle.
Once we reentered the tunnel, the mics on the headphones were able to pick up the faint sounds of the creatures footsteps and distant shrieks. I looked back at Stacy, “ready.” I asked. “Let's go,” She responded. I placed a glow stick at the entrance and began the move forward. After only a few minutes of walking one of those creatures rounded a corner. As it did, it let out one of those ear piercing screams. But, fortunately for us, those headphones worked very well at canceling out the effect that it had. I grinned and promptly put two rounds between its eyes. After stepping over the body and rounded the corner, there were two more. “Shit,” I thought. “More of those pods must have opened.” Despite this revelation, we continued. Killing every creature along the way. Stacy did surprise me though. All of her moves were smooth and calculated. She clearly had more training than what the security company provided. Maybe I should ask her about it when we get out of here. She might make a good range buddy. It took twice as long to get to the cavern the second time. A couple of those creatures almost got the jump on us. They would wait around corners or try to attack from behind. I did get hit, but somehow it only damaged the armor plate. I did note that it went through the plate like butter. Definitely didn't want to get directly hit by that. Once we finally arrived at the cavern, there were more empty pods. And even more were starting to move. I dropped the duffel bag and gave Stacy some of the bricks and detonators. “You take that side and I'll take this one,” I told her. “Got it,” she said. I quickly showed her how to arm the device and we began planting. I put some of them in the empty food pods as well as sticking them to the wall. A couple of the pods burst open. I was quickly able to dispatch them. Once we finally finished planting the C4, we met back at the entrance of the cavern. I took out a timer and attached it to the wall. “We are going to have to run,” I said, punching in fifteen minutes. She took a deep breath and nodded. I nodded back and hit start. We bolted down the tunnels. The bodies of the creatures we killed on the way in, did slow us down. But I calculated that. A couple of them did try to ambush us, but we quickly put them down. Throughout this run, I was able to place a couple of the remaining C4 at key intersections in order to collapse the tunnels. We finally reached the last turn and saw the first glow stick up ahead. I glanced down at the timer on my watch. 5 minutes. “Perfect,” I thought, grinning to myself. I helped Stacy up the tunnel. “Keep going. I'll be right up.” I said. I knelt down and planted the last C4 charge at the base of the exit. I then began crawling up the tunnel. But just before my legs entered the hole, something grabbed my right foot and yanked me back down. It held me upside down and I was able to get a good look at my assailant. It was one of those creatures, but this one seemed bigger. There were scars all over its face and torso. “And you must be the leader,” I said. It snarled. My rifle was on my back so I couldn't grab it. It reared its other arm back and readied a slash. “I don't think so,” I said, drawing my pistol and dumping half the mag into its body. It let out one last scream dropping me and falling dead. I looked at my timer. 2 minutes. Shit. I dove into the tunnel and crawled up as fast as I could. When my head popped out, Stacy was there and she helped pull me out. I looked at her and quickly motioned to the door. “We need to haul ass!” I yelled. Without hesitation, she sprinted with me to the door. She passed me and slammed into the door opening it. I guess I'll need to work on my run time. As soon as I passed the threshold, I heard the beeping of my watch indicating the 5 second mark. We bolted toward the gate. Once we got there, the timer went off. There was a rumble underground as I knew the C4 had detonated. It was a moment later that the backside of the warehouse exploded, as the rest of it caved in. I noticed that a section of the desert seemed to sink slightly. That area was where the researchers seemed to spend the most time. I knew they were hiding something. I shook my head and looked back at our vehicles. Somehow, by some miracle, no debris had hit them. We glanced at each other and both let out a big sigh of relief. We began walking back to my SUV. “So,” I said. “What’s playing in the theater?” Stacy looked up at me, smiled and began laughing. I laughed too as she leaned on my shoulder. “Don't know. As long as it's not horror.” I put my arm around her shoulders. “I agree.”
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2024.06.01 23:23 Demon_Deity Marred Migration - Chapter 27

Memory Transcription Subject: Talyn, Extermination Guild Paramedic, Sivkit Grand Herd.
First/Previous/Next
I… I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out why a demon would go behind her superiors for some prey.
Variah hasn’t stopped visiting this cage… t-though, I try to limit exchanging words with the beast as her proximity gnaws at my nerves to no end. Her moving maw leaves an unobstructed view at a row of endless pointed teeth that could easily crush through Sivkit bones, if at any moment she deemed that her desire. However, after all this time… she hadn't mauled me yet.
Nor did any of the other, more openly wicked beasts let their instincts get the better of them either, so I suspect that these demons can reign in their bloodlust better than the Arxur can, a-at least for practical reasons, but I don't exactly want to put that to a test. D-Damnit, why is she doing this? It’s difficult to keep my mind off it when everything else was a failure.
I… I’ve been trying to find a way to break free ever since the predator keeping me company gave her warning about the rest of her kind. N-not that I needed any monster to clue me in on their malicious intent or more prompting to look for a way out of here, but so far, any avenue to escape seems completely futile, at least… f-for now. Can’t give up.
J-Just remember your training… t-though it’s not exactly useful here.
Most of my guild practice had me safely locked within a medical wagon, waiting around on standby in case a front line exterminator suffered a mauling. I- I don’t have enough personal experience with this sort of thing to keep myself level headed, t-to know what to do, b-but… but I’ve heard stories from my… f-from my now ex-colleagues, about retrieving escaped convicts back for treatment.
I- I could take a few pages out of their play book, copy how they got out of their facilities and avoid falling for the same pitfalls that got them found. E-Even if doing so would be more than unorthodox, but… I c-can’t just sit around forever.
Even if for now all I can do is watch out for opportunities, think and plan.
Occasionally, the scientists lead me out of this box to conduct new experiments. I was hoping to find something useful when taken from these confines but I'm always trailed by those towering guards who never take their vicious eyes off me, or let me step out of line… or even let the scientists come too close when not instructed to. The director's men, as I've heard the so-called doctors call them while whispering amongst themselves; e-evidently also afraid of the beastly soldiers.
T-There are cameras everywhere, in every hallway and almost in every room. The few that don’t have them always have a beast there present with me, rarely taking an eye off me, so I can’t bet on finding a blindspot outside this room.
Main doors are locked with codes and keycards, but that doesn't matter much because if I managed to get my paws on a set I'd need to carry around a damned stool to reach a security pad while standing on my hind toes because of these giant freaks. Not even knowing where any door leads since I can't read their scratchy script.
Worse yet, from what I could tell while eavesdropping…
This facility is built at least several levels underground, and it’s located near the outskirts of a m-major predator population center. Meaning that any exits going “topside” had to be intentionally dug out by design, and almost definitely surveyed by guards and cameras.
Only to be surrounded by a countless horde of sapient predators once I got out, a-and… given that I’m at the edge of a monster city and how untamed my crash area appeared, the zone marked for emergency landing for all falling vessels, I… I must have been taken far from any other Sivkit survivors on this planet.
C-Constantly watched, locked and isolated. E-Everything, everything is stacked up against me… D-Damnit, j-just, just move forward, k-keep thinking… I-Ironically, my best bet for escape might be in this very room.
A ventilation duct right behind the bed, t-the only one I could reach with pipes that look wide enough to squeeze into if I managed to get the grate off, c-climb up, if that’s p-possible, u- until I feel fresh air.
The glass screen is positioned on the other side of the bed, with the grate being obscured further by the counter at the bedside and I’ve noticed that the cameras start moving back and forth at night, or at least, when the lights shut off, possibly going into an automated mode when the beasts stop watching the cell… t- the demons have to sleep too at some point I suppose, n-no better time to try.
Every couple of minutes as the cameras move, the lenses line up away from the bed for a few seconds at a time, granting me one consistent blindspot where I could fiddle with the screws if I kept my paw hanging off the bed when pretending to sleep.
But the damned grate is bolted in too tight.
I tried using my claws as an improvised screwdriver, wedging them into the divots and twisting… but those attempts only cost me a few nails with nothing to show for it. So if I had kept it up eventually the predators could notice that all my claws were suddenly wearing away. The demons would scour every surface for the cause, not something I can risk if I want to hold onto the only possible escape route I could find.
I just need something metal… something that wasn’t initially in shortage before I figured out the truth and tried to defend myself, i-if only I managed to maintain a cooler head back than… D-damnit, still at square zero, f-for now, I- I just need to bide my time… h-however long I might have.
T-The predator scientists seem to be conducting more and more redundant tests now, w-with some beginning to whisper about getting started on more t-thorough research, especially when they think I’m out of ear shot. I… I might not have long left before they just decide to dissect me.
“You hanging in there, Talyn?” A long dull claw poked my cheek, sending sharp shivers through my core.
It jolted me back to reality and forced me to regain awareness of the silver predator looming by the bedside, w-whose presence slipped my mind after a-somehow allowing my guard down around her.
“Heh, doesn’t really look like you’ve taken a liking to the book… you’ve been staring at the wall for a while now.” Variah’s voice almost sounded dejected, her head pointed down at the bizarre novel while flipping through its yellowed pages in an apathetic manner.
All I could do was lay behind the covers, grasping onto them as if they could shield me if the demon had a shift in whims, poking my head out while unable to look away as fur all along my back raised with pins and needles shooting through my skin.
An uncomfortable silence swept the room when Variah's horrid eyes began staring down at me, t-though… t-they almost looked tired and unmotivated, like they were begging for something?
“Ah-I… I spaced out for a minute, ah- I’m s-sorry.” The predator raised a single ear at me, s-surprised that I actually answered her this time, and I… I'm not s-sure why I did it either.
