This fic flows out of me way too easily, so I'm riding the waves while I can. Glad to see people enjoying it too! We continue where we left off, trying to figure out where to go, both with universe at large and with poor, lost child...
As usual, thanks to SpacePaladin15 for his own great work and letting fanfiction flow, and everyone who supported and enjoyed the fic thus far. So, let's see where this goes from now.
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Memory Transcription Subject: Dr. Erin Kuemper, SETI Researcher
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Before entering the conference room, I adjusted my dress suit. Even for official meetings, I usually just prefer simpler official outfits, but this time is different. Being invited to observe the first official diplomatic meeting between humanity and aliens, I wanted to be perfect for it, even if it was meeting the baby-eating monster aliens over a video call.
Stepping inside, I see the other people that would be present for it. Normally, as a SETI researcher, I would object to the presence of any military heads at such a meeting, on purely conceptual level, much less two. But with what we have learned I can’t help but almost feel like even entire room filled with generals wouldn’t be enough for this.
“Ah, Dr. Kuemper. Come in, take a seat. We plan to start hailing them in ten minutes.” Secretary-General motions towards one of free seats, so I take the one that’s further away from both generals. As I do though, General Jones starts talking to me.
“So, Dr. Kuemper, how’s our rescue doing? Were there any further incidents?”, she asked.
“No, not yet. She still hasn’t woken up since that last sedation. While we don’t understand nearly enough about her biology yet, drawing some parallels with biology of Earth life we can infer that while her life is no longer threatened, she will likely take a while to fully recover from blood loss and malnutrition. Much bigger problem will be communicating our intentions to her, as well as regaining her trust after... everything.”
“Is it really smart to assign Noah Williams as one of her main caretakers then?” She asked, raising her eyebrow.
“From analyzing the footage of the incident, she reacted the same way to all the humans in the room. I doubt it was Williams’ specific appearance that was the source of such intense fright. And that assignment is not just for the sake of the alien, but Williams himself. Him and Rosario are both, frankly, on suicide watch right now. They need a chance to try and do something to relieve their guilt.”
To that General Jones just hummed, before turning to the screen. I could also hear General Zhao, the Chinese general, snorting in amusement. I am not sure what he found funny about this, but I’d rather not know at all.
It wasn’t a rational call, I knew it, but if there’s anyone who can project most empathy possible towards our alien rescue, it’d be Noah. I have asked Sara if she wished to participate as well, but she struggles to even look at the child without throwing up, so for her, distancing might be for the best.
“We’re beginning to hail the Arxur Dominion now.” Secretary-General announced, standing in front of the screen, facing it. “Not sure how long it will take.”
“I bet time zones get a ton more complicated on interstellar level...” General Zhao grumbled.
Afterwards, there were long twenty minutes of silence, interrupted by an occasional cough or shuffle before finally screen shifted, and displayed the aliens. It appears they also were in a private conference room, like us. In the middle, standing tallest and looking at us was none other than Chief Hunter Isif from photos the Odyssey crew took. Behind him were two more arxur. One was similar to Isif in build and stature, though not quite as tall, and the other was notably shorter and scrawnier, with lighter scale coloration. Part of me almost assumed that was a female, before I remembered that in the data dump there were no signs of easily notable sexual dimorphism among the arxur. An adolescent then, perhaps?
“Humans. I am glad you responded to our invitation. I believe an introduction is in order. I am Chief Hunter Isif of Arxur Dominion.” The alien spoke, translators working already, translating the noises unlike anything human makes into discernable speech.
“Greetings, Chief Hunter Isif. I am Secretary-General Elias Meier. I represent the United Nations, or UN for short, a governing body meant to represent combined interests of all individual nations of Earth. Before we proceed, I need to ask. Will I not be speaking to your leader, Prophet-Descendant, today?”
That was on the agenda for the meeting, if I remembered correctly. Trying to interact with arxur other than Isif. To gauge just how far this goes. Though it doesn’t seem like it’s happening, considering Isif is the one who picked up and how now he was emitting a low hiss that almost felt like it was carrying amusement.
“No. No offense meant to you, humans, but we Chief Hunters are expected to conduct all business in our sectors on our own. You technically fall within my territory. Plus, why would I give up an advantage I have over other Chief Hunters so easily? We may not ever have war against one another, but the competition is fierce, and you might just be the edge I need to curry more favor.”
I noticed General Zhao scoffing at shameless honesty in arxur’s intentions for this ‘alliance’ they proposed in the databanks. Yeah, just use us to gain more advantage over his rivals. I can’t believe Secretary-General elected to deal with them after all.
“I see. I expected that. Still, even if we were granted an audience, our answer would have remained unchanged. Sorry to disappoint, Chief Hunter, but humanity simply cannot afford a full alliance with the Dominion.” Secretary-General spoke in neutral tone, but I could sense the strain in his voice.
The arxur on the screen had his facial features harden.
“I see. You’re still unconvinced of the prey’s threat to your unprepared world. You believe you may parlay with them.”
“Quite the contrary, we’re more than convinced and have no reason to believe you’re lying. However, while an alliance with you would grant us protection... It would also drag us into the war we wish no part of. We’re... grateful to you for showing hospitality to the crew of Odyssey, and for warning us of the threat, but we will not be diving into war we have no interest fighting.”
“You will not be able to hide forever.” Isif kept insisting, seemingly almost growing agitated. “We knew of you because they did, long before us. They may believe you dead, but all it’d take is one stray vessel for you to be doomed.”
Part of me wanted to be relieved that, despite the tense tone, the negotiations so far were going exactly as planned. Another part of me wept that we were intentionally alienating and putting distance between ourselves and the aliens. And a third part of me was disgusted at the fact that we were talking to them at all.
“Trust us, Chief Hunter, we do not plan to merely sit and wait to be discovered and exterminated. We will be preparing. We simply don’t wish to enter the fight without a good reason.” Elias continued, pushing on to the next topic. “That said, just because we don’t wish for alliance, doesn’t mean we can’t mutually benefit from one another still.”
I could see that the shorter arxur behind Isif was about to speak up, but flinched when the larger one glared at them. Isif himself narrowed his eyes at Elias.
“And what benefit do you see that isn’t us joining hands in battle for survival, Elias Meier?”
I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel Secretary-General smiling at Chief Hunter.
“Trade. Your people are, by your own admission, starving. We could provide a solution. What we lack, however, is information. In this universe, we’re blind, and just sending out probes risks discovery. If you’d be willing to supply us with intel on Federation, we’d be more than glad to relieve your hunger. Maybe not the whole Dominion... But definitely all of your sector’s arxur.”
Arxur behind Isif both slightly opened their mouths, eyes widening in almost human-like expression. Even Isif seemed to be taken slightly aback, though he composed himself much quicker, glaring at his subordinates to make them collect themselves. On our end, I could see General Zhao smirking, and General Jones tapping at her chin in contemplation, while I twiddled my thumbs nervously, waiting for rug to be pulled from under us.
“You promise a lot. Producing food in such quantities with just one planet, even if it were filled with cattle, is impossible. Simply unsustainable.” Isif replied.
“We have our ways, Isif. We solved hunger once, we can do so again. Not immediately, it will take time to ramp up production, of course... But once that happens, all you need to do is name your price in how much meat you need and we will provide. And all we want in return is information to better defend ourselves.”
There was a long pause of contemplation. When looking closely, I could see something that was either agitation... or excitement among Isif’s posse, but Chief Hunter himself remained unimpressed. Eventually he did speak up.
“Don’t think I will fall for such a trick, Elias Meier. You humans are still young, still naive to the cruelty of the universe. We were once like you, and were nearly wiped out for it. I will not have it happen to the only other True Sapient in the galaxy. I will trade information. But I can already sense what the first request will be, and you will not be getting translations for Federation languages.”
That made every human in the room except Elias tense up. I almost flinched at the accusation, Jones hid her mouth behind her hand and Zhao’s smirk turned into a frown. Only Secretary-General remained unshaken. Isif, in meantime, continued speaking.
“If you prove yourself capable of helping us, and manage to provide as much sustenance as you claim you can... I will consider it. But until then, I will not be accelerating your desire to commit extinction by Federation’s hands.”
“Then, if you need to benefit from us first before putting us at risk, we can only thank you again for your concern, Chief Hunter.” Secretary-General replied. I was surprised at how collected he remained despite the arxur completely seeing through our intentions with this ‘trade deal’. “Trust us, we have no interest in getting annihilated in antimatter fire, but we are willing to work to earn your trust. We will be sending lists of information we desire. I hope that partnership can strengthen the bonds between us further.”
“Indeed. We will review and return to you the amounts of food we will require for it. Show us what you are capable of, humans. Now let’s get this over with. Conversing like that is... tiring.”
Right. Arxur are naturally solitary, according to the databank they gave us. A species of biologically predisposed introverts...
“Farewell, Chief Hunter Isif.” Meier replied curtly, before the screen dimmed and camera light disappeared. Contact was over.
I let out a deep sigh of relief, realizing I’ve been holding it in for a while now. There... was a lot to consider about what just happened. I was told footage would be saved, so we can better analyze the arxur nonverbal cues later.
Elias turned to us and put his hands on the table.
“So, that didn’t go as bad as it could have. Any thoughts?”
General Zhao was first to speak up.
“We’ll need information on Federation tactics and weaponry. We’ll have to prepare a strong l space military regardless of whether they can be talked down, but it’s much easier to convince someone not to kill you when doing so risks their own life.”
“I’m more interested in whether there is any technology that could allow us to send spy drones into Federation space without leaving obvious trail back to us.” General Jones countered. “We might not even need arxur translators if we can decode the language via our own surveillance.”
Elias turned his eyes on me expectantly. I considered everything that happened, things Isif said and ways his presumably-lieutenants reacted to conversation, things we learned from their data bank... And it dawned on me.
“They... see us the same way we have seen them before learning of their horrid acts. First contact with someone who treats you like a person, and first people in the galaxy whom you can see as friends. We sought the stars seeking to not be alone in the universe, and while their ways are repulsive to us... It’s not true the other way. This cooperation to them is much more sentimental than it is to us. They want to be able to trust us and rely on us.”
Elias smiled and nodded at my assessment.
“Thank you for your input, everyone. We have a lot of work ahead of us. Dr. Kuemper, I hope you’re ready for tomorrow’s announcement and your promotion?”
Right. Tomorrow we’re revealing that First Contact has occurred to the public. It took a lot of effort to make it presentable without triggering mass panic, and some details will be omitted. That and I’m receiving a new position in the UN related to handling alien affairs. What a joy...
“As ready as I can be.”
“Then let’s get to it. It won’t be easy, people, but our entire civilization is at stake. We need to get this right, and in a way that won’t have our descendants condemning us.”
Right. Cooperation with arxur, this trade... I didn’t like the idea of it, but I understood. We needed their help. Perhaps through this cooperation, rather than them influencing us, reverse can be made true, unlikely as it may seem. Worst part was failing to secure any translators at all. While I’m sure generals are salivating at idea of cyber-espionage against the Federation, I just wanted to be able to communicate with the rescued child, and make sure we could properly help her recover. Still... We will do our best, even without them.
Memory Transcription Subject: Stynek, Venlil Test Subject
Date [standardized human time]: July 15, 2136
Second time I woke up; the memories came to me much faster. How I was captured during the raid. How I spent months in cattle pens. How I was used as a meal for mystery predators. How they took me with them. And how I was now in their laboratory, or whatever closest thing predators have in their feral science.
Of course, my first instinct was to try and escape, but I couldn’t. I found myself actively strapped to the bed. I was panicked at first, trying to break through the restraints, but to no effect. So I let my head fall back onto surprisingly soft pillow and lay there... Awaiting my fate. But fate wasn’t coming, and I found myself getting a bit bored. So I raised my head and examined the room.
It seemed different from the room I was in before. Most of the machinery was gone, and the only big machine beside my bed wasn’t actually hooked up to me anymore. There was a large, predator-sized closet in the corner, and two big tables with seats. Of course, there was also bed itself. If not for the fact that I was slated to be butchered on this bed soon, it’d be the most comfortable place I got to lay down on since my capture. As is... It felt like cruel irony. I felt my eyes watering again. Did predators want to taunt me? Give me this sense of near-comfort as one last cruelty?
Subconsciously I tried calling out for mom, but felt my throat burn and ended up coughing instead. I think all the screaming recently wasn’t good for it, and with how dry my mouth was it didn’t help. Looking around I spotted it. A glass of water on a small stand beside the bed! Except it was completely out of reach. I tried shifting my tail under me, to try and extend towards it, but I’d need to have the bed flipped to have the chance at reaching. They probably left it like that intentionally... Letting me feel thirst, see the answer, but not be allowed to take it, all to make me suffer more.
I attempted to shift and wiggle against the restraints some more, when it hit me. It finally hit me that my leg was gone, gone for good. Even if I could somehow miraculously break those restraints... And get out of predator captivity... And make it back home to Venlil Prime... It wouldn’t be the same. I’d never live a normal life. My vision blurred with tears again. Why couldn’t they just end it... Why did... they have to make me suffer more.
Then the door opened and my heartbeat quickened. I realized just what I asked for, and looks like the universe itself wanted to give me that. Through the door stepped a figure... No longer clad in big rubbery suit. They probably realized such deception won’t work on me. But which of predators it was made my blood freeze.
It was the same one again... The dark-colored one that was there in meeting with arxur, and when I first woke up... Why was it always this one showing up over and over? Did all those predators look like that? He was wearing different outfit, maybe it was a different predator? No, it’s too similar, it must just be... assigned to me. My personal warden. Just like the pens had specific wardens assigned to them that were in charge of picking out meals.
This is it then. They must have done everything they wanted to do with me while I was unconscious and now that I was awake to feel it, were ready to finish me off. I closed my eyes, squeezing them tightly shut as the predator approached. I lost count of how many times I was anticipating death recently, but this was it... This must be it, finally, right? Universe can’t be cruel enough to do more to me, can it?
And as I waited for my demise, with held breath I lay. And lay. And waited. Until I realized that by now predator would long be within reach of my throat. I slowly opened my eyes, and blinked a few times to get the tears out. Sight of predator right beside me made me flinch, as it sat down by the bed, looking over me with its hungry, binocular eyes. I could see its mouth, lips quivering in hunger. And yet it did not lunge... Why?! Why can’t they just finish me off already? I felt so exhausted and fatigued by it all...
Predator seemed to lock its horrid eyes with my own eye. The gaze was intense, and I felt frozen. I couldn’t move, not even a muscle, as it just stared at me and I stared back. I felt a tear roll down my face, contributing more to the clump of matted fur, grown stained with so many tears. And that’s when the predator reached its hand for my head. I closed my eyes, recoiling away to the best of my ability. I... I didn’t want it... Please... Why can’t I just wake up back home, why can’t it all just be a nightmare...
I was prepared for its claw to grasp my face, to twist my neck, to scratch at me... But the only thing I felt was a small caress right under my eye, where the tear ran, wiping it off and rubbing at clumped fur, getting bits of dirt out in process. And then it was over. There was no attack. It was just more prolonging of the inevitable. It was so... tiring. I opened my eyes again, to look back at the predator. Really look back in those cruel eyes, to try and understand why the universe would have such evilness exist at all. The binocular gaze was horrible, but no amount of my instinct telling me to flee could help when I had neither the limbs nor freedom to move. So I just looked back. Into those small eyes when they suddenly blinked. And what could only be a tear rolled down the predator’s face. This made me mentally recoil.
How? Did a predator just shed a tear? But that’s... impossible. Only creatures with empathy can cry. That’s the textbook prerequisite for crying! You need to feel things to cry! Predators don’t have that! Arxur don’t have that. We learn that since before school. One of first things parents teach their kids is always the dangers of predators. But this is... Maybe it’s something in the room? Some noxious agent irritating its eyes? Then why can’t I feel it? Is it simply copying me? But why would it do that? Can you even copy something you can’t understand, like feelings? I didn’t understand. Maybe their biology was way more alien? Their skin was naked and had no fur or scales or feathers, maybe their tears are different too? I tried to find any explanation at all, any possible answer to questions swirling in my mind, but nothing made sense. It’s like this one little tear shattered everything I knew about predators. Maybe... They were different somehow? No! That can’t be it. If they were, they wouldn’t... They wouldn’t have been ones to take part in eating me! They wouldn’t deal with arxur! It’s a trick... it must be... But tears are a sign of empathy...
“W-Why...”, I asked in my confusion. My voice came out as ragged and hoarse and I was reminded of how dry my insides felt. I glanced over to the glass at the bedside, still out of reach and now with a predator near it... I stood no chance at reaching it.
Then suddenly, the predator looked over at it as well, and picked it up. I was almost about to cry at the idea that it would drink it in front of me, taunting my thirst further. But it didn’t even bring the glass close to its horrid mouth, instead moving it towards my face. Naturally, I tried pulling back from predator reach, but still restrained, I couldn’t move much. And once the glass was in front of me, predator just tilted it and... left it hovering there.
Was it... offering me a drink? Does that mean the water is poisoned? Why else would it give me some? I didn’t open my mouth, but the predator kept hovering the glass in front of me... Clear liquid inside swishing a bit with unevenness of the movements. Tantalizing... My throat felt drier just looking at it. In the end, base instinct prevailed over reason-based self-preservation. Even if it is poisoned... I was as good as dead in this den of predators, this won’t matter, and at least I’ll die not feeling as dry as a piece of old tree bark. So I let my mouth open and I raised my head as much as I could within the restraints, putting the glass’s rim into my mouth.
That first sip was probably the most heavenly water I’ve ever tasted. It was just normal water, of course, but with how dry I felt, I couldn’t get enough as I started quickly gulping it down. The predator actually helped, tilting the glass, keeping up with how quickly I emptied it. Every gulp was a relief... It was no stale water of arxur pens. It was actually fresh water! But as quickly as it started, the happiness ended, glass fully tilted and empty. I smack my mouth, gathering little bits of moisture gathered on it with my tongue, while the predator moves the glass back onto the counter.
Well, if that had poison in it, I didn’t taste any. And if it was somehow tasteless... It was worth it. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around the predator and its actions, so instead I did my best to just ignore it as I savored the feeling of hydration. If I somehow live through this, unlikely though it may be, I will never scorn water again. Though I will probably still prefer some good juice over it...
The predator started moving again, removing the blanket-like sheet that was covering most of my body and reaching to where my restraints connected to the bed itself. It locked its eyes with me again, and this time it at least didn’t cry, but it did start to growl something. It was quiet and subdued, and of course I couldn’t understand any of it, but it didn’t lunge or reach for me directly and didn’t seem any different from earlier. Was it trying to say something?
Then I heard a small click. The light pressure I felt on my arms and chest from the restraints relaxed. Then the predator just tossed the restraint over me, revealing that they released me. I tested it by raising my arms slightly. Why...? Did they plan on taking me somewhere? I could try running but the feeling of lightness, of hollow emptiness where my leg used to be reminded me of how fruitless the endeavor would be, so I just kept laying in bed. The predator’s mouth curved in some wicked expression before they growled out some more of their crude words and got up.
They moved towards the exit, turning around to give me one last creepy staredown before stepping out of the room. And, unsurprisingly, I heard a soft click from the door itself. Right. I was just free to explore my new pen. But even with the freedom granted, I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. The shock of learning that a predator just shed a tear and fed me water was still too much. What is even happening?
It’s all so confusing. I grabbed the blanket and pulled it over my head, hiding in the dark. I tried to desperately convince myself to not get my hopes up, to remember what those predators did to me... But somewhere I felt like maybe things here will at least be better than they were in arxur pens. At least there’s that to comfort me. That’s right, they probably just... don’t want me to die yet because they haven’t finished experimenting on me... And the tears were just... I don’t know. It makes no sense! It’s stupid!
I let out a breath and snuggled tighter into the blanket. As long as it was dark and quiet like this, I could at least pretend that I was back home... That everything makes sense... That I am just fine... That I'll be okay...
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I created this group to build my empathy muscle and to help people in any way I can. I want to become a better human who helps others and maybe build friendships in the process. I am also looking for people who like to help other people and are always nice to others, I want such people also to join the group so that we can better help individuals together. What kind of help ? Any kind, motivation, guidance, good listening etc..
Join via the link :
https://chat.whatsapp.com/KGve954I9tJDmsSkq8pcIY

