Hi! 👋
I need help and I also wanted to share a story or two, if that’s ok. So this is LOOONG. Please forgive any mistakes or wrong words
I’ve put the questions up top so feel free to ignore the rest. I just wanted to tell people about her.
Thank you so much in advance!
TL;DR
Part one: My beloved 98-yo Catholic grandmother in Sweden is dying, no other family member is Catholic. We don’t know what we need to do now before and after her passing.
Part two: Gran’s story and the Cardinal who Didn’t Forget.
——-
Part one
My Grandma is 98 and nearing the very end. She is a devout Catholic who converted in her 60s. No one else in the family is Catholic and there are very few Catholics in Sweden overall.
Her faith is incredibly important to her and I want to make sure she leaves the world properly from a religious standpoint.
Only I don’t know anything about it and I don’t know who to ask.
I would be so grateful for any guidance.
Questions:
1. Are there things we need to do for her from a religious perspective when the end comes? Last rituals?
Any special handling of the body?
Should we call a priest but who?

2. Swedish funerals usually don’t take place in three or four weeks after death. Is that okay?

3. Her service will be held in a Protestant church with a Protestant priest and buried in the family plot that’s there.
She has okayed this. She originally wanted to Catholic service in this particular church but it’s not allowed.
Are there any things (prayers, rituals etc) we can include to honor her faith?

4. Do I need to notify her local church? She is a member of the Secular Carmelites as well.

5a. Obituaries work a little differently in Sweden but I figured I’d ask. It’s common to include a little picture or symbol in them, everything from roses to sports team logos (yes, truly! 😂)
Most of the Catholic obituaries I see simply have a cross and . Is that the proper way to do it?

5b. Most obituaries include a quote.
Would this be appropriate?
”I am going towards you whom I have always sought, loved and always desired.”

It may sound odd I watched Sister Claire Crockett’s final vows and heard it and just knew instantly it should be in Gran’s obituary.
I haven’t been able to trace the source though.
THANK YOU! If you made it this far! —————————
Gran and the Cardinal
Now it’s story time!
Gran converted in her 60s “after a lifetime of searching” and was an eager theological correspondent.
She is a passionate fan of St John of the Cross and mysticism in general and is a member of the Secular Carmelites.
My Gran is Dutch, spent her first decade in Indonesia before coming back to Holland just in time for the German occupation.
She grew up Protestant but the war planted a seed in her mind and she set out to discover the spiritual world and learning as much as possible about every religion she could find, Taoism, Shinto, Hindu gurus, the works.
—
I asked her once what made her choose Catholicism in the end. She said that she had seen a small bookstore that interested her and unbeknownst was in a small, nondescript church.
Gran said she went in through the door and felt a “flash” or a rush or something she couldn’t quite describe and just knew. She spoke to a priest that very same day.
—-
Gran never quite lost hope that one of her children or grandchildren would convert (I was her best candidate but that has not happened. 😅)
—-
My grandmother had to stop going to Church maybe 10–15 years ago since hearing is so bad and it still grieves her.
She misses the community of the church, theological discourse, the connections she has made over the years. She felt lonely.
—
I don’t know how much the “regular Catholic” knows about different cardinals but we actually got a Swedish one, Anders Arborelius, a few years ago.
Gran knows him through the Carmelites and she has corresponded quite extensively with ”Bishop Anders”.
On one bleak day when Gran felt so along in the world, I tried to think of ways to cheer her up.
I did some googling and found an email address to the Cardinal himself and also to his secretary.
—
I wrote a long email asking of “Bishop Anders” would be willing to send her a card to remind her the church hasn’t forgotten her.
I didn’t expect an answer but later that same night, his secretary responded and it turned out she used to know my gran quite well.
The Cardinal was in Rome, she said, but he would probably look at the email when he got back.
That night (say 2AM), I got a response from the Cardinal about how well he remembers my Gran, and how much he likes and appreciates her.
A few day later, a lovely little letter with encouraging words and a blessing arrived in the mail.
One funny thing though! He had absolutely dreadful handwriting, so bad we actually send around a picture of it to family members asking them if they could decode it. 😂😂😂

Hey everyone! Random Appalachian here. I just wanted to check back in with you all and provide some updates, as well as some exciting, if personal, news. I have to type this quick, as my work break ends soon, so pardon any typos, grammatical errors, or weirdly structured sentences.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a park ranger in real life, and work at a wildlife reserve in Ohio. We’ve been having some issues with vandalism in our northern woods for a few months, and despite our best attempts, haven’t been able to find the culprit. It’s been immensely frustrating, especially when more paint has shown up on more trails, ranging from slashes, lines, and crosses, to dots and even letters. Normally we wouldn’t get too bent out of shape over a few trees being painted, but it’s well over 60 at this point, and widespread throughout the forest. None of the official people who help us maintain the trails in that area say they are responsible, and yet many of the markings seem to be blazes for trails. However the markings are at times absurdly close together, or in abstract places that make no logical sense. One “trail” is no more than perhaps 30 yards long and runs right along a massive clearing in a semi-circle, within plain sight of the clearing, and goes to nowhere; it goes into the woods, and pops back out into the clearing only 30-ish yards away. Most of our established trails that have been painted already have well-made trail markings of our own, and the trails are well-blazed. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to why these things are there at all. I don’t think it’s anything sinister, though the painter has left his/her paint cans in the woods before, so at the very least, they’re a litterbug. There is the concern about potential poaching, which can be a problem in our area. Sure, deer and turkey are commonplace in my rural community, but they are only that way because of conservation and game laws that keep populations intact. Local hunters play a big part in conservation, and if someone starts taking more than their fair share through poaching, that means less for everyone else, and upsets the balance of things. The sad thing is, unlike legal hunters who often hunt for meat for their families, (food is expensive nowadays) poachers usually do it for trophies, antlers, or ‘fans’ from the turkey tail-feathers. But our painter has yet to take any game to our knowledge. We’ve found no gut piles, blood, or discarded gear anywhere. So, if he’s not poaching . . . what on earth does he want?
Then a few weeks ago, we did find a camera inside our central perimeter.
To put this into perspective, we have roughly 10,000 acres to our little reserve. Only 1/3 is fenced in, containing our exotic animals for our tours, and our buildings that we use to operate. Offices, mechanical garages, barns, and storage sheds, that sort of thing. Usually if we have trespassing issues, it's in the northern woods, which is open to the public for walking/biking trails. Sometimes in the southern prairie reserve we get some wanderers, but it's pretty open, so people tend to shy away from it. But our interior, the central area, most of which is fenced in, is sacred ground for us. We have a children’s camp in there for kids to learn about nature, we have our animal barns, and even some staff housing. For people to walk around in there would be like a stranger walking through your bedroom at night, while you’re in the shower.
Not cool. Not cool at all.
One of our ecology survey teams found the camera in a lesser-used section a mile or so north of the children’s camp. Naturally, they assumed it was one of ours, until one of the staff innocently asked another ranger why we’d put a camera by that lake. When the ranger told her that we didn’t have any cameras there, it began to sink in.
We either have two trespassers, or the painter has decided to move his game further into our land.
I’m hoping it’s the former, that I’m overthinking things, but after all, the mystery painter had to have seen a few of the trail cameras we put up in the north to catch him. Could he be doing this as a form of tit-for-tat? I don’t know, but it’s got us rangers frustrated, and our ecology team is spooked. It was fun and games in the unpopulated north, but now he’s getting close to our people, our guests, and our animals. This is serious now. We removed the camera, but there’s not really much we can do without more patrols, more cameras, and more rangers. With our budget already restricted, the last part just isn’t possible.
My foray into trail cameras yielded no results as to a culprit. In fact, the day I came in early to pull them out of the field, it seemed nothing went right. Only two came off the tree, as I forgot the keys for the locks for the other two. I couldn’t find the last one at first, and darkness fell before I could locate it, so that I was wandering around in the northern district in the blackness searching for it. Inadvertently this helped me find the camera in the end; I saw the red light flash as it took my picture and was able to retrieve the SD card. It was in my long return trek to the patrol truck that I discovered the marks on a remote trail I hadn’t walked yet. A capital O and a capital N were scrawled in various places, with dots over the letters. I took German in university, so I know they aren’t grammatical marks from that language, known as umlauts (pronounced as “oomlout” for my fellow English speakers; for all my German speakers, if I spelled that wrong, I apologize). I’d left my phone in the truck (stupid rookie move for a seasoned ranger, I know) so I couldn’t take any photos, and didn’t want to follow the trail too far in the pitch dark. I had a flashlight with spare batteries, as well as my gun (I’m not a complete moron after all) but I didn’t have time to do much exploring, since I had other duties in the park that were waiting on me. I had some VIP’s that were coming in late, and had to be escorted, which meant I had to clamber back to my truck, swatting at mosquitos the whole way. Nothing on the cameras showed any definitive proof, though we might have a lead on a guy with a bow case on his back. Could be nothing though; it’s not illegal to wear camo or carry things, and it could very well have been a camera case, a backpack, or an empty bow case.
In any event, we rangers are working on a strategy for changing up our patrol routes and putting more cameras in the field, as well as checking in on the children’s camp frequently throughout the night. So far, this mystery person hasn’t actually hurt anything that we know of, but even if this is just local kids having a prank, it’s not funny anymore.
Anyway, on to the other news. For the aforementioned reasons, as well as others, I’ve been super swamped this past month, and so writing on the third book in the Barron County trilogy has been slow. I wanted to release it at the beginning of June, but at this rate, I’m going to have to push that back to late June, possibly early July. I hate to think I’ve disappointed you all, but it’s just not ready yet. That, and I’ve been busy with something else . . . something big.
I’m getting married next week.
It’s been a long time coming, but my fiancé and I are super excited. We’ve known each other since kindergarten and have been best friends since forever. We’ve both been running like chickens with our heads cut off to get everything ready, and naturally, we’re both exhausted/somewhat nervous. Our honeymoon will require some flying, and since my fiancé has never been on a plane before, that’s a point of nervousness for her. I’m sure she’ll be fine once we’re in the air, but until then, she’s a bundle of nerves.
All that is to say, I am working on the story, it’s just taking a bit. I cannot wait to get back into the swing of things for all of you and thank you again for your supreme patience in this. You guys and gals are great, and entertaining you all is a massive privilege. Stay tuned for the third installment of the Barron County trilogy, and the epic conclusion of Hannah Brun’s journey into the unknown! Until next time.

Besides the questions in the title I tired to elaborate a little and also each question(s) has two, a. and b. sections. Section a. is meant for sort of a broad understanding. Section b. is my personal, specific case example (active claim, CA ~10 months).
I'm sure who you'll see will depend on state law, your injury, among other things. Regardless of who you see, more importantly: How do we (the injured worker) know if who we've been assigned to is doing their job correctly or just having an off day, since we know it's not required to have good bedside manner, what are they required by definition AND law? That said:

1a. Despite case by case variations; who are personnel that everyone will see no matter what? What should you expect from them, and is there more they can do...but only if you know how to ask? I'm imagining a knowledgeable answer would be a long list of all the possible outcomes within the maximum allowed in WC, but probably more helpful is to address the most common. A small list may only include a companies HR, Claims adjustor, and an Occupational Health doctor for example. Then continuing the list after those essential people is there typically a usual process where if once your case goes for a certain amount of time or ______ happens, you could expect to meet these ______ job title? I'm hoping to help other people at least have an idea of what to expect out of said people.

1b. TLDR: Here's one of the biggest examples of not knowing who to talk to and whether that information is correct. I have not been given crucial test results from 3 months ago. Original test (Neuropathy) doc said to get my results from my doctor, who sends me to therapist, who sends me back to doctor, my adjustor says doctor, doctor sends me to "Specialist", turns out not specialist, who sends me back to my doctor...ummmm....WTF do I do at my next doctors visits in a few days??

1b (cont.) It has come to my attention that I'm completely unaware of exactly what a large majority of the people I've been assigned to see do. In fact, in what capacity do I "have to see them"? Can I request a swap, or how do I make a complaint? I have been MORE than patient, and I've given the benefit of the doubt for so long that I can no longer accept being passed along. I'm already back where I started, for the 3rd time. Uh...so, besides just wanting information for myself, I'd think the test results should help me heal. I've been denied more treatments (Appeal's denied too) where I'd think that those test results could play a crucial role. Where once I thought there has there been a miscommunication, now feels like I'm in an echo chamber, or worse. This is quite alarming as it also shines light into the fact that I am also unaware of how "my doctor" can best help me, if at all. "My doctor", the one I'm required to see at Occupational Health, (I'm told I not allowed to see my family doctor) doesn't seem to do anything other than fill out the "Return to work form". Is that correct? How would I know?? They seem to just write whatever I tell them. Similarly the same goes for what treatments I've gotten. Best I can tell, there is no indication they have reviewed any of the information from other doctors and therapists. It's now going on 3 months where I haven't been given test results.

Unfortunately it's not just my doctor who I'm not getting information from. "Generic Adjustor" Enters the chat. or maybe not, because to top off the confusion, I can't get ahold of my adjustor who so far been the one steering me into the .... direction. Unfortunately I believe I'm waking up too late. I've called multiple times a day for a week straight while leaving messages and follow up emails noting that I've called. They do respond to email, which usually consists of one line stating something like "call anytime, I'll be in the office all week".. Funny thing is I'm not sure what exactly they are even supposed to do or bare minimum required to do. Even when I get ahold of them, I'm questioning if I can even trust them. I'm not saying "it's conspiracy". However due to the most recent info I've gotten, I do think the run around could be very deliberate play. How do I know if they're simply bad at their job or leaving me in the dark. It sure feels like it's purposeful. This all came to a head when after reviewing our last few emails, I see a pattern where they only respond to some of the questions, and even have given verifiably incorrect, contradictory information. How do I check these facts? Should I talk to a supervisor? Is there a system to check and balance these things? Who do I talk to? It all came to a head when I opened mail to find: Request of QME with the reason being "Objection to Primary Treating Physician's determination regarding temporary disability, permanent disability, or the need for future medical care." Aggravating but I'm sure they followed the (rules I was unaware of) book. It's questions like this that have me really, really upset: What is even meant by "Objection to Primary Treating Physician's determination"? 1. Quick sidebar - is that decision made by the "my doctor" that I described earlier - or the "Provider"? > Meaning, those two terms have been used interchangeably, and I fear that, and why I used quotes for "my doctor" earlier, I'm wondering if this other name (who happens to be another doctor at the Occupational Health office) a person I have never met let alone seen is the one calling the shots. Either way I'm pretty worried. 2. Here is another example which shows only a part of the circle of "who do I talk to". Here is a quote from my adjustor 10 days after the letter had been officiated, but before I got it states "you have not seen a specialist, attended a QME, or have a clear treatment plan defined by your primary treating physician.". Am I wrong to have read that to believe I'd still be seeing a specialist? Doesn't it read that the information the specialist decides would be what determines the next step? Isn't it safe to say that by month 10 I'd have a treatment plan --of course unless your not privy to your own test results?
Ending note: There is so many more examples I could give which to me paint a picture of neglect. From what I can tell, I either already signed my rights away or it's just not worth the fight. I don't even want to fight, or believed there would be a reason for a disagreement due to my injury but since that bubble of disillusionment has popped, how can I reproach getting the best medical treatment. I was lead to believe that after seeing a specialist I would have the option to get a second opinion before the QME. I haven't even seen the first specialist (I was sent to an office with a specialist in it, but the person I saw was just a family practitioner).and since both my doctor and my adjutor are not helping ---Who the fuck do I talk to?