Her ears perked up a little, while I briefly flinched away as she opened up her maw, but quickly found that she only did so to speak again. “You don’t have to apologize, I… I can stop reading if you don’t want to hear it?”
The question actually paused me for a minute, a part of me couldn’t stand having to bare a predator’s presence constantly while hearing her voice narrating some damned book that doesn’t make the slightest bit of sense, but I… partly hating myself for it, but I p-prefer hearing Variah’s voice over the quiet, e-even if it's wrong to be listening to a predator. “Y-you… you can c-contiunue… p-please.”
Variah huffed to herself, keeping her ears pinned back in an awkward manner while lingering a strange, unnerving gaze on me for an uncomfortable minute, before turning back to the book and raising her ears up a little. “Alright, alright… I’ll just start over with the chapter.”
“O-Okay…” I muttered, but it made no difference either way. It’s not like I was even able to listen fully while all those things are constantly prowling around me, my instincts getting the better of me… or, with every clashing thought swirling around my mind. About what happened, about what they are?
B-But I got bits and pieces here and there, just enough to roughly know what’s going on. It detracts from everything dire, but I… I can allow myself this one distraction from this place. Even if willingly indulging in some predator’s work just makes my core feel vile. Though, from what I’ve followed, it… it feels like listening to a lie, n-not like the type of fantasy a predator should either read or write about, but that thing looks far too old to be a forgery for my sake.
“For two years their engines roared, two years of steady descent as long white trails of plasma were cast forth into the inky void, decelerating the wanderer on their journey before the antimatter drives were cut and the great vessel came to a halt on its final destination, after centuries, settling into orbit around Aldiel star.
Awe and wonder resonated from the crew, the voyage was long, with countless wonders and detours on their journey through the Galaxy, but it has been twelve-hundred years since the 1st generation set them on this path, twelve-hundred years so that the 48th could bask in the light of the star that guided their ancestors since the days of wind and sails.
And, since it’s mysterious call beckoned them into the stars…”
Variah’s voice filled the room with considerable mirth in her tone despite her prior hints at treachery… doing a far too convincing job at masking that her prior warning ever happened. Though I- I might be going crazy… but there’s almost an air of stress o-or sadness behind her horrid eyes.
S-Somehow, I… I’m not sure what to think about that predator.
She doesn't fit in with the rest of the beasts roaming around this facility, and for a second… You could almost forget that she's a natural hunter, that the being sitting by my side didn’t evolve to kill and gorge on flesh like the rest of them because those facts clash against the image painted right before my eyes.
The same frightening figure doing something as innocuous as reading through a novel by my bedside, as- as if I was some lost child cooped up in a Zurulian nursery.
However, the beast herself went through apparent lengths to reaffirm my sense of danger here while displaying a clear aptitude towards deception, lying even to her own kind… i-it seems foolish to doubt their nature now.
Y-Yet… seeing her yapping about some fiction novel with such glee, I… I can’t exactly see a monster cut from the same cloth as the Arxur. No Grey in existence would ever try to help prey, nor would they ever produce a novel, much less the contents in this one.
P-Predator explorers traveling across the stars in so-called generation ships, i-it’s… r-rather dumb, honestly. The idea of anyone being crazy enough to cross the void without FTL is ridiculous, though, p-predators fantasizing about it is certainly terrifying. I-imagining what lengths they could go to breach their system… I should be happy that the primitive hunters apparently deluded themselves into believing that super luminal speeds are impossible… at least, until we came along, a-and broke that notion for them.
W-when Variah said the book was a story about their vision for space travel I thought I’d be faced with an early glimpse into the nightmarish future we just created. A ravenous horde of canide demons unleashed to murder their way across the stars, if they got their claws on our FTL tech. Bombing worlds, enslaving cultures and spilling blood before tearing into sapient flesh. Y-Yet, that wasn’t in the pages… t-the opposite was.
Wanderers going from system to system, discovering new life, new wonders, new people… and embracing them with open arms instead of clenching teeth, even if by their own perception that life seemed incomprehensible or monstrous… i- initially, at least.
I… I don’t know.
The predators must have been under the delusion that most sapient life would be just as flesh craving as they are before I spilled the truth, with only a few chapters depicting contact with herbivore species, this being portrayed as some unique encounters, a-and… p-peaceful, n-no hunting, no war. W-Why?
Comparably, there were just as little chapters depicting conflict altogether, n-nothing that would delve into their true nature, a-at least… n-not what their nature s-should be.
It's d-difficult to reconcile everything I’ve heard with what we know about predatory minds, with the confessed threat lurking within this facility, though I can’t exactly ignore it either… I-It doesn’t seem like hunger alone drives these monsters, not like the Greys… t-then what does?
T-There… There was a moment where I almost wanted to just ask, t-though I stopped myself before I could do something that stupid. D-Damnit… What am I even doing listening to that damned thing?
Those weren’t the only things that stuck out while listening, more peculiar passages here and there… from what I can tell these beasts hold a strong aversion towards foreign diseases.
With characters being weary of exposing themselves to alien atmospheres before developing cures and vaccines, or trying to prevent their own predator sicknesses from spreading onto other worlds. It explains the suits from earlier, and why some of the predators wear them even now, but not so much the reason for the alarm in the first place… I would have thought that carnivores should be accustomed to carrying pathogens?
Stranger is that they seem to expect to find life in almost every system, even among inhospitable worlds with characters being surprised to find a barren system, or that “there is only one habitable world around the star.”
Or when finding extinct civilizations… a- and mourning their loss.
I-It’s… it’s not like life is rare in the galaxy, but Grand Herd scouts would weep in joy if someone ever found a corner of space as fertile as envisioned. It's… odd, usually its the opposite for species that developed electricity on their own and found the universe quiet, e-except th-the Verin and Onkari… a pair species.
E-Earlier, it sounded like Variah mentioned some others, w-with some notable differences from her. C-Could there… Considering their views about herbivores, t-than it would be a… n-no, I- I don’t know. W-What are the c-chances, and p-predators would conquer any neighbors… r-right?
D-Damnit, I-I’m just going insane in this… this glorified cattle pen, t-trapped for who knows how long? J-Just questioning myself, w-with no one but horrid predators.
Argh! This book! It… i-it really isn’t something a predator should indulge in. Yet some sapient beast wrote it, w-while Variah seems enamored with that thing, the covers seemingly worn from use. What could a hunter like her see in a story almost void of violence?
Reading through the pages with perked up ears, while casting the occasional glance at me to make sure I’m not totally ignoring her, a w-weary look painted on her ugly face.
Sh- e-earlier she mentioned that… t-that she reads that thing during dark times, i-is… is now… No, w-why are you thinking about that now? How can I trust a single word coming out of that maw? I-It could all just be manipulation a-and you’d be falling right into it like s-some dumb, p-predator-brained Venlil?!
T-Though if… if she isn’t as… D-Damnit, my time might be running out, a-and I’m short of options. If there’s even a slim chance that she’s not lying, I… d-despite what she is, despite better judgment, I… I wish I could count her as an ally in this horrid place, w-without fearing any ulterior motives she could have for trying to help me earlier.
If they were the Greys, I could chuck it up to hunger for alien flesh, s-some ploy to get everything for herself… but that doesn’t seem so clear anymore, when their… agitation doesn’t seem focused on their cravings, and when Variah stands out further from the other demons… She must have had a reason.
This… t-this is incredibly foolish, b-but I clenched my shivering paws and cautiously turned my head towards the demon, taking a shaken breath and opening my mouth to speak. “V-variah…?”
The huntress paused some senseless tangent about dyson swarms and ring worlds, whatever that even was… before turning her horrid eyes on me in a quizzical manner and forcing me to gulp after managing to grab her full attention.
“W-Why… w-why are you not like t-the others?”
The silver demon stared at me for a moment with confusion, before taking a claw underneath her chin and scratching while glancing to the side as if looking for an answer. “Oh- erm… My mother hailed from a nation in the far, far south, the native people have similar coats on that continent. Why?”
Coat? “Wha- n-no, I-I mean, why a-are you here, w-why are you s-so interested in aliens? T-The others, t-they are… t-they are more h-hostile, c-cold, y-you aren’t?”
“Ohh, I see… There might be many reasons, Talyn, but I think most are just scared.” Variah looked away from me and pointed her eyes towards the ceiling before continuing on.
“Everything on Valh was turned on its head when you crashed, and no one knows what's going to happen, or what your people even want… but so far their actions haven’t made you seem very approachable, and your reaction to us hasn’t exactly reassured anyone here either.”
“S-Scared… O-Of us? Y-you can't be s-serious, p-predators c-can’t feel true f-fear, n-not because of p-prey, you- you c-cause fear…” She paused and stared at me for a few uncomfortable seconds, her ears pinned tight to her skull while ducking her head a little more at my comment.
“You have some… interesting views Talyn, I have to say. The things you say… they can be quite silly sometimes. Of Course we have fear, I… erm, people thought the world was ending because of the flashes, because of your ships meteoring through the damn sky… Do you really think no one was scared?”
T-There was a pleading glint within her exasperated eyes, paired with ears that stayed pinned to the back of her skull as a paw rose up to hide her face. This… t-this doesn't feel like a fake reaction.
I… d-don't know, m-maybe if… If they did misidentify our burning ships as hurling meteors then it would make sense even for predators to experience the same amount of dread as herbivores do, though I can’t see those instincts sticking once we hit the ground, f- fear of the unknown then? W-What c-could predators fear in the unknown, b-bigger predators?