The familiar sounds of the office fill the ears of the "Adventurer" as he steps into his home away from home. To him "Familiar sounds" means the voices of about three-quarters of the hundreds of employees who work in this building, thanks to the progressive, passive, perpetual boosts to his senses that he has simply always been accruing. He still can't quite hear everything in the office, indeed as powerful as his senses are he can only actively sense enough space around him to be firmly aware of events occurring about half of the building's length and width away from him at a time, but those are still incredibly powerful senses.
Lucas steps past several cubicles and heads to his own with a calm smile on his face. He actually enjoys his job, not because he finds the work fulfilling but because it presents him with a chance to level up his skills and work towards becoming altogether stronger in a hilariously safe environment. The figure sits in his cubicle and logs into his work computer with a bright grin on his face. As he grabs the last pieces of paper in the backlog that was a big problem when he began to work for this company he feels a pang of pride.
The workday is pleasant enough. He successfully finishes the last pile of paperwork that was considered part of the backlog and this effort is celebrated by his direct supervisor and a few of the friends he's made in his department, a group composed of several men and only a few pair of women, who have been working here for years but lacked the abilities he possesses that allow him to grind out progress at a rapid rate and allow him to improve the work he does every single day without fail. The news quickly spreads throughout the office, and various people, including other departmental supervisors and managers, come to him and congratulate him.
When the day ends Lucas is one of the first people out the door. This is commonly expected Lucas-like behavior at this point so no one bats an eye at it. The figure works and then leaves, and he seems to have an incredibly strict policy about work-life balance to the point that no one from the office has seen his apartment or even seen him outside of the office aside from on social media.
The lad walks towards a nearby mall even as he checks his phone. When the decently cautious man is sure he's not being watched he uses his inventory to swap outfits, changing into something much more casual than his work uniform so he can do his equivalent of trolling. His clothes go from being the professional outfit someone might expect to see an accountant in, to the much more casual clothes of someone who works at a Game Station the local equivalent of a Game Stop.
The minute the figure reaches the mall he relaxes and steps into it with a smile on his face as he is suddenly and powerfully aware of events going on all around him now that the sounds he's been passively hearing for the last few minutes are not muffled by layers of solid American construction. The mall is a favorite haunt of his, a place where there are enough people that even if something goes awry he can pretty easily escape in the chaos and commotion that any sort of hostile actions would necessarily cause. Still, to the figure's credit he has not been caught yet.
The thief begins his training by carefully studying the department store he's in. He can be a bit bolder now than he could weeks ago, as in the time since he began to hone this skill he's enhanced it in such a way that he can teleport objects directly into his inventory, which is a tremendous improvement even if he can't take anything bigger or heavier than a cleaver. He eventually spots a teenager with a wallet that is just visible out of the corner of his pockets. Lucas diligently uses "Observe" on him and the powerful skill is strong enough now that Lucas can use it to determine someone's affiliations. When the young adult spots that the teen belongs to a gang he decides it's worth taking his potentially ill-gotten gains.
The clever trickster points a single finger in the direction of the teen's pocket and silently casts the handy spell. A thin line of energy lances out of his extended digit and sails through the air toward the teenager. When the teen begins to move Lucas hisses in annoyance and expends a bit more magical energy to take advantage of the first skill he's gained as a result of an attribute hitting 50: arcane manipulation.
Days ago the young adventurer's passion for magic and healing resulted in two classes leveling up on the same day: mage and white mage. This resulted in his intelligence going from 49 to 52, and as a result of that he gained the ability to manipulate magical energy, so long as he can detect the magic in question and is willing to spend some magic of his own. In this world, where the figure is reasonably certain that no other magical beings exist, this means that to hone this skill the wizard needs to manipulate his own magic. Still, that hasn't stopped the young professional from tirelessly doing just that.
With a significant amount of focus the mage is able to manipulate the thin beam and twists and turns it so that it circles around the teen before snaking into his pocket and striking the young gangster's wallet. When Lucas feels the wallet enter his inventory he chuckles and makes his way out of the department store. The rest of this particular bout of training is filled with similar feats of arcane finesse and hilariously minor acts that will steal from those willing to enact violence on others in exchange for money. Lucas's clever usage of his skills coupled with his willingness to act in stunningly petty and annoying ways make him great at harassing those he designates his foes. Lucas, lacking an ability to kill those he fights thanks to a drawback affecting him, has thus far refused to actually engage those he has marked as his foes in direct battle but his desire to annoy them has led to willingly target people associated with criminal groups with some of his spatial magic.
In hours the figure is back home and he is toying with the newest toy he's received from his gacha system. A guitar sits on his lap and he fiddles with the instrument, even he listens to a video about how to tune the thing. Lucas is experimenting with something, and behind the tablet he gained some time ago is a book that contains information on tuning guitars. The tablet is in use, recording what the man is up to. An app is in use and it records the sounds the guitar chords make. The self-taught musician relies on some of his new skills for this, as he has only recently gained the "Guitar" and "Guitar Maintenance" skills, and he got them at different times so they are different levels. Nonetheless, the figure patiently records himself, occasionally stopping the recording and examining it. He is diligently using his long-term planning skills and sticking to his broad plan. At the same time the figure patiently uses magic and steadily hones the "Mage" class, using his magic skills to farm multiple sources of experience while adhering to the schedule he has informally given himself.
Eventually the next day rolls around and the figure, predictably, gets out of his apartment and goes to work. If you had explained the concept of "Jumping" to Lucas a year ago and asked him if he thought so much of it would be just working a 9-5 job he'd not have believed you and yet in the context of his experience with the unusual profession a stunning amount of time has just been him being a regular employee of a perfectly mundane business.
Time continues to pass for the would-be adventurer at a steady pace. In this mundane world a figure with legitimate supernatural abilities is a uniquely powerful presence, and this is especially true of one that is determined to keep his head down and nose clean. Lucas's determination to live a regular, relatively risk-free life does not stop him from living, but it does stop him from suffering from some sort of "Middle School Second Year Syndrome" as a result of the fact that he has gained trainable superpowers. Instead of going mad with power or gaining an unhealthy mentality Lucas has just enough knowledge of how jumping works to know that while he might be a big fish in this world he is not a big fish in other worlds like Fallout, The Elder Scrolls, or even something as aggressively hostile and oppressive as the general setting of Minecraft is.
If an objective, impartial onlooker viewing Lucas's life is given the chance to describe the sort of "Television Show" that they are watching, they'd say it could easily be considered slice-of-life. For the first few months of his time here the most exciting times are the rare moments he adds something new to his slowly expanding list of activities and the even more slowly growing list of things he can do, such as when he begins to walk the streets of the city he lives in at night and cast healing, positive, restorative magic on the sleeping homeless people he encounters. This activity ultimately earns him the peculiar title of "Unsung Saint", a title which enhances the effectiveness of his restorative or otherwise beneficial magic on those not aware of the fact that he is using magic on them.
Days of work, training, and controlled, planned forays into new pastimes, turn into weeks of steady and anticipated progress. Weeks of steady and anticipated progress turn into months of upward mobility and the healthy establishments of new baseline feats. That said, eventually progress slows and becomes more difficult for the jumper in a world as relatively safe, for supernatural beings, as this one. It doesn't take terribly long for Lucas to go from a somewhat predictable, fairly focused figure who is very specialized in a number of areas, to a somewhat more well-rounded figure with a steadily increasing repository of skills and abilities, thanks to a subtle shift in growth strategies.
​Just a few days short of eleven months into his stay in this jump, the jumper is facing a new foe but is participating in an activity he's come to enjoy; sparring.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
I dodge a well-aimed right-handed punch intended for my face, though thanks to my agility I easily had enough time to dodge it, It took a long time, from my viewpoint, for it to get close to me so long enough that I only let it get this close on purpose. I'm holding back in terms of my speed and strength but my opponent, a friend I made at the gym a few weeks ago, doesn't need to know that. I have way too many supernatural advantages for it to be a fair fight if I don't hold back.
I give my opponent enough time to register that I've dodged the blow before I begin to telegraph, purposefully, my next attack. I purposefully overextend my left arm and launch a powerful, but slow, strike. The man grits his teeth and moves to intercept my strike. He is fast enough to position his arm in front of it but that is still a mistake. I guide my blow into his arm and watch as he lets out a sincere, pained, grunt. Even with me holding back I still allow DPS to work its magic, and that perk coupled with both my trained and perk-enhanced strength is enough for me to deal him a decently powerful blow.
I retract my fist with a sly smile and note that the bars that cover my field of view are all going up at different rates. The bar for "Brawler", a class that's the result of "Fighter" giving me access to a new class when it hit level 10, my currently equipped class, is going up at a healthy clip as I spar with this man, as is the bar for "Precision Strikes" and "Acting", some of my skills. Most of the things going up at a decent clip are affected by "Jack of All Trades" a perk thatreduces the time and effort it takes for me to train up new skills to around the level of my average. Most of my other bars are only slightly going up, but this is acceptable. This sort of training is vital, long term, for my very survival, and thanks to my perks is pretty easy for me to do.
Behind me I hear a familiar voice cheering; Hannah's. The lovely redhead has begun to accompany me to the gym, but this is a somewhat recent development. Before a few weeks ago we only occasionally saw each other on Saturdays at the cafe she worked at, though we have been texting buddies ever since we met. Marcus, my sparring partner, grins savagely at me as he listens to my friend and gym buddy's cheers.
"I can't let you show me up in front of your girl, Lucas. We're not close like that." Marcus tells me, though the words are insincere. Marcus is a friend of mine, one who has even tasted my food, and that's something I don't let others do as much as I once did, barring people who go to the soup kitchen when I'm one of the volunteers on duty. My cooking can now do some decent stuff so I don't want to get anyone who isn't an ally or someone I need in my pocket overly reliant on my skills. I grin at the muscular bruiser of a warrior and dart back before gesturing for him to come at me like he means it. The man lets out a hearty laugh as he begins to pursue me. He is a touch taller than me and he has muscular, wide arms that take up a lot of space.
I watch, diligently, as he swings them at me when he is in the martial sweet spot of being close enough to hit me with a fully extended fist and being far enough away for me to strike back in an effort to preempt or counter his blow. I dart forward even as he stops advancing and duck underneath the strike before I use an active skill from my "Dancer" class to infuse my agility into my strength and hit him with a blow that disorients him. He steps back, a look of pain and confusion on his face as I step forward and move close enough to hit the man with a much softer blow to the chest. I feel his solid muscles block part of the harm done to him, but the blow is still solid enough that I watch his HP lower.
He gasps in pain and staggers back, and I smile at him and sense my triumph. He's only lost a small portion of his total hit points, but for normal people, one's total stock of HP is an abstraction of their physical health. For me, my HP serves as a skillful shield that protects me at all times, and for me to fall in battle someone has to whittle away my entire bar before they take me out. In fact, right now my HP is not maxed out; earlier I took a hit from Marcus that I'm still recovering from.
I take a step forward before Marcus signals that he needs a break. I laugh, the sound filling the part of the gym we're fighting in, and stop approaching the man. Hannah walks up to the ring and offers me some of her water as I walk toward one of the corners of the small ring. I silently gesture that I'll accept it and she tosses it at me. When the object is in my hand I use subtle telekinesis to mess with my boxing glove just enough to more easily hold onto the water bottle and sip from it. The cool water tastes good, and I smile as I feel it helping me relax as I wait to continue the fight. This is the sixth time I've beaten Marcus, but I'll give the man one bit of praise: he's persistent. He likes fighting enough that he is always eager to try and fight me, and I like fighting just enough to appreciate his resistance to the idea that I can beat him. It's not always easy for me to keep on finding partners that I can spar with.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
In the days that follow this fight, the young jumper continues to spar with Marcus. He steadily trains his "Brawler" class, and takes on class skills that do things like make him a more efficient hand-to-hand fighter, even gaining skills that he suspects, and hopes that he won't need here; like the ability to launch a punch that can inflict damage at a distance.
The figure's volunteering remains a steadfast facet of his in-jump identity. The man gains popularity throughout the place that is, functionally, his hometown, as he becomes a well-known volunteer. He even makes the places he volunteers at more popular, using a steadily increasing amount of local and online popularity to advocate for the organizations he supports. This first began to occur about three months into his stay in the jump, but he really begins to leverage it at the six month mark and he quickly begins to slowly become a minor force in the community, taking advantage of his heavy charisma build to sway hearts and minds to his cause.
His days at work continue to remain fairly unchanged from how they were at the start of his time in the jump, though on very rare occasions he creates reports and the in-jump equivalent of PowerPoint presentations about the data he has compiled to his supervisor. He has also overseen a day of service for members of his department to go and volunteer at the soup kitchen where he volunteered on the day he met Hannah, allowing him a pleasant chance to practice his leadership skills. He earns his first pay raise just under a year into his stay in this setting.
Minor missteps occur along the way, such as the figure overbooking himself during one particularly hectic weekend, which annoys his friends and fellow volunteers but serves as a decently humbling experience for the overly eager adventurer and also shows his friends that he is, ultimately, human.
Lucas continues his relaxed, fairly peaceful days for more and more time. By the time he has been in the jump for a full two years his pre-jump life feels like a memory or a strange dream, though this change to his state of mind does not actually mean he cannot recall such a time only that he has fully acclimated to the realities of being a jumper. At least as much as someone who is still on their first jump can acclimate to such a thing.
A/N: I like this episodic style for the necessary time skips that a standard (or mostly standard) jumpchain story will require. Now I'm gonna say that this style won't be universal across all jumps since some jumps may be better suited to shorter timeframes. Heck some more story-intensive jumps may benefit from longer focuses on individual events and sequences of events, but we've gone past the tutorial phase for this jump and I think minor episodic looks at broad timescales is better than a thousand chapter story that only hits one year in a jump and ultimately gets dropped. That said, I know that I'm not doing this style of writing PERFECTLY, so I hope that I can use this to grow as a writer and to become better able to convey how long time skips affect the characters, relationships, and strengths of the people involved over time. Still, if nothing else this was fun.
ALSO, as an author's note that is unique to the subreddit: this story is being published on Spacebattles and the white line that cuts through parts of the story indicates a narration/viewpoint shift. On Spacebattles and several other places I write there are in-built formatting options that allow you to cut through a textbox with a horizontal line which serves as a visual marker for some significant change to some aspect of the story. The line I made was my attempt to do that here on Reddit. It's... not perfect, but hey I'm trying.

TL;DR: I grew to hate how I look as a result of getting into mewing. I feel like we, as a species, were forced into an unnatural lifestyle that caused our bodies to mutate into an unhealthy ugly, mess, and now, because of Mike Mew's work, we have to feel ashamed of it.
I have a lot of things to say, and even though I understand that not all people will read everything, I feel the need to pour my thoughts out.
I am 22 years old, and unfortunately, it so happened that I learned about mewing only a few months ago. Before Mike Mew and his work gained significant popularity among Gen-Zers after the release of his “Ultimate Mewing Guide” on YouTube, I was not even aware this practice existed, which makes me regret many life decisions I made up until this point.
It’s been about a month since I started mewing and I fully believe that tongue posture and craniofacial structure have a direct correlation. When I listen to Mews’ lectures, it feels like puzzle pieces falling into place. Their theories are so logical and spot-on that you begin to question how it is even possible for orthodontics to exist for centuries, or even thousands of years, without dentists realizing that problematic teeth are not a genetic trait. How come these people still treat malocclusion in children using braces? Moreover, mewing improves breathing and can potentially prevent migraines, as those often happen as a result of palatal shrinkage.
But aside from talking about the incredible health benefits of mewing, there is no doubt Mike Mew also places great emphasis on how oral posture affects the attractiveness of one’s face. When you listen to him, it sounds like he is driven to solve the problem of prevailing “ugliness” in the modern population. The amount of work he puts into analyzing the ideal facial structure is astounding. He shares a lot of valuable information on what a person must do to achieve a better-looking face. But my question is, did the problem of ugliness exist in the first place? Do people actually see down-swung faces as unattractive? By providing the instructions on how to improve one’s appearance from the get-go his work automatically assumes that this is the case, but is it really?
While I agree with Mike on most of his theories, whenever I hear things like “A face of a mouth-breather”, it makes me feel nothing but pain, and the reason for that is mewing works most effectively for reshaping the bones in adolescents and young adults, and according to the man himself, after 25 years of age, it is practically impossible to make any significant changes by utilizing proper oral posture.
So, do women really only find men who have a chiseled jawline and pronounced cheekbones attractive? I know I am only one example, but before learning about mewing, I never identified the facial features of a mouth breather as flawed, or even identified them at all, for that matter. I considered a smaller jaw as much of an individual trait as the shape of one’s nose or eyebrows. Yes, looking back on it now, it is an incorrect judgment, as most of the time a weak jawline is a result of an incorrect oral posture and a sedentary, relatively unhealthy lifestyle, but this is beside the point. I distinctly remember having a few crushes on guys in the past who would be considered to have a weak jawline. It’s just to show you how diverse women’s tastes really are.
So why must broad jaws matter, if I was and am genuinely attracted to guys who don’t possess them? Why must it matter, if nowadays, we no longer require large masseter muscles to chew on raw meat for our survival? Why must a slight down-swinging of the maxilla be seen as an unfavorable trait if it did not get so far that it impacts one’s health? Why should the purely aesthetic aspect of all of this matter?
In my opinion, mewing and orthotropics is a wonderful field of study that should be used to spread awareness about the small jaw epidemic and dental malpractices that genuinely ruin people’s faces. It is great for preventing malformities in future generations as well as treating adults who have problematic craniofacial structures that impact their health. But unfortunately, most people, when they hear the word “mewing”, picture a magic exercise that will make them look like sexy Squidward.
I see it very clearly, mewing has become a tool that enables insecurities to grow spread, and fester.
As I stated before, prior to watching videos on orthotropics on YouTube, I was completely unaware of the fact that forward development is deemed as aesthetic perfection. And now, I often subconsciously analyze the facial structure of random people I see in public when I never did in the past. Worst of all, I started seeing my own face as putridly ugly, when in the past, I considered myself to be not very attractive, but at least not looking worse than an average person. And recently, I realized this might be something that is happening not only to me but, probably, to many people interested in orthotropics.
So, do we really care about beauty standards, or is this idea being actively pushed on us by the looks-maxing mentality? To me, personally, it looks like Mike’s focus on looks in relation to mewing not only does not help to solve the problem, but instead, it is actively creating it. Or at least, it makes it severely worse, because, even if there were people like me, who did not care about perfect jawlines before, then from now on, their numbers are going to be dropping in the near future as mewing gets more and more attention.
“You aren’t ugly, you have bad habits», Well, does pushing with all the forces of your tongue on your maxilla in hopes of getting the face of a model sound like a good habit to you? Or performing inter-oral pulling or b0ne-smashing? And also, rating and judging other people’s faces, and suggesting to undergo plastic surgeries in case they are too old for mewing, so “it’s over for them”. Are these the good habits people are talking about?
And if we do follow the logic of “Mouth-breather face = bad habits”, what will the reasons for the malformation of one’s face be? What are the things that ugly no-good modern-day Quazimodos did, that are now being used as a valid excuse for others to judge them for their physical flaws? First of all, according to Mike Mew, breastfeeding plays a huge role in the development of natural proper oral posture. (Only 34.5% of women breast for the first 6 months as of the years 2000-2008 according to this article https://www.cdc.gov/mmwpreview/mmwrhtml/mm6205a1.htm#:~:text=Among%20infants%20born%20in%202000,16.0%25%20breastfed%20for%2012%20months.)) Second, human jaws require a consistent and considerable amount of work for them to achieve good development. (Modern diet is progressively becoming softer, and more processed). And third, the human body requires a lot of physical movement, running, and walking to maintain optimal and healthy back posture, which subsequently affects the structure of the skull. (I don’t know the statistics, but nowadays, most likely most of us can’t survive without sitting at a computer for 6+ hours a day). So, do all these things look like bad habits that one can easily and consciously fix? Adding a bit of exercise to one's life can do some good, that's a nice habit! But what about all the other stuff.... What if you are approaching the age when your bones don't grow anymore?
To get to the point, I don’t understand why people should be ashamed of their appearance when the modern lifestyle is literally doing everything to prevent the healthy growth and physical development of children. Cavemen did have beautifully wide dental arches as a result of chewing on raw meat, running barefoot, and hunting wild animals, but did they also have to spend 12 years of their adolescent life sitting at a school desk, studying, doing homework, and trying to get good grades? Maybe they also produced some impressive pieces of art, music writing, etc.? Then why should we be ashamed of the fact that we did not manage to keep our bodies at peak physical performance, while also studying, or god forbid, having an extracurricular interest that also involves a lot of sit-down work and is time-consuming?
I, myself, wasn’t ever a mouth-breather! I just had an absolutely awful back posture all throughout my life because I decided to dedicate my life to producing electronic music from the young age of about 13 years, which requires an endless amount of hours sitting at the computer. And now I get to be called ugly and lazy for it. I never even played video games in my life, ever! I don’t drink and I don’t smoke, and I’m not overweight, and yet I have to hate myself and how I look?? Just because of my passion?
It feels like we were forced into this unnatural, for our species, lifestyle that causes our bodies to mutate into an unhealthy mess and yet we still have to carry the guilt and shame of its consequences.
It makes me feel awful looking at how quickly the image representing “The face of a mouth breather” vs “The face of a nose-breather” is spreading, thanks to Mike Mew. The way it labels people based on their appearance is almost comparable to a racist caricature. It seeps into young adults' minds and makes them put people into categories, even if they never thought of this stuff before.
I’m not suggesting to ditch mewing as a whole and to continue living as uneducated, unhealthy modern apes. I’m asking people to stop cultivating an environment where we focus on negatively labeling people with unfavorable facial features that they get as a result of, mostly, circumstances beyond their control and that do not carry any health risks. Mewing may bring health benefits in the form of sleep apnea prevention, but it also changes the mindset and I don't think this is a good change.

