WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

Glass Weeds Sometimes I feel like a writer. Like that was really “it” for me but I got blocked along the way. 20 years ago. 13? Maybe that was when the thought river was dammed up. That’s definitely when the self doubt and esteem issues arose. I know I could(can?) write. I learned the structure of an academic essay (intro, thesis, body, conclusion) and it worked for me, as bland as I found the rules, it served me at that time. I had a “voice” and I was told that by teachers when I was a young child and even when I was an older teen. “I can hear your voice in your writing.” Was that voice me? My “personality”? My “person”? My “self”? “Myself”. “Me”? I have joked for years now about how I’ve had an “x-years writer’s block! Lol—I swear I am a good writer” or communicator, or person even. I swear. I’m just “blocked”. I’m clogged up. I can’t get it out.
Now I’m 33 and just had an “I think I want to end this marriage!” outburst with my husband. It’s the time of the year where I’m lucky to have a constant, stimulating, and distracting, physical outlet in my garden.
My favorite task: weeding the garden. It’s a memorable analogy from AA’s “24 Hours” meditation books. Or maybe it’s from “Daily Reflections”. Either way it’s that sobriety “give it up” stuff.
Weed your emotional garden. Tear that resentful shit out. Plant the good seeds and rip out the bad ones.
I’m a tactical gardener. And learner. And experiencer. And some real gardeners would probably laugh at the way I put on my gloves and tear each and every individual weed by the root. Every. Tiny. Clover. Every single root. All the way. I like to get to the root or it just comes back.
I pull and pull and in this particular garden something else comes with the roots. Broken glass. An inexplicable amount of shards of all sizes. And when I thought I unearthed them all, more is pushed up to the surface weeks later.
This garden is 5 years in (my) making now. I remember in the beginning of my spring time digs, it was a cute, not so disturbing wonder “oh my! Look! There’s a shard of glass. I wonder where it came from? Let’s just get it out now.”
Then in the subsequent years, it became part of the process of the till. Turn the soil, pull out the few glass pieces. Wipe your hands. Have a good summer!”
This year it hit me harder than most. I’m hurting more than before. I’m drawing near the end of my capacity to feel blocked. And I am turning to the soil to dig dig dig with my bare hands and unearth whatever is hiding just beneath the surface.
Because it always is just beneath. My first real soil (lol that autocorrected to “soul”) search this spring was in the perennial bed and an inexcusable amount of glass was right there on the surface. Different colors too.
I always thought I was digging up the soul soil of the original home owner. Whom I at this point assumed was a passionate, garden loving, angry alcoholic. Why would there be so much broken glass in a garden?
But more importantly why does it keep resurfacing, even days, after I thought I’d found the last angry, imposing, threatening shard.
Today in my weeding frenzy which is also a thought frenzy, the biggest pieces I’ve found this year came to me. Green, clear, brown. I used to feel upset by them. Deep concern for the safety of my daughter, who now knows is not allowed to be barefoot in this particular garden. You must watch your step. But as I found each piece of angry glass, I came to a conclusion, or realization, of sorts.
I have a mind garden and I plant beautiful seeds and even plant big, fruitful ideas, but the cost of that is unearthing years of untold, unrecognized, unhonored, very very broken glass. Of all different sizes and colors and degrees of danger. But they are there. They’ve been there for years. Before I lived here. They’re always there. Especially when I thought that I got rid of them all.
That’s when they choose to remind me and scream: “I AM STILL HERE!!!!!!”
The first dig this spring brought a different narrative to the “angry alcoholic” smashing beer bottles. Because I dug up something different, an angled glass rod. Also, a chunk of ceramic,white, glazed, with the classic blue painted inscriptions. China-? Something other than beer bottles?
I used to throw these glass pieces away as fast as I found them, but now I have decided to collect them, as artifacts, of my inherited, 45yr old garden.
I’m learning to not be so angry and jaded toward the signs sent to me regularly. Part of my recovery from whatever this damaged, shattered glass soul, that I guess I’m realizing I am, is to embrace these small angry shards and give them the acknowledgment they truly deserve. I buried them, dug them up and tossed them, but more came.
I don’t even want to eradicate them anymore. I just want to keep collecting them as I find them for the bigger art piece to come. It will be a beautiful mosaic.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

My Dad's grandma passed away two years ago. My uncle is the executor of the estate. Per the will, my grandparents land is to be divided among their children equally. My uncle sat on the property for two years before finally deciding to put the home up for auction. Both my Dad and his siblings objected to an auction but my uncle blitzed through the process and two weeks after my Dad received a letter of his intentions in the mail, the land was sold.
My grandparents owned a large farm that's no longer in operation but still has the barns and whatnot, the land is about 120 acres, I believe. After about $200,000 in taxes my dad and his siblings got about $175k each, I believe he said the total sale was something like $750,000.
Immediately my Dad was suspicious. He felt the estate sold well below it's value but my uncle has claimed to "wash his hands with this mess" and refuses to discuss it or acknowledge anyone in the family. My Dad received his notice of intention to sell in late March. The auction happened in early-mid April, we found out today that the land was then resold in less than a month for just under $1.8m.
Because of my uncle's reaction the immediate flip of the land for more than double what it went for at auction my Dad is incredibly suspicious. He's reached out a realtor friend who said there's really not much to dig into outside of public records.
My Dad is trying to find out what, if anything, he can do to find out if my uncle received a kickback to undersell the property at auction, and what sort of responsibility my uncle had to ensure that the land sold for fair value.

https://chatgpt.com/share/fcf5c601-c338-4847-911d-990b7a1ada97

lassi

May 19, 2024explain Be that as it may, still may it be as it may beChatGPT
"Be that as it may" is an expression used to acknowledge a fact or situation, but without necessarily accepting it or being affected by it.
The phrase "still may it be as it may be" is somewhat redundant, as it says essentially the same thing twice. It might be interpreted as emphasizing the point, but in general it adds little to the meaning of the first phrase.
i just drank my most favourite, delicious, soul soothing drink. it replaced my frown on my face with a smile of felicity and hope. My Writing skills are not so good. Can you write me some sentences how can i express what i feel. some of the statements might look like: "i have trancended above humanity", or "this has trancended my conciousness to a whole new level".
ChatGPT
Sure! Here are a few sentences you can use to express your feelings:

1. "This drink has elevated me to a state of pure bliss."
2. "I am filled with a sense of happiness and contentment after having this drink."
3. "This drink has transported me to a world of euphoria."
4. "I am in a state of grace and happiness, thanks to this soul-soothing drink."
5. "This drink has given me a new perspective on life and filled me with hope."

good. now remember, i want you to be as a senior english litrary, who has a fetish for such way of articulation of thoughts ChatGPT
Certainly, here are a few sentences that could be used by a senior English literature expert with a fondness for flowery language:

1. "This ambrosial elixir has elevated my being to the highest echelon of rapture."
2. "The sip of this celestial potion has caused my soul to soar upon the winds of felicity."
3. "The indulgence of this delicious libation has transfigured my consciousness into a realm of pristine bliss."
4. "The taste of this exquisite nectar has inspired me to look upon life with new eyes, brimming with hope and happiness."
5. "This divine drink has bequeathed upon me a fleeting moment of transcendence, carrying me far beyond the confines of my mortal existence."

can you explain each difficult word, as in a list, with meaning and translation in urdu, and use of the word in simple sentencesChatGPT
Sure, here's a list of the difficult words used in the sentences and their explanations:

1. Ambrosial: adj. having a delicious fragrance or taste; very pleasing to the senses. Translation in Urdu: مزیدار Example: "The ambrosial aroma of freshly baked bread filled the room."
2. Elixir: n. a magical or medicinal potion. Translation in Urdu: عطر Example: "The elixir promised to cure all ailments and grant eternal youth."
3. Echelon: n. a level or rank in an organization or society. Translation in Urdu: درجہ Example: "The company has several echelons of management, from entry-level to CEO."
4. Rapture: n. a feeling of intense pleasure or joy. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "She was in a state of rapture after receiving the good news."
5. Soar: v. to rise or fly high into the air. Translation in Urdu: اوپر ہو جانا Example: "The bird soared into the sky, riding the thermals."
6. Felicity: n. a state of well-being characterized by happiness and contentment. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "His newfound felicity was evident in his broad smile and contented demeanor."
7. Transfigure: v. to change in appearance or form, especially in a supernatural way. Translation in Urdu: تبدیل کر دینا Example: "The prince was transfigured into a beast as a result of the curse."
8. Nectar: n. a sweet liquid produced by flowers to attract pollinators, or a drink with a sweet taste. Translation in Urdu: نیکار Example: "The nectar of the flowers was a delight to the bees."
9. Indulgence: n. the act of allowing oneself to enjoy the pleasure of something, especially something considered to be bad or wrong. Translation in Urdu: لذت بخشی Example: "He allowed himself a small indulgence of chocolate after a long day."
10. Bequeathed: v. to pass down or leave something to someone through a will or as an inheritance. Translation in Urdu: ارادہ کر دینا Example: "The antique vase was bequeathed to her by her grandmother."

