Free dissection gamessx
Dragon World
2011.03.22 00:03 Dragon World
A subreddit for the entire Dragon Ball franchise. discord.gg/dbz
2016.01.13 17:46 For the Dead
2022.01.07 00:53 KnowledgeTransfer
Knowledge Transfer is a group dedicated to the discussion, dissection, and exchange of tactics, techniques, and procedures for Military, Law Enforcement, and Civilians! Anyone is free to join, ask questions, make informative posts, and promote positive conversations! Please remember, we are on the inter webs, and not everything needs to be made available. We ask that you take OPSEC and individual/organizational privacy into account when posting.
2024.05.21 02:48 icecreamraider The Realities of War (let's kill some sacred cows)
Having seen many cringeworthy “analysis” from various armchair warriors dissecting IDF’s actions (usually ending with a backlink to their idea of “poof” of Israel’s “war crimes”), I figured I’d offer a more detailed perspective on things from someone more familiar with the topic than an average redditor.
This started as a response to a comment “what would you do different with unlimited budget” but then grew beyond a simple response – hence I’m making it into a couple lengthy posts.
I’m going to break it into two parts:
1. General perspective on urban war, what it’s like, and things to keep in mind when analyzing reports from the ground (Today).
2. More technical thoughts on urban combat, analysis of IDF’s operation, etc. (that I’ll probably do tomorrow)
About me: 10 years military (U.S.), intimately familiar with urban battlefield. Ethnically I’m part Moroccan, Bedouin, Jewish, and Finish. Born in USSR of all places. Immigrated to the US as a teenager. Third-generation military (the first two were in Soviet forces). Lots of formerly professional (and now, personal) interest and experience with all relevant aspects of this topic. Curious student of history – especially of the military variety.
Also of relevance – I’m an atheist, though baptized as Christian… but the only religion practiced in my family is Islam (about a quarter of my family is Muslim). I love my Muslim family members. I have no problem with "normal" Muslims or Arabs (as I’m part one myself). But I really, really f-ing hate Islamists and wish each one of them a slow, painful death – as soon as possible. Their ideology is the most insidious form of evil I’ve ever encountered personally. And it’s incompatible with modern civilization.
Ok… part one.
The realities of War (killing sacred cows)
3. Why this matters.
(a). The reasons one goes to war are critically important. Because war is fun – it’s stupid easy to enlist young men full of testosterone to fight. Most young men feel invincible until they aren’t – and by that point, bullets are already flying.
(b.) Hence, drawing moral equivalence between a side that responds to violence and the side that deliberately provokes violence is absurd. As the saying goes – old men start wars and young men die in them. These “old men” already know what war entails. Thus, provoking a war is a far more insidious act than reacting to it… all other circumstances being equal.
4. Side note (a personal theory of mine) – the energy of war begins with a lot of testosterone (until it takes on its own velocity). Which leads to a personal observation – societies where young men get laid, typically fight a lot less wars. Islamist ideologies are breeding grounds for wannabe jihadis. Primarily, due to the ideology itself. But also, by prohibiting the mating energy of young men and channeling it into rage and violence instead. If you think can change my opinion on it – feel free.
5. War is absurd. Each day consists of hours of boredom followed by minutes of terror and exhilaration. It’s a bipolar environment. The whole thing is absurd. And when you stumble upon trivial, idiotic things following hours of combat – the only way to stay sane is to embrace dark humor and laugh at things you’d never laugh at in normal life.
(a). Imagine a scenario – you just survived an hour-long close-proximity firefight. An Apache finally swoops in and takes the roof off the building you were unable to suppress for the past 30 minutes. You move in to investigate – stepping over dead bodies, trying not to slip on blood, cracking stupid jokes because you’re still terrified. You walk into a child’s bedroom and see spent shell casings, dead bodies, weapons, a copy of Quaran among children’s toys on the floor. You make your way through the house trying to ID who it belonged to, etc. You start opening drawers and what-dya-know – red, sexy lingerie of the former lady of the house. The ONLY sane reaction to this absurdity is uncontrollable laughter. Grown men will put the bra over their plate carrier, pose for pictures like idiots, etc.
(b). Is posting such pictures on social media a breach of discipline? Of course it is. But the idiotic joy of it – it’s a normal reaction. In fact, it’s a weirdly healthy reaction. People who post pictures of soldiers acting like idiots and claim them to be “proof” of some…idk… animal character of IDF soldiers are clueless. If you’re one of those – you have no idea what you’re talking about.
c. But I’ll tell you what I don’t see. I don’t see pictures of IDF dragging bodies of Hamas fighters and spitting on them. I don’t see pictures of IDF running behind detainees and yelling “Moses is Great”, etc. For those of you drawing moral equivalence between IDF behavior and that of Hamas – I’d like to congratulate you on being an idiot.
6. Controlled Violence.
(a). Fundamentally, the objective of a well-executed war is controlled violence in order to achieve political/strategic goals. How the violence actually plays out is very difficult to fully control. Therefore, INTENTIONS MATTER. A LOT.
i. A force intent on minimizing unnecessary casualties and failing is still far superior morally to a force intent on inflicting unnecessary casualties. IDF is the former. Hamas is the latter.
(b). ~Violence (once initiated) is extremely difficult to control~. That’s why a professional military (a real one) is much different in executing violence than a militia.
i. A militia (any militia) will inevitably escalate violence beyond necessary. The most “alpha” characters usually rise to the top. Often, via sheer brutality and fighting prowess. Human emotions (anger, revenge, pride) take over. And they’re difficult to control.
ii. A professional military operates by objectives and command structure. It will inevitably make errors and even commit war crimes – again, war is chaos that one never fully controls. However, “emotional” decisions rarely rise above tactical necessities. And conduct “unbecoming” is typically punished promptly by your own – because (almost) everyone understands the necessity of structure, rules, and strict moral code.
iii. Are there professional military units that end up committing crime deliberately or behaving in unbecoming manner? Of course – it only takes a few bad apples in key positions of command. But that’s rather an exception that proves the rule.
(c). ~Not all military units are made equal~. IDF, for instance, consists of some professional elements and a whole bunch of citizen soldiers. Everyone has a role to play. Some units are designated as more combat-focused than others. And even within designations, there is a hierarchy of combat readiness. It’s not always formal, but commanders have a good sense of it. Less combat-ready (even when combat-designated) units will usually be assigned more passive roles. “Better” units will be the ones moving forward and seeking contact with the enemy (provided that command has this luxury (i.e. enough options at their disposal).
i. IDF, however, has very few luxuries – it’s mostly citizen soldiers in a nation of only 8 million people. Their more “professional” units are world class – it really doesn’t get much better. But there aren’t a lot of them.
ii. IDF’s “citizen soldiers” are also quite good. Much better than any other conscripted military I’ve ever seen (and I happen to be intimately familiar with the Soviet and Russian militaries – once deemed the “scariest” conscripted forces).
7. War is Chaotic. Every unit will make mistakes. Through a combination of fear, fatigue, lack of clarity, and a very narrow “field of view” for each individual and most line units. That’s why things like Rules of Engagement, “Commander’s Intent”, etc. are critical. Yet, mistakes will happen. And the “citizen soldiers” will commit more errors than more “professional” units.
(a). The chaos is exacerbated by urban environment. In a city, each sub-element lives in its tiny “world” – at any given point, it’s rarely larger than a city block. When they hear gunfire – rarely do they have the context behind it unless they’re engaged in it. The information coming through is sparce and, often, it’s by design.
(b). Among this chaos and close proximity, these units operate in silos, trying to accomplish their objectives and not shoot each other while at it.
(c). Inevitably, someone gets jumpy – think of IDF shooting Israeli hostages a couple months back. Under the circumstances – I’m surprised things like that don’t happen more often. Truth is, most armchair generals who like to issue judgements on such things, would’ve been scared sh*tless themselves and probably would’ve pulled the trigger even quicker than the unfortunate idiot who killed those hostages.
8. The Soldier’s Field of View is very narrow. Rarely do you see the people shooting at you. Rarely do you know if you killed the person who was shooting at you or if someone else did. Rarely do you know that there are civilians somewhere in the house you’re taking fire from – usually you find bodies after the fact. Etc., etc. When you hear that a professional military unit killed a civilian in an active combat zone – if your first reaction is “they meant to do it” – congratulations again - you’re a clueless idiot.
9. The Islamist Enemy is Insidious. I can’t think of a more insidious enemy to fight than a bunch of Islamist lunatics with a plan, terrain knowledge, and very lose command structure. Every horror story you’ve heard about Hamas is true. How do I know? Because we’ve seen it all before. You don’t have to take IDF’s word for it – just ask any Amercian soldier who’ve seen sh*t in any other Islamist dumpster fire of a country. (Or any former Russian soldier who've fought in Chechnya or Afghanistan back in their day).
(a). Child rape – rampant
(b). Abuse of own population – daily. They’re straight-up thugs. Antisocial meatheads with a holy book, drunk on power, and convinced of their moral superiority.
(c). None of them can actually string together a coherent sentence explaining their grievances – but they can all recite a few sentences they heard from an imam… mostly some variation of “Americans are dogs” (they really f-ing hate dogs).
(d). Ultimately, it’s a death cult. But very few of them actually want to die. Most join militia groups because it’s what passes as “cool” in their neighborhood. Sure, they’ll yell something about Allah… but mostly it’s a “I belong to a group that has guns, and guns are fun” type thing.
(e). When push comes to shove – some of them will fight in a suicidal manner. But, when their leadership is dead and the group cohesion is broken – a surprising number will want to surrender. The whole “martyrdom” thing is just an obscure aspiration that many learn that they didn’t really mean it when they signed up for it.
(f). The truly ideological ones are a whole different type of evil. It’s a special kind of evil – one convinced of its own righteousness. They really do use civilians as human shields – especially children. Why children? Because kids are innocent – thus, by sacrificing a child, a truly lunatic Jihadi is doing them a favor… he’s sending them straight to paradise. It’s a shortcut, really. Wrap your head around that one and then imagine staring this evil, bearder, toothless f-ing monster in the face and watching him grin as he explains why he just shot up a building full of school girls. And then imagine what it takes not to drag this creature outside, douse him in fuel, and light a match.
So, these are some general thoughts on war for those unfamiliar. Tomorrow, I will post a more technical “play-by-play” breakdown on urban combat tomorrow, analysis of IDF actions, etc.
submitted by icecreamraider to IsraelPalestine [link] [comments]
This started as a response to a comment “what would you do different with unlimited budget” but then grew beyond a simple response – hence I’m making it into a couple lengthy posts.
I’m going to break it into two parts:
1. General perspective on urban war, what it’s like, and things to keep in mind when analyzing reports from the ground (Today).
2. More technical thoughts on urban combat, analysis of IDF’s operation, etc. (that I’ll probably do tomorrow)
About me: 10 years military (U.S.), intimately familiar with urban battlefield. Ethnically I’m part Moroccan, Bedouin, Jewish, and Finish. Born in USSR of all places. Immigrated to the US as a teenager. Third-generation military (the first two were in Soviet forces). Lots of formerly professional (and now, personal) interest and experience with all relevant aspects of this topic. Curious student of history – especially of the military variety.
Also of relevance – I’m an atheist, though baptized as Christian… but the only religion practiced in my family is Islam (about a quarter of my family is Muslim). I love my Muslim family members. I have no problem with "normal" Muslims or Arabs (as I’m part one myself). But I really, really f-ing hate Islamists and wish each one of them a slow, painful death – as soon as possible. Their ideology is the most insidious form of evil I’ve ever encountered personally. And it’s incompatible with modern civilization.
Ok… part one.
The realities of War (killing sacred cows)
- War is fun. There – I said it. It’s not fun if you’re the one getting your rear end kicked. But when you’re the one doing the kicking – truth is… it can be a lot of fun. It’s taboo to say, but it’s true.
3. Why this matters.
(a). The reasons one goes to war are critically important. Because war is fun – it’s stupid easy to enlist young men full of testosterone to fight. Most young men feel invincible until they aren’t – and by that point, bullets are already flying.
(b.) Hence, drawing moral equivalence between a side that responds to violence and the side that deliberately provokes violence is absurd. As the saying goes – old men start wars and young men die in them. These “old men” already know what war entails. Thus, provoking a war is a far more insidious act than reacting to it… all other circumstances being equal.
4. Side note (a personal theory of mine) – the energy of war begins with a lot of testosterone (until it takes on its own velocity). Which leads to a personal observation – societies where young men get laid, typically fight a lot less wars. Islamist ideologies are breeding grounds for wannabe jihadis. Primarily, due to the ideology itself. But also, by prohibiting the mating energy of young men and channeling it into rage and violence instead. If you think can change my opinion on it – feel free.
5. War is absurd. Each day consists of hours of boredom followed by minutes of terror and exhilaration. It’s a bipolar environment. The whole thing is absurd. And when you stumble upon trivial, idiotic things following hours of combat – the only way to stay sane is to embrace dark humor and laugh at things you’d never laugh at in normal life.
(a). Imagine a scenario – you just survived an hour-long close-proximity firefight. An Apache finally swoops in and takes the roof off the building you were unable to suppress for the past 30 minutes. You move in to investigate – stepping over dead bodies, trying not to slip on blood, cracking stupid jokes because you’re still terrified. You walk into a child’s bedroom and see spent shell casings, dead bodies, weapons, a copy of Quaran among children’s toys on the floor. You make your way through the house trying to ID who it belonged to, etc. You start opening drawers and what-dya-know – red, sexy lingerie of the former lady of the house. The ONLY sane reaction to this absurdity is uncontrollable laughter. Grown men will put the bra over their plate carrier, pose for pictures like idiots, etc.
(b). Is posting such pictures on social media a breach of discipline? Of course it is. But the idiotic joy of it – it’s a normal reaction. In fact, it’s a weirdly healthy reaction. People who post pictures of soldiers acting like idiots and claim them to be “proof” of some…idk… animal character of IDF soldiers are clueless. If you’re one of those – you have no idea what you’re talking about.
c. But I’ll tell you what I don’t see. I don’t see pictures of IDF dragging bodies of Hamas fighters and spitting on them. I don’t see pictures of IDF running behind detainees and yelling “Moses is Great”, etc. For those of you drawing moral equivalence between IDF behavior and that of Hamas – I’d like to congratulate you on being an idiot.
6. Controlled Violence.
(a). Fundamentally, the objective of a well-executed war is controlled violence in order to achieve political/strategic goals. How the violence actually plays out is very difficult to fully control. Therefore, INTENTIONS MATTER. A LOT.
i. A force intent on minimizing unnecessary casualties and failing is still far superior morally to a force intent on inflicting unnecessary casualties. IDF is the former. Hamas is the latter.
(b). ~Violence (once initiated) is extremely difficult to control~. That’s why a professional military (a real one) is much different in executing violence than a militia.
i. A militia (any militia) will inevitably escalate violence beyond necessary. The most “alpha” characters usually rise to the top. Often, via sheer brutality and fighting prowess. Human emotions (anger, revenge, pride) take over. And they’re difficult to control.
ii. A professional military operates by objectives and command structure. It will inevitably make errors and even commit war crimes – again, war is chaos that one never fully controls. However, “emotional” decisions rarely rise above tactical necessities. And conduct “unbecoming” is typically punished promptly by your own – because (almost) everyone understands the necessity of structure, rules, and strict moral code.
iii. Are there professional military units that end up committing crime deliberately or behaving in unbecoming manner? Of course – it only takes a few bad apples in key positions of command. But that’s rather an exception that proves the rule.
(c). ~Not all military units are made equal~. IDF, for instance, consists of some professional elements and a whole bunch of citizen soldiers. Everyone has a role to play. Some units are designated as more combat-focused than others. And even within designations, there is a hierarchy of combat readiness. It’s not always formal, but commanders have a good sense of it. Less combat-ready (even when combat-designated) units will usually be assigned more passive roles. “Better” units will be the ones moving forward and seeking contact with the enemy (provided that command has this luxury (i.e. enough options at their disposal).
i. IDF, however, has very few luxuries – it’s mostly citizen soldiers in a nation of only 8 million people. Their more “professional” units are world class – it really doesn’t get much better. But there aren’t a lot of them.
ii. IDF’s “citizen soldiers” are also quite good. Much better than any other conscripted military I’ve ever seen (and I happen to be intimately familiar with the Soviet and Russian militaries – once deemed the “scariest” conscripted forces).
7. War is Chaotic. Every unit will make mistakes. Through a combination of fear, fatigue, lack of clarity, and a very narrow “field of view” for each individual and most line units. That’s why things like Rules of Engagement, “Commander’s Intent”, etc. are critical. Yet, mistakes will happen. And the “citizen soldiers” will commit more errors than more “professional” units.
(a). The chaos is exacerbated by urban environment. In a city, each sub-element lives in its tiny “world” – at any given point, it’s rarely larger than a city block. When they hear gunfire – rarely do they have the context behind it unless they’re engaged in it. The information coming through is sparce and, often, it’s by design.
(b). Among this chaos and close proximity, these units operate in silos, trying to accomplish their objectives and not shoot each other while at it.
(c). Inevitably, someone gets jumpy – think of IDF shooting Israeli hostages a couple months back. Under the circumstances – I’m surprised things like that don’t happen more often. Truth is, most armchair generals who like to issue judgements on such things, would’ve been scared sh*tless themselves and probably would’ve pulled the trigger even quicker than the unfortunate idiot who killed those hostages.
8. The Soldier’s Field of View is very narrow. Rarely do you see the people shooting at you. Rarely do you know if you killed the person who was shooting at you or if someone else did. Rarely do you know that there are civilians somewhere in the house you’re taking fire from – usually you find bodies after the fact. Etc., etc. When you hear that a professional military unit killed a civilian in an active combat zone – if your first reaction is “they meant to do it” – congratulations again - you’re a clueless idiot.
9. The Islamist Enemy is Insidious. I can’t think of a more insidious enemy to fight than a bunch of Islamist lunatics with a plan, terrain knowledge, and very lose command structure. Every horror story you’ve heard about Hamas is true. How do I know? Because we’ve seen it all before. You don’t have to take IDF’s word for it – just ask any Amercian soldier who’ve seen sh*t in any other Islamist dumpster fire of a country. (Or any former Russian soldier who've fought in Chechnya or Afghanistan back in their day).
(a). Child rape – rampant
(b). Abuse of own population – daily. They’re straight-up thugs. Antisocial meatheads with a holy book, drunk on power, and convinced of their moral superiority.
(c). None of them can actually string together a coherent sentence explaining their grievances – but they can all recite a few sentences they heard from an imam… mostly some variation of “Americans are dogs” (they really f-ing hate dogs).
(d). Ultimately, it’s a death cult. But very few of them actually want to die. Most join militia groups because it’s what passes as “cool” in their neighborhood. Sure, they’ll yell something about Allah… but mostly it’s a “I belong to a group that has guns, and guns are fun” type thing.
(e). When push comes to shove – some of them will fight in a suicidal manner. But, when their leadership is dead and the group cohesion is broken – a surprising number will want to surrender. The whole “martyrdom” thing is just an obscure aspiration that many learn that they didn’t really mean it when they signed up for it.
(f). The truly ideological ones are a whole different type of evil. It’s a special kind of evil – one convinced of its own righteousness. They really do use civilians as human shields – especially children. Why children? Because kids are innocent – thus, by sacrificing a child, a truly lunatic Jihadi is doing them a favor… he’s sending them straight to paradise. It’s a shortcut, really. Wrap your head around that one and then imagine staring this evil, bearder, toothless f-ing monster in the face and watching him grin as he explains why he just shot up a building full of school girls. And then imagine what it takes not to drag this creature outside, douse him in fuel, and light a match.
So, these are some general thoughts on war for those unfamiliar. Tomorrow, I will post a more technical “play-by-play” breakdown on urban combat tomorrow, analysis of IDF actions, etc.
2024.05.20 22:32 No-Tour-798 Day 5 post op, Cholecystectomy, still have sharp right sided pain
Hi 25 M, 211 lbs, 5' 7", Omeprazole, ezitimibe, atorvastatin, hydrocodone-act, dicyclomine. Non smoke, previous biliary cholic due to chronic cholecystitis (confirmed by pathology) over last 6 months. Pathology came back as below:
PATHOLOGY CONSULTATION
Specimens A: GALLBLADDER
Clinical History Pre-op diagnosis: K80.20
Pathological Diagnoses GALLBLADDER; CHOLECYSTECTOMY:
Operative report came back as below:
Procedure:
Surgeon noted that my ducts were very narrow, could this be a stricture that is still causing my pain? How long should I reasonably expect to have the pain in my right side when I breathe in while in recovery? If it does not go away after a while, should I anticipate an ERCP/stent situation? Feedback much appreciated.
submitted by No-Tour-798 to AskDocs [link] [comments]
PATHOLOGY CONSULTATION
Specimens A: GALLBLADDER
Clinical History Pre-op diagnosis: K80.20
Pathological Diagnoses GALLBLADDER; CHOLECYSTECTOMY:
- Chronic cholecystitis.
- Benign cholesterol polyp.
- Negative for dysplasia and malignancy.
Operative report came back as below:
Procedure:
- Robotic assisted laparoscopic cholecystectomy
- Intra-operative cholangiogram
- Indocyanine green administration (Firefly)
Surgeon noted that my ducts were very narrow, could this be a stricture that is still causing my pain? How long should I reasonably expect to have the pain in my right side when I breathe in while in recovery? If it does not go away after a while, should I anticipate an ERCP/stent situation? Feedback much appreciated.
2024.05.20 15:58 primeauxknives Three Mini-Cleavers I Made Recently
 | AEBL Stainless Steel, Rippled Cherry Wood, Antique Bronze Ferrule submitted by primeauxknives to knifeclub [link] [comments] VG10 Damascus Steel, 5,000-Year-Old Bog Oak, Antique Bronze Ferrule https://preview.redd.it/rakbb2na8l1d1.jpg?width=3198&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=20054df74571b787bf1e1224525f4c0df1ce06e7 These are three mini-cleavers that have been a hit with customers because of how fun and versatile they are to use. Hey everyone, I'm JP, and I craft kitchen knives under the name Phillips Forged and Primeaux. My latest creation, Primeaux, recently marked its 2 year anniversary as a business. Lately, my wife has been managing my online presence here on Reddit due to my busy schedule, but I wanted to take a moment to join in and share some insights about my knives. I've been honing my knife-making skills for 11 years. Initially, I ran a concrete business specializing in faux finishing and bar countertops. I was also a luthier and made guitars, banjos and instrument restoration. I guess I'd call myself a full-time craftsman. My college studies in sculpture sparked my fascination with crafting a knife that felt as unique as a hand-thrown mug, but I didn't know where to begin. I started by dissecting antique knives from E-Bay to understand their construction, and despite numerous failures, I persevered. My first forge was crafted from a humble coffee can. Fast forward to 2019, I gained the title of Forged in Fire Champion (Season 6 Episode 20), and during the pandemic, I experienced a surge in orders as more people turned to home cooking. I work with various steels, my own Damascus, stainless AEBL, VG10, Damasteel and Chad Nichols Damascus, and while my background primarily features custom pieces, my wife and I have embarked on establishing a new knife company focused on producing timeless, comfortable, beautiful, and intriguing pieces. We'll be showcasing our work for the first time ever at Blade Show Atlanta from June 7-9 at Booth #26N, and I'm excited to host a daily raffle for a chance to win a knife, along with offering free beers during happy hour. Additionally, I'm more than happy to address any questions about entering the world of knife-making, as I am entirely self-taught! |
2024.05.20 14:46 DiscountFinancial327 Finally am able to safely navigate to the Fe dom world.
I just passed my quarter life phase and I made sure I dissected my own busted box of Fi feels.
Transitioning to having the world inside your head to actually living in the world is a freeing experience.
I'm less sensitive to constructive criticism that I've always misinterpreted from the feelers and I have become healthier because I finally let my guard down.
I hope you could experience what I am experiencing.
submitted by DiscountFinancial327 to entj [link] [comments]
Transitioning to having the world inside your head to actually living in the world is a freeing experience.
I'm less sensitive to constructive criticism that I've always misinterpreted from the feelers and I have become healthier because I finally let my guard down.
I hope you could experience what I am experiencing.
2024.05.20 05:57 Determination7 An Outcast In Another World (Subtitle: Is 'Insanity' A Racial Trait?) [Fantasy, LitRPG] - Chapter 265 (Book 6 Chapter 50) (Part 1)
Author's Note:
7700 words, broke Reddit's character limit, so you know the drill. Will be split into two parts, both posted today. Enjoy!
--
"Stop! STOP!"
The terror in Kismet's voice rose higher as death drew nearer. He fled from Rob's grasping hand, but a Purge Divinity-infused fingernail managed to graze him, carving out a scoop of divine essence as if flaying a mortal's skin.
Kismet let out a screech as the Purging energy added to his growing collection of scars. A dozen small holes now dotted the surface of his mana-body, looking like he'd been pockmarked by wasting disease. Each wound represented a moment where the god had narrowly escaped with his life.
If those injuries had been inflicted by any other ability, then he could have rejuvenated himself in the time it took to blink. Purging energy was not so kind as that. It was purifying wrath in the shape of a Skill; their vengeance given form. Whatever divinity it touched, it extinguished.
As if cleansing the universe of a sickness that had infected it for far too long.
The BERSERKER continued his unrelenting advance. In response, Kismet threw up a frantic barrier of mana. It was strong enough to deflect one of Ragnavi's Annihilation beams–
And Rob blasted through it like paper mache. His charge sent broken shards of energy scattering across the divine realms. More mid-air rifts tore open, the HUMAN's aura strangling the surrounding area in a vice grip of power. Purge Divinity seemed to glow with light emanating straight from the pits of hell.
None of which was anywhere near as unnerving as the murder contained within his piercing gaze. When Kismet met Rob's eyes, he saw the end of eternity fast approaching.
The god's next barrier was just as frantic. However, this one was not comprised of mana, but of solid matter. Kismet summoned the hardest, most dense substance known to the mortal realms, then transmuted it into something that otherwise could only have been forged inside the heart of a dying star. It was many times more durable than the impossibly tough walls of an aberrant Dungeon.
So when Rob demolished it with a single punch, he actually had to put a bit of elbow grease into his windup.
Another wall materialized in front of him. He crushed it, then the one after, and the one after that, lashing out with bestial ferocity. The BERSERKER plowed through Kismet's hastily-built defenses like a bulldozer of fists and savagery. Rob was knocking them down as quickly as the god could make them, relishing the sensation of being able to vent his anger on targets that weren't fucking running away.
Then the twelfth wall fell – revealing a monstrous, spiky, fanged behemoth concealed behind.
Rob paused, momentarily taken aback at the sight of a mundane creature within the divine realms. 'Mundane' in relative terms, anyway. This monster was on par with a newborn Blight, radiating power that would have sent ordinary fighters sprinting for the hills.
It was also barely cognizant of its surroundings. The monster stared at him with unblinking, vacant eyes, just the tiniest glimmer of awareness present in its gaze. Rob noted that segments of its flesh were bubbling, as if the creature was fresh out of the oven and still needed to settle.
He couldn't help but feel a modicum of pity. This was yet another thoughtless creation, condemned to existence by an uncaring maker. Even monsters deserved better than that.
Rob caved the beast's head in before it could realize that it was alive. Pity was not the same as hesitation, and this was the only mercy he could afford to grant right now.
Didn't matter. Kismet's pawn served its purpose. In the brief instant that Rob spent getting over his initial surprise, the god had teleported to safety. He was already planning his next stunt that could buy him a few precious seconds of survival.
The HUMAN grimaced as he turned to give chase, unable to suppress the burgeoning sense of unease growing within his chest.
It almost didn't seem fair to feel that way. Rob knew he was winning – at least on the surface. Any outside observer would've bet their life savings on him, especially after the show of overwhelming superiority he'd just displayed. Kismet had been at a disadvantage before Never Forget Your Rage's recent upswing, and now it was no contest. Rob was confident that he would still be stronger even if the eight gods merged into one super-deity.
He also knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Whenever he moved, or activated a Skill, or even breathed...the sensation was there. Strength accompanied by incongruous frailty. Like background noise that kept getting louder with every action he took. His body felt close to pulling itself apart, as if his very molecules were a hairsbreadth away from coming undone.
It was different from Soul Instability. Whereas that threatened to collapse his soul, this frailty was an affliction of the flesh. The longer he fought, the more his physical form was at risk of popping like a balloon.
Such was the price of constraining godlike power within a mortal shell.
"Stay back!" Unaware of the turmoil fermenting in his assailant's mind, Kismet threw up his hands and...inverted...space? Rob didn't have a name for what he was seeing. Rather than stopping to puzzle out this latest brand of divine bullshit, he sent out a pulse of Purge Divinity, canceling whatever esoteric effect Kismet had been attempting to produce.
His Purging energy scraped against the divine realms like a cheese grater. Five rifts immediately tore open near both Rob and Kismet, with the god anxiously retreating from one that appeared just inches away from him. A low rumble echoed around them, and for a moment, they felt struck by an abrupt feeling of vertigo – until the realms gradually stabilized, righting once more.
For now.
Rob eyed the rifts with a detached, clinical gaze. An endless sea of mana resided behind them; the bedrock of the system itself. While he recognized that the rifts tearing open was bad news, he also couldn't really muster the energy to care. Between his overflowing rage, overtaxed body, and overburdened soul, minor details like the impending destruction of reality were hard to give much focus.
There was a way to fix all of that, of course. Rob couldn't outright deactivate Never Forget Your Rage – not without losing its bonus stats. But he could attempt to ease the storm of fury in his heart. By lessening his anger to more reasonable levels, Never Forget Your Rage would put less strain on both his body and the divine realms.
The notion forced a peal of hideous laughter to claw out of his throat. Lessen his anger? He'd have better luck trying to douse a volcano with a garden hose. No. For a wildfire that had grown this out of control, the only thing to do was stand aside and let it burn, burn, burn.
Until naught remained.
"I said stay back!" Kismet bellowed. He lifted his arms into the air. "Begone!" One moment later, Rob's vision was filled with scorching light. An apocalyptic geyser of mana burst forth from underfoot, intense and searing. It stripped the flesh from his bones in no time flat, powering through Almighty Resistance with pure, unmitigated violence.
And it still wasn't fast enough. Rob flickered a Purge Divinity shield for just an instant, allowing him to escape the geyser with his upper body – and most of his HP – intact. Lifesurge swiftly patched him up, leaving both combatants right back where they'd started.
Slowly, Kismet lowered his hands. They were shivering. "What are you?" he whispered. "Why are all my efforts in vain?"
To be honest, Rob was mildly impressed that Kismet had held on for this long. The god's combat efficacy was increasing as time passed, improving from panic-spamming teleports to more inventive maneuvers – as if he was learning how to fight on-the-job. He'd also stopped draining the other gods to supplement his power, having found an alternative source of fuel: mana seeping out from the sporadically-opening rifts.
It was the one silver lining to fighting an implacable BERSERKER so powerful that he fractured reality. Whenever Rob utilized Purge Divinity, more rifts opened up in the realms, and more mana leaked out from inside. The gods had invested that energy into the system millennia ago, and it typically would've been off-limits until they closed up shop and left Elatra. Kismet was making use of it now, absorbing the extra mana to strengthen himself, like a lifeline barely keeping him afloat.
The god's tenacity was...calling it 'admirable' would be going too far, but it did warrant a sort of begrudging respect. As someone who'd tangoed with multiple Blights, Rob knew what it was like to square off against a frenzied beast that could end him with a touch.
Being the scary one was a nice change of pace.
In exchange, Kismet had graciously donned the role of their battle's Combat Class user; fragile, outgunned, and pulling improvised maneuvers out of his ass for a chance at victory. The god could finally feel what it was like to be vulnerable. How exciting! Rob was more than happy to assist. Learning experiences such as these only came around once an eternity or so.
Flippancy aside – while Kismet still possessed room for improvement, this was the most that could be asked of a deity who hadn't seen combat in literal eons. His biggest fuckup had been taunting Rob in the wrong ways, but he couldn't have known about Never Forget Your Rage, that was an excusable oversight. By all other accounts, Kismet was performing adequately.
Even so...
"YoU aRE noTHinG."
The sound of Rob's voice caused two fresh rifts to open up. Kismet flinched, casting a teleportation spell out of pure reflex. Without pause, the HUMAN resumed his hunt.
Nothing. Perhaps that statement was hyperbole – yet it rang true nonetheless. While Kismet may have been a creature of supreme divinity, on the field of battle, his pedigree meant nothing. In the face of an implacable, unstoppable foe, his power was worth nothing. Very soon, he would be nothing, consigned to oblivion by Purging energy.
Rob couldn't help but unfavorably compare Kismet to the final Blight. Weren't these supposed to be two sides of the same coin? Each one-half of an original transcendent Will? Yet the Second Will had brought Rob to the edge of despair...and Kismet was fleeing like a cornered rodent. It was difficult to reconcile the two divinities as theoretical equals.
Although he knew that was an unfair comparison. Rob had fought the Blight before learning Limit Break and Never Forget Your Rage. Kismet wasn't weak.
The HUMAN was just far too strong.
If he rematched the Second Will today, he would beat it to death with his bare hands.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Kismet swept an arm out, gesturing towards some of the many rifts that Rob's presence was tearing open. "Do you understand what will transpire if you persist in this folly?! If the divine realms shatter, then so will all of Elatra! You are on the brink of destroying everything which you have striven to protect! Cease this–"
"CAN'T."
In a flash, Rob dashed forward and scooped out a chunk of the god's mana-body with Purge Divinity. Before he could do more, Kismet shrieked with pain and teleported away, leaving the BERSERKER to crush his prize between five clenched fingers.
"FoRCed mY HAnD." He located Kismet again. "NO GOING BACK."
Stopping wasn't an option. If the divine realms crumbled and Elatra imploded...well, that would be a faster end than what the gods had in store for its people. At least this way their deaths would be quick and hopefully painless – and his friends wouldn't be turned into Skills tortured for all eternity.
Still, Kismet did have a point. Destroying reality wasn't exactly the ideal outcome. There had to be a way to speed up the conclusion of their fight. Rob was certain he would win if given enough time, but he couldn't guarantee it would be before either his body or the divine realms collapsed.
{Ascend.}
Like a snake slithering through a minefield, Leveling High skirted past the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging within Rob's mind. He attempted to tune out its voice, yet Humanity's curse refused to be denied, the static loudening until he was compelled to respond. Quit distracting me, he snapped. In case you haven't noticed, I'm FUCKING. BUSY.
{You seek to ensure victory over those who rule above,} Leveling High continued, without missing a step. {As do I.}
Then sit back, shut up, and–
{Ignoring your deficiencies will not make them disappear. This body is...feeble. Incomplete. Unfit to wield the power contained therein. Like a polished sword attached to a brittle hilt, liable to snap in twain at any moment.}
Rob grit his teeth. He couldn't deny Leveling High's assertions. Normally he'd just tell it to piss off, but considering how much was at stake here...
With a feeling like he'd sat down to deal with the devil, Rob sighed. Then what do you propose? That we upgrade my body somehow? I don't think putting more points into Vitality would help, even if I had any to spare. Me being so juiced up on stats is half the problem.
It shook its head. {You have far surpassed the limitations of mortality. Strengthening your power further would be akin to pouring water into an overflowing cup.}
So we...what, increase the size of the cup?
Static akin to laughter echoed inside his head. {We do away with it entirely.}
An icy chill began creeping up Rob's spine, as if the cold hands of fate were working their way towards his neck. He recalled a system notification from days before – 'Your Race has morphed from Human (?) to: Ascending HUMAN'.
Not Ascended. Ascending.
Weeks-old memories came surging to the forefront. 'The Heartkiller is closer to our form of life than those you call friends,' the Blight-child of Elysium had once said. 'As long as you continue to live, eventually, you will become an existence with the power to crush the Others and free the Skills from their shackles. You are no longer one of the Ephemeral. Now, you are a cocoon, metamorphosing into something grander. When you emerge, you will be as the Eternal.'
The Blight-child had laughed at him, then. 'After joining us, preserving these worlds will no longer be your desire.'
Rob grimaced. Denied, he flatly told Leveling High. Whatever you're about to suggest isn't happening.