Synopsis:
An engineer in another world—blending science and magic to achieve greatness in a world where skills and levels reign supreme.
—
Ethan was just a plain old engineer, but everything changed when he was reborn into a world of skills, levels, and magic. With his advanced knowledge far ahead of the time period he finds himself in, this new reincarnated life will be much different than his last, especially because he can construct, deconstruct, and reconstruct runes—something no one else can do.
But with royal politics, looming tax collectors, a mountain of debt, dungeon incursions, cults, and hostile fantasy races mixing together into a cocktail of bullshit that threatens to bury his dreams; Ethan must bridge the gap between steel and sorcery to grow stronger. — Runecrafting is slow burn. — What to Expect: - Weak to very strong progression - Hardcore wish fulfillment - A balance of action, kingdom building, and runecrafting. - MC will trigger an industrial revolution, revolutionize magic, modernize agriculture, communication, commerce, textile production, education, transportation, sanitation, weapons manufacturing, leisure & entertainment, and medicine.
Next >

Chapter 01

-1-
Ethan’s fists pounded the punching bag, sending a rapid series of jabs that landed with resounding thumps, each strike punctuated by ragged breaths. Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging his eyes, but he refused to stop, refused to surrender to the burning in his muscles or the rawness of his knuckles. He remained focused on punching.
Around him, the rest of the boxing team rested, even the coach looked like he needed a breather. But Ethan couldn’t afford to slow down—not with the first round of eliminations looming.
More, Ethan thought, his muscles burning as he threw another combination of jabs and cross punches. More, more, more.
Boxing had never been his choice; it was a path forced upon him by a father with unfulfilled dreams. Yet somewhere along the way, the thrill of the fight had ignited a fire within Ethan—a primal need to test the boundaries of his endurance, to feel alive in a way no textbook could provide.
But now his father lay dying in a hospital bed, and Ethan was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. His muscles burned and his knuckles were raw. But he couldn’t stop.
“Oy, mate, you should take a break.”
Jacob’s voice cut through Ethan’s reverie, and he turned to face his friend, chest heaving. “I can keep going. I’m fine.”
Jacob shook his head, concern etched across his features. “You’re going to end up hurting yourself. Listen, I know you’re worried about the eliminations and your dad, but you’ve got this. You’ll be fine. You’ve trained so hard. Harder than any of us, mate.” Jacob placed a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
“It’s not enough,” Ethan stepped away from the punching bag. “Not yet.”
“What do you mean? You’ve improved a ton since you first started, and you’ve gotten to this level faster than anyone else. There’s no way you’re getting cut from the team.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Ethan said, sighing as he ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.
“Listen, man,” Jacob said, giving him a sympathetic smile. “I get that you’re nervous. It’s normal, okay? But I’ve seen you out there. You’re good. Really good. If anything, the rest of us are the ones who should be worried—”
Before Jacob could continue, Ethan’s phone rang, the sound loud in the otherwise silent gym.
Looking at his phone made him frown and excuse himself. The caller ID was a familiar one. With his phone pressed against his ears, he walked down the corridor, leaving the other members of the boxing team behind.
“Hello?” Ethan said into the phone.
Then, his world tilted on his axis.
-2-
Ethan hated funerals.
It was a strange thing to say, and yet, there he was, thinking that exact same thing as he stood at the side, watching as a small crowd gathered around. The smell of freshly turned earth was thick in the air, along with a heavy dose of sorrow and grief. Or maybe that was his imagination; after all, most were likely putting on a show. A wake that lasted all of ten minutes. A quick eulogy. The final plop of dirt onto the polished wood coffin. Then they were gone. Just like that, they were gone.
His father’s funeral was over just like that.
Ethan waited a while longer after all the mourners had dispersed, then finally turned to look at his mother. His mother sat slumped in the front pew of the church; her gaze fixed on the ground. He sat beside his mother silently. She looked older today, like all the fight and life had just seeped from her body. They didn’t speak a word for the longest while, but finally, his mother broke the silence.
“Do you blame me?”
“No,” he said automatically.
You do, a small voice said in the back of his head. Because maybe, if they hadn’t sent him away, he could’ve pursued his dreams...
“Thank you,” his mother said, the relief in her eyes far too apparent. She wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands trembled. She swallowed audibly before she continued. “I was such a stupid little girl when we married. I had no choice but to leave for Dubai because...”
“You don’t need to explain anything.” Ethan looked down at his knuckles. “I understand.”
“He always blamed himself,” she said suddenly, and Ethan frowned. “For not just letting you into civil engineering. For pressuring you into, well, violence.”
Ethan smiled wryly, staring up at the empty rafters overhead.
Such violence, Ethan, a voice whispered into his ears. Focus on your studies, not on hurting people. You’ll have a bright future, I’m sure of it.
Ethan sighed as he felt the memory rise unbidden in his mind. It wasn’t the first time his mother had spoken to him like that, and it wouldn’t be the last.
You can’t always rely on your fists, she would say. Sometimes, words are all you need. They can change lives, even save lives. They can be the difference between a happy life and a miserable one. Remember that.
Yeah, well, she failed to see it wasn’t hurting people he was after, but pushing himself beyond his limits. To prove to himself that he could. To feel the limits of his body, and surpass them.
To feel alive.
“Your father wanted the best for you,” she said.
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Ethan gave his mother a sad smile. He talked with his mother a little bit after, but eventually, he excused himself.
She hugged him before he left. A tight, almost desperate squeeze that seemed to drag out for longer than it really did. Ethan wasn’t entirely sure how to respond and wasn’t able to think of anything better than giving her a couple of awkward pats on the back.
Then, when somewhere nice, he lit a cigarette. Stupid, useless, and unhealthy, but he had to do something to let off steam or his entire body was going to burst apart like a firecracker.
When it was nearly time for the cigarette to burn itself out, he suddenly got engulfed in bright light. He didn’t think, nor could he; it was just way too fast.
The last thought he had was something along the lines of ‘the fuck?’ before he crashed face-first into space-time itself.
-3-
Ethan slammed his head against the plush velvet pillow, groaning. Post-reincarnation—transmigration?—headaches were a real pain, especially when you woke up in the body of a drunken wastrel named Theodore Lockheart, the most indebted, despised, fucked up noble in the entire bordertowns—lands that were on the border of the world of the living; lands that were under the constant threat of the dead.
He was tired, irritable, and he had a headache so annoying it was almost as if his skull was split open. Not to mention, his nose was throbbing in pain from what he could only guess had been a one-sided beatdown.
Had the Baron gotten beaten to a pulp somehow?
It was possible, after all, Ethan did remember snippets of Theodore’s recent memories—nothing more than that, though. Theodore tended to suit up as a rich merchant. And he’d likely gone to the bar after losing his fortune earlier in the night, and then had likely fucked a wench or two, vented on the poor women, gotten punched and kicked out.
Groaning, Ethan peeled himself out of bed and forced himself to move. He had things he wanted to do today, like sit somewhere nice and contemplate the meaning of existence—or smoke cigarettes. But sadly, he had none, and he despised alcohol.
Strange, Theodore—no, Ethan, thought. Why do I so easily believe in all this? And why am I so easily accepting that I’m this bastard now?
Though the question was there, Ethan found that it didn’t bring up any emotions. It was like an empty sentence in his thoughts, with nothing behind it.
Ding! System Initiating…
Consciousness transferred...
Subject: Ethan
Social integration protocols activated.
Linguistic database uploaded. Communication in all known languages will be facilitated.
Confirmation: Subject has all their memories upon induction. Check.
Disclaimer: This is not a dream simulation. This is a permanent transfer. Subject has been induced to fully believe this reality, but nothing else inside the subject has been altered.
Confirmation: Memories and core identity remain unaltered.
Warning: The subject will perceive everything as real.
Directive: Enjoy the New World. Second chance protocols initiated.
The System has awoken within you. [Nur] is a world unimaginable power awaits. You, Ethan, have the chance to become extraordinary.
A [Quest] approaches!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Sensitivity]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Magic Perception]!
Congratulations! You have unlocked the skill: [Myriad Tongue]!
Ding! Please brace for loss of consciousness!
“What in the god-fucking-damned hell—?” Ethan muttered, then fell unconscious. When Ethan woke up again, a screen flashed in front of him.
Please select your preferred Class...
The screen, Ethan found, didn’t elicit any reaction out of him. It wasn’t shocking, nor unbelievable, it was just as if it was a universal truth he’d come to believe since childhood. Like a phone’s existence, or the internet, perhaps. The fact that he thought that way made him sigh. He just hoped anything else inside him hadn’t been changed.
Ethan looked through the page that appeared in front of him.
[Warrior (Common)]
Function: Frontline combatant
Prerequisite: None
Description: A Common-Ranked Class. Grants basic proficiency with all melee weapon types (sword, spear, ax, etc.)
Specialization Paths: Available after further training and/or meeting certain requirements: [Barbarian], [Knight], [Paladin], [Cavalryman], [Mercenary] (and more)
[Archer (Common)]
Function: Ranged Damage Dealer
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic proficiency with bows and arrows.
Specialization Paths:
Adjacent: Unlockable after further training: [Thief], [Assassin] (and more)
Advanced: Upon reaching specific requirements: [Spirit Archer], [Magic Archer] (and more)
[Mage (Common)]
Function: Ranged Magic User
Prerequisite: None
Description: Basic application of magical abilities.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after further study: [Warlock], [Alchemist], [Summoner] (and more)
[Healer (Common)]
Function: Support - Restoration and Enhancement
Prerequisite: A [Faith].
Description: Devoted healer, blessed with divine magic, requires [Faith] in a deity. A healer’s heart heals the spirit of ailing beings, providing great spiritual buffs. Can heal wounds and ailments of allies. Can enhance allied attributes and resistances.
Specialization Paths: Unlockable after advanced training (may vary by race or deity): [Temple Priest], [Battle Medic], [Nature Mender] (and more)
After looking through the available Classes, it didn’t take long for Ethan to immediately dismiss both the [Healer] and [Warrior]. [Healer] would be too weak unless he got to its Specialization Paths—not to mention he’d need to have faith in some god, which he did not—and [Warrior] meant he’d need to be close range all the time. Ethan didn’t like risk, thus that idea went to waste as fast as a blade through butter. That left him with two options, and a more or less clear idea of which choice to make.
[Archer] was dismissed for the sole reason that it didn’t appeal to him much, although he was indeed curious as to why it had [Thief] and [Assassin] as its Adjacent Specialization Paths. Regardless, there was only one choice left: Mage—something he’d have chosen anyway given that the system had given him [Magic Sensitivity] and [Magic Perception], although he’d yet to test those skills out. They seemed passive anyway.
Ethan selected his chosen Class.
Congratulations! You are now an [Unranked Mage].
You are capable of casting minor, beginner-level magics.
You can use magical implements and perform incantations with limited versatility.
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Basic Magic Script]!
Congratulations! You have gained skill: [Elemental Spells]!
Due to your [Magic Perception] and [Magic Sensitivity], the effectiveness of magical spells and skills are now increased by 10%!
“That’s it?” Ethan blinked. “I would’ve expected, I don’t know, for my entire body to feel on fire, or something.”
Not that he ever had that happen in his life. Fiction really put false expectations into his mind.
Theodore Lockheart
[Race: Human]⨽[Rank: G]⨽[Level: 0]
[Class: Mage]⨽[Rank: Unranked]⨽[Level: 0]
[Skills]: Basic Magic Script (Lvl. 1), Elemental Spells (Lvl. 1), Magic Sensitivity (Lvl. 1), Magic Perception (Lvl. 1), Myriad Tongue (Lvl. 1)
[Titles: None]
Ethan sifted through the skills to better understand what he could do now.
Basic Magic Script – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: This skill allows you to understand and write basic magical notation of the world. Connection Effect: [Basic Magic Script] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills [Magic Perception], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Elemental Spells – Level 1
Type: Active
Effect: You can cast basic elemental spells. At this level, your spells are limited in power and complexity.
Magic Sensitivity – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You possess a heightened awareness of magical energies in your immediate surroundings. You can feel faint tingles or experience subtle temperature changes when magic is being used nearby. This ability helps you identify areas with magical activity or sense the presence of magic. However, pinpointing the exact source or nature of the magic might be difficult at this level.
Magic Perception – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can see the underlying runes whenever a spell is cast in front of you. However, deciphering complex spells to view their runes will likely be blurry or misleading at this level***. Connection Effect:*** [Magic Perception] has established a Connection with one of your existing skills, [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you the ability to not only comprehend simple spells but also create the runes required to cast them. However, complex and advanced theories will likely be beyond your grasp at this level.
Myriad Tongue – Level 1
Type: Passive
Effect: You can understand and speak all the languages of this world. This skill allows you to communicate with most of the species you encounter. Complex conversations will likely require further development of this skill. Connection Effect: [Myriad Tongue] has established a Connection with [Basic Magic Script], essentially giving you an inherent understanding of the runic language of magic.
Holy... So, this world’s really like a game, huh? There are no stats, though. Why? Ethan rubbed his chin. The skills were nice. Ethan was excited to test his skills out when someone knocked once on the door and entered. “My lord,” said the man Ethan quickly recognized as one of his advisors, Cedric, “I’ve received notice that the duke’s men have begun their journey from the Capital.” He bowed. “They’re coming to collect tax.”
Saying so, Cedric left Ethan to ponder.
Tax? What?
In this world of swords and spells, tax consisted of the rarest of monster parts and materials. Priceless Relics were found in the Deadlands just out the border—lands that were full of dangers of the highest caliber, along with endless rewards. And because these materials and items were all of a higher value, not paying tax could easily put a small town like this into debt, unless the town managed to somehow attract a wealthy and profitable industry or find themselves a noble willing to spend his coin to help their people.
Such a noble couldn’t be Theo, clearly. After all, he was just a run-of-the-mill spoiled brat from a prominent aristocratic family—the typical wastrel born lucky into money and power without ever needing to work a single day in his entire life.
Regardless, the tax was Ethan’s issue now, and he wasn’t ready to deal with it given that Theo already had quite a debt in the first place.
Ethan’s eyes deadened.
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I first started noticing that something was wrong around 3 months ago. At the time, I was working from home and would usually light a scented candle while I worked, which usually helped me relax and stay focused on my work. I would usually burn through a candle a week, but over time, the candles started to take less time to fully burn up. At first, I thought that this was because of a change in ingredients the company that made the candles used, but the problem persisted after I switched candle brands, which I once again blamed on the candle manufacturers.
I kept this belief for another week until the first incident. While getting up from my computer desk, which faces away from the candle, to take a quick bathroom break, I caught a glimpse of the lit candle. A two-inch layer of molten wax rested on another three-inch layer of solid wax, the wicks rising out at first and being somewhat visible through the molten layer, finally breaking the surface and being slowly burned away. The flames flickered as I swung the door open and walked out of the room. When I returned 10 minutes later, the molten layer was gone, and the wicks had been shortened so that the flames rested right above the solid layer of the wax. At first, I thought that the glass jar that contained the candle was leaking, but after a short inspection, I was only able to find two small drops of candle wax that had solidified right next to the candle on the bedside table. I still had 2 hours of work left to do, but I was too lost in thought and was unable to do any work for the rest of the day.
Every night before I go to sleep, I like to read for at least 30 minutes, and while reading, I usually light a candle. Around 4 days later, I had mostly forgotten about the incident and went back to using candles. Due to my naivety, it returned.
I fell asleep while reading with a candle lit on my bedside table. I woke up to loud slurping noises. As I opened my eyes, the brightness of the light I had not turned off almost blinded me. As my eyes tried to readjust to the light and focus on what was in front of me, I saw a somewhat humanoid dark gray to light blue blur that contrasted with the white paint on the walls behind it. Another gray line stretched from the shape's head to the candle on my bedside table. I could feel my heart skip five consecutive beats. I opened my mouth and tried to force out a scream for help, but the pressure I applied to my throat was way beyond what it was able to handle, leading me to only produce a light wheezing sound. I tried to sit up or to at least prop myself up, but my muscles failed me. Trying to push myself up with my arms felt impossible. As I stared at the figure that had suddenly appeared in my room, my eyes finally managed to focus, making it possible for me to see the intruder who was now staring at me. The figure was a man at least 7 feet tall, fully naked; he looked bloated; his eyes were bloodshot and looked like they would pop out of their sockets; at any point, his skin was a grayish light blue.
HIS LIPS
His lips extended from his mouth like an elephant's trunk, which had been split in half. The lips extended from the man's face to the candle; the flames had been put out. He was using his lips as a makeshift straw, slowly sucking up all the molten wax from the candle, which had fully liquified while I was asleep. I laid in bed, unable to move, unable to scream for help, staring until he emptied the jar. His lips retracted back to his face, the molten wax solidifying on their tips and cracking, flakes of wax falling off the man's lips and falling to the floor. The man grinned, staring at me. The ridges and gaps between the teeth were filled in with wax, making it impossible to make out where one tooth ended and the next one began. The man opened the door he was standing next to, but instead of walking out of the room, he stepped behind it. His face peered at me from above the door, and then once again, like he had done to drink the wax, the man puckered his lips, which stretched from his mouth and floated to me. I shook and tried to roll over away from him. I wanted to get up and run, but my fear had taken over my body. Tears flowed from my eyes. He kissed me on the cheek, leaving flakes of wax and light moisture. He retracted his lips and lowered his head behind the door.
I don't remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, I saw the empty glass jar, which at one point contained the candle. Even though I had hoped that what had happened was a dream, it wasn't. I still had flakes of wax on my cheek, and on my bedroom floor, the wax in the jar had disappeared. I called the police, but they were unable to find anyone in my apartment; they also could not find any evidence of a break-in.
After the break-in, I started looking for a new apartment to move to, thinking that the man was tied to the building I was in, but even though I had thrown out all of my candles, I could not stomach spending another hour in my apartment, constantly looking over my shoulder or walking around with my back pressed up against the wall to not allow it to creep up on me. Thankfully, my friend Emma was able to let me stay over at her apartment while I looked for a new one for myself.
