I want to be hopeful and optimistic but the vast number of online disappointments make it difficult. Here are some things I don't want. Please don't contact me if you are not interested in reading the post. or do not want to talk long term and would be planning on ghosting me or disappearing within 1-2 days.
I am someone who is quite a sweet and effortful person. I would love an online connection with someone similar to me and have good, intellectual conversations and also share some laughter and affection. Affection can light us up and make us happy. (Even platonic connection is fine.) I like giving and receiving affection in the form of cute, little nicknames for each other, checking up on each other, asking about each other.
I hope my words sail to some worthwhile eyes on the winds of destiny.
I have grown wary of superficial connections, no effort replies and even abrupt ghosts.
I would like someone with whom I can exchange sweet words with. I am quite a romantic person and I was more so as earlier. A lot of responsibilities were thrust upon me with time, but I have rediscovered that side of myself. I would love to have a pretend romance with an online companion - where we pretend like we are long lost soul mates and trade fiery words of sweet passion for each other.
But, that is completely optional. I am fine with a wholesome, platonic connection as well.
If you've reached this far, it's because of some happy confluence of my words, the Reddit algorithm and fickle fortune.
Our meeting seemed to dangle so much on fate, it's only fair we pay our dues. Give it our best shot. Do justice to the matchmakers of heaven - The directors of this romance.
I'm on the quest for a sweet companion. Someone with a good heart. Kind and empathetic - Like my own. The good person at the end of the romcom when the attractive antagonists lose their allure.
I love bonding with someone through heart to heart conversation. Through exchanging genuine care and concern. Through passionate exchange of our interests and hobbies. Through clockwork logging of our daily lives. Through mindful curiosity in each other's interests. Through mutual preference for glitter over gold, depth over deception, charm over carelessness and symphonies over superficiality.
The conversation starts out with pleasantaries and outward introduction of our demographic information - the most rudimentary. The most formal. Gradually, the outer layers crack and a mild joke cuts across the mask and we're another layer deep. Common or different tastes in art are the usual social custom for making new acquaintances.
Soon, our conversation flows like a roaring river eliciting deep intellectual and emotional responses from both of us.
We're discussing prized memories and cherished fantasies of the future. Chalking out hypotheticals and admiring the other's world views. Pretty soon, we're suddenly bare and feeling a strong bond by virtue of what we've shared.
Small silences punctuated the conversation. These silences were not awkward. It was a comforting waterfall of connection. It was the silence that followed from both of us knowing and enjoying the bond created by our hearts.
I loved the feeling of ending a conversation with a stranger on the first day with the feeling you've known them for years. I harboured romantic beliefs that such a connection must be the byproduct of a relationship in a previous life !
Here are a few things about me -

• I love staying at home.
• I do not drink or smoke and don't like going to noisy pubs. Although there are times when friends or office parties are conducted there, it's something I just tolerate.
• I love reading. I am interested in programming, Mathematics, Chess, Science, Psychology, Geopolitics, Space, Literature (fantasy particularly or late but I like all kinds) and Self Help (Productivity and Positive Psychology) - and a lot more ! I'm generally intellectually curious and a lifelong learner.
• I love following updates on things I'm passionate about and sharing them regularly. I love following podcasts and blogs and videos on them and sharing and discussing them. I also love explaining a new thing I have learnt as it helps me understand it better.
• I tend to be positive and look at the brighter side of life usually. But I also like sharing the problems I am going through and like listening to your's.
• I love animals. I have a lot of pets. I am also quite close to my family and am surrounded by my loving pets (5 dogs and 4 cats). I recovered from dengue last month and they were always around me all the time. It felt very good.
• I love putting in effort into messages and writing effortful messages and generally use complete words and not much abbreviations. I love crafting a symphony of text.
• I am usually quite calm and supportive and remember things that are told to me in conversation. I like getting emotional and expressive and am soft hearted and sensitive. I am also quite mature and enjoy talking to similarly mature people.

Do not reach out to me if you're just bored, did not read the post, don't like anything about me or my profile or don't know what you want or don't want to invest in having a good connection or don't even have the intention for talking for a few weeks. I am already quite hurt at repeated ghosting so please do not even reach out to me if you intend to ghost by tomorrow or next week.
Here's what I would like from us

• Genuine interest, care and empathy for each other - Making each other a priority though we are strangers at first. That's part of the excitement in jumping head first into this ! That does not mean we do not respect each other's busy schedules or commitments. I'm looking for something really genuine.
• Regular effortful messages, and remembering things the other says
• I love sharing or explaining anything new I learn, whether it is a blog post, podcast, video, book or a general thought that came through my mind. It would be great if you love listening to good explanations and are interested in such things. I'd also love it if you too like sharing blogs or podcasts on topics that you are interested in but it's not necessary.
• I also love self improvement and sharing progress or motivation as we are doing things towards our goals and dreams.
• I love voice calls as I love the sound of voice. I would love it if you are someone who is excited at having regular voice calls (2-3 times a week) or at least exchanging voice messages at times !
• We don't need to have similar taste in art (music, TV shows, movies). I am open to learning about new kinds of interests and new subcultures !
• Openly sharing our thoughts on the bigger ideas and arcs of life and also venting about the smaller frustrations
• Being excited at receiving messages from the other person every time we light each other's phones up.
• [Optional] Some online romance where we sometimes say things to each other that make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.

Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.
Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to.

