Jack off manual

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Edited by WaveOfWire
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Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
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The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
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Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

TL;DR: WineASIO works fine in normal Wine but not Bottles. Pretty sure it's a sandbox thing (maybe Bottles isn't allowed to use Jack?).
Recently recorded an 8 bar vocal section on my Debian laptop with FL ASIO as like a little test of sorts, and it wasn't that bad tbh, especially because I monitor myself like a caveman by sliding one headphone off anyway. But I'd like to get it lower still, and apparently WineASIO can do that.
I tried it before on a VM with normal Wine and that went smoothly, albeit without any actual benefit because it was on a VM and the latency from that alone is huge. On my laptop I got FL running through Bottles (flatpak) though, because managing prefixes is easier and their default runner works with FL a little better.
Since it's sandboxed and doesn't really have any decent shell integration, installing WineASIO was kind of a pain, but after manually registering the 64-bit dll in the little janky cmd emulator they have, it appeared in FL (the 32 bit one didn't get downloaded from kx repositories bc i chose the wrong package i think, but i don't think this matters too much since fl is 64-bit only unless you also need the 32-bit one for it to function?)
When I try to open it, it spits out 'Error while accessing ASIO driver' and gets disabled. When I looked up that error, people said it might have something to do with Jack not being set up correctly. Installed Jack (was using pipewire-jack before that, works in the aforementioned vm), set the settings to be the same as the ones that are set in regedit for WineASIO in qJackctl and started a session but that didn't change anything, gave up for the day, deleted jack and reinstalled pipewire.
Yesterday I tried it again, but on another VM, as to not gunk up my laptop too much with random glued together audio packages that may or may not work (i put arch instead of debian on it tho for some reason so likeee not the most scientific method ig lmao), also installed normal Wine on it because the AUR pulled it and the long story short, Bottles - same thing, normal Wine - works straight away, so I'm thinking it's a sandbox thing. I'm certain it's not a runner thing because running with SysWine does the same thing. Anyone ever had it run in the flatpak version of Bottles? The error makes me think Bottles doesn't have permission to use Jack or something since it's sandboxed.

I had the chance to try out the 1 VI yesterday. I am in the market for a new phone and was looking at the S24 Ultra and Pixel 8 Pro. Of the two, I liked the Pixel 8 Pro: despite some reviews saying it's video taking capabilities were good but not as good as its competitors, it's size and stock android experience were more preferable than the S24 Ultra. Anyway, this is about the 1 VI.
Build Quality
It's a crossover from 1 V, though the 1 V is closer to the 1 IV when held in hand. The main factor is the screen. It feels light but grippy thanks to its case design.
Screen
Gotta be honest here. If I had more time with it, I probably could make out more differences with my 1 IV or the demo 1 V. The shop might not be the best place with its interior lighting. But I honestly thought the 1 VI had the better screen, didn't really notice any pixelation effect. One thing I did not like with the 1 IV was its screen was too dim. I often had to do scrutinize my photos and videos for insufficient lighting and exposure because of the screen dimness. I really appreciate the increase in brightness. Despite that, there doesn't seem to be any noticeable deficiency of viewing experience from a 4k to a 1080p resolution. The 1 VI sharpness and vividness were somewhat better, might be due to the increase in brightness.
With regards to playback of 4k recorded videos, I did not notice any deficiency as well. I saw some claims of 4k video playback taking a hit with the new display but the experience was not too dissimilar from the 1 IV and 1 V. So to test this, I streamed some 4k videos from youtube and recorded some 4k videos as well. My fears weren't really confirmed. But I have to say one thing I really doubted from the many reviewers commenting that the downgrade was nothing to worry about, I wouldn't say I was blown away by the quality. Perhaps the 1 IV has spoiled me to the point of not really being blown away by any other phone display, the S24 Ultra's and Pixel's screens included.
Performance
I didn't really notice any throttling while using it. Most of the time I was snapping pics and recording videos. My biggest concern with the 1 IV was the overheating. The 1 VI didn't seem to overheat. It was quite snappy.
Cameras
Gotta be honest here as well. In terms of quality, I couldn't really notice any glaring improvements. Seemed like more of the same with the 1 IV, with some additional toys to play with. Granted, I'm not the type to scrutinize photos like I'm playing "spot the difference" games. So my expectations of taking good photos are still met.
My experience with the new app though was not that good, though I could say the same thing when learning the Xperia's camera suite. With the amount of manual configurations, the old camera suite encouraged fiddling and experimentation. But since there were 3, each had a purpose different from each other. Imagine collapsing all of those things into one app. My initial impressions are mixed. While I do appreciate one app, the execution could have been done better. With the S24U and P8P pro modes, they were able to present a clean and uncluttered interface by presenting users with the basic functions and tucking away the pro features in advanced menus. With the camera app, it was like using the Office Ribbon/toolbar. You could easily fill up the screen with sub-menus with a few clicks. I saw a post here comparing the interface with pixel's camera app, they weren't really mistaken. While the old camera suite was overwhelming at first, I grew to appreciate, embrace and enjoy them over time. I hope the experience would be the same with this unified app.
The thing that stopped me from buying the 1 VI over the P8P was the fingerprint scanner. Mine is currently broken due to the recent update. I can only reuse the fingerprint scanner after powering off the phone for 10 minutes with the case off to let it cool down. Even with this, it's not guaranteed to work all the time. And it's quite annoying to do. This really interferes with utilizing the phone, especially doing banking. But I ended up pulling the trigger on the 1 VI since it seemed like I was still getting an upgrade despite many people's misgivings on the downgraded screen and the price. To me, I understand both camps. The display is a major part of phones. It superseded tactile keyboards as our way of interaction. A 4k display is a premium feature. Getting something less as part of an integral feature affects the perception of the phone's "premiumness", it's quality. While Sony did make major changes and improvements in other areas, it rightly attracted negative feedback due to the resolution change. But then, that's the thing. The 1 VI isn't only just a display, it's also many things as well. It's a battery that's able to power a good display, multiple cameras and the best chip on the current market. It's an SD card slot that can store your pictures, videos and files. It's a headphone jack which allows you to use headsets and IEMs. It's many things constituting to one device. While the price is quite high, it's not absurdly high from my perspective.
Notes
One thing I really don't like with my 1 IV is the read and write speeds to the SD card. You can slap on the best in class SD card inside but it's throttled. I learned this the hard way. Hopefully, but I'm not counting on it, they improved upon this and increase or just leave this be. Just let the read/write speeds be as quick as they're supposed to be. I understand the decision a bit since transferring files to the SD card warms up the phone. I don't know if it's a Xperia design issue or a limitation on phones themselves but really looking forward in improvements here.
Another thing I wanted to comment on is the Video Pro mode. It's quite a disappointment that it's not yet available, would have loved to try it out. It could be a dealbreaker, and they might have changed some features upon release. It's a shame it's not out for reviewers to try out and give their feedback.

Current:
Patrick Weekes, Lead Writer: Writers Mass Effect: They wrote several side quests, including Citadel: Family Matter and Presidium Prophet.
Additional Design Dragon Age: Origins
Writers Mass Effect 2 and Writers and Manager on Lair of the Shadow Broker: They co-wrote Miranda, and I believe also Garrus, co-wrote Liara during LOTSB. They wrote Tali, paraphrased Thane's romance dialogue, and contributed writing to other characters. They also contributed to the ending content for the game.
Senior Writer Mass Effect 3: Alongside John Dombrow, they assisted Lead Writer Mac Walters in managing the rest of the writing team. They co-wrote From Ashes and served as Senior Writer for Leviathan. They were also the Senior Writer Manager, working with John Dombrow as a co-lead (Basically) on Citadel. They wrote Kasumi, Tali, Mordin, Jack, Traynor, Joker, and Jondum Bau, and co-wrote Legion. Additionally, They wrote Liara's conversation with Matriarch Aethyta and Priority Eden Prime. They co-wrote Priority: Tuchanka and wrote Priority: Rannoch.
Senior Writer Inquisition, Lead Writer Jaws of Hakkon, Consultant The Descent, Lead Writer Trespasser: They wrote The Bull's Chargers, Cole, Krem, The Iron Bull, Solas, and Svarah Sun Hair. They also wrote the majority of Here Lies the Abyss.
Lead Writer Canceled Project Joplin DA4
Dragon Age Finaling Team Mass Effect Andromeda: Wrote several note texts.
Short stories: Dragon Slayers, Glass Beads, I Am Looking for a Book..., Why the Elders Bare Their Throats, When She Grows a Soul, Injure the Corners, Release the Knot, Shepard Off-Duty and Unleashing the Flyers of L
Comics: They co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #2 with Mac Walters.
Books: They are the writer of the Rogues of the Republic Trilogy, which consists of The Palace Job, The Prophecy Con, and The Paladin Caper. They also wrote Dragon Age: The Masked Empire and contributed to The World of Thedas Volume 2. Additionally, they served as both writer and editor for Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, writing Three Trees to Midnight and The Dread Wolf Take You. They also wrote the novel Feeder.
John Epler, Franchise Creative Director since January 2022, formerly Narrative director until December 2021:
Prior to joining Bioware, he spent several years volunteering for various fan sites and dabbling in the modding community for various games.
QA Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood
Term Testers Dragon Age: Origins and Cinematic Designers for Witch Hunt
QA Story Team Mass Effect 2, additional QA on Normandy Crash Site, Zaeed - The Price of Revenge, Firewalker Pack, Kasumi - Stolen Memory, and Overlord.
Cinematic Designers Dragon Age II, Cinematic Designer The Exiled Prince, Cinematic Designers on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin
Cinematic Designers Dragon Age: Inquisition, Lead Cinematic Designer on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Working with the animation team, he worked to remove the race-gating on Iron Bull's romance
Dragon Age Finaling Team Mass Effect Andromeda
Animation Systems Designers/Storyboard Supervisor for Anthem
Executive Producers Dragon Age: Absolution
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote The Horror of Hormak and Half Up Front
Sylvia Feketekuty, Senior Writer:
Writers Lair of the Shadow Broker: Wrote Feron and Glyph, wrote Liara from the beginning of the DLC until the scene after the defeat of the Shadow Broker, and wrote a few lines of her dialogue after that.
Writers Mass Effect 3, also the Resurgence, Rebellion, Earth, Retaliation, and Reckoning Multiplayer Expansions: Wrote Glyph, Liara, and Samara. Also, she wrote the final version of Kallini: Ardat-Yakshi Monastery, wrote Rannoch: Admiral Koris and Geth Fighter squadrons, contributed to much of the content on the Citadel, including various quests, the refund guy, and various other background material. she also co-wrote Legion.
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Josephine, Champions of the Just, and the final versions of Before the Dawn and Under Her Skin.
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem
Short Stories: The Flame Eternal
Comics: She co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #4 with Mac Walters.
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Down Among the Dead Men and Luck in the Gardens
Sheryl Chee, Senior Writer:
Writers Dragon Age: Origins, also co-writer for The Stone Prisoner, Return to Ostagar, and Awakening, and the writer of Golems of Amgarrak. Writers Witch Hunt, Wrote Cullen, Dog, Leliana and Wynne, as well as Oghren, Sigrun, and Velanna during Awakening. Also wrote the Magi Origin, Broken Circle, and the Urn of Sacred Ashes.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Isabela and All That Remains
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser and writer for the Multiplayer: Wrote Blackwall, Leliana and the multiplayer characters
Writers Mass Effect Andromeda: Wrote Vetra and Suvi
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem: Wrote Mathias
Short Stories: Isabela, Minrathous Shadows
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2
Brianne Battye, Senior Writer:
Assistant Writer Leviathan credited as Additional Design
Writers Citadel
Writers Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Cullen
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem
Short Stories: The Next One, Won't Know When and Each Minute Closer
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Hunger and The Streets of Minrathous, and the writer of wholehearted (poetry collection)
Poems: Short Poems
Former:
Lukas Kristjanson, Senior Writer until September 2023 laid off:
Lead Writer Baldur's Gate and the Tales of the Sword Coast expansion: Wrote Minsc, Jaheira, much of the main story and main campaign, and many of the side quests Also contributed manual editing and compilation.
Writers MDK 2
Designers and core design team for Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn and additional design on Throne of Bhaal: Wrote Jon Irenicus and also contributed manual writing/editing.
Designers, Core Design Team, Manual Writers and additional programming on Neverwinter Nights
Designers Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic: Wrote parts of Taris, Manaan, and Korriban, much of Tatooine and Kashyyyk, and also contributed manual writing.
Lead Writer, later Co-Lead on Jade Empire.
Writers Mass Effect: Wrote Kaidan and Joker, co-wrote Kirrahe, wrote Feros, and co-wrote Virmire.
Writers Dragon Age: Origins, and the Writer of Leliana's Song: Co-wrote A Paragon of Her Kind
Writers Mass Effect 2: Wrote Jacob and Joker, contributed writing to other characters, wrote Joker's Mission on the Normandy, contributed to the game's ending, and advised Dusty Everman in the writing of the non-companion NPCs on the Normandy.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Arishok, Aveline and Carver
Senior Writer Dragon Age: Inquisition: Wrote Sera, In Your Heart, and several codex entries.
Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Wrote Liam
Comics: Co-wrote the Baldur's Gate promotional comic.
Short Stories: Aveline and As We Fly
Books: Writers The World of Thedas Volume 1-2, Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote Callback and Genitivi Dies in the End
John Dombrow, Senior Writer left in August of 2023:
Writer Universe at War: Earth Assault
Petroglyoph Studio staff on Panzer General: Allied Assault
Writer Overlord
Senior Writer Mass Effect 3: Alongside Patrick Weekes, he assisted Lead Writer Mac Walters in managing the rest of the writing team. He co-wrote From Ashes and served as Supervising Writer for Leviathan. He were also the Senior Writer Manager, working with Patrick Weekes a co-lead (Basically) on Citadel. He wrote Wrex, Garrus, Javik, Padok Wiks, Wreav, Eve, and Victus. He also wrote Liara during From Ashes and contributed writing to Kai Leng and The Illusive Man. He wrote Priority: Sur'Kesh, co-wrote Priority Tuchanka, and wrote Priority Thessia. Additionally, he developed the initial Grissom Academy mission and wrote the first draft. He also edited Garrus and Javik.
Senior Writer Bioshock Infinite: Burial at Sea
Writer Telltale's Game of Thrones Episode 3 and additional writing on two of the other episodes
Writer and associate producer Mytheon
Writers and later co-lead for Mass Effect: Andromeda following the departure of original lead writer Chris Schlerf: Wrote Prologue Hyperion, Planetside, and the Salarian Ark Mission.
Senior WriteNarrative Designer Anthem
Short stories: Ruins of Reality
Comics: He co-wrote the story for Mass Effect Homeworlds #3 with Mac Walters and the story for Mass Effect Discovery
Books: Oversaw the development of the Andromeda novels.
Films: Production Assistant Sliver, Writer Control Factor, Screenwriter Deadly Swarm
Writer and developer The Sixth Extinction (Unproduced
Writer original screenplay The Hills Run Red
Films: Production Assistant Sliver, Writer Control Factor, co-screenwriter Deadly Swarm. Also, writer and developer The Sixth Extinction (Unproduced). Additionally, wrote the original screenplay for The Hills Run Red.
Left to go join Sucker Punch Productions as a Senior Writer
Mary Kirby, Senior Writer until September 2023 laid off:
Writers Dragon Age: Origins: Wrote Cauthrien, Sten, Loghain, much of the Qunari lore and the Chant of Light, and most of the Landsmeet.
Writers Dragon Age II, also on Legacy and Mark of the Assassin: Wrote Merrill and Varric
Writers Star Wars: The Old Republic: Wrote the companion conversations for Fideltin Rusk
Writers for Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Wrote Varric, Vivienne, and In Hushed Whispers
Writers/Narrative Designers Anthem: Wrote Max
Short Stories: Merrill, Varric and The Wake
Books: Writers and editors The World of Thedas Volume 1, writers Volume 2, Writer for Dragon Age: Hard in Hightown
Courtney Woods, Writer left in February of 2020:
Prior to joining Bioware, she worked as an Editorial Intern at DC Comics for 3 months and as a Contributing Writer at Newsarama where She specialized in video game journalism, including previewing and reviewing video games and related projects. She provided written and photographic coverage of pop culture conventions such as Star Wars Celebration V, New York Comic-Con 2010, and E3 2011
Community Coordinators Star Wars: The Old Republic also on the Rise of the Hutt Cartel and Galactic Starfighter expansions. Lead Community Coordinator on Galactic Strongholds and Shadow of Revan. Writers on Knights of the Fallen Empire
Co-writer The Descent
Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Wrote Lexi, Reyes and much of Kadara
Senior WriteNarrative Designer Anthem
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote The Wigmaker Job and Eight Little Talons. She also contributed to the Development of the Mass Effect Andromeda: Nexus Uprising Novel
Left to work on the Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic as the Lead writer left in September of 2022
Currently a Senior Writer as Sucker Punch Productions
Arone Le Bray, Narrative Quality DesigneAnalyst left in April of 2021:
Contact Testers Jade Empire: Special Edition
QA Term Testers Mass Effect
QA Sonic Chronicles: The Dark Brotherhood
QA Analysts Dragon Age: Origins
QA Story Team Lead Mass Effect 2, additional QA on Normandy Crash Site, QA Zaeed - The Price of Revenge, additional QA Firewalker Pack, QA Kasumi - Stolen Memory, and Lair of the Shadow Broker.
Additional QA Star Wars: The Old Republic
Content Analysts Mass Effect 3
Analysts Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser
Analysts Mass Effect: Andromeda
Analysts Anthem
Books: Writers Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, wrote An Old Crow's Old Tricks
Theatre: Founders Basic Acid Theatre company. Director and an Actor in Finer Noble Gases, Writer and Director of Occupied.
Left to join THE CHINESE ROOM LTD as a Narrative Designer on Vampire: The Masquerade - Bloodlines 2. Currently serving as a Principal Narrative Designer on the game.
FormeUnknown:
Alexis Kennedy, Freelance Writer:
Founder and former CEO Failbetter Games Left in August of 2016
Original developer and lead writer Fallen London
Creative Director Tales of Fallen London: The Silver Tree
Creative Director Machine Cares!
Creative Director Dragon Age: The Last Court
Creative director, lead writer and Designers Sunless Sea
Co-founder Weather Factory
Writer and Designers Stellaris: Horizon Signal
Writer, designer, and coders for Cultist Simulator and its DLC."
Initial Concept Sunless Skies
Writer and Designer Book of Hours
He also worked on an unspecified research and development project with Telltale Games
In August 2019, he was accused of harassment by Meg Jayanth and Olivia Wood, a writer at Failbetter. Bioware has cut all ties with him.
Unknown
Ben Gelinas, Consultant:
Prior to joining Bioware, he worked as a staff writer for Guelph Mercury, Multimedia Reporter for The Waterloo Region Record, Crime Writer, and later Arts Writer for the Edmonton Journal, and as a Freelance Journalist.
Writing Special Thanks Mark of the Assassin
Editors and Additional Design for Mass Effect 3 and From Ashes. Editors on Leviathan and Citadel. He collaborated with the programmers to design the games Kinect voice command system
Editors Dragon Age: Inquisition, also on Jaws of Hakkon and Trespasser: Product owner for the game journal
Editors on Star Wars: The Old Republic: Knights of the Fallen Empire and Knights of the Eternal Throne
Editors and Writers Mass Effect: Andromeda: Some writing for Drack and additional story content.
Founder Copychaser Games Inc.
Writer and Designer Speed Dating For Ghosts
Game Design Instructor Sheridan College Jan 2018 - Apr 2018
Narrative Designers Control, Co-writer Control Expansion 1 - The Foundation."
Writers Gotham Knights
Writer and Designer Times and Galaxy
He is also working on a game about sleep paralysis
Books: Lead Writer and co-project Lead The World of Thedas Volumes 1-2, contributed an essay to Shy: An Anthology, Writer The Art of Dragon Age: Inquisition, worked on the English language version of The Legend of Zelda Encyclopedia, and wrote BioWare: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development. He also contributed to the Development of the Mass Effect Andromeda: Nexus Uprising Novel