“I-If they are acting out of f-fear… T-Then why are you so different? A-Are you not s-scared… i-is that w-why you are fascinated by aliens, m-more willing to be approached?”
“Gods, of course I'm scared, I just… have hope that things won't turn out for the worst… and no, it’s nothing to do with fear. I've been interested in this sort of thing since I was a teen, in large part due to this very book… I must have read it cover to cover just about a hundred times.”
“B-But why? W-why would a- a being like you care for something like that?”
“I… I'm not sure, it's nice to read something optimistic, no? I got it from my parents when the world didn't seem so hopeful, I’d read it all the time whenever they went away… I guess it was a nice distraction during the war… now it’s something I can remember them by.”
The predator's long ears slumped low as she closed the novel, slowly tracing clawed digits across its sealed pages while staring at the worn out cover, eventually putting it back into the bag. Are… are her progenitors dead? Y-You could imagine a predator cub feeling despair when losing a vital guardian that was keeping them alive, n-not a fully mature one.
“Y-You have families?”
“Heh, of course we do, big ones usually, is that not common?”
“I-It… it is.” My body shuddered knowing that these terrifying beings come in large groups, something that goes counter to the anti-social nature of the Arxur, however my reaction caused the silver predator to grow even more despondent.
“Ahh… monsters aren't meant to have families, no?” Her long snout pointed down at the floor while crossing her paws together. I-It was such a strange feeling seeing her like this, i-in such a passive state next to prey… o-only drawing her image further than the beasts we know.
“M-Monsters d-don’t… b-but you do… I- I don't r-really understand w-what you are.”
Variah raised one ear at me, slowly pointing her head half way in my direction before lingering a stare from a single eye. “You… can always ask, you know. I’ll answer anything you want to know, just like before. What do you want to hear?”
J-Just ask? H-Heh… i-it can’t exactly be the same once you know you’re talking to a flesh eater, though, I… I think these beasts have to be a tamer breed of monsters than the Arxur, c-closer to true sapience, a-at least compared to those cursed reptiles. D-Damn, what harm could finding out more about their nature really do?
“A-Alright… I- I don’t know, l-let me think…” My thoughts traced over our conversation, until they landed upon something that stood out, o-one of many things not fitting of a predator. “E-Earlier you mentioned gods, d-do you have a religion?”
“Many. I don’t believe in anything of the sort myself, not really anyway… but most of my family prays to the old gods. People all around Valh most commonly follow the new pantheon and the nomad faiths it originated from.”
“M-Many? Okay then… w-what do you p-predators believe in then?”
“It depends, I guess… Most gods are meant to embody a part of nature in some way, the popular ones usually correspond to some star or celestial object in the sky… like I said I don't really put much stock into the supernatural so I don’t know much, though it… can be uncanny how many things are close to being correct in the nomad myths.”
Nature? Not something I expected, but I suppose predators worshiping aspects of nature isn't inconceivable when it's their hunting grounds. Though, it was worrying to hear a predator getting nervous about their own belief systems. “T-The nomads? You… you mentioned them before, Teh… Tesh, yes? W-What’s so b-bizarre about their beliefs?”
“Oh… yes! You actually rem-” The predator's volume spiked along with terror within my chest, but she stopped herself the moment I flinched away.
“O-Oh, I… I didn't mean to shout, s-sorry. They just can be… curious. Really secretive and stubborn about sharing their lores with us but we had some of their legends written down from centuries back and they always just… seem to know things, or at least, are close to vaguely knowing things they really shouldn't until modern times.”
Not that I have much faith in anything she says to me, but my skepticism was certainly beginning to grow. “W-What do you mean, like what?”
“Where can I even start? From what we can tell they always had an obsession with the night sky, but what’s kinda scary is that they have star charts showing surprisingly correct models of our system, with planets that are invisible to the naked eye… a-and later proven real with the invention of telescopes. M-Most were anyway, except for the supposed distant ones.
They knew of new continents and their rough shapes before they were even discovered, they had vague beliefs about the world and basic biology that weren’t too far off from reality if you exclude all the mysticism. They say that their gods granted them knowledge, I… sometimes find it difficult to explain it any other way.”
I've heard of faiths from half the Galaxy, but never had anyone tell me about getting preordained knowledge about science before. “Centuries you say, erm… I-if I were to b-believe you… are you sure t-these nomads haven’t been contacted by other aliens before o-or something?”
“Hah, if you dig around the internet for long enough I’m sure you’d stumbled upon some conspiracy about the Tesh somehow coming from Tielen or something crazier, but I really doubt that.” She chuckled to herself, before abruptly stopping and looking at me with crooked ears. “W-Wait, you… y-you don't know tha- I… I'll tell you later.”
Something about that answer felt off, b-but I couldn’t pinpoint what. “T-These nomads… a- are they just as frightening as y-you…?”
“I'm not frightening, Talyn… but, I suppose if you need a comparison, erm… I guess you might be a tiny bit taller than your average Tesh if you stood on your back legs, take that however you like.”
That much of a difference, i-is she serious?! T-there really might be another species here… t-two predators species o-on the same world?! That… that just can’t be right, p-predators would see another race as competition, a-and she doesn't speak of them as an enemy… m-maybe it's some weaker subspecies that's tolerated enough to not be driven to extinction?
“A-Alright… e-enough about that, p-please.” Whatever the truth is, the last thing I want to hear about is how diverse in form the monsters I’m surrounded by are, n-not when the whole point of us leaving federation space was to evade a pair of hunters… j-just like herself.
It felt… wrong, just considering this question that came to my mind, but having contact with a speaking monster, willing to answer any question… it sowed a certain level of morbid curiosity that couldn’t be ignored. “W- w-what do you feel when you go on a hunt, when you c-catch prey? D-Do you… do you do it often?”
I took a gulp when those words left my lips, but Variah just tilted her head at me as if my query made less sense than warp drive engineering. “When I hunt? Talyn I… I don’t hunt, not anymore anyway. My uncle took me a few times when I was younger, but it’s not something that I, or most people, do on a regular basis… it's not really my thing either.”
“Yo- you don't go hunting?! Y-You’re a carnivore, h-how… how d-do you g-get flesh?!”
“At the market…” Her voice sounded exasperated, like the apparently non-hunting predator couldn’t believe I had to ask.
Having to Imagine these demons selling bodies at a store like they’re some commodities is nothing short of horror, likely coming from cattle farms if most of them really don’t hunt, b-but… it’s inconceivable that a predator would forgo their own personal blood drive and delegate hunting to someone else… n-not her thing?
“Y-You still hunted prey b-before, w-what did you feel when… w-when you k-killed them?”
The predator looked unsure what to say, looking to the side and rubbing her ear. “I… I only managed to shoot something once, I… I guess I felt a rush at the time, pride… along with some pity for the thing. Again, it’s not something I liked, but I don’t feel bad about it, Talyn… I’m sorry if that’s not something you want to hear from me.”
Despondence grew within my heart as she confessed to having no remorse for the life taken, y-yet, she understands enough compassion to attempt alleviating my feelings about it? With a meek voice I tried to speak up again. “B-But… c-couldn’t you just s-stop eating f-flesh? Y-You can eat r-roots and f-fruit, e-even if i-it needs to be b-burnt… t-there is no need for m-murder.”
“Murder?” Variah looked at me in confusion, lingering a concentrated gaze on me for some time. “Talyn… why do you think carnivores eat meat?”
“T-To sate your b-bloodlust… t-they say you c-can’t help yourself, i-it's in your instincts to k-kill.” Variah furrowed her eyes at me and pinned back her ears, though this time it didn’t come off as stress, rather… bewilderment?
“Listen, we eat meat because it’s a physical nutritional need. We can’t eat plant matter like you do because we lack the right enzymes to digest it properly, and regardless of that, meat has proteins my body can’t synthesize on its own so I would eventually starve to death if I ate nothing but plants, cooked or not.”
She grabbed both ears and started rubbing them in an anxious manner. “Sure, instincts do play a role in how predators behave… any creature with specific biological needs had to evolve a drive to fulfill those needs, but it’s about survival, not some… some constant mind consuming lust for carnage?”
“Y-You really expect me to b-believe that you won’t start drooling t-the moment you feel hungry?!”
Variah’s paws moved from her ears and down on her forehead, staring straight at the floor for a few seconds with a fatigued posture before sliding her paws down again to hide her snout as she started to… c-chuckling? “By the gods. I hope you won’t… but if you’re still worried that much my belly’s all full right now, so you have nothing to be concerned about.”
Is she… is she finding this funny!? The thought of her being fully sated with corpses just sent a shiver down my spine, I don’t even think she realizes how morbid the comment was but I could only feel bitter in the moment. “H- how l-lovely for y-you… t-that just makes me feel s-so much b-better.”
Variah narrowed her eyes and slowly looked in my direction, causing mine to widen in response. The silver predator raised a paw and extended it towards my face.
Dread shot through my heart, forcing me to flinch away and shut my eyes before the horrid demon made contact and I squealed in terror, b-but… instead of her claws flaying me alive, I only felt a harsh flick across my ear. “You must be feeling all great now after all if you’re willing to speak with so much spite.”
Cautiously, my eyes opened to see Variah leaning close, her increased proximity immediately sending off alarm bells in my head. However, the overgrown demon just sat there still with closed eyes and perked up ears, holding out a clenched paw in front of me, with only the pinky extended forward.
I just stared at her for a moment, unsure what she wanted me to do before finally recoiling my arm back with a mix of scorn and trepidation when I figured out her attempted gesture. Contemplating my actions here, then contemplating her’s…
B-before averting my gaze from the demon and lowering my arm, and… a-and deciding to cautiously raise my arm, hovering a shaking paw right before the demon’s digit a-and managing to grab on, n-not fully sure of every reason why I did it?