Me and Emma have been friends since we were 8, and we've been there to support each other when times get rough. This isn’t the first time I've had to stay over at her house for an extended amount of time; in fact, I have had to stay over at Emma’s as many times as she has had to stay over at my apartment, whether it was because of evictions after losing a job, breakups, or a candle wax drinking squatter. I didn't even know if it was human. I mean, sure, it looked like one, but human lips are not supposed to do what his did, and somehow it didn't have a reaction to molten wax being poured down its esophagus. I didn't tell Emma about what happened—the details at least—I just told her that a man had broken into my house and was watching me sleep. The only people I told the truth to were my therapist and the cops, and all of them disregarded what I told them as my mind making things up after a traumatic event.
For a while, I believed what they said—I mean, why wouldn’t I?—but then I started seeing him again. For a few days, I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me again like it had done during the night of the incident. For split seconds out of the corner of my eye, I would see the outline of a tall, bloated figure. At first, they were hours apart, but after a while, it became constant. He was standing in each room I passed, in every single dark corner I glanced past, and then he spoke.
“FeeD MeEeee”
It stood in the kitchen, peering over from a small gap between the fridge and the sink, where the trash can that had been knocked over onto its side usually stood. His voice was raspy, and every word that came out of his mouth was distorted as if he were gargling water, but still, I could somehow clearly make out each word he said from over 15 feet away.
“Please just leave me alone I… why are you following me?”
I shouted at the figure, the same fear that had taken over my body during the night I saw him for the first time paralyzing me, making it impossible for me to move anything other than my eyes, eyelids, and mouth.
“i’M sTarviNg, I nEEd You To FeEd ME”
It replied again. Now, stepping out from behind the fridge, he stepped directly onto a rotten banana. Its mushy brown content’s seeping out of the peel under the pressure of his decomposing foot, which was covered in scabs, and took up the same grayish light blue color as the rest of his body. He mostly looked the same; his bloodshot eyes bulged from their sockets, but now his tongue was swollen. It peeked out from between his bloated, cracked gray lips; it stared at me, waiting for an answer.
“Ok, I’ll.. I’ll feed you, but please just... leave me alone.”
I replied, the tone of my voice shifting into high-pitched squeals with every quick breath I took. He looked satisfied by my response. He somehow squeezed his bloated body back into the gap that was at least four times smaller than him. After peering over at me from above the fridge, he bent over backwards, his spine releasing a series of sickening cracks until he was fully obscured by the fridge, and then he vanished.
Still barely in control of my body, I limped over to the couch tucked away in the back corner of the living room, it took me at least 10 minutes to steady my breathing and 20 more to fully regain control of my body again but as soon as I did I ran out the house and to the nearest store, during the 15-minute walk he stared at me through dark windows and the backs of cars, peered out at me from gaps between leaves in the trees and bushes, he even followed me into the store staring at me from the middle of deserted isles before disappearing right before my eyes were able to fully catch him, once I finally got the candles I randomly picked four off of the shelves and rushed to the self checkout.
When I arrived home, I had 2 hours before Emma got off work. I didn't want to feed it while she was home, and I didn't want her to see it. I pulled out two of the candles from the black plastic bag and placed them on the kitchen table, the first a light blue candle named “Garden Rain” and the second a red candle named “Juicy Watermelon." I pulled out a lighter from one of the drawers Emma used after her stove stopped lighting on its own and lit each of the 6 wicks on the candles. As soon as I started seeing the wax melt under the heat of the burning wicks, I dropped the lighter onto the table next to the candles and ran out of the room. I could not stomach seeing that thing again; even just thinking about it made me shudder and hyperventilate. The paralyzing fear that seeing him caused me made me want to vomit.
At least 30 minutes later I started to hear it drink even though the living room and kitchen were separated by a wall, even though I had closed the door I could still hear what at first started as slurping sounds which were followed up by loud gulps, then it stopped, and once again 30 minutes later it started drinking, as the slurping started once again I heard the door to the apartment crack open, it was Emma, as she stepped through the door I saw her carrying two large brown paper bags of groceries in her hands, she was headed to the kitchen.
“Hey let me grab those for you”
I said running over to her, my voice shaking.
“Oh, thanks. Are you… okay, you look scared?”
My eyes shot wide open in a mixture of fear and surprise. I said the first thing that came to mind.
“Yeah just umm… I didn't expect you to come home so early and I got a bit spooked”
“shit sorry, I know I should have called you, work let me off early today,”
I started to turn away from her walking to the kitchen.
Trying to keep her away from the kitchen I told her to wait for me in the living room because I wanted to talk to her about something. I didn't know what I would talk to her about but that was a problem for future me to resolve, somehow it worked.
“What's that sound?”
She called out to me while walking towards the living room couch. It took me a few seconds to come up with an excuse.
“I think it’s the sink, or the pipes at least”
I opened the door to the kitchen with my eyes closed at first hesitant to look knowing what would be greeting me. slowly prying my eyes open I started to see its outline, my muscles started to lose strength as the details of the man came into my view, I felt the grocery bags start to slip from my arms, my knees buckled, face first I fell onto the kitchen floor scattering the groceries all over the floor, I mixture of a light scream and a yelp escaped from my mouth as my body made contact with the floor, Emma concerned for my safety ran into the kitchen, she didn't scream, using all of the strength and mobility I had left in my muscles I rolled over expecting to see her face drenched in terror, her body frozen still unable to move just like my body had done the first time that I saw him, but Emma looked concerned, the man was gone, she crouched down beside me.
“Oh my god are you ok? What happened?”
I looked around observing my surroundings.
“I um… I… I tripped on the little thing at the bottom of the doorframe”
I finally managed to blurt out another excuse, not being able to remember what the name of a door sill was. I started to sit up using a part of the energy that had returned to my body, pain pulsed through my chest and arms, Emma looked at me with a concerned face.
“You've been acting really weird since I got home, are you sure you're ok?”
“Yeah… I think I’m just having one of those days you know”
The confusion on Emma’s face said that she didn’t know and to be honest I didn't either, I guess my luck of pulling random excuses out of my ass ran out, Emma thought that she triggered some sort of PTSD response after barging into the house unannounced at first apologizing then trying to change the subject to stop my trembling which I was still unsuccessfully trying to hide from her.
“Did you buy candles?”
Emma asked picking the groceries apart from the garbage that spilled out the can that the man had knocked over, placing them on the table next to the now half-empty glass jars, the flames flickered above the inch or so of molten wax the man was unable to finish drinking.
“Yeah I’ve been struggling with work lately, they usually help me focus”
“Huh Interesting combination you’ve got going on here”
She looked at me and smiled slightly, I smiled back and chuckled to seem normal.
“Yeah even I don't know what I was trying to accomplish here, to be honest”
I tried to help Emma clean up the spilled groceries but she did not let me, she told me that I needed to recover like I had been in a car crash instead of having taken a little tumble. After a few seconds of silence, Emma spoke again.
“Anyway, what did you want to talk to me about earlier?”
A quick jolt of stress shot through my body, in a jumbled mess of lies and fear I had forgotten what I had told Emma, I sat there in silence for a few seconds unable to come up with an excuse
“I…umm… I don’t remember, it wasn't anything serious though”
“Damn did you hit your head too?”
She said once again proudly smiling at her joke.
At this point Emma picked up the last bag of potato chips from the floor and placed it on the table, then she opened the fridge and started loading the groceries into it.
“Anyway I gotta go get back to work’’
I blurted out after a few more seconds of awkward silence.
“Alright well good luck”
I walked over into the living room and sat down in front of my workstation, which now consisted of a laptop sitting on a small foldable TV tray that had just barely enough room left on it to fit a small USB mouse.
The last thing I remember, before I fell asleep, was me mindlessly scrolling through apartment listings while Emma watched a random 90’s horror movie I’m positive only had a budget of $500.
I woke up with a light stinging pain shooting through my dry throat, and a dim hissing sound caused by thousands of water drops striking the ground outside filled the room. I pressed the spacebar on my laptop, the brightness of the screen blinding me temporarily, after taking a few seconds to let my eyes readjust I managed to make out the time, 3:45 AM. A strong smell I was unable to make out the origin of assaulted my nostrils. Lavender.
The smell hitting my nose had the same effect on me that I would expect smelling salts would have on a weightlifter right before they set a world record. Before I knew it my legs were moving on their own at an almost uncontrollable pace, fighting back against my mind which was telling them to slow down after years of being used to navigating both mine and Emma’s apartment as steadily as possible to not bother the neighbors.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity I stood before Emma’s bedroom door, a faint, yellow, pulsating light radiated from a lamp and snuck out of a small gap between the door and the doorframe, reluctantly I pushed my left hand up against the door, my right hand grasping onto the door frame for a sense of stability, once the door was fully agape I scanned the inside of the room my heart skipping a beat for every humanoid shadow cast up onto the wall by the lights from the wicks which were set ablaze and were being slowly burnt away.
I walked into Emma’s room and made my way over to her bedside table to put out the candle, as I stepped closer towards her, her face became more defined, I could finally make out her features, she was awake, but no she could not have been, even though her eyes were wide open they never blinked, she didn't even move slightly, as I moved closer I finally managed to fully make out the expression of pure terror on her face, her mouth wide agape as if she was about to release a deafening screach, but she could not have, a single drop of solidified wax dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and clung to her cheek, my eyes traced the cream colored path back towards her mouth, first up her cheek then between the corner of her mouth and finally behind her teeth, there instead of her tongue or the roof of her mouth I saw a wall of wax which had filled in the entirety of her mouth.
I fell to my knees and hunched forward supporting my body weight with my arms, I was too late, I resisted the urge to vomit and got back up onto my feet, a mixture of tears and snot slid down my face and onto my lips, shaking now I slowly started limping over towards my phone which I had left on the couch next to where I had awoken just minutes before, just minutes before my life was destroyed because of my lies if I had just told Emma what I had gone through, if I had just told her what had happened on the night of the incident which now seemed trivial, even if she thought that I was crazy, I know that she would have complied just to make me feel comfortable.
It took me at least 30 seconds of repeated attempts to stabilize my hands enough to properly dial 911. “Someone broke into my apartment and hurt my friend” was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with that would not get the operator to hang up on me thinking that this was a prank call.
I sat there in the living room for an agonizing 10 minutes, crying, my sadness slowly transformed into anger towards myself, and my mind raced thinking of all the lies I’d told, I kept thinking that if I had just told her the truth she would not have been laying there in her bed, her body bloated, “every single orifice has signs of forced penetration and has been filled with what seems to be candle wax” is what was written on her autopsy report.
For a few days I was the main suspect in Emma’s murder, but due to the almost unstoppable crying and the unresponsive state that I was in when the police arrived, mixed with the lack of evidence of me having a way to produce 30 pounds of candle wax led to me being released out of police custody, but because I was the main suspect I was not told any details about what had fully happened to Emma, for days all I had to work off of was the image of her face frozen in terror, and a short glance I caught of her bloated body as she was being carted out on a stretcher.
I recounted every single word of our last conversations over and over again until they became permanently etched into my brain.
Emma’s parents originally wanted to cremate her, as that is what she had somewhat jokingly asked for whenever the topic of funerals came up, well she had joked about wanting to have had unpopped popcorn shoved down her throat before she was sent off to “scare the shit out of the guy cremating me” but due to all the wax which would have been impossible to get out of her body they were forced to bury her.
A few days before Emma’s funeral her body disappeared.
After Emma’s death, her parents took me into their home, after reading the autopsy reports and seeing her corpse they had thrown out every single candle they owned which made their home the safest choice I had, still, this did not stop me from buying a machete and keeping it under my bed, just in case.
I was laying on the bed in their guest bedroom The day that the police informed Emma’s parents about her disappearance, the bedroom is right above the front porch of the house, at first I heard them ring the doorbell which was followed up by 3 powerful knocks on the door, for about a minute I laid there on the bed listening to muffled voices exchanging distorted words I was barely able to make out which slowly transformed into distorted weeps, curious I lifted myself up from the bed, made my way over to the window and carefully lifted the bottom panel making Shure to not make too much noise, the distorted muffled sounds started forming into coherent words “We checked the security footage but the only strange thing we could see was a 5 second time jump” one of the officers spoke in a serious and almost monotone voice “which meant that the security guard who was the only person in the building had to climb down 2 flights of stairs walk through a 40 foot long hallway and then drag her body back up stairs and out of the building in 5 seconds” Emma’s mom let out yelp “ but don’t worry ma'am that’s actually good news because we know that her corpse is still somewhere within the building and was probably brought to the wrong floor by an intern, we’ve already warned all of the staff at the hospital to keep an eye out, and we also sent 5 officers to search the hospital”
I could not believe what I was hearing, my breathing quickened, but this time instead of fear I felt anger, that fucker stole her corpse and was probably in the weird separate plane of existence he always went back to after terrorizing me, cutting off chunks of her body, melting her, and drinking her.
I closed the window Emma’s mom's cries once again turned into a muffled rumble which was only possible to make out if you knew what to look for, I took a few steps back away from the window planning to lay back down, not wanting to bother Emma’s parents. I bumped into something, not something, someone, its fleshy towering form as solid as a wall sent me tumbling forward, I knew it was him, he had returned to take me too, to stretch his swollen cracked lips, push them down my esophagus, fill my lungs and stomach with wax. But despite all of that this time I was not scared, I was angry, and I was not going to stand there in terror like I had the last time I saw him.
I fell forward onto my knees my face missing the window sill just by mere inches, I put my hands onto the floor, lifted one of my knees, and rotated 180 degrees now facing the monster, to the right of him pushed up against the wall was the bed, light from the sun reflected off of the metallic button which kept my machete in it’s sheathe, the man started to stretch his lips, they were moving towards me, waving a wiggling through the air like a snake slithering towards me.
I dove towards the bed one of my feet pushing off of the floor and the other pushing against the wall which creaked under the pressure applied to it, I flew for a few moments before slamming down onto the carpet and sliding forward, the heat generated by my skin brushing against the carpet released a sharp stinging pain throughout my body, my outstretched arm landed just a few inches short of the machete, I quickly bent my arms, pushing my body up and crawled towards the machete. my fingers wrapped around the handle I spun around, my back pushed up against the bedside table, once again facing the man, he was still facing the window but his lips faced me and were just a few feet away from me, for what felt like minutes but was most likely no longer than a second, I struggled to hook my finger under the strap securing the machete into its sheath, as the lips inched towards me the man started producing gurgling noises, he was regurgitation wax.
I finally pulled the machete out of its sheath, I swung the blade at the man's lips, the blade was not met with any resistance as it sliced through the man’s lips which landed on the carpeted floor with an audible thud, the man did not have a physical reaction to my counter-attack, his lips kept creeping towards me, once again I slashed at the lips, still no reaction, I repeated this at least 3 more times.
I wanted to kill him, I wanted to take revenge for what he had done to Emma, but fighting back was pointless. I realized that no matter how much I tried to hurt it, I could not kill him, I could not get rid of him.
My rage dissipated and a mixture of fear and sadness crept in, and soon took over my body, I screamed for help, I screamed in fear, in agony, tears streamed down my face as the man's lips finally reached my face, he wasn’t met with any resistance as his lips snuck between mine, pried my jaw open and finally started to slide down my esophagus.
I heard the cops run up the stairs, they started banging on the door asking if I was okay only to have been met with muffled screams, hot wax started to pour down inside of me, the stinging pain of the heat made me want to plunge the machete which I had dropped onto the ground next to me into my stomach to create a gaping wound that the wax would hopefully funnel out of, the texture of the man's slippery, oily lips matched with the poison like flavor of the wax caused me to start gagging, I felt my insides bulging like at any moment my intestines would have been filled to the point where they would pop, I wanted to vomit, the drain myself of the filth I was filled with, but his lips had plugged my throat not allowing anything to get out.
Hearing my muffled screams the cops started kicking the door down, the man retracted his lips, the suction aided my attempts at cleansing my insides, I got onto my hands and knees streams of molten wax pouring out of me, solidifying on the the carpet, with another loud thud the door swung open slamming into the wall, the man was gone.
That’s the last thing I remember before I passed out, but according to one of the doctors who was in the ambulance that brought me to the hospital, I was still semi-responsive during the first 10 minutes of the ride to the hospital.
Approximately 13.4 pounds of wax were removed from my body, the doctors said that I was in a critical condition and some of them did not expect me to make it.
One of the officers who was there the day the man attacked me took a report of what had happened to me, due to the unmistakable evidence of what had happened to both me and Emma, and the fact that this was the 3rd instance of me reporting something like this the police finally started investigating who this man might have been.
Around a month later I was discharged from the hospital and once again have been staying in the living room of Emma’s parent's house.
I’ve been seeing the man again, candles were not allowed in the hospital I stayed at, which means that he’s probably very hungry, he’s close to attacking me again, I know it, he wants to finish what he started and I don't know if I have the power to fight back, I’m not sure if defeating him is even possible, I’m tired.
I’ve been seeing Emma too, her bloated, reanimated corpse often appears to be standing next to the man. If I let him take me will I get to join them? I’ve tried asking but they don’t answer, they just stare, I can’t keep living in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, I miss Emma.

