[Run Zero chapter: https://redd.it/1csb71x not every run will have a chapter; it won't be long before there are multiple runs per chapter.]
Portal load: Agility 1, Bait 3, Trumps 1, Pheromones 1, Packrat 1, Motivation 1, Power 2, Toughness 2, Looting 5, Discipline Challenge, 54 of 54 He allocated, 7.8% AP at start.
[This is probably the lowest helium load I've ever done, and sorta keeping my own advice on a recent Reddit post, Bait and Looting are up. Especially Looting, but it's not like I don't always do something like this.]
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Rolls over- Ah, what's that? His shoulder pressed into something hard and metallic, He reaches over and his hand naturally seems to find a folding handle. He pulls it out from under himself and gets it up on his chest, sort of in a semi-comfortable position to hold it up and look at the screen while lying on his back. Some fiddling around the edges gets the power button pressed and the screen lights up with:
"Manual portal activation 1 successful: Void enabled. / 54 He loaded / Discipline challenge active / Total portal activation 955"
"Kakka," its one of his trimps.
'My' trimps? The human sets aside the portal pad and gets up.
Are you the guy? They all seem to be looking at him, as though they have a frickin' huge problem to solve and they need his help to solve it.
32s: First trap.
Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to us. The trimps look hopefully up at him through the trap's grating, We're so friggin' screwed.
I didn't think four of you could fit in there! He opens it and they all start following him around like imprinted hatchling birds. It seems his tactic of making a catch-alive trap confirmed to them that he was 'the guy' to help solve whatever problem...
26m42s: Z2c15, 58 pop, 7.7s RC with Z1/2; 29m44s: Fresh turkimp c25.
"Hey, buddy," he says to his first scientist, "can you speak yet?"
"Shijou?" it says, then it starts writing, "Hi Tightniks."
"Who do you mean 'Tightniks'?" he asks, "I mean, it's not like I remember my own name, but what makes you think it's Tightniks?"
"Tai," it points right at him with one paw.
"Just pointing at me isn't going to answer that," he chuckles.
The trimp's hands are quite prehensile, but it's hard to tell without it holding something, they don't seem able to make their fingers visually distinguishable. [Puchim@s all the puchidoru, although some have big round hands and some have small pointy hands; Takanya is the latter. Probably Final Fantasy Red XIII as well, but I'm not familiar enough with him to be satisfied.] This one starts climbing up his leg.
"Wait, wait," he stops it. It's a challenge to stoop in this gravity, but not as much of one as carrying a trimp. He gets down on his knees and back on his haunches and-
"Tai," it points again to a spot on his chest just left of his heart, then climbs on his lap and grabs his uniform at that spot, "Tai!"
He looks down and sees "Tightniks" embroidered into the fabric above his pocket. "Ah," he sighs, "Well, if that's my name, that's my name."
"Shijou," it gives him a friendly whack on the shoulder.
2h38m55s: Mskel in Z11c3.
"Hey guys?" Tightniks points at his bone box, waving his finger, "Does anyone remember where these came from?"
"Nope," the yellow one says.
"Yeah, there are 12 more in here than we got kills to account for," Tightniks says.
"I've been getting a sense of deja vu about just about everything," the red one points at the metal box on the strap over his shoulder, "That's a big exception. Any clues there?"
"It says it's for something called a DT Experimental Industries Time Portal," the human shrugs, "I have no idea what it's talking about, honest."
3h25m46s: Block PB, 0.3% AP sub-4h, 540 pop, 8.3s RC, no turkimp
That thing is beeping? He takes a look at his TPCS pad and he's got a message saying that he finished the Block in under 4 hours and there's a little attack bonus- Under 4 hours? It's been over 4 days!! Checking the time on the device reveals that the portal times in terms of a "map frame" out there in space, and the passage of time has been vastly dilated on this planet.
4h15m56s: Zone 15, 954 pop, 11.9s RC with Z14/60, no turkimp.
"Tightniks," the yellow one comes back from the second full bin to the filling third bin, watching the human fold up another of his very first inventions, the very first thing he built after jumping through the mysterious green phenomenon exiting the crashed ship, "Why in blazes are you building so many traps?"
The human had finished another and tossed it into the bin, then picked up the now ever-present portal control pad, gets it out of auto-sleep and called up the "Achievement Points" page. "I have this weird hunch," he says.
"Deja vu? That familiar feeling we always have?" the yellow one inquires politely, slightly tilting its head.
"May I?" Tightniks turns up his hand and waves it up and down in a lifting gesticulation, then points at the trap pile.
"Sure," the yellow one understands, "if you'll put me back down after."
The human sets the pad down, stoops at the knees and gets his arms under the yellow trimp scientist's front limbs and lifts it up onto that stack of traps with a grunt; it is an impressive demonstration of his improving strength against the planet's high gravity. Then he picks up the pad again and points at one of the blank purple squares near the bottom.
"You don't know what that is," the yellow one says, "Are we going after that first one that is readable?"
"Yes," the human nods, "it's for finishing something called a Dimension of Anger, whatever that is, before getting something called Bounty."
"Whatever that is," the trimp chuckles.
"No, I know what it is," the human says, "I remember it being access to a resource-rich area on the other side of a green Wall we'll find with our next map route. It doubles our resource production."
"That would be handy," the yellow one says.
"Hmm," he nods, "But all the traps are for this one," pointing at the third square in the top row of the array the pad labels "Feats", the second of three that are purple.
"Oh," a stylus materializes in the yellow one's paw, "Well, all it says is 2.5%. It doesn't say how to get it. Something to do with traps?"
"Something to do with traps," the human chuckles, "that's only convenient to do now."
4h29m46s...
Other trimps can understand the grey one better than the human, "Shijou shijou shijou?" is what a human ear would hear, but it's really asking the yellow one, "You mean he knew it was going to be here?"
"Yeah," the yellow one nods.
"Well, it's gotta be that pad none of us finds familiar," the grey one insists.
"I don't think so," the yellow one argues, "He showed the reason for all these traps to me on the pad, and the information is not yet available there."
"Well, it can't be just a coincidence," the grey one grumbles.
6h23m16s: Our first void map dropped.
"What is that?" The red one asks the yellow one. It grabs a stick and lifts the strange square object up by an edge from as far away as he can.
"I have no idea," The yellow one says.
"It seems to have some sort of cooling effect," the red one says, looking underneath it, having tilted it up with the stick, "Like it's not just cold, but actually cooling down, as though it were the opposite of on fire."
"Shijou," the grey one says, holding a note.
"It's a void map. Grab it with a blanket and put it on the cart please. - Tightniks"
"Shijou shijou," the grey one clarifies, "The new pad said 'void enabled'. Guessing it's that."
10h06m21s: Zone 21, 1975 pop, 19.6s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from-" he gasps, "Waitamint!" He starts searching for the portal pad.
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
The human has his portal pad up and reads aloud, "You have the Discipline challenge active. Tweak the portal to- yada yada yada. Tiss tiss t- completing The Dimension Of Anger will cause Trimp damage to return to normal." He snaps his fingers, "That's gotta be it."
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes.
12h30m06s: Portal, 45 He, 3.600 He/hr, 2098 pop, 18.3s RC, 1% AP for Portal-before-Bounty.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' dagger points goes into it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All fifty of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Dagger V, Mark 2 with both hands- ...I must have gotten used to destroying it at some point. He lets go of his weapon with his right hand first and dangles his left arm while holdi-
Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, the pilot turns on the radar for the final approach and takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and primary flight display...
He crouches, sets the dagger down gently, then starts clearing the debris from the box's grab iron. He tries to lift it- Damn, this is heavy!
Surprised at this turn of events, his two oldest scientists, Grey and Yellow, rush to either side of him and help out. They get it flipped over and read the other side of the device, Tightniks chuckles a bit at its predictability:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE UP" There's a square cutout in the middle of one side of it, with a sliding cover at the bottom of it.
"Thanks," he pats his scientists, "but back off, please." He gets the cover unlatched, and slides it open to see, first a big rainbow-colored wide data cable and card edge connector, then several fluid ports. "There's something missing," he says aloud as he gets the cover completely off and onto the grass, "this connects to some-" he's got the wide flat cable up in his hand, realizing what it plugs into. He looks at his scientists, lips trembling, "G-g-g-get the pad."
The grey one already has the survival data pad and offers it to him.
"No, the other pad," Tightniks clarifies, "The big one. The big one," he picks up wide flat rainbow cable and its edge socket in one hand, "It goes here," he points at it with the other. "It must have come with me end of the last cycle."
Both the yellow one and the red one bring it, one on each side.
"Thank you," the human takes it, gets its hinge lugs on the trunnions at the top of each corner of the cavity, then gets the cable connector on the card edge in the pad's base recess, "See, that's where it came from." It comes on:
"12h30m05s: You have completed the Discipline challenge, unlocking a new memory-enable coolant loop and restoring your trimps to normal combat discipline."
"Do you have any idea what that's about?" the yellow one points at the edge of the left side.
"That's-" Tightniks examines it, then suddenly realizes, "It's gotta be for the void map."
He's got a port cover open, and the bottom of it says, "NULLIFIUM/VOID HEIRLOOM INTERFACE"
"Shijou?" the grey one brings the blanket-wrapped void map.
The human clears an edge of the map; doesn't seem to matter which one, and then gets it into the slot. It disappears and the blanket settles down while the environment goes deep blue and suddenly goes super cold. "Hoe Lee!" he shivers, wrapping the blanket around himself, "I hope this isn't too much of a Napolean-Hitler Maneuver!" He glances around, but all the trimps don't seem to discomforted by the sudden cold.
12h35m24s: Void 1, 55 He, 4.369 He/hr, 2098 pop, 18.3s RC, first void AP 1% and 0.3% AP for 100 He simultaneously, we got a rare shield, but it's lame with attack, storage, and empty.
As the environment around them return to normal, the trimps cheer over the deflated corpse of the- ...whatever, who give a hoot? Tightniks finds a flurry of messages on the portal screen, two regard APs, one is about having recovered 10 He units, and the big one was about a "shield". Through the touchscreen, he enables it, and gets the status effects that it's talking about.
"Where to now, boss?" the yellow one asks, Tightniks can feel the draft off the cold trimps. They seem to be extraordinarily robust ectotherms, unlike him.
"Let's go back to that friggin' Wall, where it's warmer," he shivers, "We got that AP and could use the resources." As he leads them to the L15 route, he thinks, Maybe I did that void too early. It takes on the level of our most recently entered Zone, and the resources probably go up accordingly. [I did for character reasons after seriously considering running it at Z25 or 30.]
12h49m37s: Nursery unlocked.
"Four hundred thousand gems!" the human squeaks, "Are you kidding me?"
Grey and Yellow glance at each other, the former says "Shijou?" and starts doodling a real answer.
"I'm not sure if you've noticed, but young trimps have special diets for healthy bones," the yellow one explains.
"You eat gems?" the human gasps.
"Shijou," Grey says with a shit eating grin just above a little sign that says, "Babies eat aluminate, and gems are the best!"
"Do they like the taste?" Tighniks tosses a gem from the helium compressor in the direction of the nearest house.
"Uh-Uuuuh!" after it bounces off a paving stone, a yellow juvenile with red head fur jumps into the air to catch it in its mouth. [Puchim@s Yayo. Liek seriously, she jumps after pennies.]
13h32m59s: Zone 25, 84 He, 6.199 He/hr, 2217 pop, 52.6s RC with Z24/568, no turkimp.
It has an unusually light colored body, dark head fur that lies flat, and for trimp tails, wide and not all that prehensile, reminds Tightniks of a- ...he remembers what the animal looks like, but not that his home planet is called Earth nor that the animal is called a tanuki raccoon. Just the tail, the rest of the trimp looks like a trimp for the most part. Oh yeah, the mining foreman. [Puchim@s Yukipo] He turns to Red and asks, "What's wrong with it?"
"It's in a bad mood," the red one answers.
"I can tell," Tightniks glares angrily at the red one for a moment, cools off, takes a breath, and asks kindly, "Why is it in a bad mood?"
"We've never been out this far," the yellow one offers, "...well, with the portal captured at least. Now, it was in a good mood before it got near the cart after we started this zone. Something new on the cart?"
Tightniks approaches the mopey mining foreman and asks it, "What's the matter, little fella?"
It sighs, then starts struggling to climb [see 1x6] onto the compressor cart. Tightniks helps it up with a lift, then it goes to the portal pad and turns it on, opens up the coolant page, the challenges tab there, and sort of sighs and looks questioningly at him.
"Metal challenge:" the pad reads, "Tweak the portal to bring you to an alternate reality, where the concept of Miners does not exist..."
