Piercing your female slave
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2008.11.14 15:12 piercing
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2008.06.21 05:45 Body Modification
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2012.02.23 06:33 jjamessmithh Stretched: The community celebrating stretching body piercings.
The home of stretched piercings on Reddit! If you enjoy the content here, please be sure to visit us on Lemmy as well. https://lemmy.world/c/stretched
2024.05.21 23:24 PWOFalcon As Astra Volume 0, Prolog, Chapter 1, part 2
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."
submitted by PWOFalcon to HFY [link] [comments]
*****
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."
2024.05.21 22:26 tokyoknife 20f looking for female friends!! <3
hi!! i'm anna and i'm 20, and currently in uni studying psychology in the uk!! i'm looking for online female/fem aligned nb friends to send memes to, be silly with, n play games with!!! mainly roblox :333
about me: - i had an emo phase from ages 10-basically now, i do NOT play abt pierce the veil :3 (i also heavily fw swancore, midwest emo, screamo, post hardcore etc etc) - i also rly like chiptune/digital hardcore/DnB/breakcore/cloud rap n just anything experimental with fast bpm - my fav media include: yakuza (the games), jjba (currently on pt4), serial experiments lain, puella magi madoka magica, vocaloid songs and games, any horrospooky stuff (scp and analog horror are guilty pleasures) - i love aesthetic and fashion subcultures, i've always been obsessed w 2000s emo/scene queen but i also love mcbling, dollette, cutecore, and tenshi kawai/anything y2k ! - my fav clothing brands r true religion (somewhat influenced by sematary), ed hardy, vivienne westwood, and anything that makes me look like im straight outta 2007 - i have the autism + adhd combo so i may struggle w/ understanding certain cues or remembering things/losing focus - I have a bf who i very much luv so please respect that boundary! - i am very much a feminist and politically left wing, if you're antifeminist/anti lgbt/racist/zionist we can't be friends :3
if ur a girlie/fem aligned enby and u understand basic boundaries and relate to any of this, feel free to message!!
submitted by tokyoknife to MeetNewPeopleHere [link] [comments]
about me: - i had an emo phase from ages 10-basically now, i do NOT play abt pierce the veil :3 (i also heavily fw swancore, midwest emo, screamo, post hardcore etc etc) - i also rly like chiptune/digital hardcore/DnB/breakcore/cloud rap n just anything experimental with fast bpm - my fav media include: yakuza (the games), jjba (currently on pt4), serial experiments lain, puella magi madoka magica, vocaloid songs and games, any horrospooky stuff (scp and analog horror are guilty pleasures) - i love aesthetic and fashion subcultures, i've always been obsessed w 2000s emo/scene queen but i also love mcbling, dollette, cutecore, and tenshi kawai/anything y2k ! - my fav clothing brands r true religion (somewhat influenced by sematary), ed hardy, vivienne westwood, and anything that makes me look like im straight outta 2007 - i have the autism + adhd combo so i may struggle w/ understanding certain cues or remembering things/losing focus - I have a bf who i very much luv so please respect that boundary! - i am very much a feminist and politically left wing, if you're antifeminist/anti lgbt/racist/zionist we can't be friends :3
if ur a girlie/fem aligned enby and u understand basic boundaries and relate to any of this, feel free to message!!
2024.05.21 22:25 tokyoknife 20f looking for girly friends !!
hi!! i'm anna and i'm 20, and currently in uni studying psychology in the uk!! i'm looking for online female/fem aligned nb friends to send memes to, be silly with, n play games with!!! mainly roblox :333
about me: - i had an emo phase from ages 10-basically now, i do NOT play abt pierce the veil :3 (i also heavily fw swancore, midwest emo, screamo, post hardcore etc etc) - i also rly like chiptune/digital hardcore/DnB/breakcore/cloud rap n just anything experimental with fast bpm - my fav media include: yakuza (the games), jjba (currently on pt4), serial experiments lain, puella magi madoka magica, vocaloid songs and games, any horrospooky stuff (scp and analog horror are guilty pleasures) - i love aesthetic and fashion subcultures, i've always been obsessed w 2000s emo/scene queen but i also love mcbling, dollette, cutecore, and tenshi kawai/anything y2k ! - my fav clothing brands r true religion (somewhat influenced by sematary), ed hardy, vivienne westwood, and anything that makes me look like im straight outta 2007 - i have the autism + adhd combo so i may struggle w/ understanding certain cues or remembering things/losing focus - I have a bf who i very much luv so please respect that boundary! - i am very much a feminist and politically left wing, if you're antifeminist/anti lgbt/racist/zionist we can't be friends :3
if ur a girlie/fem aligned enby and u understand basic boundaries and relate to any of this, feel free to message!!
submitted by tokyoknife to InternetFriends [link] [comments]
about me: - i had an emo phase from ages 10-basically now, i do NOT play abt pierce the veil :3 (i also heavily fw swancore, midwest emo, screamo, post hardcore etc etc) - i also rly like chiptune/digital hardcore/DnB/breakcore/cloud rap n just anything experimental with fast bpm - my fav media include: yakuza (the games), jjba (currently on pt4), serial experiments lain, puella magi madoka magica, vocaloid songs and games, any horrospooky stuff (scp and analog horror are guilty pleasures) - i love aesthetic and fashion subcultures, i've always been obsessed w 2000s emo/scene queen but i also love mcbling, dollette, cutecore, and tenshi kawai/anything y2k ! - my fav clothing brands r true religion (somewhat influenced by sematary), ed hardy, vivienne westwood, and anything that makes me look like im straight outta 2007 - i have the autism + adhd combo so i may struggle w/ understanding certain cues or remembering things/losing focus - I have a bf who i very much luv so please respect that boundary! - i am very much a feminist and politically left wing, if you're antifeminist/anti lgbt/racist/zionist we can't be friends :3
if ur a girlie/fem aligned enby and u understand basic boundaries and relate to any of this, feel free to message!!
2024.05.21 22:00 AutoModerator r/piercing rule, comments about appearance and/or any sexual comments are not allowed
Hey everyone,
Although we do our best to make the rules of this subreddit as clear as we can within the characters limits, we notice that sometimes there’s some confusion or misunderstanding about the rules.
In this post we want to clarify the most common misconceptions about rule number 4, comments about appearance and/or any sexual comments are not allowed
Zero tolerance for comments about appearance that are unrelated to the poster's piercing(s). For example physical features, perceived flaws, beauty and/or any sexual comments. Offending users will be banned.
This subreddit is about piercings and we want all the people posting here to show off their piercings feel secure and safe in that the only topic of discussion will be their piercings.
Misconception number one, the rule only applies to unkind, rude, insulting or lewd comments not related to the featured piercing(s)
Wrong. the rule applies to all comments unrelated to the featured piercings. It doesn’t matter if your comment was meant in kindness or as a compliment. Simply assume that the people posting on a piercing subreddit want to show of and talk about piercings and they are fully capable of finding suitable subreddits if they want to receive comments about their appearance.
Misconception number two the rule is gendered.
Wrong, just like piercings aren’t gendered, neither is this rule. It doesn’t matter what gender OP has, or what the gender is of the one commenting, the rule applies to and for everyone. If you break down the demographics of this subreddit most likely there are more female identifying posters then male identifying posters, but all deserve to feel safe in knowing that their piercings are the only topic of discussion.
Can I ask……?
Yes, you may ask what brand or colour the lipstick is that’s visible in the photo.
Yes, you may ask what hair products someone uses for their curls, how they got their eye liner so perfect, who the tattoo artist is of that amazing tattoo that’s visible in the photo or what watch brand that is or how the cat is called.
Rule of thumb, if it’s visible in the photo and it is something OP applied or added to themselves you may (politely) inquire about it.
The advice we actually dislike to give, because it shouldn’t be needed. If you are posting a photo, consider (temporarily) disabling DM’s. Of course moderators can and certainly will act on comments that break this rule (so don't hesitate to use the report button) but we cannot intervene on chat and DM. Do report those as well though.
Report Chat
Report DM
We regularly see comments noticing how kind and welcoming this community is, and we want to thank you for creating and contributing to that atmosphere. As moderators we try our best to keep it that way but we do rely on your help for that. So if you see a post or comment that doesn’t follow the rules of this subreddit, please hit the report button. We simply cannot read every post or comment so we rely on your input to keep this community awesome.
submitted by AutoModerator to piercing [link] [comments]
Although we do our best to make the rules of this subreddit as clear as we can within the characters limits, we notice that sometimes there’s some confusion or misunderstanding about the rules.
In this post we want to clarify the most common misconceptions about rule number 4, comments about appearance and/or any sexual comments are not allowed
Zero tolerance for comments about appearance that are unrelated to the poster's piercing(s). For example physical features, perceived flaws, beauty and/or any sexual comments. Offending users will be banned.
This subreddit is about piercings and we want all the people posting here to show off their piercings feel secure and safe in that the only topic of discussion will be their piercings.
Misconception number one, the rule only applies to unkind, rude, insulting or lewd comments not related to the featured piercing(s)
Wrong. the rule applies to all comments unrelated to the featured piercings. It doesn’t matter if your comment was meant in kindness or as a compliment. Simply assume that the people posting on a piercing subreddit want to show of and talk about piercings and they are fully capable of finding suitable subreddits if they want to receive comments about their appearance.
Misconception number two the rule is gendered.
Wrong, just like piercings aren’t gendered, neither is this rule. It doesn’t matter what gender OP has, or what the gender is of the one commenting, the rule applies to and for everyone. If you break down the demographics of this subreddit most likely there are more female identifying posters then male identifying posters, but all deserve to feel safe in knowing that their piercings are the only topic of discussion.
Can I ask……?
Yes, you may ask what brand or colour the lipstick is that’s visible in the photo.
Yes, you may ask what hair products someone uses for their curls, how they got their eye liner so perfect, who the tattoo artist is of that amazing tattoo that’s visible in the photo or what watch brand that is or how the cat is called.
Rule of thumb, if it’s visible in the photo and it is something OP applied or added to themselves you may (politely) inquire about it.
The advice we actually dislike to give, because it shouldn’t be needed. If you are posting a photo, consider (temporarily) disabling DM’s. Of course moderators can and certainly will act on comments that break this rule (so don't hesitate to use the report button) but we cannot intervene on chat and DM. Do report those as well though.
Report Chat
Report DM
We regularly see comments noticing how kind and welcoming this community is, and we want to thank you for creating and contributing to that atmosphere. As moderators we try our best to keep it that way but we do rely on your help for that. So if you see a post or comment that doesn’t follow the rules of this subreddit, please hit the report button. We simply cannot read every post or comment so we rely on your input to keep this community awesome.
2024.05.21 21:19 Crazy-Head-3994 25 [F4M] #Online #Europe Looking for genuine connection
Hello there,
Before we dive in, let's talk dealbreakers. These are non-negotiables for me, so if any apply to you, it's best to skip my post. (Please respect my preferences, and refrain from dismissing them as delusional.)
Dealbreakers: - You're not open to relocating in the future. (I've got roots - a home, farm, and a non-remote job. I cannot leave that.) - Hygiene isn't a priority for you. - You're not into anything 'esoteric/occult.' or you think this is bullshit - You're deeply devoted to Christianity, Islam, or Judaism. (I'm Pagan; our paths won't align.) - You thrive in big cities and can't imagine village life. - Exotic travels are your thing. - You're just here for casual dating, not something serious. - You deny the reality of mental illnesses. (I'm on my way to becoming a therapist.) - You're not a fan of girls with piercings and tattoos. - Basic live skills like cooking or cleaning aren't your forte. - You're without a job or driving license. - Future children aren't in your plans. - Monogamy isn't your style.
If you don't check any of those boxes, let's continue:
Bonus Points if: - You're into Slavic/Nordic folklore. - You reside in Europe. - You're curious and love to learn. - You're open to a Female-Led-Relationship (FLR). - Phone calls about your day, thoughts, and dreams are your jam. - Fantasy, games, and all things nerdy excite you.
About me:
I stand at 150cm, currently 75kg (and dropping), a curvy brunette. Though my background is in IT engineering, I've veered off that path. However, if you're in the field, I can still keep up with the tech talk! Glasses, piercings, tattoos - they're all part of me. I believe that love transcends appearances; I'm more interested in brains and skills than looks. In your first message Tell me something about yourself. What is your favourite flower? Feel free to slide into my DMs (untill i will find my Prince Charming)
I'm looking forward to getting to know you.
submitted by Crazy-Head-3994 to r4r [link] [comments]
Before we dive in, let's talk dealbreakers. These are non-negotiables for me, so if any apply to you, it's best to skip my post. (Please respect my preferences, and refrain from dismissing them as delusional.)
Dealbreakers: - You're not open to relocating in the future. (I've got roots - a home, farm, and a non-remote job. I cannot leave that.) - Hygiene isn't a priority for you. - You're not into anything 'esoteric/occult.' or you think this is bullshit - You're deeply devoted to Christianity, Islam, or Judaism. (I'm Pagan; our paths won't align.) - You thrive in big cities and can't imagine village life. - Exotic travels are your thing. - You're just here for casual dating, not something serious. - You deny the reality of mental illnesses. (I'm on my way to becoming a therapist.) - You're not a fan of girls with piercings and tattoos. - Basic live skills like cooking or cleaning aren't your forte. - You're without a job or driving license. - Future children aren't in your plans. - Monogamy isn't your style.
If you don't check any of those boxes, let's continue:
Bonus Points if: - You're into Slavic/Nordic folklore. - You reside in Europe. - You're curious and love to learn. - You're open to a Female-Led-Relationship (FLR). - Phone calls about your day, thoughts, and dreams are your jam. - Fantasy, games, and all things nerdy excite you.
About me:
I stand at 150cm, currently 75kg (and dropping), a curvy brunette. Though my background is in IT engineering, I've veered off that path. However, if you're in the field, I can still keep up with the tech talk! Glasses, piercings, tattoos - they're all part of me. I believe that love transcends appearances; I'm more interested in brains and skills than looks. In your first message Tell me something about yourself. What is your favourite flower? Feel free to slide into my DMs (untill i will find my Prince Charming)
I'm looking forward to getting to know you.
2024.05.21 17:59 CIAHerpes In the caverns under Frost Hollow, I found the madness of the ancient gods
I sit alone in my room on the seventh floor, writing what will surely be my last will and testament. The heroin which allowed me to forget and to sleep for the last couple of years has lost its power to keep the screaming terrors away. The drug destroyed my body and mind, gradually eating away at them like a corrosive acid. Now I have become a slave to it. And yet, without it, I do not sleep for weeks, but instead continuously see the scenes from that terrible night running through my head on repeat as worsening waves of madness crash on the shores of my consciousness.
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.
submitted by CIAHerpes to nosleep [link] [comments]
In the caverns under the town of Frost Hollow, I found the meaning of true madness. Ever since I escaped that den of horrors, it is difficult to tell what is real and what is only the feverish delirium of an unhinged mind.
Even now, they wait behind the door to this cheap, bare rented room. They drag their claws over the wood. I hear them hissing in that strange, ancient tongue, the one I first heard in the tombs of rock that had been undisturbed for countless millennia.
***
I had first heard rumors of an unexplored cavern from my friend, an experienced caver named Sonia who had explored caverns all over the world. I had been looking for some excitement in my life, some break from the constant monotony and boredom of simply working and sleeping. I had gone caving quite a few times over the year leading up to the trip, but I was not nearly as experienced and had never explored a supposedly virgin passageway of cavern before.
“How do you know no one’s gone down there?” I asked, curious. We sat across from each other at a local diner, getting some early breakfast before our planned descent. The sunrise was still another half-hour away, the sky flat and dark. We would be joined by Sonia’s husband, Phil, who would meet us there shortly after sunrise. I repressed an urge to yawn, chugging half of the steaming hot coffee in one long swallow. Sonia leaned close to me, her nearly colorless blue eyes reminding me of chunks of ice floating down a muddy stream.
“Phil’s friend just found it randomly,” she whispered before glancing around conspiratorially, as if she feared someone would care enough to eavesdrop on a conversation about a cave. “Well, it’s in the middle of a farm, and Phil’s friend, Jack Graysole, owns the entire property and surrounding woods. Jack says he noticed the cows kept going over to a certain spot in the field when it got really hot during the summertime. They would all gather around this little indentation in the grass. After seeing it a few times, Jack got curious and went to investigate what the cows were doing.
“He found a small hole in the ground, almost entirely covered by weeds and grass. He said he felt a cool breeze constantly blowing out of the hole, a breeze that smelled like burning matches and charred metal. After bringing out some shovels and digging down a couple feet, Jack realized that the hole wasn’t a hole at all, but the beginning of a steep passageway leading deep into the bowels of the earth.”
***
The owner of the land decided to unofficially call the newly-discovered cavern Graysole Caverns. Out of respect for him, this is also the name we all used. This is the story of how I found myself in the bowels of a strange subterranean tunnel, a tunnel where creatures beyond my comprehension slunk and hunted, skittering monstrosities who would be more at home in a nightmare.
After grabbing a couple coffees to take with us, Sonia drove over to Graysole Farms. Cows stood out in the grassy fields, huddled in tight circles as they repetitively chewed. The thin silhouette of Jack Graysole waited for us next to the herd. He had a face like a raisin, I thought to myself. I watched his thin, shaking body standing in the middle of an overgrown grassy field. Jack stared down blankly at something only he could see. Sonia and I started unloading some equipment from the car while we waited for Phil.
Once we had the backpacks loaded with some simple supplies, such as water, food, headlamps, rope, a couple extra batteries, some buck knives, and radios, we headed over to accompany Jack. We weren’t taking much, as we didn’t really expect to be down there for more than six or seven hours at the most.
Jack Graysole’s withered old face was as slack and expressionless as that of a corpse. He stared down at the ground as if he were in a trance, waving back and forth slowly on his feet like a plant in a light breeze.
“Jack?” Sonia called out as we approached. I could hear the man’s teeth chattering as we got nearer.
“Hey, what are you doing over here this early? You interested in accompanying us down there?” Sonia joked. But Jack might as well have been totally deaf for all the reaction he gave. Sonia glanced over at me with an anxious expression. I wondered if the old man was having a stroke.
I quickly walked over to where he stood, staring down at a black circular hole about three feet across directly in front of his feet. The entrance to Graysole Caverns stared up at us like a sightless pupil. As I drew within a few feet of Jack and looked straight into his blank eyes, I noticed something alarming.
His pupils were quickly dilating and constricting before my eyes. They would shrink to tiny pinpoints, then, a couple seconds later, rapidly expand until they became dark and serious. I could see his thready, rapid heartbeat pulsating in a vein on the side of his temple. Alarmed, I reached forward and put my hand on his shoulder.
Instantly, he came to life, like a man waking up from a nightmare. Shrieking, he looked at me with fully dilated pupils, reminding me of a panicked deer surrounded by wolves. His quavering old man’s voice shook with ineffable existential horror and mortal fear.
He took a step back away from us, seeming to realize where he was and what he was doing. He looked around, confused, then straight at me and Sonia. His eyes focused with anger and fear, as if we were demons here to drag him down to Hell. His eyes flicked back and forth between us constantly. Jack raised a trembling hand and pointed it straight at my heart.
“It’s you,” he said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. His teeth chattered despite the warm spring air. His skin looked deathly pale. “You’re the one who will bring an end to humanity, who will release the ruler of nightmares upon us.” He continued to point accusingly for a long moment at me, his face turning chalk-white. Then his eyes rolled up in his head. Slowly, he stumbled and fell backwards onto the soft grass of the field.
“Jack!” Sonia cried, running over to the old man. Jack’s breaths had started to come in slow, drawn-out gurgles, like a man with a slit throat trying to breathe. Frothy blood bubbled from his lips as they turned blue. Staring up at the endless expanse of cloudless sky, he exhaled one last shuddering breath and died.
***
Phil showed up only a couple minutes later. He found me and Sonia in a state of utter panic, both of us bent double over the still body of Jack. Sonia was on the phone with 911, and I was trying to give Jack chest compressions. The way his fingernails and lips shone with that cyanotic blue cast made me feel sick and weak. I knew it was futile, that I was simply playing with a corpse at this point, but I didn’t know what else to do. I felt if I didn’t do something, I might explode.
I heard the faint wailing of sirens approaching as Sonia’s panicked voice continued babbling to the 911 operator. Phil stood by her side, his tall, dark features searching and lost.
“Oh God, I think he’s dead!” Sonia cried over and over to the operator, as if she thought the operator could do anything about it. I didn’t hear what the operator said in response. As the ambulance pulled in, I gave up on chest compressions. I stood up and took a step back, looking sadly down on the kindly old man’s dead body.
The paramedics ran over. Phil, Sonia and I stood back while they worked on the corpse, trying to shock the heart back into life. But Jack’s open eyes stayed glazed as they stared sightlessly up into eternity.
***
The paramedics left. A couple police officers stayed behind to ask us a few routine questions. Eventually, after an hour or so, they left, too.
“What a fucked-up day,” Phil said, shaking his head grimly. “Do you guys still want to do this? Maybe it’s an omen from God telling us to go home.” Sonia and I exchanged a glance, then we both nodded at the same time.
“Definitely,” she said. “It’s sad what happened to Jack, but realistically, we don’t know what’s going to happen to this property now that he’s passed away. It might get sold or taken by the bank for all we know. This could be our one and only chance to explore this cave.”
“I don’t believe in omens. I’m still down,” I said, feeling slightly sick from the experience. I still remembered how Jack’s body had cracked under the weight of my chest compressions, how his ribs had snapped like bones shattering in greedy hands. “We’ll do it in memory of Jack. I plan to put this up on YouTube.” I pulled my GoPro out of my bag, turning it on. Phil groaned at that.
“Do we have any idea how far down this cave goes?” Phil asked. I felt a sense of relief now that the topic had changed from the death of the old man.
“I sent a little camera down on a rope, but it only went about a hundred feet,” Sonia responded. “It’s pretty steep at first, then it levels out. I couldn’t really see much after it leveled out, but it looks like it should be easy to climb down. There’s plenty of handholds, lots of jutting rocks.”
Phil put on his headlamp and small pack. As he crawled down into the hole, his tanned face looked up at us and gave us one last devilish grin. Once he had gone down a few dozen feet, Sonia started descending. She looked excited and happy. I noticed how she couldn’t stop smiling as she disappeared from view.
I watched their lights grow smaller and dimmer in the circular tunnel. I marveled at how perfectly circular the entrance was. It almost didn’t even look natural.
Taking a deep breath in, I followed my friends down into the dark.
***
“This isn’t too bad,” I said as I climbed down. The jutting rocks gave plenty of handholds and footholds for us. It wasn’t so tight that it felt like a coffin, either.
“It only gets easier from here!” Sonia called up.
“How do you know?” I asked. “You said you’ve never been here before.” She laughed.
“I know. Probably just wishful thinking,” she said. Far below us, Jack’s voice drifted up, faint and weak. He had already reached the bottom.
“The tunnel really opens up down here, guys,” he called. “It’s somewhat… bizarre, though.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sonia asked. I looked down, seeing Sonia and I would reach the bottom in seconds. “Forget it, I’ll let it be a surprise.” I heard her drop down. Slowly and carefully, I lowered myself down the last few feet. There was a short fall onto a smooth granite floor. I looked up, seeing what Phil and Sonia were so mesmerized by.
“Oh, wow,” I said, speechless. I blinked rapidly, wondering if the image would clear like a mirage. The tunnel was cut into a perfectly triangular shape, each side about seven feet long. The ceiling met in a point above our heads.
All along the smooth walls of gray rock, I saw thousands of black orbs peeking out. They looked similar to obsidian, but they were perfectly smooth and circular, each about the size of an orange. They were formed into interlocking diagonal patterns and followed the tunnel straight down as far as the eye could see.
“What is this place?” Sonia asked, taking a tentative step forward. I looked up, seeing the distant pinpoint of sunlight far above our heads. Our voices continued to echo off down the massive tunnels, disappearing in eerie waves into the thick curtain of shadows.
“Are you recording all this?” Phil asked me. I laughed, giddy.
“Of course! This is internet gold right here,” I said. “No one’s going to believe that this isn’t man-made, however. I can’t even believe it. Do you think Jack was playing a joke on us or something?”
“Jack had the sense of humor of a wet paper towel,” Phil whispered, shaking his head. “No, he wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Well, let’s go check it out,” Sonia said, taking a step forward. Her headlamp bobbed up and down rapidly, throwing dancing shadows through the triangular tunnel. It continued straight ahead, without the slightest deviation or curve, disappearing off into a dark point in the distance.
***
We walked as fast as we could, excited to see where, if anywhere, the strange tunnel led. Phil, always the conspiracy theorist, babbled excitedly.
“This has to be aliens, man,” he said, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I bet that scientists will find out this shit is millions of years old when we get back up and tell everyone. Maybe aliens came to earth in ancient times and made a bunch of stuff underground.” Gradually, as we walked, I noticed the tunnel opening up. The pointed triangular ceiling rose up higher above our heads and the walls moved outwards, as we were walking up a triangular funnel. At first, it was so subtle that I didn’t believe it when Sonia pointed it out.
“No, look,” she said, raising her hand above her head. “When we first started down this weird tunnel, my fingers were only maybe a foot away from the top. Now it’s a couple feet.” I was about to respond when our headlamps illuminated something standing in the middle of the tunnel.
“What the fuck is that?” I whispered, stopping cold in my tracks. Phil and Sonia looked up at the abomination at the same time. Its back was to us. It stood nearly as tall as the tunnel, which was now about twenty feet high.
The bottom half looked black and spidery with dozens of long, jointed legs. A bloody, white spine rose out of the mass of legs. Inhumanly long, skeletal arms stretched out in front of it. Its face was pointed away from us, but the back of its head resembled an enormous pointed skull with deep fissures like the cracks of an earthquake running through the bone. The abomination stayed as still as a statue, and for a long moment, I wondered if we were looking at some macabre work of art.
Then, suddenly, one of its insectile legs twitched. A moment later, the other legs started jerking and twisting. There was a sound like bones shattering as it rose up to its full height, turning around to face us.
Its face was like something from a nightmare, melting and reforming constantly like dripping candle wax. I would see a black eye appear on its forehead, then a grinning mouth on its chin, then the features would get sucked back into the folds of melting flesh. After a few moments, two enormous eyes appeared on its face, dark and cold like craters on the surface of the Moon. The mouths and noses disappeared back into the dripping skin, and only the two lidless eyes remained, emanating a cold, reptilian consciousness beyond the ability of my mind to comprehend. I felt terror radiating from its body like freezing waves.
“Free me,” it cried in a gurgling voice that seethed with insanity. It had a shrieking, metallic ringing behind every word that gave it an alien quality. “Free me, and I will give you the waters of eternal life. Within me, I contain the seeds of immortality. Within the nightmares, we live forever, always together, never alone.”
“Who are you?” I asked, terrified. The black reptilian skin of the enormous beast glistened as it knelt down, its massive face drawing near to mine. A sideways mouth burst out of the liquified flesh, showing hundreds of fangs growing like tumors from its white, bloodless gums. The fangs varied in size from only a couple inches to long, sword-like projections that stabbed into the creature’s flesh, causing white blood glittering with rainbows to fall like raindrops all around me.
“I have many names,” it hissed, its thousand voices rising and falling in crashing waves of sound. “I was present at the beginning, when this planet was no more than dead cliffs and endless freezing oceans. Those holy ones who search for us, the ancient ones, call me Niralahoth.”
“How do we free you?” Phil asked, looking terrified. He held Sonia’s hand tightly.
“By letting me into your mind and body,” Niralahoth cried, shaking the cavern. “I was thrown down here, cursed and forgotten. I cannot leave this place of shadows within this body. But in the body of another, my consciousness can be free, and the seeds of new life can spread beyond this prison.”
“There’s no way anyone’s going to do that,” I said, my eyes widening as Niralahoth’s reptilian skull turned towards me in fury. “I mean, you’re asking one of us to give up our individuality, our lives, right?”
“I am asking you to become one with me and gain power undreamt of by mortals,” it cried. “I have within me the fountain of life, the waters that send death away screaming.” I glanced anxiously at Phil and Sonia, wondering if we would have to run.
“The answer is no,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, we can’t do that,” Phil said, backing me up. “But, anyways, I think our trip has ended. It’s time to turn around…”
“You will never return,” Niralahoth cried, skittering away from us. “If you will not accept salvation, then you must accept death.” Within seconds, it slunk away from us, backpedaling on its many skittering legs into the shadows.
***
All around us, a rumbling started.
There was a pounding that crashed through the rock tunnel, as if an insane blacksmith were hammering on a massive anvil. The ringing of crashing rock started off slowly, with a few stones smashing down around us with heavy blasts of sound. Within seconds, the cacophony sped up, rising into a constant stream of destruction. The black orbs were spinning in place all up and down the tunnel, their glossy obsidian surfaces flashing with sparks of blue light.
“It’s collapsing!” Phil cried, running back in the direction we came, holding Sonia’s hand as she tried to keep up with him. I could only stare for a long moment, not sure what to do. It seemed that the direction Phil was heading stood closer to total collapse.
“Wait!” I cried, but my voice was drowned out in the destruction all around us. I felt a rock smash into my shoulder, sending me down to my feet. I heard Phil give a scream of pain, then another stone came down and smashed into my forehead. I remember seeing everything spinning around me as the world went black.
***
I awoke to find my headlamp still shining straight up in the dusty tunnel. Large chunks of the tunnel had slid out of place and crashed to the stone floor. The granite chunks that had fallen looked unnaturally smooth, most of them in the shapes of cylinders or cubes and varying in size from that of an egg to that of a small car.
My head throbbed. It felt as if a tight belt of fire were wrapped around my temples. Groaning, I put my fingers up to my forehead. They came away slick with blood.
Slowly, I started pushing myself up on my feet. I was relieved that nothing seemed broken. I had a deep gash running from the center of my scalp down to my left temple and some shallower cuts on my shoulders and back, but I knew none of that was life-threatening.
“Sonia?” I whispered, my voice coming out weak and strained. I reached into my pack and found a bottle of water. I chugged it quickly in one long swallow.
“Phil?” I cried again, this time stronger. I heard a soft weeping nearby. Staggering, I followed the sound.
Sonia was bloody and covered in cuts and scrapes, sitting next to Phil’s prone form. I saw Phil’s right arm pinned under a massive slab of granite. His arm disappeared from the elbow down in a spreading puddle of thick, dark blood.
“Oh God, Max, I think he’s hurt really bad,” she wept. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly in his head, his face pale and bloodless. I looked down the way we had come, seeing the entire tunnel blocked by large slabs of stone, many with strange, black orbs peeking out like the lenses of cameras.
***
I don’t know how much time passed. My phone died after a day, and then we were counting the endless darkness in breaths and tears.
Phil swam in and out of consciousness as his arm putrefied and blackened around the crush site. After a couple days, Sonia and I agreed that something had to be done. We told Phil we would need to amputate his arm. He was half-delirious, but he came back long enough to understand us and nod weakly.
We made a fire with Phil’s pack, trying to find fuel to throw in it to get it roaring. As it grew, I saw one of the black orbs near the flames abruptly ignite, as if it had been covered in gasoline. Blue, almost colorless flames rose from its surface. We started throwing the small black orbs on the fire until it rose high in the air. I sanitized the buck knife with the flames and pulled a rope tourniquet tight around Phil’s arm. He was conscious but seemingly insane, talking to himself more than anyone else.
“How are we going to get the car started without a key?” he gurgled to someone only he could see. “We need to look around. It has to be here somewhere.”
“Phil, can you hear me, bud? We need to fix your arm. We need to get you out of this mess. OK?” I said as comfortingly as I could. Phil’s eyes rolled wildly, but they didn’t meet my own. I sighed and looked over at Sonia.
“Let’s do it,” I said, giving a grim nod.
I pulled the buck knife out, slicing quickly down through the flesh next to the tourniquet. His veins throbbed like fat worms as the blackened, necrotic skin split easily under the blade, releasing a rancid-smelling gas that hissed out of the wound.
I couldn’t believe how hard it was to slice all the way through the arm. It felt like I was stuck in that hellish task forever. Phil’s eyes rolled in his head as his skin turned the color of clotted milk.
“God, Jesus, make it stop,” Phil whispered over and over, exhaling ragged, pain-filled breaths. The blood spurted from the blackened, dying tissue all over the dust-covered cavern floor, covering my hands in its warm, slick embrace.
After what was probably only three or four minutes, but felt like hours, I had sliced all the way down to the bone. The infected tissue of his arm spurted great gouts of orange pus mixed with rivulets of blood. The hard part was over.
Standing up, I took my steel-toe sneaker and stomped down on his arm as hard as I could. Phil cried out in a powerful voice, as if all the agony and suffering in the world was contained in that one shriek. The bone snapped under my weight with a sound like a tree branch cracking. A moment later, Phil rolled away from the rock that had pinned me in place for so long. Something alien and spongy was shoved into my face, a mass of destroyed red tissue pulsating in time with a runaway heartbeat. At first, shell-shocked and revolted, my mind couldn’t comprehend that I was looking at the stump of Phil’s mutilated arm. I hardened my heart and forced the giddiness and madness to the back of my mind. The time had come to cauterize the wound.
“Sonia, give it to me,” I said with a tremor in my voice. I reached out a hand towards her, a hand stained with Phil’s blood. It looked as if I were wearing a wet, crimson glove. Sonia only stared blankly at me for a long moment, however. A surge of anger ran up my chest.
“Sonia, toughen the fuck up! He’s going to die if you just sit there!” I swore at her, hearing my deep, angry voice bounce around the caverns. Sonia pulled back, as if she were struck. Inwardly, I cursed having a woman as my only able-bodied companion in this situation. She was a competent enough caver, but what would happen if violence and blood came over us? What would happen if, or more realistically when, we needed to fight?
Grimly, Sonia leaned forward and yanked the burning black orb out of the roaring fire, handing it to me on the end of a buck knife that had just barely pierced its hard, strange exterior. The handle of the knife felt coarse and splintery under my filthy skin. I put it to the spongy stump of Phil’s arm. The stump twitched violently. Phil tried to pull away as black smoke rose from the burning flesh.
There was a smell like bacon sizzling. The searing meat of Phil’s arm blackened and crisped under the heat of the orb, which had become no more than a cylinder of glowing blue embers by this point. I felt simultaneously sick and giddy. I didn’t know if I wanted to laugh or vomit. I felt like I was on the verge of some kind of madness, that the stress and insanity of the experience had started to shatter my mind.
His eyes rolled back in his head and he appeared to go into a seizure for a few seconds. With a long exhalation of breath, he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness. It’s hard to admit it, even this close to the end, but a small, sick piece of me was jealous of Phil. Most likely, he would be dead soon, maybe within hours, while Sonia and I would slowly starve and dehydrate like animals over a period of weeks. I looked at her lithe body and soft skin, seeing the feminine curves of her hips and chest. She was a beautiful woman. I knew Phil to be a lucky man. At least, before this trip, he was.
I watched her body, wondering if I had what it took to eat her or Phil if I had to. Did I have an iron heart that would allow me to slice into my friends and consume their raw, cold flesh? Perhaps, by that point, it would be hunger and madness driving me forward, and I wouldn’t even hesitate. I shuddered at the very thought.
***
I fell asleep that night, having strange dreams of massive gods with melting faces sitting in judgment in a circle around me. We had very little food or water left. No one knew we were down here. Rescue was not coming.
When I awoke, I found myself alone. Phil had died from his injuries while I slept, the black streaks of septic shock spreading up his arm towards his heart. His eyes stared sightlessly up at the rock ceiling.
“Sonia?” I called out, my heart racing as I sat up. “Where are you?” My headlamp was growing dim. I looked in my pack, realizing I was on the last of my batteries. I saw a silhouette walking out of the darkness, the thin, pale form of Sonia. She was trembling badly.