I recently picked up this deck off ebay, the seller listed two problems 1. the belts need to be replaced which was easy enough, and 2. "low volume output." Now, from just that I had assumed that it was just like a little quiet or something, but no, it really is almost completely inaudible. The only way I could hear my tape was by plugging the output into my pc and recording it on audacity. With the deck set to max output volume, the highest peak I saw on the audacity vu meter was around -55 decibels (3 times lower than the vu meter on the deck itself can go).
It doesn't look like an problem with the output jacks themselves, as the issue is the same whether I use the line out or headphone jacks, so I'm assuming it has something to do with a broken or worn out component on the motherboard or something with the playhead itself. First I looked at the playhead closer and noticed some weird residue/film on it that can't be cleaned with alcohol and cotton swabs, however I talked to some guy who has the same (perfectly working) deck as me and his playhead has around the same amount of whatever the gunk is on it so I don't think it's that. In the second picture in the link, you'll also see there's some what looks to be water stains inside of the cassette slot? Obviously from that there could be some water damage or something to the playhead, but the erase and record head seem to work fine so I'm not sure if that would be the issue either.
On the main board, the play head equalizer VRs do seem to work and If I turn them to max its just slightly louder, so I'm thinking its something before that. The only thing before that in the circuit is the pre amp IC, the resistors and what not surrounding it and the play head. I've tested all the resistors and other small components like that that are connected to the traces that actually carry sound (from looking at the schematics in the service manual) and they all seem fine. I've got no idea how to go about testing or what testing equipment to use on the pre amp IC nor the playhead individually. Apparently I'm too stupid to fully grasp what the IC does or how it works with the components around from looking at the data sheet (the IC is a Panasonic AN6557 if that helps any) and I don't got any clue as to how the playhead works either.
If needed, i can provide more information or answer questions. So, if anyone thats worked on a problem like this before happens to any idea of what might be wrong, some pointers or advice would be very highly appreciated.