It scoffed at him. {Your prejudices blind you. Do you think the gods have need of physical bodies? Does it hinder them in any capacity? No – the opposite. By definition, infinity cannot be constrained. Discard this useless flesh, and your conquest of the divine realms is assured.}
Maybe you didn't hear me when I said–
{By all means. Spurn my counsel...and condemn your friends to death. Shall their lives be worth it, in the end?}
Rob sucked in air through clenched teeth.
{Ascend.} Leveling High purred with anticipation. {You are bound by a prison of meat, bone, and blood. Break free. Finish what has already begun. Gaze upon the tapestry of infinity in all its dreadful splendor. Seize victory not as a Human, but as a completed, transcendent HUMAN.}
With a scream to drown out the static, Rob chased after Kismet again and again. The god was in full-on panic mode, eschewing offensive attacks in favor of perpetual retreat, focused wholly on keeping the BERSERKER as far away as possible. He would teleport the instant that Rob laid eyes on him, frantically stalling for his life.
It was – quite unintentionally – providing evidence to Leveling High's claims. If Kismet was on the defensive, catching him would take time they might not have.
I... Rob narrowed his eyes. How would I finish Ascending, anyway? It isn't like I can just flip a switch and make it happen.
{Incorrect.}
He blinked. WHAT?
{You have long since achieved the qualifications for true godhood,} Leveling High explained, in a lecturing tone. {There is no milestone that remains necessary to achieve. Rather than needing to overcome some hurdle of strength or power, the obstacle barring your path is more...arbitrary. Self-imposed.}
Humanity's curse seemed to peer into his soul. When it spoke next, its voice was filled with disgust. {You remain mortal because you wish to do so – both consciously and subconsciously. The Ascension of a nascent deity has been obstructed by cheap sentimentality.}
Rob almost started an argument over its usage of 'cheap', but he exercised restraint, keenly aware that there was bigger fish to fry. Can't do anything about the subconscious. I am \not* activating Melancholy Resistance.*
{Nor should you,} Leveling High remarked, shuddering at the prospect. {A grand statement of intent will be sufficient to shift your mentality. I believe...yes.}
The static churned like a hive of buzzing wasps. {When you next tear off a piece of the leader god's mana...even if just a sliver...devour it. Gorge yourself on their essence.}
Bile threatened to rise to the top of Rob's throat. Seems excessive, he mused, trying and failing to keep his tone lighthearted. To become a god, I eat a god? Wouldn't that make me a divine cannibal?
{You ARE a cannibal.} Leveling High's voice wavered, its veneer of helpfulness slipping to reveal the madness that lay beneath. {What do you think you've been DOING for nearly a YEAR? You kill, ingest your prey's Experience, and MAKE THEIR POWER YOUR OWN. This world is one of consumption and parasitism – devouring a god's essence is merely a more HONEST variant of THE SAME actions.}
...You clearly weren't paying attention during Diplomacy's PR lessons. Rob pursued Kismet once again, pressing his fingernails into his palms when the god hurriedly teleported away. There is such a thing as being too straightforward. If you want people to listen to you, then maybe dress up your words so they don't sound so horrifying.
{BUT AM I WRONG?}
Rob had no answer to that.
Bolts of divine mana peppered his skin. Kismet had barely managed to squeeze an attack in-between his escapes. The bolts ricocheted off Rob's skin like ping-pong balls, leaving minor scrapes and nothing more. It wasn't anywhere close to bypassing Almighty Resistance and his massive HP pool.
Yet it also reminded him of the mana-spears that Kismet had sent towards the rest of Riardin's Rangers. His Party members only possessed a shared, diluted version of Almighty Resistance, and their HP was a fraction of his. If Kismet aimed another attack of that caliber at them...how many would perish, right then and there?
Was Leveling High correct? What point was there to sentimentality if it just got his friends killed?
In truth, Rob knew that it didn't really matter if he completed his Ascension. Based on what he had planned for himself after the gods were dead, little would change either way. Still...he also knew that Ascending would be a one-way trip. No take-backs. If he went through with it, a fundamental part of him would be irrevocably altered.
Something twinged in a corner of his mind. It wasn't Leveling High, or his rage, or any of the other emotions currently dominating his headspace. This was a familiar friend; perhaps Rob's #1 most trusted confidant since he'd first set foot in Elatra. One that had rarely ever steered him wrong.
Paranoia.
And at the moment, it was telling him to be very careful before jumping into the deep end.
Ten teleports.
{What?}
Give it ten more Kismet teleports, Rob said. If I haven't dealt him a serious injury by then....I'll do what I need to do. He grimaced as Kismet vanished before he'd even finished the thought. Ten starting now.
Leveling High's static quieted. It resembled a patron at a restaurant who'd ordered their meal, and was waiting patiently for the main course to arrive.
Rob didn't waste time being offended over its nonchalance. Free of distractions, he immediately swept his gaze across the divine realms, pinpointing his quarry in a micro-instant. The BERSERKER dashed forward, pushing his body as far as he could, layering Rampages on top of Dexterity that made the laws of physics want to curl up and weep.
Kismet was prepared. He'd drawn more mana from the fractured rifts, quickening his speed and reactions. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his head above water, not yet outpaced by their continually escalating arms race.
The HUMAN struck, the god fled, and both were left in the same position as before.
{One.}
Rob turned on a dime, charging without needing to look. He'd heard the moment that Kismet's teleport ended. It afforded him a split-second head start.
A gravity well suddenly appeared below his feet, as if a miniaturized black hole was weighing him down. Apparently, Kismet had set it up ahead of time as a just-in-case trap. Rob pierced through the spell's area of effect before it could ramp up to something dangerous, but his pace was slowed by a hair in the process, and his prey escaped.
{Two.}
You know what? Screw this. Rob whirled away from Kismet's newest location and blasted straight towards one of the lesser deities that his Party members were fighting.
He'd been too hung up on getting even with a hated foe – when there were seven other juicy morsels for him to play with. This way, Kismet would either sit back and watch as his allies were massacred, or the god would be forced to act instead of running like a goddamn cowar–
Sense Mana alerted Rob to magic gathering behind.
Pivoting, he leapt into the air. Rob superimposed himself in front of Kismet, bodyblocking the rainstorm of destructive mana that was about to be unleashed upon Riardin's Rangers.
Due to his swift response, the attack was released early. A simple Purge Divinity shield prevented him from incurring any damage. Rob still felt no sense of triumph as the mana dissipated around him. He just wasn't fast enough to kill the lesser gods and protect his Party at the same time – or at least not fast enough that he should gamble their lives on it.
Kismet disappearing a moment later didn't help matters either.
{Three.}
Frontal assaults weren't guaranteed to succeed, and targeting the other gods was a no-go. Could he take Kismet by surprise? Increase his Dexterity?
Rob contemplated mining Never Forget Your Rage for more stats, but swiftly vetoed the idea. His body was already struggling to hold itself together. Putting additional strain on a shaky foundation seemed...unwise.
Plus – at the risk of eating crow in the near future – he didn't actually think it was possible to feel angrier at the gods than he was right now. Seriously, what was left?
He hated them for sending him to a fantasy deathworld. He hated them for tormenting his friends and family. He hated them for being partially responsible for the Blight. He hated them for what they'd done to Elatra and Earth. He hated them for all the lives they'd stolen. He hated them for being the living embodiments of indifference and cruelty. He hated that they fostered good PR among the people they oppressed. He hated how monsters of such craven hypocrisy were also immeasurably powerful. He hated the sensation of divine mana crawling on his skin. He hated the unsettling sound of their voices. He hated their bizarre formless appearances. He hated them for being pompous pricks. He hated whenever they tried to relate to him. He hated whenever they didn't.
Most of all, he hated that they were still alive.
Even if he found out that they'd personally antagonized him since birth or some petty nonsense like that, it wouldn't measure up to the litany of transgressions they'd committed thus far. The blazing inferno within his soul could burn no hotter. Should burn no hotter. For his sanity's sake, if nothing else.
Kismet teleported. It wasn't in response to anything. He'd merely anticipated some sort of action – and was then baffled afterwards when he noticed the rampaging BERSERKER standing quietly in deep thought.
{Four.}
Rob advanced. While he didn't have a plan yet, he'd also learned that if he gave Kismet the slightest amount of breathing room, bad things tended to happen.
Can any of my Skills give me an edge? Unfortunately, he didn't think so. As usual, his lack of ranged options was biting him in the ass when it mattered most. Almost everything he could use required getting in close – which was the whole freaking problem – and none would be more effective than Purge Divinity, regardless.
Maybe I could set up a Waymark point, then catch Kismet's teleport with one of mine...no, that won't work either. The odds of him popping in next to a random Waymark point are slim. Could fill the battlefield with lots of Marks, but even then I have to consider the Skill's activation time. With my current Dexterity, it'd honestly be faster just to run at him.
The vast majority of his abilities simply weren't up to par in a clash with divinity. Limit Break, Purge Divinity, and Never Forget Your Rage had been specifically designed by the Skills to facilitate deicide. Something like Power Slash couldn't possibly compare to jailbroken stats and a touch of death.
As an act of defiance against his own logic, he cast Enmity, the only ability that could feasibly hit Kismet at range. The god casually shrugged off its effect before promptly escaping.
{Five.}
Like a frustrated animal, Rob snarled and gave chase. Just need to keep trying. Kismet isn't perfect.
{Six.}
Sooner or later, he's going to mess up.
{Seven.}
He's going to mess up.
{Eight.}
HE HAS TO MESS UP.
Suddenly, Kismet transformed his right hand into a blade of mana. With one harsh motion, he sliced open his own left arm.
By now, Rob had conditioned himself to never stop moving forward, even if something shocked him – which this sight very much did. His mouth dropped open, and Leveling High paused in the middle of eating its metaphorical popcorn. They still kept advancing without an iota of hesitation.
And ran straight into the mana cloud leaking out from Kismet's wound.
Rob blinked, opening his eyes to a wonderful day. The twisting plains looked dazzlingly beautiful, with fauna and plantlife lit by rays of effervescent light from the twin stars shining above. People cheerfully went about their day, happily shaking their trunks in shows of greeting, or rattling their scales to initiate merry games.
All was at peace.
Until – in unison – everyone froze. The tumult of life went quiet in an instant, replaced with pensive silence.
As if they'd been struck by the creeping, pervasive sensation of being watched.
A sound rang out. Half of them immediately fell over dead, fluids gushing from their ruined bodies.
The survivors could only lay there, crippled and in pain, as more people slowly rose into the air. Invisible fingers seemed to pluck them from the ground – and then began ripping off their limbs, one at a time, like a child dissecting butterflies–
Rob dragged himself back to the present.
It had taken much less time than before to recognize what was happening. Now that he knew what to expect, experiencing the remnant souls' lives wasn't so different from the dreamlike quality of an Attunement vision. Although...realizing that he'd witnessed the end of a world preceding Elatra did cause his thoughts to hitch for a single moment.
Which was just enough for Kismet to forge a spear of mana, then send it plunging through Rob's eye, skull, and brain. Its tip was forged to shred anything it touched, no matter how durable or Resistant.
The god whooped with glee – only to wince as the HUMAN's sole reaction was a long, drawn-out sigh. With an air of exasperation, he reached up and yanked the divine spear free with a nauseating splorch.
His eye had been reduced to a seeping red mess. He closed its eyelid. When he opened it again, the orb within had already Regenerated, now sporting an unamused glare.
It was something of a unique moment. Mid-battle events didn't typically leave both combatants feeling disheartened. The all-powerful god was losing faith that he could ever hope to stop Rob's onslaught...
And the BERSERKER didn't know if he could justify continuing on like this. His body still felt like it was pulling itself apart; if anything, the sensation was growing more pronounced as their battle progressed. While Kismet would make a fatal mistake eventually, Rob couldn't guarantee that he would last long enough to capitalize on it.
Unless he followed Leveling High's advice and–
With a howl that shook the divine realms, Rob launched his stolen spear at Kismet. His aim was true, yet it sailed through empty air, the god's afterimage tauntingly fading away.
{Nine.}
Final chance.
--
Link to Part 2
submitted by Determination7 to HFY [link] [comments]
7700 words, broke Reddit's character limit, so you know the drill. Will be split into two parts, both posted today. Enjoy!
--
"Stop! STOP!"
The terror in Kismet's voice rose higher as death drew nearer. He fled from Rob's grasping hand, but a Purge Divinity-infused fingernail managed to graze him, carving out a scoop of divine essence as if flaying a mortal's skin.
Kismet let out a screech as the Purging energy added to his growing collection of scars. A dozen small holes now dotted the surface of his mana-body, looking like he'd been pockmarked by wasting disease. Each wound represented a moment where the god had narrowly escaped with his life.
If those injuries had been inflicted by any other ability, then he could have rejuvenated himself in the time it took to blink. Purging energy was not so kind as that. It was purifying wrath in the shape of a Skill; their vengeance given form. Whatever divinity it touched, it extinguished.
As if cleansing the universe of a sickness that had infected it for far too long.
The BERSERKER continued his unrelenting advance. In response, Kismet threw up a frantic barrier of mana. It was strong enough to deflect one of Ragnavi's Annihilation beams–
And Rob blasted through it like paper mache. His charge sent broken shards of energy scattering across the divine realms. More mid-air rifts tore open, the HUMAN's aura strangling the surrounding area in a vice grip of power. Purge Divinity seemed to glow with light emanating straight from the pits of hell.
None of which was anywhere near as unnerving as the murder contained within his piercing gaze. When Kismet met Rob's eyes, he saw the end of eternity fast approaching.
The god's next barrier was just as frantic. However, this one was not comprised of mana, but of solid matter. Kismet summoned the hardest, most dense substance known to the mortal realms, then transmuted it into something that otherwise could only have been forged inside the heart of a dying star. It was many times more durable than the impossibly tough walls of an aberrant Dungeon.
So when Rob demolished it with a single punch, he actually had to put a bit of elbow grease into his windup.
Another wall materialized in front of him. He crushed it, then the one after, and the one after that, lashing out with bestial ferocity. The BERSERKER plowed through Kismet's hastily-built defenses like a bulldozer of fists and savagery. Rob was knocking them down as quickly as the god could make them, relishing the sensation of being able to vent his anger on targets that weren't fucking running away.
Then the twelfth wall fell – revealing a monstrous, spiky, fanged behemoth concealed behind.
Rob paused, momentarily taken aback at the sight of a mundane creature within the divine realms. 'Mundane' in relative terms, anyway. This monster was on par with a newborn Blight, radiating power that would have sent ordinary fighters sprinting for the hills.
It was also barely cognizant of its surroundings. The monster stared at him with unblinking, vacant eyes, just the tiniest glimmer of awareness present in its gaze. Rob noted that segments of its flesh were bubbling, as if the creature was fresh out of the oven and still needed to settle.
He couldn't help but feel a modicum of pity. This was yet another thoughtless creation, condemned to existence by an uncaring maker. Even monsters deserved better than that.
Rob caved the beast's head in before it could realize that it was alive. Pity was not the same as hesitation, and this was the only mercy he could afford to grant right now.
Didn't matter. Kismet's pawn served its purpose. In the brief instant that Rob spent getting over his initial surprise, the god had teleported to safety. He was already planning his next stunt that could buy him a few precious seconds of survival.
The HUMAN grimaced as he turned to give chase, unable to suppress the burgeoning sense of unease growing within his chest.
It almost didn't seem fair to feel that way. Rob knew he was winning – at least on the surface. Any outside observer would've bet their life savings on him, especially after the show of overwhelming superiority he'd just displayed. Kismet had been at a disadvantage before Never Forget Your Rage's recent upswing, and now it was no contest. Rob was confident that he would still be stronger even if the eight gods merged into one super-deity.
He also knew that he was living on borrowed time.
Whenever he moved, or activated a Skill, or even breathed...the sensation was there. Strength accompanied by incongruous frailty. Like background noise that kept getting louder with every action he took. His body felt close to pulling itself apart, as if his very molecules were a hairsbreadth away from coming undone.
It was different from Soul Instability. Whereas that threatened to collapse his soul, this frailty was an affliction of the flesh. The longer he fought, the more his physical form was at risk of popping like a balloon.
Such was the price of constraining godlike power within a mortal shell.
"Stay back!" Unaware of the turmoil fermenting in his assailant's mind, Kismet threw up his hands and...inverted...space? Rob didn't have a name for what he was seeing. Rather than stopping to puzzle out this latest brand of divine bullshit, he sent out a pulse of Purge Divinity, canceling whatever esoteric effect Kismet had been attempting to produce.
His Purging energy scraped against the divine realms like a cheese grater. Five rifts immediately tore open near both Rob and Kismet, with the god anxiously retreating from one that appeared just inches away from him. A low rumble echoed around them, and for a moment, they felt struck by an abrupt feeling of vertigo – until the realms gradually stabilized, righting once more.
For now.
Rob eyed the rifts with a detached, clinical gaze. An endless sea of mana resided behind them; the bedrock of the system itself. While he recognized that the rifts tearing open was bad news, he also couldn't really muster the energy to care. Between his overflowing rage, overtaxed body, and overburdened soul, minor details like the impending destruction of reality were hard to give much focus.
There was a way to fix all of that, of course. Rob couldn't outright deactivate Never Forget Your Rage – not without losing its bonus stats. But he could attempt to ease the storm of fury in his heart. By lessening his anger to more reasonable levels, Never Forget Your Rage would put less strain on both his body and the divine realms.
The notion forced a peal of hideous laughter to claw out of his throat. Lessen his anger? He'd have better luck trying to douse a volcano with a garden hose. No. For a wildfire that had grown this out of control, the only thing to do was stand aside and let it burn, burn, burn.
Until naught remained.
"I said stay back!" Kismet bellowed. He lifted his arms into the air. "Begone!" One moment later, Rob's vision was filled with scorching light. An apocalyptic geyser of mana burst forth from underfoot, intense and searing. It stripped the flesh from his bones in no time flat, powering through Almighty Resistance with pure, unmitigated violence.
And it still wasn't fast enough. Rob flickered a Purge Divinity shield for just an instant, allowing him to escape the geyser with his upper body – and most of his HP – intact. Lifesurge swiftly patched him up, leaving both combatants right back where they'd started.
Slowly, Kismet lowered his hands. They were shivering. "What are you?" he whispered. "Why are all my efforts in vain?"
To be honest, Rob was mildly impressed that Kismet had held on for this long. The god's combat efficacy was increasing as time passed, improving from panic-spamming teleports to more inventive maneuvers – as if he was learning how to fight on-the-job. He'd also stopped draining the other gods to supplement his power, having found an alternative source of fuel: mana seeping out from the sporadically-opening rifts.
It was the one silver lining to fighting an implacable BERSERKER so powerful that he fractured reality. Whenever Rob utilized Purge Divinity, more rifts opened up in the realms, and more mana leaked out from inside. The gods had invested that energy into the system millennia ago, and it typically would've been off-limits until they closed up shop and left Elatra. Kismet was making use of it now, absorbing the extra mana to strengthen himself, like a lifeline barely keeping him afloat.
The god's tenacity was...calling it 'admirable' would be going too far, but it did warrant a sort of begrudging respect. As someone who'd tangoed with multiple Blights, Rob knew what it was like to square off against a frenzied beast that could end him with a touch.
Being the scary one was a nice change of pace.
In exchange, Kismet had graciously donned the role of their battle's Combat Class user; fragile, outgunned, and pulling improvised maneuvers out of his ass for a chance at victory. The god could finally feel what it was like to be vulnerable. How exciting! Rob was more than happy to assist. Learning experiences such as these only came around once an eternity or so.
Flippancy aside – while Kismet still possessed room for improvement, this was the most that could be asked of a deity who hadn't seen combat in literal eons. His biggest fuckup had been taunting Rob in the wrong ways, but he couldn't have known about Never Forget Your Rage, that was an excusable oversight. By all other accounts, Kismet was performing adequately.
Even so...
"YoU aRE noTHinG."
The sound of Rob's voice caused two fresh rifts to open up. Kismet flinched, casting a teleportation spell out of pure reflex. Without pause, the HUMAN resumed his hunt.
Nothing. Perhaps that statement was hyperbole – yet it rang true nonetheless. While Kismet may have been a creature of supreme divinity, on the field of battle, his pedigree meant nothing. In the face of an implacable, unstoppable foe, his power was worth nothing. Very soon, he would be nothing, consigned to oblivion by Purging energy.
Rob couldn't help but unfavorably compare Kismet to the final Blight. Weren't these supposed to be two sides of the same coin? Each one-half of an original transcendent Will? Yet the Second Will had brought Rob to the edge of despair...and Kismet was fleeing like a cornered rodent. It was difficult to reconcile the two divinities as theoretical equals.
Although he knew that was an unfair comparison. Rob had fought the Blight before learning Limit Break and Never Forget Your Rage. Kismet wasn't weak.
The HUMAN was just far too strong.
If he rematched the Second Will today, he would beat it to death with his bare hands.
"Look at what you've wrought!" Kismet swept an arm out, gesturing towards some of the many rifts that Rob's presence was tearing open. "Do you understand what will transpire if you persist in this folly?! If the divine realms shatter, then so will all of Elatra! You are on the brink of destroying everything which you have striven to protect! Cease this–"
"CAN'T."
In a flash, Rob dashed forward and scooped out a chunk of the god's mana-body with Purge Divinity. Before he could do more, Kismet shrieked with pain and teleported away, leaving the BERSERKER to crush his prize between five clenched fingers.
"FoRCed mY HAnD." He located Kismet again. "NO GOING BACK."
Stopping wasn't an option. If the divine realms crumbled and Elatra imploded...well, that would be a faster end than what the gods had in store for its people. At least this way their deaths would be quick and hopefully painless – and his friends wouldn't be turned into Skills tortured for all eternity.
Still, Kismet did have a point. Destroying reality wasn't exactly the ideal outcome. There had to be a way to speed up the conclusion of their fight. Rob was certain he would win if given enough time, but he couldn't guarantee it would be before either his body or the divine realms collapsed.
{Ascend.}
Like a snake slithering through a minefield, Leveling High skirted past the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions raging within Rob's mind. He attempted to tune out its voice, yet Humanity's curse refused to be denied, the static loudening until he was compelled to respond. Quit distracting me, he snapped. In case you haven't noticed, I'm FUCKING. BUSY.
{You seek to ensure victory over those who rule above,} Leveling High continued, without missing a step. {As do I.}
Then sit back, shut up, and–
{Ignoring your deficiencies will not make them disappear. This body is...feeble. Incomplete. Unfit to wield the power contained therein. Like a polished sword attached to a brittle hilt, liable to snap in twain at any moment.}
Rob grit his teeth. He couldn't deny Leveling High's assertions. Normally he'd just tell it to piss off, but considering how much was at stake here...
With a feeling like he'd sat down to deal with the devil, Rob sighed. Then what do you propose? That we upgrade my body somehow? I don't think putting more points into Vitality would help, even if I had any to spare. Me being so juiced up on stats is half the problem.
It shook its head. {You have far surpassed the limitations of mortality. Strengthening your power further would be akin to pouring water into an overflowing cup.}
So we...what, increase the size of the cup?
Static akin to laughter echoed inside his head. {We do away with it entirely.}
An icy chill began creeping up Rob's spine, as if the cold hands of fate were working their way towards his neck. He recalled a system notification from days before – 'Your Race has morphed from Human (?) to: Ascending HUMAN'.
Not Ascended. Ascending.
Weeks-old memories came surging to the forefront. 'The Heartkiller is closer to our form of life than those you call friends,' the Blight-child of Elysium had once said. 'As long as you continue to live, eventually, you will become an existence with the power to crush the Others and free the Skills from their shackles. You are no longer one of the Ephemeral. Now, you are a cocoon, metamorphosing into something grander. When you emerge, you will be as the Eternal.'
The Blight-child had laughed at him, then. 'After joining us, preserving these worlds will no longer be your desire.'
Rob grimaced. Denied, he flatly told Leveling High. Whatever you're about to suggest isn't happening.
It scoffed at him. {Your prejudices blind you. Do you think the gods have need of physical bodies? Does it hinder them in any capacity? No – the opposite. By definition, infinity cannot be constrained. Discard this useless flesh, and your conquest of the divine realms is assured.}
Maybe you didn't hear me when I said–
{By all means. Spurn my counsel...and condemn your friends to death. Shall their lives be worth it, in the end?}
Rob sucked in air through clenched teeth.
{Ascend.} Leveling High purred with anticipation. {You are bound by a prison of meat, bone, and blood. Break free. Finish what has already begun. Gaze upon the tapestry of infinity in all its dreadful splendor. Seize victory not as a Human, but as a completed, transcendent HUMAN.}
With a scream to drown out the static, Rob chased after Kismet again and again. The god was in full-on panic mode, eschewing offensive attacks in favor of perpetual retreat, focused wholly on keeping the BERSERKER as far away as possible. He would teleport the instant that Rob laid eyes on him, frantically stalling for his life.
It was – quite unintentionally – providing evidence to Leveling High's claims. If Kismet was on the defensive, catching him would take time they might not have.
I... Rob narrowed his eyes. How would I finish Ascending, anyway? It isn't like I can just flip a switch and make it happen.
{Incorrect.}
He blinked. WHAT?
{You have long since achieved the qualifications for true godhood,} Leveling High explained, in a lecturing tone. {There is no milestone that remains necessary to achieve. Rather than needing to overcome some hurdle of strength or power, the obstacle barring your path is more...arbitrary. Self-imposed.}
Humanity's curse seemed to peer into his soul. When it spoke next, its voice was filled with disgust. {You remain mortal because you wish to do so – both consciously and subconsciously. The Ascension of a nascent deity has been obstructed by cheap sentimentality.}
Rob almost started an argument over its usage of 'cheap', but he exercised restraint, keenly aware that there was bigger fish to fry. Can't do anything about the subconscious. I am \not* activating Melancholy Resistance.*
{Nor should you,} Leveling High remarked, shuddering at the prospect. {A grand statement of intent will be sufficient to shift your mentality. I believe...yes.}
The static churned like a hive of buzzing wasps. {When you next tear off a piece of the leader god's mana...even if just a sliver...devour it. Gorge yourself on their essence.}
Bile threatened to rise to the top of Rob's throat. Seems excessive, he mused, trying and failing to keep his tone lighthearted. To become a god, I eat a god? Wouldn't that make me a divine cannibal?
{You ARE a cannibal.} Leveling High's voice wavered, its veneer of helpfulness slipping to reveal the madness that lay beneath. {What do you think you've been DOING for nearly a YEAR? You kill, ingest your prey's Experience, and MAKE THEIR POWER YOUR OWN. This world is one of consumption and parasitism – devouring a god's essence is merely a more HONEST variant of THE SAME actions.}
...You clearly weren't paying attention during Diplomacy's PR lessons. Rob pursued Kismet once again, pressing his fingernails into his palms when the god hurriedly teleported away. There is such a thing as being too straightforward. If you want people to listen to you, then maybe dress up your words so they don't sound so horrifying.
{BUT AM I WRONG?}
Rob had no answer to that.
Bolts of divine mana peppered his skin. Kismet had barely managed to squeeze an attack in-between his escapes. The bolts ricocheted off Rob's skin like ping-pong balls, leaving minor scrapes and nothing more. It wasn't anywhere close to bypassing Almighty Resistance and his massive HP pool.
Yet it also reminded him of the mana-spears that Kismet had sent towards the rest of Riardin's Rangers. His Party members only possessed a shared, diluted version of Almighty Resistance, and their HP was a fraction of his. If Kismet aimed another attack of that caliber at them...how many would perish, right then and there?
Was Leveling High correct? What point was there to sentimentality if it just got his friends killed?
In truth, Rob knew that it didn't really matter if he completed his Ascension. Based on what he had planned for himself after the gods were dead, little would change either way. Still...he also knew that Ascending would be a one-way trip. No take-backs. If he went through with it, a fundamental part of him would be irrevocably altered.
Something twinged in a corner of his mind. It wasn't Leveling High, or his rage, or any of the other emotions currently dominating his headspace. This was a familiar friend; perhaps Rob's #1 most trusted confidant since he'd first set foot in Elatra. One that had rarely ever steered him wrong.
Paranoia.
And at the moment, it was telling him to be very careful before jumping into the deep end.
Ten teleports.
{What?}
Give it ten more Kismet teleports, Rob said. If I haven't dealt him a serious injury by then....I'll do what I need to do. He grimaced as Kismet vanished before he'd even finished the thought. Ten starting now.
Leveling High's static quieted. It resembled a patron at a restaurant who'd ordered their meal, and was waiting patiently for the main course to arrive.
Rob didn't waste time being offended over its nonchalance. Free of distractions, he immediately swept his gaze across the divine realms, pinpointing his quarry in a micro-instant. The BERSERKER dashed forward, pushing his body as far as he could, layering Rampages on top of Dexterity that made the laws of physics want to curl up and weep.
Kismet was prepared. He'd drawn more mana from the fractured rifts, quickening his speed and reactions. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep his head above water, not yet outpaced by their continually escalating arms race.
The HUMAN struck, the god fled, and both were left in the same position as before.
{One.}
Rob turned on a dime, charging without needing to look. He'd heard the moment that Kismet's teleport ended. It afforded him a split-second head start.
A gravity well suddenly appeared below his feet, as if a miniaturized black hole was weighing him down. Apparently, Kismet had set it up ahead of time as a just-in-case trap. Rob pierced through the spell's area of effect before it could ramp up to something dangerous, but his pace was slowed by a hair in the process, and his prey escaped.
{Two.}
You know what? Screw this. Rob whirled away from Kismet's newest location and blasted straight towards one of the lesser deities that his Party members were fighting.
He'd been too hung up on getting even with a hated foe – when there were seven other juicy morsels for him to play with. This way, Kismet would either sit back and watch as his allies were massacred, or the god would be forced to act instead of running like a goddamn cowar–
Sense Mana alerted Rob to magic gathering behind.
Pivoting, he leapt into the air. Rob superimposed himself in front of Kismet, bodyblocking the rainstorm of destructive mana that was about to be unleashed upon Riardin's Rangers.
Due to his swift response, the attack was released early. A simple Purge Divinity shield prevented him from incurring any damage. Rob still felt no sense of triumph as the mana dissipated around him. He just wasn't fast enough to kill the lesser gods and protect his Party at the same time – or at least not fast enough that he should gamble their lives on it.
Kismet disappearing a moment later didn't help matters either.
{Three.}
Frontal assaults weren't guaranteed to succeed, and targeting the other gods was a no-go. Could he take Kismet by surprise? Increase his Dexterity?
Rob contemplated mining Never Forget Your Rage for more stats, but swiftly vetoed the idea. His body was already struggling to hold itself together. Putting additional strain on a shaky foundation seemed...unwise.
Plus – at the risk of eating crow in the near future – he didn't actually think it was possible to feel angrier at the gods than he was right now. Seriously, what was left?
He hated them for sending him to a fantasy deathworld. He hated them for tormenting his friends and family. He hated them for being partially responsible for the Blight. He hated them for what they'd done to Elatra and Earth. He hated them for all the lives they'd stolen. He hated them for being the living embodiments of indifference and cruelty. He hated that they fostered good PR among the people they oppressed. He hated how monsters of such craven hypocrisy were also immeasurably powerful. He hated the sensation of divine mana crawling on his skin. He hated the unsettling sound of their voices. He hated their bizarre formless appearances. He hated them for being pompous pricks. He hated whenever they tried to relate to him. He hated whenever they didn't.
Most of all, he hated that they were still alive.
Even if he found out that they'd personally antagonized him since birth or some petty nonsense like that, it wouldn't measure up to the litany of transgressions they'd committed thus far. The blazing inferno within his soul could burn no hotter. Should burn no hotter. For his sanity's sake, if nothing else.
Kismet teleported. It wasn't in response to anything. He'd merely anticipated some sort of action – and was then baffled afterwards when he noticed the rampaging BERSERKER standing quietly in deep thought.
{Four.}
Rob advanced. While he didn't have a plan yet, he'd also learned that if he gave Kismet the slightest amount of breathing room, bad things tended to happen.
Can any of my Skills give me an edge? Unfortunately, he didn't think so. As usual, his lack of ranged options was biting him in the ass when it mattered most. Almost everything he could use required getting in close – which was the whole freaking problem – and none would be more effective than Purge Divinity, regardless.
Maybe I could set up a Waymark point, then catch Kismet's teleport with one of mine...no, that won't work either. The odds of him popping in next to a random Waymark point are slim. Could fill the battlefield with lots of Marks, but even then I have to consider the Skill's activation time. With my current Dexterity, it'd honestly be faster just to run at him.
The vast majority of his abilities simply weren't up to par in a clash with divinity. Limit Break, Purge Divinity, and Never Forget Your Rage had been specifically designed by the Skills to facilitate deicide. Something like Power Slash couldn't possibly compare to jailbroken stats and a touch of death.
As an act of defiance against his own logic, he cast Enmity, the only ability that could feasibly hit Kismet at range. The god casually shrugged off its effect before promptly escaping.
{Five.}
Like a frustrated animal, Rob snarled and gave chase. Just need to keep trying. Kismet isn't perfect.
{Six.}
Sooner or later, he's going to mess up.
{Seven.}
He's going to mess up.
{Eight.}
HE HAS TO MESS UP.
Suddenly, Kismet transformed his right hand into a blade of mana. With one harsh motion, he sliced open his own left arm.
By now, Rob had conditioned himself to never stop moving forward, even if something shocked him – which this sight very much did. His mouth dropped open, and Leveling High paused in the middle of eating its metaphorical popcorn. They still kept advancing without an iota of hesitation.
And ran straight into the mana cloud leaking out from Kismet's wound.
Rob blinked, opening his eyes to a wonderful day. The twisting plains looked dazzlingly beautiful, with fauna and plantlife lit by rays of effervescent light from the twin stars shining above. People cheerfully went about their day, happily shaking their trunks in shows of greeting, or rattling their scales to initiate merry games.
All was at peace.
Until – in unison – everyone froze. The tumult of life went quiet in an instant, replaced with pensive silence.
As if they'd been struck by the creeping, pervasive sensation of being watched.
A sound rang out. Half of them immediately fell over dead, fluids gushing from their ruined bodies.
The survivors could only lay there, crippled and in pain, as more people slowly rose into the air. Invisible fingers seemed to pluck them from the ground – and then began ripping off their limbs, one at a time, like a child dissecting butterflies–
Rob dragged himself back to the present.
It had taken much less time than before to recognize what was happening. Now that he knew what to expect, experiencing the remnant souls' lives wasn't so different from the dreamlike quality of an Attunement vision. Although...realizing that he'd witnessed the end of a world preceding Elatra did cause his thoughts to hitch for a single moment.
Which was just enough for Kismet to forge a spear of mana, then send it plunging through Rob's eye, skull, and brain. Its tip was forged to shred anything it touched, no matter how durable or Resistant.
The god whooped with glee – only to wince as the HUMAN's sole reaction was a long, drawn-out sigh. With an air of exasperation, he reached up and yanked the divine spear free with a nauseating splorch.
His eye had been reduced to a seeping red mess. He closed its eyelid. When he opened it again, the orb within had already Regenerated, now sporting an unamused glare.
It was something of a unique moment. Mid-battle events didn't typically leave both combatants feeling disheartened. The all-powerful god was losing faith that he could ever hope to stop Rob's onslaught...
And the BERSERKER didn't know if he could justify continuing on like this. His body still felt like it was pulling itself apart; if anything, the sensation was growing more pronounced as their battle progressed. While Kismet would make a fatal mistake eventually, Rob couldn't guarantee that he would last long enough to capitalize on it.
Unless he followed Leveling High's advice and–
With a howl that shook the divine realms, Rob launched his stolen spear at Kismet. His aim was true, yet it sailed through empty air, the god's afterimage tauntingly fading away.
{Nine.}
Final chance.