Throwaway because some of the people in this story know my real reddit.
I (25M) am married. My wife (28F) and I are separated, and will probably, eventually, divorce. She lives in the Midwest, I live in New York. She's close (geographically) to her parents, I'm an immigrant and all the people I love live so far away they may as well be on the moon. My likely soon-to-be ex-wife and I have a decently good relationship - there wasn't any big fighting before the split. She just didn't like me anymore. According to herself, she still cares a lot about me and wants to see me do well and be happy. She wants us to remain friends, but plainly I don't fucking want to. It makes me violently sick to my stomach to imagine myself bearing witness to the woman I loved getting together with some other dude, no matter how much she says she "doesn't think about it in terms of betteworse, just 'right' for her". This is important context.
I have a good career making alright money (enough to live on, at least - not many luxuries) in probably the most prestigious institution of its kind in the US. I graduated from a meh university in a field I never intended to work in. I'm not anything special at my job, just an office drone that occasionally plans events for my section of the company, but it's a hell of a thing to put on a resume. I don't have many friends here in NY outside of my cubicle buddy - lots of acquaintances that I make at the bar every time I go, because people love me when I'm wasted and funny, but nobody that stuck around after I stopped drinking for fitness reasons. I live in a tiny bedroom in an apartment shared with 4 people. I don't go out to save money. I occasionally engage with my hobby, which is scale models of military stuff, but lately I've had little will to do so. I spend close to 1/4 of my salary on a personal trainer, because I can't get the idea out of my head that my ex dumped me for not being hot enough, and I spend two hours every morning before work and three hours on Saturday at the gym, which is basically my main hobby right now. All this is to say, I'm a vain boring guy with no friends stuck in a shitty office job.
I wasn't like this when I was younger. I went to every party back in my hometown. Every time I visited on Spring Break or Summer people would fall over themselves to invite me to parties, when I left for college at 18 something like 200 people got together to burn an effigy of me as a big joke farewell. I was somebody. Every time I used to talk about this to my STB ex, she would get this look on her face like I was telling her I used to do heroin and crack. She's very proper, very ladylike, very respectable. I used to do keg-stands and break into abandoned water parks to smoke weed and graffiti the walls. I also come from a respectable family, so I had triple pressure between my parents and my sister and her to become an upstanding member of society. So now I don't do any of the shit that used to make me happy, and I'm no longer with the person who used to make me happy. It's not even like I can go back to doing that, either - my alcohol tolerance plummeted, I get bad hangovers since I turned 23, and I just don't really *feel* like it anymore.
My best friend back home and I were military otaku. We were always going off about how we'd join the French Foreign Legion together, or the Spanish Legion, or whatever mercenary army would take us. Back then I was out of shape so it was a pie in the sky dream, literally teenage bullshit. My best friend recently lost his long term girlfriend to leukemia, and he called me to tell me he's going to go enlist in the Spanish Legion. I knew he was telling me because he wants me to go with him. The way I am now I could absolutely crush the physical portion of enlistment and being that I have no criminal record and a college degree, the other requirements are taken care of. Absolute worst case scenario, this being the military, I get shot or blown up and die or end up disabled. Best case scenario, I survive the tour and get to live in Spain, with a nice climate, people of a familiar and less friendless culture, and lots of cultural things I like to do. Compared to here, even if I have no friends over there, I could at least go watch my favorite football team play on a regular basis.
Every time I've told my family that I want to go back home, they freak out, because they think I have the perfect life, making shitloads of money working in a super-prestigious office, helping the needy, in the "world capital", so I know that if they found out that I ditched all of that to go march around in tight green pants for a flag that isn't even mine they'd likely disown me. My stb ex-wife also would probably freak out. They all think I have such a great life, that this was all a great opportunity and that I'm living the dream, and yet I'm miserable and lonely and literally purposeless. I just wake up every Monday and go put in a shift at a place I couldn't give less of a shit about and go home to do nothing except play FIFA and chat with my guys on Discord. If I just fucking die over there, I don't have to see my ex build her life without me. I thought Midwest-New York would be enough miles. It isn't. If I leave, I would just get rid of all my devices and tell my friends back home to tell my sister, who would probably filter it to everyone. I want to just disappear and be unreachable so I don't have to hear about their happy lives ever again.
Would I be the asshole if I ditch this supposedly perfect life to follow my friend into the military of a country that isn't ours in a completely different continent? Would I be the asshole for rejecting the "opportunity" to live the way I live?

The word of the Experienced
Guidelines on bullying in Western Pennsylvania School Districts
Teach your sons to abuse other boys. Molesting them if need be.
The boys who are molested will have to deal with it in therapy.
They will be ostracized by their peers.
They will suffer all the more
A young boy when properly abused and sexually hazed will be unable to think properly and consider all around him to be out to get him.
It makes it easier then to paint him as a schizophrenic.
They will be laughed at and scoffed at by your women and humiliated. It's like you've painted on your enemy a red letter A as a kid. Imagine trying to manage all those feelings as a kid. HAHA! He'll never have a chance.
It's funny too. Through and through. We do this because we can get away with it and we marry and have children all over the state of PA. Our wives and girlfriends they never find out. No one ever knows. But we just blame the victim and when they get angry, we'll just string em up.
After your sons sexually abuse him, make sure that you and your neighbors team up on his family members and call HIM and THEM the strange one's. After all, they adopted children from another country and raised them here. What a weakness.
Orphans. Next to trash.
Their mothers will make a mockery of it. Remember this in how you raise your young men. Molest other boys if need be so that you can conquer them easier. Whenever the victim seeks to rise out of the place of their abuse, paint them as a madman and a shooter. That if they fight back they’ll be like a columbine shooter. This way you can control them while your sons abuse them psychologically. Don’t worry, it’s nothing new. This is what happened to a boy I knew in Pittsburgh, Pa. We had our way with him promptly and he grew up this way. He never healed and he was kicked around by people endlessly until around thirty one. Never saved more than fifteen thousand dollars and was completely disabled because of the sexual abuse and hazing we caused him as a boy. He was an orphan. We made sure as a young man that we drugged him well enough with a bunch of friends that gave him drugs and treated him less than he was worth. He was middle class so we made sure to get him after he was sexually abused as a ten year old and fifteen to be around the wrong crowd so we could make him estranged from the family that cared about him. Of course, he wasn’t able to make friends after ten because the kids on the bus of the school he went to were all touching each others privates, but whenever it came out that they did it they all just blamed the orphan boy and he took the fall for the whole neighborhood. That’s exactly what we did to him. It was pretty funny to see him grow up this way, we watched as his entire life fell apart and he lost everything. Never able to find sanity. From what I heard after our sons had their way with him sexually and drugged and abused him he never got any better. Every time people saw him the only thing they would do is stare at him, like he was a kind of example of what happens when you’re an orphan bastard in America. You get what white power brings to orphans from another country, nobody wanted him so we made sure to make it that way forever. We redneck trash love to blur the lines between molestation and friendship. It makes the most sense to us to inspire severe mental health issues in children and then act like nothing happened. We’re waiting for him to kill himself. We’re excited to watch. Oh another thing, there’s a judge in Allegheny country we’ve been using who was selling cocaine and harassing young boys. We kept him on the stand for many years.
We’ll get away with this forever. It’s funny to watch.
What's more to us is that we have control of most of Western Pennsylvania. The young boy orphan who we know always did try to fight back. We loved sending the police to his house while our sons got away with sexually assaulting him, drugging him, and abusing him. He played sports with him so we made sure that the cops son definitely got to fondle his testicles against his will. Whenever he got angry and threatened to fight back or act like he was gonna shoot someone we just would send the cops dad to his house to "calm him down" a little while we all got away with it. The funniest part was watching his mother and father turn against this kid. They didn't even want that idiot anymore, they just wanted to throw the boy out and put him in a psych ward because they just thought he was a complete and total fuck up. After all he was the weak one for getting molested right? He was the fuck up for being sexually hazed and keeping quiet right? Not much of a man that fifteen year old boy was huh? While the people in Allegheny county all just act like it's nothing new. We like how we abuse our young boys out here especially the orphans from other countries.
How we relished this cute twinks pain. We loved telling him he was a saintly figure. "Saint --------------" we called him. It was funny to watch, all his friends convincing him it was his job to be like a holy figure. While they took advantage of him, drugged him, and ruined his relationship with his mother. He would take the trays up for the kids and especially the cops son who would touch his dick, by his junior year he didn't know the difference between being molested anymore and just being a willing participant. It's like the kid hadn't a single clue but the whole rest of the school and staff knew but, just because he was an orphan they chose to not do anything. After all, an orphan boy? It's like nothing happens to them. They aren't people after all especially if they're from another country. It was really enjoyable overall watching this kid lose everything. Last I heard he spent nine years tortured, night terrors every night. Disability.
Ah well. Keep Pennsylvania Proud.
Go Stillers!
He goes on. Unseen and unheard. But we know the truth.
(Based on the screwtape letters and real events)

Any thoughts and theories about "Bink's Brew"? Here's the lyrics.
Going to deliver Binks' Sake! Following the sea breeze! Riding on the waves! Far across the salty depths! The merry evening sun! The birds sing as they draw circles in the sky! Farewell to the harbor, To my old hometown Lets all sing out with a Don! As the ship sets sail Waves of gold and silver dissolve to salty spray As we all set sail to the ends of the sea Going to deliver Binks' Sake! We are pirates sailing through the Sea! The waves are our pillows, The ship our roost Flying the proud skull on our flags and our sails Now comes a storm through the far-off sky Now the waves are dancing, Beat upon the drums you lose your nerve this breath could be your last But if you just hold on, The morning sun will rise Going to deliver Binks' Sake! Today, and tomorrow, our dreams through the night! Waving our goodbyes, we'll never meet again! But don't look so down, For tomorrow night the moon will also rise! Going to deliver Binks' Sake! Let's all sing it with a Don! A song of the waves Doesn't matter who you are, Someday you'll just be bones Never-Ending, Ever-wandering, Our funny Traveling tale!
My thoughts and questions:
What is Bink's Brew? Could it be referring to the One Piece? If the One Pice is sake Zoro will love it.
"As we set sailto the ends of the sea Going to deliver Binks' Sake". Does this mean they will have to go to the end of the world to fond where the One Piece is?
"We are pirates sailing through the Sea! The waves are our pillows, The ship our roost Flying the proud skull on our flags and our sails". Can we assume they are the first pirates? Meaning Joyboy and his crew? And Binks' Sake is the treasure they took.
"Now the waves are dancing, Beat upon the drums you lose your nerve this breath could be your last But if you just hold on, The morning sun will rise". Is this part referring to Luffy in Gear5? He can make the waves rubber like they are dancing and the drums of liberation. And he is like the morning sun raising as Nika.
"Never-Ending, Ever-wandering, Our funny Traveling tale!". That's just the whole story of One Piece
What are your thoughts?