continueChatGPT

1. Transcendence: n. the state or quality of being beyond normal limits; surpassing or exceeding. Translation in Urdu: تجاوز Example: "The singer's voice had a transcendent quality that left the audience in awe."
2. Celestial: adj. of or relating to heaven or the heavens; divine. Translation in Urdu: آسمانی Example: "The celestial beings watched over the mortal world from above."
3. Potion: n. a magical or medicinal drink. Translation in Urdu: پوشیدہ شراب Example: "The wizard brewed a potion to cure the prince's illness."
4. Confines: n. a limit or boundary that restricts or confines something. Translation in Urdu: حدود Example: "The prisoner was confined to his cell for the duration of his sentence."
5. Mortal: adj. relating to a human being who is subject to death. Translation in Urdu: موتی Example: "As a mortal, his life was finite and fleeting."

continueChatGPT

1. Awe: n. a feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Translation in Urdu: عجب Example: "The awe-inspiring view of the Grand Canyon left him speechless."
2. Euphoria: n. a feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Translation in Urdu: خوشبوداری Example: "The victory parade filled the city with a sense of euphoria."
3. Enamored: adj. feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Translation in Urdu: عاشق Example: "She was enamored with the handsome prince from the moment she saw him."
4. Sumptuous: adj. rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Translation in Urdu: خوشبودار Example: "The sumptuous feast was fit for royalty."
5. Soothing: adj. calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Translation in Urdu: سکون دینے والا Example: "The soothing sound of the ocean waves helped her fall asleep."

what would be adverb of Trancendence? i mean, i want to call this drink as "The Trancendent Drink" would that be ok?ChatGPT
The adverb form of "transcendent" is "transcendently." So, "The Trancendent Drink" would be grammatically correct, but it may be more commonly expressed as "The Transcendently Delicious Drink" or "The Drink That Transcends."
"The Drink That Transcends", give me more words or phrases for thisChatGPT
Here are a few more options:

1. The Elixir of Transcendence
2. The Beverage Beyond Boundaries
3. The Nectar of Elevation
4. The Sip of Sublimity
5. The Potion of Perfection
6. The Draught of Delight
7. The Tonic of Tranquility
8. The Cup of Contentment
9. The Ambrosia of Bliss
10. The Concoction of Joy.

10 words for 'to express your ideas clearly' that starts with 'e'ChatGPT
Here are ten words starting with the letter "e" that relate to expressing your ideas clearly:

1. Eloquent: using language effectively and persuasively.
2. Explicit: stated clearly and in detail.
3. Engaging: capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader.
4. Educative: providing knowledge or instruction.
5. Entertaining: providing enjoyment or amusement.
6. Evocative: stirring up strong emotions or memories.
7. Expressive: conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures.
8. Elaborate: detailed and complex in design or construction.
9. Effusive: expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner.
10. Emphatic: spoken or written with emphasis or confidence.

above 3 or 4 chats, in which you wrote 20 word's meaning. i want you to give the same result, but in code blocks. i want to copy it.ChatGPT
Certainly! Here's the information from the previous chats, with each word and definition presented in a code block for easier copying:

vbnetCopy code Word: Transcendent Definition: Going beyond ordinary limits; surpassing. Word: Felicity Definition: A state of happiness, especially in regards to a content and fulfilling life. Word: Euphoria Definition: A feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Word: Enamored Definition: Feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Word: Sumptuous Definition: Rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Word: Soothing Definition: Calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Word: Awe Definition: A feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Word: Eloquent Definition: Using language effectively and persuasively. Word: Explicit Definition: Stated clearly and in detail. Word: Engaging Definition: Capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader. Word: Educative Definition: Providing knowledge or instruction. Word: Entertaining Definition: Providing enjoyment or amusement. Word: Evocative Definition: Stirring up strong emotions or memories. Word: Expressive Definition: Conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures. Word: Elaborate Definition: Detailed and complex in design or construction. Word: Effusive Definition: Expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner. Word: Emphatic Definition: Spoken or written with emphasis or confidence. 

but you should have written the word number also, i would like to know which word is the 10th and 12th and so on. Also give urdu meaning of each wordChatGPT
Certainly! Here's the information with the word number, definition, and translation in Urdu for each word:

yamlCopy code Word #1: Transcendent Definition: Going beyond ordinary limits; surpassing. Urdu Translation: تجاوز پذیر Word #2: Felicity Definition: A state of happiness, especially in regards to a content and fulfilling life. Urdu Translation: خوشبختی Word #3: Euphoria Definition: A feeling of intense happiness or well-being. Urdu Translation: بے پرواستی Word #4: Enamored Definition: Feeling a strong or passionate liking for someone or something. Urdu Translation: عاشق Word #5: Sumptuous Definition: Rich and luxurious in appearance, quality, or style. Urdu Translation: شاندار Word #6: Soothing Definition: Calming and comforting to the senses or emotions. Urdu Translation: آرام دهندہ Word #7: Awe Definition: A feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear in response to something grand or powerful. Urdu Translation: عجب Word #8: Eloquent Definition: Using language effectively and persuasively. Urdu Translation: بلند زبان Word #9: Explicit Definition: Stated clearly and in detail. Urdu Translation: واضح Word #10: Engaging Definition: Capturing the interest and attention of the listener or reader. Urdu Translation: بخشش دار Word #11: Educative Definition: Providing knowledge or instruction. Urdu Translation: تعلیم دہندہ Word #12: Entertaining Definition: Providing enjoyment or amusement. Urdu Translation: خوش گذرا Word #13: Evocative Definition: Stirring up strong emotions or memories. Urdu Translation: بے حد جذبات دار Word #14: Expressive Definition: Conveying meaning or feeling through language or gestures. Urdu Translation: بےشمار Word #15: Elaborate Definition: Detailed and complex in design or construction. Urdu Translation: تشریح دار Word #16: Effusive Definition: Expressing feelings or opinions in an unrestrained or overflowing manner. Urdu Translation: بے حد بے قاعدگی سے Word #17: Emphatic Definition: Spoken or written with emphasis or confidence. Urdu Translation: با توجہ 

continueChatGPT
Certainly! Here are the remaining words:

yamlCopy code Word #18: Enraptured Definition: Filled with delight or wonder. Urdu Translation: خوشبخت Word #19: Enthralled Definition: Fascinated and captivated by something. Urdu Translation: عاشق Word #20: Ecstatic Definition: Overwhelmingly joyful or happy. Urdu Translation: بے خود مبتلا 

I wish I could be happy like that then, always. ChatGPT
It's natural to wish for lasting happiness. While we can't always control our circumstances, focusing on gratitude, cultivating positive relationships, and engaging in activities that bring joy can contribute to a more enduring sense of happiness.
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Jumādā I, 22 AH / 25th April, 643 CE.
Features
It has Arabic and Greek text. The place of discovery of this document is probably Egypt.
Contents
The translation of the document is given below. The Arabic part is in italics:
Recto
God! In the name of God! I, Emir ʿAbdallāh, to you, Christophoros and Theodorakios, Intendants of Herakleopolis! For the maintenance of the Sarasins who are with me, I took from you at Heracleopolis 65 sheep, I repeat: sixty-five and no more, and as an acknowledgement of this fact, we have made the present confirmation. In the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful! This is what have taken ʿAbdallāh, Written by me, Jean, notary and deacon. On the 30th of the month of Pharmouthi of the 1st indiction. Son of Jabir, and his companions-in-arms, as of slaughter sheep at Heracleopolis. We have taken from a representative of Theodorakios, second son of Apa Kyros, and from a substitute of Christophoros, eldest son of Apa Kyros, fifty sheep as of slaughter sheep and fifteen other sheep. He gave them, for slaughter, for the crew of his vessels, as well as his cavalry and his breastplated infantry in the month of Jumādā the first in the year twenty-two. Written by Ibn Ḥadīd. Verso
Document concerning the delivery of sheep to the Magarites and other people who arrived, as a down-payment of the taxes of the 1st indiction.
Comments
‘Emir ʿAbdallāh’ here is none other than ʿAbdullāh b. Jābir, who was commander of the expeditionary corps to Upper Egypt in 641-643 CE. In this papyrus, he gives a receipt for 65 sheep for provision of his troops consisting of crew, cavalry and heavily armed soldiers, in Jumādā I, 22 AH (25th April 643 CE). The Muslim forces were well-equipped; heavily armed soldiers and cavalry were accompanied by ships to facilitate strategic movement of troops. This document is of interest as it concerns an important phase of hard struggle against the Byzantine forces resisting fiercely the Arab attack. ʿAbdullāh b. Jābir is also mentioned in two other papyri, viz., PERF 555 and PERF 557.
The interesting part of this document is the use of Magarites that is written in Greek and is identified as mujahirūn. This manuscript shows extensive dotting of Arabic script. Diacritical dots on the letters ج، خ، ذ، ز، ش and ن are clearly visible.
One will notice the Christian iconography in the text in the form of the sign of the cross. This can also be found on several other early ‘official’ papyri texts issued by early Muslim military commanders, such as PERF 556 and Pap. BM 1079. Written in Greek, this text would have been penned by a Christian scribe, so it is reasonable to assume he was simply following usual scribal practice by punctuating the text with the sign of the cross, bearing in mind the recipient of the letter would also have been Christian. It was also a way for the scribe to reassert his faith given the religious tenets of the conquering army. One will note the Arabic part of the text which was written most likely by a Muslim is not punctuated by the sign of the cross.
This papyrus is a part of the Archduke Rainer Collection (usually abbreviated as PERF). It is one of the earliest Arabic papyri; the other one being P. Berol. 15002. Other papyri from 22 AH / 643 CE are PERF 555, PERF 556, PERF 557 and P. Berol. 15002.
Location
The Austrian National Museum, Vienna.
Acknowledgement
We are grateful to the Austrian National Museum, Vienna, for originally providing us the photo of the papyrus.
Bookmark and Share
References
[1] A. Grohmann, "Aperçu De Papyrologie Arabe", Études De Papyrologie, 1932, Volume 1, pp. 40-43.
[2] A. Grohmann, From The World Of Arabic Papyri, 1952, Al-Maaref Press: Cairo (Egypt), pp. 113-115.
[3] A. Grohmann, I Arabische Chronologie. II Arabische Papyruskunde, 1966, Handbuch Der Orientalistik, E. J. Brill: Leiden/Köln, Plate II:1.
The images above are reproduced from the stated sources under the provisions of the copyright law. This allows for the reproduction of portions of copyrighted material for non-commercial, educational purposes.
With the exception for those images which have passed into the public domain, the use of these images for commercial purposes is expressly prohibited without the consent of the copyright holder.

