Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1cxj7h8/comment/l52vtd5/?context=3
*****

The Palatini of Orias journey took nine grueling days of traveling down the peaks of Torness Mountain Range. But at long last, they reached the Coralus Valley. While the temperature was far below what the half-elf usually enjoyed, it was far better than the mountain peaks.
They traveled through the valley, trying to avoid the multiple hostiles, villages, and anyone else who could tip off their enemies. They had to take every tedious path imaginable to prevent possible contact with the enemy.
Staring at their destination, Fraeya Holiadon could not decide if she should be thrilled or distorted at the sight. "Is this the place?"
"I believe so," Raegel said. "The pattern of the structures matches my drawings and the map. See the remains of the two walls?"
"And the stone rings that direct out," Henness said.
"So, you have read the legends," Raegel said, surprised by the centurion's knowledge of the temple.
"I always prepare before a mission," Henness said. "Those half rings, are they stone or artificial?"
"They look like stone, so I think they used the ground stone and molded them," Raegel said.
Fraeya Holiadon carefully stared at the temple ruins. All she could see was the destruction—fractured stone buildings, walls, weed-infested stone pavement, and so on. While there were still many stone structures, most were destroyed. She could only see death, not the walls her father could see.
She turned to ask her father what he was talking about but saw Centurion Fionntan Henness pointing toward the walls and other details.
Watching the two communicate about the features of the temple, she realized how out of depth she was. Her father spent generations studying ruins like this, while Henness is an experienced soldier. For Fraeya, this was her first mission outside the academy supervision, and she realized how different the world was compared to the classroom.
As the two spoke, her elf ears overheard Henness mention that he saw green webbing. As the two men debated what creatures could create that webbing, she already knew based on the type of webbing. Being an excellent student, she recalled the topic regarding intelligent monsters. While many species produce a web, only one creates a thick green. Goblins.
"Father," Fraeya said. "I think goblins made those webbings."
"How could you possibly know that?" Henness asked, unconvinced by the theory. "It would easily be Rorgo or a Kipt."
Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out her notepad. She flipped through the pages and responded, "Kipt is more silk-like, while Rorgo is more for capturing prey. Both are white. Only Goblins make green."
"She is correct," Raegel said. "The green should have been a given."
"Alright," Henness said. "That complicates things."
"How so?" Fraeya asked. "The academy said they are weak. Adventures and local militia kill them constantly, so your men should be able to wipe them out with your weaponry easily."
"Goblins are weak in small numbers, but they are a nightmare in large numbers," Henness said. "And depending on the horde, they adapt to who their enemies are quickly. For all I know, we could be fighting a nest that is as heavily armed as we are."
Fraeya looked back toward the next with much confusion. She knew about the goblin's ability to adapt. However, her teachers never stated how formal they could be. Only treating them as barbarians is a functional civilization. "I would think the academy would mention something like that."
"If you are going to be out here in the world, you must understand that life is very different from the classroom," Henness said. "The difference between someone who lives behind a desk versus someone on the ground. Now, I need to get my forces ready for our attack."
Once the centurion left, Fraeya looked at her father. "I am starting to get the impression that my schooling wasn't as truthful as I once thought."
Raegel chuckled at the statement from his daughter. "That is what I said when I left my academy in Thali'ean," he said with a short chuckle before he spoke. "Henness was correct; there is a large gap between the classroom and out here in the world."
"I see. So, now, what do we do?"
"We wait for the legionaries to form a plan. Because time is not on our side, he will want you to assist with your magic. Do you think you can assist? If you are uncomfortable, tell me now, and you can stay here where it is safe."
Feeling a nervous chill creeping down her spine, she looked back toward the temple and breathed heavily. "I admit, I am scared, but I didn't come here to babysit the camp. I want to help."
She felt her father pat her on the back, feeling a sense of pride from his touch.
"That's my daughter."
After an hour of planning, the Palatini of Orias began their assault on the temple ruins. The plan was for a primary team to assault the temple directly, triggering a response from the goblin. The second team would remain on the high ground and pick off the horde.
Fraeya ended up on the right side of the group team. To her surprise, many soldiers were thrilled that they were finally getting into a fight. She wondered, after two weeks of crawling over the mountains and hiding like rodents, they finally got a chance to be soldiers.
The primary assault group she was attached to advance toward the temple once the signal was given. Passing one of the few remaining wall structures, they entered the temple ground. As they swept through the old temple's front sections, the goblins huddled around a fire pit, noticed them, and prepared for battle.
Three legionaries known as circilmen, from the palatini positioned themselves to engage the incoming enemy. Carrying a ranged projectile weapon known as a circiletum, they hid behind the front shield men and fired upon the incoming enemy. They picked off two of the three goblins as the last one quickly crawled under a piece of rubble for cover. Then, the palatini heard a painful screech from the hiding goblin.
Fraeya couldn't help herself but stand there noticing the two fresh corpses. She then watched as two of the swordsmen rushed to the hiding goblin. They reached in and pulled the little green monster out of its hiding spot.
Two swordsmen grabbed the goblin and dragged it from its cover, it jumped on top of one of the legionaries, stabbing its blade into its armor, unable to break through. With a short struggle, the legionary could slam the goblin onto the ground. The other legionary stomped on the body before thrusting his gladius into the monster.
Hearing another screech, Fraeya looked down the stone path and saw goblins popping out of every crack and corner.
One of the legionary officers ordered the unit to reform. The swordsmen took the front with their large scutum shields, creating a two-line protective shield wall. Behind them were the circilmen, taking cover behind the scutum.
The group of goblins charged forward. As they approached, the legionaries saw the raw, starving rage within their dark green eyes—a thirst for primal instincts of food and lust and nothing else.
"Fraeya, is it?"
Hearing her name, she turned to the commanding offer of this group.
"When I give the order, shake the ground." The lower-ranking Centurian said.
Fraeya acknowledged the order as she understood what he was planning.
Turning back to the incoming horde, she watched the three circilmen open fire. The circiletums cut down the forward group of goblins. The ones behind that row suddenly stopped from the shock but were cut down by a second volley.
"Now. Before they scatter."
Fraeya placed her hands together and chanted. The two tiny mana crystals on her gloves blew green as she felt a raw energy channel through her body. A moment later, that glow expanded to the point that it encompassed her hand.
Channeling the mana needed for the spell, Fraeya placed her left hand on the ground.
The stone ground beneath them shook the stone terra, stunning the goblins. Right down the center, cracks formed, and the terra broke apart. The road slightly uplifted into an elevation, forcing the goblins to focus on what was happening.
With the ground disinformed, it prevented the enemy from scattering in an organized manner, allowing the circilmen to fire another volley.
The front scutum marched forward and started cutting down anything that moved. The other line split into two groups. They were marching down the street in an almost synchronized manner. They held their shields high toward the ruins, protecting the circilmen from any incoming projectile. Arrows and magic.
Fireballs flew and impacted the scutum infantry, protecting the flanks. Some of the shields glowed from the impact. The flames engulfed one of the men's arms, and he started to scream from the pain.
The circilmen returned fire, and a firefight began. The sound of their weapons crackled throughout the surrounding area, amplified by the ruined walls. Above the sound of battle were the voices and cries of the wounded—the circiletum that were deployed on the ridge above rained fire from the suppressive team.
The Palatini of Orias pushed deeper into the temple ground as the battle continued. That was until the town began to be consumed by this thick haze, providing cover for the goblins, and restricting visibility for the Lat forces. While not educated to the standards of civilized races, Goblins were not stupid.
"It is a haze," Fraeya said. "They must have a mage somewhere within the nest."
Centurion Fionntan Henness approached their forces and began to regroup. "Can you counter it?"
"No," Fraeya replied. "I never studied Aeromancy magic."
"Nebulo," Henness said. "Our armor and weapons will be less effective."
Fraeya understood his concern. From what she recalled from her classes; goblins have sharp senses. Based on the density of the haze, it was clear even to her that they were planning to force them to huddle and expose themselves to be surrounded, making their ranged weapons worthless.
"We will just have to work around it," Raegel said.
As Frayea prepared herself, she felt a strange feeling throughout her body, almost like some field affecting her body. She saw a female legionary in light armor and a cloak checking over the wounded. One of the few women in the legionary, she could tell she was the unit healer specializing in Sanamancy magic. The women must have placed a barrier to help protect against any poisonous gasses lying within the haze.
Orias advanced through the haze; this forced the soldiers to clump together for safety. As the assault group progressed, they were hit non-stop by the goblin's arrow fire, spears, and fire shots from sling guns. Most of these projectiles caused minor damage thanks to the heavy armor legionary’s wear. However, this did not remove the damage as it brought discomfort and limited their progression to a crawl.
Barely noticing two figures on top of a rooftop through the haze, who were firing slingshots toward their position, she pointed her hand toward a piece of rubble and, with her magic, lifted the debris and projected it through the haze. The rubble temporarily formed a gap in the haze that increased the line-of-sight.
She then called out to the fire battle mage within the unit. The mage realized what was happening and fired multiple firebolts toward the tower. Five bolts impacted the building from different directions, engulfing the structure in flames. Everyone could hear the faint sound of goblins screaming as the building burnt.
With the tower collapsing suddenly, arrows rained through the thick haze, hitting the legionaries in retaliation. While most arrows bounced off the armor, some found exposed spots. Two more legionaries fell to their knees, with one vomiting blood, forcing the healed to focus on the sick over protecting the group.
It became clear that the goblins changed their tactics and poisoned their arrows. While worthless against armor, they could still puncture the underneath clothing and scrap any exposed part of the skin.
A luperca legionnaire picked up an old broken wagon and used it as a shield to protect. With the cover, the lower ranking commanders directed the circilmen to pick off any goblins that peaked above the surface.
Combined with the haze and change of tactic, this formed a strange stalemate between the two sides. The Orias was forced into a defensive; they were well equipped to deal with any goblins who dared to get within melee range. However, the goblins had surrounded and had the range advance as they could see through the haze, allowing them to snipe any legionary who adventured far from the group.
Fraeya saw a blob of acid impact a swordsmen's scutum. The scutum started being consumed by the spell, slowly falling into pieces. The man screamed as he felt his arm burn, desperately untieing the strappings to ditch the heavy shield.
"We need to kill their shaman before we are picked off," Raegel said.
"I agreed," Henness replied. "As long as this haze is here, my suppressive team is useless."
"If I recall," Fraeya said. "A Shaman should be nearby. Someone close enough to maintain this haze and give commands but not put themselves in danger."
"Then I know where it should be," Henness said. "Let's go half-elf."
She felt her ears perk up once she realized the centurion was talking about her. She looked toward her father and saw the 'it is time to prove yourself' look. Taking a deep breath and preparing herself, she gathered behind Henness and six of his men.
The assault unit left the main one and adventurer deeper into the temple grounds. As they reached what remained of an intersection, goblins stormed out of the stone buildings to ambush the legionaries.
With their disciplined reaction, the legionaries immediately adjusted their formation and sliced down the attackers. Henness stood at the center, holding his sword out as flames wrapped around the blade.
As the goblins attacked the swordsmen, Fraeya broke apart the ground on the right flank, knocking many goblins. The one that fell, she entangled them by summoning vines - which trapped the goblins and pulled them into the ground until their death or burial.
She then turned and lifted parts of the ground on the left flank, blocking some of the goblins. This prevented the legionaries from being encircled.
"Reform," Henness ordered. "We need to advance quickly. Stay close."
Once the path was clear, the unit moved toward the building where the goblins had fortified. Henness moved in front of her to provide protection. He held up his shield, deflecting arrows.
"Stay behind me," Henness said.
While not being a military woman, Fraeya quickly learned to accept the chain of command on this quest. On the battlefield, her father told her to listen to Henness as he was a man of war. She realized that the structure and safety of the city and the academy are vastly different in the countryside. Getting behind him, she followed him close behind as he pushed forward, arrows striking his shield, allowing her to get in range for her spell.
The legionaries stopped engaging the incoming goblins, allowing their centurion and the young mage to get closer. Henness reached around his scutum and pressed the amulet attached to the outer shell's center. Once pressed, the large shield briefly glowed before darkening, returning to the standard red with white lining design.
Up ahead, Fraeya saw in full display of the nest. Spikes, fortification, and green webbing filled the gaps between the ruined structures. Skeletons and decomposing bodies littered the areas of their past victims. The goblins were standing in the bunker sections, preparing for battle. With how heavily guarded it was, she concluded that this must be where the Shaman was.
"Fraeya, now!"
Fraeya moved around the man to cast her spell. With a quick chant, her hands glowed green again. As she channeled her mana, an acid attack impacted Henness' scutum. While the added hardening enchantment from the amulet increased the scutum resistance, the acid slowly ate through the large shield.
Stepping from cover, Fraeya aimed her hands at the nest. The ground trembled a little as the front of the nest collapsed on itself from the summoned sinkhole.
With the front entrance open, Fraeya saw the Shaman in plain view—a female, being one of the few within a goblin nest. The Shama looked scared as she looked around where to hide.
Fraeya did not give it time as she cast a spell that created a spike from the ground below the Shaman and pierced straight through the vicious monster, killing it instantly.
As the Shaman staff hit the ground, the haze started to disappear.
Believing that her work was complete after killing the goblin leader, her ears quickly heard footsteps surrounding them.
Noticing that the goblins were about to swarm their position, she took cover behind Henness to protect his rear. She took a deep breath as she felt exhausted from the battle and cast so many spells quickly.
Starting at five goblins that emerged from the ruins, Fraeya watched as they charged toward them. Before they got close, however, each one was sniped from the ridge-side suppressive team.
With a moment of confusion, she stared toward the cliffside and saw the suppressive team. Now that the haze is disappearing, they could snipe off the remaining goblins from their elevation position.
"Good job, half-elf," Henness said, slowly stepping back with a shield aimed at the flames, guiding Fraeya back.
"Stop calling me half-elf," Fraeya yelled. "I am out here risking my life with the rest of you, and don't give me that war is a male-domain thing! I am willing to see this through. Most of my kind would stay home and let you fight, so why do you keep degrading me?"
"Because ideals get people killed," Fionntan Henness replied. "Out here, you must earn that respect within the brotherhood of warriors, especially if you are used to living inside the city walls. People with a self-protected mindset usually end up as food for the worms or get my soldiers killed because they do not understand what it takes to survive."
The centurion then turned to the destroyed nest. "I will say, though, what you did here. It is a good first step for a half-elf." He then turned to give her an approving smile.
Not understanding the humor from the Lat, Fraeya accepted it. From her experience, Lats always had a strange sense of humor. Insults are sometimes seen as compliments while praising could be considered offensive. Saying one thing but meaning another is a common trait for them.
With the remaining palatini coming after clearing the remaining goblins, Fraeya saw her father. She rushed over and hugged him and teared up.
"You did good, my dear," Raegel said as he patted her.
"Is this really what it is like out here?" Fraeya asked.
"Sadly, it is," Fraeya replied. "That is why I never brought you around on my digs."
"I am sorry to interrupt," Henness said. "We are on borrowed time, so can we get at it?"
Fraeya looked toward the centurion with frustration as she wanted a moment with her father. After taking a deep breath, she realized that he was right.
After finishing her hug, she brushed off the goblin's blood and clothing.
"Then we better begin searching for what we came for," Raegel said as he reached for his bag. She watched as he pulled out a perfectly smoothed, pure black orb. By itself, it didn't look impressive. She had seen hundreds of these orbs at the academy or the many workshops within the city.
Raegel held the orb in one hand and activated it with his mana. The orb glowed light blue and fainted, barely emitting any energy. He then took it against the mountain and began scanning.
Not wanting to miss anything, Fraeya quickly pulled out her journal, skipping past all her notes until she reached a blank page. She then began documenting everything her father did, taking in every world and detail.
The palatini began walking through the ruins, heading toward the mountain wall. Raegel explained in his research that the temple extended inside the mountain, like a dwarf borrian. While others who came before him came up with this theory, they were still looking for a way to detect the hidden door markings and find it.
Raegel moved down the side of the mountain, holding the orb high.
"Why are you not using a door-detecting amulet?" Fraeya asked.
"Because people have been using that for generations and found nothing here," Raegel replied.
After a reasonable amount of time when nothing had happened, Fraeya began to wonder if everything was for nothing. Seeing the lack of progress, Henness inquired if the orb failed to work. As Raegel replied, the orb suddenly blimped orange for a moment.
Witnessing the sudden change, the group backed away as they did not know how to respond to the sudden glow.
Noticing a renewed excitement from her father, she followed him closely as they investigated the mountainside.
As they searched, her father noticed that the faint blue glow from the orb had changed to orange. It then disappeared and slowly appeared, like it was slowly pulsing. When they continued walking forward, the pulsing light increased in speed.
"I think it is directing us, father," Fraeya said.
"Possible," Raegel said. "There must be some type of link."
The palatini followed the direction the orb gave. As the group approached a mountainside wall, the pulse frequency increased until it looked like the orb glowed a solid color.
"I think we found it," Raegel said. He lifted the orb toward the wall.
As the orb drew closer to the mountainside, these blue lines appeared all over the rocky wall. The rough chips of rock melted away and turned smooth as the light traveled through the grooves, slowly creating what looked like a giant door of light.
Once the bright lights finished designing a massive door, Fraeya placed her hand on the wall, shocked at how the natural bulky rocks turned into a marble-like wall.
"I would step aside, Fraeya," Raegel said.
As Fraeya stepped backward, she watched her father open the door with a magical spell. Like most magical doors, the door brightened as she expected it would fold into the mountain. To her surprise, the door didn't fold away but melted into the ground.
"What happened to the door?" Fraeya asked.
Raegal placed his hand on his chin. "It seemed that the wall was not solid but some liquid matter. These people are impressive."
The wall began to shake as dusk from the cracks spread through the area.
A large opening formed as the door walls folded into the mountainside. A passage leading deeper into the mountain. The walls were black and smooth, while the floor had these textiles in perfect order, leading deeper into the mountain.
"This has to be a dwarven design," Fraeya commented. "Only they could do something like this."
"I'm not sure," Raegel said. "This is not a design I have seen from dwarves."
Fraeya understood what her father meant. Dwarven doors into the mountains took a lot of work to find. While there were many designs of such hidden doors and the means to open them, it was doubtful that anyone had ever seen a secret magical door like this before.
Raegel started to walk into the chamber but was suddenly stopped by Henness. Stating that he wanted his men to go first to ensure no trap, three legionaries moved through the large chamber. Once they gave the clear, the rest of the group entered.
While walking, Fraeya stayed close to her father as she took notes. The soldiers ahead of them set up torches to add more light. To her surprise, the walls and floor were smooth. The air was stale, probably trapped within this chamber for centuries.
As they walked inside, the room lit up. Everyone stopped as they looked toward the end of the hall. The chamber was empty, with only a strange-looking platform at the very end. Noticing that the orb was pointing toward the platform, they approached it.
"Is this it?" Henness asked. "It does not look that impressive."
"Not everything is based on size, centurion," Raegel replied, to which his daughter giggled.
Fraeya then analyzed the platform. It was smooth, almost marble-like. However, she doubted whether it was marble. The fundamental details that she noticed were a strange-looking blue crystal at the center of the platform and another in a hole on the side.
"This is interesting," Fraeya commented. The design looked surprisingly simple. This orb must act as some command orb for this device. They must be communicating in some manner."
"Assuming that the legend was true, the orcs were the ones who summoned the lats from Altaerrie," Fraeya said. "Maybe, when this place was lost of that time, it was never turned off. Being left in a state of slumber, waiting to be reawakened."
"Possible. It would explain why the orb directed us here. The orange pulse is now pointing down at a rapid pace."
"I think it goes into that hole, father," Fraeya said. "From what I can tell, the crystal in there connects to the one on top of the platform."
"I see," Raegel said. "The pulse is pointing toward it too. I recommend that everyone step back."
"Be careful, father," Fraeya said.
Stepping back from the platform, Fraeya watched as her father placed the orb into the hole. This was the moment her father had been talking about for decades, and it had finally come true. The Bridge between two worlds had finally been discovered.
As Raegel placed the orb into the platform, it glowed orange in a solid state, no longer pulsing. The blue crystal in the middle of the platform slowly lit up, like it was waking up after a long sleep.
The air suddenly chilled as the air flowed toward the platform. A bright light beamed out of the crystal and slowly faded away, leaving a light as if on standby.
To their dismay, the orb changed to red, dimming and brightening in a slow, tired pattern.
"What is it doing, father?" Fraeya asked.
"I have no idea," Raegel replied. "It must be waiting for something."