“I saw them,” she said. “Niralahoth and its priests. The priests aren’t human. They look reptilian with sideways mouths and too many eyes.” She shuddered.
“Why would you do that?” I asked. Her eyes grew distant.
“You know we’re not getting out of here alive,” she said. “Not on our own. I wanted to see what it offered. It says that if we take a piece of its nightmare into us, we will gain the power to leave this place, that it simply wants to see the surface and spread its nightmares there.” I shook my head.
“Insanity,” I muttered. “We’d be better off dead.” Sonia nodded.
“My thoughts exactly,” she responded grimly. I didn’t realize what she meant until the next day, when I woke up and found her hanging next to Phil’s body, her tongue swollen and blue as it poked out of her cyanotic lips. And then I was truly alone.
***
Soon after Sonia committed suicide, the last of the batteries for the headlamp died. I had run out of food and had only a small sip of water left. I don’t know how much time passed in the darkness, starving and raving, following the tunnel by running my hands over the walls. I heard many things skittering in the darkness, and a few times, I heard the demonic voice of Niralahoth as it split and distorted.
“You are on death’s door,” it hissed. “Will you not drink from the fountain of life?” I couldn’t tell where the voice came from in the maddening blackness. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. I had lost nearly all of my sanity in that pit of shadows by this point. I tried laughing constantly to keep my spirits up, and when that failed, I simply cried.
“I’ll do it,” I wailed. “I’ll do it. Just let me see the sky again. Get me out of here, Niralahoth.” Everything went deathly silent all around me, then a laugh rang out like the grinding of glass.
In front of me, I saw a tornado of fire descending from the ceiling, surrounding the massive, spidery form of Niralahoth. It rose its skeletal arms upwards, as if it were Zeus calling down lightning. In the sudden brightness, I saw the fiery form of snakes slithering and centipedes skittering forwards in that tornado, each massive creature sculpted from flames in the spinning cyclone of energy. Niralahoth reached into the tornado of fire with its sharp points of fingers and plucked something small from it. The fire instantly dissipated. In its hand, I saw a tiny, swirling orb that looked like it contained a firestorm within it.
“The nightmare seed,” Niralahoth gurgled as it skittered forward towards me. I could only stare, open-mouthed and starving. I hadn’t slept for days, it felt like, and everything seemed slow and unreal.
In a blur, its skeletal arm shot out and forced the orb into my mouth. Despite the fire raging within it, it felt freezing cold. As it touched my tongue, it gave off a sensation like frostbite all throughout my mouth. I screamed and tried spitting it out, but it seemed to have a mind of its own. It started liquifying, dripping down my throat.
I felt something cancerous and sick spreading throughout my body, radiating out from my heart and stomach to every inch of it. I tried to scream, but it caught behind my teeth. I fell to my knees, clawing at my face as that insane, alien laugh continued resounding all down the tunnel. I fell unconscious and woke up under a beautiful sky in the fields of Graysole Farms.
***
Soon after, I realized that my life would never be the same. Everywhere I went, I could hear the wailing voice of Niralahoth. Behind the trees, I always saw skittering shadows, creatures with long, spidery legs that stalked me every day and night. I slept with every light in the house turned on, yet when I woke up, they would all be shut off, and I would find myself in darkness, next to something in the bed with far too many legs and a face that dripped like burning wax.
I sold everything I owned and tried to move far away, to give as much distance between myself and those cursed caverns as I could, but the nightmares followed me like a shadow. I realize what a fool I was in those ephemeral moments of madness. Sonia was much wiser than myself; I should have killed myself or died rather than allowing that thing inside of me.
Even now, I can feel it creeping through my heart, spreading through my blood. I feel it trying to crawl its way out of my throat, the thin, black legs peeking out at the back of my esophagus.
I only hope that, when I finally jump and feel my bones shatter against the concrete far below, I will kill whatever is inside of me. For I fear the consequences for the world if it were to escape.
2024.05.21 17:30 Harris-Y The Book of Harris-y
_______________________________________________
The Book of Harris-y
(Religion as it should be)
by Zachary Harris
(cc) (NC) (ND) by Zachary Harris
May be copied, distributed, or displayed, verbatim only. non-commercial, not derivative works nor remixes.
First edition May 2024
Chapter 1 - What's in a name
Chapter 2 - A bunch of rules
Chapter 3 - Secrete origins
Chapter 4 - The end
Chapter 5 - Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
Chapter 6 - The 2000 year war
Chapter 7 - Humans and gods
Chapter 8 - Parables
Chapter 9 - Feedback
Chapter
CHAPTER 1
What's in a name
Some religions are named after it's main prophet. Christianity is named after christ. Buddhism is named after Budda.
I, Zach Harris, dub this religion HARRISy.
Where is it written that a religion can't have a sense of humor?
HARRISy is not a spoof or sarcasm.
But any religion without a sense of humor, absolutely NEEDS to be ridiculed.
I was raised in christianity. So most of my criticism will be aimed at the Abrahamic religions.
I intend to build harrisy on logic and reason. Not the superstition, lies, and, threats that the Abrahamic religions are built on.
As an alternative for conscientious objectors caught in the religious wars (see chapter 6).
Deities are not really necessary for inspiration or religion. An all-powerful creator wouldn't need the help or adulation of puny mortals.
Only cults and human puppet masters need that. So we leave deities to their own devises. They ought to be up to it.
Harrisy is a religion about/for humans, as religions should be.
My leadership skills suck. So I will avoid leading, to avoid becoming a cult.
Chapter 2
A bunch of rules
Everybody hates rules. But let's establish what Harrisy stands for.
10 rules is a nice round number. But when the first four are about loyalty to the cult, You have to question who the rules are meant to benefit.
The christian 'commandments' only benefit the christian cult. The commandments don't even benefit their god.
A true all-powerful, immortal, creator god, would not need human worship or loyalty. The same as humans don't need the worship of ants.
We don't make rules for ants to follow. Just stay out of our way. The Abrahamic god treats us like ants. Either ignores or steps on us. It was his cults that made the 'commandments', not their god.
(more about that in chapter 7)
Harrisy has rules to live by, to benefit HUMANS:
A) Cause no harm.
B) Treat others the way you want to be treated.
Christianity calls this 'The Golden Rule' as if they invented it. But this was part of every culture and religion that humans ever created. (except Is-lame)
C) Do not kill. Do not kill humans.
Self preservation may override this, but killing is still a bad idea.
When killing animals for food, respect their sacrifice. Killing for sport is a bad idea.
D) People are not property.
Do not try to own others, in any sense.
You belong to yourself, do not give yourself away.
E) Do not steal.
You would not want to loose your stuff. (see B) Stealing harms others.
F) Do not lie. Avoid those who lie.
You would want to know the truth. To make better decisions. (see B)
G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
This applies to more than just sex. Do not force your religion on others. Do not force harrisy on others.
H) Do not shit wherever you please.
You don't want to slog through other people's shit.
(it's a metaphor.) Leave the world better than you found it.
I) Guard your privacy. Respect the privacy of others.
Beware of others who might use info against you. Or might unduly profit off you.
We have no rules about loyalty. We understand loyalties change. Just be honest (rule E)
We have no rule specifically about Adultery. Adultery might be considered loyalty, which changes.
Or adultery might be considered stealing, stealing affection. (rule D)
Chapter 3
Secrete origins
No one knows how/why it all began. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
The answer might as well be 42.
Most religions make it a crime to ask questions about their creation myths. This promotes ignorance. Helps the cult, not the people.
We understand the 'scientific method'. Scientists ask questions and are willing to test and adapt to new info.
So, for now, we trust scientific conclusions about the beginnings.
The current best theories from science:
The universe started from what they humorously call 'The Big Bang', about 13.8 Billion years ago.
Many are curious about what came before that. But we find that to be irrelevant to our everyday life.
Some religions say their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it. But we owe them nothing.
The earth was formed about 4.5 Billion years ago.
Humans evolved from other critters over many, many, many Generations (not years).
Some religions claim their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it.
We do not owe Harrisy or any religion for our existence.
Chapter 4
The end
How does it all end?
No one knows. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
Christinity predicts a bad acid trip. (See Revaluations) Any day now. So buy your ticket to heaven early.
It's an obvious con, You sacrifice this life you already have, for the promise of another life they can't prove.
Science predicts 'Entropy'. Every atom in the universe will drift away from every other till they can't react any more.
But humans will be dead or evolved into something we can't recognize, by then. Too distant, time-wise, to worry about.
Your personal end? What happens when you die?
Most probably nothing.
Seems like every religion has a different 'afterlife'. They can't all be right. (but they can all be wrong)
You can't pick the one you want. If an 'afterlife' exists it is what it is. WE can't control it. No cult can control it.
The cults are telling you what you want to hear. So you give your CURRENT LIFE to their cult. The life that is certain, in exchange for an empty promise.
No guarantees, No refunds, You won't get your old life back if they are wrong (or lying).
Pascal's gamble is a sucker bet. It never pays out.
Harrisy aims to make This Current Life better, worth living for it's own sake. We give priority to This Current Life over any theoretical 'afterlife'.
Chapter 5
Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
What's the point of Sexual Taboos?
Why would an IMORTAL (non-sexual, non-reproducing) being give a damn?
For example in the christian cult:
*Masturbation is sin,
*Spilling your seed outside the womb is sin,
*Marrying outside the church is sin,
*Divorce is sin,
*Birth Control is sin,
*Abortion is sin,
*Marriages without offspring are invalid.
*Brand (circumcise) your males, so your females know who they are allowed to mate with,
And in Is-lame, Women are just sexual slaves.
Taken as a whole,
The only purpose served by sexual taboos, is to help the CULT out-populate rival cults.
A REAL "creator god" wouldn't give a damn. Or Wouldn't need our cooperation. it would just create more of us, as needed.
A REAL creator wouldn't threaten us, it would just change us.
Sexual Taboos are serving a cult, not a god.
Harrisy has only one sexual taboo:
Rule G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
Chapter 6
The 2000 year war
The Abrahamic religions have been at war with each other for about 2000 years. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.
But like some other religions, at all times attempting to be 'the one true religion'. And by their competition, doing more harm than good.
And the Abrahamic religions haven't even shown that the 'good' stuff needs their religion to get done.
They preach that it is somehow noble or their duty to spread their faith. ("Onward Christian Soldiers")
There are dangers associated with proselytism and/or evangelicalism:
(Please note - I had help with the following)
Focus on Conversion over Service:
Proselytism/evangelicalism prioritizes conversion goals over humanitarian or service-oriented activities.
This undermines the credibility and effectiveness of religious organizations engaged in charitable work,
as it is perceived as conditional or insincere.
Dogmatism and Exclusivity:
Evangelicalism/proselytism promotes a rigid, dogmatic interpretation of religious beliefs that excludes other perspectives.
This exclusivity leads to intolerance of differing viewpoints and hinders constructive dialogue and cooperation with people of other faiths or worldviews.
Coercion and Manipulation:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves coercion, manipulation, or exploitation of vulnerable individuals,
such as offering material incentives or exploiting power differentials to induce conversion.
This raises ethical concerns about respect for autonomy and informed consent.
Political Activism:
Evangelicalism/proselytism has been associated with political movements that prioritize specific social or moral issues, leading to controversy and polarization.
this politicization blurs the lines between religion and politics, compromising the integrity of both.
Interfaith Tensions:
Proselytism/evangelicalism contributes to interfaith tensions and conflicts, especially when it is aggressive or disrespectful to members of other religious communities.
It will undermine efforts to foster mutual respect, understanding, and cooperation among different faith traditions.
Fragmentation of Communities:
Proselytism/evangelicalism leads to the fragmentation or division of communities, particularly in contexts where multiple religious groups coexist.
This creates social tensions and weaken social cohesion, especially when proselytism is conducted in a confrontational or divisive manner.
Proselytization and Missionary Work:
We are concerned about aggressive or coercive methods used in proselytization/evangelicalism efforts,
especially when targeting vulnerable populations or in multicultural contexts.
This leads to cultural imperialism or disrespect for the autonomy of individuals and communities.
Cultural Insensitivity:
Proselytism/evangelicalism disregards or disrespects the cultural and religious traditions of the target community.
This leads to cultural imperialism or colonialism, especially when proselytism/evangelicalism is conducted in contexts where there is a history of exploitation or marginalization.
Misrepresentation or Simplification of Beliefs:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves oversimplification or misrepresentation of religious beliefs and practices in order to make them more appealing to potential converts.
This leads to misunderstandings or misconceptions about the beliefs and traditions of the proselytizing religion.
For these reasons we conscientious objectors to the religious war, need an uncompetitive religion like Harris-y.
But don't push it.
Chapter 7
Humans and gods
Why do human religions have gods that are all too human?
A creator of everything that needs humans to wright/publish a holy book?
An all powerful god who needs humans to promote him?
An all powerful god with a vindictive human sized ego?
An immortal who is obsessed with human reproduction?
An all powerful god who needs humans more than we need him?
Any actual god wouldn't need human religion.
Harrisy serves humans, not gods.
Chapter 8
Parables
Corn In A Cow Patty.
Finding truth in the Abrahamic holy books,
is like finding corn in a cow patty.
Sure there are some good kernels in there,
but is it really worth digging through the shit to find them?
You can find uncontaminated kernels of truth anywhere.
Chapter 9
Feedback
Feedback should be sent to: zachharris@mail2hell.com
Don't expect a timely reply.
submitted by Harris-Y to DiscordianHumanism [link] [comments]
The Book of Harris-y
(Religion as it should be)
by Zachary Harris
May be copied, distributed, or displayed, verbatim only. non-commercial, not derivative works nor remixes.
First edition May 2024
Chapter 2 - A bunch of rules
Chapter 3 - Secrete origins
Chapter 4 - The end
Chapter 5 - Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
Chapter 6 - The 2000 year war
Chapter 7 - Humans and gods
Chapter 8 - Parables
Chapter 9 - Feedback
Chapter
What's in a name
Some religions are named after it's main prophet. Christianity is named after christ. Buddhism is named after Budda.
I, Zach Harris, dub this religion HARRISy.
Where is it written that a religion can't have a sense of humor?
HARRISy is not a spoof or sarcasm.
But any religion without a sense of humor, absolutely NEEDS to be ridiculed.
I was raised in christianity. So most of my criticism will be aimed at the Abrahamic religions.
I intend to build harrisy on logic and reason. Not the superstition, lies, and, threats that the Abrahamic religions are built on.
As an alternative for conscientious objectors caught in the religious wars (see chapter 6).
Deities are not really necessary for inspiration or religion. An all-powerful creator wouldn't need the help or adulation of puny mortals.
Only cults and human puppet masters need that. So we leave deities to their own devises. They ought to be up to it.
Harrisy is a religion about/for humans, as religions should be.
My leadership skills suck. So I will avoid leading, to avoid becoming a cult.
A bunch of rules
Everybody hates rules. But let's establish what Harrisy stands for.
10 rules is a nice round number. But when the first four are about loyalty to the cult, You have to question who the rules are meant to benefit.
The christian 'commandments' only benefit the christian cult. The commandments don't even benefit their god.
A true all-powerful, immortal, creator god, would not need human worship or loyalty. The same as humans don't need the worship of ants.
We don't make rules for ants to follow. Just stay out of our way. The Abrahamic god treats us like ants. Either ignores or steps on us. It was his cults that made the 'commandments', not their god.
(more about that in chapter 7)
Harrisy has rules to live by, to benefit HUMANS:
A) Cause no harm.
B) Treat others the way you want to be treated.
Christianity calls this 'The Golden Rule' as if they invented it. But this was part of every culture and religion that humans ever created. (except Is-lame)
C) Do not kill. Do not kill humans.
Self preservation may override this, but killing is still a bad idea.
When killing animals for food, respect their sacrifice. Killing for sport is a bad idea.
D) People are not property.
Do not try to own others, in any sense.
You belong to yourself, do not give yourself away.
E) Do not steal.
You would not want to loose your stuff. (see B) Stealing harms others.
F) Do not lie. Avoid those who lie.
You would want to know the truth. To make better decisions. (see B)
G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
This applies to more than just sex. Do not force your religion on others. Do not force harrisy on others.
H) Do not shit wherever you please.
You don't want to slog through other people's shit.
(it's a metaphor.) Leave the world better than you found it.
I) Guard your privacy. Respect the privacy of others.
Beware of others who might use info against you. Or might unduly profit off you.
We have no rules about loyalty. We understand loyalties change. Just be honest (rule E)
We have no rule specifically about Adultery. Adultery might be considered loyalty, which changes.
Or adultery might be considered stealing, stealing affection. (rule D)
Secrete origins
No one knows how/why it all began. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
The answer might as well be 42.
Most religions make it a crime to ask questions about their creation myths. This promotes ignorance. Helps the cult, not the people.
We understand the 'scientific method'. Scientists ask questions and are willing to test and adapt to new info.
So, for now, we trust scientific conclusions about the beginnings.
The current best theories from science:
The universe started from what they humorously call 'The Big Bang', about 13.8 Billion years ago.
Many are curious about what came before that. But we find that to be irrelevant to our everyday life.
Some religions say their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it. But we owe them nothing.
The earth was formed about 4.5 Billion years ago.
Humans evolved from other critters over many, many, many Generations (not years).
Some religions claim their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it.
We do not owe Harrisy or any religion for our existence.
The end
How does it all end?
No one knows. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
Christinity predicts a bad acid trip. (See Revaluations) Any day now. So buy your ticket to heaven early.
It's an obvious con, You sacrifice this life you already have, for the promise of another life they can't prove.
Science predicts 'Entropy'. Every atom in the universe will drift away from every other till they can't react any more.
But humans will be dead or evolved into something we can't recognize, by then. Too distant, time-wise, to worry about.
Your personal end? What happens when you die?
Most probably nothing.
Seems like every religion has a different 'afterlife'. They can't all be right. (but they can all be wrong)
You can't pick the one you want. If an 'afterlife' exists it is what it is. WE can't control it. No cult can control it.
The cults are telling you what you want to hear. So you give your CURRENT LIFE to their cult. The life that is certain, in exchange for an empty promise.
No guarantees, No refunds, You won't get your old life back if they are wrong (or lying).
Pascal's gamble is a sucker bet. It never pays out.
Harrisy aims to make This Current Life better, worth living for it's own sake. We give priority to This Current Life over any theoretical 'afterlife'.
Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
What's the point of Sexual Taboos?
Why would an IMORTAL (non-sexual, non-reproducing) being give a damn?
For example in the christian cult:
*Masturbation is sin,
*Spilling your seed outside the womb is sin,
*Marrying outside the church is sin,
*Divorce is sin,
*Birth Control is sin,
*Abortion is sin,
*Marriages without offspring are invalid.
*Brand (circumcise) your males, so your females know who they are allowed to mate with,
And in Is-lame, Women are just sexual slaves.
Taken as a whole,
The only purpose served by sexual taboos, is to help the CULT out-populate rival cults.
A REAL "creator god" wouldn't give a damn. Or Wouldn't need our cooperation. it would just create more of us, as needed.
A REAL creator wouldn't threaten us, it would just change us.
Sexual Taboos are serving a cult, not a god.
Harrisy has only one sexual taboo:
Rule G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
The 2000 year war
The Abrahamic religions have been at war with each other for about 2000 years. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.
But like some other religions, at all times attempting to be 'the one true religion'. And by their competition, doing more harm than good.
And the Abrahamic religions haven't even shown that the 'good' stuff needs their religion to get done.
They preach that it is somehow noble or their duty to spread their faith. ("Onward Christian Soldiers")
There are dangers associated with proselytism and/or evangelicalism:
(Please note - I had help with the following)
Focus on Conversion over Service:
Proselytism/evangelicalism prioritizes conversion goals over humanitarian or service-oriented activities.
This undermines the credibility and effectiveness of religious organizations engaged in charitable work,
as it is perceived as conditional or insincere.
Dogmatism and Exclusivity:
Evangelicalism/proselytism promotes a rigid, dogmatic interpretation of religious beliefs that excludes other perspectives.
This exclusivity leads to intolerance of differing viewpoints and hinders constructive dialogue and cooperation with people of other faiths or worldviews.
Coercion and Manipulation:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves coercion, manipulation, or exploitation of vulnerable individuals,
such as offering material incentives or exploiting power differentials to induce conversion.
This raises ethical concerns about respect for autonomy and informed consent.
Political Activism:
Evangelicalism/proselytism has been associated with political movements that prioritize specific social or moral issues, leading to controversy and polarization.
this politicization blurs the lines between religion and politics, compromising the integrity of both.
Interfaith Tensions:
Proselytism/evangelicalism contributes to interfaith tensions and conflicts, especially when it is aggressive or disrespectful to members of other religious communities.
It will undermine efforts to foster mutual respect, understanding, and cooperation among different faith traditions.
Fragmentation of Communities:
Proselytism/evangelicalism leads to the fragmentation or division of communities, particularly in contexts where multiple religious groups coexist.
This creates social tensions and weaken social cohesion, especially when proselytism is conducted in a confrontational or divisive manner.
Proselytization and Missionary Work:
We are concerned about aggressive or coercive methods used in proselytization/evangelicalism efforts,
especially when targeting vulnerable populations or in multicultural contexts.
This leads to cultural imperialism or disrespect for the autonomy of individuals and communities.
Cultural Insensitivity:
Proselytism/evangelicalism disregards or disrespects the cultural and religious traditions of the target community.
This leads to cultural imperialism or colonialism, especially when proselytism/evangelicalism is conducted in contexts where there is a history of exploitation or marginalization.
Misrepresentation or Simplification of Beliefs:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves oversimplification or misrepresentation of religious beliefs and practices in order to make them more appealing to potential converts.
This leads to misunderstandings or misconceptions about the beliefs and traditions of the proselytizing religion.
For these reasons we conscientious objectors to the religious war, need an uncompetitive religion like Harris-y.
But don't push it.
Humans and gods
Why do human religions have gods that are all too human?
A creator of everything that needs humans to wright/publish a holy book?
An all powerful god who needs humans to promote him?
An all powerful god with a vindictive human sized ego?
An immortal who is obsessed with human reproduction?
An all powerful god who needs humans more than we need him?
Any actual god wouldn't need human religion.
Harrisy serves humans, not gods.
Parables
Corn In A Cow Patty.
Finding truth in the Abrahamic holy books,
is like finding corn in a cow patty.
Sure there are some good kernels in there,
but is it really worth digging through the shit to find them?
You can find uncontaminated kernels of truth anywhere.
Feedback
Feedback should be sent to: zachharris@mail2hell.com
Don't expect a timely reply.
2024.05.21 16:04 Girls_Just_Wana_Swim The Sea's Princess: Sylvia Rhodes of The Caribbean
Sylvia https://imgur.com/gallery/GK6ShZQ
Height of 5'3"
Birthday: August 22, 2024
Born in Jamaica, Raised in California...
Godrent: Triton , Leiutenant of the sea..
Identity: Female (she/her), straight ally
Triton: father, never met him, hopes he's cool (and possibly hopes he'll give her something if they ever 'reunite'), Greek god
Naomi Rhodes: Kira's wife, stepmom, spoils Sylvia as well, 35, filmstar
Cerberus: her little black lab puppy, 3 months old, not the actual cerberus
Sylvia had, unironically, drenched a saleswoman in water from the mall fountain when the woman tried to touch her. Of course; Sylvia doesn't like that. No permission? No access. That's how she works. So of course she did not take kindly to a 'lowly salesperson' grabbing her 3,000 dollar faux-fur jacket.
When her mother explained everything, it seemed that everyone was in the loop. Her mom, her maid, her stepmom, everyone but her. But whatever.
Sylvia was born on one of the Caribbean islands and her and her mother moved to California when her mom stopped representing the Bahamas in the Olympics. That was when her mom's job took off like a rocket. And there she was, the rich, pretty, smart, popular girl at school who came from abroad (or about abroad at it can bs counted) and whose mom(s) were famous. Everyone wanted to be her, or with her, or something like that.
When she was 12, she'd gotten into a bad accident resulting in her scar. And she's ashamed of it.
Then, one of those 'stupid dog penguins' attacked Sylvia while she was at a beach party her school was hosting. Then her moms whisked her away to camp, where she was left to, as she put it, shrivel up and die.
She flicks her dreads over her shoulder and starts to walk into camp, standing tall and walking proud. Her while suitcases were all attached to eachother aside from her purse, which hung from her shoulder whilst she dragged the suitcases. She was not happy about this, but atleast her parents allowed her to pack whatever she wished.
So now she made her way down the hill, her silver ring shimmering with a seafoam green sheen. Of course, her Trident was hidden within it.
submitted by Girls_Just_Wana_Swim to CampHalfBloodRP [link] [comments]
Sylvia Rhodes
"One whom strives is one whom succeeds.."
Age: 15Height of 5'3"
Birthday: August 22, 2024
Born in Jamaica, Raised in California...
Godrent: Triton , Leiutenant of the sea..
Identity: Female (she/her), straight ally
Appearance:
Ebony skin, she always wears her hair in fashionable dreads with silver beads strewn through it. Heterechromia: One bright blue eye and one interestingly red-pink eye. No one can explain where it comes from. She has a scar down, diagonal, through her red-pink eye, she covers it with makeup often. Sylvia has snakebite piercings on either side of her bottom lip, that she switches out for shiny metals often, as if changing clothes. Her hair kind of moves like water.Personality:
Bratty rich girl - She gets what she wants, doesn't matter how she has to achieve it. If she wants it, it's her's. She gets angry easily and is good when it comes to manipulation and playing the victim. She's a bully, you're different? Weirdo. Kind of bully.Family:
Kira Rhodes: mother, famous model and ex-olympic swimmer, gives her daughter whatever she wants, 39Triton: father, never met him, hopes he's cool (and possibly hopes he'll give her something if they ever 'reunite'), Greek god
Naomi Rhodes: Kira's wife, stepmom, spoils Sylvia as well, 35, filmstar
Cerberus: her little black lab puppy, 3 months old, not the actual cerberus
Powers:
Weapons:
Trident - "it's pretty and practical, okay, darling?" High heel - "look, they're always there. It makes sense."Background...
Sylvia was 13 when her mother had to tell her the truth, who her father was.Sylvia had, unironically, drenched a saleswoman in water from the mall fountain when the woman tried to touch her. Of course; Sylvia doesn't like that. No permission? No access. That's how she works. So of course she did not take kindly to a 'lowly salesperson' grabbing her 3,000 dollar faux-fur jacket.
When her mother explained everything, it seemed that everyone was in the loop. Her mom, her maid, her stepmom, everyone but her. But whatever.
Sylvia was born on one of the Caribbean islands and her and her mother moved to California when her mom stopped representing the Bahamas in the Olympics. That was when her mom's job took off like a rocket. And there she was, the rich, pretty, smart, popular girl at school who came from abroad (or about abroad at it can bs counted) and whose mom(s) were famous. Everyone wanted to be her, or with her, or something like that.
When she was 12, she'd gotten into a bad accident resulting in her scar. And she's ashamed of it.
Then, one of those 'stupid dog penguins' attacked Sylvia while she was at a beach party her school was hosting. Then her moms whisked her away to camp, where she was left to, as she put it, shrivel up and die.
Present...
Sylvia stood at the edge of camp, wearing her baby blue tank-top crop-top and gray jeans with her (3,000 dollar) faux-fur jacket. Her blue heels weren't sinking in the dirt, yet.She flicks her dreads over her shoulder and starts to walk into camp, standing tall and walking proud. Her while suitcases were all attached to eachother aside from her purse, which hung from her shoulder whilst she dragged the suitcases. She was not happy about this, but atleast her parents allowed her to pack whatever she wished.
So now she made her way down the hill, her silver ring shimmering with a seafoam green sheen. Of course, her Trident was hidden within it.