Greetings, citizens! I'm a writer, mostly freelance, but I've been working on my own setting for a while now. I've already described some of the basics of how my world is organized in the two posts on another subreddit, so I won't repeat them unnecessarily. Long story short: this is an alternate world that has deposits of metastable metallic hydrogen, concentrated at deep waters and in cold regions. Hydrogen, instead of oil, is the basis of the world's economy here, the corporations that have grown from its extraction and use have more power than governments. The political map of the world is different from our own, with different forces at play than we are used to.
The main setting is the city of Neone, located somewhere on the coast of the Balkan Peninsula. I won't specify a particular place or pick a certain country for its location. Instead, I will take some features from some various ones to add local flavor. As one of the largest trading hubs in the world, this city is very wealthy, but it's the kind of wealth that easily slips through your fingers. Everything is buying and selling here, and human life is just as much a bargaining chip. Life in Neone is determined by the actions that the Players, the main political forces in the city, take with one another. Relations between them can swing from friendship to hostility... Or sometimes a combination of both at the same time. So, here's a preliminary list of the ones I've already come up with:
CORPORATIONS:
Astara Industries is the “beauty industry” in all its forms. Silk and gold, perfume and cosmetics. Modeling, music, entertainment, plastic surgery, and escort services. Rumored to be involved in much darker affairs, but that doesn't stop a lot of young guys and especially girls from trying their luck and signing another cabal contract with Astara. The higher the ranks of their employees, the more the corporation seems to be a kind of cult that worships the very idea of beauty itself. Recently, this company has been investing colossal amounts of money into an ambitious project designed to stop aging and mortality.
Change Inc. is a pretty mysterious organization that primarily provides construction and design services as well as financial operations and data protection services. On deeper layers lies espionage and information trading to anyone who can offer a more interesting price for it.
Chapek's Clockworks is the other major robotics company that has dominated the market for quite a while. Now they are more famous for their retro designs and sponsorship of the theatrical scene.
Chimera Chemicals is a biochemical giant that once started out as a fertilizer manufacturer. Now they deal in just about everything chemical related, including weapons, and also sponsor gene modifications.
Dragonfruit Digital is a world famous software and electronics developer that was leading the market before the rapid... well, rise of Risen Robotics.
Friture Science is a food concern dedicated to the mission of feeding the world. In addition to natural products, they develop synthetic ones as well as a number of associated products.
Fortuna Fishing - seafood production in Neone coastal waters and also beyond and deeper. Some of the things they found deep in the waters made them a little bit... Well, superstitious.
Greenfield Gardens - Similar in many ways to the previous one, this company focuses on environmental protection and recycling methods. Owns many farms and gardens in the city and beyond. Genetic modifications, too.
Hecate Guaranty is a law and insurance company. Deals with all possible disputes of their clients, property issues, and more. When required and paid decently, can provide a person or group of people a new life and a new home.
International Inc. is the most boring company in the world. Originally a construction contractor they pioneered the technology of rapid modular building. Because of this, International Inc. quickly built up capital and influence by rebuilding cities after wars. Eventually they expanded into selling associated products and services, then logistics, recruiting personnel... And now International Inc. provides half of the world's products. Each of their products is completely featureless, but they get the job done at an acceptable price.
Keller & Crow is one of Europe's largest arms manufacturers, dating back to World War I, or maybe even earlier. Known for their high quality and appropriate prices.
Keller-Tec is, in more than one sense, a daughter corporation of Keller & Crow. It develops the most cutting-edge custom weapon and gear systems. It works closely with Risen Robotics and actively funds the Fountain of Good.
Kiki Courier Company is a network of independent couriers working through the app. Moving around the roofs of Neone, they are able to deliver a small cargo personally in their hands for those who don't trust big companies.
Matsubayashi Motors is a Japanese vehicle manufacturer. Raised on defense contracts, they now make anything that can carry a human in it, from scooters and cars to aircraft and bolides.
MOLOT manufactures is another major arms manufacturer in Europe. In fact a franchise that sells to factories around the world the rights to produce copies of their world famous models. Their designs are a bit crude, but reliable and durable.
Poseidon's Possibilities - A marine transportation company that plays an important role in city and global shipping. Considering the high risk of piracy, possess pretty good assets to protect themselves, and sometimes execute third-party orders in coastal zones.
Risen Robotics is one of the world's important corporations. Creating innovative neural chip technology, Risen Robotics quickly earned financial and political capital and aiming for more. They were the first to commercialize a truly cheap and mass-produced android called the Peacebringer, and these robots can be seen in the military, security companies, and even as security guards in the market and malls and as bouncers in nightclubs. Building its influence, Risen Robotics aims to actively bring its tech into the lives of everyone in the world... And then their gaze will be directed higher into the skies and to the stars.
Royal Arms - Once a major weapons company, they are now more focused on the civilian market and support tools. Their high-precision tools and cybernetic limbs are widely used in civilian and military markets, as well as the medicine and even space industries.