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1/22/2048 (military calendar)
Campsite, the former Confederacy of Daru'uie
Nevali Region, Aldrida, Alagore


*****


Looking past the dark horizon of the valley below, all that was seen were the crisp peaks and ridges of the Torness mighty mountains. Above the heights was the final shine of the father of all light, the yellow sun god known as Dorash. It almost seemed like his gaze was taking one last peek at the skirt of Alagore mountain peaks before finally fading to rest.
As the sun fell below the distant mountain peaks, a robust and crisp breeze swept through the valley below, bringing a sudden chill. As expected, the darkness came and got the freezing mountain cold. Everything became pitched black as the only light source came from the starlight flickering high above the dark void. That was until a new light from the campfires illuminated the camp, only so slightly not to be discovered.
The half-elf girl Fraeya Holiadon was not used to this type of cold. Being a forest noble elf who grew up in the warmth of cities, she quickly grabbed her black-white pattern cloak and pulled tightly to remain as warm as possible.
She took a long breath from the thin, chilly air and stared into the massive valley below—forests, lakes, and, in the distance, a glimpse of lights from a nearby town. Everything looked natural and wild, where civilization had struggled to conquer. A sight she rarely saw outside the city walls. She found the scenery incredible. Worth the hellish adventurer across the Torness Mountain Range.
"Stay away from the edge," a Lat said. "We don't want to be spotted."
"Alright," Fraeya replied. She looked at the Lat, surprised at how he stood, defiant of the thin air and freezing temperature. "Are you not cold?"
"Of course, I am," the last warrior said as he returned to the camp. "Living away from civilization, you grow used to such conditions."
As the soldier left, she looked at the valley one last time before heading back toward the camp.
Fraeya saw nearly a hundred soldiers huddling their campfires for warmth, gathering supplies, or standing watch within the camp. They are known as the Palatini of Orias, one of the many Republic elite units within the legionary. They were hand-picked by the Legate for this mission.
As the young girl walked past the palatini, she could see the exhaustion from their mannerisms. Many looked hungry; others tired with dark, deep black bags under their eyes. Others shaking as their bodies adjusted to the night. To her confusion, she also could see the determination within their eyes as the environment was just an annoyance toward their objective.
She wouldn't blame them for their exhaustion as she could feel most of her body sore from the non-stop marching and climbing, she had to endure to get to this point. Something that her professors left out of their classes. A part of her couldn't help but chuckle from how she once thought after graduation from the academy that she was ready to face the challenges of their world. Only now did she understand how little schooling prepared her for the real world.
"What is so funny?" Another Lat said as she passed.
When she turned to the man, she felt a slim nerve of fear that ran through her body, believing that she might have insulted them. While most of them accepted her within the platini, she could tell they saw her as a weakling over a comrade. "I am sorry. I meant no insult. I was remembering my time at the academy."
The man turned back to his friend, commenting on her inexperience.
Fraeya felt sad as this was not her first failed interaction. For the better part of a week, Orias had escorted her and her father across some of the roughest terrains on Aldrida, taking great lengths to avoid enemy forces as their orders were to keep the two elves protected at all cost. As many men had stated, it was a near miracle that they made it this far without being noticed.
From what she understood, the commanding centurion hoped to reach the base of the mountain they were on by tonight. Such delays had become the norm; they had to delay their travels because of enemy patrols. They were hiding for hours because of J'avias' patrols from one of the nearby City-States. As they adventured deeper behind enemy-occupied territory, she expected this problem to worsen.
While the Hispana Republic's detachment for the expedition could have defeated them, the legionnaire leader, Centurion Fionntan Henness, did not want to risk exposing their unit to the enemy. He feared that if the J'avias or one of their puppet races could pass a message to the Unity's regional vassal, the Verliance Aristocracy, their mission would fail, and their last hope for victory would vanish. His superiors had invested in this last-ditch effort to turn the tide of the war to risk it on a small skirmisher with fewer soldiers.
Between the dozen campfires and the dark but illuminated sky lit by their mother Tekali, this side of the mountain range had perfectly trapped the cold air, something that Fraeya Holiadon was struggling to adapt to. As a Noble Elf, she was used to the warmth of the forest and the benefits of civilization from the continent's western side. Not the chill of the alpine.
Hearing a loud howl that echoed through the mountains, clearing coming from another party elsewhere within the area, Fraeya noticed her ride panicking. She quickly rushed over and slowly approached the beast once she got close.
"There, there," Fraeya whispered to her Deerip, a four-legged beast with three horns, light brown long hair fur, and red hoofs.
Noticing that these lands unsettled the beast, a feeling she could relate to, she rubbed the side of the Derrip's neck. Slowly and calmly whispering a song to it as the beast to calm down.
Once the beast was calm, Fraeya reached into her backpack and pulled out a bundle of grass to feed it. "I understand how you feel. This place leaves an unsettling chill down my spine, too. But you need to stay calm."
"If your beast is going to cause trouble, it will be wise to let it free," Henness said as he approached.
Looking at the centurion, Fraeya replied, "he is just startled. Deerips do not usually travel these lands. He needs to get used to being here."
Henness reached into his bag, pulling out a dark red amulet. He then tossed it into a fire pit. One of the other soldiers, a pyromancy battle mage, approached the hole and ignited it with a low-level fire spell. Unlike most red and orange flames, this fire was blackish purple, a type of flame known as dark fire by the commoners.
"Half-Elf, it took us over a week to get here through this dangerous path. These mountains are very unforgiving to wandering passengers, even to the Legion. We are deep behind enemy lines with no support. If Kallam vassals discover us, we will be slaughtered without mercy."
"That is if we are lucky," a Lat said as he sat beside the Dark Fire. "I heard stories of what happens to the prisoners that are handed over to them. I wouldn't subject my worst enemy to such a fate. Especially if a little girl got us caught."
Feeling frustrated and hearing the disrespect from the man's tone, she wanted to march over and warn Henness. While Lats could be civil and possess a strong warrior spirit, she is always surprised by how stubborn they could be.
"What is your issue, Lat? Fraeya asked. "I understand the risks. My father has been studying for this mission longer than you have been alive. I know what is at stake. This legend is our only hope in stopping them."
"Hope?" Henness asked while being unfazed by the young elf's aggressiveness. "The only reason the Legate sponsored this insane mission was that your father already got funds from a Kitsune archivist guild with a questionable reputation. They wanted to eliminate your father to focus on winning the war. They cannot afford to chase fairytales from time immemorial."
"Insane mission?" Fraeya boldly stated. "This quest is not insane, you…, damn Lat! It is the answer! We all know we cannot win the war. They are just too strong. I cannot believe how you, of all people, your kind, should believe in this."
"It is a fool's quest, Fraeya," Henness replied calmly, showing his military discipline. "Look at what we are doing." Allowing himself to collect his thoughts, he sat by the Dark Fire. "We are looking for an ancient relic, a Lat-Orc folktale that allows you to travel to another world. Hundreds of sages like your father have looked for this and other relics over the centuries. Even your father was proven wrong on this subject. There is a reason why the Guilds and his own people disowned his research."
The legend of an ancient relic from a lost age was an everyday fairytale throughout the continent of Aldrida. A Bridge that connected Alagore to the world known as Altaerrie. Her father discovered that each species and civilization had their own version of the legend over the millenniums. While the tales had many different versions, they all had the core idea - that all life was brought here by the Goddess Tekali.
In this quest to validate the legend, her father, Raegel Holiadon, dedicated his life to validating the myth and the truth of their people's past. While she did not know why her father was so passionate about searching for this truth, she knew that he believed it was the most crucial mystery of Alagore.
Considered a joke from the magical and sage guilds, Fraeya's father, Raegel Holiadon, was forced to conduct his research in isolation. Dozens of sages before him have searched for the truth and failed, falling into the same ousted fake from civilization. No one believed that this time would be any different. Because of his tenacity, he was banished to the fringes of the world to prove his theories. It was not until the Unity invaded Aldrida that he brought renewed interest to his work, not because of recent discoveries or because they suddenly believed in the legend but out of desperation to survive.
"It is different this time," Fraeya said. "If we could tale the sphere and-."
Henness cut Fraeya off, saying, "I am too tired to debate this right now. All that matters is that my Palatini was ordered to escort your party through these lands. I and the rest of my people will follow those orders to the end; I guarantee that. You shall not have to worry about our duty. I just hope this fool quest does not result in the death of my men."
Fraeya felt a deep urge to defend her father's work. As she approached, a Noble Elf stopped her, her father.
"Do not let your emotions get out of control," Raegel said.
"He called me a Half-Elf," Fraeya frustratedly replied. "And he insults my Deerip and questions your life's work."
"I know, I know, now let it go," Raegel said as he calmed his daughter. "It has been a long journey for all of us. Everyone is tired and is on nerve. Do not let an off comment grow into a wild vine."
She was hearing the wisdom from her father; she took a deep breath to calm her nerves, placing her hands together to relieve stress. The journey was long after leaving the great Hispana fortress of Nervia Glevensium. Unable to take the main highway between regions, crossing the Alps was the only way. Bypassing many Unity air patrols, Cities that pledge loyalty toward Kallem, and rouge monster hordes, she realized that her father was correct. "Okay, Father."
Seeing the warm smile from Fraeya's father, she followed him to their tent. Once settled, she wrapped herself in a blanket and sat by the fire.
She watched her father place one of those dark red amulets into a fire pit; that same battle mage shortly approached and activated it with the same low-level spell, igniting the amulet into Dark Fire. Unlike the natural red fire or the other magical types like green and blue, dark fire is used by soldiers and travelers to provide a heat source at night without attracting unwelcome guests. According to the sages, Dark Fire does not illuminate as brightly, so heat-seeking creatures and constructs cannot see the flames from distances. Perfect for behind-enemy-lines missions like this. However, it provided some warmth but could never match the red flame's natural heat.
Finally feeling some warmth, or at least as Fraeya's body wanted to believe, she turned to her father and asked, "Do you think this time it will work? Can we find this Bridge?"
"I know we will," Raegel replied as he checked their supplies. "I know that Lats can be a handful, trust me. I have been around them since my exile, but Henness is correct to be skeptical. You must understand normally that only a fool would undertake such a mission. A fool that I proved to be once or twice in my lifetime." He said with some laughter. Seeing a smile from his daughter, he continued, "But this time, it will be different."
Holding the blanket tight, Fraeya shook her head. "I don't understand, though. It is their people's legend, their story. Why wouldn't they be supportive of our mission? Especially if it is our last hope to stop the Unity."
"I am not a military man," Raegel said. "I never learned the art of war but put yourself in his boots. While you were at the academy and I conducted my research, these men have been fighting this war. Imagine all the battles, all the deaths of fallen brothers that they have witnessed time and time again. Last hopes are poison for soldiers, who have lost no matter what they do. It is their fault that the war has gone this badly, or at least I assume that is how they feel."
"But the legends," Fraeya stated again.
"Soldiers do not wage war based on legends," Raegel said. "While we believe in the legend, that does not mean they do. Thousands of years have passed and that is why they call them legends in the first place, my dear. Think about all our fellow elves' tales we have, and how many of our kind believe in them?"
Reflecting on what her father had said, she knew her people had many stories. Being one of the oldest civilizations on Aldrida, they have stories relating to dozens of topics, returning to orlilla. One of her favorite legends was how her kind were once flowers that sprouted legs. Some say that this was why the Noble race was so beautiful.
"You think that orb you found is the key to everything?" Fraeya said.
"I do," Raegel said. "Everything I have invested in up to this point has pointed to this moment. Whoever hid the Bridge did so to never be discovered by anyone. They hide it with magic beyond our means. That is why no one has ever found any trace of it. They were missing one piece of the puzzle, that orb."
Thrilled to see her father excited again, Fraeya cannot wait to see his dream finally coming to life. After all these decades of researching and traveling across the world to search for any clue, he eventually will be able to prove his life work was correct. He had toured Alagore for centuries, looking for clues, relics, ruins, and anything from the old era. A life work proved worthwhile.
As Fraeya stared at the Dark Fire, she asked, "What do you think this other world will be like?"
“I have no idea,” Raegel said. "I believe that this other world will be like ours. If the historical archives at Allsari and stories of old are true, then it is the world of the Lats…, Altaerrie."

