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More misery bird? More misery bird. Really miserymaxxing with these fics I have going, but hey, this one is not that miserable actually! Krekos is back and ready to be dense and downcast, but maybe not quite miserable? Read and see!
Big thank you to NoP community for being great and supportive of my endeavors!
Also, obviously, big thanks to SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and allowing fanfiction well to flow free!
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Memory transcription subject: Krekos, Krakotl Refugee
Date [standardized human time]: May 6th, 2137
I stare at the foul creature before me. Normally staring at something directly head on like that would be too predatory for me to do, but after nearly dying of bread yesterday, I didn’t feel patient enough to be gentle. The creature stared right back, though in a much more natural, prey-like way, tilting its head slightly as it looked back at me with one eye and let out a long bwok.
“Are you doing this now? Really?”, I ask, knowing full well it cannot respond.
Well, it can, if another bwok it made is any indication. Of course, translators aren’t yet advanced enough to translate non-sapient speech, but the intention behind sound is intuitively clear. It’s telling me to back off. Well, I tried the diplomatic approach at least.
Raising my wing I begin sliding the bird out of its nest, careful to keep any delicate joints out of its reach. It started clucking in upset indignation, struggling back and even trying to peck at me, but after realizing that I will not relent, it hopped out of the box and rushed out of the cattle house, revealing a single dead egg in the nesting box.
With relief, I finally pick up the last egg and head back to leave them at the house. Turns out that while Reginald didn’t forget to both lock them up yesterday and let them out today, he did neglect feeding them both times, as well as collecting the harvest. So when I was driven back here in early morning, the first thing I did was making sure they were taken care of. I can’t say the horrid birds looked in any way hungry, but the moment I poured the feeding grain for them, they attacked it with more viciousness than I’d expect of an actual predator. And yet only thirteen were present at the feeding, as the one that’s usually the target of flock’s ire remained in the cattle house yet again, Reginald leaving it to it, being unaware of its undesirable habit of trying to hatch dead eggs.
With eggs delivered, I flew my way to my usual spot atop the cattle house and could finally relax. The loner beast first made its way to feast on the scraps of the grain that other birds already all have had their fill of, so I wasn’t too concerned. Instead I tried to reflect on the morning I had so far.
Waking up at the hospital did make me momentarily panic before I remembered the precluding events. Not that I could properly panic, feeling the most starved I’ve been my whole life, and too weak to try flying out of the window. Thankfully, the breakfast they provided was actually well made with krakotl needs in mind, algae soup alongside a few slices of bread, this time without any horrid human ideas like putting eggs in there. Eggs! Turns out they put eggs in some kinds of bread! That’s how I got sick! Eggs! The thought of what I consumed even now made me queasy, and it definitely made breakfast a much less appetizing affair than it would have been without that knowledge, but back then the hunger won over the disgust.
Lena did keep her promise and came to pick me up extra early. Her being a staff member at the hospital gave her some extra privilege, I assume, hence why I was released without any forms needing to be filled out personally. She did have important business today too, which probably explained the earlyness and urgency of her driving me back to her house.
That did not mean I escaped her ire, however. While I couldn’t pinpoint anything to identify the man, as Bob was apparently a common name, that offered me bread, we did come to understanding that he was likely either unaware of the nutritional contents of it, or of extent to which the Cure-induced allergy would be affecting a krakotl. Yet, Lena seemed much angrier at me for failing to take any precautions. Turns out that was the purpose of medicinal injectors, epipens as humans call them, that were provided to me. I was supposed to have them on me in case I accidentally ingested contaminated food. Nobody told me that, I was just handed them back when I first received the necessities at the refugee camp and I had no clue what they were for. Then she also berated me for eating random food from strangers and ignoring bad flavors. Turns out that brioche bread isn’t actually bitter at all, and that was my body reacting to an allergen in it. Reaction that I unwisely elected to ignore, to further ire of my host. By the end, several new rules of my stay here were made, including not eating things I don’t know and always having at least one epipen on me. Thankfully, these rules would be ones I’d start following even without them being established, so I won’t have to concern myself with being kicked out over accidentally breaking them.
As if following the rules will be enough to make them like you.
Trying to distract myself from thoughts of yesterday’s incident, I focused my attention on the flock. All birds accounted for, so at least I knew that my absence did not result in the predator coming to snatch one of them. I do not wish to insult my hosts, but Reginald is far from most attentive people in matters unrelated to his job, and I am not sure the birds were watched at all while I was out. Speaking of, my scannings of surrounding treelines revealed no sign of the predator today. Perhaps it departed to hunt elsewhere, or maybe it ventured too close to a more populated area and exterminators dealt with it.
Actually, did human exterminators work similar to Federation ones? I knew for a fact they had them, although they seemed like a market of private organizations if advertisements are anything to judge by. Still, what methods do they use? I know humans oppose fire, and do not believe in predatory taint, but surely they have measures to protect themselves? They are, by self-admission, far from the best natural predator, and I doubt Earth’s non-sapient predators would just leave humans be. Maybe I should call one of those human exterminator agencies and call them in to deal with that predator? I haven’t told Lena or Reginald about it, as I didn’t want to bother them, but it could pose a serious threat to the cattle, but maybe that’s the way I could resolve it without involving them?
I have not done nearly as much research into human culture and lifestyle as I should have, considering that I’ve lived on Earth for over half a year now, but the sheer width of the topic always overwhelmed me the moment I opened internet search app to the point where I just closed it right away.
And you expect to start studying again with that attitude? You’ll flunk out even from this primitive predator education course.
Extra loud call from the flock made me refocus my attention on them, but it was nothing. Just the loner getting pecked extra hard and lashing out against assailants, causing a small aimless stampede as all the birds ran around in circles, puffing up at one another. The assailants now looked a lot more like victims. I could understand those birds more than I could humans at least. The loner bird is clearly an odd one out. It’s the only one repeatedly trying to hatch unfertilized eggs it lays, and it seems to always avoid the rest of the flock. Humans may deny the existence of Predator Disease, but they can’t deny that prey and predator both can and will sometimes behave in unnatural ways that may threaten the herd's safety. Or pack’s, in case of humans. Birds must know on instinctual level that the loner’s behavior is unnatural and are attempting to combat the Predator Disease on instinctual level. And since that is natural, I still will not interfere in this, unless the loner bird actually becomes a threat to others or will start getting too injured. The first time I attempted to pick one of the birds up was the only time for a good reason, as I have learned their viciousness all too well.
DING-DING
The sudden loud ring startled me enough that I nearly tumbled off the roof. Who would be coming over now? Lena and Reginald have left together and shouldn’t be back until afternoon, and they’d never use the bell. That means someone must be here for them. But wouldn’t they warn anyone to not come over? Especially with their plans for today.
With nobody to answer these questions, I had no choice but to go and discover the answer myself, flying up and over the house, towards the entrance gate. The moment I passed the house roof, I already saw a familiar silhouette. It was the human child from a few days ago.
Thankfully, Lena’s insistence on me carrying an epipen at all times meant I also carried my satchel at all times too, so I didn’t have to go grabbing my holopad, and took it out. But before I could even launch the translator TTS app to type out a greeting, the child was already hopping in place with excitement.
“Mr. Krekos! Hi! I came over to visit!”, she exclaimed, showing off her teeth in an unnerving expression of human joy. I simply tried to avoid that and focused on the pad, typing out my response.
“Hello, Rosie. Why are you here?”
The question was genuine, as the child was not carrying any more of that honey substance from last time.
“I just came over to visit you! Is that okay? Are Mr. and Ms. Vince okay with it?”
Visit... me? Why? While I was confused, I did instinctively type out a reply.
“They did tell me visitors are allowed as long as there’s no trouble when I first moved in.”
And before I could type a followup message asking her why she’s here, she already let out a joyous roar and ran past me.
“Can I see the chickens?”, she asked, and not waiting for an answer, rushed past the house and towards the cattle yard.
“Wait! You’ll scare them!”, I yell after her, but of course without a translator she can’t understand me as she runs like she already knows where to go.
And indeed she has, quickly rushing up to the open field where the birds were grazing. Thankfully she didn’t start chasing them, instead just approaching the flock from a distance and swaying in place, watching them with what I assume was some sort of predatory excitement at the sight of prey. Maybe that’s where the contained hunting instinct of human children showed themselves? In chasing small birds? I was still more subdued, considering she stopped shy of causing a small stampede, but still.
“Grandpa used to take me with him! He helped watch this farm until Mr. and Ms. Vince moved in. I like chickens! I think they’re cute.”, the child told me innocently as she kept swaying and watching as the beasts grazed upon insects of the pasture.
That revelation was... interesting. I suppose it makes sense that between the original owner of this land dying in the bombings and Lena and Reginald moving in, it would be unattended. With nobody to feed and watch over those things, they would be long dead for sure. And it was Rosie’s grandfather... Speaking of. I typed out my words.
“Does your grandfather know you’re here?”
She seemed to get a weird look as she stopped her excited swaying, fiddling with her hands instead. Looks like I asked the correct question.
“...he knows I am out visiting neighbors.”
That did not answer my question. I squinted at the human child, and she dipped her head as she continued.
“...he doesn’t know I’m here specifically. Or that an alien even lives here...”, she explained, her tone suddenly more sullen.
I couldn’t help but squint at that, and it appears that my expression was readable enough that even a human could see the suspicion, as she continued.
“I’m sorry... But if I told grandpa, he’d tell me I’m forbidden from talking to you, like he forbade me from talking to hedgehog people in town... But I want to talk to you! You’re nice and you’re a space bird!”
The child was actually working around the rules established by her guardian to come see me. I don’t know if I should be glad or concerned. Clearly, the man is anti-alien in his opinions, and I’d rather that kind of man not know about how close he lives to one. At the same time, I’d rather not encourage a child for lying to their guardian in order to meet a stranger they know they aren’t allowed to interact with... So I just took the middle path with my next message.
“I see. What did you want to talk to me about then?”, TTS speaks for me.
Her stiffened body language disappears, replaced again with earlier excitement.
“I wanna know more about space! And aliens! It’s all so cool but grandpa says it’s all dangerous because mom and dad died. But it’s not! The hedgehog people were nice, and you’re nice too!”
I wasn’t sure about that logic, but my self-preservation told me I shouldn’t try convincing her to go confessing. Instead I focused more on her chosen topic.
“I am not sure I am the best person to ask about space. I am not a scientist or traveler.”
“But you’re from there! You know way more than me. I don’t even know what you are called. And there’s gotta be cool things out in space!”
I let out a sigh. I suppose it’s childlike curiosity at its finest. So unfamiliar with mundane that it is a wonder. I remember being like that about becoming a doctor.
And then you let your teacher die.
I quickly tapped on the pad.
“Okay, I can answer questions, but I may not know everything.”
The noise that came out of the girl was like a squeal of a panicked dossur as she started hopping and spinning in place.
“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Mr. Krekos!” Sudden movement did cause me to recoil a bit, which in turn caused her to cease her happy flailing and adjust her little dress. “I dunno where to start though... Hm... What are you?”
...for all my trepidation about not knowing answers, I should have anticipated that the questions she asks will be rather age-appropriate and on the same level as we learn in our first school classes. At least I won’t disappoint her then.
“I am from a species called ‘krakotl’. We’re avians, as is obvious. Our home is...” dead, gone, reduced to glass and ash by our own hubris “...was Nishtal. A beautiful planet...”
Thankfully she did not question my hesitant pause. Instead she just nodded along.
“What about the hedgehog people? I already know venlil, but they’re the only ones I know name of.”
Hedgehog people in town she mentioned earlier. The only species I could think of that could be seen there would be the gojid. I have no clue what hedgehogs are, but probably some creature with visible similarity to them.
“They are called ‘gojid’, and they’re from gojid Cradle. Both of our species are... well, used to be known for our might and protecting other species of Federation.”
I am not sure if that’s something to brag about, considering... everything. But I didn’t want this child to get brought down with depressing regrets of our species. Let her know something nicer instead. She clearly lost a lot, but there’s still joy left in her. I wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that.
“Cool! What about other people? I wanna know more!”
And so I went on, telling her about various species, although I mostly focused on ones in this new human-led union, only mentioning kolshians and farsul beyond that. It’s weird explaining to a child what a tilfish or a harchen looks like, but thankfully my holopad isn’t just a method of communicating with implant-less children. With access to interstellar web, I could easily pull up pictures of various alien species to show to her, even if she struggled to believe that some of them were even sapient purely based off of looks. With how varied species in Federation are, and how some of us admittedly aren’t too far physiologically from our more primal ancestors.
Among other topics, she asked me to tell her interesting things, which I didn’t know much of. I told her about Venlil Prime’s tidally locked status, a rarity among habitable planets, much less homeworlds for species. I told her about the unique architecture of Mileau, designed to accommodate both species of regular size and dossur themselves. I told her about Colia medical academies, some of the most beautiful medical facilities in the galaxy.
I wish I was more well-travelled, but I just wasn’t. My whole life, I never left Nishtal until the extermination fleet took me despite my protests. That may have been what saved my life...
Not that I, of all people, deserved it...
“Hey! Stop that!”
I flinched as I heard the child yell, but quickly realized that it wasn’t directed at me. Instead, Rosie was rushing down towards the chicken flock, breaking up the fight in which the loner was being pecked by a few larger chickens. As the human child approached, the birds stopped their infighting and scattered in different directions, crowing in loud panic and discontent. On instinct, I found myself rushing towards the child, forgetting about translation entirely.
“What are you doing?! Don’t touch them!”
I didn’t want her to hurt the cattle accidentally, and I didn’t want her to get hurt by the angry birds in return. But, it seems like the moment the birds scattered, she was satisfied with her actions and turned back to me, wearing another one of her happy smiles.
“Sorry, Mr. Krekos, I just saw chickens being mean. Bad chickens.” She explained.
I was baffled. Why would she interfere like that? When I tried that back when I was just starting, that got me pecked! But with her, the birds just scattered. What if they pecked her?
I took the pad out again and started typing quickly.
“That was dangerous. Why did you do that? What if they attacked you? Why are you even interfering in their natural dynamics?”, questions flowed out of my pad with an artificial human voice.
The girl simply giggled.
“They’re chickens! They aren’t dangerous. They don’t peck that painful and I’ve been scratched worse before. And I have to stop it because bullying is wrong.”
Then she actually noticed that the one that was being attacked wandered close. She casually approached it from behind, the blind spot and just reached down and grabbed it, picking the bird up. I was ready to rush to help the bird when...
“Mwah! There, all better.”
She did a human ‘kiss’ on the back of the cattle bird’s neck before releasing it, the surprise of it causing it to rush off. I knew what kisses were, I’ve seen enough of them between Lena and Reginald, but I believed they were gestures of intimate affection, not... what was even that?
It seems Rosie noticed my confusion as she explained.
“You gotta kiss it so it heals better! That’s what mom taught me.” The child displayed that smile of hers shamelessly. With how much I was being exposed to it, it almost wasn’t unnerving anymore. Still, it was interesting to learn that kisses are seen as something that helps wounds. I guess some species do have saliva with mild antiseptic properties, wouldn’t be too out there to assume humans are the same. And if that’s the case, maybe that’s how the kissing tradition started? Exchange of protective fluid between lovers?
“I see. I did not know that.” I responded before letting my puffed feathers relax. Okay, this whole ‘watching a human child’ thing is turning out to somehow be even more stressful than I expected at first.
“Wait, Mr. Krekos, what time is it?” She suddenly asked, looking up at the sky.
“It’s nearly twelve.” I respond, holopad having a convenient clock for local time.
“Oh no! I need to be home soon! Was nice seeing you Mr. Krekos gotta go bye!”
Before I had even a chance at typing out an answer or my own goodbye, the child sprinted away and back towards the entrance. I had to take flight just to keep up, and even then she just turned around, waved her arm at me and then kept sprinting down the road after leaving the gate. I simply offered a small wave of a wing back before locking the gate again. I suppose it is hard to keep track of time without a device or clock nearby...
Well, at least I had the usual peace and quiet now. And learned a bit more about the creatures I was in charge of. I should really try to deal with my aversion to looking things up on the human internet...
Just as I was about to head back out towards the yard, I heard a loud car horn, a familiar one, getting my attention. Lena’s car. There they were, signaling me, probably having spotted me at the gate from afar. Deciding to make use of my presence here, and hoping to avoid needing to explain that I had a surprise visitor earlier, I went ahead and opened the large gate, allowing the car to enter.
Once it was parked in the usual space, the doors opened and three people came out. Lena and Reginald were both looking a bit disheveled, but their faces carried these smiles that seemed wider than ever before. And third person... Was a stranger. A human I knew of, but never actually met. As he exited the car, a large bag in one hand, he just stared at me, standing in the front yard...
“...okay, I expected many things when I was told you guys housed a refugee, but not this.”
Oh no. Oh no, he was not one of the ones that was willing to overlook an invader that partook in bombing of his planet being allowed to walk free, of course, Lena and Reginald were the weird ones like that, doesn’t mean their son won’t be... I felt the panic rising as I realized I’d need to return to the camp. Why was I upset about that? This was supposed to just have been a way to make money, but now I have a free education program. Do I need to stay? No, but... Why?! Why do I not want to leave?
“Ken, you said it’s going to be alright no matter what it is, right? Wanted us to keep it a surprise to meet a new friend?” Lena’s voice. She should have told him, that’d give me time to prepare why didn’t they give me time why.
“No, no problems, just, really surprised, that’s all... uh... hey, buddy, you okay? You’re really... trembly.”
He was approaching me, and instinct took over as I recoiled, before stuttering out my answer.
“I-I’m fine...”
...thankfully translators don’t translate voice cracks. I hope, at least...
“Hey, relax... I have no problem with you being a krakotl, I just didn’t think...” He looks over at Lena and Reginald. “Calm down... I can wear my visor if you want?”
Right. Those things humans use to hide their scary faces from us.
“I... I’m good...”
Why would it last? It almost felt good after all.
There was some emotion I struggled to read on the young human’s face, as he sighed and shook his head.
“I screwed this up, I’m sorry. Let... Let me try again.” He straightened out, and adjusted his clothing, before slowly approaching me and giving me a small smile, no teeth showing. “Hello. My name is Kenneth Vince and I'm son of Lena and Reginald Vince. I was told you’re a refugee they took in to help out. It’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”
That... snapped me out of it. Right... He was... not upset at my existence. He was just very surprised that Lena and Reginald weren’t. That’s a reasonable thing to be surprised about, considering I was surprised about it to this day. I tried to compose myself as I responded.
“My name is Krekos. I live here as... hired help with the cattle. It’s... nice to meet you?”
The smile on Kenneth’s face widens, though he still refrains from showing his teeth. Instead, he extends a hand towards me. A handshake is a human gesture that I found far from comfortable, but I didn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind on acceptability of my existence, so I took it with a wingclaw. He gently took it and held for a few seconds before letting go and sighing again, turning to his parents.
“You know, I always thought you guys would be empty nesters, but I never thought it’d be that literal.”
That got all three of them laughing, as I just tilted my head in confusion. I was fairly sure there were no empty nests in the house until after I adjusted the attic room for my own accommodations. Still, I took the laughter as a sign that the tense moment had fully passed and let my ruffled feathers slowly rest.
“Let’s head inside. Krekos, we’re having dinner, you’re welcome to join us.” Reginald said, picking up Kenneth’s bag. I tilted my head a little and he followed up with elaboration. “We will be having meat... But there’s still going to be stuff you can eat too. It’s a celebration, so I prepared a bit of everything.”
“Dad, you shouldn’t have!” Kenneth responded with embarrassment.
“None of that! Our son returned from the war, alive and a hero, and we can have a celebration. Krekos, I know you’re still... uncertain about meat so you don’t—”
“I’ll join.”
Wait, who said that? And why did they say that in my voice?
Wait, that was me. Why did I say that?
“That’s great to hear! I’ve got some nice steamed broccoli and some vegetarian fried rice as sides that you’ll enjoy!” Reginald smiled at me and I felt myself shrinking into my feathers. That the humans didn’t notice at least, proceeding into the house instead.
Well, looks like I signed my warrant. At least my bag and my epipen were on me in case something at the table triggers the allergy again. Would be rather unfortunate to have it happen two days in a row.
And that’s how, in just ten or so minutes, I found myself sitting at the dining perch, while humans took seats in chairs, all consuming chunks of roasted flesh and somehow managing to also stuff pieces of equally roasted plants in, and converse with one another. You wouldn’t be able to tell on first look, but despite their mouths being relatively small, especially for a predator, it seems they compensate for it by having those be near bottomless in both hunger and small talk.
I am not sure how I managed to shift my focus away from them consuming animal matter in front of me, however vat grown it might have been, and onto their conversation instead, but I succeeded. I suppose that was just part of me going native around predators. Soon, I’ll be the one feasting along with them before I know it, and snacking on those epipens to not die of it.
Like you could ever be on the same level as humans.
“So, Fahl? That’s where you were sent after the Battle of Earth?” Lena asked.
“Yeah. From what I heard, we got a light posting compared to guys at Sillis or Mileau. The most I had to deal with was some exterminator insurgents.”
That’s right. Since harchen participated in the Extermination Fleet, they were one of those who were occupied by humans during the war. It makes sense that there was at least some ground resistance.
“Honestly, the worst thing out there was the heat. Not the flamethrower kind, the climate. The place was so damn dry and hot. At least exterminators you could subdue or evade. Not so much with the scorching sun!”
I couldn’t resist a small chuckle at the idea of a predator being more afraid of hot weather than flamethrowers as I slowly pecked at the vegetables on my plate. Thankfully it was set far enough aside from any meat dishes that no contamination should occur, but I was still examining pieces before putting them in my mouth just in case.
Seems like reacting was a mistake though, as that brought Kenneth’s attention onto me. He finished chewing latest piece of flesh and pointed a fork at me.
“So, Krekos... Where are you from? Cradle was my guess, but I do know there were refugees from other places like Sillis too.”
That’s a weird question. Isn’t it kind of to be expected for a krakotl to be from our actual homeworld?”
“I’m from Nishtal.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Kenneth chuckled, tossing a piece of broccoli into his mouth and swallowing before continuing, “I meant, where did you live? I kind of assumed you were born there, but it’s not like Nishtal had a chance to send refugees out, and if they did, this is the last place they’d be.”
Oh... I caught concerned looks of Lena and Reginald, looking between me and Kenneth from both sides. Not only did they not make him aware that I was a krakotl, they also neglected to mention just how I came by my refugee status... Which was just a legal workaround to grant me asylum without unnecessary complications or establishing undesirable precedent. Legally, I may be a refugee, but practically... I am a defector. Lena and Reginald know that, I told them my story before. And while they were weirdly accepting, Kenneth... Fought extermination fleet here on Earth. Personally.
Still, I wasn’t about to lie. It took a few moments and gathering mental strength to steel myself, and averting my eyes, focusing on the plate of warm vegetables in front of me rather than the human’s anticipating stare before I answered.
“I did live on Nishtal. I... I came with the extermination fleet.” I responded, doing my best to avoid looking at him. I did not want to witness his reaction, for some reason the thought of seeing it weighed heavy on my mind.
“Oh.”
The response was simple, and had no followup. There was no more clinking of cutlery against plates, or chewing. The only thing hanging in the air of the kitchen was silence, weighing down on me. It dragged on and on... until it just got so unbearable I couldn’t take it.
“I-I’m full... Thank you for the meal.” I quickly said, hopping off the perch and stepping out of the kitchen, quickly making my way to the yard and taking flight.
Fresh air of the outside and rush of it as I flew up and gained speed... I missed that. I knew it’s not safe to just fly over other people’s territory, so I corrected my course into doing large sweeping circles over the cattle yard and simply let my wings carry me.
Flying away from any danger is the only thing I’m good for anyway. The only thing I ever do.
I closed my eyes. With them closed and not focusing on my angle it feels like I’m actually flying away from all the troubles. Away from humans who barely tolerate my existence, away from gojid who see me as worse than a predator, away from Earth and all its incorrigible customs, away from horrid cattle, away from constant memories...
Flying feels nice. It may be a bit harder than it was home, but it’s still possible. I heard that on Venlil Prime or Mileau it’s much harder. But here? Just an extra flap of wings for every few paces and you’re just fine, free to soar the skies...
Alone. With no one to ever share it with me again.
Slowly I let my eyes open back to the bleak reality. Greenery of surrounding pastures and woods, bright blue skies and farmhouses dotted about here and there greeted me. I lowered my gaze down, focusing on what’s below. There they were, fourteen brown and black dots spread around the enclosed portion of the farm territory. I am not sure how much time I’ve spent flying in circles and trying to forget things but my wings were feeling a tad sore. Then as I just began slow descent, in same circular motion, I noticed that one of the birds, a familiar one, was being chased by several others. Recounting the morning, I tried putting the knowledge to action, and shifted direction of descent, swooping down. To my surprise, that actually worked, as the moment I got close to the ground, the cattle birds all got much louder and scattered in all directions, including the loner. Who, at least this time, got off unharmed. I suppose such pathetic flightless creatures would fear a flying one much more than they would when I just run up to them...
Swooping at them from the sky like a predator to intimidate them into behaving... Like an arxur warden.
With the fight preemptively broken up, I flutter up to the roof of the cattle house, to my usual position and rested my wings. I didn’t see any movement from the direction of the house, so I suppose the family is still busy unpacking. Since Kenneth joined the military just before the Battle of Earth, and Lena and Reginald only moved here after their actual house in city of New York got destroyed, it’d be the first time the human is seeing what is basically his new home. There was a room set aside for him since before I even moved in, and while there is also a guest room... That one did not have a large enough window to fit through, which did not feel comfortable. So when I asked for a space with a bigger window they only had an attic to offer. They seemed uncomfortable letting me live in a tiny room with slanted roof, but I found such space more comforting than I would have a large room with a window not large enough to fit even one fully spread wing through.
I wonder if Kenneth will need as much renovation as I did? The house is built for humans, but he never lived there before. Will he need to buy a more comfortable bed? Getting a proper nesting setup in place of a bed took a bit of effort, but I figured something out. Human sheets were comfortable enough for such, and sitting perches were thankfully not that hard to get thanks to help from the refugee administration. Maybe that’s the things that Lena went to buy yesterday? Kenneth’s preferred room decor?
I looked up to the sky to see the sun beginning to dim. I am not sure if it was me flying that long, or me losing track of time in my thoughts again, but the sun was beginning to set. I began my usual chores, putting out an evening meal and water for the beasts, and while they feasted, ate some myself. I was a bit hungry, having not properly finished lunch and about to skip dinner, but after the earlier conversation, I’d really rather avoid giving them the opportunity to talk to me.
After the birds had their fill, and by that I mean they emptied the tray as they always do, I let out the call, and they started funneling into the cattle house. The lonely straggler being first to go and hop into its nesting box. I bet tomorrow I will have trouble with getting her out of there again...
I took the moment to gather some eggs the birds left over course of the day, and once that was over and all of them were accounted for, I closed it up. When I flew down over to the house, there wasn’t anyone by the back door thankfully, so I just left eggs there, returned the basket, and returned to my room through the window.
Well, at least I didn’t get nearly killed today... That’s nice I guess?
I was about to check my holopad when there was a knock on the door. I approached and opened it to see... Kenneth. Standing in the doorway.
“Uh, hi, Krekos. I just, uh... Wanted to apologize again. I really wish mom and dad told me everything ahead of time... I just want you to know, I have no problems with you whatsoever, yeah? It’s just. Surprising, I guess, to hear all that. I didn’t think there were any defectors from the fleet at all... Just. Uh, please don’t worry about me?” He offered me a small smile, showing his canines before quickly correcting himself and doing a closed-lip one. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or make you feel unwelcome.”
I had to take a moment to contemplate his words. Was Lena and Reginald’s weirdness hereditary? He almost reminded me of how Reginald talked to me early on, with constant stumbling over the words, as well as constant reassurances that he is fine with me being here. Couple that with failing to avoid predatory mannerisms like eye contact and smiles like Lena tends to and you get this human. But most importantly and least understandably, there was the general fact of him and them just... welcoming me. I couldn’t understand why. I should be one sorry to them.
“N-No, it’s fine... I’m sorry for... intruding on you and your family.”
“No, no, dude, you’re fine! I mean, hell, I was considering entering one of those exchange programs before the bombings happened, and even after, well, I did my best at Fahl to be the perfect friendly soldier just there to make sure no more bombs drop on my home and not kill or conquer anyone. And then mom told me your story, and I can’t believe it... Just... If you have any issues, feel free to tell me. I’m not one of those racist pricks that are too pussy to even call themselves HF anymore because they know they’ll get their teeth knocked. I get that there aren't good or bad species, just people. And you seem like a decent guy if mom and dad’s judgment is to be trusted.” His smile widened, though it was clear from tension on his face that he had to take conscious effort to keep teeth hidden. “So, what I said earlier stands. Friends, right?”
He extends hand forward, for a second time today. I wasn’t sure if I knew this human long enough to call him a friend... Any human really. But it also seems like human definition of ‘friends’ is anyone they’re cordial and peaceful with. Which is weird. You’d think translators would properly use ‘acquaintance’ for that.
Still... We will be living in the same house now. I can’t just say no, and... I can’t come up with a reason to say no. Even him being a predator and a human is not something I could really say I object to, considering how... mundane that became to me over my time here.
So, with naught on my mind but acceptance of the situation, I extended my wing and grasped his hand with my claw. This time he actually gripped it tightly and moved it up and down, as I saw other humans do occasionally.
“Yeah... I guess that’d be for the best.” I responded, shrugging off the hesitation. Fresh start for a third time, I guess?
The human grinned, forgetting to hide his teeth entirely, but I was ready for it somehow and avoided outwardly reacting.
“Cool! Anyway, I’ll try to get some shuteye early, I couldn’t sleep on the overnight flight home. See ya!”
And with that he left. Well... That meeting went well I suppose?
I returned to my nest and picked up my holopad, returning to what I was doing. And there it was, something I awaited every day. A notification that I was messaged on mailing app. Opening the letter revealed the schedule for the study program. Which... only had one day marked on it. And a note that the rest of it will be figured out ‘as we go from there’. So it’s not a schedule, it’s just a mark for the day of the first meeting.
While a bit underwhelming, it was still exciting. It would be an all-alien class so I wouldn’t have to deal with humans’ incomprehensibility nearly as much, and it would allow me to finally return to pursuing what I actually dreamt of. Even if I wasn’t entirely sure that was precisely what I wanted after everything that happened, it was at least something for me to move towards.
...just two days until start. I wonder if there’s some required reading to prepare?
[First] - [Prev] - [Next]