2024.05.21 12:31 laurnnicol The Truth 😇
 | submitted by laurnnicol to Paypigssearching [link] [comments] |
2024.05.21 06:13 omegacluster New Music Additions 2024-05-20
Today's additions are:
submitted by omegacluster to ctebcm [link] [comments]
- We don't suck, we blow! - Chimneys (Tags: hip hop, jazz, rock, beat, beats, fusion, hip-hop, jazz, rock, samples, Hamburg) [JazzLab]
- Haishen - Awaken the Endless Deep (Tags: metal, rock, ambient, post-rock, progressive, Rochester) [Needlejuice]
- Vulvodynia - Entabeni (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
- Intervals - memory palace (Tags: metal, progressive, rock, independent, instrumental, prog, Toronto) [Independent]
- Oppress. - The Subtle Art of Turning Gold into Shit (Tags: black metal, extreme metal, metal, death metal, United Kingdom) [Independent]
- Clæmus - Mercurial (EP) (Tags: metal, experimental rock, progressive metal, Wellington) [Independent]
- Francisco Domínguez - Arrosa xuriaren artean (Tags: classical, avant garde, contemporary, electronic, Vitoria Gasteiz) [Ensemble Sinkro]
- Markgraf - Hohenbaden (Tags: black metal, heavy metal, metal, Baden Baden) [Independent]
- Demersal - Demersal (Tags: metal, hardcore, metallic hardcore, screamo, Odense) [Independent]
- yaya bey - Ten Fold (Tags: hip hop, hip-hop, r&b, r&b/soul, rap, soul, Brooklyn) [Big Dada]
- Knocked Loose - You Won't Go Before You're Supposed To (Tags: metal, metalcore, beatdown, hardcore, metallic hardcore, numetal, sludge, Louisville) [Pure Noise]
- The Tangent - To Follow Polaris (Tags: rock, yes, genesis, prog, prog rock, progressive, progressive rock, van der graaf generator, London) [InsideOut Music]
- Sidus Atrum - “Розірване Небо (Torn Sky)” (Tags: female fronted metal, metal, atmospheric, blackened death doom, blackened doom, blackened doom metal, death doom metal, doom metal, ukrainian black metal, ukrainian metal, Kyiv) [Independent]
- GOD MOTHER - Sinneseld (Tags: death metal, grindcore, hardcore, metal, power violence, Stockholm) [Independent]
- Bab L' Bluz - Swaken (Tags: blues, psychedelic trance, funk, gnawa, Marrakesh) [Real World]
- Speed Dealer Moms - Birth Control Pill (Tags: electronic, idm, los angeles, analog, breakcore, breaks, experimental electronic, jungle, leftfield, rave, Winnipeg) [Evar]
- EABS - Reflections of Purple Sun (Tags: jazz, jazz fusion, ambient, breakbeat, hip hop, jazz, jazz-funk, poland, spiritual jazz, techno, Wrocław) [Astigmatic]
- Vaticinal Rites - Cascading Memories Of Immortality (Tags: brescia, death metal, italy, metal, Brescia) [Everlasting Spew]
- Thot - Delta (Tags: rock, industrial rock, noise rock, post-metal, post-punk, post-rock, Brussel) [Pelagic]
- Shane Parish - Repertoire (Tags: alternative, fingerpicking, folk guitar, jazz, music, solo guitar, Athens) [Palilalia]
- we broke the weather - Restart Game (Tags: boston, rock, garage prog, jazz fusion, math rock, nu-jazz, post-rock, prog rock, progressive rock, psych rock, stoner rock, Somerville) [Independent]
- Brad Mehldau - After Bach II (Tags: jazz, classical, genius, piano, piano solo, Amsterdam) [Nonesuch]
- Brad Mehldau - Après Fauré (Tags: jazz, classical, genius, piano, piano solo, Amsterdam) [Nonesuch]
- Sonus Umbra - Whiteout Hi Res (24 bit) (Tags: progressive rock, rock, Chicago) [Progrock.com's Essentials]
- Dälek - Negro Necro Nekros (Tags: hip-hop/rap, hip hop, hip-hop, rap, underground, underground hip hop, Union City) [Ipecac]
- Iravu/Mumuksu - Sudra (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, death metal, extreme metal, metal, rabm, ambient, blackened doom, dark ambient, doom metal, red anarchist black metal, Malaysia) [Iravu]
- SVNEATR - Never Return (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackened death metal, canadian black metal, metal, progressive black metal, Vancouver) [Prosthetic]
- SYK - eartHFlesh (Tags: metal, black-metal, death-metal, extreme-metal, groove-metal, progressive, Italy) [Season of Mist]
- Yi-Ting Lu - An Unopened Seashell (Tags: bassoon, contemporary classical, guitar, harp, piano, saxophone, New York) [New Focus]
- Dreare - Foregone (Tags: metal, drone, instrumental, post-metal, progressive, synth, Czech Republic) [Independent]
- Sithu Aye - Kindness (Tags: metal, djent, instrumental, progressive metal, Glasgow) [Independent]
- Mountainscape - Iridescent (Tags: blackgaze, metal, instrumental, post-blackmetal, post-metal, post-rock, soundtrack, Reading) [Celestial Diadem]
- Ehtëk - Íncst (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, metal, post black metal) [Independent]
- no funeral records - Gil Cerrone / Letterbombs Split (Tags: australia, finland, kitchener, on, punk, emo, emoviolence, screamo, skramz, Canada) [Independent]
- Eat Your Own Head - The Trawler - EP (Tags: alternative, rock, alternative, grunge, independent music, math rock, math-rock, post-rock, rock, London) [Drongo]
- GNAW THEIR TONGUES - Hagetisse - The fountain of fallen stars (Tags: black metal, drone, experimental, Smallingerland) [Independent]
- Crystalline Thunderbolts Pierce The Sacred Mountain - Shine Like The Suicidal Madness Of The Sacred Amethyst (Tags: black metal, drone, experimental, Smallingerland) [GNAW THEIR TONGUES]
- No Teeth - Decadence In Breeding (Tags: experimental, art rock, experimental rock, garage, noise rock, post-punk, Newcastle Upon Tyne) [Post Post Music]
- JOURS PÂLES - DISSOLUTION (Tags: asphodèle, black metal, blackgaze, emotional black metal, french black metal, jours pâles, ladlo, melancolic metal, France) [Les Acteurs de l'ombre]
- Atavistia - Inane Ducam (I will lead into nothingness) (Tags: black metal, blackened death metal, death metal, melodic metal, metal, brutal metal, epic metal, melodic death metal, Vancouver) [Independent]
- Black Hole Deity - Profane Geometry (Tags: brescia, death metal, italy, metal, tech death metal, brutal death metal, tech death, Brescia) [Everlasting Spew]
- olim - Because (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackgaze, metal, post black metal, post-black, Greater Sudbury) [Independent]
- Bleached Cross - Columns of Impenetrable Light (Tags: punk, darkwave, electronic, experimental, post-punk) [Independent]
- Windows96 - Yes Da Da Da (Tags: electronic, chillwave, psychedelic, synthwave, vaporwave, São Paulo) [Independent]
- ELECTROMANCER - Enforcer (Tags: thrash metal, 80s, metal, metalcore, instrumental, metal, progressive metal, synthwave, video game music, Australia) [Paul Wardingham]
- svrm - Прощання (Tags: black metal, metal, Kharkiv) [Independent]
- Chase Elodia - Have, Know, Want (Tags: jazz, indie, jazz, rock, Brooklyn) [Biophilia]
- Paradox Rift - Ensnared (Tags: metal, deathmetal, grindcore, melodic death metal, progressive metal, Cleveland) [Independent]
- MATTHEW SHIPP - THE DATA (Tags: jazz, matthew shipp, avant garde jazz, avant-garde music, free jazz, improvised music. rogueart, jazz piano, new york jazz, piano, Paris) [RogueArt]
- The Rhythm Method - Pastorale (Tags: acoustic, classical, experimental, classical, contemporary classical, experimental, flute, holiday music, new music, post asmr, string quartet, New York) [Independent]
- Katt Rán - SÁLA (Tags: alternative, folk, icelandic, nordic, pagan, viking, Delft) [Svart]
- John O'Gallagher - Beast (Tags: jazz, alto saxophone, free improv, free jazz, "john ogallagher", modern jazz, nu jazz, spiritual jazz, vinyl, whirlwind recordings, Birmingham) [Whirlwind]
- Liturgy - Immortal Life II (Tags: experimental, black metal, Brooklyn) [Independent]
- A Night In Texas - Digital Apocalypse (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
- Like Moths To Flames - The Cycles Of Trying To Cope (Tags: metal, metalcore, hardcore, Columbus) [UNFD]
- Rendered Helpless - From Nothing Comes All (Tags: death metal, deathcore, doom, metal, progressive, slam, slamming brutal death metal, sludge, Christchurch) [Independent]
- Colin Stetson - The love it took to leave you (Tags: experimental, indie, jazz, instrumental, Montréal) [Envision]
- Cosmic Jaguar - El Era del Jaguar (Tags: death metal, metal, technical metal, technical thrash metal, thrash metal, avant-garde, progressive metal, world music, Zhytomyr) [Independent]
- BALWEZO WESTIJIZ - Tower Of Famine (Tags: black metal, sweden, Kitchener) [Profound Lore]
- Cruce Signatus - Cruce Signatus (Tags: dungeon synth, metal, synthwave & darksynth, Milwaukee) [Independent]
- Gaylord - Baseball Bats and Butterfly Knives (Tags: grind, grindcore, lgbtq, metal, queer, queercore, antifa, black metal, lgbtq, Canada) [Independent]
- Mark Guiliana - MARK (Tags: jazz, rock, electronic, instrumental, jazz and improvised music, Los Angeles) [Edition]
- Summoning The Lich - Under The Reviled Throne (Tags: death metal, metal, thrash metal, St. Louis) [Prosthetic]
- Houle - Ciel Cendre et Misère Noire (Tags: black metal, death metal, melodic black metal, metal, Paris) [Independent]
- Luna Li - When a Thought Grows Wings (Tags: alternative, dreamy, groovy, indie, pop, Los Angeles) [In Real Life]
- The Plot In You - Vol. 2 (Tags: alternative, hardcore, metal, metalcore, post-hardcore, rock, Ohio) [Fearless]
- Drawn from Ichor - Up Into The Wolfs Jaw (Tags: death metal, metal, Sheffield) [Independent]
- TESTO - Marya.Ivan (Tags: idm, world, dub, folklore, jungle, world music, Saint Petersburg) [Independent]
- Anna Gadt, Marta Grzywacz, Natalia Kordiak, Gosia Zagajewska - VOICEACT (Tags: anna gadt, cecil taylor, gosia zagajewska, impro, jazz, marta grzywacz, natalia kordiak, vice, free impro, fsrecords.net, improvisation, music, piano, Warsaw) [Fundacja Słuchaj]
- Pijn - From Low Beams Of Hope (Tags: experimental, rock, ambient, doom, drone, post-metal, post-rock, Manchester) [Floodlit]
- JACK - Split with Chadhel (Tags: rock, grindcore-crossover, hardcore, punk, Hungary) [Independent]
- Milton Nascimento & Esperanza Spalding - Milton + esperanza (Tags: jazz, New York) [Concord Jazz]
- Fake Fruit - Mucho Mistrust (Tags: punk, indie rock, lunchmeat, oakland, post-punk, wobbly, Oakland) [Carpark]
- Fire-Toolz - Breeze (Tags: electronic, idm, alternative rock, cybergrind, electro-industrial, emo, experimental, experimental electronic, fusion, glitch, grindcore, jazz fusion, new age, noise, noisecore, prog, Chicago) [Independent]
- Oxygen Destroyer - Guardian of the Universe (Tags: angelcorpse, metal, morbid angel, death metal, death thrash, death thrash metal, demolition hammer, kreator, morbid saint, vader, Seattle) [Redefining Darkness]
- Soften The Glare - EP III (Tags: rock, math rock, progmetal, progrock, Raleigh) [Independent]
- The Flying Luttenbachers - Spectral Warrior Mythos 2 (Tags: experimental, grindcore, modern classical, no wave, noise, post punk, New York) [UG Explode]
- TALL MARY - When Will I Find Something New (Tags: drone, experimental, noise punk, post rock, Vancouver) [Kingfisher Bluez]
- Цар Стангра - Битката за Фиорда - На живо в Сагене (Tags: black metal, bulgaria, metal, dark ambiant, folk, ritualistic, Canada) [Independent]
- Anarchÿ - The Spectrum of Human Emotion (Tags: melodic metal, melodic thrash metal, metal, technical thrash metal, progressive metal, progressive thrash metal, speed-metal, thrash, thrash metal, St. Louis) [Independent]
- PreHistoric Animals - Finding Love In Strange Places (Tags: alternative, alternative rock, prog rock, progmetal, Sweden) [Dutch Music Works]
- THE LAST OF LUCY - Godform (Tags: metal, brutal death metal, death metal, deathcore, grind, grindcore, hardcore, mathcore, progressive death metal, progressive metal, tech death, technical death, technical death metal, us death metal, United States) [Transcending Obscurity]
- And So I Watch You From Afar - Megafauna (Tags: alternative, instrumental, rock, Belfast) [Independent]
- ColdCell - Age Of Unreason (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, depressive black metal, extreme metal, metal, Basel) [Independent]
- IXION - RESTRICTION (Tags: electronic, metal, ambient, androids, atmospheric metal, blade runner, doom metal, electronica, gothic metal, robots, synthwave, France) [Independent]
- William Soovik Grand Finale - Once More, Dear Friends! (Tags: contemporary jazz, experimental, free jazz, gothenburg jazz, grunge jazz, jazz, rock, saxophone, swedish jazz, Gothenburg) [Independent]
- Carb On Carb - Take Time (Tags: new zealand, punk, emo, emo revival, midwest emo, pop punk, Whanganui) [Independent]
- اکوان (Akvan) - سووشون (Tags: black metal, black metal from iran, blackened death metal, iran, iranian black metal, metal, Iran) [Independent]
- Claire Cross - Sleep Cycle (Tags: jazz, ambient, australian jazz, chamber, contemporary jazz, folk, minimalism, nu jazz, progressive rock, Berlin) [Art as Catharsis]
- Extortionist - Devoid Of Love & Light (Tags: deathcore, extortionist, hardcore, industrial, metal, metalcore, unique leader records) [Unique Leader]
- Sebastien Ammann - Change Of Course (Tags: jazz, New York) [Ropeadope]
- Pallbearer - Mind Burns Alive (Tags: epic doom metal, metal, Little Rock) [Nuclear Blast]
- COGNITIVE - Abhorrence (Tags: death metal, metal, progressive, slam, technical death metal, grindcore, Jersey) [Metal Blade]
- Botanist - Paleobotany (Deluxe Edition) (Tags: metal, avant-garde, black metal, experimental, hammered dulcimer, San Francisco) [Prophecy]
- NOCTURNUS AD - Unicursal (Tags: black metal, death metal, metal, heavy metal, Tampa) [Profound Lore]
- Kulk - It Gets Worse (Tags: alternative, norwich, doom, doom metal, heavy, post-metal, psychedelic, sludge, stoner metal, stoner rock, United Kingdom) [Human Worth]
- Inner Landscape - 3H33 (Tags: metal, post-hardcore, post-metal, Lyon) [Independent]
- Eigenstate Zero - The Malthusian (Tags: metal, deathmetal, djent, jazzmetal, melodeath, melodic death metal, nogenre, prog, progressive death metal, progressive metal, techdeath, Stockholm) [Independent]
- DAVID MURRAY QUARTET with Marta Sanchez, Luke Stewart and Russell Carter - Francesca (Tags: david murray, luke stewart, composition, improvisation, jazz, marta sanchez, Zurich) [Intakt]
- BORDERLANDS TRIO with Stephan Crump, Kris Davis, Eric McPherson - Rewilder (Tags: eric mcpherson, kris davis, stephan crump, composition, free jazz, improvisation, jazz, Zurich) [Intakt]
- Big Chef - Mud Wrestling Sydney Sweeny Perched High Upon a Mountain Peak, Beneath a Canopy of Shimmering Starlight (a millennial's american dream) x :) (Tags: beefcore, deathgrind, death metal, deathcore, metal, thall, djent, goregrind, grindcore, slam, slamming brutal death metal, Australia) [Independent]
- öz ürügülü - Della Morte dell’Artista (Tags: frank zappa, jazz, mats morgan band, morgan ågren, mr. bungle, panzerballett, secret chiefs 3, snarky puppy, experimental rock, film music, fusion, jacob collier, odd time signatures, oriental, poil, progressive, Zug) [Independent]
- Maddalena Ghezzi - Dolomite (Tags: electronic, jazz, avant-garde, contemporary, contemporary jazz, songs, London) [Independent]
- Gatecreeper - Dark Superstition (Tags: crust, death metal, doom, hardcore, metal, Arizona) [Nuclear Blast]
- Liraz - Enerjy - انرژی (Tags: farsi, global disco, world, electropop, persian, pop, retro, world-disco, Tel Aviv Yafo) [Batov]
- i Häxa - Part Two (Tags: alternative, dark ambient, dark folk, electronic music, indie, trip hop, London) [Pelagic]
- Karen Willems - JUJU (Tags: soundtrack, avant-garde, percussive, sound collage, Maldegem) [Werf]
- ZILF - Reanimated (Tags: alternative, djent, indie, mathcore, metal, metalcore, rock, technical metal, thrash metal, United Kingdom) [Independent]
- Layale Chaker & Sarafand - Radio Afloat (ICR031) (Tags: arabic jazz, world, arabic jazz, arabic vocals, chamber music, improvised chamber jazz, improvised piano, jazz, jazz and improvised music, violin, world music, Brooklyn) [In a Circle]
- Ambient Jazz Ensemble - Spirit Dance (Tags: jazz, ambient, ambient jazz, ambient jazz ensemble, chillout, cinematic, cinematic jazz, jazz, lounge, lounge music, rnb, London) [Here & Now]
- Tzompantli - Beating the Drums of Ancestral Force (Tags: metal, black metal, death metal, doom metal, heavy metal, Pittsburgh) [20 Buck Spin]
- James Ilgenfritz - Stay Logged In On This Trusted Device (Tags: experimental, New York) [Infrequent Seams]
- Joe Rocca - Hybride (Tags: hip-hop, hip-hop/rap, r&b, rap, soul, Montreal) [Bonsound]
- Thought Trials - This Has Always Been With You (Tags: rock, ambient, electronica, instrumental post-rock, post-rock, Buffalo) [Post.]
- Christopher Cerrone - Beaufort Scales (Tags: classical, classical contemporary music, classical, contemporary classical, electronic, experimental, new music, vocal, vocal ensemble, Brooklyn) [Cold Blue Music]
- wthAura - gumballs (Tags: alternative, experimental, rock, intstrumental, math rock, prog rock, Philadelphia) [Independent]
- Gabriel Dharmoo - Vestiges d'une fable (Tags: classical, experimental, avant-garde, classical, contemporary, contemporary classical, vocal, Toronto) [Centrediscs]
- Le Double - Le Double (Tags: alternative, electronic, contemporary classical, contemporary jazz, new music, poetry and music, Canada) [Corne de brume]
- Hvile I Kaos - Lower Order Manifestations (Tags: black metal, experimental, metal, chambermusic, neoclassical, occult, Los Angeles) [Independent]
- Viacrucis - Melhorament (Tags: atmospheric black metal, black metal, blackened death metal, death metal, metal, rouyn-noranda, atmospheric, cathar, metal noir, occitan, occitanie, Gaspé) [Independent]
- Gabriel Genest - As It Is (Tags: jazz, canadian jazz, chamber jazz, contemporary jazz, modern jazz, Montreal) [Independent]
- Darko - Greyscale (Tags: a wilhelm scream, melodic hardcore, propagandi, punk, strung out, technical melodic punk) [Lockjaw]
- Federico Bonacossa - Elettroarmonico (Tags: contemporary classical, electric guitar, experimental, New York) [New Focus]
- Hemotoxin - When Time Becomes Loss (Tags: death metal, melodic, metal, thrash metal, progressive, technical, San Francisco) [Independent]
- JISEI - POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS (Tags: deathcore, punk, beatdown, deathcore, falsegrind, hardcore, lgbtq+, trans, Vancouver) [Independent]
- Maudits - Précipice (Tags: metal, ambient, instrumental, post, Paris) [Independent]
- Avoid Humanity - Between Now and Never (Tags: metal, hardcore, Bucharest) [Independent]
- Kavyesh Kaviraj - Fables (Tags: creative jazz, jazz, avant garde jazz, contemporary jazz, jazz and improvised music, jazz piano, modern jazz, nu-jazz, Minneapolis) [Shifting Paradigm]
- Nebula Orionis - The Long Path to Nowhere (Tags: metal, ambient, atmospheric black metal, cinematic, cosmic, space metal, Russia) [Independent]
- TERAMAZE - Eli : A Wonderful Fall From Grace (Tags: metal, progressive metal, progressive rock, rock, Melbourne) [Independent]
- Gnarwhal - Altered States (Tags: hard rock, rock, fuzz, stoner, Yellowknife) [Independent]
- Lower Automation - Welcome to My Deathbed (Tags: alternative, experimental punk, goth, industrial, math punk, mathcore, noise rock, post punk, punk, Illinois) [Independent]
- MULA - Cúmulo abierto (Tags: punk, rock, spoken word, experimental rock, free jazz, improvised music, jazz, noise, noise ambient, prog, Bogotá) [Independent]
- Nyktophobia - To The Stars (Tags: black metal, death metal, metal, Datteln) [Apostasy]
- EVILYN - Mondestrunken (Tags: metal, brutal death metal, death metal, dissonant, dissonant death metal, experimental death metal, progressive, progressive death, progressive death metal, tech death, technical death, technical death metal, United States) [Transcending Obscurity]
- OGIVES BIG BAND - Boisterous Love (Tags: experimental, hard rock, metal, metalcore, noise rock, progressive, progressive hardcore, psychedelic, soundtrack, hardcore, Bristol) [Stolen Body]
- Arx Atrata - A Reckoning (Tags: atmospheric black metal, metal, black metal, blackened doom metal, epic black metal, post black metal, Nottingham) [Independent]
- Progfox - Visitation III (Tags: Metal) [schitzocore entertainment]
- Voidsmen - Ice Age Part 0: Blood Furnace (Tags: metal, salt lake city, doom, doom metal, sludge, space doom, space metal, space rock, Salt Lake City) [Independent]
- Filip Żółtowski Quartet released by Alpaka Records - BiBi (Tags: electronic, hip hop, jazz, fusion, hip hop instrumentals, jazz, nujazz, Poland) [Filip Żółtowski Quartet]
- Strelitzia - Winter (Tags: rock, emo, experimental rock, independent, indie rock, math rock, math-rock, midwest emo, post-hardcore, post-rock, Gilbert) [Independent]
- Ugly Robot - The Space Between Us (Tags: rock, classic rock, experimental rock, indie rock, indietronica, math rock, Albuquerque) [Independent]
- Anoxide - Morals & Dogma (Tags: death metal, metal, brutal death metal, goregrind, slam, slamming brutal death metal, United States) [Ghastly Music]
- Otomo Yoshihide and Chris Pitsiokos - Uncanny Mirror (Tags: experimental, avant-garde, free jazz, improvisation, jazz, noise, New York) [Chris Pitsiokos / ELEATIC]
- Alex Harding & Lucian Ban - Blutopia (Tags: jazz, avant-garde, modern classical, piano, post bop, New York) [Sunnyside]
- On Ka’a Davis - …Here’s to Another Day and Night for the Lwa of the Woke (Tags: Jazz) [Tzadik]
- SHOKRAN - Duat (Tags: metal, djent, math, oriental, progressive metal, solo guitar, Russia) [Independent]
- Black Dresses - LAUGHINGFISH (Tags: alternative, electronic, industrial, noise pop, sci-fi, Toronto) [Independent]
- Sushma Soma - THE MOUNTAIN HAS THE LAST SAY (Tags: carnatic, experimental, indian music, world, world music, tamil folk, Singapore) [Independent]
- Les Fantômes du jour - Ravages (Tags: progressive rock, rock, art rock, nantes, post-hardcore, post-metal, post-prog, post-rock, progressive metal, Nantes) [Ajna Management]
- Clear Clover - Spectate (Tags: industrial metal, metal, rock, ambient, electronic, industrial, instrumental, new age, progressive metal, vaporwave, Montreal) [Independent]
- A Wake In Providence - I Write To You, My Darling Decay (Tags: ) [Unique Leader]
2024.05.21 04:22 serinbaxtor Work uniforms kinda suck
So don't get me wrong I understand the reason for a uniform is to make sure that your workers are recognizable so that people can come to them for help but do they have to be so uncomfortable and ugly?
When it comes to office buildings I think it is strange to be forced to wear uncomfortable suit and ties just to sit at a desk and fill out papers and answer phone calls. Honestly most of the people you are likely to see is you other coworkers and that is it.
Customer service and restaurant jobs are just as bad. As someone who has mainly worked in restaurants the clothing choices are not flattering and it seems like the materials are terribly made
Where I used to work they required us to wear tshirts tucked into kaki pants. Even in the middle of summer when our AC and drink machines went out only our delivery guys were allowed to wear shorts.they also require us to wear a specific shirt that you have to pay 30$ for or else you only have the one shirt
The job I work at now is not as bad looking but it is still uncomfortable. They require us to wear polo shirts that are extremely constricting, you can see every spill or mess (which happens alot in a restaurant). The men's tops are extremely long so they are required to be tucked in and the women's shirts are designed to be tighter and short enough that most of the girls have their stomach exposed when they lift their arms. You get two shirts and if you want more then 40$ a shirt.
The pants options are a dark wash pair of jeans but not too dark. They actually have a color chart they check us with in case it is too light or dark. There is the option to wear a golf Skirt but it has to be an A-line skort with belt loops and a 5 inch inseam. Looking for that specific skort is really hard to find especially since it has to be a poly cotton blend but it can't be a specific texture. The only ones they link us to is from something similar to trader Joe's which I don't have a membership to. If I don't wear pants or a skort then they have black gold shorts but I have been dress coded for them "not looking golf shorty enough".
Shoes are the standard nonslip but they cannot be any other color aside from all black. There has been times people have been dress coded for shoes having offered colored bottoms , logos, or strings. Earrings can only be stud earrings and cannot have anything else. Some of.the servers got in trouble havimg cutsey frog earrings or flower earrings. You are only allowed one piercing in your ear and no face piercings at all. I understand the worry of them getting snagged or falling in food but the different between a basic stud earrings and a frog face earrings doesn't matter.
Tattoos are allowed but servers are forced to cover them up if they have a connecting sleeve or neck tattoos. Nail polish is only allowed by female servers and they have to be "perfect".
They have sent servers home for.little things even though the store is already short staffed. They focus on the little details when the focus should be on our guests. I think that the ice machine breaking down every other day, the dish machine leaking out into the floor, and pos systems not reading cards is more important than sending someone home for having pink bows in their hair
submitted by serinbaxtor to unpopularopinion [link] [comments]
When it comes to office buildings I think it is strange to be forced to wear uncomfortable suit and ties just to sit at a desk and fill out papers and answer phone calls. Honestly most of the people you are likely to see is you other coworkers and that is it.
Customer service and restaurant jobs are just as bad. As someone who has mainly worked in restaurants the clothing choices are not flattering and it seems like the materials are terribly made
Where I used to work they required us to wear tshirts tucked into kaki pants. Even in the middle of summer when our AC and drink machines went out only our delivery guys were allowed to wear shorts.they also require us to wear a specific shirt that you have to pay 30$ for or else you only have the one shirt
The job I work at now is not as bad looking but it is still uncomfortable. They require us to wear polo shirts that are extremely constricting, you can see every spill or mess (which happens alot in a restaurant). The men's tops are extremely long so they are required to be tucked in and the women's shirts are designed to be tighter and short enough that most of the girls have their stomach exposed when they lift their arms. You get two shirts and if you want more then 40$ a shirt.
The pants options are a dark wash pair of jeans but not too dark. They actually have a color chart they check us with in case it is too light or dark. There is the option to wear a golf Skirt but it has to be an A-line skort with belt loops and a 5 inch inseam. Looking for that specific skort is really hard to find especially since it has to be a poly cotton blend but it can't be a specific texture. The only ones they link us to is from something similar to trader Joe's which I don't have a membership to. If I don't wear pants or a skort then they have black gold shorts but I have been dress coded for them "not looking golf shorty enough".
Shoes are the standard nonslip but they cannot be any other color aside from all black. There has been times people have been dress coded for shoes having offered colored bottoms , logos, or strings. Earrings can only be stud earrings and cannot have anything else. Some of.the servers got in trouble havimg cutsey frog earrings or flower earrings. You are only allowed one piercing in your ear and no face piercings at all. I understand the worry of them getting snagged or falling in food but the different between a basic stud earrings and a frog face earrings doesn't matter.
Tattoos are allowed but servers are forced to cover them up if they have a connecting sleeve or neck tattoos. Nail polish is only allowed by female servers and they have to be "perfect".
They have sent servers home for.little things even though the store is already short staffed. They focus on the little details when the focus should be on our guests. I think that the ice machine breaking down every other day, the dish machine leaking out into the floor, and pos systems not reading cards is more important than sending someone home for having pink bows in their hair
2024.05.21 03:50 BackgroundPitch9181 Can someone explain these brutal verses in the Old Testament? I'm consufed and shocked.
- Exodus 21:20-21:
Doesnt this mean the bible allows you to beat your slaves so long as they don't die from the beating right away? Who did this apply to at the time? Why would God allow this?.
- What about 1 Samuel 15:3? "Now go and attack Amalek, and utterly destroy all that they have, and do not spare them. But kill both man and woman, infant and nursing child, ox and sheep, camel and donkey.’ ”
- And 2 Kings 6:29 "So we boiled my son and ate him. And on the next day I said to her, ‘Give your son, that we may eat him.’ But she has hidden her son.”"
2024.05.21 02:18 SoloWing1 The Skalgan [20-Alt]
AUTHOR'S NOTE
This is going to be a side project that will get slowly updated, if ever. It's a fun idea I have been mulling over for a few months now, but don't see myself fully committing to it in the future. It's not going to be the main story I am working on, nor will it ever be referenced in other chapters unless I explicitly say so in the author's notes.
This is an alternative timeline for The Skalgan, and this will begin in the middle of Chapter 20. As such, the first half of this chapter will be identical to the first half of that chapter.
Enjoy.
Memory transcription subject: Dr. Rebecca Taylor, M.D., Ph.D., Human exchange program participant, U.N. Therapist
Date [Standardized human time]: February 3, 2137
I quickly tightened my grip around Jorlka’s paw to reassure him. His breathing had stopped, and his tail movements became a bit erratic.
“If you are NOT okay with this, then it’s fine. We would never want you to feel pressured into something you are not comfortable with doing. Nobody will be upset with you.”
I do not fucking care how much Havingsway bitches at me. I will protect Jorlka.
“I-I-I… I mean… How would…” His eyes were darting around, examining my face all over, like his was trying to decipher information that wasn’t there.
“Jorlka, breath. Please.” I let the hand on top of his paw go and reached to his back to lightly pat it. His eyes shut tight at this and he did as I asked, letting in a long breath and holding it. For bit longer than felt comfortable. “… Okay, now exhale.”
He released the air with a loud pant.
“Do… Do you want to… Here?” His face was still maintaining that bright orange glow all over, from the tips of his ears to his snout. I would be swooning over this adorable vestige if I didn’t know that the person in front of me was incredibly stressed.
“No, not here. We’ve got a room set aside for you. Private. Nobody will be there with you.”
“N-No… Nobody?” He started to calm down and his expression and look in his eyes switched to one of puzzlement. “Then… How would you…” He paused as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t… Not without help?”
“What do you…” I returned his puzzled look with one in kind, then focused on the paw I was holding.
Claws. He can’t… Male Venlil don’t… OH MY GOD. I am fucking pissed at myself for never even considering that before. He thought that I was going to… OH MY GOD!
I looked back at him, right in the eye. “Th-that’s not a problem! They’ve got special tools and materials in the room so that you can do it without help! And if there’s anything you need, I’m certain the staff would happily help you get it.”
We already know there are enough Venlil who would jump at the chance. Hell, Havingsway is desperate enough that he may both figuratively and literally bend over for this… Fuck, I would even call Freya down if you asked.
“I… I see.” He had finally calmed down enough to start thinking properly again. “And… This is needed to fix my people?”
“It’s not absolutely needed. Our scientists, Human and Venlil, are more than capable of undoing the damage that the federation caused… But your samples would expedite the work by… God, probably years.” I dug my fingers into the wool on his back as I comforted him. My god, his wool was even softer and smoother than Freya’s was, and I love running my fingers through hers.
“I see…” Jorlka repeated himself, and closed his eyes, becoming lost in thought. We sat in silence for several moments, and I continued to gently caress his paw in one hand and embraced his back with the other. He could take all the time he needed; I was no rush.
“… V-very well. I… I’ll do it.” His eyes opened again and looked at mine again.
“Are you certain? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t. I promise yo-“
His ears and tail lashed with irritation. “Please, just stop before I do actually change my mind.” His voice cracked slightly. His performance wasn’t as convincing as he had hoped, but it will have to do.
“… Alright. Come, I’ll take you down.” I helped him to his feet and lowered the hand to the center of his spine. We made our way out of the office and down the hall without any words. His ears were still twitching erratically from time to time, clearly indicating that his thoughts on this were mixed.
There really wasn’t much else I could say or do to alleviate his stress. If he’s found the confidence to go through with this, then we’ll capitalize on it. We got down to the furthest part of the wing, and there stood two individuals in white lab coats. A male human and a female Venlil: Dr. Havingsway and Bilvi.
The two of them introduced themselves and offered to take Jorlka into the room behind them.
I turned Jorlka to me one more time, away from the pair. “Okay, Jorlka. Are you sure now? There is no judgement or shame if you have second thoughts.”
Havingsway stared daggers at me as I said these words. I glared back quickly, with a look that said ’I will find a baseball bat’. I swear to fucking god, I might actually turn violent if I get wind that these two pressured him. The message was received as he averted his eyes from me with a brief flash of fear.
“I’m… I’m fine. I need to do this.” I pulled him into a hug, giving him a reassuring embrace, and whispered into his ear.
“My office is just back down the hall. Come back right away, okay? I’ll be there for you, even if you back out.”
His breathing hitched, and he softly replied back. “… Thank you.”
I released and let the pair of doctors take him through the door. I watched as it closed behind him, then turned back to my office.
[Time advancement: 40 minutes]
He should have been back by now… I think. How long do male Venlil...
I shook my head to rid myself of that thought. I actually didn’t want to know. I turned my head to look at my water kettle which had finished boiling. I emptied a packet of instant coffee into a mug and poured the water in after it.
There was a ding from my computer, indicating that I just got an email. Thank goodness, I’d been going a bit stir crazy. Jorlka is scheduled to be my entire day today because of how important he is, so I haven’t had much to do but worry about him.
I poured in a packet of sugar, and a little cup of real cream that I swiped from the special cafeteria–I’ve never liked the non-dairy stuff–and stirred the mug with a plastic spoon as I returned to my desk to check the email.
Sitting at my desk, I set the mug aside and opened my mailbox, to find that I had received a new message from the team responsible for handling information from the Archives. They were the ones responsible for sorting and getting back to each of the different alien societies that were negatively impacted by the actions of the Federation. They were also the ones that had found Jorlka’s cryopod.
This is unusual. I figured I was done talking with them now that Jorlka was safely brought back to his home. I opened the email.
[ERROR. ERROR. ANAMOLY DETECTED IN TRANSCRIPTION.]
[RESUME PLAYBACK? Y/N]
[Y]
[RESUMING PLAYBACK]
Dear Dr. Taylor:
We have recently come across a new discovery in the Archives: Additional files pertaining to the Venlil that was originally found within, as well as a shocking new revelation.
He was not the only one. We have found a second pod that was buried away in the furthest depths, forgotten by the archivists themselves. We scoured all records pertaining to the Venlil and only found a single file that references this Venlil.
Attached to this email is an image we have taken of the cryopod and its occupant, as well as the relevant files. We believe this Venlil has ties to the one that you have already been working with, so we will be sending this pod to you for you to awaken.
The new Venlil will arrive within 5 days.
The UN Archive recovery team
Oh, holy shit! Jorlka isn’t alone anymore?! I hastily opened the first file. It was a record directly from the Archive, recorded by an unnamed Farsul scientist. It was recorded in their language, but the translator in the software quickly turned the text to plain English for me.
Subject_001
Species: Venlil
Sex: Male
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first Venlil we have abducted as we begin our efforts to indoctrinate the planet of Skalga Venlil Prime. We have elected to keep this subject in stasis, and to keep their physiology untouched. If and when we go about altering the genecode of their species, it will be good practice to keep a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
End of file
Attached to the file is an image of Jorlka asleep in his pod, with a small label placed on him denoting him as ‘Subject_001’.
Well, this would be the file on Jorlka. Nothing major here, other than stating WHY the Farsul kept him on ice. I can show him this when he gets back, I guess?
This really didn’t feel that important when compared to what was coming. I opened the image file first out of curiosity.
It showed a cryopod that looked identical to the one that Jorlka arrived in, with the glass frosted over. The frost on the glass made it difficult for details of the occupant within to be seen. I could see the outline of a white Venlil, and the contours of a snout were visible through the opaque lid.
This image wasn’t that much help, but maybe Jorlka will recognize them?
I clicked on the data file after I gave up on trying to extract more detail from the image.
Subject_002
Species: Venlil
Sex: Female
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first subject of the efforts to tame the Venlil populus. The genecode was successfully altered in the embryo within her womb. The subject gave birth to the first corrected Venlil. The subject was placed back into stasis shortly after. As her own genecode is still pure, she will be kept as a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
Archivist note: Thank you. You were a delight to have, and we apologize for the less than amicable ending to our relationship. We hope you will one day forgive us.
End of file
Oh, dear god, what the fuck did they put her through!?
I was not given any time to process this information: there was a click at the front of the room. The door had closed had Jorlka was standing there. His face was lined with tear stains, and his eyes were shot.
“R-Rebecca… It is done.” His voice was cracked. His entire body shook with distress.
I rose from my desk and quietly made my way to him. Without a word said I wrapped my arms around him, and he started to weep into my shoulder. Tears flowed fresh from his eyes and stained into my blouse. His armed reached up, shaking the entire time, and gripped the lose fabric above my hips.
We stayed there in silence. He said something. It was barely a whisper. It was barely audible.
“Why does she have her name?” His paws gripped harder on my shirt. His claws pierced through the fabric with a tearing noise. “Why does she have her eyes?”
I gently patted him on the back and did what I could to soothe him, with a gentle shush. He sank deeper into my embrace. I didn’t understand what he was asking, or who he was referencing, but that wasn’t my concern right now.
I need to help him get his mind off what he just went through.
“Jorlka, you did something really great for your people, nothing to be ashamed of.” I gently guided the two of us back towards the couch in my office and sat us down, giving him more physical reassurance. “And I, as well as Freya, will do whatever we can to help you.”
His state started to calm down as he kept his arms tightly bound to my body. “I-I know…”
“If it’ll help you get your mind off it, I have what I think will be good news for you.”
He slowly pulled away from me and reached for some of the tissues on the coffee table. I gave him a moment to blow his nose and wipe the tears away. “G-Good news? What kind?”
“I just got a message from the humans that are managing the efforts to sort the Archive information. They found some new information on you, as well as something that will really shock you, cause it absolutely just shocked me.” I placed my hand on his should and rubbed it lightly, waiting for his response.
“And what would that information be? That those bastards killed more of my people?” His ears folded back frustrated as he let out some cynicism. I don’t blame him; it is information about the Archives. Everything related to that damn place has been absolute shit for him.
“No, they found another Venlil in stasis, and she’s unmodified like you.”
“WHAT!?” His ears shot up in alarm as this clearly flabbergasted him harder than it did to me. “REALLY!? WHO!?” His paws landed on my shoulders again as he took hold of me, enraptured by what I just said.
I couldn’t help but to laugh at the sudden change, it really brought some refreshing levity that I felt was much-needed. “Easy there, big guy! I can show you the files on my computer. Come on.”
He shot up onto his paws and bolted by my PC before I could stand up properly myself, before coming to a stop, realizing that he didn’t know how to use the device. He turned back to me slightly embarrassed at how he acted and making an effort to not seem impatient. I gave him an understanding smile as I walked around him and sat in my chair.
Then, with a few taps on my keyboard I opened the message again and resized the window so that it was all seen on the screen, before turning it to the Skalgan.
He stood in silence reading the messages and the files, before his eyes fell onto the image of the opaque white Venlil in the pod. Then the only word that left his mouth was the thing that shocked me the most out of all of this, more than everything that email contained.
“… Freya.”
submitted by SoloWing1 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
This is going to be a side project that will get slowly updated, if ever. It's a fun idea I have been mulling over for a few months now, but don't see myself fully committing to it in the future. It's not going to be the main story I am working on, nor will it ever be referenced in other chapters unless I explicitly say so in the author's notes.
This is an alternative timeline for The Skalgan, and this will begin in the middle of Chapter 20. As such, the first half of this chapter will be identical to the first half of that chapter.
Enjoy.
Date [Standardized human time]: February 3, 2137
I quickly tightened my grip around Jorlka’s paw to reassure him. His breathing had stopped, and his tail movements became a bit erratic.
“If you are NOT okay with this, then it’s fine. We would never want you to feel pressured into something you are not comfortable with doing. Nobody will be upset with you.”
I do not fucking care how much Havingsway bitches at me. I will protect Jorlka.
“I-I-I… I mean… How would…” His eyes were darting around, examining my face all over, like his was trying to decipher information that wasn’t there.
“Jorlka, breath. Please.” I let the hand on top of his paw go and reached to his back to lightly pat it. His eyes shut tight at this and he did as I asked, letting in a long breath and holding it. For bit longer than felt comfortable. “… Okay, now exhale.”
He released the air with a loud pant.
“Do… Do you want to… Here?” His face was still maintaining that bright orange glow all over, from the tips of his ears to his snout. I would be swooning over this adorable vestige if I didn’t know that the person in front of me was incredibly stressed.
“No, not here. We’ve got a room set aside for you. Private. Nobody will be there with you.”
“N-No… Nobody?” He started to calm down and his expression and look in his eyes switched to one of puzzlement. “Then… How would you…” He paused as he struggled to find the words. “I can’t… Not without help?”
“What do you…” I returned his puzzled look with one in kind, then focused on the paw I was holding.
Claws. He can’t… Male Venlil don’t… OH MY GOD. I am fucking pissed at myself for never even considering that before. He thought that I was going to… OH MY GOD!
I looked back at him, right in the eye. “Th-that’s not a problem! They’ve got special tools and materials in the room so that you can do it without help! And if there’s anything you need, I’m certain the staff would happily help you get it.”
We already know there are enough Venlil who would jump at the chance. Hell, Havingsway is desperate enough that he may both figuratively and literally bend over for this… Fuck, I would even call Freya down if you asked.
“I… I see.” He had finally calmed down enough to start thinking properly again. “And… This is needed to fix my people?”
“It’s not absolutely needed. Our scientists, Human and Venlil, are more than capable of undoing the damage that the federation caused… But your samples would expedite the work by… God, probably years.” I dug my fingers into the wool on his back as I comforted him. My god, his wool was even softer and smoother than Freya’s was, and I love running my fingers through hers.
“I see…” Jorlka repeated himself, and closed his eyes, becoming lost in thought. We sat in silence for several moments, and I continued to gently caress his paw in one hand and embraced his back with the other. He could take all the time he needed; I was no rush.
“… V-very well. I… I’ll do it.” His eyes opened again and looked at mine again.
“Are you certain? It’s perfectly okay if you don’t. I promise yo-“
His ears and tail lashed with irritation. “Please, just stop before I do actually change my mind.” His voice cracked slightly. His performance wasn’t as convincing as he had hoped, but it will have to do.