Chapter 26 - The Infinite Beckons
Previous Chapter
“Okay, this part’s a little tricky.” Ma’et gestured out the shuttle’s cockpit. “You got lined up easy enough, and our velocity’s at a relative zero to the ship. The bay door’s open. Now you engage the lateral thrusters while monitoring the distance from the shuttle to the bay’s interior wall. Come in too fast and you’ll damage them both..”
Trix looked over at the controls, and the neatly gummed labels that the humans had placed over the English text with her own language. She gingerly pressed the ‘Lateral Thruster’ button, then as the control knob next to it lit up, she twisted it slowly.
An earlier misadventure when lining up the ship and the shuttle where she’d twisted the control knob much more rapidly made her much more cautious about giving it too much power too quickly, yet the shuttle slowly drifted - away from the ship. “Other thruster, feathers.”
Chagrined, she dialed the thruster back to zero, then rotated it the other direction. The ship immediately stopped moving away, and instead drifted into the hangar bay. Trix watched as it drifted past the door, staring at the distance readout until it dropped into the yellow and immediately swung the knob the other way. It took a couple of tries to get the velocity back to zero, but she managed it.
“Beautiful. Now we engage the grav plating which lets the ship’s internal grav pull us down as it ramps up, and close the external door via the console over there.” Ma’et gestured to the remote console, and Trix scanned it, punching the buttons as she found them.
“Nicely done. Go ahead and hit the engine shutdown. In the old days there’d be like, thirty steps to it but nearly all of it is automated. But lucky you, you get to read all about the manual sequence since taking over in the event of computer failure is one of a pilot’s duties.” Ma’et chuckled and squeezed Trix’s shoulder. “For now, that’s good enough. Go ahead and open both the lateral boarding door, and the rear loading door. Also extend the rear loading ramp.”
Trix did, then glanced over at Ma’et. “Anything more?”
“Nope. First day on the job, and you’ve done the first job successfully. Not perfectly, but pretty damn good for your first time piloting off planet. Go ahead and head back to talk with the Captain, and I’ll handle the rest.”
Trix unbuckled the acceleration harness (Though, she felt zero acceleration during the entire trip so she couldn’t fathom just WHY Ma’et had insisted on her buckling in) and moved past the much smaller woman as she left the cockpit.
In the back, Josh was already outside the ship, grabbing a handtruck. She watched as he pushed it up the loading ramp to the stack of boxes that contained the food and equipment she’d need for the next few weeks of existence here in space. “Why aren’t you using one of the gravity belts?” She gestured over to the wall where the belts were hanging.
“Eh, this stuff’s fairly light and those have a limited lifespan. I don’t want to burn out the Keplite cores on stuff we can just move by hand. They’re expensive.”
“Oh. What’s Keplite, anyway? Ji and Min have mentioned it a few times.” Trix glanced over at the large belts with their big circular pads in the middle.
Before Josh could answer, Alex walked in between them. “Ji, Min! We’re going to be converting the room across from yours back into crew quarters for Trix. Gonna need you two to move the Spider. Is there room here in the hangar for it?”
“It’ll fit better if we assemble it and use packing mode.” Ji countered, as he hopped out of the shuttle. “It’ll take a day or so. We’ve got it spread all out in there.”
Alex turned over to Trix and beckoned. “Follow me. Gonna give you the full tour while they’re unloading." He took a few steps back, then lifted his arms wide to gesture to their surroundings. "This is obviously the hangar bay. Shuttle's the big thing you were just flying. Below us is a small cargo hold, empty right now. Not gonna show you unless you happen to like large empty boring-ass boxes.” He raised an eyebrow, and Trix quickly shook her head. "Alright. Most of the shit in here is just maintenance tools and loading gear. Nothing exciting. Ramp to main transit corridor here."
They walked out into the hallway. “Okay, well through that door’s opposite the hangar is the fabber bay. The fabber is a huge machine that manufactures stuff for us, like a 3D printer. Do you guys have anything like that?” Trix shrugged, and Alex continued. “Well either way, it can make virtually anything from a bed to a bomb to a computer. The more complex and difficult items take a hell of a lot longer to make. It’s also a major power hog since the manufacturing process uses extremely powerful fields, both magnetic and force. In other words, if you need something and we didn’t bring it with you we can make it here.”
He walked down the hall a bit, and gestured to the doors on either side. “Launcher bays, 1 and 2. Normally we use ‘em to launch beacons, buoys, sensors, things like that into space. If someone tries to start shit with us we CAN use them to launch missiles but we have very few of those available. We’re not out here to get in fights, but if we have to defend ourselves we pack a big punch.” He opened one of the doors and walked inside. “The big hatch over there is the manual tube loader. The ship can auto-load various things but if we need to put something into space that isn’t already in storage, that’s where we do it. If Ji tells you to climb in yourself, he’s joking and you should hit him because it only exists to launch shit into space.”
Trix laughed at that, but she had learned enough of Ji’s sense of humor while working on the car to understand the sentiment. “Will I even be in here at all though?”
“Maybe. If something needs to be manually loaded, we use these. Back when we were at the derelict ship I had to send a battery over to help out while we planned our rescue. You might be asked to do the same.” Alex shrugged and lead her out into the hall. “Last thing here is the ship’s primary armament.” He reached over to the side of the hallway and pressed a hatch release. The compartment it lead to was incredibly small and tightly cramped.
“We don’t use it much outside of scaring off pirates or relieving stress, but this is our primary weapon out in space. Eight-chamber five meter long rotary railgun. Fires one round every 1.2 seconds that travel roughly a million kilometers per hour when fired stationary, or closer to 280 kilometers per second. It fires either solid armor-piercing unguided slugs or flak munitions that are used to produce clouds of metallic debris. The former will shred a ship’s armor and pulverize anything inside. The latter can overwhelm particle shields and damage exterior components without nearly as much penetration. The reason I’m saying all this to you,” He tapped the top of the cannon where it joined to the ship. “This thing’s got a super limited firing arc. Meaning that we can only shoot what we’re pointed at. If, by some miracle, we get into a fight out there then our ability to shoot back is gonna depend on your ability to fly the ship while facing the enemy.”
Trix swallowed heavily as she tried to imagine just how powerful this massive cannon was. She glanced over at the side of it, to the twin belts that fed in ammo. Each round it would fire was longer than her forearm and thicker than her waist.
“That’s the worst case scenario though. In reality, if we get into any shit out there, fighting is the LAST thing we want to do. Negotiation to avoid hostility first, escape second, fight last.” Alex shooed her out of the compartment. “That said if we encounter any low-yield junk out there then we’ll get some target practice in. If you’re game then we can let you try targeting for a bit and unload some kinetic mayhem while things are dull.” He grinned wickedly, as he manually pulled the hatch back into place, sliding two large locking levers into place.
“Okay, that’s it for this deck. There’s stairs on the far side leading up to the tech deck but the ladder here’s quicker.”
They climbed up the ladder, with Alex leading and Trix following. Her wings banged against the ceiling as she climbed, and it took her a few moments to get them tucked in tight enough to get through the hatch but with Alex’s help they got up there.
“Tech deck. Mostly. In the front of the ship here right under Bridge access is the exception, the pool room.” He opened the door and they walked in together. “Mainly used for observation but the pool there is great for relaxation. You can adjust the temperature with the controls on the wall there, goes from chilly to full on hot tub. Adjustable depth from 3 to 10 feet, and the pool walls are display panels. If you use a breather it’s fun to turn the display to external then go down underwater and relax while staring at the stars. Do you swim much?”
Trix nodded. “Sure, there’s a river a… couple kilometers? I think? I’m not good with converting distances yet. Anyway, it’s near the hab and we’d go there when I was younger and didn’t have as much to do in the fields.”
“Cool. Well, feel free to use it but just a word of warning you might want to check if anyone’s in first. Swimwear is optional and since the crew is a pretty tight family we don’t usually get embarrassed if we’re seen swimming in the buff.” Alex waved over at the control console. “If you’re not sure the big green button on the outside is the comm button, just ask if anyone’s using it.”
“Ji brought me in here when we came up to do the medical scans. He showed me Kiveyt from orbit for the first time. Do all human ships have a room like this?” Trix reached over to dip her hand into the water. It was quite warm to the touch.
“Nah. This ship wasn’t originally designed as a scout ship or survey ship. It was originally a yacht. Big luxury vehicle for rich people to fly around in space and have fun in. Throw parties. Most of the ridiculous amenities it has I got rid of ages ago, but that left a huge amount of space we filled up with all the launchers and sensors and whatnot. I kept the pool though because I love soaking after a long day.” He pressed the door control and they left the pool room.
“Just past the pool room on either side of the ship we have collection dishes for D-space particles. Those are EVA only, so you won’t be dealing with those. They let us collect extremely powerful particles which lead back here.” Alex spoke as he walked, and turned the corner into a much, much larger room.
“This is the ship’s main power supply. Charged particles enter the torus reactor and discharge energy which is converted into electrical power and routed through the ship. Those bottles over there…” He gestured to four massive grey metal canisters on the wall. “Contain the actual particles. They’re made of the strongest materials we have because if one ruptured, the ship would instantly explode from the inside out. Don’t worry,” Alex quickly raised his hands. “The chances of that happening are virtually impossible. This is the single most well-protected location on the ship.”
He gestured to the other side of the large room. “Over there’s the terminals that Min is usually at. She and Ji are in charge of all engineering. That means power, propulsion, all computer systems, and the like. Well, the physical parts of them that is. Ma’et is our computer geek when it comes to integration, programming, and all the fun software shit.”
Alex left the room, and gestured to the other side. “I’m sure you’re familiar with medical over there. Let’s do us both a favor and not have to go there much. Otherwise I’m pretty sure Kyshe will gut me.” He didn’t stop to show her inside, and they reached the main staircase. “The back half of the ship on this deck is all propulsion access and maintenance. I’m more or less our damage control guy, along with Ji and Min. For them it’s because they’re smart as shit and for me it’s because I had to learn how to maintain my own ship. Most common damage out here is stray micro meteors or debris while we’re parked and the particle shields are down. Sometimes worn out components inside. Again, no EVA for you so the only thing you’ll need to worry about for DC is being an assistant to one of us while we fix shit.”
They went up the stairwell to the uppermost of the three floors. “There used to be an observation bubble above us, but I had it removed because it was useless. Even if I covered it with ablative plating it was a massive wart on top of the ship that served zero practical purpose. Anyway, the top floor here is where you’ll spend 90% of your time on the ship. Back here…” Alex started walking to the rear of the ship, and walked through a large open doorway. “Mess hall. We generally have two kinds of meals here - when we’re on long deployment, the food extruder over there can produce rations. They’re not amazing but they’re quick both to make and eat. It’ll also make reasonable meat and dairy substitutes. If you want a real meal though we usually keep the good stuff in deep freeze so it takes a fair amount of time to be ready. Other than that the bev dispenser is over there. Water and various juices on tap all the time, alcohol is restricted only to meals only. We all get together for breakfast and dinner though, since it’s just a good way to socialize. Tonight expect a big meal in celebration.”
He walked out of the mess, and opened a door to a large open area. “Rec room. Not used a whole lot because most of us use haptic suits for exercise and recreation but we don’t have a suit that’ll fit you or your wings, so I want you to be in here twice a week at least. Ma’et is a great partner for any exercise that doesn’t involve fighting, unless you like bruises in which case she’ll happily go a few rounds with gloves on. Pilots don’t get the level of exercise you’re used to on the planet working fields so exercise up here will be pretty damn vital.”
She looked around the room, then hurried to catch up to the captain as he walked out. “On the other side of the hall from the Mess is general storage. Cleaning supplies, a small laundry unit if the one in your room quits working, random odds and ends. Also a few extra bunks just in case we need them. Unfortunately I am going to have to have you spend one night in here while we get your room cleaned up and ready for you.” He walked in, and over to one of the walls. “Bunk folds down from here. Looks, uh…” He glanced at the fold-down bed and back at Trix. “Looks tight. Do me a favor and see if you’re gonna be OK there?”
It was very close, but Trix laid down on the sleeping pad and adjusted until she found a good comfortable spot. “For just one night, this will do…”
“Alright, no worries then. We’ll have your room ready quick as we can.” She got off the pad and Alex gestured for her to follow. “Quarters themselves are here, 4 on either side of the main hallway. Myself, Josh, Ma’et, and Amanda on the right in that order. Ji, Min, Your quarters, and the last was converted into a mechanical room for Par. Speaking of…”
He walked into the last room and knocked on a large hatch. “Par, would it be alright if I introduced our newest shipmate?”
“Of course, Captain.” The hatch slid silently open revealing a large, intricate array. Circuit boards were laid out in rows and wires ran between them in perfectly neat, ordered channels. In the center of it all was a large oblong egg-looking object. “Trix, may I present to you Parathanelias Sigma-822.”
Several rows of lights lit up along the side of the egg, and the pleasant musical voice she’d heard so often came from a small speaker alongside it. “It is a pleasure to meet you in person, Trksehnoarala.”
Trix stared at the open hatch then gestured behind her. “I thought you were in those floating metal balls…?”
“The spheres you mention are my remotes. None of them are large enough to house my primary systems. In a way, they are my eyes, ears, and limbs. My true nature is integration here within the ship itself, and I make up for my limited mobility in person by having the greatest mobility of any other member of the crew.”
“He also has an avatar in VR of an organic human, but most of the time he uses the floating spheres to interact with us and the rest of the world. His core,” Alex gestured to the egg-like central object, “houses his base personality and his most important memories. The rest of this is extra storage for less critical information. I’m a bit jealous because his most important memories will always be preserved forever in perfect clarity. The rest of us get to have our memories fade with time, but his will be eternal.”
Alex stood there mutely for a moment then shook his head. “Anyway. Back to the tour. Thanks Par!”
“My pleasure.” The hatch slid silently shut and Alex and Trix left the room. “This room has been empty for long enough I pretty much gave it over to Ji and Min for a long while.” Alex walked into the room next to Par’s. “It’s kind of a mess but we’re going to get it cleaned up then it’ll be yours.”
There was no bed in the room, and the tables against the walls were covered with electronics and quickboards. In the center of the room, a huge metal contraption was spread out. Eight large jointed legs were wired in to a big central circular turret. Above that, a multitude of ‘limbs’ extended out - one a large grasper with clawed metal fingers, another ending with an odd cone-shaped implement with a blackened tip. A third was a huge metal pipe jutting out, and a fourth looked to be a number of small openings to place something into.
Trix gestured to it, “What is THAT thing?”
“That’s the Spider. It’s a long-time project the Twins have been working on. Pretty much since they joined the crew, really. It was meant to be a mechanical walker for the military but… well, that’s their story to tell.” Alex snorted. “There’s going to be enough time to go into the details later. Point is, before we even start leaving the system we’re gonna move this out, get a full king sized bed in here for you, some more storage, and so on. That door,” He gestured to a door on the other side of the room, “Leads to a hygiene unit. Full on shower, no bath but if you want to soak the Pool’s down a floor. Aside from no tub it has a deluxe toilet, sink, and a small cleaning unit for clothes.”
Trix cautiously stepped around the large disassembled robot, and opened the door to peer inside. The hygiene unit was much larger than she’d expected, and she was grateful to see that most of the facilities was familiar to her.
“Okay, one last stop and it’s the most important.” Alex walked out into the hallway and Trix rushed to catch up, almost tripping as she hopped over a piece of scrap cable along the floor. “I’m sure this will become your second home on the ship real fast. The bridge.”
They walked down the hall through a small access corridor into a large, wide open space. A large chair sat in the center with a number of controls and articulating arms present on the back. In front of it, a number of control panels were arranged in rows. The front of the bridge and both sides were dominated by massive window screens that showed the area the ship was currently facing. She could see one screen to the side with a display showing Kiveyt, first as a small dot with a zoomed-in and blown up image next to it.
“The door back there in the corner leads to a briefing room, nothing special there but a table and chairs. The big chair in the middle is mine, but if you ask super nicely I’ll let you sit in it.” Alex grinned, and pointed at the console in the very center of the bridge, in front of the Captain’s chair. “But that station over there is primary navigation. Josh is there quite a lot of the time, though just as often I navigate from the Captain’s Chair or Ma’et controls the ship from her neural interface. As of now, though, I bequeath ownership of it unto you - for the next few weeks, at least.”
Trix walked around the bridge staring at everything. The control consoles were smooth, rounded and sleek in their presentation. Each one had a large keyboard in front covered with the strange runes of the Humans’ language. Various other instruments and implements were present at each station, but at hers she smiled gratefully to see that the keys had already changed and had more familiar and recognizable letters in place of the Humans odd script. The layout was definitely weird, and she knew it was going to take time and effort to grow accustomed but at the very least she would be able to understand what she was doing as she learned. Even better, the seat lacked the same high back that the other seats had, which would have been pressed tightly and uncomfortably against her wings.
She glanced back at Alex, who just nodded at her. Encouraged, she took a seat and glanced around. “This is mine.” She whispered it and then let her wings spread out with pleasure as she realized that from here, from this station, she would be the one personally controlling the entire massive vehicle behind her. It lacked the flight stick of the shuttle or the handle controls of her aircar, and in a way she felt disappointed she wouldn’t be able to manually control the ship the same way she could the smaller vehicles. But as she looked around her and rested her hands on the cool surface of the console, she felt something else. A thrill of anticipation at the thought of being the one in control of this massive ship and everyone inside of it.
Alex climbed several steps up to the captain’s chair on its elevated dais, and took a seat directly behind her. The sight of a winged alien in front of him at the nav console with the stars stretching out above and beyond her was a strange one, but a pleasant one. He tried to think of a witty quip to finish the tour with, but failing that he settled for a much simpler one instead.
“Welcome aboard, Pilot.”
—--
“Okay, before we get started, I believe that this is a special occasion warranting a toast.” Alex sat at the head of the large table at the mess, with the other six organic members of the crew assembled further down. “To our new pilot trainee!”
“Here Here!” “To Trix!” “To our Trainee!”
Alex took a sip of his whisky, and sighed in pleasure. “God that hits the spot. Okay everyone, dig in.”
The dinner was an odd affair, mostly because every single member was wearing their visor. Trix could not speak English, and the crew couldn’t speak her native tongue. Masks which would automatically translate couldn’t be worn during a meal so the solution was to have real-time speech to text appearing on everyone’s visor. Trix, who never had worn a visor before, had a difficult time getting the display to appear just right in front of her eyes but she and Par had gotten it dialed in.
Trix glanced at the array of food in front of her. Some items looked familiar, others completely foreign, and none of it smelled quite right. She gestured to the food. “None of this is from Kiveyt. Is it safe for me to eat it?”
“I went through our entire comestible database while we were on the planet. Surprisingly there’s almost no Terran food you can’t eat.” Josh had a massive burrito nearly as long as Ma’et’s arm on the plate in front of him, and he spoke while dabbing hot sauce over it. “All of our Macronutrients are completely interchangeable. Most Micronutrients are as well. There’s a few exotic vitamins and amino acids that you need that we can’t provide, but we have supplements from the planet that’ll handle those.”
“Oh.” Trix glanced around at the table, trying to decide what to eat. The spread was, per Alex’s suggestion, extremely large and quite diverse. “I’m not sure where to start then.”
Min picked up a large platter with a circular dish on it. “Far as I’m concerned the best place to start is with Pizza. It’s one of the most widely loved foods throughout Terran space.” She dumped a slice onto the plate in front of Trix, while Ji slid a very tall glass of water over to her, alongside an odd reddish looking beverage.
“Give the fruit punch a try too. It’s much more sweet than the juice you were serving down on the planet. A lot more mild too.” He suggested, and gestured to another plate. “Also? Tacos are never a bad choice.”
Trix reached out and picked up one of the odd, semi-circular items. Ji grabbed one as well, and bit into it with gusto. Trix mimicked the motion, crunching into the hard shell. It was quite interesting, tasteless at first as she bit into the shell and the lettuce, but then the spiced meat hit her tongue. It was quite mild but not unpleasant. She chewed on it and gulped down a mouthful. “Not bad.” She took another bite.
The taco vanished quickly, and she glanced down at the slice of Pizza next. “Like this, Trix.” Min gestured to pick it up by the crust, putting her fingers in front of it to prevent it from flopping down. Trix followed Min’s example, and took a huge bite. This one was even milder, almost disappointingly so. “Not much flavor to this one. Is all your food really light like this?”
The humans glanced around at that. “Y’know, Sophie mentioned our rations were tasteless. They have a pretty strong cinnamon taste to ‘em.” Alex sat back thoughtfully as he nursed the glass of whisky in his hand. “The food we had down on the planet was all pretty strong flavors…”
Josh handed the bottle of hot sauce in his hand over to Trix. “Try a dab of this. It adds a kick to some foods.”
Trix took the bottle, and put a few drops of it on the slice of pizza in front of her. She took another bite, and her eyes lit up. The next few bites all had more hot sauce each, and the crust itself ended up practically drenched in it. “Thanks, Josh. That was delicious.”
The rest of the crew was staring at her and she shrunk back slightly at their intense scrutiny. Had she done something wrong? She hadn’t ever offended them during any meals back on the planet, so the sudden shift in attention was jarring and quite uncomfortable.
Ji whistled at the sight of the alien hungrily wofling down the slice of pizza covered in bright spicy sauce. “Here, try some of that on a taco next!” He picked up another shell and offered it to her.
Trix reached out and took the taco, this time pouring a hefty amount of sauce on it. Eating this one was much messier, and she could feel the hot sauce dribbling down the side of her mouth as she took a huge bite. Min handed her a paper towel, and she embarrassedly wiped away the errant food. “Thanks, Min. That was great too, Ji.”
“Hold up.” Alex stood up and walked over to one of the cupboards, pulling out another bottle of sauce. “I’m curious now. This is a lot hotter than the sauce you’ve been trying thus far. See if it’s to your liking. Just, start with a very small amount. A little goes a LONG way.” He walked back to the table, placing the bottle next to Trix. She studied it briefly, mostly the logo - a caricature of a human whose head appeared to be on fire.
“Um, Okay. Should I try it with the Pizza or the Taco?” She glanced between the two dishes she’d already tried. “Either one. Whichever you prefer.” was Alex’s reply.
Trix reached out and grabbed a third Taco, opening up the bottle. Immediately she could smell the fragrant sauce within, and she carefully poured a small amount into the shell. She cautiously took a bite and chewed thoughtfully.
“Too hot?” Alex suggested, but she shook her head. “No. Just…” She poured more sauce on the taco, and ate the rest in only a few bites. “Whew. Sorry, Captain Alexander. That was incredible! I’ve never tasted anything like it before.”
“Captain Alexander just sounds weird. Call me Alex or Al. Or ‘Captain’ if you really, really need to use my rank for whatever reason.” Alex sat down, and chuckled. “But that’s interesting. Very, very interesting. That sauce there?” He gestured towards the bottle. “It’s made with a chemical called ‘Capsaicin’. To humans it’s a powerful spice. Too much of it causes a painful burning sensation that lingers. We normally dilute it to make it more palatable and less painful.”
Trix glanced at the bottle. “I guess that explains the fire on the little picture here.” She grabbed another slice of the pizza, and drizzled the sauce on top.
“Three tacos and two slices of pizza?” Ma’et was impressed as she saw how much food the Avian was packing away.
“The disadvantage of those muscular bodies.” Josh waved his hand towards Trix. “They require all the calories that a Human does and more. Back on the planet I learned their species used to be a lot smaller, but after developing animal husbandry and reliable sources of higher calorie foods they bulked up pretty quick.”
Trix, for her part, slicked off the second slice of pizza with gusto. She grabbed a fourth taco, and liberally poured the spicy sauce all over, before wolfing that down as well. She grabbed the fruit juice that Ji had offered her… the ‘punch’? And downed it almost as quickly.
“I hope after all this is over, we can buy some more of that sauce. I definitely want the others back at home to try it.” She licked her lips, and sighed with contentment. “This juice too. I like how sweet it is.”
“Birds are immune to Capsaicin.” Josh murmured softly, but it was picked up by the visor and translated perfectly. “I wonder what the chances are that space-birds would be too?”
—--
“Slide the jack under that joint there.” Trix did as instructed, wheeling the small hydraulic device under the ‘spider’s’ massive leg. “Great. Just gotta line up the leg with where the servos join in…” Ji and Min lifted the leg and immediately began connecting up cables and lines. After all the connections were made, Ji braced himself against the wall and shoved - hard - against the leg, firmly connecting the mechanical rotary joint into place.
“Okay, testing.” Min walked over to the console and began punching in codes. Like the other six limbs before it, this one shook slightly then began to flex, twist, and move around. “Range of motion is nominal. Motors are all showing peak. Locking joints and anchor bolt systems are green.”
Ji wiped off some sweat from his forehead, and leaned back against the wall. “I knew it was a mistake to work on it up here. At least if we put it in the hangar we could have lowered the gravity.”
“It would have been in the way during the rescue op, and we had enough shit going on then we didn’t need to add ‘reassemble a multi-ton walking modular platform’ to the list.” Min gestured with her head, not even glancing over at her brother. “Man up. Trix hasn’t even broken a sweat.”
“I don’t sweat.” Trix mumbled, as she stared at the massive machine. “This thing is crazy. Puts my car to shame.”
“Yeah, our pride and joy. Together we’ve spent decades refining it.” Min glanced over at Trix with a broad smile. “The modular bay on top has been my focus, while Ji’s been adjusting and perfecting the leg and motion systems.”
“What’s it for?”
“Well, right now it’s kind of in between intended uses.” Ji walked over to a large shelf and gestured to the assorted objects there. “With our original plans it was going to have a bunch of swappable options. Right now, it has short and long range assault armaments and a plasma cutter for breaching sealed doors. A basic military drone capable of adapting to all kinds of situations.”
Trix stared at the array of weapons in front of her. “So this is what the human military uses to fight with?”
“Nah.” Min set down the quickboard and walked over to the huge machine. “We envisioned it as a multi-purpose response unit. Capable of dropping in from outside the atmosphere an landing anywhere, going anywhere. Dealing with any situation that could possibly arise. It’s an all-terrain support mech and its modular nature would have made it able to respond to nearly any situation. And it was rejected by the military.”
“What? Why?”
Ji held up a hand and ticked off his fingers. “One, it’s more expensive to drop one of these than a squad of soldiers. Nevermind the fact that it can do 10 people’s worth of work without putting even a single person in danger. Two, it’s too big to be fired out of normal launchers. Adding new launchers to ships would have been a significant amount of work and cost that the navy wasn’t willing to foot the bill. Three, we didn’t have any money after developing it. Meaning we couldn’t bribe anyone in the government into pressuring the military to work with us.”
“Four, they already have hover tanks and artillery and we couldn’t convince them that our system was superior to those.” Min sighed, and threw herself into a chair.
“Hovering is cheating though.” Ji glared at his sister.
“Cheating? What?” Trix just looked bewildered at this.
“Hovering isn’t all-terrain. Hovering is NO terrain.”
“Oh.” Trix took a seat in a nearby chair herself. “So did the captain buy this then?”
“Nope. See, we were finishing up Uni and started developing the Spider, but we didn’t really have the money to actually MAKE one. We had all the plans and all the research on our side but not the raw materials or the money to get those raw materials.” Ji pulled out a stick of gum and popped it in his mouth. “At first we tried going straight to the military which was a huge mistake, they just made a million excuses and told us to get lost. Then we tried approaching some weapon dev companies for funding. They basically told us they’d fund it in exchange for all the rights to production and we’d get whatever they felt was fair. Which when we pressed on a figure, wasn’t much.”
Trix glanced over at the massive mech. “But it got made, obviously.”
“Yup. When we weren’t sure what to do, a buddy of ours mentioned that Al was looking for an engineering team. We can do starship engineering.” Min grabbed the quickboard and extended one of the spider’s legs towards her, so she could kick her feet up on it. “Matter of fact, this ship’s a thing of beauty. Al is a complete doofus but he takes fantastic care of the ship. When we came on we gave him a list of everything that should change. He sat down with us, went over it point by point, and even though it ended up costing over half a million credits he gave us full authorization to make every single change we suggested.”
“So after we did a stint working as engineers we joined up as crew.” Ji had an odd smile on his face. “Since then, we’ve put the money we made from working here towards building this thing. We actually had it completed but then I had this idea of using an array of microservo actuators instead of a larger servo to give us a lot more fine control over the joints. That didn’t work, like, at all but when we used a combination of them we managed to find just the right ratio that gives us twice the amount of precision in each joint, which lets us use the-”
“ANYWAY.” Min interrupted her Brother before he could get too deep into the weeds. “We had it built, with the original armaments we envisioned, but Al suggested making a module for mining and sampling. We brought it in here in order to disassemble it to make the servo adjustments and while we were at it we were going to be replacing the actual weapons with a mining beam, core sample collector, and an array of sensors. Now though we’re going to put it in storage for a while. We got much more important things to take care of now.”
“Oh.” Trix had begun to tune Ji out when he launched into his diatribe. “But what do you mean joined up as crew? You were already crew, weren’t you?”
Min swung her foot down, and gestured to the ship. “It’s different. There’s employees… and then there’s crew. Right now you’re an employee. You’re working with us, you’re out here, but your home’s back with your Teff. Right?”
Trix nodded.
“Well, when you’re crew… this is your home. We’re all family out here. I don’t know as much about the whole Teff thing but I think it’s sort of similar. This ship’s our home, the crew is our family. Alex may be a childish idiot but he’s loyal to his crew like nothing else.” Min stood up and walked over to put her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “When we worked here and started to see how well he treats his people, we felt like we could really belong here. He asked if we’d like to join up, so we did. Best decision we ever made.”
“Yup. He treats the crew as well as he treats the ship.” Ji gestured around him. “Working for him paid well. Working as crew, we don’t get paid regularly but we get a cut out of every mission and that cut is HUGE. That’s how we could afford to actually build the spider in the first place.”
“Ah. So if he invited me along, does that mean he wants me to join the crew too?” Trix wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Joining another family was commonplace for males who left their Teff to join others, but incredibly rare for females.
“Dunno. He’s hired on specialists in the past who’ve come and gone. And he’s invited people to join up who said no and that was that.” Ji shrugged and pressed the release on the hydraulic press, letting it collapse down. “C’mon, we should get the last leg attached. Then we can pack it up and use a grav collar to move it down to the hangar. Don’t want to make you stay in that cramped storage room again tonight.”
“Yeah, I tried to stretch my wings in the morning and I banged up against one of the shelves. Really not looking forward to that again.” Trix grumbled at the memory, and stood up. “Okay, what more do we need done to get this over with?”
—--

https://www.jrcountry.ca/secretsound/
These are all of the incorrect guesses so far:

• Waves Washing up on the Shore.
• Pulling a Tarp off something and then water falling off of it.
• Emptying Empty Cans into the Blue Bin.
• Pulling a Shower Curtain Open.
• Rummaging through a container filled with Lego.
• Coins going into a Coin Counter.
• Dragging a Bag of Empty Cans.
• Sweeping up Broken Glass.
• Rock/Gravel being poured out.
• Digging through a Box of Lego.
• The game called Coin Pusher.
• Moving a bag of plastic bottles.
• Slamming of a door and glass breaking.
• An ice machine Making and Dispensing Ice.
• Scooping ice out of a bucket.
• Garbage truck emptying it’s bin into it’s truck.
• Garage door being opened manually.
• Pulling a boat up on shore.
• Emptying a bucket of Lego.
• Digging through a bucket of nuts and bolts.
• Opening vertical blinds via rope or chain.
• Metal shutters going up and down.
• Reaching into an ice cooler to pull out a beer.
• Dishwasher.
• Sweeping up Broken Glass into a Dustpan and putting it into a garbage can.
• Pulling tinfoil and ripping it.
• Ice being made inside a fridge then dropping into an ice collectobucket.
• Metal Roll Up Door being opened up.
• Pushing out the paper tray on a photo copier machine.
• Sorting recycling (cans, bottles, etc).
• Pulling a chain out of the water, either an anchor or crab trap, onto a boat.
• Shoveling Snow.
• Pulling a metal chain out of the back of a truck.
• Scraping Ice off the roof line and it hitting the ground.
• Drawing the blinds by hand.
• Manual or push lawn mower.
• Closing the rear door of a moving truck.
• Opening or closing of a chain hoist of a commercial door.
• Pulling a shopping cart away from another cart.
• Adjusting your car seat.
• Heavy rain/wind hitting the roof of a car.
• Pulling the cord on a lawn mower.
• Pulling the bowling pins up and scrape away.
• Dishwasher going through it’s cycle.
• Excavator tracks running on gravel.
• Scraping the ice off your windshield.
• Photocopy machine making copies.
• Ice cubes dispensing from a fridge into a glass.
• Can crushing machine.
• Extracting candy from a gumball machine.
• Opening or closing a barn door.
• Ice being dumped into a cooler.
• Pouring drink into a cup of ice.
• Brushing water out of your driveway using a broom.
• Oysters being shoveled off a barge.
• Rowing machine at the gym.
• A Printer.
• Mixing concrete.
• Excavator Digging.
• Condo food compactor.
• Turning an outboard motor on a boat on/off.
• Pouring dog food out of a bag into a plastic bowl.
• Manually opening a garage door.
• Pouring wood chips out of a metal bucket.
• Ice washing up on the shore.
• Pouring charcoal into the BBQ.
• Asphalt milling.
• Opening or closing an ironing board.
• Belt inside a laundromat dryer.
• Opening and closing a tool box with tools.
• Rummaging through a utensil drawer.
• A box moving along a metal roller conveyor belt.
• Pouring busted up concrete or bricks out of a wheel barrow.
• A fish hook you put through the mouth of a fish, slapping the side of an aluminum boat.
• Bingo balls rolling around in the bingo ball cage.
• A bobcat dumping asphalt into a dump truck.
• Boat going through the water, crashing on the waves.
• An extension ladder with a rope pull.
• A car going through an automated car wash.
• Opening a box of cereal and pouring it into a bowl.
• Metal bingo ball wheel.
• Golf ball dispenser at a driving range.
• Shovelling gravel into a wheel barrow and a couple of pieces fall out.
• Hail hitting a metal roof.
• Pulling paper towel from a paper towel dispenser.
• Dropping an anchor from a boat into the water.
• Wooden framed sliding door opening and closing.
• Coin pay pool table with the balls dropping.
• Freezer drawer opening and closing on a fridge.
• Paddling a kayak.
• Coin operated toy machine.
• Pouring cans out of recycling bin into another bin.
• Pouring coffee beans into a coffee grinder.
• Pouring ice into a cup.
• Lifting up a moving truck door.
• Bowling ball hitting the pins and then the pins falling down.
• A chain link fence gate opening and closing.
• Pulling out a vacuum cord or putting it back in.
• Returning a shopping cart to a shopping cart corral.
• A garbage truck picking up a garbage can and dumping it into the garbage truck.
• A boat being pushed into the water from the shore – metal boat.
• Shoveling snow and hitting the concrete with your shovel.
• Metal oars on a row boat.
• A hand cement mixer that you have to twist by hand.
• Opening an umbrella.
• Changing over the cash in a cash register.
• Foot scuffing gravel as you’re kicking the gravel.
• Sea shells washing up on the shore.
• Boat oars going in and out of the water as you’re rowing.
• Employee closing the security shutters in front of a store front, in a mall.
• Automatic soil composter.
• A bowling alley when they’re resetting the bowling pins.
• Kaleidoscope turning.
• Cement coming out of a cement truck down the chute where a person is assisting the cement going into a container.
• Grating a carrot on a boxed grater.
• Skee-ball machine when you put the money in, push it in, and the balls drop to play.
• Windshield wipers.
• Leaf rake raking up debris.
• Ice machine on a fridge.
• Pulling the lever on a slot machine.
• Skating on ice.
• Taking a shovel, taking a load of gravel and then dumping it into a wheelbarrow.
• Pushing/Pulling a salt spreader.
• Using a push broom to sweep up cans or something.
• A Rock tumbler.
• Chains being pulled through a pulley.
• Being on the receiving end of a pocket dial.
• Waves flapping around your feet at the beach.
• Scooping ice and filling a glass.
• Rolling up a garden hose.
• Old push lawn mower.
• Emptying pencil crayons onto a table.
• When you put a new lid on your water cooler jug at the refill station.
• Tinfoil being torn off the roll.
• Flat deck cart dispenser at IKEA.
• Snacks falling from a vending machine.
• Reaching into a cooler of ice and grabbing some beverages.
• A soft hinge drawer opening and closing.
• A turnstile.
• Raking gravel.
• A wrecking ball hitting a building.
• A monster truck driving over cars and crushing them.
• Pulling the cord on a boat motor to start it.
• An automatic card shuffler.
• Rolling and engaging the latch on a roll up tonneau cover.
• Cars going up a roller coaster before you go down.
• Scooping up hard shell candy (ie. jelly beans).
• Pallet jack going into a skid.
• Scooping already made/popped popcorn.
• Cleaning out an aquarium.
• Popcorn kernels spinning in a popcorn maker.
• Backloademachine trying to crunch some trash at the dump.
• Office chair rolling back and forth on a hard surface.
• Elevator doors opening and closing.
• Tape Measure.
• Spin Mop.
• Pulling aluminum foil out of the box.
• Tipping over a toy bin and toys falling out.
• Pizzeria Conveyor Belt.
• Winch hooking a car on a flat bed tow truck.
• Tow Truck operator pulling chains onto the Flatbed.
• Jenga blocks falling.
• Sails of a sail boat flapping in the breeze.
• Opening and closing a shower curtain.
• A manual coffee bean grinder.
• Jumping into and walking around a ball pit.
• Push toys/spin top toy.
• Metal adjustable basketball hoop.
• Filing cabinet drawer opening/closing.
• Running your hands through glass rocks in your patio table fire pit.
• Raking leaves.
• Crumpling up a chip bag.
• Crumpling up paper.
• Shoveling gravel.
• A salad spinner.
• Tool box drawer opening and closing.
• Someone walking through a plastic curtain.
• Wooden beads on a children’s beads maze toy.
• Putting a tape into the VCR and door closes.
• Shoveling lava rock out of wheel barrow.
• Poker chips in a box.
• Entering an icy cold bath.