1330 Terran Front Fleet Time
On the Turinika homeworld, the first signs of unrest began to manifest like a wave, The broadcast of the most esteemed Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata, Taratanti of the roost Kazatalak, openly performing the act of Kavsa had been met with shock. The last Taratanti who had voluntarily performed Kavsa had done so in protest of the treatment of the Kulorn caste, nearly two thousand years prior. It was an ancient rite, one that signified rejection of the greatest shame. Even more shocking than the act itself was the evidence that had followed it. Visuals of species, brought into the Conclave, not as migrant workers as had been believed, but as slaves, was met with an almost immediate attempt at censorship. This attempt failed spectacularly, mostly due to those who had been tasked to censor the information not only refusing to follow the command, but openly declaring that they had been ordered to do so. A situation that was already, as the humans would say, out of hand, spiraled completely out of control. Within only twenty minutes of the ending of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s broadcast entire cities entered a state of absolute anarchy. Two planetary capitals were stormed and taken by the furious civilian population, demanding the location of those who had been enslaved. The Turinika Armada, which even then was in the middle of a training session meant to prepare the fleet to withstand the Terran Front’s assault, began to cease operations. Within the hour, the entire armada would be recalled to the turnika homeworld. Those who did not take to the streets simply stopped whatever work they were doing and went to their homes to be around their brood. Images of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata with his stripped wings spread wide in front of the human fleet commander were on every news fed of the Conclave, as was the sound of his thunderous voice, and the wails of despair from a turinika female that couldn’t be seen. Close ups of the human fleet commander’s face were shown, with analysts remarking on the shock, horror, and sympathy. Since the outbreak of the Seventh Orion War, the female human known as Simmons had been reported to have made several threats towards the turinika, she had quickly become seen as a warmonger, ready to take revenge against the turinika for refusing to go to war and violate their principles of pacifism. Now the images of her lunging forward to stop the violation of Tizikikoonazikiakakiatkata’s plumage, the agonized expression of her face, and the true reason for her threats against the turinika were rapidly reversing her image. On far flung deep core mining stations and agricultural stations, on deep space stations dedicated to material processing, and in other areas hidden from the sight of the normal turinikan population, overseers and taskmasters felt their hearts run cold at the knowledge that very soon, their part to play in the willful enslavement of another species would be known to the wider Conclave. As the data package transmitted alongside the broadcast were fully decompressed and the scale of the Conclave’s government’s involvement was revealed, the entirety of the Conclave itself was teetering on the verge of absolute pandemonium. The image of a member of the kolra species, from the look of it barely a hatchling, quickly was becoming the face of the entire incident. The picture was absolutely damning, and the sight of the image had sent any who saw it instantly into contorting and painful displays of shame. The young kolra was sprawled on it’s stomach, looking to the one taking it’s picture with eyes that had no life in them. It’s shell covered it’s back, and despite the age of the kolra it was already dulled and scuffed. The foot pressing down on the shell was unmistakably familiar to those who saw it, the clawed feet of a turinika. Within the hour, billions of winged figures stood in streets, the normally soft spoken and passive species demanding action, demanding justice, on the hundred worlds of the Turinika Conclave. The bulk of the Taratanti caste, most of whom had been left in the dark of the truth of the situation, quickly went public with their own declaration of outrage, and the eyes of the entire species turned inwards to the mountainous homeworld of their species.
Hakuri Watanabe looked down at his helmet before putting it on his bed, the stylized SEVEN seeming to stare at him. He sat down in his chair and picked up a small cloth from his buffing kit. No one knocked on his door, in fact, mostly he and the rest of his squad were left alone before a major operation. They were just given their time, time to mentally prepare. Some of his squad would go over their mission briefing, some, like him, would spend their time doing something to relax themselves. Hakuri always found that taking care of his suit calmed him considerably. Granted he could simply turn it over to the squads armorers to be tended to and they would do as good of a job as he could, but he preferred it to be done by his own hand. The symbol of a triangle was on his form fitting shirt, the symbol of his special operations command unit. He was known as a Myrmidon, but the official title of his unit was Section Three. He knew this, his superiors knew this, and as far as Hakuri knew, most of the Terran Front was aware of his unit’s existence, but past that, they knew very little about what he actually did. As far as his mother knew, Hakuri was a pencil pusher onboard the TFS Berlin, the troop mothership that all of his letters were sent from. He thought about writing her, but then again, he only liked to do that when he returned from a mission, not when he was expecting to go to one. If he tried to write her when he was waiting, he would just get anxious, and homesick. That wouldn’t do when he was dropping into a combat zone. That wouldn’t do at all. Hakuri instead started to buff his helmet, waiting for the word to come down which meant they were prepared to jump. A glance at the clock made him pause in his circular rotations. The clock said 1330. Operation Naked Sun was about to begin.
Tika was on his side, Kzia standing at the end of the medical bed that had been adjusted for his turinikan physiology. He felt cold in more ways than one. For his people, clothing was more of a decoration than a necessity, but without his protective plumage he felt the cold stabbing him through to his hollow bones. His diplomatic access was already gone, his privilege access revoked. He heard the broadcast for a preparation to jump, but he wasn’t truly listening. There was no question in his mind he had made the right decision. There was no question at all. One of the humans, a nurse, came to his side and gently laid a heavy blanket over him. The human’s hand lingered on his trembling body for a few moments before it was removed, and Tika glanced in their direction. The female was one of the ones who had responded first to the call for medical service for him, had heard what had happened and why. Tika had gotten very used to being glared at on this ship. He was hated, and he knew it. He knew he had deserved it. He was a party to the vral’s enslavement of the humans, the chua, and far too many others. When he had come to Thermopylae station, he had not even given that fact a single thought. He was born into power, being of the Taratanti. He belonged to the most powerful species and government in the entire quadrant of the galaxy. His people, while mighty, did not seek to use it. To him, they had simply been above it all. When the vral had approached him with the offer to sell captured species at first TIka had wanted to reject it out of hand, but a few had told him to go through with the sale. Such was the nature of this galaxy, or so he had believed. The weak were at the whims of the strong, and one’s place in the galaxy was determined only by the power they could wield. The turinika were not nearly the first to have taken a species and used it for slave labor, and while Tika did not approve of the deal, he had not fought it either. As he looked back to the wall, he remembered what the humans had taught him these last days. When he had arrived in Thermopylae he had assumed he would find the chua species to have been at the very least regulated to a subservient role, if not outright enslaved. Finding them sharing power was a curiosity. He had expected to be treated with all the honor and dignity that his station demanded, that the power of his government demanded. Fleet Marshal Simmons had disabused him of that, and had left him humiliated and shamed. As he had laid in the dark as Simmons had declared the Seventh Orion War, covered in his own filth, feeling as if at any moment he was going to be killed he knew true fear and horrific uncertainty for the first time in his life. He had never faced these emotions, these sensations before. He had always been in power. He had stood with the full might of the Turinika Conclave behind him. He had never known anything other than the superior position. Now, as he lay in the hospital bed, staring at the wall, he was ashamed of how arrogant, how blind, and how short sighted he had been. After he had risen from his own filth, he had desperately tried to convince his leadership of the strength of the Terran Front, how it matched or eclipsed their own. The Conclave was not the unchallenged power in the quadrant anymore. The terrans, the human and chua, had somehow defied fate. They had not fallen to the vral after ninety years of near constant conflict, and now if Tika was right they had come out of it nightmarishly stronger than before. Tika had actually begged to be heard by his superiors, and he had never come close to that once in his life. The chua homeworld however, had fully broken him. If he had not been on the Antares, had not been humbled beforehand, he knew that he would have just clapped his hands together and said that it was delightful. As the transmission from the chua homeworld had come in, and the rescue effort had begun, he could only wallow in his own shame. He had profited directly from the chua’s suffering, the human’s suffering. Again he had tried, and failed, to convince his people, and again he had failed. Being on the Antares, for him, was torture. The lights were too dim, every human and chua looked at him with nothing more than loathing and contempt, his entire worldview had been shattered from the way he viewed the galaxy to his own place in it. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the shadow of Simmons standing over him, her voice cold with a lethal rage, hearing her voice echo in his mind, seeing the glint from flashes of light shining in her eyes. ‘We Know.’ echoed in his mind in his sleep, the voice of the terrifying Fleet Marshal transforming into the sound of a vengeful god demanding compliance and promising retribution. Then he had watched the humans and chua, who he knew were preparing to go to war with his people, celebrating the return of the shesvie. Once more he had expected them to be integrated into the Terran Front, but as soon as he learned Simmons offer to them, and what it had entailed, he had been called to his room to answer the latest message from his people. Once again, his people had doubled down, the knowledge of the enslavement of the humans had been suppressed, and once more Tika found himself, and his people, standing against a Terran Front that had every justification to declare war, to right the wrongs that had been done to them. All the while, he knew something else. He knew that, after everything he had seen, that his people would lose. The turinika had not been to war for nearly two thousand years. His people were not ready for what the Terran Front could do, and after seeing what they had done to the vral so far, he knew his people were not ready for what the Terran Front would do. He was afraid of the dark. Tika was absolutely terrified of it now, because now he knew the monsters were real. Simmons had shown him that, but the humans, the chua, they were not the monsters. He was. He had refused to be one any more. He had announced his intentions to his staff, who had squalled in rejection, all but three. Kzia was the first to step to his side, Kikumot and Tziki had stepped forward as well. Never, in his most nightmarish dreams, did he ever think that he would stand in front of Simmons and voluntarily have his plumage stripped from him, performing the act of Kasva. He never thought that his staff would have ever compiled and transmitted the data package they had sent. He had never thought that he would betray his people, if only to save them. Simmons had changed that, the humans had changed that. He knew the terror of the dark, he knew fear for his people’s safety, he understood the horror of war, and for the first time in his long life he could truly look back at every interaction he had had, with every species, that had asked for help in their struggle for survival against the vral and truly understand their fear and desperation. Now he lay, his plumage stripped from him, his station revoked, his status removed, surrounded by a people who despised him. He wouldn’t have it any other way now. He knew that they would listen now, if not to him, then to the civilian masses of the Conclave that would not stand for what they had done. He prayed to the Great Mother often now, shivering in the dim light, hoping that it would be enough. He had been wrong, and in his error he had sullied his own people. He had made them complicit. Even now, he did not know how they would ever be forgiven, because right now he wasn’t quite sure he could ever forgive himself. As he heard the broadcast calling out on the ship, announcing one minute to jump, he felt a hand on his side, and looked up to the human nurse. She was smiling at him. Not a smile born of malice, or anger, but a genuine smile. She patted his side lightly, then turned to walk out of the room. For not even the twentieth time since he had come onboard Thermopylae, he was mystified by these people.
The bridge of the Dhampir was thrumming with music and the vibrations of the reactor and Conrad leaned forward in his chair mount, his eyes almost feral as he looked at the empty space that was the mandeville point. He was positively chomping at the bit. Batz was positively roaring the lyrics to the song that was blaring over the ships speakers. Rev and Dev sat side by side in their mounts, throwing their hands up in time with the pounding bass beat of the sound. Towns was the only one besides Conrad that was quiet, both of them looking towards the mandeville point with complete impatience. Conrad felt like jumping from his skin. Fidget, well, fidgetted, holding his hands over his headset and listening as if he were trying to hear secret messages in the music. They were ready, their pulses were racing. The crew of the Dhampir was positively vibrating. Conrad looked to the shipboard clock, seeing 1330 displayed, and his head snapped to Fidget, waiting for the word. They were going to run, they were going to chase, they were going to hunt.
Vicky sat back, looking towards Jess and Kukat as they slept. Jess was in her chair, Kukat in her medical bed. Vicky glanced back at the block print on the paper and read it for the fifth time. She read the individual lines, one at a time, cursing their existence. After reading through the message printed she let her hand hang again. Kukat would be released from medical tomorrow, and both her and Jess still thought they would be boarding the Thumper to join the Vellacore once more. Jess had talked non-stop about her quarters on the Vellacore the past few days, how she just wanted to be back in her room. Kukat was equally excited. Only Vicky didn’t share their excitement. They didn’t know yet. They didn’t know about their battlefield promotions, they didn’t know about their reassignments, they didn’t know the days of them working together were functionally over. Vicky looked down at her hand holding the paper again, and felt like crumpling it. She had lost her crew. She had lost them not due to negligence, or time, she had lost them to fame. Kukat was to be promoted to ensign, and was to be the sensor officer on the destroyer Hadrian, Jess was getting the same promotion, her station on the cruiser Victorious. Vicky? She was the sparkling new commanding officer of a destroyer that was arriving at Thermopylae in two days, the Quarrel. She never wanted this. She had turned down promotion after promotion that would take her from the cockpit of the Thumper, away from Kukat, away from Jess. She wanted to serve in this war in her own way, as a pilot, with the two who had made her life so enjoyable. Now though, they were to be split up, and there was nothing she could do about it. These promotions hadn’t come from simple seniority, they had come from High Command, as had the orders. Tomorrow, when Kukat was released, they would be ushered into the hanger bay of the Barrowmore. They would all three be awarded the Star of Terra, then they would be reassigned. Tonight was the last night they would all be together. Vicky wanted to wake them up, she wanted to tell them, to give them a chance to process it. As she looked to Kukat and Jess she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She held up the letter again, reading the first few lines, then she felt the sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. She looked away, her heart panging with sadness, and stared at the wall. The clock read 1330.
Corporal Brandy was sitting on the small rack, with Janet Shippen sitting between his legs using his thighs as armrests. They were both dressed for the first time in the last few hours, both of them staring at the clock. This close to the reactors they could feel them beginning to spool up for the trip through hyperspace. When the news of the operation had come down they had elected to spend as much time together as possible, which Brandy had enjoyed to no end, and he had made sure Janet had as well. Brandy had even taken some time to reach out to his sister Victoria, a rarity for them both, as since they were children they were often barely able to speak to each other simply due to schedules. He had even told her about Janet, and although he hadn’t gotten a response from his sister yet he already knew what she would say. Janet nestled back against him, but he could feel her body was stiff. Neither of them knew what the next few months were going to hold. Their time together might be constricted, in fact, this might be the last few moments they were together for quite awhile. Brandy’s Ghouls were specialists, ship boarders. Chances are he was going to be extremely busy, as was she. He didn’t quite know how he felt about Janet, but he did know that beyond a shadow of a doubt he didn’t want to be away from her. Judging from how she was acting, she felt the same as him, conflicted about her relationship with him, but not wanting to be apart. He knew what he needed to tell her, that he had to get up, that he had to leave. The Ghouls were going to be assembled at 1345, ready to board. Her unit was going to be prepared at the same time, to begin taking on salvage. Her hands were like clamps on his legs, and from how tense she was, he wasn’t going to get up until she was good and ready. The clock on the wall switched to 1330. He stared at the clock, feeling like the clock was mocking him, when suddenly Janet leaned up and turned. Her hands took hold of his shoulders and she threw her body against his, her lips finding his own. Her arms wrapped around her frame and he tightened his grasp on her.
Simmons spread her hands over the panel in front of her, looking at the table. Seven points connected the recently reclaimed chua space to what was former Shesvie territory, and beyond that, the heart of the Vral Empire. Her lip curled in a wicked smile, On the digital display of the table the hyperspace lanes, and more importantly, the avenues of attack her fleet was preparing to take. She held out her hand, all five fingers splayed over the lanes, envisioning the war as it stood now. The war to come. Seven hyperspace lanes, seven systems, branching out into sixteen, branching out again to another twenty. The Antares herself was going to link up with the Barraki, and was set to simply plough through the next five systems to do so. Slowly she tightened her hand into a fist as she looked along the hyperspace lanes, seeing task forces lined up and ready to jump. Drones had already been sent through. The vral had forces along the border, but nothing that could withstand what was to come. Her fleet was ready. She was ready. The Seventh Orion War was at the end of it’s first month, and had taken back six systems. The first moves of Operation Naked Sun would double that and exceed it, then double it again. She had already given her speech, her task force commanders were ready. High Command had taken it’s time making this decision, and while she had railed against the delay that didn’t matter now. All along the front, individual task forces were joined into larger fleets, ready to jump into the next system and eliminate any vral defenses, but unlike now, they simply would not wait. Naked Sun was to be a lightning strike to cut off as much of the Vral Empire as possible, to deny them their own space, to imprison them on their own worlds. Task Forces were designed around three types of vessels combinations, Lighthammer Task Forces were comprised of corvettes and fast destroyers, the fastest vessels in the fleet, meant to take systems quickly, to devastate unprotected infrastructure, and to eliminate light resistance. Simply put, they were going to swarm into vral space, determine pockets of resistance, and move on. They were going to rip entire sections of vral space from them, calling in other task groups if needed. Thunder task groups were the primary capital fleets, meant to be sent into those pockets of resistance, and neutralizing them, joining with the Lighthammer groups if needed. The cruisers, carriers, battleships, they all belonged to these task forces. Her own task force was called the Nova task force, and it comprised only the Antares and it’s sizable fleet escort. Simmons glanced up at the clock, the time was 1329. She breathed in slowly, then unbidden the thought came to her head and she looked to the report from the two habitable planets that had been scanned by the drone cutters, the information having been relayed to her almost twenty minutes prior. She was not worried about the ground campaign, in fact a reserve fleet from Thermopylae would be the ones to escort the landing ships from planet to planet that her fleet left behind in it’s wake, isolated and defenseless from the wider Vral Empire. Fleet escorting was no longer her job, protecting ground invasions were no longer her job. Simmons was positively growling now, as her only job was to take her fleet and use it to rip the vral out of the stars. Still, the thought nagged at her. On both of the planets that her fleet was set to overrun, there were Vral ships in orbit. On the first, there was evidence that the Vral had been bombarding a small area of the surface, extremely similar in size to the hole that now existed on Zvitia, the planet that even now was being integrated into the Terran Front. In the second system it showed Vral ships in orbit, but whatever they were doing during the time they had taken the scans, whatever they were covering up, they didn’t seem to have gotten to it yet. On the radiological scan of the planet a massive bloom of electromagnetic energy painted a broad region of the planet blistering white. She had sent the images back to Earth, back to High Command, but no one seemed to know what was happening. The one thing that every analyst agreed on so far that was that whatever the blooms represented, it meant nothing good. She took another long look at the radiological scan, seeing the intensity of the radiation, and her lip curled in a snarl. She couldn’t think about that right now, but orders had already been given to notify her the moment that they had taken a planet that still bore the radiation signal. The vral were being damned fastidious about it though. She pulled her thoughts away from it, looking back to the hyperspace lanes. The slow grin entered her features again. She glanced at the clock. 1330. Her hand took hold of the receiver next to her station and she pressed the transmission stud, knowing that Hazard had already opened a channel to the wider fleet.
“Commence.”

