Whale barf

Howdy, so, recently, on DeathBattleMatchups, someone made this post about characters who are powerful for dumb reasons, and the top comment mentions Ghost Roaster, followed by Wrecking Ball, Drobot, Trig, Tri-Tip, Grave Clobber, DK, you get the idea. The general point was "these people are dangerous, unpredictable, possibly unfit for the job, yet are Skylanders", which got me thinking... are the Skylanders actually a good team?
I'm gonna specify SSA for this (I am not tackling every Skylander in one post, nope, nuh uh, never), but even the original 32 have some dysfunction, so, I will be going Skylander by Skylander, analyzing their backstories, personality, and past performance, to judge how good of heroes these heroes truly are, because sometimes it feels like they'll accept anyone.
I should probably set up the two rubrics the original 32 will be judged by:

1. As a whole... obviously, this is where greater dysfunction will matter but minor personality conflicts will fall to the wayside, I won't go over this until the very end
2. Individual elements, if there's an active volcano, you send in the fire Skylanders, if there's a sinking ship, you send in the water Skylanders, Skylanders should be expected to mesh well in their own elemental teams, if they don't, that's a problem

And before I start, let's analyze the Skylanders in concept... they're a private militia. No, really, they're tied to no government, seem to be privately funded, go after people at their own discretion, and given that we see more portal masters across the franchise, I doubt that Eon alone is enough to warrant this being allowed. Skylanders seem to work for a few reasons, some truly like being heroes, others saw it as a way out or protection, others just plain like beating the snot out of people. There seems to be no real rubric for what makes you a Skylander, you don't even need to be heroic, there's a decent amount of bounty hunting Skylanders that happen to hunt villains, they're neutral in all honesty. This is all to say no Skylander is getting the benefit of the doubt, they've shown to hire neutral-aligned people, so, base line, nobody is getting points for being a Skylander, a soldier isn't a good soldier because he is a soldier.
Now, to start off with Fire, we have
Ignitor (Grade: 7/10, get a social life and come back)
(the order is whatever order I want)
Ignitor is an interesting one to talk about, generally speaking Fire Skylanders fill the role of mid-range DPS, powerful, but have some defense to fall back on, Ignitor takes his role pretty seriously but not the oh-so-dreaded too seriously, we'll get to that
The problem with Ignitor is really split up into two, for one, he seems very... prickly, not the type to have fun, he does the job and he does it well, sometimes that's needed, but it does lead to a rather unhealthy mindset, the man needs time to have a social life, which he generally seems to lack, I don't think Ignitor is socially a good teammate, valuable on the battlefield, but just okay when it comes to anything but bloodshed.
When it comes to why he chose the job, he seems to be truly selfless in it, he's a knight, described as gallant and trustworthy, you can rely on him to have your back in a fight but I doubt he's truly friends with anyone except someone like Chop Chop, he also... uh...
Okay yeah Ignitor hates witches
After getting cursed he is constantly stated to have a distrust for witches, the problem is obvious, but I'm just gonna pin that as a point of contention until the end, we all know the issue here, but let's smother it until it's time.
Eruptor (2/10, take anger management dude)
So, Ignitor got minor marks for not being sociable, Eruptor's taking it too far, this grump is said to, and this is no joke, blow a fuse over things "such as creaky floorboards and people not covering their mouths when they cough", this would be bad in any squadron, someone with such a hair trigger temper isn't good, but it gets worse when you remember this is a guy with lava for a body, he gets too angry he'll burn the house down!
On top of that, Eruptor also has indigestion, why does this matter? Well whenever nervous, scared, or otherwise nauseous, Eruptor will barf lava, and, according to Imaginators, the man is scared of bugs.
HE WORKS WITH THE LIFE ELEMENT.
Eruptor basically cannot function in any teamwork setting, he's the guy in class who doesn't do any work and sits in the corner, sure he can decimate a horde of trolls, but he's gonna be insufferable the second you need to actually work with the guy, how do you give him criticism on his fighting style when he'll boil the water in the air if he hears the smallest noise?
His backstory doesn't list anything regarding why he joined, he could potentially just be heroic, or he could just be trying to get revenge on those he deems irritable, either way, he's a downright dangerous teammate and should've never been hired (sorry Eruptor fans, I love him too)
Flameslinger (7/10, good teammate, but take off the blindfold)
Showing off is cute in an archery competition but Flameslinger this is serious, take the blindfold off. He's said to be courageous and I'll give him points for being legit kind and brave, like when he saved that fire spirit that gave him the bow and boots, but he's just so cocky.
I'm not kidding, the wiki mostly just mentions how much of a show-off he is, and that's not too bad on its own, really, the man likes his skills, and he seems to hit his shots so who am I to tell him no? But here's the thing: He works with Ignitor and Eruptor, one blows up over anything, the other takes heroism very seriously, Flameslinger's blatant lack of seriousness is gonna rile them up, Eruptor is going to get mad at him and Ignitor's going to get frustrated with him.
I'm not saying Flameslinger can't take things seriously, but his pride seems to be his major trait, he's super talented, but sometimes... man take the blindfold off, you're raiding an Arkeyan temple, there's a real chance him wanting to look cool influenced his decision to be a Skylander more than actually helping people.
Sunburn (4/10, you picked the wrong element to be a prankster)
So we kinda know exactly why Sunburn joined, he was being hunted by poachers and joined for protection, so I don't have to do much speculating there, unlike the above 2 he actually gets a pass on potential motives and I'm not docking points for potentially pulling in poachers, the Skylanders can handle it.
The problem with Sunburn is he's a prankster (I know, hard to gauge from his voice lines), but the phoenix-dragon likes teleporting behind people to scare them. Eruptor barfs lava when nervous. I don't think the math is brain-breaking.
Plus, Sunburn can't stay in place for any longer than a minute, potential ADHD side, that is... really bad when you need to save the world, sure, yeah, you want to stay active, but sometimes you do need to wait for the enemy to close in, I know the Skylanders have a very "Shoot first ask questions later" mentality to their missions but there's still some tactical strategy, just look at the Troll Warehouse or Goo Factory!
Sunburn being a prankster is just not a good match with his element, if he took ADHD medication and cooled it on the teleports behind you nothing personel kid stuff, he'd do better
Also, this is more general, but all the fire Skylanders get some docked points for being... fire and being unable to be touched, sorry boys, it helps when you can physically pull each other up
Final Fire Rating: 3/10, Eruptor doesn't mesh well with anyone, Ignitor isn't social enough, Sunburn is actively antagonistic, Flameslinger would be fine in another element, overall poor composition
Future Notes:

• Ignitor is anti-witch
• Ignitor, Eruptor, and Sunburn cannot be touched

Moving on to Water, there's no general business to take care of, but I need to mention this for-
Gill Grunt (10/10, no notes)
-I am sticking strictly to SSA for this, trust me, I know about the whale and squid in the room, but we can't talk about it right now
Luckily for Gill, when it comes to being a Skylander, there's no one better, he's completely selfless and I can't twist his personality into him joining for a selfish reason, Gill truly is a hero, through and through, I really can't spin him into being a bad teammate, the man's broken out of mind control through sheer fucking will in the books, he's just a good leader!
While yes, he does absolutely despise pirates, if I don't look at Thumpback and Wash Buckler, they're not here, so we can appreciate Gill just... being solid all around, no wonder he keeps getting reposes, I'll be shocked if he gets topped
Zap (6/10, it's not your fault Zap)
Okay, so you probably think Zap's personality is what docked him points, right? ...Actually no, you see, being lighthearted and prankster-ish isn't an immediate con, it's only bad when combined with someone who wouldn't enjoy it, like Eruptor, Slam Bam, Wham-Shell, and Gill are all shown to be capable of having fun and taking a joke, Zap's personality isn't just okay it would be welcomed, you do need people with the ability to kill the tension, and he's capable of taking things seriously, he's not 100% jokester all the time, that is not why Zap ranked poorly
Zap ranked poorly because he's a fucking prince
For those who don't know, Zap is a long-lost prince of a race of sea dragons, his egg was found and raised by electric eels (which somehow gave him lightning powers, who knows), and now he's a Skylander... if his parents ever find him the politics alone would collapse this entire organization, he's only getting a 6 and not a 4 because at least if his parents never find out he's in the clear, Zap is a ticking political timebomb and it's not his fault, sorry Zap, originally your only lost point was because you hate dolphins... which is fair dolphins are horrible
Wham-Shell (4/10, c'mon man)
So y'know how Zap was a prince?
WHAM-SHELL IS A FUCKING KING.
That's not just me complimenting him for being a super underrated Skylander, he rules a kingdom, while one could argue this solves the private militia problem, IT ALSO MAKES IT TO WHERE IF WHAM-SHELL IS HURT, OR WORSE, KILLED IN COMBAT, AN ENTIRE KINGDOM IS WITHOUT A RULER, he never mentions having a wife or kids, not in the books, the comics, the anything, Wham-Shell is a worse political timebomb than Zap, he's a good team player, no notes on that, but I can't put him high, sorry Wham-Shell, I can't rank royalty very high
Slam Bam (8/10, too many ice puns)
Slam Bam is one of those Skylanders who appears very little so I really have like, a paragraph to go off of, from what it says he's just a dude, goes with the flow and picked up the job purely because Eon asked somewhat politely... which is based but not much to judge a personality on
on that front, if you're curious about my ranking comment, this is his officially listed personality:
"Slam Bam can be a little frosty with folks he doesn't know, but soon thaws over time. Get on his bad side, however, and the polar pugilist will knock you out cold"
cute ice puns, what do I do with this
he got slightly lower because of the whole "frosty with new people" thing even though it's obviously a joke... I really don't have much to say here, why couldn't you have been in a book like the other 3?
Final Water Rating: 7/10, would be much, MUCH higher if we didn't have two royals on the squad, they work well together those two are just way too valuable
[Okay so I really wanted this all to be one long mega post... but uh... that'd be too long, like, way too long, so I'm segmenting it 2 elements at a time, next up is Earth and Air]

Today's anniversaries are:
1997

• Daft Punk - Homework (dance, house)

2004

• Hella - The Devil Isn't Red (experimental math rock)

2005

• Venetian Snares - Winnipeg Is a Frozen Shithole (breakcore)

2012

• Dodecahedron - Dodecahedron (progressive black metal)

2014

• Loathing - We Are the Hunt (death metal)

2015

• Arcane - Known/Learned (progressive rock)
  
• Björk - Vulnicura (experimental pop)
  
• Schnellertollermeier - X (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Zach Hill - Astrological Straits (experimental rock)
  
• ᑕᓐᔭ ᑕᒐᖅ (Tanya Tagaq) - ᐊᐅᒃ (Auk / Blood) (experimental pop)
  

2016

• Sectioned - Toothgrinder (mathcore)

2017

• Ad Christī glōriam - Ad Christī glōriam (black metal)
  
• Anal Trump - To All the Broads I've Nailed Before (grindcore)
  
• Ashenspire - Speak Not of the Laudanum Quandary (avant-garde black metal)
  
• Avec le soleil sortant de sa bouche - Pas Pire Pop (I Love You So Much) (krautrock)
  
• Emptiness - Not for Music (blackened death metal)
  
• Gorilla Mask - Iron Lung (jazz fusion, progressive rock)
  
• Led Bib - Umbrella Weather (modern jazz)
  
• Mike Oldfield - Return to Ommadawn (progressive rock)
  
• Mosaic - Old Man's Wyntar (folk black metal)
  
• Mouse on the Keys - Out of Body (math rock, jazz fusion)
  
• Perihelion Ship - A Rare Thunderstorm in Spring (progressive rock)
  
• Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs Pigs - Feed the Rats (stoner metal)
  
• Reflections in Cosmo - Reflections in Cosmo (jazz fusion)
  
• Rivière - Heal (progressive metal)
  
• Samskaras - Asunder (blackened death metal)
  
• Seminary - Automnymous (deathgrind)
  
• Sinmara & Misþyrming - Ivory Stone & Hof (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Tante Yvonne - Tante Yvonne (jazz fusion)
  
• The Flight of Sleipnir - Skadi (progressive metal)
  
• White Ward - Futility Report (avant-garde black metal)
  
• Кшеттра (Kšettra) - Five Mothers (experimental jazz)
  

2018

• 1984 - Dystopia (black metal)
  
• Kawaii Busters - New Album 2013 (hardcore)
  

2019

• Call Us Колос (Call Us Kolos) - На связи (Na svjazi) (experimental punk)
  
• Kelp - Exterior (experimental jazz)
  
• Kevin Blanke - In Remembrance of Things that Never Were (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Mar - Pressed in the Earth (doom metal)
  
• Matt Rappa - Barf Bag (experimental jazz)
  
• The Murder of Rosa Luxemburg - Everyone's in Love and Flowers Pick Themselves (post-hardcore)
  

2020

• An Anderson - Rude Unraveling (progressive rock, math rock)
  
• Endless Floods - Circle the Gold (drone metal, post-metal)
  
• Galia Social - Part 1: The Rise of Galia (progressive rock, jazz fusion)
  
• Hibernal - Beyond (post-rock, synthwave)
  
• Pestilength - Eilatik (avant-garde death metal)
  

2021

• Band-Maid - Unseen World (J-metal)

2022

• Gian Correa - O abismo da prata (Latin jazz)
  
• Neige et Noirceur - Les Brumes éternelles (ambient black metal)
  
• Success Pistols - First Shot (free improvisation)
  
• Where Stars Collide - Dome (progressive metal)
  
• Y/N - Ani (avant-pop)
  
• Zolder Ellipsis - Entropy Override (avant-prog)
  

2023

• A Troop of Echoes - Infinite Hits 1 (noise rock)
  
• Aegaeon - Exponential Transcendence (death metal)
  
• Aiming for Enrike - Empty Airports (post-rock, math rock)
  
• Arnaut Pavle - Transylvanian Glare (black metal)
  
• Art Ensemble of Chicago - The Sixth Decade: From Paris to Paris (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Christoph Irniger's Pilgrim - Ghost Cat (modern jazz)
  
• Crossroad Copeland - Cope Land (jazz fusion)
  
• Degraved - Whispered Morbidity (death metal)
  
• Deiquisitor - Apotheosis (death metal)
  
• Dryad - The Abyssal Plain (blackened death metal)
  
• Ears of Lead - The Warm Teardown (free rock)
  
• Eric Richards, played by Loadbang & Ekmeles - The Consent of Sound and Meaning: Music of Eric Richards (contemporary classical)
  
• Feedback - Wakeup Call (progressive rock)
  
• Florian Hamela - Echoes (nu prog)
  
• Fred Frith & Susana Santos Silva - Laying Demons to Rest (avant-garde jazz)
  
• Hands Holding the Void - Past Is Prologue, Volume Ⅰ (experimental post-rock, drone)
  
• I, of the Trees and Wind - Cry of the Forest (atmospheric black metal)
  
• Jeffk - Tar (post-metal)
  
• John Zorn, played by New Masada Quartet - Volume 2 (avant-garde jazz)
  
• 助長 (Jochō / Jyocho) - 云う透り (Iu tōruri / As the Gods Say) (math rock)
  
• Kali Malone - Does Spring Hide Its Joy (ambient classical)
  
• Katatonia - Sky Void of Stars (alternative metal)
  
• Meta Peta - Haven (math rock)
  
• Natt - Natt (post-rock)
  
• Negative Vortex - Tomb Absolute (blackened death metal)
  
• Niyoh - Colours (nu prog)
  
• Nothingness - Supraliminal (death metal)
  
• Oak Pantheon - The Absence (progressive metal)
  
• Plank! - Future of the Sea (progressive rock)
  
• Post Moves & the Sound Memory Ensemble - Recall the Dream Breath (ambient country)
  
• Pyramid Mass - Monolith (blackened doom metal)
  
• Re-Buried - Repulsive Nature (death metal)
  
• Riverside - ID Entity (progressive rock)
  
• Ṙo - Baiagoan (post-rock)
  
• Silent Whale Becomes a Dream - North (post-rock)
  
• Skoki - Bloom (math rock)
  
• Sodality - Benediction, Part 1 (black metal)
  
• Thaumaturgy - Tenebrous Oblations (black metal)
  
• Turbid North - The Decline (sludge metal)
  
• Vitrail - Le Mépris du monde (blackgaze)
  
• أُودِسي (Oddisee) - To What End (hip-hop)
  
• 千葉敦子 (Chiba Atsuko) - Water, It Feels like It's Growing (psychedelic post-rock)
  

We all know that COD and in itself, Activision has never really been the bastion of good business practices eg; still selling old CODs and DLC's at full price that never get sales.
But I'd like to focus on the MW2 to MW3 carry over, give me 1 good reason that isn't 'Activision wants money' to why MW2 can carry over its guns and skins, skins especially piss me off since it feels like a kick in the balls to the people that bought them in MW1, didn't in MW2 because they thought it would just be left in a forgotten, unsupported game. There is literally no reason not to port them over especially considering it graphically still holds up just aswell and every game after MW1 is basically a copy and paste asset flip glorified DLC.
Gone are the days that actually bad games will have sales that reflect that, now it's just big studios barf out long running oversaturated game series to a crowd that will lap up anything and ask for seconds whether or not it gets bad press à la MW3 which will soon be forgotten. Worst thing is that the games like MW3 won't even get bugs and glutches ironed out even after all this time such as; crashing, the UI is still slow as hell even on my PS5, many model glitches, MWZ takes like 5 mins to load, flying zombies, kicking me out of the helicopter without actually exfilling me, leaving me in an out of bound area to die and to top it off I've fallen through the map twice.
Saddest thing is that Activision know exactly what they're doing and rely on the whales to spend thousands on their overpriced skins, nearly as overpriced as Apex. Hopefully soon, the people will start talking with their wallets, influencers will express their dissatisfaction with the games, and we can actually get a good game before it's too late.

hey all! I just wanted to make this post since I've been reading other ppl's post about their experiences and grievances concerning the grindiness and flaws that come with the game being a gacha and not a traditional full-length otome game. I'm an avid gacha player (help) so I'd thought I might compile what I know and give an idea of the general "gacha game cycle", as well as what I think personally could help improve the game. Hopefully some of this info might help alleviate some concerns or uncertainty for those who've never touched a gacha, though as a reminder, I also don't know what PrettyBusy has planned exactly.
What's a gacha game? RUN
As most of you know by now, gacha games have a gacha, which really is just gambling for jpgs (albeit very pretty ones). Really, gacha might as well be the main focus of the games, and the story and characters are just add ons lmao BUT that doesn't always have to be the case (see Arknights or Fate/Grand Order aka FGO, despite the latter's copious collection of waifu bait).
Gachas are also usually character-raising games, so you have units/cards/characters to raise and level, and to do that would require currencies, of which there can be so. Many. These can be categorized into two main ones + a minor, less important one:

• Money
• Materials (aka Mats)
• Copies of owned characters (aka dupes)

These can be used to level up characters, unlock/strengthen their skills, ascend/promote etc., or for extra stats (i.e. dupes).
Materials and Grinding (ew)
Money tends to be ezpz to gain usually, especially as you play longer and have less units you need to level, but mats tend to be more tedious. So far in WHB we have the basic elemental jellybeans and candies and what not---usually obtained either randomly through normal nodes (i.e. story) or by grinding special nodes (so the portals, which will give only specific mats). Some games, like Arknights, let you make mats by using common ones to make rarer ones. I'm just mentioning this now since gachas can throw a bunch of seemingly random materials at you and expect you to know: they're all just upgrade materials so hoard them. >w>
Honestly, the amount of books you get from the portals is not bad in my opinion, as well as other mats. However, what really annoys me is how difficult it is to promote characters. This is mainly due to how tedious it is to get Tears of Solomon, because afaik the methods are limited and often capped per day (do correct me if I'm wrong). Oh yeah, I guess missions can also be a way of getting some mats.
Dupes aren't that important, they're just for extra, small stat boosts. People who are really dedicated will get max dupes for their faves to make them stronk.
The last option, and in my opinion the most efficient method, is acquiring mats through events. I'm not sure when or how the game will handle events, but I'll just do a rough prediction based on my experience in the next section.
Events Babeyyyy
So, events (I can already feel the grind...). Events are just limited time periods, usually averaging 2 weeks, where the devs usually release the following:

• An event story (the fun part :D)
• Event shop
• Event banner + new units (the fun part :D)
• Story nodes and special "point" nodes that provide event currency/points (the grindy part D:)

Besides reading the event story and doing battle nodes just like the regular story mode, this is also where most of the grind comes from. Here's a general breakdown of the process:

1. Read and progress through story
2. Unlock harder battle nodes which give more currencies
3. Earn currencies to buy from the event shop
4. PROFITTTT AND NEVER HAVE TO GRIND AGAIN FOR MATS (for a few weeks until they're depleted and the next event comes >:3c)

Of course, the way events are run can be different among gachas, and gachas can sometimes have different TYPES of events. These can be:

• Point ladders (run nodes for points and obtain progressively better awards the higher you go---my fellow FGO and rhythm game players know QwQ)
• Lottery boxes (basically clearing out "shops" but you obtain randomly things from a set of items---another FGO one)
• Fight hardass battles for currencies (a la Granblue Fantasy)
• Adventure-style minigames (like exploring an island in Tears of Themis)
• Literal board games or strategy games and shit, idk

The whole event can be released at once, or they might be time-gated (so like FGO, story will be released in sections over time), or you can only do a certain amount of whatever the mini-game/mechanics are per day.
Main point is, events will usually have you gather currencies to exchange for goodies. These goodies can be money, special items (maybe like artifacts for WHB), and most importantly, a butt-ton of mats. I say events are the best for getting mats because you can just straight up buy them by the 10s or more without playing different nodes. Shops can have both rare and common mats, so hopefully the devs put Tears as one of them orz
Downside is, they're straight up grindy (as mentioned) PLUS the fact that there's no auto-battle makes it tedious. It's unavoidable. The only consolation I can give is that longer-term players will find it easier to grind in non-automated battles due to sheer power and built af units, so they can just delete enemies without thinking too hard about sweaty strats.
Unrelated kind of but sometimes, or maybe it's more common now but event gachas can sometimes or consistently give out freebie "welfare" units (like 4 star or maybe A+ level in this case), which is especially helpful for new/f2p players. Event rewards will also usually include copies to evolve/promote/raise stats etc as well as items needed to promote/ascend (can you tell that gachas are soooo consistent in their naming!??!?).
Speaking of units, next up is PULLING ON BANNERSSS YEYYY
Pulling on Banners (can be ur angle or ur debil)
>:3c this is by far THE saltiest, the most beautifully sweatiest and wallet emptying, ritual-inducing, prayer-filled part of the game. Many try to keep the salt under control; few succeed. Most of ya'll probably have a good grasp already, but I'll just include it for the sake of covering my bases.
(btw when I refer to banners I just mean like the different gacha pools, so the GreateLesser key banners and potentially summer banner, (event name) banner, etc.)
Gacha have two types of banners: regular, permanent banners which are always available with a set of permanent charcters (not event specific/releasing with an event) and event banners.
Event banners usually contain new characters, and will have what's called a "rate-up", meaning the chances (lol if they can be called chances) are higher, like say 0.8% higher or smth, maybe over 1% if devs are generous (lmao). Permanent characters can also get rate-ups. But beware; sometimes rate-ups can feel like a LIE.
imo, as a rule of thumb I usually NEVER roll on permanent banners and banners with permanent characters on rate-up because they're straight up bait (but that can also apply to highly wanted characters put on banners RIGHT BEFORE the release of new ones), but our dear, kind devs are quite generous with pancakes ;D sooo it's not too much of a concern here.
Every new event will have new banners (I'm assuming) and there semi-regularly will be banners on rotation, maybe even when there's no event to grind (think special holidays, updates, anniversaries, etc.). As there are a limited number of keys, it's up to the player (unless they have cash and can afford to dolphin/whale) to save up keys or spend them how they wish on whatever characters.
ofc, if ur a husbando lover like me it's hard to resist all of them ^q^
Event/special banners are also limited, with special units available for a limited time, which further increases the pressure to pull. Warning, permanent characters can also appear, which may lead to spooks instead of limited units >:(
There is also what's called the "pity system" in some gacha games, though it's not a consistent staple, unfortunately. Basically it's just roll x times and if you don't get the character it'll become guaranteed (rules may differ between gachas). WHB doesn't have one, which sucks, but hopefully they'll install one later (like FGO did, but FGO's is really bad lmao).
However, usually gacha games will have what are called "reruns", which basically mean the game devs will run the event another time (usually once more) + the banner or the characters will appear on another banner. Hopefully this is the case as it is with many gachas, because what's worse than missing a limited unit is missing one that never comes back smh. The only unfortunate thing is that there is only one global server, so everyone is on the same timeline and we can't exactly peek into future events on schedule like FGO NA does with FGO JP. One thing we can do, however, is take note of yearly patterns, which I'll elaborate on in the next and final section.
The Gacha Cycle and Motivation
In this final section, I'll breakdown and simplify the general schedule or cycle of playing a gacha game, as well as compile some general tips. Feel free to follow or not follow, add your own, contest them etc.; not everyone plays them the same way. Some can hardocre no-life grind, others get burnout, some are casual and so on.
In essence, here's how it goes.
Normally, you'll be progressing your story. The story mode battles will get harder and you'll need to raise units.
In between story and grinding nodes, there will be events. You might completely ignore doing story to grind the event. You get currencies and get mats, maybe clearing out the shop if you're determined.
Event ends, you might have some shiny new units from the limited banner and you raise them. You progress through story again as you become stronger. Along the way, you might be saving up keys to pull and other misc. things and looking forward to anniversary shenanigans.
Over the year, there may be the following themed events: New Years', Valentine's, White Day (just an assumption cause Korean company w/ Japanese VA), Halloween/Autumn festivals, Christmas, Anniversary and so on.
This repeats over and over, and once you're a pretty regular longtime player, you'll have a pretty strong account and can no brain most casual content. You might not even feel a need to clear out shops, or maybe you might only play when there's new content or to pull on banners. Maybe you don't even need to grind for money or mats AT ALL, and just stock up from events. OR you might become a hardcore whale and singlehandedly fund this game's future for the next decade. OR you can be perpetually poor like me and have to scrape things together for your ultra rare, but expensive units :,).
Some tips on choosing banners to roll:

• Sometimes I like to have a rule like rolling twice on every (limited) banner if there's a character I'm on the fence on wanting. Otherwise, zealously save your keys.
• I like to consider several factors when rolling: character, character story, design, skills, etc.
• If I know which limited characters will make a return, or that I know they will appear at least x times a year, I move them lower on the priority list.