“… Alright. Come, I’ll take you down.” I helped him to his feet and lowered the hand to the center of his spine. We made our way out of the office and down the hall without any words. His ears were still twitching erratically from time to time, clearly indicating that his thoughts on this were mixed.
There really wasn’t much else I could say or do to alleviate his stress. If he’s found the confidence to go through with this, then we’ll capitalize on it. We got down to the furthest part of the wing, and there stood two individuals in white lab coats. A male human and a female Venlil: Dr. Havingsway and Bilvi.
The two of them introduced themselves and offered to take Jorlka into the room behind them.
I turned Jorlka to me one more time, away from the pair. “Okay, Jorlka. Are you sure now? There is no judgement or shame if you have second thoughts.”
Havingsway stared daggers at me as I said these words. I glared back quickly, with a look that said ’I will find a baseball bat’. I swear to fucking god, I might actually turn violent if I get wind that these two pressured him. The message was received as he averted his eyes from me with a brief flash of fear.
“I’m… I’m fine. I need to do this.” I pulled him into a hug, giving him a reassuring embrace, and whispered into his ear.
“My office is just back down the hall. Come back right away, okay? I’ll be there for you, even if you back out.”
His breathing hitched, and he softly replied back. “… Thank you.”
I released and let the pair of doctors take him through the door. I watched as it closed behind him, then turned back to my office.
[Time advancement: 40 minutes]
He should have been back by now… I think. How long do male Venlil...
I shook my head to rid myself of that thought. I actually didn’t want to know. I turned my head to look at my water kettle which had finished boiling. I emptied a packet of instant coffee into a mug and poured the water in after it.
There was a ding from my computer, indicating that I just got an email. Thank goodness, I’d been going a bit stir crazy. Jorlka is scheduled to be my entire day today because of how important he is, so I haven’t had much to do but worry about him.
I poured in a packet of sugar, and a little cup of real cream that I swiped from the special cafeteria–I’ve never liked the non-dairy stuff–and stirred the mug with a plastic spoon as I returned to my desk to check the email.
Sitting at my desk, I set the mug aside and opened my mailbox, to find that I had received a new message from the team responsible for handling information from the Archives. They were the ones responsible for sorting and getting back to each of the different alien societies that were negatively impacted by the actions of the Federation. They were also the ones that had found Jorlka’s cryopod.
This is unusual. I figured I was done talking with them now that Jorlka was safely brought back to his home. I opened the email.
[ERROR. ERROR. ANAMOLY DETECTED IN TRANSCRIPTION.]
[RESUME PLAYBACK? Y/N]
[Y]
[RESUMING PLAYBACK]
Dear Dr. Taylor:
We have recently come across a new discovery in the Archives: Additional files pertaining to the Venlil that was originally found within, as well as a shocking new revelation.
He was not the only one. We have found a second pod that was buried away in the furthest depths, forgotten by the archivists themselves. We scoured all records pertaining to the Venlil and only found a single file that references this Venlil.
Attached to this email is an image we have taken of the cryopod and its occupant, as well as the relevant files. We believe this Venlil has ties to the one that you have already been working with, so we will be sending this pod to you for you to awaken.
The new Venlil will arrive within 5 days.
The UN Archive recovery team
Oh, holy shit! Jorlka isn’t alone anymore?! I hastily opened the first file. It was a record directly from the Archive, recorded by an unnamed Farsul scientist. It was recorded in their language, but the translator in the software quickly turned the text to plain English for me.
Subject_001
Species: Venlil
Sex: Male
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first Venlil we have abducted as we begin our efforts to indoctrinate the planet of Skalga Venlil Prime. We have elected to keep this subject in stasis, and to keep their physiology untouched. If and when we go about altering the genecode of their species, it will be good practice to keep a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
End of file
Attached to the file is an image of Jorlka asleep in his pod, with a small label placed on him denoting him as ‘Subject_001’.
Well, this would be the file on Jorlka. Nothing major here, other than stating WHY the Farsul kept him on ice. I can show him this when he gets back, I guess?
This really didn’t feel that important when compared to what was coming. I opened the image file first out of curiosity.
It showed a cryopod that looked identical to the one that Jorlka arrived in, with the glass frosted over. The frost on the glass made it difficult for details of the occupant within to be seen. I could see the outline of a white Venlil, and the contours of a snout were visible through the opaque lid.
This image wasn’t that much help, but maybe Jorlka will recognize them?
I clicked on the data file after I gave up on trying to extract more detail from the image.
Subject_002
Species: Venlil
Sex: Female
Status: Stasis
Archivist note: The first subject of the efforts to tame the Venlil populus. The genecode was successfully altered in the embryo within her womb. The subject gave birth to the first corrected Venlil. The subject was placed back into stasis shortly after. As her own genecode is still pure, she will be kept as a pure sample in case of unforeseen complications.
Archivist note: Thank you. You were a delight to have, and we apologize for the less than amicable ending to our relationship. We hope you will one day forgive us.
End of file
Oh, dear god, what the fuck did they put her through!?
I was not given any time to process this information: there was a click at the front of the room. The door had closed had Jorlka was standing there. His face was lined with tear stains, and his eyes were shot.
“R-Rebecca… It is done.” His voice was cracked. His entire body shook with distress.
I rose from my desk and quietly made my way to him. Without a word said I wrapped my arms around him, and he started to weep into my shoulder. Tears flowed fresh from his eyes and stained into my blouse. His armed reached up, shaking the entire time, and gripped the lose fabric above my hips.
We stayed there in silence. He said something. It was barely a whisper. It was barely audible.
“Why does she have her name?” His paws gripped harder on my shirt. His claws pierced through the fabric with a tearing noise. “Why does she have her eyes?”
I gently patted him on the back and did what I could to soothe him, with a gentle shush. He sank deeper into my embrace. I didn’t understand what he was asking, or who he was referencing, but that wasn’t my concern right now.
I need to help him get his mind off what he just went through.
“Jorlka, you did something really great for your people, nothing to be ashamed of.” I gently guided the two of us back towards the couch in my office and sat us down, giving him more physical reassurance. “And I, as well as Freya, will do whatever we can to help you.”
His state started to calm down as he kept his arms tightly bound to my body. “I-I know…”
“If it’ll help you get your mind off it, I have what I think will be good news for you.”
He slowly pulled away from me and reached for some of the tissues on the coffee table. I gave him a moment to blow his nose and wipe the tears away. “G-Good news? What kind?”
“I just got a message from the humans that are managing the efforts to sort the Archive information. They found some new information on you, as well as something that will really shock you, cause it absolutely just shocked me.” I placed my hand on his should and rubbed it lightly, waiting for his response.
“And what would that information be? That those bastards killed more of my people?” His ears folded back frustrated as he let out some cynicism. I don’t blame him; it is information about the Archives. Everything related to that damn place has been absolute shit for him.
“No, they found another Venlil in stasis, and she’s unmodified like you.”
“WHAT!?” His ears shot up in alarm as this clearly flabbergasted him harder than it did to me. “REALLY!? WHO!?” His paws landed on my shoulders again as he took hold of me, enraptured by what I just said.
I couldn’t help but to laugh at the sudden change, it really brought some refreshing levity that I felt was much-needed. “Easy there, big guy! I can show you the files on my computer. Come on.”
He shot up onto his paws and bolted by my PC before I could stand up properly myself, before coming to a stop, realizing that he didn’t know how to use the device. He turned back to me slightly embarrassed at how he acted and making an effort to not seem impatient. I gave him an understanding smile as I walked around him and sat in my chair.
Then, with a few taps on my keyboard I opened the message again and resized the window so that it was all seen on the screen, before turning it to the Skalgan.
He stood in silence reading the messages and the files, before his eyes fell onto the image of the opaque white Venlil in the pod. Then the only word that left his mouth was the thing that shocked me the most out of all of this, more than everything that email contained.
“… Freya.”
2024.05.21 01:31 Extension_Cricket_74 Short Story: A Machine that sings the End (Petra/Trinket)
The Lesser Engine seemed to whimper, just before its animalistic head was crushed under the heavy heel of the Logos Armor. Petra was looking around, her armor covered in hellish grime, pieces of fiery cables, her hammerhead scraped in some places by the metal chitin of the warpforged abominations. A swing of her weapon decapitated a screaming techpriest, and she could see her sons advance behind her, focusing their fires onto the creatures that hadn’t come into her range.
She raised her arm and the bolter array built onto it sang four times, each bolt hitting and penetrating into the bronze hull of a monster. A movement in the side of her view immediately made her turn, and Petra placed herself right behind the Automata that was raising its shield to parry the volley of ammunition that a vomiting amalgamation of tin and steel was spewing out. The machine painted in the colors of the legion marched towards it, shield still forward as it was raising its hammer. Another Domitar joined in, and they started hammering down the bear, striking at the places that Petra indicated them to with her Logos.
Not even leaving them a moment of respite, a shriek echoed through the halls of the corrupted forgeworld, announcing the arrival of a new transformed machine, this time using the shape of a massive scorpion of brass, painted in red - probably actual blood. A True Daemon Engine.
“Stay behind”, Petra ordered her own troops. “Only the Iron Circle will engage with me. Provide cover fire”. Immediately her soldiers reorganized themselves, walking slightly back while she moved towards the warped machine. It was big, but not so much more than some beasts she had taken down during the Great Crusade.
The Logos Bolt Array roared in rapid succession, spitting explosive shells that burst on the thing’s pincer shell it was protecting itself with. The cannon on its tail aimed at the little group approaching, and fired in response. The bullets managed to pierced the shield of one of the Automata, bringing it to the ground in skittering motions as the Primarch ran to the machine.
The shell of the left pincer bent under the shock of her hammer, but could see the interior mechanisms and integrity were still completely fine. As the monster hissed, she growled and climbed onto it, before it could move its appendix. Her array fired again, aiming at the creature’s low head, and it was assailed by the other Automata. Alas, the legion’s machines could do little when even their Primarch’s strength was only sufficient to dent its exterior, their hammers clanging with sound but no damage. The Engine shrieked and spun on its feet, sweeping the footing of the Domitars with its armored tail, almost shaking Petra off of its great body.
The Breaker of Stone jumped, landing her hammer onto the machine’s head, keeping its optics away from herself. The Automata had started to stand up, some of them already trying again to impair the Daemon Engine. The Scorpion managed to snatch the shield arm of one of the Domitars into its pincers, immediately starting to grind it, then using its second arm to crush its body, neutralizing it into a cloud of sparks and noises of bent iron.
A volley of missiles exploded onto its body, making it stumble a step or two. Petra’s Tyrant Siege Terminator squad had established a perimeter around them, alongside three Devastation squads of Space Marines armed to the teeth. The Lady of Iron used the opportunity, clasping her two hands around her hammer, and smashed the face of it onto the mechanical head, cracking the glass of its baleful eye.
Letting one hand on her weapon go, she shoved her fist into the eye, fully shattering it and grasping at cables, opened fire eight times, before pulling the sparkling fiber out. The creature’s feet skittered and scraped onto the ground, flailing as well as it could with its weakening strength under the hands of the Primarch and the shields of the Automata pressing against its body.
Her soldiers approached slowly, step by step and always keeping their visors onto the fallen beast. It stopped moving. Petra allowed herself a breath, before turning to her sons. The Terminator and the Devastation squads were meticulously reloading their weapons, while her tactical squads surveyed the corridors they arrived through, one of them moving further in the dark halls of the Forge World.
When her Marines were ready, she nodded a signal to her soldiers, and they moved forward. Not even five steps were made when she turned on her heels, hearing a sound from behind her.
[The. Beast. Sings].
Three words that echoed into the large, empty hall. Her blood curled hearing it. This wasn’t normal speech. She had mechanically translated it, only understanding what the means of transmission was after hearing the full sentence.
[The. Beast. Sings].
Scrap-code.The Chaos speech reserved for the machines. An odious parody of the already-nonsensical Lingua Technis in usage within the Cult of Mars. And the carcass was speaking it. She activated the Logos’ system used to communicate orders to the Automata accompanying them.
“Killswitch protocol, immediate deactivation”. She commanded, not willing to even let a chance at her Automatas being corrupted. The Iron Warriors moved to surround the legion’s Iron Circle, carefully laying them down and locking their joints.
[The Beast sings]. It was continuously psalmoding, like a broken disc, accelerating. [The Beast sings The Beast sings The Beast sings The Beast sings]- until she put her hands on its neck, her fingers slowly bending the metal, and she pulled at it until the head was separated from the neck in a horrible noise of brass. Petra switched her comms to contact the scouting unit sent forward.
“Watch out for any signal of chaotic machines, warn us at any movement”. She turned to the corridors that had been used by some of the Techpriests that had ambushed them, eyeing the corpses with disgust.
They had all been chanting the same fucking thing. The Beast sings. What even was the beast? She had first encountered this name on another forge world, where some of her Warriors had been hunted by a strange Warp Machine. It had disappeared moments before she arrived on site herself, and she had stored it away in her memories, until it resurfaced some time later on another planet, another corrupted cult dedicated to the Dark Mechanicum. And another time, it had fled an hour before she had reached the deployment zone.
At first, the writings had been about “The Beast wakes”. Then, “The Beast writhes”. “The Beast forges”, all in Scrap-code, again and again. Until they came here, to the Forge Worlds of the moons of Cercantyle, themselves orbiting around a planet that had fallen to the corruption and whispers of the Warp.
Vibrations. Noises. Explosions.
She turned her head toward the sound, raising one of her Bolt array in overwatch, but didn’t see anything. She didn’t see anything other than her Marines, prudently observing the source of the noise.
“Squad Iota, what is your status?”
No answer came back. She motioned to her Terminators, who placed themselves forward and raised their weapons.
“Squad Iota, respond”. Her answer was the same as for her first question. “We probably lost them. Squad Alpha and Beta, watch over the corridor. Squad Gamma to Epsilon, survey the other entries. I don’t want any surprises”.
She accessed a cogitator, trying to see if she could garner any information from the eight-point covered machine, growling when she saw all was written in Scrap-code too. Fucking lunatics, even more annoying the the “normal” Mechanicum cultists.
Large arrivals of metal, used for weaponry and vehicle propulsors. Well, alongside daemons that were used by the warped tech priests to inhabit those machines. Copious amounts of fuel, menial slaves and engineers had been brought here. She felt a chill creep up her spine. Petra raised her eyes from the cogitator, definitely weirded out. Because it was a familiar feeling. But not the same. Unnatural.
Again, vibrations, noises, explosions. This time so much closer, almost detonating where her squads Alpha and Beta were standing. “Form up!”, “Ambush!” She could hear her soldiers shout, spreading out to avoid cluster explosions, and moving into covers behind ruined machines and skull-decorated wall fragments. The Tyrant Siege squad was the first line, having survived the blast with little to no injuries thanks to the more robust Cataphractii armors.
Her helmet’s visors didn’t show her any movement coming from the corridors. Petra ran diagnostics seeing the shapes of the explosions on the ground, approaching her troops. The screens showed her trajectory probabilities, drawing predictions and attempting to locate the enemy’s position. She raised her eyes, just before one of squad Delta’s marine shouted “Contact! Above!”
There it was. A massive construct of plasteel, ceramite, and armaplas, exiting from a higher-level hallway, reactors spewing out warp-fire.
It was pristine.
Unlike the Daemon Engines and chaos machines she had destroyed and taken apart, it showed no decorations in honor to the Chaos Gods, no brass or gold trims organized in spikes and curves. No, this one was slick, almost T’au like in appearance, but with definitive elements of Imperial structure. The silver metal of its hull was reflecting lights.
A humanoid body about twice her size made up the centerpiece of it, a large construct latched onto its back, and a large ring circled around the main body. Multiple cannons on the back, three-gatling guns onto each arm, and Petra could even see it was shielded by technology akin to Iron Halos. A weapon of war that saw no surrender, no end to its decimation. The blood-red shining eyes fixated solely upon her.
The Beast was hovering above them, imitating what Space Marines had been called, and Angel of Death. And the Beast sang.
It opened fire on her troops and her, six gatling guns rotating and ejecting shells by the hundreds in a few seconds, and five of her sons fell before they could put their shields in a carapace to protect themselves from the projectiles. Her Terminators responded in the same way, hardly bothered by the bullets raining down on them and shouldering Combi-Bolter, the deafening noise of their weapons adding to the cacophony that the Beast was already composing.
It was fast. When her Tyrant Siege squad added their missiles to the exchange, it seemed to reave through the air as a broadsword, moving out of the way of the projectiles, never ceasing to shoot, and worse, beginning to circle around the less protected Tactical Marines, pinning them down, its traits piercing through the gray ceramite, again and again. Petra’s Bolt Arrays were shooting non-stop, her Logos calculating and predicting the movements of the flying machine, but her munitions were crushed against the Force-Field deployed around it.
“Get to cover! Use the corridors to hide yourself!” Petra ordered her troops, placing herself away from the eyes of the machine while using the Logos’ systems to reboot the Automata. Even though they were mostly equipped for close quarter combat, she had conceived the Olympia Bolt Cannon to arm them in addition to their bodyguard abilities she now used as first battle ranks, shielding her soldiers.
Thanks to her Trinket, always one to bring any advantage to their side in negotiations, she had had far enough to experiment multiple formations, and was satisfied with the weaponry they were now using - if the Iron Warriors were able to bring the Beast to the ground, they would fall upon it with their Graviton mauls.
For now, she unlocked the joints, and restarted their systems, the chest light flaring up green. One of the red eyes of the flying construct lowered to look at them, and immediately after, directed one of his arms in the same direction, the three gatlings starting to spin again, landing some hits that scratched their surfaces, resulting in one of the Domitar-Ferrum having a chestplate opened, and a pauldron bent under the heavy fire before it could raise its shield.
Did it have an unlimited amount of ammunition? Urgh, it had probably far enough to wage battle against them for hours on end, and they were currently engaged in a Forge-world. It could fly away any moment, and find some station to re-arm itself.
Petra opened her comms, directing her soldiers directly to always harass the Beast, forming into firing patterns as three squads gained altitude in the maze that was the architecture of the Forge-World. She counted. Eleven soldiers had been lost. Five were also injured - though not gravely enough that they had to stop fighting. A glance at the damaged automata let her know that it could still be pushed to fight, and could endure more damage. She opened cover fire to move herself, approaching her soldiers so that she would not be stuck in the middle of an open-space.
“Phase Four, Hammer Protocol”, she ordered on the Logos, and her soldiers moved as well as they could to accomplish their missions. Every single trigger belonging to a soldier under her command was pulled into a deafening noise that echoed into the large hall, lights of tracer fire producing a continued source of radiance that she wouldn’t even need the night vision provided by her helmet.
Even though the Conversion field around the Beast was sparkling, progressively advancing to the point where it would need to be deactivated to not overload, it was reaching it far too slowly for Petra’s taste. Frustration was building up faster in her.
Some movement in the construct made her change her focus, as she tried to identify why it was moving the way it did. The gatling guns on its right arm had folded back into the back construct part, and now it was a long, thin and rectangular armament that was attached to its arm. And aimed at her. A glance at it indicated her it was warped T’au technology, modified to be usable alongside those demonic systems. She felt a cold sweat immediately.
Mass launcher. Heavy Rail Cannon.
Petra stepped away in a blink, unsure even her armor would be perfectly safe from a weapon like that, a single instant later the place she had been in was shot at.
Light. Noise.
Silence.
A Warrior behind her had been less lucky, its upper body part simply erased by the projectile’s impact, which didn’t even explode.
It had penetrated into the metallic ground, dug deep until the meager warning lights of the hall couldn’t shed shine onto it. The body of her Marine fell onto the ground, blood finally flowing out as though it had briefly not realized it had been killed.
She processed it into the back of her mind, running to find some cover that would hide her from the weapon. It seemed however that the Daemon Engine didn’t have in mind to continue using its Rail Cannon, and started to rise, floating higher. She had another bad feeling. And she was rarely wrong on such occasions. It put away the arms that were latched onto its arms, and extended its hands forward.
Something started to roll on the horizontal ring, and exited the top of the back construct in the same way, stopping halfway, above the Beast’s head. Multiple dots of red upon light-gray surface, and Petra already knew it was multiple missile pod systems.
“Find cover!” she heard one of her soldiers scream out. Petra ordered the Domitars to defend the Marines that weren’t equipped with Boarding Shields like her Breacher Squads. Noises like pings emitted by the Machine started to rise, accelerating in tempo and volume.
It brought its hands downwards, a conductor's movement. The orchestra, a symphony of technological-brought death, began.
The Beast sings.
The sounds of their thrusters weren’t the one she was used to hearing from missiles in flight, no, it was far worse. Whispers, murmurs, talks, shouts, wails, screeches, howling. The noises each projectile was making were separate voices of pain and suffering, or shrieks of rage and anger.
A choir that the Beast was directing, the missiles following his hands, cues and downbeats, the screaming and bellows harmonizing to form a music that would be beautiful, if it weren’t so haunting, dangerous and in such an inopportune moment.
Petra locked her armor completely, focusing on defending against the missiles that were going for her. She recognized it. She crouched, protecting her head with her arms, and the noises of all missiles exploding at the same time, a fortississimo overbearing on her ears, and the shaking was the same as being just beside a Titan Ordnance weapon firing.
The instant she was safe, running diagnostic operations on the Logos integrity, she forced herself to move despite the shock she was feeling. Not just physical. The music It had imitated before the missiles exploded. She knew it perfectly. From its start, to the Da Capo, to its end and crescendo, with every single note in between.
Because she knew the composer. Because she was beside him when he composed. Because HE composed FOR HER. Because it was Trinket’s piece. A horrible, abominable parody, spitting on every musical pattern and expression he spent days and nights writing while she was drawing architectural blueprints and building dioramas of the multiple Olympia’s cities they oversaw reconstruction of.
The shared name of Elysia, the location of their planned Forever Home, and of the hymn they had decided on.
And nothing was making her more mad than the twisted parody of her favorite music, turned into something so… She didn’t even find the words for the utter disgust she was going through. Nor for her anger.
“Cover me! Switch back to Phase three, Protocol Nemea!”
Petra exited the smoke left by the detonation after shouting her order, and went straight for the broken corpse of the Brass Scorpion, teeth clenched. Hearing the weapons of her sons firing behind her, she swore she would destroy that thing, and free Trinket from its grasp. She had not a single doubt he was in it. Being the core of the Beast. She caught the tail of the machine monster, and dragged it to turn the Demolisher cannon that formed its parody of a mouth in the direction of Trinket’s prison.
Using the commanding functions of the Logos, she connected to the machine’s body, bluntly deleting every piece of Scrap-Code that she could, as the chaotic construct was off for now, and when she was done, she booted the firing systems up.
She was hearing the roaring of the Beast’s gatling guns, firing ceaselessly to kill her sons, the crackling noise of Boarding Shields and Karceri Shields as the hailing rain of bullets was caught against their power fields.
Petra’s will, translated into cybernetics commands, made the legs of the Scorpion skitter and rise, angling its maw at the flier. After a few seconds loading, and preparing the weapon, the Scorpion opened fire, crossing the distance between source and target in barely a breath. The noise of the detonation echoed the same as the missiles the Beast had previously fired in its orchestral volleys.
The flying machine trembled, the iron halo’s field crackling, turning on and off until it finally shut down.
“Now!” Petra shouted to her Warriors. “Engage Phase five, suppressing fire!” Exiting their covers, most of her Marines aimed and opened fire at the Engine. She aimed at its reactors when it showed its back to her, shooting with all eight of her shrapnel bolt array. As it lowered slightly, she calculated her odds. Satisfied, she started running toward it, accelerating to some of the fastest speeds she had reached on her feet, motivation and desperation both pumping fire into her veins of iron.
Using the ruined machinery that strewed the ground, she gained elevation, and fully jumped to catch on the ring surrounding the core construct. Its three eyes looked at her, and Petra could swear she could see them burning in hatred. It tried to aim its gatling at her, but she moved faster, opening fire without restraint straight at its arm, a barrage of bolts that started to tear through the weaknesses in the metal that she saw.
Unable to fly correctly anymore, the Beast lowered even more, to the point where the Automata, coming running at it, could extend their hammers to latch on the ring and body, pinning it down. Petra let go of the outer ring, and walked straight toward the core unit, ignoring the warnings that one of her sergeants was directing to her.
She couldn’t hear anything over a ringing in her ears suspiciously resembling the melody of Elysia.
She finally reached it, extending her hand toward its head, and ripped it off without a care, watching with satisfaction as the three-eyed lights faded from the optics. She tossed it aside. Under her awaiting hands was the gesticulating body of an iron maiden that jailed the person she wanted to see most.
Weaknesses.
In the frame, in the ossature, in the hull. She reached and grasped, and bent, and pulled, and tore, destroying the malignant thing bit by bit, piece by piece, seeing her soldiers in the corner of her eyes, but not registering anything other than the slowly opening torso of the machine.
Finally.
Finally.
Finally, she ripped open the cockpit, to be met with such a cherished and such a haunted sight. Her Velvet Glove. Her Trinket.
Finally.
“FeFe…” she whispered. She could feel her eyes water behind the iron skull of her helmet.
It was an abominable sight. Everything was him. Nothing was his. As the song, it was a parody of who he was.
It was his hair: white and in long locks. It wasn’t: oily, greasy and unkempt.
It was his body: olive skin and the same scars as she remembered. It wasn’t: skeletal, gaunt, emaciated and hollow. Ribs almost piercing out from under his naked dry skin.
It was his eyes, the same turquoise, the same golden decoration he had asked her to graft under the left one to mask one scar he had there. It wasn’t: there were no lights in those glassy and foggy balls, and the gold was tarnished, rusted.
His lips were parched and scarred, his eyelids scratched, and she was trembling seeing the sight.
He was missing an arm, cables and wires directly plugged into his torn flesh.
A ruined enveloppe.
A single terminal was held in his sickly thin fingers, showing characters writing on a loop. Two words. It wasn’t Scrap-Code, nor was it Lingua-Technis, nor even was it Gothic, be it low or high. No, it was their native tongue of Olympia.
Two words, repeating on a loop like a mad chant line after line.
Σκότωσέ με.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Petra slowly reached to her helmet, its hissing pops signaling the depressurization. She removed it, her braided lock falling onto her shoulder as she put it aside.
“No”.
She reached toward him, cupping his cheek in her gauntlet, as large as his head, not applying any bit of force. Her hand was trembling. She pulled his body from the machine’s carcass, carefully disconnecting the cables thanks to the Logos’ programming properties. She cradled his broken, shattered form in her arms like carrying a newborn. She could barely feel his heartbeat. Her vision of him was riddled in weaknesses that usually inhabited her vision, so, so many onto his form.
She tilted to whisper in his ear.
“I’m bringing you back home. We’ll go together. Do you remember, FeFe? To Elysia”.
She almost broke down when she saw a sign of recognition on his part when he heard that name. Just slightly, almost imperceptible, his eyes widened.
A Spark.
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She raised her arm and the bolter array built onto it sang four times, each bolt hitting and penetrating into the bronze hull of a monster. A movement in the side of her view immediately made her turn, and Petra placed herself right behind the Automata that was raising its shield to parry the volley of ammunition that a vomiting amalgamation of tin and steel was spewing out. The machine painted in the colors of the legion marched towards it, shield still forward as it was raising its hammer. Another Domitar joined in, and they started hammering down the bear, striking at the places that Petra indicated them to with her Logos.
Not even leaving them a moment of respite, a shriek echoed through the halls of the corrupted forgeworld, announcing the arrival of a new transformed machine, this time using the shape of a massive scorpion of brass, painted in red - probably actual blood. A True Daemon Engine.
“Stay behind”, Petra ordered her own troops. “Only the Iron Circle will engage with me. Provide cover fire”. Immediately her soldiers reorganized themselves, walking slightly back while she moved towards the warped machine. It was big, but not so much more than some beasts she had taken down during the Great Crusade.
The Logos Bolt Array roared in rapid succession, spitting explosive shells that burst on the thing’s pincer shell it was protecting itself with. The cannon on its tail aimed at the little group approaching, and fired in response. The bullets managed to pierced the shield of one of the Automata, bringing it to the ground in skittering motions as the Primarch ran to the machine.
The shell of the left pincer bent under the shock of her hammer, but could see the interior mechanisms and integrity were still completely fine. As the monster hissed, she growled and climbed onto it, before it could move its appendix. Her array fired again, aiming at the creature’s low head, and it was assailed by the other Automata. Alas, the legion’s machines could do little when even their Primarch’s strength was only sufficient to dent its exterior, their hammers clanging with sound but no damage. The Engine shrieked and spun on its feet, sweeping the footing of the Domitars with its armored tail, almost shaking Petra off of its great body.
The Breaker of Stone jumped, landing her hammer onto the machine’s head, keeping its optics away from herself. The Automata had started to stand up, some of them already trying again to impair the Daemon Engine. The Scorpion managed to snatch the shield arm of one of the Domitars into its pincers, immediately starting to grind it, then using its second arm to crush its body, neutralizing it into a cloud of sparks and noises of bent iron.
A volley of missiles exploded onto its body, making it stumble a step or two. Petra’s Tyrant Siege Terminator squad had established a perimeter around them, alongside three Devastation squads of Space Marines armed to the teeth. The Lady of Iron used the opportunity, clasping her two hands around her hammer, and smashed the face of it onto the mechanical head, cracking the glass of its baleful eye.
Letting one hand on her weapon go, she shoved her fist into the eye, fully shattering it and grasping at cables, opened fire eight times, before pulling the sparkling fiber out. The creature’s feet skittered and scraped onto the ground, flailing as well as it could with its weakening strength under the hands of the Primarch and the shields of the Automata pressing against its body.
Her soldiers approached slowly, step by step and always keeping their visors onto the fallen beast. It stopped moving. Petra allowed herself a breath, before turning to her sons. The Terminator and the Devastation squads were meticulously reloading their weapons, while her tactical squads surveyed the corridors they arrived through, one of them moving further in the dark halls of the Forge World.
When her Marines were ready, she nodded a signal to her soldiers, and they moved forward. Not even five steps were made when she turned on her heels, hearing a sound from behind her.
[The. Beast. Sings].
Three words that echoed into the large, empty hall. Her blood curled hearing it. This wasn’t normal speech. She had mechanically translated it, only understanding what the means of transmission was after hearing the full sentence.
[The. Beast. Sings].
Scrap-code.The Chaos speech reserved for the machines. An odious parody of the already-nonsensical Lingua Technis in usage within the Cult of Mars. And the carcass was speaking it. She activated the Logos’ system used to communicate orders to the Automata accompanying them.
“Killswitch protocol, immediate deactivation”. She commanded, not willing to even let a chance at her Automatas being corrupted. The Iron Warriors moved to surround the legion’s Iron Circle, carefully laying them down and locking their joints.
[The Beast sings]. It was continuously psalmoding, like a broken disc, accelerating. [The Beast sings The Beast sings The Beast sings The Beast sings]- until she put her hands on its neck, her fingers slowly bending the metal, and she pulled at it until the head was separated from the neck in a horrible noise of brass. Petra switched her comms to contact the scouting unit sent forward.
“Watch out for any signal of chaotic machines, warn us at any movement”. She turned to the corridors that had been used by some of the Techpriests that had ambushed them, eyeing the corpses with disgust.
They had all been chanting the same fucking thing. The Beast sings. What even was the beast? She had first encountered this name on another forge world, where some of her Warriors had been hunted by a strange Warp Machine. It had disappeared moments before she arrived on site herself, and she had stored it away in her memories, until it resurfaced some time later on another planet, another corrupted cult dedicated to the Dark Mechanicum. And another time, it had fled an hour before she had reached the deployment zone.
At first, the writings had been about “The Beast wakes”. Then, “The Beast writhes”. “The Beast forges”, all in Scrap-code, again and again. Until they came here, to the Forge Worlds of the moons of Cercantyle, themselves orbiting around a planet that had fallen to the corruption and whispers of the Warp.
Vibrations. Noises. Explosions.
She turned her head toward the sound, raising one of her Bolt array in overwatch, but didn’t see anything. She didn’t see anything other than her Marines, prudently observing the source of the noise.
“Squad Iota, what is your status?”
No answer came back. She motioned to her Terminators, who placed themselves forward and raised their weapons.
“Squad Iota, respond”. Her answer was the same as for her first question. “We probably lost them. Squad Alpha and Beta, watch over the corridor. Squad Gamma to Epsilon, survey the other entries. I don’t want any surprises”.
She accessed a cogitator, trying to see if she could garner any information from the eight-point covered machine, growling when she saw all was written in Scrap-code too. Fucking lunatics, even more annoying the the “normal” Mechanicum cultists.
Large arrivals of metal, used for weaponry and vehicle propulsors. Well, alongside daemons that were used by the warped tech priests to inhabit those machines. Copious amounts of fuel, menial slaves and engineers had been brought here. She felt a chill creep up her spine. Petra raised her eyes from the cogitator, definitely weirded out. Because it was a familiar feeling. But not the same. Unnatural.
Again, vibrations, noises, explosions. This time so much closer, almost detonating where her squads Alpha and Beta were standing. “Form up!”, “Ambush!” She could hear her soldiers shout, spreading out to avoid cluster explosions, and moving into covers behind ruined machines and skull-decorated wall fragments. The Tyrant Siege squad was the first line, having survived the blast with little to no injuries thanks to the more robust Cataphractii armors.
Her helmet’s visors didn’t show her any movement coming from the corridors. Petra ran diagnostics seeing the shapes of the explosions on the ground, approaching her troops. The screens showed her trajectory probabilities, drawing predictions and attempting to locate the enemy’s position. She raised her eyes, just before one of squad Delta’s marine shouted “Contact! Above!”
There it was. A massive construct of plasteel, ceramite, and armaplas, exiting from a higher-level hallway, reactors spewing out warp-fire.
It was pristine.
Unlike the Daemon Engines and chaos machines she had destroyed and taken apart, it showed no decorations in honor to the Chaos Gods, no brass or gold trims organized in spikes and curves. No, this one was slick, almost T’au like in appearance, but with definitive elements of Imperial structure. The silver metal of its hull was reflecting lights.
A humanoid body about twice her size made up the centerpiece of it, a large construct latched onto its back, and a large ring circled around the main body. Multiple cannons on the back, three-gatling guns onto each arm, and Petra could even see it was shielded by technology akin to Iron Halos. A weapon of war that saw no surrender, no end to its decimation. The blood-red shining eyes fixated solely upon her.
The Beast was hovering above them, imitating what Space Marines had been called, and Angel of Death. And the Beast sang.
It opened fire on her troops and her, six gatling guns rotating and ejecting shells by the hundreds in a few seconds, and five of her sons fell before they could put their shields in a carapace to protect themselves from the projectiles. Her Terminators responded in the same way, hardly bothered by the bullets raining down on them and shouldering Combi-Bolter, the deafening noise of their weapons adding to the cacophony that the Beast was already composing.
It was fast. When her Tyrant Siege squad added their missiles to the exchange, it seemed to reave through the air as a broadsword, moving out of the way of the projectiles, never ceasing to shoot, and worse, beginning to circle around the less protected Tactical Marines, pinning them down, its traits piercing through the gray ceramite, again and again. Petra’s Bolt Arrays were shooting non-stop, her Logos calculating and predicting the movements of the flying machine, but her munitions were crushed against the Force-Field deployed around it.
“Get to cover! Use the corridors to hide yourself!” Petra ordered her troops, placing herself away from the eyes of the machine while using the Logos’ systems to reboot the Automata. Even though they were mostly equipped for close quarter combat, she had conceived the Olympia Bolt Cannon to arm them in addition to their bodyguard abilities she now used as first battle ranks, shielding her soldiers.
Thanks to her Trinket, always one to bring any advantage to their side in negotiations, she had had far enough to experiment multiple formations, and was satisfied with the weaponry they were now using - if the Iron Warriors were able to bring the Beast to the ground, they would fall upon it with their Graviton mauls.