[US-GA] Duplex neighbor causing a bunch of problems and just recieved a mildly threatening letter from them.
So, let's start with the basics. I've been living in this place for almost 3 years now. Prior to living here I rented from the same landlord in a nearby duplex in 2014. My neighbor is a man and his wife. They've been living there together for about 6 years with the man living there for nearly 15. We've remained cordial to this point regardless of the issues that have popped up. At least, that was the case up until recently. We share a front porch that has railing around the ledge and splitting the unit down the middle at the living room.
So, the issues(these aren't listed in any particular order).
First, Over the last 2 or so years they've taken in roughly 7 stray cats. They keep the majority of these cats outside at all times. This wasnt an issue initially as I didn't mind the little fluffballs on the porch but as times gone on it has become an inconvenience. The cats will shit on my porch and walkway leading from the porch to the gravel driveway where I park. I have stepped in cat shit no less than 4 times in the past 2 months. When I moved in I had a welcome mat at the door. Well , after the cats shit on it 4 times in one week and I couldn't get the shit off it the last time so I threw it out. I bought a hose and spray nozzle just to spray cat shit off my porch and shoes. I have tried non-toxic sprays to try and coax them away from my walkway and that hasn't worked. I have spoken directly with both the man and his wife on this topic and all I receive is gaslighting. They claim it's not cat shit, it's actually chicken, raccoon, and opossum shit. Also, these cats are not healthy. They do not look healthy, the majority of cat shit I step in is diarrhea, and their fur is in such poor shape.
Second, roaches. When I first moved in there were roaches. I contacted the landlord and he had pest control out. I also placed multiple different traps at the same time and they died down a bit. The kicker here is I asked the neighbor about the roaches and his response was, and I shit you not, "oh the woman in the other duplex(between 500-1000 feet away from current duplex) was dirty and when she moved out the roaches moved over here." that was roughly 1.5 years ago and the roaches come and go now. I place new traps every few months to try and cull the population as much as possible. I just believe that the neighbors are dirty as all hell as their porch is a mess and I wouldn't doubt the inside is just as bad or worse. Oh, and to top that off, they leave their cat food open on the porch. So, roaches, raccoons(which I've seen eating from the cat plate at night), and opossums all get their fill.
Third, and trigger warning in advance, domestic violence. I'll admit going into that I am ashamed of what I'm going to state here. The man beats his wife. I have heard them fighting on so many occasions. There was one day where I had gotten off work and started to chill and unwind preparing to go to sleep on the recliner in the living room. I heard them start fighting as they normally do. Well, this particular time they brought it out onto the porch. All I heard out my window was things breaking and multiple banging noises. Then just absolute screaming. She was screaming as if she were being murdered. Then there was silence and I heard him say " if you ever talk back to me like that again I will kill you." this is where I am ashamed. I should've called the cops. I didn't. The dude owns a gun, is an alcoholic, and is definitely unhinged enough to retaliate if I were to try and help. I am afraid that there would be retaliatory violence and it is an uncomfortable feeling that I should not feel in my own home.
Fourth, my girlfriend refuses to come over to my house anymore due to the sad looking cats/cat shit, the occasional roach that she sees, and her not wanting to be at my home alone at night(I work nights) knowing how unhinged the neighbor is. She has heard him beating his wife. She is afraid because "what am I supposed to do if he gets really drunk while you're at work and tries to come into the house."
There are a couple smaller things but this is the gist of the major issues.
So, about a year ago I messaged the LL about the cats shitting everywhere. About a week or so later there was cat litter alongside my backyard fence. I wasn't seeing cat shit everywhere anymore so I let it go.
We arrive now at last week. Got home from a long night of work, kicked my shoes off, and relaxed. Woke up for work later and started to throw my shoes on just to notice that there was cat shit on them that I had already tracked through to living room.
I was pissed and messaged the landlord "Neighbors let their cats back out again and they are shitting everywhere. Theyve already ruined the mat that was in front of the door when I moved in. There are shit stains all over the porch. I don't want to call animal control cause I doubt they'll do anything but I'm getting tired of having to either clean my shoes or dodge shit everytime I get home from work."
He didn't reply, which I expected as he rarely replies.
A couple days later I get home from work to see a note left in my door. The neighbors wife was pissed. I don't have the note on me right now so I'm going to summarize.
She claimed that the cats do not shit on my side of the house. They shit near their cars "because that's where they are used to shitting" she said that all the shit I'm claiming to be cat shit is chicken, opossum, and raccoon shit. She threatened me with this line "you told the landlord the lie about the cats trying to get us evicted so why shouldn't we tell the landlord that the house smells like weed." yes, my roommate and I smoke. Yes, it's an illegal state. She then goes on to claim "the smoke comes through our oven vent and dryer vent and my clothes reek of weed." I call bullshit because not even my clothes smell like weed. This is legitimately the only complaint I've ever heard them say about my living there. Throughout the letter she claims multiple times that I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing and I'm just trying to get them evicted.
So, this is where I stand, all I can think of is get photographic evidence of the cats shitting, but I don't really know what it's going to accomplish. The cats definitely need to be taken care of better and them shitting everywhere is not cool either. The other issues I've noted should probably be dealt with as well but domestic violence is a tricky thing to involve myself in. My Gf is mad because I haven't called the cops but I legit don't want to be shot or be evicted/arrested because I smoke weed in my home.
Afterthought: there has been a few instances of the woman being on something, not sure what, and just being a zombie on the porch. I'm playing games and see a figure on the porch. I look out there and there she stands, facing the road, arms and head down, just trying to keep her balance. That was uncomfortable to see to say the least.