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92 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. UNAFS Perseverance (HSR) - Shuttlecraft - 01. En Route to the New Lorisa Forests LZ.
Lysara
“Touching down in ten seconds.” I announced, my voice emanating from the encounter suit’s speakers in a language that, until just days ago, was an enigma.
Yet in a matter of days, this deceptively simple translation suite, a triumph of xenolinguistics, was now able to match my tone perhaps better than ever before.
Which explained exactly why Evina had responded in the way that she did. “Nervous, Lysara?” She offered in a snide, yet well-meaning jab.
I didn’t respond, not yet at least, as the last five minutes on approach were more often than not the most dangerous aspects of aeronautics; that much I learned from the pilots and armed service members I worked with over the years.
It was only after we’d touched down, and the final safety checks were complete, that I finally turned towards Evina. “I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t at least a little bit unnerved about this whole situation.” I offered, gesturing towards the back of the shuttle, as the both of us unbuckled and left our seats. The whole mission was already memorized in our minds as we’d already run through every plan and backup plan we had over the entirety of the flight time down here. “And to be quite frank, I’m surprised you’re taking this whole thing so incredibly well.” I continued, going through the final checklists on the deployment of this platoon’s worth of combat drones as I did so.
“I think we’ve long since sailed past the point of no return the moment you told me that there was an intergalactic, eons-long war going on, Lysara.” The felinor offered with a shrug. “A bunker with potential ties with that aforementioned malevolent cosmic entity is nothing compared to that bombshell.”
“I’d have assumed that the nature of the bunker, and this mission being issued by said interloper, would’ve been the sticking point here.” I offered, genuinely curious as to the nonchalant attitude projected by the felinor.
“Eh. When you’ve lived in the wastes for this long, you’re bound to have heard the whole ‘the aliens did it’ conspiracy more often than you’d like. Now I’m not saying I believe every wastelander with a conspiracy theory… but I can’t admit the fact that the bunker has always been something that radiates a really weird aura about it. I mean, compared to literally everything else out there in the wastes? It exists in almost this time capsule of complete isolation. The beasts that roam the area, preying on anyone that gets close, don’t really help out much in that whole weird vibe either. So yeah, ever since my first iteration tried to drill her way into it, Far-Reach Point has been a point of great mystery amongst the survivors of the waste. Which lends itself really well to the possibility that your alien enemies could actually be behind it.” Evina shrugged once more, before adding a cheeky self deprecating comment. “The fact that it’s been broadcasting all this time should also be a dead giveaway to be honest. Because you definitely won’t see anything felinor-made still functional without constant maintenance after a few years into its lifespan.”
I chuckled at that statement, if only because it seemed to be made in genuine jest. “Well, we can’t say for certain that interloper tech is involved in its construction. What we do know is that the interloper has some vested interest in the facility.” I shot back, attempting to temper the felinor’s expectations and keeping everything to the limited facts we had on hand. “Or more specifically, the individual living within it.”
“And you got all of that just by putting two and two together huh? Your mission to find this person-of-interest, and the weird anomaly that is this signal station.” The felinor shot back with a disquietingly critical stare.
“It’s our one and only lead.” I shrugged. “It’s either that, or we comb through every living felinor on this planet. So in light of this massive lead, my hypothesis is that our person-of-interest, is in fact, somewhere within that facility.”
“Eh.” Evina once more shrugged. “A better conspiracy theory than the nutjobs. Or rather, good enough that I’d buy it.” She grinned, baring her teeth in the process which, at this point, I’d become accustomed to. If anything, it was after hours of ‘cat videos’, as Vir called them; that I finally started to become accustomed to these fangy grins. Moreover, it was becoming a point of endearment more than anything.
“In any case, drones are online and ready to go.” I continued, moving the conversation out of speculation and back into action, as the rear of the shuttle opened to a charred and lifeless forest floor.
“Man, Vir really did a number to this place, didn't he?” Evina whistled out.
“I… do apologize for all of the collateral damage we’ve incurred on your world-”
“Are you kidding me?!” The felinor interjected with a devious grin. “I hate forests! Heck, maybe it’s a carry-over from my perpetually-indoors first iteration, but forests have always been a place of danger and death lurking over every corner! So yeah, nah, don’t worry about it. If anything, Vir did us a favor by doing this; so be sure to like… let’s make sure to grab him a souvenir or something when we come back.”
The felinor’s frankly erratic behavior worried me sometimes.
But then again, this was to be expected given the nature of cultural barriers. As such, I simply ‘smiled’ back a smile of my own, bearing my blunt teeth as best as I could. “Noted, Evina.”
It was around that point where Evina finally donned her helmet, clasping it into place as she began testing the communications suite with surprisingly little difficult.
“Alright. Can you still hear me through this thing?”
“Loud and clear, Evina.” I nodded.
“Right, let’s get this party started.”

92 Hours After the First Round of Interloper Interrogations. New Lorisa Forests LZ, En Route to the Signal Station (Far-Reach Point).
Evina
We were parked approximately seven hundred or so meters from the signal station.
Though that distance was measured from point to point, and definitely didn’t account for the obstacles and terrain that stretched from here to the station.
Despite that, and what my memories had warned me was a treacherous trek through dense and uncompromising foliage, the world outside was now anything but.
However, despite the constant mission briefs and the logical part of my brain telling me that what awaited outside was nothing like my prior iterations recalled… the power of several lifetimes were just too powerful to overcome.
That was, until the exit ramp opened, and I saw the flattened devastation that awaited me. The charred forest, and the open landscape, quickly sent any doubts incurred by my prior iterations back to whence they came from.
So with one of the greatest obstacles out of the way, and the raw and unbridled power of human-driven alien technologies at our disposal, our deployment out of the shuttle and into the forest was a piece of cake.
More than that, I now had front row seats to the shock and uncompromising efficiency of automated combat.
Needless to say, I was more than happy to be on the other side of the barrel when it came to this engagement.
Four distinct squads of robots formed up and ran out of the back of the shuttle, forming into cohesive units comprised of ten or so felinoid bots, accompanied by a whole host of flying, crawling, slithering, and galloping machines that secured the perimeter for us within a matter of seconds.
Upon a single urging from Lysara, we walked out, flanked on all sides by a remaining detachment of bots, consisting of five felinoid units and a flight of five more drones.
For the first time in any of my prior iteration’s lifetimes, I finally felt like I was on the winning side.
It was a good feeling.
And one I hoped continued as we made our leisurely march through the decimated forests and up towards the station.
The whole scene was just so… jarring.
Especially as memory after memory came to the forefront of those trials and tribulations from the lives of my first, second, and third iterations that had all made this trek several times over.
The massive tileroot tree that dominated the area next to the station… was now just gone. The same could be said for the thick pipewood vines that obstructed the path every couple of steps, and even the earltail moss that kept growing thicker and thicker on the front entrance of the bunker.
Most importantly, the air around me was now silent and still, interrupted only by the near-silent whirrs from the robots and the crunching of ashen foliage beneath our boots.
This was perhaps the first time in my life I actually enjoyed the devastation, a thought that was both ironic as it was troubling.
Regardless, we eventually made our way to the front of the facility in a staggering seven minutes; arriving in front of a circular door with gear-like cogs that were sunken into the facility itself.
“So… why didn’t you try blasting through the walls or the other surfaces of the facility?” I inquired bluntly, pointing at parts of the facility that weren't built into the hillside.
“Countermeasures.” Lysara responded, his voice resonating into my ears, a weird and alien sensation that still sent shivers down my spine. “Our scans were incapable of determining the detailed makeup of what was inside. And as a result, we have the be on the lookout for potential countermeasures against unauthorized entry. In addition, given the fact the facility still has enough power to maintain that broadcast, we can be certain that we not only have to worry about passive countermeasures, but active ones as well.”
“Makes sense.” I nodded. “Is this why you wanted my expertise to begin with? In the hopes that I might have some intel on this place?”
“Correct.” Lysara nodded.
“Well thankfully, you’re in luck.” I responded with a cocky grin, pointing towards a not-so-insignificantly sized hole drilled into one of the door’s massive cog-like edges. “Like I told you in the briefing, my first iteration had tried her hand at breaking into this place. It didn’t work out, obviously, but she did have some theories as to how the whole door system works.” I began walking towards the hole, as a flood of memories from my first iteration slammed into me hard. “So, just beyond this hole should be an emergency release mechanism. Apparently most fallout shelter doors have this as a failsafe or something; accessible only from the inside but capable of being accessed from the outside if you're willing to dig through twenty or so meters of solid metal and rock. This is the mechanism I’m talking about here, so not actually the door itself. My memory’s a bit fuzzy on the specifics but… I’m sure that if we drill deeper into that, angling the hole sideways so we don’t actually go through the door itself, we should hit a mechanism that can be manipulated. Now if you have some fiber optic camera wire and a master lockpick or something, I’m sure you can do it in a few days. But considering we have the power of artificial intelligence on our side… I’m sure we can do it in five minutes.”
That vote of confidence for Vir was rewarded with a ping and a notification in front of my visual field. The existence of a HUD was again, just as jarring as literally everything else right now.
With a heavy breath from Lysara, who at this point was scanning the hole with a whole host of scientific instruments, I received my answer as to how it was we were going to proceed. “One of the bots can be repurposed as a multipurpose drone.” He gestured towards a combat bot that was quickly switching from its main weapon, to what looked to be a seriously well-kitted out multitool kit masquerading as a hand. “We should be able to bore through this in about five minutes, from there… I’ll switch things over to Vir, and I’m sure we’ll be inside that bunker in under fifteen.”
The confidence was palpable in Lysara’s voice, giving me hope that today was the day that the burning curiosity in my first iteration’s memories would finally be addressed.
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(Author’s Note: We arrive on the planet, and make our way towards the signal station! All the while, we observe the tireless preparations Vir has made in ensuring that the landing zone is cleared of threats! Evina elaborates further on exactly what her first iteration had done in order to try to get in, let's just hope that this time around, they can make more progress than her first iteration! :D The next chapter is already out on Patreon as well if you want to check it out!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 97 of this story is already out on there!)]

started off with a lump behind the ear, and i thought i had an ear infection so i went to walk in care :(
i was told it’s at the point i may need surgery
i feel so sick all the time, i can barely think or hear out of my left ear and it aches so bad
i’m gonna try and stay positive, the worst that can happen is i lose hearing and/or need surgery. wish me luck

I also need to "tell someone".
I am in love with someone whose wife is cheating. I (28F) met him (44M) in 2021 when I was 25. We met at work, he hired me for management. I realized that the heart racing that kept me up at night for a month was something more than a health condition. I knew I loved him when he came back from the vacation he took. It was October. I feel this October since.
We had amazing relationships with no indecency from his side. He is a family man top to bottom. He is hardworking, nice, and humble even though he earns a lot. He respected people of humble professions and came from a humble background himself. That touched me. I don’t usually fall for guys with money. I am a hopeless romantic type-a-gal.
SO his wife. Let’s call her Kay(~42F). I suddenly stumbled upon narcissistic abuse paragraphs that fit the image even though she can give a picture of a perfect wife and a mother. They have 2 kids. As of what I accidentally heard with my own ears she treats them badly. As she treats her mother-in-law.
I knew what that type of a person she was and I was afraid she would leave him heartbroken. I was scared for him.
Anyway. I had an experience of abusive relationships in the past and our connection with him allowed me to talk openly about it. We shared messages in a chat app. I told stories about how I was fooled around and left heartbroken. In case we lose touch and he finds out about her infidelity. I wanted for him to have a safe space in me. To be the one to understand what he is going through.
But one night I received a threat from her on Facebook. She read my messages to him about the indecent and abusive partner I had and she recognized herself, I guess. She blocked me and sent a threat that she unsent but I saw the top of a message before it disappeared.
I sent him a screenshot of that in the morning and after that. We talked, and I saw a side of him I hadn’t seen before, he said that if I didn’t stop what I was doing, he might divorce his wife. I left him a message that I loved him since it was a war in our country and I didn’t know when I would see him again. I wanted him to feel support at least from me, because I’ve heard a couple of times how she’s mistreated him behind closed doors(I was on the phone, and she was yelling at him).
Later I was scared for his life. I hired an investigator who found out that she doesn’t handle her business properly and it’s a delicate type of business. Plus actively cheated on her husband, the one I loved with my whole heart. And I started leaving clues for his friend with the help of the same detective. I spent a lot of money on secrecy and everything, but then wanted to uncover myself to him and ask for forgiveness for getting into this. But I was afraid for his life.
I saw how some wife sold out her husband’s location to the russists and got him killed so she could continue living the life she wanted with her lover. It is a true story and looked to me like a pattern Kay might also go for.
Since I warned her potential customers online that her business was untrustworthy, she got very angry and started ruining my life. Using a platform of her business, she posted online untrue fabricated information about me, my health condition, etc. I was very stressed and even got into a hospital.
When I was discharged, I came back to normal life and sent him an email about what she was writing about me. He started apologizing and said he would fix it.
It’s been a year and I haven’t heard from him since. I sent him a bunch of emails asking for an honest answer. But I haven’t received any. She continued posting horrible lies about me though. She also hired some man to pretend he was a Police officer to intimidate me. She is insinuating that I am this crazy stalker who is sexually harassing him. And that's not all of the horrible things she's posting.
I ended my last email by saying I respect his choice to stay with her even though she is indecent and cheating because I love him and therefore I have to respect him as well.
I am crushed, lately nearly committed suicide, trying to live normally again, but I don’t know how. I still hope we will be together and I can make him happy, not just married.