I am not the OP. That is u/No_Chrysler-4-Me. Originally posted on EntitledPeople and pettyrevenge.
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There are two previous BORUs I posted last year:
First Post Jan 8, 2023
Second Post Jan 8, 2023
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Trigger Warning: Domestic Violence
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Editor's Note: THIS IS VERY LONG! OP posts a lot about his family. I will include links to other posts at the bottom of this BORU, but I will keep this post focused on the brother and OP.
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TL;DR of the above BORUs: OP's older brother is lazy and a cheapskate. OP bought a truck, an '03 Toyota Tundra. Brother gets jealous and buys a 01 Dodge Ram 1500, but it's crap. OP tries to help brother fix up the truck despite warning him not to buy it. Once it was running a little better, brother challenges OP to a race. Brother loses and becomes obsessed with practicing racing, ruining the truck further. Eventually they go camping, have more shenanigans, brother finally blows the transmission. Brother has to drive his ex-girlfriend's minivan, which he hates, tries to LS Swap the Ram, but no one will lend him the money. He eventually sells it. Brother doesn't stop there. He NEEDS a truck, so he has the brilliant idea of chopping the minivan up to make it into a truck. He needs money to Frankenstein the minivan, no one will pay, but eventually he cuts it up, uses recycled wood to make the truck bed, etc. He calls it the "Mini-Ram."
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My brother sold the Mini-Ram and got a Silverado. That was fine. It's what happened after that made things worse May 5, 2024
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I've been gone for some time. But I'm back with a bad one. I've spoken before about how my older brother competed with me needlessly. And he did a lot of beyond stupid shit. Well he finally pushed the whole family over the edge, and got disowned. And I'm going to be explaining a lot of what happened the past year, and then some from before that. But it's too long for one post.
Well going back more than a year. Some may remember my brother getting a free minivan from his ex after the Dodge Ram truck I warned him not to buy became a moneypit. I helped him work on that truck and even repaint it. And I helped him remodel his camper trailer too. Why? Because he's my brother. And I guess some part of me deep down kept hoping he'd one day change. But he tried to take credit for things I did. Especially with remodeling the camper. And he had tantrums when called out on his lies. He also became temporarily obsessed with my truck, and even implied he'd just take it from me because he hated driving a minivan. He referred to it as a chick car. He acted like a complete child because I refused to trade vehicles, and even got our parents involved. It was just a really stupid and needless situation that my brother tried to make a hill to die on.
It started when my brother bought his Dodge Ram simply because I bought a Toyota Tundra. He had a perfectly running Subaru Baja before that. Then he said he wanted a man's truck and bought the worst barely running pile he could find that was also overpriced considering the condition. He could have at least aimed for a diesel since he wanted a dodge so bad. Lots of dumb shit happened after that. Including my brother wanting to LS swap the Ram after destroying it's engine and two transmissions. But I'm pretty sure the person who offered to do the LS swap for him was a scammer. Not to mention LS swapping any vehicle basically means replacing the ECU. But it never happened anyway since the engine and transmission my brother wanted sold before he could get them. And he had no running vehicle anymore. So my brother's ex, whom he has a young child with, gave him her old 90s Ford Windstar van. It was admittedly an ugly, dent riddled POS with the rear window busted out. But it still ran and drove surprisingly well, considering that's not one of Ford's better vehicles. And then my brother decided to cut it up into some sort of van/truck. Or a ute as they're called in some places. But he made this thing ugly. Lots of spray foam, recycled wood, and rattle can paint. Even mismatched sub-lights above the cab. He frequently raided the junkyard for parts. And he even glued a Ram badge onto the grill of that van/truck. He called it the Mini-Ram. Lots of stupid cheap mods done to that vehicle too. Someone once asked me how ugly the Mini-Ram was on a scale of 1 to 1000. And I said about a 667.
My brother did a lot of other dumb things in this time. Like following me camping just to piss me off. He was a general leech who stole power from my generator, and tried to steal beer from my camper fridge repeatedly. He was so brazen as to just walk right in, and then tried to pretend to be so drunk he didn't realize what he was doing when caught. I've spoken many times about how he stole booze from me. Until my friends and I revenge pranked him and his near equally douchey friends with a growler full of laxative tainted beer. We admittedly used way too much laxative. But my brother never stole from me again because I threatened to tell everyone about his humiliation. He crapped on his own shoes squatting in the woods. And that's just a bit of it.
Eventually my brother seemed to learn his lesson. He sold the Mini-Ram to someone who actually paid him well for it. And no, I don't know what they did with it. And I don't care. But, when the 2K he sold the Mini-Ram for was combined with his savings, my brother had a bit over 4.5K to buy a better vehicle with. And he spotted a 99 RWD Silverado truck with an extended cab for sale online. He really shouldn't have sold his only method of transportation before having a replacement vehicle ready. But I couldn't fault him for taking the deal when presented, considering what he sold. And as much as my brother annoyed me, I still cared about him enough to help. He showed up begging me to drive him over 60 miles to look at this truck he found on Market Place.
So I reluctantly drove him out to see this truck. It wasn't that bad actually. Save for the rough mismatched paint, the rusty hood, the dents, the cracked windshield, and.... Actually, I guess it was kinda that bad. But not compared to the clapped out Ram my brother bought previously. The Silverado had a manual transmission, which we both confirmed shifted great as the records showed it had been rebuilt a few years before. The engine had been swapped at one time too. So it was kinda hard to gauge the odometer as it had not been rolled back for the new engine. It was at about 350.000 miles, but those numbers don't really mean jack when the engine and tranny have been replaced or rebuilt. Admittedly the engine ran like a top. The tires on the truck were in pretty damn good shape too. And on steel rims. Which I like. Very practical. I asked my brother if this was the manly kind of truck he'd been looking for. And for once he spoke logically and said that he'd rather have this than risk what happened with the Ram again. Fair enough. Besides, Chevy trucks are cool and reliable. I've always liked them. Like a rock as they say.
My brother and I scrutinized this truck in detail like a pair of pawn brokers, and talked the price down to 3K. They wanted 4K. But we could hear a sound while test driving it that was either bad ball joints or wheel bearings. We jacked up the wheels, and the bearings felt and sounded fine. But the ball joints were pretty bad. And that's not a cheap fix unless you can do it yourself. The truck was owned by the seller's father, who'd passed away a year prior. So the guy took 3K for it after we listed the problems. After driving it back, I insisted my brother get the truck to a mechanic ASAP. And he listened that time. The mechanic said the ball joints were about to come apart, and it's have caused a very bad situation if they had. And it cost him a grand to get them replaced. The truck also needed new plates ant the title registered. Which ate up a lot of the remaining budget. Then came the paint. My brother wanted the Silverado painted black right away. I told him to wait. But he didn't listen and DIY'd some body work, and then rattle-canned it with Rustolium turbo cans. The paint was full of orange peel, and overspray. He didn't even use primer. And the truck looked kinda mediocre. Then the southern weather had at it. Already numerous chips, scrapes and fades. Whatever. I stopped caring.
You'd think that'd be the end of this part. But no. There's more. What's behind door number 3? If you guessed a dumbass with a knife stuck in his ass. Then you'd win the gold! Yeah that's right. My brother got a knife in his ass.... How? How else... He and his friends all got high and decided they were gonna go outside and build a fort in the back yard of the house they rent out of scrap they found laying around. My brother while stoned wanted to show off how he can flip out a butterfly knife really fast, and decided he was gonna act like he was in an action movie, and did some sort of stupid thing where he was running and flipping out the knife really fast. The ground was wet, he slipped, and somehow got the knife in his right butt-cheek. They called me to come take him to the hospital because they were all too stoned to drive. I had to lay my brother down in the bed of my truck on a mattress because we were too scared to pull the knife out, and I drove him to the hospital like that. They rushed him in, and thankfully he only needed about 5 stiches on his butt and some antibiotics. Then I drove him back home the same way, and he insisted I take him to a drive through. He also tried to get me to pay, because...reasons! I told him to buy his own damn food.
After that there was more dumb BS that I won't bother getting into. But eventually my brother was seemingly getting bett...er...less bad. He was a bit sore his Silverado wasn't a 4X4, and my Tundra is. But being RWD kept him from trying to take it off-roading. He did try once, and had to pull the truck out of mud with a come-along. And he didn't try it again. He did want to drag race my truck again too. I said hell no. Not gonna risk either of our piles breaking down. And he was a complete douche about that too. I told him to stop acting like his dick was bigger than it is, and act his age. He didn't take that well. But he seemingly really was improving. Even being a much better dad to his daughter. Things got pretty good for him. Until I decided to buy a house. That's when the serious drama started.
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My entitled brother threw a massive fit, just because he was mad I bought a house May 6, 2024
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Yeah, I'm aware of several similar stories involving entitled family members wanting houses they have no claim to. But I guess this shit really happens. And it's no picnic when it does.
I suddenly became a homeowner some time ago because friend of mine's grandfather was moving to Florida. And his house was ripe for picking. I knew the old man well. RIP, he passed a few months later from a sudden stroke. Anyway, he offered the house and property to me for 200K. I practically ran to the bank to apply for the loan. The house is a manufactured home from the 80s. But it was remodeled repeatedly by the former owner, and has a separate garage building. The home and property could have gone for more. But he offered the house to me because he knew I'd take care of it. I had 30K saved that made a good down payment. And I was happy to leave my apartment. I'd wanted to eventually move out of there after what my cheating ex did anyway. But that's a story for another time.
As for my brother. Well he went bonkers when he found out I bought a house. He had this repeated history of copycatting me for the past decade. But this... There was no way in hell he could copycat buying a house with his terrible credit and inconsistent income. And he got in an argument with me over how I was just trying to make him look bad by doing something he couldn't. No, I just wanted a damn house. And the price was too good to refuse. Then he told me I should have turned it down because...(He had no good reason) I could practically see his screws getting looser with every dumbass excuse he made as to why I shouldn't have done it. But I pointed out all those excuses were just because I did something he currently can't. And when I bought the house, it had nothing to do with him. I just wanted to be a home owner for the security and extra space. I finally don't have to store my camper at my parents' house. And I have a garage that I can store stuff and tinker in.
I bought a camping cot, he bought a camping cot, went to the gym, he went to the gym, bought good booze, he bought good booze (Or stole it from me), I bought a new TV, be bought a new TV, I bought a truck, he bought a truck, I bought a camper, he bought a camper, I bought a used portable DVD player, he bought a used portable DVD player, I went camping in a specific place, he went camping in that specific place, I bought a house, he...(404 Error! Insert tea kettle noises and Benny Hill chase). He also acted like a complete child toward me when he built his Mini-Ram thing. He actually confronted me and said it was keweler than my boring Tundra, because it was something original. I swear, he did the dumbest mods to that vehicle. Like putting twist studs in the suspension coils to raise the ride height.
Well after weeks of openly fuming about me being a home owner, my brother suddenly acted like he had another brilliant idea. He wanted to move in with me. I laughed at him. Then he ended up demanding I rent one of my rooms to him. And for only $200 a month (Utilities included) because he shouldn't have to pay any more than that since we're family. He flipped his lid when I said fuck no! Then he got our parents involved again. Only this time they actually sided with him at first. Though it was mainly our mother. She and my brother showed up demanding I let my brother move in. And my brother had a shit eating grin on his face that I could tell he was thinking he was getting his way thanks to mommy dearest. I said "FUCK NO!" to both their faces, and my mother cried that I was using foul language to her and being an ass when I had the space now. I called my dad, and he told my mom that he'd warned her I wouldn't do it. And to leave me the hell alone. Mom whined my brother was living out of his camper next to a shabby house he was renting space from. I said that wasn't my problem to fix. And my brother has proven countless times that he cannot be trusted. My brother was fuming to the point of being red with veins popping out. My mom tried one more time to convince me with tears. And that just made me angrier.
I went on a rant that was something like this. Bro can't buy a house, so he wanted to invade mine. I refuse to ever live with my brother again. I would sooner live in the woods without electricity than with him. He's intentionally irritating as all hell. And if I had him as a roommate, I just knew he'd steal my booze, take my stuff, and invade my privacy none-stop. Not. Fucking. HAPPENING! No matter how many tears mom tries using on me. My mom broke down and finally conceded she'd never convince me after that rant. And she had to take my brother by the hand and leave with him because he initially refused to go, and kept begging her to turn back and make me let him move in. And then I yelled to him that it was a laugh that he called me a mama's boy before. Because he'd become exactly that. And this was just like the time he tried to get our mother to make me trade vehicles with him because he felt ashamed to be driving a minivan. He yanked away from mom, then told me to go fuck myself and the horse I rode in on. I laughed and pointed out I didn't ride in on anything, because I was already home. But his rattlecan horse was waiting for him in the driveway. He flipped his lid again, and looked like his head was going to explode. But mom got in front of him, and told him to just go. Then he drove off in his rattlecan Silverado without her. He'd driven her there. And then I had to take her home.
While taking her home, I made things very clear with my mother over why I could never trust my brother again. And his life was not my burden to bear. And then told her how little my brother was offering for rent anyway. Which he'd conveniently not told her. Then I later rented that same room to one of my best friends for $600 a month, and he pays for utilities. The other two rooms are my bedroom and a home office. There's an extra room in the separate garage too. So my mother tried to make me let my brother live in the garage instead. There's enough room in it's storage room for a bedroom. Again I said fuck no. And that's since been turned into another friend's rented room with a bit of a plywood remodel. Yeah, I kinda rented both the spare bedroom and garage room out to friends out of spite. But I wasn't letting my brother live with me in any capacity!
My brother later ended up having a complete meltdown in front of our parents over how he's the older brother. He should be the one who owns a house first. He's supposed to be successful, and I'm supposed to be the big loser in his shadow. Our dad poked him with his cane and told him that's not how life works, and they had a big argument. They told him to get out and not come back until he's cooled off and learned that he's just being a pointlessly jealous asshole.
The next part I post, my brother did the dumbest thing of all.
Edit: I came home late to over 600 comments, and still more pouring in. Far too many for me to answer. So I'll clear some things up here. Yes, I am no contact with my brother. And he's NC with the rest of the family as well. I do have cameras inside and outside my home. And a dash cam too. My brother knows this, and has stayed the fuck away since he left town. I'm told I'm an asshole too. Not arguing that, because it's true. I'm not exactly the nicest guy. But have someone like my brother in your life, and see how peachy you turn out.
Some have mentioned to having siblings just like my brother. Sadly I know very well people like him are increasingly common these days. My dad said a number of times that my brother probably would have ended up dead in an alley if he lived here 50 years ago with the way he behaves. As for our ages. I'm 30, and my brother is 32. I have not given my parents a spare key to my house. One is with a friend, and another is very cleverly hidden.
My house is a manufactured home. But it's not in a trailer park, and has been significantly modified with new siding and a new roof, and has a separate garage building. The previous owner was a former general contractor, and he loved to build and repair. And yes, I do have good insurance.
I keep seeing comments about a clock radio. Pardon me for not getting the reference. But I do own a digital alarm clock that has a built in CD player. Currently plays Tina Turner's Proud Mary to wake me up.
My brother and I were raised pretty evenly. He was always a jerk. But went full asshole after moving out. But our mother didn't favor him. She chewed him out plenty. And she didn't normally side with his stupidity. She just wanted him to live in a better place than in a camper next to a house filled with potheads. Addition: My brother willingly moved into that camper. He was renting half a room in that house of potheads. Then convinced the landlord to let him live in his camper on the property for the same price instead. And he bragged about his camper a lot. Which he has a full gaming center in, complete with PlayStation. He only wanted to invade my house to piss me off and make his cost of living even lower. He also doesn't like camping nearly as much as me. He mainly liked just pissing me off by following me. He loved to make me miserable. In fact, he felt entitled to make me miserable. That's the kind of person he is.
Do I have a restraining order against my brother? Not really. Just didn't bother. Because even if I did, it'd only be for like a year. And my brother wouldn't let something like that stop him if he was truly determined anyway.
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My entitled brother lost his mind and attacked me, his ex, and our father. That got him disowned by the family. But not before I beat the crap out of him May 8, 2024
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Warning: Contains domestic violence, small town drama, and idiocy. Read at own risk.
My brother's major downhill spiral started with jealousy over my house, but only got worse thanks to this next part. He started smoking pot more heavily and drinking harder. And that was making him more aggressive and violent. He got in a brawl outside of a bar for reasons I still don't know. But he got his ass handed to him on a platter. He eventually found out his ex has been seeing someone else. And ironically that someone is another friend of mine. Which was news to me. But it's not like he wasn't around my brother's ex a fair bit. They're both fairly social people, and were also friends for years. Once the secret was out, he confessed to me it wasn't planned. But my brother's ex Sara (Fake name) and my friend just clicked one day about a year ago. This sorta thing can only happen in a town like ours. I admit, Sara is very beautiful. But I've always seen her as a big sister figure ever since she started dating my brother in high school. So I never thought of getting with her myself. She kept her new boyfriend a secret for some time. I didn't even know until someone else spilled the beans. And the word traveled. When my brother found out, that was the last he could mentally take.
My brother was hoping for years that Sara would take him back. But no such luck there. When he lost his mind over the fact my friend was dating Sara, he started hunting for the poor guy. My friend is not a fighter, and a self described beanpole. So that's what I'll call him. Sara seems to like Beanpole because he's everything my brother is not. He isn't really a brave person. And came to me when he found out my brother was looking for him. He has a rather distinctively painted car. So it's easy to spot. My brother caught wind Beanpole was at my place, and came roaring his truck down the street.
When my brother showed up to my house, he started screaming and banging on my door because he wanted to kick Beanpole's ass. And when I refused to let him in, he attacked me. We had a redneck brawl right there in my front lawn. I want to say I won. But the fight only stopped when one of my friend/tenants yelled he was gonna call the cops. I sucker-punched my brother while he was distracted, and told him to never come back to my house again. And if he ever tried to hurt Beanpole again, I'd make sure he'd up in the hospital with two broken legs. This was backed by the other friends/tenants I had there. My brother is an idiot. But even he knew that pissing off my entire friend group was not a good idea. So he picked himself up off the ground and started leaving. But he clearly looked like he wanted to do something to my truck because he stopped and just stood there staring at it with his hands in his pockets, like he was debating scratching the paint with his keys. I yelled at him that I have CCTV. But then he turned around, pulled his pants part way down, and started rubbing his ass directly onto my truck's passenger side door. Then he forced out a nasty fart and said he sharted a little, and laughed like a nutbar when he took off. I immediately got the hose. I'm just glad I didn't leave windows open or doors unlocked. Otherwise he'd have done far worse. And the smell of what he did was pretty much what you'd think.
Everyone already knew Sara was never going to take him back. She avoided dating for years because my brother is so unhinged that she knew he'd do something like this. That's why she and her new boyfriend kept it secret. I went to ice my bruises and call Sara. But my brother was already calling and texting her. Over and over again, he wouldn't stop. He was begging she break up with her boyfriend and take him back. He even said he wanted to marry her and move to the northwest. Not sure why he specified that part of the US. Maybe because we live in the southeast. But she flatly told him no, never again, not happening even if hell froze over. He cried that it wasn't fair, because she was his first love (she wasn't), and they have a daughter together. Then he started sending her flowers, love letters and gifts. She sent them all back. Then she announced online that she and Beanpole had been dating for some time, and recently made plans to eventually move in together. That's when my brother really went off the deep end.
A few hours after he saw that post, my brother got wasted and then barged into Sara's parents' house by body ramming the back door. He actually cut his face because the door had a glass window. But he was so drunk that he didn't notice he was bleeding. Sara understandably freaked out, and my brother grabbed and tried to force her to kiss him. She pushed him away and he hit her for refusing him. He slapped her and threw her to the floor really hard like an angry pimp wanting his money. And his daughter saw it all and started screaming at the top of her lungs. Sara screamed too, and my brother fled. Police were called, and Sara was taken to the hospital. My brother threw her down so hard that she had a dislocated shoulder. My brother was found by police at his camper, where he was even more drunk than before, and half his face was covered in blood. He had to be taken to the hospital, where he got stitches. Then taken to jail. He got charged with trespassing, breaking and entering, and assault. (Surprisingly not DUI too, as he'd actually walked there) When our parents and I found out, well the family finally couldn't take it anymore, and went into an uproar. Our parents had it out with my brother after he bailed himself out from jail, and then he tried to fight our dad when they argued. And no surprise, he tried to blame everything on me.
My brother actually said I let Beanpole steal his woman. But couldn't really explain how. He also refused to believe I did not know until recently. Then he said that Sara was supposed to be his. Dad not only disagreed, but told my brother that he was a fucking disgrace, and that was an absolutely disgusting way to talk about Sara. She's not his property. And then my brother shoved dad as hard as he could. Dad got knocked to the floor, and my brother started kicking him. Dad isn't a small man. But he's old with a bad back and a bad knee. And needs a cane just to get around. Since we knew my brother would only have gotten crazier if he saw me, I was hiding in another room with the door cracked and listening in. I knew he might do something crazy. So I insisted on secretly being in the house when he was confronted. And I'm glad I was, because I came to dad's defense before my brother could do too much damage. I knew we were roughly even in a fight. So I ambushed and hit him in the back with a rubber mallet, and then beat the shit out of him. No police were called that time. I attacked him in defense of our dad. So he probably would have been screwed if he tried to get me charged anyway. And then he'd have gone right back to jail. Someone also once asked me if I enjoyed beating up my brother that day. I did not. I was just in an adrenaline fueled rage protecting my dad. But all things considered, I could have done far worse to my brother with that rubber mallet, as he only really got bruises. My dad gave hm a good smack in the face with his cane too though. But it's just hollow aluminum. Not exactly a damage dealer.
Our parents (mainly my dad) disowned my brother as I threw him out the door. And he spent some time crying on the porch and saying he was sorry and didn't mean it, then switched to saying we could all regret this, and we could go fuck ourselves before finally leaving. My mother spent hours crying. She'd stuck up for him before, and this was how he repaid her. My brother managed to avoid real prison time, or a trial for attacking Sara by taking a guilty plea deal. He signed away custody of his daughter. And Sara got a restraining order against him. My brother got a fine, somehow only a couple months in county jail, probation, has to abstain from alcohol for six months, and he had to pay for the property damage. Sara's dad already put in a new door, and billed my brother for it. My brother also understandably lost his job due to the situation.
Our mother secretly kept in contact with my brother, and agreed to look after my brother's truck and camper while he was serving his two month sentence. And she didn't ok it with dad first. He was pretty pissed at her for going behind his back. But she reasoned that it would be the last thing they ever did for him, because she didn't want my brother to have no place to go after getting out of the clink. And even she made it clear it was the last of her good will towards him too. Once my brother got out of jail, mom drove his truck and camper to a store to meet him, and gave him back the keys. She told me there was barely a word of thanks from him. Mostly just grunts when she tried to get him to talk to her. Dad said he still looked like an ungrateful sod. After that my brother lived wherever he could park his camper for a while until one of his remaining friends somehow got him a new job as a welder in another town 40-ish miles away that he was having to commute to with his camper for a while. But he was back every weekend. Apparently he only got the job by agreeing to work for less than what the job would normally pay. So he could move there permanently as soon as he got the ok from his probation officer. Which said officer didn't make easy I heard. I don't know the red tape of it. But he managed to pull it off. He can't leave the state. But he could still move to another county it seems. He's probably renting a space in a trailer park right now or something. And maybe he's back to doing his side hustle of hauling trash for people.
Before leaving town, my brother showed up outside my house to give me the double middle finger and dance around like a monkey while cursing at me in the street when he knew I was watching from the window. I guess it was his stupid way of trying to get in a last laugh without breaking the law or something. But then I got an idea. I've heard plenty of people say to kill with kindness. So I tried it in my own way. I grabbed an unopened bottle of my favorite honey whisky from the pantry because I know my brother really loves that stuff too. Then I went outside and walked right up to him, and shoved the bottle into his hands. I think it was the last thing he expected me to do in the moment. And I know he'd NEVER willingly break a bottle of good booze. Especially when it's free. Then I told him to have a drink on me to start his new life. I could barely keep myself from laughing when I turned to walk away. When I looked at my CCTV footage later, he actually stood there looking really glum while just staring at the bottle, and then moped back to his truck.
And then he was gone. Off to start his new life as a career welder. My brother is a childish, narcissistic, misogynistic, asshole to an extreme degree. But he's actually damn good at welding. Both with steel and aluminum. Mostly self-taught too. It's practically his only real talent. He's even done basic forging and auto body work. I've seen him do shit with scrap metal I wish I could. But that's the only real compliment I can still say about him. Maybe he'll make a decent new life and career for himself doing metal work elsewhere. He's better off away from us, just like we're better off away from him. He deleted all his social media, and I assume blocked us on everything. Not that we'd bother to contact him. One of his few remaining pothead friends in town told me my brother wants to legally change his name when his probation ends. Knowing him, he'll likely do it.
Things are much more peaceful and far less dramatic without my entitled leech of a brother here. Some part of me missed him for a while. But he's just a terrible person. And the only one who's still missing him, is our mother. She's still kinda broken up about it. But dad has been unwavering that they did the right thing by disowning him. He made his own bed. Now he's lying in it. I doubt my brother will come back any time soon. And if he does, he will not be welcome.
Edit: Got home and cracked open a bag of salt & pepper pork rinds, and was half expecting hundreds of comments like last time. I'm thankful it wasn't. Still, I'm also thankful to everyone who gave their support. To answer some questions I got in comments and DMS. I've got cameras inside and outside my house. Beanpole and Sara are still dating. But they've put off moving in together for now. My niece is doing good. But says she has no daddy anymore. My brother was barely a father to her anyway. Yes I know it was a bit much giving a known alcoholic a bottle of booze. And good booze at that. But I knew he wouldn't be able to drink it for months anyway. Which is why I was trying so hard to hold back laughter when I gave it to him. Besides, he's just gonna drink like a fish on his own dime when his court ordered sober time runs out.
I'm hoping this is the last post about current antics involving my brother. Maybe I'll tell other past stories about him. Or the story of my cheating ex. Still couldn't bring myself to post that. I typed it out and everything. But I guess it still ate at me because I really liked that woman. And yeah, this situation with my brother eats at me too. But he's toxic. And I'm better off without him in my life anymore.
​
Related Posts:
My entitled brother wanted my cot and tent for the camping trip
The time my brother stayed over and stole all the alcohol from my fridge
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THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

Gold Rush rewatch thoughts, observations, and questions. I currently have finished rewatching the first two seasons.
I’m a long time lurker but this is my first post. So let me apologize in advance for any formatting issues or any other posting errors. This is going to be long.
Dorsey: He seemed like a fish out of water. Which is apparently exactly what he was, a man with no manual labor experience. He made mistakes, no doubt about it. Yet he also seems like the whipping boy, everything was his fault.
I mean Dorsey says something about a kid leaving food out. The result: Todd jumps him. Let’s all forget about the bear that was just in camp because of that food.
They also should have given him more time to figure out the gold table. It’s new tech to all of them but Jack wants to blow it up from the start. I’m guessing Jack hated it because if Dorsey was doing the clean up Jack wouldn’t be able to skim gold off the top.
And now a question. If they were all such great friends why was Dorsey forced to live in a tent or in the back of a truck? I mean give the man a space on the floor of a campeRV.
Harness: I’m going to say this at the beginning. Harness’s little honeymoon in season 2 shouldn’t have happened. That being said he’s the man busting his ass in both seasons to get Todd’s trash equipment running.
S1, Harness is doing massive amounts of welding and rebuilding alone in extreme pain while out of his pain meds. Of course I doubt it happened that way. I’ve been clean for four years after becoming addicted following my own back issues. I know what withdrawal is like, there’s no way Harness did that work as he was suffering withdrawal.
In S2 Jack announces he’s a morphine addict himself. Which leads me to believe he was sharing with Harness on the down low. What wouldn’t Jack do for his gold hunger. He shares and Harness fixes the wash plant. After all, no guts no glory.
S2, Harness is the whipping boy. He’s blamed by everybody for not reaching the 100oz goal. It’s all his fault. He only fixed little blue. The wash plant that Todd didn’t even have until weeks into the season. They didn’t have a claim for weeks & didn’t start mining until half way through the season yet it’s Harness’s fault the goal was missed.
Okay Harness and the other’s did trash the gold room. Yet I can’t help but think Thurber was so pissed about all the others wanting to help with the final cleanup was because it meant he and Jack couldn’t skim off the top.
Fred: Okay he’s not a people person. But he was the man with the experience and the man sent in by the claim owner. The whole crew should have shut up, swallowed their pride, and followed Fred’s suggestions. Maybe then their S1 gold take wouldn’t have been so embarrassing.
Fred did nothing wrong taking the porcupine creek claim. He is NOT a claim jumper. Should the original owner Earl have been happy with his royalties on 14.64 ounces of gold? Was it Fred’s fault Todd didn’t make his lease payment during the off season thus losing the claim? Todd didn’t uphold his end of the claim contract and so Earl was legally able to sell.
I’m starting to see a pattern, a Hoffman screwed up but blames someone else. Anybody else seeing the same pattern?
Parker’s Mom: Yes she could have followed through with her threat to shut Parker down in S2. But it would have been incredibly stupid. She knew it and we the audience knew it. She was never going to follow through. Destroy her 17 year old son’s dream and destroy their relationship. Perhaps forever. When Parker turned 18 he would have disappeared to mine, likely going no contact. At least I believe his desire to mine was that strong.
This has gotten away from me, so I’m going to end it. For now, maybe.