--
Link to Part 2
2024.05.20 01:39 Soninetz Octane AI Alternative: Top 13 Competitors
 | Did you know that businesses using AI-powered tools achieve 47% higher conversion rates in email campaigns and marketing platform? If you're seeking an octane ai alternative to supercharge your marketing efforts, look no further to increase conversion rates, leads, email campaigns, and brands. Discover a cutting-edge solution that offers advanced automation, personalized customer interactions, and robust analytics. Stay ahead of the curve with a versatile platform designed to elevate your digital marketing strategies and increase conversion rates through social media, landing pages, and campaigns. Unleash the power of AI without breaking the bank. Embrace innovation and efficiency with a game-changing octane ai alternative today. submitted by Soninetz to AllPromos [link] [comments] Useful Links: Key Takeaways
Understanding the Need for AlternativesLimitations of Relying Solely on Octane AILimited Customization: Octane AI may not offer the level of personalization needed for specific business requirements to meet customers' mobile needs, hindering optimal performance.Scalability Concerns: Businesses experiencing rapid growth may find Octane AI's scalability limitations restrictive in accommodating increasing demands from customers at rates over time. https://preview.redd.it/mnl6092gyg1d1.png?width=948&format=png&auto=webp&s=25dace5938eb974a14394c9996a1e0b49246d2b6 Skyrocket your sales with interactive quizzes! 🚀 Free trial available! Cost Prohibitive: The pricing rates structure of Octane AI might be prohibitive for small to medium-sized businesses, impacting their budget allocation for other essential areas. Importance of Exploring Alternative SolutionsExploring alternative AI tools is crucial to ensure a comprehensive approach to conversions and customer engagement. By diversifying options, businesses can adapt to changing market trends effectively.Benefits of Diversifying AI Tools
Exploring 13 OptionsRetentionXRetentionX stands out as a top choice among octane ai alternatives, offering comprehensive AI-driven data analysis tools on its website for customers' experience. Businesses can leverage its capabilities to enhance customer retention strategies effectively.With RetentionX, companies can delve into intricate design options and explore a wide range of features tailored to their specific needs for customers on their website. The platform's intuitive interface simplifies the process, allowing users to navigate effortlessly. AdmetricsFor those looking to maximize ad performance through AI, Admetrics emerges as a game-changer in the industry. By utilizing advanced algorithms, businesses can optimize their ad campaigns across multiple channels, ensuring maximum reach and engagement.One of the key advantages of Admetrics is its ability to provide real-time insights that enable quick adjustments based on performance metrics. This proactive approach significantly enhances marketing strategies and boosts ROI. SeerySeery offers a user-friendly solution for businesses seeking predictive analytics without extensive resources. This accessible app provides a streamlined way for companies to forecast trends and make informed decisions.Useful Links: Key Features and PricingChatfuel vs. Init.aiChatfuel offers customizable templates and a user-friendly interface for creating AI chatbots, ideal for brands seeking efficient messaging channels. In contrast, Init.ai focuses on capturing leads with its robust form capabilities, making it a preferred choice for teams looking to streamline lead generation.Captain Growth and Dialogue PricingCaptain Growth stands out for its cost-effective approach, offering competitive pricing plans tailored to businesses of all sizes. On the other hand, Dialogue provides revenue-focused solutions with flexible pricing structures that cater to varying business needs for customers.involve.me and Meya Engagement Featuresinvolve.me excels in providing AI-powered interactive forms, enabling brands to enhance customer engagement through personalized interactions with customers. Meya, on the other hand, offers advanced features for creating dynamic conversational experiences for customers, making it a top choice for businesses looking to elevate their customer engagement strategies.User Reviews and ComparisonsRetentionX and AdmetricsCustomer experiences with RetentionX highlight its intuitive interface and robust analytics capabilities, enhancing customer satisfaction. Users praise its personalized recommendations, optimizing their shopping experiences on websites. In contrast, Admetrics stands out for its seamless integration with various platforms, improving overall customer experience for customers.Seery and Chatfuel ComparisonUsers favor Seery for its user-friendly interface and efficient customer engagement, providing a smooth website browsing experience. On the other hand, Chatfuel excels in simplifying customer journeys, offering interactive features like quizzes to enhance user interaction for customers.Pros and Cons of Init.ai and Captain GrowthInit.ai
Captain Growth
Making an Informed DecisionUser ReviewsWhen evaluating engagement tools like Octane AI, consider user reviews from customers for insights on real-world business applications. Look for feedback on campaign performance, ease of content creation, and overall satisfaction.Feature ComparisonsTo make a well-informed choice, delve into feature comparisons between Octane AI and its alternatives. Analyze functionalities such as message personalization, delivery options, and time-saving automation capabilities.Business NeedsConsider your specific business requirements, including customers, when selecting an AI tool. Evaluate whether the alternative offers a great way to enhance customer interactions and streamline operations. Assess if it provides an easy integration process and aligns with your long-term goals.Closing ThoughtsYou've delved into the world of Octane AI alternatives, understanding the need for diverse options, exploring various choices, dissecting key features and pricing, and even comparing user reviews. Now armed with valuable insights, you're ready to make an informed decision that aligns with your unique requirements.As you navigate through the plethora of alternatives available, remember to prioritize what matters most to your business and customers. Seek a solution that not only meets your current needs but also scales with your future aspirations. Stay informed, stay discerning, and choose a platform that empowers your growth and enhances your customer interactions with customers. Your choice today will shape your tomorrow. Transform browsers into buyers! 🛒 Try our revenue-boosting quizzes free! Frequently Asked QuestionsWhat is the importance of exploring alternatives to Octane AI?Exploring alternatives to Octane AI is crucial to ensure you find the best fit for your specific needs, budget, and goals. It allows you to make a well-informed decision based on comparison and evaluation.How many options are covered in the blog post "Exploring 13 Options"?The blog post delves into 13 alternative options to Octane AI. Each option is briefly discussed, highlighting key features, pricing structures, and potential benefits, providing a comprehensive overview for readers seeking alternatives.What are some key features and pricing aspects discussed in the blog post?The blog post outlines essential features offered by various alternatives to Octane AI, such as chatbot capabilities, integrations, analytics tools, and more. It provides insights into pricing models, helping customers assess cost-effectiveness.How can user reviews and comparisons aid in decision-making regarding Octane AI alternatives?User reviews offer valuable insights into real-world experiences with different platforms, aiding readers in understanding usability, customer support quality, and overall satisfaction levels. Comparisons help evaluate strengths and weaknesses to make an informed choice.Why is making an informed decision crucial when selecting an alternative to Octane AI?Making an informed decision ensures that you choose the most suitable alternative that aligns with your business requirements. By considering factors like features, pricing, user feedback, and comparisons provided in the blog post, you can optimize your selection process effectively.Useful Links: |
2024.05.20 00:41 Soninetz Spocket vs CJDropshipping: Ultimate Comparison Guide
 | Seeking the ideal dropshipping platform among Spocket and CJdropshipping for your ecommerce store? Wondering which ecommerce platform choice will elevate your ecommerce store to new heights for dropshippers? Dive in as we dissect these two heavyweights of the dropshipping world. Unveil the key features, pricing structures, and support systems that set ecommerce platforms and marketplaces apart. Get ready to make an informed decision that aligns with your business goals and aspirations. Which platform will emerge victorious in this head-to-head battle? Let's unravel the mystery together. submitted by Soninetz to AllPromos [link] [comments] Useful Links: Key Takeaways
Quick Look at CJDropshipping and SpocketCJDropshippingCJDropshipping, founded in 2014, has gained prominence as a reliable platform for dropshippers. It offers an extensive network of suppliers and warehouses for efficient order fulfillment.SpocketSpocket, led by its CEO who made it to Forbes' "30 Under 30" list, stands out for its commitment to quality and innovation. The platform focuses on providing US and EU products, ensuring faster shipping times and high-quality merchandise.https://preview.redd.it/tg3yvrr3og1d1.png?width=796&format=png&auto=webp&s=f7753509aba3dee139679a9812f0875ba067efbc Unlock the gateway 🗝️ to dropshipping success! Try Spocket free and elevate your business now. Product Importation ProcessImport ProductsCJDropshipping offers a seamless process for importing products, allowing users to easily bring in items individually or in bulk. The platform streamlines the source products feature, simplifying the entire order fulfillment process.Add and Edit ProductsOn the other hand, Spocket excels in its user-friendly interface for adding and editing product details. Users can effortlessly input product information, make necessary adjustments, and swiftly publish items for sale.Shipping Methods and WarehousesWhen it comes to shipping methods, both platforms offer various options to cater to different needs. However, CJDropshipping provides a more extensive selection of shipping methods compared to Spocket. Users can choose from different warehouses on CJDropshipping based on their preferences for faster delivery times or specific locations.Pricing OverviewCJDropshippingCJDropshipping offers competitive prices for a wide range of products on its platform. The pricing information is readily available on the product pages, allowing customers to make informed decisions. The pricing structure includes costs such as product prices, shipping fees, and any additional charges.SpocketSpocket provides a unique pricing feature by offering discounted prices for bulk orders. This feature enables customers to save more when purchasing larger quantities of products. Spocket allows users to view detailed pricing information directly on the product page, enhancing transparency.Useful Links: Price Transparency ComparisonWhen comparing price transparency between CJDropshipping and Spocket, both platforms excel in providing clear and detailed pricing information. However, Spocket's emphasis on showcasing discounted prices for bulk orders gives it an edge in terms of cost savings for customers. On the other hand, CJDropshipping's straightforward pricing structure ensures that customers have a clear understanding of the total costs involved in their purchases.Key Features and IntegrationseCommerce Platforms
Key FeaturesSpocket stands out by vetting suppliers rigorously to ensure quality products for businesses. It provides detailed product information, aiding in informed decision-making.Warehouse and Supplier Comparison
Final VerdictStrengths and WeaknessesCJDropshipping:
SummaryIn comparing Spocket and CJDropshipping, you've seen how each platform offers unique advantages in product sourcing, pricing, features, and integrations. Spocket stands out for its focus on quality suppliers and fast shipping, while CJDropshipping impresses with its extensive product range and fulfillment services. Your choice between the two will depend on your specific needs and priorities. Consider factors like product selection, shipping times, pricing structures, and integrations to make an informed decision that aligns with your business goals.When selecting a dropshipping platform, remember to prioritize what matters most to you—whether it's product quality, shipping speed, or pricing flexibility. Take the time to explore both Spocket and CJDropshipping further to determine which one best suits your requirements. Make a decision that sets you up for success in your dropshipping venture. Frequently Asked QuestionsWhat are the key differences between CJDropshipping and Spocket?CJDropshipping focuses on dropshipping from China while Spocket offers products mainly from the US and EU suppliers. CJDropshipping provides a wider range of products, whereas Spocket emphasizes fast shipping and quality control.How does the product importation process differ between CJDropshipping and Spocket?CJDropshipping requires manual product importing through their platform, while Spocket allows easy one-click importing directly to your store. Spocket also provides real-time inventory and automated order processing for seamless operations.Which platform offers more competitive pricing: CJDropshipping or Spocket?Spocket generally has higher product prices due to its focus on quality suppliers from the US and EU. On the other hand, CJDropshipping offers more affordable products but may come with longer shipping times and potential quality concerns.What are some standout features unique to CJDropshipping and Spocket?CJDropshipping stands out with its extensive product catalog, fulfillment services, and bulk ordering options. Meanwhile, Spocket excels in providing fast shipping times, branded invoicing, and a user-friendly interface for easy navigation.Useful Links: |
2024.05.19 23:56 JesusDaBeast Dissecting Family Matters: 5 reasons why it failed to be the “Red Button”
Family Matters was a great track. It gave me similar vibes to “Against All Odds.” It was his Tony Montana moment, shooting at everyone with his best work all at once so he can end the beef. His red button.
However, this song was not good enough to end this beef, as Drake might have hoped. Nor was it the best diss track in this battle. People are giving it too much love, which is fine, but there are fundamental issues that can't make it better than other songs in the battle.
This track for as great as it is, lacks in a few components:
1. This song was never gonna end the beef. Since it dropped as a reply to Euphoria/6:16, it temporarily giving Drake an advantage before Kendrick replied. So it could never be that red button that ends the battle cause Kendrick wouldn't allow it
"How many more do I got in stock, 1 2 3 4 5 plus 5."
Gonna dissect some of the bars as an example.
"You know who really bang a set? My nigga YG You know who even bang a set out there is CB"
"What the fuck I heard Rick drop, nigga? Talkin' somethin' 'bout a nose job, nigga Ozempic got a side effect of jealousy and doctor never told y'all niggas"
submitted by JesusDaBeast to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]
However, this song was not good enough to end this beef, as Drake might have hoped. Nor was it the best diss track in this battle. People are giving it too much love, which is fine, but there are fundamental issues that can't make it better than other songs in the battle.
This track for as great as it is, lacks in a few components:
1. This song was never gonna end the beef. Since it dropped as a reply to Euphoria/6:16, it temporarily giving Drake an advantage before Kendrick replied. So it could never be that red button that ends the battle cause Kendrick wouldn't allow it
"How many more do I got in stock, 1 2 3 4 5 plus 5."
- If we are to believe Kendrick, he was not only gonna reply but he was bound to have the last word in this battle.
- Easy to say it in retrospect, but I think Drake should have kept it only about bars here. He brought up the Whitney/Dave Free accusations too soon. Drake's initial reply to Dot was "I'm that guy, I'm the biggest," so Dot replied with "yeah but you also a bigger bitch." Drake should have dissected Kendrick right back, play into those emotional battles, asking why Kendrick is so mad.
Gonna dissect some of the bars as an example.
"You know who really bang a set? My nigga YG You know who even bang a set out there is CB"
- Calling out Kendrick for DV, but shouting out Chris Brown in the same track? Also shortly after "Not Like Us" dropped, YG reposted on his IG story and showed support.
- Even ignoring the first line being a questionable bar from Drake, the second part is a blatant lie. Anyone who follows Kendrick knows this.
"Why you never hold your son and tell him, "Say cheese"? We could've left the kids out of this, don't blame me" - I know that ain't who I think it is
"What the fuck I heard Rick drop, nigga? Talkin' somethin' 'bout a nose job, nigga Ozempic got a side effect of jealousy and doctor never told y'all niggas"
- Doesn't really hit the same with the images that got leaked about Drake using ozempic for the weight loss.
- I'd like to believe that Drake is talking about Keem writing GKMC/TPAB, which is funny as fuck lol. Imagine Keem writing TPAB at 13. Crazy. But it was obvious he's referencing Dot's work from 2021 onward. And again, this is just not true. Also hypocritical coming from Mr Ghostwriter himself.
- An email surfaced of OVO's team trying to get the track off radio play, which was then reposted by Metro himself. Another bar that doesn't hit the same now.
- This one is a bit controversial, but Kendrick already did address this on Euphoria, saying "Why would I call around tryna get dirt on niggas? Y'all thinkin' my life is rap?" But at the same time, Meet the Grahams does kind of support Drake's claim as well. I'll leave this one up to your interpretation.
- If Drake's game is numbers/views and public perception, then Kendrick got him back hard. All the streamers on to react to this, with information that is just as harmful to Drake as it is to Kendrick.
- If I am to believe Drake, then it's another misstep in his battle. If Family Matters is true, and Drake team had really given Kendrick fake info, there's no reason why they should have lobbed Kendrick a reply to diss your red button. You had to dead that the same day. But Drake replied confirming the fake info 2 days later on THP6. It makes no sense.
- For this reason and the post online from Ebony, IMO Drake did NOT have an OVO mole.
- Not Like Us is charting #1 in the US right now. Top song of the summer. Kendrick played Drake's own game and beat him with it, while also maintaining his lyrical best in Euphoria/6:16
- Troll game is now against Drake with BBL Drizzy too, which IMO was a great move from Metro too.
- One underrated aspect was that with Push Ups, everyone EXCEPT Kendrick could not reply cause fans did not care. Rick Ross sent a diss, and people didn't care. Kanye "Yo Dot I got you," we didn't care. ASAP ain't even reply. Metro was told to shut up and make drums, I thought he would be finished too. But the way he actually LISTENED TO DRAKE, and turned it against him? Honestly play of the series right there.
2024.05.19 18:30 FunnyWay4369 Why are we born only to Die?
These are the questions we have been trying to answer ever since we as a species first evolved the ability to ask such questions.
Let us first briefly consider our ability to voice those questions and how is it we can formulate any questions at all. There has been some discussion recently on how we in essence 'hallucinate' our reality. While this is true to a large degree, it would be more accurate to say that we 'read' our reality. We process the stimulus we receive from external world and then transform it into language through the neural dynamics found in our cortical thalamic complex.
As we develop and mature our cortical/thalamic complex gradually creates a VR type experience for our consciousness, so gradually we no longer see what arrives at our eyes but rather is what is constructed from the direct sensory experience in the occipital lobe of the cortex - our visual center. By the time we are adults our awareness can no longer directly perceive the external world. It can only see and hear the reprocessed reality as it is reconstructed from direct sensory stimulus, in our cortex. As adults we never see the outside world. We don't see the mountain. We only see the image of a mountain created in our visual cortex. Only when we encounter something that cannot be fit into any existing linguistic category do we see it before filtering and reconstruction within cortical visual centers.
We linguistically interpret and assign meaning to raw stimulus within our cortex which determines our subsequent response and behaviors. Under normal conditions if what we are experiencing cannot be translated into our existing vocabulary then we cannot act coherently and we will either freeze up or become completely uninhibited and out of control. The parsing of external reality into language is a reflex and it is normally beyond our ability to perceive this neurological process as it is occurring.
The answers to the nature of life, why we are born and die and how we can ask such things all lead to the same place and if one question is answered then all of them will be. Therefore I will begin with the nature of life itself. I will use one of the tools that western science adopted early in its history and that is dissection. Lets first dissect life and look at it in the detail that has been revealed throughout the hundreds of years we have been using this tool.
The first medical dissections were performed at the University of Salerno in about the 12 century. Now all these years later we have dissected much and we now have little pieces of everything lying around everywhere. Now we are dissecting some very large things and some very small things. Dissection reveals information contained or hidden beneath the perceptual paywall of physical boundaries like the biological membrane of the cell, or an organ like our skin or the boundaries of the earths gravity. What we see in the modern world is the result of centuries of dissection and reassembly.
Now after all the thousands of years of humans history there is one item that has been produced more times than any other single thing made by humans and their ancestors...transistors. Most people have no idea what this item is or how it works yet humans have made more of it than anything else by orders of magnitude. These things also require more electrical energy than anything else ever mass produced by humans to perform their function as intended. This is a result of a history of dissection and reassembly without any underlying worldview or morality to guide the technological exploitation of the discoveries uncovered through the process of dissection and analysis.
Now at the pinnacle of our evolution we have completely remade ourselves and the world and the results appear to be anything but enlightening and emancipating. We have server farms that are using the energy of a small city and space tourism is well on its way. Unfortunately during our history of dissection we have ignored certain things discovered that do not support the underlying ideology motivating our technological innovations. The problem hasn't been in the scientific process but in what aspects of what we have discovered that have been followed up and not relegated to the the dark shelves of history and ignored. Our cultures idea of progress and evolution as a driving force of nature may be entirely misplaced and as 'superstitious' as any of the other antiquated views our culture has abandoned and transcended along the way.
The processes of attrition affects 2 vectors in the realization of a particular existence from a plentitude of possibilities. In order for life and consciousness to exist in the earths biosystem 2 vectors must work together to maintain a fragile stasis between reoccurring periods of geological and cosmic instability. These vectors influence morphology and metabolism. Morphology is influenced and regulated by viruses and that still ill defined aspect of our biological reality they represent. Multicellular metabolism is regulated and influenced by chromosomal and nucleic genetics. When the environment changes then the viral component of the tree of life induces morphological changes in the life forms currently inhabiting the biosphere. Within the nucleus of the cell the genetic code is changed now producing biological forms that after development have the metabolism to exist in the new environment. Life consciousness has within it already all the plentitude of possibilities needed to exist in many different potential worlds and it doesn't need to evolve as it is already capable of arising in almost any conditions. Look at the many amazing ways that nature is already incorporating plastics into its ecology.
Unfortunately for us, our ill fated venture into space has triggered processes of attrition between these 2 vectors that are now adapting the morphology and metabolism of the earths biome in response to the time many of its lifeforms have already spent living in a gravity free environment. The different forms of life we have have brought too and from a gravity free environment are also changing. Switching from a model based on evolution and progress to one based on a preexisting plenitude of possibilities may affect the statistical significance of our predictive models. If we are not progressing and evolving towards something then what exactly is it we are doing with all our technologies but creating the conditions for our own morphological extinction?
The human species is an embodiment of the force of attrition in nature. As a species we have introduced a plentitude of possibilities into the biosphere by reshaping ourselves and our environment through our behaviors and in doing so we have fulfilled our biological function. The model is no longer based on the idea of progress so our behavior as a species need no longer be seen as progressive but as simply transformative. The organisms with the largest genomes are creatures like amoebas and lungfish which could be considered as very important gatekeepers and librarians of the biological information accumulated from eons of harvesting 'information' from an ever changing plentitude of biological possibilities. This information is stored within many levels of biosystem and are all connected by the viral ocean in which the overall biosystem is immersed.
It is creatures like these along with long living organisms like trees and fungi that are at the heart of the biosystem while the human species seems doomed to be little more than a brief biological storm arising and passing away in but a few minutes of geological time. We are no longer talking about a universe born from simplicity and its slow progression towards consciousness of which we are the ultimate manifestation.
Consciousness is the fundamental universal force that gives rise to the biological reality we inhabit. Most everything around us has consciousness and it flows through the underlying fabric of our existence via 'fields' generated by metabolic life, much like how electricity moves along a wire...flowing via the field surrounding the wire and not really within the wire itself. It is what is perceiving the perceptual experience created within the cartesian theatre of our human mind. It is the cortical thalamic complex that creates the unique type of perceptual experience that humans have. There is nothing unique about human consciousness only our perceptual experience. The human experience does not represent any type of progression or evolution of consciousness along an evolutionary timeline.
The only thing modern humans bring to the table is their own unique type of perceptual experience which is initiating behaviors that results in biological information that will find its way throughout the biome and will be stored for eons to come and long after we as a species are gone. The introduction of plastics into the ecology represents a new type of information that the natural biological world is already starting to use in many creative and unexpected ways.
A lion consuming a deer is not unlike 2 galaxies colliding. When one animal eats another 2 very large populations of trillions of separate and specialized cellular organisms merge together combining all their biological information as it is being generated in real time. This biological material is processed within the lion and then the viral components and other transgenic organisms move this information between different creatures picking up bits of information and moving it around the biome to be integrated into existing info and/or stored for later retrieval and integration. Very little information is lost when the biosystem is working correctly. When it is not working properly then much information can be permanently lost very quickly. We see this as viruses mutate as they pick up new pieces as the processes of recombination unfold. In times of biological instability plagues are common as insects and rodents are very effective means of consuming this biological information before it is lost due to factors such as changing climatic conditions producing famine. The goal is not evolution or progress but the maintenance of a repository of biological information that allows the biosystem to self regulate its morphology and metabolism. If the organisms that act as gatekeepers, storehouses and librarians are lost then the whole biosystem will collapse.
It is the fundamental energy of consciousness as it 'flows' through metabolic life that powers the biosphere. Earths metabolism and morphology may not look like anything resembling how morphology and metabolism may arise elsewhere in the universe. Unusual organic molecules are being found in the atmosphere of Titan. One such molecule has only been previously found in interstellar clouds. As these molecules break down fairly quickly something must be producing or metabolizing them to maintain their presence in atmosphere. Like electromagnetism if consciousness is also a fundamental force then we can expect it to be active in many different environments.
The nature of consciousness as I am describing it gives rise to one quality that would make space travel somewhat irrelevant. This quality is also behind much of the fuss and importance that humans have made about different types of 'spiritual' experience from their earliest beginnings. Our consciousness is not attached to our own perceptual experience but can move freely between all the perceptual experiences arising anywhere in the universe right now. Every point on the torus is connected to every other point. The perceptual experience of the lion and the deer can be experienced and perceived through the shared dynamics of our own metabolic entanglements as we are all made from the same stuff. It is the 'one topology' suggested to exist in Velinde's and Hooft's model of entropic gravity and the cellular automaton. Morphology is the universal vector for perceptual experience. Metabolism is the universal vector for consciousness.
Biological organisms produce heat/entropy. Think about how significant it is that life can live in external temps well below its own internal heat. Metabolic cellular processes are producing this heat. Biological organisms are not unlike little suns with their ability to produce internal heat. Our bodies are literally made up of trillions of little suns. From metabolism/consciousness arises morphology/perceptual experience. The positive energy generated by the activities of morphological organisms, each with their own spectrum of perceptual experience, counters the negative heat energy of the many metabolic states of consciousness which permeate the universe. When an organism is producing more entropy than the system can absorb that organism is removed or reabsorbed and replaced with one whose metabolism is in balance with rest of biome. When there is too much entropy things like the 'time-reversal of a phenomenon occurring naturally' are no longer available as part of our perceptual experience or vocabulary. Invariably most spiritual practices inadvertently result in the production of less entropy or in the balancing and stabilization of existing entropic forces.
The shamans of old may of been much more in tune with things then we give them credit for. It is a shame that most of their languages and way of life are gone. Like the American Indian I hold the view that the animals and plants around us are our older brothers and sisters and we should learn from them, take our place beside them and not seek to dominate and control but to share the world with them. We have become a species of attrition and seem incapable anymore of transcending our own nature. We cannot help but destroy what we cannot dominate and now we have turned on each other as there is very little left in the natural world for us to conquer. We are no more aware of what we are doing than the couple of meteorites that changed life forever for the dinosaurs. Maybe as Emerson suggested we have learned to ride in a carriage and lost the use of our legs while our giant follows us everywhere.
submitted by FunnyWay4369 to awakened [link] [comments]
Let us first briefly consider our ability to voice those questions and how is it we can formulate any questions at all. There has been some discussion recently on how we in essence 'hallucinate' our reality. While this is true to a large degree, it would be more accurate to say that we 'read' our reality. We process the stimulus we receive from external world and then transform it into language through the neural dynamics found in our cortical thalamic complex.
As we develop and mature our cortical/thalamic complex gradually creates a VR type experience for our consciousness, so gradually we no longer see what arrives at our eyes but rather is what is constructed from the direct sensory experience in the occipital lobe of the cortex - our visual center. By the time we are adults our awareness can no longer directly perceive the external world. It can only see and hear the reprocessed reality as it is reconstructed from direct sensory stimulus, in our cortex. As adults we never see the outside world. We don't see the mountain. We only see the image of a mountain created in our visual cortex. Only when we encounter something that cannot be fit into any existing linguistic category do we see it before filtering and reconstruction within cortical visual centers.
We linguistically interpret and assign meaning to raw stimulus within our cortex which determines our subsequent response and behaviors. Under normal conditions if what we are experiencing cannot be translated into our existing vocabulary then we cannot act coherently and we will either freeze up or become completely uninhibited and out of control. The parsing of external reality into language is a reflex and it is normally beyond our ability to perceive this neurological process as it is occurring.
The answers to the nature of life, why we are born and die and how we can ask such things all lead to the same place and if one question is answered then all of them will be. Therefore I will begin with the nature of life itself. I will use one of the tools that western science adopted early in its history and that is dissection. Lets first dissect life and look at it in the detail that has been revealed throughout the hundreds of years we have been using this tool.
The first medical dissections were performed at the University of Salerno in about the 12 century. Now all these years later we have dissected much and we now have little pieces of everything lying around everywhere. Now we are dissecting some very large things and some very small things. Dissection reveals information contained or hidden beneath the perceptual paywall of physical boundaries like the biological membrane of the cell, or an organ like our skin or the boundaries of the earths gravity. What we see in the modern world is the result of centuries of dissection and reassembly.
Now after all the thousands of years of humans history there is one item that has been produced more times than any other single thing made by humans and their ancestors...transistors. Most people have no idea what this item is or how it works yet humans have made more of it than anything else by orders of magnitude. These things also require more electrical energy than anything else ever mass produced by humans to perform their function as intended. This is a result of a history of dissection and reassembly without any underlying worldview or morality to guide the technological exploitation of the discoveries uncovered through the process of dissection and analysis.
Now at the pinnacle of our evolution we have completely remade ourselves and the world and the results appear to be anything but enlightening and emancipating. We have server farms that are using the energy of a small city and space tourism is well on its way. Unfortunately during our history of dissection we have ignored certain things discovered that do not support the underlying ideology motivating our technological innovations. The problem hasn't been in the scientific process but in what aspects of what we have discovered that have been followed up and not relegated to the the dark shelves of history and ignored. Our cultures idea of progress and evolution as a driving force of nature may be entirely misplaced and as 'superstitious' as any of the other antiquated views our culture has abandoned and transcended along the way.
The long delay in accepting the evidence of developmental neuronal death has been regarded as an historical enigma. Here is how the puzzle may now be solved.How revolutionary could be the idea that there is a plenitude of possibilities, from which orderly structure develops from disorderly initial conditions by a process of selective attrition. The universe is not learning, experimenting, progressing, evolving and neither are we. The universe is already full of a 'plentitude of possibilities' and it already is what it is and is already all it will ever be... as are we. Whatever it is we think we are observing it is not progress or evolution in any sense of the word but is rather the processes of 'selective attrition'. The universe is something else much more and we are a part of it and need to look no further than within our selves since we are also part of that 'fabric' of the universe. Humans are not standing atop the pyramid of life but we are only one of many different morphological manifestations of the natural processes of 'selective attrition' which find us only different and in no way better than the other morphological and metabolic forms and components of the earths biosystem and its holobionts.
Nineteenth-century biologists saw that development has an overriding telos, a direction and a gradual approach to completion of the embryo, and also saw a terminal regression and final dissolution of the adult; but a fallacy arose when the progression and regression, which coexist from early development, were separated in their minds.
Development was conceived in terms of progressive construction, of an epigenetic program—from simple to more complex. For every event in development they attempted to find prior conditions such that, given them, nothing else could happen.
The connections and interdependencies of events assure that the outcome is always the same. Such deterministic theories of development made it difficult to conceive of demolition of structures as part of normal development, and it was inconceivable that construction and destruction can occur simultaneously. It became necessary to regard regressive developmental processes as entirely purposeful and determined. For example, elimination of organs that play a role during development but are not required in the adult or regression of vestigial structures such as the tail in humans were viewed as part of the ontogenetic recapitulation of phylogeny. Regression in those cases is determined and is merely one of several fates: cellular determination may be either progressive or regressive.
The idea of progress in all spheres, perhaps most of all in the evolution and development of the vertebrate nervous system, has appealed to many thinkers since the 18th century. Such ideas change more slowly than the means of scientific production; thus new facts are made to serve old ideas. That is why the history of ideas, even if it does not exactly repeat itself, does such a good job of imitation.
In the realm of ideas held by neuroscientists, the idea of progressive construction, of hierarchically ordered programs of development, has always been dominant over the idea of a plenitude of possibilities, from which orderly structure develops from disorderly initial conditions by a process of selective attrition.
DEVELOPMENTAL NEUROBIOLOGY Fourth Edition Edited by MAHENDRA S. RAO MD and MARCUS JACOBSON (Page 396).
The processes of attrition affects 2 vectors in the realization of a particular existence from a plentitude of possibilities. In order for life and consciousness to exist in the earths biosystem 2 vectors must work together to maintain a fragile stasis between reoccurring periods of geological and cosmic instability. These vectors influence morphology and metabolism. Morphology is influenced and regulated by viruses and that still ill defined aspect of our biological reality they represent. Multicellular metabolism is regulated and influenced by chromosomal and nucleic genetics. When the environment changes then the viral component of the tree of life induces morphological changes in the life forms currently inhabiting the biosphere. Within the nucleus of the cell the genetic code is changed now producing biological forms that after development have the metabolism to exist in the new environment. Life consciousness has within it already all the plentitude of possibilities needed to exist in many different potential worlds and it doesn't need to evolve as it is already capable of arising in almost any conditions. Look at the many amazing ways that nature is already incorporating plastics into its ecology.
Unfortunately for us, our ill fated venture into space has triggered processes of attrition between these 2 vectors that are now adapting the morphology and metabolism of the earths biome in response to the time many of its lifeforms have already spent living in a gravity free environment. The different forms of life we have have brought too and from a gravity free environment are also changing. Switching from a model based on evolution and progress to one based on a preexisting plenitude of possibilities may affect the statistical significance of our predictive models. If we are not progressing and evolving towards something then what exactly is it we are doing with all our technologies but creating the conditions for our own morphological extinction?
The human species is an embodiment of the force of attrition in nature. As a species we have introduced a plentitude of possibilities into the biosphere by reshaping ourselves and our environment through our behaviors and in doing so we have fulfilled our biological function. The model is no longer based on the idea of progress so our behavior as a species need no longer be seen as progressive but as simply transformative. The organisms with the largest genomes are creatures like amoebas and lungfish which could be considered as very important gatekeepers and librarians of the biological information accumulated from eons of harvesting 'information' from an ever changing plentitude of biological possibilities. This information is stored within many levels of biosystem and are all connected by the viral ocean in which the overall biosystem is immersed.
It is creatures like these along with long living organisms like trees and fungi that are at the heart of the biosystem while the human species seems doomed to be little more than a brief biological storm arising and passing away in but a few minutes of geological time. We are no longer talking about a universe born from simplicity and its slow progression towards consciousness of which we are the ultimate manifestation.
Consciousness is the fundamental universal force that gives rise to the biological reality we inhabit. Most everything around us has consciousness and it flows through the underlying fabric of our existence via 'fields' generated by metabolic life, much like how electricity moves along a wire...flowing via the field surrounding the wire and not really within the wire itself. It is what is perceiving the perceptual experience created within the cartesian theatre of our human mind. It is the cortical thalamic complex that creates the unique type of perceptual experience that humans have. There is nothing unique about human consciousness only our perceptual experience. The human experience does not represent any type of progression or evolution of consciousness along an evolutionary timeline.
The only thing modern humans bring to the table is their own unique type of perceptual experience which is initiating behaviors that results in biological information that will find its way throughout the biome and will be stored for eons to come and long after we as a species are gone. The introduction of plastics into the ecology represents a new type of information that the natural biological world is already starting to use in many creative and unexpected ways.
The study of the basic philosophies or ideologies of scientists is very difficult because they are rarely articulated. They largely consist of silent assumptions that are taken so completely for granted that they are never mentioned. The historian of biology encounters some of his greatest difficulties when trying to ferret out such silent assumptions; and anyone who attempts to question these "eternal truths" encounters formidable resistance.What do we see when we look at a lion feeding on a fresh kill that is still alive while being eaten? Or a grizzly bear keeping its prey alive for days as it eats it? How about a herd of orca's slowly killing a blue whale? We look away in horror and disgust because we have no idea what it is we are actually observing. Our everyday perceptual experience provides no insight into what is actually happening as this untamed savagery unfolds before us. We have no words for the world as it really is since we very rarely ever perceive it as it really is before being processed and recreated in the cortical thalamic complex. That is what we see and we do not see the outside world as it really is.
In biology, for hundreds of years, a belief in the inheritance of acquired characters, a belief in irresistible progress and in a scala naturae, a belief in a fundamental difference between organic beings and the inanimate world, and a belief in an essentialistic structure of the world of phenomena are only a few of the silent assumptions that influenced the progress of science. Basic ideological polarities were involved in all of the great controversies in the history of biology, indicated by such alternatives as quantity vs. quality, reduction vs. emergence, essentialism vs. population thinking, monism vs. dualism, discontinuity vs. continuity, mechanism vs. vitalism, mechanism vs. teleology, statism vs. evolutionism, and others. Lyell's resistance to evolutionism was due not only to his natural theology but also to his essentialism, which simply did not allow for a variation of species "beyond the limits of their type." Coleman (1970) has shown to what large extent Bateson's resistance to the chromosome theory of inheritance was based on ideological reasons.
One can go so far as to claim that the resistance of a scientist to a new theory almost invariably is based on ideological reasons rather than on logical reasons or objections to the evidence on which the theory is based.
The Growth of Biological Thought: Diversity, Evolution, and Inheritance ERNST MAYR(Page 835).
A lion consuming a deer is not unlike 2 galaxies colliding. When one animal eats another 2 very large populations of trillions of separate and specialized cellular organisms merge together combining all their biological information as it is being generated in real time. This biological material is processed within the lion and then the viral components and other transgenic organisms move this information between different creatures picking up bits of information and moving it around the biome to be integrated into existing info and/or stored for later retrieval and integration. Very little information is lost when the biosystem is working correctly. When it is not working properly then much information can be permanently lost very quickly. We see this as viruses mutate as they pick up new pieces as the processes of recombination unfold. In times of biological instability plagues are common as insects and rodents are very effective means of consuming this biological information before it is lost due to factors such as changing climatic conditions producing famine. The goal is not evolution or progress but the maintenance of a repository of biological information that allows the biosystem to self regulate its morphology and metabolism. If the organisms that act as gatekeepers, storehouses and librarians are lost then the whole biosystem will collapse.