"Oh," Tightniks realizes, then huffs, "That explains the bad mood." He sits down with the mining foreman trimp and brushes its tail, "Don't worry, my friend. You'll be back after one cycle, and I'm sure I'll miss you and your miners. These guys," he nods at the scientists, "we're scared they wouldn't be back when I first used it on purpose, but they came back. If there's a 'Science challenge' later on, I'll have you and not them-"
The scientists flinch.
"It'll be okay," he assures the mining foreman he hasn't yet realized has fallen comfortably asleep in his lap, "It'll be okay, buddy."
16h11m02s: Gymnastic Z25 taken and gyms rapidly increasing now.
The 710 fighting trimps are majestic with their new gymnastic skill and nearly impossible to hit. Only occasionally did the gorillimp do damage. They took it down easily.
Then the dragimp they faced next blew them away with a fireball that made Tightniks flinch. It took him a second to get the dragimp back in his bee nickels. The next group was all ready to relieve their fallen comrades before they went down, even without the welcoming traps for the wild volunteers (of which Tightniks has just started into the 41st bin of ten thousand.) The dragimp can do nothing to them; anything that hits gets deflected by their V-8 shields; they never got sufficiently blindsided.
[Funny: V-8 is a veggie drink similar to clamato juice I can't find anymore, but it's really five-eight, which just happens to be the squadron number of the cast in Space: Above and Beyond. Herp-a-derp!]
19h11m12s: Spammed some random biome maps...
"Tai?" the grey one looks up at the human holding a little sign, "Last couple zones, you've been mapping a lot of random biome routes we never used. Is there any point to that?"
"Stats," the human says, fitting another one together, "Oh, and this," he tosses the trimp the completed forest route map."
As it registers in the portal system, the pad starts beeping and flashing its screen.
"What?" Tightniks sneers incredulously, "There's an AP for that?" He checks and sure enough, there's a 5% Achievement Point for making a 'perfect' map, by a full notch the biggest AP so far.
The yellow one was relaxing on the corner of the latest filled up trap bin, the 49th, notices, and leans back, "Yarey yarey..." shaking its head.
19h13m28s: Uberhouse taken.
"Shijou," the grey one stands at Tightniks feet holding a small book.
Tightniks takes a brief break from his trapmaking and stoops for his oldest scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one bobs the small book in its hands to offer it to Tightniks.
"Flush toilets and septic systems?" Tightniks reads, "You do this yourself?"
"Oh, don't you wish," the red one snickers, "No, it was in that perfect route you mapped up."
20h39m26s: Zone 30, 161 He, 7.794 He/hr, 4656 pop, 20N, 74.5s RC with Z29/1735, no turkimp, 2.5% AP for sub-60 He Z30 start...
"Oh?" Tightniks has an Ax V-3 over one shoulder and screws the helium hose connector to the portal system with one hand. He grunts, sounds kinda disappointed, sets the ax down and continues working on his massive pile of traps; he's almost finished the 55th of, he just learned, 100 huge bins.
The mining foreman had struggled up onto the cart to see, and just looks baffled. It usually looks a bit lost just as part of its demeanor, but this time it looks really quite confused, and makes rather bemused sounds too.
"Oh, what is this?" Red jumps up on the cart, sounding like it's gotta be silly.
The mining foreman climbs back down and spots a purple ore vein, makes a happy sound and pulls its shovel out of its back pocket to start digging into it.
[OC: This is not even close to an exaggeration vs. OG Puchim@s Yukipo who, in 1x2, just pulls out her shovel from nowhere and digs a hole through Project 765's indoor tile-and-concrete office floor to have a nap in the cold open of a 137 second long cartoon episode. Never run out of mushroom boxes! Also, 2nd season Golden Week gold medallion, she and Yayo dig into a volcanic island and hit an oil gusher ...you don't need to know much geology to realize...]
"Really?" Red groans, "Sheesh."
What's on the pad? "Hoarder: Have over 1 million traps at once, 2.5% damage."
20h48m06s: Gateways.
"Hmm," Tightniks pauses from his trap building and gazes over where they came from.
"Thinking of something?" the yellow one asks from the stack he's building under his feet as he puts the most recent trap on the pile.
"Yunno, we have a lot of territory back there that should be pretty pleasant to live in," Tightniks says, "You'd think we should be able to just map an enemy-free route that trimps can just sit down and live peacefully in. I'd love to be able to do that."
"Shijou," the grey one is at his feet with a massive shit-eating grin, not really "hiding" a big piece of documentation behind its back. Obviously it's not so dumb as to realize that it isn't concealed. It then pulls it out and offers it to the human, "Shijou."
"What's this-" the human gasps, "Are you kidding?"
"Shijou."
"Well?" the yellow one prompts, "Let's friggin' try it, shall we?"
21h34m53s...
For some odd reason, that quiet little mining foreman is on the trap pile, fiddling around. Seems to be trying to arm one, has the spring catch on-
"Hey, buddy!" the human notices, "What are you-"
SPROING and it goes flying through the air. Does a few flips and turns, and then sticks the landing, strikes a pose, and makes a happy sound. [op cit. 1x57]
"What the-" Tightniks says, scratching his head, I wonder how much more damage the fighters could avoid if they could do stuff like that.
"Shijou," the grey one is carefully copying out the trimpese from a tattered and dusty scroll.
"What is that?" Tightniks asks.
"Where mining buddy learned that flip," Yellow says from the cart with feet playfully dangling, "another gymnastic book we picked up a few NMEs back. Probably another chapter from the same book, actually. It seems to have been torn apart and scattered."
"Is that right, bud-" the human looks around, can't seem to find the mining foreman, "Buddy, where are you?" It can't move so fast as to get out of sight this quickly!
"Po-wee!" it cheers from the bottom of its latest hole, which is beside a pile of rich bluish-greenish copper ore, onto which another shovelful flies out of the hole onto it.
22h44m17s: Zone 32, 205 He, 9.016 He/hr, 9548 pop, 30N, 37.7s RC with Z31/2712, no tkp.
"You should probably go," Red whispers.
The exhausted human has just sat down for a nap after tossing yet another trap into the huge bin stenciled "61".
"Really, I mean it," the red trimp scientist gently sets a paw on the pilot's shoulder, "Listen to sense please. Charge all this helium and use the portal; it'll make us so much stronger."
"Only 392 thousand to go," Tightniks sighs, "All the ones I've made go to waste if I use it now. I know it's only a two-and-a-halfer, but if I go now, I'll never be in de-" his head slumps into the nodding-off of post-all-nighter fatigue, "moo."
Red and the mining foreman help the snoring human gently down onto his side. The former quietly asks the latter, "Do you think he's doing the right thing?"
The mining foreman makes a particularly delighted squeak, grabs its latest flask of leafy-flowery infusion, which is just now cool enough not to punish such a maneuver with a nasty burn, and upends the whole thing in a couple seconds. It then bounds off joyfully towards the big pit mine over there. It does not often lead the general laborers because of the gymnastic and shield driven block fight, which needs wood, but it happens to be doing so today.
Yellow stands next to the grumbling unhappy green lumber foreman trimp, who is standing on the head of its dual bit ax with its chin on the end of the haft sticking up from the head on the ground. "Cheer up!" the yellow scientist gently prods it in the elbow, "There isn't a Lumber challenge."
1d00h20m05s: Zone 33, 229 He, 9.410 He/hr, 10120 pop, 50N, 40.8s RC with Z32/3390, no turkimp.
"It's a familiar smell," the human says.
"There's no way we've been out this far since whatever it is that shtfed Trimp civilization," Red grumbles. [Word based on acronym SHTF, which stands for "stuff hits the fan" in its G-rated version. Long time ago, similarly derived "nsfw" was a kerbalese cuss word.]
"I think it's from before that," Tightniks clarifies, "from before the time loop stuff."
"I'm worried our fighting group is nearly a third of our population," Yellow sighs.
"Casualties bother you?" Tightniks asks, "I thought we talked about that."
"It's taking forever to breed up new groups, and these things, *snap* ow," Yellow didn't quite touch that one the right way, "you've got 661 thousand of are too small to help. If you don't go now, this will probably be our last Coordination and we won't be able to finish the next zone."
1d06h52m14s: Gymnastic Z35 finally away.
"Did you know it was there?" The red one asks the human as they watch the grey one transcribe another lost chapter of the Gymnastic book.
"No," Tightniks huffs, in a few minutes' break from his trap building, "But I'm not surprised, I hope it gets us Zone 36. In any case, as soon as I finish that millionth trap-"
The mining foreman makes a mournful sound.
"Don't worry, buddy," Tightniks pats it on the head, "I'll brush your tail again last thing before I go." He's working on bin #88.
1d08h00m10s: 12802 pop, 80N, 43.7s RC with Z34/5298, down from 27.4s; '31m00s...
Tightniks, wearing wool-lined leather gloves mixing shimp and bovimp ingredients, plugs the void map that they got from earlier in the zone into the portal, bundled up against the expected cold. He hopes that the fresh Gymnastic Z35 and Coordination Z34 will get them through it.
1d08h33m03s...
"Do you think you can get it back out of there?" Red asks the shivering human as he reaches for the portal.
There are a pair of ejector levers beside the void map slot which clicked when he inserted it, but the void map disappears, so it remained an open question as to whether they could get it back out. Making sure not to have his hands over the void map slot, Tightniks gets a thumb over each one and there's resistance like something is in the empty slot. He grunts and pushes down until they suddenly snap down, the ejected void map rematerializes. "Well, that's a relief," he sets it down and the starts doffing his coats and sweaters to let the warm air of the normal world reach him.
"Try again later?" Yellow asks.
"Yes," the human says.
"What, are you kidding?" Red scoffs, these things level up with the zones!"
"Later on in this zone, obviously," Tightniks grunts with a huff, and then turns to see the grey one holding its little sign with those exact words on it, can't help but smile.
1d09h08m09s: Snimp in Z36c74...
Having just finished yet another trap for bin #95 of the hundred that he needs for the million-traps AP, he tosses it in and looks to the front. There's not much left of that snimp, but it just killed a third fighting group. "The training bonus from running ten laps in an on-level map route doesn't transfer to the void, does it?"
"Shijou," the grey one says with a note of confirmation.
"And I'm getting close to done this pile of traps we need for that 2.5% AP damage bonus."
"Shijou," it says again.
1d09h08m21s: Snimp in Z36c75...
Tightniks sighs, "...and there's another one. So much for that void map with its heinous critically accurate fast voidsnimps and ugly boss fight." And he returns to building traps.
1d10h14m08s: Trying again...
"NULLIFIUM/VOID HEIRLOOM INTERFACE," Tightniks tightens the stuff around himself and then finishes getting the void map inserted with his gloves, and his fingers come together as it puffs out in a brief blue mist in the void environment.
"Timba timba," Tightniks hadn't even noticed that the lumber foreman was up on his head, pats him on the head, wants to get back to work. [No Puchim@s resembles the lumber foreman.]
"Oh, there you are," the human says, "Sorry, I wanted to finish the run with the mining foreman in charge of the resourcing workers. I don't know what's about to happen to it when I hit the Metal challenge."
"Who the devon talked you into into trying this thing again?" Yellow grumbles, looking up at the indigo sky and mysteriously shrunken and dim sun, hands- ...forepaws on its waist, not discomforted by the cold, but bothered by the re-attempt. [This cuss-word after Disturbed song "Inside the Fire".]
"Shijou," the grey one grins above a Rosetta-stone-like sign it's holding with "It was me." in forty-seven languages both human and trimp.
"Zone 37 is hopeless in the time it'll take me to finish building the traps," Tightniks says.
"Won't the cold slow you down?" Red inquires, "It seems to get to you for some reason we don't get."
"Timba timba," the lumber foreman confirms from its perch on Tightiks' jacket hood.
"Yeah," he huffs, tightening it down, "but it slows down the portal clock by the same amount, so who cares?"
1d10h38m48s: Voidsnimp in c12...
Even in the void, Tightniks has gotten used to the sounds of the combat and trimps dying en masse, but when he heard that voidsnimp screech, which is similar to a "drill" robot from an Earth video game he has almost totally forgotten called Descent (Interplay 1995), he almost involuntarily turned to see, Even way back here, they can damage us despite all that gymnastic training? Then it landed the critical hit and wiped them out, as all critical hits do on this void route. He still finished the trap he was working on before going back to the portal, "Forget this, we're just getting the zone blimp." He pops the map from the portal's void slot, and starts getting his void gear off. His uniform long since wore out, so he's wearing something much more cave-manny. [I picked that sound because that sucker was dangerous and terrifying and carried the nearly hitscan Vulcan cannon. There was no Descent II equivalent, but the Thiefbot was pretty annoying.]
1d10h45m30s: 1M traps AP for 2.5%. 1d10h47m36s: Zone 37, 345 He, 9.916 He/hr, 13120 pop, 100N, 33.6s RC with Z34/5298, 2774 pop short, no turkimp.
Tightniks had nearly finished the long procedure for loading and configuring the portal, then sat down with the mining foreman to brush its tail like he promised.
The scientist trimps tried to hit the portal's activation plunger, but it refused to travel the full distance closed for any of them. Quite tired themselves out trying. The only one not exhausted into total silence was the grey one with its exasperated "Shijou..."
The mining foreman refused to go to sleep, and watched intently as Tightniks finally reached over and set it home with one hand. Its last nervous little sigh was the only thing he remembered-
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries...