Tom took another look at the dwindling encampment as his dismay began to fade away. "Whoever's left to hang out with are the most committed to the cause" he thought to himself. "If anything, I'll have more fun than I did before." And after all, they had a good lineup of activists scheduled to visit in the next few days, and an anarchist band had even agreed to play this afternoon. He had definitely noticed a rapid drop in the number of campers since the end of the semester, and had even begun to doubt that they would be able to get any sort of concessions out of the university. But his thinking had changed after hearing the speeches that morning.
First to speak was Tom's friend and comrade, Eric. His impassioned indictment of the Israeli government reminded Tom of the importance of their activism. Then came the married grad students, the Trotskyist Abdou and the pan-Arabist Farida. They were international students studying English and anthropology, respectively. Or was it anthropology and sociology? Abdou lectured on the university's connection to the military-industrial complex. His speech was filled with threats to the administration that Tom was sure the limp-dicked Trot had no means of fulfilling. Even so, he had to admit that despite all his other inadequacies, Abdou was a powerful speaker. Finally came Farida. Tom had always considered her the best speaker of them all, but frankly he had a hard time taking his eyes off her whether she was speaking or not. He had tried flirting with her before, and he got the feeling that Abdou was even more into it than she was. Thinking about it now, he couldn't quite remember what her speech had been about, but it had certainly improved his spirits.
As the "Bacon Brigade" began setting up their instruments, Tom decided to make a point of dancing with Farida that afternoon. As the average tent now held two campers rather than five, he even thought he might get a chance to enjoy some of the newfound privacy.
...
When there was a break in the music, Tom sauntered over to the table where Abdou was sitting. As an ML, Tom could hardly stand Trotskyists, but he put on a smile for the sake of "left unity."
"She's a good dancer isn't she?" said Abdou.
"Oh yes, the best," agreed Tom. He was trying to think of a way of progressing his slow seduction of this Muslim woman and decided to be bold. "Look Abdou, the band will be winding down soon, why don't you both come back to my tent and I'll show you some comradely hospitality. I also have some suggestions that I know you'll love."
Abdou's mind was racing with the possibilities of the situation. Would this be the chance to see his wife seduced and taken by this big stud? Supposing Farida won't agree? Before he could engage his brain Abdou found himself agreeing to Tom's offer. "Wonderful, wonderful," beamed Tom and he could feel his big cock twitch at the thought of bedding Abdou's beautiful wife.
Just then Farida reappeared. "What are you two talking about?" she said.
Before Abdou could say a word, Tom said "Well my dear, your husband has kindly accepted my invitation of hospitality at my tent."
Farida didn't know what to say. She had thought Abdou would whisk her off back to the hotel and give her the fucking she desperately needed. Rubbing up against Tom's manhood had taken its toll. "Well I suppose we could come and see where you camp," she said, "but we mustn't stay too late must we Abdou?"
"What? I err no, I suppose not," stammered Abdou as Tom rose and offered Farida his arm.
And the three of them found themselves heading off to tent where the lives of Abdou and Farida would be changed forever. As they walked along Abdou held one of Farida's arms and Tom the other. However, after a while Abdou consciously let go of his wife's arm and stepped behind Tom.
This was not lost on the big white and he put his big protective arm around Abdou's wife as if to say to everyone "she's mine." If Farida hadn't been so dazed by the afternoon's events, she might have noticed various other white students smiling at Tom with knowing grins. They had recognized the situation immediately; a Muslim couple with cuckold husband following on as a big powerful white man led the wife to his cot.
Soon they reached Tom's tent and both Abdou and Farida were pleasantly surprised at how spacious it was. "Let me get you some coffee," said Tom as both Abdou and Farida collapsed onto a big sleeping bag.
Having sorted the drinks, Tom put some music on, and crawling over to Farida he said, "Can we have another dance Farida, you're such a good dancer?"
Before Farida could answer she felt her husband pushing her up. "Go on Farida, you know how much you enjoy it."
Abdou secretly wanted to see his wife in the arms of this Adonis again and who knows maybe more. Having no real reason to object, Farida agreed and as she accepted Toms hand she couldn't help but feel a shiver at the thought of being reacquainted with his penis, albeit covered by his trousers. However, as they left the tent she had a suspicion that he wasn't wearing any under garments since his penis had seemed so clearly outlined earlier.
As he clasped her to himself Tom could feel his big cock twitch once again. He moved one hand down to the small of her back, just to test the waters and meeting no resistance after another minute or so he moved his hand onto her sexy bottom. He could feel through the thin dress that Farida wasn't wearing thick pants, or perhaps only very skimpy ones and he couldn't wait to see her naked.
Farida felt lost in a different world as she circled round with this big man. Not only could she feel his penis growing hard against her once more, but she felt his big hand on her bottom pulling her onto his hardness. When she looked at her husband (still sitting in the tent), she noticed that he was just rubbing his own penis through his trousers. "My goodness," she thought, "he's getting turned on watching us. Supposing I flirt a bit more and show him what he's missing?"
With that Farida deliberately started to open her legs and let Tom's muscular leg rub against her inflamed sex.
This change in Farida's demeanor was not lost on Tom. As he led her back to the tent, he let his hands roam all over the back of this sexy hijabi Muslim wife and he leaned down to kiss and nibble her neck and ears. He heard Farida sigh and knew that he was close to capturing this sexy wife. "Fatima, let's give Abdou a show to remember shall we?"
Farida was brought back from her dreamlike state by Tom's question. "What do you mean?" she asked.
Almost in a whisper Tom said, "You know, a bit of thesis-antithesis-synthesis."
He had already found the zipper that ran down the back of Farida's dress and he had it in his hands as he spoke to her. He slowly started to pull the zipper down and it was half way down her back before Farida realised what was happening. "Wait Tom, we can't do this, I'm married."
"So what of it, Abdou wants me to undress you, don't you Abdou?"
Abdou had no hesitation in replying in the affirmative. This is what he had wanted for so long.
Caught in the confusion and surprise of hearing her husband say that he wanted to see another man, undress her, Farida just lay there while Tom pulled the zipper right down and then eased the dress off her shoulders. Suddenly she realised that she was lying in only her stockings, garter belt, and thong panties.
As she looked up at Tom she saw something that she hadn't seen in a man for years and that was undisguised lust. This man was lusting after her, this married women! She should have felt ashamed at her feelings but she didn't. Having got half-naked, she realised that she was enjoying the attention of this muscular white man. In fact she decided to crawl around in front of him as if to say 'look at what my husband has and you haven't'.
This might have been a foolish act, but it merely served to confirm what both men knew. For Tom it confirmed that Farida was absolutely gorgeous, the sexiest Muslim woman he had ever seen and that she needed to be loved sexually. For Abdou as he fingered his painfully erect cock, he knew that he was just a few steps away from pushing his wife into a sleeping bag with another man. He was close to realizing his fantasy.
Tom pulled Farida to him, lifted her face to his and he kissed her. Farida would always remember that first kiss since it was both passionate but more significantly the precursor to her crossing a line that could not be re- crossed, and to setting in motion events that would last her and her husband a lifetime. She accepted his big tongue into her mouth and her tongue fenced with his. She could feel his big hands roaming all over body now.
In her trance-like state it seemed quite natural that Tom should start to remove his clothing. Both Farida and Abdou watched as the big man removed his shirt to reveal a hugely-muscled chest and then he dropped his trousers and just as Farida had suspected he wore no underwear. His big cock reared up in all is magnificence and Tom was gratified to hear both husband and wife express surprise at his size.
Tom crawled over to the sleeping bag where Farida was sitting and crouched in front of her, his big cock semi erect. He remembered that Eric had told him that the cops were closing in, and he knew he would have to move quickly if he wanted to finish before they cleared the encampment. Farida's head was at the same level as the big man's groin and she was amazed at the whole size and muscularity of this man. Her trance-like state was broken by Tom who said softly "Take my cock into your mouth."
Farida was aghast, "I can't! It's dirty and I've never done that before."
Tom laughed to himself. This wife was indeed naive and yet he was gratified that he would be the first man to have his cock sucked by her. Lifting her face so that she could look into his eyes, Tom said, "As we hear from German ideologists, Germany has in the last few years gone through an unparalleled revolution. The decomposition of the Hegelian philosophy, which began with Strauss, has developed into a universal ferment into which all the “powers of the past” are swept. In the general chaos mighty empires have arisen only to meet with immediate doom, heroes have emerged momentarily only to be hurled back into obscurity by bolder and stronger rivals. It was a revolution beside which the French Revolution was child’s play, a world struggle beside which the struggles of the Diadochi [successors of Alexander the Great] appear insignificant. Principles ousted one another, heroes of the mind overthrew each other with unheard-of rapidity, and in the three years 1842-45 more of the past was swept away in Germany than at other times in three centuries.
"All this is supposed to have taken place in the realm of pure thought.
"Certainly it is an interesting event we are dealing with: the putrescence of the absolute spirit. When the last spark of its life had failed, the various components of this caput mortuum began to decompose, entered into new combinations and formed new substances. The industrialists of philosophy, who till then had lived on the exploitation of the absolute spirit, now seized upon the new combinations. Each with all possible zeal set about retailing his apportioned share. This naturally gave rise to competition, which, to start with, was carried on in moderately staid bourgeois fashion. Later when the German market was glutted, and the commodity in spite of all efforts found no response in the world market, the business was spoiled in the usual German manner by fabricated and fictitious production, deterioration in quality, adulteration of the raw materials, falsification of labels, fictitious purchases, bill-jobbing and a credit system devoid of any real basis. The competition turned into a bitter struggle, which is now being extolled and interpreted to us as a revolution of world significance, the begetter of the most prodigious results and achievements.
"If we wish to rate at its true value this philosophic charlatanry, which awakens even in the breast of the honest German citizen a glow of national pride, if we wish to bring out clearly the pettiness, the parochial narrowness of this whole Young-Hegelian movement and in particular the tragicomic contrast between the illusions of these heroes about their achievements and the actual achievements themselves, we must look at the whole spectacle from a standpoint beyond the frontiers of Germany.
"Ideology in General, German Ideology in Particular: German criticism has, right up to its latest efforts, never quitted the realm of philosophy. Far from examining its general philosophic premises, the whole body of its inquiries has actually sprung from the soil of a definite philosophical system, that of Hegel. Not only in their answers but in their very questions there was a mystification. This dependence on Hegel is the reason why not one of these modern critics has even attempted a comprehensive criticism of the Hegelian system, however much each professes to have advanced beyond Hegel. Their polemics against Hegel and against one another are confined to this – each extracts one side of the Hegelian system and turns this against the whole system as well as against the sides extracted by the others. To begin with they extracted pure unfalsified Hegelian categories such as “substance” and “self-consciousness,” later they desecrated these categories with more secular names such as species “the Unique,” “Man,” etc.
"The entire body of German philosophical criticism from Strauss to Stirner is confined to criticism of religious conceptions. [The following passage is crossed out in the manuscript:] claiming to be the absolute redeemer of the world from all evil. Religion was continually regarded and treated as the arch-enemy, as the ultimate cause of all relations repugnant to these philosophers. The critics started from real religion and actual theology. What religious consciousness and a religious conception really meant was determined variously as they went along. Their advance consisted in subsuming the allegedly dominant metaphysical, political, juridical, moral and other conceptions under the class of religious or theological conceptions; and similarly in pronouncing political, juridical, moral consciousness as religious or theological, and the political, juridical, moral man – “man” in the last resort – as religious. The dominance of religion was taken for granted. Gradually every dominant relationship was pronounced a religious relationship and transformed into a cult, a cult of law, a cult of the State, etc. On all sides it was only a question of dogmas and belief in dogmas. The world was sanctified to an ever-increasing extent till at last our venerable Saint Max was able to canonise it en bloc and thus dispose of it once for all.
"The Old Hegelians had comprehended everything as soon as it was reduced to an Hegelian logical category. The Young Hegelians criticised everything by attributing to it religious conceptions or by pronouncing it a theological matter. The Young Hegelians are in agreement with the Old Hegelians in their belief in the rule of religion, of concepts, of a universal principle in the existing world. Only, the one party attacks this dominion as usurpation, while the other extols it as legitimate.
"Since the Young Hegelians consider conceptions, thoughts, ideas, in fact all the products of consciousness, to which they attribute an independent existence, as the real chains of men (just as the Old Hegelians declared them the true bonds of human society) it is evident that the Young Hegelians have to fight only against these illusions of consciousness. Since, according to their fantasy, the relationships of men, all their doings, their chains and their limitations are products of their consciousness, the Young Hegelians logically put to men the moral postulate of exchanging their present consciousness for human, critical or egoistic consciousness, and thus of removing their limitations. This demand to change consciousness amounts to a demand to interpret reality in another way, i.e. to recognise it by means of another interpretation. The Young-Hegelian ideologists, in spite of their allegedly “world-shattering" statements, are the staunchest conservatives. The most recent of them have found the correct expression for their activity when they declare they are only fighting against “phrases.” They forget, however, that to these phrases they themselves are only opposing other phrases, and that they are in no way combating the real existing world when they are merely combating the phrases of this world. The only results which this philosophic criticism could achieve were a few (and at that thoroughly one-sided) elucidations of Christianity from the point of view of religious history; all the rest of their assertions are only further embellishments of their claim to have furnished, in these unimportant elucidations, discoveries of universal importance.
"It has not occurred to any one of these philosophers to inquire into the connection of German philosophy with German reality, the relation of their criticism to their own material surroundings.
"First Premises of Materialist Method: The premises from which we begin are not arbitrary ones, not dogmas, but real premises from which abstraction can only be made in the imagination. They are the real individuals, their activity and the material conditions under which they live, both those which they find already existing and those produced by their activity. These premises can thus be verified in a purely empirical way.
"The first premise of all human history is, of course, the existence of living human individuals. Thus the first fact to be established is the physical organisation of these individuals and their consequent relation to the rest of nature. Of course, we cannot here go either into the actual physical nature of man, or into the natural conditions in which man finds himself – geological, hydrographical, climatic and so on. The writing of history must always set out from these natural bases and their modification in the course of history through the action of men.
"Men can be distinguished from animals by consciousness, by religion or anything else you like. They themselves begin to distinguish themselves from animals as soon as they begin to produce their means of subsistence, a step which is conditioned by their physical organisation. By producing their means of subsistence men are indirectly producing their actual material life.
"The way in which men produce their means of subsistence depends first of all on the nature of the actual means of subsistence they find in existence and have to reproduce. This mode of production must not be considered simply as being the production of the physical existence of the individuals. Rather it is a definite form of activity of these individuals, a definite form of expressing their life, a definite mode of life on their part. As individuals express their life, so they are. What they are, therefore, coincides with their production, both with what they produce and with how they produce. The nature of individuals thus depends on the material conditions determining their production.
"This production only makes its appearance with the increase of population. In its turn this presupposes the intercourse [Verkehr] of individuals with one another. The form of this intercourse is again determined by production.
[continues in comment]

Hi! I’ve been diagnosed for anxiety since August of this year because I started vaping. Ever since then I’ve adopted an anxious tic where i tense up my muscles where my neck meets my head. I’ve been getting really bad dizzy spells, ringing in the ears daily, killer headaches, feel sick, and when i get dizzy i can’t form coherent sentences. It’s like my brain fully shuts off. I dont know if this is a result of my anxiety that formed from vaping ? But it affects my everyday life to the point it happens everyday and I can’t do basic things.
Is my anxiety so bad that my body is in fight or flight and shuts off to protect me?
Or could it be from Vaping?