It felt… wrong, loathsome, holding onto a predator, b-but some part of me liked feeling her warmth. She didn’t react at first, but after a few seconds Variah’s digit curled in on itself and pressed my paw against her other knuckles… It surprised me, b-but, it didn’t feel like a grip I couldn’t get away from if I let go now, s-so I just sat there for a moment, taking in how surreal the situation had become.
“See…” Variah finally decided to speak up as I raised my gaze to meet the strange predator once again. “I’m not as terrifying as you think.”
An odd mix of emotions went through my head, b-before I finally let go of her. “Y-you are… y-you just… c-could be w-worse.”
The silver beast seemed disappointed for a moment, but her overall demeanor seemed more positive than before. “Heh, I guess that’s an improvement so I’ll take it, for now.”
For once, I’ve seen Variah’s ears pointed to full height, and she… she really didn’t seem as frightening, m-making my ear rise a little higher too, awkwardly sitting in a crooked manner. “H-heh… y-you… you are a s-strange being, Variah… n-not how I could have e-ever imagined. You… d-do you really not like hunting?”
“Not really, no, if you're willing to believe it… though I won’t lie, I do enjoy the outdoors aspects of it. The hiking, the camping… get to do it a ton for my main line of work.”
The most arduous parts of working in the wild? Why would a scientist have to work in the wilds anyway? “W-What do you actually d-do? A-and, w-why are you here now?”
“Many things, but primarily astronomy and anthropology work. We survey the night sky deep in nomad territory because their communities produce far less light pollution, so I tend to have a ton of contact with the tribals. These are usually joint ventures with archaeology and zoology teams, so we regularly assist with each other's work too.”
“As for why I’m here, the military swooped me up once the dust settled long enough to know that it wasn’t space debris that landed on our world. I… I wrote a paper about a hypothetical first contact with extraterrestrials, and how it could play out based on cultural interactions throughout history… turns out that was enough for the government when they were scrambling to find scientific personnel capable of contributing with an alien encounter.”
It was bizarre hearing that hunters would care about so many fields of study. At best I thought they would focus on utilitarian pursuits, not something as frivolous as archeology. Much less would I have expected that predators would be speculating about aliens. “H-Have you imagined f-first contact going like this?”
“I- I didn't even think we would ever have an actual first contact, n-not in my lifetime… with the distances involved the chances of an encounter were literally astronomical, at least, until we learnt about your physics-breaking technology. Realistically, the best I ever hoped for was living long enough to watch someone land on Tsn, or hell, even our other moon… When they told me what I was meant to do here and got rushed into this room with you, I… I thought I would faint.”
The last bit left a tinge of guilt within my heart, even though it’s for a beast that technically shouldn’t deserve it. My glare just lingered on Variah while listening to the giant predator spill her woes and dreams like any actual sapient being in the Galaxy. It feels… d-dreadful, l-like there was actually someone I could have liked had they not been trapped within that body.
S-Still… I found myself with a need to answer back, turning away from her direct sight. “I- I’m sorry about that, I guess.” I really am going crazy here, aren’t I?
My eyes found themselves staring off at the ceiling while the silver predator just tilted her creepy head at me in a puzzled manner, lingering her unnerving eyes before finally answering back. “You don't have to worry about it… but thanks.”
Nothing more was spoken between us for several seconds, the extended silence drawing more attention to the strangeness of the situation I found myself in, until the moment was cut short and without warning a buzzer sounded over the door.
An ominous voice came online from the speakers, announcing that guards were about to escort me for another set of experiments. Something that left off, and must have also taken Variah off guard judging by her shift in demeanor. “More tests? Strange… nothing else was scheduled for today.”
The door began to cycle through its opening sequence and my anxiety flaring back up to how it was before, shivering, as the sudden break in routine caused an impending sense of doom once I realized that something even more nefarious could be afoot.
It could be futile, but my eyes snapped around the room looking for something, anything that could keep me safe if the worst came to pass, until they landed upon Variah… and the silver predator glanced back at me. Scanning over my current state with concern in her eyes, y- yet again contradicting what her nature should be truly.
A- a desperate thought crossed my mind, s-something… completely unthinkable, but no alternative seems at all feasible, a-and my time is drawing short. I- I cannot do this alone…
“Va- V-variah…” I hissed, my voice so weak that it's a shock that the beast managed to hear it even with those long ears. “P-please… You- you godda k-keep me s-safe.”
Her creepy eyes widened with shock, almosting freezing on the spot, but the predator recovered quickly, likely trying to look inconspicuous before glancing side to side and turning her head back to me with perked up ears.
“I- I promise I’ll do what I can…” She spoke in a low tone while reaching a giant paw towards my head. The sight of claws nearing my face compounding instinctive dread, but despite flinching once her palm made contact with my head, I- I didn’t shy away as much as before.
“On my honour. I just… need to figure out what’s going on first.” Variah took her paw away as the door hissed open, a-and for a moment m-my… my muscles twitched to pull her back before I stopped myself, u-unsure what compelled that impulse.
Two large guards stepped in, sporting fur dark as pitch and looking far more imposing than Variah ever could. “Doctor…” The demon spoke with a low tone that made my claws vibrate while slightly bowing his head in some form of greeting.
“I-is something wrong, sir? I wasn’t aware of any changes in the roster?” The silver predator appeared far meeker than the two beasts in front of her, though her demeanor didn’t suggest an expectation of being harmed by the two, despite her earlier treachery or our interactions from today.
“Nothing’s wrong Doctor, the administrator got a green light for a new line of research, so we’ve been ordered to escort the subject to the lower levels, please step out of the room.”
For a moment, something the demon said shook the silver predator, causing her head to snap in my direction with concern as I shuddered from the sight. “T-the lower levels? I thought those were shu-” She paused once looking back at the giant guard who seemed to be running out of patience. “R-right, apologies, I’m on my way.”
The silver predator moved sheepishly towards the door, lingering at the threshold to look my way one final time, clear concern painted on her face, at least before perking up her ears in what looked like a vain attempt at reassuring me and ducking out of the room soon after.
I- I guess it was just a deranged fantasy ever considering that begging some carnivore for help would materialize into anything. Now I was left alone with two demonic shadows ordering me out of the bed. My muscles weakened when their voices called, with nauseating sickness almost making me vomit from overwhelming dread.
However, following their commands was preferable to these monsters dragging me off by force so I just climbed down the frame, disheartened, and almost collapsed on the floor before letting the demons lead me into deeper depths.
First/Previous/Next
Special thanks to u/TheWalrusResplendent and u/Killsode-slugcat for proof reading this chapter. The help is always greatly appreciated.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter, been a while since we saw what Talyn. We'll be back with Kafny next chapter to see how she'll adapt to her new situation.
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2024.06.01 22:21 British_Iron Transitions: A Star Wars Story. Execute Order 66 (Part 1)

Transitions: A Star Wars Story. Execute Order 66 (Part 1)
https://preview.redd.it/ucch5o5eq04d1.png?width=5000&format=png&auto=webp&s=07d40e4734eaa5c201248d9b7834fa50fae08a46
After their success on The Invisible Hand, Emilith and And’Recat found themselves together once again with their masters being assigned to the defence of Kashyyyk. Masters Bri’An and Yoda resented the recommendation of the chancellor that they be paired together but saw it as an opportunity to understand his motives so went out of their way to keep the pair separate.“It feels like we’ve been here forever…” And’Recat sighed. “We’ve been here like a day…” Emilith shook her head. “Honestly…” Their communicators both started to beep as a new caller attempted to join them. “Greetings.” A croaky voice started before his image appeared. “The time has come… Order Sixty-six will be enacted and you will rise to your rightful places as Empresses Eternal. I have ordered both the Clones and Battledroids to regard you as their commanders. If it pleases you, you can help them with their mission to remove your masters. Your communicators will warn you five minutes before the clones receive their orders.” “We will make sure they don’t make it off of Kashyyyk.” Emilith smiled.
The two of them continued to talk through the night and into the morning, neither of them realising that it was almost time for their patrols to begin.
A Morning Walk
The air was fresh. The sunlight trickled down through the leaves. There was a stillness as they walked through the skyscraper like trees. The wookie village spiralled down to the forest floor. Against his orders, Emilith chose to start her patrol early and without Yoda. She walked alone with only the sith holocron to keep her company. Since acquiring it, it had been the near sole focus of her training. It never left her side. In times like this, when there was no-one around and the world was silent, it would whisper to her; she let it fill her mind with images of darkness and destruction, thoughts of pain and suffering. Emilith let it all wash over her. She never let it overwhelm her though; try as it might, the holocron could never break her. She walked alone for hours, lost in her own mind, waging war against the holocron’s lust for dominance. Her focus slipped as her communicator buzzed. As she turned to check it, Emilith became innately aware of her own vulnerability. She was no longer alone.