Duplex neighbor causing a bunch of problems and just recieved a mildly threatening letter from them.
So, let's start with the basics. I've been living in this place for almost 3 years now. Prior to living here I rented from the same landlord in a nearby duplex in 2014. My neighbor is a man and his wife. They've been living there together for about 6 years with the man living there for nearly 15. We've remained cordial to this point regardless of the issues that have popped up. At least, that was the case up until recently. We share a front porch that has railing around the ledge and splitting the unit down the middle at the living room.
So, the issues(these aren't listed in any particular order).
First, Over the last 2 or so years they've taken in roughly 7 stray cats. They keep the majority of these cats outside at all times. This wasnt an issue initially as I didn't mind the little fluffballs on the porch but as times gone on it has become an inconvenience. The cats will shit on my porch and walkway leading from the porch to the gravel driveway where I park. I have stepped in cat shit no less than 4 times in the past 2 months. When I moved in I had a welcome mat at the door. Well , after the cats shit on it 4 times in one week and I couldn't get the shit off it the last time so I threw it out. I bought a hose and spray nozzle just to spray cat shit off my porch and shoes. I have tried non-toxic sprays to try and coax them away from my walkway and that hasn't worked. I have spoken directly with both the man and his wife on this topic and all I receive is gaslighting. They claim it's not cat shit, it's actually chicken, raccoon, and opossum shit. Also, these cats are not healthy. They do not look healthy, the majority of cat shit I step in is diarrhea, and their fur is in such poor shape.
Second, roaches. When I first moved in there were roaches. I contacted the landlord and he had pest control out. I also placed multiple different traps at the same time and they died down a bit. The kicker here is I asked the neighbor about the roaches and his response was, and I shit you not, "oh the woman in the other duplex(between 500-1000 feet away from current duplex) was dirty and when she moved out the roaches moved over here." that was roughly 1.5 years ago and the roaches come and go now. I place new traps every few months to try and cull the population as much as possible. I just believe that the neighbors are dirty as all hell as their porch is a mess and I wouldn't doubt the inside is just as bad or worse. Oh, and to top that off, they leave their cat food open on the porch. So, roaches, raccoons(which I've seen eating from the cat plate at night), and opossums all get their fill.
Third, and trigger warning in advance, domestic violence. I'll admit going into that I am ashamed of what I'm going to state here. The man beats his wife. I have heard them fighting on so many occasions. There was one day where I had gotten off work and started to chill and unwind preparing to go to sleep on the recliner in the living room. I heard them start fighting as they normally do. Well, this particular time they brought it out onto the porch. All I heard out my window was things breaking and multiple banging noises. Then just absolute screaming. She was screaming as if she were being murdered. Then there was silence and I heard him say " if you ever talk back to me like that again I will kill you." this is where I am ashamed. I should've called the cops. I didn't. The dude owns a gun, is an alcoholic, and is definitely unhinged enough to retaliate if I were to try and help. I am afraid that there would be retaliatory violence and it is an uncomfortable feeling that I should not feel in my own home.
Fourth, my girlfriend refuses to come over to my house anymore due to the sad looking cats/cat shit, the occasional roach that she sees, and her not wanting to be at my home alone at night(I work nights) knowing how unhinged the neighbor is. She has heard him beating his wife. She is afraid because "what am I supposed to do if he gets really drunk while you're at work and tries to come into the house."
There are a couple smaller things but this is the gist of the major issues.
So, about a year ago I messaged the LL about the cats shitting everywhere. About a week or so later there was cat litter alongside my backyard fence. I wasn't seeing cat shit everywhere anymore so I let it go.
We arrive now at last week. Got home from a long night of work, kicked my shoes off, and relaxed. Woke up for work later and started to throw my shoes on just to notice that there was cat shit on them that I had already tracked through to living room.
I was pissed and messaged the landlord "Neighbors let their cats back out again and they are shitting everywhere. Theyve already ruined the mat that was in front of the door when I moved in. There are shit stains all over the porch. I don't want to call animal control cause I doubt they'll do anything but I'm getting tired of having to either clean my shoes or dodge shit everytime I get home from work."
He didn't reply, which I expected as he rarely replies.
A couple days later I get home from work to see a note left in my door. The neighbors wife was pissed. I don't have the note on me right now so I'm going to summarize.
She claimed that the cats do not shit on my side of the house. They shit near their cars "because that's where they are used to shitting" she said that all the shit I'm claiming to be cat shit is chicken, opossum, and raccoon shit. She threatened me with this line "you told the landlord the lie about the cats trying to get us evicted so why shouldn't we tell the landlord that the house smells like weed." yes, my roommate and I smoke. Yes, it's an illegal state. She then goes on to claim "the smoke comes through our oven vent and dryer vent and my clothes reek of weed." I call bullshit because not even my clothes smell like weed. This is legitimately the only complaint I've ever heard them say about my living there. Throughout the letter she claims multiple times that I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing and I'm just trying to get them evicted.
So, this is where I stand, all I can think of is get photographic evidence of the cats shitting, but I don't really know what it's going to accomplish. The cats definitely need to be taken care of better and them shitting everywhere is not cool either. The other issues I've noted should probably be dealt with as well but domestic violence is a tricky thing to involve myself in. My Gf is mad because I haven't called the cops but I legit don't want to be shot or be evicted/arrested because I smoke weed in my home.
Afterthought: there has been a few instances of the woman being on something, not sure what, and just being a zombie on the porch. I'm playing games and see a figure on the porch. I look out there and there she stands, facing the road, arms and head down, just trying to keep her balance. That was uncomfortable to see to say the least.