On motivation:

• Honestly, unless it's required, I won't progress story if it gets really hard. I'll just focus on having fun in events and building up mats.
• I cut down on the time I need to spend in the game outside of events to curb burnout, especially during late-game.
• There are other more fun things to do in addition to just not playing the game, like reading the backlog of character stories (but it'll take time since in WHB unlocking them is affection based).
• Grinding feels easier to handle if you're just running nodes while doing smth else, especially once you're really strong. Just set up your units and semi-afk away.
• Don't feel pressured to complete all dailies/weeklies. To me, at least, they're kind of negligible. Useful early game maybe, might not matter as much once you have strong units. iykyk ;) (hint: pancake profit)

Some things I hope PrettyBusy will improve/implement:

• Pity system
• More ways of getting Tears
• Adjusting battle : story ratio (i'm sorry ya'll but imo it DOES NOT have to be 5 every story >.>)
• Auto-battle (like how Arknights will save your unit placement and skill timing, or just using stamina to get rewards while skipping the entire sequence)
• Ability to replay the chat/give more player control
• Bug fixes

I will say, however, that WHB seems to have the kind of system that's not very casual friendly. I'm mainly referring to the daily and weekly missions. Yeah, they're not THAT hard, but it still requires putting in a lot of stamina, which thankfully can just be burned via Secret Club, but imo the rewards are just ok.
For example, in FGO you can just skip daily/weekly missions, but doing them doesn't require much effort and the rewards are similarly quite small, though they do add up. Same with Arknights. I feel that there's not as much of pressure to do more than log in since it's low effort and low, but nice, rewards. Or maybe I'm just spoiled lol, or perhaps I'm just biased because I've been grinding and don't have a good grasp overall of whether or not it matters if you complete dailies/weeklies over the long run. Someone else can run the numbers LOL
Diff players will have different motivations, like the characters, story, or gameplay, and it's up to you to decide why you wanna play it. Ofc because it's a gacha, it's gonna inherently be pretty flawed cause it's designed to get you to grind and hopefully spend money due to FOMO. you do you!!!
That's about all I had to say about gacha games, hopefully this all helps in some way, idk I wrote this instead of doing my readings LMAO fight on my horni friends!!! may the rng gods be with you orz
also mods sorry if this is too off topic, but I thought it'd be relevant considering it's a new gacha game and there's a lot we don't know yet about the future of the game. thanks for reading this big ass brain barf if u do!!!!
edit: forgot to add but feel free to add any of your own tips/suggestions. game-wise or about gachas in general ^^

Before I write this, I want you to know I am currently sleep deprived.
I didn’t sleep at all last night, and I’m trying to write all this down before I go and see someone.
I’m not sure who the ‘someone’ is going to be. Maybe a friend, or my parents. A fucking psychiatrist—I don’t know.
Hopefully you will know what to do.
I don’t want to pile all of this on you. I just don’t know what to do myself. I’ve thought about it and tried to come up with some kind of solution, or maybe a way to prove that I’m fucking crazy and imagined all of this. I’ve been trying to figure out where I would put it, but again, I don’t know. Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Nobody is going to believe me, and on this sub full of freakish encounters, I think this counts as one.
I guess I should start by saying I already suffer from insomnia. I tried listening to podcasts, white noise, and even whale noises. According to pretty much every article on insomnia I can find, they’re supposed to be the solution. Well, they’re not the solution. If anything, they make it harder for me to sleep.
So, I tried podcasts, but the talking just distracts me from sleeping and I end up paying attention to whatever is being said. White noise gives me headache and playing Netflix on low sentences me to night-long binges of reality TV shows.
Nothing was working. I go on YouTube a lot. I watch videos before and after work and during meals, so it’s pretty much my substitute for TV. Like every other person my age, I guess. I watch a variety of things. Whether that’s movie reviews, cooking video’s or introspective video essay’s about everything from Sailor Moon to Gossip Girl. It was during my endless scrolling when I came across: “RAINY DAY IN OSAKA, JAPAN. (NO TALKING).
Curious, I clicked on it. I had always been curious about Japan. I have friends who want to move there purely for the food, and the culture, and I take a Duolingo class. It seems like a beautiful country, and the video showed me exactly what it said in the title, a real-life perspective of walking through Osaka. After sitting through that one, I found myself clicking on more.
There was night and day, night-life, and rush-hour. I got sucked in. I wanted to know the lives of everyone who walked past the camera, every glance, whether that was a man, woman, or a child. I found it fascinating that I could be in my bedroom in the middle of the night, huddled under my blankets with my headphones on—and with the click of a button, I was on the other side of the world, side-stepping an old woman holding an umbrella or a dog walker casting a smile my way under blooming cherry blossom. I admit, I got addicted. Not just because they were fun and therapeutic to watch, but they also sent me to sleep.
These videos were a blessing.
Last night was the usual. I curled up in bed and set up my laptop on my cupboard. I wanted something different, so I typed in “Japan” and “ASMR” and a dozen video’s popped up. Most of them were at a million views and were either vloggers or stream VODS. But one video caught my eye.
It was right at the bottom and was sitting at just over a thousand views.
The thumbnail was a 1080P quality image of looming trees and darkness swallowing up whatever was in the distance. I recognised the name in the title. Until then, I had been avoiding video’s featuring the infamous Japanese suicide forest.
The video’s I have watched are either incredibly insensitive influencer’s trying to make a “scare” for content, or serious looking docuseries following the history. The video looked like the usual. The title was in both Japanese and English: “Walking through Aokigahara forest at night (NO TALKING. 4D) and after hesitating for a moment, I decided to click on it and see what it was. The video, to my surprise, was almost two and a half years old. It was uploaded on February 9th 2020.
It had 2 likes—and the dislikes were hidden.
I clicked play and watched for a while. The video started with a POV shot of a small apartment with cream walls and rustic furniture. The camera man showed himself putting on his shoes and then his jacket and locking his door. The video jumped, then, to him getting out of his car and showing the parking lot in front of Aokigahara. It was perfect quality. I lay back and got comfy, satisfied with the crunching sounds of his boots on gravel—and then the thump, thump, thump of him walking up wooden steps. He did an immaculate job of showing everything.
I saw every moment in the trees and on the ground, skittering insets in the soil.
The sound quality was good too. I was listening to—the night. And the night sounded beautiful. So peaceful. As the POV trail began and the man’s breaths grew heavy from walking, I started to drift to sleep, lulled by the soft crunch of his shoes through the terrain.
The shot itself was well lit with a flashlight, illuminating an eerie pathway through tangled branches which almost looked like they were coming out of the screen when he got close enough to one.
At one point I had to blink rapidly to make sure he hadn’t shoved the camera into a tree, because of the maze of branches entangled, dancing in the dark. Aokigahara had always been at the pit of scary stories my friends told around a campfire, or legends and myths detailing supernatural goings on, as well as the very real tragic suicides the forest has become infamous for.
However, all I saw was beauty. I saw night in all of its vulnerability, allowing me access to every crevice of this tragically beautiful forest. At first, I couldn’t fall asleep. I was slipping initially, but I kept getting intrigued by the sudden snapping of branches and crunching growing louder—like there was someone behind the camera. When he reached a sign, zooming in on what looked like instructions detailed in hiragana and katakana, I heard something. It wasn’t the man’s shoes because he wasn’t moving.
Before I could really think about it, though, he turned and continued on the trail. But he hadn’t gone far before that same noise. Footsteps. They were in the trees, at least three sets of them. The guy didn’t seem to notice and nothing else happened for a proportion of the video. I closed my eyes once again. For a while, I was drifting in and out, occasionally slipping back to consciousness to see nothing had changed. I was getting used to the sound of the man’s footsteps, before a voice.
It came out of nowhere, and in the middle of Aokigahara at night, knowing nobody else would be walking this trail, my interest was piqued. The voice was a low murmur at first, more of a whisper in the tree’s easily mistaken for a breeze. Then, though, it was breaking the sound barrier, as well as the tranquil silence of night. A shiver crept down my spine. The voice didn’t belong. It didn’t make sense that it existed right there in the middle of nowhere, but it did. It was real.
“Excuse me!”
The voice was a guy. My age, or maybe a little younger. He had an accent. British. Very British.
“Dude, do you mind giving us some help?”
His words lingered in my mind for far too long.
Us?
There were more of them?
I stared at the screen and waited for someone to appear matching the voice, but there was nobody there.
The camera-man didn’t seem to notice, continuing on the trail.
“Hey. Look, I don’t speak a lot of Japanese, and—”
There was incoherent mumbling.
“…also, it’s my third time here, and I know I should be practically fluent by now but I’m not—"
The voice seemed to be lost in the trees, in wounded branches and brush. His voice was getting louder though, until I couldn’t deny its existence anymore—and a shadow suddenly bound out of the trees and stepped into the glow of the flashlight. At first, there was no discernible identity.
The camera focused on a face lit up in saturation before slowly a person bled through the blur. It was a guy. Just a guy. I don’t know how to describe him. He had dark hair poking under a bright green hooded sweatshirt and freckles. He looked out of breath but flashed the camera a friendly smile. “Ooh, cool. What are you filming? I actually tried making a YouTube channel, but I don't know what to post."
The camera guy ignored him to my surprise. So, he stepped in front of the camera, offering a shy wave.
“Hi.” He said. “Look, I don’t really know how we got here, honestly,” He laughed nervously. “Japan is kinda crazy, right? You’re standing outside a bar one minute, and then you’re trekking through a forest.”
Once again, he was ignored, and I could tell he was growing frustrated, but his smile only pricked wider. “Anyway!” Staying in shot, the guy cleared his throat. “We don’t know a lot of Japanese between us, and we were wondering if you speak English—and if you do that would be incredibly helpful, because reading the signs in this fucking forest is driving us crazy and we’re extremely lost, and, hey!”
Even I was even getting irritated with the camera guy’s ignorance.
I understood language barriers, but surely, he understood at least part of what the foreigner was saying
“Okay.” Freckles blew out a breath. “You don’t understand what I’m saying, but if you could--if you could just stop for a moment. We’re like, ridiculously lost, and we could really do with some help. Like, seriously. We don’t even know how we got here, and—"
He staggered back when the camera man took a turn further into the trees. But the kid wasn’t giving up, I noticed. He followed, motioning for two shadows I could glimpse at the corner of the camera to follow. I started to wonder if the camera man was scared of foreigners, or if he just didn’t speak English. There was that, but there was also the possibility that he just didn’t want to talk to him. Freckles did everything to try and get noticed—and failed miserably every time. It was kind of entertaining.
"Noah.” Another voice sounded—this time American.
I detected a southern accent in a tone which sounded far less chipper than Freckles. “Stop.” Another man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, joining Noah’s side. He was taller, a darker skin complexion, wearing a t-shirt with NSFW art on the front. “He’s not going to help us,” he said with gritted teeth. “Think about it. He’s a guy just casually cruising a forest in the middle of the night—and we’re random strangers. Of course, he’s going to be wary.”
The young man elbowed Noah.
“Besides, we haven’t tried my tactic yet.”
Noah rolled his eyes. In the exposure of the flashlight’s glare, I counted four freckles on each cheek.
“Oh, Jesus.” He groaned. “You’re going to get us arrested.”
“So? Isn’t getting arrested better than being stuck in a cursed forest?”
“It’s not cursed!”
“Then why are we stuck, huh? I’ve seen the same tree six times.”
“That’s an exaggeration.”
“You’re an exaggeration.”
“Your mom’s an exaggeration.”
Both of them scoffed and started laughing, and I found myself enjoying their stupid back and forth.
As their back and forth continued, the two followed the camera -man, occasionally diving in front of the camera.
“Okay, so.” NSFW guy joined the camera-guy’s side. “Do you have a phone?” He attempted broken Japanese, and his effort was pretty good, even if I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I think he was asking if the guy had a phone or something they could call for help with. He tried his best, but apparently it wasn’t enough.
At that point, I was used to the camera-man’s response. Complete ignorance. He kept walking, his breaths laboured. I noticed the man was heading deeper and deeper into the trees. I was sure hikers usually turned around at some point, but this guy’s destination was anyone's guess. A third guy came into view a little while later, when I noticed a dip in the ground—far rockier and harder to walk on—but he was more subdued and kept to himself, only offering quiet laughs at Noah and NSFW. The mood, however, grew progressively sourer as their footsteps fell in sync with the camera man.
Every so often Noah would start whistling, and then planting himself in front of the camera man. I could tell by the crease in his expression and the scowl in his lips, he was through playing around. Looking closer, and then pausing the video, I could almost mistake a look of feral desperation in his eyes.
He really wanted out of there.
“Mate.” He said, for probably the 3rd time. “This is getting stupid. You can't just keep ignoring us, I know you can hear me.” He choked out a laugh as the three of them followed the camera man, their frenzied footsteps crunching through the earth. “I mean, where the hell are you even going?”
“Hey, chill.” The soft spoken guy finally spoke in a murmur. “Poor guy’s probably trying to get away from us.”
Noah made a noise of protest, tripping over a branch. “What does he expect?” He hissed. “He’s completely fucking ignoring us! And what, filming some YouTube video? Is making movies really that important for this guy? Come on, this is so fucking stupid!" He laughed. "Isn't this guy like sixty? Realistically, what would he even be filming?"
"Birds?" NSFW shrugged, his eyes reflecting in the camera. "Wildlife, if I had to guess."
Noah cursed when he fell back, regaining his balance at the last minute. “He’s a literal boomer.” He grumbled, falling in step with the other two. “Why is he filming at night? Wouldn't it be better in the daylight?"
"Maybe he's a ghost," NSFW chuckled.
"That's not funny. Also, what ghost carries around a camera?"
The third guy groaned. "Can both of you please stop? We're probably scaring him."
NSFW laughed out loud this time. "Trust Noah to freak the guy out by being too British."
The three of them continued like that for a while. They argued for and against attempting to grab the guy’s phone, but they ended up just following the camera-man, hoping he’d at some point acknowledge them. I understood they were lost and needed help, but part of me was screaming at them to just turn around and attempt to figure it out themselves.
This guy just didn’t give a fuck, and clearly was on a mission they had no business joining. I realised that when they stepped through a small clearing, following the camera-guy. There was something hidden in the trees, and the closer the camera got, I realised I was staring at a small wooden cabin. It looked home-made and was dainty enough to be hidden in the trees, far away from the trail. When the camera man stopped for a moment, surveying a door made of planks, the three guys seemed to come to an abrupt stop. The sound was good. I swore I could hear a hitch of breath in the third guys throat. In the eerie glow of the flashlight, a wave of emotions washed over Noah’s expression, though I couldn’t catch a single one.
His eyes, which until then had been almost permanently rolling in frustration as he spat sarcasm at the others—grew dark. Hollow. It was the kind of darkness I didn’t know or understand. Not the darkness enveloping the forest and sky, more of an endless stretch of oblivion which was inescapable. But as fast as it had come, the hollowness faded, and he shook his head. I saw fear, for a moment. Past fear that he had suppressed. Before he blinked it away. Noah pursed his lips and stepped back with a laugh. “Nope.” He said in a breath. “Yeah, no. I’m not going in there.”
He walked over to the door and pulled off a cheap looking sign which said, “Home Sweet Home.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “I’m not a fucking idiot. This shit in the middle of nowhere?" He waved the sign. "Yeah, this guy has definitely got skeletons in his closet.”
“Agreed.” NSFW muttered. His gaze was stuck to the door, his lips twitching. “We should… probably get going. Like, now. This place is freaking me the fuck out."
The third guy didn’t speak, and I could barely see him—just a glimmer of dark hair and baseball cap behind Noah.
I watched him take several steps back, before gesturing to the others to follow.
“There’s nothing here.” He finally said stiffly. “We should go.” I could sense the panic in his voice. “Now. We need to go now."
Noah laughed. “Well, duh. That’s why we’re going. Lighten up would ya?"
The third guy sighed. “I’ll ‘lighten up’ when we’re far away from here. This place is not where you want to be in the middle of the night."
Noah saluted the camera-man. "Well! Thanks for nothing, dude. You really helped. Good luck with your YouTube career."
NSFW scoffed. “Could have just told us to fuck off, but sure.”
The two of them fell in line with the third guy.
“What do you think he’s doing out here?”
“Dunno. Definitely shady.”
The three of them disappeared into the trees—and all I heard was their back and forth, and laughter before a sharp breeze drowned them out completely. Now that he was alone, the camera-man headed into the cabin. It looked as cosy as a cabin in the middle of the woods can look. There was a threaded couch and a rug, and a small closet where he kicked off his shoes and pulled off his jacket, throwing them inside. Before he shut the door, I caught something, and the taco I had before bed crawled right back up my throat. Blinking rapidly, I paused the video and then I leaned in and squinted so I was making sure what I was seeing was really there. It was. I mean, I looked at it from every angle. I paused and played the video until I was absolutely certain. Underneath all the man’s coats and hats and shoes, was the NSFW sweater.
I knew it was the same one, because the camera quality gave me that luxury. I noticed when he was wearing it, there was a slight tear at the bottom. I was staring at the exact same one. But that wasn’t all. When I really looked, when I dragged the video forwards and backwards, I was seeing converse caked in dirt, a baseball cap, and bright green hoodie. I had seen the hoodie. I saw the NSFW sweater. How could they be here? How could they be in this man's possession? When I sat back, the world swam around me. I could have turned it off. I could have shut my laptop, gotten under my blankets, and forced myself to sleep.
But I didn’t.
I pressed play, and the camera-man headed into the tiny living area he’d made himself before kneeling on the ground, taking the camera with him. His fingers gripped at worn wooden planks and ripped them away, revealing a hole in the ground—and in that hole… plastic?
I paused it again. The hole was filled with trash bags. When I played it, however, and he started pulling them out revealing what was really there, my heart sank into my gut and my mouth filled with something acidic, something strong enough to trigger my gag reflex. I was seeing expensive leather combined with iPhone’s and passports. The man surprised me by finally making a noise; a sharp squeak of hysterics rolling off his tongue in panting guffaws. It was the sound of an animal before a meal—a ravenous growl, as he grasped hold of the pile of belongings, grasping phones and wallets, scratching at cracked screens and old leather. There was a point when I closed my laptop and buried my head in my knees. It’s not real, I kept thinking. It’s not real. It’s not real. But no matter how many times I lied to myself, I knew that what I saw was reality. I couldn’t help it.
Now that I had seen traces of the truth, I wanted to know more. I wanted to know this man’s filthy secret. The video followed on as ‘normal’ with him sitting down and taking out a flask before swigging it. He started laughing again, and he didn’t stop until his flask was empty. I waited for him to do something else, but the video jumped. It was bad editing, an attempt at stitching footage together. Backwards. This time I wasn’t looking at his cabin in the middle of Aokigahara. I was in the same apartment the video had started in. Something ice cold slid down my spine when I recognised Noah, NSFW, and the nameless third friend sitting around a wooden table strewn with bottles of sake. The three of them were clearly drunk, but also bewildered and confused why they were even there. I’d heard about these kinds of scams. Tourists being lured into cult-like groups only to be scammed of all of their cash. This though, looked more personal. Like they were visiting the man.
They looked out of place—three foreigners inside a quiet shoebox apartment. The third friend had glitter on his cheek from what seemed like a night out, and NSFW had a bath towel on his head.
Noah was frowning at something on the table.
I recognised it.
“What is this?” Noah picked up the same sign with, “Home Sweet Home.” in colourful italics. He turned to face the others, his lips curling into a smile. “Hey, so when I turn 25, will I automatically just start to like these?” He waved the sign mockingly.
“No.” The third guy said through a mouthful of drink. He shot Noah a grin. “You’ll never change.”
“Good.” Noah dropped the sign. “I would rather die than live, laugh, love, or whatever."
“Fuck.” NSFW’s head hit the table. “I’m gonna be sick.”
Noah jumped up, grabbing a bottle of sake, and downing it like water.
I winced when he pulled a face like he’d sucked a lemon. “We’re gonna get going.” He announced, desperately trying not to slur his words. "I need a shower and sleep, and to maybe text Wendy if she's not still mad at me."
"She is." NSFW shot him a grin. "You forgot her birthday, and you were hanging with that Australian girl earlier."
"I didn't forget! I fucking told her my mum…" His expression creased. "Well, she's sick. She's got eight months, man. I have to spend every minute left I have with her."
"Tell her that."
Noah slammed his head into the table. "I can't just…" He shook his head. "No, we're not talking about this right now, we need to leave." His slightly unfocused eyes found the camera.
"Hey, do you mind…not filming us?"
When the camera stayed on his face, the guy rolled his eyes. "Or continue."
NSFW lifted his head. “Do we have to leave?"
“Yeah. If you want to get back to the hotel and not get murdered by our tour-guide.”
The camera man sat silently filming everything, and that only made me feel sicker.
When the footage jumped forwards again, the living room had a lot of- colour to it. The scene had changed. This time I slammed my hand over my mouth, gagging a vicious slime creeping it's way back up my throat. NSFW was lying on his stomach, a knife perforating his neck, a seemingly endless stream of scarlet pooling underneath him and dripping onto the floor. This is the part I didn’t fully watch. Because I couldn’t. The act was showed in graphic detail, over and over again like it was meant to be shown to someone. An audience.
Like this was someone’s punishment. In flickering shots only differential from the amount of blood on the couch and table, I saw Noah passed out on the sofa—his eyes opening, mouth widening, before the same knife which had butchered NSFW plunged into his stomach. At one point he tried to defend himself, but his hands went limp around the knife blade, his head lolling to the side, lips still curled into a silent cry spilling intense red. But the man didn't stop. Even when he was half-dead. Over and over again, like a fucking movie. Until Noah was unrecognisable, and the man, screaming, laughing, bringing the blade down and plunging it into spattered gore.
He left the camera rolling until the two of them were masses of scarlet and bubbling flesh on a cream carpet. The worst thing is, I didn’t see what he really did to them. I only saw pieces. I just knew they suffered.
I knew that the torture was endless until they begged to die. I was shown in glimpses. NSFW kneeling over Noah and yelling something, his mouth open in a silent, tragic scream.
I didn’t hear it. He muted them. He only showed what he wanted me—or anyone else—to see.
The soft spoken guy bled into the footage towards the end. I don’t think he knew. I think he went to the bathroom, or maybe to crash somewhere. His eyes, his expression, when seeing the scene in front of him will haunt me for the rest of my life.
And this time the man didn’t take his time like the others too. The third friend dived over the couch and attempted to get to the other’s side, but the man grabbed his leg and yanked him to the ground—but he was ready, rolling onto his back and crawling, grasping at the fibre of the carpet, his hands pooling red from trying to staunch the wound in NSFW’s neck which was passed saving. I don’t want to type this, but I think the guy gave up. Something in him snapped, and he stopped trying to get away, only curling into a ball and attempting to shield the camera-man’s frenzied hits. He missed most of them, thank God. The psycho’s momentum was fading. When he realised he wasn’t going to get anywhere by stabbing, he grabbed the guy by the hair, wrenched his head back, and plunged the blade in. I don't know where the impact was.
At that point I was screaming, trying to stab the pause button. I finally barfed up what had been burning in my throat. I didn’t need to watch more. I didn’t have to. But I couldn’t fucking stop.
I couldn’t fucking stop, so what does that say about me? Did I enjoy watching it, or was it morbid curiosity? Like looking away from a detailing train. It was like being in a trance. The world around me didn’t seem real. I lost all sense of smell and touch. My bedroom was like another universe, disconnected and wrong. It was around the time the man filmed himself severing limbs in his bathtub when it hit me that this was for entertainment. I didn’t know who’s.
His, some sick bastard who had liked the video—but he had filmed, edited, and put this together for someone to watch. For someone to watch him stuff each severed limb in a blender and then pour into a flask. He filmed himself cleaning everything up and gathering belongings—before heading into his little cabin in the forest. The man stopped at a tree before emptying the flask. And then he did it several more times, and the more I watched, I could feel my brain starting to unravel, my body finally catching up to it. Finally, the man threw their clothes inside his closet, and stuffed their phone’s and passports under the floorboards. He started laughing again, more and more hysterically like a cartoon.
He walked out into broad daylight and inhaled, and then exhaled—and I swore I could hear voices.
Faded, but definitely real.
“Hey! Excuse me, can you tell us where we are? We’re, uh—we’re kind of lost.” this time Noah's voice sounded like ocean waves.
“Hello. Dude, I’m talking to you.”
“You don’t have to ignore us!”
“Seriously? You’re just going to walk right past—hey! I don't know much Japanese, sure, but at least give us directions!"
I was barely aware of the video once again jumping forwards.
It was raining, and the world was lit up in dulled blues and vivid reds. The camera’s POV was an alleyway filled with stores, crowds of people walking in groups or individually. The man stood under an umbrella. His attention was first on the ramen shop, and then a girl walking past clutching textbooks to her chest. Before it flicked to a group of people laughing and joking, some of them holding bottles.
He seemed to be waiting for something. When the crowd dispersed, I glimpsed a familiar bright green hoodie. Noah, standing in the rain with his hood up, high fiving a girl with blonde pigtails and a wide grin. The two of them were talking, and they seemed close, his head on her shoulder. The girl said something which looked like “I’ll be right back” and wandered back into the bar, and Noah leaned against the wall and tipped his head back, frowning at the sky. His smile was drunken, wise, unseeing eyes marvelling the dull orange glow in front of him. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a glitter of emotion as if he could already sense the night ahead. I already knew what the man was going to do. He did it in three strides, planting himself in front of Noah. He said something in Japanese, but when Noah frowned in confusion, his gaze no doubt wandering for someone to help him, the man laughed heartily.
“Free drinks.” He said in English, and then he said it repeatedly until a drunken Noah's eyes lit up with intrigue.
“Free drinks?” The boy's expression pricked—before the other two joined him, the two of them stumbling.
NSFW, and the third friend.
They had no idea, I thought. I found it terrifying and painfully inevitable, that these guy's lives were trapped in this footage and could be looped whenever anyone wanted. I could rewind the footage and still see their very alive faces, and then just go back half a minute, and witness their deaths. I think that is what the video wanted me to understand. That it could flip back from life to death, and it's creator, it's maker, revelled in every minute of it. The camera lingered on Noah's face, almost like a tease. He smiled, and the camera zoomed right into his mouth. Like this had been the punchline all along.
“Well, who wouldn't want free drinks?”