“So this is the would-be Empress.” She knew the voice immediately. “I sincerely hope not.” “I had hoped I wouldn’t be caught dead looking like that but here I am… Wearing stilts.” Emilith looked up to the towering vision in front of her. An echo of her future. She was lying, she was terrified. “What do you want?” Emilith’s future stood tall, towering above her; she was clad head to toe in black leather and burnt beskar. Metal arms sprouted from her back with hands that ended with lightsaber like blades for fingers. “To ensure my past is on course to create my present.” The Eternal Emilith drew her blade. “Now… Defend yourself.” She was surprisingly mobile despite the cumbersome appearance of her boots. The two traded blows. They were surprisingly well matched; while The Eternal Emilith had reach and coverage with her dual weapons and claws, The Emilith of The Present could very much hold her ground as her agility and lack of encumbrance allowed her to move more fluidly than her counterpart. Every time she thought she had connected, Emilith’s lightsaber seemed to phase through The Empress. She parried and defended herself from her future but she was unrelenting. “Accept me! Allow me into your mind and together we will rule this universe.” The Eternal Emilith roared. Emilith shook her head, her breathing ragged. “No. You are my weakness, you are everything I shall strive not to be!” She lunged, spinning in mid air to avoid The Empress’ blades only to find she had passed through her body entirely. Now on the opposite side, Emilith held up her hand and grabbed at The Empress; although she wasn’t physically present, she existed within the force. She felt the pain and torment surge through her, the dark side given form as she attempted to throw The Empress. Shards of electricity crackled at her fingertips; red lightning surged around her arm. It crackled and arced before forming a cohesive ball of red energy. The ball grew, engulfing her hand before firing at The Empress. She screamed as her body was overtaken by the glow. “Weak! You are nothing but our weakness! You will never reach our levels, never rule as you could have!” The Eternal Emilith shrivelled into herself, her body now devoid of its colouring, taking on the same red energy Emilith had thrown at her. “Strike me down now and you will only weaken an already fractured…” She took a moment to recompose herself. “You are destroying yourself.” “No.” Emilith held true. The chain of red energy in her right hand, she used her left to remove the holocron from her bag. It began to crack and creak as she brought it in front of her, glowing with an intensity she had never seen before. “I don’t think so.” Purple fractures appeared in the air around The Eternal Emilith, fractures in the fabric of the force through which more red light poured. Emilith felt herself grow stronger the longer she allowed the connection to last but she knew that it would have to come to an end eventually. It took a great deal of effort but she eventually brought the holocron into the path of the beam. It intensified as did the fractures and the light they bled. The Empress’ screams started to rumble the earth below her, frighten the trees around her. The glow grew brighter and brighter. Shattering. The holocron fell to pieces on the ground. The Empress was no more but her knowledge and skills lingered. Emilith inhaled her aura and with it, her experiences. She remembered things that were yet to happen, things she was yet to do, atrocities yet to be committed. A smile crossed her face. Three kyber shards were all that remained of the ordeal.
A Vision of The Futures Past
A scream pierced the silence. After collecting the shards, she ran to the source of the sound. Blaster bolts filled the air. She had never moved that fast in her life but her body was teaming with a new kind of energy. The grass at her feet wilted, the shrubbery faded from vibrant green to brown. A clearing lay ahead. And’Recat lay, a head. Emilith teleported to her side, the universe rippled around her. She let out a wail that rang out across the entirety of Kashyyyk then ran her hand through And’Recat’s hair. “What?” And’Recat coughed softly. “What!” Emilith stared down at the head in disbelief. “You’re alive?” “I think so… Why?” “Umm…” Emilith wondered how best to break it to her. “No reason… What happened?” “My master, Bri’An. When the clones turned on him, he blamed me. He attacked me then…” And’Recat froze. “Then… I… I… I don’t remember…” “Right…” Emilith angled And’Recat away from her body, making sure her decapitation remained a secret. A fire started burning in her heart. “I’m going to find our masters. I doubt the clones will have killed Yoda yet.” “What about me?” And’Recat tried to look down. “Why can’t I move my head?” “It’s all you’ve got… Bri’An took your head off.” Emilith’s anger grew. “You give them hell.” And’Recat’s rage added to Emilith’s intertwining the pair in the force. “Can you take me with you?” Emilith nodded. She rose from the floor, pulling And’Recat’s hair into a ponytail to use as a carry handle.
She ran with her eyes closed, using their master’s connections to the force to guide them. Eventually, they reached the beach landing zone. Clones and battledroids worked together to search for Yoda and Bri’An but found themselves unable. A detachment of the Forty-first broke off and ran to Emilith. “Ma’am?” The clone looked them over. “Are you wounded?” He was understandably apprehensive given the picture before him. “We’re going to be fine. Once we find our ‘masters’.” Emilith scowled. “Of course ma’am.” The clone responded. “The Chancellor has instructed us to obey you so… What are your orders Ma'am?” The Lieutenant asked. Emilith looked the trooper up and down. “You look familiar… What’s your name soldier?”
“I’m Lieutenant Sev Ma’am.” He bowed his head slightly. “No.” Emilith paused. “From now on, you’re Commander Sev and you are not to leave my side unless expressly ordered.” She spoke coldly and deliberately. “Now, I want your men to disregard The Chancellor’s orders for now and clean up this planet. Round up every last damn Wookie they can and prepare them for transport to the Venator. Alive.” She paused. “The Jedi are no longer their concern.” “Yes Ma’am.” Sev gestured for his men to get started. “And what are we going to do?” “We are going to hunt ourselves a grandmaster.” For a split second, the confident facade slipped and Emilith appeared somewhat worried.
A Beach Side Battle
They breached the treeline, finding themselves on the beach. Just off in the distance, surrounded by a mountain of clone corpses, two figures retreated to a shuttle. Although they were too far away to identify by appearances, the light of their green lightsabers was undeniable proof that they were Emilith’s targets. That was enough for her; her rage bubbled inside of her before it became externalised. An aura of red formed around her and, as it had when she fought The Empress, reality itself began to crack. Purple light bled from the wounds that she was inflicting. Like a magnet, she was pulled into the cracks, vanishing from view, leaving Sev by himself. She reappeared in a similar fashion within striking distance of the Jedi. “Master, retreat! I shall cover you!” Bri’An leapt towards Emilith, lightsaber drawn and ready. “I know not how long ago your fall began but it ends today.” “Oh, you don’t know how right you are.” She smiled. “And yet, you won’t be the one to stop my descent just confirmation I’ve reached the bottom.” Emilith brandished And’Recat’s head. “An eye for an eye. A head for a head. Only seems fair.” Emilith closed the gap in an instant and began wailing on the master. He was obviously more skilled than she was, his control and mastery of the blade was undeniable but her power and aggression were unlike anything he had ever faced before. Bri’An tried his hardest to remain in the fight, blocking and parrying her every attack and dodging those he couldn’t. His movements had been focussed on defence for the entirety of the battle but Bri’An quickly realised that he would be better off attacking. Switching his stance threw her off. He was faster than she was, more accurate too and his constant attempts to wound her meant that she was unable to properly fight back. Emilith backed away giving both combatants a moment to catch their breath. She looked down to the head in her hands. And’Recat did her best to nod, knowing exactly what Emilith had planned. With her confirmation, the battle commenced once again. She was glad she could no longer feel pain as she went head first, barrelling into her former master’s face; Emilith wielded And’Recat like a mace, striking Bri’An in the side of the head. Fighting as one, they continued; And’Recat acted almost as a shield for Emilith, attacking from angles blocked by Bri’An’s lightsaber. The playing field had evened out. Neither side had an obvious advantage. Out of the corner of her eye, Emilith saw a blustered Sev approach. “Keep going!” She yelled. “Yoda’s just ahead. Ground that shuttle!” “Sir!” Sev saluted and continued running, his weapon drawn. Bri’An saw his moment. He brought his emerald blade crashing down on Emilith’s left hand. Just as it looked like he was going to cut And’Recat’s ponytail, the red aura returned. His lightsaber bounced off as though deflected; sparks blinded him. Emilith took the window of opportunity and slammed it shut on him, she swung And’Recat’s head who chomped down on his Lightsaber, disarming him then, with a single, swift motion, she returned the favour. His head lingered on his neck for a nostalgic moment before gravity took its course and both head and body fell to the floor. Emilith looked at the body, scowling. She searched it for And’Recat’s lightsaber then pressed on to her final objective.
Sev had his rifle levelled on Yoda but it wasn’t necessary. Yoda sat before his shuttle, eyes closed, legs crossed in meditation. His eyes snapped open as Emilith approached. He felt the dark side. What started as shallow waves became an all engulfing tsunami of hate and anger. He stood then bowed. “Darkness you have become. Strike you down, I must.” Yoda flourished his blade. Emilith readied her own lightsaber then stopped herself. She returned the hilt to her belt. Her eyes filled with an orange glow as her skin grew paler. She took a deep breath in. Her usual complexion returned; all of the colour and energy travelled to her hand. Effortlessly, she raised the grandmaster into the air. The whole planet fell silent. Yoda tried to struggle against her but found himself rapidly weakening. Spectral hands manifested around him and began tearing him limb from limb. His robes tore first then came the flesh. The bloodied and broken pieces fell to the floor but all that landed was his robes and lightsaber.
A Fraction of Her Power
The hangar of the Venator was filled with wookies. Emilith looked down in disgust. She turned to Sev and handed him And’Recat’s head. Emilith leant up against the railings. “I want them all dead by the time we reach Coruscant. All of them.” She paused. “And tell your troopers to enjoy themselves, make the most of it.” Emilith took And’Recat back. Sev wasn’t sure how to react. “Sir?” “Death, pain, anger. All are gateways of the dark side. We have become one with it. Now, you must too.” She smiled. “Now, go, have fun!” Emilith beckoned him to leave. “Oh, hold on. We’ll need a life support frame for And’Recat too please.” “I’ll send your request to the medical team.” Sev nodded. “Thank you sir.”
Next time...
Attack on The Archives
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2024.06.01 22:18 SavCherieB AITAH family member turned roommate - rest of family cut ties afterwards.