Strigoi Sovereign is a company with a long history of working with private customers. They originally focused on hunting and harvesting of high-value resources, but gradually expanded. Nowadays, they are known for their customized combat enhancements, whether it be tough training and gear customization as well as biological, chemical, and cybernetic enhancements. Among all forms of payment, they prefer transactions in precious metals.
Van Nueve Innovations is another deep genetic research company. After their role in human trafficking and criminal experiments was revealed, their assets were mostly shut and sold down. Now their stuff keeps popping up on the black market - though, in this city, the difference between the regular and black market is barely noticeable.
Vulcan Weaponry is another firearm company with a long history, with a good reputation for their trusted builds, high quality and classy designs. Among the mercenary world, their weapons and equipment is considered indicators of prestige and good taste.
PRIVATE MILITARY COMPANIES:
Deepwater is a notorious American PMC with a well-deserved dirty reputation. Their Sigma division deployed in Neone has been caught in the middle of scandals more than once.
FIREBIЯD - Russian PMC, looking after order in and around Neone. Having a small size they are all carefully selected by their leader and follow him into both fire and water.
Ryujin - Japanese PMC, which has a good social image and actively finances all kinds of entertainment.
Schwarzwald is a German PMC with a long-standing reputation and connections. It usually works for the benefit of Western European clients and has a long history of cooperation with the Keller family.
Keller's Claws is a passion project of Alex Keller, CEO of Keller-Tec. A small and elite female PMC, operating in the interests of their mistress or executing carefully selected contracts around the world.
This is not all PMCs in the city, but only those that are not directly linked to specific corporations that were listed above.
GANGS:
The Blazer is a broad and diverse group of radical anarchists. They are mostly drawn to the destruction of corporate property and speculation about “power of the people”, but some of their members are not averse to almost any type of work.
The Crooked Circle is another cult-like gang, or vice versa. They focus on collecting unique technology, but aren't particularly successful at it. But they're still alive and kicking, praying that their mechanical messiah will save them.
The Grey Court Syndicate is the largest criminal organization in the city, and one of the largest in Europe, maybe even in the entire world. Reminiscent of the classic Mafia. On one side they have the exterior gloss, protecting order and running legal businesses, but on the other side they have human and organ trafficking, prostitution and assassinations for hire. The Grey Court is one of the main sources of migrants in Neone.
The Himmelreich is a disorganized gang fighting for the “purity of humanity”. They oppose the very fact of existence of chimeras and cyborgs in this world. In fact are useful fools for the real Players in the city.
The Tulips are something between a gang and a religious sect. Spoken with Christian-like mottos, they attract beggars and cripples to their ranks, especially focusing on PMC veterans and former corporate workers, but in fact they accept all the desperate. They have squatted some ruins on the outskirts of the city, including the abandoned greenhouse that gave them their name. However... They are rapidly expanding their influence and their source of funding remains unknown.
OTHERS:
The City Council is the primary administration of the city. They manage, but they don't reign. They are a handful of exhausted clerks, doing the hard work that no one else accepted to do. Basically maintain the city's communications and keep the Players away from killing each other and too many ordinary citizens.
The Forge is a secret organization that exists for a very long time and runs deeply secured operations all over the world. They believe it's their duty to protect humanity from dangerous ideas, technologies, and obscure subjects such as [UNKNOWN]. Forge is often found to be a puppeteer, directing the actions of other Players or certain individuals.
The Fountain of Good is a globally respected charity organization primarily focused on orphanages. One of the few Players who maintains truly bright ideals. The children who grow up usually become corporate employees afterwards. Other Players fund them mainly to launder money, calm their karma and create a positive public image for themselves.
The Nuevians are a deep-covered organization slowly gaining influence in the city. They are led by an artificially created living entity known only as "The Queen" that seeks to bring prosperity to the planet. They have good intentions, but fear to repeat the fate of the Zero Cycle.
The Union of Nations Peacekeepers - maintaining a shred of peace in the aftermath of the Incident, a massive earthquake that recently struck Neone. Many urban areas have since descended into chaos and lawlessness, while others live as if nothing has happened or are experiencing minimal inconvenience. The competency of these soldiers is questionable and they are barely supplied.
The Volunteer Vanguards are an organization that maintains order in those Neone districts where the City Council or other Players do not. Generally a barely trained and armed militia, but there are some skilled veterans and former corporate workers in their ranks.
The Workers Ring is Neone's major blue collar association. They support city communications so they have a lot of influence. Individual members may or may not be involved in working for other Players and illegal activities. The second meaning of the "Ring" word is also utilized - many members of this community are known for their passion for arena fighting.
The Zero Cycle is a secret organization of intelligent machines once created by a rogue AI. Several Players united to destroy this threat, leading to the Incident. Now, shards of the Cycle's technology, superior to anything created by humanity, is the most valuable hunting treasure in Neone. Owning one of them means risking the lives of yourself and your loved ones, but that rarely stops hunters who desire wealth or driven by some personal reasons.
Well, that's the draft. Any ideas, suggestions, any other feedback?