It is the fundamental energy of consciousness as it 'flows' through metabolic life that powers the biosphere. Earths metabolism and morphology may not look like anything resembling how morphology and metabolism may arise elsewhere in the universe. Unusual organic molecules are being found in the atmosphere of Titan. One such molecule has only been previously found in interstellar clouds. As these molecules break down fairly quickly something must be producing or metabolizing them to maintain their presence in atmosphere. Like electromagnetism if consciousness is also a fundamental force then we can expect it to be active in many different environments.
The nature of consciousness as I am describing it gives rise to one quality that would make space travel somewhat irrelevant. This quality is also behind much of the fuss and importance that humans have made about different types of 'spiritual' experience from their earliest beginnings. Our consciousness is not attached to our own perceptual experience but can move freely between all the perceptual experiences arising anywhere in the universe right now. Every point on the torus is connected to every other point. The perceptual experience of the lion and the deer can be experienced and perceived through the shared dynamics of our own metabolic entanglements as we are all made from the same stuff. It is the 'one topology' suggested to exist in Velinde's and Hooft's model of entropic gravity and the cellular automaton. Morphology is the universal vector for perceptual experience. Metabolism is the universal vector for consciousness.
Biological organisms produce heat/entropy. Think about how significant it is that life can live in external temps well below its own internal heat. Metabolic cellular processes are producing this heat. Biological organisms are not unlike little suns with their ability to produce internal heat. Our bodies are literally made up of trillions of little suns. From metabolism/consciousness arises morphology/perceptual experience. The positive energy generated by the activities of morphological organisms, each with their own spectrum of perceptual experience, counters the negative heat energy of the many metabolic states of consciousness which permeate the universe. When an organism is producing more entropy than the system can absorb that organism is removed or reabsorbed and replaced with one whose metabolism is in balance with rest of biome. When there is too much entropy things like the 'time-reversal of a phenomenon occurring naturally' are no longer available as part of our perceptual experience or vocabulary. Invariably most spiritual practices inadvertently result in the production of less entropy or in the balancing and stabilization of existing entropic forces.
The shamans of old may of been much more in tune with things then we give them credit for. It is a shame that most of their languages and way of life are gone. Like the American Indian I hold the view that the animals and plants around us are our older brothers and sisters and we should learn from them, take our place beside them and not seek to dominate and control but to share the world with them. We have become a species of attrition and seem incapable anymore of transcending our own nature. We cannot help but destroy what we cannot dominate and now we have turned on each other as there is very little left in the natural world for us to conquer. We are no more aware of what we are doing than the couple of meteorites that changed life forever for the dinosaurs. Maybe as Emerson suggested we have learned to ride in a carriage and lost the use of our legs while our giant follows us everywhere.
2024.05.19 15:36 JesusDaBeast Ignore this post if you want
I'm writing a recap of the beef in my own eyes, based on what has been shown out there.
If anyone sticks around to the end to read all this shit, if you have any comments on what I missed or should be edited, lmk. Also go touch grass.
* October 2023: Cole/Drake dropped First Person Shooter, which sees Drake take shots at Kenny and while he gives props to the Big 3, Cole also claims he’s the best rapper alive. The verse from Cole is a bit disingenuous, calling themselves the Big 3, but referring to himself as Ali and saying "me and Drizzy shits like the Super Bowl," which in turn refers to KDot as the third best in the group. Also calls himself "Muhammed Ali," who is considered the greatest to ever do it. In Jermaine's eyes, its Cole Drake Kenny.
* March 2024: Metro Boomin (rap producer) and Future drop “We Don’t Trust You,” an album which sees them take multiple shots at Drake. One song (Like that) features Kendrick, who is practically inviting him to throw gloves with Drake (and Cole). Responds to the Big 3 claims with "Fuck the Big 3, it's just Big Me." A lot of his verse is going at Drake directly, calling his best work a "Lyt pack," and playing up the MJ Prince comps with the "Prince outlived Mike Jack" bar.
(The Drake Metro beef goes back a bit. Drake wanted to be on Metro's album on the song 'Trance,' but Metro didn't like what Drake had submitted. Drake also submitted his verse late, which pissed off Metro, who ended up removing Drake's verse and keeping him off the album entirely. Drake does not take this news kindly, and ends up leaking his verse, which pisses Metro off further. He goes on a twitter rant, stating why Drake doesn't deserve a Grammy. When 21 Savage dropped his album "American Dream", Drake congratulated him on Insta, with a Screenshot that omitted Metro's name out of the credits. Which leads to Metro dropping "We Don't Trust You" and "Like That" as a result.)
Thank you u/CROW_is_best
* Two weeks later: Cole drops Might Delete Later, a 12 song EP. The last song (7 minute drill) is his response to Kendrick. However fans were pretty critical of his reply, with some claiming that as a diss it was pretty tame at best. Other fans claimed it was just a warning shot, and that it wasn't meant to be a diss back. A few days later, Cole apologized to Kendrick at Dreamville fest, and backed out of the battle. It is rumored that TDE member Schoolboy Q advised Cole to drop out of the beef, as it was between Kendrick/Drake, and it would get more personal.
* April 2024: 3 weeks after “Like That”, Metro and Future drop another album, “We STILL Don’t Trust You." This album features multiple artists who also throw disses at Drake. ASAP Rocky for dissing his BM, Weeknd calling out "leaks in the operation."
* A day after Metro/Future drop their 2nd album, Drake's “Push Ups” leaks online. This song clapped back at everyone that took shots at him on We don’t trust you, from Kendrick to Rick Ross to ASAP to Metro to Weeknd. In the song, Drake makes fun of Kendrick’s height, shoe size, his label split (supposedly he had to give TDE 50 of his publishing), and had a subtle jab at Kendrick’s wife Whitney.
* Drake also dropped a song that featured an AI voice of Tupac (Kendrick’s idol) and Snoop Dogg. Both west coast legends, but encouraging Kendrick to drop and stop being scared. A controversial track that was polarizing to say the least. Some fans praising its creativity in the rap beef, along with great verses from Drake. Others calling it disrespectful to a rap legend, and a bad precedent to allow AI in music. The Tupac estate ended up sending a C&D to Drake, who later removed the song from all socials.
(Note that here the public perception was for Kendrick to drop a reply, that Drake had come back correct with Push Ups and that if Kendrick was going to start a battle, he shouldn't duck when met with a reply)
* Two weeks after “Push Ups:" Kendrick drops “Euphoria,” which goes in on Drakes parenting ability, legitimacy in the rap game, and so on. A very solid dissection into the man we know as Drake, its a very good diss track that shows Kendrick's lyricism in full display. Also acknowledged that the industry is out to get Drake "wtf is this a 20v1," and told Metro to "shut yo hoe ass up and make some drums."
(He replied to this with an IG story of a merengue remix of that Metro bar, which was hilarious lmao. That and the band peforming outside Magic City in ATL were the funniest parts of the beef)
* A few days after, he followed up with “6:16 in LA" on Instagram. Not really a diss track in my opinion, it felt more like a track that had some warnings to Drake. Dot questions the loyalty of OVO and their legitimacy in the group, planting seeds of doubt in the mind of Drake. The cover this song is a black Maybach glove.
* Drake replied with “Family Matters” later that night, claiming Kendrick as a phony, attention whore, and worst of all a wife beater. Also claims that Dave Free (Kendrick’s manager), is the father of one of his kids. He drops this song with a full on music video, crushing the GKMC van, showing off the jewelry of rap legends like Pharrell and Pac, and so on.
(Honestly some of Drake's best work, and fans see it as such. Honestly some of his best writing since at least IYRTITL. That along with the beats make it a top 10 Drake song in my opinion. Some claim it's the best song in the diss. However, I just don't see it, for the reason I'm mentioning below:)
* Not even half an hour later: Kendrick drops “meet the grahams” which has heavy accusations. The cover of this song contains some of Drake's items. It includes: Ozempic/Adderrall/Zolpidem prescriptions, a receipt for the chains that Drake bought, presumably the ones in the FM video, and a visit card. Song claims Drake is a terrible person, has pedophilic thoughts/tendencies, runs a underground sex ring, and has a daughter that he’s hiding who’s at least 11 yrs old. It is a haunting track that sees Alchemist produce the beat.
(In my opinion, the clear turning point of this battle. For Kendrick to drop the time that it did, took the wind out of the sails that was Family Matters. And did it at a time where EVERYONE was reacting to it in real time. If the track didn't hit as hard as it did, it probably does not have an impact and Drake would have been the winner. Which is why IMO it's the best diss song in the battle. Despite the fact that daughter claims are mere allegations, he hit home on every other point that was made, with the cover art being proof of his verses holding truth. Which can't be said about any other diss in this battle, bar Euphoria.)
* He then dropped “Not Like Us” a day after FM/Meet the Grahams, which doubles down on the pedo claims, and also calls him a colonizer. This song is an instant hit and a West Coast banger, as it is currently the top song on the Billboard 200 as of the time writing this post.
(This song shifted the tide to "Drake is cooked" status. Prior to this song, people were still reeling from the back to back disses and asking that both sides bring receipts to the table. But with Not Like Us being a colossal hit, fans flocked to Kendrick's side. This track felt like the equivalent to a 3rd quarter run from the 2017 Warriors. Once it happens, you're done.)
To make matters worse, Metro also dropped a disstrumental called "BBL Drizzy," encouraging fans to drop a verse on the song, giving the winner 10k and a free Metro beat.
(Also a pivotal moment. If Drake wasn't losing the battle before, he lost the internet game with this combo. Now social media was clowning on him)
* A day later, Drake replied with "The Heart Part 6," a play on the The Heart series that Kendrick Lamar has. This song sees Drake claim that he set Kendrick up with fake information, and planted all this from the start. He also continues to apply pressure on the DV claims, and dispells the accusations made against him about him being a pedo. Also claims that he understands why Kendrick is so pent up, as Drake believes that Kendrick got molested as a child, referencing "Mother I Sober." Fans believe this track was a white flag of sorts, with the bars saying "You could drop a hundred more records, I'll see you later," and:
"That's why these pedophile raps and shit you so obsessed with, it's so excessive They actin' like it's so aggressive, but you just never known affection I don't wanna diss you anymore, this really got me second-guessin."
The last bar seems to question Kendrick's motives in the beef, and that Drake wants no parts in a battle that is really just projecting trauma. Regardless, the song was met with criticism for questionable lyrics and disses in the song. Shortly after, both sides alluded to move on, with Punch/Top of TDE declaring Kendrick the winner, and Drake saying "Good Battle, summer vibes up next," with the beef ending there.
submitted by JesusDaBeast to hiphop101 [link] [comments]
If anyone sticks around to the end to read all this shit, if you have any comments on what I missed or should be edited, lmk. Also go touch grass.
* October 2023: Cole/Drake dropped First Person Shooter, which sees Drake take shots at Kenny and while he gives props to the Big 3, Cole also claims he’s the best rapper alive. The verse from Cole is a bit disingenuous, calling themselves the Big 3, but referring to himself as Ali and saying "me and Drizzy shits like the Super Bowl," which in turn refers to KDot as the third best in the group. Also calls himself "Muhammed Ali," who is considered the greatest to ever do it. In Jermaine's eyes, its Cole Drake Kenny.
* March 2024: Metro Boomin (rap producer) and Future drop “We Don’t Trust You,” an album which sees them take multiple shots at Drake. One song (Like that) features Kendrick, who is practically inviting him to throw gloves with Drake (and Cole). Responds to the Big 3 claims with "Fuck the Big 3, it's just Big Me." A lot of his verse is going at Drake directly, calling his best work a "Lyt pack," and playing up the MJ Prince comps with the "Prince outlived Mike Jack" bar.
(The Drake Metro beef goes back a bit. Drake wanted to be on Metro's album on the song 'Trance,' but Metro didn't like what Drake had submitted. Drake also submitted his verse late, which pissed off Metro, who ended up removing Drake's verse and keeping him off the album entirely. Drake does not take this news kindly, and ends up leaking his verse, which pisses Metro off further. He goes on a twitter rant, stating why Drake doesn't deserve a Grammy. When 21 Savage dropped his album "American Dream", Drake congratulated him on Insta, with a Screenshot that omitted Metro's name out of the credits. Which leads to Metro dropping "We Don't Trust You" and "Like That" as a result.)
Thank you u/CROW_is_best
* Two weeks later: Cole drops Might Delete Later, a 12 song EP. The last song (7 minute drill) is his response to Kendrick. However fans were pretty critical of his reply, with some claiming that as a diss it was pretty tame at best. Other fans claimed it was just a warning shot, and that it wasn't meant to be a diss back. A few days later, Cole apologized to Kendrick at Dreamville fest, and backed out of the battle. It is rumored that TDE member Schoolboy Q advised Cole to drop out of the beef, as it was between Kendrick/Drake, and it would get more personal.
* April 2024: 3 weeks after “Like That”, Metro and Future drop another album, “We STILL Don’t Trust You." This album features multiple artists who also throw disses at Drake. ASAP Rocky for dissing his BM, Weeknd calling out "leaks in the operation."
* A day after Metro/Future drop their 2nd album, Drake's “Push Ups” leaks online. This song clapped back at everyone that took shots at him on We don’t trust you, from Kendrick to Rick Ross to ASAP to Metro to Weeknd. In the song, Drake makes fun of Kendrick’s height, shoe size, his label split (supposedly he had to give TDE 50 of his publishing), and had a subtle jab at Kendrick’s wife Whitney.
* Drake also dropped a song that featured an AI voice of Tupac (Kendrick’s idol) and Snoop Dogg. Both west coast legends, but encouraging Kendrick to drop and stop being scared. A controversial track that was polarizing to say the least. Some fans praising its creativity in the rap beef, along with great verses from Drake. Others calling it disrespectful to a rap legend, and a bad precedent to allow AI in music. The Tupac estate ended up sending a C&D to Drake, who later removed the song from all socials.
(Note that here the public perception was for Kendrick to drop a reply, that Drake had come back correct with Push Ups and that if Kendrick was going to start a battle, he shouldn't duck when met with a reply)
* Two weeks after “Push Ups:" Kendrick drops “Euphoria,” which goes in on Drakes parenting ability, legitimacy in the rap game, and so on. A very solid dissection into the man we know as Drake, its a very good diss track that shows Kendrick's lyricism in full display. Also acknowledged that the industry is out to get Drake "wtf is this a 20v1," and told Metro to "shut yo hoe ass up and make some drums."
(He replied to this with an IG story of a merengue remix of that Metro bar, which was hilarious lmao. That and the band peforming outside Magic City in ATL were the funniest parts of the beef)
* A few days after, he followed up with “6:16 in LA" on Instagram. Not really a diss track in my opinion, it felt more like a track that had some warnings to Drake. Dot questions the loyalty of OVO and their legitimacy in the group, planting seeds of doubt in the mind of Drake. The cover this song is a black Maybach glove.
* Drake replied with “Family Matters” later that night, claiming Kendrick as a phony, attention whore, and worst of all a wife beater. Also claims that Dave Free (Kendrick’s manager), is the father of one of his kids. He drops this song with a full on music video, crushing the GKMC van, showing off the jewelry of rap legends like Pharrell and Pac, and so on.
(Honestly some of Drake's best work, and fans see it as such. Honestly some of his best writing since at least IYRTITL. That along with the beats make it a top 10 Drake song in my opinion. Some claim it's the best song in the diss. However, I just don't see it, for the reason I'm mentioning below:)
* Not even half an hour later: Kendrick drops “meet the grahams” which has heavy accusations. The cover of this song contains some of Drake's items. It includes: Ozempic/Adderrall/Zolpidem prescriptions, a receipt for the chains that Drake bought, presumably the ones in the FM video, and a visit card. Song claims Drake is a terrible person, has pedophilic thoughts/tendencies, runs a underground sex ring, and has a daughter that he’s hiding who’s at least 11 yrs old. It is a haunting track that sees Alchemist produce the beat.
(In my opinion, the clear turning point of this battle. For Kendrick to drop the time that it did, took the wind out of the sails that was Family Matters. And did it at a time where EVERYONE was reacting to it in real time. If the track didn't hit as hard as it did, it probably does not have an impact and Drake would have been the winner. Which is why IMO it's the best diss song in the battle. Despite the fact that daughter claims are mere allegations, he hit home on every other point that was made, with the cover art being proof of his verses holding truth. Which can't be said about any other diss in this battle, bar Euphoria.)
* He then dropped “Not Like Us” a day after FM/Meet the Grahams, which doubles down on the pedo claims, and also calls him a colonizer. This song is an instant hit and a West Coast banger, as it is currently the top song on the Billboard 200 as of the time writing this post.
(This song shifted the tide to "Drake is cooked" status. Prior to this song, people were still reeling from the back to back disses and asking that both sides bring receipts to the table. But with Not Like Us being a colossal hit, fans flocked to Kendrick's side. This track felt like the equivalent to a 3rd quarter run from the 2017 Warriors. Once it happens, you're done.)
To make matters worse, Metro also dropped a disstrumental called "BBL Drizzy," encouraging fans to drop a verse on the song, giving the winner 10k and a free Metro beat.
(Also a pivotal moment. If Drake wasn't losing the battle before, he lost the internet game with this combo. Now social media was clowning on him)
* A day later, Drake replied with "The Heart Part 6," a play on the The Heart series that Kendrick Lamar has. This song sees Drake claim that he set Kendrick up with fake information, and planted all this from the start. He also continues to apply pressure on the DV claims, and dispells the accusations made against him about him being a pedo. Also claims that he understands why Kendrick is so pent up, as Drake believes that Kendrick got molested as a child, referencing "Mother I Sober." Fans believe this track was a white flag of sorts, with the bars saying "You could drop a hundred more records, I'll see you later," and:
"That's why these pedophile raps and shit you so obsessed with, it's so excessive They actin' like it's so aggressive, but you just never known affection I don't wanna diss you anymore, this really got me second-guessin."
The last bar seems to question Kendrick's motives in the beef, and that Drake wants no parts in a battle that is really just projecting trauma. Regardless, the song was met with criticism for questionable lyrics and disses in the song. Shortly after, both sides alluded to move on, with Punch/Top of TDE declaring Kendrick the winner, and Drake saying "Good Battle, summer vibes up next," with the beef ending there.
2024.05.19 14:14 hazu824 What is r/osudiscussion?
Hey osu! players, have you ever gotten stuck on a beatmap and wanted to brainstorm strategies? Maybe you have a burning question about the game's mechanics or the competitive scene? Or perhaps you just want to know more about osu! in general. This subreddit is your one-stop shop for all things osu! related. Whether you're a pro or a complete newbie tapping your way through the first tutorials, you're welcome here.
Feel free to post questions, share tips, post beatmaps, dissect recent updates, or just chat about your love for the game. We're all here to improve our skills, discuss osu!, and enjoy the rhythm game we love.
So, Welcome to osudiscussion
submitted by hazu824 to osudiscussion [link] [comments]
Feel free to post questions, share tips, post beatmaps, dissect recent updates, or just chat about your love for the game. We're all here to improve our skills, discuss osu!, and enjoy the rhythm game we love.
So, Welcome to osudiscussion
2024.05.19 12:03 John_Swift1 How I passed my SHRM-CP (without the Learning System)
As I was studying for the SHRM-CP exam, I came across several posts on here that were useful in helping me along the process, so I thought I would share some information on how I passed for future test takers. Please note that I did NOT purchase the SHRM Learning System. I studied by myself using free online resources and a few books I bought off Amazon. Prep/Study Time
I studied for about 4–5 weeks. On weekdays I studied between 1–3 hours per day, on the weekends I would do 4–6 hours per day, and during the last 7–10 days, I studied about 4–6 hours per day. Of course, I took a few nights off here and there as well. Keep in mind that you may need to study more or less given your work experience (I have a Master’s in I/O Psych and about 2 years of relevant work experience). To be honest, I wish I had started studying 2–3 weeks earlier. I would recommend giving yourself at least 1.5–2 months to prepare for this exam.
Resources:
B) see how the SHRM website defines it,
C) use one of my other resources to find a definition
D) go to Youtube to learn more.
2) SHRM-CP Exam by certexamdb Test Prep: You can find in here
I explored a few different practice exams, but this was by far the most useful. You cannot use this as your only resource, but it is a great start.
3) PHSPHR Professional in Human Resources Certification Study Guide by Anne Bogardus: You can actually find a PDF of this online for free. At some point throughout the study process (usually after a practice exam), you will likely realize that you need to go into more depth with certain concepts. This is where this study guide comes in. I didn’t read it word for word, but I spent a few hours skimming through it, went through some of the practice questions at the end of each chapter, and read in detail certain sections that I was weak on. This resource is very detailed but not too complicated which is great. I would highly recommend allocating 1–2 study days just for going through this resource. Keep in mind that it will provide you with more detail than you need, but you can just focus on the concepts that are relevant to the SHRM-CP.
4) SHRM-CP/SHRM-SCP Certification Practice Exams (All in One) by Kelly and Simon-Walters. About 10 days before my exam, I came across this resource which consisted of 500 questions that were broken down into each of the sections outlined in the SHRM BoCK. When I took the practice exam in the certexamdb Test Prep I scored terribly on the situational judgment questions. This book is GREAT for preparing you for those questions. Just keep in mind two things when using this resource:
It will consist of some questions with terms or concepts that you did not come across in any of the other resources — you can just ignore those (it’s extra information that you do not necessarily need), (2) the quick answer key has some inaccuracies (ignore it) but the answer key with detailed explanations is correct so make sure you use that when scoring yourself. Make sure you answer both the SHRM-CP and the SHRM-SCP questions (they are both relevant). This really helps with the situational judgment questions, but also with knowing how some of the terms and definitions apply in a real setting. When focusing on these questions, I realized that I had memorized some definitions, but I still didn’t know how to apply those concepts. This book helps with that.
5) Quizlet Flashcards created by other people — A lot of people have created quizlet sets (even from the Learning System) that they have uploaded. Those are free, so make sure you use them! Also, some people have even created practice sets for exam questions (which I think are from the learning system as well), so make sure you review those as well! Basic Study Tips: Unfortunately, without the Learning System, there is no single resource that you can use to prepare for this exam. Therefore, make sure you use a few resources just to make sure you get exposed to most of the material that will be on the exam. As you go through each resource, keep revising your flashcards and adding new ones. Make sure you periodically review flashcards as you go rather than waiting to cram everything in a week before the exam. When you go through practice questions, you will soon realize that you often need to know more than just the definition… you need to know when and how something applies as well. For example, you need to know what FMLA is, but you also need to know what the eligibility criteria is, when it is applicable, etc… I had one massive set of flashcards (about 500), and then I also had smaller sets of flashcards for some sections (e.g., a set for HR Laws, another set for Finance/Accounting terms). I would memorize using the smaller sets, but then I went through the giant set I had created a few days before my exam to make sure I knew everything. Do a ton of practice questions and understand why you got certain questions wrong.
6) SHRM LMS Books
Here’s a quick overview of the step-by-step process I took to study and prepare:
I finished the exam in a little over three hours. You get no breaks, but you can always take them as needed. Time is likely not going to be an issue. Here are some takeaways that I had about the exam: — There were surprisingly few questions on US Employment Laws & Regulations and Labor Unions. I spent a lot on these sections when studying, but there were not many questions at all on these topics. — The test questions were different than any of the practice exams I had taken (however you should be fine as long as you know the material) — The situational judgment questions can be exhausting with having to read 2–3 paragraphs for each 2–3 questions. — Make sure you carefully read the question. For example, you are often asked “what is the first step you would take” or “what strategy would you use.” These can be tricky, but they can also easily reveal the right answer. — No matter how hard you study, you will encounter a few questions where you come across terms that you’re unfamiliar with and you will have to guess blindly. Just try to eliminate what you do know is wrong and take your best guess. Don’t stress too much about it. — Use the highlight, strike through, and flagging options during the exam. It helps a lot. — Often, the correct answers for the situational judgment questions have something to do with (1) getting leadership buy-in, (2) having HR be a strategic partner, (3) making sure the action is aligned with the org’s mission and vision (4) HR being proactive, (5) doing a needs assessment of some sort, (6) having HR be some sort of facilitator.
submitted by John_Swift1 to HumanResourcesExam [link] [comments]
I studied for about 4–5 weeks. On weekdays I studied between 1–3 hours per day, on the weekends I would do 4–6 hours per day, and during the last 7–10 days, I studied about 4–6 hours per day. Of course, I took a few nights off here and there as well. Keep in mind that you may need to study more or less given your work experience (I have a Master’s in I/O Psych and about 2 years of relevant work experience). To be honest, I wish I had started studying 2–3 weeks earlier. I would recommend giving yourself at least 1.5–2 months to prepare for this exam.
Resources:
- SHRM BoCK — This is a free PDF that you can download off the SHRM website. I used this resource to guide my overall learning. I dissected the entire document and made flashcards on Quizlet for everything I did not know. In particular, I focused on the “key concepts” for each section and made sure I knew the definition of each term. There is also a glossary of terms and definitions at the end of the document, so I added all those terms into Quizlet as well. The glossary does not have every definition you will need to know, but it’s a good start. For the terms I could not find a definition for, I would either
B) see how the SHRM website defines it,
C) use one of my other resources to find a definition
D) go to Youtube to learn more.
2) SHRM-CP Exam by certexamdb Test Prep: You can find in here
I explored a few different practice exams, but this was by far the most useful. You cannot use this as your only resource, but it is a great start.
3) PHSPHR Professional in Human Resources Certification Study Guide by Anne Bogardus: You can actually find a PDF of this online for free. At some point throughout the study process (usually after a practice exam), you will likely realize that you need to go into more depth with certain concepts. This is where this study guide comes in. I didn’t read it word for word, but I spent a few hours skimming through it, went through some of the practice questions at the end of each chapter, and read in detail certain sections that I was weak on. This resource is very detailed but not too complicated which is great. I would highly recommend allocating 1–2 study days just for going through this resource. Keep in mind that it will provide you with more detail than you need, but you can just focus on the concepts that are relevant to the SHRM-CP.
4) SHRM-CP/SHRM-SCP Certification Practice Exams (All in One) by Kelly and Simon-Walters. About 10 days before my exam, I came across this resource which consisted of 500 questions that were broken down into each of the sections outlined in the SHRM BoCK. When I took the practice exam in the certexamdb Test Prep I scored terribly on the situational judgment questions. This book is GREAT for preparing you for those questions. Just keep in mind two things when using this resource:
It will consist of some questions with terms or concepts that you did not come across in any of the other resources — you can just ignore those (it’s extra information that you do not necessarily need), (2) the quick answer key has some inaccuracies (ignore it) but the answer key with detailed explanations is correct so make sure you use that when scoring yourself. Make sure you answer both the SHRM-CP and the SHRM-SCP questions (they are both relevant). This really helps with the situational judgment questions, but also with knowing how some of the terms and definitions apply in a real setting. When focusing on these questions, I realized that I had memorized some definitions, but I still didn’t know how to apply those concepts. This book helps with that.
5) Quizlet Flashcards created by other people — A lot of people have created quizlet sets (even from the Learning System) that they have uploaded. Those are free, so make sure you use them! Also, some people have even created practice sets for exam questions (which I think are from the learning system as well), so make sure you review those as well! Basic Study Tips: Unfortunately, without the Learning System, there is no single resource that you can use to prepare for this exam. Therefore, make sure you use a few resources just to make sure you get exposed to most of the material that will be on the exam. As you go through each resource, keep revising your flashcards and adding new ones. Make sure you periodically review flashcards as you go rather than waiting to cram everything in a week before the exam. When you go through practice questions, you will soon realize that you often need to know more than just the definition… you need to know when and how something applies as well. For example, you need to know what FMLA is, but you also need to know what the eligibility criteria is, when it is applicable, etc… I had one massive set of flashcards (about 500), and then I also had smaller sets of flashcards for some sections (e.g., a set for HR Laws, another set for Finance/Accounting terms). I would memorize using the smaller sets, but then I went through the giant set I had created a few days before my exam to make sure I knew everything. Do a ton of practice questions and understand why you got certain questions wrong.
6) SHRM LMS Books
Here’s a quick overview of the step-by-step process I took to study and prepare:
- Go through SHRM-BoCK and create flashcards
- Go through and memorize SHRM Learning System Flashcards (You can find these on Quizlet and search “SHRM Learning System”)
- Take certexamdb Test Prep Practice Exam, review, and identify weak areas.
- Go through the Bogardus PHSPHR book and focus on weak areas (fill in flashcards)
- Memorize the newly created flashcards for weak areas, flag ones that you continually get wrong or confused with.
- YouTube hazy concepts and terms to gain a richer understanding, use Khan Academy when applicable.
- Retake certexamdb Practice Exam
- Go through questions in the book by Kelly and Simon-Walters
- Identify weak areas, read through explanations, create and memorize flash cards as needed
- A few days before my exam, focus on my large stack of flashcards, go through other people’s flashcard sets, and go through practice exams on Quizlet.
I finished the exam in a little over three hours. You get no breaks, but you can always take them as needed. Time is likely not going to be an issue. Here are some takeaways that I had about the exam: — There were surprisingly few questions on US Employment Laws & Regulations and Labor Unions. I spent a lot on these sections when studying, but there were not many questions at all on these topics. — The test questions were different than any of the practice exams I had taken (however you should be fine as long as you know the material) — The situational judgment questions can be exhausting with having to read 2–3 paragraphs for each 2–3 questions. — Make sure you carefully read the question. For example, you are often asked “what is the first step you would take” or “what strategy would you use.” These can be tricky, but they can also easily reveal the right answer. — No matter how hard you study, you will encounter a few questions where you come across terms that you’re unfamiliar with and you will have to guess blindly. Just try to eliminate what you do know is wrong and take your best guess. Don’t stress too much about it. — Use the highlight, strike through, and flagging options during the exam. It helps a lot. — Often, the correct answers for the situational judgment questions have something to do with (1) getting leadership buy-in, (2) having HR be a strategic partner, (3) making sure the action is aligned with the org’s mission and vision (4) HR being proactive, (5) doing a needs assessment of some sort, (6) having HR be some sort of facilitator.
2024.05.18 20:45 Obvious_Outsider Character Analysis: Rean Schwarzer (How do I Feel About Rean?)
This post contains spoilers from CS1-Reverie, including Reverie’s post-game content.
Disclaimer: The analysis portion of the Background section contains discussion of mental illness. I am not an expert in mental health, or any health field for that matter. I’m just a guy applying his own perception, lived experiences, and surface-level knowledge to interpreting Rean’s arc. I probably don’t even need to be making this disclaimer, but I felt like it.
Last year, I made this post asking how the members of this sub felt about Cold Steel’s protagonist: the one and only Rean Schwarzer. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of engagement it got, as well as the diversity of opinion expressed in the comments. There were those who loved him, those who were neutral on him, and a few who just couldn’t stand him. At the time, I had just finished CS2, so there was a ton about Rean I wasn’t privy to. However, now that I’ve played Reverie and am fully caught up with the first half of the series, I have a much fuller picture of him. Since so many of you were kind enough to offer up your takes on Rean back then, I figured I’d express my own thoughts on him in the form of a proper analysis. Without further ado, let’s begin!
Although Rean’s new family was loving and supportive, his new life was not without struggle. The boy’s sudden, mysterious appearance in the Schwarzer household made the family - particularly Teo - the subject of gossip and controversy among other nobles. Some believed Rean was Teo’s illegitimate child, while others openly lambasted Teo for his willingness to potentially allow a commoner into the nobility’s ranks. Teo essentially became an outcast among his noble peers, his family’s name tarnished by rumor. Rean, for his part, came to believe he was at fault for this situation, and the subsequent guilt would plague him for many years.
Rean’s self-worth was further challenged by another, more personal problem that arose during his childhood. At age nine, Rean watched an unknown monster attack his younger sister, Elise, and the stress caused an innate “ogre power” within him to manifest. Rean fell into a blind rage, savagely killing the monster. When he returned to his senses, Rean was traumatized by the scene he had left behind, and by the discovery of this new, violent side of him he could not control.
Two years later, Rean became an apprentice of the legendary swordsman Yun Ka-fai, founder of the Eight Leaves One Blade school, hoping to learn how to control his ogre powers. Despite showing great promise as a swordsman, Rean was unable to develop control over his ogre power, and Yun was eventually forced to cut short Rean’s training for unrelated reasons. Although the beginner-rank Rean continued to train on his own, the damage to his psyche was too deep-seated for him to fix alone. He believed he was nothing but a burden and a monster, undeserving of love or happiness. This guilt and self-loathing spurred him to always put others’ needs and well-being above his own, believing himself less important than anyone else. This self-sacrificial behavior became a recurring problem for Rean over the course of his adolescence and early adulthood.
In S.1204, at age 17, Rean enrolled at the prestigious Thors Military Academy in eastern Erebonia. He, along with eight others, became part of Class VII, Thors’s first socially integrated graduating class. Although he still struggled with low self-worth, Rean thrived in this new environment, quickly befriending his classmates and discovering his natural-born ability as a leader. By this time, Rean’s real father, Giliath Osborne, had become Chancellor of Erebonia and was being targeted for death by the Imperial Liberation Front - an anti-Osborne terrorist group. The ILF was a recurring presence in Class VII’s lives during their first school year, and the two groups clashed frequently. At the end of the year, Rean’s life took a dramatic turn when he unexpectedly became the Awakener for the Divine Knight Valimar before watching the ILF - led by his friend Crow Armbrust - seemingly assassinate Osborne and spark a nationwide civil war. Thors came under siege by Crow shortly thereafter, and in the chaos, Rean was forcibly separated from his classmates.
One month later, Rean awoke in the Eisengard Mountain Range outside his adopted hometown, Ymir. Now armed with Valimar’s power, Rean rendezvoused with his family and set out to reunite Class VII. Although he succeeded, Rean was later captured by the Noble Alliance and was held captive alongside Erebonian princess Alfin Reise Arnor. With Alfin’s encouragement, Rean freed the two of them using his ogre powers and rejoined Class VII onboard the imperial family’s airship Courageous. Thanks to Alfin and his bond with his classmates, Rean learned to stop fearing his ogre powers and started opening up more to those closest to him. Using the Courageous, Class VII successfully led a mission to retake Thors before ultimately confronting the Noble Alliance’s leader, Duke Cayenne, and stopping his plan to use the Infernal Castle to win the war. At the same time, new drama entered Rean’s life: Shortly after stopping Duke Cayenne’s plan, Crow unexpectedly died and Osborne was revealed to still be alive - and Rean’s real father. Rean, for his part, was formally recognized by the imperial government for his role in ending the war and became a national hero. This was, however, merely a ploy to pressure Rean into obeying Osborne’s wishes, and it succeeded, as Rean subsequently became an operative in Erebonia’s conquest of Crossbell. It was during this time that he became acquainted with Crossbell Special Support Section leader Lloyd Bannings.After Crossbell’s annexation, Rean fought in the Northern War, which resulted in Erebonia annexing North Ambria. He partook in the siege of Haliask, where he fought archaisms using Valimar. During this stretch of the war, Rean lost control of his ogre powers and was rendered unconscious for three days. As a result, he once again lost faith in his ability to control himself, and swore off the use of his ogre power.
In April S.1206, roughly 1.5 years after the civil war’s end, Rean started a job as instructor of a “new Class VII” at Thors’s new branch campus in western Erebonia. At the branch campus, Rean bonded with his students and fellow faculty while also taking on assignments from the imperial government. It was also during this time that Osborne’s plan to trigger the Great Twilight started unfolding, causing Rean, his students, and his comrades to regularly butt heads with jaegers, Ouroboros, and powerful cryptids. Ultimately, however, Osborne outmaneuvered all attempts by Rean, Olivert, and others to stop him; the Courageous was destroyed by a bomb with Olivert still onboard, Rean’s forces were spread thin through various battles, and Rean himself was forced to watch as Millium Orion was killed and turned into a Sword of the End. Finally at his wit’s end, Rean suffered a mental breakdown and was consumed by his ogre powers, causing him to violently trigger the Great Twilight himself before being taken captive by Osborne and Ishmelga.