I had my hair cut (bob cut) about two days ago. I'm not sure if it's supposed to be like that at the back because I used to have a bob cut before also but I also always have it straightened/rebonded.
The second picture was my haircut almost a year ago.

Suddenly, the plane was flying upright again, both engines were operational, and the windows were intact.
Trash and debris was scattered everywhere.
We all either fell from the wall, or rolled off the pinball machines onto the floor.
The unconscious ones just laid there.
I got up and ran to Donna immediately, “Are you ok, beautiful?”, I asked.
“Yes! My knee hurts a little, but I’m ok!”, she answered.
“Sit down, Babe! I’ll rub it!”, I said.
She did, and I rubbed her knee.
Now, most peoples perception of guys in Heavy Metal bands are that they are all chauvinistic pigs, believing that they are “better” than everyone else, including their fans, or misogynistic assholes, only looking to get laid.
That perception is wrong.
Although many guys do fit that criteria, not all are like that.
I am a hopeless romantic by nature. Sue me.
Anyway, Bob then snapped his fingers, and the entire mess was cleaned up instantly.
“Ta-da!”, he said.
“What the FUCK just happened?”, Derek said angrily, sitting up and holding his hand over his left eye.
The 2 conscious girls were just sitting there holding each other crying.
“How did we…”, Ricky started to say, but grabbed the back of his head, and grimaced in pain, as he too sat up.
Corey leaned up on his left arm, and started to say, “Yeah! We were falling…”, he began.
Bob then cut him off by shouting like any worried father would, “REBECCA! Are you alright, my dear?”, as Corey got up and grabbed some napkins from the sandwich station to hold against his bottom lip.
He then took a seat at the table.
“Yes, Daddy! I’m fine!”, Rebecca answered.
“What were you thinking, dear?”, Bob asked her.
“Um! I- I don’t know! I- I saw the girls, and- and I guess I got jealous. I’m sorry, Daddy!”, she said.
“Don’t apologize to me, dear! A little plane crash wouldn’t have hurt me at all. I am the Devil, remember? You need to apologize to Mr. Hard-Sell, Donna, those two girls there, and as soon as they wake up,Tony, and the rest of the girls.”, Bob stated.
Now, in case you’re wondering why Bob didn’t tell Rebecca to apologize to Derek, Corey, Ricky, or Stephen, that’s because they would not have been killed for real. They were already dead, and would just come back to life, remember?
Bob then continued, “Now, go get changed, grab your little bandage bag, and help with the injured.”, Bob instructed.
“Yes, Daddy!”, She said embarrassingly, “It’s called a first aid kit.”
She then turned and slowly disappeared behind the curtain, her tail dragging on the floor once again.
At the same time, we heard the intercom pop again, “Sir! The craziest thing just happened. I- I don’t know. Um, I lost control, now I have control, and we’re back on course! All systems go here. I’ve got a really bad headache though, Sir!”
I didn’t think demons could feel pain, well besides getting hit with Holy Water.
Anyway, Bob then walked over to me, whispered in my right ear, “They’re going to ask questions. You’re going to have to explain this.”, he said.
I just nodded, “I know!”, I responded.
“I will tell them I did it, to take the pressure off of you, for a price of course!”, Bob said.
“”One deal per customer!”, that’s what you told Stacy!”, I said.
“I didn’t like her! I like you! So l’m willing to bend the rules, so to speak.”, Bob replied.
“No, Bob! No more deals. My first deal got me in this mess. I can just imagine what kind of fucked-up shit this one would bring. I’ll tell them the truth. I’ll tell them I did it.”, I shot back.
“Very well, Mr. Hard-Sell. Have it your way!” Bob stated, and walked away.
“What are you two talking about?”, Derek asked, now standing.
“Nothing, Dude! We’ll talk about it later!”, I said.
“Fuck that, Dude! I heard the word “Deal”, you’re not going solo like Satriani and Vai, are you?”, he asked.
“What?”, Corey asked, still covering his lip.
“Mikey! You’re leaving?”, Ricky asked, concerned.
“No, Guys! I’m not making any deals! I’m not leaving!, and I’m not going solo! We… Will Talk… About this… LATER!”, I shouted.
“Alright, Man!”, “Okay, Dude!”, “Sorry, Mikey!”, they all said in response.
Derek and Corey then went to get a beer, then sat at the table.
Ricky just stood there.
Rebecca then came back through the curtain, bouncing like she did before.
This time she wore a “Naughty Nurse’s outfit, cut lower, and higher than the stewardess outfit.
She had a Stethoscope around her neck, white stockings on her legs, a Red Cross on her hat, and a pair of those comfortable white walking shoes that real nurses wear, carrying a suitcase sized first aid kit.
“Tell me where it hurts, Boys!”, she said smiling.
“REBECCA!”, Bob yelled, as the girls stared her down.
“It was worth a try, Daddy!”, she responded, and then went to tend to the unconscious.
She used one pack of smelling salts to wake up Stephen and the girls. But had to use three to wake up Tony, who, after waking up, ran to his girls, just like I did, and began to console them.
They all appeared to be uninjured, except for a severe headache.
“Oh no! My accordion!”, Tony said loudly, then rushed to retrieve it.
He put the strap over his shoulder and played a few notes. They kinda rocked to be honest.
“Still works, Mike!”, he said and gave me a thumbs up.
Anyway, Rebecca wrapped Ricky’s head in gauze, put a huge blue Band-Aid on Derek’s forehead, after using a Sani-wipe to remove all the blood.
She then went to Corey.
In true Rebecca fashion, she slowly bent over, her cleavage directly in his face, then slowly bent her knees until they hit the floor.
She slowly leaned forward, and began dabbing his bottom lip with a gauze, softly moaning, puckering her lips, and moving closer to Corey’s face, as he tried to pull away.
She gently opened her mouth, and moved in fast to kiss Corey, when the black haired girl stood up and screamed, “Hey, He’s mine!”
She then took a step toward Rebecca, who stood up quickly, dropping the gauze, and turned to face her.
Rebecca’s eyes were extremely bright, and her tail was fully erect behind her.
I thought we were gonna see a “Cat Fight”.
But Bob intervened, as he stepped in between them, looking intensely at Rebecca.
“Stop This! Go tend to Edgar, NOW!, and stay there until you are called!… Go!”, he shouted.
Rebecca then huffed, stomped her right foot, turned around, and muttered, “Bitch!”, as she walked through the curtain.
She never did apologize.
Now, in case you’re wondering why the plane was in pristine condition, after I said what I said, but there was shit everywhere, and some of us were still injured.
Well, it’s because you have to be very specific when using this “Gift”. All I asked for was the plane to be whole again, NOT to clean up the mess, or that there wouldn’t be any injuries. Got it?
Ok! Moving on!
Slowly, we all started resuming the things we were doing before Bob had his little talk with us, and Rebecca lost her mind.
After a while, Derek stood up, and said loudly, “Are we just going to ignore the fact that we were spiraling, out of control, headed for certain death. Well, some of you were! And then all of a sudden, WHAM! BAM! THANK YOU, MA’AM! Everything is back to normal. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, BOB?”
“Yeah!”, Corey said.
Everyone, including Tony and the girls, began asking questions and making comments in unison, all directed at Bob.
Bob just looked at me.
I nervously stood up, put my coffee cup on the table, cleared my throat and said loudly, “Okay! Okay! Settle down!… Um, Guys!…That was me!”
They all stopped talking at that point, and just stared at me questionably.
“You?”, Donna asked.
“Yes, Babe!… Me!”, I answered.
“You see, Guys! I have a gift…” I started to say.
“What kind of gift”, Tony asked.
“Yes, Please! Tell us, Mr. Hard-Sell!”, Bob said smirking.
“You’re an asshole, Bob!”, I remarked.
Bob then took both hands, and pointed to himself. “Devil!”, he said, still smirking.
All the girls screamed in fear, “The Devil!”
“Yes, Girls! But he’s a really nice guy, once you get to know him!”, I said, “Now, do you wanna hear what I have to say or not?”
“I wanna know!”, one of the blonde girls said.
I just looked at everyone, as they looked back at me.
“Well, Um!”, I started to say, dreading their response once I said it.
I took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, “I have the ability to get anything I want, all I have to do is say I want it.”
I used air quotes when I used the word want the second time.
I expected a barrage of requests, just like my parents did, but that did not happen.
The only question I got asked was from Stephen, “Have you ever used it on us, Dude?
I paused, then answered, “I’ve only used it a couple times, but, um, as far as I can remember, I only used it on you guys twice.”
“When?” Ricky asked.
“Um! Once, at the house, when we played all the songs perfectly, and once, also at the house, when Derek was doubting himself!”, I replied.
Everyone just looked at each other individually.
Derek than shrugged his shoulders, and said, “Cool!”
Everyone just agreed, and went back to what they were doing.
I sat down, wiping the sweat off my brow.
“I… want… you!”, Donna said smiling, and then kissed me.
The sun was starting to set as nightfall was slowly creeping in.
We sat and watched the sunset together, my arm around her shoulder, her head on mine.
I know you probably don’t care about all the lovey-dovey stuff between Donna and I, but it’s my story, so deal with it!
Anyway, the cabin lights turned on, dimly lighting up the room.
“Who wants to jam?”, Derek said.
The four of us then screamed, “Rock and Roll!” and began heading toward the “Gear” room, excited and ready to play
Tony grabbed his accordion.
Tony, Bob, and all the girls followed behind us.
Derek opened up the door.
What we saw… was the most horrific sight that any musician ever wants to see.
Our gear was completely destroyed.
I guess Bob only cleaned up the mess in the Hangout Room, because he knew about that mess. He had no idea what happened in the Gear Room.
Anyway, Two of the Marshall stacks had fallen on the drum kit, smashing them to the ground, all the guitars, except for one, were broken, their necks severed from their bases, with strings still attached, and strewn all over the room.
The one fully intact guitar, my coffee cup one, was spare headed, neck first, into one of the stacks.
The pedals and plug-ins were scattered everywhere.
The microphone stands were bent, and laying on the floor.
“Our endorsements!”, Ricky said.
“They’re trashed!”, Corey said.
We all just stood there in awe of what we saw.
“Can you fix this?”, Tony’s redhead asked.
“Yeah, Man! Do something, please!”, Derek said.
I walked into the room, thought about what I was going to say, took a deep breath, and said, “I want all of our gear to be returned to the condition they were in when we first toured this plane.”
In the blink of an eye, all our gear was back to pristine condition.
“Yeah, Baby!”, Derek shouted.
“You the Man, Dude!”, Corey said.
“No Fucking Way… You Rock!”, Ricky said, slapping me on the back.
“That’s freakin’ awesome!”, Stephen said.
“You did good, Babe!”, Donna said smiling.
We all then took our places,
Stephen went behind the drum kit. I grabbed my coffee cup guitar, Ricky grabbed his skull guitar, Derek grabbed his Black bass, and Corey stood behind the microphone. Ricky, Derek, and I plugged in, Corey turned his mic on, and we all just stood there.
We must have looked like something out of a car wreck, with Ricky looking like a mummy in his head wrap, Derek with his big blue, not noticeable at all, bandage on his forehead, and Corey with his busted lip.
Tony, holding his accordion, all the girls, and Bob, gathered in front of us.
“In My Heart!”, I called out. That’s a another song I wrote.
Stephen counted it off, and we jammed that song, while everyone, including Bob, was head banging, and rocking out.
Tony was mimicking playing the song on the accordion.
“Tear it down!”, I called out, when we finished “In my heart”.
That’s yet another… you get the idea, right?
Anyway, we played two more songs.
After the fourth song, we heard Edgar’s nasally voice once again, but it wasn’t from the intercom.
“Bravo!…Bravo… Encore!”, he said clapping from the doorway.
Everyone in the “audience” turned to look at him, the band just stepped to the side.
“Who’s flying the plane?”, Stephen asked.
“Rebecca!”, Edgar replied laughing.
We all began to freak out.
“Nah! I’m just kidding! I put the autopilot on!” Edgar quickly said, “I tried to page Mr. Belz to the cockpit, but he never came. I guess he couldn’t hear me. So, I came down here to get him. I heard your little concert, and came to have a listen. You guys rock!”
“What do you need Edgar?”, Bob asked.
“Well, Sir!…”, Edgar replied, “It’s almost time to land, and Um! I don’t know how to do that, Sir!”