So, let's start with the basics. I've been living in this place for almost 3 years now. Prior to living here I rented from the same landlord in a nearby duplex in 2014. My neighbor is a man and his wife. They've been living there together for about 6 years with the man living there for nearly 15. We've remained cordial to this point regardless of the issues that have popped up. At least, that was the case up until recently. We share a front porch that has railing around the ledge and splitting the unit down the middle at the living room.
So, the issues(these aren't listed in any particular order).
First, Over the last 2 or so years they've taken in roughly 7 stray cats. They keep the majority of these cats outside at all times. This wasnt an issue initially as I didn't mind the little fluffballs on the porch but as times gone on it has become an inconvenience. The cats will shit on my porch and walkway leading from the porch to the gravel driveway where I park. I have stepped in cat shit no less than 4 times in the past 2 months. When I moved in I had a welcome mat at the door. Well , after the cats shit on it 4 times in one week and I couldn't get the shit off it the last time so I threw it out. I bought a hose and spray nozzle just to spray cat shit off my porch and shoes. I have tried non-toxic sprays to try and coax them away from my walkway and that hasn't worked. I have spoken directly with both the man and his wife on this topic and all I receive is gaslighting. They claim it's not cat shit, it's actually chicken, raccoon, and opossum shit. Also, these cats are not healthy. They do not look healthy, the majority of cat shit I step in is diarrhea, and their fur is in such poor shape.
Second, roaches. When I first moved in there were roaches. I contacted the landlord and he had pest control out. I also placed multiple different traps at the same time and they died down a bit. The kicker here is I asked the neighbor about the roaches and his response was, and I shit you not, "oh the woman in the other duplex(between 500-1000 feet away from current duplex) was dirty and when she moved out the roaches moved over here." that was roughly 1.5 years ago and the roaches come and go now. I place new traps every few months to try and cull the population as much as possible. I just believe that the neighbors are dirty as all hell as their porch is a mess and I wouldn't doubt the inside is just as bad or worse. Oh, and to top that off, they leave their cat food open on the porch. So, roaches, raccoons(which I've seen eating from the cat plate at night), and opossums all get their fill.
Third, and trigger warning in advance, domestic violence. I'll admit going into that I am ashamed of what I'm going to state here. The man beats his wife. I have heard them fighting on so many occasions. There was one day where I had gotten off work and started to chill and unwind preparing to go to sleep on the recliner in the living room. I heard them start fighting as they normally do. Well, this particular time they brought it out onto the porch. All I heard out my window was things breaking and multiple banging noises. Then just absolute screaming. She was screaming as if she were being murdered. Then there was silence and I heard him say " if you ever talk back to me like that again I will kill you." this is where I am ashamed. I should've called the cops. I didn't. The dude owns a gun, is an alcoholic, and is definitely unhinged enough to retaliate if I were to try and help. I am afraid that there would be retaliatory violence and it is an uncomfortable feeling that I should not feel in my own home.
Fourth, my girlfriend refuses to come over to my house anymore due to the sad looking cats/cat shit, the occasional roach that she sees, and her not wanting to be at my home alone at night(I work nights) knowing how unhinged the neighbor is. She has heard him beating his wife. She is afraid because "what am I supposed to do if he gets really drunk while you're at work and tries to come into the house."
There are a couple smaller things but this is the gist of the major issues.
So, about a year ago I messaged the LL about the cats shitting everywhere. About a week or so later there was cat litter alongside my backyard fence. I wasn't seeing cat shit everywhere anymore so I let it go.
We arrive now at last week. Got home from a long night of work, kicked my shoes off, and relaxed. Woke up for work later and started to throw my shoes on just to notice that there was cat shit on them that I had already tracked through to living room.
I was pissed and messaged the landlord "Neighbors let their cats back out again and they are shitting everywhere. Theyve already ruined the mat that was in front of the door when I moved in. There are shit stains all over the porch. I don't want to call animal control cause I doubt they'll do anything but I'm getting tired of having to either clean my shoes or dodge shit everytime I get home from work."
He didn't reply, which I expected as he rarely replies.
A couple days later I get home from work to see a note left in my door. The neighbors wife was pissed. I don't have the note on me right now so I'm going to summarize.
She claimed that the cats do not shit on my side of the house. They shit near their cars "because that's where they are used to shitting" she said that all the shit I'm claiming to be cat shit is chicken, opossum, and raccoon shit. She threatened me with this line "you told the landlord the lie about the cats trying to get us evicted so why shouldn't we tell the landlord that the house smells like weed." yes, my roommate and I smoke. Yes, it's an illegal state. She then goes on to claim "the smoke comes through our oven vent and dryer vent and my clothes reek of weed." I call bullshit because not even my clothes smell like weed. This is legitimately the only complaint I've ever heard them say about my living there. Throughout the letter she claims multiple times that I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing and I'm just trying to get them evicted.
So, this is where I stand, all I can think of is get photographic evidence of the cats shitting, but I don't really know what it's going to accomplish. The cats definitely need to be taken care of better and them shitting everywhere is not cool either. The other issues I've noted should probably be dealt with as well but domestic violence is a tricky thing to involve myself in. My Gf is mad because I haven't called the cops but I legit don't want to be shot or be evicted/arrested because I smoke weed in my home.
Afterthought: there has been a few instances of the woman being on something, not sure what, and just being a zombie on the porch. I'm playing games and see a figure on the porch. I look out there and there she stands, facing the road, arms and head down, just trying to keep her balance. That was uncomfortable to see to say the least.