I (27f) have been toying with the idea of pursuing a career to do with cars- what context I am a little unsure on.
My (much older) cousins have classic cars (Chevelle/Camaro/Corvette) and I have a '91 Chevrolet 1500 I've been "restoring" just under my own steam, but they have been going over basics and how to fix things with me and I do have a genuine interest to know more.
I love cars, I grew up on top gear, visiting the National Motor museum, and dreaming about being in F1 (lol) before my Mom showed me footage of Niki Laudas crash and warned me off it.
Now I'm older and I'm back in the states I guess I am curious what people who work in the industry would recommend to someone female? I admit I do worry about the upper body strength aspect of it with auto mechanics though I'm sure you get used to it... I am game for anything?
Any advice?

I want to be hopeful and optimistic but the vast number of online disappointments make it difficult. Here are some things I don't want. Please don't contact me if you are not interested in reading the post. or do not want to talk long term and would be planning on ghosting me or disappearing within 1-2 days.
I am someone who is quite a sweet and effortful person. I would love an online connection with someone similar to me and have good, intellectual conversations and also share some laughter and affection. Affection can light us up and make us happy. (Even platonic connection is fine.) I like giving and receiving affection in the form of cute, little nicknames for each other, checking up on each other, asking about each other.
Of late, I have been watching a lot of couple pranks on YouTube. They teach me a lot about couple dynamics (what kind of dynamics are healthy and what are toxic). It would be nice to have someone to discuss these kinds of dynamics with. Sometimes I like those pranks where one pretends to be angry and the other kind of comforts them. It would be nice if we could enact that sometime.
I hope my words sail to some worthwhile eyes on the winds of destiny.
I have grown wary of superficial connections, no effort replies and even abrupt ghosts.
I would like someone with whom I can exchange sweet words with. I am quite a romantic person and I was more so as earlier. A lot of responsibilities were thrust upon me with time, but I have rediscovered that side of myself. I would love to have a pretend romance with an online companion - where we pretend like we are long lost soul mates and trade fiery words of sweet passion for each other.
But, that is completely optional. I am fine with a wholesome, platonic connection as well.
If you've reached this far, it's because of some happy confluence of my words, the Reddit algorithm and fickle fortune.
Our meeting seemed to dangle so much on fate, it's only fair we pay our dues. Give it our best shot. Do justice to the matchmakers of heaven - The directors of this romance.
I'm on the quest for a sweet companion. Someone with a good heart. Kind and empathetic - Like my own. The good person at the end of the romcom when the attractive antagonists lose their allure.
I love bonding with someone through heart to heart conversation. Through exchanging genuine care and concern. Through passionate exchange of our interests and hobbies. Through clockwork logging of our daily lives. Through mindful curiosity in each other's interests. Through mutual preference for glitter over gold, depth over deception, charm over carelessness and symphonies over superficiality.
The conversation starts out with pleasantaries and outward introduction of our demographic information - the most rudimentary. The most formal. Gradually, the outer layers crack and a mild joke cuts across the mask and we're another layer deep. Common or different tastes in art are the usual social custom for making new acquaintances.
Soon, our conversation flows like a roaring river eliciting deep intellectual and emotional responses from both of us.
We're discussing prized memories and cherished fantasies of the future. Chalking out hypotheticals and admiring the other's world views. Pretty soon, we're suddenly bare and feeling a strong bond by virtue of what we've shared.
Small silences punctuated the conversation. These silences were not awkward. It was a comforting waterfall of connection. It was the silence that followed from both of us knowing and enjoying the bond created by our hearts.
I loved the feeling of ending a conversation with a stranger on the first day with the feeling you've known them for years. I harboured romantic beliefs that such a connection must be the byproduct of a relationship in a previous life !
Here are a few things about me -

• I love staying at home.
• I do not drink or smoke and don't like going to noisy pubs. Although there are times when friends or office parties are conducted there, it's something I just tolerate.
• I love reading. I am interested in programming, Mathematics, Chess, Science, Psychology, Geopolitics, Space, Literature (fantasy particularly or late but I like all kinds) and Self Help (Productivity and Positive Psychology) - and a lot more ! I'm generally intellectually curious and a lifelong learner.
• I love following updates on things I'm passionate about and sharing them regularly. I love following podcasts and blogs and videos on them and sharing and discussing them. I also love explaining a new thing I have learnt as it helps me understand it better.
• I tend to be positive and look at the brighter side of life usually. But I also like sharing the problems I am going through and like listening to your's.
• I love animals. I have a lot of pets. I am also quite close to my family and am surrounded by my loving pets (5 dogs and 4 cats). I recovered from dengue last month and they were always around me all the time. It felt very good.
• I love putting in effort into messages and writing effortful messages and generally use complete words and not much abbreviations. I love crafting a symphony of text.
• I am usually quite calm and supportive and remember things that are told to me in conversation. I like getting emotional and expressive and am soft hearted and sensitive. I am also quite mature and enjoy talking to similarly mature people.

Do not reach out to me if you're just bored, did not read the post, don't like anything about me or my profile or don't know what you want or don't want to invest in having a good connection or don't even have the intention for talking for a few weeks. I am already quite hurt at repeated ghosting so please do not even reach out to me if you intend to ghost by tomorrow or next week.
Here's what I would like from us

• Genuine interest, care and empathy for each other - Making each other a priority though we are strangers at first. That's part of the excitement in jumping head first into this ! That does not mean we do not respect each other's busy schedules or commitments. I'm looking for something really genuine.
• Regular effortful messages, and remembering things the other says
• I love sharing or explaining anything new I learn, whether it is a blog post, podcast, video, book or a general thought that came through my mind. It would be great if you love listening to good explanations and are interested in such things. I'd also love it if you too like sharing blogs or podcasts on topics that you are interested in but it's not necessary.
• I also love self improvement and sharing progress or motivation as we are doing things towards our goals and dreams.
• I love voice calls as I love the sound of voice. I would love it if you are someone who is excited at having regular voice calls (2-3 times a week) or at least exchanging voice messages at times !
• We don't need to have similar taste in art (music, TV shows, movies). I am open to learning about new kinds of interests and new subcultures !
• Openly sharing our thoughts on the bigger ideas and arcs of life and also venting about the smaller frustrations
• Being excited at receiving messages from the other person every time we light each other's phones up.
• [Optional] Some online romance where we sometimes say things to each other that make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.

Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.
Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to.