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the NOP Universe.
Hey, I hope everyone's doing well!
Today we return to the namesake of this fic, an actual lesson about animals. This one focuses on Koalas! One of Australia's most recognisable critters. I hope you enjoy.
It's hardly worth mentioning, seeing as I'm an infrequent poster at the best of times, but I'll not have another chapter out for a few weeks due to limited free time and devoting most of my writing time to an upcoming ficnapping. Be sure to look out for that!
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Memory transcription subject: Rysel, Venlil Environmental Researcher
Date [Standardised human time]: 8th September 2136
“Koalas!”
Bernard’s energised voice boomed through the air as the classroom's monitor flickered into life, images of this paws lecture topic popping up one after the other until the entire screen was filled with a collage of furry quadrupeds.
Squee! I’ll never get tired of this, it’s all so cool!
As usual the sight of something new stirred immediate discussion, hushed murmurs swelling into vibrant discourse in little more than a heartbeat. Most of the class swiftly huddled together into small herds to bounce ideas around while the rest opted to stick to the solace of their own thoughts as they took in the display.
I’d be quite happy in either situation, though seeing as Sandi had already sunk into deep concentration and Kailo had peeled off to talk with Ennerif and Solenk, it seemed the decision had been made for me on this occasion. Wasting no more time on idle inspection of the people around me, I focused my full attention forward, eager to form first impressions before the lesson began in earnest.
Now then, time to make some educated guesses. What traits does this animal have? I wonder if I’ll get any right this paw?
Professional assumptions went paw-in-paw with the lectures, examining and coming up with hypotheses about the specimens was only natural. Recently however, I’d started to make a little game of it to make things even more interesting than usual. A veritable bonfire of ideas had been set ablaze within me, fueled by my newfound knowledge of Earthen wildlife. Every flash and spark of the flame was a fresh theory I could try to apply to the lectures. It was an invigorating exercise that further stoked my unceasing wonderment.
So far I’d only done this once during the previous class and, to my disappointment, I’d not done too well.
I was right when I guessed that chickens were omnivores, but wrong in my assumption that they could fly. And that red thing on their head, the um… what was it called? The comb! Yes, the comb. I thought that was to attract mates, but it regulates body heat instead. It’s fascinating. Oh! Stars damn it I’m rambling!
I bapped my tail against my leg, the soft thud being just enough to snap me back from my runaway thoughts before I went completely wall-eyed. I was becoming more and more accustomed to getting lost in my own head while remaining conscious of the fact; it was happening so frequently now that it was pretty much impossible not to. Now I was able to pull myself back to the world around me without having to rely on someone else shaking me out of it. Most of the time anyway.
Sandi still keeps an eye on me, and Kailo even decided to help out once without being too snide about it. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Koalas.
Glancing at the furred animals, two things immediately stood out. Firstly, their eyes were in a more central position on their face. And second, all the images showed them being on or close to trees. There were other noteworthy observations of course, such as the Koala’s prominent nose and rounded features, but they fell to the wayside as I honed in on these points first.
Hmmm… ok. I already know to discount the idea that they’re predators just from eye position, so let’s get that thought out of here. Maybe omnivorous? Herbivore? Agh no, I can’t just guess that for the sake of guessing, that’s the same problem! Hrm, it’s tough making these assumptions now that everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.
Nevermind, I’ll focus on the other thing. All the trees make me think they’re arboreal, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. I wonder what else they-
Clearing his throat, Bernard broke my concentration, his call for attention silencing the murmuring conversation and redirecting everyone's focus to the lecturer's podium.
His gaze panned across the room as he waited for everyone to settle, a beaming smile lighting up his face, “As ever I’m delighted to see you all get so into the subject matter from the get go. I’m looking forward to hearing what you were discussing should you wish to share. For now though, how about we get started, hm?”
A chorus of merry bleats rang out from across the audience, ears and tails flicking happily in agreement. Bernard's grin grew in tandem with the class's fervour, clasping his hands together enthusiastically as he launched into the lesson, “Excellent! Then let’s get started.”
The pictures on screen dissolved away until only one remained, enlarging to cover the entire monitor with the fluffy grey face of a Koala peacefully reclining in the crook of a tree.
“Ah, there we are,” Bernard’s baritone timbre drifted through the room as he looked up at the image, his own tone reflecting the relaxed attitude of the animal on screen, “He looks so comfortable doesn’t he? Perfectly at peace with the world, not too surprising considering they sleep almost 20 hours a day. A full paw!”
A wave of beeps and gasps rippled through the herd, punctuated by a single yawn-dressed comment from Rova, “A full paw? Hwuuu… jealous.”
Her drowsy remark elicited several whistling giggles from the herd, Bernard's own jovial chortle joining them as he turned to face her, “Late evening Rova?”
I twisted a little in my seat, panning an eye in Rova’s direction just in time to see her bleary eyes bulge open and her ears shoot up, now intensely aware of the fact she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought she had.
Sitting up abruptly, she hastily tapped down errant tufts of wool that’d flared in surprise as she composed herself, though her nervousness at becoming the centre of the class's attention was still plain for all to hear, “Uh- I um… achem, a little bit yes, um- …sorry. Lokki dragged me out to a movie viewing in the rec centre. It went on pretty late.”
A melodramatic bray from the other side of the room drew everyone's ears away from Rova to the now aghast Lokki, paw splayed across his chest in faux indignation, “Dragged you? Well excuse me for trying to broaden your horizons with human movies. That’ll be the list time I- …Ahaaaa…”
Lokki’s theatrics were cut short by a heavy yawn of his own, a swell of whistling laughter rolling through the herd as vibrant bloom lit up his snout, a sight that elicited a particularly amused bleat from Rova.
Turning away from the duo I looked back at Bernard, pleased to see that he was chuckling along with us. Behaviour like Lokki’s would never have been tolerated in my school and university days but, in stark contrast, Bernard revelled in it, the liveliness of his students fueling his own bombastic style of teaching. It was a pleasant change of pace having a teacher who let us all be ourselves in class; provided we weren’t too disruptive to the lesson plan.
Speaking of which.
His laughter still rumbling through the air, Bernard clapped his hands to pull everyone's focus back to him, “Ok, ok, let’s get back to it then shall we? Rova. Lokki. Hopefully the two of you can stay awake long enough until you can grab yourselves a coffee.”
As the class settled down and the last few giggling beeps petered out, Benard pointed a hand to the screen, “So, the Koala. Let’s start simple shall we? They are herbivorous marsupials native to the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Easily recognised the world over, they are a well known and beloved symbol of their homeland, along with other animals such as the Kangaroo and the Emu. The former of which you might remember from one of our earlier lectures.”
Indeed I did remember, along with how angry Bernard had gotten after some speh-head had derided the Yotul after he explained how he held specific disdain for such attitudes.
Uuuggghh… I never want to see him angry again. So chilling.
I shook my ears in an effort to dismiss the unpleasant memory, panning my eyes back to the monitor to try and distract myself by inspecting the Koala’s physical appearance once more. Thankfully, by some Star's blessed intervention, Bernard had the exact same idea.
“Koala’s are rather squat in stature, ranging around sixty to eighty-five centimetres in length and weighing little more than fifteen to sixteen kilograms at their full size. As you can see, the fur of this fellow before you is a lovely silvery grey, but their fur can also sport a chocolaty brown hue as well. Arguably the most distinctive part of their appearance is their head, being rather large for their body size and having rounded ears, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes. These are often brown but variations do occur.”
It didn’t slip past my notice that Bernard didn’t bother to point out that the Koala’s eyes were forward facing. I didn’t think he’d simply forgotten, so perhaps he just felt it wasn’t necessary given that he’d already stated it was herbivorous. Either way, no one stuck up a paw or tail to question him.
“Now this will hardly be surprising considering how long they sleep, but Koala’s are largely sedentary and it’s rather easy to see why when you have a look into the contents of their diet.”
With the press of a button the Koala on screen was replaced by images of vibrant green vegetation. Soaring trees and flowering shrubbery weaved together across landscape framed pictures pulled admiring trills from the herd, the diversity of the plant life being shown standing as a reminder that it wasn’t only animal life that flourished on Earth.
After giving everyone the chance to take in the picturesque scenes, Bernard casually hammered that point home, “This is eucalyptus or, more accurately, a choice selection of more than 700 plants belonging to the eucalyptus genus, though the Koala itself favours 30 of them in particular.”
700!? Stars…
Realising that my ears had drooped in my momentary awe, I twisted them back to tune into the lesson, only for them to splay out in shock at the next words to come out of Bernard's mouth.
“The leaves of these plants are the primary food source of the Koala and there are a couple things worth mentioning when talking about these plants. For starters they do not have much nutritional or caloric value, leading to the Koala’s low-energy lifestyle. Additionally, they contain toxic compounds.”
A shiver instantly ran through the herd, ears flicking rapidly in confusion and alarm followed by a few quizzical whispers. It didn’t take long for someone to decide to give a proper voice to the murmuring.
“Excuse me Doctor. Did we hear that right? Their diet is made up of toxic flora?” Vlek’s grumbling incredulity cut through the herd's mutterings with ease. Until Kailo’s recent change of heart, the fifty something rotation old blonde Venlil had been a close second in terms of scepticism. Mercifully his rebuttals had always been relevant questions as opposed to ranting diatribes, so he at least remained on topic if nothing else.
Bernard nodded in confirmation, smiling back at Vlek while absentmindedly twirling the end of his moustache, “You heard me right, they do indeed consume plants that are toxic. Just not to them.”
Any worry or uncertainty still clinging to the herd was swept away by the provision of the glaringly obvious answer, leaving me chuckling inwardly at the oversight.
Ah of course! The plant might be poisonous but they’ll have evolved to deal with that. Stars… I’m so used to expecting the unexpected with Earth that I didn’t even consider the simplest solution.
“I see, thank you Doctor,” Vlek replied, a tinge of interest still audible in his tone, “I assume they’ve developed some adaptation to become immune to the harmful effects?”
The question immediately evoked a smirk from our teacher, but he hurriedly suppressed it while bobbing his head, “They have indeed. There are several factors that aid in their digestion of eucalyptus leaves without succumbing to the plant's baleful properties. The first is a part of the intestinal tract called the cecum. It contains a microbiome that allows the Koala to digest the eucalyptus. Coupled with this is an enzyme in the Koala’s liver that helps them break down the toxins. They are also capable of sniffing out the plants with the least amount of toxins, ensuring that they ingest as little as possible.”
Pausing for a breath Bernard looked back at the screen before turning to face us, another grin curling at the edges of his mouth as he continued with his explanation, “This is mostly for adult Koala’s, because while their young also possess these same adaptations, they don’t just go straight to munching through foliage right after being born. No, they need a little help making that jump and getting a stomach full of all that good gut bacteria. It’s nothing bad, but those of a sensitive stomach may wish to prepare themselves for this next part.”
Bernard’s assurances did little to assuage the concern that his warning had foisted upon us. Having been exposed to so much of the weirdness Earth had to offer everyone always ended up on edge whenever Bernard gave advice like this, even if he did say it in jest.
What strange nonsense thing do Koala pups do then? Judging by the way he’s acting it probably isn’t something as simple as drinking milk from the mother. Hmmm…
“So,” Bernard began, snapping us from our pensive stupor, “Young Koala’s, known as joeys, have a gestation period of thirty-five days on average, which is approximately forty-two paws. Once born they travel from the birth canal to a pouch in their mother so that they can continue to develop and grow. In the pouch the joey finds and latches onto one of two teats and these provide the newborn with a steady stream of nourishing milk. It spends the next six to seven months growing in the pouch, its eyes, ears, and fur all developing as time goes on.”
Okay, interesting. But this is exactly how I thought it’d go. What’s different?
The unexpected normalcy of the Koala’s birth and growth cycle had calmed everyone's nerves, only to be replaced with an air of suspicion as we waited with rapt attention for Bernard to drop the other claw and upend our expectations like he always did.
Not wanting to keep us in further suspense he forged ahead, the tempo of his voice picking up as the smile started to crease his face once more, “Now to make the switch from milk to eucalyptus, the mother also feeds the joey a substance called pap. It comes from the cecum I mentioned earlier, and contains all the gut bacteria required to help the young Koala in making the switch to eucalyptus.”
He stopped and looked around, searching us for a reaction to what I felt was a rather bland statement of fact. What was it he was saying without actually saying? Koala pups drink milk to mature and then include this pap substance so that they can start eating plants. I don’t see what-
The cecum is part of the intestine.
I blinked.
I blinked again, the intrusive interruption scouring my brain clean of any other thought bar the one it’d just implanted itself in the forefront of my mind.
Oh stars. They-
“They eat their own poop!?”
The shocked bleat shattered the peace of the room to reveal that most if not all of us had come to the same tail curling conclusion. As the hall filled with unrestrained vocalisations of disgust, an ‘Ugh’ over here and a ‘Blegh’ over there, Bernard’s own bellowing laughter joined the throng of voices.
“Ha! Everytime! Each and every time. Clearly it doesn’t matter if my students are Human or Venlil. Whenever someone learns about the Koala’s dietary development the reaction is the same!”
Pleased with himself beyond reason, Bernard chuckled away while the rest of us grappled with this ghastly reality. While there were plenty of animals that feasted on things that ranged from simply unappealing all the way to the stomach churningly grotesque, I’d never heard of an animal that actively consumed the excrement of its own species. Benefits aside, the prospect of having to do that to survive to adulthood sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
Ewww… Stars, I hope I forget this feeling by 2nd meal. They’re serving sturen and magamroot stew later. I was really looking forward to it.
With the herds mood beginning to temper Bernard tapped the podiums controls, removing the verdant collage of eucalyptus to display several similar yet distinct environments, still chortling merrily to himself in the process, “Ok then, with that little foray into their diet complete, why don’t we look at their habitat in more detail? As you might imagine given their diet and arboreal nature, Koala’s live in forested regions, and can be found in tropical and temperate zones. About a century ago they were classed as a vulnerable species, however efforts were made to turn this around and increase their numbers. Sadly the largest factor in their decline was human activity, as the fertile lands that gave rise to their bountiful forests were coveted farm land for our settlements.”
It was strange to hear Bernard so matter of factly admit to humanity's negative impacts on other species. He’d alluded to such things in the past but always with an air of caution, carefully pawing the line between honestly answering a question while not painting humanity as uncaring and destructive. AKA, the ‘predators’ we’d all initially expected them to be.
Perhaps his comfort in making such admissions was a reflection of the class's comfort with him, for no one so much as batted an ear. Even Kailo, who I would’ve expected to jump at the chance to use this as a prime example of predatory danger, only flicked an ear in stern yet silent concern.
A cough from Bernard drew my attention back, a new picture on screen that showed a forest from a bird's-eye view. Drawn across the image were around a dozen ringed areas, some bordering one another while others overlapped to some degree. It took me a moment, but I soon recognised that what I was looking at was a map, the rings representing what I assumed to be territories. And it didn’t take much effort to guess who each one belonged to.
“From habitats we move onto behaviours, so let’s start with territories. Koala’s are solitary animals. Yes, despite being herbivores. Considering they’re only awake for roughly four hours of the day I can hardly blame them. Lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. Jokes aside, once they mature they are quite independent, carving out a little slice of land for themselves, as displayed in this example, called a Home Range. That is not to say they go it alone and leave everything else behind however. Rather, as shown in the map behind me, they live in their own space while still being part of a larger social group.”
With another press of his pad the picture was updated to show one of two symbols in each segment, along with a key to the side of the map displayed in helpful Venlang. A quick glance told me that the symbols were representing whether the territory belonged to a male or female of the species.
“As you can see there is quite a bit of overlap between different Koala’s territories. It is in these areas that most of the socialising takes place between neighbours. The trees in these locations represent the few areas where intrusion across territories is acceptable for the sake of social interaction. Outside of that the Koala’s stick to their own territories for the most part, with the exceptions of Koala’s who are passing through, attempting to become part of the social group themselves, or dominant males who sometimes go off into another Koala’s range. But how do they know where one range begins and another range ends you might ask? Well, this brings us onto the next part of the lecture. How do Koala’s communicate?”
Wiping away the map from the monitor, Bernard loaded up a video of a Koala sitting in a tree and pressed play. Head held high, the Koala’s body shook as it belted out a reverberating call into the wilderness that could only be described as a garbled combination of a car engine failing to turn over mixed with the hiccups of someone with a particularly sore throat.
That’s how they sound? Oof that must be rough on the lungs.
I clearly wasn’t the only one to share such a thought, because I clocked Sandi tracing a paw along her neck as the noise went on, ears fluttering in discomfort at the noise.
Bernard himself cleared his own throat as the video came to an end, minimising it and replacing it with another image of a tree with a Koala rubbing up against the bark, “I think they’ve got me beat on who’s got the deeper voice!”
His joke garnered several amused beeps, a rare reaction that caused a beaming smile to shine across his face at lighting speed, “Oh you’re too kind. I’ll be here all week. Now where were we? Oh yes! Communication. As you’ve just heard, Koala’s are capable of loud low pitched bellows that can carry over vast distances. These express everything from ‘Hello I’m over here’ to ‘This is my turf, stay away’. Bellowing is more common in the males than the females, opting for shouting matches as opposed to outright fights when it comes to asserting dominance. Other vocal expressions include grunts, wails, and snarls if they’re acting particularly angsty. Mother and joey pairs also communicate through gentle clicking, squeaking, and murmuring sounds. And there’s one more thing worth mentioning. Something they have in common with Humans and Venlil when it comes to emoting.”
Really? They do something we do?
Curious, I pressed myself against the desk, straining as close as I could to once more scrutinise the Koala’s features. Not a lot stood out to me at first, the grey marsupial not sharing many similarities with a Venlil that I could identify.
Ok think. We show emotion with our ears, tails, and our wool on occasion. They don’t have tails so it’s obviously not that. Wool standing on end is more a reaction than a conscious expression. So it must be the ears then.
To my quiet satisfaction, my hunch was soon validated by Bernard, “As well as their vocalisations, Koala’s are very emotive through their facial features. Just like humans, they use their mouths and lips to show how they feel, but these tend more towards the aggressive side of the scale than what you might see on a human. Regarding yourselves however, Koala’s utilise their ears in tandem with their mouth movements when showing strong emotion.”
I was delighted to hear that my assumption was correct, a little happy flick twisting out through my tail and bapping against my chair with a muted thump against the plastic.
Hehe yes! Got one right!
“Now then, we are getting close to lunchtime so I’ll finish this segment off with something I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Diplomacy.”
Perplexed mutterings followed in the wake of the bizarre inclusion to the lecture, my own thoughts being dominated by bewilderment as I tried and failed to make sense of how the two could possibly be related.
Why would Koala’s, or any animal for that matter, be linked to diplomacy? Hmmm...
I could understand dispatching exterminators to deal with a predator issue as a show of goodwill, that at least includes animals, but Humans aren’t like that so I think I can safely scratch that off the list.
Maybe the humans who live in that region benefited from Koala’s in some way. Could they have gotten something from them? But what?
Hopefully not what the pups get from their mothers.
Agh no! Begone awful intrusive thoughts. Blegh! I don’t need that in my head.
As I wrestled with the short-lived revulsion inflicted upon me by my Star's damned subconscious, Bernard placed a new image on screen, one that was decidedly different from all that had preceded it.
On screen were more than a couple dozen pictures of humans. Some were pictured alone while others congregated in large groups while cameras surrounded them from all angles. Across all the images, I noted two common themes. First of all, a solid majority of the humans were wearing formal wear similar to what I’d seen worn by UN representatives on TV. If the gaggle of journalists in the background of the photos didn’t already confirm my suspicions, then it was this similarity which made me conclude they were all people of some importance. Likely politicians judging from context clues.
Secondly, each of the individuals was interacting with a Koala in some form. Some cradled one against their chests while others were feeding it eucalyptus leaves or pellets of some kind. One of the assumed politicians had become an impromptu bed for a snoozing bundle of fur, a gleeful smile spread across their face as they lovingly gazed down at the sleeping Koala in their lap.
As I continued to stare at the assorted photos something clicked into place, a sudden spark flickering into life. A burgeoning light of comprehension that flared and swelled with every wide-eyed breath I took. Some things still escaped me, things I hoped would soon be explained, but in staring at all of the humans happy smiling faces, I was struck with an instant of pure understanding.
If someone, say a Nevok for instance, offered to gift me a creature that was common to them but which might exotic and breathtaking to a Venlil, how could my feelings not be swayed? How could I walk away from that encounter and not have grown closer to them as a result?
“Koala diplomacy,” Bernard waved his hand up at the monitor, a slight reverence in his tone, “My favourite kind of soft power diplomacy. Where political leaders take photo ops with Koala’s and, on occasion, the Australian government loans Koala’s to other nations for a time to bolster positive relations. It certainly helps that Koala’s are a beloved animal worldwide, drawing large crowds and revenue for countries fortunate enough to host the adorable critters.”
The truly alien concept predictably sparked instant discussion in the herd, two polar opposite schools of thought swiftly cementing themselves as the most popular opinions. Simultaneously, I heard one voice trill excitedly while another scoffed at what they clearly saw as a ridiculous and offensive notion.
“Squee! That’d be so cool! I’d love to get the chance to see a Liri from Coila. Remember the Rainbow Boa? Think of that shimmering effect and colour but put it on a bird! Ah! I’ve only heard their song on video. It’d be a treat to hear it in person!”
Ooo! I’ve read about them! I’d love to get up close to one.
“Loaning. As if animals are property to be hoarded and traded? Pugh! Another predatory trait the humans don’t want to acknowledge for what it is.”
Ugh, typical. Jump right to the worst possible option.
However, despite my dismissal of their disparaging fumings, an uncomfortable thought pressed upon my mind. While it was plain to see how much humans cared for the Koala, it didn’t change the fact that humans did keep animals as property just as the scornful herd member had said.
This begged a rather important, disquieting question. Aside from keeping some animals as cattle, a stomach tightening minefield I had no desire to step a claw onto right now, how else did humans keep other creatures. And how did they treat them?
Before I was fully conscious of doing it my paw was in the air, the question primed on my tongue.
Noticing my elevated paw Bernard pointed at me, smiling warmly, “Yes Rysel? What’s on your mind?”
Sorry Bernard. I hope this one’s not too awkward for you to answer.
Flicking my ear in appreciation, and waiting for everyone to settle enough so that I could be heard, I voiced my concerns as neutrally as possible, “Thank you Doctor. I uh, just had a thought. We know that humans keep certain animals for… particular reasons, and we know why. From how you’ve spoken about Koala’s I think it's fair to say that the same cannot be said for them. However, this makes me wonder, what other reasons do humans have for keeping animals and how do you treat them?”
A flash of surprise blinked across Bernard's eyes but vanished so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined it. Had he not expected such a question? Maybe he was just shocked that it’d been me who’d ended up asking it?
Stars, am I so predictable that no one expects me to ask difficult questions?
Unfortunately, a quick glance at my deskmates seemed to prove that to be the case, as both Sandi and Kailo were looking at me with differing degrees of astonishment flapping in their ears.
Well speh.
“A very good point Rysel, certainly one that’s worth raising. Yet another example of you all anticipating what I have to say before I can bring it up myself.” Bernard tapped the podium, switching off the monitor before returning his focus to me, “We won’t be needing that. I’ve nothing prepared that I can show you and we’re heading to lunch in a few minutes anyway. Still, that’s plenty of time to give you a bit of an answer.”
A bit? What does he mean just a bit?
Made even more curious by Bernard's preempted admission that he wasn’t going to fully answer my query, I dialled both my ears on him, fixing him with an inquisitive stare as he started to explain with a tone that was noticeably more nonchalant than any of his previous explanations.
“So, animals in captivity for reasons other than what you already know. Honestly I would love to delve into other reasons regarding why we keep animals. However, I have a lesson plan in the works that I hope to share with you all in the not too distant future. Some of it touches upon this very topic and I’d quite like to bundle it all together. That said, I can tell you how animals in captivity are treated. In short, the answer is very well. There are a mountain of laws both on private and public interests that govern the standards and ethical treatment of animals, and breaches of these laws are quite severe even for relatively minor infractions.”
While I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the vague answer to what was really the bulk of my question, I was at least satisfied by Bernard’s assurances that animals in captivity, such as the Koala, were well looked after. Considering the barely subdued grumbling coming from some corners of the audience it was clear that several of the herd didn’t believe Bernard outright, but I trusted him to be honest. Additionally, the mention of an upcoming lecture focused on humans keeping animals caused quite the buzz.
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at exploring the topic further. He’d pretty much confirmed we wouldn’t be talking about cattle farms, for which I was relieved, but that still left a huge amount of uncertainty in what was to come.
Humans keeping animals as cattle was a forgone conclusion. As horrifying as that reality was, it was one I could understand from a detached and strictly clinical point of view. Being predators they ate meat and therefore they kept cattle. But the concept of keeping animals for any other reason baffled me.
What could be the purpose? The diplomacy thing makes sense now that I have context, but what other reasons could they have.
The class's discussions were interrupted by the recognisable ring of the break bell, the shift in attention eliciting a change in conversation from confused hypotheses to peppy conversation on how everyone was planning to spend their break and what they had in mind for 2nd meal.
“Well I can see everyone’s excited for lunch, and who am I to disappoint,” chuckling Bernard waved us all up from our seats, pocketing his pad from the podium and heading to open the classroom door for us, “Enjoy your break, get a good rest along with a hearty meal, and I’ll see you all back here at the usual time.”
As everyone else filed out I stayed behind, waving at Sandi and Kailo as they left, and pawing over to Bernard once he and I were the only ones left in the room.
Ears folded down and with an apologetic tinge in my voice I greeted him as I sidled up to him, “Hey Bernard, I uh… sorry if that last question was unexpected.”
Chortling in reply, Bernard waved a hand through the air in a sign I’d come to understand meant ‘not a problem’.
“No need to apologise Rysel. It was a good question and most certainly not a problem.”
Heh, called it.
I sighed, allowing tension I didn’t realise I’d been holding to relax itself from my shoulders, “Phew, that’s a relief. I’m glad. I’m curious to hear what this new lesson is you’ve got in store for us by the way.”
Bernard wagged a finger at me, throwing up his eyebrows in mock amazement, “Oh are you now? Well I’m afraid you’ll have to remain curious for the time being. It’s going to be quite the surprise if all goes to plan. But…”
He trailed off, glancing at me before looking to the door like he was making sure no one else was around.
Wait, is he going to tell me? Oh please yes let me know now!
Stopping myself from jumping on the spot in excited anticipation, and trying my damndest to stop my tail from wagging in equal measure, I stared up at Bernard as he stewed in his thoughts before turning back to face me.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I’m working with Alejandro and Tolim to get something together. A trip that’s not a trip as it were. And when it happens, I’m going to need a few of the more accepting members of the class to lend me a hand. I’m hoping you and a couple others will be able to help with that?”
A trip that’s not a trip? What does that mean? Agh who cares about that right now! Bernard’s relying on me to help out!
Still trying not to keep myself from bouncing around with pup like glee I swished my tail and nodded my head in joint agreement, happy to help with whatever Bernard had in store for us, “Of course! Anything you need I’ll be there to lend a paw. You can count on me!”
A broad warm smile lit up Bernard's face, a hand patting me on the shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you Rysel. I knew I could rely on you but it still warms my heart to hear it. And, as thanks for this and for the many times you’ve shown your support, the surprise includes a little something special I think you’d appreciate the most.”
If my earlier enthusiasm had been at a nine, then the implication of a supposed gift sent it rocketing all the way to a hundred in a heartbeat.
“Wait… WHAT!? What do you mean? What are you doing?”
As impossible as it seemed, Bernard's grin grew even wider as I almost lost myself in wool shaking exhilaration, “Call it my own form of Koala diplomacy. But I’m afraid that’s all I can say for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise even for you!”
“Oh you ass!” Whistling jovially I bapped my tail against Bernard’s leg in fake indignation, evoking a barking bellowing laugh from the man himself.
Still laughing, the two of us departed the class and made for the canteen, my rumbling stomach leading me on while my mind spun with fantastical thoughts as to what Bernard had prepared for us.
And what specifically he had in store for me.