It's been several days, I apologise.
Far longer than I promised. I tried writing last night and the night before, but my brain can only take so much. If I think too hard or fully immerse myself in the memories, it hurts. It really fucking hurts. To the point of me screaming. I can't stop screaming, and it feels like I'm drowning. But I want to continue.
It’s hard to look back on what myself and my classmates went through; the filthy secret our town hid from us for 18 years. I have to. If I don't, everything that happened will be nothing but a memory, a haunting nightmare in the back of my mind that keeps me up most nights.
I know this sounds awful and if I'm honest, I feel like I am hurting myself. Punishing myself.
But I want to relive those emotions. What I felt. What we felt. I want to go back and experience it all again, so I can tell myself that it's real. It happened. For me to fully accept what happened to us, it needs to be in writing. I read your comments and I would rather not respond to them until I am finished writing our story.
My story, Bobby, and Nick's. The story behind Aceville's existence as well as our own. If I'm going to tell you everything, then there will be more parts. I'm not sure how many.
As many as it takes, I guess. In a way, I feel like I'm turning my experience into a book of sorts.
Anything to bring light to Aceville, and what they did to us. When Nick rescued me from my inevitable fate as a red, as a defect, I was still seeing my mother holding the gun pointing between my eyes. I was still seeing her vacant eyes drinking me in as a target, not a daughter. But I don't want to talk about my mom.
I'm afraid if I do, I will shatter.
Here's a question for you.
When you look at your best friend, what do you think? Do you feel happiness? Melancholy?
Maybe that person is no longer close to you and is a stranger.
Does it hurt when you catch glimpses of them? I know it does. I know exactly how you feel.
You have memories with them, those you have and will cherish forever, and yet when you look at them now after so many years of being apart—it is like looking at a stranger.
Like looking through a foggy mirror. As if nothing was there in the first place.
Instead of what you had there is nothing, a deep cavern of darkness and emptiness where something used to be. That was the exact feeling I had when I looked at Nick when I tried to piece together my best friend from the splintered pieces of what I was staring at.
It was dark, and yet I saw all of him. And I didn't want to. I wanted the darkness to consume us completely so I didn't have to register what I was looking at. Nicholas Castor had been one of the most popular guy's in our year, blessed with boyish curls and freckles speckling pale cheeks. Now I was looking at someone who sounded like him, smelled like him, but wasn't... him. He couldn't be. The Nick I'd known since freshman year was textbook boy-next-door. In my blurry vision and consumed in the darkness of overhead trees, all I saw was red where his face was supposed to be. All I saw was red, and I couldn't understand it. I couldn't understand that the figure standing in front of me was Nick. Because Nick wasn't this.
I rarely saw him cry and Nick was sobbing, his chest heaving, his breaths short and panicky. My head spun when his hand snaked around my bicep, and he yanked me to the ground with a forceful tug. When my knees hit the dirt I barely felt the impact. Lowering myself, I pressed myself into the forest floor. Nick didn't let go of me, only strengthening his rock-hard grip on my arm. "We need to stay down." he gasped out, his voice slurred and wrong.
I kept getting the overwhelming urge to check him. I had to. I had to know he was okay. Except when I tried, Nick hissed at me not to move. He let out a strangled breath, pulling me further into the dirt. I choked on the taste of moss and old leaves, but I was thankful to be with him—far away from what should have been my execution at the hands of... her.
"Chances are the bastards figured out I escaped. Which is baaad…" He choked out in a slur. "They'll shorely be luhrking fer me."
In the distance I glimpsed a search light illuminating the darkness beginning to sweep the perimeter of the camp. After what felt like years of lying in the dirt, waiting for the lights to dim down, they did. When I finally lifted my head and forced myself to look at Nick, a fresh slither of barf crawled up my throat.
I lost my breath all over again. Everything that I'd known was gone; his curls, which had been sheered away leaving him half bald. The flaps of bloodied flesh that used to be Nick's cheeks almost looked like they were moving, like they were alive. His right eye hung out of its socket in almost a cartoon-like fashion. His clothes from earlier had been replaced with clinical white shorts and t-shirt, both of which were splattered red, different hues of the colour splashed down his front. He was barefoot, his knees sinking into the mud. I was hit with a memory; the two of us and Bobby at thirteen years old sitting in the dirt with a picnic lain out in front of us. I remember not caring about the state of my legs and clothes.
Back then, Nick had been grinning through a mouthful of PB&J.
Now, though, my friend looked so... vulnerable. So childlike. Like he was thirteen again. I couldn't—I couldn't stop staring at him. He offered me a smile which sickened me. Because unlike his face, his teeth were perfect. Nick had been bullied in the fourth grade for having crooked teeth. Now, however, they were straightened and pearly white. Almost unnatural white. That didn't make any sense. Whatever had happened had ruined his face and fixed his teeth.
I couldn't resist. Sitting on my knees, I reached out with shaking hands and grasped his face, cradling it to make sure it was his. And it was. It was still the Nicholas Castor I'd known since freshman year. He had the same smell of cheap axe spray and the earthy, flowery aroma of the exotic plants in his bedroom. It had always been the three of us. Me, Nick and Bobby. The three musketeers. Nothing would take that away. Even when I could barely recognise him anymore.
Nick pulled away after a moment, like he was ashamed. But I knew Nick. I knew he would never show me that he was hurt. Ashamed. In pain. Even when I knew he was.
That wasn't him. "Stop staring." He let out a shaky laugh and turned away, thankfully the slur was wearing off. His right eye bounced below its socket and I had to avert my gaze.
If I didn't I'd laugh, or cry. "I look like a rejected horror movie," He said, on the edge of hysteria.
"If I wasn't on cloud nine right now, I'd be freeeaakiiing the fuck out." Nick cocked a brow at me. "I actually look pretty cool though, right? You know, like a cyborg." He was smiling, and I don't know how he was smiling, but the hysterical sobs escaping his lips told a whole different story. I felt my own eyes prick with tears. Bobby was in that building, and I had no idea if she was dead or alive. But I had to focus on Nick. I had to focus on keeping him calm, keeping him from breaking apart.
"Nick." I couldn't think straight, never mind speak. What happened? The words were bubbling in my throat, ready to burst out in anger and pain that someone had done this to him; that someone was going to do this to Bobby. However, I managed to hold myself.
I stayed calm for his benefit, and let him catch his own breath, allowing his body to grow still. I pulled off my shirt and scrunched it into a ball, gently dabbing at the bloody splotches on his face. The cool breeze tickled my bare skin, and it felt good, pulling me back to reality.
"It's going to be okay," I whispered. "We'll get you help."
It was a relief to be rid of the shirt which had labelled me as a defect. When I gently pressed it to Nick's right eye socket, careful not to press too much pressure, he winced and let out a soft whine, but he didn't speak. "I'm okay." He said in a whispered hiss, his left eye surveying me in the dark. Neither of us spoke for a moment. I found myself lost in my own melancholy. I couldn't stop thinking about Bobby. She was a Blue. She was exactly what they wanted.
But Nick—he was a Purple. They needed him too. So why had they done that to him?
"I need you to do something." He took a shaky step away from me and folded his arms across his chest, his gaze on the ground. Unsteady on his feet, Nick fought to stay upright. I grabbed his arm, steeling him. He paced back and forth, his breathing growing progressively more and more erratic. "We're getting Bobby out of there, but I need help. Like, serious help."
He sniffled, trying to smile, eventually, his grin splintering into a pained grimace.
I nodded, but the question was spewing from my mouth before I could stop it. I couldn't stop tears running down my face. I tried to blink them away, but they kept coming. "Nick, what did they do to you?"
He held my gaze for a moment, before turning around and stripping off his own shirt. Again, unlike his face, his body was perfect. More than perfect. Nick had never been bothered about maintaining a figure. He was naturally thin with a good metabolism. He didn't need to go to the gym. But under the trees in minimal light, I saw toned back muscles. When he turned to face me, his lower torso was ripped to perfection.
Again, I thought, my head spinning. Why was everything else perfect except his face? It was almost a laughable sight. But I didn't laugh. Not when the boy could barely stand straight. "There's something inside me," he whispered, scratching at the back of his neck. His fingernails clawed at the flesh like an animal, frenzied and desperate. "You need to get it out."
Before I could speak, he was pulling something from his jeans, something that glinted in the dark. Nick clenched it between his fist, his teeth gritted. "I need you to cut it out," he said. "I was... I was lucky. My machine was faulty, so it wasn't able to complete whatever it was trying to do," He gestured to his face with the blade. "That's why I'm half-finished. If you can even call it that."
His words sent shivers rattling down my spine. My gaze went to his toned chest and perfect teeth. That's what happened. Whatever "processing" meant, it was full-body. Nick's had gone wrong and had messed up his face. I opened my mouth to ask why, why they were doing this to us, but he was thrusting the blade into my hand.
“I've tried, Addie," he choked out, "I've tried to get it out myself, but I can't—I can't fucking reach it!" Letting out a hiss of frustration, Nick curled my fingers around the blade. "It's some kind of chip or tracker, something that they're inevitably going to activate. And then we're both fucked."
I found myself nodding, biting my lip to suppress a scream when his quaking fingers danced over a scar marked into his skin. The incision point, I thought. It must be. I don't know what possessed me. With the blade in my hand I started forwards, but I couldn't do it. Even when I knew it was dangerous. I could lose Nick at any point. His words, what he had said, described, were sending me into a tailspin.
All at once, the bottom fell out of me. I shook my head and staggered back, tripping over a rock jutting from the ground. "I can't!" I shrieked. I was trying to ignore it, but my body was in fight-or-flight mode. I had to find Bobby. I had to find her and get her out. Before it happened to her. That was all I could think. My mouth shut to stop a screech tearing from my throat. I needed to find her. The thought was driving me fucking crazy, I couldn't think of anything but Bobby. I didn't notice I was kneeling in the dirt, my head between my knees, until I was struggling to breathe.
Inhale and exhale. That's what it took. That's what was supposed to help a panic attack. But it wasn't – it wasn't working. I was screaming into my lap, my body shaking, my hands clawing at my hair. Seeing Nick like that and knowing—knowing what they were capable of. The people who had looked after us for eighteen years and thrown us like lambs to the slaughter. I couldn't—
I couldn't breathe. I was going.. I was going to die. That was all I could think. My lungs felt starved of oxygen, my chest—it hurt. My stomach felt like it was trying to projectile into my throat.
"Addie." Nick's voice was a gentle murmur I couldn't ignore. I felt his soft touch tingle across my arms as if unsure whether to grab me or not. But he did. He gripped gently, pulling me to my feet, his sticky hands coming to cradle my face, forcing me to look at him. “You can do this." He said, and when I shook my head and tried to pull away, he tightened his grip.
"I know you're scared, and you need some kind of reassuring pep talk," Nick choked out a laugh. "Trust me, I'd give you one if we had time. But we don't. Bobby is still in there and the sooner you get this thing out of me, the sooner we can get her and others out. Okay?" I realized Nick was crying, and Nick never cried. When I offered him my scrunched up shirt to use as a gag, he shook his head. "Just do it."
I complied. I had to squint to see the incision properly. When I stuck the blade in and made a small cut, he didn't even flinch. "It's okay," Nick reassured me to keep going, his clammy fingers entangling with mine, coaxing me further down the curve of his neck. "I can't even feel it."
Something ice cold slithered down my spine at the thought of my best friend being unable to feel the sensation of blades slicing into his flesh. Somehow, he was becoming more and more inhuman the more I stayed with him. "You can't feel it?" I hissed out. My hand holding the scalpel was shaking. "What do you mean you can't feel it? I'm.. I'm cutting into you–"
"Didn't you hear what I said?" He surprised me by snapping. "They dosed me with enough fucking tranquilliser to knock out a whale, and that's before they injected my brain with shit which made me feel like I was flying. So, yeah, I'd say I'm pretty numb right now."
I didn't reply, my gaze on the cut, slicing deeper. Blood pooled from the wound and I blotted it with my shirt as best as I could, but it still ran in sharp rivulets down the back of his shirt. "Nick." Swallowing hard, I focused on getting as much out of him as possible. I hated that I was doing this to him, forcing him to relive what had happened. But I had to know what was going on. "What are they doing in there?"
For a moment, I thought he wasn't going to respond. All at once it was like his whole body was reacting to my words, beginning to rattle once more. Instantly, his attempt at putting up a wall crumbled. His teeth were chattering, every word caught in a hysterical breath.
"It's a… factory." He whispered "Like... like a conveyor belt. We were sorted into colours, right? Red, Purple and Blue. Red's were killed, and Purples and Blues were taken into that building. I saw the Blue's taken upstairs. The last time I saw Bobby, she was being herded away with a bunch of others. And we were taken into this... into this room. It was a bright room. It hurt my eyes, and we were all told we were going to be, I dunno, processed, or some shit like that? Whatever they were doing was whack, man. There was nowhere to run. I tried to, me and a group of guys. They just attacked us like we were fuckin' animals."
His whole body shuddered and I paused with the scalpel for a moment. There was barely any light, so I had to squint. At first I thought it was a trick in the dark to confuse me. But when I looked closer, there it was. Nick was right. Something small and metal, like a grain of rice, was sandwiched inside the cut.
"It's okay," I grabbed onto his shoulders and squeezed hard, steeling him to reality. "It's okay, Nick. I'm here. Keep going." I urged him.
If I could keep Nick talking, I could kill two birds with one stone; get the tracker out of his neck and find out what the camp were doing to Blues and Purples. I remember skinning my knee as a little kid, getting grits of cement stuck in the wound. I remember hating the idea of something like that being inside me, a foreign object tangled between my flesh. Mom told me it was just sensory overload. When the teeth of the scalpel bit further into the incision, I had to bite my teeth into my lower lip to avoid jumping back and dropping the instrument.
I could already feel it slipping from my grasp, teasing it's way through my slippery fingers.
Nick's words were sending my thoughts into a tailspin. Processing.
That word kept popping up, and it was making me progressively more nauseous.
"Processing." I whispered. "What do you mean?"
"Like I'm supposed to know!" He hissed out a laugh. "Do you expect a documented experience? It was fucked up! That's all I know. All I can…all I can fuckin' think of."
"Think." I said. "I know it hurts, but you have to try."
Nick exhaled shakily, his breath dancing in the air in front of us. "It was... it was a machine," he said softly. "They grabbed us before we could do anything, and before I knew what was happening, something was pricking my neck. I woke up… at the dentist." His sudden splutter of laughter made me jump, his body writhing with him.
"Well, it was… it was like the ones at the—at the dentist, anyway. I tried to get up, but I was held down. There were people standing over me…like…like ghosts. These machines came down from the ceiling, and I couldn't... I couldn't stop it. I couldn't get out. They... they had me tied down, and I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe—I couldn't fucking breathe!"
When his body jolted suddenly, I withdrew the scalpel from the cut where I was trying to use it to dig out the tracker. Keeping a gentle hold on his shoulder, I fought against a cry of my own. "Mine was faulty." He whispered. "It… it wasn't working correctly, and I think that is what saved me, you know? How lucky is that, right? The Purple's were supposed to be fixed. We were supposed to be made perfect." With another explosive laugh, his body rattled again. "They injected me with something to screw with my brain. But the thing was faulty. So all it did... all it did was fuck up my face." When Nick trailed off I thought he was done. But after a pause, he tensed, and I felt his chest racking with sobs. I felt his legs struggling to stay upright. "I can still... I can still hear them."
It was almost out. I managed to scoop up the tracker, but the incision was too small.
"Hear who?"
"Them." His words came out in a broken wail. "I can still hear the sounds of blades and saws and knives, and cutting, and... they screamed, Addie. They screamed until the shit they gave us took effect. But it didn't—it didn't work on me because mine—mine was faulty. So I... oh god, I had to… I had to listen to it."
When he bowed his head, I took the opportunity to pull out the thing, but it was caught on something. My hands were slick with his blood, and I forced myself to stay calm.
Nick was sobbing uncontrollably, and I couldn't console him. Not when he was in that state, his mind somewhere else entirely, caught in that memory. "I couldn't feel anything, but I could hear it." He said stiffly. “I could hear what they were doing to me. I could hear the blades slicing into my skin and ripping away my flesh, tearing at my lips and my hair, scraping my freckles and my flaws, the spots I've had since birth, even my eye. The bastards tried scooping them out. But, like I said, whatever it was that was doing this to me, it was ass. One of the blades was stuck, or not working. They were doing something to me. They were trying to make me like... like Bobby. Like the Blues. They were trying to make me perfect. Just like them."
Nick's words felt like knives cutting into my spine. After another attempt at pulling out the tracker, this time I managed it, taking it from where it was threaded with tissue underneath the flesh. "I've got it." I let out a relieved breath, pulling out the tracker.
Pinched between my thumb and forefinger it was tiny, a blue light emitting from the base. When I got a proper look at it, it reminded me of a bug. And I swore there were tiny metal antennas sticking from the front. I expected Nick to reply, but he didn't. He stayed very still, his head bowed. I don't think he noticed I'd gotten the chip out. I crushed it between my fingers and dropped it on the ground.
When I gently turned him around, Nick's gaze was on the ground. His voice was a low murmur, like he was reliving it. "They were supposed to fix me." He whispered. “But instead... instead they turned me into this," he exhaled out a breath. "I was waiting for them to scrape the flesh off my bones, but they—they stopped.
And I was conscious enough to know what was... was happening. I got out of my restraints when the machine stopped moving. I think…I think the process was done. Or at least... it was supposed to be done. When I got up I saw the others. But they weren't like this." He prodded at his mutilated face.
"I checked everyone. Noah Hargreaves and Cass Blake. Danny Rue. All of them. They were just lying there. And they were…" He drifted off with a frustrated sigh.
"Perfect." I cut in, and his head jerked up in surprise. He nodded.
"Yeah." Nick swiped at his good eye. "They were perfect."
"Then," He continued. "I ran. I yanked off one of the blades from one of those machines and I made a break for it. There were no guards. At least they weren't in the room I was in. So I ran, and I found you." When he caught my eye, Nick seemed to snap out of it. Blinking rapidly, he scrunched up his face like he was coming out of a trance. His hand went to the back of his neck, grazing the cut.
"Did you get it out?"
I nodded. "It's gone," I said shakily. "It reminded me of a bug."
"A bug?"
"Yeah. It looked like it had antennae."
Something had been bothering me, and it seemed the best time to say it. "Those trackers. Were they inside us before camp? Or was it injected when you were taken?"
He shrugged, running a hand through what was left of his hair. "That's what I was afraid of. It would make sense how they knew exactly where we were when we were planning to bail town. Which means…" Nick's gaze flitted to me, his lip curling. The boy didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. Already, my skin felt like it was crawling, like that thing was burrowed inside me.
Swallowing hard, I gingerly pressed my fingers to the back of my neck. "How did you know there was a tracker inside you?"
"I think the machine caught it," he muttered. "It must have dislodged it, because I could feel something…moving."
"Moving?" Thinking back to the tracker, my skin crawled.
"Yep." He looked like he might say something before what sounded like the lovechild of a dentist drill and car alarm slammed into my skull. The force of it nearly took me to my knees, but Nick's grasp held me upright.
I slammed my hands over my ears, biting through the noise which burrowed its way into my brain, taking an unyielding hold. "Shit!" Nick yelled over the sound. He seemed better acclimated to the sound, which confused me. While my mouth was filling with blood, black spots dancing across my vision, he was on his feet, his body reacting to the noise. But not in a way I understood. "That's the alarm. They're probably looking for me." His hand travelled up my arm, and he pulled me forwards.
“If we're getting Bobby out, we're going now, okay? The guards should be distracted, so if we keep a low profile, we should be fine." Before I could answer, he was wrapping me into a hug, and I missed those hugs. I thought I'd be hugging him like that when we left for college and parted ways, but that life of mine was gone. "It'll be okay. We're getting Bobby, and we're going away from here. All of us. We'll go far away, make a life for ourselves."
I was already clinging onto his promises of a life far away from Aceville. One of our own. "Right." I found myself spluttering, stumbling in the dark. The alarms were still blaring, branches scratching at my bare legs. But I was on a beach somewhere, at least in my mind. Miami or California, under a crystal blue sky. Nick was on his knees searching for something. I stood and wrapped my arms around myself to keep warm. I wouldn't think about Bobby. That's what I kept telling myself. I wouldn't think about what Nick had gone through, and if that was what processing meant for Purples, what did it mean for Blues?
"We'll.. we'll live in one of those fancy apartments." I shouted, pressing my hands over my ears to block out the screeching sound trying to creep its way into my brain.
"We'll get jobs, or go to college," Nick continued in sharp breaths. He picked up my discarded shirt and threw it at me. "Wear it inside out until we get inside. That way they won't clock you're a red." His expression crumpled, and before I could stop him, swiped at my face with his back hand. I could already tell he was worried.
"Are you–"
I nodded. "Yeah. It's just a nosebleed."
Nick didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "Jeez, Addie. You look worse than me."
Nick pulled on his own shirt, and I had no choice but to do what he said. My shirt was damp with Nick's blood, but I forced it over my head anyway, grabbing his hand. I didn't want to let go. I was scared that if I did, I'd lose him. For real this time. Not just the memories of him, the face I'd grown up with. All of him. Nick broke out into a grin, and for a moment I didn't feel helpless. The crushing weight on my chest lifted slightly. "What?" He gestured to his face, cocking a brow. "Does it look bad?"
Opening my mouth to try and say no, try and sugar-coat it, I realized he didn't deserve that. "You look tolerable." I managed to get out, even when tears were welling in my eyes again. Though Nick just shoved me playfully, giving my hand a squeeze. It hurt me that he was trying to reassure me and keep me from splintering, uncaring about himself. Though part of me knew he wouldn't allow himself to break. Because if he did, so would I. And we would never get Bobby out. Shooting me another grin with too-white-teeth, Nick started forwards, pulling me with him. "See. I'm going to need you to say super positive, alright? We'll get through this."
I kept to his side as we marched through the thicket of trees.
When we approached the camp once again, the top of the building poking through the trees, Nick stumbled. I'd noticed he'd gotten clumsy footed, struggling to walk straight without my help.
"Nick," I gripped his hand so tight I felt my nails slice into his flesh. "Can you walk?"
He shot me a pained smile. "Do you want me to answer seriously?"
Slowly, we edged towards the building. The bodies of the dead kids were being picked up and thrown in a pile, like they were trash. With one hand covering his severed eye and the other clutching mine, Nick pulled me inside. It reminded me of a school mixed with a hospital. Every wall was white, the floor matching. I was immediately blinded by bright light. I tried not to look at Nick but it was impossible not to.
He stood out in the allure; his once handsome face reduced to ugly strips of flesh, his right eye hanging cartoonishly out of its socket. The freckles I had known since I was a kid were gone, scraped into oblivion, with the rest of the memory of him. There was a long narrow corridor that seemed to go on forever, twisting and turning. We made our way slowly, ducking down when guards passed ahead. I could hear voices getting closer. Nick pulled me to his side, his breaths warm in my ear.
"If I can remember correctly, it's three floors up. When I was taken to be processed, I overheard one of them say blues are on the third floor." He gasped out. "They're taken to be polished and straightened out, while Purples are fixed." He used air quotes with one hand. "And red's..." he trailed off. "We should probably talk about your narrow escape from death." suddenly, his expression and eyes were sympathetic, and so… Nick. "When I found you, they had killed almost all of them." He whispered. "Addie, she was going to–"
"I don't want to talk about her."
Nodding, Nick pressed his lips together. "I bet it's aliens. They've taken control of our parents, and must want us for something."
Aliens.
Somehow, it was better than the alternative, which I was praying wasn't real.
"Aliens make sense." I whispered back to make myself feel better. I gestured around us. "And this… this must be their mothership, right?"
Nick sent me a grin, and I could tell he too was happy playing into the fantasy. "Then we go Independence Day on their asses."
He dragged me down the corridor, managing a cloak-and-dagger run I felt wrong inside that building. I felt… filthy, my muddy feet tainting perfect white marble flooring. I was the defect. I was supposed to die outside, by my mother's hand. Nick, strangely, looked like he belonged.
"How do you know so much about this place?" I said in a sharp breath as we ran across the corridor. Nick seemed to know where he was going, which made me wonder if he was as inebriated as he had claimed.
"I was supposed to be out of it." He murmured, pulling me further into an expanse of white. "But they couldn't even do that right. So when I couldn't scream anymore, I focused on their voices. I focused on anything that... that wasn't the blades slicing into my face. Drills and saws and blades scooping my eye out and slicing into layer after layer of skin..." He broke out into a shaky hiss. "They said blues were being processed upstairs, and red's were ready for incineration."
Incineration. Something cold slithered down my spine.
The Reds weren't just killed. They were wiped away, no traces of them left.
"We need to get you help." I squeezed his hand.
Nick laughed. But it wasn't his laugh. The one I knew. It was harsh and twisted.
"Like I said, they pumped me with enough drugs so I didn't feel anything. Pretty sure it's going to wear off soon, though.” I spotted a trash can overflowing with something, and when we got closer I realised what it was that I was looking at. I was seeing bloodied clothes stained blue and purple; shirts and jeans and dresses all drenched red, but they still had tell tale traces of spray paint rings. Nick grabbed a sweater and pants for himself, and a bundle of light pink for me. "Put these on. Quickly."
He struggled to pull off his bloodied shirt, his eye bouncing from his socket. It reminded me of a cartoon I'd seen as a kid. He straightened out the sweater, wincing at the scarlet stains. "If we're going to get Bobby out of here, we act like purples. "
I tried not to think about the clothes I was throwing on. Sadie Lily had been wearing them. A light pink blouse. The purple ring had ruined it. The material was damp in my hands. Warm and wet between my fingers. I had to swallow bile stuck at the back of my throat.
My fingers itched to— look through the pile. Look for the dress that Bobby had been wearing before she was taken. It was her favourite. I'd been there in the clothes store when she insisted on trying it on, spinning around for me, while Nick pretended to snap photos with his imaginary camera. I was trapped in that memory, in phantom laughter, before I was pulled back to the present. Back to my reality. I was playing with the seam of Sadie's blouse when Nick hurried to what looked like a classroom door. He pressed his face against the glass. "This is where I was taken." He said stiffly.
Hesitantly, I joined him. There was a sign printed on the door in caps. "OUT OF ORDER: STERILISATION IN PROGRESS."
Inside, there was a room of a dozen odd looking chairs with velcro restraints and metal contraptions hanging over them. Just like he'd described. All it took was me seeing a splash of red on the ground, and then I was seeing it everywhere— splattered over each headrest and smears on the floor. Blood. There was blood everywhere, rivulets of red dripping from every surface, stringy pieces of flesh covering the floor like a monster had shedded its skin. Aliens. I kept telling myself, when the truth was becoming progressively more and more likely in my head, twisting and turning my gut. I had to look away, swallowing the urge to barf.
An eruption of screams rang out further down the hall, and Nick let out a hiss, but I didn't want to look. I couldn't. I recognised voices. Ones I'd known my whole life. Names I knew. Faces. I knew their laughter. I knew how they sounded when they'd had too many beers. I waited to hear her cry. Her scream. Because I knew it. I knew her scream when she suffered night terrors, the two of us enveloped in my bed sheets, wrapped in our own world.
Ignoring the screams as best as I could, I focused on the room in front of us.
"What… are those things?"
I didn't realize I was trying to pull the door open until warm hands entangled with mine and pulled me away. "Hey!" Nick's grip wasn't soft or reassuring. It hurt. But it was enough to pull me from the depths of despair I was sinking into. His voice sounded strange— like it was a million miles away, caught in white noise. "Addie?" his voice sounded like wind chimes, as I struggled to swallow down bouts of bloody saliva creeping up my throat. Something was happening to me.
"Hey. Addie! You can't lose it now, okay? We're getting her out of here. Say it with me. We're getting her out of here, and we're going to get away, okay?"
I nodded, swiping at my bloody nose.
When Nick pulled me through a door at the end of the corridor, and then up a flight of steps, I could barely move my legs. "Talk to me," he murmured, quickening his pace. "We're getting her out. Come on, the last thing we need is you losing it. Because, no offence, but I kind of need you to like, live."
"We... we are getting her out." I gritted out. But then I was looking down at Sadie's blouse, clawing at the front of it. "This is... this is blood." I choked, pulling at the material. "Sadie. They murdered her."
Nick didn't reply. "Let's go."
The second floor was livelier. Men and women in suits were walking up and down carrying talkies, murmuring to each other. A woman had Kenji Leonhart over her shoulder. Though he wasn't moving. I saw something that looked almost black in contrast to his white skin; streaks of it running down his neck and the back of his shirt. His body was limp. Wrong. Loose. It bounced on the woman's back, and it was then when I realised the boy was dead. But he wasn't a red. He wasn't a defect.
I would have known. I would have known his face. Nick grabbed me and pulled me back, flattening the two of us against the wall. "Don't move." He whispered. "Don't speak. Don't breathe." When I pressed my hand over my mouth, I immediately felt wet warmth. it ran down my face in hot rivulets, staining my fingers. When droplets hit the white floor, I scrubbed them away with my foot. I hadn't realised my head had started to hurt—a dull ache beginning to crawl across the back of my skull. Nick was quick, dragging me down the corridor, and somehow managing to keep his eye in his socket. He peered into the glass of each door, while I stumbled along, my head spinning, blood sputtering from my nose.
I was fading in and out of reality, the pain pounding in my ears and nose, at the back of my throat, when Nick's hand detached from mine. "Wait." He stopped outside one door, pressing his face against the glass.
I staggered to a stop, pressing pressure to my nose. But it wasn't stopping.
"What is it?"
Nick let out a shuddery breath. "See for yourself."
Inside the room I found myself looking inside was a classroom like setting. The blue's were just like Nick had said. They were perfected of flaws, anything that made them who they were. Now they were dolls. I looked for emotion on their faces, some kind of expression.
But there was none. Dressed in the same clothes as Nick, they sat at wooden desks in upright positions, while a guard loomed over each one. They faced a white wall where a bigger version of the film we had watched on the bus was being projected on the wall. I recognized those same color's, and once again, a stabbing pain crept across the back of my skull. I had to look away.
They were a lot brighter than what I had seen, bathing each face in crimson red and intense yellow, followed by dull blue.
Red.
Yellow.
Blue.
Green.
Repeat.
Nick straightened up, his face bathed in lime green light. "So, this is some kind of fucked up school," He muttered. "Purple's are taken to be "fixed" downstairs, and blue's, since they're already perfect, are put in front of those colors again." he sent me the side eye. "Maybe my alien theory was actually right? That's what they do in the movies. But I don't think they've ever cared about kids." He pulled a face, peering through the glass. "College kids, though? Why would they want us? It's not like we're smart. Why not kidnap a group of Harvard students?"
Ignoring his stupid theory, I focused on the meat of what he was saying. A school in the middle of nowhere, where the town's seniors had been taken for years, where the parents and faculty were actively a part of whatever was going on. "But why?" I whispered. "What are they doing to them?"
I searched his expression for an answer—after all, Nick was smart. He was the smartest out of the three of us. At first I was worried he'd been inflicted by the colors too, but then he gripped my hand.
"Found her."
Following his gaze, I scanned each student's face until I saw her.
Bobby.
I saw Bobby, and all of me shattered. I can't explain what it was like. It felt like I was swallowing glass, like I was being pulled deep down into the depths of the ocean, choking on ice water. Nick was there, but I couldn't feel him. I couldn't—oh god, I couldn't feel his steely grip, his warm fingers. I couldn't smell the cheap axe spray and the stink of his exotic plants.
He was there, and he wasn't. Instead, I was drowning. She sat right at the back of the classroom, stiff in her seat, her hands on the desk in front of her. I expected Bobby to look different —- I expected not to recognize her after she had been polished and perfected. Except she looked exactly the same.
Her blonde hair fell in waves down her back. Apart from flickering eyes following the colors flashing erratically, Bobby wasn't moving. I didn't realise I was grasping the handle until Nick gently pulled me away. "We need to think about this," he said. "If we waltz in there and try to grab her that way, we'll get caught. And I don't know about you, but being turned into a zombie, or whatever the fuck they're doing—isn't really on my to-do list right now. Bobby doesn't look too great right now. She could be, y'know…"
"Could be what?!" I hissed out.
"I don't know! An alien zombie, maybe?" He gestured through the door. "Those colors are clearly doing something to her."
"That's a good observation, Nicholas," a familiar voice spoke from behind us, making me jump. "I do wish you put that ounce of intelligence into your studies."