“Hi, Guys”, Edgar said, in that same nasal tone, waving at us palm open once again.
The tape holding his cheap sunglasses together was orange.
Did you catch that reference. If so, good for you.
Anyway, I assume he wore sunglasses not only trying to make himself look cool, but also to hide the fact that his eyes blinked sideways, remember?
He wore a blue pilot’s uniform, complete with the hat,
“Dude! Are you fucking kidding me?”, Derek said.
“I don’t think so, Dude!”, Corey responded.
“I’m not too sure about this, Bob!”, I said.
“Don’t worry, Boys! He’s been playing a flight simulator game on what he calls his TRS-80 computer, for quite some time now. He’ll be fine.”, Bob replied.
“A Flight Simulator Game?”, we all said shockingly in unison, including Tony.
“Doesn’t he need a Pilot’s license or something?” I asked.
“Boys, Boys, I assure you, that if any complications arise, I will handle the situation! I AM the devil! I can do that! Besides, finding a licensed pilot, and negotiating a deal, would take far too much time! Time… we do not have! So, Edgar is our only option.” Bob said.
We all half heartedly waved back, nervously smiling, “Hi, Edgar!”, we all said in unison once again. Tony just said “Hi!”
Derek, Corey, Ricky, Stephen and I were all taken back by the fact that the “person” that tried to kill us, was apparently the pilot of our new plane, with absolutely no formal training, just a video game, and not even a good one, compared to todays standards.
I knew my bandmates were already dead, but I was pretty sure they didn’t want to die again, now or any other time before, even if they’d all come back to life.
“Come on up, Guys! We’ll be taking off soon!”, Edgar said.
“Boys, up we go!”, Bob said, moving his arm in a presenting fashion toward the stairs.
“Once we enter, put the stairs in their proper place and take the bus back to the house!” Bob said to the old man.
“Yes, Boss!”, he said.
“Wait! My accordion!”, Tony said, as he stepped back onto the bus to get it.
“That was close! I almost forgot it again!, he said.
“Cool, Man! That way you can jam with us!”, I commented
“I’d like that”, Tony said smiling.
Nervously, we all then began the ascend into the plane.
Bob went first, then Derek, then Corey, then Ricky, then Stephen, then me, and last was Tony.
“Who’s Edgar?”, I heard Tony ask from behind me.
If you remember, Tony had never met Edgar before.
“Long story short, Dude!”, I answered, slightly turning around but still walking up the stairs, “He recorded our album, played keyboards on it, put backmasking bullshit on the tapes, turned into a demon, and tried to kill us!”
“Dang!”, is all Tony said.
We reached the top of the stairs.
Bob shook Edgar’s hand, stepping inside.
Edgar then raised his hand to high five each one of us.
We all high fived him, nervously smiling, as we stepped onto the plane as well.
“Hi, Pilot Guy!”, we heard Tony say, stepping onto the plane. “I’m Tony! I’m their bodyguard!”
“Wonderful!”, Edgar replied.
“Have a look around, Guys! I’ll let you know when we’re taking off. I have to contact the tower to get clearance or something, I think. This is my first time ever flying a real plane. I’m kinda nervous.”, he said.
That did not help the situation AT ALL!
“Boys, right this way!”, Bob said, pushing a curtain open that lead into the fuselage, or the main body section of the plane.
“You see Boys! I have taken the liberty of dividing the fuselage into three separate sections. First is what I like to call… your “Hangout” section.
The room was filled with luxurious high-end furniture, tables and chairs.
A huge 85 inch flat screen television hung to your left, on the same wall the curtain was on when you first walked in, with both Atari, and Nintendo NES game systems hooked up to it, with a huge stack of games, for each console, next to them, and a Gothic Victorian style chair sat to the right of the curtain.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Flat screens didn’t come out until 1997! So how did you have one back then!”, and my answer to that would be… I don’t know. But, Bob is the devil, so…
Anyway, There was a fully stocked coffee bar, and a fully stocked beer on tap station, with six of the best beers the 80’s had to offer, as well as a stack of red Solo cups on the left side, and a make your own SUBWAY sub and sandwich station, all on the left side wall, six pinball machines sat vertically along the wall in front of you when you first walked in, with one wooden door in the middle of them.
Large couches sat on the wall to your right. In between them were two vending machines, one was a cigarette vending machine, but the other was something I had never seen before.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the machine on the right.
“Oh! That is a marijuana vending machine, same design as the cigarette machine, only with joints already rolled, in packs of 20. I created it myself!”, Bob answered.
There were ashtrays on the tables, with lighters on the tables next to each one.
“Everything on this plane is free, Boys! If you run out of something, wait 5 seconds, human time, and what ever you ran out of will automatically fill back up.”, he told us, “Here you can drink, smoke, party, play games, and have a grand ole time.
“Free weed, Dude! We won’t need Randy anymore!”, Derek said to Corey.
“Yeah! No more Randy!”, Corey replied, laughing.
“Beyond that door there, is the second section, what I like to call… your sleeping/entertainment section.”, Bob said, “Here, let me show you, Boys!”
Tony laid his accordion on the couch on the right.
We all then walked over to the door, and Bob opened it.
Inside was a long hallway that stretched the entire length of the room, with another wooden door at the end.
There were 3 wooden doors on each side, a small nameplate was positioned at eye level, on the right side of each door, with the name of each one of us, on each plate, so six small rooms occupied this space
“Here you can sleep, in your own room, Boys! or “entertain” the ladies!”
“We don’t need to sleep!”, Derek said.
“Well, four of you don’t, one of you doesn’t have to sleep if he doesn’t want to, only one of you has to sleep, and if he doesn’t want to, I’m sure Mr. Hard-Sell here could help him out with that. It’s mostly for entertainment purposes.”, Bob said.
“Huh?”, Tony said.
“Girls!”, Corey responded, moving his hands in a curving fashion, up and down, “You know… Girls!” He emphasized the word girls when he said it the last time.
“Oh! I like girls! They’re pretty!”, Tony said.
“Anyway, each room is equipped with a bunk style bed. After all, that is all you will need.”
“What’s behind that door?”, Stephen asked, pointing to the door at the end of the hallway.
We all then began walking down the hallway to the door.
Bob then opened it.
Just like in the room that should have been the bathroom in the house, this room had what?
That’s right!… Our Gear!
Well, not OUR gear, but new gear.
A brand new Yamaha Drum kit, as well as a brand new set of Warmie Promark LA Special drum sticks, just like Bobby Blotzer from RATT used, sat in front of 5 Marshall stacks which sat against the far wall.
The drums were designed with flames, with the band name printed on the bass drum, written in flames as well.
They were obviously for Stephen.
That wall had no door this time, but there was a little room, maybe 3x3, that sat on the left side of the stacks and the drum kit. Bob said that was the bathroom, or lavatory, as he put it.
Anyway, There were 3 ESP guitars, with straps, on stands, just like George Lynch from Dokken played, to the right of the drums. Bob said those were mine. One had flames, one had a coffee cup design, and the other was leopard print.
There were 3 Les Paul Standards, also with straps, on stands, just like Kirk Hammett played, next to mine on the right, those were Ricky’s. One had a broken glass design, one was white with some kind of Japanese insignia, and one had the label of a Budweiser bottle on it.
There were 3 Ibanez Thunderbird Basses, again with straps, on stands, just like Nikki Sixx from… if you don’t know what band Nikki Sixx plays with, you’re probably too young to appreciate this story.
Anyway, they were to the left of the drums, the basses had no designs, they were black, red, and dark blue. Those were obviously Derek’s.
There were 4 Shure Cardioid Condensed Microphones, just like Lenny Kilister from Motörhead used, sitting in front of the drums. One of those were Corey’s and the rest were for Derek, Ricky, and I to use for backing vocals.
A brand new MRX Analog Chorus pedal, just like Eddie Ojeda from Twisted Sister used, sat in front of each set of guitars.
All the plug-ins were neatly piled in front of each instrument.
There was no keyboard, like Edgar played on the album, which was odd to me.
”You see, Boys! As your manager, i have been offered very lucrative endorsement contracts from each of these fine companies, on your behalf of course. When we get back from the tour, I will present the contracts to you for your signing.
All the companies have agreed to let you try out their products first, before making any decisions!”
Derek yelled out, “EVERYBODY!”,
The rest of us screamed, “ROCK AND ROLL!”, and began celebrating, and high-fiving each other, including Tony.
“Also, I contacted a sandwich company called, SUBWAY, and offered you, Tony, as being their official spokesperson. They said that your size would not be a very good image for their company, but after agreeing to supply the CEO with a lifetime supply of Kit Kat candy bars, She agreed.
Your contract is very lucrative as well.
Now, Boys! We’ll be taking off soon. Let’s head back to the front, shall we?”, Bob said.
We all began walking back, Bob closing each door behind us.
We arrived back at the “Hangout” section, and began indulging in all the incentives.
Do I really have to tell you who went where, you get the idea, Right?
Anyway, after getting our incentives and taking a seat at the table, we all began talking, as Bob stood in front of the TV.
In midst of conversation, we heard, “Daddy, Where are you!”, a soft woman’s voice said from behind the curtain.
We all stopped talking and looked in that direction.
The curtain slowly began to open, revealing a long red haired woman standing there seductively.
She had bright green eyes, pouty lips, and was very well endowed.
She wore a skin tight, low cut stewardesses top, with a low cut skirt, and what appeared to be 6 inch stiletto heels on her feet.
Her left leg was positioned in front of her right leg, with her knee bent, with only the toes of her heels touching the floor.
She was holding the curtain open with both hands, and leaning in toward the room, with her head tilted to the side.
She looked like a Rock Goddess.
“Ah! There you are!”, Bob said to her, “Right on time!”
“Boys! I’d like you to meet Rebecca. She will be your stewardess for todays flight, and every flight there after.
If you need anything, outside of these incentives, food and beverage wise, Rebecca will go to the kitchen area, which is right behind that curtain, and prepare it for you.
A steak, a hamburger, a glass of soda, or a cup of tea.
The kitchen area, as well as the Cockpit, which lies just beyond the kitchen, are both off limits to all of you.
“I don’t drink tea! I’m still mad at the British!”, Tony said.
I snickered.
The rest of the guys, including Bob, just looked at him funny.
If you don’t get it, you probably never will.
Anyway, Bob then continued, “Rebecca will also be your nurse, she has a totally different outfit for that, just in case any, accidents may occur.
Say Hi, Rebecca”, Bob said.
“Hi, Boys!”, she said seductively.
Bob then looked at her hard faced, then turned back to us.
“Like I said, Boys! Everything on this plane is free, except for her, not even for a price. Do you understand?”
Before we could answered, we all heard Rebecca say seductively, “Aw, Daddy! But they’re so cute!”
“ENOUGH!”, Bob bellowed at her, “Go tell Edgar we’re ready!”
“Yes, Daddy!”, she said saddened, and slowly turned to go back through the curtain.
“Dude! That’s the Devils Daughter! We’ve heard songs about her.”, Derek said, laughing.
Bob looked at Derek more intensely then he looked at Rebecca.
“I’m just kidding, Man! We ain’t heard shit. Right, Core?”, Derek said nervously.
“Yeah, Man! Nothing!”, Corey said, shaking his head.
Everyone else had their eyes fixated on Bob.
I, however, couldn’t take my eyes off of Rebecca.
Not because she was incredibly gorgeous, even though she really wasn’t my type.
No!
It was because something didn’t seem right to me. Something that told me, she was different than your average sexy, voluptuous, naughty stewardess.
And my assessment was correct.
When she fully turned around, to go back behind the curtain, I saw what the difference was.
She had a tail.
It was waving excitedly behind her.

Python 3.10.6 (tags/v3.10.6:9c7b4bd, Aug 1 2022, 21:53:49) [MSC v.1932 64 bit (AMD64)] Version: v1.9.3 Commit hash: 1c0a0c4c26f78c32095ebc7f8af82f5c04fca8c0 Launching Web UI with arguments: --autolaunch --medvram --xformers --theme=dark --disable-safe-unpickle CHv1.8.7: Get Custom Model Folder ControlNet preprocessor location: D:\Programs\STABLE DIFFUSION\webui\extensions\sd-webui-controlnet\annotator\downloads 2024-05-20 18:32:02,480 - ControlNet - INFO - ControlNet v1.1.449 Loading weights [07919b495d] from D:\Programs\STABLE DIFFUSION\webui\models\Stable-diffusion\picxReal_10.safetensors CHv1.8.7: Set Proxy: 2024-05-20 18:32:02,849 - ControlNet - INFO - ControlNet UI callback registered. Creating model from config: D:\Programs\STABLE DIFFUSION\webui\configs\v1-inference.yaml Running on local URL: http://127.0.0.1:7860 To create a public link, set `share=True` in `launch()`. D:\Programs\STABLE DIFFUSION\system\python\lib\site-packages\huggingface_hub\file_download.py:1132: FutureWarning: `resume_download` is deprecated and will be removed in version 1.0.0. Downloads always resume when possible. If you want to force a new download, use `force_download=True`. warnings.warn( Startup time: 11.1s (prepare environment: 2.3s, import torch: 3.9s, import gradio: 0.8s, setup paths: 0.9s, initialize shared: 0.2s, other imports: 0.6s, load scripts: 1.4s, create ui: 0.7s, gradio launch: 0.4s). Applying attention optimization: xformers... done. Model loaded in 3.2s (load weights from disk: 0.8s, create model: 0.4s, apply weights to model: 1.7s, calculate empty prompt: 0.2s). 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 16/16 [00:11<00:00, 1.43it/s] 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 16/16 [00:10<00:00, 1.47it/s] Total progress: 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 32/32 [00:23<00:00, 1.36it/s] 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 16/16 [00:10<00:00, 1.46it/s] 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 16/16 [00:10<00:00, 1.48it/s] Total progress: 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 32/32 [00:23<00:00, 1.36it/s] Total progress: 100%██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████ 32/32 [00:23<00:00, 1.52it/s] 

What haircuts do best with concealing hair thinning in the front? I have no problem going short. I had a bob, but it has grown out. My hair loss is mainly right in front. Thanks!