My older, neutered (10y/o) mini poodle has been going through the wringer lately. He saw the vet after peeing blood, turned out to be a kidney stone - treated it and moved on. Back to the vet twice in the last year for yeast infections in ear, they swapped between infections - treated them moved on. Back again because muscles on his penis do not retract as well anymore so his little wiener was drying out. Because of the issue with his penis not retracting my vet advised that I keep an eye on his genitals and help him by gently pulling the skin back up and adding sterile lubricant when needed. I noticed today it was looking irritated and when I went to gently pull the skin white discharge squeezed out and had a gross odor. It must be from the last 3-4 days because I do keep a sharp eye on his genitals due to this ongoing issue. It looks like tooth paste/like a human genital yeast infection. I used a sterile cloth and water to gently wipe off the discharge and noticed there’s a not-insignificant amount of discharge kind of built up under the skin at least an inch deep inside. He only paid any attention and tried to lick it after I wiped it off so he’s in cone jail for now. When he has had yeast infections on his feet and armpits I have washed it with chlorhexidine gluconate cleanser with no adverse side effects. Would it be feasible to use this cleanser and a topical yeast infection medication like monistat to take care of this? On the farm I worked at they had used monistat on yeast infections and it worked then. Southern Oregon. He seems predisposed to yeast related issues and has mixed results with both oral and topical treatments. I have not made any food changes since finding a balance with his last infection but maybe it’s time for a new protein source…

I have a 16 year old Russian Blue. She’s my soul kitty. I’ve had her through all the craziness of life. Crap jobs, rough breakups, 4 moves, and 2 human babies. She’s my girl.
About 3 months ago she stumbled and fell. I thought she misjudged a jump but she kept shaking her head and doing a strange sneeze. I had noticed sneezing previously, but myself and our vet had been monitoring. She’s had asthma since I got her and has been off and on steroids since diagnosis. Took her to the vet. They can’t find anything other than being elderly but the vet said her head shake is highly indicative of a neurological issue. Upon visual exam the vet thinks it’s a brain tumor. She’s back on steroids. She has weird breathing attacks still but has stopped stumbling. She’s too high risk to be put under anesthesia due to asthma and age. She is also on a vitamin for elderly cats the vet gave us.
I suspect that she might have some kind of dementia, whether related to the brain tumor or not. Here are her current symptoms:

• Yowling at night when I go upstairs. She does stop when I speak to her or come back down and get her. She has always been very vocal generally.
• Licking/grooming things like tennis balls or stuffed animals. She’s always tried to groom me and my children/dog whenever anyone would let her.
• The sneeze twitching she has I described above.
• Episodic breathing episodes where she open mouth breathes for 5-10 min. She once did this for an hour and was seen by a vet, but had stopped before we got there. They could not find a cause. She does this between 2 and 5 times a day.
• Occasionally vomits. This is random. She used to do this from hairballs in spring and about 10 years ago she did it from food that was bothering her. Sometimes she vomits 3x a week.
• Seems uncomfortable sometimes and unable to “settle”. This is often at night.
• She is thin and has lost significant muscle mass in the last 3 years.

The positives: - Is still eating but seems much less interested in her regular food. She does eat though. Loves treats and cat friendly “people food”. - Grooms herself and her fur is soft without mats. - Sometimes plays with our dog. - Wants to be in the same room with us most of the time. She has her typical cat nap spots around but she isn’t hiding. - Sleeps with me most nights (I have 2 little kids so sometimes she can’t because I’m up or in their rooms. - Zero litter box issues.
Right now she seems stable. Some days she seems in pain or distressed because of her breathing. I believe it is my responsibility to make sure she does not suffer. My vet basically said the same and offered the advice of “you’ll know when it’s time”. But she is my baby and to be honest I’m afraid I won’t know when it is time.
A bit of a wall of text but I’m looking for advice on how to help her and make her time as happy as I can while she’s here’s But also, how will I know when it’s time?

Sort of a reference to this https://www.reddit.com/NatureofPredators/s/ASiX51M6GI
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TALK TO US.
Hey all! Welcome to the Tellus Child Services Q&A thread. If you got any questions about raising and/or caring for human children, ask away below or PM me directly. Your email address will not be publicly displayed and we will be discrete about your personal info, but we would appreciate if you would give your species so we can have some context to answer your questions with. Unless you chose otherwise, your species will be public and represented by an initial at the side of your user tag.
Please note that racist commentary will not be tolerated and will be taken down. I know there’s some hard feelings going on out there, but leave our kids out of it.
David Schneider, Head of Tellus’s Department of Child Services.
COMMENT HERE

• [ ] I am not a robot

What Species are you? - [ ] Smigli - [ ] Krev - [ ] Resket - [ ] Jaslip - [ ] Trombil - [ ] Ulchid

• [ ] (Hide race?)

User Name: —————————— GUEST ——————————-
Email —————————————-
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COMMENT ———————————————————————————
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SCALEOF1210 (K): What kinda of toys do human pups like?
DAVID: I dunno, what kinda toys do Krev pups like?
SCALEOF1210 (K): Oh.
DAVID: It’s alright. Just try to think through that lens and you’ll do fine.
_
GUEST (S): Why is being without your “clothes” so embarrassing? Is it religious?
DAVID: Not exactly. It started out as a way to stay warm when we migrated out jungles and savanna’s, but the side effect was that it made the absence of coverings a) feel insecure, and b) an open floodgate of carnal attraction. So actually, to answer your question, we’re covering our reproductive organs. It’s a modesty thing. The practice got applied to the kids anyway.
GUEST (S): Female humans have sex organs on their chests?
DAVID: No. but female mammaries become more pronounced as they mature and tend to draw male sexual attention.
GUEST (S): Whyyyyyyyy?
DAVID: Simply put: they remind us of mom.
GUEST (S): Ahhhhhhh!
DAVID: I was really trying to avoid spelling that out, y’know?
GUEST (S): Hey man, I don’t have have feet. Why would I care about tiptoeing?
DAVID: Huh. You know, I really think I’m learning a lot about Smiglis.
GUEST (S): Hey! Good for you! 🎉
_
GUEST (R): What’s wrong with regurgitation feeding? It helps with digestion.
DAVID: Maybe for avians, but It’s not sanitary for humans. We have a different digestion/immune setup. And no offense, It’s also just really, really gross to us.
_
GUEST (K): How do you hold a human pup?
DAVID: For Krev, cradle them in the your arm and be sure to support their head. That’s important because it’s too heavy for them to hold up by themselves. Again, no tail rides until they’re at least two years old.
_
SNOWFLOWER333 (J): Do humans kits really need to nurse well into adolescence? I don’t think I can keep it up for that long….
DAVID: Hang on, are you saying you’ve been NURSING one of your charges?
SNOWFLOWER333 (J): Right along side my own. I know Tommy’s not a jaslip and that it’s not human milk, but I figure it’s still better for him than formula. Should I not?
DAVID: Uhhhh… dunno. I’m gonna discuss this with my colleagues. In the meantime, stick to the formula we sent.
SNOWFLOWER333 (J): Alright, David. Though, about that first question….
DAVID: Long story short: we’d harvest milk from domestic bovines as a culinary ingredient and breakfast time staple, but breast feeding stops with infancy. You wouldn’t be sucking a teenager.
SNOWFLOWER333 (J): 😅oh good!
DAVID: Would be a little awkward, huh?
SNOWFLOWER333 (J):🤣A little.
_
GUEST (U): How do you hold a human pup?
DAVID: Cradled in your…. flipper. I guess. Just keep their head supported, it too heavy for them to hold up. You can also hold them to your chest with their head resting over your shoulder.
GUEST (U): We don’t really have shoulders.
DAVID: Nnnnnevermind then.
_
OBORSHINE (K): Is it okay to post my human child on the Internet?

DAVID: I suppose, but try not to embarrass him. OBORSHINE (K): 😜Aww but I’m a mom! Embarrassing him is my job! DAVID: In that case, we’ll send you his baby pics. 

OBORSHINE (K): Yeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssssss.
_
CALLMESPEED (T) Is it okay to give my child cybernetic implants to cure conditions?
DAVID: That will depend on what condition we’re talking about, but yes, probably. Be sure that they are approved by a human doctor, though.
_
GUEST (S): "Why do you have so many wiggly bits!"
DAVID: Erm, wiggly bits?
GUEST (S): “Yeah! With all the toesy toes and fingery things”
DAVID: Oh! Um, well other race have them too, but I guess ours ARE quite long and nimble. Well, we specialized pretty early on in tool manipulation, soooooooo.
GUEST (S): Raaaaaaaad!
DAVID: Happy to impress. I guess?
_
GUEST (J): How do you hold a human Kit?
DAVID: I wouldn’t know how to hold anything with a prehensile tail, you’re the experts there. But however you do it, be sure that you support the kids head. A human infants head is too heavy for them to hold up by themselves.
_
CALLMESPEED (T): Damn Schieder, always forcing us to cope with the weaknesses of the flesh, and denying us the certainty of steel.
DAVID: Ah, hello Malcom. Does Speed know you’ve hacked his account?
DAVID: Look, that’s not solely my decision kiddo. We put it to a vote. Maybe things will change in the future, but in the meantime, just wait till you’re 18 before you chop your limbs off. You can probably still get an implant, though.”
_
SHOPCLASSREJECT (S): Yeesh, David! How can my kid hit me with a ball from across the room?
DAVID: 😁Talent, my friend. Did you know that humans are being trained as grenadiers in the Consortium army? We have excellent throwing arms. Oh! Uh, you weren’t hurt though, were you?
SHOPCLASSREJECT (S): Eh, A little. My cheek is swollen, but it’s not like I had any bones or teeth to break.. I was mostly just surprised at how fast it came at me.
DAVID: Sorry Shopclass, He should have known better, but it’s a pretty common childhood offense for humans.
SHOPCLASSREJECT (S): Got a new rule, though: no throwing things in the house.
DAVID: Sounds like a good rule.
_
MRS.DOGGY (J): Hey, just got home with my kids and when I was helping Heather remove her foot coverings….. having 5 hind toes is normal for humans, correct? I just want to make sure.

DAVID: 😁 Correct. And we don’t have dewclaws either. MRS.DOGGY (J): Oh good! MRS.DOGGY (J): Erm , that it’s normal, I mean. 

_
GUEST (K): WHY WAS I REJECTED! WHAT DID I DO WRONG?
DAVID: Im sorry sir, I don’t know, but I’m sure it was anything against your character. Given our situation and our unfamiliarity with non-humans, we are being excessively cautious with our young and more than 75 percent of applicants were turned down as a result. Perhaps you can try again in a year or two when humanity is a little more accustomed to other sapient species. Please forgive us.
_
BUNCHBERRIES (K): So I noticed one of my female charges has enlarged mammories. Does that mean she secretly has children?
DAVID: No. It’s means she’s a teenager.
DAVID: That’s a normal development.
BUNCHBERRIES (K): 😮‍💨 Oh, thank you .
_
GUEST (R): How do you hold a human hatchling?
DAVID: Cradled in your wing-thing. Just keep their head supported, it too heavy for them to hold up themselves.
_
GUEST (S): How would one hold a human hatchling?
DAVID: cradled in your…. noodley appendage. Support their head.
_
GUEST (K): Me and my wife would like to foster, but- forgive me for asking- can we expect dung throwing to be a problem?
DAVID: 🤣HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Nah. I understand why you’re asking, but we’re higher evolved than that.
_
GUEST (K): Can I have one?
DAVID: You can apply to adopt or foster a child, but that’s no guarantee. We are VERY discriminate about applicants, especially nonhuman ones. Before you put pen to paper, I would consider very carefully whether it’s a child you’re looking for or a pet.
GUEST (K): What’s a pen?
DAVID: Ah, the times we live in…
_
NANNYBIRD35 (R): Jackie has accurately described me as a “Big Bird”, but I cannot for the life of me figure out why he sings a song asking how to get to a place called Sess-Me Street every other time he sees me. Was there something special about that place? What does it have to do with ME?
DAVID: Ok, that’s funny! He thinks you’re a character named Big Bird from a children’s show called Sesame Street [Video link]. Btw, let me know if she ever calls a Krev “Oscar”. I’m gonna laugh.
_
MRS.DOGGY (J): What is a “doggie” anyway, and why do my kids call me that?
DAVID: I was WONDERING when that would come up. I didn’t think it would be useful to explain before, but we had these domestic canines back home called Dogs and you kinda resemble one. They were intelligent, trusty, loyal creatures that helped us hunt, herd livestock, guard our turf, and and were beloved members of our families. None of the kids have met a dog in the flesh, but they’ve been lionized in books and cartoons and your resemblance to them is strong enough to trigger an instinctive adoration we had towards them.
MRS.DOGGY (J): They…. think I’m a pet? Like with you and the Krev?
DAVID: Hey, if they haven’t told you to ”Sit” or “Roll over” I think you’re good. But the point is, the kids trust you implicitly, and when you’ve suddenly been thrown to aliens after living in a hole all your life, having a comforting face to keep you stable counts for a lot.
MRS.DOGGY (J): Oh! 😊Well, I think I can live with that.
_
OBORSHINE (K): How do I take care of Samsons head fur? It’s getting so long and tangled!
DAVID: Oh right. Only jaslips need to brush. We’ll send you a proper hair brush. In the meantime. Get a jaslip brush- one with wide bristle spacing- and gently comb the knots out, starting from the bottom and slowly working your way up. We can also try to get you in contact with a human who has experience cutting hair.
_
TEACUPGUY (K): Dang, I had no idea human fur would get longer. How much longer does it get?
DAVID: Down to their hips or farther. Doesn’t really stop. You’ll either want to get it trimmed or let grow so you can tie it up behind their heads.
_
GUEST (T): How do you hold a human hatchling?
DAVID: Cradled comfortably in whichever bionic limb is not capable of crushing a car. Make sure to keep their head supported. They don’t have the neck muscles to hold it up
GUEST (T): 😊 Oh that’s fixable.
DAVID: Thanks but NO.
_
BUNCHABERRIES (K): David! Jeremy’s caught the MONKEY POX!
DAVID: … The what?
BUNCHABERRIES (K): What do I do?! He’s been getting worse and worse all week!
DAVID: Stay cam Berries, What are the symptoms?
BUNCHABERRIES (K): He’s broken out in purple spots! And he’s aslo listless. Stomach ach. Head ach. Poor boy can’t even get out of bed! He just sits there and groans and today he asked if I was an “angel” I’m at wits end!
DAVID: Ah. THAT monkey pox. School’s in session, right?
BUNCHABERRIES (K): Is that really relevant?!
DAVID: Just trust me. Check his backpack. Is there a pen or marker that is the EXACT same color as the spots?
BUNCHABERRIES (K): There is.
BUNCHABERRIES (K): Why?
DAVID: Take it and draw a little dot next to the ones on his skin. Make it roughly the same size.
BUNCHABERRIES (K): Ok. Done.
BUNCHABERRIES (K): OH THAT SEAKY LITTLE-!
DAVID: My work here is done.
BUNCHABERRIES (K): HE IS SO GROUNDED!
_
HAPPYHATCHLINGS: David, this is Tisa at Happy Hatchlings Early Learning School. We’ve noticed that our human students can’t seem to get comfortable in their napping nests and keep hanging their feet over the edges. It’s like they can’t curl up!
DAVID: They can’t. Not long term, anyway, and not as tightly as other Consiortium races. You’re going to need longer, flatter beds that they can stretch out on and keep their spines relatively straight. We’ll be sure to send you some cots.
_
DADJOKE (K): 😉 Thanks for the sponges, but I think my wife’s got bathtime covered.
[Folder Attachments: 7 photos ]
[Pic 1: A shot of two shirtless human boys [ages 5 and 6] in makeshift “war paint” running screaming past the camera as a jaslip with a wild grin skids around the corner after them.]
[Pic 2: The victorious jaslip sits on her haunches with one of the boy hopelessly tangled in her tails and the other grappled between her forelegs. The latter is getting her full professional attention as she licks the warpaint off his face, ignoring his cries of disgust and attempts to wiggle free.]
[Pic 3: Said boy apparently opened his mouth at an inopportune moment and is now spitting and sputtering while Mama Jaslip laughs herself to tears.]
[Pic 4: One of the boys laughing hysterically as the jaslip pins him down across her forelegs and licks his belly.]
[Pic 5: a close up on one boy getting his hair worked on, wincing uncomfortably as Mama Jaslip get a blunt claw in his eyebrow while maneuvering his head this way and that for the right grooming angle.]
[Pic 6: Arm around the boys shoulder, Mama proudly presents her work to the camera; one mostly warpaint free human with a complimentary cowlick. The lock of hair is stuck straight up, stiff with spit, like an alfalfa leaf. Mama is winking at the camera and doing her best thumbs-up while the boy is shooting a disgruntled side eye at his brother who is laughing at the abominable hairdo.]
[Pic 7: Mama has one of the boys lying on his stomach while she leisurely grooming his back. He’s resting his chin on his arms, looking sleepy. His brother, nestled among Mama’s tails in the back ground, is yawning. Mama kinda looks tired herself.]
[Pic 8: All three of them are asleep. Mama seems to have nodded off on top of the boy she was cleaning, her head draped across his back. The other is lying against her side, his head barely visible above the nest of tails blanketing him].
DADJOKE (K): The kids have started calling her “The Kissy Monster” when she gets like this.
DAVID: Oh my gosh! This is so freaking cute! Do have them use the sponges, though. Tongue bathing isn’t really doable for longterm human hygiene.
DADJOKE (K): 😊Glad you liked it. But yeah, I get it. Most consortium races aren’t keen on the slobber fest either.
CRAZYTAILS (J): 😏Funny, YOU didn’t seem to mind the other night.
DADJOKE (K): 😳…
DAVID: 😳…
CRAZYTAILS (J):😏 You forgot this was a joint account, didn’t you?
DADJOKE (K): Just wasn’t expecting you to be logged in right now. Hi sweetheart.
CRAZYTAILS (J): 😊Hey scalyboi.
DAVID: Um, hey, before you two keep flirting dirty, what was it the boys were marked with?
CRAZYTAILS (J): Hm? Oh, just washable marker. They were playing “Viking Warriors” or something, running around, slaying monsters, ambushing DadJoke in his den, and beating each other silly with pool noodles for a two hour straight. That until I, the dreaded Kissy Monster, vanquished them both and subjected them to bath and bedtime! Muahaha!
DADJOKE (K): As for what you really wanted to know, she didn’t suffer from licking the stuff. The markers are made with Jaslip kits in mind, so they needed to be nontoxic and tasteless in case they or their parents have to clean up some body doodling.
CRAZYTAILS (J): same with Jaslip cosmetics, btw. Some are even flavored. Makes cleaning up after dates pretty fun, right Daddy?
DADJOKE (K): Fluffykins, if I say I’ll be leaving the office in half an hour, will you stop embarrassing me on a public forum?
CRAZYTAILS (J): 🥰I’ll be waiting with the candles.
_
GUEST (K): Is it ok to pet humans pups?
DAVID: Lemme put it this way; what do you call a Krev who goes around petting Krev children?
GUEST (K): Creepy?
DAVID: 👉Bingo.
GUEST (K): Huh? What’s that mean?
DAVID: It means yes, petting kids is creepy.
_
DR.WORM (guess): Hey, what’s an appropriate amount of holopad time for the kids, 10 hours or 12?
DAVID:…
DAVID: Doc- First of all; not a real doctor, i presume?
DR.WORM (S): Sure ain’t!
DAVID: 😉👉👉But you ARE a real worm?
DR.WORM (S): YES! I KNEW I picked the right pop culture reference!
DAVID: 👍👏🏻Sure did. Sure did.
DAVID: Sooooo let’s talk screen time.
DR.WORM (S): Yeeeeeaaaaah aright, I was kiiiiinda guessing 10 was a too much. Is 8 right?
DAVID: Try two.
DR.WORM (S): TWO?!?!
DAVID: Yup.
DR.WORM (S): TWO HOURS?!?!
DAVID: Yup, yup, yup.
DR.WORM (S): HOLY [expletive] MAN! I’VE BEEN FRYING THEIR BRAINS!
DAVID: You open sometime this week, Doc? We’re gonna help you out.
_
GUEST (R): You let jaslip take care of your hatchlings? Are you crazy?! [COMMENT DELETED]
_
CRAZYTAILS (J): What IS a wolf? The boys Insisted I be one in one of their games.
DAVID: This guy [attachment]
CRAZYTAILS (J): Woah. Now THAT’s a handsome face.
DADJOKE (K): Eh-hem.
CRAZYTAILS (J): Well, not handsomer than my husband’s.
_
CRAZYTAILS (J): Is growing long head-fur some sort of defense mechanism against grooming? Because it’s starting to work. Hard to get the stringy stuff off my tongue. Bleugh.
DAVID: heh. Sounds like the boys need a haircut. Swing by Tellus, we got some barbers that can shape em up.
DAVID: Or just let them grow it out until they can tie it behind their heads
CRAZYTAILS (J): The latter sounds like less trouble honestly.
_
BETWEENBILLOWS (U): Should I be concerned that Maria has a figurine of a dead human nailed to a T on a necklace? It’s kinda morbid.
DAVID: Believe it or not, that’s a religious symbol. Did she not tell you about it?
BETWEENBILLOWS (U): David, she barely talks to us at all. It’s been three weeks and she hardly leaves her room.
DAVID: Hmm... Well THAT might be cause for concern. Let’s talk over PM.
_

A shoutout and apology basket to u/kabhes and u/HeadWood_ who’s suggested questions I kinda stole. There were several others that I wanted to feature but couldn’t figure out how to work with.