To part 1
​
Last part (Two parter)
​
{@:¤:@} / ^'Ello, The writer here.
SO, finally getting where I want the story to go in this part. A lot more magic alien things going forward from this,- culture 'n stuff. Its fun to write about.
And damn.- I'm not going say more about it, but the next {Gambit for Madness} story-bite's been eating me for the longest time now...
Next post probably in a week?
So yeah, see you then.
​
[Hell Magic 101]
Part 32: [Un-Gateway].
=¤:¤>=¤:¤>=¤:¤>
The raw spires of red crimson eventually faded into the ever-fog and before us was only the foggy white void of nothingness now and the floating spike 'buoys', that I guessed were there to guide ships like this around here.
I was intently watching said blank fog anxiously, through the meeting room's hologram, ready to bounce to the hangar for the next battle. I was paranoid of what else would lurk out there, besides the giant serpent monster.
Because of that fire breathing snake I had to melt my leg and stomach plates apart with my welder.- It took damned long hours and I looked like a fucking mess!!
And now my left leg couldn't turn properly.
For a long moment the ship only continued through the fog. It was quite, all too quiet for my like… but in hindsight I was only grasping at the straws, no outside noise made it into here anyways.
Winate appeared on the folding doorway, seeming to look for someone in an excited air around them.
''Ckhr-aarth Moo'on!'' They tried to say my name. ''You, here! Good thing! We, to, (eearr'o'shhoo'norrz), (arive??), (soon??)! You, (excited???)? This, thing, to, eye! It, of, (old??), (?)!'' The lanky alien seemed to have brushed off all of that had happened in the last twenty hours apparently… but they were probably trying to cheer me up, which I appreciated.
'Maybe distracting myself will get me to a better mood… These aliens have lived here for this long… so I should be fine too… right?' I rose to a sitting position from my hudled position against the leather wall.
''(Eearr'o'shhoo'norrz)? Why/how, you (excited??)?'' I asked.
'We are probably nearing that Un-gataway place. Mawoathful and the firespitters made it sound like it was a city or at least the name for the magic school whatever… There's no way, Winate would be so chipper otherways…' I reasoned, side eyeing at the insectine elf, with a questioning look.
''*Aaa*! You, not, understand! (Eearr'o'shhoo'norrz), are, name, of, one, big, (city/nest????), of, Us-all! It, one, (most????), big, one, and, is, (most????), not, danger! It, made, in, (old?), (hheea'oss)!! Arn, (Holove), Zeerraaa'e, in, Arn, (?), in, center, of, (city/nest???)!'' They explained to me with kid-like enthusiasm.
''(City/nest???)? Ear, good thing.'' I nodded. ''How/why, Us-all, make, not, danger, here? Here, Numa, all, are, danger…'' I asked.
I had deemed that even Mawoathful living alone to be a miracle already,- a whole city of even thousands would be more than impressive in this hostile environment, I suppose these aliens should get more credit than I have given them previously, after all they had magic on par with today's science.
Even living, like I did in the begining, isolating myself to the caves, had been difficult, and not because of the demons coming every few days or so, no,- it was the damn parasitic metal plants that had done the most damage to myself!
I wondered what a hell city would look like… In this magic land, I honestly couldn't guess what awaited me and I was quite excited.
''*Chuckle*! You, eye, we, there.'' They teased and probably also dodged how I wouldn't understand half of the thing they'd try to explain to me.
As they said that, something appeared on the hologram. A glimmering, faintly coloured wall had appeared before us and the ship aligned to fly along the side of the wall that extended well over the fifty meter radius of the hologram.
As we flew on we sped up considerably. Fast blurs of a colourful jungle of trees flew past us below, as the wall/ground's surface glistened like a rainbow mosaic sea, under us.
I realized that this was the place in the vision Shhoo'ne had shown me, the first time we met. The crushed crystal planes and the odd gem trees with their weird little critters… I felt somehow accomplished at reaching this place that Shhoo'ne had shown me…
'... Shhoo'ne was a good person… They saw me,- what the Us-all's would liken to something like demons,- and rather than kill me in my nightmare, they reached out with empathy… Shhoo'ne tried and…- that's more than I can say from myself…
I need to… improve myself…
… Winate here is definitely their relative, that I'm sure now… that ugly smile can only be hereditary. Haha…' I made myself laugh a little.
Aaann'ess just looked at me funny with the rows of needle teeth poking out under their pseudo-arms, arranging themselves in a less horrifying manner as Aaann'ess stopped imitating how humans smile.
Instead they focused on the hologram and my excitement was hampered by only seconds as I tried to figure out what the thing in front of the ship was.
The plane of crystals was raised slightly to a huge flattened plateau, probably many times what the ever-fog allowed to see, where the trees were cut down in an area. The immediate edge of the plateau was protected by pink-ish translucent barrier, that stopped the ship's advance, going wide and rising high beyond the fog.
Moments ticked as nothing seemed to happen but someone was probably contacting the 'gate guard of the pink hell barrier' in the actual navigation room… wherever that was on the ship.
Now as the ship stood still for a moment I could see how the pink barrier seemed to fade in and out of my perception, even as it was the most 'scream me out' colour out there. It was confusing to look at, even as it was a hologram and I didn't know how accurate it was of the actual reality, out there…
Ship moved again as an opening appeared, eerily reminding me of the long bristle teeth of a Blue whale, in its form.
Behind the barrier was… more fog…
I was getting nervous about all of this tension, as the ship continued steadily.
Suddenly, ornate towers popped up from the swirling fog. The ivory and colourful fishnet-like structures remind me of something… like cathedral arches, filled with spikes… but the colours look mouldy and haphazard…
'Yet again… familiar… How can't I focus on that familiarity? It's right there! Like I had been here, already… Like I had been here?'' I repeated in confusion. My mind must have been overworked from the last battle and I was paranoid, unreasonable, confused… that's what I thought then.
At the sides and tops of the weaving spires appear to be mounted with heavy turrets, covered in the same barf of colour and spikes, luckily they aren't pointing at us.
'Weird… I haven't seen the Us-all's use guns before… and that big one is the size of the whole ship!' I thought as I studied a glimpse of the odd looking spiky coil-gun that had flourishing slates of runes ornamented on its sides, which itself was mounted on the largest spire I had seen yet,- I couldn't even see the sides of it as they extended beyond the ever present fog.
The ship maneuvered past the dangerous looking rainbow jungle of turret towers. We descended past what I thought was the crystal plane's floor level and dipped past more of the rainbow coloured tiling, finding patrols of other black, spikey ships like the one we were in and ever more turrets mounted along the path 'downwards'. This structure was quite large, at least a mid-sized void station.
'This place is armed to the teeth… in the case of the Us-all's that would be more literal… maybe?- I haven't seen them use them to bite the demons at least…'
After passing a second pink barrier that covered a massive hole in the ground, again unable to see it as a whole, we entered a long copper and black metal coloured tube, descending deeper past the crystal plane.
The side of the wall I could see of the massive metallic hole, was riddled in long thin copper lines running parallel towards the bottom. 'Hopefully those weren't a sign of a gigantic worm monster that eats metal.' I shuddered.
''This, (?)! You, (agree???), ok/yes?'' Winate cut into the tense atmosphere.
''... Not, danger. This, I, say.'' I nodded.
'With this much protection I was sure it would be hard even for Humanity to try and attack here… well, an antimatter spike bomb is an antimatter spike bomb…' I thought, not that I wanted to do something like that.
The ship descended along the only visible wall of this massive cavern and what greeted us at the bottom… was strange.
The strangest thing I had seen yet.
From the ever-fog, cleared a ginormous triangular painting.
Like a golden and void dark mural.
As if the ever-fog had never been there, now I could see the whole length of the cavern, and with my quick calculations measured the diameter of it and the mural to be five hundred meters across.
The painting was in the shape of a triangle with its tips nipped off from the one sixth of each side's length, forming a triangular-ish, not quite a hexagon shape.
The sides of the metallic cavern seemed to flow under the painting, the further we went down, the walls smoothly morphing to the shape of the not hexagon from the cavern's initial round shape.
From afar the painting looked like someone poured inky black void to the middle of it in a frenzy, covering much of the golden glow that was left to the sides, but as we neared even closer I noticed things constantly moving in the painting.
There were images of Us-alls moving as if they weren't crashing into each other, going over or under them on the surface of the painting. The murals decorating purple gems glowed in a triangular, dotted ring around the golden lights, that filled the sides.
Thousands of metallic buildings that looked more like spiky cocoons and spires flanked all the sides of the painting. Criss crossing tube bridges went up and down from one side of the not hexagon to the other, with people crossing them like they were walking normally, upside down and every side.
The most confusing thing was that it appeared as if all the people, buildings and even the few ships flying in the painting were isometrically stacked on top of themselves, creating a feel like this whole painting was broken on a reality defying level.
It was like, whomever made this magic painting had no concept of depth perspective at all.
I was slightly panicked as the ship continued to crash into the moving painting slowly.
As we crossed, the front of the meeting room collapsed without a sound and soon an invisible barrier flattened the hologram in front of me as well, threatening to do the same to me and Winate.
I don't remember if I had extended my time perception then, but it was over in seconds even when it felt like minutes ticked by as I saw my hands get absorbed into the surface of the painting, despite my useless bolt to the far wall.
Winate was far too slow to react and was a pancake, before I knew it.
The whole ship was flattened.
=¤:¤>=¤:¤>=¤:¤>
I opened my eyes… but everything appeared to be-... completely normal, like nothing had happened at all.
Winate started to laugh hysterically at me.
Focusing my confusion back to the hologram I saw how the painting had gained a third dimension to it and extended beyond the hologram's reach even as there was no ever-fog to be seen here,- it just… seemed to go on forever. The edges of the painting stretched in their not hexagon shape indefinitely deeper down, past the hologram's reach.
Every wall of the city was patterned with small cocoon houses, large fields of markets with multi levelled ship docks, towers of purple light, that looked like small radio towers dotted evenly the area of the whole city.
I was awestruck at the sight and it must have been apparent on my face as well as the alien next to me continued chuckling madly at me.
''I need to see this myself.'' I said in English and left the meeting room in a hurry to the hangar. Winate followed suit, cackling like a maniac behind me, probably understanding what I wanted.
​
Next part

"No, only hid away in the Deeps, Deep, deep down
in the deepest Deeps. Isn't that a word now, Johnny,
a real word, it says so much: the Deeps. There's all the
coldness and darkness and deepness in the world in a
word like that.”
- Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn
​
Putnam County in Upstate New York was the confirmed location of the Hollow Earth entrance into what has been named, 'The Abyssal Expanse'. Fifteen miles outside of the hamlet of Tompkins Corners was where it was tracked down, not far from some outlying residential areas (the areas in question evacuated). It was dark out by the time we got there, and the area had already been dug up and exposed, a 40X50 foot wide entrance excavated and ready for us to descend into. Just outside of that were the vehicles. They were like Apex's HEAVs, but built moreso like our Wombat Rovers, equipped with lights used on deep-sea submersibles, as well as hydrofoils and special engines that allow it to move easily on the surface of water and on land. Given the unknown nature of what lay below, it didn't seem unbelievable to be prepared, and of course, given the nature of our mission, our vehicles were equipped with all sorts of weaponry aboard them. As we got dressed into our jumpsuits, I could tell the tense atmosphere wasn't helped by the fact that Xiangliu had apparently disappeared from our scans; last known location was in the Hollow Earth underneath Georgia. As the tense atmosphere didn't go away, Mary Ann stepped up in front of everyone. "Listen up, everyone. I know things haven't been easygoing as of late, but let me tell you that this is not the end. We can do this. We've been through worse things before, and this descent, though... frightening, to say the least, is not impossible. We can do this, and we should do this, especially considering what's hanging in the balance at the moment if we don't go down. There are some terrible people out there who'll stop at nothing to harm others and to radically damage things around them, and they'll continue to do so if we don't follow through. So let's go. Let's make a difference and make things right, for all of us," she said, wrapping up her speech as she made eye contact with everyone in the audience, a prolonged gaze directed at me. We promptly split up and got into the four vehicles provided. One by one, the vehicles drove to the edge of the pit, activated their hover modes, and descended, their lights disappearing into the darkness below. The vehicle me, Bodero and two G-Team officers named Heinz and Walker were in was the last one to go in, and when our time came, we fastened our seatbelts, and got ready for the descent. Ours made the last entrance in, and I looked one last time at the night sky, the trees, and Monarch forces above before it was blocked off by the underground walls of the hole. We hovered down for what felt like half an hour, moving at a brisk speed. That was until a tug was felt on our vehicle. "This is Scout 4, we're nearing the entrance, over," I heard Heinz speak into his radio. Sure enough, a faint light was coming into view from below us, and it got closer and closer as our vehicle began to fall faster and faster, our hovering overpowered. As we neared, I thought I spied off to my left this odd, collapsed tunnel of sorts directing down. "Get your barf bags ready!" I heard Walker yell, and a few seconds after, we plunged in. Nathan Lind had said it was like travelling a thousand miles in two seconds, and those two seconds were the longest two seconds in my life. After the flashing lights had finally vanished, we were confronted once more by darkness. That only lasted for a few seconds until we fell through some rocks. And then more. And then more. The other three vehicles fell through some rock shelves as well, but managed to reorient themselves forward, and one delayed response later, we did so too, though not before falling and just missing the surface of what we now saw was water below. Evidently below the entrance was this intricate network of rocks intertwined with one another in various shapes and arrangements (I said 'was' because our repeated collisions with it all but destroyed it). "OK, Scout 4 is now in the Lind Inversion Zone. Turning on our lights now. We're ready to continue," I heard Heinz say as our vehicle then moved forward, following the others. We expected there to be darkness, but the darkness here? Pitch-black doesn't begin to cover it. It was this thick, dense darkness that even our powerful lights couldn't penetrate beyond 40 or so feet ahead. The only other source of light here was of the entrance, which got dimmer the farther we got as we disappeared into the Abyssal Expanse itself.
Our lights beamed forth into the vast darkness, no matter what direction they swung in, the sheer innumerable size of this space didn't permit us to see even a wall or part of the ceiling. There were no signs of life, though several odd sounds seemed to echo across the vast space, some sounding more like some unknown creature's call than others. "How long do you think it'll be before we get there?" I heard Bodero ask Walker. "A few hours I'd reckon, especially given how slow we have to be in this uncharted terrain." From there on, other than just the odd sounds in the distance, the beeps of the devices in the cockpit of our vehicle, and the faint sounds of our engines, there was complete silence. I felt myself wanting to drift off to sleep, though paranoia kept me awake. This cycle of annoyance continued for what I believe was two hours, and when that wrapped up, our radar beeped, which Walker took note of, and at the same time, a message came through on the radio. "Attention all Scouts, this is Scout 1. We're approaching a large conglomerate of rocks ahead in the zero-G stream, and there is a high collision risk. To avoid that, we will be using our hydrofoils to skim along the water. Please follow accordingly," said the message, and with that, the distant lights of the lead vehicle descended, and all three of us followed suit. We gently lowered down until we landed atop the water, the hydrofoils deployed and the vehicle swaying slightly, even when not moving. "Scout 4 has hydrofoils. Ready to go," Said Heinz. Now all four of our vehicles moved along the surface. It seemed that the Abyssal Expanse seemed to possess a large body of water within it, though whether or not it was a lake or even a sea remains unknown. Now that we drifted along the water, the rocking and swaying of the water actually helped me fall asleep (baby instincts I guess). Within a matter of minutes my eyelids drooped and fell as I entered what I wanted to be peaceful sleep. What I got instead was anything but. After a while (possibly during the REM stage), I 'woke up', with my body feeling numb and stiff, but that didn't last long as I was able to look around. Much to my shock, I was the only one in the cockpit. Bodero, Heinz and Walker were all gone, but somehow the vehicle was still moving. I unbuckled myself from the seat and got up, hunching slightly in the cramped space of the cockpit. Evidently we were still along the water's surface, though the other three vehicles were nowhere in sight. Then, out of nowhere, the cockpit glass 'roof' lifted up, exposing me to the cold outside air. Now that it was open, I could make out the sounds of the water. I looked down and see the bubbling wake left behind by the vehicle, and the lights affixed to the sides illuminated the water, but they only revealed so much. This open space suddenly felt that much bigger when I realized what could be hiding both beneath and above me. I looked around out of paranoia, but it was just too damn dark to make out a thing! Then I heard a splashing noise near me. I turned to see some grab object descending into the water below, as if something just surfaced. Then another splash. Then another. Then another. Then another. It was like a whole pod of animals surrounding the vehicle, and every time I looked in the direction of a splash, another would happen in the opposite direction. Then I felt something suddenly land atop the vehicle. I turned to see some winged form on top of the lifted cockpit cover, its eyes reflecting off the lights from the sides. Then it flew off and landed on the side of it to get closer to me. It was so much stranger than I thought; a large albatross-like creature with shedding feathers and rotting skin. The head looked almost pterosaur-like with lifeless white eyes, almost like an old taxidermied model with white balls inserted into the eye sockets, but the mouth? The mouth was unnatural; sideways opening, stitched along the neck of the animal like a zipper. The 'beak' didn't open, but the sideways mouth did, and I heard a series of clicks come from it. Another splash caught my attention, and despite me not wanting to look at it, I seemed to do so anyway. Below the water was a coelacanth, its eyes glassy and pale and mouth hanging open, but surrounding its face was a series of sunken-in human faces, all in a visible state of agony and pain. The fish stared at me from the water for a few seconds before it was snatched from below suddenly by a set of large tentacles. I then heard this odd, bark/cough from behind me. I saw these three animals peering over the edge of the cockpit. I tried pressing the button to lower the roof again, but nothing happened. In fact none of the buttons or anything within the cockpit seemed to work.
I got a better look at the three and saw they looked a bit like river otters, but with scaly, semi-hairy bodies and heads with no eyes and lamprey-like mouths, their faces contracting and expanding as if latched onto invisible glass. I tried to yell something to shoo them away, but nothing came out of my mouth. I turned to see the bird-pterosaur thing still there on the side. Then, something crawled next to it, positioning itself to look at me. It was like a horseshoe crab, but its body was upside down, the book gills facing dorsally and telson upside down, and with a series of lobster-like pincers instead of legs that it used to hold onto the vehicle with. Then on my right, the same side as the otter-lampreys, came this webbed hand. I saw this ugly, calloused face emerge from the water. It was like a cross between a human and an anglerfish, complete with fins and protruding teeth that rubbed against its jowls as the mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. As far as I can tell it was the closest thing I've seen resembling a merman or mermaid. I then heard something rock the front of the vehicle, and I turned to see something coiling around the front. Then its front rose up, looming ominously above me. That was until I positioned a light to face it. It was a living baleen whale skull, attached to a body covered in what looked like decomposing flesh. It was like a flipper-less baleen whale skeleton with the locomotion of a snake. It then moved it skeletal head closer to me, and I turned around to see the other creatures were getting closer too. Then the boat rocked again as a large, pink, clawed object wrapped onto a light, and in another light's view came its owner. It turns out the object was a long, muscular and prehensile tongue, belonging to this long-necked sea turtle like creature, and it seemed to use it to move itself around. Then as I looked closer around the vehicle and the lights' perimeters, I saw many other forms watching me from the water. Sharks with seal-like flippers and hippopotamus-like mouths. Hallucinigenia with eel-like heads extending from their bodies Xiangliu-style. A giant squid with multiple eyes and fins. A two-headed seahorse with the body of a mobile starfish and with lionfish-like barbs. These biological abominations surrounded me. I had no weapons and I couldn't just jump out. I was frozen in fear as every single creature inched closer, as if they were all unanimously taking their time. Then a pair of eyes materialized directly in front of me, in front of the seat Bodero had sat in. It then stepped out, and it was none other than that demon Molloy, his toothy smile still visible as a guttural laugh was heard. "Are you happy, Fossil?" I heard him say. "You've always wanted to discover new things. So why not discover how it feels to be afraid? A little, pathetic worm like you cornered by bigger predators. Now you know how it feels to be a prey item. To be in the face of unnegotiable danger. A tiny pinprick of atoms floating in the great and vast universe. So small. So pathetic. So weak!" Then I felt the water around me begin to agitate, and it was like being caught in a storm all of a sudden. Despite the now-agitated water, nothing on or around the boat seemed fazed by it. Then, as 'Molloy' laughed once more, I saw a large wave coming in, bigger than any other I've ever seen, ready to engulf this tiny vessel and strand me at the bottom of this body of water. Then, I woke up, in part thanks to Bodero shaking me awake, and never in my life have I been more grateful for that. "Sorry to wake ya, buddy. But we're getting close. You see that?" he said, pointing ahead. Illuminated by our lights were these large mountains and rock formations, and they seemed to have once been the site of large forests and grasslands, and various skeletons littered the place like a graveyard. It was like looking at a carcass of an older, more prosperous world. Perhaps the Abyssal Expanse was not always so abyssal. Perhaps it was once open and lively like the rest of the Hollow Earth, before nature took its toll on it and cut it off to make it fester in darkness. "All Scouts, be advised," I heard the voice of Scout 1 on the radio announce. "We're picking up more communications now. We're getting close."