Hi! I’ve been diagnosed for anxiety since August of this year because I started vaping (i’m ashamed ik). Ever since then I’ve adopted a tic where i tense up my muscles where my neck meets my head. I’ve been getting really bad dizzy spells, ringing in the ears daily, killer headaches, feel sick, and when i get dizzy i can’t form coherent sentences. It’s like my brain fully shuts off. I dont know if this is a result of my anxiety that formed from vaping ? But it affects my everyday life to the point it happens everyday and I can’t do basic things.
Is my anxiety so bad that my body is in fight or flight and shuts off to protect me?
Or could it just be from Vaping?

I had my tonsillectomy on May 3rd, so I’m currently on day 18 of post op. When I drink fluids, I still get the feeling like they are going to come out of my nose. About when did this go away for anyone else , or how long did it take? I also still have the white film, ear fullness (right ear), and a persistent headache in my right temple. Did any of you have a persistent headache weeks after your surgery? I was prescribed Oxycodone 5mg for the post op every 6 hours, but I stopped taking it after week one.
On a side note , I read through this thread to prepare me. Be realistic that it’s going to hurt , but don’t let the scary stories turn you away. It’s not the MOST painful thing I’ve ever done. The worst part, in my experience, was the first night because my uvula was massive and I felt like my throat was going to close lol. Also , if you have never taken narcotics before, don’t take the full dose at first so you can get a feel for how they make you feel.

Few days ago I ordered Magnesium Biglycinate with added b6. ... It was a high dose I was not aware, having 1420mg Magnesium Glycinate and 200 mg pure elemental Magnesium and 2 mg b6
I was taking vitamin d3 and b12 also for deficiency. So I took I mag capsule with 4000iu d3 and 2mg b12
Since then I am havinf extremely bad effects... My stomach is upset, pins and needles in body, fatigue, headache, dry skin, pale color, dry mouth and dry eyes, weired sensations around ears and neck below the mouth. flank pain and pins and needles over liver and stomach.. joint pain and Inam unable to sleep. Shallow breathing , it seems like my whole body is on fire.
I just had my heamoglobin checked yesterday it was 126 and today I checked it was 114 , I was wondering what could be the reason. I feel so bad right now and the Doctors arnt of no help.
I also checked my calcium yesterday and which was high at 2.67 and b12 was 1475.
can anybody advise what could have went wrong.

it happened really really quickly for which i’m so grateful for, but it was also so unexpected that i don’t really know what to say. i was sitting on my bed right next to the cage when i heard kinda digging sounds so i looked over wanting to see who it was, when i saw my sweet girl daisy all sprawled out. she was still moving at that time & im sorry to say i just froze because i immediately knew this was not a position a normal healthy rat would take. i wish i had moved in that moment, had taken her out immediately, just anything, but i froze.
she made three weird tiny sounds, it wasn’t like a cough or a sneeze, i can’t really describe it, and immediately two of her sisters ran over to investigate but i think by that moment she was already gone. i’m honestly so shocked, but doing the maths it’s been 15 months since i brought my girls home & they were already a couple months old at that point, so maybe i shouldn’t be so shocked? but they never really grew that big (rescue situation) and they’ve never once showed signs of aging and slowing that this just hit me.
i just feel so guilty because ive been down with a lung infection since last week & i couldn’t do anything for them. i just barely got out of bed to feed and change the water and i felt so so so awful that i couldn’t clean them properly or let them out, i finally felt better a bit today and thought i might do it on thursday, and now this happened. i was looking for pictures to attach so i could show everyone my beautiful daisy but i rlly am not one to take pictures which i regret so badly now so my words are all i have.
daisy was one of three of my white girls, she wasn’t entirely white, she had one tiny fleck of grey between her head and shoulder blades & those adorable dumbo ears. she always liked to climb the most, honestly sometimes id find her hanging basically upside down and she’s the reason i really entirely changed up the set up so we could include even more climbing. first thing she’d do during free roam was climb up on the cage and survey the situation. she didn’t like to be held much, but when she had something to munch on you could scratch behind her ears. yesterday i gave them cucumber slices, and she sat right at the door and i did just that & i just didn’t think it would be the last time i’d get to do it.
i guess this is tonight’s cautionary tale to hold your babies a little tighter and appreciate every second just a little more and to take those silly videos and pictures even if they don’t look good. make that short time count.

The game opens with constant gunfire and artillery shells bursting, the sound of men yelling as gunfire stifles the darkness of the night. We focus in on a platoon of troops in a foxhole, like lightning a shell hits close to, wiping out most of the men. As the ringing of the remaining ears clear they realize they need to retreat as they can no longer stay in the tight, cramped, flooded hole they've found themselves in and the only way back is up.
Every player must roll a d10, the player with the lowest role finds a piece of wood stuck within their leg, not bleeding but obstructing the ability to run without help, the players decide to deal with the issue there and then or deal with assisting the injured player in the retreat to try and fix it in a safer location.
As the players leave the foxhole a machine gun fire begins to target the group
Triggers a sequence
Flairs shoot lighting up the battlefield as you hear a whistle from the enemy blows They're crossing no man's land.
This sequence where the players must make a 200-250yd dash for a trench behind the foxhole.
Players take priority in turn rotation

Fleeing is (Mov x 5 =x yd) 

Every player must make a dex roll on their turn
-a critical success allows them to run uninhibited
-a regular success causes equipment to get snagged on barbed wire causing them to get slowed
-a failure causes you pouches or bags to rip dropping a small amount of ammunition
-a critical failure causes you to get cut by barbed wire dealing 1d4 damage
Players carrying injured role with penalty die
On the machine guns turn roll to full auto at players but role with triple penalty dice due to multiple shots, out of range, and fast targets. You can decide volley size and damage per shot, BE NICE it's just the beginning
Once all players have made it across no mans land they will arrive at the door of a rather large bunker, they bang on the door and request assistance. After a bit of pleas a slot on the large door opens with a bun barrel sticking out. A rather shooken young man asks the players to tell him “where are you from” clearly trying to see if the players are enemies. A player can say anything but the second the man hears perfect english or french he swings open the door. The players see a young man with a shotgun, couldnt be over 20 years old. He commands the players to get in fast. As all the players enter he immediately goes to slam the door shut seeming to struggle to do so.
You meet Bert Newman a strapping young man from new york a very charming quick witted kid, he's always there to boost morale and is always ready to get work done. Its best to slowly show off his personality with small talk while he leads you down the winding halls.
After a few turns and twists you arrive at a sort of check point with a man with a british bren gun points his barrel down the hall, directly at Bert and the players.
You meet Rook a very large man sporting a very clean uniform, he seems concerned and Isn't too welcoming to the new residents, hes a harsh with his words, and presents himself as no nonsense, he does have a soft spot for Bert, able to handle his constant cracks and stories. I recommend making some dialogue for them to have every now and then to show their relationship.
After the players are done interacting have rook notice the player with the injury if it hasnt been taken care of he’ll direct the players to go to the infirmary to get fixed up. Have Bert offer to show them where to go. On the way to the infirmary try to keep engaging with the players as Bert
As the players arrive they will notice a large room with a few injured men, a very poor sight to behold. Once you arrive at the entrance you will meet a beautiful young lady dressed in a nurses gown
This is Louise, say hi to Louise :D. A pretty woman with a caring face, but with a hint of concern and fear.
She welcomes you and immediately notices the protruding fragments sticking out of the injured player, she looks back up and tells them to take a seat. The players can interact with Bert more, with each other, or Louise. Try to have Bert and Louise interact if you can, they are great friends.
After the player is patched up they can leave. They can follow Bert back to rook where Rook will give you the task to retrieve barbed wire from the armory as they want to start adding more defenses for the door incase of being invaded. Bert will again offer to guide the players
You begin your journey to the armory, once again try to interact if you can, mention what could have brought Bert to the war and his family. At a certain point Bert will trip a grenade wire trap, everyone roles a dex or dodge role. Bert is killed in the blast anyplayer that fails gets knocked to prone, you can determine if they were close enough to take damage. After all the dust clears the players see Bert's body slumped against a wall lifeless,they can't save him. If the players decide to search him they will find a mostly burnt map of the bunker, some ammo for a shotgun and a letter addressed to what you can assume is his family.
If the players continue to go and retrieve the barbed wire they will get a chance to change their weapons if they choose. As they return they notice Bert’s body is now gone, with a blood trail leading around an separate hallway
Thank you for reading!!!