TLDR: After a life of feeling quite normal, a heartbreak led to me writing an extremely long obsessive letter to a girl, which led to a lot of self reflection. I am now noticing that my behavior falls in line with various mental disorders, but I'm not sure what. NO SELF HARM, NOT SUICIDAL
To be clear, I'm not expecting a self diagnose or magical Redditor to give me all the answers. But I'm very confused and quite disturbed right now, been taking personality tests and browsing personality disorder meme forums, and relating to a lot of memes from various subreddits, but never to a 100% level on anything. I've always considered myself very mentally stable (and never suicidal or self harming), but I'm seriously considering seeking professional help. I have no one in my life can talk to about my personal problems.
So basically I've always been a bit abnormal in some way or another, but never been able to acertain exactly what the problem is. In fact, I never thought I had any "problems". I fiercely denied the idea that I has any sort of "disorder, disability, or mental illness". Got diagnosed borderline autistic (specifically aspergers) as a teenager, told myself the doc were simply giving me that because she was friends with my mom (who was actually a teacher for special ed kids at school) who only wanted me diagnosed with something to belittle me for.
About me:

Was in foster care (switched between 5 families) until I was adopted at 13 I'm 24(M) now Divorced (8 month marriage, dated 4 month, I asked for divorce because she was "incompetent as a human being" as I summarize it) Dropped out of college due to procrastinating checking emails (was trying to be a pilot, and it's still my llife goal) Lived in my car for 4 months (best time of my life, total freedom) Joined the Army as a drone operator 4 years ago for a 6 year contract, it's made me depressed for many reasons, primarily because I hate it here and I can't leave (and no, I've never seen combat). I incurred a seriousy debilitating muscle imbalance while in in the Army (doing physical therapy for it right now) due to what I now believe was a form of 'body dysphoria' (was self concious about my posture, started comparing myself to other more fit soldiers while simultaneously trying to become ambidextrous, and essentially screwed up the right side of my body)

But here's what brought my situation to it's current state: a heartbreak of the most ridiculous kind. The Army took me to Poland for 9 months and I took a trip to Prague, Czech Republic. I met a local girl there and she was very interested in me. But I had to leave the next day, so I came back a month later and spent 3 days with her. She said she wasn't interested in romance anymore, but that we would be friends. But I was obsessed with her, and I desperately clung to the fantasy that we could start a relationship when I got out of the Army.
We texted for 8 months before she finally said she never even wanted to be friends, she was only still texting me because she felt bad about ghosting me, she even felt bad that she let me see her for those 3 days. She said she was trying to give me "hints" that she wasn't interested the whole time. The thing is, I saw the hints. I stressed so hard about what our situation really was, but made every excuse to continue hanging on to the slim chance that she liked me even just a little. But every time she texted, she was seemingly enthusiastic and friendly, even dismissed my worries when I asked her directly. At least until the very end. The heartbreak (3 months ago) was extremely hard, but what hurt most was that she didn't even want to be friends. But still, romance of the purest kind is what I dreamed of every day.
Since then, I've been out of my mind. Over the last 3 months, I've written a 190,000 word book (330 pages) titled "Analysis of My Time With [Her Name]: The Complete Narrative Perspective of [My Name]". I wrote compulsively at first, 10+ hours a day for a month straight, disregarding responsibilities (all but hygiene and eating). The compulsion has died down now, but I still write/edit every day until it's finished, at which point I will send it to her. It's extremely detail oriented, highly organized (sorted by 8 chapters and over 150 sub chapters, including a table of contents, many referals to others sections). It talks about literary everything relevant to her I can possibly think of (even including a mini-autobiograhy for context on "who I am"). I even made a spreadsheet summarizing our texts, and another 50 pages of my interpretation of lyrics to 200 songs of a curated heartbreak playlists I made.
It's not an angry letter, and it originally wasn't intended as love letter either, I avoided even so much as implying that I wanted her reconsider her opinion of me. But 2 months later as the pain of heartbreak subsided, I realized I realized I still want her desperately, so I added my "argument" for why she should give me a real chance when I'm out of the Army. There's details in there that surely make me look bad (open hosesty in a core theme), and I honestly don't expect her to take me back in any capacity. Hell, she probably won't even read it (although I'm sending a Czech translation copy for good measure). I know it's obsessive and absurd, probably to the point of being downright creepy. But I have to let her know everything I think and feel.
Anyway, what brings me here today is that writing this letter has been a coping mechanism of sorts to help me sort out my confusion. It's been a period of deep self-reflection. I recently began writing a section about my possible autism. In doing so, I started browsing aspiememes to understand what other aspies say about their condition. That led to me viewing the ADHD memes sub, where I found myself relating to the memes with greater frequency. And so on to the Anxiety, Depression, Bi-Polar, BPD, NPD, OCD, CPTSD etc. meme pages (even started taking online personality tests). In all of them, I related to a lot of memes (to various degrees), but never enough to fully say I certainly have one thing or another. And never to the extreme in any of them; It's like I have a mild form of everything.
But they also appear to have a lot of overlap. And the last thing I want to do is give myself a goddamm resume of mental conditions, or be someone who centers their personality around these things, or has to focus their whole life on managing it. It's an extremely hard realization I'm coming to and I don't like it. But at the same time, I feel like I'm tired of denying that I'm unwell. Maybe I want to embrace "the crazy in me" that I've repressed my whole life for the sake of social conformity. Maybe it'll get me a medical discharge from the Army. Maybe medications (or other form of treatment) will help me succeed in life. I don't know.
I'm not feeling like I'm a danger to myself or others, and Army Behavioral Health resources are just a hop, skip, and a jump away, I will likely seek it out soon. But I've noticed myself becoming more impulsive than usual, and I feel I'm becoming a bit unhinged. For example, I got in trouble last month for free climbing a 40ft rock cliff during a field event (I scaled it without incident, and starting going to a rock climbing gym afterwards). And bought a new VW Golf GTI last month, and I've always enjoyed reckless driving (once crashed a car trying to rally it, passengers frequently say they fear for their life, regardless I consider myself a good driver).
Anyway, just wanted to see what random interest strangers have to say about any of this.

I purchased a bag of regular coffee and the award winning decaf coffee from BlendIn.
The boxes they came in were pretty damaged and banged up, so I pulled them out of the boxes.
What I didn't realize is that the bags themselves were unlabeled. I'm now not sure which bag is the regular coffee and which bag is the decaf.
The other irony is that by many accounts, this decaf doesn't taste very decaf. Oh the humanity.
Any thoughts about how I could discern the two?
Edit: On another thought, if I can't taste which one is Decaf then I've accomplished my mission of finding a Decaf that tastes like regular coffee which is nice, right?

Hello all. The title is not clickbait. Just wanted to provide a post now that I am nearing the 2 year mark from infection. I have posted on here previously but deleted it as I wanted to just give this one post some light. For context, I’m in my early/now mid 20s, was in the middle of grad school, was an athlete/active/outgoing. My timeline is below (If you’d like to just skip to how I’m doing now, just keep scrolling down until the April 2023-Present). I would also like to say beforehand that the vast majority recover significantly faster than this. This is not the norm, and please don’t panic if you just got sick. You’ll likely recover in weeks.
August 2022: Initial infection. Swollen tonsils, rash, fever, etc, labs eventually come back positive for mono.
September 2022: Acute infection symptoms still prevailing, somewhat improved late in the month. Other notable occurrences: ER visit from tonsils obstructing my breathing.
October 2022: Felt like I got hit by a bus. Insane flu like symptoms, fatigue, brainfog, PEM, muscle aches, nerve pain, dizziness, dissociation, feeling of body not able to remember to breathe (very weird version of shortness of breath), horrible GI/IBS like issues, light sensitivity, noise sensitivity, genuine short term memory loss, motion sickness, heart palpitations/PVCs, temperature sensitivities, began losing weight/muscle from inactivity
November 2022 - June 2023: Virtually zero progress. Symptoms I listed above would cycle over and over randomly. I became obsessed with trying to feel better, track symptoms/what treatments worked or didn’t, and every single movement I did every day I thought about in terms of feeling worse or better. Doom-scrolled most of the day. Horrible on the mental health. I thought I had ME/CFS and that I’d have a slow and painful life, one that I’d rather not live if I have to be honest. Was barely able to keep up with all of the exams/labs/assessments/classes that came with grad school. I almost had to drop out. No parties. No sports. No hanging out. Couldn’t drive. I missed most of my classes. I felt like I had the flu every single day, all day. In any moment where I felt I could be doing better or I found something that might be helping, it didn’t. Went right back to flu like symptoms. Months 3-11 were truly hell. At this point, I lost 40 pounds of good muscle/fat and all my athletic abilities were gone. I felt so left out, alone, isolated, and depressed.
June 2023-September 2023: I am struggling to keep up at my internships. The hot weather made my brainfog worse, and I still had significant GI issues, light sensitivity, and noise sensitivity. On a positive note, my overall cycling of symptoms began to become less and less intense as it neared September.
October 2023: I will never forget this month. As I was still struggling at new internships, I vividly remember a string of days that I felt were better than usual. Usually after this happens, it goes right back to the same old stuff. But this time, it didn’t. Everyday became a “not bad” day. This was progress that I never ever thought would be possible.
November 2023-March 2024: Very slowly, this string of “not bad” days kept turning into some “good” days. I still had some ups and downs but, by winter time, I genuinely was able to feel like a functional human being again. I was able to go to work, study, hang out, and drive again. My brainfog has improved. All of my symptoms above have improved. The only one that really did not was noise sensitivity. Would I have occasional flares of awful GI problems? Yes, but so does every 20 something year old in this day and age from all the processed stuff we’ve been consuming. Occasional pain or headaches? Yes, but very normal amounts, just like any other normal person.
Late March/April 2024-Present: My brainfog, fatigue, and other symptoms, are afterthoughts. I don’t think about my symptoms most of the time anymore, because I don’t have them. My noise sensitivity improved so drastically over the past month that I’m now able to listen to music consistently for first time since getting sick. Having caffeine feels normal again somehow. I’m able to have some alcohol again. I can drive again. I went to bars and clubs with friends for the first time again. I went to weddings again. I went to trips with my family, friends, and significant other again. I graduated college. No more PEM crashes. Despite all odds, despite these symptoms, despite it being nearly 2 years, I have recovered. The only remaining symptoms of occasional muscle aches/heart skips/GI problems I really think are just from being so inactive for so long for the first time in my athletic life, and my autonomic nervous system/vagus nerve still being a little fried (but about 90+% back to normal). All those nights of crying, suffering, having horrible brainfog to the point of thinking I’m losing my mind, the nerve pain, heart palpitations, feeling so alone and wanting to not live life anymore, were gone. I don’t care what everything says here, and online. You can recover. I did in 2 years. The people who have also done this really must have decided to never update their progress on here, or anywhere. I don’t blame them in a way, this was by far the worst and darkest time in my life. But I can live again. I feel free.
I love you all and really hope you realize no matter how horrible you’re feeling right now, you can recover. There is no magic bullet right now that fixed it for me either. I’m sorry. The amount of tests I did at doctors offices, supplements I’ve tried, prescriptions I’ve tried, all either did not help or were incredibly inconsistent. Time was truly what healed me. Not over weeks, and not even over some months. It was over many many months. My heart breaks for all of you suffering and I will not forget everyone that’s still suffering. I hate how I can’t give everyone here exactly what I desperately used to scroll for; a treatment. But I can give you my assurance. I believe in you all, and I can’t wait for when I hear about some of your recoveries. Thanks for the read. Feel free to message with anything.

• Ev ____________________

Some meds I tried over the course of the last 2 years that either did not work, or were mid at best and had side effects (this is simply documenting what I tried and I DO NOT endorse/recommend any of these. Please ALWAYS talk to your doctor or pharmacist before trying any medication): B complex, Vitamin C, Vitamin D, zinc, ginger, 2nd gen antihistamines (like Claritin, Zyrtec, Xyzal), melatonin, Metamucil, ondansetron, modafinil, caffeine, CoQ10, ICS/ICS+LABAs (Pulmicort and Breo specifically), albuterol, monolaurin, bupropion, glycine. There were a bunch of others (like ibuprofen, Tylenol, viscous lidocaine) that I used in the beginning to help the initial infection, and a bunch of others that I did not try long enough to put on here. There were also a bunch of events and symptoms I did not mention above for simplicity sake. Please talk with your provider or pharmacist with any medical questions or if you think you may be having any other serious health issues. Thank you all again for the read, I will update you all once I get back into working out again in the coming weeks!

The wedding wasn’t what Exuberance had in mind when she was a child–or, rather, when she was an even younger child. No, sixteen isn’t still a child… Right?
For starters, her father wasn’t with her to walk her down the aisle. Secondly, she was marrying a peasant… just a dashing and mysterious and tortured one! Even though he tended to be a little possessive over the kingdom that wasn’t even his yet, and even if he sometimes wore her jewelry without her permission (before losing it), they loved each other! That’s all that mattered.
Exuberance knew how unsightly it was for the Exuberant Lady to be marrying a peasant… BUT THIS WAS HER KINGDOM NOW!
Maybe?
She’ll work that out with Invincible.
Anyway, this day was going to be perfect!
…
The baby cried in Exhuberance’s arms, the exhausted young mother cradling him. This… wasn’t where she was expecting to be within a year. Alone in the birthing room, the midwives have left to fetch food for her and Invincible never shows up.
He’s busy. She said to herself. He’d probably faint while watching anyway! Exuberance laughed at this thought, she’d have to tease Invincible about that some time.
After her son finally fell asleep, and after finally getting food, Invincible finally came in, taking to crouching by the bed. Exuberance smiled at the baby and then at her husband… the two looked so much alike. Their son has inherited Invincible’s darker skin, dark hair, and dark eyes.
“He looks a lot like you, yeah?” The Lady chuckled. “Minus the scowl and the eyebags!”
Invincible looked at her, his eyes flickering with very mild amusement.
Grouch.
Exuberance passed the baby to her husband, who awkwardly cradled him. “Our prince…” He said.
“What should we name him,” the Exuberant lady asked tiredly, her body was slowly shutting down, her energy wasn’t infinite, after all.
“Something noble… hmm,” Invincible looked up thoughtfully. “Undauntable.”
Exuberance cracked up. “Is that a real word?!”
“Oh, please, it doesn’t have to be a real word, it’s a name,” Invincible said, unclear if he was being playful or not.
Exuberance laid back into the bed, her muscles relaxing. “Whatever you say, my liege,” she said with a smirk before dozing off…
Moonwatcher stood there, ready to guide Undauntable to his mother. After a small back and forth before, Wren finally convinced Undauntable to be the one to retrieve his mother with the Night Dragon.
“I’m telling you, I can take care of the city for a day!” Wren said, grinning. “Along with your royal kissups!”
“I’m sure you can, it's just— wait what did you call them? You do realize you’re technically one of those yourself!” Undauntable teased.
“Oh shut up!” Wren laughed.
Moon waited, looking ready for anything… After all, compared to the journeys she’s been on– this is like going to the market. Once Wren notified Jade Mountain Academy’s staff about this mission, Moon got pardoned from school for several days– plenty of time– so all was well.
Undauntable tied his hair back and strode to Moon, due to his Dragon still not being so good, Ivy tagged along.
Every action had a consequence, everything that happened created a new future, and Moon’s powers exploited that fact. They were headed to Safe Harbor, or, rather, the outskirts of it.
Undauntable gave Wren a hug, “I’ll be back soon don’t worry, you won’t be stuck running this place for long,” he said.
They separated, and Undauntable climbed onto Moon, behind Ivy.
“I’ll be FINE,” Wren said with a dismissive hand gesture. “Good luck guys, Pyrriah’s a messy place to travel around.”
And family troubles are even messier… The City Lord added to himself grimly.
…
Safe Harbor wasn’t THAT far away… In the grand scheme of things at least. But Undauntable’s tied stomach made every minute feel like an eternity.
Ivy would relay directions to Moon upon the dragon’s request, and the young City Lord felt proud of himself for understanding what the NightWing was asking. The three flew over a large, large, LARGE muddy expanse, which Ivy explained to be “MudWing territory”. She proceeded to dump MudWing facts on Undauntable, which the City Lord didn’t mind at all.
…
After taking several breaks (Moonwatcher over exerted herself just a tad bit by carrying two humans for a long trip), the trio made it to Safe Harbor. They stopped in view of the city, a chilly breeze swept through and clouds were gray and thick, not a single ray of sunshine to be seen. Undauntable chose to not see this as a bad omen.
The City Lord turned to look at Moon, who, judging by her strained look, was sifting through futures, looking for commonalities in terms of Undauntable’s mother’s location. Ivy, who sat on the nape of the NightWing’s neck, rubbed her head reassuringly.
After a few minutes, Moon perked up and growled something that Undauntable recognized as a “follow me” of sorts.
As the small group walked, Undauntable fidgeted. So long… It’s been so long since he’s seen his mother…
Did she change? Will she be proud of him? Should he leave out the fact that he and his friends beat his father into submission?
Ivy looked back at him. “Soooo, Undauntable, you excited?”
“Oh um,” the Lord perked up. “Yeah, but also nervous.”
The girl's expression softened. “I’m sure everything will be fine, besides, it’s not like you never met her before. And at least she didn’t try to sacrifice you to dragons, like SOME parents we both know.”
“I suppose.”
Ivy pulled her hair out of her ponytail and turned to look ahead. “Point is, you have the right to be nervous, but don’t let that dampen your excitement. I’m happy for you, Undauntable.”
…
The trio continued to trek on through the moistened terrain, reaching a dark forest of fir trees. The sun had set and, since it grew increasingly difficult to follow Moon, Undauntable took to riding on her behind Ivy. The girl was grumbling a conversation to the shy Night Dragon.
The City Lord felt itchy and tired, letting out a yawn.
“Don’t fall asleep on me Undauntable,” Ivy chuckled. “I can’t guarantee how good of a first impression that’d be.”
Eventually, near a shore, light was spotted. Not just any light though, lanterns! Lanterns that belonged to several small cottages.
Undauntable felt Moon’s muscles tense, she must be wondering if these humans would be scared of her… Old habits die hard after all, and some people really get set in their ways. Undauntable listened to the waves lapping at the rocky shore, and felt his nerves cool down.
Until a scream was heard.
An old lady, holding her… regular sized cat… spotted the three (particularly Moon) from her circular window.
In a neighboring cottage, one that was in worse condition than the old woman's, a younger woman slammed open her door. “Hey! Tuna! Can you quit it with your nightly shriek—” the woman interrupted herself upon seeing Moon, her eyes widened.
The warm light of the lanterns was just enough for Undauntable to recognize the woman.
It was her, it was his mother, Exuberance.
The City Lord quickly dismounted Moon and ran to his mother, emotion welling up in his belly.
“Hey! Who are you?!” The woman yelled as Undauntable hugged her.
He realized with a burst of affection that he’s grown taller than her.
Exuberance pushed Undauntable away, creating a separation. However, before she could tell him off, she recognized his face.
“Oh, it’s you, Undauntable! Don’t scare me like that!” She said… almost too casually.
The City Lord smiled. “Mother! I missed you so much!” He went in for another hug.
“Er, I missed you too. By the way, is that your dragon?”
Undauntable turned. “No, that’s my friend, Moonwatcher!"
The woman blinked. “Oh wow, my son, friends with dragons, huh? You sound like that girl I heard about…” She trailed off, the gears in her empty head turning. “The Dragonslayer? No, no, that’s someone else… The Dragonspe– The Dragonspeaker! Yeah, her.”
Undauntable looked back, and saw Ivy (who still sat on the amused Moonwatcher) give him a thumbs up.
“Mother, she’s my girlfriend,” the boy informed her lovingly.
“Who? Her?” Exuberance pointed at Ivy.
“No! The Dragonspeaker!”
Undauntable’s Mother smirked and shook her head. “I have a lot of things to catch up on, huh?”
“Yes!” Undauntable answered eagerly. “And I have so much to tell you!”
“Alright then Undauntable, you and your friends can come inside. Although,” Exuberance glanced at her cottage’s door. “I don’t know how the dragon will fit.”
A/N: I'M BACK. I've been so busy but I haven't gone a day without thinking about updating this fanfic! Sorry for the delay or for any messy writing😭😭😭 Ill TRY to upload the next part soon teehee
Have a good day/night <3