Hello! I've seen that a lot of people are confused about ENFJs and how exactly we work, and considering that there are many websites with different —even contradictory— concepts and definitions of ENFJ, I wanted to provide one closer to what Carl Jung first described in Psychological Types in 1921. I hope this will help people gain a wider perspective of our type, and clear up some associated misconceptions.
But, before we begin, there are some concepts and questions that need to be addressed first:
❓ Are websites like 16 Personalities reliable? What about tests?
📣 No, they aren't. 16 Personalities has wildly different concepts about types, and most importantly: while it's not outright stated, their personality model isn't based on jungian functions or the types Myers-Briggs described in Gifts Differing in 1980. Their test and type description is based on the Big Five personality model, which is something else on its own. You can check this in more detail on their FAQ page. If you used 16p to discover your type, there's a high chance it may not be the same type as what Jung or Myers-Briggs describe in their respective books. Other websites and tests may also handle different concepts, so take their results with a grain of salt.
❓ If tests and websites are unreliable, how can I be sure of my type?
📣 By reading! I'm afraid that there isn't a quick shortcut to instantly know yourself and what type best fits you. Knowing your type is a journey in itself, full of self-reflection and doubt. It's hard, but very rewarding. However, if you are doing this just for fun, feel free to take any popular tests floating around.
❓ I am friendly and outgoing, but sometimes I need space. Am I INFJ or ENFJ?
📣 Social extraversion/introversion and cognitive extraversion/introversion are two different things. Jung managed his concepts and descriptions of different psychological phenomena and gave them different meanings from what we're familiar with. I know, it's confusing. But I'll do my best to clear up what he actually meant later on, so don't worry!
❓ Where are you getting all this information?
📣 Psychological Types, by Carl Jung. I also have Gifts Differing: Understanding Personality Type by Isabel Briggs Myers with Peter B. Myer, however, I am not fond of Myers-Briggs' interpretation of Jung's writings. In my opinion, it's an oversimplified version of types and functions, and she displayed an obvious intuitive bias in her book. Another book that's popular is Lectures on Jung's Typology by Marie-Louise von Franz, who also worked together with Jung to describe types and functions. However, be warned: by her own admission, she dislikes Fe-dom types and her description of ExFJ is rather insulting, so expect some bias as well.
Before we begin talking about what is ENFJ, we have to understand Jung's word salad and what he meant with all these concepts and descriptions. It takes a lot of patience and effort to understand Psychological Types, because as you may know (or not!), psychology is a relatively new science, and many of its roots come from philosophy, anthropology, and even religion. Jung refers to a lot of other authors, philosophers, and other literary figures to describe what he believed were "personality types".
What was the goal with all this? Well, Carl Jung was a Swiss psychoanalyst, and by associating certain patterns of behavior with different mental illnesses, he aimed to make their diagnosis easier for other psychiatrists. So, understandably, Psychological Types is full of technical language that may be hard to understand for anyone who isn't already familiar with the field of psychology. This is why a lot of other websites and other authors, while relying on Jung to describe types, tend to water down concepts and inevitably miss some important context that can't be properly explained until you take the effort to read the entire thing. That's why we have like 10 different descriptions of the same type or functions floating around.
Jung associated Fe-types like ENFJ or ESFJ with hysteria. Of course, this was back in the 19th century, and the target of this diagnosis was almost always women. Thankfully, it's no longer an official mental illness.
⚠️ An important consideration: most of the original texts that laid the foundation for MBTI to exist are from the early 19th century. Expect a lot of sexism and traditional gender roles.

"It may seem superfluous to the reader if I add a special chapter on definitions of terms to the text of my study. However, I have had ample experience of the fact that it is precisely in psychological works that one cannot be careful enough with terms and expressions, since it is precisely in the field of psychology, as nowhere else, that the greatest variations of terms occur, which often give rise to the most stubborn misunderstandings." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 476).

I will not be listing every single concept, because it'd take the entirety of this post and even more to explain what everything means. I'll list the most common ones that show up when describing types.
🫂 Extravertion and Intravertion:

"If we look at the course of a human life, we see how the destinies of one person are more conditioned by the objects of his interests, while the destinies of another are more conditioned by his own inner being, by his subject. As we all deviate somewhat more to one side or the other, we are naturally inclined to understand everything in terms of our own type." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 4)

As I said before, extraversion and introversion have different meanings in this area, so when we talk about an extraverted type, we mean to say that it's a type whose dominant function is an extraverted one. To understand better what is an extraverted function, we need to have two vital concepts in mind: subject and object.
🌎 The object, in this concept, is anything that exists outside your mind: it may be the world, it may be people, it may be experiences, it may be sensations, anything that is not inherently part of you. It may be what's happening in your environment, or the environment in itself. It's the external, that which exists without needing any additional interpretation or guessing.
👤 The subject is you. Your mind, your feelings, your values, your logic, your impressions, your subjective interpretation of ideas or people or what's happening around you. Anything that is purely personal, be it your inner understanding of how things fit together, your interpretation of a painting, your like or dislike of a song, etc. Your subjective experiences or thoughts, that's the subject.
In a way, it's you, the subject vs. the world, the object. Of course, there's much more to this, but this is the easiest way I can explain it. You'll see these two concepts popping around because they're the very foundation of functions.

"But every human being possesses both mechanisms, extraversion and introversion, and only the relative predominance of one or the other determines the type." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 5).

Extraversion and Introversion, as I was saying before, are defined by what's your disposition towards the external world vs. the inner self. If your decisions are mostly influenced by what's happening outside your mind, then we are talking about an extrovert. If your decisions are influenced by your own inner world, regardless of what's happening outside of it, then we talk about an introvert.

"If the orientation towards the object and the objectively given prevails in such a way that the most frequent and most important decisions and actions are not conditioned by subjective views but by objective conditions, we speak of an extraverted attitude. If this is habitual, we speak of an extraverted type. If someone thinks, feels and acts, in a word, lives in a way that directly corresponds to objective circumstances and their requirements, in both a good and a bad sense, then they are extraverted. He lives in such a way that it is obvious that the object as a determining factor plays a greater role in his consciousness than his subjective view. Certainly he has subjective views, but their determining power is less than that of external objective conditions." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (pp. 384-385).

It's important to know that Jung initially described only four functions: Feeling, Thinking, Intuition, and Sensing. These functions would be either extraverted or introverted depending on how they relate to the external, objective world vs. the inner, subjective world. For example, Extraverted Feeling (Fe) is an extraverted feeling function because it favors the external feeling environment over more personal, subjective feelings that only belong to the subject.
In contrast, the introvert prefers to make decisions based on their inner self, on their personal views and convictions, regardless of what's happening around them. Someone whose function is introverted will not value the outside world a lot, and feels like is a threat to them:

"The introvert has an abstract attitude towards the object; basically, he is always anxious to withdraw his libido from the object, as if he had to prevent the object from overpowering him." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 380).

Now that we have some basic concepts cleared out, I hope understanding the Extraverted Feeling type is a bit easier. I want to start by how Jung described Fe:

"Feeling in the extraverted attitude is oriented towards the objectively given, i.e. the object is the indispensable determinant of the way of feeling. It is in accordance with objective values. Whoever knows feeling only as a subjective fact will not readily understand the nature of extraverted feeling, because extraverted feeling has freed itself as far as possible from the subjective factor and has instead subjected itself entirely to the influence of the object." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 411).

❗️We have to understand here that feelings are not emotions. Under this context, feeling is what we either accept or reject, what we value or not, how do we feel about something. An emotion, in this context, is something that causes a bodily response: if you feel angry, your heartbeat increases, your arms shake, and your face turns red. If you feel sad, you'll start crying and shaking. If you feel happy, your heartbeat increases and you smile. In contrast, just liking or disliking something may or may not make you react in any way. For example, let's say that you have an intense dislike of a celebrity. You don't start shaking and crying just because you dislike that celebrity. But what if you're a fan of a certain band? If you listen to one of their songs, you may start feeling happy. In both of these cases, we have two concepts floating around: a "feeling" (disliking a celebrity or liking a band) and an "emotion" that may be a reaction to that feeling (feeling happy when listening to your favorite band).
Feeling types usually have this misconception going around that we're emotional wrecks and can't think logically. This misunderstanding comes from the confusion that Feeling means being emotional. And while a feeling can give rise to an emotion, it's not emotion in itself, these are two different things. To put it simply: Feelings are values, and emotions are reactions to those values.
Now, to continue on how Jung described Fe, he gave a great example of how this type of Feeling is influenced by the outside world:

"I can feel compelled to use the predicate "beautiful" or "good", not because I find the object "beautiful" or "good" out of subjective feeling, but because it is appropriate to call it "beautiful" or "good"; and appropriate insofar as a judgment to the contrary would somehow disturb the general emotional situation. Such an appropriate emotional judgment is by no means a simulation or even a lie, but an act of fitting in. Thus, for example, a painting may be called "beautiful" because a painting hung in a salon and signed with a well-known name is generally assumed to be "beautiful", or because the predicate "ugly" could offend the family of the happy owner, or because the intention on the part of the visitor is to create a pleasant emotional atmosphere, for which it is necessary that everything is felt to be pleasant. Such feelings are directed according to objective determinants. As such, they are genuine and represent the entire visible feeling function." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (pp. 411-412).

A common misunderstanding surrounding Fe, and by extension Fe types, is that Fe is by nature insincere and fake, and that we're double-faced and superficial. But I think of it differently: if your friend got a bad haircut and they look terrible, is it dishonest to say that it isn't that bad if it comes from an honest intention of not wanting to hurt their feelings over something they can't change? Do you always need to tell people what you think, regardless of how it may affect them? I think honesty without kindness is just cruelty.
But, moving on!

"The evaluations made through the act of feeling correspond either directly to objective values or at least to certain traditional and generally accepted standards of value. It is largely due to this kind of feeling that so many people go to the theater or to a concert or to church with properly measured positive feelings. It is also to thank for the fashions, and what is far more valuable, the positive and widespread support of social, philanthropic and other cultural endeavors. In these things, extraverted feeling proves to be a creative factor. Without this feeling, for example, beautiful and harmonious sociability is unthinkable. In this respect, extraverted feeling is just as beneficial and rational a power as extraverted thinking." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 412)

To me, Fe represents that desire for human connection, to feel community, to think about others. We live in an age where hyperindividualism is encouraged everywhere, to care about yourself only, to isolate and disregard anyone who doesn't make you feel good. If that kind of mindset is pushed constantly by corporations and influencers, a lot of people will have a hard time understanding something like Fe, since it opposes everything hyperindividualism stands for. It's frustrating, but I think it's also not surprising to see a lot of people in the MBTI community having an intense dislike of Fe types, especially Fe-dom types, because of this. The idea that only you, as an individual, matter, is so prevalent that for some people, caring about something other than yourself is just dumb.
⚠️ Another thing to take in mind is that Jung determines the dominant function by what we value the most. By this, it means that your intention is what matters, not the results. For example, a socially awkward person can be an ENFJ as long as they value the outside feeling environment over everything else, no matter how clumsy they may be at it. We tend to think of ENFJ as mind-readers, masters of socialization, or community leaders, and it certainly can be the case! But, just as the ENFJ can be a well-loved, charismatic therapist, it can also be the nervous shrinking violet who awkwardly tries to please people around them. We often make the mistake of measuring someone's preference of a function by how "skilled" they are at it, by how much positive results come from them using that function, when in reality, you can be an absolute dimwit and still be a Ti-dom. Your dominant function is always the one that dictates your decisions, regardless of the results of those decisions.
Now, as with all functions, Extraverted Feeling has its dark side.

"However, this beneficial effect is lost as soon as the object gains excessive influence. In this case, the overly extraverted feeling draws the personality too much into the object, i.e. the object assimilates the person, whereby the personal character of the feeling, which is its main stimulus, is lost. This makes the feeling cold, objective and untrustworthy. It betrays a secret intention, or at least arouses such suspicions in the unbiased observer. It no longer makes that pleasant and refreshing impression which always accompanies a genuine feeling, but one senses posturing or acting, when perhaps the egocentric intention is still quite unconscious." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (pp. 412-413).

It's possible to care too much. When Fe gains excessive influence over the psyche, it places so much value on harmonious relationships that it comes at the detriment of the subject. Unhealthy Fe demands that you adapt to every single social environment, to make sure to please everyone, and to sacrifice your personhood in favor of the external feeling world. This is why the unhealthy Fe user comes across as fake and dishonest: it's impossible to be a different person to fit in with different social settings without sacrificing your integrity.

"Since situations in life constantly alternate with one another, triggering different or even contrasting emotional tones, the personality dissolves into just as many different feelings. One time you are one thing, the next time something completely different - apparently, because in reality such a diversity of personality is impossible." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 415).