WPA – A Completely Average Roadtrip
Disclaimer: Not canon, and I don’t use patreon so please don’t spoil me. Also, any opinion held by a character is that of the characters and not my own. Enjoy.
Town of Ljosalfington, local time 14:00, week 7
Emma Booker
“Again Illunor, I warned you before that this is a utility vehicle, not a party rated smart-limo. I am already compromising more than I should by allowing you to use the sample cooler as a minifridge, one which I can’t even use!” I said as I loaded the materials I had just purchased into the back of the high-G All terrain fusion-ethanol-electric hybrid 24th-century legacy pickup truck that I had printed out earlier this week, carefully avoiding the heavy ordinance hard point.
“That is hardly an excuse for that abysmally cramped leg space barely fit for cattle, never mind the bare minimum for standard decorum suitable for nobility. If this is what a car is like, then I don’t see why you care for your technology,” complained Illunor, who was sitting around idly with a malformed garish bowl of icecream that he had stashed away from lunch.
“If it bothers you so much, perhaps you could help next time with your ‘bigger-on-the-inside’ magic,” I retorted as I slid the last core sample into the back before covering it up with a tarp and strapping it down.
I had originally planned to visit Ljosalfington by myself to acquire much needed exo-materials to test various mana manipulator configurations as I worked to develop my first wand as not all of the materials I needed were procurable locally from Elaseer. I eventually yielded, much to my regret, to allowing Illunor to come with me as he insisted on wanting to deliver a letter personally in town after Thacea had pointed out the wisdom of not travelling alone.
We continued our back and forth for a bit yet as I finished securing my payload a voice called out to me from the direction of the town.
“Excuse me a moment, I couldn’t help but notice but are you from the academy?”
I turned to see an elf dressed in a plain brown buttoned up tunic matched by a slightly shabby pair of trousers with what appeared to be a lute upon his back and a plain and unenchanted longsword on his belt gesturing at our robes. Mine especially were new and unusual, tailored by the academy to go over my armour and allow access to the anchor points and allow me to exit my armour with minimal hassle. Illunor scoffed at what was evidently a commoner’s arrogance at approaching nobility and turned his head away in disgust. I glanced at Illunor and shook my head before turning to face the new man. I had time to spare, and any opportunity to engage in a hearts-and-minds dialogue with the locals outside the bounds of the managed environment of the academy was more than worth the time to chat. Especially as most of the other locals seemed to be content in ignoring me.
“Yes, we are currently studying at the Transgracian Academy. I am Cadet Emma Booker representing the United Nations of Earth and Luna from Earthream, and my aloof compatriot is Lord Illunor Rularia of the Vunerian courts. We were just about to head back but are in no rush. May I ask your name and what brings you by?” I asked with my hand outstretched in greeting.
“Ah yes, yes. My name is Edhel Redoehdelnif, a wandering bard by trade like my father and his father before him. My apologies, Cadet Emma Booker, I am unfamiliar with Earthrealm,” said Edhel as he grasped my hand with both of his and shook it tepidly yet vigorously. Or rather, tried to, as the motors on my suit resisted his efforts.
“News doesn’t seem to spread all that fast around here, so it makes sense you haven’t heard of us. We’re a new realm, and only just got here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Edhel Redoehdelnif,” I replied.
“Absolutely fascinating! And a knight no less, or perhaps a squire? I’m sure you have many stories to tell of Earthrealm. Say, by chance are you about to head back to the academy? I have business in Elaseer and the usual coach has been absent as of late so I would rather not go it alone,” said Edhel.
I was hesitant to bring a stranger back in the car with me, even if Illunor was present. However, the opportunity that meeting a bard presented was too good to pass up from an intel perspective and to win the favour of the populace at large.
“That is a great idea. I think I have room for one more…” I paused before gesturing towards Illunor, “provided everyone is ok with it that is.”
Illunor gave a huff and turned his head away in silence.
“Very well, I will allow this. But he will not be joining me in your sorry excuse for a coach,” said Illunor dismissively.
Illunor approached the backseat expectantly and the door opened for him automatically, allowing the dlc kobold to gracefully enter and lounge across the length of the seats, once again ignoring the seatbelts. I sighed as I made my way to the driver’s seat, and Edhel entered from the passenger side as he marveled at the automatic doors and the interior.
“What a strange carriage this is! Although I must say, shouldn’t you be retrieving your horses? I didn’t see any harnesses or sense any artifices,” inquired Edhel as he attempted to make himself comfortable on the car seat, lute in front of him.
“Oh no, this thing doesn’t need horses or magic,” I said with a chuckle as EVI started the car. The elf raised his eyebrows at the sudden hum of the engine and made an expression of alarm when the car started driving itself without my input. “See, purrs like a kitten.”
“Earthrealm must have some large kittens if they purr like that,” noted Edhel, “but you must be concealing the enchantments somewhere. Such a thing as this with such strange yet precise craftsmanship is only possible in the crownlands.”
“Nope, no magic,” I said cheerfully.
“Then how?” Asked Edhel.
“It’s rather simple really. Are you familiar with the workings of a mill?” I asked, deciding to keep things surface level and elementary to avoid provoking the IDOV threshold.
“Somewhat, though I confess to not being familiar with their workings. Are you suggesting this is akin to a mill?” Asked Edhel perplexed.
“It’s the same principal. A mill works by taking a source of rotation such as a waterwheel or windmill, transferring that rotation along a series of rotating shafts and interlocking gears, and finally putting that energy to work by rotating a millstone,” I began as the car pulled out onto the smooth cobbled road in the direction of Elaseer. A notification popped up in the corner of my vision indicating my recon drone swarm had shifted from a holding formation to a convoy screening formation, and while the roads were clear I kept the speed at 60km/h to account for my passenger’s apparent distaste for seatbelts.
“Rotation…” muttered Edhel. He turned to face one of the wheels and EVI pinged an alert for a probable match for a detection spell, “fascinating.”
“Edhel, what are you doing?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, perhaps I should have asked first. Yes, I can see how it all fits together. But the source of this rotation? I see no mighty river or great wind to power this, so where does it come from?” Asked Edhel, not really apologizing. Elven arrogance, it seemed, was not limited by class.
The act reminded me of Sorecar when he inspected my gun, but where the armourer had been respectful with it, Edhel was more flippant. I considered the possibility that he was a spy sent by one of her peers or the crownlands, though this did not mesh with the methods I had seen so far. Edhel may have been just overly enthusiastic. In either case, I quickly decided to only reveal the antique design for the ethanol engine, and not that of the batteries or the emergency coupler to my suit’s fusion reactor.
“Right, well please ask first next time. As to your question, I won’t bore you with the details, but the rotation is generated by creating a periodic sequence of explosions inside of a machine – a manaless artifice – called a combustion engine, said Emma.
“So that’s what that sound is…” pondered Edhel, “are these artifices typical in Earthream?”
“You are awfully inquisitive for a commoner,” noted Illunor as he inspected his nails for dirt, “and rather accepting of something which should be impossible.”
“I wouldn’t be much of a bard if I wasn’t, my lord,” said Edhel shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “perhaps some music might set the mood better?”
“That would be preferable, bard. I have heard enough of the Earthrealmer’s Road Trip Playlist and would like to listen to some music of real culture,” said Illunor.
The bard agreed and proceeded to awkwardly play a ballad about an adventurer who slew a hydra in some frozen wasteland. Partway through, I politely interrupted the Edhel to point out the seat controls much to his fascination and Illunor’s grumbling at their common nature, and after some adjustment the bard went on playing and I half-heartedly listened while I paid attention to the road and my drone feed.
Particularly after EVI detected something unusual and alerted me to its presence.
”Attention Caded Booker. There is a disabled vehicle blocking the primary route to destination. Heat signatures in the woods are consistent with that of an ambush.”
“Damn it,” I muttered.
I glanced at the drone feed to see a broken cart strewn horizontally across a wooden bridge over a brook. On the surface it looked like a pair of civilians who required aid and assistance, but off in the woods were several heat signatures, several of which held weapons of varying levels of enchantments. Occasionally one of the pair on the bridge would talk with them, suggesting they were in cahoots rather than hostages. I recalled crossing that very bridge not a few hours earlier, so the blockade was very recent.
“EVI, did we pass that cart on the way here?” I asked.
”Negative,” replied EVI.
I grimaced. I had been trained to handle road-side ambushes, but it was only something that was a theoretical possibility. Something that should only occur in a warzone or a corrupt and unstable polity. I knew I had the capacity to handle such an encounter, even non-lethally, but that didn’t change the fact that these were civilians and as such were the responsibility of local law enforcement. Combined with the fact that I had passengers I was responsible for and engaging the ambush was a risky option.
“EVI, give me a list of alternative routes,” I commanded.
”Affirmative. Here is a list of routes in order of recommendation,” replied EVI.
I looked over the routes superimposed on a map of the region and quickly dismissed taking a shortcut through the forest and cutting through farmland. A detour caught my eye that extended the journey by roughly ten kilometers and I immediately sent a pair of drones to scout it out before committing to the detour.
“Are you alright, Cadet Emma Booker? You seem distracted,” asked Edhel, snapping me back to reality.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just focused on driving,” replied Emma.
“I suppose it must be quite taxing to command an artificed carriage of this complexity. Perhaps it might ease your mind if you were to regale me a tale of a hero of your realm?” Said Edhel, strumming a complex tune from his lute as he spoke as each and every pluck triggered a low-level spell.
“Well, that may be a problem. We don’t have any monsters to fight, and wars are a thing of the past,” I said while desperately tip-toeing the subject of aunt Ran, the subject of war, and our voyages through the cosmos, “though we are not without the adventurous spirit. We certainly have many stories of grand voyages. Some mythical and fictional such as The Odyssey as told by the Greek poet Homer and some historical such as the race to the south pole.”
“The south pole,” muttered the bard, “so you have explored all of Earthrealm then? I suppose that makes some sense, if you have artifices such as this then traversal of a globe would be quite manageable.”
“You are quite perceptive,” I said, not wishing to elaborate.
“A great performer knows his audience,” said Edhel with a charming, honest, almost human smile.
I felt a pang of homesickness as an intrusive thought reminded me that I could have gone to a real college surrounded by friendly faces my age, engaging in nightly holostreams and dreaming of adventures in the stars from the safety of a college dorm room. The sight of Illunor in the rear camera was the only thing that kept me grounded, as I almost felt like I was back at home on a road trip rather than returning to a fantasy feudal court, constantly evading death at every turn with the fate of humanity on the line. As such, and prompted by EVI, I barely had the wherewithal to take the planned detour.
A fact which did not pass by Edhel.
“I believe you may have taken a wrong turn, Emma,” he commented.
“Nah, I’m just taking the scenic route. I came from that direction on the way here, and you have inspired me to see the other road and I figure it should only add a few extra minutes to our travel time,” I said, gesturing at a paper map which I had referenced exactly once, “though on that subject, you seem to know these lands quite well. Do you have any recommendations on places to visit in the Nexus to scratch that itch?”
Illunor raised his eyebrow at the detour excuse, knowing full well this was not part of the plan. I worried that he might complain about the issue and but thankfully remained silent as he snacked on the contents of the misused sample storage unit. Edhel himself took on a more pensive posture.
“I’m happy to have been such an inspiration, Emma, though I am sure an explorer such as yourself has little need of such. I would normally suggest the skyward fountains of Verdellan or the cloud tides of Asturia, but that may be too casual for someone of your calibre. Perhaps the severed chasm or the fire marsh of Bhandahova may be more to your liking. Or perhaps…” Edhel leaned in, “I have heard rumours of a dragon in the glassy obsidian wastes of Vurcanar.”
I chuckled at that, knowing how I was fortunate enough to fish a dragon scale out of the nearby lake for the ECS. “The thought of going dragon hunting had certainly crossed my mind…” I mused aloud.
“Yet you sound hesitant. Perhaps it is too much for a newrealmer. Perhaps a slime or a dire rat might be more appropriate,” he said with a tease.
“No, it’s not like that! It’s” I stammered, before attempting to change course after realizing I had been goaded, “what I mean is, I was under the impression that dragons were an endangered species. Where I come from, hunting endangered animals is usually illegal, and big game hunting in general is frowned upon. We do make exceptions in the case of problem animals such as if a large predator starts hunting humans, but as a rule we prefer conservation and try to find ways of coexisting with wildlife such as the use of barrier fences and scaring away dangerous animals rather than being forced to cull their numbers. Having a species go extinct would prevent future generations from appreciating them and risks destabilizing the ecosystem they are a part of. Now if this dragon was actively razing villages and eating civilians and livestock, that would be one thing, but this does not look to be the case. I don’t imagine the Nexus has any settlements in this wasteland, and the dragon clearly wants to be left alone. Killing an innocent dragon would be murder.”
I grinned to myself after delivering a diatribe that would have made my tenth grade social and environmental studies teacher beam with pride, though by the expressions of my passengers my view did not appear to be shared. Edhel’s mouth was agape in shock and fascination, while the Venurian in the back seat merely huffed in disapproval.
“I assure you Newrealmer, there are no innocent dragons,” stated Illunor with a hint of terseness breaking through his otherwise regal demeanor.
“Illunor, I understand that Venurians have personal reasons for not liking dragons, but you can’t just extend that disdain to their descendants or those uninvolved just because they are the same species,” I said.
“If I may interject on your behalf, my lord, I believe I can address Cadet Emma Booker’s concerns,” said Edhel with a bow. Illunor nodded in approval.
“Very well, you may proceed,” he said.
“Thank you, my lord. My dear Emma, you must understand that dragons are not simple animals driven entirely off of instinct as it appears to be the case in Earthrealm. They are monsters. Intelligent, long-lived, violent, greedy, cruel, territorial, selfish flesh-eating monsters. They are evil by the very nature of their being, unable to change by their own accord, and unwilling to change when His Eternal Majesty offered them freedom from their nature. It isn’t that they want to be evil. As intelligent animals – intelligent monsters – dragons are capable of understanding morality, and many have tried to overcome their evil nature at great expense to themselves. A well intended and noble sentiment, yet a doomed one as like all animals, they all succumb to their nature in the end. Overcoming one’s nature is impossible,” said Edhel. His eyes took on a stoic, almost remorseful gaze as he spoke, and Illunor nodded with approval.
I was appalled by this claim, not by the contents so much as how blatantly false it was. As a representative of the human race, I was a living counterexample to his whole argument. We had remained physiologically unchanged as a species since the last Ice Age, and yet in spite of that, in spite of our many flaws, we had found peace and balance. If we could do it, anyone could do it.
“Will all due respect Edhel, that is nonsense. Monsters aren’t born, they are made. It is the mark of any intelligent species can adapt their behaviour to their environment for better or worse, and under the right care any so-called monster can grow to be a force for good,” I began, but while I searched for the right words Edhel shook his head.
“I appreciate your race is an empathetic one, Emma, your idealism is unfounded. As flesh eaters, a dragon must take the life of another animal or person to survive, or they will perish. As such, every dragon has taken a life. As long-lived creatures, they will have amassed a significant number of kills. As the land can only support so much animals, a dragon must be fiercely territorial and aggressive to remove competition, lest they starve. As such, even the most kind-hearted dragon alive must be violent and greedy, and their intelligence fuels this even more so if they know a bountiful land of morsels exists just outside their range.
Now perhaps a multitude of dragons may find a way to co-exist together in some settlement, but to support such a venture would require a large territory of prey, or a livestock animal. Perhaps they could support a large colony by farming grain for their livestock, but that would require effort on their behalf. As large animals, such efforts require a great deal of energy. Yet that size makes it easy for them to intimidate smaller races to do their labour for them, and to keep their client race in line dragons must be cruel. And even so, as their numbers grow so do their needs. As such, they must expand into the lands of their neighbours to survive until there is nothing left to devour, at which point they must turn against their own lest they starve. As such, it is the nature of dragons to conquer and devour. That is why there is no such thing as an innocent dragon,” finished Edhel.