"hello, new visitor, if you're seeing this you're in the land of the vanished, if you're here it means that no one has thought about you for several months, fear not I wrote a book about my journey, in hopes that it'll help newcomers like you".
It was a tuesday, 6am, my brother Joe, jumped on a plane to Canada.
He was successful, or so I thought.
At the time I expected him to return home in 2-3 months, however this wasn't the case, after 4 months I finally called the cops to report a missing person.
Eventually five months passed and I decided to go searching for him.
After another month I got on a plane to Canada.
"What if he was kidnapped and then brutally mutilated," I thought as my heart raced.
Joe gave me the hotel he was at before he left, this gave me a few clues but it wasn't much, when I arrived I asked the manager if he saw Joe leave the hotel or if he knew about Joe's whereabouts.
"I never saw Joe leave, his room is still empty so you can check it out," the manager said. "What room" I responded. "Room 303, I'll escort you there" the manager said.
The bright lights reflected the hall floors. "Why would this man be following me into Joe's room, what if he killed Joe, what if I'm next" I thought as I began imagining my corpse in a dumpster next to a Denny's somewhere.
After a few minutes of going upstairs I remembered my 15th birthday, that day I learned that all my friends were fake, not a single one came to my birthday, neither did my parents, In fact they didn't even set up the party, Joe set up the entire party, helped me set up invitations for my friends, and was the only person who even bothered to be there.
"Can't believe I forgot about Joe for those five months," I thought as we finally arrived at room 303.
"Ladies first," the manager said.
I became paranoid as I entered the room with the manager behind me.
*Slam.
The door was slammed closed as I investigated the room, not thinking much about it I continued investigating, first I checked the bedroom, I found Joe's phone randomly on the floor.
Then I heard the sound of someone locking. The manager lunged at me with a knife. Adrenaline rushed through my blood stream as I dodged the knife, dashed into the kitchen, and grabbed a knife. The manager suddenly became scared, or at least he looked scared since I also had a knife.
I was able to unlock the door while simultaneously watching him for any sudden movements, my back leaned on the door as I unlocked the door without looking, I'm very lucky the lock didn't require a key from the inside.
I swiftly opened the door and ran downstairs, the manager followed, my legs began shaking uncontrollably. The adrenaline had officially ran out, the manager continued the chase.
"There's cameras up here!!," this one sentence alone made the manager stop what he was doing, go on the floor and start crying knowing he would be exposed for his attempt at killing.
I became very confused, "why was he crying" I wondered. I then realized this was my chance to escape, I escaped that horrid hotel.
"Turn on you stupid thing!!" I yelled at the phone as it refused to turn on due to its lack of battery. I decided to find a hotel where I could charge my phone and rest for a bit.
I couldn't go to this one since the manager almost killed me, luckily for me a hotel wasn't too far away from the other one, a common trend done by many hotel companies.
I rented a room for $70 a day, I had $100 left.
"Did the manager kill Joe, he might've been trying to kill me in order to ensure no one finds his remains," this thought alone had me up the entire night.
I continued my investigation believing there's still a chance that he's alive, I checked Joe's phone in hopes of finding his whereabouts.
I found a few messages on his phone, except a cut off message on bumble. He was messaging a woman named Katelyn. "Maybe he was living with that woman's home" I thought.
After reading enough of the messages I was able to find the woman's address.
On my way there I felt a bit light headed, I clasped onto the ground, all thoughts vanished as I began to fade away.
I woke up with my shirt soaked in water, same with my pants. My feet felt the wet carpet touch my feet as the coldness sunk in.
My nose burned as the smell of several moldy walls intoxicated my lungs.
I was surrounded by darkness, I ventured this darkness in fear, what if I wasn't alone, what if I just feared the dark. The sound of flies every once and awhile echoed in my ear.
I would soon realize that both of these were true.
My eyes saw a light illuminating in the distance, I dashed towards the light, feeling warmth for the first time being in this place, it felt amazing until I encountered another human being.
"Judging from your number, you must be a newcomer," the man said.
"Follow me" the man added. He refused to elaborate further, I didn't know anything about this place so I reluctantly followed him.
The man gave off a very creepy vibe, he wore a black coat with a yellow stripe on his left sleeve, his sleeve had a hole revealing his or a number, 64 was his number.
"What's your name," I said attempting to strike some conversation, instead of keeping the strange atmosphere. He continued walking without a sound to be heard from him.
A flashback struck me reminding me of the very possible chance that this nameless man could try and kill me.
"It's not like you have a choice" my brain told me as I continued to follow him.
A sudden bright light from the sky hit me. I noticed a village in the direction we were headed.
A man in a fox mask approached us, his mask was gray and black both having different sides of the mask, the man held a baseball bat with barbwire wrapped around the wood, the wood was a grayish color.
"Mike, who have you brought to our village," the man said. "A newcomer" Mike responded.
"I assumed the person who brought me here was Mike, the other guy's name has yet to be revealed," I thought.
"My name is Michael, what is your name, newcomer," Michael said. "My name is Jamey," I responded. "Follow me, Jamey," Michael said. Michael took me to the village, where I was given three job choices.
"Alright before we set you up with a house, you'll need a job, your current number gives you three job choices," Michael said.
"Michael, what's the firing squad," I said.
"The firing squad moves through several other rooms exterminating monsters and other hostile creatures" Michael responded.
"Training is optional since we don't expect most to come out alive regardless" Michael added.
"Although firing squads dangerous I don't wanna live here forever, in fact I still need to find Joe," I thought.
"You may be reluctant to join the firing squad, however joining the firing squad is one of the best ways to explore the land of the forgotten, thus increasing your number," Michael said.
"What is the number?" I asked Michael
"The number is your lifespan, the amount of rooms you explore the bigger your lifespan becomes, your current number says you have 11 years, this is one greater than the number every newcomer gets" Micheal said.
"The number is typically used to determine what jobs you can get as well," Micheal added.
Michael escorted me to the barracks where I'd be assigned my first mission.
I refused to do any training, mainly because I wanted to begin searching for Joe as quickly as possible, he may have gotten stuck here, although the possibility was slim it was still a possibility.
Although I refused training Micheal gave me a guide that contained 10 pages, the pages look old, it's cover was incredibly dusty, despite all that its leather still felt smooth.
As I approached the barracks my feet were no longer greeted with gravel but mud, my feet sunk into the mud, the process of pulling my feet out the mud for every step became tiresome. I was sent to collect rice at room 23.
An 8'9 man approached me, "name's sergeant Sergio, I'm your commander from now on!!!!" Sergeant Sergio yelled as spit was launched onto my face. His foot shaked the floors, you could hear his footsteps from a mile away.
Sergio escorted me to the firing squad. On my way there I heard the sweet crunch sound my feet made when it collided with the gravel. Sergio's veins seemed to always be popping out, his muscles always tense, he seemed to always be excited or angry.
Sergio violently munched on so candy bar, it's wrapper was red and white, spelling out Snickers.
Sergeant Sergio and I met my comrades, Joseph Johnson, Kevin Kent, Niko Nagi, and Kenny Sparks.
"Everyone listen one, your mission is to acquire at least 10 pounds of rice preferably from room 23, if you are unsuccessful, you are not to return without a casket, do you understand!!" Said Sergeant Sergio.
"Yes sir" we all replied in unity. Looking at my comrades I attempted to predict which roles each would follow.
Joseph, he wore a black hoodie, long sleeves concealing his number, and sweat pants, he stood tall with a very confident impression, he'll lead us through many struggles and keep us in one piece.
Kevin, he strafed back and forth nervously, his face seemed a little pale, easy to intimidate however this does mean he probably won't do anything stupid, he's the weakest link.
Niko, with his cold expression he would deal with the most extreme situations, his impression marked him as a savage who showed no mercy, his only goal being survival, he'll keep us alive but we may lose our sanity in the process.
Kenny, her inability to stop eyeballing Sergio's candy bar gives the impression of one who seeks food, this may affect us in the long run if we make it that far, her craving for food may look small but may result in someone who reacts based on impulse and impulse alone.
We began are journey as we left the warmth of the village we ventured to the next room. My feet were no longer greeted with gravel, mud, or anything of the sweet outdoors but the cold wet carpet once more, this time no lights were in sight. I fearfully walked through the darkness, I could still see a few of my comrades except Kevin, he ran off into the darkness, his screams echoing through the soulless tunnels.
*Crunch. The sound of a half full bottle of water made as it collided with my feet. Niko pulled out a lantern bringing me joy once more, no longer would we be in complete darkness. Until it shut off, fear struck me once again. A heard a very loud roar followed by the loud footsteps of a spider, I then noticed Kenny eating a potato, Kenny also had a ton of water bottles.
Niko threw a torch revealing a terrifying spider, the spider was enormous, it's size equivalent to a truck. Kevin's corpse was now in sight as it hang there waiting to eaten by the spider.
I was suddenly frozen, my body stood still not responding to a single command I gave it. *Bang, the sound of a gun, followed by the flash from its muzzle, Niko welded a desert eagle, A few moments later another bang, and another until only the sound of desperate clicks could be heard, we all dashed through the room without thought of where we were or where we were headed.
The spider roared one last time before collapsing onto the ground. We approached the next room, freeing us from the darkness and freeing are nose from the terrible mold smell that was burning our noses. Kenny, noticing a bag of potatoes dashed without hesitation sealing her fate, what appeared to be a humanoid like figure completely composed of black mold snatched her up refusing to let go as she turned to dust. She was nothing but dirt in only ten seconds.

My family has always been of great minds. I hated it. Growing up and having to study day and night to try and live up to them was extremely exhausting when I couldn't care how things worked as long as I was happy. I gave up but somehow everything kept turning out to be true.
Over my lifetime I have become the Gorden Ramsey of the science world. Known for my temper and also for huge things like curing world hunger using play-doe and cancer with baby powder I got in a back street ally while drunk.
To get my family off my back I started making random ideas so they could see me as a failure and leave me alone but...they keep working. And soon people started to praise me. Fame has left me with nothing but more and more attention. So today I plan to make sure that everyone can just think I'm insane and leave me alone and not some king.
I chuckled like a kid who was opening a Christmas present as I heard the crowd of people chatting and talking loudly as I hid behind my stage in a grey tight suit that my sister had picked out. I sighed and was ready to walk out and make a fool out of myself but my brother stopped me.
" Jack... I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Dad would have loved to see you right now. "
I thought it was ironic because last night while chilling on the couch watching TV and eating chips I made this theory up. He dusted off my shoulders held them tight and looked me in the eyes taking in the moment.
" go give them hell man. "
He had a goofy smile just like Dad but spoke with confidence.
" you got it, man. "
I heard my name being called onto the stage and the uproar startled me for a second but I collected myself and headed out after giving him a nod just to entertain him.
The lights were blinding as I grabbed the mic and looked at the table in front of me with a small box with the ingredients I needed and a chalkboard behind me.
After I stood still for a minute the crowd died down. I had not told anyone what I was presenting so the whole world was watching without a clue of what I was doing this time.
"Hello everyone. Today I believe I have my most important presentation yet..."
The crowd grew silent and hung on every word. And I heard my voice around the room through the speakers.
" Today I have with me a box...and inside is spaghetti I had for breakfast. "
The crowd laughed thinking it was a joke
" shut up "
The crowd grew silent once more
"Behind me is a chalkboard and I will now present my new findings to all of you...I have found out how to make portals to other worlds. "
A man in the far back of the audience yelled bullshit in a heavy Indian accent but he was so far it was a faint sound for me. I smiled at that thinking I had finally found something that would make me lose my title and I could go ahead and live a life without people making me feel like an evil man for not helping others.
I opened the box got a handful of the noodles and threw them at the chalkboard. I then grabbed a paper towel on standby to clean myself.
The noodles hit the board and slowly moved and rested on a spot on the board. I made eye contact with my brother backstage and he had a look on his face showing he believed in me.
I spun the board dropping the noodles to the ground I then grabbed the chalk and drew around the sauce and noodles that stuck to the board then drew my attention to the others that had fallen on the floor and drew an outline of that.
After it finished I threw the chalk in the crowd violently hitting an old lady in the face.
" Quickly I want a show of hands who thinks I'm a crazy guy "
Everyone raised their hands and I laughed to myself
I then went behind the board and laid it horizontally. I grabbed a small knife in my pocket and poked my finger with it. The crimson blood fell and hit the chalk and then as more and more blood hit the chalk it started glowing.
" you have got to be joking. "
I said out loud as it started to spark an orange glow and it slowly grew color to the rest of the chalk in orange sparks.
Once the symbol was fully sparking with orange the sauce began to swell and move around in a counterclockwise manner. I stepped away from it in shock as small parts of the blood in my finger began to float to the parts where it fell on the floor I drew my outlines on and started sparking those as well.
It started to smoke and hiss as if lightning could whisper and the orange began to take shape and the sauce made a doorway. The parts that were not on the board began to grow ice around them and started to make designs on the floor circling me and the board. Suddenly it grew in size and a large booming voice was heard through the portal as I felt panic of people start to set in.
A huge claw came out and scrapped the sides of my table trying to crawl out from the world it had been trapped in. Cold winds hit me as they cut my skin and threw around my clothes. As I saw the table was now melting from its touch.
A slimy green claw with mucus like a face-hugger egg from the movie Alien carved through the floor and pulled the rest of its body out slowly. A beast stood at 12 feet tall adjusting to our world as goop grew and shaped its body as people screamed, ran, and stood frozen in fear.
As it looked around it locked its spider-like eyes and swerled around coming out from the portal and twisting and turning around the body as it made its way to its head finding a place to rest. It then locked its eyes with me and its jaw twisted slowly from an ant-like maw to mine and slowly shrunk and it soon took the shape of me and knelt on the floor and spoke to me.
" master. "
I stood in shock as everyone seemed to calm down and watched to see what I would do.
"...umm "My family has always been of great minds. I hated it. Growing up and having to study day and night to try and live up to them was extremely exhausting when I couldn't care how things worked as long as I was happy. I gave up but somehow everything kept turning out to be true.
Over my lifetime I have become the Gorden Ramsey of the science world. Known for my temper and also for huge things like curing world hunger using play-doe and cancer with baby powder I got in a back street ally while drunk.
To get my family off my back I started making random ideas so they could see me as a failure and leave me alone but...they keep working. And soon people started to praise me. Fame has left me with nothing but more and more attention. So today I plan to make sure that everyone can just think I'm insane and leave me alone and not some king.
I chuckled like a kid who was opening a Christmas present as I heard the crowd of people chatting and talking loudly as I hid behind my stage in a grey tight suit that my sister had picked out. I sighed and was ready to walk out and make a fool out of myself but my brother stopped me.
" Jack... I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Dad would have loved to see you right now. "
I thought it was ironic because last night while chilling on the couch watching TV and eating chips I made this theory up. He dusted off my shoulders held them tight and looked me in the eyes taking in the moment.
" go give them hell man. "
He had a goofy smile just like Dad but spoke with confidence.
" you got it, man. "
I heard my name being called onto the stage and the uproar startled me for a second but I collected myself and headed out after giving him a nod just to entertain him.
The lights were blinding as I grabbed the mic and looked at the table in front of me with a small box with the ingredients I needed and a chalkboard behind me.
After I stood still for a minute the crowd died down. I had not told anyone what I was presenting so the whole world was watching without a clue of what I was doing this time.
"Hello everyone. Today I believe I have my most important presentation yet..."
The crowd grew silent and hung on every word. And I heard my voice around the room through the speakers.
" Today I have with me a box...and inside is spaghetti I had breakfast. "
The crowd laughed thinking it was a joke
" shut up "
The crowd grew silent once more
"Behind me is a chalkboard and I will now present my new findings to all of you...I have found out how to make portals to other worlds. "
A man in the far back of the audience yelled bullshit in a heavy Indian accent but he was so far it was a faint sound for me. I smiled at that thinking I had finally found something that would make me lose my title and I could go ahead and live a life without people making me feel like an evil man for not helping others.
I opened the box got a handful of the noodles and threw them at the chalkboard. I then grabbed a paper towel on standby to clean myself.
The noodles hit the board and slowly moved and rested on a spot on the board. I made eye contact with my brother backstage and he had a look on his face showing he believed in me.
I spun the board dropping the noodles to the ground I then grabbed the chalk and drew around the sauce and noodles that stuck to the board then drew my attention to the others that had fallen on the floor and drew an outline of that.
After it finished I threw the chalk in the crowd violently hitting an old lady in the face.
" Quickly I want a show of hands who thinks I'm a crazy guy "
Everyone raised their hands and I laughed to myself
I then went behind the board and laid it horizontally. I grabbed a small knife in my pocket and poked my finger with it. The crimson blood fell and hit the chalk and then as more and more blood hit the chalk it started glowing.
" you have got to be joking. "
I said out loud as it started to spark an orange glow and it slowly grew color to the rest of the chalk in orange sparks.
Once the symbol was fully sparking with orange the sauce began to swell and move around in a counterclockwise manner. I stepped away from it in shock as small parts of the blood in my finger began to float to the parts where it fell on the floor I drew my outlines on and started sparking those as well.
It started to smoke and hiss as if lightning could whisper and the orange began to take shape and the sauce made a doorway. The parts that were not on the board began to grow ice around them and started to make designs on the floor circling me and the board. Suddenly it grew in size and a large booming voice was heard through the portal as I felt panic of people start to set in.
A huge claw came out and scrapped the sides of my table trying to crawl out from the world it had been trapped in. Cold winds hit me as they cut my skin and threw around my clothes. As I saw the table was now melting from its touch.
A slimy green claw with mucus like a face-hugger egg from the movie Alien carved through the floor and pulled the rest of its body out slowly. A beast stood at 12 feet tall adjusting to our world as goop grew and shaped its body as people screamed, ran, and stood frozen in fear.
As it looked around it locked its spider-like eyes and swerled around coming out from the portal and twisting and turning around the body as it made its way to its head finding a place to rest. It then locked its eyes with me and its jaw twisted slowly from an ant-like maw to mine and slowly shrunk and it soon took the shape of me and knelt on the floor and spoke to me.
" master. "
I stood in shock as everyone seemed to calm down and watched to see what I would do.