After a short period of captivity, Rean was freed by Class VII and their allies. He, along with the SSS and the Liberl Bracer Guild, declined to become part of Musse Egret’s Operation Mille Mirage, instead choosing to oppose Osborne their own way. Rean, as Valimar’s Awakener, decided to partake in the Rivalries to reform the Great One, in hopes of defeating Ishmelga’s curse. He gradually defeated and absorbed power from the other Awakeners until, finally, during Operation Jormungandr, he defeated Osborne and Ishmelga, becoming the pilot of a corrupted Great One. It is at this time when two different futures unfolded: In one, Rean flew the Great One beyond Zemuria’s atmosphere to remove Ishmelga from the continent. In the other, Rean used the power of the Holy Beast of Earth to give Ishmelga’s curse a corporeal form, allowing him and his friends to destroy it. It was this latter future that became Zemuria’s reality, while the former remained hypothetical and unrealized.
Many months after Ishmelga’s defeat, in S.1207, Rean became involved in the incident involving Crossbell and Elysium. While combating enemy forces in the Nord Highlands, Rean started undergoing assimilation with Ishmelga-Rean, an alternate version of himself created by Elysium based on the unrealized timeline from when Ishmelga was first beaten. Later, during the final confrontation with Ishmelga-Rean, the real Rean saw visions of his other self’s sacrifice and finally grasped the devastating effects his past martyr-like behavior had on those he loved. He vowed to make a change before eliminating Ishmelga-Rean, stopping the assimilation.
Sometime after the clash with Elysium, Rean visited Longlai in eastern Calvard with his family, secretly hoping to track down Yun while there. Instead, he encountered members of the Ikaruga jaeger corps, who informed him that Yun was not in Longlai before departing. Rean has since contented himself with his current life as a Thors instructor, sensing that the next incident to befall Zemuria will involve not him, but an entirely different group of heroes.
Analysis: From even a cursory glance at Rean’s story, it is clear he endured much distress and trauma at a young age, and in my view, the result was deep-seated mental illness - namely depression. I am not a psychologist, but I would wager that the violent manner in which his five year-old self lost his home, his mother, and, almost, his own life, was horrific enough for his mind to block all memory of that period as a defense mechanism. This would help explain how Rean did not remember his real parentage until his encounter with Osborne in CS2 jogged his memory. Further stressing Rean were the controversies surrounding his adoption, which were not at all his fault but still interpreted as such by him, and the sudden, gory manner in which he learned of his ogre power. With such a potent combination of stressors burdening his young mind, it is no surprise to me that it took Rean such a long time to overcome his feelings of guilt and worthlessness. He was saddled with depression during the most formative period of his life, and like any mental illness, depression cannot be overcome with just one or two instances of positive reinforcement. It is often something people have to live with for many years, with periods of relative difficulty and relative ease. Looking at it this way, it makes sense for Rean’s arc to have taken as long as it did.
Side note: Obviously, Rean’s story is not the most realistic depiction of depression in fiction, but the manner in which it unfolds and is presented is still enough for me to take it seriously as a journey of struggling with mental health. When Rean receives support or encouragement from his friends and family, it helps in the short-term, but does little to erode the larger problem because that simply isn’t enough. Further, Rean’s progress is not linear, but is marked with occasional setbacks: In CS2, he finally learns to stop fearing his ogre power, but in CS3, we see that he is still vulnerable to losing control of it, and he does so during the Northern War and in the finale of that game. He receives a pendant (“meds?”) and training (“therapy?”) to control said power in CS3, but he still struggles with it. In CS4’s “bad” ending, even after everything he has gone through, Rean falls back into his old habits of self-sacrifice, because that’s how “baked-in” his problems are; he doesn’t even see the issue because he’s lived that way for so long. It is CS3’s finale that is the most striking part of Rean’s journey to me: In my eyes, it is the same as Rean having a mental breakdown, too overcome by his own emotional turmoil to control himself. He becomes consumed by his own demons, literally and figuratively, and it takes the collective effort of his loved ones in CS4 to bring him back to stability.
It is also fitting that Rean’s big turning point - the moment in Reverie where he sees the pain his martyr-esque behavior causes others - is as dramatic as the instances that facilitated Rean’s internal struggle to begin with. What I particularly appreciate about this chunk of Rean’s arc is that it is presented as Rean finally realizing the change he needs to make, rather than him being instantly cured of his ailments. It is simply him resolving to change his outlook on himself and his relationships, and that feels more grounded to me than any alternative route the writers could have taken.
Rean is also extraordinarily perceptive thanks to his Unclouded Eye technique, which he learned from Yun Ka-fai. This allows him to set aside any preconceived notions or prejudices he may have and accurately discern a person’s true nature. His training also allows him to notice things others may not, such as objects moving at high speed or unseen people/creatures in his vicinity. At the same time, there are things he struggles to pick up on, namely when it comes to others’ feelings regarding him. Rean often fumbles when it comes to romantic/intimate interactions with the girls in his life, either unintentionally flustering them or failing to understand how deep their feelings run. Rean also fails to understand how his martyr behavior hurts those he cares about, despite numerous incidents ending with people refusing to abandon him and calling him out for perceived recklessness.
Analysis: One thing I’ve always appreciated about Rean is that, despite his serious personal problems, he never comes off as whiny, annoying, cringe, etc. He knows how to compartmentalize and portray an air of confidence and amicability; I would attribute this to his noble upbringing, as we see similar behavior in other noble characters like Laura and Jusis. His natural ability as a speaker and leader are reminiscent of Osborne’s, as is his penchant for self-sacrificial behavior; Osborne was, after all, willing to bond with Ishmelga, literally give his heart to his son, and turn himself into a villain for the sake of his people.
There are considerable differences between Rean and the three protagonists who preceded him. He is almost the antithesis of Estelle: She is lively, spontaneous, and unafraid to open up to others emotionally, Rean is more reserved and measured, and is initially guarded, though he does learn to express himself over time. While he does share similar backstory details to Kevin, their outward personalities are starkly different, with Kevin being suave and laid-back and Rean being more serious and passive. As for Lloyd, while Rean does share his kindness, perception, and leadership ability, the two do have their differences as well. Lloyd’s arc is about starting from nothing and overcoming barriers, gaining strength along the way. He is driven by a commitment to justice and a zealous patriotic spirit. Rean, on the other hand, starts out with great power at a young age but struggles to control it, making his journey more internal and personal than Lloyd’s. Additionally, his fighting spirit comes not from burning passion, but from steely nerve and trust in his companions. And, of course, he is not morally gray like his successor, Van.
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Disclaimer: The analysis portion of the Background section contains discussion of mental illness. I am not an expert in mental health, or any health field for that matter. I’m just a guy applying his own perception, lived experiences, and surface-level knowledge to interpreting Rean’s arc. I probably don’t even need to be making this disclaimer, but I felt like it.
Last year, I made this post asking how the members of this sub felt about Cold Steel’s protagonist: the one and only Rean Schwarzer. I was pleasantly surprised by the amount of engagement it got, as well as the diversity of opinion expressed in the comments. There were those who loved him, those who were neutral on him, and a few who just couldn’t stand him. At the time, I had just finished CS2, so there was a ton about Rean I wasn’t privy to. However, now that I’ve played Reverie and am fully caught up with the first half of the series, I have a much fuller picture of him. Since so many of you were kind enough to offer up your takes on Rean back then, I figured I’d express my own thoughts on him in the form of a proper analysis. Without further ado, let’s begin!
Background
Rean Schwarzer (born Rean Osborne) is the main protagonist of Trails of Cold Steel I, II, III, and IV, as well as one of the three main protagonists of Trails into Reverie. He was born in S.1187 to Erebonian commoners Brigadier General Giliath and Kasia Osborne. Rean’s father was a brilliant leader and strategist, but his commoner status made him an enemy of the military’s nobles. This led to Giliath’s home being attacked by jaegers when Rean was five, resulting in Kasia’s death and Rean’s heart being punctured by shrapnel. In a desperate bid to save his son’s life, Giliath made a deal with Ishmelga, the Ebon Knight, to become its Awakener and used its power to transplant his own heart into Rean’s body. Due to his deal with Ishmelga, Giliath was forced to give up custody of Rean, entrusting him to the care of Baron Teo Schwarzer. As a result, “Rean Osborne,” the son of a commoner military officer, became “Rean Schwarzer,” the adopted son of a minor noble family.Although Rean’s new family was loving and supportive, his new life was not without struggle. The boy’s sudden, mysterious appearance in the Schwarzer household made the family - particularly Teo - the subject of gossip and controversy among other nobles. Some believed Rean was Teo’s illegitimate child, while others openly lambasted Teo for his willingness to potentially allow a commoner into the nobility’s ranks. Teo essentially became an outcast among his noble peers, his family’s name tarnished by rumor. Rean, for his part, came to believe he was at fault for this situation, and the subsequent guilt would plague him for many years.
Rean’s self-worth was further challenged by another, more personal problem that arose during his childhood. At age nine, Rean watched an unknown monster attack his younger sister, Elise, and the stress caused an innate “ogre power” within him to manifest. Rean fell into a blind rage, savagely killing the monster. When he returned to his senses, Rean was traumatized by the scene he had left behind, and by the discovery of this new, violent side of him he could not control.
Two years later, Rean became an apprentice of the legendary swordsman Yun Ka-fai, founder of the Eight Leaves One Blade school, hoping to learn how to control his ogre powers. Despite showing great promise as a swordsman, Rean was unable to develop control over his ogre power, and Yun was eventually forced to cut short Rean’s training for unrelated reasons. Although the beginner-rank Rean continued to train on his own, the damage to his psyche was too deep-seated for him to fix alone. He believed he was nothing but a burden and a monster, undeserving of love or happiness. This guilt and self-loathing spurred him to always put others’ needs and well-being above his own, believing himself less important than anyone else. This self-sacrificial behavior became a recurring problem for Rean over the course of his adolescence and early adulthood.
In S.1204, at age 17, Rean enrolled at the prestigious Thors Military Academy in eastern Erebonia. He, along with eight others, became part of Class VII, Thors’s first socially integrated graduating class. Although he still struggled with low self-worth, Rean thrived in this new environment, quickly befriending his classmates and discovering his natural-born ability as a leader. By this time, Rean’s real father, Giliath Osborne, had become Chancellor of Erebonia and was being targeted for death by the Imperial Liberation Front - an anti-Osborne terrorist group. The ILF was a recurring presence in Class VII’s lives during their first school year, and the two groups clashed frequently. At the end of the year, Rean’s life took a dramatic turn when he unexpectedly became the Awakener for the Divine Knight Valimar before watching the ILF - led by his friend Crow Armbrust - seemingly assassinate Osborne and spark a nationwide civil war. Thors came under siege by Crow shortly thereafter, and in the chaos, Rean was forcibly separated from his classmates.
One month later, Rean awoke in the Eisengard Mountain Range outside his adopted hometown, Ymir. Now armed with Valimar’s power, Rean rendezvoused with his family and set out to reunite Class VII. Although he succeeded, Rean was later captured by the Noble Alliance and was held captive alongside Erebonian princess Alfin Reise Arnor. With Alfin’s encouragement, Rean freed the two of them using his ogre powers and rejoined Class VII onboard the imperial family’s airship Courageous. Thanks to Alfin and his bond with his classmates, Rean learned to stop fearing his ogre powers and started opening up more to those closest to him. Using the Courageous, Class VII successfully led a mission to retake Thors before ultimately confronting the Noble Alliance’s leader, Duke Cayenne, and stopping his plan to use the Infernal Castle to win the war. At the same time, new drama entered Rean’s life: Shortly after stopping Duke Cayenne’s plan, Crow unexpectedly died and Osborne was revealed to still be alive - and Rean’s real father. Rean, for his part, was formally recognized by the imperial government for his role in ending the war and became a national hero. This was, however, merely a ploy to pressure Rean into obeying Osborne’s wishes, and it succeeded, as Rean subsequently became an operative in Erebonia’s conquest of Crossbell. It was during this time that he became acquainted with Crossbell Special Support Section leader Lloyd Bannings.After Crossbell’s annexation, Rean fought in the Northern War, which resulted in Erebonia annexing North Ambria. He partook in the siege of Haliask, where he fought archaisms using Valimar. During this stretch of the war, Rean lost control of his ogre powers and was rendered unconscious for three days. As a result, he once again lost faith in his ability to control himself, and swore off the use of his ogre power.
In April S.1206, roughly 1.5 years after the civil war’s end, Rean started a job as instructor of a “new Class VII” at Thors’s new branch campus in western Erebonia. At the branch campus, Rean bonded with his students and fellow faculty while also taking on assignments from the imperial government. It was also during this time that Osborne’s plan to trigger the Great Twilight started unfolding, causing Rean, his students, and his comrades to regularly butt heads with jaegers, Ouroboros, and powerful cryptids. Ultimately, however, Osborne outmaneuvered all attempts by Rean, Olivert, and others to stop him; the Courageous was destroyed by a bomb with Olivert still onboard, Rean’s forces were spread thin through various battles, and Rean himself was forced to watch as Millium Orion was killed and turned into a Sword of the End. Finally at his wit’s end, Rean suffered a mental breakdown and was consumed by his ogre powers, causing him to violently trigger the Great Twilight himself before being taken captive by Osborne and Ishmelga.
After a short period of captivity, Rean was freed by Class VII and their allies. He, along with the SSS and the Liberl Bracer Guild, declined to become part of Musse Egret’s Operation Mille Mirage, instead choosing to oppose Osborne their own way. Rean, as Valimar’s Awakener, decided to partake in the Rivalries to reform the Great One, in hopes of defeating Ishmelga’s curse. He gradually defeated and absorbed power from the other Awakeners until, finally, during Operation Jormungandr, he defeated Osborne and Ishmelga, becoming the pilot of a corrupted Great One. It is at this time when two different futures unfolded: In one, Rean flew the Great One beyond Zemuria’s atmosphere to remove Ishmelga from the continent. In the other, Rean used the power of the Holy Beast of Earth to give Ishmelga’s curse a corporeal form, allowing him and his friends to destroy it. It was this latter future that became Zemuria’s reality, while the former remained hypothetical and unrealized.
Many months after Ishmelga’s defeat, in S.1207, Rean became involved in the incident involving Crossbell and Elysium. While combating enemy forces in the Nord Highlands, Rean started undergoing assimilation with Ishmelga-Rean, an alternate version of himself created by Elysium based on the unrealized timeline from when Ishmelga was first beaten. Later, during the final confrontation with Ishmelga-Rean, the real Rean saw visions of his other self’s sacrifice and finally grasped the devastating effects his past martyr-like behavior had on those he loved. He vowed to make a change before eliminating Ishmelga-Rean, stopping the assimilation.
Sometime after the clash with Elysium, Rean visited Longlai in eastern Calvard with his family, secretly hoping to track down Yun while there. Instead, he encountered members of the Ikaruga jaeger corps, who informed him that Yun was not in Longlai before departing. Rean has since contented himself with his current life as a Thors instructor, sensing that the next incident to befall Zemuria will involve not him, but an entirely different group of heroes.
Analysis: From even a cursory glance at Rean’s story, it is clear he endured much distress and trauma at a young age, and in my view, the result was deep-seated mental illness - namely depression. I am not a psychologist, but I would wager that the violent manner in which his five year-old self lost his home, his mother, and, almost, his own life, was horrific enough for his mind to block all memory of that period as a defense mechanism. This would help explain how Rean did not remember his real parentage until his encounter with Osborne in CS2 jogged his memory. Further stressing Rean were the controversies surrounding his adoption, which were not at all his fault but still interpreted as such by him, and the sudden, gory manner in which he learned of his ogre power. With such a potent combination of stressors burdening his young mind, it is no surprise to me that it took Rean such a long time to overcome his feelings of guilt and worthlessness. He was saddled with depression during the most formative period of his life, and like any mental illness, depression cannot be overcome with just one or two instances of positive reinforcement. It is often something people have to live with for many years, with periods of relative difficulty and relative ease. Looking at it this way, it makes sense for Rean’s arc to have taken as long as it did.
Side note: Obviously, Rean’s story is not the most realistic depiction of depression in fiction, but the manner in which it unfolds and is presented is still enough for me to take it seriously as a journey of struggling with mental health. When Rean receives support or encouragement from his friends and family, it helps in the short-term, but does little to erode the larger problem because that simply isn’t enough. Further, Rean’s progress is not linear, but is marked with occasional setbacks: In CS2, he finally learns to stop fearing his ogre power, but in CS3, we see that he is still vulnerable to losing control of it, and he does so during the Northern War and in the finale of that game. He receives a pendant (“meds?”) and training (“therapy?”) to control said power in CS3, but he still struggles with it. In CS4’s “bad” ending, even after everything he has gone through, Rean falls back into his old habits of self-sacrifice, because that’s how “baked-in” his problems are; he doesn’t even see the issue because he’s lived that way for so long. It is CS3’s finale that is the most striking part of Rean’s journey to me: In my eyes, it is the same as Rean having a mental breakdown, too overcome by his own emotional turmoil to control himself. He becomes consumed by his own demons, literally and figuratively, and it takes the collective effort of his loved ones in CS4 to bring him back to stability.
It is also fitting that Rean’s big turning point - the moment in Reverie where he sees the pain his martyr-esque behavior causes others - is as dramatic as the instances that facilitated Rean’s internal struggle to begin with. What I particularly appreciate about this chunk of Rean’s arc is that it is presented as Rean finally realizing the change he needs to make, rather than him being instantly cured of his ailments. It is simply him resolving to change his outlook on himself and his relationships, and that feels more grounded to me than any alternative route the writers could have taken.
Personality
Rean is a kind, courageous, selfless individual who greatly cares about those around him. Despite his own low self-esteem, he is a gifted speaker and possesses the spirit of a natural-born leader. It is this charisma that quickly made him the de facto leader of Class VII, as he often served as an intermediary for the interpersonal clashes between his other classmates (see: Machias/Jusis and Fie/Laura). He often goes out of his way to help his peers solve problems or make their lives easier. This behavior is propelled by his own feelings of worthlessness, which causes his generosity to often escalate to self-sacrificial activity. On the occasions when Rean is unable to help someone, he often feels guilty, even if the problem at hand was not his fault or was out of his control (examples include his inability to stop Vulcan and Crow from dying in CS2).Rean is also extraordinarily perceptive thanks to his Unclouded Eye technique, which he learned from Yun Ka-fai. This allows him to set aside any preconceived notions or prejudices he may have and accurately discern a person’s true nature. His training also allows him to notice things others may not, such as objects moving at high speed or unseen people/creatures in his vicinity. At the same time, there are things he struggles to pick up on, namely when it comes to others’ feelings regarding him. Rean often fumbles when it comes to romantic/intimate interactions with the girls in his life, either unintentionally flustering them or failing to understand how deep their feelings run. Rean also fails to understand how his martyr behavior hurts those he cares about, despite numerous incidents ending with people refusing to abandon him and calling him out for perceived recklessness.
Analysis: One thing I’ve always appreciated about Rean is that, despite his serious personal problems, he never comes off as whiny, annoying, cringe, etc. He knows how to compartmentalize and portray an air of confidence and amicability; I would attribute this to his noble upbringing, as we see similar behavior in other noble characters like Laura and Jusis. His natural ability as a speaker and leader are reminiscent of Osborne’s, as is his penchant for self-sacrificial behavior; Osborne was, after all, willing to bond with Ishmelga, literally give his heart to his son, and turn himself into a villain for the sake of his people.
There are considerable differences between Rean and the three protagonists who preceded him. He is almost the antithesis of Estelle: She is lively, spontaneous, and unafraid to open up to others emotionally, Rean is more reserved and measured, and is initially guarded, though he does learn to express himself over time. While he does share similar backstory details to Kevin, their outward personalities are starkly different, with Kevin being suave and laid-back and Rean being more serious and passive. As for Lloyd, while Rean does share his kindness, perception, and leadership ability, the two do have their differences as well. Lloyd’s arc is about starting from nothing and overcoming barriers, gaining strength along the way. He is driven by a commitment to justice and a zealous patriotic spirit. Rean, on the other hand, starts out with great power at a young age but struggles to control it, making his journey more internal and personal than Lloyd’s. Additionally, his fighting spirit comes not from burning passion, but from steely nerve and trust in his companions. And, of course, he is not morally gray like his successor, Van.
Relationships
Due to the sheer number of people Rean becomes involved with, I will only address his more notable relationships. Many will be in clusters, with only a select few individuals receiving their own entries.- Old Class VII: Old Class VII is Rean’s core friend group through the entire Cold Steel arc. They are the ones who fight by his side during the arc’s major events, including the Erebonian civil war, the Great Twilight, and more. Although Emma Millstein was class president during their student years, Rean gradually becomes Old Class VII’s’ de facto leader in the field due to his good rapport with all its members and his role in helping them bond with each other. By the end of CS1, he is very much the proverbial glue that holds Old Class VII together, and Rean executes this role flawlessly in CS2 by bringing their scattered members back together again. Despite his love for his classmates, Rean largely hesitates to seek them out for emotional support due to his low self-worth, and it isn’t until he sees their heartbroken reactions to his “death” in Reverie when he realizes how much he means to them.
- New Class VII: Rean is New Class VII’s teacher at Thors’s branch campus starting in CS3. Over the course of the game and its sequels, he forms a unique bond with each of his five students: A father-like figure for Altina, a tough-love mentor for Ash, a source of confidence for Kurt, a role model for Juna and… uh… maybe I shouldn’t discuss Musse. Anyway, the wisdom Rean imparts on New Class VII helps them all mature into capable young adults, particularly Juna, who essentially fills Rean’s shoes in CS4 Chapter 1 and leads the charge to rescue him from Osborne.
- Schwarzer family: Rean’s adopted parents and sister. Rean cares deeply about the Schwarzers, to the point where seeing them being physically threatened causes his ogre powers to manifest uncontrollably in CS1-2. At the same time, despite having the Schwarzer’s unconditional love and support, Rean feels like a significant burden to them for much of his young life, particularly to Teo. This matter is eventually settled by the end of CS2. There is also the matter of Elise, his younger sister, who develops feelings for him as they age (writing that did not sit well with me at all, but the show must go on…). Rean, for his part, is exceptionally protective of Elise until she finally rebuffs this part of him in Reverie, arguing that she is strong enough to take care of herself.
- Crow Armbrust: If any one member of Class VII, new or old, deserves an individual mention, it is unquestionably Crow. Crow and Rean share a unique, dynamic relationship that evolves considerably over the four Cold Steel games. In the beginning, Crow is Rean’s rival and superior in many ways. He is older, more cunning, and a stronger Awakener than Rean (at least when piloting Ordine). But over time, Rean gains strength and confidence, which allows him to beat Crow in CS2, and then defeat him again in CS4, at which point he essentially becomes Crow's lord and retainer by sparing his life.
- The two are very much foils for one another, with similarities and differences: Both are young men who are descended from political leaders (who were themselves bitter enemies). Both are Awakeners guided by witches - Crow by the mighty Vita and Rean by the fledgling Emma and Celine. At the same time they are almost total opposites as people, with Crow being cocky, deceptive, and rebellious, while Rean is modest, honest, and upstanding. Even their hair colors contrast! In that sense, Crow also serves as a benchmark for Rean's growth, as their relationship roles essentially switch in CS4, with Rean gaining dominance over Crow.
- Yun Ka-fai: Because there is still much mystery surrounding Yun Ka-fai, it is difficult to dissect him in the context of this write-up. However, we do know that Rean was Yun's last discipline - the last of four. Rean also receives correspondence from Yun at various points in the story, largely to give life updates and confer higher ranks onto Rean (Is this the Trails equivalent of Zoom classes? No, wait, they have actual tech for that…). From the content of his letters, Yun seems to think highly of Rean as both a person and a swordsman. Despite not being present for Rean's final few years of training, Yun understands Rean's journey intimately, to the point where he feels comfortable making Rean a Divine Blade through a proxy in CS4. This begs questions: How does Yun know so much? Does he possess some form of the Unclouded Eye that lets him detect such things in his students? Is he basically Yoda? Or is someone watching Rean on Yun's behalf? Furthermore, in his letter to Rean in CS3, he says he will impart his final teachings onto Rean “when” they meet again. This might be reading too much into it, but Yun seems quite confident he will see Rean again. My guess is that Yun has something planned, if not for Rean, then for all of his disciples. And I suspect that that plan was part of why Yun chose to promote Rean to Divine Blade when he did. The timing, right before the final battle at the Duatha de Danann, is too convenient for me to ignore. Either Yun wanted to help Rean reach peak form in time, or he had some other motive. Or both.
- Giliath Osborne: Osborne is Rean's biological father. Despite coming off as callous at first, it becomes clear in CS4 and Reverie that Osborne truly loved his son and was willing to sacrifice everything for him, including his heart (literally) and his humanity. Rean inherited a number of traits from Osborne, including his charisma, leadership ability, flawed selflessness, and strength of spirit. The two share an innate need to put others’ happiness over their own, albeit for different reasons, and both suffered in silence for years because of it. This is part of why, despite having the same goal, Rean and Osborne both fought each other with all they had during the final Rivalry: Neither wanted to see the other inherit the curse's full power, Osborne because he didn't want to see Rean suffer any longer and Rean because he essentially accepted that he was the curse's Sacrifice. After CS4, Rean learns more about Osborne's inner thoughts and motives, developing a deep admiration for his father and a desire to make his sacrifice worthwhile.
- Lloyd Bannings: Lloyd and Rean are quite comparable. They are the main protagonists of their respective arcs, both are leaders in their own right, both embody aspects of the “dense male protagonist” trope, and both are overall kind, perceptive (outside of romance), overall heroic young men. But like Crow, Lloyd is a foil for Rean, and this is apparent from their very first meeting, in CS2's Divertissement. Lloyd and Rean's circumstances were polar opposites: Lloyd was a vigilante, relegated to the shadows, with only a skeleton crew for support, while Rean was an Erebonian national hero with a Divine Knight and the full power of his country behind him. At the same time, Rean had no agency during this time, as he had been manipulated by Osborne into accepting such status and becoming part of a reprehensible operation. Lloyd, on the other hand, was a free agent, uncompromising in his ideals and fighting tirelessly for true justice. In short, Lloyd was powerless but free, while Rean was powerful but trapped. In that moment, it is obvious that Rean respected Lloyd's convictions and may have even envied him. Fortunately for the two, they find themselves on the same side in CS4 and a proper friendship between the two forms.
- Patrick Hyarms: Patrick and Rean’s relationship had an uneasy start. Although Patrick initially tried to ingratiate himself with Rean, he was rebuffed due to his elitist attitude towards commoners and other non-nobles. Patrick was quick to change his disposition towards Rean, treating him with disgust due to his unknown origins and lack of noble blood. After being humiliated by Rean and the other non-noble men of Class VII, Patrick starts to reassess his mindset and eventually becomes more accepting of non-nobles. This, in turn, leads to Rean and Patrick becoming friends, and in CS3, the two are shown to be trusted partners in certain areas. The friendship is somewhat complicated by Patrick’s romantic interest in Elise, of whom Rean is especially protective.
Future
As a main series protagonist, Rean is basically guaranteed to return in a future game. Whether or not he will be playable or have a significant role in said game is difficult to ascertain, but given his lengthy period of stardom in the Cold Steel games and Trails’s treatment of other past protagonists, my guess is that he will take more of a side role. Since Rean was looking for Yun Ka-fai after Reverie, and Yun is set to appear in Kai no Kiseki, I wouldn’t be surprised to see Rean in that game at all - at least in flashback form. Failing that, Rean will surely appear in or close to the series finale. Of this I am certain.Misc. Notes/Commentary
- Funnily enough, Rean’s final struggle with his powers in CS3-4 reminds me somewhat of the finale of Steven Universe Future, which similarly ends with the protagonist losing control of his powers and turning into a raging monster. It is only through the love and reassurance of Steven’s friends and family that he is able to return to normal, and like Rean, he is not necessarily “cured” of anything; he simply has a newfound resolve to get better.
- For those curious: I did not include discussion of Rean’s “harem” in this analysis because I do not see it as a core part of his character. The dating sim aspect of the Cold Steel games is just a silly fanservice gimmick and has no bearing on Rean’s growth or development. While it might have indirectly limited the interpersonal relationships the female characters of CS could form with other males, it did not have a similar effect on Rean.
- Ftr, I romanced Alisa in CS2 and Sara in CS4.
- Rean’s two big “power of friendship” moments in the series - unlocking Spirit Unification in CS2’s Intermission and snapping out of his ogre rage in CS4’s Fragments chapter - both involve him being faced with a golden crystal which symbolizes his many loving relationships. This is a minor detail, but I do appreciate the parallels at work here.
2024.05.18 19:39 LocalSupermarket9326 Penelope and Colin
I`ve been somewhat lurking on here for the past few days,commenting,seeing how people are feeling and what they`re thinking. Finally,I`ve wanted to share my thoughts on our leading couple this season,as a writer who`s really in her zone writing character analyses and has minored in British Literature. This post might be a bit long.
So I got the idea for this post after seeing so many of your wonderful opinions,since I did notice a common thread in a fair number of posts regarding the romance of this half season and,more specifically,Penelope and Colin themselves. That being: Their romance felt rushed and Colin`s characterisation came across as inconsistent/nonexistent plus Luke Newton didn`t help matters. As someone who`s enjoyed period dramas as it pertains to similar material since I was basically a child,this half season reminded me of those dramas moreso than any other season thus far. And it might just be because of these two observations,and I`d like to challenge them. Let me explain.
Firstly, I do not think Colin`s personality has been botched nor does he lack one. I`d rather say he`s just not the leading man many came to expect from Bridgerton. In fact,I think that is ever so incorporated into his struggles this year. Colin Bridgerton is the third son of the household. Not having to lead it,yet possessing that need for approval with no one to give it to him,he`s been aimless,that`s more than obvious. He is emotionally intelligent (the second one after Daphne to notice the attraction brewing between Kate and Anthony,sending her ball and having them alone),a people pleaser(always bringing his family gifts,asking if anyone needs anything,always being by Violet`s side,as she astutely points out this season). However,that backfired when he went through what he went through with Marina. He`s sensitive,words of the Ton CAN influence him,as he admits it himself. With that cocktail and his previous endeavours(even when he wanted to make something of himself on his own terms and finally gain some autonomy,proving to himself he`s just as worthy,that deal falls through),thinking that he needs to follow his brothers` example and become somewhat of a rake is rather logical. Nothing he does works,but his brothers are succeeding. His winks,brothel scenes etc. were lacking in confidence exactly because he`s putting up a front. It`s what he`s practiced and he`s just mouthing off. This is where Luke Newton`s ability shines,as you can see him doubting himself in the midst of giving bland,but charming compliments to eligible ladies on his first outing since coming back. He`s satisfying everyone but himself. Donning on a mask molded by the other men in his family. But he`s insecure and that mask shakes. He doesn`t fit this snug mold the show set out and he`s spilling out. He`s even insecure about his writing,something he genuinely enjoys. He`s not fuelled by trauma like Anthony and Simon,but by the fear of not measuring up,not being good enough. A jilted hopeless romantic yearning for attention,instead of a brooding smooth lead. And I love it. He`s funny,sweet,kind,emotionally intelligent,caring but also insecure,eager to please,running away from his problems and can be ponderous to a fault. That is where we come to his connection with Penelope.
Secondly, this idea of their romance being rushed. While I DO wish more time was given to them,what they gave us until now I can dissect with gusto. He`s subconsciously attracted to Penelope(even before Season 3) because she ponders,is introspective and on the outskirts like he is. I don`t know if it`s due to my education,but many instances of them communicating are not proper,nor well received by polite society of the time(since Season 1). The gloveless hand holding,him touching her forearm,the jokes they make,how much time they spend together,being on the first name basis. They`re comfortable with each other. One of my favorite interactions between them has to be when they talk about purpose in Season 2. In that moment,it is clear that something shifts in Colin as he looks down,smiling,his eyes going back to Pen,while she`s talking passionately about what she wants. Admiration,understanding as he sees her as something more. But he makes a blunder once again,not willing to see beyond his own insecurities. Another chance wasted. And we come to Season 3.
And both of them grow so much as characters. A bit older,but a lot more intricate. And in only 4 episodes,Colin becomes probably the most proactive leading man we`ve had,as he lunges head first,with no restraints. He`s not resistant to Violet`s advice,in fact,he welcomes it. He`s insecure but when it comes to Penelope,he`s freed from his shackles. Their story is about being free,satisfied with yourself,open to love and being loved. And,as an adult,it is so romantic. His true,romantic persona re-emerges in that carriage. Overcoming the voices in your head telling you you can`t. Being vulnerable with someone you feel will accept your pathetic side. It`s such a relatable conflict to explore. No need for love confessions for the centuries. With just a few looks you come to the same conclusion. It is glorious.
(I could go on,but this is such a long post I did not anticipate,sorry if I rambled,guys)
submitted by LocalSupermarket9326 to BridgertonNetflix [link] [comments]
So I got the idea for this post after seeing so many of your wonderful opinions,since I did notice a common thread in a fair number of posts regarding the romance of this half season and,more specifically,Penelope and Colin themselves. That being: Their romance felt rushed and Colin`s characterisation came across as inconsistent/nonexistent plus Luke Newton didn`t help matters. As someone who`s enjoyed period dramas as it pertains to similar material since I was basically a child,this half season reminded me of those dramas moreso than any other season thus far. And it might just be because of these two observations,and I`d like to challenge them. Let me explain.
Firstly, I do not think Colin`s personality has been botched nor does he lack one. I`d rather say he`s just not the leading man many came to expect from Bridgerton. In fact,I think that is ever so incorporated into his struggles this year. Colin Bridgerton is the third son of the household. Not having to lead it,yet possessing that need for approval with no one to give it to him,he`s been aimless,that`s more than obvious. He is emotionally intelligent (the second one after Daphne to notice the attraction brewing between Kate and Anthony,sending her ball and having them alone),a people pleaser(always bringing his family gifts,asking if anyone needs anything,always being by Violet`s side,as she astutely points out this season). However,that backfired when he went through what he went through with Marina. He`s sensitive,words of the Ton CAN influence him,as he admits it himself. With that cocktail and his previous endeavours(even when he wanted to make something of himself on his own terms and finally gain some autonomy,proving to himself he`s just as worthy,that deal falls through),thinking that he needs to follow his brothers` example and become somewhat of a rake is rather logical. Nothing he does works,but his brothers are succeeding. His winks,brothel scenes etc. were lacking in confidence exactly because he`s putting up a front. It`s what he`s practiced and he`s just mouthing off. This is where Luke Newton`s ability shines,as you can see him doubting himself in the midst of giving bland,but charming compliments to eligible ladies on his first outing since coming back. He`s satisfying everyone but himself. Donning on a mask molded by the other men in his family. But he`s insecure and that mask shakes. He doesn`t fit this snug mold the show set out and he`s spilling out. He`s even insecure about his writing,something he genuinely enjoys. He`s not fuelled by trauma like Anthony and Simon,but by the fear of not measuring up,not being good enough. A jilted hopeless romantic yearning for attention,instead of a brooding smooth lead. And I love it. He`s funny,sweet,kind,emotionally intelligent,caring but also insecure,eager to please,running away from his problems and can be ponderous to a fault. That is where we come to his connection with Penelope.
Secondly, this idea of their romance being rushed. While I DO wish more time was given to them,what they gave us until now I can dissect with gusto. He`s subconsciously attracted to Penelope(even before Season 3) because she ponders,is introspective and on the outskirts like he is. I don`t know if it`s due to my education,but many instances of them communicating are not proper,nor well received by polite society of the time(since Season 1). The gloveless hand holding,him touching her forearm,the jokes they make,how much time they spend together,being on the first name basis. They`re comfortable with each other. One of my favorite interactions between them has to be when they talk about purpose in Season 2. In that moment,it is clear that something shifts in Colin as he looks down,smiling,his eyes going back to Pen,while she`s talking passionately about what she wants. Admiration,understanding as he sees her as something more. But he makes a blunder once again,not willing to see beyond his own insecurities. Another chance wasted. And we come to Season 3.
And both of them grow so much as characters. A bit older,but a lot more intricate. And in only 4 episodes,Colin becomes probably the most proactive leading man we`ve had,as he lunges head first,with no restraints. He`s not resistant to Violet`s advice,in fact,he welcomes it. He`s insecure but when it comes to Penelope,he`s freed from his shackles. Their story is about being free,satisfied with yourself,open to love and being loved. And,as an adult,it is so romantic. His true,romantic persona re-emerges in that carriage. Overcoming the voices in your head telling you you can`t. Being vulnerable with someone you feel will accept your pathetic side. It`s such a relatable conflict to explore. No need for love confessions for the centuries. With just a few looks you come to the same conclusion. It is glorious.