[OC Intro: The game is modded to increase basic jobs cost, seasonal events are disabled. Much of the crash details are based on NASA/SP-2008-565 Columbia Crew Survival Investigation Report recommendations especially Chapter 3 "Occupant Protection".]
The ship is without power, and Tightniks can't run the radar much without draining the batteries. He has only a few minutes of APU power left, goes over the best clearing he can find, and radars it. It varies by only a few feet from the aerodynamic glideslope there. He spots it out on the cameras and circles to go after that spot. He's only at two hundred feet now. With one hand on the stick, he uses the other to open the pressure equalization valve on the side hatch, then at one hundred feet, gets it undogged. Depending on how much damage he's going to get, it's less likely to be stuck closed and trap him. The dynamic vacuum this pulls in the cockpit rips most of the survival pack data cards from that rack and scatters them across the landscape. Crap, I'm gonna need those! Refocusing on surviving the next few seconds, he turns on the radar for the final approach, takes a last look around, then straight ahead at his forward camera and PFD, he clicks his HANS and shoulder strap locks in; after that, he can barely move, but that now is better than dying in this crash with a broken neck. He's a decent pilot and brings up the flare gently. Bringing up the alpha on this delta-winged ship, he balloons a little, but keeps the nose going up and restores a zero aerodynamic sink rate just above the highest terrain indicated by the radar altimeter. The ship bumps a little in the ground effect, and he can see the radar altitude cycling irregularly up and down about five feet at a time. Rougher than it looked from higher up! The body flap protecting the dead engines hits first, and the nose comes rapidly down. It hits, the screens go blank, and Tightniks is surrounded by airbags, some lifting his feet from the rudder petals and his hand from the control stick. It's blinding, it's disorienting, it's noisy, and, to his relief, it's long! It takes several seconds before the crashing cockpit stops moving. How many times did he flip over? Did he go sideways and roll? Am I rightside up? Are we really stopped on the ground? The airbags deflate, and he can move his arms. He gets his restraints loose and inspects himself. "Uck!" he says out loud (without the 'f'). No broken bones. His pressure suit can take his blood pressure. 116/81, pulse 112, blood oxygen 99 reads off on his left arm, I'll friggin' take it!
The ship is amazingly intact from what he can tell. He can't get any readings. The systems test meter seems to be working, but can't find any voltages anywhere. The ship seems to be completely dead. Behind him, 10 passenger seats are all surrounded by airbags and the back of the cabin ends in some sort of dirt-and-gravel and there's a bit of daylight seeping in around the edges. He was the only one on board, though, so their deployment was mostly academic (they might have stiffened the structure a little during the crash, but that's probably trivial.) Tightniks gets out of his spacesuit. The air on this planet is actually breathable. He gets the hatch open, steps outside and-
"A green shimmer erupts then disappears, and you hit the ground."
The human emerges from the glowing green mist and hits the ground. Groans. Pushes against that ground, trying to get back up. Where am I? What's my name? I remember nothing. Aren't babies born naked? He's got a dark blue button-down shirt on. A uniform? A shoulder patch. Gets up, looks around. I feel really heavy. I'm not that fat, am I? He picks up a small stone from the ground, this also feels heavier than it should. He rises to his feet and holds it out somewhat (he's unable to fully extend his arm) and lets it go. The stone hits the ground near his feet quickly and with remarkable speed. It's the gravity, it's greater than it is on- ...where am I from? This is- ...not my home planet? "Oooh..."
"Ka?" it says.
What is that? It's cute, at least.
It is not tame. He has no hope of catching it on foot. The creature seems to like the berries. Maybe if I gather some of those into one place and set some kind of trap...
33s: First trap.
I got one! The human lumbers up to the trap and gets the catch open. Do you bite? It doesn't matter much to me; I'm so friggin' screwed.
It doesn't. It looks at the human with a sense of wonder, actually. A blink and tilt of the head. Seems almost to be asking, Is it you? My purpose? My savior? Once out of the trap, which is totally wrecked, he has to make a new one from scratch, it follows him around like a imprinted hatchling bird.
Wiry little fella, you are. You're going to need some bulking up to do anything useful. The- ...'trimp', I guess... The trimp seems just barely able to feed itself. The human lets him into the broken ship's intact cabin, and it curls up comfortably in a passenger seat for a nap.
1m03s: Second trap.
"Apparently the Trimps breed if they're not working. Doesn't look pleasant."
What are they doing?
The trimps appear to be androgynous, and these two have paired off in the back of the ship. They're holding something carefully within a few hours, feeding it berries, grass, and- ...corundum.
Corundum?? Whatever that is, it isn't a baby.
1m35s: Third trap.
Only it IS a baby! The third trimp he trapped immediately joined the other two in raising it. They have a strange diet of food the human has found compatible with his own body, but they also eat rocks! They're careful to crush and sort aluminate minerals from silcate ones and only eat aluminate. Actually, they don't eat aluminate, they're only feeding it to the baby.
2m06s: Fourth trap.
All four are raising the same child, who is just starting to toddle. It seems these fellas have alumina or maybe even aluminum bones. The human takes a nap and wakes to find the first child grown up and they're starting to raise a second child, all five of them.
2m46s: Huts.
The human found a working bit of electronics. He calls it a pad, but maybe it's more like a smartphone. It has plans for two residential structures. The first, the smaller one, he can build right away, but the second one needs something called "drywall", and he has to figure out how to make that before he can build it. Huts and houses, apparently.
3m13s: 10 pop, full, first farmer.
The trimp he trained to farm and make paper took an incredible 50 units of food to get bulked up to do the work, and now it's not participating in rearing the child. But less than an hour after the trimp started farming and pulping, the child was out on its own, and the trimps did not start another. The ten seats on the ship were all full. Well, eleven counting the one up front that the human sleeps in. The pilot starts exploring the area.
3m28s: Battle.
Wait, what are you do-
The hostile roars and charges at the human, but one of his trimps jumps in front of him with a stick and they fight. It started right when the human got far enough away from the ship that the hostile non-trimps away from the ship began to regard him as leaving his own territory. After the trimp defeats the first enemy, it continues after other hostiles.
3m53s: Shield I in Z1c5.
The human is easily able to recover the loot in the territory cleared by the fighting trimp. Then he sees something glinting in the- That can't be! What the heck is that? It's a data card that fits his pad. It quite clearly regards trimp combat. He gets it loaded into his pad and studies it. I can do this, it just takes some wood. He returns to the ship to discover that they had already started on a new child before the fighter had even expired in battle. The human concentrates on his research.
4m38s: Mskel in Z1c11 defeated.
The remains of this one seem rather white and shiny. It's titanium! This enemy had titanium bones! He'll store them away. They'll be useful someday, I'm sure.
5m52s: Dagger I in Z1c20.
Where are these data cards coming from? The human wonders as he loads this one into his pad, It's for a weapon it calls a dagger. He blinks. I don't know what a dagger is. I'll take your word for it, data card. Needs metal. He has gathered some, but ore is plentiful. He can just dig and smelt it whenever he wants. For now, I'll continue researching.
6m18s: Arable in Z1c21.
It's an old cave that trimps like to live in. Why weren't they able to live there before? How could these friendly critters be confined to only the exact spot where THAT thing, he looks back where he came from, not remembering that he piloted the wrecked ship to its current resting place, crashed? This is really strange. I'll let them fill up this cave before advancing further. Wait, what about defenses? The hostiles never try to reclaim territory that they've lost, so he stops worrying about that fairly quickly.
8m22s: First hut is 0.3% first ever AP.
The trimps seem fairly easy to please in terms of living quarters. Two move into his first hut and start raising a child. The human has his tent, uniform, and the heater pilfered from his space suit. Not much of a mud fan.
9m59s: Miners in Z1c30.
Oh, what's on this data card? Sl3niw? Oh, I'm holding the pad upside down. Miners. I can teach trimps how to mine ores and smelt met- 200 units of food? Each job is getting more expensive to train a trimp for. He puts his bee nickels to his eyes and spots another data card probably 10 enemies away. "Sc"? Does that means science? I can teach trimps to do science??
13m57s: Scientists in Z1c40.
Due to the expense of training trimps, the human couldn't afford to build them shields until now, he's got Sh1-3 made for the fighter to capture the science training data card. 14m02s: One head went into that turtlimp shell, that of his fighter, but two came out: his fighter still has his head on, and he managed to get the turtlimp's head off. It rushes off after the deadly penguimp in the next cell. The shields are not doing all that much good, actually, but they're better than nothing. The human picks up and loads the science data card and- Holy runny sugar-free fudge crap! 1000 food units, but it'll endow them with the ability to speak. Good. I'm getting bored with no one to talk to.
14m28s: Bloodlust purchased and AutoFight enabled (that delay after getting it is an effect of jacking up the job cost.)
As the human buries this expired little trimp warrior, he comes to the sobering realization that he has more trimp graves in his growing trimp colony than he does live trimps. And yet they seem more hopeful now than before I got to know any of them. They seem to think I'm the solution to all their problems or- Those two look east somberly, then notice that he's watching them and smile back and wave at him. ...one problem that is specific, but very, very huge for them. [The only reason I say 'east' is because that's right on a map, and the game advances right across a row, then up. I might say 'northeast' on occasion for that reason.]
20m47s: Z1c73, Miners taken.
Are you my new mining foreman? The trimp who took to the mining training has dark brown fur that lays flat on its head. It's unusual in not having any bits that stick out from its head, ahoge or whatever. This one is relatively quiet, and while it has assimilated the mining and smelting knowledge, it needs to bulk up to do any mining. Smelting is relatively easy, and getting a strong natural draft going in a furnace is almost trivial with the increased gravity. This trimp builds furnaces like nothing. And likes to nap in holes it digs right on the spot; it's weird that way. [Puchim@s Yukipo, and furnaces are not explicit in Trimps.]
21m58s: Farming in Z1c80.
The resourcing "books" are not data cards but paper scrolls, apparently lost to the trimps. It seems that they were civilized in the recent past and some calamity swept over the planet to reduce them to this. Did I have something to do with it? Amnesia sucks harder than a Dyson- ...what's a Dyson? Whatever, it sucks. This disaster happening just before I crash in the only spot with trimps still alive would be a seriously crazy coincidence! Something is really, really wrong about all this. [The author has not sought or received product placement permission or fee from Dyson Technology Ltd. or any resellers of their stuff, just they literally suck balls and made my favorite vacuum cleaner.]
23m50s: Builder in Z1c90.
They've rescued an, I dunno, gelding trimp? It just started to build a shed around the piled lumber I left to build one. It's really slow compared to me, and just banged its thumb, but it is super cute with that long reddish head fur. That particular trimp is also fascinated with pink ribbons and likes to decorate its head fur with them. Because of its inherent inability to participate in rearing children, it isn't counted in the population. [Puchim@s Io, builder on the basis of Iori seen building in 1x10.]
26m02s: Zone 2, 44 pop, 5.5s RC with Z0/1.
It's some sort of tactical manual - tactical coordination. Coordination! He's starting to sort out some trimpese on the research he has done so far. It needs a lot of metal, so they won't be able to implement it for some time. Hopefully, they're still good one at a time, but these enemies seem to be getting bigger as we go along. Uh oh!
27m33s: Gym in Z2c5.
It's some sort of training dojo or sporting arena. The human examines the ruins, I think I can back-engineer drawings for this, get one built, and see what happens.
29m02s: 1g, 47 pop, 10.8s RC with Z1/2.
The two fighting trimps now with their gym and coordination are dodging and blocking enthusiastically, and making much faster ground against the bad guys then a little while ago when it was just one trimp fighting at a time and unable to avoid the enemy hitting back.
40m46s: Fresh turkimp in Z2c74, 63 pop, 7.9s RC, Sh1-10, Da1-5, Bo1-3, Ma1-3, Hm1-3, 6g.
Oh, wow, the laborers seem really hot after this turkimp. He cooks it up and tries a slice. It's really awesome! I have to work alongside his laboring trimps to share it, but I'm getting used to the gravity now. That scroll we found back in Z2c10 really helped. Trimps' techniques and appliances for handicapped individuals, and I'm really handicapped in this higher gravity. He joins the woodcutters with the turkimp; they're the most numerous resource laborer right now, building more gyms, enough that the block/dodge ability of the fighting trimps is almost caught up to the enemy's ability to cause damage.
43m15s: Zone 3, 63 pop, 7.9s RC with Z1/2.
I'm neglecting my science and trimp scientists are really expensive. Curiously, that grey-haired one can't speak all that well, only says "Tai" and "Shijou", but it can write and draw like nobody's business. It's the only scientist so far. [Puchim@s Takanya: Online references probably still claim that she can utter the first two syllables of any word, but she can actually utter only the first two kana syllables of someone's name, most often the given name of basis human Takane Shijou, who also has that habit. (All the utterances of the puchidoru are based on the speech foibles of their basis humans except maybe Piyopiyo, where I haven't seen anything match up so far.)]
47m32s: Finally, we can make drywall and houses. 59m30s: Z3c77, 94 pop, 7.8s RC.
Oh, those poor things are really struggling up at the front. These trimps are enthusiastic and know no fear, but I still feel like telling them to stop for a while. I don't have the heart to keep them from trying while they're still doing some damage.
1h05m24s: Zone 4, 107 pop, 9.3s RC with Z3/4. 1h15m26s: Zone 5, 120 pop, 8.2s RC with Z3/4.
"What is that?" the human asks. He has three scientists. His first does all the writing, but the other two can actually speak. One of them hops up on a rock spire beside the human to reach his eye level.
At the next ridge line, over the lowest and most passable gap in the terrain, this really mean looking hovering sausage monster.
"I dunno," the scientist trimp shrugs, "But it's making me hungry. Looks like a perfectly cooked frankfurter from here." [John Morell's dubious dirigibles.]
"Oh, yeah," the human nods, "that's a blimp."
"A blimp?" the trimp tilts its head quizzically at the human, "How could you know?"
"I wish I could tell you, little buddy," the human extends his arm braces to descend the pass on the side of the zone boundary in the boss enemy's direction, then grunts, "Let's go kill it."
1h16m11s: Z1c9, 120 pop, 10.3s RC with Z4/5. 1h33m34s: Zone 6, 151 pop, 7.4s RC with Z4/5.
1h33m54s: TP in Z1c3.
"What's this?" the human asks, having picked up the little square document with the curling corners.
"Oh," the hungry scientist looks at it, "It's a garden path, follow me."
"You want to lead me down the garden path?" the human says.
"Yeah," the scientist says.
"Are you kidding?" the human asks.
"No," says the other scientist, "We don't get human humor. Listen, these fighters can't go, let them wear themselves out here, then we'll take the next group through this garden."
"Okay," the human nods, watching two more trimps join the fray as he issues the Z5 coordination orders, "they're doing pretty well after all that block training research we just wrapped up." [That's a common artifact, even in normal games, Z5 Traintacular combines with many gyms, enough population to add several trainers, affording Blockmaster, which is expensive on a run zero, plus a break on Tion Z5, a 40% all-stat increase. I don't think Zach designed it into the game on purpose, it just worked out this way.]
1h34m07s: 151 pop, 10.5s RC with Z5/7. 1h37m44s: Drop from Z6c39, TP for 3.
"Now we have these access map frags we can use to route through the old trimpopoli," the scientist explains, "Atlimpis for food, Morimpa for gems, Everimp for metal, and Impazon for wood."
"What about the garden?" the human asks.
"Well, we got lucky with Tricky Paradise," the scientist says, "but you can randomize the route and maybe get lucky. What's with that look?"
"Somehow, I'm remembering 'frag' as something that blew up with deadly pieces," the human says. [Different video games - ones with better graphics and worse gameplay Ｏ(>▽<)Ｏ]
1h39m59s: Blues back up to the top on series I...
"Tai, Tai!" the first ever trimp scientist stops the human just before he upgrades the mace and dagger to Mk.6 and Mk. 8 respectively. It has a note for him.
"Why do you keep calling me that?" the human asks, "Do you think that's my name?"
"Shijou, Shijou," it nods as though to indicate, I KNOW it is. Then it proffers its note again. The human takes it and reads, "Don't upgrade the first row equipment right now."
"Why not?" the human asks.
"Shijou," it points at the end of the mapped route, where there's a scroll sticking out of the thistles.
2h24m07s: Zone 8, 224 pop, 12.2s RC with Z7/12.
"Your settlement is getting crowded, there's Trimps in the streets, and you're taking heat. You feel a sudden strong desire to create a map, though you're not quite sure how that would help."
2h49m10s: Zone 9, 357 pop, 9.5s RC with Z8/15.
"You can't shake the feeling that you've been here before. Déjà-vu?"
The trimps really seem to like the new high capacity mansions, and the village has rapidly expanded since they started building them.
"There's something familiar about this," the human says.
"Tai," the grey one that writes clings to his arm and shows him a note that says, "Don't give up now."
"We must persist," says the yellow one has found a foothold it can grab onto and grabs the human's shoulder gently, "If you give up to early, we'll never solve this. You'll be stuck here forever."
The human puts his hand over the trimp's paw on his shoulders, then looks at him, "I can die, too."
"No, you can't," the trimp says quietly, "Please don't test that, tall one."
"Death is just another path..." he remembers.
"Gan," the grey one squeaks. [That's the first two kana syllables of "Gandalf"]
"...one that we all must take," the human continues, "The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it-"
"A green mist," the yellow trimp interrupts, "flash of fire, we're all gone and our progress forgotten. The wandering stars return to that day, and you again crash that ship- ...a little better every time."
"Wait," the human looks around, "have I been here before?"
"I-" the yellow trimp tries in futility to share what little it knows, "...or... somebody got just a little coolant into the-"
"Into the what?"
"This side up," the grey one's note says.
"Into the that," the yellow one points at the note, "It really helped. You- ...I don't think we've ever had mansions before."
Well, of course they didn't have mansions before. That was one of my ship's data cards. How did it get way out here? Will anything start to make sense?
3h02m13s: Zone 10, 387 pop, 8.7s RC with Z8/15; '28s: 11.1s RC with Z9/19. 3h16m41s: Tough snimp after food book, L10 rand dept from lo-hi-med 118/25/96, 4 Items.
"That's twice our frags led us to gem-rich Moria," the human says.
"Morimpa," the new red trimp scientist corrects, there now being 5 scientists. [There'd be more if there were more turkimp.]
"The question is how do we use all these gems?" the human looks at the village zoning plans again, "I like those mansions and all, but they use hardly any gems compared to, well-" he gestures at the pile of over two dozen thousand gems they've gathered, "-that! And still a lot of wood and lumber."
"I think there's something," the yellow one sighs, "I wish I knew more."
Quite some time later, after they're done looting that route for equipment plans, the trimps are again advancing through Zone 10, and he hears it.
"Tai?" the grey one wonders.
"Where are you going?" the yellow one asks.
"To the farm," the human answers.
"Whatever for?" the red one seems exasperated.
"Shijou?" the grey one sighs, then looks at the fighting front. It's been around long enough to remember, "Shijou!"
"You guys already get so much to eat this doesn't do you much good," the human explains.
3h32m33s: L11 112/35/78 rand sea, dropped from Z11c6 with disband, 4.
"What's wrong?" the red one asks.
The human comforts one of the wounded. Once trimps start into a zone fight, they have to finish before they bleed out. He's really bothered making them desert in front of that second turkimp. "They had a lot left in them," he sighs, rubbing his eyes, "but we can't keep that much dead turkimp at once, we have to leave it alive to use up all of this one."
"Shijou," the grey one presents a note, "We need this map right away, anyway. Don't worry about it, Tightniks."
"Tightniks?" he looks at the grey one, "Is that me? How do you know?"
"Tai," the grey one points at the top of the human's left breast pocket.
"Ah, crud," the yellow one curls its tail around in front of itself as trimps do when they're embarrassed, "Is that really a name tag?"
The human hadn't even noticed it since the green flash blew up his memory as he was stepping out of the ship.
4h04m22s: Block (sub-8h AP is only 0.3%), taking it, 504 pop, 9.8s RC with Z10/24.
It's a pretty thick book about using shields for block instead of hit points. The pad has the stats analysis. Sh3-1 is only giving us 9% of our hit points. Turning to his trimp scientists, he says, "It seems to me to be worth it."
"Let's," the yellow one nods.
"Shijou," it hands him a note, "It scales badly, but that won't matter for a long time. I think there's a way to undo it before it matters."
"Doing it." The human takes out his pad and starts scanning.
4h29m05s: L14 rand moun 137/26/80 is really good for a lo-hi-med. 4h30m52s: Hotels.
"Ah," the yellow one says, "I knew there was something. That must be it."
5h08m09s: L15 lo-hi-hi rand gard 129/28/82 (just got explorers). 5h09m32s: Picked up Wall.
"Dam," the human says.
"Damn?" the red one chuckles.
"No," the human says, "Earthen wall dam; it's a thing that makes artificial lakes by holding rivers back."
"Lakes?" the yellow one asks, "Rivers?"
"Oh yeah," the human says, "This planet doesn't have enough rain for those..."
5h48m21: Leaving Wall from about c70 to fetch Tion Z15.
"You can't resume the map from the same point if you start another," the human reads the grey one's note.
"We can go back to the same point on that route if we hold there and finish Zone 15, right?" Tightniks asks.
"Shijou!" it seems to be saying yes.
"Yes," the yellow one adds, "but we're out of Series III upgrades, and you need a fresh map route to start up Series IV."
"We should be okay," Tightniks says, "but if we have to start it over, I don't see that being a big deal." As they advance through the rest of Zone 15, Tightniks resumes his usual duties at the research desk instead building and running traps like he was before.
The trimps seem hopeful at this decision.
5h49m10s: Fresh turkimp. 5h50m16s: Zone 16, 1071 pop, 13.4s RC with Z15/75, 13m43s turkimp (skel in c1.)
"Z:16 Seriously? Another Blimp so soon?"
"So," Tightniks lowers his bee nickels and looks at the red one, "is it going to be boss fights at the end of every zone from now on?"
"Hmm," the red trimp looks up past the human at some random rock spire or cloud.
"Well?" the human persists.
"Yup," he says.
"Hmph," Tightniks grabs a Sw3-1 of the rack and advances towards the front, "Before then, we have another Mister Titanium."
"What does he like about skeletimps?" the red one asks the grey one as the human marches off.
"Shijou?" the grey one seems just as confused by that.
"He's not going back to the ship, and he's not getting himself killed," the yellow one smiles, "so I'll take it."
5h58m32s...
"Hey guys, go for the mortar!" the human suggests to his 75 fighting trimps in the Wall's boss fight.
"I can tell from your bedtime stories that you're used to the artillery in that other place," the yellow one gripes, "but fighting works differently here, there's no artillery."
And the human instantly collapses laughing, the scientists a little worried he might have injured himself in the planet's severe gravity. But he's okay, at least physically, "Mortar is the stuff between the bricks, fellas. That's is a brickimp, right?"
5h59m18s: Wall, 1076 pop, 13.3s RC, 1% AP for sub-8h finish, first L16 roll good 156/35/84 moun, 10 for the metal.
Beyond the Wall was a more edenic section of the trimpolis ruins, doubling the production of the lumberjacks. The trimps are actually really happy with the mode of all of the laborers moving between the three big jobs, along with the turkimp, except for the foremen specialized at leading the job. It isn't enough to boost their productivity, but the human goes to them with trays of sandwiches.
6h06m52s: 50 map run 0.3% AP...
6h19m13s: Zone 17, 1141 pop, 16.0s RC with Z16/94, no turkimp.
"Z:17 You climb a large cliff and look out over the new Zone. Red dirt, scorched ground, and devastation. Is that a Dragimp flying around out there?!"
"Hmm," the human surveys the new zone with his bee nickels, "Looks like crap. Any ideas?"
"You're the idea man," the yellow one groans.
"Set the map flag," he puts his bee nickels away, "We'll run a depth for practice and to load up on gems for more hotels."
"Righto," the red one gets to work.
6h44m34s: First DCP. (Draglimp Care Package; I refuse to call it a tribute.)
"Oh," the human says, "It's tame now, so it brings back gems in exchange for food?" He looks at his gaping scientists, "That's what it looks like, huh? Guys? Yo!"
"Tai..." the grey one sighs.
Draglimp, the dragimp imprinted on Tightniks, lands beside the human, drops some gems at his feet, and accepts some scratching behind its horns before diving into the food bowl.
"You tamed a dragimp???" Grey's note says.
"Well," the yellow one huffs, "I guess that happened."
8h18m53s: L20 depth of 154/27/79.
"Mapping up here?" the red one half closes one eye and tilts his head.
"Yeah," the human says while fitting together the depth map fragments, "With the coordination book not right at the end, we have an extra mark of coordination to take advantage of. Let's take our housing up to 2000 or so, shall we?"
"Okay," the yellow one says from a pile of logs, "What's all the wood for?" They had been collecting it for days now.
"The series upgrades follow a rather specific pattern," Tightniks explains, "Just on the other side of this blimp is Zone 21, where we should be able to find the Shield series V, right?"
"Shijou!" the grey one nods.
8h56m17s: 1% AP for 100 map runs, leaving it, 1751 pop, 24.8s RC with Z20/232. 8h56m54s: Zone 21...
"Ooooookay," Tightniks growls, "There is something off about this thing."
"Shijou?" the grey one looks at the yellow one with concern about their human starship pilot friend.
The human stoops, picks up the little green gem on the ridge between Zone 20 and 21, looks at it, huffs, and asks, "Any idea where this comes from?"
"Err..." the red one seems hesitant to say, "I think you made it."
"Really?" the human huffs, "How could that be?" Then he tosses it at Red, "See if anything reacts to it. It might be radioactive, so we should take turns to minimize exposure."
"Really?" Red's holding it now, "What makes you say that?"
"Because I'm pissed off for no reason I can figure out," the human says, "I think it's coming from that."
"Frags," the red one says quickly, "I think it's arranging a route. You're good with maps," it tosses the gem to the grey scientist.
"Shijou," the grey one says hopefully, and has a map drawn within a few minutes. [Whether it looks like the one in Puchim@s 1x61 is anyone's guess. That one annoyed me as well as Chihya.]
9h02m37s: L21 moun first roll was a decent 160/26/84. 9h21m00s: Starting run 5 of that map...
Tightniks had taken his anger out on some food and wood to build about 8000 traps. Now he's leaning against a rock spire in his increasingly tattered uniform. A nap begins, perhaps unintentionally.
Wild trimps are examining the pile, finding it unwelcoming, and also finding no place in the town, just mill about. It looks like they want to help.
"Ku?" it's a blue trimp, probably a farmer waiting for stuff to grow, climbs up on the rock spire the human is leaning against, starts patting him on the head, "Ku. Ku ku." [Puchim@s Chihya.]
9h23m09s: Still working that lap...
Tightniks wakes up from that nap, and the grey one is standing there. "Shijou," it says with a note of concern, although not much of one. The note it holds says, "It wasn't me."
"Oh, what wasn't you, buddy?" He stretches out a bit, feeling somewhat refreshed. It feels like somebody washed his face and hair while he was sleeping.
The grey one is also holding a small mirror, apparently broken off from a larger mirror and with the sharp edges filed down to make the edges safe.
The human takes it from the grey trimp and holds it in front of his face to discover that somebody has bound up all his hair into about twenty little pigtails. He touches them with his other hand to confirm. "Eh, whatever." He hands the mirror back and goes back to sleep. [Puchim@s Koamimami.]
9h30m08s: The following run...
"He's not throwing stuff every which way yet," the yellow one whispers to the red one, watching the human snoozing with his pad on his knee.
"You remember that, too?" the red one asks.
"'Remember'?" the yellow one turns to face the red one, "I s'pose that's better than imagining it."
"I remember it, too," the grey one says via a playing card sized note.
"If we're stuck in a time loop," the yellow one sighs, "maybe this cycle will be different."
"Tai..." the grey one admires him for a moment. Then thumbs in the direction of the mountain, "Heh, Shijou!" it laughs.
9h35m58s: Run 8, c9 of that map.
The scientists nap and take notes, and meditate and take notes, and draw stuff. The grey one often storyboards for the other nine because it's the best at drawing stuff. They have come up with a list, and most probably "order" (they're debating whether their ranking means "order" (sequence of things happening over the various loops) or "frequency" (what proportion of previous loops they have happened in). But they've come up with this, from first (or perhaps most often) to most recent (or perhaps least often):
- The ship crashes (they're pretty sure that happens every loop) - The human builds huts - The human teaches some of his trimps to speak and do science - The human builds houses - The human makes maps - The human builds mansions - The human blows up and gets himself killed somewhere around Z17 to Z21, often on a dragimp - The human only recently/occasionally builds hotels - The human only recently/rarely tamed a dragimp - The human only recently/rarely maps the Dimension of Anger
They're all agreed that that they have never finished the Dimension of Anger. What they are not all agreed on is that they've never done this conference to figure out whether they're in a time loop or what that might mean. [See also Star Trek: The Next Generation episode "Cause and Effect" ...which was sort of a time loop but they weren't going back in time. It's very interesting, but its meta makes no sense - no one ever went looking for the Bozeman in 80 years? No one who went looking for the Bozeman also got stuck? No one noticed the passage of time outside the little area of space where the not-quite-a-time-loop was happening? Errr... sci-fi writers, don't be half-assed about your time loops, lmao! Be like Harold Ramis- ...what am I saying?? (That would be Groundhog Day, which grafted a time loop into a romcom; there are no other sci-fi elements. But it was a full-blown time loop and not half-assed like "Cause and Effect".)]
9h54m06s: Dropped from Z21c95...
I think it would be a bad idea to bypass that green area, as much as I'd rather not face it. Both his domesticated trimps, which are breeding up a new group of fighters, and the wild trimps he has decided just now not to open the traps for, stare at him and point in that direction. He shoulders a huge Shield V-3 and grabs an Mace IV-2 as well and announces, "We're doing it." Thus equipped, he marches off into the Dimension of Anger.
10h27m53s: Taking Pi4-2; recently had taken Pa4-2...
The group at the front had expired, and the snimp in DoAc95 glares at the advancing colony of trimps, which had halted only because of it. It refuses to counterattack the vulnerable colony and its human, instead snorting and huffing, waiting for the next bunch of 232 fighting trimps to come in range.
Tightniks runs along the line of traps, releasing the recently tamed trimps, singing a song that he doesn't remember the meaning of, that he doesn't remember was crafted by an ethnically Chinese guy out of an African language, and later mastered by two caucasians over the internet before they ever met in person. "Baba yetu yetu uliye, mbinguni yetu yetu amina..." because it just happened to be stuck in his head. [Because the Doylian author decided on a whim to. Christopher Tin got it into Civilization IV and at the time (2010 July), I made the best video for it on YouTube, which got subsequently blown to shreds when Peter Hollens and Malukah re-recorded the song from scratch in their own voices and instruments in 2014, pity with no English translation, the purpose of my video.]
Noticing the last batch of metal he needs coming out of the furnace, he waves the waiting grey scientist to fire up the forge [to use the term properly and not as the game does], for it was time to wrap up the forging dies for the Spetum IV, Mark 2 pike heads.
"Shijou!" the grey one cheers, setting aside a snack that looks like maybe ramen, and starts jumping up and down on the bellows handle.
It takes a while for the human to chip out the tip in the two halves of the forging die, and then polish it, and then heat it up in the forge, and then quench it, inspect it, and put it into service crafting thousands of new pike heads for the fighting trimps.
But only one second passed on the map frame clock (10h27m54s) four cells behind that snimp, in the case being brooded over by this huge, and if it's honest, rather concerned megablimp.
10h35m45: Portal PB, 45 He, 4.247 He/hr, 1891 pop, 22.7s RC with Z20/232, no turkimp.
The last head of the map's boss monster goes limp as one of the fighting trimps' mace heads bounces of it, and the huge thing settles on its tail, resting on the package that seems to be the prize of this map. And there's a popping sound, and then something mechanical.
Is that a scroll compressor? Tightniks looks at the package. The deflating monster's lifting envelope material drapes over everything underneath it. "Red, Shijou!" he snaps and points, "roll up that side of it. Keep this part from sucking down on the extractor nozzle!"
All ten of the scientists jump in, literally, pushing the gas in the bag towards the compressor. Tightniks as well, rolling up the front.
Until he kicks, and nearly trips over, a smaller package that might be the explanation for the reason why the center of the monster's defense seemed to be a little away from the big package he could see. It's in the right place, he realizes. He gets it uncovered and reads stenciled-and-sprayed block letters on it:
"DT TIME PORTAL / THIS SIDE DOWN"
Perhaps the Dimension of Anger is so named because of the rage suddenly rising up in Tightniks' throat. It isn't so much as the free-floating aggression suddenly has an answer, there is definitely a fresh batch of rage and anger as he grips the nearest Mace IV, Mark 3 with both hands and gets it over his shoulder, its target obviously this object, anger at the realization he screams at the top of his lungs, "We are stuck in a mutha FAH-king time loop!!" His swing begins. [Tightniks almost never cusses, unlike Snugniks.]