So my 3 year old has been diagnosed on the spectrum for Autism. He was non verbal up until about 4-6 months ago now he is using full sentences and explaining things he sees. Overall huge improvement and the child 100% understands English and Arabic and will answer in both languages. So last night we were winding down before bed time. I was straightening up in the kitchen and cleaning up his toys when he wouldn’t let me put one of his trucks away. This truck came with a small screw driver and you can unscrew the screws and take it apart. Now what is interesting over 45 minutes I watched him take all the screws out and take the whole thing apart. Then he put everything back together and screwed all of them back in place. Then repeated the process 2 more times. I asked him if he needed help which he told me no. I don’t know why this little thing made me so deeply proud of him and I just had this realization that I had no one to share this amazing thing that he had done. I can’t message his dad, he would say good job then kind of shrug it off like he does most things. So I just wanted to share this moment with someone. Before anyone asks I love my son no matter what and I understand what it means to have autism. His dad however is one of the types of people that says we can cure it and he will be normal. I say this because for this small thing is major in his development and that is why I know his dad wouldn’t even really acknowledge it.

In an hour, I will be 235 days sober. I dont’t Reddit a lot, and never make posts, but I felt like sharing this so maybe someone on the fence out there will decide to stop drinking before they end up like me. Everyone knows the consequences of drinking, but seldom ever do I see anyone talk about what living like that is, what the first year of recovery feels like, etc.
I am an alcoholic, and I can never drink again. My body does something with alcohol that no “normal” person’s does. I got hit with a genetic double whammy from two alcoholic grandfathers plus high risk of substance abuse from autism. Coupled with working in a professional industry where consuming alcohol is almost mandatory, ignorance, and a shitty upbring, I never really had a chance.
I never really got into any trouble for drinking. I didn’t start fights, I didn’t get arrested for a DUI/DWI, I didn’t have wrecks, and I didn’t miss work. I had a high-paying albeit incredibly harrowing job and a fiance, but I was losing my health and my mind. Lots of unresolved mental issues and an extremely high stress environment meant that over a period of 2-3 years, my drinking spiraled out of control and I denied it the entire time. I tried to quit drinking, I couldn’t. I forced myself to dry out for 11 days regardless, and it was pure hell. Sweating, shaking, vomiting blood, psychosis, hallucinations, nausea, headache, diarrhea, extreme paranoia, brain fog, and fear. Pure terror, honestly. On the 12th day I drank, and I drank for another 3 months before I checked myself into rehab after losing everything.
My fiance left in a brutally cruel fashion along with her family, she took my dog, she stole cash, she had put me into some debt, etc. I had allowed my psychotic father back into my life previously and he picked this moment of desperation and abject hoplessness in my life to go full narcissist and ruin what little sanity I had left. I ended up drinking myself into psychosis, almost dying, almost committing suicide, and disappearing off the face of the planet before going to rehab. I didn’t want to live anymore; rehab was nightmarish. I made the best of it, but it was soul crushing in every way imaginable.
I joined AA as soon as rehab was over, declared bankruptcy, and am now trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I honestly should not be alive right now, and I honestly still don’t want to be.
Drinking and what I went through because of it and other people has fundamentally changed me as a human being. I am a shell of myself. I deal with constant suicidal thoughts despite psychiatry (and a brain scan, blood test, X-ray, etc. no tumor), I have panic attacks for no reason, moments of intense terror for absolutely no reason, bouts of nihilistically staring at the wall for hours on end, no interest in anything, no desire to eat, inability to sleep, no social life outside of AA, and an outlook on life that is so fundamentally negative that I would not wish this on my worst enemy or any other human being no matter how heinous they are.
No one deserves to live this way, and this is the price I must pay for the last 5 years of my alcoholism. I force myself to work, I force myself to go to the gym, and I force myself to get out of bed and go to AA. Everything I do is a struggle with no meaning, motivation, or joy behind it. I am an automation, a wind-up toy soldier, and nothing more. My insides have been hollowed out, I can’t imagine 30 more years of this, and I can’t imagine ever fully recovering from this either.
Please, if you are on the fence, stop drinking. Don’t become me. It is pure hell, and I’m one of the lucky ones that didn’t end up homeless or in prison or dead. Living like this every single day is almost as much of a nightmare as drinking every single day was. Don’t do this to yourself.
Stop before it’s too late.

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.