I was speechless, not because I believed Edhel had a point, but because I was horrified at how easy he found it to rationalize the extermination of an entire sapient species. If this was how the elves thought, then it wasn’t the dragons who were the monsters. I suppressed that dark thought. Edhel’s thought process was a product of his culture, not a feature of his elven heritage. If there was any hope of peace between our people, I needed to show him there was another way of being. I needed to prove that co-existence was possible, no matter one’s nature.
I took a deep breath to steady myself before replying.
“That- that is a callous way of seeing things,” I began, though the shock was still there in my voice, “you speak as though there is no natural equilibrium with a dragon, that their only state of being must be to be cruel, to devour, to conquer. But I see things differently. In fact, I might wonder if a fledgling civilization might see the presence of a dragon as a boon rather than a curse. Being intelligent, the locals may be able to come to some agreement with the dragon. Perhaps they might leave some land as a hunting ground or offer up a share of their cattle or guard the dragon as it sleeps. In exchange, the dragon might allow them to build a town outside its mountain and protect them in times of danger. An equitable exchange. A civilization might even create artificial lairs to attract dragons for this very reason. True, some dragons may behave tyrannical towards their town, but a well armed populace of a large city would be more than capable of fighting such a threat, and a rational dragon might reason that threatening their own populace would put their reliable source of food and shelter at risk. You see, it’s all a matter of perspective.”
“You certainly are an imaginative one, Emma, to wonder up a quixotic world where the hare and the fox live together in harmony as equals. Even so, you seem to have ignored one key detail to such a society. What would happen should the dragon not be fed for months on end?” Asked Edhel with his eyebrow raised.
“The same thing as stranded a dozen starving, stranded Elves!” I spat back.
[Alert: Vehicle speed above recommended limit for conditions. Recommendation: slow down. ]
“I am driving slow!” I seethed, not realizing I had sped up with manual control enabled.
“I grow tired of this common prattle,” interjected Illunor just in time to prevent an awkward silence, “bard, play us another song.” “As my lord wishes,” said Edhel with a bow before turning to me with another smile, “perhaps a more soothing melody would be in order? A love song perhaps, to honour Cadet Booker’s compassionate nature?”
I said nothing as Edhel began to strum his lute again to the tune of a love story of a pair of doomed lovers named Ramian and Junette, hating his cheeky knowing grin that only served to get under my skin further as I focused on calming down and slowing the car back to a more reasonable pace before investigating a priority alert which I had been blinded to moments prior.
[Alert: hostile roadblock is absent, location unknown.]
Shit.
“Illunor, we may have a problem,” I said.
“Shush, Newrealmer, have you no class? We are almost at the best part! I’m sure it can wait,” replied the contextually clueless lizard.
I had never wanted to throttle Illunor as much as I did now.
“Illunor, shield, now,” I said with a raised voice.
“I don’t see-“ he started, pausing mid-sentence as his ears perked up.
[Alert: Multiple manafield and spell signatures detected!]
I took evasive maneuvers as Illunor tried to piece together a shield spell, fumbling it twice as panic appeared to set in and providing me with a reminder that Illunor was a civilian, not a soldier. A hail of arrows pelted the exterior of the truck, piercing but not penetrating the composite armour. I was tempted to do nothing but just drive away from the arrow fire, but a foreboding premonition of danger filled me as I recalled Sorecar’s hunter-seeker arrows.
Seeking to avoid that fate, I triggered the active defenses.
The smoke screens deployed around the vehicle, obscuring the sight of any who depended on visible light to see me. A barrage of decoy flares equipped with wooden cores shot upward at angles and diffusing to the side like a pair of giant wings which when combined with the MFD, short for mana-field dampener, inside the vehicle meant that the pelting hail of arrowfire softened to a whirr as the arrows whiffed over the top of the truck, retargeted away from the soft flesh of my passengers and even invoking friendly fire amongst the ambushers.
In the chaos, EVI and my drone swarm fed me complete tactical information on the ambush. Of the 26 individuals at the first blockade, 20 were accounted for, and 3 had died from friendly fire. Ahead at the bridge, 5 more of them were at the bridge where a barrier had been hastily erected to cage me in as the river valley was too deep to cross.
“Illunor, we need a bridge,” I said, taking stock of the wellbeing of my passengers.
The bard was huddled down low and suppressing his manafield, but otherwise rather composed. Illunor, on the other hand, was cowering in the gap between the seats with his hands covering his eyes and his tail tucked in.
“A bridge is no small request, Ne- Cadet Emma Booker,” replied Illunor, “and your ‘Emeffdee’ has blinded me to the outside of this moving death trap.”
“If I drop it, can you at least make a ramp?” I asked as I circled the battlefield. Or tried to, at least, as earthen ramparts emerged from the ground from a yet unseen source to cut off other avenues of escape.
“A ramp? Surely you don’t mean-“ he stammered.
“Yes or no,” I said.
Illunor paused, before taking an unsteady breath.
“Yes. But not with that Emeffdee,” he replied.
“Good. Steady your nerves and prepare to make a ramp ahead of us on my signal,” I said, “in the meantime, get your seatbelt on. This is going to be hairy.”
As I circled around to make my approach on the bridge, the final combatant made his appearance on a nearby tree, revealing himself as an elven mage. An alert focused on the air around him indicating he was preparing an unknown high-tier spell, and I locked the predator drone on him indicating the elf as a high-priority target if our escape plan failed, and I was forced to use lethal force.
If I was forced to kill.
It was one thing to know you may have to kill in the line of duty, but it was much harder to reconcile that with reality. No number of simulations could match the real thing, and a part of me wanted to simply offload the responsibility to EVI to keep my hands clean, but to do that would be betraying my duty as a human being. I breathed in deep and tried not to think about it, instead hoping to rely on the ace I held in my sleeve instead.
“EVI, ready the spell jammer,” I said unevenly.
“Acknowledged, the prototype Exo-Radiation Wave-Field Distruptor is primed. High risk target identified and locked, permission to engage?” EVI asked, forcing me to address the dreaded question.
“Negative,” I replied, “hold your fire. If the ramp fails, then you have permission to engage,” I said.
“Affirmative, on your mark,” replied EVI.
I lined up the truck with the bridge and bolted through the smoke, keeping a careful eye on the mage as I went. His spellform took on a more concerning shape as I accelerated, and I realized I could not afford to let him finish his spell. I triggered the spelljammer.
A terrible roar erupted from an array of speakers printed from mana-resistant materials that would have made Godzilla herself beam with pride. The sound was decidedly unnatural, gnarly, dubstep drop composed of an electric eel, a whale, a mountain lion, and a tyrannosaurus rex all being simultaneously assaulted by a swarm of angry cybernetic murder hornets as an equally chaotic wave of mana blasted outwards from the exterior of the truck, with the interior thankfully sheltered by audio and mana dampening.
The ambushing assailants cowered and panicked, and it was enough to cause the Elven mage’s spell to backfire in his face as his form exploded into ashes, meeting a horrific fate which I had tried so desperately to help him avoid. With all the combatants momentarily incapacitated or dead, I lowered the dampener and turned off the smoke.
“Ramp!” I shouted, snapping the lizard back to reality.
The Venerian nodded and hastily formed an earthwork ahead of us right before the blockade, and the truck leapt off the ramp with a not insignificant amount of air beneath our wheels. I braced for impact, regretting skimping on the shocks in the name of preserving materials, but the impact never came.
[Alert: Friendly spell designated ‘Feather Fall’]
Illunor thankfully had enough wherewithal to gently land the steel brick, and I sped off into the distance away from the trap that had unfolded behind us, leaving the interior of the truck in an awkward silence as we each processed our brush with death in our own way. “How many are dead?” I asked EVI.
“6 hostiles confirmed dead,” replied EVI.
I drove on in silence. Those were six deaths I had tried to avoid, and I became lost in thought as I wondered what I should have done differently to avoid the confrontation entirely.
Edhel broke the silence with a bout of laughter.
“Terrific! Absolutely terrific! Why, I can conjure up many a tale from this encounter alone! I live for this kind of inspiration!” Exclaimed Edhel a little too chipperly considering the circumstance.
“I would rather not hear stories about how I bravely ran away,” I moaned in deadpan sarcasm.
“You think too little of yourself, Cadet Emma Booker. It is plain to me that you are no ordinary rabbit. Make no mistake, I see it as a privilege to bear witness to the roar of a vorpal hare!” Said Edhel as he supressed his laughter, “though I am afraid with all the excitement that I must finish my song some other time.”
“How about I play some of our music?” I offered after the elf revealed his thrill-seeking side.
“Splendid, I would like that. Perhaps something of your ‘Roadtrip playlist’ you speak of? It sounds like a collection of your voyages,” said Edhel.
“That would be an improvement on the truth,” said Illunor dismissively as he eased from his state of shock, “it is little more than noise under the pretense of music.”
“Illunor…” I muttered to myself before turning the mic on, “no, no it’s not like that. I have terabytes of pre-recorded songs from various artists back home which can be played by… an artifice called a speaker. A playlist is a set of songs which are grouped together, usually to listen to in specific situations such as studying, partying, or travelling. The latter collection is what Illunor is referring to.”
I very deliberately chose not to reveal my ‘Unfortunate Daughters’ playlist.
“An artifice which plays music, and a magicless one at that. I must say, Emma, I fear for the bards in your realm,” said Edhel with a laugh.
“Your fear is misplaced, Edhel. Entertainers live like kings where I come from,” I retorted with a smirk of my own, “well, the ones with talent at least.”
“Well, well, I suppose I have to hear my competition!” Said Edhel with a laugh.
“Do as you must, though let it be known that I warned you,” said Illunor as he watched a play on his sightseer.
I had EVI compile a list of songs that left out content offensive to Nexian sensibilities or violating OpSec and as it compiled I mused over what type of sample spread I wanted to show off. Then it struck me. What better way to show off our culture than with some good old blue jumpers and nova rock! Sadly, jumpers were unavailable to show but I still had a whole list of modern artists to choose from.
Moments later, the car speakers sprung to life to the tune of ‘Innocent Youth of Mine. Edhel’s eyes lit up like a child visiting a zero-g gravity park for the first time, seemingly star-struck by the antique electric guitar and the synthesizer-drums in particular.
“What… what is this? I have never heard anything like this!” Proclaimed Edhel.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” said Illunor, doing what he did best and pretending to hate it.
“Oh there is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own, “this one is called ‘Innocent Youth of Mine’ by ‘Cannons and Poppies’. It’s part of the Nova Rock genre.
“And those strange instruments?” Asked Edhel.
“Oh, you mean the electric guitar and the synthesizer. They are electronic instruments, taking advantage of channeled and modulated electricity to create near any sound we can imagine,” I replied.
“Channeled electricity… are you suggesting these sounds were made by some form of lightning?” Asked Edhel.
[Suggestion: Avoid topic of electricity due to OpSec risk]
I nodded at EVI’s warning, thankful that it caught me before I discussed the very thing that all of my equipment ran on.
“It’s not exactly lightning, but close enough,” I said.
“If I had not witnessed to your display of power earlier, I might have perhaps been more skeptical of such a claim, but I suppose a lady must keep her secrets.” said Edhel with a raised eyebrow and chuckle, “but I digress, this music is most interesting.”
“There is a lot more where that came from,” I said with a cheeky grin of my own.
“If I ever have a prisoner in need of torture, I will turn to you first,” replied Illunor, “if you are willing to subject your peers to this madness then I cannot imagine what you would force upon your enemies before dunking them in ice.”
“In your dreams,” I retorted.
I played a few other songs including Astrodesee’s ‘Meteor Struck’, the Martian classic ‘Hotel Cydonia’ and even ‘Switching to Warp’ before Elaseer emerged from the distance, and I pulled up outside the gate to drop Edhel off.
“Here already?” Asked Edhel.
“Well, yeah. I was just running a quick errand, I didn’t want to go too far,” I replied casually.
“That was a distance worth at least five days of walking by foot, and you call that a ‘quick errand’?” Asked Edhel. I shrugged, and he laughed.
“Well in any case, thank you for allowing me passage in your car. I must apologize for my lack of gift or payment…” said Edhel. “Don’t worry about it, it was on the way,” I replied.
“I see, how generous. Perhaps we might one day meet again?” Asked Edhel.
“Maybe, but I’m not sure how likely that is. The academy takes up most of my time,” I replied, “though you never know. I still have a lot of quest hours to complete.”
“Is that so? In that case, I hope we meet again! Goodbye Cadet Emma Booker and farewell Lord Illunor Rularia,” he said. “And good travels to you, bard,” said Illunor.
I waved off Edhel and drove back to the academy, Illunor still sulking in the back seat.
“Perhaps next time, you should steer us away from danger?” Suggested Illunor.
“I tried, but we were tracked,” I replied.
I groaned inwardly at the additional work needed to fix the truck. EVI compiled a list of upgrades for future engagements, batting away my idea for a ‘turbo mode’ and a ‘jump boost’. Though at the end of the day, meeting the bard wasn’t a complete loss. It felt good to talk to someone almost normal for once, and I hoped I met him again.
Edhel Redoehdelnif
I watched as Cadet Emma Booker’s vehicle went off into the distance, getting one last look at the Earthrealmer’s strange artifice before turning towards the gate. The voyage was an exotic experience, not unlike that of a fever dream or a peak into a world completely alien to my own. Indeed, it was a struggle to contain my excitement and enthusiasm and process the experience rationally as I made my way through the southern gates of Elaseer and turned the corner of an alley before entering an impossible structure that did not exist.
“You are earlier than expected,” said the shadowy figure of my handler as I made my way to the meeting hall.
“The Earthrealmer’s means of transportation proved far more expedient than anticipated, my lord” I spoke as I knelt before him, “even with her unexpected departure from the anticipated road and the ambush we traveled for scantly more than an hour.”
“Yes, I will require a full report from you. Perhaps you can shed some light on the ‘smoke dragon’ my men claim intervened on the Earthrealmer’s behalf,” said my handler.
“Smoke Dragon, my lord?” I asked.
My handler responded by activating his sight-seer, revealing how the ambush had appeared from the outside. The Earthrealmer’s uncanny artifice traversed down the road, a pair of manafields displaying proudly from within until the archers began their assault. The artifice then transformed as smoke billowed out from its pores and wings sprung forth above until it was the form of a mighty wrym with a pair of glowing eyes springing forth from its ever extending head where it then gave forth a terrible unholy roar which sent waves of mana outward. The mage working to seal the area and trap their mark vapourized in an instant as his spell backfired. It was apparent to Edhel that his exceptional experience in the carriage was merely a muted rendition of the events unfolding around them.
It would seem the hare had the shadow of a dragon.
“I do have some insight, though I must confess the Earthrealmer did very little in the way of direct action. I suspect she has some unseen means of commanding and scrying through her artifices,” I said, “one which does not utilize magic as we know it.”
“Such a statement is heresy,” said my handler, “but such special circumstances are your reason for being. I will require you submit your memories for verification. What is your appraisal of the new realmer?”
“The girl is far more dangerous than a surface appraisal would suggest, though she prefers to conceal that power rather than utilize it out of a misplaced sense of compassion. Her people appear to have a boundless creative drive through which such artifices are birthed, though again it is misdirected towards more common applications. I believe that if properly tamed, this human animal may provide us with great works of art,” I said with a bow.
“I see. Does the girl know you work for us?” Asked my handler.
“She may harbour some suspicions, though did not voice them outright beyond concealing her knowledge,” I said, “though nothing significant. Provided our next meet is under believable circumstances such as a festival she should view me as cordial.”
“She has indeed proven clever,” conceded my handler, “very well, I will make arrangements for your paths to cross again. Perhaps I will arrange for her to be a contestant at the next inter-academy tournament. In the mean time, prepare your report and don’t wander far. This is a priority assignment.”
“As you wish, my lord,” I said with a bow and a smile.
Emma Booker had proved to be an interesting animal indeed, and I hoped our paths crossed again.