Hello padawans! And welcome to the first day of your Jedi training!
Pause for applause.
This is Jedi Master... uh... Jedi Knight Anakin, and he's going to - OH MY WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!
----
And that, dear readers, is how I expect this guide to turn out as well.
I'd like to say that I'm writing this out of the goodness of my heart, but the truth of the matter is that I basically wrote it all yesterday as a reply to some guy who had a question and then I thought to myself, "self, you haven't posted diddly squat in a long time, you lazy sack of whatever it is in Star Wars comes in sacks." And here we are now!
First, I want to clear a few things up. There have been some rumors on this sub, and it's important to me to clear the air.

1. I never said that "I hate all of the questions that new players ask," nor did I say "half the questions on this sub are dumber than a box of rocks that got barfed on by a drunken goat." I also did not privately message anyone in my guild that, "swgalaxyofheroes is full of nincompoops who wouldn't know a decent health mod from their own ass if it took a dump in their toilet and flushed for them." None of those things happened, I swear. I don't even know what that last one means. The fact is that I love new players and I love reddit and my attorney is advising me that I need to clarify that I love you guys in a purely platonic way that is not at all creepy, especially if you're under the age of 18.
2. I'm not an expert on anything. I'm just a guy who gets bored and writes funny, so this whole "guide" should really be taken with an entire bushel of salt. I also don't know how salt works.
3. At no point in time did I ever encourage, incite, or otherwise suggest that Melinda in Accounting should shoot Steve from Logistics in the parking lot of a Wendy's at 7:04 pm last Thursday. Not that anyone misses Steve, but shooting people to solve your petty "marital disputes" and "custody battles" is really not a great solution to problems that could more entertainingly be settled via Saw-esque escape room. Which is also a thing my lawyer is telling me I should not be suggesting.

With that all said, let's jump into the guide!
I'm going to break this whole thing down by how far along in the game you are, so unless you want to read some stuff you vehemently disagree with, you can just skip to the section that your own personal experience has not yet told you is both unfounded and illogical.
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For Brand new players:
Welcome to a game that I've been playing as a Free to Play (F2P) player for just over 6 years now! It's probably dying and you'll never catch up before they pull the plug on the server. Which, if we're being honest, is probably just a hamster wheel connected to a potato. The hamster is possibly the longest-lived hamster who ever lived, and the potato has long since sprouted and gone to seed, but if the game is still running, I'm still playing!
This game is a very long running investment game, and if you're going to get into it, you should take an equally long approach. While Capitol Games (CG) regularly increases the speed at which new players can acquire gear, I cannot stress enough how much time you should expect things to take in this game. I have been playing since November of 2016 (I think). I "caught up" to the free-to-play curve about a year ago. While my play hasn't always been optimal, I think it is very reasonable to expect that you will not catch up for at minimum four years, and more likely five.
For now, the game is a contest between you and your shard-mates. But what's a shard? It's a semi-private instance of the arena and fleet arena elements of the game that was created around the time your account was created. It contains only you and about 2000 other players (or so it seems). Everyone made an account around the same time, and as such, everyone's progress is relatively similar, unless someone spent real money on the game.
Speaking of which, you do not need to spend real money on this game in order to succeed. I would argue (because it's self serving and feeds my confirmation bias) that doing so cheapens the experience. And don't worry about the game being cancelled because you're not spending money - this game has raked in well over $1,000,000,000 in its time (probably closer to 1.4 now) and the creators are doing just fine.
But I do want to talk about the cost of things in this game so that you can make a value decision about whether or not they are worth spending your hard-earned bucks on. This is a cell phone game. If it were a retail game and not a freemium one, it would probably cost about $20. That's how much Final Fantasy Tactics is, and that's a MUCH better game. Just for example. Vampire Survivors is also free, and it's also a real video game. Just saying. This game, however, will beg you to spend $100 on the "Hyperdrive Bundle" (or $50 if you catch it on "sale") which will boost you to level 85 (where you can easily get in a month or two anyway) and give you... a bunch of shitty characters. In general, the pricing of this game is such that a brand new character (of which there are damn near 250 in this game) will cost you $300 to get to 7 stars and level 85, and another $300 to get to the relic 7 gear level. For ONE character. Is 1/250th of this game worth $600 to you? If yes, spend away. If not, I urge you to consider the alternative: Save your money. Subnautica is like $15 these days. A beer is $6. Burning your money for warmth is probably a more sound investment with a more substantial return.
But if you insist on spending, you know what? Go for it. That's YOUR money. You earned it! Or you stole it from your parents. Either way, you're spending it the way you want to and that's your right. As long as it is worth it to you, then it's worth it. Me? I won't be spending. This guide? Not for people who spend. It may help you with something, but really I'm talking to the folks who saved their money, and all of my timetables are based on that.
Do not fear. If you decide to stay f2p, you can still - eventually - catch up. For now, have fun! As my guild leader says: Play the game, and don't let the game play you!
As a new player, you need to learn a bit about some important terminology here.
Resources: The primary resource of the game is energy, and the premium resource is crystals. I try to think about everything I do in terms of those two resources.
Scarcity: The most scarce resource are the ones that can only be acquired in a single way. You may need a high demand resource such as Mk. V stun guns, but that doesn't make them rare. And you may not need Logray shards, but they're incredibly rare, only being acquirable from the guild store, and even then only sometimes.
Investment strategy: There are two main ways to invest in this game (three now, but i'll get to the third later): Wide or Tall. Wide means you get as many characters as possible and don't really focus your roster much. Tall means you get a core group of characters and gear them to the teeth, at the expense of having other characters unlocked. I prefer a wide investment strategy because that hoovers up the most rare resources in the most efficient manner. You will get gear as you farm shards, but you won't get shards as you farm gear. Make sense?
The third investment strategy is buffoonery, which is spending all (or any) of your resources on short term and temporary benefits. This used to not be possible in this game, but now thanks to datacrons, it's a thing. Do NOT do this. It's just a waste.
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Early game:
There are just a crazy amount of things in this game, and all of them are shiny. IG-86? He seems cool! Ughnaut? I love those little guys! Red 5? That's my favorite ship!
Sorry, fam. He's not, you shouldn't, and it's not even in the game. Get used to that feeling of betrayal. This is the ride you signed up for.
There are lots of guides online about which characters to farm in which order in order to optimize your play. That's fine. This is not one of those guides. My focus is on catching you up, optimizing your investment, and letting you play the game however you like while still making substantial progress.
Let me explain: Imagine if there were a video game where you got 9 points for dating a supermodel, but you got 10 points for repeatedly stabbing yourself in the dick. There is a pretty substantial push (especially in online forums) that everyone should stab themselves in the dick, over and over and over again. Like just all of the stabbing. In your own dick. Until it's just a pulpy smear down there. And then keep going. "The grind gets easier," these dick-stabbers say. "You get used to it." That's a nope from me, dawg. This guide is for people who want to date the supermodel and keep their junk intact.
What I'm saying is, I know there are more precise, more detailed, more min/max-y guides out there, so don't @ me. I'm trying to get you there while having fun.
My farming priorities are (in order of priority):
- ship shards.
- character shards (accelerated characters first, then the most recently released to hard nodes, and then any unaccelerated old characters last - as they're most likely to become accelerated while other farms are ongoing)
- mods (if you need them)
- g12 finisher gear from normal fleet nodes.
- kyrotech from normal nodes.
- cantina character shards.
- cantina signal data.
- anything not already listed here that I need for something.
- mod slicing materials (if you have enough decent mods for everyone).
In the shops, I always buy character shards first (it's been a long time since I've needed to though) and gear second.
Spend crystals on energy refills and only energy refreshes when you're starting out. You won't have too many crystals, your daily income won't be too high, and you'll have LOADS of things to spend them on. Focus! Only energy refills. You can do 3 per day of normal, ship, and mod energy type at a cost of 50 crystals per refill. Past that will cost 100 and then it keeps going up. It's worth it at 50, and not at the other prices. Cantina energy costs 100 right out of the gate, but is still a worthwhile purchase because there's no limit to how many times you can attempt a node in the cantina. Speaking of: When you're farming character shards, you'll find that you only get 5 attempts per character per day. That's fine. In the early game you have so many different characters that you can farm at once that there is no need to refresh any node's attempts. That's just wasting crystals.
At some point, you will realize that mods make a massive difference in the game, and you'll want to invest into farming them as well. That's a subject that could fill an entire, extremely dick-stabby book, so I'll give a really bare bones explanation here: Mods add to your stats. Mods get bonus secondary stats at every 3 levels (but not at 15), and for every tier of improvement. Mod tiers follow the loot model almost every game uses and are grey -> green -> blue -> purple -> gold. Gold is not always a "better" mod than grey, because there are more secondary stat types than each mod has slots, and if your gold mod has crappy types, it could just be trash. in general if the mod doesn't have a speed secondary, it's a trash mod. Speed is king in this game.
When you get to the point that you realize how strong mods are and you want more of them, you should spend some time farming up mods (only farm 5-dot mods; anything less is trash and should be replaced the moment you get 5-dot mods). This is called "mod speculation" and while it is fairly important to progress in the early and mid games, it is also the endgame credit sink. That right there can probably tell you how rare "perfect" mods are. They basically don't exist. My guildie rolled a 29 speed secondary stat square mod yesterday, which is insane. My best mod has a 28 speed secondary stat and that's after more than 6 years of gameplay. Anything above 5 speed is worth keeping, IMO.
In terms of who to farm and when, I take a very long view, and always have. Will my roster in 2 years appreciate my investment now? 3? 5? And this takes a degree of guesswork, and sometimes I've guessed wrong. When Jedi Knight Revan was introduced, I balked. It was too much text and I opposed that on principle (oh the irony). It was also a new character that didn't build on a single existing character, which I figured was a pander to draw in new players, but wouldn't hurt old, established players like me. I was very, very wrong. I did not farm him, and instead focused on other characters. As a result, I dropped way out of the meta, and fell from top 100 in arena daily to the 200-500 range.
And it would be 2 whole years before I finished the JKR farm*,* because by the time I realized my mistake, JKR was still 200 days of farming away from me, plus all the gear he needed. I also abandoned his farm partway through to focus on Darth Revan, who I saw as more powerful (this was the right move). Also, everyone knows that Revan used two lightsabers, not one (hashtag NotMyRevan).
Anyway, making these long term predictions is pretty easy when you start out. You know who is needed for GLs. You know who is needed for being able to farm zeta materials, or complete challenge events. You know you need 4M GP for conquest and proving grounds, so even bad investments aren't completely wasted.
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Mid Game:
Once you're in the mid-range of the game though, you're in a sticky spot. Do you still go hard after tried and true characters and teams at the risk that power creep will leave them in the dust? Or do you farm the new hotness as soon as you can in the hope that it will unlock more rewards down the line? Like the Inks (inquistors) suck, but CG added them to so many events that if you invested in them early, you really benefited. Will Dr. Aphra get the same treatment (IMO no, she won't, because she and her requirements are actually good and people will want them without the need for other carrots to entice them).
This is the hardest place, strategy-wise. You've got 1 or 2 GLs, maybe even 3. You want the new hotness when it comes out, and you've got the means to go after that. But at the expense of some other, accelerated farms. You also have enough crystal income that you can afford a hard node refresh or two. Is any of that worth it?
IMO no. I'd stick with the accelerated characters and get those all to 7 stars before starting on a single unaccelerated character. You're not really racing the biggest whales anyway. You're only racing your own shard. Specifically your ship shard.
GAC is a wash. The game is not designed for you to move up tiers as you gain GP; it's designed to keep you at a 50/50 win/loss ratio. Unless you're going to gain so much power that you'll leapfrog entire divisions (like from getting a strong defensive GL), focusing on GAC isn't worthwhile.
Fleets, however, are different. 400 crystals per day from 1st place is twice as much as 200 from 6th-10th place. God help you if you're in 50th or lower. And if you have to spend 20,000 crystals on profundity refreshes to jump from 10th to 1st each day, that 200 crystal difference will pay off in just 100 days. That's nothing in this game. Faster if you're jumping from a lower ranking. Long time frames, remember!
So you have some serious choices to make about where and how to invest, and what will net you the best returns.
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End Game:
Where I sit now, I'm able to farm every new character as it becomes available. I make enough crystal income to do the following daily (listed in what I believe is the order of importance):
- 3 fleet energy refreshes per day at 50 crystals each
- 3 normal energy refreshes per day at 50 crystals each
- up to 4 hard node attempt refreshes per day at 25 crystals each (no more than one attempt refresh per hard node - presently I am only doing 2 of these: the two murderbots)
- 3 cantina energy refreshes per day at 100 crystals each (presently I am doing zero of these as I save up to 9k crystals in order to guarantee 7 star profundity at the end of the month; once I hit 9k, I'll go back to doing all 3 of these refreshes per day)
After all of these purchases I will still gain 20-120 crystals daily (my income is 300ish from ships, 220 from gac placement, 100 from daily quests, and 5-250 from daily quest reward crate, plus the various other things that give me crystals like raids, TB, conquest, GAC wins, and events averaged out over time).
I don't spend crystals on anything else regularly. When I get a big nest egg saved (20k-ish) I'll occasionally gamble on an unfarmable character's pack (a terrible move, investment-wise), or I'll buy the Carbonite Circuit Board pack from the store if I'm low on those (a good value), or I'll just save them for the next crazy expensive farm a'la Executor and Profundity.
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I really hope this helps you because otherwise I just wasted like two hours of my life!
Cheers, and may the force be with you!

Narrator: Thanks for tuning into 111.1 The Akashic records, accessible only by mere willpower alone... Here's your host with the most... The Radio Demon! Today's topic... “Empowerment, no matter the cost”.
Radio Demon: Welcome back folks! Today we have a line of special, peculiar, and noteworthy guests... This is the never ending line of people who will continue to die on earth and end up here in hell to give there last words to humanity. I would like to give each one the stage to present themselves. To present the facts, truths, and even the lies. It will be your job as the viewer to distinguish the differences. As always... I will continue to be their devils' advocate.
Without further Ado...
Here is our 1st guest. To take the stage. The MAGICIAN. He claims hes greater than Merlin and Gandolf combined. I don’t believe a word he says. Here is your red carpet Magician man…
Magican : Abra kadabra!
Radio demon: What the fuck does that mean?
Magican: It means create as I speak in aramic. Show aramic abracadabra explanation
Radio Demon : Great… so your about to make everything out of thin air?
Magican: Yes, no more or less than you. I am the greatest warlock this world has ever seen!
Radio Demon: hmmm… Warlocks are known in some literature… to have silver tongues… Show d+D warlock silver tongue picture
Magican: I will now demonstrate how to use magic and its greatest power today. First the basics…
Runes are letters…. Show picture of runes
Radio Demon : Like the alphabet? Show picture of alphabet English side by side
Magican : Yes
Spells are words… Show picture of the literal word word.
Radio Demon : Is it because they are spelled out?
Magican : Yes and they are casted from your mouth. They are also formed by runes rearranged around. Show picture of someone barfing words out of their mouth and words swirling around someone's head. Side by side
Radio Demon: So like everyday speaking... Everyday reading... These are just words and letters....
Magican: Yes which also means... Grimoires are books… Show grimoire pictures
Radio Demon : Even a scouts handbook could be classified as a Grimoire? Show scouts handbook side by side
Magican: Yes. They are just pages filled with runes rearranged into words that are “Spelled out”. \
Every single thing you have heard or read or said, is all a magical spell that has the ability to change reality. Every man made thing in this world started with an idea, which started off as a word spelled in ones mind as a thought. That is magic. Show 3 monkeys hear no evil etc.
The 3 monkeys... depicting the hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil do no evil... really means.... (Hear no spells, see no spells written, speak no spells) (Be under no illusion) Do not cast illusion.
Radio Demon: That's probably why some monks take a vow of silence...
Magican: Yes, Also, did you know... the mantra they chant... "OM" is the 1st sound of the universe? Its interesting because Uni = one and verse = rhythm. Thus the monks are becoming one with the rhythm.
Radio Demon: They will have peace in life and peace in death.
Magican: They normally repeat it just 108 times. Their mantra beads have 108 beads. There is 108 moons distance between the earth and the moon. THere is 108 suns distance between the earth and the sun. There is also 108 earths that could span across the suns diameter.
Radio Demon: Google search confirms. Albeit it... is off by like decimal points. No human error is permitted here on earth, so it doesn't hold true it looks like.
Magican: Lets push forward.
Rituals are habits… Show ritual ceremony
Radio Demon : Like brushing my teeth or working out is a ritual? Show brushing teeth and working out / side by side
Magican : Yes!
Radio Demon : I thought magic was more magical and not the every day mundane…
Magican man : It is both. The more you separate things, the more the “magic” is lost. The more you combine things… The more “magic” is gained. The magical realm and reality are “One”. Everyone is casting their magic and “manipulating” reality around them or within themselves. Some people are just better at it than others. Some like to pretend as if it were all out of their control. Let me explain that a bit…
Your feelings become your thoughts. Your thoughts sometimes turn into feelings. While you cannot directly change your feelings. You can directly change your thoughts, which will in turn change how you feel, and thus give you new thoughts automatically.
This is simply just energy in motion. Also known as Emotion. Its how you transmute energy from the ethereal to reality. You are a manipulator of energy. You can’t create or destroy it. You just filter it. Show someone manipulating energy as magic
If you can’t control your emotions. Then you will be “Out of control”. You will no longer play an active part in your life. It will all be automated. The way to gain control… is to have an intention set. So there is a desired outcome. If there is no desired outcome. No intention. Then you will just be floating in the river without any options. Show someone changing emotions side by side with above
Let me be clear on intention. The more intentions you have. The more chaotic and out of control you will be. It is possible to just have one intention that branches off into every segment of your life. It is very hard for some to find this. However, if this is achieved… then it will be very easy to make decisions based off your intention. The universe will favor you. The fog will disappear. Your path will be illuminated with light.
Here is an example of “Clearing the fog”. Show fog
If my intention is to make a ton of money this year, so I don’t have to work the next 5 years. Then all my decisions will rotate around this. All my “Emotions” will warp around this idea. My path will be illuminated with light. All decisions will be made around this concept…
If my intention is not work for next 5 years, then maybe I will need to work 3-4 jobs this year… but I don’t really want to work more. I’m not lazy… But I don’t find meaning in working at my current job.
If my intention is to find meaning in my work. Do I really need 5 years off? Do I really need to work more jobs to find meaning in other work? I really just want to write…
My intention is really to write more.
If my intention is to write more, what am I writing about? What do I seek to achieve?
If my intention is to achieve something with my writing… What would I write about?
My intention is to inspire people to be heroes and not victims. I really do believe this is how the world changes. I have decided for this to be my ONE and TRUE intention. Everything else will branch off this one intention. Show light
Radio Demon : Haha, well now that you have your one intention true. Is it possible you could just change it again at any moment? What was the purpose in that?
Magician Man : Yes, It is true it could change at any moment. But for now, it is my light in the darkness. It guides me. It is something I Choose. It wasn’t Chosen for me. Let me continue….
Your thoughts become your words. Show quote online in picture
Your words become your actions.
Your actions become your habits.
Your habits become your character.
Your character becomes your destiny.
Radio Demon Dj : Who said that quote you just mentioned?
Magican : It was said by many over time, and the origin was lost in time. It no longer has creator that can be spoken, as it has been forgotten forever. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder" is another popular, yet lost origin quote.
Radio Demon: Wow you’re right… when I google it, seems like a lot of people said that….
Magican: I will continue:
Your Body is the temple. Show body is a temple picture
Your blood is the life. Show blood is life
Your light is you, which is also your intention. Show life is you
Your shadow is the light being blocked, Show shadow side
You sacrifice ways of life such as being an addict to make room for the better. Show giving up something
You cast spells at people through sound and sight. Using words in voice or on paper. Show magican casting a spell
Your Intention and vibration is the root of all magic. Both of these can change at any moment in time.
Never are you running out of time. No time to do anything. Show clock
You make time to do things. You made time to listen to this broadcast. A spell cast that is very broad. Show radio broadcast signals and a magican casting a broad spell side by side
Radio Demon: You mean that people that tell me, they have no time to meet up... is just another way of saying... they wont make time for me?
Magican: Yes. There is no reason to be upset by that though.
Radio Demon: I'm not upset. I'm just angry.
Magican: Was that an automatic emotion? Uncontrollable?
Radio Demon: I choose to be angry. It makes me happy. Those fuckers won't make time for me. As if I bore them.
Magican: You know for a fact you bore them? That perhaps, they are not good at managing their time? That they struggle with even getting to work on time?
Radio Demon: So they are just idiots?
Magican: Not necessarily. It could be that their main focus is elsewhere, and they deem that over all other things to include time management... It isn't good... because time management is the only way to achieve completion of their focus... Unless... their focus is unachievable... then they will be lost in time...
Radio Demon: So a lost soul basically? One whom cannot master time and travel through it efficiently?
Magican: Yes, they define efficient though. It is not your role to define it for them.
Radio Demon: What the fuck does that mean? Everyone's definition of efficient should be the same.
Magican: I bet you will be hard pressed to find everyone working at the same efficiency, yet will agree to the dictionary word in mass. Its their measurement of efficiency that greatly differs. With loading a truck some, may say 300 lbs of stuff in an hour is efficient enough to get it off the truck and loaded elsewhere. But some may say its only efficient if you can do 2000 lbs of stuff.
Another good example would be the definition of Love. Ask everyone around you... how do they define love? Almost every single person will define it differently, especially when you ask for examples. Its all varying degrees of measurements or extremes.
Radio Demon: So we all use the same words, but everything is defined diffrently for each person? Is this like that tower of babel story? So the people could never be unified in their choices?
Magican: Yes.
Radio Demon: So people actively changing definitions of things like "Racism, Gender, Sex, Good, Evil, Education" Is this good? These definitions seem to change in the media quite often over the last few years...
Magican: If someone is forcing you to change your definitions. Then they are changing your thoughts on the topic. Which means they are changing how you feel on it. Since you feel and think 24.7. Its basically like changing your entire world. Definition is creation of our reality.
Radio Demon: If I don't want my world changed, or I want to change it differently... How would I combat this "Magic" of "Mind control"?
Magican: Just recognize it. Then do as you do. Do as you want. Do as you will.
Radio Demon: So free will is just recognizing it?
Magican: Yes free will is just recognizing it, you don't have a choice in it.
Radio Demon: What the fuck? I don't have a choice in free will?
Magican: It is law.
Radio Demon: Whose law? Who enforces it?
Magican: This law isnt enforced. It just is. Like a law of nature.
Radio Demon: Ok fuck it, lets get back to the lost souls. Should I save them?
Magican: I wouldn't recommend it. They choose that route. If you take away their choice with your will power, then they will turn against you. As you, have interfered with their free will.
Radio Demon: So just let them be?
Magican: Yes. Let us continue with my last words to humanity... How to get what we want....
You manifest what you want using your thoughts which are feelings that are converted into words.
You felt like reading this. You felt like listening to this. You felt like thinking about it. You have so many feelings. Because you can feel like doing anything, nothing, and everything in between. I mean I felt like speaking this. What an odd feeling to have.
Radio Demon: I feel like replying. But don't have anything else to say other than that... That is strange....
Magican: It would be impossible to label every single feeling from 1-infinity. We have a hard time keeping up with the energy in motion now. Emotions. There are so many of these now, that we cant name them all even at a short number of 27. In which I mean you would be hard pressed to guess which ones were the 27 deemed by scientists with 100% accuracy, without looking it up. The basic ones used to be happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, and disgust. Which was a good range of gaging the human spectrum of feeling. Now we are more accurate with 27. Things such as calmness. Confusion. Boredom. Envy. Nostalgia.
However, outside these 27. Lies infinite feeling. Unlabeled feeling. I mean they could come up with a feeling that is specifically being content with going to a specific job that works with whales with lazer beams attached that could teleport on command across the universe instantly. Because no one has ever felt that before. Those are new words that have new feeling. Your feelings are your thoughts. Which are your words. So if there is a damn near infinite amount of words we can say, with no limit to how many words we can use… There is a damn near infinite amount of feeling we could potentially feel. There are so many now that do not have labels.
Radio Demon: I feel overwhelmed. I feel like we are getting no where with this conversation...
Magican: I am not moving you to any particular location. I am just shifting your feeling around. To show this through example is the best method for me to teach you how magic works. How to manipulate the energy. With just words.
So many thoughts, words, and feelings. Have been mixed up now. Now… its so confusing. We have lost our order in things. It has become a disorder. Your feeling has become out of control. Your thoughts are out of control. You are out of control. Your temple is running loose in the world. You are a danger. You are feeling more than you should…
Radio Demon: AHHHHHHHH I feel crazy now. Are you saying they are coming to put me in the looney bin? Will I be heavily sedated?
Magican: These are just feelings and thoughts for now. You have committed no actions yet. Its about reigning in and recognizing it, before it turns into action. However, if your actions start to go out of control, because your emotions went out of control....
The powers that be, will find you. They will change your thoughts on this. Or else their definitions of the words you use might be lost. Magicians used to make their staves out of HOLY Wood. They then would cast their spells at you. Now, all you got is Hollywood out of California. They have the power to change your thoughts now.
They "Entertain" you. Just as we are "Entertaining" them. They just do it with a lot more money and pretty movies with pretty actors. They can make anything seem beautiful.
Radio Demon: So... how do they know. If I'm "Wrong thinking"? How are the illuminati gonna come hunt me down?
Magican: They won't. Unless its posted somewhere, where there is moderation of some sort. Then you will be removed or banned for stepping out of that narrow thought zone. You will simply be deemed as spreading mis information.
Radio: Even if we disguise it as a fake radio show with fake characters?
Magican: Yes, even that will be banned in many locations. For Wrong think.
Radio Demon: Madness. #Doubt
Magican: Anything. That takes away from the beauty of their entertainment, is deemed a threat. You are threatening their ideas that create the reality for its viewers through smoke and mirrors. The moment you create a potential reality. They will be there to snip it out of existence.
Radio Demon: I threaten their future of their desired world?
Magican: Yes.
Radio Demon: Good.
Magican: WHat?
Radio Demon: Nevermind. Continue.
Magican: There is something earlier that we mentioned with Mantras. With the 108. Do you know of anyone in the world. Who listens to the same shows or same songs every single day?
Radio Demon: Yes, quite a few people do that.
Magican: They are stuck in loops. The media controls their thoughts. They think its their own thoughts. If they are watching media all day, they have no time to think for themselves.
Radio Demon: There is no original thought. Everything here as well as already been said.
Magican: Correct.
Radio Demon: If they turn off the media. Then the people would have to live with themselves. Most people find themselves unbearable to live with. As they combat themselves in the mind in a never ending battle. How do you combat this.
Magican: Practice. Pick better words to tell yourself. Be kind to yourself.
Radio Demon: Easier said than done. Lets move on.
Magican:
Like a Genie who grants wishes to other people. Someone must use one of the wishes you grant to free you. I just wished people would watch this. You the Radio Demon have granted me that wish. I was granted my wish. So I will free you. So without you asking. My next wish and final wish is to free you from your thoughts and words that are spells that were casted against you. You are no longer bound. Your demons now conquered. You can now grant your own wishes.
Radio Demon: Your words are just manipulating me into thinking I am free, when all they are... is just that... words....
Magican: Yes. I have manipulated you. Do you choose to stay manipulated from this point moving forward? What will you do with that knowledge?
Radio Demon: Nothing. Thanks for no THING.
Magican: I never promised you any THING.
Radio Demon: I guess it doesn't matter.
Magican: Matter is physical. I haven't given you anything physical.
Radio Demon: Fuck you.
Magican: I will continue...
Without words which are also spells; You wouldn’t have the ability to think so abstractly. So otherworldy… If your feeling of who you are fades. Then your thoughts are faded. You are lost. With no power to shine your light and cast out the shadows. You are under someone elses spell. The words they have casted on you has told you to go against your own light. They blocked it and turned it into your shadow which now blocks the light. Let me en Lighten you with my light. Which is also my fire. As it burns brightly.
What do you do? You simply recognize that all words said, seen, heard, felt thru brail, and maybe even possibly in the late late future smelled… Because all senses can interpret words. All senses can be targeted by magical spells. Hopefully you are beyond the NON sense.
Its almost as if you knew this all along. But forgot. Now you are remembering. You are awakening from your sleep. You were in the darkness for so long. It is I THE GREATEST Warlock whom has ever lived, that is casting the greatest spell ever broadly casted to awaken you.
Radio Demon: I was never asleep.
Magican:
As above so below as it is in the heavens so it is on earth. As it is in your mind so it is in reality. You reap what you sow. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Your consciousness is the philosophers stone. What you put into it. Is what will come out of it.
Radio Demon: The philosophers stone... is just our consciousness.... it does make sense... that what ever energy we put into it, it puts out. It is equivalent exchange like that dumb anime cartoon.... Or like that one movie where they get lost in the french catacombs... it was called as above so below.... So are you saying a physical philsophers stone doesnt exist? Its just in our mind? Almost as if it were "Made up"? hahahahha...
Magican: Yes.
I will continue...
Anytime anyone ever speaks or relays information to you. It is to manipulate you into doing something. Its how people “deal” with people. For good, bad, and everything in between. They aren’t just speaking to hear their own voice. They rarely do.. Recognize this. It is your responsibility to do so.
I view will as power. The power to do something. The will to do something. So if I give my power to someone else. I am giving them my will. So I like to encourage people to empower themselves. When people say. Its not my fault. Its not their fault. Its nobodys fault. Then everyone is powerless in that situation. But anyone who claims responsibility of it. Has the power now. The most responsible for their actions are the most powerful. Are you going to start being responsible for how you think? Or will you let others cast you under their spell?
This is illusion and disillusion. This is how to dispel. Be aware of it. For if your responsible for everything in your life. You have full power over your life. Its as simple as that. Its magic.
My intention is to empower you. My vibration is changing with the same intention. See peoples intentions and their words no longer matter. Get better at it. Try observing more. Trust your feeling. Trust your words, not someone elses. Taking control of your power is when and where the magic happens. You can change your world.
Try not to fall under your own spell. Don’t get caught in any loops!
Magican: This following quote is from Laurel Arica. I just want to share it real quick, as it ties greatly with the "Green language" Or "The language of the birds". Its supposed to be an enochian angelic language. But it is plain speak and can be understood by anyone. It is eye opening for some.
"We awake each mourning and go off during the weekdays to earn the living at various jobs and undertakings until we come to the weekend. This seems perfectly acceptable to most people, however more people die between 6-9 on a Monday mourning than any other time of the week.
Translation:
A "wake" is a funeral party for the dead.
"Mourning" is the state you're in when you attend a "wake".
You would have to be in a weak daze to "earn" the "living"
"Earns" (URNS) are for the ashes of the dead.
We call our Jobs undertakings
Job itself is a herbrew word for persecuted.
What we get at the end of this perverse bargin with life is the "weekend" (Weak end) of the deal.
As we become progressively weakened. Ourselves.
So our most prevalent greeting to each other is. "HELLO" the reverse of which is "O hell..."
At first I suspected the hands of collusion entangling the language to foster illusion.
I think it quite true, that a cultures theology, has a great deal to do with the words etymology.
How it evolves over time to combine incompatible meanings that may undermine the original thoughts it was meant to define.
I don't think its planned, For the thing that I found is that light concepts can gravitate toward the same sound and vibrate at the rate our thoughts designate. Because words are electromagnetic vibrations whose fine alphabetic tintinnabulations can take on the tint of our true expectations, which they then imprint of our medal of mind causing sounds to adhere, when their of the same kind." - Laurel Airica
Magican: To expand with one last example for Laurel Airicas statement.
I want you to understand something. Are you familiar with the court system? When you are on trial. Being judged by the judge? You are under their stand. As they judge you. Do you understand?
Radio Demon: Will you judge me, If I have understood nothing?
Magican: That is the point.
Radio Demon: No.
Magican: Maybe the audience will UNDERSTAND some of this...
I will move on to names.... This excerpt is from the smokeless fire book.
"The essential character of things and of men resides in their names. Therefore to know a name is to be privy to the secret of its owner's being, and master of his fate. The members of many primitive tribes have two names, one for public use, the other jealously concealed, known only to the man who bears it."..." To know the name of a man is to exercise power of him alone; to know the name of a higher, supernatural being is to dominate the entire province over which that being presides. The more such names a magician has garnered, the greater the number of spirits that are subject to his call and command. This simple theory is at the bottom of the magic which operates through the mystical names and words that are believed to control forces which in turn control our world. The spirits guarded their names as jealously as ever did a primitive tribe." -- Joshua Trachtenberg "Jewish Magic and Superstition', 1939 (Smokeless Fire)
While the recent passage shared is true. Names can change. Labels can change. For you anyways. You can call upon anything you want to by “Acting” out. Call it a summon if you will. You will act out a summon. It will serve its purpose to you and for you. You could call out your inner angel, your inner demon, Your inner god, your inner satan. Your inner Jesus. You could call it your inner magican, your inner dad, your inner stoner, your inner little philosopher. Your inner child. Your inner you.
You are all of those things at once. Because you can feel at all angles of those personas. You can call it what ever you want. The more of these names you have. The more power you will have. The more responsibility you will have. The more feeling you will have. Because you will have more words to describe and create those feelings. It is a tool. That you can add to your kit. Your roles can switch at a moments notice and you can summon a new one because you learned of its true name. Once these roles/labels/names have been mastered. You will be able to puppet all others who play those roles. You will know the weakness of that role. The strength of that role. Why that role cannot stand on its own and needs to change. You are the mover of roles. Mover of names, mover of feeling. You are manipulating them to get them to do what you want now.
Radio Demon: That just sounds like multiple personality disorder.
Magican: Do you just stick to one personality? Does it not change as you grow older? Are you the same as when you were a child?
Radio Demon: Well... yes... I have changed since I was a child. I guess its only a disease, when people can't use it to their benefit? But if they do use it to their benefit. Wouldn't that mean they are a sociopath? They are just changing their mask to get what they want...
Magican: Call it what you want.
Radio Demon: If what you say is true.... that would mean our society actively dis courages this. It would effectively make the user of multiple names an outcast. They would actively have to try to hide it, and not let it be known. Or else they risk society deeming them mentally ill, potentially creating rifts for them between their jobs, family, and friends.
Magican: Yes... you would be a risk, for wrong think.
Radio Demon: Madness... How would you combat such a risk?
Magican: Pick your battles. Don't fight every fight.
Radio Demon: So let people run right through me? Accept the shit that comes my way?
Magican: Yes, as long as it doesn't interfere with your intention that you set earlier. Nothing else matters.
Radio Demon: That is very narrow minded.
Magican: All the greats of the world. Sacrifice everything else to be successful in their one true passion. It is the price they pay for greatness.
Radio Demon: Lets move on.
Magican: I have casted a spell of words at you to throw you in illusion. Like a mirror of ones mind. Now that you can see it, now you can dispel it. If your imagination is dimmed or lost. Then you will be unable to imagine a better future for yourself. So try to image these structures as real. These inner structures. These instructions.
If you feel any different than when you started listening to this. Then it was done with words. Just as a movie or a tv show should. Did I move any feeling around casting spells?
All I did was just flop my silver tongue like a warlock in DND. I just did it with sound. Are you easily effected by sound alone? That’s magic. I hope I put you at ease. If I didn’t you might be “Dis” eased. I don’t want you to have some sort of mental illness from this... If you can't use it, then you should lose it. Don't become lost in time.
Radio Demon: Silence! Magican! I will no longer be affected by your illusions of grandeur. I am taking back control of my energy. My patience has waned far enough. Hopefully this was entertaining for the viewers at home. I am bored of this conversation. May your soul burn away in the depths of hell below.
Magican: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNSSSS!!!
(Cut to bones song slowly about patience waning, magic in bones)
(Commercial)
Narrator tuning back in.
Demon Radio DJ. WOAAA that was crazyyyy fuckin stupid. My emotions are a bit mixed on that. But thankfully I am able to step back and see that these were all just words. I know for a fact that whole thing was a lie. Hopefully our viewers can understand this with their human brains. No one wants to think like that! Wait…. Is that my own thought? Never mind. Up next. We have funny man. The jester for the courts. The dark trickster himself!