You guys know what an alpine coaster is? They are like a small roller coaster you find in the mountains. They are also called summer toboggans or mountain coasters and I think there’s some long German compound word they are called in parts of Europe. They are like a roller coaster, but with much smaller one or two person sleds you just sit on instead of multi-person cars you ride in, and instead of being built with like a scaffolding or a framework the tracks are just on the ground, using the elevation of the mountain. Basically it’s a coaster track on the side of a mountain where you ride a sled down.
They are pretty fun. Or at least I used to think so. They are more “personal” than roller coasters and although you get nowhere near the speed on them that you do on a good traditional roller coaster and they can’t do corkscrews or loops or anything like that the openness and simplicity of the ride gives an impression of a much greater speed. You’re just sitting there with nothing but a little plastic sled and the track between you and the ground as it goes zooming by. It’s like the difference between how fast a go-cart feels compared to how fast a sports car feels. You know the sports car goes faster but the open, simpleness of a go-cart feels a different kind of fast. There’s plenty of POV Youtube videos if you want to get the basic idea of what they are.
I used to love alpine coasters. Used to.
My family used to go to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and up and down the Smokey Mountains for vacations when I was a kid and they are common in that area and I’d always rode them every chance I got.
But as with so many things after I grew up and went to college they just became part of my childhood that slipped away. They aren’t exactly common once you get away from the mountains.
Until one cool spring afternoon in 2004. I was in my final year at college and I was driving back to campus in Tennessee after a short visit to my folks in North Carolina. It was only like a 4 or 5 hour drive via the most efficient route and I had no need to be back at campus early so instead of taking the freeway all the way I got off and took part of my trip through the mountains. The scenery was nicer and I admit I liked pushing my Camaro just a little faster than I should through the twisty mountain roads.
Just after lunchtime happened upon one of those little by-the-highway tourist towns deep somewhere in the Smoky Mountains near the Carolina/Tennessee border. Nothing fancy, a gas station/truck stop, a diner, a couple of places selling tourist merch nestled deep in the mountains. I pulled into the gas station. My tank was getting low and I needed to stretch my legs, maybe grab something to eat. It was still early and I only had another couple of hours. I could kill an hour or so and still make it back to campus at a decent hour.
I pulled into the gas station and was filling my tank when I happened to glance across the road and… well I’ll be damned. There it was. “The Blue Ridge Alpine Coaster.” Nestled on the side of the mountain was a building, a mockup of a red barn, where a single railed track that led up into the mountains, where it soon got lost in the greenery. Wooden hand painted standees of cartoon character bears dressed in stereotypical “Hillbilly” getup stood around, some of them holding signs showing the ride hours and ticket costs and other info. I had to admit, as silly as it was, it made me smile.I finished pumping my gas and, well, nostalgia is a helluva thing. I decided then and there I could waste a little time riding an Alpine Coaster again after all these years before getting back on the road.
I parked my car in a corner of the truck stop's parking lot, put my phone in the center console, this being the days before smart phones when people didn’t keep their phones with them 24/7 and I didn’t want my old Nokia brick phone to fall out during the ride, locked my car and walked across the mountain highway to the Alpine Coaster building.
Getting closer, the place was less inviting. The half hearted attempt at a whimsical faux-Americana kitsch was far less effective when it brushed up against the actual decaying, run down wooden building. Hell calling it a building was generous. It was a wood frame holding up a long roof that covered the area where you got on the sleds. The wood boards creaked under my footsteps.
The only real enclosed structure was a shack that held, what I assumed, was a ticket booth. A door on the side had both a single occupancy bathroom with an out of order sign on it. An old Pepsi machine buzzed and glowed next to it.
Still the place looked alive. Ahead of me a bored looking attendant was helping a mother and her young son into one of the sleds while in a bored monotone repeating the safety brief. A few people were waiting in line at the ticket booth. Up in the mountains the playful shouts of people on the ride echoed down. Fond memories of my own childhood rides flooded my mind.10 minutes and 15 dollars later I was settling into the hard plastic seat of a bright red sled sat atop a simple aluminum rail.
I couldn’t help but grin as the sled slowly climbed the track up the mountains, making click-clack ratcheting sounds that hit my nostalgia centers hard. I felt good. The air was cool and crisp and smelled of pine.Higher and higher in the mountains we went. I don’t know if this is my mind trying to make sense of it after the fact but when I remember these moments, the last good moments, I sometimes think I remember a very slight, very subtle pit of fear in my stomach. I honestly don’t know if I felt it at the time or not or it’s just how my mind tries to make sense of it looking back at.
But either way mostly I was enjoying myself. I smiled. I was a kid again. I could hear riders in front of me let out that initial yell of terrified glee you get at the first drop of any good ride.
It peaked. I glanced around. I could see for miles, rolling hills and mountains. I the sled tipped over and zoomed down the mountain and I let out the same happy yell I heard from the other passengers.The ride zoomed down the mountain, catching speed. The mountain forest floor zoomed past, only a few feet under me. Trees zoomed past. I gave out a happy whoop as the ride banked hard around a curve and then looped back under itself.Another dip, another curve. I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of the G-forces pulling me every which way.
There was no one exact single moment where things started to go “wrong.” The ride kept going. And going. At this point the first creeping thought entered my head.
The ride… was still going.
It just started to hit me… this ride was going on for a really long time. I had taken a dozen rides on various coasters of this type before that day and they topped out at about 5 minutes or so, and that was the long ones. Longer than a traditional roller coaster but not that long. This one had been going on for what felt like 10, maybe even 15 minutes.
I looked back over my shoulder and could only see trees, moving too fast to really get a bearing on where I was at in relation to anything.
I wasn't exactly really worried yet. Okay so I had found a particularly long alpine coaster. At the time I wasn’t 100% wasn't sure they didn’t exist or anything like that. I was a little… unnerved but nothing was happening that was impossible. Yet.