When we talk about types turning unhealthy or acting in erratic or destructive ways, we also have to talk about their inferior function. After all, is your inferior function that keeps your dominant function in check, so to speak. Your inferior function is a sensible counterpart that, while it opposes your dominant function, it provides a different perspective, like another voice that says "yes, but..." to anything you say. This is the role of Introverted Thinking (Ti).
❗️Contrary to popular belief, inferior Ti is not when you lack intelligence, logic, or intellect. To begin with, Thinking isn't related to intelligence. It can lead to it, but just like Feeling can lead to emotions, it ultimately isn't emotions in itself. In the same way, Thinking can lead to intelligence, but it isn't intelligence in itself. It's a process of thought, not the result of that thought. For example, you can think about a math problem, but that thinking may not necessarily lead to a correct answer.
The relationship between the dominant function and the inferior function is the most important one. If the balance between the two functions is disturbed, it leads to destructive or toxic behaviors, or as how Jung called it, neurosis. So what is the relationship between Ti and Fe?

"You can only feel "right" if nothing else disturbs your feelings. But nothing disturbs feeling as much as thinking. It is therefore easy to understand why thinking is suppressed as much as possible in this type of person. This is by no means to say that such a woman does not think at all; on the contrary, she may think a great deal and very intelligently, but her thinking is never sui generis, but an epimetheic appendage of her feeling. As far as feeling permits, she can think very well, but any conclusion, however logical, which might lead to a result disturbing to feeling, is rejected a limine. It is simply not thought." Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 414)

Thinking is the opposing force to Feeling. And for a type that values Feeling the most, it's only to be expected that it tries to suppress Thinking the most. If a logical thought has the power to disturb the social harmony, the average or unhealthy ENFJ will do their best to pretend it isn't there. But it's impossible to completely suppress a part of your mind. The thoughts that you're desperately trying to push away, will always come back in different forms:

"Unconscious thinking reaches the surface in the form of ideas, often of an obsessive nature, whose general character is always negative and devaluing. There are therefore moments in women of this type when the worst thoughts attach themselves to the very objects that the feeling values most highly. Negative thinking makes use of all infantile prejudices or comparisons that are suitable for casting doubt on the value of feelings, and it draws on all primitive instincts in order to be able to explain feelings as "nothing but". Jung, Carl. Psychological Types (p. 417).

By this, Jung means that the suppressed Ti will leak out in the form of harsh criticism, prejudice, or comparing people according to unreasonable expectations of them, destroying the previously positive feelings about them. Basically, Ti will turn destructive, making the usually pleasant ENFJ assume the worst out of someone.
All of the above paints a picture of a dishonest, paranoid, and troubled ENFJ. They're desperate to win people over, to make everyone happy, but they have lost themselves in this desire and sacrificed their integrity to the point they sound hollow, they lack substance, and the more they try, the less convincing they are. At the same time, their inferior Ti makes them think all sorts of terrible things about the people around them, and they start doubting their relationships and the sincerity of the people they love.
🫂 I will be making a part two later describing Ni from Jung's perspective and how to tell ENFJ and INFJ apart. Ni is kind of tricky to describe, especially as an auxiliary function, but I'm sure it'll help a lot of people who may be confused about their type! Also, the majority of what I described above can be applied to the ENFJ's sensor counterpart, ESFJ. And as I said before, Jung only described four functions and eight personality types, which later expanded to 16 personality types under Myers-Briggs system, therefore there isn't a "function stack" to speak of right now, but I can do my best to describe the closest thing we have to it from Psychological Types.
I hope this was helpful. Thank you for reading! 💖

Anyone know why there are so many pawns named “Silent”? They all look identical - female, white bob haircut, all white eyes… anytime I look at the monthly ranking list, there is seriously like an army of them. Did I miss something?

im not sure if it’s wavy but it does curl when I squeeze it when it’s soaking wet, I have layers (I Really regret getting them. my stupid ahh followed a random TikTok tutorial on how to get a layered butterfly haircut 😭.) I’m thinking about getting a bob to get rid of the layers, not sure if that’ll help

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Season 10 “Days of Fury” - Episode 2 “Visiting Omen”