Greetings my fellow occult travelers. I have made a skit below. Its intent is to spread occult/spiritual awareness at the most basic level, while at the same time merging the magical world in the real physical world as one action that everyone can see on the surface. I think the occult may find interest in it, while at the same time being highly controversial.
The skits main focus is actually to empower people as heros instead of victims... in a very curvy like way. I marked this under the creativity flair!!!! I created this myself, and according to the rules on this page, I will only post it once!
Narrator: Thanks for tuning into 111.1 The Akashic records, accessible only by mere willpower alone... Here's your host with the most... Liquid Sloth the Radio Demo! Today's topic... “Empowerment, no matter the cost”.
Demon Radio DJ. Welcome back folks! Today we have a line of special, peculiar, and noteworthy guests. This is the never ending line of people who will continue to die on earth and end up here in hell to give there last words to humanity. I would like to give each one the stage to present themselves. To present the facts, truths, and even the lies. It will be your job as the viewer to distinguish the differences.
Without further Ado...
Here is our 1st guest. To take the stage. The MAGICIAN. He claims hes greater than Merlin and Gandolf combined. I don’t believe a word he says. Here is your red carpet Magician man…
Magican : Abra kadabra!
Radio demon: What the fuck does that mean?
Magican: It means create as I speak in aramic. Show aramic abrakabra explaination
Radio Demon : Great… so your about to make everything out of thin air?
Magican: Yes, no more or less than you. I am the greatest warlock this world has ever seen!
Radio Demon: hmmm… Warlocks are known in some literature… to have silver tongues… Show d+D warlock silver tongue picture
Magican: I will now demonstrate how to use magic and its greatest power today. First the basics…
Runes are letters…. Show picture of runes
Radio Demon : Like the alphabet? Show picture of alphabet English side by side
Magican : Yes
Spells are words… Show picture of the literal word word.
Radio Demon : Is it because they are spelled out?
Magican : Yes and they are casted from your mouth. Show picture of someone barfing words out of their mouth and words swirling around someones head. Side by side
Grimoires are books… Show grimore pictures
Radio Demon : Even a scouts handbook could be classified as a Grimorie? Show scouts handbook side by side
Magican: Yes. They are just pages filled with runes rearranged into words that are “Spelled out”. Its almost like that wise tale with the 3 monkeys showing the hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil. (Hear no spells, see no spells written, speak no spells) Every single thing you have heard or read or said, is all a magical spell that has the ability to change reality. Every man made thing in this world started with an idea, which started off as a word spelled in ones mind as a thought. That is magic. Show 3 monkeys hear no evil etc.
Rituals are habits… Show ritual cermony
Radio Demon : Like brushing my teeth or working out is a ritual? Show brushing teeth and working out / side by side
Magican : Yes!
Radio Demon : I thought magic was more magical and not the every day mundane…
Magican man : It is both. The more you separate things, the more the “magic” is lost. The more you combine things… The more “magic” is gained. The magical realm and reality are “One”. Everyone is casting their magic and “manipulating” reality around them or within themselves. Some people are just better at it than others. Some like to pretend as if it were all out of their control. Let me explain that a bit…
Your feelings become your thoughts. Your thoughts sometimes turn into feelings. While you cannot directly change your feelings. You can directly change your thoughts, which will in turn change how you feel, and thus give you new thoughts automatically.
This is simply just energy in motion. Also known as Emotion. Its how you transmute energy from the ethereal to reality. You are a manipulator of energy. You can’t create or destroy it. You just filter it. Show someone manipulating energy as magic
If you can’t control your emotions. Then you will be “Out of control”. You will no longer play an active part in your life. It will all be automated. The way to gain control… is to have an intention set. So there is a desired outcome. If there is no desired outcome. No intention. Then you will just be floating in the river without any options. Show someone changing emotions side by side with above
Let me be clear on intention. The more intentions you have. The more chaotic and out of control you will be. It is possible to just have one intention that branches off into every segment of your life. It is very hard for some to find this. However, if this is achieved… then it will be very easy to make decisions based off your intention. The universe will favor you. The fog will disappear. Your path will be illuminated with light.
Here is an example of “Clearing the fog”. Show fog
If my intention is to make a ton of money this year, so I don’t have to work the next 5 years. Then all my decisions will rotate around this. All my “Emotions” will warp around this idea. My path will be illuminated with light. All decisions will be made around this concept…
If my intention is not work for next 5 years, then maybe I will need to work 3-4 jobs this year… but I don’t really want to work more. I’m not lazy… But I don’t find meaning in working at my current job.
If my intention is to find meaning in my work. Do I really need 5 years off? Do I really need to work more jobs to find meaning in other work? I really just want to write…
My intention is really to write more.
If my intention is to write more, what am I writing about? What do I seek to achieve?
If my intention is to achieve something with my writing… What would I write about?
My intention is to inspire people to be heroes and not victims. I really do believe this is how the world changes. I have decided for this to be my ONE and TRUE intention. Everything else will branch off this one intention. Show light
Radio Demon : Haha, well now that you have your one intention true. Is it possible you could just change it again at any moment? What was the purpose in that?
Magican Man : Yes, It is true it could change at any moment. But for now, it is my light in the darkness. It guides me. It is something I Choose. It wasn’t Chosen for me. Let me continue….
Your thoughts become your words. Show quote online in picture
Your words become your actions.
Your actions become your habits.
Your habits become your character.
Your character becomes your destiny.
Radio Demon Dj : Who said that quote you just mentioned?
Magican : It was said by many over time, and the origin was lost in time. It no longer has creator that can be spoken, as it has been forgotten forever. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder" is another popular, yet lost origin quote.
Radio Demon: Wow you’re right… when I google it, seems like a lot of people said that….
Magican: I will continue:
Your Body is the temple. Show body is a temple picture
Your blood is the life. Show blood is life
Your light is you, which is also your intention. Show life is you
Your shadow is the light being blocked, Show shadow side
You sacrifice ways of life such as being an addict to make room for the better. Show giving up something
You cast spells at people through sound and sight. Using words in voice or on paper. Show magican casting a spell
Your Intention and vibration is the root of all magic. Both of these can change at any moment in time.
Never are you running out of time. No time to do anything. Show clock
You make time to do things. You made time to listen to this broadcast. A spell cast that is very broad. Show radio broadcast signals and a magican casting a broad spell side by side
Radio Demon: You mean that people that tell me, they have no time to meet up... is just another way of saying... they wont make time for me?
Magican: Yes. There is no reason to be upset by that though.
Radio Demon: I'm not upset. I'm just angry.
Magican: Was that an automatic emotion? Uncontrollable?
Radio Demon: I choose to be angry. It makes me happy. Those fuckers won't make time for me. As if I bore them.
Magican: You know for a fact you bore them? That perhaps, they are not good at managing their time? That they struggle with even getting to work on time?
Radio Demon: So they are just idiots?
Magican: Not necessarily. It could be that their main focus is elsewhere, and they deem that over all other things to include time management... It isn't good... because time management is the only way to achieve completion of their focus... Unless... their focus is unachievable... then they will be lost in time...
Radio Demon: So a lost soul basically? One whom cannot master time and travel through it efficiently?
Magican: Yes, they define efficient though. It is not your role to define it for them.
Radio Demon: What the fuck does that mean? Everyone's definition of efficient should be the same.
Magican: I bet you will be hard pressed to find everyone working at the same efficiency, yet will agree to the dictionary word in mass. Its their measurement of efficiency that greatly differs. With loading a truck some, may say 300 lbs of stuff in an hour is efficient enough to get it off the truck and loaded elsewhere. But some may say its only efficient if you can do 2000 lbs of stuff.
Another good example would be the definition of Love. Ask everyone around you... how do they define love? Almost every single person will define it differently, especially when you ask for examples. Its all varying degrees of measurements or extremes.
Radio Demon: So we all use the same words, but everything is defined diffrently for each person? Is this like that tower of babel story? So the people could never be unified in their choices?
Magican: Yes.
Radio Demon: So people actively changing definitions of things like "Racism, Gender, Sex, Good, Evil, Education" Is this good? These definitions seem to change in the media quite often over the last few years...
Magican: If someone is forcing you to change your definitions. Then they are changing your thoughts on the topic. Which means they are changing how you feel on it. Since you feel and think 24.7. Its basically like changing your entire world. Definition is creation of our reality.
Radio Demon: If I don't want my world changed, or I want to change it differently... How would I combat this "Magic" of "Mind control"?
Magican: Just recognize it. Then do as you do. Do as you want. Do as you will.
Radio Demon: So free will is just recognizing it?
Magican: Yes free will is just recognizing it, you don't have a choice in it.
Radio Demon: What the fuck?
Magican: It is law.
Radio Demon: Whose law? Who enforces it?
Magican: This law isnt enforced. It just is. Like a law of nature.
Radio Demon: Ok fuck it, lets get back to the lost souls. Should I save them?
Magican: I wouldn't recommend it. They choose that route. If you take away their choice with your will power, then they will turn against you. As you, have interfered with their free will.
Radio Demon: So just let them be?
Magican: Yes. Let us continue with my last words to humanity... How to get what we want....
You manifest what you want using your thoughts which are feelings that are converted into words.
You felt like reading this. You felt like listening to this. You felt like thinking about it. You have so many feelings. Because you can feel like doing anything, nothing, and everything in between. I mean I felt like speaking this. What an odd feeling to have.
Radio Demon: I feel like replying. But don't have anything else to say other than that... That is strange....
Magican: It would be impossible to label every single feeling from 1-infinity. We have a hard time keeping up with the energy in motion now. Emotions. There are so many of these now, that we cant name them all even at a short number of 27. In which I mean you would be hard pressed to guess which ones were the 27 deemed by scientists with 100% accuracy, without looking it up. The basic ones used to be happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, and disgust. Which was a good range of gaging the human spectrum of feeling. Now we are more accurate with 27. Things such as calmness. Confusion. Boredom. Envy. Nostalgia.
However, outside these 27. Lies infinite feeling. Unlabeled feeling. I mean they could come up with a feeling that is specifically being content with going to a specific job that works with whales with lazer beams attached that could teleport on command across the universe instantly. Because no one has ever felt that before. Those are new words that have new feeling. Your feelings are your thoughts. Which are your words. So if there is a damn near infinite amount of words we can say, with no limit to how many words we can use… There is a damn near infinite amount of feeling we could potentially feel. There are so many now that do not have labels.
Radio Demon: I feel overwhelmed. I feel like we are getting no where with this conversation...
Magican: I am not moving you to any particular location. I am just shifting your feeling around. To show this through example is the best method for me to teach you how magic works. How to manipulate the energy. With just words.
So many thoughts, words, and feelings. Have been mixed up now. Now… its so confusing. We have lost our order in things. It has become a disorder. Your feeling has become out of control. Your thoughts are out of control. You are out of control. Your temple is running loose in the world. You are a danger. You are feeling more than you should…
Radio Demon: AHHHHHHHH I feel crazy now. Are you saying they are coming to put me in the looney bin? Will I be heavily sedated?
Magican: These are just feelings and thoughts for now. You have committed no actions yet. Its about reigning in and recognizing it, before it turns into action. However, if your actions start to go out of control, because your emotions went out of control....
The powers that be, will find you. They will change your thoughts on this. Or else their definitions of the words you use might be lost. Magicans used to make their staves out of HOLY Wood. They then would cast their spells at you. Now, all you got is Hollywood out of California. They have the power to change your thoughts now. You might start feeling other things. Other ways of thinking. You might start feeling and thinking this 24.7.
If someone is controlling your patterns of thinking, they are controlling your power. The words you use determines how you literally feel. Because it works both ways. Your words can also become your feeling. You can change how you feel with your words!
You can think it into existence from a void. Like the big bang occurring in that tiny part of your brain that feels that way.
Like a Genie who grants wishes to other people. Someone must use one of the wishes you grant to free you. I just wished people would watch this. You the Radio Demon have granted me that wish. I was granted my wish. So I will free you. So without you asking. My next wish and final wish is to free you from your thoughts and words that are spells that were casted against you. You are no longer bound. Your demons now conquered. You can now grant your own wishes.
Radio Demon: Your words are just manipulating me into thinking I am free, when all they are... is just that... words....
Magican: Yes. I have manipulated you. Do you choose to stay manipulated from this point moving forward? What will you do with that knowledge?
Radio Demon: I guess nothing. No action will come from this. I thank you, for dis spelling me. Destroying the illusion. I guess?
Magican: I will continue...
Without words which are also spells; You wouldn’t have the ability to think so abstractly. So otherworldy… If your feeling of who you are fades. Then your thoughts are faded. You are lost. With no power to shine your light and cast out the shadows. You are under someone elses spell. The words they have casted on you has told you to go against your own light. They blocked it and turned it into your shadow which now blocks the light. Let me en Lighten you with my light. Which is also my fire. As it burns brightly.
What do you do? You simply recognize that all words said, seen, heard, felt thru brail, and maybe even possibly in the late late future smelled… Because all senses can interpret words. All senses can be targeted by magical spells. Hopefully you are beyond the NON sense.
Its almost as if you knew this all along. But forgot. Now you are remembering. You are awakening from your sleep. You were in the darkness for so long. It is I THE GREATEST Warlock whom has ever lived, that is casting the greatest spell ever broadly casted to awaken you.
As above so below as it is in the heavens so it is on earth. As it is in your mind so it is in reality. You reap what you sow. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Your consciousness is the philosophers stone. What you put into it. Is what will come out of it.
Radio Demon: The philosophers stone... is just our consciousness.... it does make sense... that what ever energy we put into it, it puts out. It is equivalent exchange like that dumb anime cartoon.... Or like that one movie where they get lost in the french catacombs... it was called as above so below.... So are you saying a physical philsophers stone doesnt exist? Its just in our mind? Almost as if it were "Made up"? hahahahha...
Magican: Yes.
I will continue...
Anytime anyone ever speaks or relays information to you. It is to manipulate you into doing something. Its how people “deal” with people. For good, bad, and everything in between. They aren’t just speaking to hear their own voice. They rarely do.. Recognize this. It is your responsibility to do so.
I view will as power. The power to do something. The will to do something. So if I give my power to someone else. I am giving them my will. So I like to encourage people to empower themselves. When people say. Its not my fault. Its not their fault. Its nobodys fault. Then everyone is powerless in that situation. But anyone who claims responsibility of it. Has the power now. The most responsible for their actions are the most powerful. Are you going to start being responsible for how you think? Or will you let others cast you under their spell?
This is illusion and disillusion. This is how to dispel. Be aware of it. For if your responsible for everything in your life. You have full power over your life. Its as simple as that. Its magic.
My intention is to empower you. My vibration is changing with the same intention. See peoples intentions and their words no longer matter. Get better at it. Try observing more. Trust your feeling. Trust your words, not someone elses. Taking control of your power is when and where the magic happens. You can change your world.
Try not to fall under your own spell. Don’t get caught in any loops!
Magican: This following quote is from Laurel Arica. I just want to share it real quick, as it ties greatly with the "Green language" Or "The language of the birds". Its supposed to be an enochian angelic language. But it is plain speak and can be understood by anyone. It is eye opening for some.
"We awake each mourning and go off during the weekdays to earn the living at various jobs and undertakings until we come to the weekend. This seems perfectly acceptable to most people, however more people die between 6-9 on a Monday mourning than any other time of the week.
Translation:
A "wake" is a funeral party for the dead.
"Mourning" is the state you're in when you attend a "wake".
You would have to be in a weak daze to "earn" the "living"
"Earns" (URNS) are for the ashes of the dead.
We call our Jobs undertakings
Job itself is a herbrew word for persecuted.
What we get at the end of this perverse bargin with life is the "weekend" (Weak end) of the deal.
As we become progressively weakened. Ourselves.
So our most prevalent greeting to each other is. "HELLO" the reverse of which is "O hell..."
At first I suspected the hands of collusion entangling the language to foster illusion.
I think it quite true, that a cultures theology, has a great deal to do with the words etymology.
How it evolves over time to combine incompatible meanings that may undermine the original thoughts it was meant to define.
I don't think its planned, For the thing that I found is that light concepts can gravitate toward the same sound and vibrate at the rate our thoughts designate. Because words are electromagnetic vibrations whose fine alphabetic tintinnabulations can take on the tint of our true expectations, which they then imprint of our medal of mind causing sounds to adhere, when their of the same kind." - Laurel Airica
Magican: To expand with one last example for Laurel Airicas statement. I want you to understand something. Are you familiar with the court system? When you are on trial. Being judged by the judge? You are under their stand. As they judge you. Do you understand? I will move on to names.... This excerpt is from the smokeless fire book.
"The essential character of things and of men resides in their names. Therefore to know a name is to be privy to the secret of its owner's being, and master of his fate. The members of many primitive tribes have two names, one for public use, the other jealously concealed, known only to the man who bears it."..." To know the name of a man is to exercise power of him alone; to know the name of a higher, supernatural being is to dominate the entire province over which that being presides. The more such names a magician has garnered, the greater the number of spirits that are subject to his call and command. This simple theory is at the bottom of the magic which operates through the mystical names and words that are believed to control forces which in turn control our world. The spirits guarded their names as jealously as ever did a primitive tribe." -- Joshua Trachtenberg "Jewish Magic and Superstition', 1939 (Smokeless Fire)
While the recent passage shared is true. Names can change. Labels can change. For you anyways. You can call upon anything you want to by “Acting” out. Call it a summon if you will. You will act out a summon. It will serve its purpose to you and for you. You could call out your inner angel, your inner demon, Your inner god, your inner satan. Your inner Jesus. You could call it your inner magican, your inner dad, your inner stoner, your inner little philosopher. Your inner child. Your inner you.
You are all of those things at once. Because you can feel at all angles of those personas. You can call it what ever you want. The more of these names you have. The more power you will have. The more responsibility you will have. The more feeling you will have. Because you will have more words to describe and create those feelings. It is a tool. That you can add to your kit. Your roles can switch at a moments notice and you can summon a new one because you learned of its true name. Once these roles/labels/names have been mastered. You will be able to puppet all others who play those roles. You will know the weakness of that role. The strength of that role. Why that role cannot stand on its own and needs to change. You are the mover of roles. Mover of names, mover of feeling. You are manipulating them to get them to do what you want now.
Radio Demon: That just sounds like multiple personality disorder.
Magican: Do you just stick to one personality? Does it not change as you grow older? Are you the same as when you were a child?
Radio Demon: Well... yes... I have changed since I was a child. I guess its only a disease, when people can't use it to their benefit? But if they do use it to their benefit. Wouldn't that mean they are a sociopath? They are just changing their mask to get what they want...
Magican: Call it what you want.
Radio Demon: If what you say is true.... that would mean our society actively dis courages this. It would effectively make the user of multiple names an outcast. They would actively have to try to hide it, and not let it be known. Or else they risk society deeming them mentally ill, potentially creating rifts for them between their jobs, family, and friends.
Magican: Yes... you would be a risk, for wrong think.
Radio Demon: Madness... How would you combat such a risk?
Magican: Pick your battles. Don't fight every fight.
Radio Demon: So let people run right through me? Accept the shit that comes my way?
Magican: Yes, as long as it doesn't interfere with your intention that you set earlier. Nothing else matters.
Radio Demon: That is very narrow minded.
Magican: All the greats of the world. Sacrifice everything else to be successful in their one true passion. It is the price they pay for greatness.
Radio Demon: Lets move on.
Magican: I have casted a spell of words at you to throw you in illusion. Like a mirror of ones mind. Now that you can see it, now you can dispel it. If your imagination is dimmed or lost. Then you will be unable to imagine a better future for yourself. So try to image these structures as real. These inner structures. These instructions.
If you feel any different than when you started listening to this. Then it was done with words. Just as a movie or a tv show should. Did I move any feeling around casting spells?
All I did was just flop my silver tongue like a warlock in DND. I just did it with sound. Are you easily effected by sound alone? That’s magic. I hope I put you at ease. If I didn’t you might be “Dis” eased. I don’t want you to have some sort of mental illness from this... If you can't use it, then you should lose it. Don't become lost in time.
Radio Demon: Silence! Magican! I will no longer be affected by your illusions of grandeur. I am taking back control of my energy. My patience has waned far enough. Hopefully this was entertaining for the viewers at home. I am bored of this conversation. May your soul burn away in the depths of hell below.
Magican: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNSSSS!!!
(Cut to bones song slowly about patience waning, magic in bones)
(Commercial)
Narrator tuning back in.
Demon Radio DJ. WOAAA that was crazyyyy fuckin stupid. My emotions are a bit mixed on that. But thankfully I am able to step back and see that these were all just words. I know for a fact that whole thing was a lie. Hopefully our viewers can understand this with their human brains. No one wants to think like that! Wait…. Is that my own thought? Never mind. Up next. We have funny man. The jester for the courts. The dark trickster himself!