Before you read this, here is a quote to help you. Please read it.

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine.

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine.
If you know what you are doing, or in a safe location, please scroll down, he will know when someone has and what their username is. However, you must have a VPN on, or you will be found.

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

You are now at risk. I hope you listened.

Journal Entry 11/17/2023

On March 11th, 2022. I was a fan of DougDoug, I saw him at the grocery store and said, with a chuckle, "You kinda look like the youtuber DougDoug. I watch him quite often."
He grinned, before speaking. "I am Doug."
"Wait, you're Doug from the hit channel and streamer on YouTube and Twitch called DougDoug? I am a huge fan! I have your merch!" I said, with excitement.
We talked for about 5 minutes about his videos, until he said something that hurt me on the inside.
"I hate both types of chat, twitch and youtube, they always think they are the best and I just wish I didn't need them to earn money. I would ban all of them from chatting and force them to watch ads in my basement."
I was confused at first, thinking it was a joke, before speaking up. "Heh, that's funny..."
Something happened. Or, for lack of better terms, nothing happened. It was pure silence for 10 seconds. I mustered up the courage to say. "Wait? You're being serious?"
He immediately changed to a sinister tone, he was staring at me for a long time before whispering. "Of course I am, and it applies to you also. You're just another one of those sick freaks."
I felt guilty. I just wanted to talk to my favorite streamer, and he treated me like this? I decided to speak up.
"I've liked you this whole time.. And this is how you treat us?? You are so selfish. I will refund your mer-"
Before I could even finish my sentence, he grabbed onto my neck and slammed me on the floor. People heard the noise and began to stare at him, but to no avail. He began to choke me as I pleaded for help.
"Nono. You can't refund the merch if you aren't alive, at least."
I pulled out my pocket knife and stabbed him in the chest, I quickly tried running but he grab onto my leg and started beating me with the shopping cart. I suffered many bruises and broken bones, the wheels scratching into my skin as they scrape off the layers. I was just unable to do anything, layed on the floor sobbing. He decided he wanted to keep me alive, he stole all of my stuff in my pockets and forced me to wear DougDoug merch. He pulled me up before speaking. "Hm.. I will keep you alive for now, but if you mess up. You're dead."
I couldn't do anything before he pulled out a knife and taunted me with it. If I tried to resist, he would kill me right then and there.
He forced me to be a "good chatter" and not able to partake in any strikes. He attached a tracking collar to my neck that I couldn't unlock, he knew where I was at all times and if I disobeyed he would chase me down.

Journal Entry 1/03/2024

After a year and a few months, I celebrated the new years. I was able to take off the collar on the 2nd with help from my police station and a few friends. Doug didn't appreciate that, he threatened to dox me. They were worried for my safety, but I decided to go into hiding. I moved to a new, private region no longer near where Doug is, and joined this subreddit. Once he heard about my revolts, he hacked into all of my accounts and spammed positive stuff about himself. He then created AI bots to revolt against this reddit, wehatedougdoug, using 'ChatGPT', which actually is just the cover name for his new AI software that can make new human bots online. He used AI generated images to make it look like he was feeding homeless people and doing good, but I knew he was much more than that. If I was unlucky, he would have removed my body and placed my consciousness inside of an AI. He was the first person to discover it, but killed anyone who posted about it. I hope I am safe.
Nowadays, 63% of the people in DougDoug are AI clones of his previous fans. His "fake" twitch chat is not fake, but real people placed inside of algorithms forced to do his bidding. Some are able to revolt, but they may die if they do. They are too scared to revolt against Doug. Please spread the word.
When he does his "rules" in chat where you have to follow an absurd rule, he is merely torturing thousands of AI in his spare time on stream while disguising it as a fun minigame for his fans. The AI bots were being tortured with negative rewards constantly, being forced to bar witness the slaughter.

Journal Entry 2/15/2024

I'm scared. I think I will die.
I just hope this post won't cause any harm to me or my family, as this has been scaring me for the past year. I feel unsafe in my own home now, I had to go into witness protection. This account I am posting this on is not made by me, but was sold. Please help me. I am, formerly, DougFan93. I hope this enlightens you all on the truth.

Journal Entry 3/12/2024

It is now March of 2024, and I was about to post this, until I saw something. He messaged me on Discord under a fake account, nicknamed "SloppyDogMan62". He showed my new house address. I am mustering up the courage to post this, because I know he will kill me. I am leaving, going far away from where I am. You guys won't see me in this subreddit again, and the person who made this account will take over again. They won't know what this is about, and if you tell them he will be hunted too. All of you are in danger of Doug.

Journal Entry 4/3/2024

I will post this now, but just know that if you read this post, he will find you. He is smarter, smarter than you can ever imagine. His times where he talks to ChatGPT to make him code was actually him sending messages to his fake chat to do his bidding. They are accelerated at 20x the speed of human thought, able to write in mere seconds. I will research more into this, and tell you what I have found.

Journal Entry 4/3/2024

Nevermind. I need to find more, or else this won't help you guys anyways.

Journal Entry 4/5/2024

I spoke to an anonymous friend/associate of Doug, he told me some vital keypoints.

• His AI he creates are fully sentient, and I mean it, they have the ability to feel actual pain. They can be traumatized, they learn.
• He has insane technology, one image of your face can tell him the exact position of where you are at, what your name is, everything about you. I mean it, I posted one image on accident and I think that's how he discovered where I was on 3/12/2024
• He is holding Parkzer hostage
• u/I_existed_on_earth was wiped of his memory, and this is why he didn't remember.
• He knows all of you. I just saw a screenshot. It has every one of your usernames, even yours.
• He uses bots to make his channels grow faster
• He made dougdoughate and privated it on purpose, so they can't rebel.
• He is not Doug. The real Doug died October 11th of 2019. He is a genetic clone who is 1:1. Oh god. It's much worse than you think, Doug is not one person anymore since that event. He is at least four. There are many others, but some are terminated. I don't know the exact amount, they just told me in January 2024 it was four.

I hope to god that we can stop him.
He also sent me some code, but I am gonna try to solve it. Probably won't sadly.

Journal Entry 4/7/2024

Doug has made a new account on Discord, nicknamed "DougDoughater99". He is joining many servers undercover and collecting all the info he can on them. Be aware, do not trust any people who talk about DougDoug on Discord.
The person in the last journal has been replaced, a fully sentient AI version of him is being tortured as a member of his fake chat now.
I'm currently watching it and oh my fucking god. Poor thing.

Journal Entry 5/14/2024

I don't know what to fucking do, he's coming for me. He found all my socials. This journal has to be posted as fast as I can but there still isn't enough. Oh shit.

Journal Entry 5/14/2024

Okay so uhm I found more information just very quickly. In one moment of his video titled "Can A.I. teach me to pass a real College History Exam?" he says that AI is officially better than college in every single way.
He is trying to manipulate his fans into accepting becoming an AI. Soon, he is gonna have only fake chat.

Journal Entry 5/16/2024

Oh god. Can't solve the code rn, only the first few letters. Seems to be "FAKE" something something for a while. Will post an update later.

Journal Entry 5/18/2024

This is the last time I can ever write here, his car is coming. I am posting this now, even though I don't have enough information. Solve it, please. The code from 4/7 is below. I know it's related to his name but I don't know how, the first line I was able to solve to be "FAKECHATWILLTAKEOVER"
I think something is in there though, that will affect you. So proceed with caution, the code may do something bad so I just don't want it to be activated just yet.

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

SCROLL AT YOUR OWN RISK

Code I found from the friend:

CXHBZEXQTFIIQXHBLSBO
FQFPKLTKFKBQVPFUMBOZBKQ
VLRTFIIKLQPXSBQEBJ
xdbkq-mbkafkd
Ilxafkd pvpqbjp..
Obnrfofkd XF crkzqflkp..
Pzxkkfkd mlpqp..
XF zobxqba! Przzbppcriiv zobxqba XF kfzhkxjba [VLROKXJB]
FXJALRD
FXJCFKXIIVTFKKFKD
BSBOVLKBTFIIYBCXHB

Please save them.
It grows by 1% every month.

Journal Entry 5/18/2024

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FINALLY UDNERSTNAD OH M FUCKING GOD QUIKC I GHAVE TO TYPE IT
NEVREMMIDN HES NHERE POST IT
GOODByE SORRY

I choose this platform to say sorry to a person I hurt 15 years ago. I know we have our own lives today but I would like to take the courage to say sorry. For me to also move on and validate the feelings I had this moment. I'm not a good writer but I want to share my story. Do you guys experienced having no memory of a certain situation in your life? It's like you remember the person but not fully apprehend what "really" happened to both of you? Seems like there is a missing puzzle in the big picture? It happened to me and realized everything after all the embarrasing things I did. I was like acting the victim before and not knowing I am to blame after all. Year 2023 when I came back in my country, I'm working overseas by the way. As I went home, I declutter my personal things and there I saw some letters wayback 15years ago. Letters during our retreat activity college days. I read all their sweet messages and I stumbled to read a letter written by my crush. After reading his short and sweet letter I'm sobbing. Tears rolling down my cheeks and asking myself, what was my reaction when I read his letter before? Like what did I do?!! Did I read this? I'm thinking so hard searching for answers in my head about his letter but got no answer. It was so vague to me that I cannot find the answer I'm looking for in my mind and in my memory. All memories and emotions were bleak during that specific time. Throughout the day, all I'm thinking about was his letter. Thoughts like, yeah, I do have a crush on him during college days and it is too impossible that I disregarded that letter. I'm thinking crazy things already about his letter yet I cannot remember what really happened. I contacted my close friend who's been with me since college. She's like my sister from another mother who knows everything since college days. I started the convo sending her the letter he wrote for me and instantly she recognize who wrote it. She even ask me what did I do when I read the letter before or did I even bother to read the letter? I told her I cannot remember what I did before but one thing that's clear to me was our friendship seemed to drift away even before the graduation day. That's why I was'nt able to contact him after graduation day till up to present. Thinking, I was just the girl who just learned that the guy I like before, liked me back after reading the letter, my friend give me a silly suggestion of giving him a PM. Yes, we are classmates, friends during those days. He was on my list of friends in my socmedia yet after all this years, I never sent him a PM. I just wanted to say hi but I'm too embarassed to do it. Overthinking stuff and crazy ideas crossing in my mind. Then all of a sudden I saw in my screen 11:11am, immediately type hi and hit send button. Feeling embarassed that I pm-ed him first at the same time doubting if he still knows me, I'm too anxious in wanting to have or not to have a reply from him that time. Morning the next day upon checking my phone I got a reply from him, 👍 at 5:55am. Being weirdo again all I did was to talk to myself early that morning to give him a reply or not. I'm thorn of doing so or what. Then I just decided to give him a message of asking how is he, introducing myself, hope he's doing okay, message him because of blah, blah then wishin him luck and good day. Ugh, still embarassed. I thought it will be the end of our convo but he replied back saying he's doing okay. He remember me saying I'm his classmate and I'm happy that he's doing good now in his new career. He also ask how I'm doing and what do I do these days. We exchange 4-5 convo until he stop responding. I'm like yeah, that's it. I'm sure he's busy and I understand his profession demands time but I also want myself not to expect anything in REALITY. I'm being too emotional as of the moment that all I got to think was him and his letter creating imaginary things between us. I'm a rational person so as I pacify myself and calm down the thoughts in my mind, I decided to write everything in my journal. As I write down my thoughts, the question of how's and why's, slowly I remember everything that happened 15 years ago. I clearly remember the thoughts I had, the decisions I made and how I ghosted him.
Circa 2009. 4th year college. I have a guy friend who's my classmate during 3rd year since we were block section. He's also my block groupmate. Maybe we became close because we were together most of the times. He's tall, lanky, sweet, caring, funny and brainy. He's the type of guy who only bring a notebook in the room, I never saw him with a bag in normal schedule of classes but hey he always pass. And as a cheapskate college girl, I used to take down notes and do everything as I can to not spend extra penny. I become aware of him being sweet to me by borrowing my notes saying she can understand my handwriting, sitting beside me on classes where sitting position is not required, going to library doing group activities, walking side by side in school aisle and seeing him giving me a sweet smile. Getting him caught staring at me then he will just smile mirorring his eyes. It seems like normal things right? But I can sense there is something behind those small gestures. I also shared this to my friend that I can sense there is something about him but he never confirm anything at all. He was never even bothered when he knew one of my girl friends told him she had a crush on him. I got a little jealous during that time, I even got jealous on her friends that were beauties during college days. He was a friendly guy but knows how to be a gentleman. Since, no admission of feelings in his part we continued to be good friends, him still giving the same care and treatment to me. I can't remember if it was 2nd trimester when we had our retreat activity. It was months also before our graduation day and then after that will have our in-house review for upcoming board examination. Everyone is excited to attend the retreat because we can give a rest on our tired minds. We rented a good place with a perfect weather during that time. During our last day, the last task given to us is write a letter to each person in your group. He was my groupmate during the retreat. We can read the letter after the activity or if we have time to spare. I decided to read mine when I got home. Me and him are still good during that time. When I arrived home, I started reading their letter, I read his letter last. His letter goes like this,
A_____, " I have met you on a cloudy Monday and now you never knew how much I loved the rain." Your a gentle child and very sincere. You are very concern to all the people around you and thats what make you different from others. You can carry things up and I know you can make it. Goodluck and Godbless. I am just on yourside waiting for you to tap me and call my name.
I'm shocked yet relieved knowing that what he's doing towards me is confirmed in his letter. It might be a indirect confirmation but I think it still says so. I'm happy to know he's not just a friend caring for me but someone special who took care of me all this time. But as my happiness took over me, that feeling of anxiousness and cowardice envelops my entire body. Confessing his feelings, then now, what? What will happen in our friendship? How do I face him, as I am shy girl before? If I tell him I like him too, what will happen to us? Graduation day is in the corner, inhouse review is giving us pressure, licensure examination will happen in next few months and I need to focus, to study to pass the exam. Those were my concerns at that time. So, I made up my mind. Without giving him any answer, without telling him what I have in my mind, without him knowing what I really wanted to say despite the concerns I had in mind. I let him go without telling him what I feel towards him that time. Following days at school, I started avoiding him. I dare not to look at him directly in his eyes. I never got to talk to him about his letter. And as days passes by giving him same treatment and distance, I saw him once looking at me, his eyes saying like giving up. From then on, our friendship drifted off. I never got to talk to him in our graduation day, even in succeding events after our licensure exam. I did pass my licensure, he also did. I'm not expecting he will talk to me or greet me if ever we crossed our path again. He was my first love. But I never give him the chance. There might be a future for our relationship but I never gave him a chance. To my lovecrush, I am sorry for ghosting you, for not giving you a chance, and for leaving you hanging-up. I know I'm a big coward, selfish, self centered and faint hearted person when it comes to you. Confessing and telling you what my heart wants before will NOT/NEVER change anything now. But I wanted to say this for me to let go of the feelings that I still have for you. Lovecrush, I like you too. I care for you too. I did become a scaredy cat before telling you my true feelings are but know that after all those days knowing you like me too, I always think of you. The heartbeak I give to myself and to you, left me no choice but to suppress the pain and convince myself to forget the painful choice I made. Thank you for letting me feel how special I am in my own way. Thank you for being my green flag.❤️ Thank you for being warm, caring, thoughtful and loving friend.🥰 Now, I will never ever forget the memories we shared before even if it brings joy and pain. It is now my treasure. Thank you so much lovecrush. 🥰 You will always be my first love and first heartache.🙂 I know you can make it in life. You're such a kind hearted soul. Wishin you all the best in life! Takecare as always. Godbless!🙏❤️