"...umm "

Part two of the noodle demon.
Now that this creature knelt before me I realized that the room I was in was so terrible quietly you could hear everyone's ass get tight in anticipation of what would happen next.
" ...what...are you. "
I spoke carefully to the being that had taken the shape of myself. It still took my breath away and my throat was dry.
The beast was a deep green. The color mixed with shades of grey streaming from it. The longer I looked at it I could see it getting closer to what I looked like shaping itself.
From small flowing green tendrils to an arm they grew as they twisted and made bone then muscle and finally skin.
It locked eyes with me and it smiled deeply at me. As it formed the face finally.
" Your vassle. "
My eyes had not moved to the crowd at all but even though the lights hit the stage so hard it was enveloped in smoke.
The creature's eyes glowed as it answered brightly, not figuratively. This thing's eyes were glowing.
"To serve you, We are bound by blood magic. I am a reflection of your desires, Master, " it said, its voice now a whisper in my mind.
It began to stand up as my grey suit began to form on it and by the time it stood fully up it had copied what I looked like.
" let me explain everything. "
My body frozen in fear woke up with adrenaline as I blinked and a flash of green smoke covered my vision as he teleported right to me face to face.
Its body turned to smoke and went into the slits of my eyes. I felt visions follow me in my peripheral vision but surprisingly no pain followed power filled me and it felt like one hell of a drug.
My body and mind altered.
I was now in a very dark place with no walls or light except my reflection on the floor which waved like water.
I took a step back looking around and back to the reflection of me on the ground.
Soon the water rippled and my reflection fell through the floor like gravity was inverted. he flew upright and water fell off of him as he looked at me as he now stood straight ahead of me. He was just reflecting in the water but now eyed me down.
Collecting my nerves.
I begin to speak.
" what do you want..."
He was still in my form and stood perfectly straight. Now with water dripping from his...my hair.
Slight stubble with hair that hung down and my hazel eyes were not present within him but I was greeted with a swelling acidic green that doubled the size of my pupil.
" to serve you. "
He made no other movement than putting his hands behind his back like a soldier at ease.
I could not tell if it was lying or not.
" ...is that it? "
" I am the embodiment of your fear desires and brilliance. You have shaped me. Your desire for solitude birthed me. I will aid you in shaping the world how you see fit. Your reality becomes mine. "
There was a slight echo in the room as he spoke.
" wait...where are we "
I questioned haphazardly
" your mind. "
An awkward silence was in the air until I spoke
" so...am I just standing on the stage not making a sound? "
He gave me a concerned look.
" no...time has frozen outside for you. You may sleep here without having to in the real world so to others you look as if you never rest and you may think and plan what to do in battle here. For them, it will be about two seconds...Do...do you not have any knowledge of what I am? "
Suddenly I felt bad like I had encountered someone famous and I had no idea who they were. A slap in the face like a popular kid meeting someone who had never heard of them. Ego shattered.
" ok sorry no. I...don't go around reading about...monsters?"
I felt like was I saying the n-word of the demon realm not knowing if that word was offensive.
He folded his arms a little upset.
"Are you not a warrior? "
" well...no I...just watch TV and cook here and there- "
The demon cut me off
" weak. "
" excuse me? "
" look. I am an immortal being and after a while you get bored. So I'm sorry if I may be a little upset after being bonded with some nobody. "
I got quiet and I was a little annoyed that I was being roasted by some demon that I just met.
Its form wavers and eyes begin to open on its skin. Cheeks forhead etc.
"After being a god for so long it's fun to play with limitations. Makes things extremely exciting. "
" what do you mean by that? "
" look. You can only be so entertained by the same things. Life gets boring and now...you are going to help me with this. I get to have pure entertainment while you get every wish you could ever want. A mutual bond no? "
He then closed his eyes annoyed and the other eyes meshed back to his skin.
" though... the TV is not that interesting...life is what gets the blood pumping"
I felt the need to quickly change the topic
"Are there others like you? "
The room began to take shape very slowly as the water floor turned to wood and walls went around us.
" of course. You may meet them one day "
Confused and curious I pressed.
"Meet them? "
" yes. Summoning one of us is considered a threat to them. "
He spoke while opening and closing his newly found hand except backward.
" hm...no that don't look right "
I quickly responded
" Wait! How is doing that a threat! "
"Well, one doesn't just accidentally Summon one of us to suddenly get powers beyond human control. "
I thought back to how I summoned him by accident with some food I made.
" well...funny story but I summoned you using my breakfast..."
I had never regretted speaking so much as in that moment.
" What... "
Acid dripped from his words. Literally. His pupils split in half and his bottom jaw ripped open like an ant and curved giving sharpness to the bone.
"Please don't kill me. "
The room began to look like a cozy cabin with a fireplace and he slowly went back to normal.
" I would if I could. I've never felt so disrespected. We are bonded by your blood. If you die...I die. "
Suddenly I felt at ease by this new information.
Then a thought came to my mind
" ...God's can die? "
" you did hear me, right? "
The SAS from this guy was unneeded and I was starting to miss him being on his knees as weird as that sounds.
" so...all that power gone.... in an instant... "
" well...no actually God's powers don't just disappear they transfer to whoever killed them...wait...hold up."
He suddenly had an epiphany.
A smile grew on his face and he grabbed my shoulders
" you! You are going to help me kill the other gods! "
He sounded proud but I let him down.
" ha! No. "
" oh come on! Don't be like that. "
He did a pout.
"Look, man. I'm not killing gods for you. Just because you are bored. "
" hey...they might send people to kill you because you bonded with me. "
"What did I ever do to them? "
"They have a system to this stuff. They like to build and watch things play out. You're a problem. That can mess it up. So...they kill ya...to be honest, I don't know any other way to explain it, man. You know people normally just use my power to kill people and become a king and know this already. "
"This is outrageous. "
" bro. Look if you do this I will be able to get their powers and you will be able to do so much more than what I offer "
I tilted my head
" what can you do? Know what never mind. I will just talk to them and figure things out. "
He groaned and his form melted down sagging and it shot back up reforming
"Is there not anything that you want? Anything in the world? Gods don't put themselves in physical forms. They give people power and can make beings to hunt you. And if they care enough to come down themself. Ha, good luck."
I stopped and thought about it trying to weigh the options of pissing off higher beings.
Suddenly. I found something.
"Can you bring back the dead..."
He stopped confused.
" well...no "
" then I don't want anything "
" wait! "
He threw his arms out pleading
"I don't...but another God does..."
He crosses his arms smiling. He had left the question hanging letting me reconsider his offer.
I stopped and thought for a while before looking back up to him.
I let out a sigh and looked him in the eyes
" ok...you are going to help me get my father back. "
The demon smirked.

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Humans are Weird – Bump

Original Post: http://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-bump
“Thank you for the reassurance,” Cuddlesround said in a hollow tone.
The Undulate reached out an appendage absently and patted the inspector’s elbow. The rest of his appendages were writhing in on themselves in a display of guilt and distress that one didn’t need to be an expert in xeno-kenesethetics to interpret. It turned out that ‘writhing’ was a pretty universal experience.
“Really,” Medical Inspector Gregory murmured gently, reaching out to stroke the Undulate, “it would have been difficult for a human doctor to diagnose the trouble when the patient was actively hiding it.”
“But that is the flow!” Cuddlesround burst out, remembering to put sounds of stress in his voices this time. “My species are hardly strangers to the idea of working through injuries! Even to the point of self harm. That is why the inspection of our fellows is so important to us!”
Cuddlesround cut off and just writhes in the bottom of the small depression full of room temperature water that formed his desk space and Gregory fought the urge to look away. Every psyche briefing he had stated that Undulates did not do, “giving them privacy”. Finally the chief researcher for the expedition gathered enough self control to continue speaking.
“I know I can’t be held responsible for failing to diagnose an alien injury,” Cuddlesround admitted, adding resignation to his voice. “Despite being a biologist I know very little about mammalian biology, save where you make such excellent hosts for symbiotes, so much free space in you, why I bet you could host multiple eukaryotic species at once! There is, in particular a worm-ah but I see I am distressing you. We must stay in the main stream of the conversation, of course.”
Gregory didn’t think his face had given away the cringing horror at the turn the conversation had taken. It must have been his pheromones he mused as Cuddlesround went on.
“My current is this,” Cuddlesround was saying. “Internal injuries are so odd, difficult to diagnose when your tissues are properly orders, impossible to diagnose when they are separated into discrete ‘organs’. I know I could never have hopped to tell that Human Friend Michael had sustained damage to…”
Cuddlesround drifted off and lifted up his longest appendage to Medical Inspector Gregory. Gregory caught his drift and glanced down at his notes.
“The connective tissue, called ligaments, anchoring certain muscle groups to his pelvis,” Medical Inspector Gregory supplied.
“To his ligaments,” Cuddlesround said, “from simply slipping in the mud. In fact, though I witnessed the fall that caused the damage, I did not recognize that such a fall, one he even maintained control over could damage his tissues.”
Cuddlesround contracted tightly and then visibly forced himself to flex out and relax in a decent approximation of a sigh for a species with no lungs.
“No,” Cuddlesround said in a glum tone, “I could not have diagnosed him, but he was in pain for months before the damage accumulated to the point he could no longer walk without visible pain.”
Cuddlesround stopped talking here and Medical Inspector Gregory realized after a long pause that the Undulate had finished his thought and was waiting for a reply.
“Then what do you feel so guilty about?” Medical Inspector Gregory asked. “Ranger Michael slipped on the mud, sprained his butt, and didn’t tell anyone. That is hardly your responsibility.”
“Oh but it is!” Cuddlesround insisted. “I failed to set the flow of our group down the proper currents! If I had Human Friend Michael would have let us know about his injury soon enough to treat it properly.”
Medical Inspector Gregory couldn’t help letting out a skeptical noise at that and apparently Cuddlesround had enough experience with humans to translate it.
“What do you find issue with in my statement Medical Inspector Gregory?” Cuddlesround asked.
“I sincerely doubt that you could have done anything that would make it more likely for a human to have reported an injury,” Gregory said. “From the sound of this,” he held up the report. “The pain was only sporadic at first. I doubt that Ranger Michael was deliberately hiding anything from you. More likely he just genuinely didn’t consider it an issue at first, and there is only so much you can do before you start violating human privacy boundaries.”
Cuddlesround gave a skeptical sound of his own and Gregory smiled ruefully down at the Undulate.
“Look,” Gregory said. “From our perspective this is a matter of Ranger Michael’s training. However if you would like I can offer you and the other undulates on base information on how to coax injury information out of humans in casual conversation without passing those boundaries.”
“Yes!” Cuddlesround exclaimed, lifting his leading end out of the water entirely. “Teach us that.”
“Well,” Gregory said with a nod, “I have a whole class on it but the main idea is tit-for-tat.”
“You mean I would have to offer up an injury of my own?” Cuddlesround asked.
“You get the basic idea,” Gregory said hastily, the image of the earnest Undulate deliberately spraining something in the interest of cross-species communication popping into his head, “but it is a story of an injury you need to offer up, and the more of you telling stories the more likely the human is to offer up a story of their own.”
“That’s a natural flow,” the Undulate observed.
“Yeah,” Gregory said with a laugh, “even before I specialized in the medical field it seemed like every conversation I had with my friends ended up turning to what traumatic injuries we had gotten. You just have to remember to direct the conversation to current injuries without making it obvious.”
https://i.redd.it/dvbbwl1q3o1d1.gif

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

Amazon (Kindle, Paperback, Audiobook)

Barnes & Nobel (Nook, Paperback, Audiobook)

Powell's Books (Paperback)

Kobo by Rakuten (ebook and Audiobook)

Google Play Books (ebook and Audiobook)

Check out my books at any of these sites and leave a review! "Flying Sparks" - a novel set in the "Dying Embers" universe is now avaliable on all sites!
Please go leave a review on Amazon! It really helps and keeps me writing becase tea and taxes don't pay themselves sadly!

Humans are Weird – Bump

Original Post: http://www.authorbettyadams.com/bettys-blog/humans-are-weird-bump
“Thank you for the reassurance,” Cuddlesround said in a hollow tone.
The Undulate reached out an appendage absently and patted the inspector’s elbow. The rest of his appendages were writhing in on themselves in a display of guilt and distress that one didn’t need to be an expert in xeno-kenesethetics to interpret. It turned out that ‘writhing’ was a pretty universal experience.
“Really,” Medical Inspector Gregory murmured gently, reaching out to stroke the Undulate, “it would have been difficult for a human doctor to diagnose the trouble when the patient was actively hiding it.”
“But that is the flow!” Cuddlesround burst out, remembering to put sounds of stress in his voices this time. “My species are hardly strangers to the idea of working through injuries! Even to the point of self harm. That is why the inspection of our fellows is so important to us!”
Cuddlesround cut off and just writhes in the bottom of the small depression full of room temperature water that formed his desk space and Gregory fought the urge to look away. Every psyche briefing he had stated that Undulates did not do, “giving them privacy”. Finally the chief researcher for the expedition gathered enough self control to continue speaking.
“I know I can’t be held responsible for failing to diagnose an alien injury,” Cuddlesround admitted, adding resignation to his voice. “Despite being a biologist I know very little about mammalian biology, save where you make such excellent hosts for symbiotes, so much free space in you, why I bet you could host multiple eukaryotic species at once! There is, in particular a worm-ah but I see I am distressing you. We must stay in the main stream of the conversation, of course.”
Gregory didn’t think his face had given away the cringing horror at the turn the conversation had taken. It must have been his pheromones he mused as Cuddlesround went on.
“My current is this,” Cuddlesround was saying. “Internal injuries are so odd, difficult to diagnose when your tissues are properly orders, impossible to diagnose when they are separated into discrete ‘organs’. I know I could never have hopped to tell that Human Friend Michael had sustained damage to…”
Cuddlesround drifted off and lifted up his longest appendage to Medical Inspector Gregory. Gregory caught his drift and glanced down at his notes.
“The connective tissue, called ligaments, anchoring certain muscle groups to his pelvis,” Medical Inspector Gregory supplied.
“To his ligaments,” Cuddlesround said, “from simply slipping in the mud. In fact, though I witnessed the fall that caused the damage, I did not recognize that such a fall, one he even maintained control over could damage his tissues.”
Cuddlesround contracted tightly and then visibly forced himself to flex out and relax in a decent approximation of a sigh for a species with no lungs.
“No,” Cuddlesround said in a glum tone, “I could not have diagnosed him, but he was in pain for months before the damage accumulated to the point he could no longer walk without visible pain.”
Cuddlesround stopped talking here and Medical Inspector Gregory realized after a long pause that the Undulate had finished his thought and was waiting for a reply.
“Then what do you feel so guilty about?” Medical Inspector Gregory asked. “Ranger Michael slipped on the mud, sprained his butt, and didn’t tell anyone. That is hardly your responsibility.”
“Oh but it is!” Cuddlesround insisted. “I failed to set the flow of our group down the proper currents! If I had Human Friend Michael would have let us know about his injury soon enough to treat it properly.”
Medical Inspector Gregory couldn’t help letting out a skeptical noise at that and apparently Cuddlesround had enough experience with humans to translate it.
“What do you find issue with in my statement Medical Inspector Gregory?” Cuddlesround asked.
“I sincerely doubt that you could have done anything that would make it more likely for a human to have reported an injury,” Gregory said. “From the sound of this,” he held up the report. “The pain was only sporadic at first. I doubt that Ranger Michael was deliberately hiding anything from you. More likely he just genuinely didn’t consider it an issue at first, and there is only so much you can do before you start violating human privacy boundaries.”
Cuddlesround gave a skeptical sound of his own and Gregory smiled ruefully down at the Undulate.
“Look,” Gregory said. “From our perspective this is a matter of Ranger Michael’s training. However if you would like I can offer you and the other undulates on base information on how to coax injury information out of humans in casual conversation without passing those boundaries.”
“Yes!” Cuddlesround exclaimed, lifting his leading end out of the water entirely. “Teach us that.”
“Well,” Gregory said with a nod, “I have a whole class on it but the main idea is tit-for-tat.”
“You mean I would have to offer up an injury of my own?” Cuddlesround asked.
“You get the basic idea,” Gregory said hastily, the image of the earnest Undulate deliberately spraining something in the interest of cross-species communication popping into his head, “but it is a story of an injury you need to offer up, and the more of you telling stories the more likely the human is to offer up a story of their own.”
“That’s a natural flow,” the Undulate observed.
“Yeah,” Gregory said with a laugh, “even before I specialized in the medical field it seemed like every conversation I had with my friends ended up turning to what traumatic injuries we had gotten. You just have to remember to direct the conversation to current injuries without making it obvious.”

Science Fiction Books By Betty Adams

Amazon (Kindle, Paperback, Audiobook)

Barnes & Nobel (Nook, Paperback, Audiobook)

Powell's Books (Paperback)

Kobo by Rakuten (ebook and Audiobook)

Google Play Books (ebook and Audiobook)

Check out my books at any of these sites and leave a review! "Flying Sparks" - a novel set in the "Dying Embers" universe is now avaliable on all sites!
Please go leave a review on Amazon! It really helps and keeps me writing becase tea and taxes don't pay themselves sadly!