He had hoped for a boring day. Boring days are good at work, and Santos was already expecting to not have many of them for a while.
The first couple of days were boring, as usual- Blackriver is a small town, and the worst that had happened was Nila and Kessa making a few wellness checks after worried calls from neighbors. A couple of people in denial, a few ashamed at their own violent outbursts and a stern warning to Tamm about painting others’ properties without asking first.
This morning, however, began with an all-hands meeting. There were no meeting rooms in the office, so they made do in the general workspace room, they all stood there at the center while Keya looked them over.
“We have received a report from a neighboring city about a convoy of protestors making its way to Blackriver” she describes without tone. At this point nobody bothers interrupting.
“This convoy is comprised of approximately four hundred and seventy eight individuals of multiple species, primarily human and venlil but with operationally relevant representations of the entire spectrum of size and mobility types” her paws are behind her back, her ears focused directly ahead, her eyes centered to keep the entire team on the core of her focus “They have crossed multiple cities already, generally engaging in verbal sparring with any figure of authority, parading signs and banners denouncing all manners of authorities as well as occasionally engaging in physical altercations with officers.”
“They are also known to engage in vandalism. Though primarily aimed at exterminator and police precincts as well as public offices, they have already caused considerable collateral to others they have identified as ‘collaborators’” there’s a single heartbeat of waiting for breath before she continues “They have, however, not shown to be an incredibly organized group or one with a clear goal and objective. The convoy appears to contain only extremely emotionally charged people with no clear overarching goal.”
“We are incapable of dealing with the situation should they turn aggressive, as such we will be simply maintaining watch and relocating the populace should they become a problem.” Then, she picks up her holopad and passes it to Lunek beside her “They can only follow one path with the entire convoy, the central street, therefore I have divided it into four sectors. One of each will be assigned to a sector.”
First her ears turn to the first target “Lunek, sector one at the entrance. As the most approachable member of the precinct your task is to give an initial image of harmlessness. Do not engage first, do not take initiative against them. Ensure the members of the herd in the area are warned of their approach. If they become aggressive, retreat and focus on the escape of the herd.”
She tilts her head a little bit, turning her ears the other way “Marik, sector two. Mostly the commercial area, your task is ostensive protection to lower the chances of them initiating aggression. Whereas protection of the herd is first priority your second priority is ensuring Tenve’s Hardware Store as well as Sunbreeze Meals and Watchful Café remain capable of providing anyone whose residences become damaged.” suddenly, she turns her head entirely to face Marik “Ostensive protection means dissuasion, ensure that they know they are not under threat and as long as those specific areas are not engaged, do not provoke”
Next in her line of fire is Santos “As our human officer you will be in sector three, nearby the precinct. They are liable to become most agitated in this area and your presence may serve to calm them. You are not to engage, if deemed necessary the precinct’s materials are considered expendable, do not attempt to stop them”
“Sector four, the exit of town, will be with me to ensure that they have fully left Blackriver and will not attempt to turn back” then she tilts her ears again “Aren, you will gear up with a CCG and remain out of view range, your task will be quick emergency response should the need arise.” she then points her tail at the last three officers “Vess, your task will be to inform the herd and ensure a clear path for the convoy while Nila and Kessa will gather all of our medical supplies and set a staging area out of the convoy’s range. Organize ambulance assistance from Striped Hill and Everrain”
Then, she turns her ears around to focus each one in turn “As any attempt at aggression will end only in negative consequences, and in order to reduce the apparent levels of threat you will be unarmed. The estimated time of arrival is a third of a claw, ready yourselves and be at your post in time. Dismissed.”
“Not sure if I like or I don’t that we had the cold bastard right now” Aren says, as soon as Keya had left the room “Maybe we should move in closer when the convoy gets to sector four?”
“Probably a good idea to be nearby” Santos adds with a sigh “They might take umbrage with her demeanor, hopefully they won’t be set off too hard.”
And with silent signs of agreement all of the officers of Blackriver depart for preparations. The first ones to leave the precinct are the ones in charge of support, the two girls set off early to find someone willing to permit usage of their lawn as a possible impromptu field hospital and a little while later Aren leaves with a heavy CCG.
Slowly, the clock ticks to the appointed claw… And soon enough, Lunek can see in the distance the incoming omen of people. At first a distant line in the horizon, slowly the dark mark on the road coalesces into distinct shapes, the shapes of hundreds of vehicles slowly rolling down the road.
When the first few get close to the initial buildings of the main street, the entire convoy slows down. Their process of preparation is seemingly laborious, each vehicle houses multiple people at a time, smaller cars full to the brim, flatbeds with more people on their cargo space than can safely be contained, even buses conscripted for the effort. They carry with them signs, flags, a multitude of symbols as they dismount their vehicles and start spreading out to fill the street.
They seem to naturally form two distinct yet highly mixed groups, at its most distinctive is the pack of humans who keep a good distance from each other. But they are not alone in this group as takkan, mazic, yotul, zurulian and even drilvar form this central group. But flowing around them, not avoiding their presence but never infringing in their space is the grey mass of venlil, packed tight together, and mixed in there adding color to the monochromatic flux are krakotl, tilfish, sulean, iftali, sivkit and even a seemingly very confused duerten.
And at the very core of the moving group are their vehicles, which gently start rolling forward again as the group starts moving. Lunek simply waits, silently, by the side of the road, his ears attentively swiveling from one side to the other, expression having given way to function. Before the first of the convoy even arrives close he turns to the side, making a pointing sign with his tail. A woman who had been watching from her yard flicks her right ear and runs back inside.
He continues to wait, scanning around at all times for the presence of… Anything. The street is empty of locals when the first visitors start to alight. The convoy is loud, their symbols carry a loudness of colors and their vehicles make as much noise as they can to draw attention, but those who walk seem content in allowing their tools to speak for them, for now. Lunek tries to make sense of the banners and signs, but the messages are disparate as the group- Some speak of injustices against their people, some speak of anger at invaders, some speak of betrayal.
“Fuck off, fireman!” comes the harsh bark of a human, causing Lunek to flinch. But flinch is all he does, he simply starts walking alongside the moving convoy.
The exterminator’s attention is drawn to the details of the few people he can distinguish amongst the mass. Something tickles at his pattern-recognition but he cannot quite ascertain what for a while, until a lightly limping mazic makes her way to the edge of the mass “Want to finish the job?!” she trumpets, her form towering over his.
“I’m just observing, ma’am.” Though the tremor of his voice is noticeable, he remains stoic. But her proximity makes him notice something about her body, marks in her wrists, neck and feet. Though mazic have powerful wrists and knuckles upon which they support the front half of their weight, her left wrist seems completely incapable of it, giving her a limp particular to a three-point walk. “To make sure there’s no impediment on your path” he notices the leathery skin around her left wrist is deeply blackened.
“Oh, ‘no impediment’ is that it? So everyone that lives here is an impediment?!” her voice booms.
“Ma’am” still, he does not yield nor does he break his pace following the convoy “We have not done anything other than inform our people of your presence…” for a half second all he hears is the sound of his own heart “We can’t do anything else.”
Those words, then, sealed his fate. The first shout to echo in his direction was a yotul howling “Yeah you’re useless!” and soon the avalanche came in multiple voices and languages “Can’t do shit!” “You’re just here to hurt people!” “Useless crap!” “Idiot!” and many more.
With every step and twitch the very average exterminator puts all of his focus on just being there. He lets himself cower a little bit, against the barrage it is difficult not to, but he continues to accompany. A few curious coats step out from their houses to watch, but the front of the convoy seems far too focused on the sole exterminator in view to bother anyone else.
A few steps ahead, an older venlil with a cane has moved the closest to the convoy as any watcher has up to now. Seeing her proximity to the increasingly rowdy crowd causes Lunek to speed up, quickly approaching her “Leva-”
But his words are stalled when she puts a paw on his shoulder, she gently puts her head against his for just a second “You’re doing good pup, keep at it” she mutters to him before breaking contact and turning around to walk back inside. He can spy her grandchildren looking on through the door. Lunek looks back at the still-shouting moving convoy, takes a deep breath, and continues to accompany them forward. A small pawful of them, however, seem to have fallen silent.
Once having reached the limit of his assigned zone, however, Lunek stops. He watches the convoy move forward, past the houses, now noisier than before. The initial hollering at him had turned into disjointed screams at some indistinct foe- Though the herd had been noticed of a foe, it was yet unaware of who, or what, said foe was. So for now it howled at the ineptitude of… Someone. And as the last of the convoy passes beyond the imaginary line of his duty, Lunek lets out a deep sigh and allows himself to sit down on the ground.
He stays there for a moment, without thought, simply letting the tension, confusion and fear permeate his body until a gentle paw touches his arm. He doesn’t need to look to identify it, he lets his lover use her strength to prop him up, raising him to his feet “Keina you shouldn’t-”
“Neighbor’s looking over Tiss” his wife wraps her arms and tail around him “I’m not leaving you alone.” she stays like that for a second, before breaking off “Do you need to go after them?”
“No”
Marik stalks through the sidewalk, moving with energy. His speed outpaces the movement of the convoy, his paws twitch to grasp at something that isn’t there and a deep and intense motion makes his short fur stand on end. He had let the convoy’s head move in front of him, simply standing still as he assessed as many as he could in the mass, and now he had begun to move towards the front again.
As he stalked forward he focused his sight on every member of the convoy that seemed of interest. A human whose clothes seemed suspiciously loose, a venlil whose movements were far too stiff, a gojid who kept his claws behind his back. He stared at each like they were his quarry, analyzing every piece of movement they made for threats, and yet aside from the challenge in the human’s gaze he saw no danger arise.
Tenve had closed his shop, so as the convoy moved forward Marik simply continued to follow along, scanning the crowd for threats. But the next point of interest arrives, and he rushes ahead placing himself in front of the only restaurant of the town. Sunbreeze Meals wasn’t a very common sort of restaurant, Blackriver did not have enough visitors for a normal restaurant to be profitable and was small enough most people had their meals at home, it most often served takeout for those farmers who’d spend so long in the field they would return home without the energy to feed themselves.
Sparing a look inside at the only five tables, Marik couldn’t keep a small thought away from his mind. How most who got their meals from Sunbreeze these days did so because they enjoyed the cooking rather than their need of work, ever since the sunspeck population has been brought under control and the maintenance of the fields had become much smaller. He feels the presence long before he can recognize what led him to feel it and turns to stare at a group of six that approach the entrance: Two humans, a tilfish, two gojids and a takkan had broken off from the convoy and approached the restaurant.
He traces his color band over each in turn, and they all bristle at his stare. One of the humans hesitates before continuing to walk inside, and Marik simply remains by the door with his arms crossed, left ear twisted as far back as he could to listen to the inside.
“What have you got here?”
“W-we mostly ha-have ready ma-made meals to go or- or- Or you can look over the menu”
“There’s no need to stutter, y’know”
“So-sorry-”
“Really, after everything y’all are still with this predator crap?”
The chimes on the door echo for the second time in sequence as Marik makes his way inside. The tilfish had started to lean over the counter while the other five had arrayed themselves behind her. They all turn their attention to him as he enters, including the venlil manning the counter. Marik keeps his gaze directly on the tilfish for a few uncomfortable seconds, before looking at the man behind the counter and making a simple sign with his tail, a short vertical bob with the tip and a slow horizontal swipe. It’s meaning simple: >Safe<.
After a few seconds someone else appears from the kitchen. The tall venlil carries a large stack of plastic boxes in his arms, all of them seemingly designed to attach to themselves so as to be carried with ease. He puts them down with a resounding crash on the counter, and opens up his voice with ice “Farmer’s Pots, good meal when you’re working and can’t go home.” With each word the owner of the restaurant and main cook comes closer and closer to the tilfish, until the last “Ten credits each.”
Nobody moves for a couple of seconds, and then one of the humans steps closer and brings a holopad over to the credit reader. There’s a noise indicating payment, and then the owner raises his head and tilts it to focus his favored eye and both of his ears at the man who paid “Now,” he shifts register in his voice and the language he speaks in “fuck off” he finishes.
With no small amount of surprise the group of six retrieve the stack of packaged meals, carefully walking out and back into the convoy. Marik stays behind for a moment “Didn’t know you spoke human”
“Pup’s enamored with their languages. Of course, first greek words he learns is swearing.”
Outside, Marik stalks further ahead to the next point of interest. He moves faster than the convoy, and has time to move in front of it. For a few meters the street is still clear as he arrives to find a group of people standing in front of the Watchful. Standing there were all of its employees, and even all of its regulars, twenty people total standing there as if they were having the most normal day. If not for their raised ears tracking every noise coming from down the street and their swaying tails swinging about like angry beasts.
One of them simply points his tail at the other side of the street as Marik comes closer, and the hunter doesn’t need a second command to understand the meaning. They have this, he has a less practical but just as important duty. He crosses the street quickly before the convoy starts coming closer, and heads towards the park.
As the regulars of the Watchful had feared, it took little time until a large group had broken off from the convoy. With the town on alert about the convoy they had found themselves bereft of prey and now this group had set out to find some, anyone who might be willing, or not, to listen to their grievances. And what is clearly a place designed for people to congregate looked most appetizing.
Marik shadowed the group as they moved through the park, but they were accompanied by nothing but silence. It wasn’t until they ran into the centerpiece of the park that he took initiative, stepping ahead of the group and simply… Standing there a distance away from the tree of many scions, between it and the group.
“What’s so important over there, fireman?” it was a venlil who asked, but his usage of an english word was not lost on Marik.
“A place you will respect” the exterminator has his arms crossed, the one good portion of his gaze set on the man who asked “This is a grave.”
Though the group that now prowled was large, those who heard were taken aback. One such, however, approaches closer. He was a venlil whose fur shifted between a soft, brownish color and a dirty white “A tradition of the tenets right? One of those family trees?” The man would have been distinctive in any other group due to his missing patches of fur around neck, wrists, even portions around his head. But such signs of long term damage were common in the convoy.
Interest. They had shown true interest, or at least one of them had. “No, but similar… The forgotten tree is a grave for the forgotten.” He felt like these people, at least the ones before him, could probably understand the meaning of this place “It is of no tradition. Someone, a long time ago, wanted to honor someone who was gone but whose name was not meant to be remembered. Someone who had disappeared in the system… So they borrowed on another’s tradition, and added a scion to this tree, with something in their memory. Others have done so similarly, until it became… A grave for the forgotten”
“Didn’t think you’d be worried about this kind of place” it’s a human that speaks up this time
“Our duty is to protect this town, what you think-” but Marik’s words are interrupted by that same venlil who had asked before. His demeanor suddenly shifts, his ears perk up and his entire body shifts forward for a moment. He hesitates, for a second everyone’s focus is on him, and then he runs towards the tree.
Marik follows behind, stopping just by the man’s side as he finds himself at the base of the tree. The man makes a direct line to somewhere, something he had found from the distance, as if it had called him. He finds a thick and heavy branch that had been bent down by the weight of its scions and memories, near its base and speaking of a memory left behind long ago is a braid of fur made of three colors, a dirty white, a soft brown and a dark grey, bound by the braids are two beads.
The man raises up a paw, but does not touch it. As if cradling it, he recites the words engraved in one of the beads “I will cross every star to return home” others have come closer to listen to the man’s hoarse voice “There will always be a home for you” he reads of the second one. The names on the beads have been scratched out. The man falls on his knees “S-she kept her promise and… I couldn’t keep mine…”
Marik steps back as he watches two others come closer to comfort the man. He looks as a few others approach with more caution, looking up at the tree with a bit more reverence than they had before. Then, he turns around and starts heading back towards the main street.
Gazing out as the convoy gains a new flux, some leave it as it passes to move towards the park while others leave the park to rejoin the convoy, Marik simply stays there at the side of the street looking as stern as he could. Though the noise of the convoy remains great, here in this portion it seems to die down a little. A thought crosses his mind as he turns an ear as far back as he can, a thought he can’t help but voice “I wonder how many are looking at their own graves…”
As the convoy progresses, Santos simply stands by the front of the precinct, hands in his pockets. He watches the convoy arrive, heart beating fast, constrained hands the only reason he hasn't started shaking quite yet. He starts tapping his right foot as he watches the first few people cross by without noticing what this place is yet, everyone knows where the precinct is, so aside from the words printed on the sign by the entrance there is no other marker of what this building’s purpose might be.
Of course, it is impossible for nobody to notice. The entire convoy seems to stop as soon as a zurulian riding on the shoulders of a human points a claw at the building and says something. A large group breaks away at the command, all of them holding disparate signs and messages. They turn on the building with enough roars that whatever they are attempting to transmit is lost on him.
Santos is thankful his hearing isn’t nearly as good as his coworkers’, as the cacophony is already overwhelming him. He changes stances slightly, taking his hands out of his pockets and crossing his arms. This prompts a small group to turn their looks at him, the focus easily identifiable with the humans in their midst, focus which made the hair in the back of Santos’ neck stand on end. Living in this place had refined his sense of danger, but he didn’t need that to realize what could happen.
It was a group of five that approached, four humans and a venlil. “Didn’t think they’d be letting humans live out here in the boonies” said one of his kin.
Santos just shrugs “Got hired to work here. Honestly, rural folk get a needlessly bad reputation, most of the time they just don’t care as long as you’re not bothering them”
“Really? In my-”
Santos interrupts the man “Cut it out” there are many ways in which humans make themselves obvious, many of which are their eyes. Santos did understand the fear of them and why it was primal, it was not the fear of the eyes but the fear of attention, it was knowing you were under the scrutiny and judgment of another that set off that emotion. It was rarely the eyes that showed this attention for most species, but for humans it was, and the man’s clear gaze on his badge made the entire situation clear to him “Stop beating around the bush and say it already.”
Someone else is who speaks. The tall woman starts not with words, however, but by spitting on Santos’ uniform “You fucking traitor” her voice is both fierce and cold at the same time. A very emotional coldness.
“There we go” he sighs “Just… Move on. We’re not getting anything out of this conversation”
“Why?” It was the venlil in the group that started this time “These people hate you, they hate you for what you are! Why do you work for them?!”
Santos rubs his eyes and sighs “Because someone has to. Change only happens when you make it happen, simple as that”
“Change?!” another one of the humans howls “Do you think those people can change?! You know the truth, those fuckers have never done anything good!”
“You know, if you had read your history books…” Santos stares at the one who had just had their outburst “You’d remember that we once thought the very same about the police” there’s the sound of glass breaking, but he doesn’t reaction “And a lot of us still do”
The human staring him down shifts their gaze slightly at the broken window of the precinct, then back at Santos “A broken window is easy to fix” he shrugs “As I was saying. Same shit.” he crosses his arms again “There’s a role those people play, a role that needs to be played because it’s important. Different name, different problems, still the same shit. Gotta fix this, I’m doing my part” he then stares at the venlil in the group “You do yours. Simple as that.”
“Role?!” the venlil of the group steps closer “What role could they possibly have?! They only exist to hurt people!”
Santos steps back, and raises his eyes a little bit. Of course, the classics had shown themselves in this instance. With as many humans as there are in the crowd there were now quite a few objects in the air, most clearly aimed at the precinct behind him. Though given the failed arc of some of them it was clearly not just the humans indulging in such a tried and true method.
“I used to be a wildlife preserve ranger” Santos then focuses his gaze on the aggravated venlil “This is a frontier town, if you walk in the brushes with shorts you’ll walk out with your ankles numb. The athai out there are rather harmless, but they keep the sunspecks under control.” He takes another step back “Since coming here I’ve been pest control, had to catch an exotic animal set loose, investigated a murder, helped stop a child from taking her own life, stopped large scale fights, helped a dozen people avoid being arrested for self defense and helped break a fucking siege”
Santos cracks his knuckles “There’s roles. Jobs that need done and there is one fucking organization doing it all. That is a problem.” Then, he sighs and takes a few more steps to the side, offering indifference from this point on “There’s nothing I can say that would make you calm down.” he says one final time “Just make sure not to injure yourselves in the process, alright?” His words seemed to be enough to make the small group cease trying to interact, as the convoy had begun moving again. Though the one human who had called him a traitor gets one final parting shot at the precinct “Where the hell did you get an egg in this planet…” Santos says with a raised eyebrow as the projectile impacts the front door.
Keya stands by a large sign, the same one that welcomes you into Blackriver on one side and sees you out at the other, the official limit of the town. Her arms behind her back, her attention directly towards the front of the convoy as they march. Something gains the whole of her attention, the car in the front. Someone draws her focus, a human with a megaphone on top of the car. The man shouts words of encouragement at the people behind him with the megaphone before turning to his holopad, then he bends over downwards to discuss something with the driver.
She simply remains there, waiting for the convoy to pass. But instead of moving on out of the city, here the convoy stops completely. Keya observes as the further end of the convoy starts to slowly compact upon itself, and her ears pick up something “Alright everyone, start getting ready, next town over is more than a claw away, make sure you’ve left nothing behind” the words were not meant for her, nor for anyone too far. They come from the same man she had seen standing on top of the car, but he had now climbed down and was talking with a group of multiple species.
It is clear they have some degree of leadership, though the convoy does not stop cleanly nor does it begin to organize with alacrity they do respond to the group’s organization. So Keya keeps her focus on them as they point, wave and talk between themselves, others and devices. But at least one of them has noticed her attention, a gangly and light-skinned human with fire-red hair, the man that was atop the car. He starts walking in her direction, before turning around for one final set of commands as he walks backwards “And make sure the guys at the back got all the crap! We’re here to be heard, not to trash the city!” he says before turning back again to head towards her. A venlil with pure white fur erupts from inside the car he was riding, quickly dashing to his side as they notice where he was going.
In a few moments both have come up to her, the human looking down at her with the venlil bristles at his side “Saw anything interesting, fireman?”
“What are you doing here?”
“What? Isn’t it obvious?!” it was the venlil that roared a response “You saw all of it! You know what they’ve done to us! What they’ve done to everyone! And you still work for those brahking monsters! It’s like you’re thankful they made you a cripple!”
The human puts a hand on the venlil’s shoulder, calming her demeanor just a little bit “We’re here because honestly, we’re all too tired of being fucking ignored is what. So what the fuck are you gonna do?!”
“I have put the wrong emphasis” Keya says with her lack of tone. She can see the human shiver just a little bit “My task is to ensure the safety of this town. Your convoy is a danger. We have eight field-capable officers, we cannot ensure the safety of the residents against a group like yours. People will take actions for reasons, you have broadcast your reasons clearly. You have chosen this place for a reason which I cannot ascertain.”
She makes sure her ears are trained towards both the human and the venlil, an action which causes the venlil to cower behind her partner “We do not house government agencies. This is a farming town of little note. The local precinct is a simple precinct, we have no regulatory or command authority. The town population is approximately double that of the number of your convoy. We have no individuals of appreciable social or political reach. There is nothing in Blackriver of interest to people attempting to change government policy, nor have there been actions taken here that I can identify as being cause for retaliatory actions within the context of your message.”
“I must ensure this does not happen again and the only way of doing so is minimizing our attractivity as targets. A logical assumption of your choice of quarry would be a town with the presence of politicians, a large city with constant news coverage, cities housing important government agencies or those containing the Regional Firebases”
“So I ask again. What are you doing here?”
The two remain silent for a few seconds, before the human turns around with a mouth noise “Whatever, I don’t need to explain myself to someone that won’t listen. Come on!” he starts to stalk back towards the car, but stops once he notices his venlil companion wasn’t moving.
The snow-white venlil has their focus on Keya, who offers a simple low forward swipe of her tail, a sign to proceed. Still, the venlil seems frozen in place until the human comes back and grabs hold of their paw with a gentle touch. At which point both finally return to the convoy.
Keya remains at the side of the road, watching as the convoy readies itself again to leave. People get back inside cars, they hop on the back of trucks and load themselves into buses. She continues to watch as the convoy takes its time riding out, making their way out of the town.
Once it is finally gone, multiple footsteps sound behind her. When she turns around she meets her officers, having returned from their assigned positions “They have left. I expect your reports of what happened in each sector by the end of your shifts” she states plainly, before looking at Santos “They did not appear to have a specific reason for targeting Blackriver.” The question remains unspoken.
The human officer just shrugs “Sometimes, you don’t know what you’re doing. We’re just a little town, I doubt they even know what exactly they’re angry about.” He looks at the tail end of the convoy as it leaves “Town was probably just a place they felt safe going to.”
“D-do you think we might get more like that” Lunek says, at the back of the group.
“Who knows…” Santos sighs “But if human history applies anywhere here… This is just a sign of worse things to come”
[ [FIRST] [NEXT>]
And thus the omen passes by. Feelings, emotions of all sorts, without a plan or a reason other than just their own rage and distress.
Did any of these even know what they were doing? And how much worse can it be when they do?