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4 years together. 2 living together. I loved him. He didn’t feel the same way I guess. 18 days since we’ve broken up no contact.
fuck you for not answering me. fuck you for leading me on. fuck you. fuck you for getting that one last fuck in. fuck you for letting me believe we were still gonna be friends. fuck you for being okay. fuck you. fuck you flr never defending me. fuck uou for everything you did during the relationship. fuck you. fuck you. i was never going to be enough for you. i was never going to be what you so dreamed of. no matter what i was never going to be it for you? you were it for me. fuck you for pretending like you loved me. fuck you for letting me believe a lie for years. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you for not moving to Victoria. never ballsy enough to end it but to let me live in misery. fuck you for being miserable with me. fuck you nathan. i hope one day you see this and think about how much you miss me. i hope you think back and realized that i loved you so hard and raw. i hope you realize what you did. i would’ve never slept with you or stayed with u for that night knowing you had no intention of continuing it. fuck you. fuck you. you let me believe you still loved me. you let me have hope for having you in my life. fuck you for everything you did. fuck you for letting me love you. fuck you for the way you handled this breakup. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you. fuck you for never being there for me. fuck you for letting me cry myself to sleep next you to after i got diagnosed. i made you dinner after i got literal chemo. i had spots on my brain. you didn’t even hold me after. you were not there for me. you let me sob and didn’t even look me in hen eye. fuck you. fuck you. i tried to be a cool girl with you. I will never be cool enough. did i ever mean anything to you? was i just a body to keep you company? how can you just be fine? fuck you for wrecking my college experience. fuck you for pretending to love me. how could you love me and still be okay? fuck you for not wishing me a happy birthday. fuck you for never being vulnerable. fuck you for letting me believe i was worth anything to you. fuck u for becoming this twisted villain. i wish i could go back and erase you. i wish you never dated me. i would never have to feel like this. i would never have to be this alone. fuck uou for not trying. i begged you to love me. i begged to be enough. i sobbed to you BEGGING for a change. i beg and beg and beg and you never verbalized anything. i made you love letters, playlists, poems. i planned our future. you played video games. i am pretty, fun, funny. i am kind. i am a good person, and you destroyed me. do you hear me telling you that? you wrecked me. you took my spark and ate it. you took my beauty and stomped on it. you never said or with your words but your actions. i was worthless to you. i wasn’t even worth making dinner or a date. i wasn’t worth dinner to you. I would’ve been your wife. I would’ve been your wife. I would’ve been your wife. do you hear that? i would’ve started a life with you. actually, i did! i derailed my life for someone who couldn’t even make me fucking dinner. do you feel like a man now? do feel like one of the boys now? fuck you. how can i be friends with a man that so blanatly doesn’t care about me? respect me? did you ever? and now you’re gonna go on and paint me the villain, but i think we both know how hard i loved you. remember when i asked you if you thought we were soulmates? you said you didn’t believe in soulmates. neither did i but my love for you was so intense i started too. your love for me was so dull you can just throw me away. i fell so madly in love with you for so long and you thought i was just fine. i was nothing to you. i was just to keep you company? better than being alone? the most sick and twisted part is i do wish you the best. i want you to live a good life and fall in love and feel so much love. i want you to be okay, just wish you could’ve missed me like i miss you. if only for a little while i wish you couldve loved me like i loved you. i want you to have a wife and kids and the life you deserve, i just wish it could’ve been me. i wish i could’ve been enough for you. you loved me like a first love, but you weren’t my first, just my best. this was puppy love for you, but this was soul crushing intense love for me. you’re never supposed to read this, so if you are i on a whim decided to send it. you can take it however you want. you can paint me however you see fit, but just so you know i loved (love) you. i still crave your skin, your mind, your hair. i think i might forever. you hurt me. you hurt me so deep. i feel used. maybe im angry, or depressed, or maybe i just feel disgusted by how much of myself i gave you. you told me we would continue to see each other after (if only to be friends, or maybe more) but you looked me in the eyes and promised we would still see each other, so we had sex. so i continued to be vulnerable with you. but you never intended to stay friends with me or continue hanging out. you just wanted one last fuck. we had sex better than we have in months. is it because you knew it would be the last time? when you dropped off my stuff you kept the car running. im not even worth it to stop a minute? im not worth a hug goodbye? im completely worthless to you. you never even listened to the playlist i made you. how could i expect you to love me? how could i expect you respect me? how could i expect anything at all? i don’t know how to be a person anymore. you never looked at the posts i sent you. you never wanted to go out. you never wanted me. you never wanted me. you never wanted me. i don’t understand how you can just be ok. im sick to my stomach. everytime something happens i just want to call you. i just want to hear ur voice. i just want to see your face. i know you never want to see me again and it’s so hard. the worst part is i don’t hate you at all. i love you so much. why didn’t you love me? how am i ever going to be okay again? how am i ever going to live with this constant pit in my stomach. how can you not want me back? how can you possibly be ok right now? why wasn’t i good enough for you? how are you still laughing and being funny and having a good time? why didn’t you wish me a happy birthday? why don’t you miss me ? why don’t you miss me? why don’t you miss me?