For now, she unlocked the joints, and restarted their systems, the chest light flaring up green. One of the red eyes of the flying construct lowered to look at them, and immediately after, directed one of his arms in the same direction, the three gatlings starting to spin again, landing some hits that scratched their surfaces, resulting in one of the Domitar-Ferrum having a chestplate opened, and a pauldron bent under the heavy fire before it could raise its shield.
Did it have an unlimited amount of ammunition? Urgh, it had probably far enough to wage battle against them for hours on end, and they were currently engaged in a Forge-world. It could fly away any moment, and find some station to re-arm itself.
Petra opened her comms, directing her soldiers directly to always harass the Beast, forming into firing patterns as three squads gained altitude in the maze that was the architecture of the Forge-World. She counted. Eleven soldiers had been lost. Five were also injured - though not gravely enough that they had to stop fighting. A glance at the damaged automata let her know that it could still be pushed to fight, and could endure more damage. She opened cover fire to move herself, approaching her soldiers so that she would not be stuck in the middle of an open-space.
“Phase Four, Hammer Protocol”, she ordered on the Logos, and her soldiers moved as well as they could to accomplish their missions. Every single trigger belonging to a soldier under her command was pulled into a deafening noise that echoed into the large hall, lights of tracer fire producing a continued source of radiance that she wouldn’t even need the night vision provided by her helmet.
Even though the Conversion field around the Beast was sparkling, progressively advancing to the point where it would need to be deactivated to not overload, it was reaching it far too slowly for Petra’s taste. Frustration was building up faster in her.
Some movement in the construct made her change her focus, as she tried to identify why it was moving the way it did. The gatling guns on its right arm had folded back into the back construct part, and now it was a long, thin and rectangular armament that was attached to its arm. And aimed at her. A glance at it indicated her it was warped T’au technology, modified to be usable alongside those demonic systems. She felt a cold sweat immediately.
Mass launcher. Heavy Rail Cannon.
Petra stepped away in a blink, unsure even her armor would be perfectly safe from a weapon like that, a single instant later the place she had been in was shot at.
Light. Noise.
Silence.
A Warrior behind her had been less lucky, its upper body part simply erased by the projectile’s impact, which didn’t even explode.
It had penetrated into the metallic ground, dug deep until the meager warning lights of the hall couldn’t shed shine onto it. The body of her Marine fell onto the ground, blood finally flowing out as though it had briefly not realized it had been killed.
She processed it into the back of her mind, running to find some cover that would hide her from the weapon. It seemed however that the Daemon Engine didn’t have in mind to continue using its Rail Cannon, and started to rise, floating higher. She had another bad feeling. And she was rarely wrong on such occasions. It put away the arms that were latched onto its arms, and extended its hands forward.
Something started to roll on the horizontal ring, and exited the top of the back construct in the same way, stopping halfway, above the Beast’s head. Multiple dots of red upon light-gray surface, and Petra already knew it was multiple missile pod systems.
“Find cover!” she heard one of her soldiers scream out. Petra ordered the Domitars to defend the Marines that weren’t equipped with Boarding Shields like her Breacher Squads. Noises like pings emitted by the Machine started to rise, accelerating in tempo and volume.
It brought its hands downwards, a conductor's movement. The orchestra, a symphony of technological-brought death, began.
The Beast sings.
The sounds of their thrusters weren’t the one she was used to hearing from missiles in flight, no, it was far worse. Whispers, murmurs, talks, shouts, wails, screeches, howling. The noises each projectile was making were separate voices of pain and suffering, or shrieks of rage and anger.
A choir that the Beast was directing, the missiles following his hands, cues and downbeats, the screaming and bellows harmonizing to form a music that would be beautiful, if it weren’t so haunting, dangerous and in such an inopportune moment.
Petra locked her armor completely, focusing on defending against the missiles that were going for her. She recognized it. She crouched, protecting her head with her arms, and the noises of all missiles exploding at the same time, a fortississimo overbearing on her ears, and the shaking was the same as being just beside a Titan Ordnance weapon firing.
The instant she was safe, running diagnostic operations on the Logos integrity, she forced herself to move despite the shock she was feeling. Not just physical. The music It had imitated before the missiles exploded. She knew it perfectly. From its start, to the Da Capo, to its end and crescendo, with every single note in between.
Because she knew the composer. Because she was beside him when he composed. Because HE composed FOR HER. Because it was Trinket’s piece. A horrible, abominable parody, spitting on every musical pattern and expression he spent days and nights writing while she was drawing architectural blueprints and building dioramas of the multiple Olympia’s cities they oversaw reconstruction of.
The shared name of Elysia, the location of their planned Forever Home, and of the hymn they had decided on.
And nothing was making her more mad than the twisted parody of her favorite music, turned into something so… She didn’t even find the words for the utter disgust she was going through. Nor for her anger.
“Cover me! Switch back to Phase three, Protocol Nemea!”
Petra exited the smoke left by the detonation after shouting her order, and went straight for the broken corpse of the Brass Scorpion, teeth clenched. Hearing the weapons of her sons firing behind her, she swore she would destroy that thing, and free Trinket from its grasp. She had not a single doubt he was in it. Being the core of the Beast. She caught the tail of the machine monster, and dragged it to turn the Demolisher cannon that formed its parody of a mouth in the direction of Trinket’s prison.
Using the commanding functions of the Logos, she connected to the machine’s body, bluntly deleting every piece of Scrap-Code that she could, as the chaotic construct was off for now, and when she was done, she booted the firing systems up.
She was hearing the roaring of the Beast’s gatling guns, firing ceaselessly to kill her sons, the crackling noise of Boarding Shields and Karceri Shields as the hailing rain of bullets was caught against their power fields.
Petra’s will, translated into cybernetics commands, made the legs of the Scorpion skitter and rise, angling its maw at the flier. After a few seconds loading, and preparing the weapon, the Scorpion opened fire, crossing the distance between source and target in barely a breath. The noise of the detonation echoed the same as the missiles the Beast had previously fired in its orchestral volleys.
The flying machine trembled, the iron halo’s field crackling, turning on and off until it finally shut down.
“Now!” Petra shouted to her Warriors. “Engage Phase five, suppressing fire!” Exiting their covers, most of her Marines aimed and opened fire at the Engine. She aimed at its reactors when it showed its back to her, shooting with all eight of her shrapnel bolt array. As it lowered slightly, she calculated her odds. Satisfied, she started running toward it, accelerating to some of the fastest speeds she had reached on her feet, motivation and desperation both pumping fire into her veins of iron.
Using the ruined machinery that strewed the ground, she gained elevation, and fully jumped to catch on the ring surrounding the core construct. Its three eyes looked at her, and Petra could swear she could see them burning in hatred. It tried to aim its gatling at her, but she moved faster, opening fire without restraint straight at its arm, a barrage of bolts that started to tear through the weaknesses in the metal that she saw.
Unable to fly correctly anymore, the Beast lowered even more, to the point where the Automata, coming running at it, could extend their hammers to latch on the ring and body, pinning it down. Petra let go of the outer ring, and walked straight toward the core unit, ignoring the warnings that one of her sergeants was directing to her.
She couldn’t hear anything over a ringing in her ears suspiciously resembling the melody of Elysia.
She finally reached it, extending her hand toward its head, and ripped it off without a care, watching with satisfaction as the three-eyed lights faded from the optics. She tossed it aside. Under her awaiting hands was the gesticulating body of an iron maiden that jailed the person she wanted to see most.
Weaknesses.
In the frame, in the ossature, in the hull. She reached and grasped, and bent, and pulled, and tore, destroying the malignant thing bit by bit, piece by piece, seeing her soldiers in the corner of her eyes, but not registering anything other than the slowly opening torso of the machine.
Finally.
Finally.
Finally, she ripped open the cockpit, to be met with such a cherished and such a haunted sight. Her Velvet Glove. Her Trinket.
Finally.
“FeFe…” she whispered. She could feel her eyes water behind the iron skull of her helmet.
It was an abominable sight. Everything was him. Nothing was his. As the song, it was a parody of who he was.
It was his hair: white and in long locks. It wasn’t: oily, greasy and unkempt.
It was his body: olive skin and the same scars as she remembered. It wasn’t: skeletal, gaunt, emaciated and hollow. Ribs almost piercing out from under his naked dry skin.
It was his eyes, the same turquoise, the same golden decoration he had asked her to graft under the left one to mask one scar he had there. It wasn’t: there were no lights in those glassy and foggy balls, and the gold was tarnished, rusted.
His lips were parched and scarred, his eyelids scratched, and she was trembling seeing the sight.
He was missing an arm, cables and wires directly plugged into his torn flesh.
A ruined enveloppe.
A single terminal was held in his sickly thin fingers, showing characters writing on a loop. Two words. It wasn’t Scrap-Code, nor was it Lingua-Technis, nor even was it Gothic, be it low or high. No, it was their native tongue of Olympia.
Two words, repeating on a loop like a mad chant line after line.
Σκότωσέ με.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Kill me.
Petra slowly reached to her helmet, its hissing pops signaling the depressurization. She removed it, her braided lock falling onto her shoulder as she put it aside.
“No”.
She reached toward him, cupping his cheek in her gauntlet, as large as his head, not applying any bit of force. Her hand was trembling. She pulled his body from the machine’s carcass, carefully disconnecting the cables thanks to the Logos’ programming properties. She cradled his broken, shattered form in her arms like carrying a newborn. She could barely feel his heartbeat. Her vision of him was riddled in weaknesses that usually inhabited her vision, so, so many onto his form.
She tilted to whisper in his ear.
“I’m bringing you back home. We’ll go together. Do you remember, FeFe? To Elysia”.
She almost broke down when she saw a sign of recognition on his part when he heard that name. Just slightly, almost imperceptible, his eyes widened.
A Spark.
2024.05.21 00:13 InverseNexarus 60+ Year Old DM does not charge his friends in Pay-to-Play campaign, insults the party for his amusement, and is probably a misogynist. Spoilers for Curse of Strahd.
 | Last Monday I posted a quick and dirty RPG horror story about a pay-to-play campaign. This will be a proper attempt at telling the whole story, from the alluring start to my bitter resignation. Spoilers ahead for the beginning portions of Curse of Strahd. Trigger Warning for bullying and mentions of self-harm. submitted by InverseNexarus to rpghorrorstories [link] [comments] Mondays and Tuesdays are my guaranteed days off, so that is when I am available to enjoy my TTRPG hobby. Typically I am involved in three or four campaigns a week as either a DM or a player. A year-long campaign I was running reached its finale in the middle of March. When that ended and the time slot opened up, I wanted to be a player for a while. So I started looking in all the usual places; Discord servers I am a part of, StartPlaying ads, LFG threads, and the Roll20 boards. I indiscriminately applied for free-to-play and pay-to-play games at 1 PM on Mondays and ultimately got invited to join a Curse of Strahd campaign. I’ve experienced good and bad games in both camps, so this story is not about bashing pay-to-play games. Being a DM requires time, effort, and availability; and I am willing to pay since free games are not typically hosted during that time slot. The DM hosting this Curse of Strahd campaign presented himself as a knowledgeable Grognard from the Gygaxian era. A retired man who ran D&D games to have fun and get a bit of spending money as a side hustle. He made promises that this campaign was going to be more than just an out-of-the-box 5th edition game. It would run the gambit of Ravenloft’s rich history taking elements from older editions and novels like ‘I Strahd: The Memoirs of a Vampire’. The game would be going from level 1 to 20, as defeating Strahd and escaping Barovia was just the beginning. He planned on the party visiting other domains of dread and dark places within the shadowfel. During a voice call interview, we spoke about table conduct, civility, respect, lines and veils, and all the things that sold me the idea he was a professional DM and cared about the integrity of his campaign. At no point did this grown-ass old man proclaim anything along the lines of, “This will be like playing D&D with two friends in a basement, and you’re the third wheel who buys our snacks”. If he had, I would not have signed up. We shall call him the Bantering DM for the rest of the story. Two weeks go by and the game fills with four players: My half-goblin moon druid named Olivia; an elf bladesinger wizard named Cayden; a purple tiefling lore bard named Eternal Cake; lastly the problem player Jormungandr the fallen-aasimar giant barbarian. We have session zero with everyone in the Discord voice channel. The Bantering DM goes over the same points from the interview and has us go around the table so that we can introduce ourselves, our characters, and the lines/veils we’d like to avoid. I don’t like witnessing instances of child abuse, Cayden does not like descriptions of spiders, Eternal Cake does not want the party to torture NPCs, and Jormungandr asks that we be patient with him as he has ADHD. I go above and beyond by making high-resolution character tokens for everyone. As we are chatting and filling out our character sheets, it is revealed that Eternal Cake and Jormungandr are longtime friends of the Bantering DM and are not paying for the sessions like Cayden and myself. Personally, I’d feel more comfortable if all the players either paid a fee or played for free, but I let it slide because everyone seemed nice at the time. https://preview.redd.it/er4ul1kgmn1d1.png?width=1129&format=png&auto=webp&s=e9a8df11e4c27d1a3f89f7fab8de05985bae6667 In session one, unfortunately, Eternal Cake was not able to join us so we had to puppet his purple tiefling. The Bantering DM uses the Creeping Mists introduction. Each of our characters was spirited to Barovia with whatever equipment we had on our person. Cayden and Jormungandr sounded mildly inconvenienced upon discovering that they were kidnapped by magical mist and then plopped into a dark forest. Meanwhile, Olivia was scared out of her mind and avoided the three strange men. She decided to climb a tree to find a road or landmarks. Survival checks were made, she discovered a road not too far away and heard the howling of wolves in the distance. Even though she did not trust these men, she motioned for them to follow her, hopefully, they’d be safe together. We were ambushed by three wolves on the road. During the surprise round, both Cayden and Eternal Cake were rendered unconscious. Pack tactics caused a critical hit on Cayden, the wolf’s bite attack damage was 13, meaning his wizard with 7 hit points was a single point away from instantly dying. Thankfully, I prepared healing spells for just such an occasion. It was at this point that I got to experience the Bantering DM and Jormungandr’s dynamic. DM: “At advantage from pack tactics, that is a 17 to hit.” Barb: “No that does not hit me.” DM: “Your token is linked to your sheet. You have 15 AC, my guy.” Barb: “What about with a shield? Ever think about that?” DM: “Even if you had a shield, that's 17, it meets it beats. But you're using a maul.” Barb: “Does Cake have silvery barbs? I demand a reroll.” DM: “Cake is unconscious.” Me: “Um, I will get him up when it is my turn. Can you drop it?” Barb: “Fine.” DM: “That is 7 piercing damage.” Barb: “7 bullshit damage! I have not even had a turn. I’m not raging so it is FULL!” Olivia played cautiously, healing the downed party members and using ranged cantrips. Jormungandr did big damage with his maul but complained and argued with the Bantering DM, extending each of his turns longer than they needed to be. Injured, but grateful to be alive, we travel down the muddy road. The party makes it to the village of Barovia. We wander the streets and eventually find the Blood of the Vine tavern. Cayden and Jormungandr do the majority of the talking, as Olivia is unsure if the villagers will be hostile or welcoming to a goblin like her. The Bantering DM laced the expositional dialog with a lot of profanity, personal attacks, and spitting on the floor. The barkeep explained that spitting was a Barovian custom, that if an evil thing is expressed one must spit quickly otherwise demons will possess the soul. The insults were primarily based on our characters' appearances. Cayden was called a knife-ear, short, girly man, hairless, and physically weak. Jormungandr was mocked for being stupid, a savage brute, and likely to get struck by lightning as he had a metal pauldron. Eternal Cake was spared as he was not at the session, though I imagine the Bantering DM had plenty to say about a purple devil man. The barkeep called Olivia an ugly greenskin, asked where the rest of her clothes were, if she was like goblins in fairytales that hide under children's beds to eat their toes, and that I may as well “get it over with as it will happen sooner or later”, implying that I should kill myself. When he said that, Olivia spat and glared at the man. Through that abuse, we learned the leader of the town recently died. His son Ismark was now in charge, but no one liked him. There was a cursed child with red hair named Ireena, taken in by the prior burgomaster. The ruler of this valley is called The Devil and he’s been sending monsters to torment the village recently. The priest of the local church had gone mad when his son died in a recent attack. Finally, there is a town further down the road called Vallaki. We rent a room and end the session with a milestone level up. After the game wrapped up, we were still in the voice call and I expressed a couple of concerns I had about the banter during combat. Saying that it made the fight drag on for longer. I also said that I could handle rude or unlikeable NPCs and that I understand Barovia is a bleak atmosphere, but I felt the barkeep overstepped into abusive language with his comments. The Bantering DM apologized, said that it was all just in character, and excused the innkeeper by saying he is scared, small-minded, and considered us a bad omen on top of recent terrible events. I chalked it up to adjusting to a new group. This will be the only time that the Bantering DM will apologize or engage with my concerns and criticisms. After this, he would ignore what I had to say. For session two Eternal Cake is unable to play again. The party woke up and left the inn. Immediately we are confronted by Ismark, he puffs himself up and banishes us from the town. Yelling for us to get out, that we were harming his people, we were unwelcome, and no merchant was legally allowed to trade with us. Then he stomped off unwilling to talk about whether or not we could help his people. Now, I’ve run Curse of Strahd before, I have meta-knowledge about things we can do in this village. There is content to explore, stuff to do, and ways to better the village. Some of which was hinted at by the barkeep last session. However, in character, Olivia was told to kill herself and a few hours later got banished. She does not belong here, she is not wanted, so the true neutral thing to do is leave. But in-character and out-of-character are very different beasts because I know that leaving would mean abandoning the story's most pivotal character Ireena. Jormungandr and Cayden both agree, well screw this town if everyone is going to be a jerk. I’m panicking, internally screaming, trying to come up with an in-character reason to force us to meet Ireena, but drawing a blank. Then as we are about one hundred paces outside of town, we hear a young woman calling out after us. It is Ireena. She is running after us, short of breath and begging us to stop for a second. She explains that we are the heroes of prophecy. Asking if she could travel with us to Vallaki. The way that Bantering DM is playing Ireena, makes me mad, as he is putting on a stereotypical airhead voice and making her sound dumb. Cayden and Jormungandr pick up on this and ask a few questions. Ireena explains that she was never allowed out of the house and that this is the furthest she’s been outside of the village. She found her dad's old breastplate and rapier, but she’d never used them before. That she’s never been in a fight. Later on, the Bantering DM would show this by having her routinely make dexterity saving throws in combat to not trip and fall prone. Describing her as swinging wildly and whenever she did hit an enemy made it sound like an accident. Nor does she seem to have any bonds with her village, or care to say goodbye to her brother. The biggest problem is never mentioned out loud, but through meta-knowledge I know that her father has not been buried yet. This means that the Bantering DM chose to cut the funeral from the module, or that it still needs to be done but Ireena does not care about laying her father to rest. We travel down the road and come to the gallows at the crossroads. It just so happens that Olivia sees the apparition of her own body dangling from the noose. She expresses sorrow and I hint at backstory trauma, calling the event “probably a bad memory of the last time I had a rope around my neck”. Then the Bantering DM performs the final part of Ireena’s character assassination. Ireena kneels down, looks Olivia in the eye, and says, “You must have gone mad”, then laughs at her. This is not Ireena, this is a careless fool with no empathy. I don’t know why the Bantering DM made these changes. Because he is sexist? To be funny? Is it because he considers the village portion of Barovia boring? Is he ignorant or malicious? I cannot answer these questions, nor will I pretend to be a mind reader. I am just laying out what he did. We continued to travel down the road, eventually meeting an old woman with a cart headed toward the village. Ireena seemed to know this woman, calling her Granny, and spoke louder to imply the older woman was hard of hearing. She greeted us and offered pies for sale. With meta-knowledge I know that this is Morgantha, a night hag who kills people and grinds their bones at her windmill aptly named Bonegrinder. But I would never act on this knowledge nor spoil the surprise for anyone else. Jormungandr then asked, “Are the pies made of people?”, without any suspicious behavior or provocation. Granny said ‘no, of course not’. But then Jormungandr started to question the old lady intensely. Why are you traveling all by yourself? Are you not scared of wolves? How big is this woman DM? Does she look like she has an arcane focus? Is there anything weird about her cart? Can I do an insight check to sense her motivations? He hardly even let the DM answer the damn question before firing off another one. So I break character and say. “Stop meta-gaming! Knock it off!” Confronting Jormungandr seemed to get him to stop, but this should be the job of the DM, especially one who laid out a list of table etiquette during session zero. Once we resumed, in character I ran defense for the hag. Saying that as a druid I could talk to animals and giving them food often lets them know you are friendly. Just because she is an old woman, does not mean she was incapable of taking care of herself. To which the hag agreed and gave me a free pie. After that, we got to the Vistani camp and Madame Eva’s fortune-telling. The cards we got were the best pulls I’ve ever seen, super thematic, and a great fated ally. The Sunsword would be at the beacon of Agronvostholt after we light it. The Tome is hidden in Baba Lysaga’s hut, makes sense that she’d keep her darling son's diary safe. The Holy Symbol is behind the sun at St. Markovia, so we have to confront a fallen angel to retrieve an amulet of faith. And we got the G.O.A.T. - Ezmerelda d'Avenir, we could run into her at a bunch of different places. All of this was meta-knowledge, of course, and unlike Jormungandr I did not intend to start demanding we go to these places to speedrun win D&D. We ended the session at that point, and once again we got a milestone level up. I left the voice call, took a few days to cool off, and then carefully wrote out a respectful message detailing my frustrations to the Bantering DM. Both about Jormungandr’s meta-gaming outburst during the hag interaction and how he chose to portray Ireena Kolyana. I explained that she was coming across as an unempathetic ditz. The way she was acting made it difficult for my character to like or trust her. Hammering on the points about the funeral as well as her mocking Olivia at the gallows. I wrote that I understand there are many ways the community around Curse of Strahd has characterized Ireena. Ranging from Palidoozy’s disney princess version to Dragnacarta’s complete rework of her character into an arc to recover her memories. Sometimes she is a damsel in distress, other times the light that Barovia desperately needs. I never got a response to my criticisms. Perhaps I was out of line? I did not want my comments to come across as backseat DMing. I never interrupted the flow of the session, waiting until afterward to try and communicate my concerns. I felt like my issues were tangible and explainable. I did consider leaving the game if things did not improve. In hindsight, I think that it was the insane fortune pulls that got me to stay. In the third session, Eternal Cake could play with us, but Cayden could not. Also, we got a new player added to the roster. A paladin named Paul. The party travels down the road until they come across a kidnapping in progress. Several men were tying up a young woman and stuffing her into a burlap sack. We charged in, and the DM puppeted Cayden. Paul was introduced in this fight. He emerged from the bushes and went after the bandits, ready to smite evil and save a damsel. Eternal Cake passed out inspiration like candy and used spells like bless and command. Jormungandr became a big angry boy and smashed his way through the bandits. Olivia got to show off her higher AC from taking a level dip into monk. Blowing everyone’s mind when I explained how these features stacked with wildshape. However, once again this combat brought out the worst in Bantering DM and Jormungandr. DM: “The bandit disengages and runs over here. Then he fires a crossbow at George-Munger.” Barb: “Jormungandr.” DM: “That is what I said, Gorge-Gander.” Barb: “Say my name right. Jormungandr.” DM: “Your Muh Ganger.” Barb: “George is my cat. He is a milk puddle. But I am not George.” Me: “Can we please keep combat going?” Barb: “No one asked you.” Me: “Whatever…” DM: “Anyway, a 13 misses your AC. Then it is this bandit’s turn. And he kills Jormungandr instantly.” Barb: “You haven't even rolled yet.” We manage to win the fight and have one enemy restrained in my entangle spell. During combat, we decided as a group to spare one of the kidnappers so that we could question him. Untying the young woman and pulling her from the sack. Then the girl casts produce flame and murders the bandit. Everyone is miffed, as it felt like the Bantering DM took away our opportunity to gain information. The girl explained that she was a Vistana named Arabella. Asking for us to guide her back to her camp, it is not far from Vallaki. We do so, and I don’t remember much of what happened during this session. I was upset about the bantering and that our group agency was taken away. I disassociated from the conversations but got the gist of it Like with Ismark and the barkeep, the Vistani people insulted us. They gave the party a cloak of protection as a reward for saving Arabella. The Bantering DM said that we should argue over who gets to wear it. The Vistani name-dropped Strahd and called themselves his allies. Telling us that we may as well give up any hope of escaping. He briefly mentions dusk elves also being in the camp. At one point, the Bantering DM realized I was not contributing to the conversation. So Arrigal asked if Olivia was for sale. I flatly said, “I am free, don’t ever say something like that to me again!” The lines between in and out-of-character blurred. When it was about ten minutes till, I wanted to do something else. I said that I would be interested in speaking with the dusk elves. The Bantering DM said, “They are prisoners and the Vistani told you to not bother them”. I asked if I could make a stealth check. He said, “There are like 300 Vistani in this camp and someone will spot you.” On the one hand, he did not make me roll for something I could not succeed in, but it still felt shitty to be told no it is impossible. We ended the session with a milestone level-up. I did not write the Bantering DM between sessions. I should not have returned for another game. Fourth session, Eternal Cake is once again missing in action. I had hoped that in this session everyone would be able to play and we could finally all get on the same page. We were also supposed to go into the town of Vallaki. However, once we started walking down the path a dusk elf appeared. She, yes a female dusk elf named Kassy-Mira no less, asked us to go to a haunted fort to find one of her sisters named Savida. My meta-knowledge goes into overload wondering what in the hell did this Bantering DM do. For those of you in the know, I am looking forward to responses and speculations in the comments section. Kassy-Mira explains that Savida is the keeper of their lore and history, an elven leader who must be recovered. I ask a couple of clarifying questions because at this point I have no idea what is going on. The elves are prisoners of the Vistani, yet a leader was able to escape? Why did no one else escape? Where is this fort? If the fort is haunted why would they flee there? Why are the dusk elves prisoners anyway? Did you escape Miss Kassy-Mira? Do the elves want to revolt against the Vistani? But I only got answers that the fort was to the west and that returning their leader was paramount. Then she rushed back to voluntarily go back into dusk elf prison, I guess. So instead of going to Vallaki like I was hoping, I guess we are going to the house of the silver dragon. My only theory is that the Bantering DM wanted us to get started on the questline to retrieve the skull, so he shoe-horned in a way for us to redirect to Argonvostholt. But in doing so he also revealed whatever he did to the dusk elf lore. I’m guessing he reversed the gender of the events before the campaign started. Which makes me wonder, did he gender-bend Rahadin too? We wander down the road and find the haunted mansion atop the muddy hill. Seeing the statue and for whatever reason we decide to check out the collapsed stables first. The rest of the session was a combat encounter against a dozen giant spiders. Two of the three hours were dedicated to this, mostly because the Bantering DM and Jormungandr took forever to keep the turns moving along. And they were particularly toxic during this combat because Jormungandr hated that his rage did not resist poison. I knew that once the session was over, I’d be writing up my farewell message. Every time it was my turn, I simply stated what actions I took and quickly did it. Elaborating if questioned on my abilities. DM: "Make a Con save against poison". Barb: "No, make me." DM: "Do it bitch." Barb: "Fine. 21." DM: "You failed." Barb: "It says DC 11 for spider DM." DM: "Yeah, well, fuck you." Me: “I use multiattack, bite, claw, bonus action unarmed strike. 21 to hit, for 7 piercing damage. 18 to hit, for 15 slashing damage. 24 to hit, for 5 bludgeoning damage.” Barb: “You can do three attacks? That is bullshit.” Me: “Brown Bear has multiattack, monk grants martial arts.” After the fight, we had just enough time to enter the mansion and find Savida. Olivia still had some spell slots, so I tended to her injuries. The Bantering DM said that the party would question her at the start of the next session. Once we ended the call, I wrote up a few things. First I left a message in the general chat thanking the players and wishing them well. I learned from Cayden later on that my farewell message was deleted by the DM. Then I wrote my final criticisms and sent them to the Bantering DM privately, letting him know I would not be returning. https://preview.redd.it/q3vodfhvln1d1.png?width=823&format=png&auto=webp&s=d9518097a06761bceec649228aa34b8d8b786165 https://preview.redd.it/kvj7l4u3mn1d1.png?width=1225&format=png&auto=webp&s=865388fc0d5c65ff64776196f6725de01c228049 The punchline to this joke of a campaign. A week later, today, Cayden tells me that the Bantering DM canceled the session because neither of his buddies showed up to play. Eternal Flake, Geogreinanger, and the Bantering DM, despite all my complaints I hope they continue to have fun. Maybe next time though, don’t play favorites and charge people for a “fun time in Grandpa’s basement”. https://preview.redd.it/vycv0uqsln1d1.png?width=1229&format=png&auto=webp&s=2c241b09728ebc29653e384dea90a24d770e7a0b |
2024.05.20 20:52 MasteringTheFlames In the early days of the pandemic, Gwen Hasselquist's body is found in the Puget Sound. The obituary states the cause of death as Covid-19, the coroner's report rules it a suicide. Friends and family, however, believe husband Erik --quickly remarried and moved to Africa-- killed her.
Setting the stage
The date is March 19, 2020. In the news, the US Senate announces a $1 trillion stimulus package to aid the American public through the Covid pandemic, the Department of Education issues guidelines for online learning, and the number of Covid-19 deaths in Italy surpasses those in China. Of less note at the time, Gig Harbor, Washington resident Erik Hasselquist posts on social media that his wife Gwendolyn has tested positive for the coronavirus. The next day, Gwen's body would be found floating in the Puget Sound. In the months and years to come, the case would receive little to no public interest. To those who knew Gwen, it would change their lives. Why does her obituary imply the virus as her cause of death, when the coroner's report rules it a suicide? How did she drive herself 15 miles (24 km) to the Tacoma Narrows Bridge shortly after taking 60 pills of benzodiazepine? Who was the man a witness claims was in the vehicle with her? Why did Erik, just months later, re-marry and move to his new wife's home country in Africa, leaving his and Gwen's two children in the US?
Before we go further, I'd like to take a moment to speak to my sources. This is not a well-known case, in fact I have found exactly zero news articles about this. If you google Gwen's name, you'll find her obituary, a single account each on Instagram and Flickr, and the websites of two true crime podcasts. Luminol has a write-up about her, but in trying to listen to the episode, I experienced a 404 error. Lastly, the Locations Unknown podcast, which has released four episodes totaling 8 hours. Each episode features a guest, Andy. An attorney by trade, Andy is not professionally associated with the case, but rather has a personal connection to the case. He is a friend of a friend to the hosts of the podcast. Locations Unknown is my go-to source for most information here, cross-referencing all other sources as needed. Locations Unknown also submitted FOIA requests to several agencies, and received the police reports from the Pierce County Sheriff's Department, which the podcast has made available on their website. Episode 50 lays the groundwork through Andy's own account of the events. Episode 53 follows up with the police reports, and episodes 66 and 68 each feature extensive interviews with Gwen's loved ones. I first listened to the podcast on Pandora, but it's also available on YouTube with some very helpful visuals. Links to all materials will be provided at the end. That out of the way, back to Gwen's story.
Gwen's disappearance
Our story takes place in Washington State. The Hasselquists live outside the town of Gig Harbor. Located at the north end of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, Gig Harbor is a small community of about 12,000. The Hasselquist home is located roughly a 15 mile (24 km) drive northwest of the bridge, in the rural, wooded community of Glencove.
On March 19, 2020, Erik posts on social media announcing Gwen's coronavirus diagnosis to friends and family. At 5:46 the next morning, Erik posts a video on Facebook from their home's Ring doorbell, announcing Gwen's disappearance and asking for help finding her. Gwen is seen exiting the home, alone. She closes the door behind her, then fumbles for nearly a minute to lock the door. She appears inebriated, lacking the dexterity to lock the door, and stands motionless for a long moment, as if dazed and confused. The video, since deleted, was described by Andy as "really creepy to watch." Later that same morning, at 7:30 AM, Erik posts on social media again: "Today I've watched the sunrise knowing my love likely didn't get to see it." Six hours after that post, around 3:20 that afternoon, police respond to a kayaker who called in reporting a body floating in the water about 6 miles (10 km) south of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. She has multiple cuts on her left hand and wrist, not believed to be self-inflicted. The police report states of the Ring video, "Gwendolyn may have had the observed injury to the back of her left hand prior to leaving the residence."
August 25, 2020, another police report is filed, stating that the police had received and reviewed the medical examiner's report. The cause of death is found to be "multiple traumatic injuries due to fall," the manner of death ruled suicide. "Additionally, benzodiazepine was detected in the decedent's blood," however the dosage and other details are not mentioned.
Gwen's car and the witness
Around midnight the previous night --that's the evening of March 19 into the early morning hours of the 20th-- a minivan had been found near the middle of the bridge by a state trooper dispatched to investigate the report of the abandoned vehicle. Upon arriving at the car, the state trooper found the van and a witness. The van appeared to have been in a crash, with every passenger-side window broken out. The witness was seen reaching into the van as the trooper arrived. Witness's behavior was described as erratic, and Trooper suspected issues of "both alcohol and mental health." Witness claims to have been offered a ride by a female driver, and that there was a passenger in the back of the van. The female stopped the car, got out, and gifted Witness the car. Officers checked the car's registration, and visited Erik's home at 12:53 that night to inform him that his vehicle had been found. Erik stated his wife was home with him, and the officer noted in the police report that Erik seemed "noticeably unphased" by his vehicle being found stolen. Because Gwen was thought to have Covid, the officers did not enter the home or verify she was there that night.
Because it was presumed to be an unreported stolen vehicle, the witness was taken into custody, at which point he amended his story. He states that he told the woman not to park on the bridge, but she seemed unresponsive. He then left the woman, but returned a short while later. As Witness was walking back towards the van, he says he saw a "dark figure" over the guard rail before the figure disappeared, but could not say it was the woman nor that the figure jumped. Witness ID'd the woman he'd talked to as Gwen based on a photo, but could not identify Erik's photo. Witness was then released from custody.
On August 31, 2020, a final, brief supplemental police report is filed. It begins, "Please note for consideration that during the course of this investigation, a number of family/friends/citizens familiar with Gwendolyn came forward with concerns that her death was not an act of suicide." It discusses her childhood abuse and recent steps to process that in therapy. She is said to be doing well, "reforging old familial bonds, expressed a positive and optimistic outlook on life, and was making plans for the future. It was discussed that she would never abandon her children intentionally." It goes on to note Erik's "concerning history" and strange behavior following Gwen's death. He is an alcoholic, has a history of domestic abuse towards Gwen, and suicidal ideation. Erik insisted that Gwen was despondent over her recent Covid diagnosis, and was therefore driven to suicide. Days later, "a family pet died and Erik was quick to explain on social media that the pet was also taken by COVID19. Erik began isolating the children from Gwen's family and friends." It continues to address the strange circumstances surrounding his hastiness to remarry. The report concludes: "Though unusual, these documented circumstances do not readily identify any overt malicious intent behind Gwen's passing; however they do present cause for consideration. Those with opinions about the welfare Gwen's surviving children were encouraged to report their concerns to local CPS."
So with that, let's get into Erik's actions in the months and years following Gwen's death.
Erik remarries
April 16th, less than a month after Gwen's death. Erik posts on Instagram that both of his kids --roughly 8 and 11 years old-- encouraged him to start dating again. "This house needs more female leadership... No one will ever replace Gwen, but we want this family to be whole again." On May 31, he once again posts expressing his hope to "find a woman." Thursday, June 11, he gets his wish, announcing that he got married the previous Sunday. March 25, 2021, Erik posts on Instagram a photo of him and his wife on a plane. "Today I leave this shithole country to be with my wife. Fuck the US. Not coming back anytime soon." Three comments ask something to the effect of, "who are your kids staying with while you're gone?" to which there are no responses.