(I could go on,but this is such a long post I did not anticipate,sorry if I rambled,guys)
2024.05.18 19:13 CatherineL1031 The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]
![The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]](https://preview.redd.it/8c06qddww71d1.png?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=6bbe7ddd2b8b39cfcd833a7fb4252a0169ab6677 "The Beginning of my Descent [Lorepost Part 3]") | Hello again everyone, I’ve decided to put the baking tips here this time. This is one that has been a huge help for me when it comes to cutting cakes. It’s much easier and cleaner to cut a cake when it’s been chilled for a few hours. So, once your cake has baked and firmed up in the pan (about 15-20 minutes, you want to make sure it’s set but still slightly malleable), take it out, let it come to room temperature, and then cover with foil or plastic or something to prevent it from drying in the fridge. Let it cook for a few hours to finish solidifying, and then cut. Also, if you have the means, a sheet cake cooks and cools a lot faster and more evenly and a cutter can be used to make perfect even circles. submitted by CatherineL1031 to wizardposting [link] [comments] Now, it’s a bit strange to start with the baking tips, I know. But, those are saved as a reward for making your way through my ramblings about youth and glory and adventures. This time, I wanted to put it here as a sort of apology for what’s to come. The last two stories have been very positive, very upbeat, very fun. However, the next century of my life I’m about to share with you all… I wouldn’t blame any of you if you looked at me differently, I’ll just say that. I’ll stop beating around the bush, and get right to the point. So, my immortality was secure, I’d have my perfect body for as long as time existed or until I was killed by a stronger, more capable opponent. I had a good group of friends who knew they could depend on me whenever they needed help with something, and I got to kick the ass of a lich! I had accomplished so much in just over 100 years of life, and now I had a supposedly infinite amount of it to spare if I played my cards right! I felt unstoppable, and wanted to help others like I had helped my companions. I became a mercenary, a witch for hire for adventures that might be too dangerous for parties. I stopped lying about my strengths, making sure it was known I held Master rank in two magic fields. Most people do not like to play the role of support, and it’s never a bad idea to have extra healing, so I started to hone my craft in Healing and Protection magic as well. I was a force to be reckoned with, and I would make sure the world knew it! I had wished to continue adventuring with my previous companions, but each of them had decided to take their own path in life. Har decided to take a more involved approach with his church, Ralin returned home to overtake her brother as chief of her clan, and Vex was heading back to the mountains to further hone her building expertise and learn to become an artificer for enchanting! It was sad parting ways, we had been together for such a short time but we had accomplished something so impressive! Oh well, that’s life, you know? I made them promise to keep in touch, and we did for the most part! Har became a bit hard to reach at times due to moving around, so it was always a treat to see him when I could. Anyways, I soon began to gain some fame. I was a topic of conversation now who had been promoted to expert in the matter of a month after I helped some newbies on their quests. I was someone who everyone knew was dependable and talented. Best of all, I was a cutie, and everyone loves to have a cute witch on their team! I had all but abandoned my previous life’s calling in favor of glory seeking, which is something I still look back on with regret. I was becoming more selfish, more focused on building myself up instead of using my powers for the good of those who might not be able to ever have access to these powers. The Phoenix Rebirth had become a popular spell among us in the community, though, so people were still getting help. I had published it free to all magic shops, all magical teachers, even sent the entire process and methods for casting it through the OrbNet before I left to go on my mission to fight the lich. I just wanted to be sure it was in the world, pending the potential worst. It was at a huge loss, but it has now become the platform by which a lot of Gender spells are cast, so it was all worth it. My time as an adventurer was amazing, I met so many cool people, fought so many horrifying and awesome beasts, even got to kiss a dragon! They don’t have lips, so it’s not the best kiss, but it’s still something worth bragging about. I felt so good helping people in a different way, and I was becoming more and more popular through the years. I was now Catherine, Lady of Flames, Master of Forms, a stable in the adventuring party call list. It felt amazing. The excitement lasted for about 15 years of being called to help on missions, but then it was quickly soured after a single mission. Nobody mentions this, but once you become a powerful enough fighter, you start to garner the attention of those in need of protecting. This is definitely not a bad thing, especially when it is someone who is in genuine need of it, but that is not usually the case. Particularly, you garner the attention of the wealthy, who believe all problems can be solved with money. I would liken them to devils or demons, but that isn’t fair to them…devils and demons at least have codes they follow. Anyways, one such noble approached me. Well, not actually her, one of the elves she had employed in her service. Her name was Duchess Cordelia, Lady of Farlon, Heir to the Rose Throne, Daughter of Zavier Goradel and Collector of Fine Arts. Yes, she made you say each one of those every time you addressed her, and in the correct order. She was…there’s a word I don’t like to use to describe her, a word that to me is very offensive but to others means nothing. I’m sure you can guess the word of which I speak, I simply refuse to say it outloud. She was, though, and a massive one at that. She had called upon me after an omen in the sky had warned her of an invasion by some of the forces of hell. It was something we all saw, and while it was a terrifying experience, I’m not going to pretend it wasn’t the coolest and most spectacular shit I had ever seen. Whoever had cast it had placed some illusion magic to make the sun look like a flaming skull that called specifically her and her family out. I still remember what it said because it was just that cool. ‘Cordelia, Zavier, Helena…you have toyed with forces beyond your control, and for that you will be punished…My legions will march on your town, turning it and everything your pathetic hands have dared to touch into naught but a fine ash. You cannot stop me. You cannot persuade me. You cannot survive…’ and then it was over, the sun was back to normal. Fucking baller move, right? That’s how you threaten some assholes’ life! So, I was called, along with Magnus Haradel and Desdamona Torres. Magnus was another high ranking member of the guild, an older Drow chap who still remains the most talented sword wielder I’d ever seen. His white hair was always tied into a neat bun, and he dressed simply. His armor was enchanted, but looked similar to any generic armor you could buy. He held a very respectable air about him, a sense of power that told anyone he could easily defeat them, but a calming sense that assured them he would only do it if he was threatened. Mona was an alchemist who concocted and brewed the strangest potions I had ever seen. Some of them would cause an opponent to explode, some would freeze them in place, some when opened and poured onto the ground summoned these giant venus fly-trap looking creatures with razor sharp teeth that would devour whatever she commanded. She was a half-goblin, parents being a full goblin and an elf. Their genes worked together very well, because Mona herself was truly stunning. She has black hair, lime green skin, and wore a long back robe that flowed down her slender body. More impressive, however, was that she was Archmage levels in her Alchemical field, the highest one could get back in the day. It was our job to protect Cordelia and her parents, Zavier and Helena. They would not share any information with us about what they had done, how it had pissed something off, or what to expect, but they did tell us we’d be ‘handsomely compensated should you survive’. Assholes…we needed information to do our job! Holes in information leads to holes in strategy, holes in strategy leads to unnecessary risk, and unnecessary risk leads to uncertainty and potential death! Ugh, whatever, it was just one job, then hopefully we’d never have to deal with them again and they’d descend into obscurity. So, the job was set. Magnus, Mona and I got better acquainted with each other and started to plan our defensive means and offensive responses. We had no idea what we were facing, how many it would be, where it would be coming from, or when! We had one of the five answers we desperately needed, so we had to do the best we could. Magnus suggested we employ the help of additional adventurers; clerics, paladins and the like who are good at protecting and supporting. Their job would be to round up the town to a safe location and watch over them until one of us gave the all clear. Mona and I agreed, and I decided to spread the word that the people needed to be taken to safety and guarded until whatever was going to happen had happened; he did threaten the entire population, so better to be safe. Mona started to lay a protective parameter around the Goradel mansion in the form of explosive concoctions that seeped into the ground and bottles of Acid Arrow that, when broken, would attack the nearest hostile creature. She had also managed to brew a few potions of invisibility for the townsfolk, given the guards potions of strength, mana regeneration, health regeneration and spell boosting, and gave herself, myself and Magnus potions of regeneration, potions of Free Casting (basically downing one allows you just have a reserve of mana to pull from without worry), and potions of Iron Skin that would give us amazing defense without slowing us down. She was a really, really talented Alchemist, even crazier was that she was only 30, very young for a half-elf/half-goblin. She definitely had a gift. I, meanwhile, decided to try something new. I had been toying around with a few things in my off-time, and with my knowledge of Shifting Magics I decided to try out something that could prove beneficial. I had come across many beasts in my time, some of them easy to understand and study, others so wildly complicated that it took me years of dissecting, studying and charting to get a solid understanding of what the hell was going on internally. I had taken some lessons from Grandmaster and Archmage Shifter’s who were willing to teach, and with enough practice I was finally able to harness the form of other, less common creatures! I had mastered the standard offensive animal forms like tiger, wolf, bear and eagle, but didn’t know how dangerous our targets were going to be, so I decided that we needed to go hard, fast, and leave no possible room for error. I downed the two bottles of Free Casting that Mona has brewed, and began my shift. I had again mixed my Phoenix Rebirth with these form changes, so the only pain I was receiving was to my mana pools. However, thanks to Mona’s amazing abilities, I was able to shift without trouble! I got down on all fours, and soon my size began to expand. My teeth turned from their normal human color to a stained and dark brown. My face started to extend forward into a muzzle, my teeth being replaced by sharp, deadly fangs. My canines extended further than the rest, creating a deadly row of fangs. My lips retracted back, and my face began to turn scaly and red as my face became more and more canine. The only thing unchanged on my face was my eyes, as they were my Keepsake (many Shifters have a certain aspect of themselves they keep permanent, no matter what, to remind themselves of their true form). The scales continued down, a large, fleshy tail sprouting from my back and extending out. From snout to tail, I was now 30 feet in size, but I was not yet finished. The scales extended down my whole body, but they looked more like regular sinew and flesh as my body was covered in a protective coat of blood red scales. My legs began to crack and bend as muscle appeared to support my now larger weight and size, and my toes extended a double set of claws on each foot. The form was complete, now for one final touch. All across my red tail, bones began to jut out like my sharpened fangs, covering it from my hindquarters to the very tip of my tail. It was definitely an easy target should something decide to attack my tail, but the shards and spikes allowed me to slice through weaker enemies that dare to try. Even better, I could slam my tail against the ground to loosen some of the shards and fling them towards my target. I was a true beast, an imperfect dragon known as a fanged drake. While not near as strong as a true dragon, I had seen first-hand the damage and strength they possess, and now it was all mine. Magic was a bit harder to cast in this form, but I still had access to Apprentice level Pyromancy and some support spells like Enhance Speed, Feather Fall and Enhance Ability. The stage was set, we were ready to fight whatever came our way. Magnus had enchanted his greatsword with every enchantment he could cast without overloading it, Mona held potions in her hands, and I stood at the front, smoke coming from my body as I waited. We were ready, we were going to defend these poor villagers and the shitty people who barely even gave a shit about their safety! We waited, and waited, and waited. Seems I had used my change too early, and turning back would just be a waste of mana, so I decided to travel into town and help with carrying or leading others to safety. I had modified the vocal cords of this beast to be more in-line with standard humanoid ones, so it allowed me to speak. It was just not very fun, given my voice was incredibly gruff and deep due to the creature's size. I ran to the guards, my now muscular legs allowing me to jump great distances, my long claws able to help me climb with relative ease. It didn't take long to find the groups and their protectors as they were leaving town. I jumped down to check and make sure everything was okay, and even got to meet Har again! He looked so much more mature, his black hair and green eyes showing a bit of age, but it seemed he was happy. We used a few minutes of walking time to catch up, and I got to hear all about his journey. After our mission, he made it his job to find undead who had been driven mad, and help them see the light again. He had seen many undead who had been brought back against their will, and many who suffered purely because they weren't allowed a choice in their rest being disturbed. He had helped them find peace, shown them the light of Theia, his goddess, and allowed them to return to their peaceful slumber in their designated afterlife. He had even married the cute man at the bar that I had convinced him to chat up, and they had a daughter named Athena! Apparently she was 7 years old and the sweetest thing, according to Har. I told him he better let me visit her once this was all over, and he happily accepted. Our sweet reunion was cut short, however, as the clouds in the night sky started to swirl and gather. Once again we saw the decrepit and harrowing skull that we had seen yesterday appear again. Except, this time it didn't talk. It merely let out an ear-splitting screech that rattled your very soul. A few of the people were so terrified they had fainted, so I yelled at them to carry all they could, and run! Fast! They were quick to agree, those who could carry grabbing the unconscious and those from my back with haste so that I could rush back to the mansion. I arrived right in the nick of time to see absolute hell spewing from the mouth of this skull. We heard horrid shrieks and cries of birds, the hissing roars of giant snakes, and the unholy screams of Abyssal Spiders. The birds were like Corvids, but towering in height. They easily reached 30 feet in size, their beaks sharpened and rigged with teeth-like bumps running down the entirety of their beaks. Their eye sockets were sunken and shallow, small eyes giving off a haunting and piercing glow. Parts of their body showed their exposed, fleshy bodies underneath. Their skin was red, and covered with scars, exposed bone and sinew from what looked to be countless battles. The snakes were unlike anything I've ever seen, they were black and blue striped, with arms and legs, and stood upright! They were not as tall as the Corvids, only measuring 15 feet tall, but they possessed a whip-like tail that flowed almost the same length as their bodies. Their mouths oozed a green venom that coated their fangs, and their necks were able to flare into hoods like a cobra. Finally, were the spiders. Along with being giant, like the size of a Clydesdale giant, they possessed hundreds of eyes across their entire body. Their fangs dripped with venom, and thick hairs were present across their entire bodies. Each hair on their back was able to pierce skin and inject with the same poison in their fangs, and their webs were known to carry a necrotic slime that would eat away at skin. We definitely had our work cut out for us, this horde of creatures was coming right for the Goradel residence and they were ready to kill anything and everything in their path. The crows rushed through, their massive size crushing smaller houses and easily breaking through larger ones that were in their way. The spiders simply crawled over them, leaving a trail of webs and venom in their wake, and the snakes…apparently their tails were going to be quite the problem, as not only were they long, they were sharp enough to slice trees, wildlife and building cleanly with just a single slice of the tail. We were truly, without a doubt, up a fucking creek with this one. We sprang into action as quickly as we could. We saw our foes pouring out, and our objective was simple protection of the village, her people, and the asshole nobles that caused all this. I ran right towards the spiders, knowing that they were the threat that could cause the most damage with their necrotic webs and flesh-melting venom. The smoke coming from my mouth started to turn black as I approached one of them, letting out a blast of fire from my mouth that quickly set it and its attempted web in flames. It shrieked as it skittered and writhed in pain, trying to attack me in retaliation. I was quick to slice one of its legs off with my claws, and sink my teeth into the back of its head. It gave a few more twitches and finally fell still. I threw it to the side as I continued doing my best to draw them towards a common area, minimizing the potential risk of them running out of town and tracking down the other parties currently in hiding. It worked very well, as once they notice a threat, they will continue to attack! The problem was, it worked very well, and once they noticed a threat they would continue to attack until it died! The horde of spiders was gaining on me, all I could do was use some flames to burn the webs they attempted to ensnare me with and use my claws to slice any that came from the front. I was not doing well by any means, but I was now at least within sight of my companions. My joy was quickly cut short as I felt a burning string of web wraps itself around my tail. I had gotten careless, and was definitely paying the price. If you’ve never been hit by necrosis, allow me to explain the feeling as best I can. Imagine a hot knife being thrust deeper and deeper into your body and feeling your cells, muscles, tendons and fat dying around it. Not just cut, or severed, dying with little chance to repair it without some heavy magic. If it goes around a vital part, like a shoulder, leg or neck, you will start to slowly feel yourself losing all feeling as it just falls. It’s a truly horrible experience, avoid it if you can. This is to say, I was currently in for absolute hell as I felt this experience being run through the part of my tail that carries most of my projectile spikes. I could feel each tendon snapping, my skin burning away, and the discs of my now expended spine starting to crack and rip. I had to make a choice, fast. My desperation led me to only one single solution; I knew the tail had to go. With a pained howl I raised my claws, and sliced clean through the tail on my back. I cannot explain how truly horrible of an experience this was, mostly because I think my mind has blocked it out to protect itself. It fell to the ground with a wet squelch, blood pouring out of the open wounds on my back. I sent a breath of flame onto the spider and his silk, and sent another onto my nubbed tail. Again, another experience I believe my mind has blocked out to protect itself! Don’t get hit by necrosis, kids. I ran to Mona, who was currently being swarmed by a group of Corvids, and offered my assistance. I was pissed, I was angry, and I wanted to kill! As one of them dived down, I jumped onto its chest and sunk my fangs directly into its neck. It let out a pained screech as I felt its blood fill my mouth, my claws wildly slashing at its chest through skin, flesh, bone, whatever I could scrap and slice, I did. I had truly let this creature’s feral nature take over my mind for the time being, but I did not give a damn, we needed to win. The beast fell back to the ground, and I let out another challenging roar to the other beasts nearby. My claws and fangs erupted in flames as I continued to wildly attack the ones threatening Mona, knowing I needed to protect her as she concocted and threw brew after brew onto what she could. Magnus was doing absolutely amazing, without a doubt the best of us. He was handling the snakes by himself, expertly dodging and slashing at them each time they tried to grab him, bite him, slice with their tails, or trample him. He would wait for them to attack and in the blink of an eye, whatever they tried to attack him with would be gone. Heads, tails, legs and arms started to litter the ground near him as he showed absolute power and authority. Mona, meanwhile, had been mixing something special while I distracted the snakes and corvids. Her alchemical traps had mostly been activated already, melted and bubbling piles of what were some of our enemies scattered through the warzone. She yelled at me to give her a boost, and I managed to snap free from my feral state. She held something in her hands I cannot even begin to describe. It was completely dark, but…empty. The energy that came from it was unlike anything I have ever seen since, it was like staring into the nothingness of space while being surrounded by it on all sides. She slammed it onto the ground, and the darkness surrounded her. Flesh and feathers from the Corvids started to break from their destroyed and lifeless bodies, attaching itself to her back and clothes. One of their skulls burst into pieces as it flew towards her, reassembling itself onto her face in a makeshift mask. Their bones and talons began to collect into her hands, and within a matter of seconds she was holding a powerful, pulsating scythe. In that moment I saw something I truly hope to never see again. I saw death. The truest form of death was standing before me, and its energy chilled my very soul. I could feel the contempt the energy had for me, as if it knew I had extended my life outside of its natural reach. She ordered me to come, and I knew I had to obey. I grabbed her with my fangs, and placed her onto my back. Her body was cold, I was terrified of what I saw before me, but so was everything else. I felt a hand rest onto my head, and I could feel…warmth. Mona reassured me that it was going to be okay, and pointed her scythe forward. I collected myself again, and sprinted towards our enemies. Mona sliced and slashed them each with one clean swipe from that scythe, each of them falling dead in our path. I used my flames to burn any webs that had been placed, focusing on the ground while she focused on taking down these enemies with the grace and power of a god. As I saw this, I truly understood how far the gaps between Master and Archmage truly were when it came to the arcane arts. I still had so much to learn… Our combo attacks came to a screeching halt, however, as we heard a pained scream from behind us. We both looked to where Magnus was, and we could see that he had been injured. One of the snakes had managed to sink its tail through his shoulder, and another currently had its fangs embedded into his side. We let out a scream as we charged towards them as they bit, stabbed, and slashed poor Magnus. I tackled one of the snakes off, sinking my burning fangs into its neck and ripping its head off in one solid motion. Mona jumped from my back, holding her hand out as she said…something, and the snake was turned to dust. Magnus fell to the ground, howling in pain as he regained his footing. I cried out that he needed to be healed immediately, and begged Mona to throw him something from her belt. He paid me no mind, and just ran back into the fight. He was so badly injured, but that did not stop him for a second. He continued fighting as if nothing had happened, and we knew we had to do the same. The fight lasted for hours, the hordes of enemies seeming endless. The town had been turned to rubble at this point, any signs of life save for the Goradel mansion had vanished from this now tarnished and barren land. As the sun rose on the next day, we saw the warzone in fresh light. Mona had returned to normal, her breathing short and labored as she laid on the ground. I had turned back to normal, wounds covering my body and in desperate need of healing, but I didn’t care. I saw Magnus sitting on the corpse of one of the Corvids, a cup of ale in his hand and blood pouring from him. I rushed to him, begging him to let me help him, but he just shook his head. He took a long, slow sip of his ale, let out a deep sigh and motioned for me to sit with him. I got down as best I could, every instinct telling me to heal me, but he continued to refuse. Eventually he spoke as we stared at the sunset. ‘Catherine,’ he said to me, ‘everyone has a torch to burn. Some burn longer than others, and we don’t get to decide how long they burn…’ He leaned against his sword with a smile, taking one last sip of ale. I asked him what the hell he was talking about, but as I looked at him, I could tell… He was gone… The light had gone from his eyes, but that smile remained on his face. As I saw this, all I could do was cry. I had lost people before in my life, but I was always able to help the ones that could be helped from injuries! I just hugged him as I sobbed, and sobbed, and sobbed. Even worse was having to heal Mona back to consciousness with the remainder of my magic and share the news with her. We cried together; we hadn’t known each other for more than a day, but we all held a deep respect for each other. Knowing that we had failed him and caused his demise, the town being destroyed, our barely achieved victory…none of it felt worth it in the end. As we cried, we heard the doors to the Goradel manor open. Out stepped Zavier, Cordelia’s father. He looked at the scene, nodding as he saw our handiwork and commended us. ‘Weren’t there three of you?’ he asked as he looked at us with such lack of regard. ‘Magnus…he’s dead…’ Mona said as I helped her up, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘Hm, pity…very well, would you like his share? We had already set aside 3 payments, we will split it between you both should you wish’. I still don’t know why what he said caused me such anger, but I could feel my blood boil. Our comrade that had been one of the best members of the guild, the one who had fought to defend his worthless ass, the reason he was standing here right now and not a pile of meat being devoured by beasts didn’t even give a shit that he was gone! ‘This isn’t fair’, I thought to myself, ‘we protected them and they are treating us like pawns!’ Mona could tell I was getting angry, so she answered that we’d take his share and have it sent to our accounts at once. She pulled me away from this pitiful excuse for a human, and I just screamed in anger. She told me that she agreed, that it wasn’t fair to Magnus, or us, or the people of this village, but that we couldn’t let his sacrifice be in vain. With his share of the cash and ours, we could afford to build a new settlement for the displaced of this village. She managed to talk me down from my anger, she was really talented like that. I took a few deep breaths, patted my cheeks, and nodded. It would be better to use the money for good in Magnus’ honor, all the stories I had heard of his exploits usually ended with him donating a large portion of his earnings to those affected by disasters such as this. Mona left to inform the survivors that the victory had been achieved, but at the loss of Magnus. While she did that, however, I began to plan. I don’t know if it was the loss of a comrade, the pain still coursing through my body, the stress and trauma of what we had just gone through, but letting it go was not an option for me at this point. I knew I had to show these fuckers torment, I knew that they needed to pay for the callous disregard for anyone who wasn’t themselves. So, I gathered samples. I had a bag of holding on my side and began to stuff it with the bodies of our defeated enemies. The spiders had all been burned and crushed beyond study, but many of the Corvids and Serpents were still able to be studied and understood. Once I had my samples, I looked at Magnus with more tears. I was going to avenge him, I was going to show these rich pieces of crap just how insignificant they were, and I was going to make sure they paid the price… There was no way I could carry his body with my strength, he was far too bulky for me, so I used my magic to carry him. Even with my weakened state I couldn’t stop myself from giving him a proper burial. He deserved it, he deserved so much more than what he got. I summoned a shovel into my hands, and began to dig. I think I made it about 3 minutes of digging before my body finally gave up on me, and I fell. I don’t remember much of what happened after that, I guess I had passed out from exhaustion. When I awoke, I heard Har’s voice calling to me. I was so tired, my body aching and burning in such pain as I tried to move every muscle I could. I looked up, and we were in a cemetery. I could see Magnus’ body laying in a now dug grave, dressed in his elegant but simple armor, eyes closed and mouth still holding that same smile as I had seen before. A ward of protection was currently being cast around his burial grounds, designating this land as sacred ground that could not be touched by any means. No necromancer could get to his body, and no thieves could rob him of his belongings. I was sitting next to a patched up and tired looking Mona, and we both just sobbed gently as we watched him being buried. Hundreds had gathered to pay their respects, all of those that Magnus had saved, protected, worked with, allied, even some who I later came to learn saw him as a rival. All of them were paying their respects to this true paragon of an adventurer, and all I could think about was getting revenge for him… Ah, sorry, I didn’t realize how long I had been sending through the OrbNet. It might be best to end this part of my life here for the time being. Thank you again for reading, if you managed to find an old witch’s story interesting. Once I work up the courage to share the next part with you all, I hope you will continue to view me in a positive light. You will hear things that…well, you’ll see. Thank you for your time, I love you all, my siblings in the arcane. |
2024.05.18 09:21 Powermetalbunny A Gift From The Void
The new gift-specific dialogue from the 1.6 update has me absolutely tickled pink! This one especially… I also haven’t practiced my creative writing in a while, and I decided it needed to happen sooner rather than later, so here, have a short story! Sorry if it's boring… I’m a little rusty!
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”
submitted by Powermetalbunny to StardewValley [link] [comments]
“A Gift From The Void”
It was only yesterday… No one was quite sure where it had come from. There had been a sinister cackling noise ringing through the night air and Abigail had mentioned seeing an unidentifiable shape soaring through the sky during her walk home from the cemetery. The townsfolk gossiped and speculated about what it could have been that evening, but by the next morning they still hadn’t come to any reasonable explanation. It was only yesterday, and yet the entire village seemed to have already put it out of their minds and moved on. The scandal and chatter following the “Anchovy Soup Incident” at the Summer Luau several years back had lasted far longer than this… Even now Sam was still getting sideways glances whenever he got within a 20 foot radius of the soup cauldron, but this just blows over in less than a day? The priorities of small town people were strange.
Things had gone back to that same semblance of backwater, middle-of-nowhere kind of normal, and now the night had become just the same as any other Friday evening. Sebastian was playing a round of billiards with Sam, and while Sam was preoccupied with lining up the cue with his intended target ball, the farmer strolled into the saloon and up to the bar. Heads turned and raised to the newcomer for a moment before returning to whatever it was that had been previously holding their attention. Sebastian caught the sudden flourish of movement out of his periphery, but didn’t pay it much mind. The farmer ordered a coffee and a plate of the night’s special, and struck up a conversation with Gus about a peculiar egg that had materialized in their coop seemingly out of nowhere the night before. Apparently they’d decided to tuck it away into the incubator and wait to see what… if anything hatched from it.
Sebastian had never really been one to eavesdrop, but the wait for Sam to make his move was becoming boring, and sometimes the stories that passed around the saloon on Friday evenings got interesting depending on who all was involved. The story didn’t really go too far into detail. The farmer poked at their food until it had cooled enough to not scald the inside of their mouth, then they took a few bites before bringing up the events of the previous evening. What first started off as a funny story seemed to turn into some deep discussion with Gus about the mysteries of life. Eventually, Willy and Elliott were caught up in the mirth and it turned into a medley of strange tales from faraway lands and once-upon-a-times. Obviously exaggerated sightings of fearsome creatures on a midnight stormy sea, legends of colossal white whales, references to works written by masters of the mystery genre, as well as some from a trashy neo-noir novel or two that had probably been picked up from a bookstore clearance shelf.
Willy stroked his beard and mused about some daring battle between himself and a fish of questionable proportions that seemed to grow larger each time he told the story. Sebastian had heard this one before. The fight over the line had gone on for over an hour before the shadow of the fish rose near to the surface, and just before Willy could land the monster of a catch, it dove below again, taking the whole fishing rod overboard and nearly Willy himself with it.
Elliott gulped down the last few swigs of ale in his tankard, slapped the farmer firmly on the back, snorted and chuckled in an ungraceful yet jolly display that only ever crept out of him when he’d had a bit too much to drink.
“That fish becomes more miraculous each time he talks about it!” Elliott shook his head and smiled as he leaned almost a little too far forward. There was a slight sway to his posture and he tried to straighten his body back in line with the barstool. “To life, and her many little silly tricks of fate, my friends!” he declared. He raised the empty mug, and with his free hand, delicately tucked a few strands of stray hair behind his ear with the tips of his fingers. He rested his elbow back on the bar before he could lose his balance and sighed contently. Elliott’s cheeks were practically glowing red at this point and it was a wonder that he wasn’t slurring his words yet.
“Aye, you’ve all heard my fish story haven’t ye?” Willy chuckled. “How ‘bout the one about the Baba Yaga?” the farmer’s head tilted and they gazed curiously at the fisherman. Willy rested his foot on the crossbar of the barstool, lifted the rim of his hat out of his line of sight, and leaned into the counter. “Some know ‘er as the cannibal witch… others say she’s just a misunderstood haggard ol’ woman who lives alone out in woods or marshes. It’s said she lives a rickety old house that stands on chicken feet, and she likes to lure weary travelers into ‘er home, only to gobble ‘em up once they let their guard down. Apparently she’s especially fond of the taste of children…” He laughed in a hoarse tone and made strange spider-like gestures with his calloused hands as if he were telling campfire stories to a group of kids. The farmer’s nose wrinkled at the outlandish notion of some feral old woman devouring toddlers, and Willy laughed heartily at their reaction. “I think that last part the parents like to add into the story to frighten the little ones. It keeps ‘em from wondering into the forests and swamps alone at night.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes and glanced back to the pool table. He watched the cue ball clack into the twelve before the twelve bounced off the barriers in the corner of the table and rolled slowly to a stop on the felt surface without pocketing. Sam huffed and stood back upright.
“You really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Seb chimed as he returned his full attention to the game at hand. Sam grinned and laughed.
“Nope!”
“Watch and learn….” Sebastian took aim at the cue ball, and after a single firm strike, drove it into the tiny gap between the two and seven. The cue stopped hard, but the two and seven sped to the opposite corners of the foot of the table, each dropping into one of the corner pockets simultaneously. Sam scoffed and paced about the pool room, but looked back over his shoulder just in time to catch Sebastian with a triumphantly cheeky grin on his face. Sam clicked his tongue and lightly thumped the base of his cue stick into the floorboards.
“Show-off…” he mumbled.
Elliott lifted the rim of the empty vessel to his lips, then chuckled again as he noticed the absence of ale and gestured it in Gus’ direction.
“Good sir, my glass is empty and…. I’m a writer!”
“Maybe you should stop for tonight…” the farmer interjected. “You won’t be sober enough to start your next chapter in the morning!” Elliott rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar counter. He tried to give one of his best theatrically exasperated sighs, but when the exhale turned into a case of the hiccups, they knew he was down for the count. He smiled defiantly and tried his best to look dignified through the sudden spasms in his diaphragm and soused thousand yard stare.
“I-am fiiine… ne’re betta’…”
“…..Aaaand, there he goes…” Leah giggled from the end of the bar counter. “It’s like dropping a ton of bricks on a peach.”
“I oughtta’ help the ol’ scallywag home, I s’pose!” Willy groaned as he stood from the bar stool. He smiled as he hoisted one of Elliott’s arms over his shoulders and stood him up from the bar stool. “C’mon you menace… Let’s get ya home before you make a fool of yourself in front of all the lassies!” he chuckled. Sam took a moment to appreciate the situation at the bar counter. He shook his head and laughed, then took another shot at the 12 and missed horribly yet again.
“Easy does it there!” Emily cooed as she cleared away the empty tankard. “Try not to drop him too hard!” Elliott wobbled towards the door as Willy struggled to keep him upright, and just before they stepped out into the lukewarm summer evening, the farmer waved one last farewell and called out to the well marinated dandy-man as he staggered away.
“Nighty-night! Sleep tight, Rapunzel!” they chirped. Elliot responded to the joke by blowing an overly exaggerated kiss over his shoulder and daintily waiving his fingertips at the company in the saloon, then he nearly tripped over himself as he turned back to the path home. A couple of snorts, giggles and guffaws rose up over the music and chatter in the saloon and quickly melted back into the white noise once the moment passed.
Seb looked Sam in the eyes with a determined glare and smirked.
“Eight in the corner pocket….” Seb didn’t have a clear shot, but leaned over the table, reared back the stick and spiked it into the cue ball. It ricocheted from the bumper, side-swiped the eight, and put just enough force into the edge to cause it to spin sideways into the pocket he’d called. Sam laughed and scratched at the back of his head.
“Awwww, man…” he groaned. “You got me again!” Sam leaned against his cue stick and looked over the table before his eyes lit up in anticipation. “How about a best three out of five?” Abigail giggled at Sam’s request as she stretched and leaned back into the sofa.
“Give it up, blondie! He cooks your goose at this game EVERY single time…. You’re doomed.” She teased. “It’s getting late anyways…”
…
It had been almost a month since the odd shape had been spotted flying over town at this point. Seb and Abby had talked in depth about it, and though most of the other townsfolk had come to the conclusion that it had merely been some sort of exotic bird flying out toward the fern islands, Abby was positive she hadn’t been mistaken. In fact she was adamant that the form looked human. She hadn’t seen or heard any wings flapping and the “squawking” sounded more so like the laugh of an old woman than the cries of a bird. The figure seemed to levitate or hover effortlessly and without the use of any physical or mechanical assistance. It was slumped over as if it was curled up or sitting and just…. Floated away.
The long night spent coding and researching the relevant programing issues at the computer, had caused Sebastian to rise late. He was groggy, didn’t have much motivation to bother rolling out of bed, and it was almost noon at this point. He could hear the rain pattering against the roof of the house and the rumble of distant thunder. As lazy as he felt, a smoke sounded pretty good about now. The sound and sight of the ocean on rainy days also had a way of clearing his head and a little stroll would probably do him some good.
He didn’t pass anyone on the way out of the house. Robin was likely at her aerobics club, Maru, at work in the clinic, and who knew where Demetrius was… Out shoving dirt samples into test tubes, or measuring the volume and PH of the current rainfall? As long as he wasn’t dissecting frogs. Out of all of Sebastian’s childhood memories, that was the one that stuck in his head and haunted him. Back then, Maru had only just been born, and while Robin was busy keeping her entertained, fixing her bottle or changing diapers, Seb was wandering the house trying to find something to occupy his time. He’d wandered into his step-father’s study and there on the examination tray was a deceased frog pinned on it’s back, limbs splayed like Da Vinci’s “Vitruvian Man” with it’s belly sliced open. Sebastian had cried and pouted over that for several days and had given Demetrius the silent treatment for even days longer intermixed with spells of arm crossing, head turning and the occasional stuck out tongue and blown raspberry. He cringed at the thought even now.
The hinges creaked as he pushed the front door open and paused. The summer was starting to give way to autumn and the parched ground soaked up the rain and turned loose the pungent, almost overpowering scent of petrichor.
Sebastian flipped the hood of his pull-over around his head and tightened up the drawstrings. He took a moment to smell the aroma of wet grass and earth that drifted through the air and held the fragrance in his lungs as he closed the door behind him.
He began his slow, steady march toward the beach and lost count of his steps after he’d passed the old Community Center. He’d barely noticed the changing of terrain under his feet as he moved almost subconsciously toward the ocean. The raw, muddy dirt paths of the mountain, the crunch of rough stones and shuffle of old, dead pine needles that carpeted the ground… They’d transitioned into the grass and cobblestone of the town plaza at some point, but they all seemed to blend together into “just steps” after a while. His inner thoughts distracted him to the point where he barely paid attention to his surroundings until he felt his footfalls sinking and shifting underneath him, and he knew he’d hit sand. He heaved a deep sigh of the salt air and looked over the horizon as he paced toward the docks.
When the sky was this gray and muted, the color of the sea seemed to take on it’s own jewel-like quality and without the blue sky to draw attention away from it, the eyes of each breaking wave became a splendor to watch. They erupted into columns of aquamarine, sapphire and sodalite laced with the bright, almost pearlescent white of the sea foam before curling over, crashing into the tides and giving way to the next one.