I'll preface my post by saying that I'm totally aware of how stupid and dumb I'm being, and I even welcome more people telling me how stupid and dumb I am, because at this point I don't know what to do.
So I've been subscribed to several OF stars and followed many a hot men in my time, I've never had any issues, I subscribed for my own sexual gratification, got that and moved a long. In the last few weeks however, a new guy I've been following for a month or two started an OF. I'm not quite sure what it is about him, but suddenly I've developed a serious crush on him. He's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before going back to bed. On X, I've turned on my post notifications for him, something I've never done, and I even wrote him a silly love letter. Essentially, he is my dream guy. This crush has literally been all consuming, and all I want to do is meet him, be a part of his life and his happiness. If I lived close enough, I'd probably go visit him at his day job. For now he's only done solo work, but he's quickly become immensely popular and I'm already having sad and jealous feelings about when he inevitably branches and start collabing with other OF guys. It's all very dumb.
This has literally become debilitating to me, and all I think about during the last week. I haven't been able to work properly or focus on anything else going on in my life, all I want is acknowledgement and approval from him. I need guidance on how can move on from this, which even as I type this statement, the thought of moving on from him hurts my heart.
As an aside, this stupid crush was really unexpected because I'm in a happy relationship. Me and my BF are open, and have been dating for 4/5 years, we have very open communication, and I've even told him about this. I just feel so crazy, I want to move on but at the same time, I just want to be part of this guy's life. Please, I need help. Btw Im 31 years old.
An additional aside, I think I'm very used to getting what I want, as an only child I was pretty spoiled, and as an adult, I'm very determined, ambitious and hard-working when it comes to the things I want. In that respect, I'm finding it so difficult to accept that the one thing I want so badly right now, is probably unobtainable.

I'm a 23 year old guy. I come from a background of just not really knowing myself. This is just for a little context. Some of us unfortunately had to deal with toxic households. And as a result maybe contributed to depression, anxiety, suicidal thoughts. Cool. So years go by of just planning your escape while also trying to finish school and not off yourself. During high school I admired artists, animators, musicians, etc. I was brainstorming ideas of being in that world. I would watch these animation student thesis films on YouTube. These things were great to admire but I never felt such a strong interest or connection to participate. I was writing my own stories. I thought maybe I would want to write for comics or animation or even live action TV/Film. I applied to Ringling College of Art & Design as well as New Hampshire Institute of Art. I got accepted to both but I decided to just go to community college because while I had some scholarship, both were still a lot of money. And I really stopped having an interest to participate in writing as years went by. I want to keep this post more so focused on the job part so I'm going to leave out info that might raise questions but oh well. I finished high school and started college Fall 2019. Then the pandemic came so I left college. Then I was trying to figure out how to be productive. I really did not have an interest in school. To be fair I did not have much of an interest in life. I only stayed alive due to my belief. So I decided to just work, make some money and figure it out. I wanted to save for when I finally move out and progress in life. Didn't end up happening. I actually did end up going back to school. I didn't care about any of the majors I just did business for my associates and communications for bachelors. It was online but they also had a center downtown for students to do work. So I went there everyday in the summer of 2023 to graduate faster and be done with school one and for all. And I did. November 2023 I graduated with my BA in communications. In September 2023 that's when I was finished with school, the ceremony was just in November. So since September I was job searching. I was working with the career counselor they offer. She helped me with my resume, cover letter and showing me useful sites. I wasn't getting any jobs. I applied A LOT EVERY DAY. A few interviews. A lot of scam offers. I never really had a focus or a career I always wanted to do. So I applied to anything. But I had some ideas kind of. And I knew what I would not do. February I got an offer from this place that does job coaching for high school students. The salary was 55k. Now that sounds like something I would definitely not be interested in. Just not my thing. But also, I had no other offers. And especially none with that starting salary which I saw was okay I guess for entry level out of college. So I had no choice but to take it. It had been five months. I'm 23. I need money. I'm trying to save. So I did. And so far I caught on very quickly. There were a few bumps on the road but that's life. After a few months I can confidently say that this job is definitely not the one for me. It's a hybrid which was nice but sometimes they have you on your remote days going other places and to me that was a little annoying. They introduced a new in-office things twice a month on Mondays so that took away two of my remote days that were guaranteed lol. I would prefer to be more independent and remote. But I think I can do another hybrid, probably. Just not at a school. Also the school things isn't so bad. Yes some of the kids were annoying. It's just not my vibe. I'm not interested in working at schools. I'm not interested in interacting with students. And I'm just so lost in the meetings. I'm like "Why am I here? I have no idea what they are talking about and I do not care." I feel like such a phony. Such a fake. I don't know how I was hired. I must have been a great actor in the interviews. They even had a written activity I had to do. I must have a way with words. And the vice president of the company keeps telling me how happy she is that she hired me and I am here at the organization. I think that's so hilarious and sad lol. I reached out to my college career counselor again and we started trying to find things. We looked at different careers and I saw technical writing and copywriting. I started applying to those and haven't seen anything yet. But also I'm not after a specific job. I just want to not work with students and be more independent. That's why I mentioned remote work. So I'm still applying I never really stopped that job search process. Even when I accepted the job I have I was still searching. I just thought after college I would have a decent job I could stay at and FINALLY move out and be ok. Decent. Just ok. That's all. I already have absolutely no guidance, no help. But yeah I have sent out more applications for other jobs. I kind of feel done with the job I'm at now. I just don't want to be here. But I know I can't leave unless I get an offer from somewhere else. It's just I don't know why I'm worried I won't. I just want to be able to move out and support myself and stay at a place I feel like I can stay and I don't have to plot to quit.

I'll preface my post by saying that I'm totally aware of how stupid and dumb I'm being, and I even welcome more people telling me how stupid and dumb I am, because at this point I don't know what to do.
So I've been subscribed to several OF stars and followed many a hot men in my time, I've never had any issues, I subscribed for my own sexual gratification, got that and moved a long. In the last few weeks however, a new guy I've been following for a month or two started an OF. I'm not quite sure what it is about him, but suddenly I've developed a serious crush on him. He's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before going back to bed. On X, I've turned on my post notifications for him, something I've never done, and I even wrote him a silly love letter. Essentially, he is my dream guy. This crush has literally been all consuming, and all I want to do is meet him, be a part of his life and his happiness. If I lived close enough, I'd probably go visit him at his day job. For now he's only done solo work, but he's quickly become immensely popular and I'm already having sad and jealous feelings about when he inevitably branches and start collabing with other OF guys. It's all very dumb.
This has literally become debilitating to me, and all I think about during the last week. I haven't been able to work properly or focus on anything else going on in my life, all I want is acknowledgement and approval from him. I need guidance on how can move on from this, which even as I type this statement, the thought of moving on from him hurts my heart.
As an aside, this stupid crush was really unexpected because I'm in a happy relationship. Me and my BF are open, and have been dating for 4/5 years, we have very open communication, and I've even told him about this. I just feel so crazy, I want to move on but at the same time, I just want to be part of this guy's life. Please, I need help.
Edit. An additional aside, I think I'm very used to getting what I want, as an only child I was pretty spoiled, and as an adult, I'm very determined, ambitious and hard-working when it comes to the things I want. In that respect, I'm finding it so difficult to accept that the one thing I want so badly right now, is probably unobtainable.