Narrator: Thanks for tuning into 111.1 The Akashic records, accessible only by mere willpower alone... Here's your host with the most... The Radio Demon! Today's topic... “Empowerment, no matter the cost”.
Radio Demon: Welcome back folks! Today we have a line of special, peculiar, and noteworthy guests... This is the never ending line of people who will continue to die on earth and end up here in hell to give there last words to humanity. I would like to give each one the stage to present themselves. To present the facts, truths, and even the lies. It will be your job as the viewer to distinguish the differences. As always... I will continue to be their devils' advocate.
Without further Ado...
Here is our 1st guest. To take the stage. The MAGICIAN. He claims hes greater than Merlin and Gandolf combined. I don’t believe a word he says. Here is your red carpet Magician man…
Magican : Abra kadabra!
Radio demon: What the fuck does that mean?
Magican: It means create as I speak in aramic. Show aramic abracadabra explanation
Radio Demon : Great… so your about to make everything out of thin air?
Magican: Yes, no more or less than you. I am the greatest warlock this world has ever seen!
Radio Demon: hmmm… Warlocks are known in some literature… to have silver tongues… Show d+D warlock silver tongue picture
Magican: I will now demonstrate how to use magic and its greatest power today. First the basics…
Runes are letters…. Show picture of runes
Radio Demon : Like the alphabet? Show picture of alphabet English side by side
Magican : Yes
Spells are words… Show picture of the literal word word.
Radio Demon : Is it because they are spelled out?
Magican : Yes and they are casted from your mouth. They are also formed by runes rearranged around. Show picture of someone barfing words out of their mouth and words swirling around someone's head. Side by side
Radio Demon: So like everyday speaking... Everyday reading... These are just words and letters....
Magican: Yes which also means... Grimoires are books… Show grimoire pictures
Radio Demon : Even a scouts handbook could be classified as a Grimoire? Show scouts handbook side by side
Magican: Yes. They are just pages filled with runes rearranged into words that are “Spelled out”. \
Every single thing you have heard or read or said, is all a magical spell that has the ability to change reality. Every man made thing in this world started with an idea, which started off as a word spelled in ones mind as a thought. That is magic. Show 3 monkeys hear no evil etc.
The 3 monkeys... depicting the hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil do no evil... really means.... (Hear no spells, see no spells written, speak no spells) (Be under no illusion) Do not cast illusion.
Radio Demon: That's probably why some monks take a vow of silence...
Magican: Yes, Also, did you know... the mantra they chant... "OM" is the 1st sound of the universe? Its interesting because Uni = one and verse = rhythm. Thus the monks are becoming one with the rhythm.
Radio Demon: They will have peace in life and peace in death.
Magican: They normally repeat it just 108 times. Their mantra beads have 108 beads. There is 108 moons distance between the earth and the moon. THere is 108 suns distance between the earth and the sun. There is also 108 earths that could span across the suns diameter.
Radio Demon: Google search confirms. Albeit it... is off by like decimal points. No human error is permitted here on earth, so it doesn't hold true it looks like.
Magican: Lets push forward.
Rituals are habits… Show ritual ceremony
Radio Demon : Like brushing my teeth or working out is a ritual? Show brushing teeth and working out / side by side
Magican : Yes!
Radio Demon : I thought magic was more magical and not the every day mundane…
Magican man : It is both. The more you separate things, the more the “magic” is lost. The more you combine things… The more “magic” is gained. The magical realm and reality are “One”. Everyone is casting their magic and “manipulating” reality around them or within themselves. Some people are just better at it than others. Some like to pretend as if it were all out of their control. Let me explain that a bit…
Your feelings become your thoughts. Your thoughts sometimes turn into feelings. While you cannot directly change your feelings. You can directly change your thoughts, which will in turn change how you feel, and thus give you new thoughts automatically.
This is simply just energy in motion. Also known as Emotion. Its how you transmute energy from the ethereal to reality. You are a manipulator of energy. You can’t create or destroy it. You just filter it. Show someone manipulating energy as magic
If you can’t control your emotions. Then you will be “Out of control”. You will no longer play an active part in your life. It will all be automated. The way to gain control… is to have an intention set. So there is a desired outcome. If there is no desired outcome. No intention. Then you will just be floating in the river without any options. Show someone changing emotions side by side with above
Let me be clear on intention. The more intentions you have. The more chaotic and out of control you will be. It is possible to just have one intention that branches off into every segment of your life. It is very hard for some to find this. However, if this is achieved… then it will be very easy to make decisions based off your intention. The universe will favor you. The fog will disappear. Your path will be illuminated with light.
Here is an example of “Clearing the fog”. Show fog
If my intention is to make a ton of money this year, so I don’t have to work the next 5 years. Then all my decisions will rotate around this. All my “Emotions” will warp around this idea. My path will be illuminated with light. All decisions will be made around this concept…
If my intention is not work for next 5 years, then maybe I will need to work 3-4 jobs this year… but I don’t really want to work more. I’m not lazy… But I don’t find meaning in working at my current job.
If my intention is to find meaning in my work. Do I really need 5 years off? Do I really need to work more jobs to find meaning in other work? I really just want to write…
My intention is really to write more.
If my intention is to write more, what am I writing about? What do I seek to achieve?
If my intention is to achieve something with my writing… What would I write about?
My intention is to inspire people to be heroes and not victims. I really do believe this is how the world changes. I have decided for this to be my ONE and TRUE intention. Everything else will branch off this one intention. Show light
Radio Demon : Haha, well now that you have your one intention true. Is it possible you could just change it again at any moment? What was the purpose in that?
Magician Man : Yes, It is true it could change at any moment. But for now, it is my light in the darkness. It guides me. It is something I Choose. It wasn’t Chosen for me. Let me continue….
Your thoughts become your words. Show quote online in picture
Your words become your actions.
Your actions become your habits.
Your habits become your character.
Your character becomes your destiny.
Radio Demon Dj : Who said that quote you just mentioned?
Magican : It was said by many over time, and the origin was lost in time. It no longer has creator that can be spoken, as it has been forgotten forever. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder" is another popular, yet lost origin quote.
Radio Demon: Wow you’re right… when I google it, seems like a lot of people said that….
Magican: I will continue:
Your Body is the temple. Show body is a temple picture
Your blood is the life. Show blood is life
Your light is you, which is also your intention. Show life is you
Your shadow is the light being blocked, Show shadow side
You sacrifice ways of life such as being an addict to make room for the better. Show giving up something
You cast spells at people through sound and sight. Using words in voice or on paper. Show magican casting a spell
Your Intention and vibration is the root of all magic. Both of these can change at any moment in time.
Never are you running out of time. No time to do anything. Show clock
You make time to do things. You made time to listen to this broadcast. A spell cast that is very broad. Show radio broadcast signals and a magican casting a broad spell side by side
Radio Demon: You mean that people that tell me, they have no time to meet up... is just another way of saying... they wont make time for me?
Magican: Yes. There is no reason to be upset by that though.
Radio Demon: I'm not upset. I'm just angry.
Magican: Was that an automatic emotion? Uncontrollable?
Radio Demon: I choose to be angry. It makes me happy. Those fuckers won't make time for me. As if I bore them.
Magican: You know for a fact you bore them? That perhaps, they are not good at managing their time? That they struggle with even getting to work on time?
Radio Demon: So they are just idiots?
Magican: Not necessarily. It could be that their main focus is elsewhere, and they deem that over all other things to include time management... It isn't good... because time management is the only way to achieve completion of their focus... Unless... their focus is unachievable... then they will be lost in time...
Radio Demon: So a lost soul basically? One whom cannot master time and travel through it efficiently?
Magican: Yes, they define efficient though. It is not your role to define it for them.
Radio Demon: What the fuck does that mean? Everyone's definition of efficient should be the same.
Magican: I bet you will be hard pressed to find everyone working at the same efficiency, yet will agree to the dictionary word in mass. Its their measurement of efficiency that greatly differs. With loading a truck some, may say 300 lbs of stuff in an hour is efficient enough to get it off the truck and loaded elsewhere. But some may say its only efficient if you can do 2000 lbs of stuff.
Another good example would be the definition of Love. Ask everyone around you... how do they define love? Almost every single person will define it differently, especially when you ask for examples. Its all varying degrees of measurements or extremes.
Radio Demon: So we all use the same words, but everything is defined diffrently for each person? Is this like that tower of babel story? So the people could never be unified in their choices?
Magican: Yes.
Radio Demon: So people actively changing definitions of things like "Racism, Gender, Sex, Good, Evil, Education" Is this good? These definitions seem to change in the media quite often over the last few years...
Magican: If someone is forcing you to change your definitions. Then they are changing your thoughts on the topic. Which means they are changing how you feel on it. Since you feel and think 24.7. Its basically like changing your entire world. Definition is creation of our reality.
Radio Demon: If I don't want my world changed, or I want to change it differently... How would I combat this "Magic" of "Mind control"?
Magican: Just recognize it. Then do as you do. Do as you want. Do as you will.
Radio Demon: So free will is just recognizing it?
Magican: Yes free will is just recognizing it, you don't have a choice in it.
Radio Demon: What the fuck? I don't have a choice in free will?
Magican: It is law.
Radio Demon: Whose law? Who enforces it?
Magican: This law isnt enforced. It just is. Like a law of nature.
Radio Demon: Ok fuck it, lets get back to the lost souls. Should I save them?
Magican: I wouldn't recommend it. They choose that route. If you take away their choice with your will power, then they will turn against you. As you, have interfered with their free will.
Radio Demon: So just let them be?
Magican: Yes. Let us continue with my last words to humanity... How to get what we want....
You manifest what you want using your thoughts which are feelings that are converted into words.
You felt like reading this. You felt like listening to this. You felt like thinking about it. You have so many feelings. Because you can feel like doing anything, nothing, and everything in between. I mean I felt like speaking this. What an odd feeling to have.
Radio Demon: I feel like replying. But don't have anything else to say other than that... That is strange....
Magican: It would be impossible to label every single feeling from 1-infinity. We have a hard time keeping up with the energy in motion now. Emotions. There are so many of these now, that we cant name them all even at a short number of 27. In which I mean you would be hard pressed to guess which ones were the 27 deemed by scientists with 100% accuracy, without looking it up. The basic ones used to be happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, and disgust. Which was a good range of gaging the human spectrum of feeling. Now we are more accurate with 27. Things such as calmness. Confusion. Boredom. Envy. Nostalgia.
However, outside these 27. Lies infinite feeling. Unlabeled feeling. I mean they could come up with a feeling that is specifically being content with going to a specific job that works with whales with lazer beams attached that could teleport on command across the universe instantly. Because no one has ever felt that before. Those are new words that have new feeling. Your feelings are your thoughts. Which are your words. So if there is a damn near infinite amount of words we can say, with no limit to how many words we can use… There is a damn near infinite amount of feeling we could potentially feel. There are so many now that do not have labels.
Radio Demon: I feel overwhelmed. I feel like we are getting no where with this conversation...
Magican: I am not moving you to any particular location. I am just shifting your feeling around. To show this through example is the best method for me to teach you how magic works. How to manipulate the energy. With just words.
So many thoughts, words, and feelings. Have been mixed up now. Now… its so confusing. We have lost our order in things. It has become a disorder. Your feeling has become out of control. Your thoughts are out of control. You are out of control. Your temple is running loose in the world. You are a danger. You are feeling more than you should…
Radio Demon: AHHHHHHHH I feel crazy now. Are you saying they are coming to put me in the looney bin? Will I be heavily sedated?
Magican: These are just feelings and thoughts for now. You have committed no actions yet. Its about reigning in and recognizing it, before it turns into action. However, if your actions start to go out of control, because your emotions went out of control....
The powers that be, will find you. They will change your thoughts on this. Or else their definitions of the words you use might be lost. Magicians used to make their staves out of HOLY Wood. They then would cast their spells at you. Now, all you got is Hollywood out of California. They have the power to change your thoughts now.
They "Entertain" you. Just as we are "Entertaining" them. They just do it with a lot more money and pretty movies with pretty actors. They can make anything seem beautiful.
Radio Demon: So... how do they know. If I'm "Wrong thinking"? How are the illuminati gonna come hunt me down?
Magican: They won't. Unless its posted somewhere, where there is moderation of some sort. Then you will be removed or banned for stepping out of that narrow thought zone. You will simply be deemed as spreading mis information.
Radio: Even if we disguise it as a fake radio show with fake characters?
Magican: Yes, even that will be banned in many locations. For Wrong think.
Radio Demon: Madness. #Doubt
Magican: Anything. That takes away from the beauty of their entertainment, is deemed a threat. You are threatening their ideas that create the reality for its viewers through smoke and mirrors. The moment you create a potential reality. They will be there to snip it out of existence.
Radio Demon: I threaten their future of their desired world?
Magican: Yes.
Radio Demon: Good.
Magican: WHat?
Radio Demon: Nevermind. Continue.
Magican: There is something earlier that we mentioned with Mantras. With the 108. Do you know of anyone in the world. Who listens to the same shows or same songs every single day?
Radio Demon: Yes, quite a few people do that.
Magican: They are stuck in loops. The media controls their thoughts. They think its their own thoughts. If they are watching media all day, they have no time to think for themselves.
Radio Demon: There is no original thought. Everything here as well as already been said.
Magican: Correct.
Radio Demon: If they turn off the media. Then the people would have to live with themselves. Most people find themselves unbearable to live with. As they combat themselves in the mind in a never ending battle. How do you combat this.
Magican: Practice. Pick better words to tell yourself. Be kind to yourself.
Radio Demon: Easier said than done. Lets move on.
Magican:
Like a Genie who grants wishes to other people. Someone must use one of the wishes you grant to free you. I just wished people would watch this. You the Radio Demon have granted me that wish. I was granted my wish. So I will free you. So without you asking. My next wish and final wish is to free you from your thoughts and words that are spells that were casted against you. You are no longer bound. Your demons now conquered. You can now grant your own wishes.
Radio Demon: Your words are just manipulating me into thinking I am free, when all they are... is just that... words....
Magican: Yes. I have manipulated you. Do you choose to stay manipulated from this point moving forward? What will you do with that knowledge?
Radio Demon: Nothing. Thanks for no THING.
Magican: I never promised you any THING.
Radio Demon: I guess it doesn't matter.
Magican: Matter is physical. I haven't given you anything physical.
Radio Demon: Fuck you.
Magican: I will continue...
Without words which are also spells; You wouldn’t have the ability to think so abstractly. So otherworldy… If your feeling of who you are fades. Then your thoughts are faded. You are lost. With no power to shine your light and cast out the shadows. You are under someone elses spell. The words they have casted on you has told you to go against your own light. They blocked it and turned it into your shadow which now blocks the light. Let me en Lighten you with my light. Which is also my fire. As it burns brightly.
What do you do? You simply recognize that all words said, seen, heard, felt thru brail, and maybe even possibly in the late late future smelled… Because all senses can interpret words. All senses can be targeted by magical spells. Hopefully you are beyond the NON sense.
Its almost as if you knew this all along. But forgot. Now you are remembering. You are awakening from your sleep. You were in the darkness for so long. It is I THE GREATEST Warlock whom has ever lived, that is casting the greatest spell ever broadly casted to awaken you.
Radio Demon: I was never asleep.
Magican:
As above so below as it is in the heavens so it is on earth. As it is in your mind so it is in reality. You reap what you sow. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. Your consciousness is the philosophers stone. What you put into it. Is what will come out of it.
Radio Demon: The philosophers stone... is just our consciousness.... it does make sense... that what ever energy we put into it, it puts out. It is equivalent exchange like that dumb anime cartoon.... Or like that one movie where they get lost in the french catacombs... it was called as above so below.... So are you saying a physical philsophers stone doesnt exist? Its just in our mind? Almost as if it were "Made up"? hahahahha...
Magican: Yes.
I will continue...
Anytime anyone ever speaks or relays information to you. It is to manipulate you into doing something. Its how people “deal” with people. For good, bad, and everything in between. They aren’t just speaking to hear their own voice. They rarely do.. Recognize this. It is your responsibility to do so.
I view will as power. The power to do something. The will to do something. So if I give my power to someone else. I am giving them my will. So I like to encourage people to empower themselves. When people say. Its not my fault. Its not their fault. Its nobodys fault. Then everyone is powerless in that situation. But anyone who claims responsibility of it. Has the power now. The most responsible for their actions are the most powerful. Are you going to start being responsible for how you think? Or will you let others cast you under their spell?
This is illusion and disillusion. This is how to dispel. Be aware of it. For if your responsible for everything in your life. You have full power over your life. Its as simple as that. Its magic.
My intention is to empower you. My vibration is changing with the same intention. See peoples intentions and their words no longer matter. Get better at it. Try observing more. Trust your feeling. Trust your words, not someone elses. Taking control of your power is when and where the magic happens. You can change your world.
Try not to fall under your own spell. Don’t get caught in any loops!
Magican: This following quote is from Laurel Arica. I just want to share it real quick, as it ties greatly with the "Green language" Or "The language of the birds". Its supposed to be an enochian angelic language. But it is plain speak and can be understood by anyone. It is eye opening for some.
"We awake each mourning and go off during the weekdays to earn the living at various jobs and undertakings until we come to the weekend. This seems perfectly acceptable to most people, however more people die between 6-9 on a Monday mourning than any other time of the week.
Translation:
A "wake" is a funeral party for the dead.
"Mourning" is the state you're in when you attend a "wake".
You would have to be in a weak daze to "earn" the "living"
"Earns" (URNS) are for the ashes of the dead.
We call our Jobs undertakings
Job itself is a herbrew word for persecuted.
What we get at the end of this perverse bargin with life is the "weekend" (Weak end) of the deal.
As we become progressively weakened. Ourselves.
So our most prevalent greeting to each other is. "HELLO" the reverse of which is "O hell..."
At first I suspected the hands of collusion entangling the language to foster illusion.
I think it quite true, that a cultures theology, has a great deal to do with the words etymology.
How it evolves over time to combine incompatible meanings that may undermine the original thoughts it was meant to define.
I don't think its planned, For the thing that I found is that light concepts can gravitate toward the same sound and vibrate at the rate our thoughts designate. Because words are electromagnetic vibrations whose fine alphabetic tintinnabulations can take on the tint of our true expectations, which they then imprint of our medal of mind causing sounds to adhere, when their of the same kind." - Laurel Airica
Magican: To expand with one last example for Laurel Airicas statement.
I want you to understand something. Are you familiar with the court system? When you are on trial. Being judged by the judge? You are under their stand. As they judge you. Do you understand?
Radio Demon: Will you judge me, If I have understood nothing?
Magican: That is the point.
Radio Demon: No.
Magican: Maybe the audience will UNDERSTAND some of this...
​
I will move on to names.... This excerpt is from the smokeless fire book.
"The essential character of things and of men resides in their names. Therefore to know a name is to be privy to the secret of its owner's being, and master of his fate. The members of many primitive tribes have two names, one for public use, the other jealously concealed, known only to the man who bears it."..." To know the name of a man is to exercise power of him alone; to know the name of a higher, supernatural being is to dominate the entire province over which that being presides. The more such names a magician has garnered, the greater the number of spirits that are subject to his call and command. This simple theory is at the bottom of the magic which operates through the mystical names and words that are believed to control forces which in turn control our world. The spirits guarded their names as jealously as ever did a primitive tribe." -- Joshua Trachtenberg "Jewish Magic and Superstition', 1939 (Smokeless Fire)
While the recent passage shared is true. Names can change. Labels can change. For you anyways. You can call upon anything you want to by “Acting” out. Call it a summon if you will. You will act out a summon. It will serve its purpose to you and for you. You could call out your inner angel, your inner demon, Your inner god, your inner satan. Your inner Jesus. You could call it your inner magican, your inner dad, your inner stoner, your inner little philosopher. Your inner child. Your inner you.
You are all of those things at once. Because you can feel at all angles of those personas. You can call it what ever you want. The more of these names you have. The more power you will have. The more responsibility you will have. The more feeling you will have. Because you will have more words to describe and create those feelings. It is a tool. That you can add to your kit. Your roles can switch at a moments notice and you can summon a new one because you learned of its true name. Once these roles/labels/names have been mastered. You will be able to puppet all others who play those roles. You will know the weakness of that role. The strength of that role. Why that role cannot stand on its own and needs to change. You are the mover of roles. Mover of names, mover of feeling. You are manipulating them to get them to do what you want now.
Radio Demon: That just sounds like multiple personality disorder.
Magican: Do you just stick to one personality? Does it not change as you grow older? Are you the same as when you were a child?
Radio Demon: Well... yes... I have changed since I was a child. I guess its only a disease, when people can't use it to their benefit? But if they do use it to their benefit. Wouldn't that mean they are a sociopath? They are just changing their mask to get what they want...
Magican: Call it what you want.
Radio Demon: If what you say is true.... that would mean our society actively dis courages this. It would effectively make the user of multiple names an outcast. They would actively have to try to hide it, and not let it be known. Or else they risk society deeming them mentally ill, potentially creating rifts for them between their jobs, family, and friends.
Magican: Yes... you would be a risk, for wrong think.
Radio Demon: Madness... How would you combat such a risk?
Magican: Pick your battles. Don't fight every fight.
Radio Demon: So let people run right through me? Accept the shit that comes my way?
Magican: Yes, as long as it doesn't interfere with your intention that you set earlier. Nothing else matters.
Radio Demon: That is very narrow minded.
Magican: All the greats of the world. Sacrifice everything else to be successful in their one true passion. It is the price they pay for greatness.
Radio Demon: Lets move on.
Magican: I have casted a spell of words at you to throw you in illusion. Like a mirror of ones mind. Now that you can see it, now you can dispel it. If your imagination is dimmed or lost. Then you will be unable to imagine a better future for yourself. So try to image these structures as real. These inner structures. These instructions.
If you feel any different than when you started listening to this. Then it was done with words. Just as a movie or a tv show should. Did I move any feeling around casting spells?
All I did was just flop my silver tongue like a warlock in DND. I just did it with sound. Are you easily effected by sound alone? That’s magic. I hope I put you at ease. If I didn’t you might be “Dis” eased. I don’t want you to have some sort of mental illness from this... If you can't use it, then you should lose it. Don't become lost in time.
Radio Demon: Silence! Magican! I will no longer be affected by your illusions of grandeur. I am taking back control of my energy. My patience has waned far enough. Hopefully this was entertaining for the viewers at home. I am bored of this conversation. May your soul burn away in the depths of hell below.
Magican: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! IT BURNSSSS!!!
(Cut to bones song slowly about patience waning, magic in bones)
(Commercial)
Narrator tuning back in.
Demon Radio DJ. WOAAA that was crazyyyy fuckin stupid. My emotions are a bit mixed on that. But thankfully I am able to step back and see that these were all just words. I know for a fact that whole thing was a lie. Hopefully our viewers can understand this with their human brains. No one wants to think like that! Wait…. Is that my own thought? Never mind. Up next. We have funny man. The jester for the courts. The dark trickster himself!