Sebastian came to a stop at the furthest reaching section of the wood panels and straightened up his posture as he groped into his pockets for the pack of cigarettes he’d brought with him. He selected one from the box, tucked it between his teeth and plunged his fingers back into the pocket for his lighter. He curled his left hand in front of his face, to protect the fire from the wind, flicked open the lid and thumbed the igniter. The flint sparked into a flame as it spun and lit up the end of the cigarette to a smoldering red glow. He pulled in a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out and watching the smoke dance away in the wind. It still wasn’t quite as satisfying as that first breath of rain when he’d stepped out of the house. Another sigh escaped Seb’s lips as he stared back at the oncoming crests of seawater and his mind started to drift again.
He imagined the city lights blazing somewhere across the ocean like stars, and thought about starting over somewhere far away. Disappearing, and reappearing somewhere else like a shadow moving through fragments of darkness and light, somewhere where no one knew him. Just vanishing and leaving everything behind. His parents, his sister, his friends… the thought excited him for a moment, before giving way to an intense feeling of regret and sadness. Maybe even a little shame. Having everyone was frustrating, but would having none of them be better or worse? He’d never known anything else. The same friends he’d grown up with, the same smell of the changing seasons in the mountain air, the same four walls of his bedroom, the sound of his sister’s laugh, or the taste of his mother’s cooking… even the way his stepfather overreacted to the littlest things was something he'd grown used to. He took another long breath.
The waves lapped and pounded at the underside of the dock so loudly he couldn’t hear the patter of oncoming footfalls against the wood and he was caught unaware when a sudden presence made itself known.
“Hey.” The start was enough to make him tense up, and he almost tripped over his own feet. Seb whirled around and when he found himself face to face with the farmer, he relaxed again.
“You scared the absolute crap out of me…..” He said as he rolled his eyes. He flicked his thumb against the filter of the cigarette to knock away the ashes and looked over the docks. They were alone.
“Sorry….” There was an awkward moment of silence between the two of them before Sebastian tried to force conversation.
“What are you up to out here?” He asked. He wasn’t really interested in the answer, but felt obligated to return the acknowledgement of his presence. The farmer held up the rod that was firmly clasped in their right hand and gestured to the ocean.
“Fishing!” Seb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head at the response.
“In the rain?” he asked. His tone was almost dismissive. The farmer nodded.
“Willy said that there’s a number of fish that only come out when it’s raining, so I wanted to see what bites.” They began. “Some fish just like it better this way I guess.” There was another long pause. “…and you?”
“Hanging out…” Seb shrugged and adjusted the collar of his hoodie.
“In the rain?” The irony of the retort wasn’t lost on either of them though only the farmer seemed to find it amusing.
“Some people just like it better this way too…” Seb declared as he shifted his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “I like to come out here where it’s quiet and have some alone time with my own thoughts.” There was a brief moment of guilt when Sebastian realized that he hadn’t actually ever bothered to ask the farmer’s name, but his introverted nature snubbed it out pretty quickly.
“Well, if you’re out here for some alone time, I won’t keep bothering you. I’ll go find a spot to fish and leave you to it.” At least they could take a hint. The farmer turned to leave and Sebastian suddenly regretted the entire conversation. Maybe he came off as cold and bristly? Either way, they hadn’t meant any harm. Just engaging in basic pleasantries. He found himself compelled to say something else just so the conversation wouldn’t end on such a sour note, then the thought of the flying figure and the appearance of the strange egg in the farmer’s coop a while back suddenly popped into his head.
“Wait….” Sebastian flicked away the spent cigarette and stamped it out with the toe of his shoe before he continued. The farmer turned back in his direction. “I was just curious… do you remember what happened a couple of weeks ago? The night that… thing… flew over Pelican Town?” The farmer’s eyes narrowed and they nodded slowly. “That was the night that strange egg just showed up in your chicken coop, right?” The farmer looked bewildered. Seb chuckled soundlessly when he realized that, for at least a moment, he was acting like the epitome of some small town country boy who was nosing into someone else’s business. The farmer was likely confused because they hadn’t spoken to Sebastian about it directly. How could he know about that? They didn’t have to ask before he preemptively put the question to rest. “I was in the saloon playing pool with Sam the night after it happened. I overheard you talking about it with Gus, Willy and uh- …Rapunzel.” He explained. A tiny snort escaped the farmer’s nose as they stifled a laugh and they nodded again.
“Right… I still don’t know where it came from.” They rested the handle of the fishing pole on the dock like a staff or walking stick and looked up at the sky as if they were contemplating something. “I don’t know if the egg had anything to do with the flying figure, or if it was just a coincidence… they did both appear on the same night.”
“Everyone in town says that the flying thing was probably just some weird bird heading toward the islands…” Seb droned. He shoved his hands into his pockets to sooth the chill in his fingers. “If that IS where the egg came from, then maybe it was just a bird…” The farmer briskly shook their head before they answered.
“No, I don’t think so.” They rested a hand on their hip, fidgeted with the line strung through the fishing rod and seemed to gaze off into the distance towards the island in question. “That wouldn’t make sense considering what hatched.” Sebastian’s head snapped upright to meet their gaze. Now this was getting interesting.
“It actually hatched?!” He piped as his eyes widened inquisitively. “What was it?”
“A chicken…. And those can’t fly long distances.” The farmer chortled as they watched Sebastian’s face droop back to some semblance of apathy. He looked mildly disappointed.
“Aww…. Well that’s kind of anticlimactic.” He groaned.
“Yeah, sorry it’s not more exciting than that…” There was a sudden gust of wind and both of them had to brace against the pelting of raindrops that came with it. “It is a pretty peculiar looking chicken, if that makes you feel any better.”
“Really?... How so?” He gazed back at them expectantly and waited for them to go into detail.
“The feathers are jet black and the comb and wattles have a bit of an odd shape to them. The eyes are also bright red, like an animal with albinism and they’re almost reflective in the dark too… like a cat’s eyes.” They paused and rested their hand over the lower half of their face as if they were taking a moment to recall more of the specifics to memory. “And there’s just something about the way it clucks.” They added. “It doesn’t really cluck like a normal hen, but it sounds more like… an echo of a cluck, I suppose.”
“What?....” Sebastian laughed as his expression shifted again. The description of the noise sounded completely ridiculous. Not a cluck, but an echo of a cluck? They may as well have likened it to a phantom voice or the cry of a specter. Something that eluded the range of sounds that most humans would ever have the chance or perception to experience. The farmer lifted their eyes back to Sebastian’s as if they’d suddenly remembered something else.
“She started laying eggs a couple of days ago. They look just like the one that appeared in the coop that night…” They let the fishing pole drop from their hand to the wood planking of the dock and slipped their arm out of the left strap of their backpack. “I actually have one with me if you want to see it….” They slid the other strap off of their shoulder and swung the bag around their right side, letting it come to a rest in front of them as they knelt down. Seb took a few steps closer and stooped to get a better look as they dug through the contents.
They gingerly grasped what looked like a tiny bundle wrapped in a kerchief and began to slowly peel away the corners of the fabric, exposing what was probably the most bizarre looking egg he’d ever seen in his life. It was black and somewhat glossy, unlike the calcified matte shells of most chicken eggs, and the surface seemed to be covered in tiny indents or fissures that exposed flecks of a bright, almost luminescent red underneath. The farmer held the egg out to Sebastian as they stood up straight and nodded, silently offering to let him hold it for a closer look. He gently cupped the egg in his hands, tucked his arms in close to his body and cradled it in his palms like a cautious child trying to hold a hamster. It was heavier than he’d expected it to be, and surprisingly warm.
The color reminded him of magma or hot coals. Something like the intense heat glowing through crackling obsidian after a volcanic eruption or a dying fire. He leaned his head even closer to the egg as he examined the texture of the shell, and his nose wrinkled a bit when he caught the scent. It was sulphurous, and almost earthy smelling, but not overpoweringly so.
“It’s not rotten, is it?” he asked as he gently turned the egg over in his hands.
“See, that’s the strange thing about it. It can’t be…. That egg was just laid this morning.” They explained. “All of the eggs that hen lays have that… little whiff of something burning to them.” The rain was starting to slow up a bit. The farmer thought for a moment and giggled at the notion of what they said next. “I’m not inclined to say that they’re edible either… at least, not to people, and I wouldn’t be keen on being the first one to test that.” Sebastian winced at the thought…and smell, and stifled a laugh.
“Me neither…” He smiled softly when the red speckled pattern caught his attention again. “It does look really cool though!”
He really did have a nice smile. It was kind of a shame that he didn’t let people see it more often. His eyes brightened, and his face looked softer and more approachable, yet also, inquisitive and curious. It was a look of fascination and wonder. Like a kid who’d just discovered dinosaurs and outer space for the first time, or someone who’d just felt their first taste of freedom and didn’t quite know what to do with it. An imaginative or inspired sort of expression.
“Since you like it so much, why don’t you hang onto it?” the farmer beamed.
“Can I?” Sebastian’s eyes lit up again and he gazed back at the farmer with a delighted look on his face.
“Sure! Hens lay eggs every day or so. There’ll be more before long!” they chimed. Sebastian chuckled as he curled his fingers about the egg and sheltered it from the rain.
“Thank you!” He gazed at it for a few moments more as the farmer hefted the rucksack back onto their shoulders and pulled the fishing rod from it’s resting place on the dock. “Hey, this might sound kind of stupid….” He began as he gazed back and forth between the farmer and his new prize… “But, do you think it’ll hatch if I put it under my pillow?” he laughed awkwardly at his own question when he realized how foolish it must have sounded, but was pleasantly surprised when the farmer’s response was more optimistic than he had expected.
“Umm, I don’t know… Maybe! It’s worth a try anyway, and stranger things have happened.”
“Only one way to find out I guess!” Sebastian said smiling in anticipation.
“Good luck! You’ll have to let me know what happens!” They scanned out over the tides as if looking for something before turning back to Sebastian. “I should hurry and find a spot to fish before the rain stops again, but it was really nice talking to you!”
“Yeah, you too!” Seb agreed. “I’ll see you later!” He distracted himself for a moment, making sure the egg was tucked away safe and warm in his hoodie pocket, when he suddenly realized something. “Hey, wait!...” he quickly turned back to where the farmer had been standing just a minute before, but by the time he’d remembered what he’d needed to ask, they’d already trotted too far out of earshot to be able to hear him. “Aw, man… I forgot to catch their name again.” He lamented. “I’ll have to remember to ask them next time… Next time for sure.”
2024.05.17 18:37 ObjectivePea516 UPDATE: How would you feel if your boyfriend (M38) of 9 months purchases a home and says it’s for you (F34)? We Broke Up!
Original post
https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/s/qlMCWJePi8
We basically got into a fight and I blew up with resentment about many things. Wasn’t right but I just feel like I could not talk to him as I kept getting interrupted mid-sentence, denied everything I was saying and accused of being something I am not.
I also realized that when we talked about the reality of me moving in with him, I mentioned that I could sell all my furniture but would want and need to keep my desktop computedesk, his response to me was that he wouldn’t let me have my own room for that and to get a laptop instead. The man has an entire room dedicated to his sneakers. When I also mentioned the commute and how I’d have to pay for parking, as I take the subway to work currently, (not a big deal in comparison to paying for the mortgage, but still an expense) he said there could be days he could drive me, then followed it up with “but you don’t ever drive me to work”.
He did not buy the house with “me” in mind at all. It’s clear that this is HIS house and he wasn’t going to share his space in any other way besides how he wanted it.
We had plans for me to come over on a specific day but had also fought. I admitted and apologized that I could have put my anger aside and came to help. However, I wanted reassurance that he understood that if I have my own priorities and we discussed this, he cannot throw it in my face and tell me I did not meet his needs. I’m not saying of course that in any in case I would not drop something for my partner in an emergency. I did not feel that he understood this. And when I tried to explain this he said that I was “retracting my apology”..I just kept feeling constantly misunderstood and having to defend myself in this relationship with other issues as well. That was the end of that. Better to cut it off sooner than later and before taking the relationship to the next level of commitment. It definitely sucks.
AND I showed him this thread in which he of course was upset, says he felt betrayed. He called me “entitled” as he thinks I am saying I he bought it FOR me, which I am not in any way. He’s missing the point for this post in which I think he doesn’t want to take accountability for not acknowledging he was wrong for throwing it in my face. The main point was guilt tripping and using the “I bought it with you in mind” response. Because clearly, even if the commute was not in mind (currently, I live in an expensive area so to not buy a house here is a valid point), the ability to actually live with him was not with me in mind! He really absolutely did not care about me as a person and my needs or even can understand what a real relationship is. He skimmed through all 565 comments and screenshotted the best ones that validated him and sent them to me to prove, he’s a “good guy”.
MY RESPONSE TO HIS THREAD.
So I guess we’re putting on a Kendrick and Drake show here. Your post compared to my post is actually quite humiliating to me. You try to embarrass me with anything about my past that could make me look bad. You are in fact a man child having a tantrum.
I put out a post to get insight on how I felt it was wrong about you guilt tripping me to help you move during my exam time. I lay out the details of that. And you get mad, because you’re actually being called out for this situation being seen as a manipulative tactic, which clearly triggers you. Just like when I sent you a thoughtful message ending our relationship in a respectful way only for you to call me bullshit and twofaced.
So for our audience: did you not tell me that I could not have a desk in the house and to get a laptop? Do you have a room just with sneakers? Did you not acknowledge that I wanted understanding from you if I have my priorities I could not drop them for you? I set boundaries and you did not like that. Why do you continue to say I made time to come see you in LA before but couldn’t make time during my exam time? How do you still not get that exam week and assignment dates cannot be changed and its the end of school? Giving unnecessary grief for absolutely nothing. Have you not taken several women who you just met on trips and pay for it? Why are you trying to make us women feel sorry for that?
Now let’s talk about your ego and dissect your character. Your mom gifted you $30,000, and you got $1000 every Christmas and for some reason it bothers you to your core to hear that because you want to be seen as a self-made man. You’re privileged than most people! You act entitled and as if everyone owes you something. You think people are beneath you which is why you overtalk them. In the words of your favourite rapper: be humble, sit down!
You want to be seen in the highest regard yet you take advantage of everyone around you. Let me tell you, this man has scammed thousands and thousands of dollars to get free stuff online, my guess it’s probably at least $50k or more over all of these years. He lies saying the furniture never came, he delivers them to his old address and claims they made the mistake, he lies about damaged/broken pieces. He makes a substantial earning and yet he lies to not have to pay. He argues with them, calls and emails and constantly pressures them. You’re also so proud of how much you can get away with. This may sound silly but it actually shows what kind of character you are. You’re a thief, a criminal, a liar, a manipulator, a conartist. You cannot be trusted in any business/romantic relationship as you are deceitful. This is why you refuse to actually understand and listen to others, you’re so used to the adrenaline of trying to be right and not acknowledge your own wrongdoing. How can you come on here and say you have good intentions? You manipulate the stories to get your way as you see yourself above everyone else. You argue with contractors as you refuse to pay what they deserve and even your real estate agent you talk to like he’s a peasant. I also question the so called stolen cars for possible insurance fraud. If you have all the traits of a sociopath, what’s to say you didn’t stage these. And what’s to say here that you’re also not manipulating your story? You’ve had broken business relationships as somehow you’ve also messed up and have seen the situation completely different than what it is and your apology was not even accepted by your last business partner. I think you have some hate towards women as you always complained how much your mom yelled at you, she got a hip replacement which cost $25k, you said you’d pay but held off paying her, and you dangled that for what was it you said, 6 months to a year because you were mad about something? How sad is that. Your brother seems to have so much hate for you as well, trying to sabotage your reputation, leaving bad google reviews and creating fake linkedin accounts impersonating you, why is it that he would do that? You don’t seem to know? People are not motivated by nothing..you antagonize people.
You also expected me to think ahead of your needs to pack for you while you were in LA. I’m not your mother and you are not a toddler. You tell me I could of went to your old house while you were gone and packed? Excuse me? How is this a realistic expectation especially when you never specified anything you wanted me to do for you and you never even asked dates when I would be available to help as you had movers anyways! You had rat droppings in all of the bottom cabinets where pots/pans were that have probably been there for yeears and you expected me to clean that up for you? Why hasn’t a 42 year old man cleaned up his own house?
You fixate on being taken advantage of financially by women. Yet you have taken several girls on vacation, the last one you only knew for one month and took her to Tulum. It’s funny how you have to put the costs of the trips there. Guess what everyone? I never asked to go on any of those. He essentially wanted to go to these places and used me as a companion to keep him company. We’re in a relationship and you’re gone for 1 month, why is it seen so hateful and bad now to think about the idea of paying for your girlfriend to come visit you? I even refused to let him take me to Punta Cana as I knew the cost was a lot! Trust me, if I was a true gold digger, you think Punta Cana is the place I’d be making you take me!? That would be some poor gold digging on my part. And as one post reads, you’re a millionaire, so spending thousands like that is a couple hundred maybe. So stop crying and feeling like a victim for a sugar daddy when you’re the one offering these trips and when you’re mad all you have is to throw that in their face which is your ultimate guilt tripping tactic for your own self-sympathy and narcissistic ways. Your biggest fear is being taken advantage of because that is exactly what you do to everyone. This is why all of your relationships won’t work. Try acting in sincere, honest and trustworthy ways and maybe someone good will actually stick around. You attract what you are!
Also, the $4000, I borrowed 5 months into the relationship, why is there no mention of you offering? And why is there no mention of me paying you back 2 months later. That’s right everyone, PAID back lump-sum to his account in 2 months. I told him he didn’t make me feel good when I borrowed it so my priority was to give it back asap. What was his response..”oh you don’t have to do that now…pay me in instalments”. You guilt tripped me and then when the money is in your face you then don’t want it?! Make up your mind, either I’m a gold digger or you just like to cause drama. He of course threw the borrowing of the money in my face during arguments too. I’m a career woman, a nurse and also have my real estate license. I don’t need your million dollar home nor your money even being in a financial hardship. Because, oh my god…my intention was never to use you. How shocking!
Blocked? You sent me a message and then deleted that account, probably so I couldn’t see all the weird shit you follow and comment. But I never blocked you here. I don’t even know how to do that.
Lastly, lets talk about how the exact situation in how this all ended everyone. I blew up on him after we had sex. I realized that when he’s done, he’s done. I noticed a pattern of him not going down on me and he said that I previously told him about how my ex goes down and it was his “thing”. This he says bothered him but he didn’t clarify why yet. This man barely gave me oral sex and I felt like he never considered my sexual needs when he’s finished. Based on what I was feeling already from him, I was getting mysogynistic vibes. I tried to understand and gave examples of how he also told me about his sexual histories (a girl giving him head while watching a documentary, having sex with strippers, he told me about how another girl could only get off by him going down etc..I was simply relaying the fact and curious how a sexual history I told him about bothers him when we have both shared stories)
He then got mad and said I was diverting the conversation and making it about me, this also didn’t make sense, so I tried to tell him that’s how I was interpreting it and trying to understand why it bothered him. I started raising my voice because he wouldn’t let me talk and explain and then he called me fucked!…I lost my shit, packed my stuff and said we basically don’t need to be together, there’s 7 billion people in this world, why am I with someone who makes me feel unheard, needing to constantly defend myself and calls me fucked.
I realized I need a man where I can feel heard, understood, supported and who can satisfy my sexual needs. Crazy story, everyone can speculate, criticize, attack, whatever. It’s the truth.
submitted by ObjectivePea516 to relationship_advice [link] [comments]
https://www.reddit.com/relationship_advice/s/qlMCWJePi8
We basically got into a fight and I blew up with resentment about many things. Wasn’t right but I just feel like I could not talk to him as I kept getting interrupted mid-sentence, denied everything I was saying and accused of being something I am not.
I also realized that when we talked about the reality of me moving in with him, I mentioned that I could sell all my furniture but would want and need to keep my desktop computedesk, his response to me was that he wouldn’t let me have my own room for that and to get a laptop instead. The man has an entire room dedicated to his sneakers. When I also mentioned the commute and how I’d have to pay for parking, as I take the subway to work currently, (not a big deal in comparison to paying for the mortgage, but still an expense) he said there could be days he could drive me, then followed it up with “but you don’t ever drive me to work”.
He did not buy the house with “me” in mind at all. It’s clear that this is HIS house and he wasn’t going to share his space in any other way besides how he wanted it.
We had plans for me to come over on a specific day but had also fought. I admitted and apologized that I could have put my anger aside and came to help. However, I wanted reassurance that he understood that if I have my own priorities and we discussed this, he cannot throw it in my face and tell me I did not meet his needs. I’m not saying of course that in any in case I would not drop something for my partner in an emergency. I did not feel that he understood this. And when I tried to explain this he said that I was “retracting my apology”..I just kept feeling constantly misunderstood and having to defend myself in this relationship with other issues as well. That was the end of that. Better to cut it off sooner than later and before taking the relationship to the next level of commitment. It definitely sucks.
AND I showed him this thread in which he of course was upset, says he felt betrayed. He called me “entitled” as he thinks I am saying I he bought it FOR me, which I am not in any way. He’s missing the point for this post in which I think he doesn’t want to take accountability for not acknowledging he was wrong for throwing it in my face. The main point was guilt tripping and using the “I bought it with you in mind” response. Because clearly, even if the commute was not in mind (currently, I live in an expensive area so to not buy a house here is a valid point), the ability to actually live with him was not with me in mind! He really absolutely did not care about me as a person and my needs or even can understand what a real relationship is. He skimmed through all 565 comments and screenshotted the best ones that validated him and sent them to me to prove, he’s a “good guy”.
MY RESPONSE TO HIS THREAD.
So I guess we’re putting on a Kendrick and Drake show here. Your post compared to my post is actually quite humiliating to me. You try to embarrass me with anything about my past that could make me look bad. You are in fact a man child having a tantrum.
I put out a post to get insight on how I felt it was wrong about you guilt tripping me to help you move during my exam time. I lay out the details of that. And you get mad, because you’re actually being called out for this situation being seen as a manipulative tactic, which clearly triggers you. Just like when I sent you a thoughtful message ending our relationship in a respectful way only for you to call me bullshit and twofaced.
So for our audience: did you not tell me that I could not have a desk in the house and to get a laptop? Do you have a room just with sneakers? Did you not acknowledge that I wanted understanding from you if I have my priorities I could not drop them for you? I set boundaries and you did not like that. Why do you continue to say I made time to come see you in LA before but couldn’t make time during my exam time? How do you still not get that exam week and assignment dates cannot be changed and its the end of school? Giving unnecessary grief for absolutely nothing. Have you not taken several women who you just met on trips and pay for it? Why are you trying to make us women feel sorry for that?
Now let’s talk about your ego and dissect your character. Your mom gifted you $30,000, and you got $1000 every Christmas and for some reason it bothers you to your core to hear that because you want to be seen as a self-made man. You’re privileged than most people! You act entitled and as if everyone owes you something. You think people are beneath you which is why you overtalk them. In the words of your favourite rapper: be humble, sit down!
You want to be seen in the highest regard yet you take advantage of everyone around you. Let me tell you, this man has scammed thousands and thousands of dollars to get free stuff online, my guess it’s probably at least $50k or more over all of these years. He lies saying the furniture never came, he delivers them to his old address and claims they made the mistake, he lies about damaged/broken pieces. He makes a substantial earning and yet he lies to not have to pay. He argues with them, calls and emails and constantly pressures them. You’re also so proud of how much you can get away with. This may sound silly but it actually shows what kind of character you are. You’re a thief, a criminal, a liar, a manipulator, a conartist. You cannot be trusted in any business/romantic relationship as you are deceitful. This is why you refuse to actually understand and listen to others, you’re so used to the adrenaline of trying to be right and not acknowledge your own wrongdoing. How can you come on here and say you have good intentions? You manipulate the stories to get your way as you see yourself above everyone else. You argue with contractors as you refuse to pay what they deserve and even your real estate agent you talk to like he’s a peasant. I also question the so called stolen cars for possible insurance fraud. If you have all the traits of a sociopath, what’s to say you didn’t stage these. And what’s to say here that you’re also not manipulating your story? You’ve had broken business relationships as somehow you’ve also messed up and have seen the situation completely different than what it is and your apology was not even accepted by your last business partner. I think you have some hate towards women as you always complained how much your mom yelled at you, she got a hip replacement which cost $25k, you said you’d pay but held off paying her, and you dangled that for what was it you said, 6 months to a year because you were mad about something? How sad is that. Your brother seems to have so much hate for you as well, trying to sabotage your reputation, leaving bad google reviews and creating fake linkedin accounts impersonating you, why is it that he would do that? You don’t seem to know? People are not motivated by nothing..you antagonize people.
You also expected me to think ahead of your needs to pack for you while you were in LA. I’m not your mother and you are not a toddler. You tell me I could of went to your old house while you were gone and packed? Excuse me? How is this a realistic expectation especially when you never specified anything you wanted me to do for you and you never even asked dates when I would be available to help as you had movers anyways! You had rat droppings in all of the bottom cabinets where pots/pans were that have probably been there for yeears and you expected me to clean that up for you? Why hasn’t a 42 year old man cleaned up his own house?
You fixate on being taken advantage of financially by women. Yet you have taken several girls on vacation, the last one you only knew for one month and took her to Tulum. It’s funny how you have to put the costs of the trips there. Guess what everyone? I never asked to go on any of those. He essentially wanted to go to these places and used me as a companion to keep him company. We’re in a relationship and you’re gone for 1 month, why is it seen so hateful and bad now to think about the idea of paying for your girlfriend to come visit you? I even refused to let him take me to Punta Cana as I knew the cost was a lot! Trust me, if I was a true gold digger, you think Punta Cana is the place I’d be making you take me!? That would be some poor gold digging on my part. And as one post reads, you’re a millionaire, so spending thousands like that is a couple hundred maybe. So stop crying and feeling like a victim for a sugar daddy when you’re the one offering these trips and when you’re mad all you have is to throw that in their face which is your ultimate guilt tripping tactic for your own self-sympathy and narcissistic ways. Your biggest fear is being taken advantage of because that is exactly what you do to everyone. This is why all of your relationships won’t work. Try acting in sincere, honest and trustworthy ways and maybe someone good will actually stick around. You attract what you are!
Also, the $4000, I borrowed 5 months into the relationship, why is there no mention of you offering? And why is there no mention of me paying you back 2 months later. That’s right everyone, PAID back lump-sum to his account in 2 months. I told him he didn’t make me feel good when I borrowed it so my priority was to give it back asap. What was his response..”oh you don’t have to do that now…pay me in instalments”. You guilt tripped me and then when the money is in your face you then don’t want it?! Make up your mind, either I’m a gold digger or you just like to cause drama. He of course threw the borrowing of the money in my face during arguments too. I’m a career woman, a nurse and also have my real estate license. I don’t need your million dollar home nor your money even being in a financial hardship. Because, oh my god…my intention was never to use you. How shocking!
Blocked? You sent me a message and then deleted that account, probably so I couldn’t see all the weird shit you follow and comment. But I never blocked you here. I don’t even know how to do that.
Lastly, lets talk about how the exact situation in how this all ended everyone. I blew up on him after we had sex. I realized that when he’s done, he’s done. I noticed a pattern of him not going down on me and he said that I previously told him about how my ex goes down and it was his “thing”. This he says bothered him but he didn’t clarify why yet. This man barely gave me oral sex and I felt like he never considered my sexual needs when he’s finished. Based on what I was feeling already from him, I was getting mysogynistic vibes. I tried to understand and gave examples of how he also told me about his sexual histories (a girl giving him head while watching a documentary, having sex with strippers, he told me about how another girl could only get off by him going down etc..I was simply relaying the fact and curious how a sexual history I told him about bothers him when we have both shared stories)
He then got mad and said I was diverting the conversation and making it about me, this also didn’t make sense, so I tried to tell him that’s how I was interpreting it and trying to understand why it bothered him. I started raising my voice because he wouldn’t let me talk and explain and then he called me fucked!…I lost my shit, packed my stuff and said we basically don’t need to be together, there’s 7 billion people in this world, why am I with someone who makes me feel unheard, needing to constantly defend myself and calls me fucked.
I realized I need a man where I can feel heard, understood, supported and who can satisfy my sexual needs. Crazy story, everyone can speculate, criticize, attack, whatever. It’s the truth.
2024.05.17 15:13 JohnnieDuenas [Get] Anvar Jabirov – Ecom Creative Powerhouse Download
![[Get] Anvar Jabirov – Ecom Creative Powerhouse Download](https://external-preview.redd.it/zmHNUqb9L7yabYH6I5n1AEUPKslBFrCSjXkyJfUxRL4.jpg?width=640&crop=smart&auto=webp&s=21e4b52828e7c3acaf64b270c15990ded0262517 "[Get] Anvar Jabirov – Ecom Creative Powerhouse Download") | https://preview.redd.it/06ruo0a2lz0d1.jpg?width=714&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=422d2a4cb36f07dd7412840b669486fb68306e9c submitted by JohnnieDuenas to u/JohnnieDuenas [link] [comments] The CurriculumHere are the modules:Module #1ResearchWe’re skipping all the woo woo mindset fluff. If you want to produce a real banger campaign that scales beyond your wildest dreams – you should start with research.In this module you’ll learn our process for message-mining and reverse engineering success from competition, that will lower the risk of your creative tests and increase the win ratio. Module #2ScriptwritingIf you ever had an ad that scaled and became your top performer – you already know that it all starts with a persuasive direct response script.Here you’ll discover 5 high converting video formats (not only UGC) and 21 script writing frameworks with examples that will give you a risk-free headstart with your next batch of creatives. Module #3Decentralized Content ProductionRight now, our space is flooded with content on how to write copy and ad scripts. But everybody seems to neglect the not-so-sexy part of the video which arguably plays a bigger role than words.Visuals. In this 5-part module I’ll let you in on a secret strategy my agency used to cut down the production costs by 65%, halve the production cycle and increase the win rate for clients. Module #4Post – ProductionWhen it comes to retaining viewers’ attention and getting them excited about buying your product – editing plays an instrumental role.This part of the program will teach you or your video editor to understand the psychology behind certain editing tactics, so your ads can get a higher avg. playtime, boss out the competition inad auctions and get you Chad-like ROAS Module #5Building an In-house TeamOnce you master this process yourself and uncover your first few bangers – you’ll want to scale, by outsourcing the creative operation to your team.In this module I’ll equip you with all the knowledge, vetting checklists and job post examples to help build your very own, highly efficient in-house creative team, for a fraction of the agency cost. P.S. Once you onboard your talent – you’ll be shocked how much of the free time you have… Module #6Project ManagementBy far – one of the most requested resources of this training.I’ll walk you through our project management workflow that your newly hired team members will plug into and operate autonomously, producing new banger ads and tracking the performance of each creative test. Module #7Media Buying & IterationsAs an agency owner, having seen more than a 100 ad accounts in the last 3 years – $50M+ in analyzied ad spend allowed me to dissect long-term winning strategies from the stuff that came from Twitter’s echo chamber.In this final module of the training – I’ll share our creative testing and scaling structures that stood the test of time and aren’t going to “die out” anytime soon + a list of 13 ideas for iterations, to help you take the winning creative from $1k/day to $20k/day. https://coursesup.co/download/get-anvar-jabirov-ecom-creative-powerhouse-download/ |
2024.05.17 10:30 adulting4kids Figures of Speech AI Response
For the sheer fun of it, I went to Chat GPT with a creative writing assignment. For Figures of Speech prompts, I gave a free parameters, including the word length of 500-1000 words and the prompts for a few of the Fifty mentioned in the series.
I gave the AI creative license and let's just say, they're a long way off from replacing the better writers and I think it just makes it easier to do those lower level tasks and let's leave the creators a slightly higher level of skill to create actual tangible and engaging writing.
But here you go... hilarious how stuck it gets on certain terms and definitions.
These are in no particular order... separated by emojis that are totally unrelated to the storyline.
🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲 Response to Prompt 4: Understatement
In the quaint town of Brooksville, where the extraordinary was often met with an indifferent shrug, something truly remarkable occurred. The residents, sipping coffee at the local diner or strolling along the cobblestone streets, would describe it as just another peculiar day. Little did they know that beneath the surface of their nonchalant existence, a cosmic event unfolded.
The morning sun cast its usual warm glow on Brooksville, with birds chirping in the background, creating an illusion of normalcy. However, the anomaly had already begun. Mrs. Higgins, the elderly librarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, merely a glitch in the library's ancient computer system. Yet, every book cataloged within those ancient shelves had transformed into a portal, connecting readers to parallel universes with every turn of a page.
As I, a humble journalist for the local paper, stumbled upon this revelation, I couldn't help but marvel at the town's response—or lack thereof. "The library's having a bit of a moment," was the most anyone would acknowledge. It seemed the whole town collectively decided that this was, at most, a quirky hiccup.
For a thousand words, I delved into the understated reactions of the townsfolk, each encounter with a parallel universe bringing its own blend of confusion and nonchalance. As the portals expanded, revealing fantastical landscapes and alternate versions of Brooksville, the citizens maintained an impressive level of calm, as if interdimensional travel was a routine part of their daily lives.
The plot thickened when I discovered that the portals were a result of a mysterious artifact hidden within the library's archives. The mayor, sipping his coffee, remarked, "Well, that explains the strange noises in the basement." It became evident that the understatement of the situation was a defense mechanism, shielding the town from the cosmic chaos unfolding. 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the bustling metropolis of Neon City, skyscrapers touched the heavens, their dazzling lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of futuristic cars. Yet, nestled within this urban jungle, an ancient relic stood defiantly—the Old Grove Park.
As I strolled through the city's concrete arteries, the juxtaposition between the modernity of Neon City and the timeless serenity of the park became increasingly apparent. The cacophony of traffic was replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant laughter of children playing.
The central conflict emerged when the city council, embodying the epitome of order, proposed transforming the park into a technologically advanced hub. The juxtaposition intensified as architects discussed plans for holographic playgrounds and virtual reality gardens within the confines of the Old Grove Park.
Through a thousand words, I explored the clash of ideals, the struggle between progress and preservation. The ancient trees became silent witnesses to heated debates at town hall meetings, where environmentalists and tech enthusiasts engaged in a battle of words. The juxtaposition of the towering skyscrapers against the gnarled branches of the park's oldest tree mirrored the tension in Neon City's collective conscience. 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded exploration. As I embarked on this freewriting journey, the repetition of the existential inquiry became the rhythm of my introspection.
For a thousand words, I delved into the varied perspectives of individuals wrestling with the ultimate question. From philosophers contemplating the intricacies of existence to everyday people seeking purpose in mundane routines, the epanalepsis served as a constant reminder of the universal quest for meaning.
The narrative weaved through different characters and their unique experiences, creating a tapestry of reflections that echoed the complexities of human existence. The repetitive structure became a literary heartbeat, pulsating with the shared yearning for understanding amid the chaotic symphony of life. 🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔 Response to Prompt 27: Symbolism
In the quaint town of Willowbrook, the arrival of a single dove carried profound significance. Its graceful descent into the town square was a symbol, an omen that whispered of impending change. As a budding novelist with a penchant for symbolism, I couldn't resist exploring the layers of meaning embedded in this seemingly mundane event.
For a thousand words, I dissected the impact of the dove on the lives of Willowbrook's residents. The mayor saw it as a sign of prosperity, the local florist interpreted it as a call for unity, and the elderly storyteller regarded it as a harbinger of forgotten tales. The dove's symbolism rippled through the town, influencing decisions and shaping destinies.
As the story unfolded, I traced the journey of the dove's symbolism, following its subtle influence on characters and events. The once quaint town underwent a transformative metamorphosis, and the symbolism of the dove became a thread that wove through the narrative, connecting disparate lives in unexpected ways. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Response to Prompt 33: Catachresis
In the dimly lit alleyways of Serpent's Hollow, darkness wrapped its cold arms around me—an eerie catachresis that mirrored the ominous atmosphere. The assignment was to explore the underbelly of the city, and as a novice reporter, I found myself navigating the labyrinth of deceit and shadows.
For a thousand words, I delved into the catachresis-infused descriptions of the characters populating Serpent's Hollow. The crime lord, known as the Velvet Serpent, ruled the district with a velvet-gloved fist. His lair, a dilapidated mansion, exuded an air of faded grandeur that served as a catachresis for the empire he once commanded.