chapters 1&2
chapter 3
chapter 4
chapter 5
chapter 6
chapter 7
chapter 8
chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
The lecture was supposed to be on Rationality 101, apparently not for Newcomers only. Serene was there to have her back but G was having a hard time focusing.
The boring black uniform more fitting for a hotel receptionist defaced the godlike beauty standing in front of a huge screen. Gentry couldn’t believe her eyes: this was the man she had her hands on a little while ago?
No, it couldn’t be.
It had been just an avatar, too perfect in its unblemished visage, too pure for this world. Yet the man whose face she remembered as if it was etched on the back of her eyelids, who she’d been constantly thinking about, who her hands itched to snatch, was standing right there, in the flesh.
Back in the dreamy simulated world she caught herself thinking that a trim waist like this couldn’t anatomically work on a human, yet here he was: a towering spread of fit shoulders perfectly balanced above the flexible whip of his midsection. The light-grey eyes that betrayed every movement of his pupils were as real as the ones that reflected the mock moon during her test. Below them lay the sharp slope of the cheekbones one could cut themselves on.
The only thing a bit different, apart from the outfit choice, was the young god’s hair. In the simulation, it was flowing and probably too long to be practical. This person’s mane was much shorter and fell down his neck in a neat ponytail, tastefully tamed with a single hairpin.
She had to get her hands on this treasure.
He was making last minute preparations for the lecture, looking through the papers on the desk, dark strands framing his face, light grey eyes sharp in careful concentration.
Professor Q, huh.
He said this was his name, and so did the note on the lecture hall door.
She was sure it was the man who had melted in her arms making the most delicious sounds a male throat could produce.
Had he recognised her?
Unlikely.
At the time of the simulation session, she didn’t have a camera that could pick up her facial features but just to be on the safe side, she decided to go by “G” in his class. There were bound to be lots of people with a name starting with a G, right? What would be the odds it was this particular newcomer that Q had tested that would end up in his class?
The man finally lifted his eyes at the audience and a gentle smile momentarily graced his features before disappearing as if he didn’t see someone he’d expected to.
The holoboard on the wall behind him obediently lit up following his nonchalant gesture. Gentry found it annoying that one needed a pair of special glasses to see all the augmented reality stuff and really navigate the city but again, with Sereen’s help she had more or less gotten used to it in the couple of days she had to deal with the necessities like settling down, getting food and finding her way around Ashtapada.
Still, could they use a piece of chalk or, at least, a marker to write on the board? No need to show off your Fully Automated Luxury Space Communism tech just to write a couple of notes on the board!
On second thought, high-tech-crazy or not, if this city brought up men like this one, she would definitely do her best to stay here to… reap the benefits!
They took a desk next to a huge clear floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the winter garden.
“Professor Q seems a little distracted today,” Sereen said, swiftly tapping a couple of buttons on G’s wrist to show her how to confirm that she was attending the lecture. “He’s usually much more chatty and friendly. I wonder what got into him.”
“Is he?” Gentry responded with an artificial air of indifference. “I just hope he’s more open to a discussion than that Poe guy.”
“He is! And Professor Poe isn’t that bad,” Sereen reprimanded before chuckling a little — since his little secret became known to students, he became known as Holopoe. “Just wait and see, it’s gonna be a blast. Q’s lectures are always very engaging.”
It proved to be utter bullshit.
After fiddling with the symbols on the interactive screen for ten minutes into the class, students getting more and more agitated behind his back, the lecturer seemed to give up. Turning back to the audience, he absentmindedly nodded to a couple of people in the lecture hall and sighed with a painfully fake smile.
“For today’s class, we are going to need to read a certain extract from a book,” he said, tone apologetic for some reason, but it solidified G’s conviction that she already knew this person. “I’ve just sent it to each of your wristcomms. We’ll have some quiet time and read it by ourselves, alright?”
“Reading from the comm?” Sereen mumbled to herself. “Couldn’t he just print them out?”
The rest of the students’ grumbles showed that they shared her disappointment. Q could only hopelessly smile again before returning to his work on the board.
Reading from the little semi-transparent screens was indeed torture. Quickly giving up on trying to awkwardly use gestures for scrolling through the text, she looked out of the window to entertain herself with the garden outside. From the modest height they were sitting at, the people below were quite discernible, partly hidden by the greenery, spread here and there in small groups and pairs. Gentry longed to be there, too. What was the use of being here with the most attractive person in the whole world if the only thing she could see was his back?
Well, the back didn’t look half bad, if she was honest, and what was below also pleased the eye.
But still. It would soon bore even the most easily entertained.
Her gaze fell to a small clearing where a lone male figure was sitting, writing something in a notebook. By the looks of it, the notebook was a real paper-made thing without the bells and whistles usual for Ashtapada. The next thing G noticed was a pair of slender legs, barefoot, stretched to dip the toes into the clear water of the artificial stream.
God bless the urban designers of this place!
The figure lifted the head and in an inconceivably graceful motion, swung the long blond bangs away from the face.
G straightened her back. Was it... Ok, maybe Q was the most handsome man she’d seen in her life but this... This was the younger boy she’d noticed a couple of days back, the one in a plaid skirt, shamelessly flirting with everyone within reach. Today, he wasn’t wearing one but the blue jeans hugging his thighs, rolled up almost to the knees, presented a picture just as tantalizing. Even with the hair was a completely different colour, even though the half-up, half-down style kept his face hidden, she was absolutely certain it was the same person.
Just you wait, young beauty, as soon as this “lecture” was over, your princess in shining armour was coming to pick you up!
Suddenly snapping out of the dull weariness, she turned on the auglasses S helped her obtain earlier and tapped away on her comm screen.
What a chance to give the local text sharing feature a go!
“The garden is pretty, but with a blossom like you, it is truly breathtaking. I wonder if anyone has picked this sweet flower or if anyone dares to,” she typed a cheesy note and folded the message into a neat 3D figurine of an origami paper crane with her fingers in the air.
Was S watching? Screw it, even if she was, she couldn’t read the message with her glasses off, right?
Carefully aiming the device at the lone figure, she launched the crane downwards, and it fluttered like a weightless butterfly in spirals, through the glass and right into the young man’s lap, not disturbing the notebook pages. He started at first at the intrusion but then turned his own glasses on and unfolded the message. A shy smile appeared on his plump lips, and he looked flattered, turning his head around to see if the sender was in sight. Catching no one, he typed something below the initial message and deftly folded it back into a crane that, to G’s surprise, flew directly at her, in uneven spirals along the wall. The man traced it with a smile, propping himself back on his arms, his whole slim body and face on full display now.
God, was he good-looking.
Easily passing the physical border of the glass again, the crane crashed into Gentry’s wristcomm, dutifully delivering the message and betraying her tactical position at the same time. An amused kind of surprise showed on the young man’s face and he waved at her to show that she had been exposed. She waved back, trying to look nonchalant but probably failing miserably.
Very smooth, G, way to go.
The message read, “Is a flower only good for looking at? Not this one.”
Oooh, this boy was playing with fire!
“Hey, G,” Sereen nudged. “Have you finished reading?”
“Mm? Oh, yeah.” Gentry lied easily. She had skimmed the first couple of paragraphs and was sure she’d be able to come up with something if asked.
“Done everybody?” the deep gentle voice called from the holoboard and G’s attention snapped back to the dignified face.
The class murmured affirmatively.
“I’m sorry today’s lecture isn’t as fun as usual,” he admitted. “I must say I’m still unsure how to approach such complex topic as this one. But with your help, I hope we’ll figure it out.”
Everyone seemed to perk up.
“You just read an extract on paradoxes,” Q went on. “And you might be wondering why we are raising a philosophical topic on a rational thinking course.”
“There you go,” Sereen whispered. “He’s back to normal!”
G humphed. This did seem interesting. Was it a good idea to read the extract after all?
Q continued, “In the text, you might have encountered the definition of a paradox. Would anyone explain it with their own words?”
A raised hand and the lecturer’s nod brought some courageous soul to their feet.
“It’s when you start with the correct premises, use consistent logic but wind up with an impossible conclusion,” they said. “There are three types: falsidical, veridical and antimony-type, which are...”
“Correct,” Q smiled and nodded the person back down. It was a smile worth starting a thousand wars over.
“Now there’s a reason why I asked you to read about them. Why do you think people have been fascinated with paradoxes for such a long time?”
S raised her hand and received a kind invitation.
“I might be wrong,” she said. “But it seems that they point at the limitations of our thinking, things that seem rational but in fact aren’t. We feel that with our all-conquering logic we can solve any puzzle but it’s not always the case. Right?”
“This is very insightful,” the teacher confirmed. “It is believed by many that what’s rational is true and therefore what rationality cannot explain must be false.”
“I definitely know someone who would die on that hill,” Gentry grumbled under her breath.
“I’m sorry?” Q asked. “Is there something you wanted to add... sorry, I don’t know your name?”
Still half mad with professor Poe, Gentry stood up. “It’s G, I’m a Newcomer. I was saying how a human mind can fool itself into thinking it knows what it looks at as long as it makes sense. But in reality, it’s not there, like the sky.”
That was the only thing she remembered from that last lecture! She felt the tips of her ears heat up but the kind and considering look on Q’s face showed her gamble paid off.
“These are very insightful observations, G, why don’t we try exploring them together?” — he waived her to sit down and turned back to the class — “Five minutes to discuss how paradoxes might reveal the weaknesses of rational thinking. Send your answers to the board when you’re done.”
“Whoa, daring as usual,” Sereen smiled. “I knew you’d enjoy his class.”
“Now, consider these two questions,” Q said to another student who stood up at his hand wave. “If an unstoppable force meets an indestructible object, what is going to happen?”
The person seemed to contemplate it for a while and the teacher didn’t rush him.
“Isn’t it one of those which are impossible to solve because the existence of the one automatically disproves the existence of the other?”
Q nodded, “Correct. The second one about the barber in a small town is of the same sort. Sereen?”
S stood up too, “The one that shaves all and only men that don’t shave themselves?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “At first, a premise like this seems perfectly reasonable, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” S responded, somewhat rashly. “But it’s clear that a barber like this cannot exist.”
“Wait, really?” Gentry whispered as Q nodded in satisfaction and urged her friend to go on.
“Yes, if we ask ourselves if this barber shaves himself. If he doesn’t, then he is part of the group which he does shave that do not shave themselves, but if he is in this group, then he does shave himself which makes it impossible for him to be this barber by definition.”
While the rest of the class was catching up with the logic, Q’s smile got only wider, more inviting.
“What does it tell us about the nature of the premise then?” he asked.
“That although it seems that it sounds logical on the surface, it is in fact nonsense and we don’t even need to hear the rest of the riddle to discard it completely,” S concluded.
The man chuckled.
“Well, I wouldn’t be that brash, to be honest, but on balance, you’re right,” he said. “If you stay after the lecture, I might recommend a couple of books on the topic. Your Newcomer friend is welcome to stay, too.”
G put up the best of the aloof fronts, “I’d be happy to, Professor.”
“Q is fine,” he smiled again and went on addressing the rest of the class that immediately exploded into a heated discussion.
***
“Basically, what I think we’re supposed to learn from this,” S concluded after a while, standing up so that everyone could hear her. “Is that before applying rationality, we have to make sure that all the premises we are dealing with are in fact realistic. Otherwise, there is no way rational thinking will help us.”
“Excellently put, as always,” Q applauded. “I’d love to see if everyone agrees or has something else to add to the discussion but our time is up. Feel free to write me a letter with your reflections on the topic.”
As interesting as the class was, the urge to leave the premises as soon as the teacher dismissed everyone seemed to be universal and applicable even to the Ashtapadans.
“I have to go now,” Sereen said. “Text you later, ok?” And with a reciprocal nod to Q, disappeared in the doors, joining the rest of the students.
Sadly, she couldn’t recall what they were talking about after the lecture, nor what titles Professor recommended for some home reading. She just hoped she didn’t make a fool of herself.
What Gentry did remember though was that after Q left as well and she came up to the panoramic window, Sereen and the mysterious flower boy were leaving the garden together. And it was hard not to notice that her new friend took off her wristcomm before they took off, and hid it in the tall grass.

I plan on visiting a contractor’s office tomorrow to let him see how it feels.
DISCLAIMER: I have taken the liberty to use substitute names for the people involved. As many have noted in the comments, the dialogue feels out of place and weirdly-spaced. I’ll admit things have been somewhat paraphrased and summarized. Please keep that in mind as you read.
I went into my local hardware store tonight for a quick trip to pick up some supplies I was running low on. Quick in and out trip, 15 minutes at most. Sad to say it didn’t end up being a fast trip because when I arrived at the paint counter, I was stuck behind a contractor who wanted to cause a scene.
The guy in front of me was with his colleague, and they were arguing loudly about which paint finish to choose. They had a substantial number of paint cans on the counter, including some expensive specialty paints. When the contractor got to the counter, he froze and began searching around for an associate, who I presume he wanted to come and mix the paint for him.
The problem was that he didn’t place any orders. He just locked up and stared directly at a young woman who was busy stocking shelves in the next aisle over. After about 30 - 45 seconds of not saying anything, he loudly shouted, “Hey, you!” in his most condescending tone, followed by “Can you come here and mix my damn paint already?!”
His tactic worked, as the employee in question immediately put down her items and walked over. He was doing that typical arms-crossed stance, looking like everything was a giant inconvenience, and I will note, the man still hadn’t specified any of the paints yet.
When this young woman was in speaking range, the contractor began to berate her. “It’s frustrating to see staff just standing around doing nothing when they should be helping customers. Can you do your job and mix my paint?”
“Excuse me?” she responded.
“You heard me. Get off your butt and mix my paint so I can get out of here.”
Now, I would like to note a few things about this interaction up to this point. First, this individual was still in a work uniform…a branded polo for a local contracting company that I won’t name here, but one in which I know the owner pretty well. He’s a family friend. Second, he was still wearing his name tag (Mark, somehow I hope you’re competent enough to find your way here so you can see this story). Because of this, I knew how to address him.
Eventually, he asked the associate very rudely if she’s going to mix his paint, and she flat out told him, “No, I don’t think so. Not after how you’ve treated me. You can talk with my manager.” Good for her. She got on a walkie and called for a manager to come to the paint counter the contractor was towering over and briskly walked off towards the Customer Service counter at the front of the store. The contractor starts loudly complaining about how this is all nonsense and he’s just expressing his rights.
It was at this point where I actually found some courage and decided to give my opinion, unsolicited, just so this guy could get an outside perspective on how much of a jerk he was being. “Excuse me, but your rights don’t protect you from looking like a jerk to random strangers in a hardware store when you treat other people like trash.” The man wheeled around and locked eyes with me. “What did you just say to me?” I just smirked and said, “Oh, hard of hearing are we? I’m pretty sure you heard what I said.”
The man visibly shook on the spot. “This isn’t any of your business, so butt out!”
“I disagree. When I see someone acting like a bully for no good reason, I make it a point to speak up. You seem to think that by claiming your rights, you can say whatever you want without consequence, but that isn’t how it works, sir. Your rights protect you from government overreach for speaking your mind, but they don’t protect you from the consequences you face from others for your words or your actions.”
“That’s beside the point. I’m sick and tired of these lazy workers doing nothing and getting paid for it.” He responded, rather loudly and unaware that there were quite a few people staring at this point. Hooray. Ignorance has entered the chat.
The manager showed up, and he starts in on how he ordered his paint and that the associate in question was VERY rude to him and refused to serve him. He started stating that she told him he wouldn’t get help because he was a contractor when I interjected again.
“Sir, that is NOT what happened. This gentleman didn’t place any orders and immediately started shouting at your employee, just for the sake of being upset. He was rude, unpleasant, and even made unnecessary comments.”
He wheeled around at me again and yelled, “Shut up and mind your business!” before going on his tirade again. Something about lazy workers, something about his rights and speaking his mind.
“You know, this is very unfair of you.” I started again. “You’ve put that poor girl in an unwinnable situation. Now that you’ve raised this untrue complaint, her manager is going to have to have words with her even though she hasn’t done anything wrong. Does that sound fair to you, Mark?” I don’t think he realized he was still in uniform, because he looked at me puzzled at how I knew his name. “How would YOU feel if someone came into your place of business and told your boss a bunch of lies about how YOU were treating them unfairly when you knew perfectly well that it was a lie? Or even better, how would your boss react if he knew you were acting like this WHILE STILL IN UNIFORM with his place of business plastered all over your chest?” When he heard me say the name of his boss, he stopped cold. “Yes Mark. I know your boss VERY well, and I think I might be paying him a visit tomorrow. That is unless you decide to apologize to that girl for being a lying prick instead.”
The guy then became very rushed and suddenly in a colossal hurry. He muttered something about people not minding their own business, to which I replied with, “I’m just eXpReSsInG mY RiGhTs!” Spongebob sarcastic voice and all. He finally placed his paint orders, and the manager oversaw the mixing. His colleague started in about how I better not show up to his office tomorrow…something directed at me, but I wasn’t paying him any attention and brushed him off. I was just staring at Mark and watching him pack up his paint.
Eventually, he got all of his paint cans into his cart and he marched out, but he didn’t apologize to the manager or the employee and gave me a hearty, “Go fuck yourself, asshole!” as he flipped me off. I scanned my items and paid for my supplies, but man, was I smiling from ear to ear.
Afterwards, I made it a point to go and speak with the manager and the employee in the Customer Service center. As expected, the manager was having a conversation with the employee about that customer, and she thanked me for speaking up. I’ve worked retail before, so I know what it’s like having to deal with jerks like Mark. It’d be a cold day in hell before I let a contractor bully an employee then weasel his way into a victim role with management. Not on my watch.
So now my next play is to show up to this contracting office tomorrow. I really hope Mark is there. I hope he’s the opener. I’m going to walk in and just smile at him. Ask to see his manager. Then I think I’m going to go in and just weave the NICEST story about how he treated the employees at the hardware store, so much so that I was compelled to stop in and tell his boss that he has a real winner on his hands, and that I’m a customer for life now.
Maybe that way, he might get a message. MAYBE, he will realise that I could have started a whole shitstorm for him, but I chose not to, because unlike him, I’m not a jerk.
tl;dr (For the upset contractors in this thread who don’t like reading, it seems): Contractor got big mad for no reason and berated a hardware store employee while he himself was wearing his work uniform. I’ll be paying his boss, a family friend, a visit tomorrow to discuss his employee’s behaviour while still representing his place of work.

My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.

6 months ago I was straining really hard on the bathroom, to the point I wasn’t breathing. I turned pale, my heart rate was through the roof and I had what was suspected from my doctor, my first panic attack which sent my body into a state of shock. For the last 6 months I’ve had random physical symptoms of anxiety which i’ve never had before in my life. I hate standing and walking around especially in really big crowded areas.
My symptoms are:
-Heightened anxiety -Blurry-ish vision nighttime -Migraine in forehead-behind eyes. I don’t have headaches that hurt etc, just a pressure behind my forehead.
I’ve gotten every test under the sun, blood work, echocardiogram, etc. Only other findings were a very low B12 and Vitamin D levels. I also went to urgent care the other day and they said I have some fluid that’s hardened behind my ear drums which are basically pushing against my drums. They said I should do saline nose sprays for 3-4 days. I also got a CT scan of my head and neck, which I will attach the results below. Can this be a CSF leak from straining too hard that day, or can it be my body stuck in heightened anxiety from my suspected first panic attack where I thought I was dying? CT results below.
TECHNIQUE: 1. CT Brain without intravenous contrast: Axial 5.0 mm images from the vertex to the tentorium and axial 2.5 mm images from the tentorium to the skull base without intravenous contrast material.

1. CT Cervical spine without intravenous contrast: Contiguous 1.3 mm axial images were obtained from skull base to the thoracic inlet without intravenous contrast, followed by 2D reconstructions in the sagittal and coronal planes.

IV Contrast: None.
Automated mA/kV exposure control was utilized and patient examination was performed in strict accordance with principles of ALARA.
RADIATION AMOUNT: 1194 mGy-cm.
COMPARISON: None Available.
FINDINGS: CT brain: There is no evidence of an acute intracranial hemorrhage, midline shift, or mass effect. No intra-axial or extra-axial fluid collections are demonstrated. There is preservation of the gray-white junction throughout.
The ventricles are normal in size and position. No brain parenchymal lesions are identified.
The osseous skull base and calvarium are intact. The paranasal sinuses, mastoid air cells, and middle ears are clear. The orbits and globes are unremarkable. There are no significant extracranial soft tissue lesions.
CT cervical spine: No acute fracture, subluxation, or malalignment. The atlantoaxial and atlantooccipital articulations demonstrate normal alignment. The dens is intact. The vertebral heights are well preserved. The intervertebral disc spaces are well preserved. No prevertebral soft tissue swelling. No epidural hematoma or canal compromise.
The visualized lung apices are clear.
IMPRESSION: CT brain: No acute intracranial bleed or territorial stroke.
CT cervical spine: No acute fracture or malalignment.