Warning, long story. Hi there, I will have to add a bit of a backstory. I (25F) and my husband (25M) have been married for almost a year now, we have a comfortable home that he owns, and my brother in law (23M) lives with us.
My cousin, (27F) and her fiancee (40M) were having issues, granted I did not like her fiancee due to the fact he was extremely rude, talked down to others, made horrific comments on my behalf, jokes about abortion / miscarriages etc. But I constantly had to be forgiving and understanding that he was struggling at the time…? There was always an excuse. Or pressure to forgive him for her. Anyways. Not shockingly. The two split. My cousin (F27) calls me crying. Doesn’t know what to do. Where to go. Anything. She has 2 animals, granted we have one of our own, but we have a decent sized home. Take in mind I am severely allergic to cats, which was one of her animals but I always have Benadryl on hand and was willing to accommodate. She moves in from across the country almost a week later. My husband (M25) was more than happy to support my family member in a sad time where a wedding is called off. As was I. But things took a turn. It seemed like an awesome idea, a way for her to save money, find work in a better economy (state by state basis) - but, I didn’t realize that she had become use to her former housekeepers, relying on others to do basic chores around the house. I was completely trying to give her time to grieve. So I held the load, considering it is my household. But, she started to throw out our groceries she deemed bad. That led to her eating our snacks, I (F25) have been a SAHW, so money isn’t exactly at the all time high it was when I was employed. But we still would include her in family dinners, taking her out with us to the occasional night out, giving her space, etc. Her dog, who she left with me 24/7, had never been trained. He had fleas. I was getting bit all over my legs and when I let her know- she told me I was lying. So I let it go. I was trying to consider her headspace and mental health. But, her inability to even slightly care about my home/ her new space started to bother me. I gave her more than happily my side of the sink, she had a full closet of her own, she slept in my brother in laws room (he travels for work occasionally), but would let her dog run around the house muddy, left fruit on our counters to rot, causing a new mess of fruit flies, moving my wet laundry from the washer onto the top of the dryer, pouring hot food leftovers from the pan into the sink to let sit, which did NOT help with the fruit flies. I felt like I was going crazy. But I was extremely overwhelmed and also trying to understand what she may be going through. But then, the joking at my expense came in, about how I didn’t need a job as badly as her. Laughing at me for painting my nails instead of getting them done. Just teeny jabs I didn’t quite understand. I felt like I was going crazy. My husband was very sad to see me so down, he helped me around the house after his 13-14 hour shifts, and helped me through talking about it.
Until one night, she sat down at the dining room table and offered to pay rent. We listened to her and gave her a number, $600.00, because of the costs of utilities, the dog, the lack of help, internet etc. I mean, if you’re not going to contribute to maintaining the home, or offering to help with basic chores I can set that aside for payment instead. She looked at us and said, perfect. And we didn’t speak about it again. Almost a month later, the mortgage is about to come out, and I sat down on my laptop to read my email, and I casually mentioned she can pay my husband sometime this week. She looks at me shocked, and said, what do you mean? And I kindly reminded her of what we talked about, and she looks at me like I am crazy and states “ I might get an apartment tomorrow. And this would hurt my plans and I would just need to live here another month, it’s better for my mental health. “ And I said, so you won’t pay what you offered this month, and want to stay another, without paying? I’m confused? I had NO clue she was looking to move out. So I said, I am sorry..? But? What? I had no idea? She then told me it was okay and she understood.
So she left for work, then proceeded to text me whilst at work saying “ I really appreciate what you’ve both done for me , but, I need to get some dental work done, and I don’t believe your utilities cost that much.”
Take in mind, I am crying from stress. I don’t know why this has all been so draining. I was really trying.
So I texted back calmly saying I was disappointed and didn’t know what to say to her at the moment.
Later that evening, she sat down on the couch and confronted me. She sat across from me and I got really overwhelmed and she proceeded to say she didn’t have the money and it wasn’t fair, but I quietly mentioned how she was ordering 3-5 things a day online, like clothes, makeup, things you wouldn’t invest in if struggling so badly, lash lifts, eyebrow tint, nails done, she left the relationship with a brand new SUV, and a couple grand which I was reminding her most people don’t make it out of a relationship with as many blessings as this, especially in this economy. She was horrified. I simply stated I felt overwhelmed and felt taken advantage of. I was still calm and collected, and then she looked at me and said, “ WOW. After all I have done for you. “ And I started sobbing. She then took it back and stated she didn’t mean it like that.. but, I hate that verbiage. My husband, who is quiet and sweet looked at her, and proceeded to asked her how she meant it then. She didn’t know what to say, and he said you’re overwhelming my wife and your actions feel lazy. I agreed. She then started arguing with him and I remained silent. I was so tired and didn’t have much to say. She then sarcastically sent the money and left to sit at the gas station to “ calm down “ and I told her I didn’t want her to drive upset. She turned around before she left and sarcastically asked if we needed more money. I ignored it. But I asked her if she was going to paint me terribly, and she started raising her voice about how she wouldn’t ever ruin my other relationships with family and how could I assume that. Well when she left she ended up calling her sister (F34) to bash me.
Take in mind, I tend to keep issues in between the parties at hand, not rush to others.
Well. (F34) stopped talking to me entirely. The next week was hell. Stomping around the house, acting like she owned the place, slamming doors, ignoring me / my presence entirely. Walking past us like we were in her way. When she did talk, she only spoke to my brother in law, and would sit on the couch and speak to him even though we were right there.
I couldn’t take it anymore, and I asked her if she spoke to (F34) about what went on, and how it was handled. And I agree, anyone has the ability to vent, but, to act offended and then proceed to do so. I don’t know. She then said what my husband said was not okay. I left her alone. So finally it was the day before she left. I woke up, her cat had destroyed my carpet. Her dog was chewing the lawn decor. There was mud all over my floors, the trash and sink filled with fruit, she posted a massive emerald ring with diamonds on her story, went to the mall and left for me to take care of it. Finally I snapped. I texted her. I told her I didn’t appreciate her ignoring me. Or treating my home poorly. She proceeded to argue with me and talk to me like this was my fault. So I told her to stop. I am from a family where confrontation is a normal thing, I can’t stand it, and I didn’t want to embarrass her or ask her to pick up her things because I was trying to be kind, understand what she was going through, but her offering rent helped over asking for the bare minimum and avoiding embarrassing her which I really didn’t want to do. But I had enough. She comes into the house a few hours later, banging on my door, grabs her cat, litter, etc. spills the litter and her cats (potty) all on my carpet, loads up her boxes, slams my front door and leaves.
I didn’t say a word.
So fast forward to day before yesterday, I texted my (F34) cousin, her sister. And I basically said, in a shorter version, I wanted her to see things aren’t always as they seem, I sent her the photos of my home and how filthy she left it, and i didn’t understand why she was angry at me, and only considered her sisters side, when we’ve been a close knit trio for years. But I also had a side.
She then told me I owed her sister a massive apology and my husband was wrong for saying that her actions were lazy and how dare I, not help her sister, how it was an unsafe environment, or expect for her to clean, and they were done with me unless I apologized immediately.
She then (F34) flew down to the area to see (F27) and texted my eldest brother in law, asking to see him last night. But told nobody else.
All in all, they’re mad I took my husbands side. But when she (F27) was with her fiancee (M40) I was forced by both cousins to sweep it under the rug and move on from him screaming at me during one of his episodes, forgive him for his comment after my miscarriage that we wouldn’t of been good parents, the list goes on. I am only 25. I don’t see really how I owe them both or (F27) an apology..?
So. AITAH? And did I deserve for my family to cut me off?
submitted by SavCherieB to AITAH [link] [comments]

2024.06.01 20:50 Joshh170 Monster Hunter Wilds Confirms Game-Changing New Feature

Monster Hunter Wilds Confirms Game-Changing New Feature
Monster Hunter Wilds will introduce fans of the series to a new mount that will give them a way to switch their weapons much more quickly than in previous installments. The new mount, called a Seikret, will possess a variety of useful skills to aid Monster Hunter Wilds players.
Publishedeveloper Capcom first revealed the next game in the Monster Hunter series in December at The Game Awards 2023. When it releases in 2025, Monster Hunter Wilds will be the 28th title released under the Monster Hunter brand, which dates back to the original game's 2004 release on PlayStation, with the most recent release being 2023's augmented reality mobile game Monster Hunter Now.
The Seikret is a bipedal winged and feathered dinosaur-like beast that will provide its rider with a variety of useful skills, with possibly the most exciting being its ability to carry an extra weapon. The Seikret is equipped with a weapon sling that allows it to carry a secondary weapon, and players will be able to use this feature to switch between two weapons while they are on hunts, which should provide a wider variety of combat options without requiring players to return home to switch weapons. The gameplay trailer for Monster Hunter Wilds revealed during the May PlayStation State of Play showed off this feature, as a character mounts up, switches from a melee weapon to a ranged weapon, and opens fire on an incoming beast.
The Seikret Adds More Options to Monster Hunter Wilds
The Seikret is only one of the many monsters confirmed for Monster Hunter Wilds so far. In addition to its handy weapon sling, the mount will have plenty of other useful skills that players will want to make use of. It possesses a keen sense of smell, which it will utilize to help guide players to pre-set objectives or any other location they manually select on the game's map. Additionally, it will provide a mounted combat option, allowing players to attack with a slinger while riding it, in addition to using some items during travel, including health restoration and weapon sharpening items.