Interviews
The previous information entirely originated from the first two episodes of the Locations Unknown podcast, police reports, and Andy's knowledge of the case. At this point, we're going to start diving into the follow-up podcasts. Episode 66 of Locations Unknown is an interview with Gwen's best friend Dawn, and episode 68 is another interview with Gwen's sister Dora. The two interviews total another three hours in length, but this post is getting long enough as is. So I'll bullet point "a few" key take-aways from each interview.
Dawn
This was a long interview, and a bit all over the place, and my notes may reflect that. I'll organize them as best I can, but some points may be a bit jumbled due to Dora kind of jumping around the timeline.
Sticking with Dora's interview on the podcast, I think this part deserves a long-form section.
During one of Erik's suicidal outbursts, Erik's kid called his grandparents in Wisconsin, who contacted Dora asking her to take the kids for a few days. Social Services reached out to begin the process of re-homing the kids with Dora long-term. However, by the time she arrived in Gig Harbor after the three hour drive from her home, the local police informed Dora that the kids had already been placed with CPS in Tacoma. On the way, she was in communication with CPS to begin background checks and other steps for her to permanently take in the kids. When she arrived in Tacoma, Dora was told that due to her living across state lines in Oregon, the children could not be placed with her, and instead would end up with other family --distant family the kids only met once-- in Seattle. Dora was able to see the children in their new home, and felt that they were in good enough hands, however this family was an older lady. Her home was described as the type where "everything has a place, not a place where kids would be wanted bouncing off the walls." Dora, on the other hand, already had kids at home, has been with Gwen's kids through the whole ordeal, and was just generally a better fit, CPS bureaucracy aside.
Shortly after the kids were relocated to be with their paternal grandparents in Wisconsin pending custody disputes, Dora made plans to go see them for a week. She had made arrangements for a hotel with a pool, the kids would spend a night with Dora, a rental car large enough for the kids, and so on. Three weeks before the trip, Erik caught word of it, and tightly restricted how much Dora could see the kids. Ultimately, she decided to cancel the trip to avoid causing drama. The kids ultimately were permanently rehomed with their grandparents in Wisconsin, to the best of my knowledge.
Closing thoughts
Anyone still with me through all that? Wow. You're awesome! You've almost made it!
Honestly, I'm not unbiased on this. One host of the podcast in particular is very set in his interpretation of this case. I've listened to it all twice, that's 16+ hours of his bias, and that skews my interpretation of the facts. I tried to set that aside as best as possible and just present the facts and the opinions not of myself and the podcast, but of those who knew and loved Gwen. That said, a few closing thoughts.
The police work in this case, I think, is lacking, to put it lightly. I don't believe it to be malicious in nature, but rather simply a result of the times. It was the very, very early days of the pandemic. Police officers are humans just like anyone else, and were scared. Gwen was going through hard times personally during hard times worldwide, she took a bunch of pills, and jumped off a bridge. On the surface, it looks like a suicide. But there are so many questions. The bloody knife. The man that may have been seen in the car on the bridge. The Tacoma Narrows is a toll bridge. Why were toll booth attendants not interviewed? Were there cameras anywhere on the bridge, and if so, why do the police reports not mention pulling video?
At this point, I'll say it: I think Erik killed her. I understand that we all process grief differently, and if Erik was genuinely ready to remarry so quickly, then all the best to the newly wed couple. But there are so many bits and pieces that just add up to cause concern. If this case is re-opened, given a serious investigation without the effects of Covid fog, and they still rule it suicide, fine. I'll edit this post to put an apology to Erik right at the top in bold. But it needs a second look.
The hosts of Locations Unknown have said that more family and friends than just Dawn and Dora have reached out, but wish to stay off the record. Both Dawn and Dora were closest to Gwen. But the podcast has said that even some people who were friends of Erik before he met Gwen believe Erik killed her. At the time of the most recent episode of Locations Unknown being published (8/10/2022) 10 more interviews were lined up, including with those friends of Erik. In the most recent episode, they said it "certainly would not" be the last. And yet in a recent collaboration with another podcast, they said they've hit a dead end. I'll be following closely to see if they break through it, and I sure hope other people do as well.
So, thoughts? How do you think Gwen died? What did I miss in my presentation and interpretation of this, what other theories do you all have?
Sources
Locations Unknown 50 --Overview of the case
Locations Unknown 53 -- Reviewing police reports
Locations Unknown 66 --Interviewing Dawn
Locations Unknown 68 --Interviewing Dora
Police Reports
Luminol podcast article
Gwen's obituary
submitted by MasteringTheFlames to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]
The date is March 19, 2020. In the news, the US Senate announces a $1 trillion stimulus package to aid the American public through the Covid pandemic, the Department of Education issues guidelines for online learning, and the number of Covid-19 deaths in Italy surpasses those in China. Of less note at the time, Gig Harbor, Washington resident Erik Hasselquist posts on social media that his wife Gwendolyn has tested positive for the coronavirus. The next day, Gwen's body would be found floating in the Puget Sound. In the months and years to come, the case would receive little to no public interest. To those who knew Gwen, it would change their lives. Why does her obituary imply the virus as her cause of death, when the coroner's report rules it a suicide? How did she drive herself 15 miles (24 km) to the Tacoma Narrows Bridge shortly after taking 60 pills of benzodiazepine? Who was the man a witness claims was in the vehicle with her? Why did Erik, just months later, re-marry and move to his new wife's home country in Africa, leaving his and Gwen's two children in the US?
Before we go further, I'd like to take a moment to speak to my sources. This is not a well-known case, in fact I have found exactly zero news articles about this. If you google Gwen's name, you'll find her obituary, a single account each on Instagram and Flickr, and the websites of two true crime podcasts. Luminol has a write-up about her, but in trying to listen to the episode, I experienced a 404 error. Lastly, the Locations Unknown podcast, which has released four episodes totaling 8 hours. Each episode features a guest, Andy. An attorney by trade, Andy is not professionally associated with the case, but rather has a personal connection to the case. He is a friend of a friend to the hosts of the podcast. Locations Unknown is my go-to source for most information here, cross-referencing all other sources as needed. Locations Unknown also submitted FOIA requests to several agencies, and received the police reports from the Pierce County Sheriff's Department, which the podcast has made available on their website. Episode 50 lays the groundwork through Andy's own account of the events. Episode 53 follows up with the police reports, and episodes 66 and 68 each feature extensive interviews with Gwen's loved ones. I first listened to the podcast on Pandora, but it's also available on YouTube with some very helpful visuals. Links to all materials will be provided at the end. That out of the way, back to Gwen's story.
Gwen's disappearance
Our story takes place in Washington State. The Hasselquists live outside the town of Gig Harbor. Located at the north end of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, Gig Harbor is a small community of about 12,000. The Hasselquist home is located roughly a 15 mile (24 km) drive northwest of the bridge, in the rural, wooded community of Glencove.
On March 19, 2020, Erik posts on social media announcing Gwen's coronavirus diagnosis to friends and family. At 5:46 the next morning, Erik posts a video on Facebook from their home's Ring doorbell, announcing Gwen's disappearance and asking for help finding her. Gwen is seen exiting the home, alone. She closes the door behind her, then fumbles for nearly a minute to lock the door. She appears inebriated, lacking the dexterity to lock the door, and stands motionless for a long moment, as if dazed and confused. The video, since deleted, was described by Andy as "really creepy to watch." Later that same morning, at 7:30 AM, Erik posts on social media again: "Today I've watched the sunrise knowing my love likely didn't get to see it." Six hours after that post, around 3:20 that afternoon, police respond to a kayaker who called in reporting a body floating in the water about 6 miles (10 km) south of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge. She has multiple cuts on her left hand and wrist, not believed to be self-inflicted. The police report states of the Ring video, "Gwendolyn may have had the observed injury to the back of her left hand prior to leaving the residence."
August 25, 2020, another police report is filed, stating that the police had received and reviewed the medical examiner's report. The cause of death is found to be "multiple traumatic injuries due to fall," the manner of death ruled suicide. "Additionally, benzodiazepine was detected in the decedent's blood," however the dosage and other details are not mentioned.
Gwen's car and the witness
Around midnight the previous night --that's the evening of March 19 into the early morning hours of the 20th-- a minivan had been found near the middle of the bridge by a state trooper dispatched to investigate the report of the abandoned vehicle. Upon arriving at the car, the state trooper found the van and a witness. The van appeared to have been in a crash, with every passenger-side window broken out. The witness was seen reaching into the van as the trooper arrived. Witness's behavior was described as erratic, and Trooper suspected issues of "both alcohol and mental health." Witness claims to have been offered a ride by a female driver, and that there was a passenger in the back of the van. The female stopped the car, got out, and gifted Witness the car. Officers checked the car's registration, and visited Erik's home at 12:53 that night to inform him that his vehicle had been found. Erik stated his wife was home with him, and the officer noted in the police report that Erik seemed "noticeably unphased" by his vehicle being found stolen. Because Gwen was thought to have Covid, the officers did not enter the home or verify she was there that night.
Because it was presumed to be an unreported stolen vehicle, the witness was taken into custody, at which point he amended his story. He states that he told the woman not to park on the bridge, but she seemed unresponsive. He then left the woman, but returned a short while later. As Witness was walking back towards the van, he says he saw a "dark figure" over the guard rail before the figure disappeared, but could not say it was the woman nor that the figure jumped. Witness ID'd the woman he'd talked to as Gwen based on a photo, but could not identify Erik's photo. Witness was then released from custody.
On August 31, 2020, a final, brief supplemental police report is filed. It begins, "Please note for consideration that during the course of this investigation, a number of family/friends/citizens familiar with Gwendolyn came forward with concerns that her death was not an act of suicide." It discusses her childhood abuse and recent steps to process that in therapy. She is said to be doing well, "reforging old familial bonds, expressed a positive and optimistic outlook on life, and was making plans for the future. It was discussed that she would never abandon her children intentionally." It goes on to note Erik's "concerning history" and strange behavior following Gwen's death. He is an alcoholic, has a history of domestic abuse towards Gwen, and suicidal ideation. Erik insisted that Gwen was despondent over her recent Covid diagnosis, and was therefore driven to suicide. Days later, "a family pet died and Erik was quick to explain on social media that the pet was also taken by COVID19. Erik began isolating the children from Gwen's family and friends." It continues to address the strange circumstances surrounding his hastiness to remarry. The report concludes: "Though unusual, these documented circumstances do not readily identify any overt malicious intent behind Gwen's passing; however they do present cause for consideration. Those with opinions about the welfare Gwen's surviving children were encouraged to report their concerns to local CPS."
So with that, let's get into Erik's actions in the months and years following Gwen's death.
Erik remarries
April 16th, less than a month after Gwen's death. Erik posts on Instagram that both of his kids --roughly 8 and 11 years old-- encouraged him to start dating again. "This house needs more female leadership... No one will ever replace Gwen, but we want this family to be whole again." On May 31, he once again posts expressing his hope to "find a woman." Thursday, June 11, he gets his wish, announcing that he got married the previous Sunday. March 25, 2021, Erik posts on Instagram a photo of him and his wife on a plane. "Today I leave this shithole country to be with my wife. Fuck the US. Not coming back anytime soon." Three comments ask something to the effect of, "who are your kids staying with while you're gone?" to which there are no responses.
Interviews
The previous information entirely originated from the first two episodes of the Locations Unknown podcast, police reports, and Andy's knowledge of the case. At this point, we're going to start diving into the follow-up podcasts. Episode 66 of Locations Unknown is an interview with Gwen's best friend Dawn, and episode 68 is another interview with Gwen's sister Dora. The two interviews total another three hours in length, but this post is getting long enough as is. So I'll bullet point "a few" key take-aways from each interview.
Dawn
- Gwen's friendship with Dawn goes all the way back to high school. The two are very close, and so Gwen confided in Dawn about Erik's violent, alcoholic behavior, his repeated waving a gun around screaming about killing himself. Dawn had, on at least one occasion prior to Gwen's death, told her husband she thought Erik would someday kill Gwen.
- When Dawn visited Gwen and Erik in 2016, she described him as being weirdly obsessed with running, abruptly leaving social engagements when it was time for his 17 mile run. The abandoned car was found 15 miles from the Hasselquist home, which Dawn believes was a distance Erik would be capable of running in the time that elapsed between Gwen's death and the next time his location could be verified by others. Dora would later corroborate this.
- On Gwen's birthday two weeks before her death, she told Dawn "this is gonna be my best year yet." Of course nobody ever thinks a loved one will kill themself before it happens, but a friend who Gwen had often turned to during her darkest times? Why would Gwen have lied to Dawn? Gwen was also known to be an incredibly attentive and loving mother who would never leave her children.
- Dawn was not close with Erik, but he personally told her the news of Gwen's passing four days later. Dawn described him as being incredibly blunt in delivering this news.
- Dawn described the detective as expressing that he was overwhelmed with other cases at the time of Gwen's death.
- Shortly after the death, Dawn reached out to Dora, who only briefly met once as kids, and both quickly agreed that something felt off, they were convinced Erik was involved in her death.
This was a long interview, and a bit all over the place, and my notes may reflect that. I'll organize them as best I can, but some points may be a bit jumbled due to Dora kind of jumping around the timeline.
- Gwen's step-sister, though they grew up together and thought of each other as sisters. They were estranged for 20-some years, but reconnected seven weeks before Gwen's death. In that time, Dora and her family had gone to visit Gwen and Erik. Her impression was that all was well in the Hasselquist home, until she woke up to a
midnighttext from Erik asking if she'd heard from Gwen. (EDIT A few commenters have expressed confusion about the timeline here, given Erik was not informed of the car crash until closer to 1:00 AM. I use the word "midnight" metaphorically here, to imply "some godawful hour of the night when people should be asleep." The timestamp is never specified, but Dora said she saw the text had already come through by the time she woke around 4:00 AM. Apologies for my poor word choice) - Lives about a three hour's drive from Gwen, and described the home as immediately feeling weird when she arrived the morning of March 20. Erik did not want Dora to come to his home that morning, but she insisted.
- That morning, Dora's daughter --whose age is unclear but was at the time in a Master's program for mental health studies-- quickly took to caring for Gwen's children. On their way home March 21, Dora's daughter said that one of Gwen's children told her, "there was a bloody knife and tissues on the counter, but Dada cleaned them up."
- After Dawn expressed suspicion of Erik, a third unnamed friend of Gwen --who also had previously not known Dawn or Dora-- expressed the same concern. Gwen at one point sent her children to this friend who lived in Gig Harbor, following one of Erik's outbursts that left her fearing for the kids' safety.
- Dora believes that Erik's second wife, Miriam, had no role in Gwen's death, nor was Erik having an affair. Most likely a transactional marriage to get her green card. Her father then passed away, she returned to Kenya for the funeral, and was not allowed to return to the US afterwards. It is speculated this is what led to Erik's "fuck the US" posts.
- Dora was cut out of Erik's life around June or July after Gwen's death, even after she would drop everything and drive three hours to go help him with anything, including Miriam's call regarding one of Erik's drunken outbursts. She believes that Erik was intimidated by her concern and proximity.
- Gwen's children described to Dora burning their mom's clothes "so Mom could take them to heaven."
- The car had been described as looking as if it side-swiped a bridge guard rail, yet months later, the responding state trooper told Dora "that was a weird night," and that there were wood fragments in the car. The Tacoma Narrows Bridge is made of metal and concrete.
- Shortly after Gwen's death, Erik mentioned to Dora that he had to go to multiple different banks to close Gwen's accounts. Loved ones believe Gwen may have been spreading her money around among different banks to hide it from Erik, as if she was planning to run away from him.
- Within weeks, Gwen's kids were calling Miriam "Mom" and referring to Gwen by name.
Sticking with Dora's interview on the podcast, I think this part deserves a long-form section.
During one of Erik's suicidal outbursts, Erik's kid called his grandparents in Wisconsin, who contacted Dora asking her to take the kids for a few days. Social Services reached out to begin the process of re-homing the kids with Dora long-term. However, by the time she arrived in Gig Harbor after the three hour drive from her home, the local police informed Dora that the kids had already been placed with CPS in Tacoma. On the way, she was in communication with CPS to begin background checks and other steps for her to permanently take in the kids. When she arrived in Tacoma, Dora was told that due to her living across state lines in Oregon, the children could not be placed with her, and instead would end up with other family --distant family the kids only met once-- in Seattle. Dora was able to see the children in their new home, and felt that they were in good enough hands, however this family was an older lady. Her home was described as the type where "everything has a place, not a place where kids would be wanted bouncing off the walls." Dora, on the other hand, already had kids at home, has been with Gwen's kids through the whole ordeal, and was just generally a better fit, CPS bureaucracy aside.
Shortly after the kids were relocated to be with their paternal grandparents in Wisconsin pending custody disputes, Dora made plans to go see them for a week. She had made arrangements for a hotel with a pool, the kids would spend a night with Dora, a rental car large enough for the kids, and so on. Three weeks before the trip, Erik caught word of it, and tightly restricted how much Dora could see the kids. Ultimately, she decided to cancel the trip to avoid causing drama. The kids ultimately were permanently rehomed with their grandparents in Wisconsin, to the best of my knowledge.
Closing thoughts
Anyone still with me through all that? Wow. You're awesome! You've almost made it!
Honestly, I'm not unbiased on this. One host of the podcast in particular is very set in his interpretation of this case. I've listened to it all twice, that's 16+ hours of his bias, and that skews my interpretation of the facts. I tried to set that aside as best as possible and just present the facts and the opinions not of myself and the podcast, but of those who knew and loved Gwen. That said, a few closing thoughts.
The police work in this case, I think, is lacking, to put it lightly. I don't believe it to be malicious in nature, but rather simply a result of the times. It was the very, very early days of the pandemic. Police officers are humans just like anyone else, and were scared. Gwen was going through hard times personally during hard times worldwide, she took a bunch of pills, and jumped off a bridge. On the surface, it looks like a suicide. But there are so many questions. The bloody knife. The man that may have been seen in the car on the bridge. The Tacoma Narrows is a toll bridge. Why were toll booth attendants not interviewed? Were there cameras anywhere on the bridge, and if so, why do the police reports not mention pulling video?
At this point, I'll say it: I think Erik killed her. I understand that we all process grief differently, and if Erik was genuinely ready to remarry so quickly, then all the best to the newly wed couple. But there are so many bits and pieces that just add up to cause concern. If this case is re-opened, given a serious investigation without the effects of Covid fog, and they still rule it suicide, fine. I'll edit this post to put an apology to Erik right at the top in bold. But it needs a second look.
The hosts of Locations Unknown have said that more family and friends than just Dawn and Dora have reached out, but wish to stay off the record. Both Dawn and Dora were closest to Gwen. But the podcast has said that even some people who were friends of Erik before he met Gwen believe Erik killed her. At the time of the most recent episode of Locations Unknown being published (8/10/2022) 10 more interviews were lined up, including with those friends of Erik. In the most recent episode, they said it "certainly would not" be the last. And yet in a recent collaboration with another podcast, they said they've hit a dead end. I'll be following closely to see if they break through it, and I sure hope other people do as well.
So, thoughts? How do you think Gwen died? What did I miss in my presentation and interpretation of this, what other theories do you all have?
Sources
Locations Unknown 50 --Overview of the case
Locations Unknown 53 -- Reviewing police reports
Locations Unknown 66 --Interviewing Dawn
Locations Unknown 68 --Interviewing Dora
Police Reports
Luminol podcast article
Gwen's obituary
2024.05.20 19:25 HDClown Rockville SS8P Active Powered Subwoofer Install
Completed install this weekend of the Rockville SS8P Poweree Subwoofer to replace the stock Meridian subwoofer. It is absolutely amazing how much better this $100 amplified sub is compared to the Meridian sub. I drove the car for about 20 minutes without the Meridian sub installed and I honestly couldn't tell any difference that it was no longer in the car.
All of the information for this install came out of this thread on the Kia EV Forums. I posted this all over in that thread but I figured I would throw it out here on reddit as well, for those who may not read that site.
It doesn't look like there's been much discussion on this subreddit on the subwoofer in general and someone had asked me about doing a video tutorial but that's not really my thing. Hopefully this will provide enough instructional information for anyone interested in tackling this project.
Other than the repair harness, everything listed above except for the spade piggyback connectors can be purchased at Home Depot or Lowes. I couldn't find the spade piggyback in either store and none of the local auto parts stores stocked them.
I used the Meridian amp as a shape reference and for alignment of the mounting holes. As I have a router, I rounded over the top and bottom edges of the board and then sanded them nice and smooth. Rounding the edges isn't necessary but I suggest you sand down all edges of the board otherwise.
With the way I shaped my board, it was a little too narrow to use the mounting holes in the metal brackets for the Rockville amp, so I drilled a new hole in each bracket that was closer to the amp. The 3/16" x 1/2" x 1/16" washers between the bottom of the amp mounting bracket at top of the board. This served two purposes, first as a bridge between the bracket and the board because there is a gap from the rug pad, and as vibration isolation for the bracket on the board.
The 5/8" Black Chromate Pan Head Phillips Wood Screws are used to secure the amp to the board. Any 1/2" to 5/8" pan head wood screw would work here, I just wanted black ones to match. You could use the screws that came with the amp but with a 3/4" thick board, they would protrude out the bottom and I would advise against that.
https://i.imgur.com/yPp83eh.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/rs6J87z.jpeg
To make this a non-invasive install, I used a pair of 3-way spade piggyback connectors that go between the spade terminals on the back of the 12V outlet and the car harness. I then used nylon insulated female crimp spade terminal to connect to the piggyback connector. I am not using this connection for ground (covered in next step), but to not have a completed exposed connector, I put an unused crimp terminal on the ground side piggyback.
On the car harness for the 12V socket, the wires are as follows:
Make sure you sand off the paint immediately around the mounting hole on the metal bracket so you have a proper ground connection.
On the repair harness with the locking hole in the repair connector facing upwards, this is the order of connections from Left to Right when using the Rockville SS8P/SS10P. Note that the amp side wiring colors may vary for other amp models.
Important Note: Make sure that "Auto On" is turned on for the amp (button pushed in for Rockville SS8P/SS10P). No remote wire gets used for this install so Auto On is required for the amp to know to turn itself on when it received a high level signal from the radio.
Route the remote cable underneath the left side trunk trim panel and into the cabin behind the seat. Proceed with routing the cable down towards the floor and up the driver's side of the car, tucking it underneath all of the floor trim panels, then underneath the driver's side footwell trim panel and finally up in front of the fuse box.
https://i.imgur.com/1lzMWQo.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/E9lPBTZ.jpg
The Rockville bass remote comes with a flat ribbon cable and it squeezes behind the fuse panel cover even without any modifications to the cover. It does pinch the cable slightly but not enough to pierce the outter jacket of the cable, you can see the indentations in the above picture.
I opted to trim out a bit of the plastic on the back side of the fuse cover using an x-acto knife, then sanded all the rough edges smoothly. I also lightly sanded the top edge of the panel so smooth it out. This helps with the amount the fuse panel cover squeezes into the remote cable but doesn't modify the cover in a way that anyone would know from the visible face of the panel.
https://i.imgur.com/NKUKGM8.jpg
In the area were the power and bass remote cable runs over trunk floor, there are a couple open holes that have sharp edges. I covered this area with a few layers of gaffers tape as it's a nice soft cloth material that removes easily, but a few layers of any other tape (duct, electrical, masking, painters) will yield the same effect. I also tape those two wires down to keep them from moving around.
Ideally you run these cables up underneath the rear trunk trim panel and into the left side trim panel so they are completely hidden when the area cover is removed and you don't have to do all the tape padding. In my case, the bass remote cable was a few inches too short in total as I had ran it, and I didn't feel like pulling it out again to re-run to try and get the extra length needed. Everything is covered by the amp area cover so this was good enough for me.
The connector from the car to the amp and repair harness ends up resting in an area where it's against the metal of the trunk area. To prevent this from making noises while driving, I wrapped the connectors in a piece of paper towel and taped the towel to itself. When the rear trunk trim piece is installed, this will get pressed between the chassis and the sound dampening pad on the back of the trim piece.
https://i.imgur.com/uPT2Fks.jpg
submitted by HDClown to KiaEV6 [link] [comments]
All of the information for this install came out of this thread on the Kia EV Forums. I posted this all over in that thread but I figured I would throw it out here on reddit as well, for those who may not read that site.
It doesn't look like there's been much discussion on this subreddit on the subwoofer in general and someone had asked me about doing a video tutorial but that's not really my thing. Hopefully this will provide enough instructional information for anyone interested in tackling this project.
Parts
- (1) Hyundai/Kia Repair Harness - 18790 03730AS - https://www.sparekorea.com/product/parts/60302?no=1879003730AS
- (1) 2 X 4 (ft.) Rectangular Vinyl Non-Slip Rug Pad - Project Source 1839839 - Lowes
- (4) M6-1.00 x 30mm Hex Cap Bolts, Stainless Steel - Hillman 882081 - Lowes
- (4) 1/4" lock washers
- (4) 1/4" regular washers
- (4) 8 x 5/8" Black Chromate Pan Head Phillips Wood Screws - Hillman 884856 - Lowes
- (4) Rubber Washers 3/16" x 1 1/2" x 1/8" - Hillman 884637 - Lowes
- (4) Rubber Washers 3/16" x 1/2" x 1/16" - Hillman 880368 - Lowes
- (1) 14 AWG Stranded Primary Wire, Black, 20ft roll - Southwire 55669021 - Lowes
- (1) 14 AWG Stranded Primary Wire, Red, 20ft roll - Southwire 5669121
- (2) Quick Disconnect Spade 3-Way Piggyback Connectors - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0195V03H4
- (2) Nylon Insulated Female Quick Disconnect Crimp Spade Terminals, 16-14 AWG
- (1) Crimp Fork Terminal, 16-14 AWG
- Heat Shrink Tubing
- 1/2" Inner Diameter Split Wire Loom
- Velcro Strips
- Self-Stick Velcro
- Gaffers Tape
- Wood Board
Other than the repair harness, everything listed above except for the spade piggyback connectors can be purchased at Home Depot or Lowes. I couldn't find the spade piggyback in either store and none of the local auto parts stores stocked them.
Accessing The Amp Area
- Remove the false floor cover from the trunk area.
- Remove the 2 side covers from the amp cover
- Pull straight up to remove the entire amp cover
(Optional) Accessing The 12V Socket Wiring Harness
I didn't want to use the 12V cigarette adapter, so I tapped off the 12V outlet harness (details below). Access this area with the following steps:- Remove 2 holding caps from the rear trunk trim then pull directly upwards to remove the entire trim piece
- Remove the 2 bolts that were underneath the amp cover from the left side (as looking into the car) trunk trim piece
- Remove 1 bolt from behind the rear seat release lever on the left side trunk trim piece
- Pull the left side trunk trim piece away from the side of the car, starting from the back
Amp Mounting Board
I used a 5/8" thick board I had on hand. If you have a rear strut brace you may need to pay extra attention to board thickness relative to the specific amp you use and it's height. The SS8P clears with a little room with the 5/8" board combined with rubber washers and padding material I used (more on that below). I think the SS10P will clear with a 5/8" board as well.I used the Meridian amp as a shape reference and for alignment of the mounting holes. As I have a router, I rounded over the top and bottom edges of the board and then sanded them nice and smooth. Rounding the edges isn't necessary but I suggest you sand down all edges of the board otherwise.
Mounting Board to Car
The stock mounting bolts are M6-1.00 but too short to re-use, so I purchased new 30mm ones. My Lowes only had stainless steel ones in this size, but regular zinc ones are fine. I used a 1/4" lock washer and regular where the top side of the board. The 3/16" x 1 1/2" x 1/8" rubber washers were used between the metal mounts in the car and the bottom of the board to provide vibration dampening.Mounting Amp to Board
I used the non-slip rug pad was used as vibration dampening between the bottom of the amp and the top of the board. This was the cheapest "squishy" thing I could find at Lowes. I folded the pad so there were 4 layers and cut to the dimensions of the amp.With the way I shaped my board, it was a little too narrow to use the mounting holes in the metal brackets for the Rockville amp, so I drilled a new hole in each bracket that was closer to the amp. The 3/16" x 1/2" x 1/16" washers between the bottom of the amp mounting bracket at top of the board. This served two purposes, first as a bridge between the bracket and the board because there is a gap from the rug pad, and as vibration isolation for the bracket on the board.
The 5/8" Black Chromate Pan Head Phillips Wood Screws are used to secure the amp to the board. Any 1/2" to 5/8" pan head wood screw would work here, I just wanted black ones to match. You could use the screws that came with the amp but with a 3/4" thick board, they would protrude out the bottom and I would advise against that.
https://i.imgur.com/yPp83eh.jpeg
https://i.imgur.com/rs6J87z.jpeg
Amp Wiring - Power
For power, I tapped off the 12V socket, which is switched power, so the amp will turn off when the car turns off.To make this a non-invasive install, I used a pair of 3-way spade piggyback connectors that go between the spade terminals on the back of the 12V outlet and the car harness. I then used nylon insulated female crimp spade terminal to connect to the piggyback connector. I am not using this connection for ground (covered in next step), but to not have a completed exposed connector, I put an unused crimp terminal on the ground side piggyback.
On the car harness for the 12V socket, the wires are as follows:
- Blue = +12V
- Black = Ground
Amp Wiring - Ground
Instead of using the ground wire off the 12V socket harness, I used a crimp fork terminal and placed it between the metal amp bracket of the car and the rubber washer. A crimp ring terminal would be better than a fork terminal, but I didn't have one in the correct size on hand.Make sure you sand off the paint immediately around the mounting hole on the metal bracket so you have a proper ground connection.
Rockville SS8P/SS10P Amp Wiring - High Level Inputs
The repair harness (Part # 18790 03730AS) costs $25 with shipping from Spare Korea, but is well worth the money to make this a completely reversible install with no cutting or splicing of the factory wiring harness.On the repair harness with the locking hole in the repair connector facing upwards, this is the order of connections from Left to Right when using the Rockville SS8P/SS10P. Note that the amp side wiring colors may vary for other amp models.
- Car Left (Red) -> SS8P/SS10P Grey/Black (R-)
- Car Left Middle (Pink) -> SS8P/SS10p Grey (R+)
- Car Right Middle (White) -> SS8P/SS10P White/Black (L-)
- Car Right (Brown) -> SS8P/SS10P White (L+)
Important Note: Make sure that "Auto On" is turned on for the amp (button pushed in for Rockville SS8P/SS10P). No remote wire gets used for this install so Auto On is required for the amp to know to turn itself on when it received a high level signal from the radio.
Routing the Bass Remote
I mounted my remote on the left driver side knee bolster underneath the button panel using self-stick velcro.Route the remote cable underneath the left side trunk trim panel and into the cabin behind the seat. Proceed with routing the cable down towards the floor and up the driver's side of the car, tucking it underneath all of the floor trim panels, then underneath the driver's side footwell trim panel and finally up in front of the fuse box.
https://i.imgur.com/1lzMWQo.jpg
https://i.imgur.com/E9lPBTZ.jpg
The Rockville bass remote comes with a flat ribbon cable and it squeezes behind the fuse panel cover even without any modifications to the cover. It does pinch the cable slightly but not enough to pierce the outter jacket of the cable, you can see the indentations in the above picture.
I opted to trim out a bit of the plastic on the back side of the fuse cover using an x-acto knife, then sanded all the rough edges smoothly. I also lightly sanded the top edge of the panel so smooth it out. This helps with the amount the fuse panel cover squeezes into the remote cable but doesn't modify the cover in a way that anyone would know from the visible face of the panel.
https://i.imgur.com/NKUKGM8.jpg
Miscellaneous Notes
I removed the large sound dampening pad from the bottom of the plastic amp area cover and put it at the bottom of the amp area. I left the small sound dampening pads on the side covers.In the area were the power and bass remote cable runs over trunk floor, there are a couple open holes that have sharp edges. I covered this area with a few layers of gaffers tape as it's a nice soft cloth material that removes easily, but a few layers of any other tape (duct, electrical, masking, painters) will yield the same effect. I also tape those two wires down to keep them from moving around.
Ideally you run these cables up underneath the rear trunk trim panel and into the left side trim panel so they are completely hidden when the area cover is removed and you don't have to do all the tape padding. In my case, the bass remote cable was a few inches too short in total as I had ran it, and I didn't feel like pulling it out again to re-run to try and get the extra length needed. Everything is covered by the amp area cover so this was good enough for me.
The connector from the car to the amp and repair harness ends up resting in an area where it's against the metal of the trunk area. To prevent this from making noises while driving, I wrapped the connectors in a piece of paper towel and taped the towel to itself. When the rear trunk trim piece is installed, this will get pressed between the chassis and the sound dampening pad on the back of the trim piece.
Make It Clean
This is all optional, but everyone likes a clean install, right? Dress the cables using your preferred wire loom of choice. I had some of the flexible plastic loom on hand, and 1/2" inner diameter was big enough to contain all the cables. If using this type of loom, cut out small notches where cables exit the loom in areas other than the open ends, this will prevent the spline of the loom from rubbing against the cable jacket.https://i.imgur.com/uPT2Fks.jpg
2024.05.20 18:52 Harris-Y The Book of Harris-y
The Book of Harris-y
(Religion as it should be)
by Zachary Harris
(cc) (NC) (ND) by Zachary Harris
May be copied, distributed, or displayed, verbatim only. non-commercial, not derivative works nor remixes.
First edition May 2024
Chapter 1 - What's in a name
Chapter 2 - A bunch of rules
Chapter 3 - Secrete origins
Chapter 4 - The end
Chapter 5 - Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
Chapter 6 - The 2000 year war
Chapter 7 - Humans and gods
Chapter 8 - Parables
Chapter 9 - Feedback
Chapter
CHAPTER 1
What's in a name
Some religions are named after it's main prophet. Christianity is named after christ. Buddhism is named after Budda.
I, Zach Harris, dub this religion HARRISy.
Where is it written that a religion can't have a sense of humor?
HARRISy is not a spoof or sarcasm.
But any religion without a sense of humor, absolutely NEEDS to be ridiculed.
I was raised in christianity. So most of my criticism will be aimed at the Abrahamic religions.
I intend to build harrisy on logic and reason. Not the superstition, lies, and, threats that the Abrahamic religions are built on.
As an alternative for conscientious objectors caught in the religious wars (see chapter 6).
Deities are not really necessary for inspiration or religion. An all-powerful creator wouldn't need the help or adulation of puny mortals.
Only cults and human puppet masters need that. So we leave deities to their own devises. They ought to be up to it.
Harrisy is a religion about/for humans, as religions should be.
My leadership skills suck. So I will avoid leading, to avoid becoming a cult.
Chapter 2
A bunch of rules
Everybody hates rules. But let's establish what Harrisy stands for.
10 rules is a nice round number. But when the first four are about loyalty to the cult, You have to question who the rules are meant to benefit.
The christian 'commandments' only benefit the christian cult. The commandments don't even benefit their god.
A true all-powerful, immortal, creator god, would not need human worship or loyalty. The same as humans don't need the worship of ants.
We don't make rules for ants to follow. Just stay out of our way. The Abrahamic god treats us like ants. Either ignores or steps on us. It was his cults that made the 'commandments', not their god.
(more about that in chapter 7)
Harrisy has rules to live by, to benefit HUMANS:
A) Cause no harm.
B) Treat others the way you want to be treated.
Christianity calls this 'The Golden Rule' as if they invented it. But this was part of every culture and religion that humans ever created. (except Is-lame)
C) Do not kill. Do not kill humans.
Self preservation may override this, but killing is still a bad idea.
When killing animals for food, respect their sacrifice. Killing for sport is a bad idea.
D) People are not property.
Do not try to own others, in any sense.
You belong to yourself, do not give yourself away.
E) Do not steal.
You would not want to loose your stuff. (see B) Stealing harms others.
F) Do not lie. Avoid those who lie.