​
Submitted into Reedsy contest 152 in response to prompt: Write about a character whose life changes for the better.
CONTENT WARNING: This story contains a healthy dose of swearing. Some real whoppers too, so I hope you're into that kind of stuff! Also contains: (SPOILER!) An allusion to grisly death. Enjoy!
1
“We have plenty of time.” Connie looked out the passenger's window, as a white whale of a cloud floated lazily across the sunny sky. “It’s our honeymoon, try to relax.”
“Sure we do sugarbride, I know that. We’ve got the rest of our lives!” Bobby tapped his phone screen awake and saw 3:44 P.M. “All I’m saying is if we get in there before 4:00, we can pay lunch price for the buffet, but they’ll bring out all the dinner food!”
Connie stretched her bare feet into the sunny spot on the dashboard. “Do you really want bargain-hunting sirloin steak to be what I remember about our first full day of marriage?”
“Of course not Mrs. Fletcher! But this is Prime Rib we’re talking about. Did you even SEE the sign?” Bobby rolled his eyes in an exaggerated display of offense. “Besides, if the meat you remember about our honeymoon comes from ‘The Blue Barn Buffet’, I’m doing something wrong!” He scrunched his face and grabbed his junk with both hands, jerking his hips.
Connie straightened up and slid her sandals back on. “Sweep me off my feet, loverboy.”
The Blue Barn sat in the corner of a nearly abandoned strip mall, about a mile from the Ohio Turnpike in a long-forgotten steel town. In front of the restaurant, Route 13 spilled north to south, perforated by a burned-out traffic light bouncing on saggy wiring. Sharing the traffic light with 13, and bordering the plaza was Billet Parkway. A shaggy fence of arborvitae separated the lot from traffic. Billet wound westbound, picking up steam as it unfolded into busier neighborhoods mixed with residential and industrial properties. Behind the restaurant sat a big walk-in cooler the size of a handyman’s storage shed, next to a pair of rented garbage dumpsters.
The parking lot was close to empty, besides what were probably employee cars lined up in a row at the front corner of the property. The Fletchers’ honeymoon carriage (more specifically, Bobby’s minivan) was backed into a corner spot, way in the back. There were plenty of spaces right by the front door but after driving all day they welcomed the chance to stretch their legs. Besides, it was their honeymoon! Bobby thought after dinner he might try to suggest they see just how Grand this Caravan really is before they drive the last leg of highway up to Niagara Falls.
Bobby pressed the keyless push-button once, revealing ACCY. on the dash panel. The speakers exploded with sound as the radio caught Allen Collins midway through his ‘Freebird’ guitar solo. Chords screamed through the static of a radio station a few miles too far away.
Bobby played air guitar with his right hand as he ran all the windows closed with the other. Connie sprang forward and gave the radio knob an annoyed smack. The radio’s display screen went blank immediately, but the noise didn’t stop- not all the way. They exchanged a puzzled look for an instant before realizing the noise wasn’t coming from the radio. It was sirens. Not too close, maybe 4 or 5 miles away, but it sounded like there were a lot of them.
“Really, Bob? Why couldn’t we have waited till Pittsburgh to stop? Maybe an Applebee’s? Or a B-Dubs? I’d be happy with a drive-thru sandwich if we got it from someplace that isn’t in an abandoned ghost town.”
Bobby could feel her irritation swelling. “You’re just hungry, honey. We’re perfectly safe. Once our bellies are full of steak and we’re back on the road, you’ll feel better.”
“Are you seriously mansplaining hunger to me?”
“Aw hell, Con, please don’t start that shit.”
“It’s not shit, BOB.”
The sirens droned on. Bobby’s eyes softened for a moment when he saw the hurt in her face. “Aw baby, I’m sorry. I know your feeli-“
He stopped mid-sentence, his attention pulled away. There was something shiny off in the far corner of the shopping plaza’s pock-marked tarmac. Flashcubes of reflected sunlight burst like a golden disco ball from the top of- of what exactly?
Connie squinted “Is that a… bike?” They both stared for a second allowing their eyes (and their minds) time to focus on what they saw.
Bobby’s turn, “Is he- is he naked?”
The sight grew stranger the closer it got. It was a bike. An oldie too, one of those 10-speed jobs with the skinny tires that were popular for racing back in the ’80s. There were a few rose-colored spots of paint left unconsumed by rust, and a “V” shaped notch in the frame between the handlebars and seat. The rider was a pale white glob of a man. Greasy mats of hair were the only thing between his skin and a filth that would probably never wash off. And as for being naked…
“I guess not,” Connie half asked, “if you count the backpack and… helmet?”
A faux gold hard hat, the kind you might see the mayor of a city wearing for some groundbreaking ceremony, bounced and wobbled atop the rider's brain bucket. Each ham of a shoulder wrapped with the camouflage armbands of a weathered backpack.
The couple saw no sign of where the bike seat might actually be underneath all that mess, but, to be fair, they didn’t look for it much.
The gap between them had been halved already, “How is he going so fast?” Bobby wondered. As if on cue they watched as the bike’s front tire slammed into a wide crack in the concrete, nearly sending the whole rig ass over elbows. The cycle rocked side to side violently. The fat man doubled down, standing up to smash the pedals forward beneath his lumbering hocks. He ripped up on the handlebars like an airline pilot staring into the Atlantic, shooting the bike out of the ravine and onto flat pavement. The Grime King regained his balance, though it did cost him his crown. The hard hat tumbled off of his head unnoticed and landed in a dusty pothole.
Picking up even more speed, Ole Grimey looked like he might have one more trick to pull off. He settled messily back onto the seat and let the pedals coast. Sitting bolt upright he let go of the handlebars and wormed his right arm free of the backpack strap. With a thrust of his torso, he flung the sack around his body and caught the left strap as it fell from his shoulder and down his arm. He launched the backpack as gracefully as an Olympic athlete, right through the dead nuts center of the open sliding door on the side of the trash dumpster.
The hollow THWACK! of the bag hitting the back of the steel box was like a starting pistol, sending the wacky racer into a frenzy. He reared his head back like a horse and put his whole body into those pedals.
The Fletchers were frozen in their seats as the rider passed by close enough for them to see clean lines of sweat streaming in rivers down his filthy mass. Grimes flew past the van without giving them a glance. The bike crashed up and over a curb and between two trees onto Billet Parkway, (another landing physics would never be able to explain), and disappeared from sight.
The couple sat still for a moment, Bobby offering a puzzled stare in the direction the Grime King vanished. It was Connie that broke the silence. “Who?... I mean what,... Bobby, what the hell!”
Bobby's eyes met his mate’s briefly and then narrowed, dulling as he turned his gaze towards the dumpster.
“Bobby, what the hell was that?”
Bobby answered with his own question. “What do you think is in that backpack?”
“What? No… Please, honey. What if it’s drugs?” Connie’s voice broke. “What if it’s a bomb?”
Bobby cracked his door open to the soft dinging alert of the van reminding him the ignition was still part way on. He pushed his door full open and slid one foot out to rest on the blacktop. Connie was on the brink of full-blown panic, but she chose anger instead.
“GODDAMMIT BOB STOP!” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and looked at her husband. “We need to leave. We need to call the police and tell them we saw a friggin’ shaved bear doing some shady shit on a bicycle. OK? Please drive me away from here, Bobby.” She was sobbing. Bobby took a deep breath and let a little of his weight back onto the seat. He opened the storage compartment between them, fished out a travel package of tissues, and pulled one free. Bobby took his time tenderly wiping his young wife’s tears, and then stepped out onto the pavement and closed the door behind him.
2
Joseph coughed hot smoke from a joint that should have been roached three hits ago, out the window of his dusty old ford. He turned the volume down on some ancient rock screaming guitar shit his old man would’ve enjoyed as the radio screen read 2:44 pm.
“Well…” he sighed “if this piece of crap makes it till November, at least the clock will be right again.”
16 minutes until he had to punch in and start scrubbing pots and pans. What a fucking life! Why should he have to drive this crap car to this crap job? He gets crap hours, crap pay, and after all that does he get any appreciation? Nope. More crap. He should probably consider himself lucky he was able to take the day off yesterday to marry Kourtney, but all he could give her was a crap wedding at the county seat and a crap dinner at The Cracker Barrel.
Kourtney deserved more, so much more! So did Joseph for that matter. He’s smart, hard-working… If he’d been born somewhere normal instead of this empty shit town, he’d probably be on top! Even now he felt like all he needed was one lucky break to make everything better. One little boost could get him and his new bride out of the trailer park and living like other people, real people. “Those people,” he breathed, as he looked at the couple parked in that minivan with 'Just Married!' scrawled across the side window in shoe polish.
If Joseph and Kourtney had it made like those folks, they sure as hell wouldn’t be stopping at the ‘Blue BARF Buffet’. Vegas baby! That’s where they’d go. The place where cash equals class! Now those Vegas buffets are worth a honeymoon trip. Kourtney deserves Vegas! They both do!
Joseph was snapped out of his daydream by a hollow metallic bang. He looked up just in time to see a naked dopesick gargantuan on an ancient rusty bike fly out from behind the dumpster and across the lot. “This fuckin’ town” Joe chuckled. “Bet them hoity-toity honeymooners weren’t expecting a show! Wooo! Shake it for ‘em Jelly-George!”
He watched with mild amusement as the rider passed close enough in front of the van for the couple to smell him and then blasted through the bushes, disappearing onto Billet Parkway.
Joe’s amusement turned to curiosity as he spied on the unsuspecting pair in the van. Obviously, they didn’t see the same humor he did in the makeshift burlesque performance. They appeared to be in a pretty heated argument. The man seemed like he wanted to get out but wouldn’t fully commit. Just as it seemed like The Mrs. had won and they were going to stay put, the driver got out onto the pavement and closed his door. This must have really pissed his old lady off because the next thing Joe knew she was screaming out the window like she was demon-possessed.
“GET BACK HERE!… I’M YOUR WIFE YOU MOTHER FUCKING COCKSUCKER! COME BACK TO ME RIGHT NOW!”
The man seemed not to hear her, and finally, she got out too. Now Joseph was interested enough for a closer look. He creaked out of the rusty old door as quietly as possible and left it hanging a few inches from closed. He slipped between the arborvitae at the edge of the lot, and down Billet Parkway, where he re-emerged next to the minivan in the back corner.
Joe could see the woman closing in on the trash dumpster, but now he didn’t know where the man went. She was shaking and crying when she made it to the front of the can and stopped.
Joseph crept around the back of the van to the driver's side, where the front door stood open. When he looked back toward the restaurant he could see the lady standing outside the open door of the trash bin as the man popped his head out from inside. She was yelling something Joe couldn’t make out, but she stopped out of nowhere and took a surprised step backward. The Mister leaned a little farther out of the dumpster now and he was holding something.
Joe rubbed his face as the man unzipped the object, (a backpack!) and held it open between them. The lady forgot all about being sad when she reached both hands into the bag and pulled them out clenched full…
3
“…OF CASH?!?”
“Who gives a shit WHY, Connie? Just take it and let me get outta this fuckin’ thing!”
Bobby shoved the backpack into Connie’s midsection, pushing her back out of the way. He clambered out of the steel cube head first and somersaulted to the asphalt.
He quickly rose, ignoring the cold slop that ran down his leg. Connie let out a small yelp as her groom wrapped his fingers around her bicep and squeezed, pulling her around the back of the hopper, out of the sight line of the building.
“It’s all hundreds! Holy shit! there’s gotta be 50K in there… Probably more!”
Connie gauged the wild look in her husband's eye. “We can’t just keep it, Bobby. We have to call someone. What about those sirens? What about that …man… who threw it here? What if he comes back?”
“Connie, look at me. I need you to listen to me closely. Honey, this is meant to be! We’re one day into starting our life together. We’re 1000 miles from home. We’re standing behind an empty restaurant in an empty town with a bag full of cash, and our van is right there. They both allowed their gaze to follow Bobby’s pointer finger to their vehicle parked not 30 yards away.
For a quick instant, neither one could put a finger on what was out of place, until it suddenly clicked.
“Bob! Someone’s in our van!”
“What the fuck? HEY, YOU SON OF A BITCH! HEY GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE!”
Connie held the backpack shakily against her chest as she pulled herself into her husband’s embrace.
“I’m calling the cops ass-hole! You can’t just steal our fucking car, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
Wide-eyed, Bobby pulled Connie to his side even harder. The tires lurched forward with a chirp and a puff of smoke as the tread bit into the dusty blacktop.
By the time they realized the stranger had no interest in stealing their car it was too late. They stood frozen like petrified trees while their terrified voices joined together, much the same as their young lives had joined just yesterday.
“Noooooooooooooo!!!”
4
Sunlight poured through the open window and bounced playfully off of a wet plate before dancing around the single-wide’s meager kitchen. Kourtney’s face, far too tired for her young age, shone with a threadbare beauty that was only earned through a lifetime of indigence.
She blew her bangs out of her eyes and dried the plate on a faded dish towel. She had made peace long ago with her lot in life, but she couldn’t help feeling that twang of wanting for more. What kind of honeymoon was this?
Kourtney pulled out a kitchen chair and a cigarette and sat down for a rest. She unlocked her phone (3:54 pm) and was about to check her Facebook when the device lit up, and a moment later her face.
“Joseph! Hey baby! Everything ok? You should be starting work.”
“Hey, Kourt! Everything’s great honey!” She heard a confidence (maybe even a smile?) in his voice that had been missing for too long.
“I owe you a proper honeymoon sweet-tea and it’s time for me to pay up!”
Kourtney giggled “that sounds great but you’re at work and we’ve got rent to pay. Now, quit being silly and tell me what’s going on!”
“What’s going on is Vegas baby… that’s all you need to know! Just grab what you can’t live without and meet me out front in ten… It’s finally our turn to win.”

prev next
The Space Station of Nirv is a place of royalty, a hull made entirely in gold alloy to display the vast wealth of the Empire and its divine ruler. But even gold, for all its prestige, rusts in the passage of time.
The Station has filled to the brim with royalty and wealthy commoners alike. A gathering that can dictate a ruling even without the Emperor's command. A court. Which is currently in an uproar. possession of a planetary cannon took the effort of the entire galaxy. To say that something in the void has one is truly terrifying.
The old Emperor clad in golden garb raises his heavy hands. silencing the crowd.

"Speak, Commander Ajashi" although shaky, his voice has the essence of divine authority.
"I know that this is an alarming discovery but we must face the fact. a new civilization with mythical military might has been discovered. This isn't the time to prepare for another war." Ajashi plead.
"Little brother, No!" Object by Commander Victor, although in their 20's, he likes to remind Ajashi who is the eldest.
"We must act aggressively! These 'vagrants' has fired a weapon of mass destruction on our people So we must act accordingly! not retaliating is nothing less but an insult to the emperor and his people!" The crowd agreed.

Not wanting to waste a moment in fear of losing the crowd, Ajashi retorted back.

"The reports clearly show that no merchant was killed nor harmed and the only casualties they've dealt are lowly criminals! We must look at this situation as an act of goodwill."
"Can we really risk another diplomatic disaster!? One misguided race is bad enough but one with a planetary cannon? we must act fast to protect ourselves!" Victor rebutted.

The two brothers argued and insulted each other, one can wonder if they are brothers at all.
The court again devolved into shouting. The empire we're already fighting a losing front from the Avesan and mass public unrest of the prolonged war. Then an unknown nation suddenly appeared in the void, it was morbid to say that all of them hoped that a void creature was the problem instead. Again the Emperor raises his heavy hands.

"Commander Ajashi, are you certain that we can build diplomatic relations with the new nation?"
"We must cling on to hope" Ajashi admits, eyes looking directly at the emperor. The answer wasn't reassuring but he needs to hear it.
"Preposterous! Relying on hope had put us where we at in the first place" Victor shouted, inciting the crowd to follow suit.

Amidst the shouting. The Emperor remained silent. reminiscing on a distant memory.
As he looks to his right, lays an empty throne decorated with flowers and gems, a reminder of who used to sit beside him. The emperor whispers to himself as if speaking for someone else.

"Maybe at the darkest of hours we shouldn't scream and flail our claws around. We should keep our heads straight and walk towards the light"

She always hated the throne it always pull a fur everytime she stands up. He then looks forward, facing Ajashi. Although just a monitor, he can clearly see Ajashi. Fur as white as snow like his mother, strong and caring, unlike his father.
He has grown up without him. Maybe It is for the best, Eve has raised him well. Unlike Victor who was raised with grand delusions of the divine ruling.
He thinks he is getting old to be this senile. But getting old is no excuse to forget the empire's purpose.
'Unite the galaxy'
Maybe it's time to try a different route. Proudly raising his hands, as if the weight of his responsibility has suddenly disappeared. he commanded:

"Do as you see fit, Commander Ajashi."

The Crowd expecting the Emperor to side with his eldest son was dumbfounded. But the court isn't so powerless to just stand and do nothing. The Emperor knew that, he is just glad to know that the future of the empire is in good hands.
The Commander of the Fleet Queen Eve's revenge, Prince Ajashi.
Scout report:

"OH F! OH F! WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO CAPTAIN!?"
"I DON'T KNOW! PRESIDENT CELES IS GOING TO EJECT OUR ASSES IF SHE FINDS OUT" sighs "first contact and we fired an auto-cannon... ok ok we're technically not in the wrong right? like we didn't know, right? IF they were a bunch of whales then we all have died, right??"
"But they all look adorable! Captain, one of them has a cool eye patch! oh god, his guts ar-"

*audible barfing

"STOP REMINDING ME!"

. . .

"uuuhhh Captain?"
"WHAT IS IT NOW!?"
"they're following us."
Captain Calcy: "SON OF A --

report end . . .
prev next
And as always corrections are welcomed

I might have to barf. This rolley coaster is much wow! Never surrender fellow doge’s ride the whale wave. Let them know we hold strong! Diamond hands for life!

Part 1 Part 2
Context: You’re returning back to the small town you grew up in where a lot of old memories live, some good and some bad. Something drew you back, and you found yourself reunited with a long-lost friend...or enemy. After you two discovered the tag you made at the skatepark the night you lost one another, you agreed to have dinner with him to see what else has changed, and though dinner seemed to go well, there are still old wounds ready to rear their ugly heads.
Setting: Home / Skate Park
Tags: M4A, Enemies to Lovers?, Confession, Old Wounds, Skateboarder Speaker, Drama, Kisses, TW: Implied Alcoholism/Abuse
Usage: You may tweak or record this script. Please credit me if you use this script in any of your projects. If you would like to use this script for a paywalled recording please DM me first. Thank you :3
***
[You are ready to head to bed in your old room after your dinner date when your phone buzzes. It’s him, still named “Dumbass” in your contacts list]
“H-Heeeyyy yoooouu…Yeah haha, it’s me. Whatcha up to?”
[Pause]
“Hehe, yeah, it is late…Couldn’t sleep, so I took the old board out. You should grab your board and-”
[Pause]
“Huh? Yeah, I’m a lil tipsy, why?”
[Pause]
“...I did tell you I quit drinking, didn’t I…Aw fuck, I…N-No, I did quit! I promise you, I did! I just, I don’t know, I tried to lie down and, and my chest just seized up. I…I had to do something…Was out of weed, and the dispensary is closed…I-I’m sor-”
[You hear him cry out and then a loud crash]
“Aghh…fuck, Karma’s really not patient…Gods, OK, maybe I should’ve worn the helmet…”
[Pause]
“Y-Yeah, I’m OK, I think. I’m fine.”
[Pause?]
[His voice breaks and he starts sobbing]
“I-I’m not OK! I’m not…F-Fuck, I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have called, I shouldn’t…I-”.
[The call ends]
[Time / Scene transition to the skate park. You find him on his back, still sobbing]
“O-Oh…hey you. Snff…Eheh, yeah, you wore your helmet. Always were the brains between the two of us…Fuck, man, I’m sorry…You should go home and get some rest. I can get myself home…”
[Pause]
“Eyup, I’m standing…Rrgh! Ahh…Yep, this is definitely standing. Mmhm. And hey, that is a really, really nice leaf, too!”
[Pause]
“...talk to you? A-About what, man?”
[Pause]
[He stands in the moonlight, hands balanced on either shoulder as he looks into your eyes]
“...can we…skate? It’ll…it helps me think…”
[The two of you skate idly, largely holding hands but occasionally drifting apart]
“...when I said I loved you back then…I know you thought I didn’t mean it. Can’t blame you. I was a mixed drink of himbo idiot and angry stoner. The perfect teen boy, right? Hehe…enh…I never told you what my parents did to me at home, but you knew…you never said it…but you always had a second lunch for me, said you’d always listen…When I lost you, I-I…t-hey had to put me in the hospital for a while, man…”
[Pause]
“...I did try. Multiple times…At least some good came of it. Me acting out like that managed to get the police involved, finally. I got custody of Lil Bit. She wants to see you again, by the way! S-She…she’s grown up a lot…Still the same annoying little sister energy, though…”
[Pause]
“Don’t…don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything…I just…I want you to know that I’ve worked so hard to be better, and…and I h-hope me slippin’ up like t-this d-doesn’t m-ea-mean…oh god!”
[He pulls you against him tightly, sobbing]
“Don’t go again…please…Please, I don’t…I can’t again…I know you don’t think I loved you, love you, even, but-!”
[You hug him back tightly]
[He whimpers against your shoulder. Both of you sob together in the heady calm around you]
[Pause]
“...I know it’s dumb…I know we’re trying to take things slow, if…we’re even taking things in the first place, but…I want to kiss you so badly. It’d be like an explosion in slow motion, little flecks of color splashing across your lips and eyes, surreal and prismatic…A-And you still have a bit of your face mask clinging riiiight here, hehe. There…got it.”
[Pause]
“It’s not cause I’m drunk…I promise you, it’s not…Look…We’re right back at the butterfly tag, see? We keep, ha…we keep coming back here where it all broke…But that wasn’t the only thing…Do you remember that concert they did in front of the library? Yeah…We snuck in and it was so hot inside…We got the biggest sodas I think I’ve ever seen, got high, and…we kissed…”
[Pause]
“No, no, we both consented to certain things while we were sober and had a safe word. You do remember? OK, good…I had my head in your lap and…you kept leaning down, hair falling over my view so all I could see was…you…and kissing me so sweetly…Do you, pfff, do you remember what broke it up?”
[Pause]
“Right, so, the sodas - it was still ballbusting hot in the area, and making out and being horny idiots wasn’t helping with that. And, again, we were high. You pitched the idea of making out with some of the ice from the sodas in our mouths. It was…a-ahem…definitely working magic until you fucking choked on yours…”
[Pause]
“Ow! Heeeeyy…Look, the point is…I want to know how you feel about that day? About the idea of kissing me? That day, for me, it…it’s saved my life so much just by existing…What do you…think…? Mmch…? Mmh…”
[The two of you kiss under a set of dancing moths beneath the park lights]
“Mmmmh…a wuv u babee…”
[Pause?]
“Wuh? Why not your lips on mine now please? Ohh, you’re asking what I just said. Right, right, right…mmh…”
[He kisses you again]
[Pause]
“Right, right, right, right, yes yes yes! What I said! What. I. Said. Yesssss…The thing I uttered previously, the thing in question that was uttered under my breath during a heated moment, the very novella of my-” [Pause]
“I said I love you!”
[Both of you freeze, panting from the long makeout session]
“I know…I know I was toxic, and I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know how to…to be what you needed instead of what you wanted, at the time…and I’m still not exactly doing great…Not toxic but…I’ve got radiation burns if that makes sense? Oh, of course it doesn’t. Nothing that comes out of this dumb mouth of mine…”
[Pause]
“...Look, I…I know what I am. I’m the small town crush that gives you that kind of bittersweet nostalgia. You think about it for maybe ten minutes, wondering what if, and then the realization that you’d have been tied down to some loser hits and you move on…”
[Pause]
“I’m…not that, to you?”
[Pause]
[He laughs]
“Oh, my abs are getting me some points, huh? And how I smile a little crooked? Annnnd how I always have to be chewing on a toothpick? Hehe…Well. If you still think I’m hot, I’ll count it as a victory…”
[Pause]
“Proud of me, huh? …Thanks, man. With that in mind…I’m about to do something really stupid…”
[Pause]
“No, not barf, geeze. It was some beer, and I’m not a lightweight, unlike some - ow! OK, OK…”
[Pause]
[He presses you gently against the wall that holds the butterfly tag]
“Yep…I’m gonna pin you right here and kiss you for as long as I can get away with it, right in front of this tag. Tell me to stop, right now…”
[Pause]
[He kisses you again, the low ambiance of passing traffic in the distance almost sounding like a whale song]
[He pulls away after a moment, breath a bit muddled]
“Hey, um…do you wanna come back to my place…?”
[Do you?]
[End]