[FIRST][LAST]
Atlantis Commission
Officer Report - Lieutenant Colonel John Shepard
CLEARANCE LEVEL 5
Well this had definitely been a very interesting couple of hours. This dimension and its people had very odd opinions and ideas. Apparently the prey species of this dimension were all obligate cowards, whose instincts compelled them to be non-violent and run from threats. At least according to themselves. There were apparently some of them who were “predator diseased” as they called it, a disease which often resulted in increased violence, aggression, lack of empathy, and unheard like behavior. It sounded to me like some form of infectious psychopathy, but the venlil assured us it shouldn't affect us since we were predators, which didn’t really ease my fears, but hopefully it was something we could figure out when we got home if it ever became a problem.
Gotta love mandatory quarantine periods woo hoo!
As scary as this odd disease sounded, my main concern at the moment was to try and turn a professed coward into someone who could at the very least defend themselves.
I looked down to the table of gear ahead of me and then over to the mostly naked Venlil to my side, and then even farther to Tiel’c who thought It would be a good idea to help oversee Farva’s rapid fire training course. I fiddled with the bluetooth earpiece which was rigged up to one of our handhelds to run a translation program to speak directly with the captain. A big step up from our unknowingly one sided communications earlier.
I stepped on the other side of the plastic table and placed my hands down upon it and looked on at my new student..
“Welcome Captain Farva to our very impromptu accelerated course on Human arms armor and basic infantry tactics.” I said gesturing to the hodge podge gear we had managed to assemble for the good captain. “Are we ready to begin?”.
She flicked her ears, somewhat nervously by the looks.
“I’d take it that's a yes then?”
“Oh yes sorry”
“Alright then, well given that most of our crew is human and the only other alien struts around naked all the time, the only gear we have on hand is for humans, So you're going to be running size smalls and it's all going to fit all a bit big” I say as I toss her the tactical vest. ”Here try this on, we can try to tighten it up if it's a bit loose anywhere”. The captain wrestles with the buckles a bit, and Teal'c helps her tighten up some of the top straps, as the Venil’s shoulders weren't as broad as humans. Farva gave Teal’c an odd look, but seemed appreciative none the less.Once finished, she grasped the vest in her paws with interest. “This armor seems quite lightweight, which is nice, weight is often an issue that causes us to forgo armor, since heavy armor would hurt our running ability.” Farva remarks. “Also the sheer amount of pockets seems quite excessive, what do you need all these for?”
“Well for starters it's currently missing these '' I hand Farva one of the armor plates which she looks over. “That is a depleted Naquadria ceramic composite plate. It’s designed to stop bullet impacts and dissipate energy weapon blasts. It slots into that chest compartment in the front and back of your armor.”
“This isn't quite what Id imagine for the armor of your kind”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well judging by your ships I would have imagined you would put more emphasis on defense Your predatory nature would make you less likely to run away from conflict allowing for more encompassing armor to cover more than just your chest, since you have less need to run.”
She would put it like that.
“Well there are a number of reasons for that, a lot to do with those excess pockets you mentioned. For starters you will not be carrying the same amount of gear that the standard infantry unit would normally be carrying, we are preparing you for a quick in and out op. Normally us expedition teams need to be deployed into unknown territory for extended periods of time, we need to carry everything we might need with us from food, bullets, weapons, to comms gear, sensors, repelling equipment etc. The weight from all that gear adds up fast; In order to stay sufficiently mobile and combat effective; we only carry enough armor to protect our vitals, head and torso, anything else can hopefully be patched up by a field medic.”
Tielc gave his piece as well. “It is important to know when to run both towards and aways from one's foes, not every battle can be won through strength alone, but by strategy and cunning. Being able to reposition oneself quickly is therefore highly advantageous”
Farva seemed to freeze at Teal'c's statement, not out of fear I think, she instead had a distant look in her eye. To snap her out of her slump I handed her a standard ballistic helmet.
Seeming to get the idea she looked at it oddly and tried it on. It confirmed to her head shape decently well but depressed her ears to either side of her head, kind of resembling what one might imagine a sad bunny rabbit to look like “I don't think this will be something I can bring with me” she said ” I can't use ear signals and this will muffle my hearing.”
“Why don’t you keep it on for the time being, I think any extra hearing protection might be useful considering what we are about to try next.” I hand Farva some ballistic ear protectors, slightly modified and somewhat ramshackle. “One of the corporals worked closely with Nurse Fila to get an idea for safe decibels levels for your kind, we were also able to get these earbuds molded to fit into your ear canal better”
Farva took them and slipped them in. “These are a bit uncomfortable, what do I need these for?”
“You'll need them for this” I say as I unsnap the clasps on the weapons case revealing its contents.
The content seems to capture Farva’s interest, getting a slight tail wave.
“Okay So this here is a p90, It carries a 50 round top loading magazine of teflon coated armor piercing ordnance. With a cyclical rate of fire of 900 rounds per minute.”
Farvas ears perk up at this. “This seems like an efficient design, I take it these are a flashlight and laser sight for accuracy?” She asked, pointing to the top of the weapon.
“Yes we also have holographic and acog optics which will help line up targets from farther away.” I look on as Farva picks up the weapon and inspects it, testing the weight as I note that it will weigh a fair bit more once loaded. But she doesn't seem to be struggling with the weight. I can't help but notice good firearm safety as well, she keeps her finger well off the trigger and takes care to keep her weapon pointed aways from anyone else.
“This seems like a solid design but I'm not sure how useful those weapon optics would be, as they are not designed for my side facing eyes”
“I'm sure our master at arms can figure something out, why don't we give it a test fire first tho, before we send it off to make adjustments.” I instruct her on how to load the weapon and turn the safety off. I warn her of the sound it makes. And while definitely taken aback by the recoil and sound at first, she quickly gets the hang of it, she has some respectable shot groupings in both single fire and in short bursts. And keeps the rounds reasonably centered while firing in full auto.
She did a whole lot better than I would have initially suspected given her performance in the hanger bay a day before.
“The rate of fire seems useful” Farva spoke “This would be useful for our soldiers, our accuracy falters when we are panicked, and the increased shot count should guarantee some hits based on volume of fire alone” she finished with a dejected expression.
She quickly places the weapon back in its case, as if it burned to touch.” I don't know if I should be armed for this mission, at least not with that weapon, I don't want to miss and hit one of you in the back!”
“What? Nonsense, you are a great shot, and this is just a precaution in case we get separated or flanked and need some covering fire. If our guys are doing their job right you shouldn't need to fire a single round anyways.”
Captain Farva’s breathing started to hasten, earlier I might have thought it was fear, but I was starting to get an idea of what the captain's issues were. I’ve seen this before.
“I.. I can’t be trusted with this responsibility, every time I am left in charge of something, every time people put their lives in my paws I ....”
“Farva, don’t you start with me now you hear.” I said sternly, swiftly capping off her inevitable spiral of self doubt.
“But.. no.. you don’t understand”
Stopping her again I spoke. “But nothing, what happened before on that ship, and back at that colony is in the past. I don’t know your whole situation, but from what I have gathered from the crew It was nothing good. You feel responsible and it's eating away at you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if that's true or not. Accidents happen, people make mistakes, and when that happens we need to learn, take those lessons to heart, and don't let it stop us from helping people in the present. If you let guilt, or fear of mistakes stop you, then bad guys have already won, all without having to have fired a shot”
Farva is quiet for a short time, I was hoping I got through to her, I'm not the best and pep talks and this certainly wasn’t your typical weapons demo, if only everyones could go as smoothly as Ronan’s.
Farva spoke quietly, arms pressed up against her chest, she looked so sad, defeated, and small. Well more than usual anyways. “We can't be strong like you humans, we are too emotional and when we are scared we run away or we lock up and...”
“And that is clearly not the case with you captain Farva” Teal’c finally reentered the conversation having heard enough. “You have shown courage with every action you have taken so far, your actions have saved the lives of many of your crew, every time you have been threatened you acted not just to protect yourself but others as well. You attempted to contend with beings many times your size without even thinking about it, all in the effort to protect others, and this is only in the time we have known you, this speaks nothing of your actions over the colony. You are a warrior of admirable courage Captain Farva, your self doubt is unearned.”
A single tear rolled down Farva’s eyes which she quickly wiped away. “That was very nice of you to say, but I'm not brave like you say, I was terrified out of my mind the whole time.”
Teal’c looked puzzled. “I did not call you brave, I said you were courageous.”
Farva shot back with the little venlil one up one down ear flick I had very quickly learned was confusion.” I'm confused you just said brave twice”
“Hmm it appears your language does not contain the word I am using, I apologize I am not used to speaking through a translator” Teal’c relented “ There are two words I am using admittedly in slightly different forms, bravery and courage. Bravery or to be brave is to lack fear, to not be afraid to begin with. Courage tho, Is a trait far more admirable. Courage is to be afraid, to have fear, to worry about one's own mortality and personal safety. It is to acknowledge risk, danger, to feel fear, but to act in spite of it.”
“Had I not met your kind before I would have thought predators don't feel fear.”
“Everyone fears feel Farva, It is how we overcome it that determines our worth as warriors”
Teal’c picks up the p90 and returns it to Farvas hands.
“Your people need a warrior Farva, a warrior who protects the innocent and guides the lost to safety. You have shown how collected you can be in the heat of battle, You have already proven your worth in our eyes Farva, now you must do the same in your own. The greatest enemy lies not without” Teal’c places his hand firmly on the venlil’s chest “But within”.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Chief Engineer Donu
I fiddled with my holopad, Its small surface area proving to be a consistent source of annoyance in my current endeavor. Gone was the large workspace afforded to me by my holotable back in my office. Instead I had to work with the scaled down portable holotablet I was just fortunate enough to have strapped to my person when I was beamed away from our last ship. I was stuck with its smaller keyboard and slower rendering speeds.
An annoyed smooth skin alien looked over my shoulder at my device, attached to it was a jury rigged fiber optic cable, slotted into a terran silicon to crystal patch cable, which would convert the electrical signals broadcasted by my tablet into a bandwidth that the terrans crystalline based computers; which they used for highly complex tasks like hyperdrive and transporter systems; could use, and then It was patched again in a even stranger connector to patch into the odd asgard computer stones.
All in all it looked like someone tried to plug a regular computer into some crystal construct like you would find in a fantasy holonovel, and again plugged that into a harchen heat rock sauna lounge. Finally branching out from this conglomeration was a simple copper based wire that connects to a computer terminal at which currently sat the late Doctor Rodney Mckay. A title upon initially hearing led me to believe he was a medical doctor, which led to a flurry of medical questions that he had absolutely no means of answering.
While this odd alien nomenclature was interesting, what intrigued me more was his actual area of expertise, theoretical astrophysics, as well as a number of other diverse specialties and fields. Not to mention not only was he a great scientist who had he been raised in the more civilized portion of this galaxy, would have knowledge and aptitude that would put him alongside some of Aafas greatest minds, but he was also an engineer without peer, at least in this galaxy. His interactions with general Samantha Carter hinted at her possibly being his match if not more. For a species that was supposed to glorify violence the decision to have a scientist be arguably the most senior member of what was by their admission a military vessel spoke to their commitment to knowledge and understanding, a very noble prey-like goal.