You would want to know the truth. To make better decisions. (see B)
G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
This applies to more than just sex. Do not force your religion on others. Do not force harrisy on others.
H) Do not shit wherever you please.
You don't want to slog through other people's shit.
(it's a metaphor.) Leave the world better than you found it.
I) Guard your privacy. Respect the privacy of others.
Beware of others who might use info against you. Or might unduly profit off you.
We have no rules about loyalty. We understand loyalties change. Just be honest (rule E)
We have no rule specifically about Adultery. Adultery might be considered loyalty, which changes.
Or adultery might be considered stealing, stealing affection. (rule D)
Chapter 3
Secrete origins
No one knows how/why it all began. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
The answer night as well be 42.
Most religions make it a crime to ask questions about their creation myths. This promotes ignorance. Helps the cult, not the people.
We understand the 'scientific method'. Scientists ask questions and are willing to test and adapt to new info.
So, for now, we trust scientific conclusions about the beginnings.
The current best theories from science:
The universe started from what they humorously call 'The Big Bang', about 13.8 Billion years ago.
Many are curious about what came before that. But we find that to be irrelevant to our everyday life.
Some religions say their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it. But we owe them nothing.
The earth was formed about 4.5 Billion years ago.
Humans evolved from other critters over many, many, many Generations (not years).
Some religions claim their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it.
We do not owe Harrisy or any religion for our existence.
Chapter 4
The end
How does it all end?
No one knows. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
Christinity predicts a bad acid trip. (See Revaluations) Any day now. So buy your ticket to heaven early.
It's an obvious con, You sacrifice this life you already have, for the promise of another life they can't prove.
Science predicts 'Entropy'. Every atom in the universe will drift away from every other till they can't react any more.
But humans will be dead or evolved into something we can't recognize, by then. Too distant, time-wise, to worry about.
Your personal end? What happens when you die?
Most probably nothing.
Seems like every religion has a different 'afterlife'. They can't all be right. (but they can all be wrong)
You can't pick the one you want. If an 'afterlife' exists it is what it is. WE can't control it. No cult can control it.
The cults are telling you what you want to hear. So you give your CURRENT LIFE to their cult. The life that is certain, in exchange for an empty promise.
No guarantees, No refunds, You won't get your old life back if they are wrong (or lying).
Pascal's gamble is a sucker bet. It never pays out.
Harrisy aims to make This Current Life better, worth living for it's own sake. We give priority to This Current Life over any theoretical 'afterlife'.
Chapter 5
Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
What's the point of Sexual Taboos?
Why would an IMORTAL (non-sexual, non-reproducing) being give a damn?
For example in the christian cult:
*Masturbation is sin,
*Spilling your seed outside the womb is sin,
*Marrying outside the church is sin,
*Divorce is sin,
*Birth Control is sin,
*Abortion is sin,
*Marriages without offspring are invalid.
*Brand (circumcise) your males, so your females know who they are allowed to mate with,
And in Is-lame, Women are just sexual slaves.
Taken as a whole,
The only purpose served by sexual taboos, is to help the CULT out-populate rival cults.
A REAL "creator god" wouldn't give a damn. Or Wouldn't need our cooperation. it would just create more of us, as needed.
A REAL creator wouldn't threaten us, it would just change us.
Sexual Taboos are serving a cult, not a god.
Harrisy has only one sexual taboo:
Rule G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
Chapter 6
The 2000 year war
The Abrahamic religions have been at war with each other for about 2000 years. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.
But like some other religions, at all times attempting to be 'the one true religion'. And by their competition, doing more harm than good.
And the Abrahamic religions haven't even shown that the 'good' stuff needs their religion to get done.
They preach that it is somehow noble or their duty to spread their faith. ("Onward Christian Soldiers")
There are dangers associated with proselytism and/or evangelicalism:
(Please note - I had help with the following)
Focus on Conversion over Service:
Proselytism/evangelicalism prioritizes conversion goals over humanitarian or service-oriented activities.
This undermines the credibility and effectiveness of religious organizations engaged in charitable work,
as it is perceived as conditional or insincere.
Dogmatism and Exclusivity:
Evangelicalism/proselytism promotes a rigid, dogmatic interpretation of religious beliefs that excludes other perspectives.
This exclusivity leads to intolerance of differing viewpoints and hinders constructive dialogue and cooperation with people of other faiths or worldviews.
Coercion and Manipulation:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves coercion, manipulation, or exploitation of vulnerable individuals,
such as offering material incentives or exploiting power differentials to induce conversion.
This raises ethical concerns about respect for autonomy and informed consent.
Political Activism:
Evangelicalism/proselytism has been associated with political movements that prioritize specific social or moral issues, leading to controversy and polarization.
this politicization blurs the lines between religion and politics, compromising the integrity of both.
Interfaith Tensions:
Proselytism/evangelicalism contributes to interfaith tensions and conflicts, especially when it is aggressive or disrespectful to members of other religious communities.
It will undermine efforts to foster mutual respect, understanding, and cooperation among different faith traditions.
Fragmentation of Communities:
Proselytism/evangelicalism leads to the fragmentation or division of communities, particularly in contexts where multiple religious groups coexist.
This creates social tensions and weaken social cohesion, especially when proselytism is conducted in a confrontational or divisive manner.
Proselytization and Missionary Work:
We are concerned about aggressive or coercive methods used in proselytization/evangelicalism efforts,
especially when targeting vulnerable populations or in multicultural contexts.
This leads to cultural imperialism or disrespect for the autonomy of individuals and communities.
Cultural Insensitivity:
Proselytism/evangelicalism disregards or disrespects the cultural and religious traditions of the target community.
This leads to cultural imperialism or colonialism, especially when proselytism/evangelicalism is conducted in contexts where there is a history of exploitation or marginalization.
Misrepresentation or Simplification of Beliefs:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves oversimplification or misrepresentation of religious beliefs and practices in order to make them more appealing to potential converts.
This leads to misunderstandings or misconceptions about the beliefs and traditions of the proselytizing religion.
For these reasons we conscientious objectors to the religious war, need an uncompetitive religion like Harris-y.
But don't push it.
Chapter 7
Humans and gods
Why do human religions have gods that are all too human?
A creator of everything that needs humans to wright/publish a holy book?
An all powerful god who needs humans to promote him?
An all powerful god with a vindictive human sized ego?
An immortal who is obsessed with human reproduction?
An all powerful god who needs humans more than we need him?
Any actual god wouldn't need human religion.
Harrisy serves humans, not gods.
Chapter 8
Parables
Corn In A Cow Patty.
Finding truth in the Abrahamic holy books,
is like finding corn in a cow patty.
Sure there are some good kernels in there,
but is it really worth digging through the shit to find them?
You can find uncontaminated kernels of truth anywhere.
Chapter 9
Feedback
Feedback should be sent to: zachharris@mail2hell.com
Don't expect a timely reply.
submitted by Harris-Y to SecularHumanism [link] [comments]
(Religion as it should be)
by Zachary Harris
May be copied, distributed, or displayed, verbatim only. non-commercial, not derivative works nor remixes.
First edition May 2024
Chapter 2 - A bunch of rules
Chapter 3 - Secrete origins
Chapter 4 - The end
Chapter 5 - Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
Chapter 6 - The 2000 year war
Chapter 7 - Humans and gods
Chapter 8 - Parables
Chapter 9 - Feedback
Chapter
What's in a name
Some religions are named after it's main prophet. Christianity is named after christ. Buddhism is named after Budda.
I, Zach Harris, dub this religion HARRISy.
Where is it written that a religion can't have a sense of humor?
HARRISy is not a spoof or sarcasm.
But any religion without a sense of humor, absolutely NEEDS to be ridiculed.
I was raised in christianity. So most of my criticism will be aimed at the Abrahamic religions.
I intend to build harrisy on logic and reason. Not the superstition, lies, and, threats that the Abrahamic religions are built on.
As an alternative for conscientious objectors caught in the religious wars (see chapter 6).
Deities are not really necessary for inspiration or religion. An all-powerful creator wouldn't need the help or adulation of puny mortals.
Only cults and human puppet masters need that. So we leave deities to their own devises. They ought to be up to it.
Harrisy is a religion about/for humans, as religions should be.
My leadership skills suck. So I will avoid leading, to avoid becoming a cult.
A bunch of rules
Everybody hates rules. But let's establish what Harrisy stands for.
10 rules is a nice round number. But when the first four are about loyalty to the cult, You have to question who the rules are meant to benefit.
The christian 'commandments' only benefit the christian cult. The commandments don't even benefit their god.
A true all-powerful, immortal, creator god, would not need human worship or loyalty. The same as humans don't need the worship of ants.
We don't make rules for ants to follow. Just stay out of our way. The Abrahamic god treats us like ants. Either ignores or steps on us. It was his cults that made the 'commandments', not their god.
(more about that in chapter 7)
Harrisy has rules to live by, to benefit HUMANS:
A) Cause no harm.
B) Treat others the way you want to be treated.
Christianity calls this 'The Golden Rule' as if they invented it. But this was part of every culture and religion that humans ever created. (except Is-lame)
C) Do not kill. Do not kill humans.
Self preservation may override this, but killing is still a bad idea.
When killing animals for food, respect their sacrifice. Killing for sport is a bad idea.
D) People are not property.
Do not try to own others, in any sense.
You belong to yourself, do not give yourself away.
E) Do not steal.
You would not want to loose your stuff. (see B) Stealing harms others.
F) Do not lie. Avoid those who lie.
You would want to know the truth. To make better decisions. (see B)
G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
This applies to more than just sex. Do not force your religion on others. Do not force harrisy on others.
H) Do not shit wherever you please.
You don't want to slog through other people's shit.
(it's a metaphor.) Leave the world better than you found it.
I) Guard your privacy. Respect the privacy of others.
Beware of others who might use info against you. Or might unduly profit off you.
We have no rules about loyalty. We understand loyalties change. Just be honest (rule E)
We have no rule specifically about Adultery. Adultery might be considered loyalty, which changes.
Or adultery might be considered stealing, stealing affection. (rule D)
Secrete origins
No one knows how/why it all began. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
The answer night as well be 42.
Most religions make it a crime to ask questions about their creation myths. This promotes ignorance. Helps the cult, not the people.
We understand the 'scientific method'. Scientists ask questions and are willing to test and adapt to new info.
So, for now, we trust scientific conclusions about the beginnings.
The current best theories from science:
The universe started from what they humorously call 'The Big Bang', about 13.8 Billion years ago.
Many are curious about what came before that. But we find that to be irrelevant to our everyday life.
Some religions say their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it. But we owe them nothing.
The earth was formed about 4.5 Billion years ago.
Humans evolved from other critters over many, many, many Generations (not years).
Some religions claim their god did it so they can claim payment/gratitude/worship for it.
We do not owe Harrisy or any religion for our existence.
The end
How does it all end?
No one knows. Anyone who says they know, for certain, is lying.
Christinity predicts a bad acid trip. (See Revaluations) Any day now. So buy your ticket to heaven early.
It's an obvious con, You sacrifice this life you already have, for the promise of another life they can't prove.
Science predicts 'Entropy'. Every atom in the universe will drift away from every other till they can't react any more.
But humans will be dead or evolved into something we can't recognize, by then. Too distant, time-wise, to worry about.
Your personal end? What happens when you die?
Most probably nothing.
Seems like every religion has a different 'afterlife'. They can't all be right. (but they can all be wrong)
You can't pick the one you want. If an 'afterlife' exists it is what it is. WE can't control it. No cult can control it.
The cults are telling you what you want to hear. So you give your CURRENT LIFE to their cult. The life that is certain, in exchange for an empty promise.
No guarantees, No refunds, You won't get your old life back if they are wrong (or lying).
Pascal's gamble is a sucker bet. It never pays out.
Harrisy aims to make This Current Life better, worth living for it's own sake. We give priority to This Current Life over any theoretical 'afterlife'.
Everybody's favorite topic: SEX
What's the point of Sexual Taboos?
Why would an IMORTAL (non-sexual, non-reproducing) being give a damn?
For example in the christian cult:
*Masturbation is sin,
*Spilling your seed outside the womb is sin,
*Marrying outside the church is sin,
*Divorce is sin,
*Birth Control is sin,
*Abortion is sin,
*Marriages without offspring are invalid.
*Brand (circumcise) your males, so your females know who they are allowed to mate with,
And in Is-lame, Women are just sexual slaves.
Taken as a whole,
The only purpose served by sexual taboos, is to help the CULT out-populate rival cults.
A REAL "creator god" wouldn't give a damn. Or Wouldn't need our cooperation. it would just create more of us, as needed.
A REAL creator wouldn't threaten us, it would just change us.
Sexual Taboos are serving a cult, not a god.
Harrisy has only one sexual taboo:
Rule G) Do not rape.
Do not force yourself on others. Your pleasures are not more important than other people's.
The 2000 year war
The Abrahamic religions have been at war with each other for about 2000 years. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.
But like some other religions, at all times attempting to be 'the one true religion'. And by their competition, doing more harm than good.
And the Abrahamic religions haven't even shown that the 'good' stuff needs their religion to get done.
They preach that it is somehow noble or their duty to spread their faith. ("Onward Christian Soldiers")
There are dangers associated with proselytism and/or evangelicalism:
(Please note - I had help with the following)
Focus on Conversion over Service:
Proselytism/evangelicalism prioritizes conversion goals over humanitarian or service-oriented activities.
This undermines the credibility and effectiveness of religious organizations engaged in charitable work,
as it is perceived as conditional or insincere.
Dogmatism and Exclusivity:
Evangelicalism/proselytism promotes a rigid, dogmatic interpretation of religious beliefs that excludes other perspectives.
This exclusivity leads to intolerance of differing viewpoints and hinders constructive dialogue and cooperation with people of other faiths or worldviews.
Coercion and Manipulation:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves coercion, manipulation, or exploitation of vulnerable individuals,
such as offering material incentives or exploiting power differentials to induce conversion.
This raises ethical concerns about respect for autonomy and informed consent.
Political Activism:
Evangelicalism/proselytism has been associated with political movements that prioritize specific social or moral issues, leading to controversy and polarization.
this politicization blurs the lines between religion and politics, compromising the integrity of both.
Interfaith Tensions:
Proselytism/evangelicalism contributes to interfaith tensions and conflicts, especially when it is aggressive or disrespectful to members of other religious communities.
It will undermine efforts to foster mutual respect, understanding, and cooperation among different faith traditions.
Fragmentation of Communities:
Proselytism/evangelicalism leads to the fragmentation or division of communities, particularly in contexts where multiple religious groups coexist.
This creates social tensions and weaken social cohesion, especially when proselytism is conducted in a confrontational or divisive manner.
Proselytization and Missionary Work:
We are concerned about aggressive or coercive methods used in proselytization/evangelicalism efforts,
especially when targeting vulnerable populations or in multicultural contexts.
This leads to cultural imperialism or disrespect for the autonomy of individuals and communities.
Cultural Insensitivity:
Proselytism/evangelicalism disregards or disrespects the cultural and religious traditions of the target community.
This leads to cultural imperialism or colonialism, especially when proselytism/evangelicalism is conducted in contexts where there is a history of exploitation or marginalization.
Misrepresentation or Simplification of Beliefs:
Proselytism/evangelicalism involves oversimplification or misrepresentation of religious beliefs and practices in order to make them more appealing to potential converts.
This leads to misunderstandings or misconceptions about the beliefs and traditions of the proselytizing religion.
For these reasons we conscientious objectors to the religious war, need an uncompetitive religion like Harris-y.
But don't push it.
Humans and gods
Why do human religions have gods that are all too human?
A creator of everything that needs humans to wright/publish a holy book?
An all powerful god who needs humans to promote him?
An all powerful god with a vindictive human sized ego?
An immortal who is obsessed with human reproduction?
An all powerful god who needs humans more than we need him?
Any actual god wouldn't need human religion.
Harrisy serves humans, not gods.
Parables
Corn In A Cow Patty.
Finding truth in the Abrahamic holy books,
is like finding corn in a cow patty.
Sure there are some good kernels in there,
but is it really worth digging through the shit to find them?
You can find uncontaminated kernels of truth anywhere.
Feedback
Feedback should be sent to: zachharris@mail2hell.com
Don't expect a timely reply.
2024.05.20 18:26 Complicated_Complex I Feel Like the Intersection of Multiple Minorities. Am I alone?
My life really is complicated and complex. After trying to just "fit in", I'm just starting to feel I'm too complicated and complex. I feel I will probably get judged and this post will crash and burn, which is why I created this new temporary account. Not really looking for advice on who I am, but just wanting to know if anyone comes close to relating. Here we go:
ASD Level 1 (self-diagnosed) Over the past few years, I finally put two and two together and realized I have autism, but it went undetected due to me learning how to mask quite well. There were always small indications, but while growing up me nor my parents didn't know much about autism. So finding out later in life explained a lot and helped me to understand myself better, but didn't really change much. I had innately found ways to cope with sensory overloads and found safe places to go to when I felt overwhelmed, I overcame some of the stemming I used to deal with by just becoming more self-aware, and I learned how to catch and respond to social cues better. But with all of that being said, when I realized I'd been masking all this time, I felt like everything in my life was fake and I was never truly happy about anything. I was just adapting to societal norms. Even though things looked great on the outside, it was all a facade. I hadn't discovered the real me yet.
OCD I think this kind of overlaps with the ASD, but I sometimes get agitated when certain things aren't done a certain way or at least in an orderly fashion. Everything I do is NOT neat and organized, but certain things are. I generally like to make a thorough plan and stick to it as much as possible. I'm not unreasonable about making adjustments, but with a thorough plan, audibles should be taken into consideration in the planning stage. I can get rather agitated when a well thought out plan is disregarded for an 'in the moment' replacement. I'm less OCD about HOW things are organized, but just prefer there is some organization that makes sense. But every now and then, I'll make superficial adjustments to things, because it didn't look right.
Introvert (INFJ-A) So it's not uncommon for people to be introverted, but I'm and INFJ-A. You can look it up at 16personalities.com for more information. But one of the traits of my personality type is that I look for friends like I'm searching for a soulmate. Meaning, I value platonic friendships just as much as romantic relationships. Unfortunately, many people don't always care for the depth of friendship I look for. In many cases, it involves me trying to connect with people of similar core beliefs, hobbies, and preferences. I think this is mainly because I've never really connected with someone on such a meaningful level as a close friend. So I strongly desire that. I'm also aware that this sounds very idealistic. But a lot of the complications and complexities start with the topics below.
Agnostic/Atheist Long story short, I grew up in a very religious family and church environment. It defined who I was for a good portion of my life. It made me be someone I'm not for many years. After too many years of my whole life being immersed in Christianity, I walked away from it and became agnostic atheist. Agnostic (dealing with knowledge), because I don't make any claims to 'know' there is or isn't a god or gods. Atheist (dealing with beliefs), because I'm not convinced there is a god or gods. Being the only Atheist in my family has been hard to say the least. All connections don't feel the same anymore and I feel completely disconnected. Same with friendships I had. I just feel alienated. This is an extreme abridged version of things, because the entire story and details are just too long, but the feeling of isolation is real and leads me to the next topic.
Black American Male Being a heterosexual black man in America is hard. The majority of black men in America are either religious or have some type of affiliation with a belief in a god. In many cases, a belief in the Christian god. The history of Christianity and black Americans should be enough to make a POC at least pause and consider that there is something wrong about it, but instead, many black Americans hold on to Christianity for dear life and reject the numerous and obvious issues. Ironically, I get it. As I shared earlier, I spent many years in the belief system and know it well. I know the mindset of how many people are thinking while in it. So I'm empathetic and annoyed at the same time. But with that being said, being an open (not militant) black atheist in a very religious area is a challenge. In many cases, I don't seem atheist enough, because I don't drink, smoke, vape, or do 420 products or other substances, and I've never been one to wear jewelry, get piercings, or even tattoos. Nothing is wrong with doing these things. I just never acquired a taste for any of them. I'm juat a friendly and rational guy. So as you can imagine, this makes me seem boring and plain. Maybe I am, but after years of being taught these things are bad and now having the freedom to do them, I'm genuinely just not interested. I'm also not really into sports. I understand them and can watch them, but I don't have any favorite teams or players or keep up with stats. I used to be into video games, but not so much anymore. I was raised to speak proper English so many of my classmates viewed me as a preppy goodie two shoe type that thought I was better than them. That wasn't the case, but that's all they could see. I didn't come from a rich family. Just from parents who knew how to manage their money well. I'm kind of a nerd at heart even though I probably don't look the part. I've just always been a little different.
Artist/Creative Many people that are artists or creatives experience this. Fans of your talent/work get so absorbed in liking WHAT you do, that they don't realize there's a human being with thoughts, feelings, opinions, and views about things behind the talent. I'll just say that I'm multi-talented in the arts. Musician, composer, sound designer, animator, motion graphics designer, voice talent, filmmaker, 3D modeling, etc. I do more, but I think you get the idea. This is the most dominant thing about me. I can do a lot of things. Even more on the technical side of things. So people appreciate that I'm somewhat of a Jack of all trades, but don't necessarily appreciate me. People know me for my talents. These things tend to overshadow ME, the person...the human being. People want to connect with me all the time, but rarely for reasons that would actually make me happy or be truly beneficial for me. If it's mutually beneficial and just business, that's cool. However, that's usually not the case. Plus, I think people feel I have this extraordinary personality since I do many thing with excellence. So I guess it's a let down when I'm just a normal plain guy that appreciates simplicity under all my 'flashy' talents.
Open Minded After becoming atheist, I saw the world for what it is. I stopped being a judgmental, prideful, hypocritical, bigot and embraced being an empath. I had judged people for so long in Christianity. When I found myself outside of this bubble I had been raised in for so long, it was humbling to be on the outside of it amongst the people I used to look down upon...including people that didn't go to a Christian based church, people that drank, smoked, clubbed, and had premarital sex, the lgbtq+ community, and of course, atheists. I was basically raised in a cult. There's no other way to say it. But after leaving, I just began to understand the real world so much better. But yeah, I wanted to apologize to so many people, but all I could do is be a better person moving forward. One thing I did was have conversations and build connections with people that are in the lgbtq+ community. I became friends with a gay guy. It was new for me, considering my previous belief was so anti lgbtq+, but we got along good. We're not best friends, but he is good people and we keep in contact. I also met a bi woman that educated me about ENM. I was so so so ignorant about ENM. She mentioned poly relationships and all I could think of was polygamy or threesomes...lol She explained to me the actual different types of poly and how they are ethical relationships. I guess I couldn't see the ethical part due to my previous Christian world view, but when I removed myself from that belief system, ENM made sense as an alternative to monogamous relationships. But I'm just saying all of this to say, I'm not the judgmental person I used to be. I'm still a work in progress, but I've come a long way from being very narrow minded. Which leads me to the next part.
Relationships/Family/Tribe So while not knowing I had ASD all this time, I managed to get married and have kids. I only looked up autism when our kids got diagnosed. But it all made sense. It's usually passed on by the male. But after leaving Christianity, the marriage got a bit bumpy, but we worked things out. It's not the marriage I envisioned I would have, but then again, I'm not the person I thought I would be 15 years ago. Fortunately, my wife isn't heavy on religious stuff, but we had to discuss some things to make it work. As shared earlier, family just made me feel isolated and like a guest around them. It's never going to be the same. The friends I thought I had are still in the belief I left and making new friends has been a nightmare. I've come to realize that I'm just very particular about the people I will allow in my life...men or women. Right now, I don't really have much of any women in my life. Mainly due to how the majority of society feels about marriage and opposite sex friendships. It's really exhausting. My wife has male and female friends. I'm not jealous. Those are her friends that she has bonds with. She's fine with me doing the same, but the combination of ASD, OCD, Introversion, an ex-Christian with an established reputation turned atheism, being a black male in America, being a creative, being married, having kids, being open minded, and not really having any close friends apparently just trips all red flags for people. I'm genuinely just wanting to find mutual close friendships. Basically I want to find my tribe. Whether it's just one person or a few. I want to feel like I fit in somewhere, because I don't right now. And if it's a woman, I'm not looking for a romantic relationship, but it's usually hard to convey that when you look for friends like you look for a soulmate.
Anyway, I know I'm not crazy, but I also realize that I may come off a little 'different' to people. Maybe even misunderstood. But I'm just wanting to know, are there any other people that feel like they are the intersection point of several minority groups that just makes life complicated and complex for you?
submitted by Complicated_Complex to autism [link] [comments]
ASD Level 1 (self-diagnosed) Over the past few years, I finally put two and two together and realized I have autism, but it went undetected due to me learning how to mask quite well. There were always small indications, but while growing up me nor my parents didn't know much about autism. So finding out later in life explained a lot and helped me to understand myself better, but didn't really change much. I had innately found ways to cope with sensory overloads and found safe places to go to when I felt overwhelmed, I overcame some of the stemming I used to deal with by just becoming more self-aware, and I learned how to catch and respond to social cues better. But with all of that being said, when I realized I'd been masking all this time, I felt like everything in my life was fake and I was never truly happy about anything. I was just adapting to societal norms. Even though things looked great on the outside, it was all a facade. I hadn't discovered the real me yet.
OCD I think this kind of overlaps with the ASD, but I sometimes get agitated when certain things aren't done a certain way or at least in an orderly fashion. Everything I do is NOT neat and organized, but certain things are. I generally like to make a thorough plan and stick to it as much as possible. I'm not unreasonable about making adjustments, but with a thorough plan, audibles should be taken into consideration in the planning stage. I can get rather agitated when a well thought out plan is disregarded for an 'in the moment' replacement. I'm less OCD about HOW things are organized, but just prefer there is some organization that makes sense. But every now and then, I'll make superficial adjustments to things, because it didn't look right.
Introvert (INFJ-A) So it's not uncommon for people to be introverted, but I'm and INFJ-A. You can look it up at 16personalities.com for more information. But one of the traits of my personality type is that I look for friends like I'm searching for a soulmate. Meaning, I value platonic friendships just as much as romantic relationships. Unfortunately, many people don't always care for the depth of friendship I look for. In many cases, it involves me trying to connect with people of similar core beliefs, hobbies, and preferences. I think this is mainly because I've never really connected with someone on such a meaningful level as a close friend. So I strongly desire that. I'm also aware that this sounds very idealistic. But a lot of the complications and complexities start with the topics below.
Agnostic/Atheist Long story short, I grew up in a very religious family and church environment. It defined who I was for a good portion of my life. It made me be someone I'm not for many years. After too many years of my whole life being immersed in Christianity, I walked away from it and became agnostic atheist. Agnostic (dealing with knowledge), because I don't make any claims to 'know' there is or isn't a god or gods. Atheist (dealing with beliefs), because I'm not convinced there is a god or gods. Being the only Atheist in my family has been hard to say the least. All connections don't feel the same anymore and I feel completely disconnected. Same with friendships I had. I just feel alienated. This is an extreme abridged version of things, because the entire story and details are just too long, but the feeling of isolation is real and leads me to the next topic.
Black American Male Being a heterosexual black man in America is hard. The majority of black men in America are either religious or have some type of affiliation with a belief in a god. In many cases, a belief in the Christian god. The history of Christianity and black Americans should be enough to make a POC at least pause and consider that there is something wrong about it, but instead, many black Americans hold on to Christianity for dear life and reject the numerous and obvious issues. Ironically, I get it. As I shared earlier, I spent many years in the belief system and know it well. I know the mindset of how many people are thinking while in it. So I'm empathetic and annoyed at the same time. But with that being said, being an open (not militant) black atheist in a very religious area is a challenge. In many cases, I don't seem atheist enough, because I don't drink, smoke, vape, or do 420 products or other substances, and I've never been one to wear jewelry, get piercings, or even tattoos. Nothing is wrong with doing these things. I just never acquired a taste for any of them. I'm juat a friendly and rational guy. So as you can imagine, this makes me seem boring and plain. Maybe I am, but after years of being taught these things are bad and now having the freedom to do them, I'm genuinely just not interested. I'm also not really into sports. I understand them and can watch them, but I don't have any favorite teams or players or keep up with stats. I used to be into video games, but not so much anymore. I was raised to speak proper English so many of my classmates viewed me as a preppy goodie two shoe type that thought I was better than them. That wasn't the case, but that's all they could see. I didn't come from a rich family. Just from parents who knew how to manage their money well. I'm kind of a nerd at heart even though I probably don't look the part. I've just always been a little different.
Artist/Creative Many people that are artists or creatives experience this. Fans of your talent/work get so absorbed in liking WHAT you do, that they don't realize there's a human being with thoughts, feelings, opinions, and views about things behind the talent. I'll just say that I'm multi-talented in the arts. Musician, composer, sound designer, animator, motion graphics designer, voice talent, filmmaker, 3D modeling, etc. I do more, but I think you get the idea. This is the most dominant thing about me. I can do a lot of things. Even more on the technical side of things. So people appreciate that I'm somewhat of a Jack of all trades, but don't necessarily appreciate me. People know me for my talents. These things tend to overshadow ME, the person...the human being. People want to connect with me all the time, but rarely for reasons that would actually make me happy or be truly beneficial for me. If it's mutually beneficial and just business, that's cool. However, that's usually not the case. Plus, I think people feel I have this extraordinary personality since I do many thing with excellence. So I guess it's a let down when I'm just a normal plain guy that appreciates simplicity under all my 'flashy' talents.
Open Minded After becoming atheist, I saw the world for what it is. I stopped being a judgmental, prideful, hypocritical, bigot and embraced being an empath. I had judged people for so long in Christianity. When I found myself outside of this bubble I had been raised in for so long, it was humbling to be on the outside of it amongst the people I used to look down upon...including people that didn't go to a Christian based church, people that drank, smoked, clubbed, and had premarital sex, the lgbtq+ community, and of course, atheists. I was basically raised in a cult. There's no other way to say it. But after leaving, I just began to understand the real world so much better. But yeah, I wanted to apologize to so many people, but all I could do is be a better person moving forward. One thing I did was have conversations and build connections with people that are in the lgbtq+ community. I became friends with a gay guy. It was new for me, considering my previous belief was so anti lgbtq+, but we got along good. We're not best friends, but he is good people and we keep in contact. I also met a bi woman that educated me about ENM. I was so so so ignorant about ENM. She mentioned poly relationships and all I could think of was polygamy or threesomes...lol She explained to me the actual different types of poly and how they are ethical relationships. I guess I couldn't see the ethical part due to my previous Christian world view, but when I removed myself from that belief system, ENM made sense as an alternative to monogamous relationships. But I'm just saying all of this to say, I'm not the judgmental person I used to be. I'm still a work in progress, but I've come a long way from being very narrow minded. Which leads me to the next part.
Relationships/Family/Tribe So while not knowing I had ASD all this time, I managed to get married and have kids. I only looked up autism when our kids got diagnosed. But it all made sense. It's usually passed on by the male. But after leaving Christianity, the marriage got a bit bumpy, but we worked things out. It's not the marriage I envisioned I would have, but then again, I'm not the person I thought I would be 15 years ago. Fortunately, my wife isn't heavy on religious stuff, but we had to discuss some things to make it work. As shared earlier, family just made me feel isolated and like a guest around them. It's never going to be the same. The friends I thought I had are still in the belief I left and making new friends has been a nightmare. I've come to realize that I'm just very particular about the people I will allow in my life...men or women. Right now, I don't really have much of any women in my life. Mainly due to how the majority of society feels about marriage and opposite sex friendships. It's really exhausting. My wife has male and female friends. I'm not jealous. Those are her friends that she has bonds with. She's fine with me doing the same, but the combination of ASD, OCD, Introversion, an ex-Christian with an established reputation turned atheism, being a black male in America, being a creative, being married, having kids, being open minded, and not really having any close friends apparently just trips all red flags for people. I'm genuinely just wanting to find mutual close friendships. Basically I want to find my tribe. Whether it's just one person or a few. I want to feel like I fit in somewhere, because I don't right now. And if it's a woman, I'm not looking for a romantic relationship, but it's usually hard to convey that when you look for friends like you look for a soulmate.
Anyway, I know I'm not crazy, but I also realize that I may come off a little 'different' to people. Maybe even misunderstood. But I'm just wanting to know, are there any other people that feel like they are the intersection point of several minority groups that just makes life complicated and complex for you?
2024.05.20 18:25 Twitch6r A Man Amongst the Stars 9
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*Knock* *Knock*
A soft knock gently woke me up from my dreamless slumber. When I opened my eyes, I was met with a pitch black expanse. I noted that the retina-destroying light bulb must have been turned off at some point. Feeling around, I could feel my body was less sore then it was the previous, what I’ve taken to calling sleep cycles, as it didn’t feel quite right to call anything night or day anymore.
Still, though, I could feel a distinct pang of pain that shot through me every time I tried to perform an action more complex than raising my right hand, while doing anything with my left was completely out of the picture. With apprehension, I crossed my right arm across my body to gently grope around my left in an attempt to find the part that was actually broken, but it was to no avail, as all I achieved in doing so was hurting myself.
*Knock* *Knock*
Oh right, the door. Were they waiting for me to allow them in? In that case, this definitely isn’t Guard.
“You can come in.” I yelled hesitantly.
The door flew open at such speed that I wouldn't be surprised if the door fell off its space hinges. In the doorway, a figure stood. I couldn’t quite identify their features, but their silhouette was enough to identify the fact they weren’t too tall, by space standards, of course. They still appeared to be easily 6 foot, but at this point I could barely even consider that height tall. No, what actually grabbed my attention was the several appendages that were attached to the top of their head, and that were currently freely swaying in the wind, like seaweed in the ocean. One was currently wrapped around the door knob, clueing me into the fact they were also completely autonomous. Honestly, they reminded me a lot of… tentacles. Shit.
“S-Sorry.” Their voice and movement was shaky and erratic. They walked inside the room before quickly closing the door behind them, their features now much more visible, including the dark yellow coat and pitch black pants they wore. The gray skin across their slightly, to be nice I’ll just say chubby, body was the first notable feature. The second was the feathery gills almost identical to those of axolotl’s on the side of their head. Their face was soft, like the rest of the body, with a giant pair of pink, egg-shaped eyes that hadn't yet left the floor. Their bottom and top lip were not long enough to connect, leading to their mouth being permanently open. Their cone shaped head started pointed at the chin area, and widened out until it was big enough to accommodate the multitude of appendages on their head. They truly looked like an evolved axolotl, sans tail. “I’ve been working out recently, g-guess I don’t know my own strengths anymore.” They nervously chuckled while rubbing their webbed hands together.
“Uh, it’s alright. I mean, it’s not my door so I don’t mind.” I said in an attempt to comfort them. “No shame in working out. It’s clearly effective, right?” At this, the feathery gills adorning their head pulsed slightly in a pink light, before quickly returning to their non-luminescent state. For the first time since they came into the room, they looked at me.
“A-are you the Hum’un.”
“Who are you?” I tried not to be rude, as so far they had given me no reason to be, but it was also imperative I didn’t let my guard down. Better safe than sorry.
“Doctor!” They practically yelled, before seemingly becoming embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Doctor, a-as in, that’s wh-what I am. For you. That is.” Christ, and I thought I was nervous.
“What would a doctor of a different species do for me? We don't exactly share the same body.” I tried to not be confrontational, but at the same time, it was a real concern that I knew might impede any help I could receive.
“N-no worries, I’m no regular physician, I’m a trained interspecies specialist, specifically employed to help with whatever ailments might have befallen you. I have certifications in 7 different medical departments, over 8 polar cycles in non-primary education, have treated all sorts of species throughout the galaxy, almost-” I tuned out their accomplishments by this point, letting the ramblings just wash over me. They. I’ve just been saying they as a placeholder until I could figure out their gender, but maybe it was silly to assume an alien would always be male or female, especially considering this probably wasn’t even a mammal, judging by their aquatic look and the fact they lacked any mammary tissue. I mean, so do I, but… whatever. They would probably be fine. “Isn’t that impressive?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah it is. Great job.” I gave a reassuring smile that they appeared to have appreciated. “So, do we begin now, or?” I cut myself off to give them an opening to talk, as it didn’t seem in their nature to have the confidence to initiate.