Can’t be bothered really I’m just ranting to fellow borderlines in search of some help ig. I got with someone new after being with my partner for a really long time I have no friends and no one really just me and whoever I’m with as a pacifier to get me through the days. But I was scared I was too worried and my unhealthy habits came back after years of not doing it, I blamed this on her since she self harms and decided it was her making my mental health worse and that I need to go back to my ex. Who sexually assaulted me, then I went back to her somehow expecting this to go rigjt and for her to stay with me she didn’t. I have no one now. The same song has been on repeat blasting in my ears for hours, I have a headache, I’ve already tried to off myself but I want things to work for me I want to be happy. I have no one

I don't know why I'm posting this except for maybe commiseration/reassurance. I've been a lurker here for several years after being misdiagnosed with anxiety only to finally have a specialist confirm my asthma - which, I admit, presents very weird; it's more cough than wheeze, and it's triggered by pollution, chemicals, and strong smells but not allergies, and I can't even remember the last time I had a stuffy nose, let alone any chest congestion. But my mom and grandpa both have asthma, and theirs is weird just like mine, so I honestly should have known.
At first, I ended up changing my whole lifestyle - no longer wearing perfume at all, buying only fragrance-free cleaning products and cosmetics, paying attention to the air quality forecast and not really going out unless necessary on yellow days - and I was basically able to forget about my asthma for a while. I would occasionally get stuck behind a semi on the highway or be around smokers and have to take my rescue, but mostly it was fine. I had one really bad attack after helping a neighbor clean an extremely dusty house, but it was the only scary attack in 5-6 years.
Until I moved further north 2 years ago and started having to contend with the summer wildfire woes. I basically put myself under house arrest last year after taking the trash out during wildfire haze gave me a weeklong flare-up, but I must be getting too old for this stuff, because I couldn't do it this year. Ended up at my doctor's office in tears because even though I was using my rescue on cooldown for the past week, I've been miserable. My back is sore from breathing too hard, my chest has been tight, I've been coughing my head off, and even though I usually don't wheeze, I started getting a little whistle at the end of every exhale. She gave me montelukast and Advair, which is what my mom takes. I'm hoping it will help, but I'm just feeling so stupid for ignoring these problems last year. I was in denial. I have family with this issue, and I have no excuse.
Forgive my pity party folks, I'm just feeling blue.

I sat in our dark bedroom, the computer screen glaring with a harsh, white light. A banner flashed before my eyes: “Seek wisdom by understanding yourself.”
“Chloe, check this out,” I called over my shoulder to my girlfriend playing The Sims on her laptop.
She glanced up, her brow furrowing in confusion before giving me a bemused look. “What the hell are you looking at?” she asked.
“It’s some cult,” I replied, unable to hide my fascination. “I fell down a rabbit hole and found this local place downtown. It's a derivative of Aleister Crowley and Golden Dawn bullshit.” I pointed to the Google Street View image of a dilapidated storefront in an ethnic shopping center.
She smirked, a hint of amusement in her eyes. “I never pegged you as the religious type.”
“Check this out,” I continued, clicking through the site. “They have some photos.”
We spent some time going through the albums celebrating various solstices. Most were taken in an odd room with black and white checkered floors, adorned with Egyptian pseudo-artifacts, bathed in the glow of red and purple lights that transformed the scene into a surreal dreamscape.
The people certainly had an alternative vibe. Tattoos were plentiful, but other than that they looked like they came from all different walks of life. Many of them looked like they had their fair share of bullying in high school - no shortage of that. But most of them looked relatively normal aside from the occasional piercing.
One photograph in particular caught my eye. A woman, sitting in a bright red room, sat on an altar, holding a staff in her right hand, wearing nothing. A man was kneeled before her, his arms tied behind him, rope anchored to the ceiling. They were sliding a knife down his back, a small trickle of blood dripping to the floor.
“Damn,” Chloe started. “She’s butt-ass naked.”
“You wanna go?” I asked. “They’re having a get together tonight.”
“You know what, fuck it. Why not? It’s not like we’re doing anything.” she replied.
“Good,” I smiled, standing up. “Because I already ordered an Uber.”
She sighed before opening a drawer and pulling out a small pipe. “I’ll go, but i'm not going sober.”
It was a cold, shitty Seattle winter night. We got dropped off in the parking lot and spent a few minutes looking for the storefront. We finally found it next to a dog groomer and Pho restaurant with some pun for the name I can’t seem to remember.
We entered the shop, which consisted of two narrow isles separated by wood shelves barely big enough for me to fit down. We spent some time looking at the various items, my attention diverting to a vial of elk blood. I remember wondering if they were even allowed to sell this without some type of medical certification they definitely did not have while Chloe shuffled through a bowl of mix and match crystals.
“Can I help you?” I heard a woman say from the back as she emerged from a beaded curtain. She was a short, overweight woman wearing what I could only describe as a sports bra and hula skirt.
“Hi, uh,” I stuttered. “I’m George and this is Chloe. We’re here for the… winter solstice celebration?”
“Oh, goodie! Newcomers!” she said with an out of place, overjoyed expression as she clapped her hands. Chloe and I laughed nervously.
“The door is in the back, but you can come through here just this time.” she said with a smile, arm holding the beaded curtain open.
We walked through a dark hallway, somehow more cramped than the shop, into a rather large room. A gaggle of people were huddled in the back, which Chloe and I quietly shuffled into.
A bearded man paraded around the room, white robes and red headdress cascading into a cloak, knuckles adorned with several large rings gripping a spear, held vertically in front of him. Behind him, another bald man, white robes and yellow cloak, followed behind, white sleeves crossed over his chest.
I glanced at Chloe’s bloodshot eyes, THC clearly flowing through her system. I gave her a knowing look, as if to say Having fun yet? She returned a slow smile.
Without warning, the entire crowd clapped their hands together over their heads as a woman in blue robes walked past, waving a censure leaking white smoke. We awkwardly followed to match the group.
The blue curtains on the back wall opened to reveal an older Asian woman sitting perched on the altar I saw in the photos, again, completely naked. And before you ask, no. She wasn’t attractive. It’s never the ones you hope it is. The red robed man kneeled down and softly kissed her knees.
I glanced back at Chloe. Her smile was so big I was afraid she was going to laugh at any moment. I pinched her on the side and whispered into her ear “Do. Not. Fucking. Laugh”. Honestly, I think I just made it worse. Her face turned beet red as she bit her cheeks.
The ritual went on for another half hour or so. They must’ve said “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law” at least a dozen times.
We were getting kind of bored and were ready to leave before the woman in the blue robes wandered in with a caged chicken.
"No fucking way" I thought. Surely enough, the man in the yellow robes held the chicken high in the air, before slitting its throat and draining blood into a large metallic basin. The man winced as the chicken flailed violently, scratching up his arms, before eventually succumbing to blood loss.
One by one, each person there stood between a white and black pillar saying love and intention in Greek before eating a piece of something, taking a sip of blood, and saying “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods.”
Chloe and I hung back, and politely declined when our turn came. Once all was said and done, they busted out some alcohol and started celebrating. We slipped out into the street, bursting out laughing. After we finally collected ourselves, Chloe whipped out her phone and showed me she took dozens of pictures of the ritual.
We laughed our asses off the entire way home. First thing she did was open her laptop and post the pictures on Twitter, tagging the lodge with the caption “me and the boys chilling right now”.
We returned to the usual rhythm of our lives. I went to work, conducting meetings and answering emails, while Chloe went back to her classes. A few days later, Chloe checked her Twitter and saw that she had gained a few thousand likes. The whole ordeal became a running joke between us.
I would eat fruit snacks and sip on my soda, saying, “There is no part of me that is not of the Gods”. A few weeks later, we had mostly forgotten about it, except for the occasional recounting as a funny story to regale our friends.
One night while Chloe and I were spending our evening the usual way with me on the computer and her on her laptop, I felt her furiously tap my shoulder while staring wide eyed at the window. Confused, I took my headphones off and walked over, pulling back the curtain to reveal 6 people standing in black robes and animal masks watching us from the hillside.
“What do we do, should I call the cops?” Chloe whimpered.
“No, they’re just a bunch of larpers. They’re not going to do shit! Just trying to scare us.” I said angrily as I closed the blinds and hopped back on my computer.
Chloe sat there for a few minutes in a tense pose with her arms folded together. She went to double check the door was locked, before we continued our night as normal.
The next day I got a text from Chloe frantically telling me to come home immediately. When I arrived, there was a squad car parked outside our building. I ran up the stairs to see two officers standing by Chloe in the doorway. I nearly shouted asking what was going on. They lead me inside to show me a massive black symbol drawn on our wall, a six-pointed star made from one continuous line.
We finished our police report and they told us they’d get back to us if they find anything. I’ve been robbed often enough to know that means they’re going to forget about this before they’ve even gotten back into their squad car.
Furious, I stormed over to the shop and banged on the window. The hula skirt woman came over and cracked the door open just enough for me to see one of her eyes.
“What the fuck do you think your little posse is doing!?” I screamed at her. “Breaking into my apartment like that!? You all are fucking psychos!”
“I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about”, she said with a sly grin.
“Oh, yeah?” I said pointing a finger in her face. “If anyone tries any shit like that again I’m going to burn your goddamn shop to the ground, do you hear me?”
She looked at the ground, clearly nervous. I have never blown up at a stranger like this but I could tell my threats were working.
After a moment of silence I stormed off again, back towards home.
“You meddle with forces you do not understand!” she called out from the shop.
I picked up a glass bottle from the sidewalk and chucked it, smashing against her shop window, forcing her to close the door and disappear into the shadows. I’m not particularly proud of how I behaved in this moment, but unless you’ve had someone break into your home and draw shit on the walls, hold on to your judgment.
The next few days passed without so much as a peep from them. Chloe and I began to relax, convincing ourselves that the cult had been scared off. Life seemed to be returning to normal, and the unsettling incident became just another story.

Today’s one page challenge is for The City in the Clouds by J.B. Williams. Finally, a requested challenge, rather than the usual cycle of me finding a story and the person being triggered that I did so. At 234 pages and a whopping price tag of $20.99 for a paperback, it’s a wonder why it looks untouched. Flip some burgers for an hour to pay for this… whatever it is. I was told the editor is good, so let’s see how he gummed up the works.
The rules of the one page challenge are simple: I go through the first page of the book(about 300 words or 3 paragraphs) and say where the average reader would stop. These reviews are short, sweet, and to the point (unlike most of these books). The main things we look for are things like tension, a hint at the plot existing, good feng shui, a feeling like the blurb is accurate, a lack of obfuscation, and the story fulfilling its role as a story. As we go along, I’ll explain why readers love or hate certain elements and we’ll see what straws break the camel’s back.
The title, The City in the Clouds, makes me think of fantasy, but it’s meant to be sci-fi. Clouds symbolize knowledge beyond our reach or something like daydreaming, treated as water in air(mystery in knowledge). Saying the title this way makes it seem like the focus is the city itself, which would be cool if it was something like a dystopian or utopian story. Maybe a tech noir or detective story, but… it’s not. This story is actually about a woman, and it’s a comedy, completely conflicting with the genre in two ways.
I didn’t want to say this but Huston… we’re already having problems.
The ebook cover is a drawing of curly haired woman staring at the camera like she’s constipated, while the paperback version is of an anime girl holding a gun and looking like she has diarrhea. Both versions have her in a suit, with a giant gas planet behind her. Both have similar fonts for the title and name, but the ebook version is so blurred and darkened that it reads like a secret message; the physical version being slightly less blurry. If I saw this on a shelf, I wouldn’t recognize this as a book or know what it was called. I find it strange because the back of the book is very clear, given a blue box for clarity, and has a sun with a red sky that would have made more sense than these frumpy women.
I guess the title and name are made illegible because we’re supposed to zoom our eyes straight to the blurb:

Robin Alia Brook is considered a loser. She works at customer service for one of the largest companies in humanity's interstellar empire, gets stood up on dates, and accidentally kills people. Then when her ex-online boyfriend gives her the winning vacation lottery ticket to the famed habitat, The City of Clouds, she reluctantly accepts it.
Upon arrival, she is greeted by the massive, beautiful gas giant Bellona, and all the glamour and prospects of expansion for the famous habitat. And it is the beginning of a celebration, too! For the election of the new habitat captain! But the celebration and vacation are ruined when pirates attack, seeking the captain's riches.
They are ruthless, they are bloodthirsty, and they won't stop until they get what they want. Unfortunately for the pirates, Robin is really good at accidentally killing people, and with her is a rag tag team of a pilot recruit, an egotistical journalist, a veteran photographer, and the captain himself.
It will be a long battle for The City of Clouds, and the outcome is unknown, but one thing is certain... This is the worst vacation ever.

Slight grammar issues here and there, but most wouldn’t notice that “ex-online boyfriend” would mean the boyfriend was online and not anymore. The delivery is a little bouncy, almost appropriate, but doesn’t give much tone from how much info it tries to cram in. Something I noticed is that very little sci-fi is mentioned, with the only thing giving a sci-fi vibe being the idea of traveling to another planet. If this was a vacation to an island, very little would change from how it’s described. Like the title and name on the cover, a lot of what makes this book a book is hidden from us, in plain sight.
At this point, the average reader would probably not give it a shot, unless the idea of pirates and an ironic Die Hard premise is their cup of tea.
No prologue, no maps, no glossary, just a simple chapter 1 to greet us. Ok, I’m liking this already. I know this is a small thing, but the simplicity of just starting a story is a blessing that should be the norm, and isn’t. I haven’t read a single word and this is already the best OPC so far. Yes, it’s that easy.
Don’t ruin the experience with all your fancy try-hard nonsense and the reader will be in hog heaven.
We are told the planet, sector, system, and date. Very effective in establishing the sci-fi element in this single aside, which also lets us know it’s 400 years in the future. The planet is named Andromeda, which is a well known galaxy, so if this is in that galaxy, I assume it’s going for a “New York, New York” type of gag. The editor did a good job, with the first page establishing a scene in a restaurant. What he messed up on was… everything that’s not the scene itself, which makes up 90% of the words.
The protagonist, Robin Alia Brook has her day off described as “shot in the face”, being delivered in present tense and this has it come out awkwardly. I say this because the second sentence is past tense, then it shifts back to present, back to past. This is why people stick with past tense to avoid the headache, and present tense is now used as a hipster novelty to act as if things are more important because they’re happening as they’re written. Most readers just find it as a distraction and it causes something niche to become more niche in the process. The first paragraph ends with us being told that she’s in a restaurant that is 500 feet under the sea, of a planet called Andromeda.
She is to be dining, but she is NOT dining because her date didn’t show. Cue the audience gasping, because this is a travesty. The part that really kills this opening is the sentence “She is currently obtaining nutrients through Poseidon's generous supply of free lemons water and cheesy garlic biscuits.” This was the perfect chance for worldbuilding, to express something futuristic and fresh. Instead, it tied itself to Earth, talked about mundane food like lemon water, and it didn’t use any of these for a punchline.
This is meant to be a comedy, but is absent of comedy. We don’t need a bunch of humor in the first paragraph, but we do expect a comedy to present a tone that can lead to humor occurring. Every scene for a comedy is a setup for gags and punchlines. Much like horror, the scene is built around the mood, which is brought to a peak around half way. The introduction of a comedy book is going to hold a joke in relation to the entire book.
I believe the blurb when it says this Robin character can kill things by accident, because this book dies right after she’s introduced, around the second paragraph. The third paragraph changes the subject to be about other people in the restaurant, acting as a distraction that leads to infodumps of Robin’s outfit and such. I understand that the “joke” is that this woman is stood up on her date and we are to feel her anguish, but the reader shouldn’t be suffering through the opening this soon. Starting here is either far too late or far too soon. If anything, this is something I expect in chapter 2 or something we hear about as she’s on her way to Bellona.
A good way to put it is that this scene is a non-sequitur done in order to give fashion statements, with the important exposition ignored for window dressing.
The average reader needs tension to get sunk into a sci-fi story, because this is a planet we don’t know about with a character we’ve never seen before. What is the point of having this restaurant so deep underwater? There is a city underwater? She has a job, but where does she work? At the Krusty Krab?
Non-sequitur is a distraction that removes us from the scene and the plot to explain things that don’t serve a purpose to either. If I changed the first sentence to only hold what was part of the scene, it would be the characters name and nothing more. To strengthen an opening like this, we would have to set it up for a punchline, reinforce the sardonic tone, and tie the scene with the situation. The first sentence would go like:

Five hundred feet below the sea’s surface, Robin could not stop drinking.

This will give the impression that she’s getting drunk, while attaching her drinking to the sea outside, giving the impression that she’s drowning. But even then, I wouldn’t start here, I would begin with a comedic amount of assurance that she’s going to have her date show up, then the next scene is her waiting with this. That, or I would have her doing the walk of shame, allowing the plot to begin sooner when she gets her golden ticket, which would be like:

The ocean floor outside was slowly swallowed by darkness as the elevator pod took Robin away from Poseidon.

Here, we have a moment for her to think back to the situation, and the word “darkness” gives hint to her current feeling about the restaurant. This is a setup for the punchline that follows, already skipping the failed date and able to move forward to the poster she sees in the elevator. Movies tend to do this type of exposition with the main character telling the situation to another person, who is helpless to escape. That can add more humor and make the main character express their personality quirks. The goal is for less opening to be used up for non-sequitur and to focus it on moving forward in relation to the plot.
For a story like this, the rejection comes from a lack of being straightforward. We can always fix up a sentence and how it sounds, but this doesn’t mean much when the bones are disjointed. Thankfully, for this one, a lot of readers are used to openings like this from online serials, so there is hope that a lot of it will get a pass. It’s that first hump that it has to get over in order to shine. Sadly, for little Robin, that hump was not achieved, so her journey through the city in the cloud might as well not exist.