• (Short story time)

Might be hard to believe, but growing up I had never played a Zelda game (yes people like me exist haha) so I figured better to start late than never. I had recently found and dusted off my old 3DS I found in the back of the closet and took the opportunity to look at old games I missed out on growing up. As I combed through the 3DS' most popular games and people's recommendations, one that kept sticking out was "Ocarina of Time 3D", universally praised and ranked number one on a lot of people's lists. So as someone 26+ years late to the party, I thought I'd finally play my first Zelda game.
So far, I'm loving the game. It's fun and charming, the atmosphere is so nice and immersive, and I finally discovered all the iconic music and sound effects I've heard for YEARS in other stuff LOL. Currently I'm still early on in the game, just landed into the Royal Family's Tomb in Kakariko Village.

• (Main Topic - Me getting stuck)

I've got a huge question though, is the game supposed to be frustrating and hard to follow? I'm no stranger to these types of games and am used to exploring, backtracking and traveling, but I kept getting stuck ALOT.
In the beginning of the game at Kokiri village, I got stuck immediately. I was told to go find a "Sword and Shield" before I could see the great deku tree. So I went to the shop and bought a shield, and then thought "Well they got a stick for sale in here, so maybe that's the make shift sword for now?" but obviously that wasn't it. After running around the village more, I found the entrance to the The Lost woods. Being such a grand opening of an entrance I thought I was supposed to go in there to find a sword. After running around for 15 more minutes and getting lost over and over I realized this wasn't it either. So after running around the village more I found the crawlspace to learn how to dodge the moving boulder and found nothing again? But I figured that couldn't be it so I keep running around in circles and missed the chest THREE times because of the game's camera controls (maybe this is just a 3ds version issue?). Was I supposed to have a hard time finding the first sword? No one told me it would be at the back of town, behind a small crawlspace, past a moving boulder. The only clue I got was "You need a sword and shield to pass through here". I thought it honestly seemed more like a place to find a secret item, rather than an important story piece?
When I progressed to Hyrule Castle to try and see the princess, I got stuck again. During the portion where you have to sneak past the guards, I found the vines growing on the side of the wall. And after sneaking past to the side of the castle, I found an old guy sleeping? He wouldn't wake up no matter how many times I talked to him and I couldn't figure out what to do. So I thought I missed something and went back to town. When I couldn't find anything different in town I went back to the castle and noticed there was a girl named Malon standing next to the vines now. I talked to her and she said her dad fell asleep on his way to the castle during a delivery and asked if I could "wake him up". I thought "ah, now that I've talked to this girl I can wake up that guy". I did think it was really weird how she wasn't there before hand though, shouldn't she have been there the first time I tried to sneak in? Anyway I snuck to the side of the castle again and the guy WOULDN'T WAKE UP. I was super confused why he wouldn't wake up after I talked to Malon. After running around for 10 minutes and finding nothing, I decided to look up a guide. It turns out Malon gives you an egg, but only after you talk to her TWICE. She only gives you the important item you need if you speak to her again, after she finishes talking the first time?? Wouldn't it make more sense for her to say "hey can you wake up my dad if you find him? Also here is an egg" all in one? Why would I need to talk to her two times in a row for the progression item I need? Anyway, I got the egg and snuck past the guards again and when I made it to her dad it hatched into a chicken. I'm going to be real here, I got stuck again lol. I thought I would just talk to Malon's sleeping dad and he would finally wake up and I would give him a chicken as a gift? I knew chickens were animals in Zelda (and that you're never supposed to attack one) but it didn't even occur to me that the chicken in my inventory was an item to be equipped and used to wake up Malon's dad. I had to look at another guide for that one.
My third time getting stuck was after I talked to Zelda for the first time. After I talked to Zelda for the first time, I got to see the cool cutscene and spy on Ganon in the window. Afterwards, I get the Princess note thing and Zelda stops talking to me (I'm free to move around). At this point, I had been playing for over 2 hours so I saved and closed the game. When I came back to it later in the day, I was SUPER CONFUSED why I was back in Kokiri village. After looking it up, I get sent back there every time I save and close the game unless it's a dungeon?? Shouldn't that be a warning when you save?? "Warning, closing your game will have you awake in your bed in Kokiri village the next time you continue". I was really frustrated that I had to run back to Hyrule on foot, sneak past all the guards AGAIN, and then when I talked to Zelda I had to watch the cutscene AGAIN. It only took like 17 minutes, so it wasn't a huge deal but it was really frustrating how saving and closing the game made me lose progress.
The most recent time I got stuck was at the graveyard in Kakariko Village. After entering Kakariko village, I couldn't find anything to do since I couldn't progress into the mountain without the King's permission. I kept hearing about the graveyard though, so I figured that's where I should go next. I found the graveyard at the edge of town and read the gravestones one by one. When I got to the royal family's tomb some ghost popped out and I defeated them. The ghost told me some things and then disappeared afterwards. After that, I thought I was done in the graveyard, no chests, no branching paths, just the graveyard tour which I assumed was a minigame to get some rupees?. My train of thought was, okay so now maybe the king will be in town and I need to find him so he will give me permission to enter the mountain, I'll probably need to play my ocarina for him since Impa said the song will give me credibility for knowing the royal family. Guess who was wrong lol. I spent 30 minutes running around town checking every nook and cranny for something that would progress me forward. I gave up and looked at a guide again. Turns out I needed to play my ocarina at the royal family tomb to progress forward. Was I supposed to know to do that??? Did I miss some dialog at some point that tells me if I see a triforce symbol to play my ocarina on it? No one told me to do that. It seemed obvious when I thought about it, but there wasn't any tutorial or hints from Navi about it.

• (Conclusion)

Am I just incompetent?? Is progression in OOT supposed to be smooth sailing and I'm just fumbling the bag? I'm genuinely confused why I got stuck so many times this early on in the game. It's just really frustrating and disrupts the flow of what would other wise seem like a great story. Don't get me wrong, I'm going to keep playing, I love the gameplay and the visuals so far, plus it's kind of exciting since it's my first Zelda game. But man, is it supposed to be this frustrating for me? Are all Zelda games like this? Or is this just how games were in 1998? Am I just bad at this game? Lol

I never really have done a “review” so to speak of a film, but after sitting through to ‘properly’ watch my favourite Saw for a first tonight I really have to praise every little bit about it. What Leigh and James et al did with such a tiny budget is nothing short of phenomenal.
A big criticism of the first film is about its pacing, with many calling it a bit more “boring” than the instalments to follow. However, I think Saw 1 is excellent at combining its horrific trap plot and the detective story into one with such an intimate set of characters you can invest in. The later films build a bigger and bigger gap between the trap plot and the ‘police’ segments of the film, with the gore being the main focus. But in Saw, they’re practically a part of the bathroom trap. It helps that Tapp and Sing are written as close to Gordon already, more distanced from the main police force, allowing the pursuit of Gordon and the hunt for Jigsaw to be far more personal and unique and less bland with characters who are actually associated with each other. Saw 1 feels like one long story that puts all its pieces together, rather than two separate plots that only join together come the ending. It’s thus very consistent and developed if you can involve yourself.
The film’s tiny budget also means that there is a cut back on how much gore they actually managed to get in there, and I feel this helps a lot. While other films like X have proven that high budget gore does not have to be the highlight of the film, along with the ‘soap opera’ sort of plot that runs through all the films, I think Saw’s mystery of the Jigsaw killer makes the investment in the film far greater and interesting than that of just watching it for repetitive violence. The story itself I found to have good pacing, with the flashbacks, though slightly repetitive at times (cough car park scene cough) and the editing being slightly questionable, feeling necessary and a healthy addition to the film’s developing plot if you can get yourself involved with it. Simply put, there’s no real “filler” in the film, with even the more laid back scenes still fitting the topic and thus keeping you both interested and on-edge, as you have zero idea what to believe on a first watch; it’s also nice to look back on how the different characters acted and thought once you do know the full lore behind the film.
The actors brought so much energy to the film, and were 100% a big part of its success and legacy. Though questionable at times, the bond between Lawrence and Adam which take up a bulk of the film’s 103 minute run time never manages to fall flat, with their actual journey and development being very powerful as we are stuck with them traversing through this escape room. Once we find more about both of them, we can only feel more emotion for the situations they’re in. Others, like Glover, do an amazing and underrated job at ensuring their key characters help develop the story and make it believable. Tapp is both a unique and a very human character, and his descent into madness and obsession is portrayed excellently as he stalks Gordon like a lunatic. Emerson as Zep is also key, with him playing the film’s big bad until the ending. The orderly definitely comes across as a psychopath, and the horror of the scenes with Diana and Addison really help add to the mystery and to the horror of the film and Jigsaw. Side note: I love the more classic horror scenes, like Zep in the closet and Adam’s apartment search - they’re super well done and give the film such a great variation on top of its torture + body horror.
Such a story for me, with there being more of an emphasis on Jigsaw’s motive, and why he targets people (as demonstrated with the film’s characters) and traps just being his symbolic method make the movie far more powerful. While it’s cool to see gore and effects from such a bold film, along with the thrill, I feel it’s so much more rewarding when it comes from a story you’ve followed and been a part of. After all, it is the flipping of what we know and the story finally being pieced together with the revelation of Jigsaw, on top of the filmmaking, that make the ending scene one of the best in movie history; it’s not the iconic shots alone that make the scene so great, it’s the build up and our minds being freaking blown that do as well - it sends a chill down your spine after such a rollercoaster of a movie, and it’s rewarding to discover it in such an epic way.
As messy as this analysis is, I really just wanted to get my love for this film out of my system. I love Saw for both the engaging pursuit of the mysterious Jigsaw killer and the escape room that develops throughout the film all falling into one intimate, entertaining and re-watchable classic. It’s easily my favourite horror and is one of my favourite films of all time, defying the “torture porn” label and showing just how unique and entertaining the Saw franchise can be at heart.