[First] [Previous] [Next]
When I wake up the next day, my head is swirling with questions. As I get up from my bed and go to clean myself, I can’t help but question everything! Did last night actually happen? I am pretty sure it did, but it all felt so bizarre… and wonderful! There’s a planetarium in the city, and it is magical in the most literal sense of the word! There are books on magic there, too! So I can probably start studying and learning more next time I visit!

Speaking of books… I have something to check there, don’t I?

As soon as I am out of the bathroom I go to the living room to get my pills and then, I start passing the pages of Humiko’s book. As I reach the ‘Epilogue’ section, I confirm to my horror that the words have completely disappeared.

In a panic, fearing the worst, I check my notes… oh, good, those were still here.

“What, were you fearing they would simply disappear too? Idiot.”

“Hey, with magic we really know nothing. It could have happened!”

I do feel a little silly but, yeah. For all we know, it could have happened. The point is that it didn’t!

Breathing way easier now, I sit down on one of the couches and sigh. Picking up my phone, I can confirm that it's Friday and it’s already eleven past noon. I guess this time I am justified in sleeping so much? But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Because you’re being lazy, even with your free time.”

With another deep sigh, I try to ignore the voices and just look straight up at the ceiling, tapping my chin for a moment.

How do we proceed from here?

Pelafina said I shouldn’t visit the Elysium early, because it gets full of people. I wonder how true that is… actually, I wonder how true anything she said was.

“Since when are you this distrustful?”

I don’t know. I don’t even know why I lied to her in the first place, but I just felt that this phrase, the one long complete phrase I managed to translate, is far more important than I know. I can’t share it… I actually don’t want to share anything with this lady?

“She will probably send the Cloaks if you stop cooperating though.”

That much I know, and I hate it. She has all the control over the situation!

“There’s one thing she can’t control though. She has no idea about your internet activity now, does she?”

… Good point. I have to focus on that!

I actually have to get back to GalaxyTaco, too! See what he's been doing and all that!

“But before all that, breakfast.”

Ah, right. Almost forgot… although, wouldn’t it be better to just ask for lunch at this point?

“Fair.”

Yes! Time for a burger.

“They feel blander and blander every time you buy one. Why even bother?”

Because they are still delicious, and more importantly, they are cheap and fast!

I quickly order a special Bisontian burger, with extra cheese of course, and then sit back down at the table, connecting my computer to the TER and tapping away a message at GalaxyTaco, to let them know I am up. Then, I write down my discoveries in the file I’m keeping. I’ll transcribe them to the notepad later.

I am adding the symbols (which I’ve learned are called Runes after a visit to the Elysium), meanings and effects I’ve learned. I’ve also learned that I can create Glyphs, which are combinations of Runes to create different effects. I wonder if they are phrases in the language!

Speaking of. They don’t even know it’s a language, they just seem to assume the symbols have effects and that’s it! Maybe they use it, but they haven’t fully grasped the implications yet.

That feels surprisingly shallow though. Just how much knowledge do these people have of magic? Is magic a recent discovery?

Or is there something else keeping people ignorant…?

The burger arrives not too long after I am done writing. I eat it while ruminating on the subject a bit further. They are not idiots, are they? To me, the first thing that comes to my mind when seeing symbols if they are part of a bigger language or something like that. Then again, maybe the lack of translation dissuaded them from experimenting further?

Stuff is not fitting as nicely as I wish…

I am about to write a little more when suddenly, I am added to a group in my messenger service. GalaxyTaco is alive! But not only them! There’s two other people in the conversation too.

Panic ensues, at least for a moment.

“Okay. Just keep calm.” I tell to myself. “Take a deep breath… phew… and let’s do this.”

My fingers are preparing to write some quick and tasteless introduction, when suddenly someone beats me to the punch.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: HIIIIIII!! ^0^!!

Oh no. A weeb, and a very strong one at that. I can feel her aura, her reiatsu, pushing down on me like a wave of augmented gravity. There are two chances here: I either get along real well with this person, or we hate each other on sight. There’s no middle ground among us.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: don’t be shy! :3 we’re friends here, I swear!

Well they are being real nice at least. Could be worse, they could be souseiseki.

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yo, you there?

Who the hell are these people!? I assume they are friends of GalaxyTaco, right? I really want to be patient but, damn it, new people get me nervous so easily…

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Hi there, hi! n.nUu sorry, this whole deal took me by surprise.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ohhhh it is fine! uwu gal-kun told us everything!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you must be so scared Dx I know I was when I got started!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Well it has certainly been a journey, heheh n.n but I’ve managed.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I found the Elysium last night so, at least there’s that!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good job, that’s a big advancement actually
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): next you gotta find the clinic, though
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: There’s a clinic too? O.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): yep. but we’ll explain all that later
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i’m canny btw. cannedtea at the forum, remember me?

My face burns a little bit when remembering this guy. I wasn’t expecting to find him again so quickly.

“Gay.”

Shut up.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: the name’s Aoi! ^0^/ UwU28 at the forum!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry I didn’t comment your topic, i am a bit shy xwxUu
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: It’s all fine, no worries n.n I’m Tav! But you two probably know that already
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it bears repeating, girl. it bears repeating.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah! ^^/
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright I’m back! sorry I was seeing grandma to bed heheh

I sigh in relief, cleaning the sweat off my brow. Thanks saints, this was going to be a little too much for me to handle alone!

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: oh hey gal-kun ~
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: reading up I see you’re all introduced, good good!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: now I just gotta introduce the plan to you Tav, so pay attention!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: I’m ready! o.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: alright, so
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: to avoid 82’s wrath?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: canny here will be your voucher.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: huh?
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: just put him in your profile and he’ll cover for you.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: And you’re okay with that, Canny? ;w; really!?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): eyeup, don’t worry girl. I gotchu.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: canny-kun and mort-sama covered for me when I just got in too :3 he’s the best!

For a moment I blink. Huh? Covered for Aoi? Does that mean they are also a Bastard Mage? What does that mean? Did they just find the link somewhere, too?

Questions for later, I guess.

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you so much Canny! ;w;
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): no prob bob
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): is it chill if I add you? you seem cool
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah, of course! :3 Add away! You too, Aoi-chan.
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: EEEEE! Arigatou!! ^w^ <3 <3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: oh yeah that reminds me.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi, ain’t you forgetting something?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: ah right!!! Tavy! what are your pronouns? o.o!

What?

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: you put you’d rather not say your gender and that’s so cool! I wanna know what to call you though! uwu
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: if that’s okay of course ^.^
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: Aoi that is NOT what I meant damn it!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): nono, she’s right.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): sorry i kept callin you girl
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: not you too canny… focus!

I have never been asked that before… I mean, I have, by computers. But by people, it feels… odd.

I like it.

“You’re going to start with your delusions again?”

“They can identify as anything. Stop being so harsh!”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … I think I will go with she/her.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Is that okay? n.n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): girl, don’t ask US
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): ask yourself
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not the mean voice of anxiety, not the shit your guardians told ya
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): are YOU okay with it?

I feel the words pierce my chest for a moment. I gasp for air, my eyes opening a little more.

“This is all just play pretend. Don’t take it so much to heart.”

Shut up.

“What!?”

I said shut up. This time, this is for me. I decide this.

“You little ungrateful asshole…”

I want this. This makes me feel good and I will seize it. And you can go kiss my ass, you hear me!?

“...”

xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: … Yeah. Yeah, I think I am okay with it n//n
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): atta girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): it’s chill to call you a girl right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah yeah, I like it! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yayayay Tavy-chan! :3
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: huh. that’s unexpectedly wholesome…
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: but let’s focus! Aoi! do you have the book?
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: right here boss! o.o7

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!! has sent you bastard_recipe_book.pdf
Accept?

Huh? A pdf? I hesitate for a moment but, hell, maybe it’s magic and magic can’t get viruses or something. I just click it.

ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: this is the rulebook for us Bastards, don’t tell nobody about it though OoO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: it’s a seecret~
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: A secret book… now that’s cool uwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): man, tav’s first secret
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): granny get the camera
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: lol
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: no but really, read it, study it well
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: it’s all vital.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: will do! I’ll print it and get to it right now
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: NO!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: TAVY-CHAN WAIT
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): wait a sec tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Huh? O.o
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: don’t print that one!
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: yeah you can’t print magic books, it’s risky
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the runes can activate and shit would go boom
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Oh, okay o.o
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Man I hate reading on the computer! ;w;
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: sorry tavy-chan ;w;!! but that’s the only way!
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: yeah… anyways, I gotta go to bed, real badly.
GalaxyTaco to your rescue!: I trust you got it from here right?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yep! n.n
ケンジー・イズ・マイ・ワイフ!!!: byeeee everyone!! uwu see you in dejima!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see you around

I sigh and slowly lean back on my chair. That was intense, way too intense… but I am smiling. Really, this is some proper progress! I finally have tools to work on my own! Maybe I can even translate some more after learning magic!

“Are you sure that’s all you’re happy about?~”

… Shut up. Don’t look too deep into the whole ‘pronoun’ thing.

I am opening the file I got when, suddenly, another message hits me.

It’s from Canny!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): hey tav
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): if you don’t wanna read it on computer you can get it physical.

Whuh?

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you said you found an elysium, was it in a library?
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yeah! o.o
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): thought so
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): look through the mundane part of the library, specifically in the section where you get cooking recipes
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): see if you can find a cheap notebook that says ‘MAGIC’ in it.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): open it, say ‘jantar mantar’ to it, and that’s your ticket.

My eyes light up. A secret book, hidden under the cloak’s noses like that? That’s perfect!

man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): the book’s written in draconic, which basically means only mages can read the real shit and you can’t destroy it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait what? O.o Draconic? Are dragons a thing here?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): not anymore they ain’t
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Aww :c
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Wait,I can’t destroy it? O.o No matter how much I try?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): i mean, you can, but it won’t do nothin
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ok! n.n but hey I don’t know Draconic D:!
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): don’t worry about it girlie
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yay! n.n I will go get it then
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): get some other books too, in case you’re being tailed.
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck tav
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Thank you Canny!
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah! I will be on my phone so don’t send me magic stuff for a while, okay?
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): gonna teach you the glyph for your phone later.
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Yipee!! n.n
xXxCallMeBigCookiexXx: Ah hell, sorry for that úwu
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): you’re fine girl
man don’t you lecture me with your $30 haircut 8): good luck.

I feel motivated, so motivated that I stand up immediately, close my computer, and finish my hamburger on the spot.

“Going out again!? Hah.”

I am running out of mean things to say, that’s a good sign.

“Don’t count on it.”

“You are doing great. Let’s go! The day’s young and we have notes to take!”

Yes! I don’t even notice the door in my way this time! I just go out and hop my way over to the elevator.

To the library! Again!