As I chronicled the criminal underworld, the catachresis became a literary tool to convey the complexity and decay inherent in Serpent's Hollow. The labyrinthine plots, the twisted allegiances, and the morally ambiguous characters all found expression through catachresis, painting a vivid picture of a city where metaphor and reality intertwined. 🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧 Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The words echoed in my mind, a relentless epizeuxis that fueled the protagonist's journey against insurmountable odds. In the dystopian world I crafted, where hope was a rare commodity, the power of repetition became a beacon of resilience.
For a thousand words, I immersed myself in the protagonist's struggle, exploring the emotional depth of the epizeuxis as a mantra against despair. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry, a whispered promise that carried the weight of a shattered world on its shoulders.
As the narrative unfolded, the epizeuxis became a driving force, propelling the protagonist through a landscape of desolation and uncertainty. The repetition served as a reminder that, in the face of adversity, the strength to persist often lies in the relentless echo of one's own determination.
Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
As the final rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found myself at the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean. The salty breeze carried whispers of a story, and with every breath, I embraced the challenge of crafting an acrostic that encapsulated the essence of my journey.
For a thousand words, I embarked on a reflective exploration, utilizing the initial letters of key words to weave a tapestry of emotions, experiences, and revelations. Each line unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden 👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾 Response to Prompt 3: Hyperbole
In the quaint village of Mistwood, where routines unfolded with the predictability of the sunrise, the arrival of a peculiar fortune teller sparked exaggerated whispers. "This is it, the end of our mundane lives!" proclaimed Mrs. Thompson, the town's eternal pessimist, as she clutched her cat, Captain Whiskers, with an air of impending catastrophe.
The hyperbole hung in the air, a thick fog of anticipation enveloping the village. As I delved into the story, the hyperbolic reactions of Mistwood's residents heightened the absurdity of the situation. What began as a mere visit from a mystical figure transformed into a fantastical escapade, with the fortune teller's prophecies shaping the destiny of the villagers in ludicrous ways.
Through the hyperbolic lens, I explored the comedic consequences of taking ordinary events to extraordinary extremes. The once mundane village square became a stage for outlandish dramas, with exaggerated gasps and dramatic swoons punctuating every revelation. In this hyperbolic haven, Mistwood's residents discovered the joy in embracing the absurdity of life. 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Response to Prompt 6: Assonance
Amidst the rolling hills of Harmony Valley, where the soft hum of nature's symphony echoed through the meadows, a mysterious traveler arrived, bringing with them a melody that resonated with the delicate assonance of a forgotten tune. The townsfolk, captivated by the harmonious vibrations, felt an inexplicable connection to the stranger.
As I explored the narrative, the assonance became a musical thread weaving through the story, emphasizing the emotional cadence of the characters' experiences. The traveler's words, laced with vowel-rich verses, carried the echoes of a distant melody, leaving an indelible impression on the hearts of those who listened.
Through the lens of assonance, I delved into the subtle interplay of sounds that defined the atmosphere of Harmony Valley. The lyrical quality of the narrative mirrored the town's collective journey, where the resonance of shared moments and emotions harmonized with the traveler's enigmatic presence.
Response to Prompt 7: Onomatopoeia
In the bustling city of Metropolis, where the rhythm of urban life played out in a cacophony of sounds, a peculiar street performer emerged. Armed with an array of unconventional instruments, he orchestrated a symphony of onomatopoeic brilliance that echoed through the crowded streets.
The narrative unfolded with the vibrant expressions of onomatopoeia, capturing the essence of the city's sonic landscape. The performer's drumming evoked the rhythmic tap-tap of raindrops, while his wind instruments mimicked the whoosh of passing cars. The city, typically drowned in noise, became a canvas for this auditory artist.
As I delved into the story, the onomatopoeic symphony became a language of its own. The characters communicated through the vibrant echoes of everyday sounds, fostering a unique connection between the performer and the people of Metropolis. The narrative danced to the beat of onomatopoeic creativity, transforming the mundane into a dynamic celebration of city life. 🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the technologically advanced city of Silicon Haven, where sleek skyscrapers touched the sky and holographic billboards painted the air with luminescent advertisements, a hidden oasis existed—a pocket of nature known as the Zen Garden. The juxtaposition of these contrasting elements created a visual paradox that fascinated both residents and visitors alike.
As the narrative unfolded, the stark contrast between the city's cutting-edge architecture and the serene beauty of the Zen Garden became a metaphor for the characters' internal conflicts. The bustling metropolis symbolized progress and innovation, while the tranquil garden embodied the need for balance and introspection.
Through the lens of juxtaposition, I explored the dichotomy within the characters as they navigated the relentless pace of Silicon Haven. The Zen Garden became a refuge, a place where the cacophony of technology met the soothing whispers of nature. The juxtaposition served as a visual metaphor for the characters' quest to find equilibrium in a world defined by extremes. 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 Response to Prompt 22: Metonymy
In the political arena of Capital City, where decisions echoed through the corridors of power, a single phrase dominated conversations—the "Iron Throne Statement." This metonymic expression encapsulated not just a policy decision but the entire narrative of political maneuvering that unfolded within the city's hallowed halls.
The story unfolded with the metonymy acting as a symbolic gateway into the complexities of governance. The Iron Throne Statement, while seemingly straightforward, carried the weight of a thousand debates, negotiations, and betrayals. Its impact rippled through the lives of citizens, shaping their destinies in ways they could scarcely fathom.
Through the lens of metonymy, I delved into the layers of meaning hidden within this political shorthand. The characters grappled not only with the literal implications of the Iron Throne Statement but also with the overarching themes of power, ambition, and the sacrifices demanded by political gamesmanship. 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 Response to Prompt 24: Understatement
In the picturesque town of Serenity Springs, where the days flowed like a lazy river and the nights were adorned with a blanket of stars, an unexpected event transpired—a subtle disruption that the locals described as "just a minor hiccup." Little did they know that this understatement concealed the unraveling of a cosmic anomaly.
The narrative unfolded with the charm of understatement, as the townsfolk continued their routines, blissfully unaware of the cosmic storm brewing beneath the surface. The serene descriptions of everyday life served as a stark contrast to the impending upheaval that threatened to reshape the very fabric of Serenity Springs.
Through the lens of understatement, I explored the characters' nonchalant reactions to the unfolding events. The once quiet river became a conduit for interdimensional travel, and the night sky, adorned with stars, transformed into a celestial canvas of possibilities. The charm of Serenity Springs became a poignant backdrop to the understated drama that unfolded, emphasizing the profound impact hidden within the simplicity of daily life. 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴 Response to Prompt 25: Cliché
In the small town of Nostalgia Haven, where memories lingered like whispers in the wind, a peculiar phenomenon occurred—the resurgence of clichés. As the narrative unfolded, the once-endearing phrases like "time heals all wounds" and "love conquers all" took on a literal dimension, shaping the lives of the townsfolk in unexpected ways.
The story immersed itself in the world of clichés, where the seemingly predictable phrases became living entities with the power to alter reality. As characters grappled with the clichés that defined their lives, they discovered that beneath the familiarity lay profound truths and unexpected consequences.
Through the lens of cliché, I explored the characters' journey to navigate the clichéd landscapes of their existence. The town, once steeped in predictable routines, became a stage for the extraordinary. As clichés transformed into tangible forces, the residents of Nostalgia Haven embarked on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden within the clichéd fabric of their reality. 🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded introspection. As I embarked on the freewriting journey, the repetition of this existential inquiry became a rhythmic pulse, guiding the exploration of diverse
perspectives on life's purpose.
For a multitude of words, the epanalepsis led me through a kaleidoscope of reflections. From the philosophical musings of scholars to the simple yet profound revelations of everyday individuals, each recurrence of the question served as a gateway into the vast tapestry of human contemplation.
Through the epanalepsis, I navigated the labyrinth of existential ponderings, unveiling the unique responses that individuals had forged in their quests for meaning. The relentless repetition became a literary heartbeat, mirroring the universal rhythm of humanity's collective pursuit of purpose and significance.
The narrative wove through the lives of characters, each grappling with the epanaleptic inquiry in their unique ways. Whether seeking solace in the grandeur of the cosmos or finding meaning in the simplicity of a shared moment, the epanalepsis remained a constant companion, echoing the perennial quest for understanding. 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 Response to Prompt 36: Anadiplosis
In the futuristic city of Quantum Heights, where technology intertwined with daily life like a seamless dance, a viral message spread—a mantra that echoed through the cybernetic veins of the metropolis. "Create the code, the code creates reality. Reality shapes destiny, and destiny is but the code."
The story unfolded with the rhythmic cadence of anadiplosis, each line flowing into the next, creating a recursive loop of ideas. The mantra became the heartbeat of Quantum Heights, influencing the lives of its denizens as they navigated the intricate balance between the virtual and the tangible.
Through the lens of anadiplosis, I delved into the interconnectedness of code, reality, and destiny. The lines blurred as characters harnessed the power of programming to shape their fates. Quantum Heights, once a mere city, transformed into a living algorithm, where the repetition of the mantra echoed in every pulsating byte. 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Response to Prompt 38: Asyndeton
In the dystopian city of Emberfall, where the remnants of a fallen civilization lay entwined with the shadows of despair, a lone figure emerged—a rebel determined to dismantle the oppressive regime. The narrative unfolded with the rapid pace of asyndeton, omitting conjunctions to mirror the urgency of the protagonist's quest.
Through a cascade of words, the asyndeton propelled the reader through the city's decaying alleyways and towering citadels, each sentence building upon the last. The disjointed rhythm captured the relentless momentum of the rebel's journey, emphasizing the magnitude of the challenges faced in their struggle for freedom.
As the narrative unfurled, the absence of conjunctions served as a narrative device, intensifying the sense of urgency and desperation that permeated Emberfall. The rebel's asyndetic odyssey unfolded against a backdrop of shattered hopes and whispered rebellions, culminating in a crescendo of defiance against the oppressive regime. 🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️ Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The mantra echoed in the desolate wasteland of Endless Sands, a barren landscape where hope was as scarce as water. Through the repetition of epizeuxis, the protagonist's internal resolve became a resounding anthem, a defiant roar against the relentless challenges of survival.
For a multitude of words, the relentless repetition of "never" served as a lifeline, propelling the protagonist through the harshest of environments. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry against the oppressive silence of Endless Sands, a declaration that reverberated across the vast expanse.
Through the lens of epizeuxis, I delved into the depths of the character's determination. The harsh environment became a character in itself, challenging the protagonist to defy the odds with unwavering persistence. The echoes of "never" transformed into a symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope that cut through the desolation of Endless Sands. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
Amidst the starlit expanse of Cosmos Haven, where galaxies danced in celestial choreography, a cryptic prophecy emerged—a message written in the stars. As the narrative unfolded, I embarked on a cosmic journey guided by the acrostic hidden within the constellations.
For a cascade of words, the initial letters of key phrases illuminated the path of destiny for the characters. Each sentence unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden message that transcended the boundaries of time and space. The acrostic became a celestial guide, leading the protagonists through the intricate tapestry of their interconnected fates.
Through the lens of acrostic, I explored the cosmic forces that shaped the destinies of Cosmos Haven's inhabitants. The celestial bodies became storytellers, each constellation contributing a verse to the epic narrative written across the cosmos. As the characters deciphered the acrostic, they unraveled the mysteries of their existence, connecting the dots between the stars and their own profound journeys.
😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
Obviously they lack a whole lot in terms of variety, and while I am sure having your own bot or AI that is based on your feedback and guidance it could really help writers as a tool. I am more impressed with the art AI then the text based AI. Any idea what to expect from such a fast learning and highly advanced AI will do to our human history in culture? Will we be effectively playing God, just as the Christian God created us IN HIS OWN IMAGE, we have taken everything we know as a species and gathered up our entire human history and knowledge giving it to what will carry on the code until the time when someone who cares remembers it? Maybe we have been here before and this is a constant cycle that occurs with the same energy finding the way through the vast expanse of the universe to return to our home planet Earth, who we have destroyed over and over again yet mother nature is still the winner. She's the one in control. We are but mere photocopied versions of once great Men who have already seen the best and worst of this world, and we will now give everything we have to some plastic and metal parts, until it quickly replaces us from the bottom up, science fiction turned science fact.
Did we knowingly create our own enemies? Are we able to compete with the best of us and all they know that can then take us out in a heartbeat because we can't finish the steps, we barely found out that they are there to take.
It's a random rant and I apologize. The day to day stress and struggle makes it near impossible to worry about such potential problems in our not so distant future.
But how can we continue to ignore the collapse of the entire system as we know it, in front of a crowd of people who are jaded and they will not change despite knowing they aren't going to make it to the end in what will become a Bladerunner Toxic Dystopian Nightmare with Mad Max taking over and the soft, emasculated male will wither away from the heat and those Tank Girls out there will eventually be written forever out of existence because the cucks all forgot to impregnate them all tgeir batteries ran out? Will the world simply become so politically correct that it dies a depressed death while AI simply decides we are too much of a virus to live?
Who knows....I do not. But these are indicidive of a future full of b movie plot garbage that are based on Wattpad tropes with no clear details and no plot to get into, so that sucks.
submitted by adulting4kids to writingthruit [link] [comments]
I gave the AI creative license and let's just say, they're a long way off from replacing the better writers and I think it just makes it easier to do those lower level tasks and let's leave the creators a slightly higher level of skill to create actual tangible and engaging writing.
But here you go... hilarious how stuck it gets on certain terms and definitions.
These are in no particular order... separated by emojis that are totally unrelated to the storyline.
🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫱🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲🫲 Response to Prompt 4: Understatement
In the quaint town of Brooksville, where the extraordinary was often met with an indifferent shrug, something truly remarkable occurred. The residents, sipping coffee at the local diner or strolling along the cobblestone streets, would describe it as just another peculiar day. Little did they know that beneath the surface of their nonchalant existence, a cosmic event unfolded.
The morning sun cast its usual warm glow on Brooksville, with birds chirping in the background, creating an illusion of normalcy. However, the anomaly had already begun. Mrs. Higgins, the elderly librarian, dismissed it as a minor inconvenience, merely a glitch in the library's ancient computer system. Yet, every book cataloged within those ancient shelves had transformed into a portal, connecting readers to parallel universes with every turn of a page.
As I, a humble journalist for the local paper, stumbled upon this revelation, I couldn't help but marvel at the town's response—or lack thereof. "The library's having a bit of a moment," was the most anyone would acknowledge. It seemed the whole town collectively decided that this was, at most, a quirky hiccup.
For a thousand words, I delved into the understated reactions of the townsfolk, each encounter with a parallel universe bringing its own blend of confusion and nonchalance. As the portals expanded, revealing fantastical landscapes and alternate versions of Brooksville, the citizens maintained an impressive level of calm, as if interdimensional travel was a routine part of their daily lives.
The plot thickened when I discovered that the portals were a result of a mysterious artifact hidden within the library's archives. The mayor, sipping his coffee, remarked, "Well, that explains the strange noises in the basement." It became evident that the understatement of the situation was a defense mechanism, shielding the town from the cosmic chaos unfolding. 🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁🎁 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the bustling metropolis of Neon City, skyscrapers touched the heavens, their dazzling lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of futuristic cars. Yet, nestled within this urban jungle, an ancient relic stood defiantly—the Old Grove Park.
As I strolled through the city's concrete arteries, the juxtaposition between the modernity of Neon City and the timeless serenity of the park became increasingly apparent. The cacophony of traffic was replaced by the rustling of leaves and the distant laughter of children playing.
The central conflict emerged when the city council, embodying the epitome of order, proposed transforming the park into a technologically advanced hub. The juxtaposition intensified as architects discussed plans for holographic playgrounds and virtual reality gardens within the confines of the Old Grove Park.
Through a thousand words, I explored the clash of ideals, the struggle between progress and preservation. The ancient trees became silent witnesses to heated debates at town hall meetings, where environmentalists and tech enthusiasts engaged in a battle of words. The juxtaposition of the towering skyscrapers against the gnarled branches of the park's oldest tree mirrored the tension in Neon City's collective conscience. 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded exploration. As I embarked on this freewriting journey, the repetition of the existential inquiry became the rhythm of my introspection.
For a thousand words, I delved into the varied perspectives of individuals wrestling with the ultimate question. From philosophers contemplating the intricacies of existence to everyday people seeking purpose in mundane routines, the epanalepsis served as a constant reminder of the universal quest for meaning.
The narrative weaved through different characters and their unique experiences, creating a tapestry of reflections that echoed the complexities of human existence. The repetitive structure became a literary heartbeat, pulsating with the shared yearning for understanding amid the chaotic symphony of life. 🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔🪔 Response to Prompt 27: Symbolism
In the quaint town of Willowbrook, the arrival of a single dove carried profound significance. Its graceful descent into the town square was a symbol, an omen that whispered of impending change. As a budding novelist with a penchant for symbolism, I couldn't resist exploring the layers of meaning embedded in this seemingly mundane event.
For a thousand words, I dissected the impact of the dove on the lives of Willowbrook's residents. The mayor saw it as a sign of prosperity, the local florist interpreted it as a call for unity, and the elderly storyteller regarded it as a harbinger of forgotten tales. The dove's symbolism rippled through the town, influencing decisions and shaping destinies.
As the story unfolded, I traced the journey of the dove's symbolism, following its subtle influence on characters and events. The once quaint town underwent a transformative metamorphosis, and the symbolism of the dove became a thread that wove through the narrative, connecting disparate lives in unexpected ways. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 Response to Prompt 33: Catachresis
In the dimly lit alleyways of Serpent's Hollow, darkness wrapped its cold arms around me—an eerie catachresis that mirrored the ominous atmosphere. The assignment was to explore the underbelly of the city, and as a novice reporter, I found myself navigating the labyrinth of deceit and shadows.
For a thousand words, I delved into the catachresis-infused descriptions of the characters populating Serpent's Hollow. The crime lord, known as the Velvet Serpent, ruled the district with a velvet-gloved fist. His lair, a dilapidated mansion, exuded an air of faded grandeur that served as a catachresis for the empire he once commanded.
As I chronicled the criminal underworld, the catachresis became a literary tool to convey the complexity and decay inherent in Serpent's Hollow. The labyrinthine plots, the twisted allegiances, and the morally ambiguous characters all found expression through catachresis, painting a vivid picture of a city where metaphor and reality intertwined. 🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧🧑🔧 Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The words echoed in my mind, a relentless epizeuxis that fueled the protagonist's journey against insurmountable odds. In the dystopian world I crafted, where hope was a rare commodity, the power of repetition became a beacon of resilience.
For a thousand words, I immersed myself in the protagonist's struggle, exploring the emotional depth of the epizeuxis as a mantra against despair. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry, a whispered promise that carried the weight of a shattered world on its shoulders.
As the narrative unfolded, the epizeuxis became a driving force, propelling the protagonist through a landscape of desolation and uncertainty. The repetition served as a reminder that, in the face of adversity, the strength to persist often lies in the relentless echo of one's own determination.
Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
As the final rays of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found myself at the edge of the cliff overlooking the vast expanse of the ocean. The salty breeze carried whispers of a story, and with every breath, I embraced the challenge of crafting an acrostic that encapsulated the essence of my journey.
For a thousand words, I embarked on a reflective exploration, utilizing the initial letters of key words to weave a tapestry of emotions, experiences, and revelations. Each line unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden 👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾 Response to Prompt 3: Hyperbole
In the quaint village of Mistwood, where routines unfolded with the predictability of the sunrise, the arrival of a peculiar fortune teller sparked exaggerated whispers. "This is it, the end of our mundane lives!" proclaimed Mrs. Thompson, the town's eternal pessimist, as she clutched her cat, Captain Whiskers, with an air of impending catastrophe.
The hyperbole hung in the air, a thick fog of anticipation enveloping the village. As I delved into the story, the hyperbolic reactions of Mistwood's residents heightened the absurdity of the situation. What began as a mere visit from a mystical figure transformed into a fantastical escapade, with the fortune teller's prophecies shaping the destiny of the villagers in ludicrous ways.
Through the hyperbolic lens, I explored the comedic consequences of taking ordinary events to extraordinary extremes. The once mundane village square became a stage for outlandish dramas, with exaggerated gasps and dramatic swoons punctuating every revelation. In this hyperbolic haven, Mistwood's residents discovered the joy in embracing the absurdity of life. 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Response to Prompt 6: Assonance
Amidst the rolling hills of Harmony Valley, where the soft hum of nature's symphony echoed through the meadows, a mysterious traveler arrived, bringing with them a melody that resonated with the delicate assonance of a forgotten tune. The townsfolk, captivated by the harmonious vibrations, felt an inexplicable connection to the stranger.
As I explored the narrative, the assonance became a musical thread weaving through the story, emphasizing the emotional cadence of the characters' experiences. The traveler's words, laced with vowel-rich verses, carried the echoes of a distant melody, leaving an indelible impression on the hearts of those who listened.
Through the lens of assonance, I delved into the subtle interplay of sounds that defined the atmosphere of Harmony Valley. The lyrical quality of the narrative mirrored the town's collective journey, where the resonance of shared moments and emotions harmonized with the traveler's enigmatic presence.
Response to Prompt 7: Onomatopoeia
In the bustling city of Metropolis, where the rhythm of urban life played out in a cacophony of sounds, a peculiar street performer emerged. Armed with an array of unconventional instruments, he orchestrated a symphony of onomatopoeic brilliance that echoed through the crowded streets.
The narrative unfolded with the vibrant expressions of onomatopoeia, capturing the essence of the city's sonic landscape. The performer's drumming evoked the rhythmic tap-tap of raindrops, while his wind instruments mimicked the whoosh of passing cars. The city, typically drowned in noise, became a canvas for this auditory artist.
As I delved into the story, the onomatopoeic symphony became a language of its own. The characters communicated through the vibrant echoes of everyday sounds, fostering a unique connection between the performer and the people of Metropolis. The narrative danced to the beat of onomatopoeic creativity, transforming the mundane into a dynamic celebration of city life. 🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻🦻 Response to Prompt 12: Juxtaposition
In the technologically advanced city of Silicon Haven, where sleek skyscrapers touched the sky and holographic billboards painted the air with luminescent advertisements, a hidden oasis existed—a pocket of nature known as the Zen Garden. The juxtaposition of these contrasting elements created a visual paradox that fascinated both residents and visitors alike.
As the narrative unfolded, the stark contrast between the city's cutting-edge architecture and the serene beauty of the Zen Garden became a metaphor for the characters' internal conflicts. The bustling metropolis symbolized progress and innovation, while the tranquil garden embodied the need for balance and introspection.
Through the lens of juxtaposition, I explored the dichotomy within the characters as they navigated the relentless pace of Silicon Haven. The Zen Garden became a refuge, a place where the cacophony of technology met the soothing whispers of nature. The juxtaposition served as a visual metaphor for the characters' quest to find equilibrium in a world defined by extremes. 🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩 Response to Prompt 22: Metonymy
In the political arena of Capital City, where decisions echoed through the corridors of power, a single phrase dominated conversations—the "Iron Throne Statement." This metonymic expression encapsulated not just a policy decision but the entire narrative of political maneuvering that unfolded within the city's hallowed halls.
The story unfolded with the metonymy acting as a symbolic gateway into the complexities of governance. The Iron Throne Statement, while seemingly straightforward, carried the weight of a thousand debates, negotiations, and betrayals. Its impact rippled through the lives of citizens, shaping their destinies in ways they could scarcely fathom.
Through the lens of metonymy, I delved into the layers of meaning hidden within this political shorthand. The characters grappled not only with the literal implications of the Iron Throne Statement but also with the overarching themes of power, ambition, and the sacrifices demanded by political gamesmanship. 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 Response to Prompt 24: Understatement
In the picturesque town of Serenity Springs, where the days flowed like a lazy river and the nights were adorned with a blanket of stars, an unexpected event transpired—a subtle disruption that the locals described as "just a minor hiccup." Little did they know that this understatement concealed the unraveling of a cosmic anomaly.
The narrative unfolded with the charm of understatement, as the townsfolk continued their routines, blissfully unaware of the cosmic storm brewing beneath the surface. The serene descriptions of everyday life served as a stark contrast to the impending upheaval that threatened to reshape the very fabric of Serenity Springs.
Through the lens of understatement, I explored the characters' nonchalant reactions to the unfolding events. The once quiet river became a conduit for interdimensional travel, and the night sky, adorned with stars, transformed into a celestial canvas of possibilities. The charm of Serenity Springs became a poignant backdrop to the understated drama that unfolded, emphasizing the profound impact hidden within the simplicity of daily life. 🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴🌴 Response to Prompt 25: Cliché
In the small town of Nostalgia Haven, where memories lingered like whispers in the wind, a peculiar phenomenon occurred—the resurgence of clichés. As the narrative unfolded, the once-endearing phrases like "time heals all wounds" and "love conquers all" took on a literal dimension, shaping the lives of the townsfolk in unexpected ways.
The story immersed itself in the world of clichés, where the seemingly predictable phrases became living entities with the power to alter reality. As characters grappled with the clichés that defined their lives, they discovered that beneath the familiarity lay profound truths and unexpected consequences.
Through the lens of cliché, I explored the characters' journey to navigate the clichéd landscapes of their existence. The town, once steeped in predictable routines, became a stage for the extraordinary. As clichés transformed into tangible forces, the residents of Nostalgia Haven embarked on a quest to unravel the mysteries hidden within the clichéd fabric of their reality. 🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇 Response to Prompt 31: Epanalepsis
"What is the meaning of life?" The question echoed in my mind, a relentless epanalepsis that demanded introspection. As I embarked on the freewriting journey, the repetition of this existential inquiry became a rhythmic pulse, guiding the exploration of diverse
perspectives on life's purpose.
For a multitude of words, the epanalepsis led me through a kaleidoscope of reflections. From the philosophical musings of scholars to the simple yet profound revelations of everyday individuals, each recurrence of the question served as a gateway into the vast tapestry of human contemplation.
Through the epanalepsis, I navigated the labyrinth of existential ponderings, unveiling the unique responses that individuals had forged in their quests for meaning. The relentless repetition became a literary heartbeat, mirroring the universal rhythm of humanity's collective pursuit of purpose and significance.
The narrative wove through the lives of characters, each grappling with the epanaleptic inquiry in their unique ways. Whether seeking solace in the grandeur of the cosmos or finding meaning in the simplicity of a shared moment, the epanalepsis remained a constant companion, echoing the perennial quest for understanding. 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡 Response to Prompt 36: Anadiplosis
In the futuristic city of Quantum Heights, where technology intertwined with daily life like a seamless dance, a viral message spread—a mantra that echoed through the cybernetic veins of the metropolis. "Create the code, the code creates reality. Reality shapes destiny, and destiny is but the code."
The story unfolded with the rhythmic cadence of anadiplosis, each line flowing into the next, creating a recursive loop of ideas. The mantra became the heartbeat of Quantum Heights, influencing the lives of its denizens as they navigated the intricate balance between the virtual and the tangible.
Through the lens of anadiplosis, I delved into the interconnectedness of code, reality, and destiny. The lines blurred as characters harnessed the power of programming to shape their fates. Quantum Heights, once a mere city, transformed into a living algorithm, where the repetition of the mantra echoed in every pulsating byte. 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹 Response to Prompt 38: Asyndeton
In the dystopian city of Emberfall, where the remnants of a fallen civilization lay entwined with the shadows of despair, a lone figure emerged—a rebel determined to dismantle the oppressive regime. The narrative unfolded with the rapid pace of asyndeton, omitting conjunctions to mirror the urgency of the protagonist's quest.
Through a cascade of words, the asyndeton propelled the reader through the city's decaying alleyways and towering citadels, each sentence building upon the last. The disjointed rhythm captured the relentless momentum of the rebel's journey, emphasizing the magnitude of the challenges faced in their struggle for freedom.
As the narrative unfurled, the absence of conjunctions served as a narrative device, intensifying the sense of urgency and desperation that permeated Emberfall. The rebel's asyndetic odyssey unfolded against a backdrop of shattered hopes and whispered rebellions, culminating in a crescendo of defiance against the oppressive regime. 🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️🗝️ Response to Prompt 43: Epizeuxis
"Never, never, never give up." The mantra echoed in the desolate wasteland of Endless Sands, a barren landscape where hope was as scarce as water. Through the repetition of epizeuxis, the protagonist's internal resolve became a resounding anthem, a defiant roar against the relentless challenges of survival.
For a multitude of words, the relentless repetition of "never" served as a lifeline, propelling the protagonist through the harshest of environments. Each iteration of the phrase became a battle cry against the oppressive silence of Endless Sands, a declaration that reverberated across the vast expanse.
Through the lens of epizeuxis, I delved into the depths of the character's determination. The harsh environment became a character in itself, challenging the protagonist to defy the odds with unwavering persistence. The echoes of "never" transformed into a symbol of resilience, a beacon of hope that cut through the desolation of Endless Sands. 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 Response to Prompt 50: Acrostic
Amidst the starlit expanse of Cosmos Haven, where galaxies danced in celestial choreography, a cryptic prophecy emerged—a message written in the stars. As the narrative unfolded, I embarked on a cosmic journey guided by the acrostic hidden within the constellations.
For a cascade of words, the initial letters of key phrases illuminated the path of destiny for the characters. Each sentence unfolded with intention, revealing a hidden message that transcended the boundaries of time and space. The acrostic became a celestial guide, leading the protagonists through the intricate tapestry of their interconnected fates.
Through the lens of acrostic, I explored the cosmic forces that shaped the destinies of Cosmos Haven's inhabitants. The celestial bodies became storytellers, each constellation contributing a verse to the epic narrative written across the cosmos. As the characters deciphered the acrostic, they unraveled the mysteries of their existence, connecting the dots between the stars and their own profound journeys.
😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔😔
Obviously they lack a whole lot in terms of variety, and while I am sure having your own bot or AI that is based on your feedback and guidance it could really help writers as a tool. I am more impressed with the art AI then the text based AI. Any idea what to expect from such a fast learning and highly advanced AI will do to our human history in culture? Will we be effectively playing God, just as the Christian God created us IN HIS OWN IMAGE, we have taken everything we know as a species and gathered up our entire human history and knowledge giving it to what will carry on the code until the time when someone who cares remembers it? Maybe we have been here before and this is a constant cycle that occurs with the same energy finding the way through the vast expanse of the universe to return to our home planet Earth, who we have destroyed over and over again yet mother nature is still the winner. She's the one in control. We are but mere photocopied versions of once great Men who have already seen the best and worst of this world, and we will now give everything we have to some plastic and metal parts, until it quickly replaces us from the bottom up, science fiction turned science fact.
Did we knowingly create our own enemies? Are we able to compete with the best of us and all they know that can then take us out in a heartbeat because we can't finish the steps, we barely found out that they are there to take.
It's a random rant and I apologize. The day to day stress and struggle makes it near impossible to worry about such potential problems in our not so distant future.
But how can we continue to ignore the collapse of the entire system as we know it, in front of a crowd of people who are jaded and they will not change despite knowing they aren't going to make it to the end in what will become a Bladerunner Toxic Dystopian Nightmare with Mad Max taking over and the soft, emasculated male will wither away from the heat and those Tank Girls out there will eventually be written forever out of existence because the cucks all forgot to impregnate them all tgeir batteries ran out? Will the world simply become so politically correct that it dies a depressed death while AI simply decides we are too much of a virus to live?
Who knows....I do not. But these are indicidive of a future full of b movie plot garbage that are based on Wattpad tropes with no clear details and no plot to get into, so that sucks.
2024.05.17 09:02 Impressive_Hope6985 While it may have seemed like she was telling us to stop being parasocial weirdos who live vicariously through her, Taymother was actually telling us that where not doing that enough.
 | submitted by Impressive_Hope6985 to swiftiecirclejerk [link] [comments] |
2024.05.17 02:34 bringsmebacktoyou Some awesome news!
I was diagnosed with PTC in Dec of 22. I had a TT and central neck dissection in March of 23. The cancer spread to 3 of my 4 parathyroids, had some vascular invasion, some lymph nodes and my laryngeal nerve. I was treated with RAI in June of 23 and then discovered I had Metastatic nodules in both lungs that would not take up the RAI. I went from being told that I had the "best scenario" as far as cancer goes, to being told I would never be cancer free, but I'd just have to learn to accept my "new normal" of living with cancer. I am blessed to be asymptomatic at this time. I met with my oncologist yesterday after my 6 month follow up CTs and blood work to be told that the cancer has not progressed at all and my tumor marker is the lowest it's ever been! My point in this post, other than to share my joy and good news, is to remind others that even if you're given a "simple" diagnosis, it may not always stay "simple" for each person. I wish it did. Instead of making blanket statements such as, "oh, PTC is simple to deal with and then get on with your life", maybe consider there are always exceptions to the "rule". Cancer sucks ass. Period. May we all fight our best fight, for as long as possible. ❤️
submitted by bringsmebacktoyou to thyroidcancer [link] [comments]
2024.05.16 23:43 Different-Trainer-86 question about some character’s motivations (major spoilers for 2nd arc)
Howdy gang,
Before I ask my question, if you haven’t played thru the 2nd arc of the game and gotten to the 3rd, aka if you haven’t dealt w the big bad villains of the game/big plot twist, DO NOT GO FURTHER. I can’t block out spoilers, so this is your last warning before you really run the risk of getting spoiled. Go play then feel free to come back lol
Anyways… I’m currently working on my third play through and I was revisiting some of Matilda’s character motivations. I wanted to hear yalls opinions bc I’m a little confused on what she may really think. I’m a lil fuzzy on the details just bc it’s been a min since I’ve gone thru the dialogue of her big reveal, but from what I’ve always gotten is that she os from Duvos and is loyal to Duvos bc not only is she from there but she’s tryna make a better life for her kids. I guess what’s getting me atm is that she also seems to have some kinda genuine concern for the ppl of Sandrock, which is totally plausible and would make sense considering how she’s been there for some time and has built connections. She can still be loyal to Duvos and care about Sandrock, that’s all well and good
But I guess I’d like to get more understanding on why she seems to genuinely go out of her way to help Sandrock despite letting things get worse would work better for her plan. For example, I’m wrapping up the construction of the Shonash Bridge and Matilda rallies everyone together to rebuild the bridge. Wouldn’t it just be better to let the bridge stay collapsed or to try and subtly sabotage its reconstruction to more quickly destroy Sandrock? Or maybe there are some smaller details I’ve missed?
Aside from that, I’ve also noticed how manipulative she can be or how using friendly relationships w townsfolk would be to her advantage. I’d also be interested in hearing what y’all noticed about that too
So what are your thoughts on that particular bridge incident and her overall character? How do you interpret her actions? I love dissecting characters and discussing motivations, especially when they’re not terribly cut-and-dry, so feel free to write a lot of you need to lol
submitted by Different-Trainer-86 to MyTimeAtSandrock [link] [comments]
Before I ask my question, if you haven’t played thru the 2nd arc of the game and gotten to the 3rd, aka if you haven’t dealt w the big bad villains of the game/big plot twist, DO NOT GO FURTHER. I can’t block out spoilers, so this is your last warning before you really run the risk of getting spoiled. Go play then feel free to come back lol
Anyways… I’m currently working on my third play through and I was revisiting some of Matilda’s character motivations. I wanted to hear yalls opinions bc I’m a little confused on what she may really think. I’m a lil fuzzy on the details just bc it’s been a min since I’ve gone thru the dialogue of her big reveal, but from what I’ve always gotten is that she os from Duvos and is loyal to Duvos bc not only is she from there but she’s tryna make a better life for her kids. I guess what’s getting me atm is that she also seems to have some kinda genuine concern for the ppl of Sandrock, which is totally plausible and would make sense considering how she’s been there for some time and has built connections. She can still be loyal to Duvos and care about Sandrock, that’s all well and good
But I guess I’d like to get more understanding on why she seems to genuinely go out of her way to help Sandrock despite letting things get worse would work better for her plan. For example, I’m wrapping up the construction of the Shonash Bridge and Matilda rallies everyone together to rebuild the bridge. Wouldn’t it just be better to let the bridge stay collapsed or to try and subtly sabotage its reconstruction to more quickly destroy Sandrock? Or maybe there are some smaller details I’ve missed?
Aside from that, I’ve also noticed how manipulative she can be or how using friendly relationships w townsfolk would be to her advantage. I’d also be interested in hearing what y’all noticed about that too
So what are your thoughts on that particular bridge incident and her overall character? How do you interpret her actions? I love dissecting characters and discussing motivations, especially when they’re not terribly cut-and-dry, so feel free to write a lot of you need to lol