I looked warily at the lines of code at my screen, the asguard translation program had earlier scanned our ship and was able to parse written languages, but complex files, like images and 3d design schematics were harder to encode and decode from our perspective systems. As is stands we have 3 completely separate computer architectures, the asguard can talk to human computers and the venlil computers can talk to the asguard computers, It sounds like we would have everything we need to get a human C.A.D schematic into a venlil holotablet right? Wrong! And you're stupid for entertaining such a idiotic notion! Parsing text from raw binary is relatively straight forward, you're just looking for patterns, repeating bit combinations that might infer letters and then iterating them over millions of times looking for patterns, letters, words, and then with a bit of help from some undecoded analog audio transmission, spoken language. This is a far cry from actual procedural communication protocols,the ones that allow for file transfers, exactly what we needed if we were to get Rodney's redesigned part schematics into a format and medium that can be plugged into a suitable fabricator. Assuming one still exists, which I can reasonably assume it does.
Speaking of which, I have just made something of a breakthrough. For upon my screen appears a simple geometric hydrogen cube, we’re talking vertices, planes, material data, everything we need for a usable design file.
I let out an excited pent up yip, the culmination of hours of frustrating software integration work. Unfortunately I startled Rodney, who lets out a panicked gasp and clutches his chest pelts with one of his paws.
“Oh god…..” He gasps, pointing at me “Please.. don’t do that”
“Sorry!” I say a bit meekly. I slowly approach him so as to not make him unnecessarily uncomfortable and show him my work.
“I got the file exchange set up, all we need from you is to finish any modifications to your part, upload them to my holopad, and then we can print away at any class 3 or above fabricator we can scrounge up on Brayga colony.”
“Ok.. um.. got it, I'm almost done i’m just you know” He points a lone grasping appendage at his screen,”Running some simulations, making sure everything is up to spec.” keeping his response kurt. “Sorry for freaking out there.”
I nod my head in the human display of affirmation and return to my workstation to further bug check my work, to test potentially problematic edge cases for when he finishes. Tho Rodney's continued odd behavior intruded on my thoughts.
I should have felt empowered, being able to intimidate this ‘massive beast’, but I didn't. I didn't like being feared, his people have been nice to me, Rodney himself courteous to a fault and desperate for positive attention.
I thought I could expect predators to be fearless but that clearly wasn't the case, rodney was fearful, nervous, had I not known better I would say defective, and while it annoyed his crew, they didn't berate him for it, or attempt to assert dominance, they encouraged it even with placating words and tried to help him through it, they encouraged and supported him like a proper herd, even if sometimes it took the form of what the human would call a playful ribbing. I supposed I could help him as well.
I approached him again, careful to make my approach known to him, making sure to approach from within his limited field of vision. He looks up at me with a wide eyed glare, had I not known him I might have assumed it was hunger, but I did and knew it to be concern.
“Uh high Donu.. um whats up?”
“Why are you afraid of us rodney?”
“Wa-What, me afraid?” he gives out a panicked laugh ”uh no no, I'm not afraid, you know just a bit weirded out I'm just getting used to you all, it's not a fear thing it's a a…. Just getting used to new aliens thing, ask Hermirod we went through this whole song and dance right buddy”
Hermirod furrowed his brow and gave an irritated sigh from across the room.
I reached out to take Rodney by the paw.
His whole body flinched at my mere touch, I quickly withdrew my paw.
“Oh.. um.. I didn't…”
“Rodney! It's okay, your crew doesn’t seem to care when you show fear, and neither do I. Why are you afraid of us? You are almost twice our size and surely double our strength, most venlil would scream and run in terror at the mere sight of you. What's wrong?”
Rodney let out a sigh. “Oh its, we don't have to talk about this, I can deal with this, I deal with scary situations all the time, it's fine, I'll be fine.”
“Rodney, my people are a very emotional, empathic people, we are open with our feelings and with our fear, and the fear of the one can affect the herd, please let me help you. I don’t know what to expect from your society but I promise I wont judge you for your fear or emotions, I mean look at many of my crew mates, we are no one to judge”
Rodney shot back “You didn't seem to be so bothered”
“I’m too old to care, I was about to retire, hell I was about to die as far as I knew, Brayga colony was supposed to be a quiet place to lay back, work on some hobbies, plant a garden and pester the young men of my colony until I either dropped dead of boredom or got lucky” I joked.
That seemed to raise Rodney's mood somewhat. He sighed and seemingly relented.
“It’s… a dumb story, I don't even know why it affected me so much, I come from a place on earth called Canada, people don't usually believe me when I say I am from there, us Canadians are notoriously friendly and I guess I haven’t exactly filled that mold for a lot of my life, but hey I'm working on it, people like me, I have lots of friends back at Atlantis” He says the last sentence in a way as if it isn't me he's trying to convince.
“I'm sure you do, Rodney, You seem like quite the charming individual when you're not cowering!”
“Ha ha thanks, maybe you could come and visit sometime. Tell that to doctor Becket, really nice guy, smart man, he would love to meet you, he loves investigating new species. But back on topic, oh boy, so me and my sister Jeannie were on a family trip to rural Vancouver to visit my grandpa's farm, he kept a lot of goats, not for eating or anything, they were essentially pets that he would use for milk”
“Wait hold on? You drink milk from other animals! Do your females not produce enough milk for their young?”
“Oh um no, we just sort of drink it or ferment it into cheese!”
“Ferment? You mean spoil?
“Yeh”
I reeled from this plasma blast of a statement, I like any right minded venlil had a number of nightmares about being an arxur’s cattle before, especially when I first learned about those things in primary school, but never once had it crossed my mind that we could be used for something so weird. What the speh was I supposed to do with that information?
“Maybe you should get back on topic”
“Yeh sorry about that uh.. Anyways the momma goat had just had a litter of babies, and their real cute when their little, so late in the day when my grandpa was asleep we snuck out to the pens so we can play with the little baby goats, our grandpa told us not to but you now how kids are.”
At this I think back to a young Nyan, as I teach him the inner working of the hyperdrive, I tell him he’s not cleared yet to operate in this engine compartment alone, but I could tell from the occasional caught black hairs and dropped writing implements, there had been a number of curious unauthorized expeditions into its inner workings, he didn't really listen either.
“My sister as always was trying to be the voice of reason, wanting to take it slow. If I was paying attention I might have noticed the angry moma goat who didn’t appreciate the strange human messing with her children.”
The color seemed to drain from his face.
“I uh…” He began to stutter again ”I screamed, a lot, it was rather undignified, she ran right at me, thank god it wasn't a male goat, one with horns, I tired to run but I was hit in the back and knocked over and kicked real good in the head, like wake up in the vet clinic a quarter mile down the road kind of bad”
“This goat was a prey animal?”
“That would be what your kind focuses on”
“Oh sorry”
“Anyways It seems dumb but I have just never been good with animals since then, especially ones that look like you; no offense; I'm getting better but when I first saw you guys in the hangar bay, I was just that dumb kid again, getting in way over my head, scared for my life. I guess there is something to be said about childhood trauma. I really should be over this, I'm getting better with it I swear it’s just”
I take his paw again, he doesn't flinch this time.
“I'm a venlil, a prey animal, I know fear, I know what it is to live in fear, It rattles your brain, it turns your paws to wet grains. It takes great strength to overcome it, to push it aside just long enough to protect the herd. Your herd relies on you Rodney and you are doing a great job in spite of your fear, in spite of having to work with those you fear. You have achieved intellectual feats that rival the greatest minds of the federation and all that while struggling with a traumatic experience. Fear isn’t dumb and there is nothing wrong with you for feeling it.”
“Thank you” Rodney says “That means a lot, I won't be like forever I promise, I just need some time.”
“We will laugh about this someday,” I assured. “Nothing as big and intelligent as you should be afraid of anything”
“Are you calling me fat?” Rodney exclaimed with fake offense.
We both chuckled.
My kind words had resulted in a more upright posture, and a more cheerful demeanor from the human, almost like when I congratulated Nyan on his work, and it got me a look at that happy snarl of his, that I was starting to grow quite fond of.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Apprentice Engineer Nyan
Oh wow! I get to write a report for this mission! I never get to write reports, Donu says they're too boring, but there’s so many interesting things going on all the time. Sometimes I sneakily write my own! Just for fun of course, nobody sees them, which is probably for the best as I sometimes get excited and embellish them slightly. One of the reports I wrote was about the time Donu used nothing but a wad of electrical tape, a bottle of high grain venlil alcohol and a pocket knife to repair a venlil medical ship just in time to get out of the way of a big scary space predator, with glowing red eyes and a million tentacles!
Anyways Im not sure If im suppose to write these In present tense first person or past tense. I asked the captain and she said it's whatever so long as I make sure any pertinent dialogues are properly quoted(“”).
“Nobody usually reads these things anyways.” She said, but this one is surely going to be so exciting, who could look away!
I mean who's gonna scoff at a chance to read about friendly predators from another dimension! A dimension of friendly predators who give warm head scratches and hand out yummy strayu not strayu treats called donuts, that are somehow fluffier than strayu, and have a nice moisture to them. I asked for the recipe but Samantha said we wouldn't have the ingredients back on Venili prime to make them, and Teal'c said the recipe is an old family secret. Its weird predators would be so protective of their plant snacks.
There are so many weird things about these predators, they have nurturing instincts that make them find us cute. They stay perfectly balanced even if they don’t have tails, swinging their arms and body all over the place to keep upright like a lopsided gyroscope, it's pretty funny looking!
They also wear artificial pelts all the time, which I thought was weird, I thought maybe the ships temperature was set by the angry gray alien since he’s the only crew member beside the venlil who walks around naked all the time, maybe he had a fit when it was to warm, and the humans obliged him cause they were worried they would make him even angrier, and wore clothes to make up for the cold. I thought this made sense, a lot of their technology does seem to come from the Asguard, maybe he has more say in the goings on of the ship because of that. But apparently humans just like wearing pelts all the time. They feel uncomfortable without them and don’t like it if you try to remove them or look up their upper artificial pelts they call shirts.
The humans are so weird, I don’t even have to embellish my reports to make it more interesting. Like that time with the big tentacled space predator. That may sound real compared to this stuff but it Isn't, Ha! I bet you fell for it at first, hook line and sinker! Like the humans would say. I think I used that saying right, I'm not sure what it means, but Shepard brought it up when he was telling a story about the wraith.
The humans are so nice, instead of exterminating their predators they try to cure them! Their doctors are working to modify the wraith so they don't have to eat humans anymore, so they can be friendly predators too.
Anyways I should probably get to the actual report part of this report. Farva says I should start after I went off with Samantha to work on some special astrophysics equations she said I would be good at. I kind of wanted to go with Donu to help Rodney get the new parts they needed, or Farva to help rescue our people, but the humans and even the angry gray alien got really weird when Farva mentioned taking me on the mission. Samantha seemed to want me to help her really badly so I didn’t mind. Samantha says I have the most important part to our mission. She's teaching me about how humans communicate through subspace, and about stellar drift equations. We are working on what she calls the exit strategy.