“Y-yes, of course.” They walked up to the side of my bed before continuing. “I have been tasked with going over any injuries you may have sustained during your last mission. Is this correct?”
“I was hurt pretty bad, yes.”
“Great! Not because you were hurt, of course, just as in, you know.” The gills pulsated again.
“Calm down, I get it.”
“Mhm, of course.” They looked around before continuing. “Before we begin, mind answering a couple survey questions? It won't take long.”
“Questions? Really?” My patience for any sort of questions had run thin after yesterday's fiasco, and it wasn’t something I wanted repeated.
“J-just a couple regarding who you are. It will help me treat you b-better.”
“Fine.”
“Perfect!” They ruffled through coat pockets using the appendages on their head before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Firstly, are you a mammal? Yes or no.”
“Yes.” They emerged a small circle shaped object from their pocket before gliding it gently across the paper, leaving a symbol containing a large circle on the outside with different sized circles on the inside..
“Second, what is your gender?”
“Male.” Again, the object gently flew across the paper.
“Thirdly, does your blood contain any chemicals?”
“Mainly copper, but also some other metals like iron.” I explained. I hoped they wouldn’t ask any questions about my anatomy more complex than that, as my limited biology knowledge wouldn’t get me very far. “Also oxygen. A lot of oxygen.” With one last swipe on the paper, they folded the paper back up before stuffing it back into a pocket.
“Thank you so much for cooperating! You know, you’re nowhere near as aggressive as they said you would be.” The doctor spoke absentmindedly as the appendages began to pull out instruments from their pockets.
“Really? They labeled me as “aggressive?” Maybe if they didn’t try to tear me down at every opportunity, I wouldn’t have a reason to be “aggressive.” Have they ever thought about that?” I steadily raised my voice, making sure that anyone outside could hear me.
“No! Th-that's not it at all. They just implied it because injured animals are usually more aggressive. That’s all!” They sputtered in an attempt to reassure me.
“Animal? Fucking animal?” I muttered incredulously. That implication made me fume. “I’m not some stupid animal that broke its paw; some animal that would die in the wilderness without aid. If I was left in that forest, guess what? I would have found a way to survive. My species was built to survive.” In an attempt to show the doctor what I meant, I decided, for the first time since I was getting knocked around by drones, to move on my legs. I carelessly moved my legs off the bed before gaining enough ambition to jump off.
“Y-You really shouldn’t do that!” The doctor warned, taking a step back to avoid my wake. As I was too focused trying to grow accustomed to the weakness in my legs, I ignored them. I couldn’t stand on my own, instead opting to use the support of the bedside desk as support. Whether this was because I hadn’t used my legs in over a day, or because of any sort of injuries I may have sustained, I wasn’t sure, but ultimately it didn’t matter, as the result was still the same. “Please, sit back-”
“SHUT UP!” They jumped back, almost falling over in the process. Damn it, I didn’t mean to yell, it was just the strain I was putting on myself that made it hard to regulate my volume. Still, it was obvious what they were implying through their facade of “concern.” “I can, ugh, I can do this, back off!” I swung my arm forward for no real reason. They were too far away to hit, being more off a signal to not get near. I took another step.”
“Please, don’t come any closer.” Their voice was soft but at the same time obviously urgent. “You’ll get yourself hur-”
“That’s what you think.” I took another step. “You think you already know me.” Another step. Unfiltered resentment spilled out of me as I continued to move forward, despite the pain in my legs. “You don’t know anything about me. You, no, they all think they know what makes me tick. How to keep me down.”
“Don’t take another step.” Their appendages going wild, each either wrapping around themself for protection, or sticking forward at me. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Try it.”
“W-what?”
“Try it. Try to hurt me. You lay even a single one of those tentacles on me, I will rip each one off your stout head, Axolotl.” With one final step, I was now far enough away to no longer reach the desk, but even without it, I stood. “So try it, because you have no idea what I’m cap-AGHHHH!” Before I could react, an invisible stream of electricity shot out from a device one of the appendages was holding, sending bolts of pure lightning through my veins.
The sudden pain was intense enough to make me blackout for a couple of seconds. Even after, my vision was still blurry, and all I could hear was a piercing ring. I could feel my legs give out from under me as I fruitlessly swung my arms in all directions to find something for support. This was unsuccessful, and in a moment, I was off my feet and cascading to the ground. I closed my eyes and braced myself for impact, for the feeling of smashing my already broken arm into the ground, but that feeling never came. Instead, I felt multiple firm, long limbs brace around my waist, my legs, and across my chest, keeping me upright.
My brain was too fried to be confused, to fight back, so instead I leaned into the appendages. They didn’t wrap around me tightly, just enough to keep me supported. They slithered across my surface, trying to find crooks in my body for better leverage, or so I assumed. Eventually, they found some appropriate spots to wrap around for the best support. It was comfortable for me. So comfortable, in fact, I didn’t even notice my feet leave the ground.
When I did, I didn’t even have the energy to react,simply going limp in their grasp. I was in the air for what felt like an eternity, which, in reality, was probably 30 seconds at most. I was enveloped by the feeling of my cushy bed. I was pressed into it with more force than was suitable, though I suppose it was a subliminal message to me that I shouldn’t try to leave it. The appendages untangled from my body and soon, all I could see, hear, and process was a faint ringing in my ear and blurred vision that left me in no position to even try and speak.
This lasted for several minutes as I was stuck between what felt like two planes of reality. It was a disorienting mess of stimuli that I had no way of understanding in the state I was in, like how seizures are described. Was I having a seizure?
Several more moments passed, and right as I started to consider that option seriously, my vision slowly began restoring itself around the edges. So did any physical sensation outside of the after shock, shortly afterward. My tongue still felt heavy in my mouth, though, and the taste of copper still lingered, similar to the taste of a bag of electrified pennies shoved down my throat.
That’s just about when I finally heard them again.
“-and I know I shouldn’t have but I got scared and again I’m sorry I didn’t know it was on full charge and I should have checked but also I should have never used it because I was capable of stopping you without it but I was scared and I was in no authority to use it and I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”
I attempted a response to the ramblings that had been going on for however long, but all that came out was a bemused grunt followed by a coughing fit. It wasn’t very effective in communicating anything, not even being loud enough to get their attention. So I tried again. “Sss.”
They jumped back at the loud hissing sound. “A-a-are you okay?”
“Ss-shut up.” I practically gurgled out from the depths of my throat. “You talk too much.”
“O-oh th-thank goodness you’re ok. I’m so sorry about this. I shouldn’t have shot the Tuca’p, it was brazzen and unprofessional of me. I should have done something, anything other then-”
“Shut up.” Their expression dropped. “Quit making so many excuses, you don’t need any. I was being a dick to you, which you didn’t deserve. You were only reciting what they said. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.” Despite everything, I’m glad I never lost the ability to find humor in a facial expression, because the one I was witnessing was priceless. I would have laughed if I’d remembered. “You know, you're not too bad.”
“I-I don’t-I’m not sure what it is-excuse me, I don’t… Thank you.” Their gills flushed a vibrant hue of pink light, filling the entire room for only a moment. “Thank you.”
I picked myself up from the groove in the bed. “Why were you here again?”
“Oh, right!” Instantly, the appendages shot in all directions, some grabbing tools from their pockets, off the desk, while two latched under my arms, and another around my waist. “Is this alright?”
“Sure.”
“Ok, perfect!” They got closer to me, really close, actually, and brought the tools along. “Now, firstly, I’m going to gently move your limbs, and you’re going to tell me if anything hurts, ok?”
“Understood.” Without further warning, the appendages wrapped around the base of my arm next to the shoulder and began to rhythmically shake them. Instantly, I felt a sharp pain in my left bicep. “Fuck.”
“Where?”
“Left. Left arm.”
“Can you use your right to show the afflicted area.” At this point, it was less of a question and more of a command. Without another word, I wriggled my right hand out of their grip and ran my fingers across the afflicted parts of my arm. This ended up consisting of the entirety of it from my shoulder to just before my hand. Damn, I must have really messed myself up.
“Right here.”
“Interesting.” The limbs suddenly left my arms and briefly went to my legs. “Anything?” They asked as they shook my legs firmly.
“No.”
“What about-” They cut themselves off while two appendages ran across my torso and body. As they went, they firmly pressed against me in another attempt to find any pain.
“I don’t think your going to find anything broken ther-shit!” The limbs immediately stopped at the point I made noise.
“Interesting.” They lightly pressed down on the spot, eliciting the same reaction from me.
“Mind telling me what's here?”
“As in bone structure? Well, on either side of my body I have 12 bones that wrap around the interior of myself. We call it a ribcage, ‘cause it’s like a cage.” It was weird to describe an aspect of the human body that is so ubiquitous that in any other circumstance, would not even require a second breath.
“From what I can feel,” they pressed down against the spot again for emphasis, “ It appears something is looser than the other bones around it. Is that normal?”
“No, I think I might have cracked a rib.”
“Will you heal on your own?”
“Aside from getting a limb chopped off, I can heal from just about anything given enough time.”
“Impressive.” They paused awkwardly like they were about to continue, but stopped before the words could leave their mouth, instead just hanging agape like a fish drowning in air. “”Y-you’re impressive.”
The last stutter made me realize how they were completely stutter-free for the entirety of the check-up. Turns out being good at a job brings out the confidence in someone. It was funny, ‘cause I could relate.
“I know.” I couldn’t help but give a smug smile. “Of course I know!”
“I’m glad.” From a coat pocket, they pulled out a small square with a sac full of a purple liquid on the back. On the front, small metal teeth lined the edges of the square, all of which protruded perfectly forward. “That being said, I have some medicine that will speed up the process. Now, if you’ll just stick out an arm.” The appendage slithered its way up the length of my arm and gripped tightly at the elbow. Without further pause, the strange square was pushed into my arm, and started to inject itself into my bloodstream.
The sensation was strange, feeling like an ice cold liquid was dumped directly into my veins. I flinched and yanked my arm back, the square unbothered by this sudden movement as it was completely dug into my arm.
“How is this going to help exactly?”
“The liquid should fuse with your blood cells and increase their proficiency. Y-You have blood cells, right?”
“Yes, I have blood cells. What doesn’t?”
“I don’t know, it's just you’re strange.”
“I know I am, a lot of people have been telling me that recently.” When the square was just about finished depositing the liquid, I yanked it out from my arm and threw it on the nearby desk. “A lot of people.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry The Council and their team haven't met your expectations of decency.” They spoke with a smooth tone that made it clear every word was carefully chosen. “And I’m sorry I contributed to that when I unintentionally disrespected you earlier. I never want anyone to feel that way. I know how it can feel.”
I didn’t respond, not because I understood them, or appreciated the apology, or the words that should have given me some sense of retribution, but because I had nothing to say. The words were phony, they rang hollow because I knew they had no worth whatsoever. What would I do with a sorry, and what did they even represent? That they cared? I think I could count the amount of people who have ever had genuine respect for me on one hand, and even then, that takes time. I have no reason to believe this one who I met 20 minutes ago had any reason to care, so I said nothing.
“W-well, I should be going now. I checked on all parts of your body, and judging by the amount of damage, you should be back up and running in barley a couple Anex’s, so I see no reason why you should worry.”
“Ok.” Their expression faltered, this time giving me no amusement. “Thanks.” I turned away from them, and proceeded to focus on the machines whirling next to me as a distraction until they left.
Finally, after a minute or so, I started to hear footsteps walk towards the door. Then, “You’re not what they say you are.”
“...”
“I know we just met, and I know we don’t know anything about each other but… I know you’re more than some aggressive fighter, more than what's under the surface.”
“...”
“I just… I just don’t believe they know that. Neither do you.” The door opened, signifying their exit. “By the way, I’ll deliver you some clothes next Anex.” And just like that, they were gone.
I didn’t understand that last statement for a minute, before looking down and suddenly remembering I was completely naked save for the crumpled blanket that lay on the floor. ‘Shit, have I been like this the entire time?’ The embarrassment that filled me was immense, and honestly made me laugh with how I didn’t notice. It was enough to, briefly, distract me from what they said to me.
I wanted to act like they had no effect on me, like with the apology, but for some reason I just couldn’t. The words clung to me, and I couldn’t help but ponder them. It was only when I reminded myself of the fact we had only briefly interacted, and that they had no knowledge of me as a person, that I threw the statement to the side to forget about. ‘First impressions are often misleading.’
They were interesting, that's for sure, but they quickly left my mind. What replaced it was the persistent thought that I was weak for rotting in this bed the past couple days. Sure I needed to heal, but by this point, it was plenty. I knew I needed to make myself feel better, and the only way I could was by proving those days of rest meant something. To prove this, I was going to walk.
I had already done it, but that was done for a different reason, and I wanted to prove it wasn’t a one time thing. So I scooted off the bed and with a deep breath, I put both legs on the ground. The immediate pain I felt made me question how I was even able to do it the first time. Still I didn’t let it deter me, and with one step in front of the other, I moved. I moved forward, not gracefully, not quickly, but I moved forward, like I was taught to do.
I touched the wall on the other side of the room and briefly rested against it for support, before walking back to the bed, then back to the wall, over, and over, and over again. The repetition showed it was worth it, showed that I was, in fact, a fighter.
‘Ha, shows what they know.’
submitted by Twitch6r to HFY [link] [comments]
*Knock* *Knock*
A soft knock gently woke me up from my dreamless slumber. When I opened my eyes, I was met with a pitch black expanse. I noted that the retina-destroying light bulb must have been turned off at some point. Feeling around, I could feel my body was less sore then it was the previous, what I’ve taken to calling sleep cycles, as it didn’t feel quite right to call anything night or day anymore.
Still, though, I could feel a distinct pang of pain that shot through me every time I tried to perform an action more complex than raising my right hand, while doing anything with my left was completely out of the picture. With apprehension, I crossed my right arm across my body to gently grope around my left in an attempt to find the part that was actually broken, but it was to no avail, as all I achieved in doing so was hurting myself.
*Knock* *Knock*
Oh right, the door. Were they waiting for me to allow them in? In that case, this definitely isn’t Guard.
“You can come in.” I yelled hesitantly.
The door flew open at such speed that I wouldn't be surprised if the door fell off its space hinges. In the doorway, a figure stood. I couldn’t quite identify their features, but their silhouette was enough to identify the fact they weren’t too tall, by space standards, of course. They still appeared to be easily 6 foot, but at this point I could barely even consider that height tall. No, what actually grabbed my attention was the several appendages that were attached to the top of their head, and that were currently freely swaying in the wind, like seaweed in the ocean. One was currently wrapped around the door knob, clueing me into the fact they were also completely autonomous. Honestly, they reminded me a lot of… tentacles. Shit.
“S-Sorry.” Their voice and movement was shaky and erratic. They walked inside the room before quickly closing the door behind them, their features now much more visible, including the dark yellow coat and pitch black pants they wore. The gray skin across their slightly, to be nice I’ll just say chubby, body was the first notable feature. The second was the feathery gills almost identical to those of axolotl’s on the side of their head. Their face was soft, like the rest of the body, with a giant pair of pink, egg-shaped eyes that hadn't yet left the floor. Their bottom and top lip were not long enough to connect, leading to their mouth being permanently open. Their cone shaped head started pointed at the chin area, and widened out until it was big enough to accommodate the multitude of appendages on their head. They truly looked like an evolved axolotl, sans tail. “I’ve been working out recently, g-guess I don’t know my own strengths anymore.” They nervously chuckled while rubbing their webbed hands together.
“Uh, it’s alright. I mean, it’s not my door so I don’t mind.” I said in an attempt to comfort them. “No shame in working out. It’s clearly effective, right?” At this, the feathery gills adorning their head pulsed slightly in a pink light, before quickly returning to their non-luminescent state. For the first time since they came into the room, they looked at me.
“A-are you the Hum’un.”
“Who are you?” I tried not to be rude, as so far they had given me no reason to be, but it was also imperative I didn’t let my guard down. Better safe than sorry.
“Doctor!” They practically yelled, before seemingly becoming embarrassed. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Doctor, a-as in, that’s wh-what I am. For you. That is.” Christ, and I thought I was nervous.
“What would a doctor of a different species do for me? We don't exactly share the same body.” I tried to not be confrontational, but at the same time, it was a real concern that I knew might impede any help I could receive.
“N-no worries, I’m no regular physician, I’m a trained interspecies specialist, specifically employed to help with whatever ailments might have befallen you. I have certifications in 7 different medical departments, over 8 polar cycles in non-primary education, have treated all sorts of species throughout the galaxy, almost-” I tuned out their accomplishments by this point, letting the ramblings just wash over me. They. I’ve just been saying they as a placeholder until I could figure out their gender, but maybe it was silly to assume an alien would always be male or female, especially considering this probably wasn’t even a mammal, judging by their aquatic look and the fact they lacked any mammary tissue. I mean, so do I, but… whatever. They would probably be fine. “Isn’t that impressive?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah it is. Great job.” I gave a reassuring smile that they appeared to have appreciated. “So, do we begin now, or?” I cut myself off to give them an opening to talk, as it didn’t seem in their nature to have the confidence to initiate.
“Y-yes, of course.” They walked up to the side of my bed before continuing. “I have been tasked with going over any injuries you may have sustained during your last mission. Is this correct?”
“I was hurt pretty bad, yes.”
“Great! Not because you were hurt, of course, just as in, you know.” The gills pulsated again.
“Calm down, I get it.”
“Mhm, of course.” They looked around before continuing. “Before we begin, mind answering a couple survey questions? It won't take long.”
“Questions? Really?” My patience for any sort of questions had run thin after yesterday's fiasco, and it wasn’t something I wanted repeated.
“J-just a couple regarding who you are. It will help me treat you b-better.”
“Fine.”
“Perfect!” They ruffled through coat pockets using the appendages on their head before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. “Firstly, are you a mammal? Yes or no.”
“Yes.” They emerged a small circle shaped object from their pocket before gliding it gently across the paper, leaving a symbol containing a large circle on the outside with different sized circles on the inside..
“Second, what is your gender?”
“Male.” Again, the object gently flew across the paper.
“Thirdly, does your blood contain any chemicals?”
“Mainly copper, but also some other metals like iron.” I explained. I hoped they wouldn’t ask any questions about my anatomy more complex than that, as my limited biology knowledge wouldn’t get me very far. “Also oxygen. A lot of oxygen.” With one last swipe on the paper, they folded the paper back up before stuffing it back into a pocket.
“Thank you so much for cooperating! You know, you’re nowhere near as aggressive as they said you would be.” The doctor spoke absentmindedly as the appendages began to pull out instruments from their pockets.
“Really? They labeled me as “aggressive?” Maybe if they didn’t try to tear me down at every opportunity, I wouldn’t have a reason to be “aggressive.” Have they ever thought about that?” I steadily raised my voice, making sure that anyone outside could hear me.
“No! Th-that's not it at all. They just implied it because injured animals are usually more aggressive. That’s all!” They sputtered in an attempt to reassure me.
“Animal? Fucking animal?” I muttered incredulously. That implication made me fume. “I’m not some stupid animal that broke its paw; some animal that would die in the wilderness without aid. If I was left in that forest, guess what? I would have found a way to survive. My species was built to survive.” In an attempt to show the doctor what I meant, I decided, for the first time since I was getting knocked around by drones, to move on my legs. I carelessly moved my legs off the bed before gaining enough ambition to jump off.
“Y-You really shouldn’t do that!” The doctor warned, taking a step back to avoid my wake. As I was too focused trying to grow accustomed to the weakness in my legs, I ignored them. I couldn’t stand on my own, instead opting to use the support of the bedside desk as support. Whether this was because I hadn’t used my legs in over a day, or because of any sort of injuries I may have sustained, I wasn’t sure, but ultimately it didn’t matter, as the result was still the same. “Please, sit back-”
“SHUT UP!” They jumped back, almost falling over in the process. Damn it, I didn’t mean to yell, it was just the strain I was putting on myself that made it hard to regulate my volume. Still, it was obvious what they were implying through their facade of “concern.” “I can, ugh, I can do this, back off!” I swung my arm forward for no real reason. They were too far away to hit, being more off a signal to not get near. I took another step.”
“Please, don’t come any closer.” Their voice was soft but at the same time obviously urgent. “You’ll get yourself hur-”
“That’s what you think.” I took another step. “You think you already know me.” Another step. Unfiltered resentment spilled out of me as I continued to move forward, despite the pain in my legs. “You don’t know anything about me. You, no, they all think they know what makes me tick. How to keep me down.”
“Don’t take another step.” Their appendages going wild, each either wrapping around themself for protection, or sticking forward at me. “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Try it.”
“W-what?”
“Try it. Try to hurt me. You lay even a single one of those tentacles on me, I will rip each one off your stout head, Axolotl.” With one final step, I was now far enough away to no longer reach the desk, but even without it, I stood. “So try it, because you have no idea what I’m cap-AGHHHH!” Before I could react, an invisible stream of electricity shot out from a device one of the appendages was holding, sending bolts of pure lightning through my veins.
The sudden pain was intense enough to make me blackout for a couple of seconds. Even after, my vision was still blurry, and all I could hear was a piercing ring. I could feel my legs give out from under me as I fruitlessly swung my arms in all directions to find something for support. This was unsuccessful, and in a moment, I was off my feet and cascading to the ground. I closed my eyes and braced myself for impact, for the feeling of smashing my already broken arm into the ground, but that feeling never came. Instead, I felt multiple firm, long limbs brace around my waist, my legs, and across my chest, keeping me upright.
My brain was too fried to be confused, to fight back, so instead I leaned into the appendages. They didn’t wrap around me tightly, just enough to keep me supported. They slithered across my surface, trying to find crooks in my body for better leverage, or so I assumed. Eventually, they found some appropriate spots to wrap around for the best support. It was comfortable for me. So comfortable, in fact, I didn’t even notice my feet leave the ground.
When I did, I didn’t even have the energy to react,simply going limp in their grasp. I was in the air for what felt like an eternity, which, in reality, was probably 30 seconds at most. I was enveloped by the feeling of my cushy bed. I was pressed into it with more force than was suitable, though I suppose it was a subliminal message to me that I shouldn’t try to leave it. The appendages untangled from my body and soon, all I could see, hear, and process was a faint ringing in my ear and blurred vision that left me in no position to even try and speak.
This lasted for several minutes as I was stuck between what felt like two planes of reality. It was a disorienting mess of stimuli that I had no way of understanding in the state I was in, like how seizures are described. Was I having a seizure?
Several more moments passed, and right as I started to consider that option seriously, my vision slowly began restoring itself around the edges. So did any physical sensation outside of the after shock, shortly afterward. My tongue still felt heavy in my mouth, though, and the taste of copper still lingered, similar to the taste of a bag of electrified pennies shoved down my throat.
That’s just about when I finally heard them again.
“-and I know I shouldn’t have but I got scared and again I’m sorry I didn’t know it was on full charge and I should have checked but also I should have never used it because I was capable of stopping you without it but I was scared and I was in no authority to use it and I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”
I attempted a response to the ramblings that had been going on for however long, but all that came out was a bemused grunt followed by a coughing fit. It wasn’t very effective in communicating anything, not even being loud enough to get their attention. So I tried again. “Sss.”
They jumped back at the loud hissing sound. “A-a-are you okay?”
“Ss-shut up.” I practically gurgled out from the depths of my throat. “You talk too much.”
“O-oh th-thank goodness you’re ok. I’m so sorry about this. I shouldn’t have shot the Tuca’p, it was brazzen and unprofessional of me. I should have done something, anything other then-”
“Shut up.” Their expression dropped. “Quit making so many excuses, you don’t need any. I was being a dick to you, which you didn’t deserve. You were only reciting what they said. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you.” Despite everything, I’m glad I never lost the ability to find humor in a facial expression, because the one I was witnessing was priceless. I would have laughed if I’d remembered. “You know, you're not too bad.”
“I-I don’t-I’m not sure what it is-excuse me, I don’t… Thank you.” Their gills flushed a vibrant hue of pink light, filling the entire room for only a moment. “Thank you.”
I picked myself up from the groove in the bed. “Why were you here again?”
“Oh, right!” Instantly, the appendages shot in all directions, some grabbing tools from their pockets, off the desk, while two latched under my arms, and another around my waist. “Is this alright?”
“Sure.”
“Ok, perfect!” They got closer to me, really close, actually, and brought the tools along. “Now, firstly, I’m going to gently move your limbs, and you’re going to tell me if anything hurts, ok?”
“Understood.” Without further warning, the appendages wrapped around the base of my arm next to the shoulder and began to rhythmically shake them. Instantly, I felt a sharp pain in my left bicep. “Fuck.”
“Where?”
“Left. Left arm.”
“Can you use your right to show the afflicted area.” At this point, it was less of a question and more of a command. Without another word, I wriggled my right hand out of their grip and ran my fingers across the afflicted parts of my arm. This ended up consisting of the entirety of it from my shoulder to just before my hand. Damn, I must have really messed myself up.
“Right here.”
“Interesting.” The limbs suddenly left my arms and briefly went to my legs. “Anything?” They asked as they shook my legs firmly.
“No.”
“What about-” They cut themselves off while two appendages ran across my torso and body. As they went, they firmly pressed against me in another attempt to find any pain.
“I don’t think your going to find anything broken ther-shit!” The limbs immediately stopped at the point I made noise.
“Interesting.” They lightly pressed down on the spot, eliciting the same reaction from me.
“Mind telling me what's here?”
“As in bone structure? Well, on either side of my body I have 12 bones that wrap around the interior of myself. We call it a ribcage, ‘cause it’s like a cage.” It was weird to describe an aspect of the human body that is so ubiquitous that in any other circumstance, would not even require a second breath.
“From what I can feel,” they pressed down against the spot again for emphasis, “ It appears something is looser than the other bones around it. Is that normal?”
“No, I think I might have cracked a rib.”
“Will you heal on your own?”
“Aside from getting a limb chopped off, I can heal from just about anything given enough time.”
“Impressive.” They paused awkwardly like they were about to continue, but stopped before the words could leave their mouth, instead just hanging agape like a fish drowning in air. “”Y-you’re impressive.”
The last stutter made me realize how they were completely stutter-free for the entirety of the check-up. Turns out being good at a job brings out the confidence in someone. It was funny, ‘cause I could relate.
“I know.” I couldn’t help but give a smug smile. “Of course I know!”
“I’m glad.” From a coat pocket, they pulled out a small square with a sac full of a purple liquid on the back. On the front, small metal teeth lined the edges of the square, all of which protruded perfectly forward. “That being said, I have some medicine that will speed up the process. Now, if you’ll just stick out an arm.” The appendage slithered its way up the length of my arm and gripped tightly at the elbow. Without further pause, the strange square was pushed into my arm, and started to inject itself into my bloodstream.
The sensation was strange, feeling like an ice cold liquid was dumped directly into my veins. I flinched and yanked my arm back, the square unbothered by this sudden movement as it was completely dug into my arm.
“How is this going to help exactly?”
“The liquid should fuse with your blood cells and increase their proficiency. Y-You have blood cells, right?”
“Yes, I have blood cells. What doesn’t?”
“I don’t know, it's just you’re strange.”
“I know I am, a lot of people have been telling me that recently.” When the square was just about finished depositing the liquid, I yanked it out from my arm and threw it on the nearby desk. “A lot of people.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What was that?”
“I’m sorry The Council and their team haven't met your expectations of decency.” They spoke with a smooth tone that made it clear every word was carefully chosen. “And I’m sorry I contributed to that when I unintentionally disrespected you earlier. I never want anyone to feel that way. I know how it can feel.”
I didn’t respond, not because I understood them, or appreciated the apology, or the words that should have given me some sense of retribution, but because I had nothing to say. The words were phony, they rang hollow because I knew they had no worth whatsoever. What would I do with a sorry, and what did they even represent? That they cared? I think I could count the amount of people who have ever had genuine respect for me on one hand, and even then, that takes time. I have no reason to believe this one who I met 20 minutes ago had any reason to care, so I said nothing.
“W-well, I should be going now. I checked on all parts of your body, and judging by the amount of damage, you should be back up and running in barley a couple Anex’s, so I see no reason why you should worry.”
“Ok.” Their expression faltered, this time giving me no amusement. “Thanks.” I turned away from them, and proceeded to focus on the machines whirling next to me as a distraction until they left.
Finally, after a minute or so, I started to hear footsteps walk towards the door. Then, “You’re not what they say you are.”
“...”
“I know we just met, and I know we don’t know anything about each other but… I know you’re more than some aggressive fighter, more than what's under the surface.”
“...”
“I just… I just don’t believe they know that. Neither do you.” The door opened, signifying their exit. “By the way, I’ll deliver you some clothes next Anex.” And just like that, they were gone.
I didn’t understand that last statement for a minute, before looking down and suddenly remembering I was completely naked save for the crumpled blanket that lay on the floor. ‘Shit, have I been like this the entire time?’ The embarrassment that filled me was immense, and honestly made me laugh with how I didn’t notice. It was enough to, briefly, distract me from what they said to me.
I wanted to act like they had no effect on me, like with the apology, but for some reason I just couldn’t. The words clung to me, and I couldn’t help but ponder them. It was only when I reminded myself of the fact we had only briefly interacted, and that they had no knowledge of me as a person, that I threw the statement to the side to forget about. ‘First impressions are often misleading.’
They were interesting, that's for sure, but they quickly left my mind. What replaced it was the persistent thought that I was weak for rotting in this bed the past couple days. Sure I needed to heal, but by this point, it was plenty. I knew I needed to make myself feel better, and the only way I could was by proving those days of rest meant something. To prove this, I was going to walk.
I had already done it, but that was done for a different reason, and I wanted to prove it wasn’t a one time thing. So I scooted off the bed and with a deep breath, I put both legs on the ground. The immediate pain I felt made me question how I was even able to do it the first time. Still I didn’t let it deter me, and with one step in front of the other, I moved. I moved forward, not gracefully, not quickly, but I moved forward, like I was taught to do.
I touched the wall on the other side of the room and briefly rested against it for support, before walking back to the bed, then back to the wall, over, and over, and over again. The repetition showed it was worth it, showed that I was, in fact, a fighter.
‘Ha, shows what they know.’
2024.05.20 17:53 bakuh0ee My life Sucks
your 18 and your questioning your identity and sexuality,you know you’re pansexual because you like both female and male but you have to hide that part of you because as a jehovah’s witnesses homosexuality is wrong.you can be friends with “worldly” people but you cannot hang out with them after school or go to the movies and etc.you cannot celebrate holidays not even your own birthday.you can’t have certain hairstyles or clothing preferences,you can’t even have piercings.you go to meetings and it feels boring and bland,you can’t tell your peers how you feel because you’ll get ridiculed,harassed,or threatened to disfellowship.many people at the hall are weird and lowkey try to get personal information out of you and try to compete with you,they’ll probably gossip about you.you have to put on this “jw personality” instead of genuinely being yourself.you feel like you’ll say the bad thing when around then even around family and that alone overwhelms you.you watch your “worldly” friends be themselves and even they’re family members accept them for who they are but your family and peers can’t even do the same.your trapped in the house,can’t even go anywhere because your mom is so worried about you “getting pregnant and having sex” but your depression doesn’t matter.your depressed “go put it in prayer to jehovah”.mental health never matters.you constantly order takeout damaging your body everyday with fast food and everything time you order you mom ridicules you about eating fast food when we literally get pizza or mcdonalds.you try to please your fam members and peers but you’re living a double life and this religion in general contributes to your depression.you eat your problems away and you isolate yourself talking to “worldly people” on social media as it actually brings you joy.you don’t have to fake a personality,you don’t have to fake anything.you can be yourself and people will accept it.they will respect your pronouns,and even when you vent to them,they are understanding and non judgmental.so yeah this is my life in a nutshell.
submitted by bakuh0ee to exjw [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 17:28 Gabe_3378 AITAH For trying to cut contacts with my dad??
I am (f) who has now trust issues with (m) 33 Richard for taking advantage of my forgiveness, I had a perfect family nothing happened everything was normal until I noticed my dad wasn’t home usually every night until I asked my mom why my father hasn’t been home at night, she was about to cry trying to tell me that they divorced but didn’t tell me, that night she told me I was balling my eyes out because I know the family wouldn’t be the same without him. After a few weeks, my mom began telling me more information about why they divorced and I started to hate my dad and texted him how I felt about him cheating on my mom again for the 3rd time. But he used that help to pay for the car and apartment I used to live in for us but didn’t bring up anything about my feelings or my siblings, I stopped talking to my dad for a while till I forgave him because my therapist told me just give him one chance, so I did and another few weeks go by I wanted to get my piercing and wanted my dad to take me to go get it to have a bonding and he said sure he will take me when he gets paid, so the day he gets paid I ask if he’s gonna take me to get my piercing now and he said “I have no more money” and I was just okay with it and said when he gets paid again and he agreed, so the next day I asked he says the same thing and I got upset and sad and told my mom about it, she said when she gets the money since we were struggling financially but I was a young teen at the time and couldn’t get a job so I agreed and waited happily. Out of nowhere, my mom took me to a Tattoo shop that can also piece and we went inside together I was happily picking where the piercing I want but as days go by I finally decided to go and spend time with my dad and his girlfriend, they were nice in all but the girlfriend didn’t have a job and have 7 kids from getting them from her narcissistic boyfriend, as my dad told me to be nice he also grabbed my head poking my piercing trying to show it to his girlfriend and I was in pain but didn’t wanna be mean so I just kept my mouth shut until my dad was cooking food and I notice mushrooms on the burger and I told him about it and he said they like mushrooms and I told him to be careful because he can die from them. Once I got my food I tried to talk to the kids but got awkward and walked outside to talk to my dad again till we had to go home but his girlfriend was all over him and I got uncomfortable. I don’t like seeing another girl all over my dad because I hate to see my dad liking it while he leaves his other family depressed. After another few months passed I got into high school it was so stressful since my mental health wasn’t okay and haven’t gotten good grades until the middle of the school year. When I got home I was helping my cousin wash her clothes at my house since they don’t have any washers and dryers these three teens 1 male and 2 female were walking as I was going in the house I got a call from my cousin me 3 minutes later about fighting because they called my cousin “hoe” “cheap girl” for not wearing shoes and I brought my sister to her as I run where they live and arguing and yelling about what happened and I got in the car with my cousin since my mom got home at that time, I found the guys and girl insta I gave them a warning about talking about my cousin and the mom comes running to my dad cursing at him about the text and he got mad at me for it but also again my mom heard and backed me up and asked for my phone so I give it to my mom and read it and my mom told my dad “you're the reason your gf family moved here” he was mad and stormed off and kept reading it and I was talking to her but my dad sister was listening and laughing at my dad but had our back. They wouldn’t stop being mean to my cousin until I brought up to them again about jumping them to scare them off so the mom wants to get the police involved and the police don’t help them not even a few weeks later he gets his gf pregnant and I was furious talking shit about my dad to my ex-girlfriend and crying my eyes out again because he betrayed us. I texted him how I felt again and he brought up that he paid for my mom's car I got mad and blocked him but unblocked him since my mom told me to call him about something. Now everything is getting The baby gave birth a few months early because the sack thing in her wasn’t breathing I don’t know about pregnancy so now my dad has been making excuses that he’s at the hospital with his gf and the baby lying he was about to pick us up and my brother from his hour-long game and I texted him again saying “You can’t even show up to pick us up being by a deadbeat side the whole time, All this wouldn’t happen if you didn’t cheat again and get another girl pregnant you wouldn’t have to be bitching about child support for us” I blocked him and started crying because I don’t know what to do anymore all I wanted to do is cry but it wouldn’t help but make it worse then he trys to force his newborn to meet me and my siblings rubbing it in our face about his kids when he picks us up, so AITAH for trying to cut contact?
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