That’s all it was. A game.
Something my friends and I used to play during the summer when we had nothing better to do. I never expected that it would get so out of hand.
I never expected it to come back long after recovery.
To anyone reading, please don’t do what I did.
I’m putting this out there to warn people.
On that warm summer evening, we played the role of Pandora.
Except, the monsters we released were far worse than what’s told in stories.
Because stories end.
And this doesn’t.
I still remember the date. July 16, 2013. I was an upcoming senior in high school while the others were getting prepared for their freshman year of college, raving on about their majors, life plans, dorms, you get the point. The summer had been bittersweet as those months would be the last I’d see them for a while. Because of this, Anthony, Lola, Eliza, and I would spend the bulk of our time together going to festivals and various camping trips, trying to make the most out of the summer while we could. On that day, the day I wish I could forget, Eliza had run late to one of our hangouts at my place. This was odd since as an Ivy league student, she was usually early or right on time to these kind of things. Half past three, we heard her knocking on my door rapidly, which was also out of character considering that she was usually the calm one in our group. A bit worried, I hurried down the stairs with Anthony and Lola following close behind, expecting Eliza to be in hysterics due to her frantic behavior. When I opened the door, however, there she was with a bright smile on her face, her red hair getting in the way of her eyes, which were a dark green shade. She pushed her hair out of her face with one hand and held a brown box in the other, and she was bouncing up and down as she usually does when she’s about to talk about something exciting.
“You’ll never believe what I found.” Eliza’s voice could barely hold her impatience as she stepped inside and kicked her shoes off once she crossed over my threshold.
“What’s up with you today?” Anthony questioned, looking more confused than concerned now.
“I’ll show you guys in a minute. Can we go up to your room, Felix?” Eliza looked over at me with her trademark smile, knowing damn well we were all too curious to just leave that box unopened. Without a word, I led the group up to my room and shut the door after everyone had walked in. Anthony took his usual spot on my beanbag and unzipped his hoodie, which had the MSM logo sprawled across the front in big red letters. He adjusted his dark rimmed glasses and took on his usual stoic expression. Lola wore a dark blue FIT shirt, which she revealed more of when she moved her locs over her shoulder as she sat on my desk chair and wheeled over to us. As she did, the various necklaces she wore clinked against each other. Eliza herself was the smartest out of the group, and probably in the whole school as well. She had gotten accepted into multiple prestigious schools, but ultimately settled for Harvard to pursue a degree in some obscure philanthropic career. Unlike Anthony and Lola, Eliza wore her regular outfit –usually a white tank top and jeans– and sat on my bed with the box in her lap. I took a seat next to her to get a closer look.
“So what’d you find?” The others moved closer.
“Something we probably haven’t thought about for a really long time. Do you guys remember that one game we used to play in middle school? The one we made after Felix joined our class?” Eliza looked at our puzzled faces to see if we had connected the dots, but her clue didn’t seem to strike any of us with familiarity.
“After Felix joined? Didn’t we just hang out or something that weekend?” Anthony questioned.
“We did, but there was something else,” Eliza raised an eyebrow, “you guys seriously don’t remember?”
At that moment, I saw Lola’s eyes light up and a thin smile grew on her lips, something she always did whenever she was able to figure something out.
“You mean that little map game we played? Where we would go out to the woods and explore?”
Both Anthony and I seemed to have remembered as well with the mention of a ‘map game.’ I chimed in, “ yeah I remember! Every once in a while when we were all bored, we’d pick a random spot on a map to go to and explore there for a bit, right? When did we stop doing that anyways? I remember really enjoying it.”
“Well life happens,” Eliza responded to me, “but I was thinking of things to do for the rest of the summer when I suddenly remembered that game! That’s why I was so late for our meetup today, I was looking through my attic for this.” Eliza shook the box slightly and a couple things clattered around inside.
“There’s no way.” Anthony sounded like he was in disbelief.
“You mean…?” Lola sat forward in the chair. Eliza smirked, her adventurous nature creeping out as realization swept over us like a wave.
“Mhm! I found the map we used to use as well as the things we collected from our little escapades.” With that, Eliza opened the box, revealing a folded piece of paper and various trinkets scattered over the bottom of the capsule. Lola squealed with excitement and immediately snatched the box from Eliza, who simply chuckled and leaned back on the bed.
“No way! Everything’s still in here!” Lola digged through the box and placed whatever objects she found across the blanket. Anthony got up and sat at the foot of my bed, to observe our findings more closely. There was a piece of some clay pottery, some rusty springs and scraps of metal, an old digital camera, and some other random stuff I can’t recall to memory right now. Anthony picked up a spring and turned it in his palm.
“Shit man, this is from that abandoned junkyard we found in 8th grade…that feels like such a long time ago now.”
I examined the piece of pottery with Eliza looking over my shoulder. Lola picked up the digital camera.
“Do you remember where this came from?” I turned to Eliza and held up my discovery.
“No clue,” she shrugged. It must have been a while ago if even she didn’t remember. I turned the piece over and grew curious when I saw weird symbols inscribed on the inside of it. I squinted a bit, trying to discern some sort of pattern within the scribbles.
I turned to Eliza again, “hey, what do you think-”
“OH MY GOD GUYS IT STILL WORKS!” Lola’s voice went up a whole octave as she motioned to us.
The rest of us looked up as she turned the camera to face us. There were various photos we went through. All of us at lakes, museums, exploring the woods; everything we did from 7th grade until my freshman year seemed to be documented. The last photo was arguable the best and msot bittersweet. It was a picture of the whole group from a while ago. We were sitting at Eliza’s dinner table with a giant chocolate cake on the middle of it adorned with two candles shaped like the numbers one and five. Eliza was talking to me in the photo. Her hair was even more red at the time and she wore it in a braid. I looked about the same in the photo as I did then, with light brown hair, blue eyes, and freckles scattered all over my body and face. I was smiling sheepishly at Eliza. I now knew why Anthony said it was obvious I had a crush on her in 8th grade. Lola went through the most changes out of all of us. At the time in the photo, she had her hair straightened and side-swept, with a bright pink streak in her bangs. She wore clunky jewlery and a frilly skirt underneath a long tank top, leaning over the table to cut another slice of cake. All of us had birthday hats on except for Anthony, who kept his sitting on the table. He held up a peace sign staring straight into the camera with a stoic expression. He looked like a statue compared to the rest of us, who were laughing and smiling. You could tell he was having fun, though.
“Well don’t you look like a ray of sunshine,” Lola snickered as Anthony shot her a dirty look.
“At least I didn’t go through some weird scene phase in freshman year,” He smiled and watched Lola’s face, knowing she was blushing despite her dark skin which made it practically invisible. I let a laugh slip out, but quickly stifled it knowing that if I kept going it would mean death. Lola side-eyed me and continued, “I was using my creative liberty to experiment with my options as an artist,” she said with an overly-posh accent that made Eliza laugh.
“Yeah Anthony, don’t be such a downer,” Eliza teased. Anthony simply rolled his eyes and suppressed a smile to pretend like he was mad at all of us. He looked into the box and picked up the paper we left, unfolding it with a hint of excitement and curiosity. When he looked at it, only two words came out of his mouth.
“Holy shit.”
“What, what is it?” Lola tried to look at the other side of the paper, but Anthony quickly held it out of her view.
“What if I didn’t want to show you?” A smile crept onto his face. This was one of those rare moments where he’d be in the moos to joke around with us.
“Don’t be a dick bro,” I said, laughing as I went to grab for the paper. Anthony just held it up in the air and pushed me off of him and I landed on my floor. While he was distracted, though, Eliza took her chance and snatched the paper right out of his hand.
“You boys need to learn to be nice,” she warned in her jokingly stern voice as she unfolded the paper and spread it out onto my bed. We all leaned over to look.
It was a map of a couple towns including ours. There were around ten small star stickers placed on different areas on the map near the streets the four of us lived in. On the top of the map, a couple words were scrawled in black sharpie; “Pick a Place!” I could see everyone’s faces light up.
“Oh my god it’s our map!” Lola shouted and pointed to one of the stars near her street, “this was where we found that old junkyard right?”
Eliza smiled, “I remember that. It feels like such a long time ago now.” She pointed to another star, “and this is where we found that lake we made a hideout of. I still remember swimming in there in 8th grade…”
The four of us reminisced for a while, talking about where we had gone and what we did there, and how impressive it was that we didn’t get tetanus from that junkyard. After nearly an hour of conversation, Eliza asked something that made all of us stop.
“So how about it guys? Do you want to do one last round before the summer ends?”
The rest of us looked around at each other. It was clear we all wanted to do it. Eliza seemed to catch on and she nodded.
“Who wants to pick where we go?”
“How about you do the honors?” Lola suggested, motioning towards the map. “You’re the one that brought this stuff in anyways.”
Eliza raised her eyebrow but didn’t object. Without a word, she examined the map for a few minutes, then placed her finger on one spot a bit far from my house.
“How about here?”
“You think we can make it that far?” Anthony asked.
“Well, we can drive now so why not?”
“You sure there’s some type of trail we can drive on? That spot looks pretty deep in the woods”
“We can find a path to drive on for a bit then walk the rest of the way. C’mon guys, this is probably our last chance to do something like this! Felix, you can drive right?”
Eliza and the rest turned to me with a hopeful expression. I had to comply.
“Sure. No big deal, right?”
All three of them cheered and high fived each other, looking pretty excited to go on one last adventure.
“So when do we leave?” I questioned.
Eliza flashed that smile again, “right now.”
“Right now?!”
“Hell yeah,” Lola chimed in. “It shouldn’t take that long, right?”
“I guess…” Even then I felt uneasy about the whole thing. I didn’t feel prepared enough to go on some random trip into the woods. I needed to pack food, water, flashlights, I had no idea how long this was going to take. Little did I know that those things would be the least of my worries a couple hours from then. I wish I could go back and convince my 17-year-old self that it wasn’t worth it, that I should just convince my friends to stay and talk for the rest of the day. I wish Eliza had never remembered that stupid game. In a way, I’m almost mad at her for what happened, but I know it wasn’t anyones fault. We just wanted to have fun. I wish we could’ve just had fun. But God had a different plan for us. One that made me think Satan himself devised it instead. On July 16, 2013, Anthony He, Lola Smith, Eliza Landserson, and Felix Johanson went on an adventure that none of them were ready for.
Author's Note:
If you just read all of that then thank you so so so much for doing so! I'm a rookie writer, so feel free to comment any constructive criticism you might have if you have actual writing experience! This is the first silly little story I'm posting here, so I hope you enjoyed :)

Abstract
The following is derived as the formula for the Egyptian cosmos:

• 𓊖 = Ⓣ^C / (𓅃⋅𓃀)

Verified by the value of the earth’s 🌍 circumference reported to Aristotle (2280A), by “mathematicians“, a science Aristotle says was invented in Egypt; experimentally calculated by Eratosthenes (2210A); decoded as 360 x 1111 stades by Warren (42A); EAN decoded as omicron (ομικρον) [360] x iota (ιωτα) [1111] by Thims (7 Feb A68); and HieroTypes reduced as: ◯^W ⋅ X = ⨂ » 𓊖 by Thims (18 May A69).
Overview
The following is:

#	Circumference 🌍	Person
1.	τετταράκοντα [40] μυριάδας [10,000]	Aristotle (2280A)
2.	40 x 10,000
3.	M x 𓂭
4.	Δ x 𓆐
	Y x 𓆼
5.	400,000 stadia
6.	400,000 🏟️
7.	400,000 [600 👣]
8.	400,000 [600 𓃀]
9.	400,000 [X𓃀]
10.	252,000 stades	Eratosthenes (2210A)
11.	360 x 1,111 stades	Warren (42A)
12.	399,960 stades	Warren (42A)
13.	[ομικρον] x [ιωτα]	Thims (7 Feb A68)
14.	OW x IW x [X𓃀]
15.	◯W x 𓅃W x [X𓃀]
16.	◯W⋅𓅃W⋅[X𓃀]
17.	𓊖⋅𓅃⋅𓃀	Thims (18 May A69)
18.	239,976,000 feet	Egyptians (Aristotle)
19.	151,200,000 feet	Eratosthenes
20.	131,482,560 feet	Modern value

Whence, we have:

• Ⓣ^C = 𓊖⋅𓅃⋅𓃀

Dividing through, we get:

• 𓊖 = Ⓣ^C / (𓅃⋅𓃀)

A ΕΑΝ formula for the Egyptian cosmos (κοσμος) [600]!
Circle-X symbol 𓊖 [O49]?
In step #17, I have merged omicron (ομικρον) [360] symbol ◯ with the chi (X) = 600 symbol, to make the circle-X (⨂) symbol 𓊖 [O49], which is in the names of many Egyptian city or nome names, e.g. Heliopolis, as follows:

• ◯^W ⋅ X = ⨂ » 𓊖
• 360 ⋅ 600 = ⨂ » 𓊖
• 216,000 = ⨂ » 𓊖

In other words, I am conjecturing that the chi X is merged into or inside of the ◯ circle, to form, similar to what Plato speaks about, the Egyptian circle-X or cosmos birth symbol 𓊖 [O49].
We also note:

• 216,000 = ⨂ » 𓊖
• 216,000 = 216 ⋅ 1,000
• 216,000 = 216 ⋅ 𓆼
• 216,000 = {επιμιχια} ⋅ 1,000

Where epimixia {επιμιχια} [216] meaning: “intercourse“ (Barry, A44) or “admixture”, which seems to make sense, meaning that the phoenix 🐦‍🔥 egg 🥚, formed by Ptah, had to have been made or seeded by “intercourse”, meaning the new cosmos was born from an admixture of sexual genomes 🧬, or something along these lines.
Keys

• Ⓣ^C = circumference of earth 🌍 on an Egypto-Greek T-O map.
• W (superscript) means “word value”, e.g. ◯^W = 360, the word value of omicron (ομικρον), or 𓅃^{W =} 1111, the word value of iota (ιωτα).
• Stadion (ΣΤΑΔΙΟΝ) {neutral} or stadia (ΣΤΑΔΙΑ) {genitive} = 600 feet 👣, the length of one Greek stadium.
• 🏟️ = stadium emoji; used as icon for the Greek stadia.
• 𓆼 = 1,000 in Egyptian numerals.
• 𓂭 = 10,000 in Egyptian numerals.
• 𓆐 = 100,000 in Egyptian numerals.
• Δ = 4 in Greek numerals.
• M = 40 in Greek numerals.
• Y = 400 in Greek numerals.
• X = Chi, 24th letter, letter value: 600.
• x = multiplication symbol.
• (dot) ⋅ = alternative multiplication symbol.
• 𓃀 [D58] = one foot 🦶or 16 digits on the Cubit.
• 𓅃 [G5] = Horus falcon, 10th unit on most Cubit rules, and letter-number 10 (𐤉) on the Phoenician alphabet; used as pre-Iota (I) LunarScript symbol, i.e. 10th Greek letter.

Quotes

“Mathematicians who calculate the size of the earth's 🌍 circumference Ⓣ arrive at the figure 400,000 stades.”
— Aristotle (2280A/-325), On the Heavens (Περί Ουρανού) (translator: J.L. Stocks) (§2.14:298a15)

Posts

• 111 ordering of the alphabet
• Omicron [360] ◯ x iota [1111] = T-O map Ⓣ circumference [400,000]!
• Type (etymology): the “form” of a letter
• Stadium 🏟️, from Greek stadion (σταδιον) [635], secret name: sthenaros (σθεναρος), meaning: strong, mighty; robust; intense violent. Length: 600 Greek feet, based on chi (χ), value: 600, secret name: cosmos (κοσμος). Earth 🌎 circumference = 400,000 stadiums 🏟️ (Aristotle, 435A/22870A)

References

• Aristotle (2280A/-325). On the Heavens (Περί Ουρανού) (translator: J.L. Stocks) (§2.14:298a15). Publisher.
• Warren, Charles. (42A/1913), The Early Weights and Measures of Mankind (pgs. 48-49). Publisher.

I know that there are some great liberal thinkers like: Locke, JSM, Rawls etc. Not taking anything away from them, they are great.
But, I have always felt envious and some level of annoyance when people talk about individuals in history that fought and died for their cause.
We do not have a "cool" figure like Che Guevara that we could rally behind and use as a symbol like how leftist and Communists have, do we have a figure we could use as such?
I feel that giving a human face to a political movement is super helpful to promote the ideology. Are there any figures that I am forgetting?
The best I could come up with is one of the US Founding fathers. But, I don't feel like they would be universally admired.

I have been obsessed with iwav since I was a kid. While discussing it with my best friend we were both unsure if the hallucination of Lestat had a bird or a bat crawl from the slit in his throat. (We are both blind, okay?)
Personally I think a bird would have been much cooler and more symbolic.
In the movie, when Louis and Claudia are finally free from Lestat (after murdering him) they talk about what they wish to do with their pet bird. (A canary I believe.) They intend to release it before they leave just before the ghoulish Lestat shows up.
I think if they would have had a bird escaping Lestat's throat instead of a bat it would have been a decent nod to the og movie, and maybe a good symbolic symbol that even though they thought they had achieved freedom, Lestat was still there. Caging them much like the bird they intended to release. (Did they release it? No idea. Maybe Lestat ate it in spite.) Maybe they didn't make it a bird because of the lack of one in the show, but still it would have been a cool Easter egg for us who watched the movie a million times.
I just haven't seen much about it anywhere online and wonder what other people think about the scene.

Welcome y'all!
I'll be your host for the evening, coming to you live and direct from picturesque Uptown, Chicago. This will be my third Billy setlist thread and, while I've mostly gotten the hang of it, I may need some help on identifying songs (especially instrumentals). Thanks in advance for being awesome.
\ Ticketed Show Time : 7:30 MDT / Expected Show Time: Round About Eight, MDT /
Stream Via Nugs.net Subscription
Check Ins: Austin, TX; Minnesota, Born and Raised; The Pit; Auburn, AL; New Jersey; Dang Ol' Seattle, WA; Utah; Detroit; Charlotte; Indy, With Colorado Besties At The Show; Boulder, CO; AC, NJ; Kentucky Shows Up Together (West, Central and Orchard Grass Hills); Kensington, MD; Frederick, MD; Northern Kentucky; Middle Tennessee; Kauai; Austin; Hortonville, WI; Savannah, GA; Bradenton, Florida; South Jersey; Central PA; Portland; OR; Greensboro, NC; East Tennessee; Dayton, OH; Union, NJ; Central Kentucky: South Florida; Lisle, IL; Chicago, IL
Fit Check:
Strings - Rocking mustard and brown with a casual flair and a nice gold watch Update: Added a Tigers hat and a button down
Failing -Western work clothes with embellishment
Royal - Psychedelic casanova in a supremely cool tie dye blazer
Jarrod - Simple, understated, comfortable
Alex - New England dock chic
Bonus: Andy Hall - Max Headroom in a Canadian Tuxedo
Set One: (8:03pm MDT - 9:14pm MDT)
I'm Still Here ->
Everything's The Same
Watch It Fall ->
Nellie Kane
This Old World
The Train That Carried My Girl From Town
Black Mountain Rag
Ain't Nothing To Me
Be Your Man
Thirst Mutilator ->
Cabin Song
Summertime
Must Be Seven ->
Meet Me At The Creek
Set Two: (9:36pm MDT - 10:51pm MDT)
Secrets
California Sober
Charlie's Birthday Breakdown
Harbour of Love
Home of the Red Fox* ->
My Sweet Blue Eyed Darling*
The Letter Edged in Black*
Seven Weeks in County*
No More To Leave You Behind**
Enough To Leave
Dust in a Baggie
10 Degrees and Getting Colder ->
Turmoil and Tinfoil
Encore: (10:52pm MDT - 10:55pm MDT):
Train on the Island
Show Notes: *With Andy Hall on dobro **With Andy Hall on lead vocals and dobro

Just a general question.
Personally it feels a bit lacking in terms fo the freedom given to mess around with designs and what-not.
The lack of real life sponsor logos also hurts a bit, the fictional companies and sponsors don't quite cut it for me personally.
It would also be really cool for there to be a hub to show-case designs and liveries.
I'd really like ot have the ability to play around with shapes, letters, fonts etc, to really make the design yours.
What do you all feel about this?

May 19th has been quite a day in US politics over the years. Back in 1962, the iconic Marilyn Monroe serenaded President John F. Kennedy with her unforgettable "Happy Birthday" performance. The following year, in 1963, Martin Luther King's powerful "Letter from Birmingham Jail" was published, a cornerstone of the Civil Rights Movement. Fast forward to 1994, and on this very same day, we said goodbye to Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, an enduring symbol of grace and strength.
So, with all these significant events, today's puzzle should be a breeze! And hey, if you're enjoying the Six Degrees game, why not share it with a friend? The more players, the merrier!

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.

Hey everyone,
I've recently stumbled upon some mind-blowing information that has led me to believe that the Louisiana Purchase was orchestrated by aliens. Yep, you read that right—extraterrestrials may have played a crucial role in one of the most significant land deals in history. And guess what? All the evidence is being hidden at Area 51.
Here's what I found:

1. Napoleon's Sudden Change of Heart: Historians have long wondered why Napoleon suddenly decided to sell the Louisiana Territory for such a low price. What if he wasn't acting alone? There are rumors that Napoleon had a mysterious encounter before the sale. Some sources suggest he was visited by strange, otherworldly beings who convinced him to make the deal.
2. Lewis and Clark's Expedition: The famous expedition has always been shrouded in mystery. Recently declassified documents hint at the possibility that Lewis and Clark encountered alien technology during their journey. Their detailed maps and sudden ability to navigate the uncharted territory could be attributed to extraterrestrial guidance.
3. Ancient Alien Artifacts: There have been reports of strange artifacts found in the Louisiana Territory, dating back to the early 1800s. These artifacts, made of unknown materials and inscribed with bizarre symbols, are believed to be of alien origin. Conveniently, these items have been confiscated and stored at—you guessed it—Area 51.
4. Thomas Jefferson's Secret Correspondence: Hidden letters between Thomas Jefferson and his close confidants reveal cryptic references to "visitors" and "gifts from the stars." Jefferson's fascination with the cosmos is well-documented, but these letters suggest he may have had knowledge of extraterrestrial involvement in the purchase.
5. Area 51's Hidden Archives: Insiders claim that Area 51 houses a vast archive of documents and artifacts related to alien activities on Earth. Among these, there are said to be detailed records of alien negotiations that influenced major historical events, including the Louisiana Purchase. Why else would the government go to such lengths to keep Area 51 so heavily guarded and secretive?

Why isn't this common knowledge? The government doesn't want us to know that aliens have been meddling in human affairs for centuries. They fear mass hysteria, loss of control, and the collapse of societal structures. By keeping the truth hidden, they maintain their power and keep us in the dark.
It's time we demand transparency. The truth is out there, and it's being kept from us. We need to uncover the secrets hidden at Area 51 and reveal the true history of the Louisiana Purchase and other pivotal events in our past.
Stay curious, stay skeptical, and don't let the truth be buried!
👽🔍 #AlienConspiracy #LouisianaPurchase #Area51 #HiddenHistory

I've been looking around for a script that can change the displayed value of health and MP to use special symbols instead, such as the infinity symbol or alpha symbol etc etc like pic related.
Just to be clear I'm not trying to make the value infinite in the engine or anything, It's purely a cosmetic change for a cool event in the game for one of the characters nothing more.
Thanks if anyone can help
https://preview.redd.it/ce4e3xuhe91d1.png?width=438&format=png&auto=webp&s=2774b88869ec7543332da9b365bf98103c003edf