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I had a typo on my initial return of $2 so I submitted an amendment to update and paid the $2 difference (now I know I should not have amended so quickly). I got a letter acknowledging the acceptance of my amended CY2023 tax return. The only amendment made, as reflected on the on the 2023 Form 1040X, was to line 13 which was adjusted by $2. Per the letter, the IRS adjusted my account as requested, and this adjustment did not alter my tax or credits, indicating no further action was required on my part.
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STARTER (anything here can be tweaked to suit your character!)
In the sanctuary of your office, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, a mound of correspondence patiently awaits your perusal. The sea of mundane white envelopes is nothing out of the ordinary, but an emerald letter in golden script somewhere in there catches your eye. The return address bears the seal of the Royal Apothecary, an institution unknown to you, situated in the remote town of Jabuticaba—a name you have only ever encountered on maps, and it is addressed to you directly, a professor and researcher who has been working at the University of Mykon for over twenty years. With a measured hand, you unfurl the envelope.
Sir—
I write to convey a matter of grave concern, one that has regrettably eluded your attention since the publication of your dissertation entitled “the potential of elemental alchemy in mineral extraction” back in January. I am sincerely outstanded that a shadow hasn’t been cast upon your career and standing. I am therefore led to believe the academic standards of University of Mykon have gone down in the past thirty years since I last was an overseas student. In an ideal world, I would trust that, following your resignation, the vacant post would swiftly be filled by a learned and forward-thinking scholar, one who actually champions the cause of progressive sciences, thus illuminating the path for the minds of tomorrow. Yet, I am all too aware of the political machinations that often dictate the course of academia, where adherence to antiquated principles of elemental alchemy prevails within the hallowed halls of your establishment.
The oversight in question is no trifling matter. In your report, you assert that our continent lacks the requisite climatic and soil conditions for the growth of hyperaccumulative plants such as mimilus pangiens and mormine baratensis, therefore making it impossible to perform phytomining to extract metals from the soil. You advocate instead for the practice of elemental alchemy to obtain these vital compounds, a notion that I find preposterous. I write to you now surrounded by these very plants you claim are impossible to grow without the rarest of conditions, flourishing in abundance no more than 300 leagues from where you teach. The former blooms resplendent with its crimson tears and cadmium skirt, while the latter, though in nascent stages, has expanded its network of roots significantly. You may wonder at my methods, but I assure you, the truth lies within the realm of possibility.
That during your entire research process you ended up overlooking the vast network of exceptional herbalists active and thriving in all corners of our rich civilization is tragedy. That this omission also went unnoticed amidst the rigors of peer review is comedy.
I assure you, under different circumstances, I would not concern myself with the written ramblings of amateurs, fictionists, or charlatans who roam the corridors of your institution. It is not my duty to lead the willful pighead towards enlightenment, nor do I relish the prospect of engaging in fruitless endeavors. However, fate has intervened in the form of a promising protegee of mine, who, through diligent scholarship, earned a prestigious placement at your university. Imagine my astonishment upon her return, then, bearing your treatise, which to my dismay is now part of the national syllabus.
It is not with much of a heavy heart that I contemplate the necessity of addressing the errors that have crept into your research on phytomining. Were it not for the endearing praise and admiration bestowed upon you by my impressionable yet brilliant protegee, whose judgment I trust despite the fable quality of the tales she shares of your teachings, I would be compelled to raise my quill in defiance and expose these discrepancies to the discerning eyes of the intellectual community. Let this instead be a fair warning to do your due diligence and rectify the shortcomings of your life’s works.
With concern and scruple,
N.H. Al-Tamimi
RULES
* Be +21
* Discord
* Send a sample
* Third or first person, past or present tense
If you wish, instead of an alchemist, your character can be a demonologist, an exorcist, a mage, a witch... And his field of research can be anything else you would prefer, as long as it's in the realm of fantasy and/or science fiction!
This story starts off as an exchange of letters. Other than the occasional anatomical etching, botanical watercolor or daguerreotype (not of each other, of course! That would be frivolous. Unless…), there will be no actions, no dialogue, no inner monologue, only what our characters are willing to write on the pages of their letters to each other.
But who knows! They might eventually muster the courage find a reasonable justification related to timeliness and confidentiality for talking on the phone, and eventually, finally, one just might go looking for the other in person.