The Seikret isn't the only new feature coming to the game. Some large creatures in Monster Hunter Wilds will move in packs, each with its own set of behaviors, which should add some depth to how the creatures in the game's world interact with each other. Additionally, The Forbidden Lands will provide new locations for players to set their hunts in, with the first revealed being the ecologically diverse Winward Plans, which will combine grasslands, deserts and rock formations.
submitted by Joshh170 to GameGeeks [link] [comments]

2024.06.01 20:22 Lugbor Muses' Misfits 20 - Support Your Local Library

First
Previous
Sorry for the delay. Reddit was being Reddit, and the Old Reddit trick didn't fix it. I had to add everything in markdown mode and switch back to the rich editor before it would let me post. So there's that workaround now, I guess.
“So that's what happened,” Ryn'Ala said as her magical servants set out plates loaded with food. They had decided on a late dinner of dried meats and cheeses, once their host had seen her other guests off for the night.
“I remember my first ghoul encounter. It was a roamer, split off from a nest and wandering the countryside. We had been asleep after clearing out a pack of wolves that were terrorizing a farming village, and it managed to get the drop on us. I still think Randolph was asleep instead of keeping watch, but he always maintained his innocence. Anyway, Randolph shouted as he tried to hold the thing off with his axe, and the rest of us had to fight in our sleepwear. It's a good thing there was only the one.”
“Yeah,” Fulmara agreed, “I got bit even through my armor. I shudder to think what would have happened if it managed to grab a proper chunk of me.”
“It wouldn't have been pretty,” the elven woman said, shaking her head. “Spells and potions are all well and good for scrapes and bruises, but it takes something truly powerful to staunch a cut artery or regrow limbs.”
There was a moment of silence as they all contemplated the implications of their new lives. Finally, Jeron grabbed a roll from the basket and they all started eating.
“So,” Verrick began, breaking the silence, “good news first?”
“Right,” Ryn'Ala agreed, “I did promise you some news. Good news first then! The two gentlemen you met earlier are some of my colleagues, here to study the egg like I promised. They were able to determine that the material is indeed onyx, which hasn't been documented before, and that the engravings are related to the Celestial tongue, but are not a known dialect. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say they were possibly the written form of the Muses' own tongue. We're trying to find any commonalities we can to start deciphering it, but as none of us speak Celestial, it's a slow process. The other good news is for you, Verrick.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I managed to find some old books from when Jeron was young. They're aimed at teaching the children of nobles to read, and should help to get you to a basic level of competency. Once you get the basics down, the rest of it is just a matter of experience.”
Verrick blushed slightly. “You don't have anything suited to teaching adults to read, do you?”
She laughed. “Unfortunately, no. Though I suspect the subject matter would be much the same, but with less color in the pictures. I'll help you get started tomorrow, if you like.”
“I'll help get Fulmara up to speed while you're working with him,” Firun agreed. “Between the two of us, we'll have them reading like functional members of society in no time.”
“Hey!” the dwarf snapped. “I can read! Just not very well. The big words trip me sometimes.”
“The big words are some of the most important, dear,” Ryn'Ala countered. “How else would we know what alchemical reagents are in a flask, or what stuffy old monarch is buried in a newly discovered tomb?”
“I know that,” she replied, looking down at her food. “I just don't think it was very funny.”
“Also fair,” the elf agreed. “But he still makes a valid point. As you are now, you will struggle, especially if you're to continue your travels. Give us a little time to work on your reading comprehension, and you'll have a much easier time whenever you need to purchase supplies, or conduct research.”
“What's the bad news then?” Jeron asked, spearing a piece of fish.
“Our options are more limited than I originally thought. As... talented individuals, groups like yours naturally attract attention. It's something I went through in my younger days. Some attention is a good thing, of course. Having the right eyes on you can open doors in the most unexpected places, after all. The problem is that some of the attention you'll receive is significantly less beneficial. The Imperial Order of Inquisitors has taken an interest in you, as a new group with connections to the Imperial Court.”
“We know someone important?” Verrick wondered, confused.
Ryn'Ala finished her wine and held her glass out for a magical servant to refill. “As a classically trained performer of the Imperial College of Performances, and as a citizen gifted by the Song, I have some influence in the Elven Court. The Inquisitors don't particularly care how little the influence is, just that it exists. As long as they're watching us, I won't be able to leverage my connections as much as I would like.”
“So we're not really any worse off than before, right?” Jeron asked.
“Not entirely. The Egg research is still going to happen, but I can't exactly help you make new friends like I'd hoped. You'll have to do it the hard way.”
“So not really any different than before,” Firun confirmed. “We weren't exactly expecting elven royalty to help, although it would've been nice.”
“In any case, I have one more bit of news to share, and this one is a bit more concerning.”
She left the room for a moment, returning with a small stack of parchment in her hands. Jeron cleared a space on the table and she spread the stack for them to see.
“I took your descriptions of the warlock's benefactor and contacted a few of my colleagues in the royal archives. Don't worry,” she said, seeing the concerned look on Jeron's face, “I didn't give them any information about any of you. I just told them I had received information about interference from a powerful being. While we do not have an exact identity, our information does match descriptions of a being that has been encountered before.”
“What is it?” the dwarf asked. “What do we need to kill?”
“While I admire your enthusiasm,” Ryn'Ala began, “I must warn you that beings like this can't be killed. Not truly, in any case. But knowing what it is can help you to lessen its influence on the world.”
She pointed to the first sheet. “It is, as Jeron suggested, fond of presenting itself as a cloud of powdered bone. To the casual observer, it's not much different to a cloud of ash or dust, but it's a fitting appearance that drips with symbolism to those who know. The being is a powerful entity residing in the space beyond the Pale Reach, the realm of undeath.”
“The Pale Reach is a lifeless corruption of our realm,” Jeron explained, noticing the confusion on the faces of his companions. “Both it and the Deepwood were created by the Echoing, twisting the parts of the Song that created life in the world to create unlife and a bountiful overgrowth respectively.”
“Exactly,” his mentor continued, pride in his studies evident in her voice. “The Pale Reach, while not exactly the source of undead, still resonates with their energy. It's a place beyond life and light, where the sun is pale and weak. The air is as stale and unmoving as a tomb, and yet a howling gale tears at your very soul. It is a place no living being should tread, and in the darkness beyond even that, your adversary lurks.”
Fulmara shuddered, her face pale as she remembered the touch of the being's energies as it fed on her father and corrupted her mother. She felt Verrick's hand on her shoulder, and soon her friends were with her, driving back the memories with their presence.
“Exactly,” Ryn'Ala said, noticing her discomfort. “You have felt the touch of a being that was never meant to be. A thing that has no soul yet craves one above all else. It is an existence that should not be possible, even for the Echoing. That is what you have sworn to thwart. Knowing this, do you regret your Oath?”
Fulmara's answer was immediate. “No. I do not regret swearing vengeance on this vile thing, and if I cannot kill it, then I will kill its ambitions.”
“Well said. I believe you will make for a fine champion of Fulmos.”
The morning was frigid as Jeron entered the archives, nestled beneath the monolith of the Tradespire. His footsteps echoed on the marble floors, rebounding from the shadowy recesses of the vaulted ceiling above. Between the columns along the walls, statues of knights stood at attention, their stone swords as tall as Jeron himself. At the back of the room stood more, carved to resemble accountants. A dwarven woman sat at the wide desk ahead of him, watching his approach while she sorted paperwork. Finally, she called out to him.
“How can I help you this morning?” she asked, clearing a space in front of her. “If you have an appointment, I'm afraid there's been an emergency cancellation for anything before midday.”
“I'm here for research, actually,” Jeron clarified. “I'm looking into some events from a couple decades ago.”
She opened a drawer and began rummaging through more papers. “Alright, one moment then while I locate the form you'll need. If everything is valid, I'll also need your entry fee of fifteen silver, to help us maintain the files and our equipment.”
The receptionist brushed a lock of blond hair out of her face as she sat back up with a sheet of paper. “If you'll just fill this out, we'll get you started.”
The form was a simple one, with wide spacing for each category to allow for individuals with larger hands. Jeron scanned the page as he walked a short distance to the standing desks at the edge of the chamber, working over the wording he would use for each line.
Name, that's easy enough...
Benefactor, Ryn'Ala Leth
Group or Organization... I'll have to think about that.
Reason for request, Research on recent plagues and the means by which they were cured.
Additional Notes... Possible link to recent ghoul case in crossroads village of Caldren.
Jeron filled in the answers he could, but he was stumped by the request for a group name. He knew they'd need one eventually, and if they didn't start introducing themselves properly, then someone else would come up with a name for them. Those names were rarely ideal, if the Mud Biters were any example. Deciding to leave it blank for the time being, he returned to the receptionist and made a mental note to bring the topic up later.
“Alright, Mister Blackbough,” the dwarf muttered as she scanned the page, “let's see here.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Plague research? Not planning on spreading one, are you?”
“More looking into the cures,” he countered. “Never enough Clerics to cure a population once it gets out of control, so I'm looking into the alchemical cures that have been used recently. Easier to stockpile and transport ingredients than powerful people, after all.”
“Fair point, but what makes you think you'll find the answers you're looking for here?”
“If I don't, then I'll at least find something that will point me to the right answers. And besides, Do you honestly expect me to believe the formulae aren't kept here? Having them accessible may lose you a little money, but having them locked away where nobody can find them could completely kill a market.”
“Well done,” she said, filing the form in another drawer. “You pass, although we technically could keep the formulae in a separate section that the typical trader couldn't access.”
She clapped her hands, the sound echoing unnaturally throughout the chamber, and a statue peeled itself away from the wall behind her. The golem, Jeron realized, thudded forward and halted just behind her.