I was trying to talk myself back into just enjoying the ride and stop overthinking it, and halfway succeeded, when out of nowhere I suddenly banked hard, the track jutting out almost over a sheer cliffside. I gripped the sled more tightly as I was whipped around. The ride then dipped hard and picked up speed, barreling down the side of the mountain.
I was pushed back against the seat by the force of the drop. Jesus I didn’t remember them being this rough. I was feeling slightly nauseous. And where had this elevation drop come from I wondered? I was still in the foothills and I didn’t remember seeing anything but gentle rolling hills and light drops from looking at the ride’s route earlier. How the ride had managed such a long, steep drop in this area I didn’t know. . For the first time I hoped that the ride would be over soon. I had no idea then how much I would want that same hope to be true so much more as time went on.
With a whiplash motion I was whipped forward and then back as the ride leveled out on flat ground again, but by this point I was going fast, too fast. My neck hurt from the mild whiplash and I felt sour in my throat and for a moment the contents of my stomach threatened to come back up. For the first, but hardly the last time the ride felt unsafe. Alpine Coasters are tame affairs, much slower and gentler than full on roller coasters but this thing was throwing me around like no thrill ride I had ever been on.
I looked around. I mean I wasn’t that deep into the woods. I should have been able to see a glimpse of something; the highway, the gas station, the tourist shops, the Alpine Coaster office, something, anything. But nothing. Just trees.
I forced back some panic for the first time. I closed my eyes and counted to ten. The ride zoomed along. I counted to 60. I counted to 60 again. And again. Okay this was getting uncomfortably harder and harder to explain.
Suddenly I noticed that up ahead the track seemed to just end, for one brief, terrible moment I thought the track just ended but I was wrong. Almost without warning the track dipped in an almost vertical drop. I almost screamed as I plummeted for 20, maybe 30 seconds before flattening out again.
By this point the voice in my head that was telling me something was wrong was louder and I could no longer tell myself it was wrong. This ride could not have been this long. I tried to make sense of it, wondering if somehow I had gotten diverted onto some kind of maintenance track or, hell for one brief irrational moment even entertaining the idea that I had wound up on an actual train track somehow. But that was absurd. The rail below me was not a train track, it was still just the simple, aluminum rail of an alpine coaster and there had been no diversions or junctions in the track. I was still on the ride, as insane as that was starting to feel. Had the ride somehow looped? Again after having the thought I immediately dismissed it as crazy. There’s no way I could have missed the ride building where I got on. And what kind of ride loops over and over?
The sled zoomed through the forest, oddly never seeming to lose speed despite the relatively flat grade of the track. I cursed myself for leaving my phone in the car and not wearing a watch. I don’t know exactly how long I had been on the ride at that point but it felt like I had been on the ride for a half hour, maybe more. But time is a funny thing when you’re in a situation you’ve never been in. Could have been more, could have been less, at that point.
My pride finally failed me. I started to scream for help. I screamed out that the ride was broken, to stop it, that I needed help. I did that for about ten minutes or so I think. The ride kept going. Mostly flat, level track with occasional mild dips and turns. But the simple length of the ride grew more and more unnerving and unexplainable.
I thought about just bailing out. But the ride, impossibly, was still not slowing down and chunks of mountain rock and thick tree trunks were all around me. Bailing out without risking smashing into a rock or a tree seemed impossible.
The ride kept going.
Up ahead the forest was clearing out some, I could see the forest brightening, more sunlight making it through the canopy.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.
The trees stopped and I had just enough time to take in a flat, open area of rock maybe 40, 50 yards at most before another sheer cliff. The tracks twisted and turned and then shot straight down. But that wasn’t the worst of it. For a moment, a very short moment, I had a clear view for miles and the landscape was, to be blunt, totally impossible. Any possibility that I had just stumbled on some incredibly long ride was blasted out of my head. Barren, volcanic looking rock stretched for miles. Jagged, black rocky outcroppings as far as the eye could see. I was in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. They don’t look like that.
I had a few moments for the terror of that view to settle in before the cart plunged into another horrifying drop. I gripped the handles of the cheap plastic sled until my knuckles turned white. The drop felt completely vertical, like I was falling at terminal velocity. I screamed. My stomach dropped and turned. I imagined the sled coming away from the track and me just plummeting screaming to my death on the rocks below. But somehow the ride still functioned. I closed my eyes tightly and just waited for whatever was going to happen. Eventually after several what felt like a full minute of steep plunging the track again leveled out, and I opened my eyes to see myself moving at breakneck speed over that black, rocky landscape.
Now that I was moving on a more or less flat horizontal track again I took a few deep breaths. I looked over the edge of the track. Nothing but that black, jagged rock, almost looking like obsidian, zooming past. I had no idea how fast the sled was moving now. Fast. Faster than a gravity powered sled should be moving. And the track was higher off the ground now. Alpine slides usually stick pretty close to the ground, but I was 20 feet or so in the air, the track suspended in the air, a simple metal tube tower like a power pylon every few yards.
Without any immediate threat and the sled moving fast but steadily and level I was able to think about my situation again, for all the good that did me. Ahead of me the track just continued to the horizon, nothing but the same rocky landscape as far as I could see. I craned my neck to look back over my shoulder and looked back behind me and it looked the same. Even the mountains were but distant specs on the horizon behind me.
This was insane. There’s not a giant seemingly endless field of black jagged rock in the goddamn Smoky Mountains. There’s no cliff faces tall and steep enough for a multi-minute vertical drop. And alpine coasters were small affairs, not major engineering projects that span miles with pylons and vertical tracks. It made no sense.
Sadly it wasn’t going to start making any more sense anytime soon.
The ride kept going.
I was on this rocky landscape for several hours. I feel comfortable saying this because I could actually notice the sun getting lower in the sky. And the sled wasn’t slowing down despite the grade of the track being flat. I was getting cramped from sitting and stretched my legs and twisted my back as best I could. Didn’t do much help. My eyes were starting to get irritated from the constant wind in them. Worst of all it was starting to get chilly. I only had on a light jacket, a windbreaker, just something to keep the breeze off me, no real insulation. I was cold, my joints were stiff, I was hungry and thirsty. My eyes watered and my throat was so dry it was sore.