Dear Altruist,
I made a stupid mistake impulsively. I contacted some person on the internet who said he would help me secure an early slot for an F1 visa interview. I shared my CGI portal email and password with him, and then he immediately changed the email and password of my CGI account. Later, he shared some screenshots of my CGI portal claiming that he booked an early slot for me which I caught as fake and edited upon closer inspection. He also refused to forward me the official appointment confirmation letter from the UStraveldocs email which struck me as a red flag too. Now he is demanding payment in order to release my account which I've no intention of doing so.
I already emailed to support team of USTRAVELDOCS regarding this issue.
I fully acknowledge this was a gross mistake on my part. I was wondering if anyone else has faced a similar situation like this, and how he/she resolved this. Also, how long did it take for them to resolve this? Do I need to take any other steps?

Dear Altruist,
I made a stupid mistake impulsively. I contacted some person on the internet who said he would help me secure an early slot for an F1 visa interview. I shared my CGI portal email and password with him, and then he immediately changed the email and password of my CGI account. Later, he shared some screenshots of my CGI portal claiming that he booked an early slot for me which I caught as fake and edited upon closer inspection. He also refused to forward me the official appointment confirmation letter from the UStraveldocs email which struck me as a red flag too. Now he is demanding payment in order to release my account which I've no intention of doing so.
I already emailed "[Support-bangladesh@ustraveldocs.com](mailto:Support-bangladesh@ustraveldocs.com)" and "[support@ustraveldocs.com](mailto:support@ustraveldocs.com)" regarding this issue.
I fully acknowledge this was a gross mistake on my part. I was wondering if anyone else has faced a similar situation like this, and how he/she resolved this. Also, how long did it take for them to resolve this? Do I need to take any other steps?

STARTER (anything here can be tweaked to suit your character!)
In the sanctuary of your office, bathed in the soft glow of morning light, a mound of correspondence patiently awaits your perusal. The sea of mundane white envelopes is nothing out of the ordinary, but an emerald letter in golden script somewhere in there catches your eye. The return address bears the seal of the Royal Apothecary, an institution unknown to you, situated in the remote town of Jabuticaba—a name you have only ever encountered on maps, and it is addressed to you directly, a professor and researcher who has been working at the University of Mykon for over twenty years. With a measured hand, you unfurl the envelope.
Sir—
I write to convey a matter of grave concern, one that has regrettably eluded your attention since the publication of your dissertation entitled “the potential of elemental alchemy in mineral extraction” back in January. I am sincerely outstanded that a shadow hasn’t been cast upon your career and standing. I am therefore led to believe the academic standards of University of Mykon have gone down in the past thirty years since I last was an overseas student. In an ideal world, I would trust that, following your resignation, the vacant post would swiftly be filled by a learned and forward-thinking scholar, one who actually champions the cause of progressive sciences, thus illuminating the path for the minds of tomorrow. Yet, I am all too aware of the political machinations that often dictate the course of academia, where adherence to antiquated principles of elemental alchemy prevails within the hallowed halls of your establishment.
The oversight in question is no trifling matter. In your report, you assert that our continent lacks the requisite climatic and soil conditions for the growth of hyperaccumulative plants such as mimilus pangiens and mormine baratensis, therefore making it impossible to perform phytomining to extract metals from the soil. You advocate instead for the practice of elemental alchemy to obtain these vital compounds, a notion that I find preposterous. I write to you now surrounded by these very plants you claim are impossible to grow without the rarest of conditions, flourishing in abundance no more than 300 leagues from where you teach. The former blooms resplendent with its crimson tears and cadmium skirt, while the latter, though in nascent stages, has expanded its network of roots significantly. You may wonder at my methods, but I assure you, the truth lies within the realm of possibility.
That during your entire research process you ended up overlooking the vast network of exceptional herbalists active and thriving in all corners of our rich civilization is tragedy. That this omission also went unnoticed amidst the rigors of peer review is comedy.
I assure you, under different circumstances, I would not concern myself with the written ramblings of amateurs, fictionists, or charlatans who roam the corridors of your institution. It is not my duty to lead the willful pighead towards enlightenment, nor do I relish the prospect of engaging in fruitless endeavors. However, fate has intervened in the form of a promising protegee of mine, who, through diligent scholarship, earned a prestigious placement at your university. Imagine my astonishment upon her return, then, bearing your treatise, which to my dismay is now part of the national syllabus.
It is not with much of a heavy heart that I contemplate the necessity of addressing the errors that have crept into your research on phytomining. Were it not for the endearing praise and admiration bestowed upon you by my impressionable yet brilliant protegee, whose judgment I trust despite the fable quality of the tales she shares of your teachings, I would be compelled to raise my quill in defiance and expose these discrepancies to the discerning eyes of the intellectual community. Let this instead be a fair warning to do your due diligence and rectify the shortcomings of your life’s works.
With concern and scruple,
N.H. Al-Tamimi
RULES
* Be +21
* Discord
* Send a sample
* Third or first person, past or present tense
If you wish, instead of an alchemist, your character can be a demonologist, an exorcist, a mage, a witch... And his field of research can be anything else you would prefer, as long as it's in the realm of fantasy and/or science fiction!
This story starts off as an exchange of letters. Other than the occasional anatomical etching, botanical watercolor or daguerreotype (not of each other, of course! That would be frivolous. Unless…), there will be no actions, no dialogue, no inner monologue, only what our characters are willing to write on the pages of their letters to each other.
But who knows! They might eventually muster the courage find a reasonable justification related to timeliness and confidentiality for talking on the phone, and eventually, finally, one just might go looking for the other in person.

I have my OET examination in 10 days. I am a native English speaker however I studied medicine in a different language and have been working for the last 10 plus years in my second language. I have never worked in a hospital environment in English. I am particularly worried about the English writing part of the OET. Is there a reputable service where I can send a sample of a referral letter to be honestly graded to see if I am ready for the OET test? I did the OET Pulse test and I passed easily however I felt like its format doesn't evaluate writing in a way that is similar to the real OET test. Any suggestion would be helpful. Thanks.