“Take our guest into the archives,” the woman said, turning to look up at the living stone. “Section four, subsection three. He has four hours to research before you bring him back.”
The golem grunted, a hollow groaning sound, and motioned for Jeron to follow.
“Stay with the guide,” the receptionist ordered. “Their default instructions include removing anyone who strays into areas they haven't been invited into, and they can be a lot faster than they look.”
“Got it,” Jeron said, turning to follow the lumbering accountant. “Lead the way.”
The golem led him deep into the building, through rooms filled with shelves and tables. More than once, he had to sidestep a gnome or a dwarf with stacks of scrolls so tall they couldn't see where they were walking, and he could swear he saw a wheeled golem zip across the hall at one point. Finally, they stopped in an unmarked room, which looked almost exactly like the ones they had already passed through. The golem gestured to a section of the wall, and the indicated shelves began to glow with a pulsating blue color.
“The focus of my research is a plague from about twenty years ago,” he said, turning to face the statue. “Any chance you can narrow that down a bit?”
The golem shrugged before gesturing to the wall again. The illuminated shelves did not change.
“Right, on my own then. Let's see how these are organized.”
His search took almost an hour to truly get started, but once he determined the pattern by which the information was stored, he was off. Books held verified accounts of events as recorded by city officials, merchants, and adventuring groups, which had all been corroborated by third parties. Scrolls with a blue end cap held accounts which matched the established timelines but could not be fully verified, such as the accounts of a group called The Dawn Star, which had claimed to have killed a necromancer responsible for an outbreak of Crushing Syndrome some sixty years ago. Accounts which were found to have possible merit but did not line up with the official account were written in scrolls with a red end cap.
Jeron sat down with a small stack of books, scanning each before setting it aside and taking the next. He jumped decades at a time, clearing the gaps between major disease outbreaks each time, until finally, he found it. Almost twenty years prior, the city of Varien about a month's travel bowlward, an outbreak of Leadbone. Admittedly, there wasn't much to go on. The disease was almost always fatal, and was magical in origin. Little was recorded about the cure, and nothing at all about the alchemist who discovered it. The scrolls, red and blue markings alike, shared in the dearth of information, and Jeron suspected the information had been deliberately withheld.
As he began returning the books to their shelves, the golem grunted, signaling the end of his time in the archives. Jeron gestured to the books, and the golem nodded, allowing him to finish returning them before it lead him back to the front desk. It returned to its place along the back wall as the receptionist sat back up from her search through yet another drawer.
“Find everything you needed?” she asked.
“Not quite, but I did get some clues. Quick question, if you have a minute,” he added, glancing at the sunlight streaming in through the bowlward window.
“Go on.”
“If I wanted to join a caravan headed toward Varien, who would I speak to?”
“Caravan offices are near the dawnward wall, about three streets from the gates. You'd have to ask about the schedules there.”
“Thank you very much,” Jeron said, bowing slightly. “You have been more helpful than you realize.”
“Tell that to my boss, maybe I'll get a raise.”
Jeron laughed, and was soon on his way home. His notes were folded and tucked into a bag at his waist, and he puzzled over the questions that had arisen in his research. Why was that plague so poorly documented? Was it even the right plague in the first place? The questions swirled in his mind, but above all of them, one rose to the top.
What do we call ourselves?
Next
Wiki
Seriously, do what the title says. Local libraries are the best source of information you have, because if you can't find something online, the librarian will often know where to direct your search. They're also a great place to play D&D if nobody can host. Just be sure to keep your celebrations to a low roar.
submitted by Lugbor to HFY [link] [comments]

2024.06.01 20:10 No_Replacement9295 AITA for backing out of planning my friend’s Bachelorette party?

I (32 F) have been friends with Bri (31 F) since we were 5, we're more like sisters. Bri got engaged 2 years ago, shortly after her mother passed away. With the grief of her mother's passing along with multiple big moves and job changes wedding planning fell on the back burner. There was no official bridal party named, although we had discussed who the intended bridesmaids would be. She mentioned how she would love to have me as MoH, but one of her other friends would honestly do a much better job, I agree and had no problem with this and would much rather offer support in planning showers and the bach party than take the lead.
 Bri and I talk every day, but wedding planning hasn't been mentioned in the last 6 months. She and her fiancé just bought a house and have been working on getting settled so the idea of wedding planning has been a huge source of anxiety for her. I figured she was trying to let life settle down some. The date that she had originally wanted was her parent’s wedding anniversary which is coming up in about 2 months. Last we spoke about the wedding (6 months ago) she was overwhelmed because the venue/hotel she wanted, which is also very sentimental to her mom's memory, wasn't available for her date and the date was conflicting with many of the people who were close to her mom. In the past 2 years her feelings on getting married have jumped back and forth. I have been completely on board with however she feels. It’s ranged from weddings are too expensive, stress of venues, eloping, courthouse wedding on a random date just to be able to legally join assets to buy a house, to a few concerning hesitations about getting married at all. She also had a major falling out with the friend she was going to have as MoH, which kind of put a damper on wedding planning. After months of the wedding not even being mentioned, the other day I get a text message from a friend of hers, Mia (30ish F), wanting to start planning a birthday weekend/bachelorette party for Bri in about 2 months. I was taken aback because I had not heard anything lately about a wedding date or an official wedding party, and Mia had never been mentioned as a possible MoH. Bri has also been insanely stressed so I wasn't entirely sure if this is something that she even wanted or if Mia was planning a surprise. I checked with a few people to see if I was being sensitive by being mildly annoyed that this came out of the blue. The consensus was that this was a little strange, and that I should talk to Bri before responding. I knew that I couldn’t do those dates Mia mentioned but if Bri didn’t want a Bach part to begin with I wanted to advocate for her and tell Mia that we could start coming up with ideas but that now might not be a great time. Bri and I played phone tag for a few days and when I finally got her on the phone I asked if she and her fiance had set an official date that I missed because Mia had messaged me about planning this party. She immediately got defensive and responded "Well I think I deserve a Bachelorette party, do I not?". I assured her that she absolutely deserves a bach party, I just didn't realize that a date had been set. She very quickly reminded me that I knew the date was to be her parent’s wedding anniversary and that it had never changed (despite not having sent out save the dates or wedding invites, or having even mentioned the wedding in months). She went off about how nice it was of Mia to step up to plan the bach party and wedding (yes now Mia is also planning the wedding in 2.5 months). Bri made it known that I should be grateful as it was super considerate of Mia to reach out to me first but that “I was offended anyway.” I told her I was not offended I was just taken aback because I didn't realize a wedding was even still on the books and from my perspective the text came out of nowhere especially since there’s no official bridal party. After being harangued by Bri I texted Mia to let her know that we definitely need to get something planned, but I'm unable to do the dates she suggested because I have a (different) wedding to go to. After I sent that message to Mia I immediately got chewed out by Bri again for being standoffish because I waited to respond to Mia. Bri also demands to know whose wedding I have to go to and how I know them. She says I’m intentionally being difficult to be territorial and have a pissing contest. Bri continues to remind me how nice and generous Mia is for planning everything. During this convo Bri states she doesn't want to have a wedding but she is GOING to honor her parents anniversary and she'd never forgive herself if she just went to the court house. She mentions she didn't even want a bach party but she deserved one and would regret it if she didn't have that experience. She went on about how this is the last thing she needed, that I should think about how it made Mia feel that I didn't respond for so long, while Bri completely ignores how not telling me anything for 6 months and to randomly hear the wedding is still on from a 3rd party made me feel. I was floored, and frankly angry. I know that I didn't do anything wrong here, but for the sake of trying to bury any drama I try calling Mia, she doesn't pick up, so I text her apologizing for the late response, thanking her for taking the reins and letting her know that I’m excited to help plan this celebration, and shared some ideas. Mia didn’t respond for 3 days, which I wouldn't normally mind but such a huge deal had been made about me not responding in a timely manner. I finally texted her again regarding some research I had done about locations. I'd thought about drive time for Bri, and the location of airports for Mia since she lives on the other side of the country. She asked about budget, I told her I'd kind of been expecting around $1000 by the time it was all said and done including drinks and food, she responds talking about how we shouldn't be planning this based off what's convenient for me, we should be focusing on what Bri wants. She reminds me that she (Mia) is coming from the other side of the country so this is going to require the most travel for her. I pointed out that I pitched the locations out of consideration for Bri and that given my location anywhere we go will likely require about a 7 hour drive, which is fine. She argued that I'll have it easiest because I'll have the option to drive or to "utilize the high volume airport I have access to". The tone is overall petty and my ideas are all shut down. She then switches gears that our priority should be finding dates right now. She says she's going to get some dates from Bri and send out a poll to everyone, and the weekend that I have said that I can NOT attend, will still be included in those dates and that Bri is good with choosing the weekend that has the most responses from everyone “to be equitable”. From the start of all of this I have been made out to be problematic, selfish, and only worried about what's convenient for me, so rather than continue to have Mia twist things into me being the difficult one I decided to step back and responded simply “it sounds like you have everything under control just let me know when where and how much.” Mia called me two days later, I missed the call but called her back and she answered with the most over the top fake "OMG! Hey Girl!" but asked if she could call me back and never did..it’s been 2 weeks. I may be the AH for stepping back when I can already tell Mia is dropping the ball and there’s only two months to work with. I want Bri to have a great experience, but not at the cost of our friendship if Mia insists on making me the problem. AITA?
submitted by No_Replacement9295 to dustythunder [link] [comments]

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