Just "thought" I completed my manual swap. Original post here: https://www.reddit.com/Saturn_Cars/comments/1bib37i/1995_sc2_manual_swap/
We install everything. And the car has really hard time starting. Switched one of the spark plug wires I thought I might have installed in the wrong order, it was barely able to start after that. It would fire up right away before the swap. At idle its running heavy. We thought the clutch might not be engaging. And tried re-bleeding the cylinder system. On the slave side the rod is able to come completely off, is it broken? I don't know what the problem is we didn't touch the engine other than the spark plug wires.
After jacking it up The passenger side wheel would jolt not spin in gear the driver side looked fine.
4 days of work for this.... Any helpful advice appreciated.

A little bit of background, I just retired from the Air Force and I worked in Quality Assurance and managed safety programs since around 2014. The Air Force uses OSHA guidance but has a whole other set of guidelines as well. Now I am on the civilian side and I picked up a job at Walmart for “fun” money while I wait until my son graduates and we can relocate. Anyways, I work in the stocking department where we unload loose cargo stacked to the top of the semi trailer, unload stuff off conveyor belts, and move full pallets around with pallet jacks (both powered and unpowered). Now to the question, Walmart does not require any type of safety shoes at all, they just say closed toe. How could this not violate OSHA requirements? Just today people were moving pallets of drinks stacked at least 6.5 feet tall with a manual pallet jack through the store with regular tennis shoes on. After my first day in stocking I switched out to my composite toe boots because I didn’t feel safe but I don’t feel safe for my coworkers either and most of them are 18 to early 20’s and I would hate to see one of them get hurt and it effect the rest of their life. Thanks for any insight.

Im heading off to college and currently looking for my first car. Im a big fan of those types of cars that look like boxes on wheels (Suzuki Jimmy, Jeep Wrangler, Ford Bronco, VW Golf/GTI). I am comfortable driving both manual and automatic.
I like to think I know a decent amount about cars, but if I'm being honest with myself I really know jack shit. I would love to just go out there and splash the cash on a car that looks cool but that would probably be pretty stupid.
Im hoping to just get some general advice about maybe what cars to look for and what things to look for when getting a used car. Also, where is the best place to purchase a used car? Is Facebook Marketplace and Craigslist pretty reliable?