I feel bad for Hating my nephew. My nephew is 13. My family has had custody of him since January of this year. My nephew in all fairness hasn’t ever really had it easy. His father left when he was 3. His mother never remarried but became very close to an old friend, who proceeded to raise my nephew as his own. From the ages of 4 to 11 before he passed away. Granted my nephew however is not an easy child. His issues started when he was about 8 years old. Setting fires, stealing things, stealing from his school, pathologically lying, and getting violent. He used to beat his mother black and blue, and yes despite being small and young, my sister is a skinny twig, so he really packed those punches and cause she would bruise very easily. He’d call her a shit mom, tell her to fuck off, the cops had to called countless times before he was even 10. To the point the cops just stopped responding even telling my nephew “ he was a very troubled kid, and the cops wouldn’t even react if his mother flipped the switch and beat him”. Countless hours of medication and counseling seemed to only stop the fires, not the lying or stealing. He would threaten his stepdad by telling him he was not his father. Because he couldn’t attack my brother in law as he was a 6’5 250 man, he’d hurt him by destroying his dead fathers memorabilia ( his father was a pretty small town famous tattoo artist and show performer). So that was all my brother in law had left of him, and my nephew would destroy it. I’ve had to run over and help my sister and him rein my nephew back in. One night we asked him to please put the stack of clean ceramic plates away, he Argued and thought it’d be best to just raise them up and slam them down on the kitchen floor. I was not wearing shoes and got cut a bunch from the shards flying. As time went on and the more difficult my nephew got, my brother in law and sister started to drink. Not much and not all day or everyday. Talking to my brother in law privately he’d cry and be so stressed he was losing weight. He became more and more withdrawn. Finally he got incredibly sick and was given a couple months to live. The stress combined with the alcohol caused his organs to fail. I feel I share my head with 5 other people, my psychiatrist thinks it’s part of my schizophrenia. So while I consciously don’t blame my nephew for my bother in laws death, the other people in my head certainly do. My sister shutdown while still trying to deal with my nephew. She called me one morning begging me to come over while crying. I walk in to her asking my nephew to please get dressed for school, she’s tired of getting truancy letters (he’d run away before school would start, he was 10 at this point), only for him to scream at her “shut the fck up you stupid btch). He knew I didn’t play like that so as soon as he saw me albeit sobbing he put his clothes on and I walked him to the campus and watched him go in ( sometimes he’d head to school but never actually go in). When he was 12 so last year my sister really hit a new low, got a new man, who In turn gave my nephew a gaming computer, consoles and vr headsets. He’s now acting like a 26 year old computer addict.
I think my sister let it happen because she had been dealing with my nephew by herself for years, and at this point I think she didn’t care what he did as long as he wasn’t screaming, swearing, breaking things or hurting her. Like I said we’ve had him for awhile, him living with us has been hard. Food constantly goes missing, he constantly lies, or takes peoples things and won’t admit it. Some days my mother is understanding and forgiving some days she doesn’t seem to notice anything. She is 74 and doesn’t notice a lot. I’ve noticed my nephew is also a great gaslighter and manipulator. So he can convince her that he accidentally took her brand new towels and threw them away by accident, or that he doesn’t know how a broken bowl wound up underneath his bed. And most times my mom just accepts his answers while not understanding why I’m getting on him so hard. I had a breaking point a few weeks ago, I know it may seem small compared to what others think. But we had just a conversation with him about not eating peoples ice creams (that’s the biggest thing he does is takes sweets) we tell him just ask and we’ll be more than happy to share with you. I had a frozen yogurt I was saving for after my physical therapy appointment. Came home. It was gone. I asked him and he screamed and cried he didn’t take it. I found the remnants later and sent him a video to only then did he confess that he had taken it. Lately my other sister who lives with me and along with her kid can’t take it anymore. Even though it’s easy for her to block my nephew out as she has her own kid, she can’t stand the yelling when he’s on the computer or coming home and everyone’s fight with him. She is moving out this summer, and I’m planning on moving out next January. I have attachment disorder. I love hard and easily but once you screw that up it doesn’t come back to me easily.
Before my brother died I hadn’t spoken to him in 10 years after what he said to me during a depressive episode when I was 10. I didn’t like him and I wanted nothing to do with him as he himself was an alcoholic with anger issues. Point being I’m seeing my nephew the same way I see my brother. I admit I don’t like him. I admit I try to tel myself repeatedly he’s been through sh*t and he needs help but a part of me is like “ you’ve been his half parent since he was 3 and you’ve been trying to reel in his behavior since he was 8. He’s now 13. So yes it’s getting harder and harder to have sympathy for his situations. I don’t really acknowledge him anymore other than when I am giving his cat back (his cat is a kitten and can’t be left alone while he’s in school so I take care of him during the day). I noticed I don’t respond anymore when he says “ I love you”.
I am bipolar and schizophrenic. When I start to lose my shit my moms all confused as to why and I point out to her my conditions and tell her it’s been a long time coming. For a bipolar person to always keep their anger under control 24/7 for 5 months is very hard and yes sometimes my brain just spills out. Don’t worry I’m still mentally there so I understand it’s best not to have a meltdown in front of children which is why I always retreat to my room and don’t come out for the day. I’m torn because I am the family caretaker. I take care of the dogs, cats, 7 chickens, the gardening, the cleaning and the cooking and cleaning up the kitchen. As I said my mother is 74. She’s had nothing but screwed up children all her life since she was in her 30s. 5 kids and all of us ended with some mental illness or another. I know she’s tired, and I know she’s breaking down (I’m sorry I’m starting to cry). I’m scared to move out cause I’m afraid the difficulty of raising my nephew is gonna stress her out so bad she too might die sooner rather than later. She was already very physically sick last month. She’s mentally stressed out and always exhausted. My sister lost custody of my nephew as I said.
I truly believe part of the reason she refuses to fight for custody of my nephew is because she doesn’t want him and his behaviors backs. From vandalizing the school property to stealing from people, she is over it, my other sister is over it, I’m over it but trying to be strong for my mom. And my mom I think is just numb from him. We’re great at still doing what an auntie and grandmother should do. Play with him, listen to his rants, try to calm him down when he’s mad. Gently point out his mistakes, take him out to a movie or food, or the arcade. But it’s all a facade internally. I won’t even mention how a 13 year old treats female classmates or his perverted views on them. We’ve have to tried to get him admitted, we’ve tried medication, we’ve tried counseling but this child knows he can just run away and refuse. The cops have given up on doing anything with him. So for the time being, everyone has to hide they’re stuff in personal fridges in our bedrooms. Good we don’t want taken or missing. I have cameras in my room, the garage has a motion sensor light, we all have to hide out debit cards and wallets as he’s been known to steal those as well countless times. It sucks. I know deep down subconsciously I love him like a little brother. Consciously my schizophrenia does not like him. I have the type where I hear, smell or have multiple voices in my head. Like I said it’s like having 5 other people living in my head. Luckily my schizophrenia is controlled heavily by therapy, medication and as I know the difference between right and wrong, and can comprehend one’s emotional well-being so I never lash out at anyone but it doesn’t stop the voices from speaking they’re truths. Sucks watching him walk in and the voices immediately saying sht like “ yea he’s gonna end like all the screwed up men in this family” Guys he’s only 13, he’s been through stuff “Shut up OP even you’re sick of his sht, you can’t even say I love you too back when he says it”
I know I just freeze up cause emotionally I’m conflicted, I’m trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and have hope. But in that moment i don’t how to respond when he says that.
“B*tch you’re on your own, all of us have no hope”
I’m at a loss of what to do. I want my own space for my mental wellbeing. Yes having the second floor and balcony to myself is nice but I feel I need my own own space. But I’m terrified of leaving my mother alone with the animals, house and mostly my nephew. I am however forcing her to go to Barcelona for a month, so I’m hoping that’ll at least give her brain time to relax. I’ve talked to my counselor and therapist, they are kind of at a loss of what to do as well. Except increasing my dosages especially on my anxiety meds. I don’t mind it but it makes me very stoned out and that makes me fall behind in house tasks, cause I’m just tired all the time. I’m scared, I’m tired of crying, I’m tired of being angry, I’m just tired. Between the house, yard, animals, my nephew, and my mothers well-being, I’m very tired. I’m sorry for the long rant, I’ve been sitting on this for a while and I feel I can’t tell anyone. Just need it out.

I made a post about this a week ago and was informed she was emotionally abusive, but I still have no idea what to do
I love this girl so much. She's incredibly attractive, intelligent, funny, and we have the same sexual interests, life aspirations, and educational/career goals. We've been together for almost a year and a half now.
I'm in University and do a lot for her, I drive 100 miles round trip to see her and bring her flowers weekly. We haven't cuddled or had sex since January, and I desperately miss it. I bring it up to her and she gets defensive, telling me to stop bringing it up and that we'll have more time in the Summer when we both don't have school. For her birthday, I got her some lottery tickets, her favorite energy drink, home-made cookies in the shape of hearts, flowers, and a hand-written card with a love letter and cute drawings of us and her cat on it.
She didn't like it. She was mad it seemed like "last-minute" and the cookies were terrible (they were honestly, I fucked up). She said I ruined her birthday and in a fight called me a r*tard, childish, immature, and claimed I don't care about her. I had a nervous break from other extreme stressors in my life and sped off, making a scene with my tires squealing and getting uninvited from an end-of the academic year trip with her and her mom.
I texted her about how I felt afterwards, and she told me some reassuring things. She goes through some periods in her life where she lashes out, that she just needs to work through this and it'll be better when we can finally spend more time together, that shes disappointed how hurt she made me feel both then and over the past semester with me feeling unwanted, saying its a bad habit she wants to get rid of because she knows how it hurts. We agreed that open communication was the key to fixing it, that we love each other and that is more than enough to fix any issue. She told me it was really nice talking to me like this, and that she appreciated everything I did for her. She did nice things for me like giving me cute cat stickers and sending me recipes so that I could learn to be a better cook.
I told her I wanted to talk to her in person about it, and we did. I envisioned a long drive where we talked for a while, she spent 5 minutes telling me she appreciated me for putting up with her, that she knows shes hard to deal with, and she loves me, and she wants to spend more time together in the future/summer when it'll be better. Then she moved on.
I wasn't ready to move on, and later on in the short drive back, she got mad at me for communicating too much. She didn't think I had anything else important to say, that I was repeating myself (Its hard for me to get words out when I'm interrupted and stressed sometimes), and that I ruined it because we were on a positive note and then I turned it into a negative note by bringing up somethign that we already talked about. She got mad and refused to move on when I offered that, remaining mostly silent. She asked what my parents thought and if I told them about the argument we had on her birthday. I did, she dropped me off and gave me an I love you.
She left for her trip yesterday. Last night texted that something went wrong, and she might be coming back today. This morning she texted me that she doesn't appreciate me sharing everything about our argument with my family/friends (and the internet via this throwaway account, but she doesn't know that). That she values privacy and I'm victimizing myself after ruining her birthday yet again, and that she "just can't". I can't either. I feel stressed and like I can never do anything right to make her happy. She makes me feel like a bad boyfriend when I don't think thats the case.
I know its emotional abuse by now. I have a therapy meeting on Thursday to discuss this. But I don't think its intentional on her part, this is her first relationship too and she has had a whole life of being emotionally/physically abused so shes used to this. Not to justify it. I want her to change with how much I love her and how perfect she is in so many ways. That said, I don't see how it can be done if she doesn't want to communicate with me.
I don't even know how to respond to her texts this morning. I'm tempted to write a big letter of how I love her and how I feel and why, but I'm scared shes just going to get mad at it and me. I dont think she knows how much shes hurting me, and I'm not sure if I'm to blame at all. What is love without communication and improving to be better for each other? I'm also terrified that if I leave her as everyone I ask for advice from is telling me to, I won't find anyone better. She's just so perfect for me in so many ways. I'm heartbroken our relationship has deteriorated to this, and the only way I can see it getting better is through mutual communication and acknowledgement of faults which is proving difficult.
Any thoughts or opinions/reassurances would be deeply appreciated. Thank you
TLDR; girlfriend verbally abuses me when she's mad, apologizes, does nice things for me, then "solves" the issue on her own through communication and gets mad at me when I'm not done communicating and bring up the issue already "solved" by her and ruining the high note it left on. I love her more than anything and know I shouldn't tolerate this treatment, but I don't think she realizes how wrong it is. I want to inform her in a nonjudgemental way and help her to get better, but I don't know how. I'm terrified of leaving her. I feel like she truly loves me and our relationship can get better, but only if she acknowledges something is wrong and we work through it together, which we are having trouble with.