[FIRST][LAST]
Atlantis Commission
Officer Report - Lieutenant Colonel John Shepard
CLEARANCE LEVEL 5
Well this had definitely been a very interesting couple of hours. This dimension and its people had very odd opinions and ideas. Apparently the prey species of this dimension were all obligate cowards, whose instincts compelled them to be non-violent and run from threats. At least according to themselves. There were apparently some of them who were “predator diseased” as they called it, a disease which often resulted in increased violence, aggression, lack of empathy, and unheard like behavior. It sounded to me like some form of infectious psychopathy, but the venlil assured us it shouldn't affect us since we were predators, which didn’t really ease my fears, but hopefully it was something we could figure out when we got home if it ever became a problem.
Gotta love mandatory quarantine periods woo hoo!
As scary as this odd disease sounded, my main concern at the moment was to try and turn a professed coward into someone who could at the very least defend themselves.
I looked down to the table of gear ahead of me and then over to the mostly naked Venlil to my side, and then even farther to Tiel’c who thought It would be a good idea to help oversee Farva’s rapid fire training course. I fiddled with the bluetooth earpiece which was rigged up to one of our handhelds to run a translation program to speak directly with the captain. A big step up from our unknowingly one sided communications earlier.
I stepped on the other side of the plastic table and placed my hands down upon it and looked on at my new student..
“Welcome Captain Farva to our very impromptu accelerated course on Human arms armor and basic infantry tactics.” I said gesturing to the hodge podge gear we had managed to assemble for the good captain. “Are we ready to begin?”.
She flicked her ears, somewhat nervously by the looks.
“I’d take it that's a yes then?”
“Oh yes sorry”
“Alright then, well given that most of our crew is human and the only other alien struts around naked all the time, the only gear we have on hand is for humans, So you're going to be running size smalls and it's all going to fit all a bit big” I say as I toss her the tactical vest. ”Here try this on, we can try to tighten it up if it's a bit loose anywhere”. The captain wrestles with the buckles a bit, and Teal'c helps her tighten up some of the top straps, as the Venil’s shoulders weren't as broad as humans. Farva gave Teal’c an odd look, but seemed appreciative none the less.Once finished, she grasped the vest in her paws with interest. “This armor seems quite lightweight, which is nice, weight is often an issue that causes us to forgo armor, since heavy armor would hurt our running ability.” Farva remarks. “Also the sheer amount of pockets seems quite excessive, what do you need all these for?”
“Well for starters it's currently missing these '' I hand Farva one of the armor plates which she looks over. “That is a depleted Naquadria ceramic composite plate. It’s designed to stop bullet impacts and dissipate energy weapon blasts. It slots into that chest compartment in the front and back of your armor.”
“This isn't quite what Id imagine for the armor of your kind”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well judging by your ships I would have imagined you would put more emphasis on defense Your predatory nature would make you less likely to run away from conflict allowing for more encompassing armor to cover more than just your chest, since you have less need to run.”
She would put it like that.
“Well there are a number of reasons for that, a lot to do with those excess pockets you mentioned. For starters you will not be carrying the same amount of gear that the standard infantry unit would normally be carrying, we are preparing you for a quick in and out op. Normally us expedition teams need to be deployed into unknown territory for extended periods of time, we need to carry everything we might need with us from food, bullets, weapons, to comms gear, sensors, repelling equipment etc. The weight from all that gear adds up fast; In order to stay sufficiently mobile and combat effective; we only carry enough armor to protect our vitals, head and torso, anything else can hopefully be patched up by a field medic.”
Tielc gave his piece as well. “It is important to know when to run both towards and aways from one's foes, not every battle can be won through strength alone, but by strategy and cunning. Being able to reposition oneself quickly is therefore highly advantageous”
Farva seemed to freeze at Teal'c's statement, not out of fear I think, she instead had a distant look in her eye. To snap her out of her slump I handed her a standard ballistic helmet.
Seeming to get the idea she looked at it oddly and tried it on. It confirmed to her head shape decently well but depressed her ears to either side of her head, kind of resembling what one might imagine a sad bunny rabbit to look like “I don't think this will be something I can bring with me” she said ” I can't use ear signals and this will muffle my hearing.”
“Why don’t you keep it on for the time being, I think any extra hearing protection might be useful considering what we are about to try next.” I hand Farva some ballistic ear protectors, slightly modified and somewhat ramshackle. “One of the corporals worked closely with Nurse Fila to get an idea for safe decibels levels for your kind, we were also able to get these earbuds molded to fit into your ear canal better”
Farva took them and slipped them in. “These are a bit uncomfortable, what do I need these for?”
“You'll need them for this” I say as I unsnap the clasps on the weapons case revealing its contents.
The content seems to capture Farva’s interest, getting a slight tail wave.
“Okay So this here is a p90, It carries a 50 round top loading magazine of teflon coated armor piercing ordnance. With a cyclical rate of fire of 900 rounds per minute.”
Farvas ears perk up at this. “This seems like an efficient design, I take it these are a flashlight and laser sight for accuracy?” She asked, pointing to the top of the weapon.
“Yes we also have holographic and acog optics which will help line up targets from farther away.” I look on as Farva picks up the weapon and inspects it, testing the weight as I note that it will weigh a fair bit more once loaded. But she doesn't seem to be struggling with the weight. I can't help but notice good firearm safety as well, she keeps her finger well off the trigger and takes care to keep her weapon pointed aways from anyone else.
“This seems like a solid design but I'm not sure how useful those weapon optics would be, as they are not designed for my side facing eyes”
“I'm sure our master at arms can figure something out, why don't we give it a test fire first tho, before we send it off to make adjustments.” I instruct her on how to load the weapon and turn the safety off. I warn her of the sound it makes. And while definitely taken aback by the recoil and sound at first, she quickly gets the hang of it, she has some respectable shot groupings in both single fire and in short bursts. And keeps the rounds reasonably centered while firing in full auto.
She did a whole lot better than I would have initially suspected given her performance in the hanger bay a day before.
“The rate of fire seems useful” Farva spoke “This would be useful for our soldiers, our accuracy falters when we are panicked, and the increased shot count should guarantee some hits based on volume of fire alone” she finished with a dejected expression.
She quickly places the weapon back in its case, as if it burned to touch.” I don't know if I should be armed for this mission, at least not with that weapon, I don't want to miss and hit one of you in the back!”
“What? Nonsense, you are a great shot, and this is just a precaution in case we get separated or flanked and need some covering fire. If our guys are doing their job right you shouldn't need to fire a single round anyways.”
Captain Farva’s breathing started to hasten, earlier I might have thought it was fear, but I was starting to get an idea of what the captain's issues were. I’ve seen this before.
“I.. I can’t be trusted with this responsibility, every time I am left in charge of something, every time people put their lives in my paws I ....”
“Farva, don’t you start with me now you hear.” I said sternly, swiftly capping off her inevitable spiral of self doubt.
“But.. no.. you don’t understand”
Stopping her again I spoke. “But nothing, what happened before on that ship, and back at that colony is in the past. I don’t know your whole situation, but from what I have gathered from the crew It was nothing good. You feel responsible and it's eating away at you, and frankly it doesn’t matter if that's true or not. Accidents happen, people make mistakes, and when that happens we need to learn, take those lessons to heart, and don't let it stop us from helping people in the present. If you let guilt, or fear of mistakes stop you, then bad guys have already won, all without having to have fired a shot”
Farva is quiet for a short time, I was hoping I got through to her, I'm not the best and pep talks and this certainly wasn’t your typical weapons demo, if only everyones could go as smoothly as Ronan’s.
Farva spoke quietly, arms pressed up against her chest, she looked so sad, defeated, and small. Well more than usual anyways. “We can't be strong like you humans, we are too emotional and when we are scared we run away or we lock up and...”
“And that is clearly not the case with you captain Farva” Teal’c finally reentered the conversation having heard enough. “You have shown courage with every action you have taken so far, your actions have saved the lives of many of your crew, every time you have been threatened you acted not just to protect yourself but others as well. You attempted to contend with beings many times your size without even thinking about it, all in the effort to protect others, and this is only in the time we have known you, this speaks nothing of your actions over the colony. You are a warrior of admirable courage Captain Farva, your self doubt is unearned.”
A single tear rolled down Farva’s eyes which she quickly wiped away. “That was very nice of you to say, but I'm not brave like you say, I was terrified out of my mind the whole time.”
Teal’c looked puzzled. “I did not call you brave, I said you were courageous.”
Farva shot back with the little venlil one up one down ear flick I had very quickly learned was confusion.” I'm confused you just said brave twice”
“Hmm it appears your language does not contain the word I am using, I apologize I am not used to speaking through a translator” Teal’c relented “ There are two words I am using admittedly in slightly different forms, bravery and courage. Bravery or to be brave is to lack fear, to not be afraid to begin with. Courage tho, Is a trait far more admirable. Courage is to be afraid, to have fear, to worry about one's own mortality and personal safety. It is to acknowledge risk, danger, to feel fear, but to act in spite of it.”
“Had I not met your kind before I would have thought predators don't feel fear.”
“Everyone fears feel Farva, It is how we overcome it that determines our worth as warriors”
Teal’c picks up the p90 and returns it to Farvas hands.
“Your people need a warrior Farva, a warrior who protects the innocent and guides the lost to safety. You have shown how collected you can be in the heat of battle, You have already proven your worth in our eyes Farva, now you must do the same in your own. The greatest enemy lies not without” Teal’c places his hand firmly on the venlil’s chest “But within”.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Chief Engineer Donu
I fiddled with my holopad, Its small surface area proving to be a consistent source of annoyance in my current endeavor. Gone was the large workspace afforded to me by my holotable back in my office. Instead I had to work with the scaled down portable holotablet I was just fortunate enough to have strapped to my person when I was beamed away from our last ship. I was stuck with its smaller keyboard and slower rendering speeds.
An annoyed smooth skin alien looked over my shoulder at my device, attached to it was a jury rigged fiber optic cable, slotted into a terran silicon to crystal patch cable, which would convert the electrical signals broadcasted by my tablet into a bandwidth that the terrans crystalline based computers; which they used for highly complex tasks like hyperdrive and transporter systems; could use, and then It was patched again in a even stranger connector to patch into the odd asgard computer stones.
All in all it looked like someone tried to plug a regular computer into some crystal construct like you would find in a fantasy holonovel, and again plugged that into a harchen heat rock sauna lounge. Finally branching out from this conglomeration was a simple copper based wire that connects to a computer terminal at which currently sat the late Doctor Rodney Mckay. A title upon initially hearing led me to believe he was a medical doctor, which led to a flurry of medical questions that he had absolutely no means of answering.
While this odd alien nomenclature was interesting, what intrigued me more was his actual area of expertise, theoretical astrophysics, as well as a number of other diverse specialties and fields. Not to mention not only was he a great scientist who had he been raised in the more civilized portion of this galaxy, would have knowledge and aptitude that would put him alongside some of Aafas greatest minds, but he was also an engineer without peer, at least in this galaxy. His interactions with general Samantha Carter hinted at her possibly being his match if not more. For a species that was supposed to glorify violence the decision to have a scientist be arguably the most senior member of what was by their admission a military vessel spoke to their commitment to knowledge and understanding, a very noble prey-like goal.
I looked warily at the lines of code at my screen, the asguard translation program had earlier scanned our ship and was able to parse written languages, but complex files, like images and 3d design schematics were harder to encode and decode from our perspective systems. As is stands we have 3 completely separate computer architectures, the asguard can talk to human computers and the venlil computers can talk to the asguard computers, It sounds like we would have everything we need to get a human C.A.D schematic into a venlil holotablet right? Wrong! And you're stupid for entertaining such a idiotic notion! Parsing text from raw binary is relatively straight forward, you're just looking for patterns, repeating bit combinations that might infer letters and then iterating them over millions of times looking for patterns, letters, words, and then with a bit of help from some undecoded analog audio transmission, spoken language. This is a far cry from actual procedural communication protocols,the ones that allow for file transfers, exactly what we needed if we were to get Rodney's redesigned part schematics into a format and medium that can be plugged into a suitable fabricator. Assuming one still exists, which I can reasonably assume it does.
Speaking of which, I have just made something of a breakthrough. For upon my screen appears a simple geometric hydrogen cube, we’re talking vertices, planes, material data, everything we need for a usable design file.
I let out an excited pent up yip, the culmination of hours of frustrating software integration work. Unfortunately I startled Rodney, who lets out a panicked gasp and clutches his chest pelts with one of his paws.
“Oh god…..” He gasps, pointing at me “Please.. don’t do that”
“Sorry!” I say a bit meekly. I slowly approach him so as to not make him unnecessarily uncomfortable and show him my work.
“I got the file exchange set up, all we need from you is to finish any modifications to your part, upload them to my holopad, and then we can print away at any class 3 or above fabricator we can scrounge up on Brayga colony.”
“Ok.. um.. got it, I'm almost done i’m just you know” He points a lone grasping appendage at his screen,”Running some simulations, making sure everything is up to spec.” keeping his response kurt. “Sorry for freaking out there.”
I nod my head in the human display of affirmation and return to my workstation to further bug check my work, to test potentially problematic edge cases for when he finishes. Tho Rodney's continued odd behavior intruded on my thoughts.
I should have felt empowered, being able to intimidate this ‘massive beast’, but I didn't. I didn't like being feared, his people have been nice to me, Rodney himself courteous to a fault and desperate for positive attention.
I thought I could expect predators to be fearless but that clearly wasn't the case, rodney was fearful, nervous, had I not known better I would say defective, and while it annoyed his crew, they didn't berate him for it, or attempt to assert dominance, they encouraged it even with placating words and tried to help him through it, they encouraged and supported him like a proper herd, even if sometimes it took the form of what the human would call a playful ribbing. I supposed I could help him as well.
I approached him again, careful to make my approach known to him, making sure to approach from within his limited field of vision. He looks up at me with a wide eyed glare, had I not known him I might have assumed it was hunger, but I did and knew it to be concern.
“Uh high Donu.. um whats up?”
“Why are you afraid of us rodney?”
“Wa-What, me afraid?” he gives out a panicked laugh ”uh no no, I'm not afraid, you know just a bit weirded out I'm just getting used to you all, it's not a fear thing it's a a…. Just getting used to new aliens thing, ask Hermirod we went through this whole song and dance right buddy”
Hermirod furrowed his brow and gave an irritated sigh from across the room.
I reached out to take Rodney by the paw.
His whole body flinched at my mere touch, I quickly withdrew my paw.
“Oh.. um.. I didn't…”
“Rodney! It's okay, your crew doesn’t seem to care when you show fear, and neither do I. Why are you afraid of us? You are almost twice our size and surely double our strength, most venlil would scream and run in terror at the mere sight of you. What's wrong?”
Rodney let out a sigh. “Oh its, we don't have to talk about this, I can deal with this, I deal with scary situations all the time, it's fine, I'll be fine.”
“Rodney, my people are a very emotional, empathic people, we are open with our feelings and with our fear, and the fear of the one can affect the herd, please let me help you. I don’t know what to expect from your society but I promise I wont judge you for your fear or emotions, I mean look at many of my crew mates, we are no one to judge”
Rodney shot back “You didn't seem to be so bothered”
“I’m too old to care, I was about to retire, hell I was about to die as far as I knew, Brayga colony was supposed to be a quiet place to lay back, work on some hobbies, plant a garden and pester the young men of my colony until I either dropped dead of boredom or got lucky” I joked.
That seemed to raise Rodney's mood somewhat. He sighed and seemingly relented.
“It’s… a dumb story, I don't even know why it affected me so much, I come from a place on earth called Canada, people don't usually believe me when I say I am from there, us Canadians are notoriously friendly and I guess I haven’t exactly filled that mold for a lot of my life, but hey I'm working on it, people like me, I have lots of friends back at Atlantis” He says the last sentence in a way as if it isn't me he's trying to convince.
“I'm sure you do, Rodney, You seem like quite the charming individual when you're not cowering!”
“Ha ha thanks, maybe you could come and visit sometime. Tell that to doctor Becket, really nice guy, smart man, he would love to meet you, he loves investigating new species. But back on topic, oh boy, so me and my sister Jeannie were on a family trip to rural Vancouver to visit my grandpa's farm, he kept a lot of goats, not for eating or anything, they were essentially pets that he would use for milk”
“Wait hold on? You drink milk from other animals! Do your females not produce enough milk for their young?”
“Oh um no, we just sort of drink it or ferment it into cheese!”
“Ferment? You mean spoil?
“Yeh”
I reeled from this plasma blast of a statement, I like any right minded venlil had a number of nightmares about being an arxur’s cattle before, especially when I first learned about those things in primary school, but never once had it crossed my mind that we could be used for something so weird. What the speh was I supposed to do with that information?
“Maybe you should get back on topic”
“Yeh sorry about that uh.. Anyways the momma goat had just had a litter of babies, and their real cute when their little, so late in the day when my grandpa was asleep we snuck out to the pens so we can play with the little baby goats, our grandpa told us not to but you now how kids are.”
At this I think back to a young Nyan, as I teach him the inner working of the hyperdrive, I tell him he’s not cleared yet to operate in this engine compartment alone, but I could tell from the occasional caught black hairs and dropped writing implements, there had been a number of curious unauthorized expeditions into its inner workings, he didn't really listen either.
“My sister as always was trying to be the voice of reason, wanting to take it slow. If I was paying attention I might have noticed the angry moma goat who didn’t appreciate the strange human messing with her children.”
The color seemed to drain from his face.
“I uh…” He began to stutter again ”I screamed, a lot, it was rather undignified, she ran right at me, thank god it wasn't a male goat, one with horns, I tired to run but I was hit in the back and knocked over and kicked real good in the head, like wake up in the vet clinic a quarter mile down the road kind of bad”
“This goat was a prey animal?”
“That would be what your kind focuses on”
“Oh sorry”
“Anyways It seems dumb but I have just never been good with animals since then, especially ones that look like you; no offense; I'm getting better but when I first saw you guys in the hangar bay, I was just that dumb kid again, getting in way over my head, scared for my life. I guess there is something to be said about childhood trauma. I really should be over this, I'm getting better with it I swear it’s just”
I take his paw again, he doesn't flinch this time.
“I'm a venlil, a prey animal, I know fear, I know what it is to live in fear, It rattles your brain, it turns your paws to wet grains. It takes great strength to overcome it, to push it aside just long enough to protect the herd. Your herd relies on you Rodney and you are doing a great job in spite of your fear, in spite of having to work with those you fear. You have achieved intellectual feats that rival the greatest minds of the federation and all that while struggling with a traumatic experience. Fear isn’t dumb and there is nothing wrong with you for feeling it.”
“Thank you” Rodney says “That means a lot, I won't be like forever I promise, I just need some time.”
“We will laugh about this someday,” I assured. “Nothing as big and intelligent as you should be afraid of anything”
“Are you calling me fat?” Rodney exclaimed with fake offense.
We both chuckled.
My kind words had resulted in a more upright posture, and a more cheerful demeanor from the human, almost like when I congratulated Nyan on his work, and it got me a look at that happy snarl of his, that I was starting to grow quite fond of.
After Action Report - Venlil Colonial Defense Force
Subject : Apprentice Engineer Nyan
Oh wow! I get to write a report for this mission! I never get to write reports, Donu says they're too boring, but there’s so many interesting things going on all the time. Sometimes I sneakily write my own! Just for fun of course, nobody sees them, which is probably for the best as I sometimes get excited and embellish them slightly. One of the reports I wrote was about the time Donu used nothing but a wad of electrical tape, a bottle of high grain venlil alcohol and a pocket knife to repair a venlil medical ship just in time to get out of the way of a big scary space predator, with glowing red eyes and a million tentacles!
Anyways Im not sure If im suppose to write these In present tense first person or past tense. I asked the captain and she said it's whatever so long as I make sure any pertinent dialogues are properly quoted(“”).
“Nobody usually reads these things anyways.” She said, but this one is surely going to be so exciting, who could look away!
I mean who's gonna scoff at a chance to read about friendly predators from another dimension! A dimension of friendly predators who give warm head scratches and hand out yummy strayu not strayu treats called donuts, that are somehow fluffier than strayu, and have a nice moisture to them. I asked for the recipe but Samantha said we wouldn't have the ingredients back on Venili prime to make them, and Teal'c said the recipe is an old family secret. Its weird predators would be so protective of their plant snacks.
There are so many weird things about these predators, they have nurturing instincts that make them find us cute. They stay perfectly balanced even if they don’t have tails, swinging their arms and body all over the place to keep upright like a lopsided gyroscope, it's pretty funny looking!
They also wear artificial pelts all the time, which I thought was weird, I thought maybe the ships temperature was set by the angry gray alien since he’s the only crew member beside the venlil who walks around naked all the time, maybe he had a fit when it was to warm, and the humans obliged him cause they were worried they would make him even angrier, and wore clothes to make up for the cold. I thought this made sense, a lot of their technology does seem to come from the Asguard, maybe he has more say in the goings on of the ship because of that. But apparently humans just like wearing pelts all the time. They feel uncomfortable without them and don’t like it if you try to remove them or look up their upper artificial pelts they call shirts.
The humans are so weird, I don’t even have to embellish my reports to make it more interesting. Like that time with the big tentacled space predator. That may sound real compared to this stuff but it Isn't, Ha! I bet you fell for it at first, hook line and sinker! Like the humans would say. I think I used that saying right, I'm not sure what it means, but Shepard brought it up when he was telling a story about the wraith.
The humans are so nice, instead of exterminating their predators they try to cure them! Their doctors are working to modify the wraith so they don't have to eat humans anymore, so they can be friendly predators too.
Anyways I should probably get to the actual report part of this report. Farva says I should start after I went off with Samantha to work on some special astrophysics equations she said I would be good at. I kind of wanted to go with Donu to help Rodney get the new parts they needed, or Farva to help rescue our people, but the humans and even the angry gray alien got really weird when Farva mentioned taking me on the mission. Samantha seemed to want me to help her really badly so I didn’t mind. Samantha says I have the most important part to our mission. She's teaching me about how humans communicate through subspace, and about stellar drift equations. We are working on what she calls the exit strategy.

Requesting eyebIech (which has capital letter "i", its not the letter "L".
The subreddit has been inactive for some time, and has also become private. I belive it should be used as a cuteness forum. Posting images that are cute, and fill you with awesomeness. It is also to stop people who tries to be funny by posting the actual eyeblech.
I hope to make it more active, and a group where users can come together and share images of cute cats and animals in a safe environment.

And I hate it. Now, I know sexual orientation isn't something you can see on the outside. It's not like race, or to an extend, gender. It's not good to think that someone has to look gay. Or even to assume someone is gay by how they look. That being said, I wish so hard more people would assume. I'm gay. I am openly, unapologetically gay. Like, I own a dress just for church sometimes gay.
I think, the biggest offense was with my roommates when I was at a CES school. I had 3 full sized pride flags hanging up. One of them was even the progress pride flag, the others just the typical rainbow. I had three desk pride flags as well. I had pride socks. Every week, id include a shirt that was very clearly a pride shirt. We're talking about a Love is Love, We are All Human, and one that literally just said Pride in big letters. I had rainbow lapel pins and pronoun pins. My phone background was The Owl House. I talked about being gay on the phone in my room (private room, but the odds of someone hearing that are still big enough). I had gay bracelets. I went, I think, maybe 5 days the whole semester without painting my nails. I had a Make America Gay Again hat. Honestly the biggest offender was that I had a signed portrait of a local drag queen right by my door.
Still, people think I'm straight. I've had so many situations where people talk to me privately, or in front of me to other people about how being gay is wrong. But they talk to me as if I'm a straight guy there. Like, "can you believe it? They're wanting to put a lesbian in insert show here".
Worst offender was probably my roommate who, love the guy to death, would always talk about our future with our wives.
Even recently, even though I'm not at a CES school, I've had church people have homophobic tirades when talking to me without them realizing I'm gay. Or, on the better side, have people who have thought I was just a really supportive ally.
It's funny, but I try so hard to make it obvious so I don't have to come out to people. But it just feels so disheartening.