There's something up here with me.
Since I returned to the world of the living, I've been doing my best to become an active member of society again and to try and earn my ticket to heaven in the meantime.
Even though I can't afford this luxury right now, I always donate a portion of my salary to charity, do volunteer work on weekends, and help out at a community kitchen on Thursdays after work.
All of this is to avoid going back there.
But I don't know how well this can work, nor do I know if by gaining this new life, I also received a new chance.
There's something I haven't told you.
If none of this makes sense to you, it´s good to take a look at my first post.
If you missed the last update, I recommend reading it before continuing.
The truth is that my torment hasn't completely stopped. Since I returned from the dead, my nights are filled with agony and terror.
The nightmares are terrible, but when I wake up shrouded in the darkness of my room, I can sometimes discern things in the shadows.
Arachnid-like forms with dozens of eyes and mouths that sing profanities.
Throughout the day, I can still see them, in the corner of my eye almost like a permanent silhouette, a reminder that they're watching me, just waiting for my last breath to take me back via the VIP express lane.
I think Samael didn't like being deceived one bit.
Now, however, it's not the time to recount my escape. There are still many dangers I've yet to warn you about.
And if after your death you find yourselves wandering through the infernal circles, surely at some point you'll come across the Silver City.
The last vestige of community in hell.
Gehenna is like a living structure, a fabric composed of buildings, streets, and alleys that stretches vertically through the 9 circles that compose the abyss.
When I died, I arose just like many others in Lust, the third circle of Hell, contrary to what Alighieri claimed.
The real order of the circles would be: Limbo, Greed, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Heresy, Violence, Treachery, and finally, Pride.
The goal of the Collectors was set like a jewel in the center of Limbo.
It's funny, in Dante's work, the city is portrayed as a paradise away from heaven for those with good hearts who never accepted Jesus into their lives. Their only punishment would be to never glimpse the face of God.
Damn, I wish it were like that.
I woke up with the mettalic taste of blood still on my mouth.
A gentle voice was saying something, but with my ears ringing, I couldn't make out anything. I could tell there was something in front of me, the smell was good, my stomach reminded me I was yet to eat anything.
Without much choice, I accepted the charity and ate. The taste was surprisingly good, if I were to describe it, it's something close to pork.
I spent some time just eating and recovering. I was also given a canteen of warm water; it tasted weird, but It was not like I was gonna complain.
As my senses returned, I could understand what the young man in front of me was saying.
I still remember his face, without any bruises,shallow beard and a glimmer of hope that didn't match that place at all.
"Feeling better now ?"
" I guess.. where are we now, Is that thing still here ? "
I tried sitting but a sharp pain on my chest stopped me from moving.
"Hey take it easy now. You're so skinny you look like a twig. When was the last time you ate?"
"About 10 seconds ago "
He smiled a bit.
"Well at least now you´re good enough to enjoy the ride"
With that, I felt prompted to look around, and finally noticed that we were on the back of a strange pickup truck.
Not only that, some sort of locomotive seemed to form around us. In total, there were four vehicles.
Our pickup stood at the center, with metal plaques around its frame and sharp grates on the ends confining us.
On our left, an old mustang suffered to keep itself close traveling on such uneven terrain.
On our right I could see Mice on top of an old motocicle gigling to himself, I silently wished he crashed.
Leading the group ahead, I could see the rear of a black van, and finally, following behind, I saw what appeared to be a Honda with smashed windows and covered in dents.
"Where are they taking us?"
"I have no idea, but anything must be better than these fucking fields."
Recalling Mice's delusions, I wasn't so sure about that.
"Who are you? Are you with them too?"
"I think we're in the same boat, buddy."
"The last guy who called me 'buddy' tied me up and dragged me into the clutches of a monster."
"I don't like them one bit, but from what I saw when we arrived, he was trying to protect you."
"So you really are one of them!"
"I already said we're in the same shit-hole. I got caught by the masked one while trying to hunt dinner." he said, pointing out the window towards the driver of the pickup, a tall, muscular man wearing a strange wooden mask.
"Sorry, the past few days have been so... God If you only knew what I've been through."
The young man chuckled sincerely. "Friend, I'm sure whatever you've been through, I've lived it dozens of times already. The name's John, nice to meet you."
"Well, John, you can call me Nate. I would shake your hand, but..." I nudged towards the wires on my hands. "
"Could be worse" He gestured towards his feet.
They where chopped off.
"Holy shit! I´m sorry John, these guys are insane!"
"Don´t be, They will be back once I die, but I have a feeling they will not let that happen so soon."
We could already see the spire slowly coming into view on the horizon.
"You sound used to all of this."
"Don't tell me, you're new?"
" I...still can´t believe this is all real"
"You better come to terms with it fast; this place doesn't take pity on the weak."
We didn't feel like chatting after that.
I wanted to ask about what I was given to eat, but something told me I would be better off not knowing. We traveled far towards the Spire, Gehenna slowly embracing us again with its dark skies.
From up close, I was able to see an opening in the base of the Spire.
The twisted terrain of the fields gave way to broken roads and dusted buildings, screams of despair found their way back to my ears as we passed near the tar pits.
Haunted by memories of my arrival, I couldn't help but search for the beasts that mauled me in the confusing streets of the city. I don't know if it was because of the sound of the engines or the size of our group, but I didn't see them among the wreckage and alleyways.
As we approached the Spire, a strange icy breeze embraced us. The shock was so intense that I lost my breath, trembling as I noticed a thin layer of ice forming rapidly on the pickup truck.
"Try to control your breathing, it'll pass soon."
"What is this now?"
"Specters."
As we finally reached the center of Lust, I realized we were not alone.
The base of the Spire held an immense arched opening, from which a dark interior was barely visible. Above the entrance, crucified on the wall, I saw a man; the slight movement of his head and his blue eyes made my stomach churn.
The culprits for the sudden cold gathered below the man in desperation. There were dozens of them, humanoid beings emitting a faint glow and seeming to levitate; their cries echoed through the city, spreading along with their icy presence.
The man only watched them, one by one, but said nothing.
He seemed to be judging them.
The engines shut off, and one by one the collectors descended from the vehicles.
Mice was the first to approach; the specters recoiled from him like cockroaches fleeing from light.
He then looked the man in the eyes, bowed, and said:
"Oh Aeacus! King of Aegina, my heart is not pure for rest, my eyes are blind to injustice, and my fists only weigh for my desires. From dust I came and to dust I return, my soul judged to forever burn, so I beg you to open the doors to my torment."
The Man's eyes locked onto Mice for a moment, then his lips whispered something in an elaborate tongue, and the darkness of the entrance turned into a scarlet mass.
I didn't knew about the kings back then. Aeacus is the easiest to convince; he oversees the higher circles. They say if you're under Minos's gaze, however, I hope you enjoy the lower circles because he's unlikely to grant you passage. And if you're a special kind of unlucky, I suggest you don't even try to approach Rhadamantus unless you want a one-way ticket to Pride.
The collectors then pulled us out of the cars, displaying us like trophies in an organized line. I had to support John on my shoulders; otherwise, they would have made him crawl the rest of the way.
From the other cars, a few more people emerged, other unfortunate souls with the same destination as mine. I saw a beautiful woman with short red hair and brown eyes; she was injured with several cuts on her back. The collector taking her out of the van seemed pleased; I tried not to dwell on it too much. She stared at me intensely, looking scared.
A man had to be forcibly removed from the Honda by two collectors. He was big and strong, dark-skinned with furious eyes, long braids cascading from his head to the middle of his back, a terrible scar showing on his left arm.
To this day, I have no idea how they managed to capture that bastard; later, he would tell me that they didn't got him until after he'd taken down some of them.
Finally, an old man with a band over his eyes was pushed into line; he looked so worn down that I thought I would see him turning to dust at any moment.
Mice then made his way to the entrance and was swallowed by the mass.
The collectors forced us to enter, one by one I saw everyone being pushed into the unknown, looking around I tried to think of something, some escape route.
"Don't do anything stupid," John whispered in my ear. "It won't work."
I thought about throwing him at them and running for my life. I didn't know him, didn't know a damn thing about him except his name. A glance at the collectors' weapons made me change my mind; I wouldn't get far even if I did find an opening.
Finally, my turn came. With the weight of John still on my shoulders, I walked to the entrance with my heart pounding in fear.
The mass that filled it seemed to react to me, stretching to cover my body, the scarlet glow blinding me as the collectors urged me to hurry.
I reached out my hand and felt a slight resistance, almost like touching cold gelatin. I felt it pulling me, and before my head was completely swallowed, I held my breath.
My body was warm; it was like being bathed in soup, every exposed inch of my skin burning, but the agony was only beginning.
I felt that strange mass invading me, entering through my nose, ears, eyes.
It hurt.
I tried to scream but my lungs were filled with the alien substance that forced its way through my organs; I felt like I was about to lose consciousness.
A shockwave ran through my body; I felt as if I was being torn into a thousand pieces and reformed, my consciousness used as a child's toy.
And then I was spat out.
I barfed on the gray grass that solemnly clung to me; John lay beside me, eyes rolled back, red fluid still trickling from his mouth.
I didn't have time to worry about him.
Before me, proudly stood what can only be described as a monument of sin.
Far from the light of hope it once was, now taken and calloused, abused and defiled by the filthy ideals of the damned scum.
Its golden streets don't shine.
Its security only harbors hate.
Its cracked walls don't protect, they only confine.
Even though I didn't knew much about hell, didn't knew its history or care about its purpose, I could see in that moment that I was looking at the greatest disrespect to the sacred that could exist.
An empire built with blood and erected by desire.
The Silver City opened its gates to me.
With the intention of never letting me go again.
The other collectors arrived, and one by one we were introduced to the next 40 years of our lives.
The memories of this city are painful. I tried to ditch this shit given the purpose of it all, but a drag is necessary if I'm really going to recall the decades I spent under that tyrant's rule.
Passing through the rusty gates, the lower city is the first thing you see. Jack leaves this region of the Silver City for his merchants to sell their findings in the lower circles, where everywhere you look, prostitutes and slaves accompany the more fortunate. Jack's personal guard takes advantage of his authority to get everything they want without spending a penny, of course.
Linked to the lower city by a rudimentary elevator, the Pleasure Zone casts its glow over those below, a neighborhood where the best drinks, drugs, and alterations can easily be found. Hunters and collectors usually walk around there, spending their earnings to calm their vices and complaining about their King's insane demands.
But by far, the most striking sight is a castle covered in soot, built at the highest level of the city, where only Jack's personal circle can tread without being summoned.
That's exactly where we were being taken.
John was still unconscious, being carried by our captors.
As we walked under the guns, naked and defenseless, the malicious glares of the vendors assessed us as new merchandise.
My feet ached, full of blisters; I couldn't feel my hands anymore. Looking at a toothless man being pulled by a chain around his neck, I wondered if that would be my fate.
Desperation was beginning to consume me.
We ascended to the Pleasure Zone by elevator, the same one powered by the brute force of several slaves harnessed to the wall, their hands raw from continuous and repetitive effort.
The hallucinogenic fumes from the laboratories filled the street of the neighborhood. I felt my heart race, my skin tingle, and a sweet smell invading my mind. The woman accompanying us seemed to recognize the substance as she lunged towards the source of the vapors. Mice kicked her in the stomach, making her kneel, grabbed her by the hair, and laughed.
"You fucking addict! You've used this shit before, haven't you? Look at the way you're trembling, hahaha! If they don't send you to the brothel, I might have an idea of what to do with you!"
She didn't seem to understand, or care, drooling from her mouth and experiencing small spasms as the drug filled her lungs.
Wish I could say I avoided it, but this shit is strong; within a few minutes, I was almost as high as when the Succubus attacked.
We then walked through the alleyways towards a staircase carved in marble; a sinner was overdosing against the steps.
Mice shot him in the head and threw him aside.
One moment he was alive, and the next, the remnants of his brain adorned the ground.
I gasped for air, my vision darkening; I meant nothing to them, they could dispose of me whenever they wanted.
I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was going back to the tar pits, seeing myself suffering and being devoured for ages, running only to be captured, no rest, no warning.
What kind of being would create such a rotten place? Why did he have the right to read my soul and throw me towards this flaming lake? It's not fair, it's sick.
As I climbed the stairs, stepping on the remnants of the sinner's mind, I wondered if God was watching me at that moment.
Maybe he was having fun.
The biblical hell holds a king.
It shelters demons and powerful beings born from darkness itself.
And as you already know, beings made by the Creator's own hand.
It wouldn't be at that moment that I would meet Samael, but alongside the self-proclaimed human King, I met his right-hand beast.
When the doors of the castle opened, I fell to my knees on the ground.
An angelic figure, with the aura of pure evil.
A feminine body, dressed in white adorned with jade, three pairs of long and golden wings kept her hovering a few meters above the ground.
On her face, a twisted helmet, with an eternal black flame at its peak, portraying what was, what is, and what will come.
The base of her helmet completely covers her eyes, squeezing them with such force that blood constantly drips to the ground. Her face constantly changes—a slender young woman, a frightened child, an irritated elder, a black goat, a hungry tarantula, an unnamed beast, an indescribable void.
In her hands, a chain hangs a clock, which constantly moves, which moves constantly. It tries to guess the hour, the hour that only He knows, constantly wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong, corrects itself, recoils, recalculates, wrong.
Such a beautiful creature, fell alongside the morning star, with a third of the stars, to forever hate us, to extinguish everything and everyone.
Who was I compared to such perfection?
Who was I compared to such obscenity?
I felt broken.
I felt complete.
Terrified.
Emancipated.
A thousand mouths sang in a thousand languages in my mind, all equally correct, all equally wrong.
The duality that leads to madness.
In my heart, he introduced himself, Astaroth, the Grand Duke of Hell.
With a flick of his hand, he disappeared, but I still felt him watching us, assessing us.
Seated on a broken throne, there was the face of control.
Almost as tall and robust as my captured companion, a short, defined beard adorned a ruthless face marked by battles.
Gray hair and a leather cloak, a silver medallion around his neck, and a shining red ring on his left hand, eating grapes like a Greek emperor.
Jack graced us with his presence.
Mice once again took the initiative.
"My lord, we have found fresh meat of the highest quality to expand your empire, mostly young and strong, and the old one is wise and knows the ancient rituals."
Jack looked at us as if we were worms, evaluating us like a spoiled child receiving gifts at Christmas.
"You bring me trash and expect gratitude. If this is what you consider good quality, perhaps it's time to revoke your position."
Jack's ring began to glow, and I felt Astaroth's strong presence growing. Mice quickly knelt and spoke again.
"My king! One of them appears to be marked." Mice then looked at me with a malicious smile, sending a shiver down my spine.
Jack observed me, the disdain in his eyes palpable.
He seemed to notice something at that moment, scratched his beard, and smiled.
"Mice! I can always count on you to keep me entertained. Take him to the pit, send the others to the dungeon. There may be something useful in this batch after all.
Before I could protest, I was struck on the head with the butt of a gun, and I lost consciousness.
Sorry, I need a moment. Just remembering the terrible nights I spent in that place makes me feel sick.
Man, I hope smoking doesn't count as too big of a sin.
When I woke up, I was chained to a wooden pillar by the neck, with several other sinners chained around me.
The place was poorly lit, and I could smell feces and urine. They didn't even release us to go to the bathroom.
In front of me, Jack stood with two guards.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I'm sorry to disturb your rest, but I have some questions, and if you cooperate, you may find yourself involved in something much bigger and more important than your miserable afterlife."
"Screw you! I've seen the things your people do, you're all crazy. I don't want anything to do with you!"
Jack's ring began to glow, and Astaroth's silhouette became visible even in the deep darkness.
"For your own good, I hope you learn to have good manners. Now tell me, where is he?"
"What?"
The ring glowed, and Astaroth entered my mind.
The concept of emptiness is terrifying.
Non-existence is dreadful.
Emptiness occupied existence before everything existed; in the beginning, there was nothing, and then there was God.
My consciousness faded away, I felt the void corrupting my flesh prison; it's not a lack of senses, it's Nothing.
Sounds didn't vanish; they turned into nothingness. Along with sensations, memories, my existence.
I was completely devoured. I wanted to scream, but there was no voice, no will.
I wanted to exist, but there was never an "I."
I vanished completely, and then I was catapulted back into existence, where I could feel everything.
The infinite, it destroys.
Through Astaroth's eyes, I saw, I understood, not even in a thousand and one lives could I touch one percent of the truth.
My brain burned, flooded with everything that was, everything that would come. I cried, I screamed, agony drove me to madness; time made no sense anymore.
And then everything stopped. In despair, I screamed, I cried like a child. Jack embraced me with the tenderness of a mother as I collapsed into his chest. He gently stroked my head while speaking softly.
"Poor thing, so much suffering, so much lamentation. Pain is a choice, and I don't want it for you. I love you; I love all my possessions from the bottom of my heart. I only want what's best for you, but for that, I need your help. I want your pain to stop, help me make it stop! You just need to tell me, Where. is. he?"
I didn't want to return to nothingness; I didn't want to suffer with knowledge. Desperately, I lied; I said I knew where whoever he was looking for was, I would show him, he just had to let me go.
Jack acquired a sad expression, gently lifted my face, and said.
"Oh, child, why do you lie to me?"
With the scarlet glow of the ring, once again, I ceased to exist, catapulted between two extremes, blood streaming from my ears, I laughed, cried, begged.
All to make it stop, for him to remove that being from the room, I just wanted peace.
I felt my cells giving up, exploding and restructuring; memories were erased and returned, lived a thousand times per second.
My wife, my daughter, the drugs, the betrayal, the accident, the body, the hospital, the fall.
Once again, everything stopped.
I spat blood on Jack's cloak, who asked me again.
"Where is he, come on, damn it, just tell me! He marked you, he touched you, come on, where the hell is Samael, tell me and I'll leave you alone!"
I pleaded, I tried to tell him that I didn't know who he was talking about, I promised obedience, my life, anything for mercy.
Once again, he sent me to the void. For countless nights, the cycle repeated itself, I have no idea how long I was tortured in that place.
Eventually, Jack began to use me in other ways.
My days were divided between slave labor in the lower city and nights of torment in Jack's palace.
At the time, I didn't understand how he couldn't see that he was wrong; clearly, there was nothing special about me, I couldn't lead him to Samael, I was just a damned soul who could barely endure the first days in the abyss.
I just hadn't realized that Jack already had the certainty that I was different. After all, how could I be a nobody if Astaroth couldn't extract the "truth" from me, and they had to resort to torture?
Hope vanished from my chest; I didn't know if I would ever escape from there, if I would see John again before my soul was corrupted by the Grand Duke.
The years dragged on, and Jack's fury only grew.
Fortunately for me, in my fourth year in the Silver City, I gained a new cellmate, the old man who had been brought in the same group as me.
Little did I know that he would be my first clue to the way out of there.
I'm tired of remembering those horrible years, so I think I will stop here for today.
Clinging to hope in hell is as useless as using petrol to put out a fire; you'll only end up dying either way. But in the realm of insanity, it might not be all that crazy to think there might be a way out of the suffering.

Jacked up my car for the first time and the rear wheels look really off. Is this normal? Been hearing a knocking from the rear of the car whenever I shift. Car has been in socal it's whole life so no rust or anything. Any help is much appreciated. BMW 2003 E46 M3 manual transmission

https://preview.redd.it/lrk745fcovzc1.png?width=2670&format=png&auto=webp&s=08a7e2ff25d4b840a970d2304fac564b1a1ec96b
This is my setup. I want to know what I should do with my headphones.
Currently/prior to acquiring my amp (Cambridge Audio CXA61) the PC is plugged into the USB input in the back of the Scarlett 2i2 (3rd Gen). I have an TRS to RCA cable going from the output on the back of the 2i2 to the Schiit Magni's input, with the headphones plugged into the Magni.
With the acquisition of the CXA61 I want to be able to use my PC with both my speakers and headphones, and my mic (plugged into the one of the 2i2's XLR front inputs) with my PC. I was planning on the PC remaining plugged in to the 2i2, but the TRS to RCA being moved to one of the CXA61's inputs.
The box off to the right in my drawing is my record player. I intend to get a phono stage at some point and skip the Bluetooth but that'll be a while, but I don't think this is relevant at the moment.
The CXA61 has a headphone jack on the front.
It also has a button for switching between the two loudspeaker outputs.
According to the manual:

Note: Plugging in headphones will automatically mute the loudspeaker, pre-out, and sub outputs.

However, I don't want to be plugging and unplugging my headphones every time I want to use my speakers, as I imagine that will cause unnecessary wear and tear to the jack over time.
Also, regarding rear connections:

Pre-out - For connection to the unbalanced inputs of a power amplifier or active subwoofer.

However given the following, I don't think this is relevant:

The Preamp Out sockets are for connecting to the input sockets of a power amplifier or active subwoofer.

My questions:
Should I just plug my headphones into the front headphone jack, rendering the Magni obsolete? (I don't want to do this due to the repeated plugging and unplugging.) Or do I use one of the speaker outputs on the back, plugged into the Magni? - Is that even possible? Should I use the RCA pre-out on the rear? (It would seem not.) Would the headphone jack provide the same quality of sound as the 2i2 and the Magni? How do I achieve switching between speakers and headphones without unplugging the headphones every time?
Appreciate any help, hope my diagram is useful, let me know if you want any other information.