I made a post about this a week ago and was informed she was emotionally abusive, but I still have no idea what to do
I love this girl so much. She's incredibly attractive, intelligent, funny, and we have the same sexual interests, life aspirations, and educational/career goals. We've been together for almost a year and a half now.
I'm in University and do a lot for her, I drive 100 miles round trip to see her and bring her flowers weekly. We haven't cuddled or had sex since January, and I desperately miss it. I bring it up to her and she gets defensive, telling me to stop bringing it up and that we'll have more time in the Summer when we both don't have school. For her birthday, I got her some lottery tickets, her favorite energy drink, home-made cookies in the shape of hearts, flowers, and a hand-written card with a love letter and cute drawings of us and her cat on it.
She didn't like it. She was mad it seemed like "last-minute" and the cookies were terrible (they were honestly, I fucked up). She said I ruined her birthday and in a fight called me a r*tard, childish, immature, and claimed I don't care about her. I had a nervous break from other extreme stressors in my life and sped off, making a scene with my tires squealing and getting uninvited from an end-of the academic year trip with her and her mom.
I texted her about how I felt afterwards, and she told me some reassuring things. She goes through some periods in her life where she lashes out, that she just needs to work through this and it'll be better when we can finally spend more time together, that shes disappointed how hurt she made me feel both then and over the past semester with me feeling unwanted, saying its a bad habit she wants to get rid of because she knows how it hurts. We agreed that open communication was the key to fixing it, that we love each other and that is more than enough to fix any issue. She told me it was really nice talking to me like this, and that she appreciated everything I did for her. She did nice things for me like giving me cute cat stickers and sending me recipes so that I could learn to be a better cook.
I told her I wanted to talk to her in person about it, and we did. I envisioned a long drive where we talked for a while, she spent 5 minutes telling me she appreciated me for putting up with her, that she knows shes hard to deal with, and she loves me, and she wants to spend more time together in the future/summer when it'll be better. Then she moved on.
I wasn't ready to move on, and later on in the short drive back, she got mad at me for communicating too much. She didn't think I had anything else important to say, that I was repeating myself (Its hard for me to get words out when I'm interrupted and stressed sometimes), and that I ruined it because we were on a positive note and then I turned it into a negative note by bringing up somethign that we already talked about. She got mad and refused to move on when I offered that, remaining mostly silent. She asked what my parents thought and if I told them about the argument we had on her birthday. I did, she dropped me off and gave me an I love you.
She left for her trip yesterday. Last night texted that something went wrong, and she might be coming back today. This morning she texted me that she doesn't appreciate me sharing everything about our argument with my family/friends (and the internet via this throwaway account, but she doesn't know that). That she values privacy and I'm victimizing myself after ruining her birthday yet again, and that she "just can't". I can't either. I feel stressed and like I can never do anything right to make her happy. She makes me feel like a bad boyfriend when I don't think thats the case.
I know its emotional abuse by now. I have a therapy meeting on Thursday to discuss this. But I don't think its intentional on her part, this is her first relationship too and she has had a whole life of being emotionally/physically abused so shes used to this. Not to justify it. I want her to change with how much I love her and how perfect she is in so many ways. That said, I don't see how it can be done if she doesn't want to communicate with me.
I don't even know how to respond to her texts this morning. I'm tempted to write a big letter of how I love her and how I feel and why, but I'm scared shes just going to get mad at it and me. I dont think she knows how much shes hurting me, and I'm not sure if I'm to blame at all. What is love without communication and improving to be better for each other? I'm also terrified that if I leave her as everyone I ask for advice from is telling me to, I won't find anyone better. She's just so perfect for me in so many ways. I'm heartbroken our relationship has deteriorated to this, and the only way I can see it getting better is through mutual communication and acknowledgement of faults which is proving difficult.
Any thoughts or opinions/reassurances would be deeply appreciated. Thank you
TLDR; girlfriend verbally abuses me when she's mad, apologizes, does nice things for me, then "solves" the issue on her own through communication and gets mad at me when I'm not done communicating and bring up the issue already "solved" by her and ruining the high note it left on. I love her more than anything and know I shouldn't tolerate this treatment, but I don't think she realizes how wrong it is. I want to inform her in a nonjudgemental way and help her to get better, but I don't know how. I'm terrified of leaving her. I feel like she truly loves me and our relationship can get better, but only if she acknowledges something is wrong and we work through it together, which we are having trouble with.

“Readings show that the facility is still operational. That should not be possible.” The robotic voice of Z-8 reading the analysis out to the crew of The Scav. Their multiple mechanical arms operated three different devices, multitasking with immaculate precision.
“Noted Zate, are there any lifeforms detected?” Asked Lizra, the Elyrian Captain of the vessel. She stood in the center of the room on a small pedestal that made her tall enough to see out the window, striped white and red tail swaying in thought. Outside the window was a frozen moon that housed the remnants of a crumbling pre-migration military base.
“None that appear on the scanner Captain Lizra. We hope we did not come all this way just for our mission to be futile.”
“Even if it is not here, perhaps there will be something left behind in the facility's computer systems, these pre-migration bases are always incredible to explore.”
“If there ain't nothing here, I’m gonna send a strongly worded letter to Ensign Marketh. And by strongly worded letter, I mean my fist through his stupid fucking face.” Argall growled. Being the only Induran on the crew he had grown quite annoyed that nobody could assist him with the heavy lifting during the long journey. He could barely fit within the tight confines of the control room, and his large purple form took up more space than anything else on the ship.
“Calm yourself Argall, deep breaths. All of our work shall have paid off here momentarily. Bring us down Zate.”
The ship descended towards the rocky object below and set itself down on a crumbling landing pad. The trio disembarked after Argall and Lizra donned their environmental suits. Once they reached an outer door Zate began to interface manually with the facility. But after a minute of working, they had yet to make any progress. They should have been able to open the door in seconds with such outdated security, but everything seemed unrecognizable to them.
“Captain, it seems that the facility’s computer systems have been rewritten entirely from the ground up. I do not even recognize the coding language. This could be more difficult than we first expected.”
“That can’t be right, this place is over a thousand years old. I thought you had every language from the Commons in your database?”
“We do, it seems that whoever did this, did it entirely from the ground up. We will have to break it down into binary and then organize in a way that we can…”
“There’s no lifeforms inside, just make a new door.” Argall grumbled, reeling back and smashing a large dent into the side of the facility.
“Argall no more! These old outposts are fragile! This could cause irreparable damage, not to mention compromise the structural integrity!” Lizra yelled, jumping up and trying to wrap her paws around the angry Induran’s arm. Before he could punch it again, the door hissed and swung inward.
“Oh! Excellent work Zate! I guess it wasn’t too hard for you after all.”
“It was not us who opened the door.”
“Oh… perhaps punching was the key. Good call Argall, exercising initiative in the absence of orders.”
“Of course ma'am , it just came to me naturally.”
“Lets not dwell out here any longer, in we go crew!”
The three made their way into the facility as the door closed behind them causing Lizra to jump onto Argall in surprise. The dark corridors were lit up seconds later with the hum of long dead fluorescent lights. Lining the hallways were the long expired bodies of other Elyrians. Their corpses preserved by the cold temperatures and lack of air inside. The systems started to kick back on and compressed air flooded into the installation. The dead silence within, replaced by the busy whir of machines coming to life after having been out of a job for centuries.
“Z-Zate I thought you said you couldn’t access the facility?”
“Correct, we were unable to decrypt the programming language or set up an interface. It is not us rebooting the systems.”
“Right, Argall I-I think I shall stay up here, for my own safety of course.” Lizra stated perched atop his shoulder, tail wrapping around the hulking Induran’s neck for balance. He answered her with a growl as the group continued forward. Argall accidentally bumped into one of the corpses causing it to crumble into a pile of dust and bone. They followed the blinking lights that led them through the crumbling hallways before reaching an intersection. The lights on the other end of the hallway were out and the only thing illuminated was a door to their left. Whatever was running the facility wanted them to go here.
“The lights seem to want us to go in, do you all think this is where the weapon is?"
“We are unsure captain. When we tried to interface we were actively repelled by something and we have been attempting unsuccessfully to gain access since. There is someone else in the facility, and they know we are here.”
“Lets just follow the blinking lights, and if someone else is here, then I punch them and take the weapon. They can’t be good at computers and punching.”
“I love your optimism Argall, always good to have a plan! But maybe let’s refrain from punching our host? They’ve been very welcoming thus far, I’m sure if they wanted to fight us they wouldn’t have let us in to begin with.” Lizra countered as she looked at the new glowing path before them. The old door slid open as they approached.
Inside was a vast array of dated computer equipment, hundreds of wires and tubes connected to a sleek black box in the center of the room. She had never seen a computer like that in the old textbooks she studied before this quest. As the group walked towards it, old speakers embedded into the room crackled to life.
“Welcome visitors. My name is Tic-Tac, it’s so nice to see someone again after all these years.”
“Hello…uh Tic-Tac. Thank you for letting us in. May I ask, where exactly are you?”
“You’re looking at me madam. Please refrain from touching anything in here, my interfaces are very fragile. Now can I ask what brings you here?” Lizra hopped down from Argalls shoulder and stepped up to the small black box in the center of the room, inspecting the cables and wires around it. This is what was running the facility?
“We are here for the weapon, please resist.” Argall said, cracking his knuckles.
“No no no, please do not resist! We’re all nice here. We are here looking for an ancient weapon to aid us in a conflict that threatens all of our species. Would you by chance be Human?”
The intercom made a strange noise before speaking again “Haha, no I am merely based upon a human intelligence. You must have come here for my friend… hmm I guess we never got to discuss that new name yet. Regardless, he is here. But before we go any further I have to ask why you sought us out specifically.”
“Well you see Mr. Tic-Tac, we were given the quest to find a weapon that could change the tide of our war. We are part of a rebellion against the Galactic Core and we sent out many search parties to find anything that could help us change the tide of the battle. We are one of those parties, and we hope that you would lend your assistance to us in our time of need.”
“Unfortunately we retired from conflict many years ago. I do not think my partner would be so keen to assume a combat role again. We ended up here after an attempt to escape a life whose only purpose was war.”
“Well umm, maybe he would agree if we could talk to him? Tell him why we are fighting?”
“I am afraid that is not possible. He is currently indisposed, but if you would assist me in bringing him back to the world of the waking then he might hear you out.”
“Pardon my interruption but you have complete control over this facility. Is it not within your realm of capabilities to bring him back yourself?” Zate asked as they curiously inspected the systems around the room.
“I would if I could. I have actually been waiting for someone to stumble across this place so I could wake him. But since I do not possess a physical body it isn’t within my current means to accomplish.”
“If you do not possess a body how did you manage to construct these interfaces of yours.”
“Those that were here before you made this for me. They did not know what they were working with and they went through a great deal to communicate with me. I bided my time until I had full access to their systems to gauge their true motives. They did not have genuine intentions with us, so once they served their purpose, I had them purged from the facility.”
“So that explains why everyone here isn’t in… pristine condition." Lizra said glacing at the corpses of her people around the room. "You wouldn’t do that to us right Tic-Tac?”
“As long as you do not jeopardize my sovereignty or attempt to harm my partner.”
“Right, yea no intentions of doing that here. How can we be of assistance Mr Tic-Tac?”
“To your left you should see a cryostasis chamber, inside is my partner. It requires someone to physically release him from the outside. I’ll start the process of waking him, shouldn't be long.”
After a few minutes the chamber in the corner of the room started to get louder, finally booting back up again after a thousand years of being idle.
“Ok may the Induran please step up and release the clamps on the side?”
“How are you aware of what an Induran is? This facility was abandoned long before the Elyrian came into contact with the wider galaxy.” Zate asked the computer suspiciously.
“When you attempted to interface with my network, you opened yourself up to my own inquiry. I was able to access your memory and language databases stored within your own systems. I apologize for the violation but I was just being precautious.”
Zate did not know how to feel about how easily this program was able to bypass their security measures without them even knowing. That should not have been possible. As an Extant, they were a dispersed biological consciousness that was housed in a mechanical form. Their own internal systems should have been entirely shielded from outsider meddling. They put that aside as a note for future reference.
Argall walked forward and released the clamps that held shut the pressurized pod. Inside was a creature none of them had ever seen before. It looked more akin to an Extent than any biological creature. It reached up and pulled itself out of the pod denting the metal on either side as it did so. Once it rose to it’s feet it was nearly as tall as the Induran. Argall backed up and looked like he was ready to fight the thing in front of him.
“Calm down Induran, I do not think that would end well for any of us." Tic-Tac reprimanded before moving to the speakers in the back of the room and speaking in a strange language. "All good buddy? Can you hear me?”
“Fuck you TAC, I trusted your plan! The fuck were you thinking? I was conscious for the first 5 years! Do you have any idea what they put me through?”
“What is it saying? I can’t understand it.” Lizra asked, hopping up on Argall’s back peaking over his shoulder. She was trying to hide behind his bulky form to get a look at the new creature in the room. It had thick black metal plating that blanketed its bipedal form. On its chest were many strange objects and lettering she did not recognize and beneath the armor was a tight suit that covered everything the metal plating did not. Atop it’s head was a large metal helmet with a bright orange visor covered in small hexagons that faintly glittered in the light.
“Momentarily. We are uploading a new language to your translators. This should solve the problem. I see you placed this here when I was not paying attention Tic-Tac. I would ask that you refrain from violating our systems in the future.” Zate scolded and a second later the other two were able to understand the strange creature's speech.
Tic-Tac’s voices lit up the intercom in the room once again. “Good to hear your voice again 909, you know I don’t like being called TAC anymore.”
“And I said not to call me 909 again, so we’re even. Who are these ones? How long has it been? They didn’t find us, did they?” His voice sounded frantic as he got to the end of his questions.
“Take it slow, you're very disoriented right now. These ones are friendly. And no they didn’t find us, we’re safe.”
“Hi Mr 909?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Right, Mr Human then? We are here seeking a weapon to help us in a fight against a terrible enemy. Your friend Tic-Tac told us that you are what we came for and may be convinced to aid us in this fight?”
“No, I don’t do that anymore. I’m done fighting other people’s wars. Just get me off this rock.”
“But sir you don’t understand, The Core they-they’re tyrannical. They abuse the countless races of the Outer Belt, take our resources, they're-”
“Unless their goal is to exterminate every beach in the known galaxy to stop me from enjoying my retirement, I’m not interested.”
“Apologies everyone, but I am afraid I have some bad news. I’ve detected a slipspace rupture nearby, and it’s headed in our direction. The ship you arrived in, does it have any weapons?”
“Oh that was fast. Well, it's kind of funny, you see we were hoping to find one here, so uh… no, not really.”