But none of that was as bad as just how little sense this all made. There’s nothing like this place anywhere near the Smoky Mountains. This was like some volcanic rock landscape. The more I thought about it the less sense it made.
The ride kept going.
My mind didn’t even try to process this. Whatever I was experiencing simply couldn’t be possible. I was crazy. I was dreaming. The CIA had kidnapped me and dosed me with some new version of LSD and I was in a straightjacket in a padded room at Area 51.
The sled kept zooming along as the sky turned to dusk. Soon the bridge disappeared from my view and I continued on along the endless, rocky, featureless landscape.
I sat back against the sled, mentally and physically numb. I was exhausted. I was thirsty. I was cramping up. I was hungry. I had to pee. I held it for as long as I could, then had no choice but just wet myself. I cried until I had no more tears left. Then I just sat there.
The ride kept going.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon my throat felt like sandpaper. I dug around in my jacket pockets hoping to find a stick of gum or piece of candy. Nothing. I checked again, having nothing else to do. Under a crumpled store receipt in the inner pocket of my jacket was a single old, forgotten cough drop. I unwrapped it from the paper and popped it in my mouth. Saliva flooded back into my mouth and I was overwhelmed by the methanol and medicine taste. It was something at least, although I knew it would be a brief and temporary fix at best.
I felt my eyes get heavy. It was getting colder. That mountain cold. That deep cold the mountains have even into the early spring when the sun goes down. That kind that just pulls the heat right out of you. I shivered. A terrible, horrible certainty came to me. I would ride until I passed out from exhaustion or the hypothermia set in. My body would tumble off the sled to fall and skip across the rocky ground like a stone skipping across a lake, my bones breaking as I tumbled until my body finally came to a stop. If I was lucky I would be killed and not have to lie for days, broken and bruised, on the ground until death took me.
The ride kept going. The ride kept going. The fucking ride kept going.
“Fuck you” I said to the ride, my voice a horse whisper. I pulled my jacket closer around me, for all the good it did. The cold wind was slowly but surely pulling my body heat away. My shivering got worse, crossing the line from a simple normal shiver into those deep, almost violent full body ones.. I wasn’t anything you could call an experienced outdoorsman, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t a good sign.
It was getting dark. There was a full moon at least so I wasn’t totally in the dark.
About then I noticed something. The landscape, what little I could see in the fading light, was changing. It was smoothing out, becoming less rocky and craggy. Up ahead an odd, shimmering light was starting to appear on the ground.
I was over it before I even realized what it was. The tracks were going over a smooth surface.
Water. It was a lake. The odd lights I had seen were the moon, reflected in ripples on the lake.
Within minutes I was out of the view of the land. After the nearly endless rocky landscape and everything else I had seen, it scared me how little I was shocked. I didn’t like how mentally numb I was getting. I leaned over. There was enough moonlight to see the water, 15 or 20 feet below the track. The pylons holding up the track went into the water, the light wasn’t good enough to even make a guess at how far they went down or how deep the water was.I leaned back in the sled. My eyes were red and bloodshot from the constant wind. I closed them. This was a mistake.I jerked awake. I don’t know if I dozed off for a split second or an hour. My weight had shifted and I caught myself as my center of gravity was in danger of sending me off the sled and into the water.
I screamed in anger. A deep primal scream. I hurt so bad. My joints felt like they were full of glass. My limbs were full of pins and needles. I glanced over at the water. For the first time on the very edges of my brain a tiny voice started to speak up, telling me that I could be all over if I just jumped. I shut the voice up, but it scared me still.
I sat there as the ride went on. It felt like hours. Eventually the lake ended in a rocky shore line. The damned ride. There was no safe place to bail out. If the ride slowed down, it was high in the air, if it moved toward the ground it sped up. Sharp rocks, big trees, nothing you could safely bail out into.
I kept having to force myself awake. I kept dozing off. Once I felt myself falling asleep and drove a vicious uppercut into my own nose to stave it off.
I seriously started to think about how much longer I could hang on. The voice came back again. This time I didn’t shut it up. I wasn’t admitting it to myself yet, but I was starting to think about the best way to land that would end it quickly if I needed to.
Something was ahead. The track seemed to dip into the ground. I was too tired, too beaten to even get scared. I was just resigned to whatever happened at this point.
With little warning the track took my sled into a tunnel in the ground. Everything went completely pitch black. After several moments even the dim moonlight was gone.
This was the worst part. The creepy forest, the immense rocky landscape, the eerie lake… those were bad. But this was just nothing. Nothing to look at, nothing to hear, nothing for reference or sense of where I was going. The walls of the tunnel felt like they were inches from me in every direction. The air felt thick, like there wasn’t enough oxygen.
With every moment I was in that tunnel I lost a little more hope. After a long, long time I made a decision. When I got out of this tunnel, I would jump. I didn’t care anymore. Hopefully there would be a spot where I could be certain the fall would instantly kill me. I was done. The ride had beaten me. I sat there, waiting for a chance to end this on my terms. That was all I had left.
Eventually up ahead, a tiny speck of light appeared. I gathered my strength, ready to end it. I sat up, getting my legs under me so I could jump as soon as we were clear. The sled burst out of the tunnel. The dim light of the full moon was enough to be momentarily blinding after the pitch black of the tunnel.. I gave my eyes a moment to adjust.
I was back in a normal looking Appalachian forest. Rolling hills, green trees. The air smelled of pine again. I heard an owl hoot off somewhere.
Slowly I lowered myself back into a setting position, in shock. At first I refused to believe it but the ride was slowing down. I held still, making sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me, but no, the cheap plastic sled that had been my world for what felt like an eternity was slowing down.
Up ahead, a structure was visible, peeking out from among the trees in the dim lighting as the sled moved down the track.
It was the Alpine Slide building. The crappy fake red barn where I had boarded this cursed ride so long ago. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, sure it was either my mind or the cursed ride playing tricks with me. But the building stayed there.
It grew closer and closer. The track leveled completely out. The sled slowed down more. Before I had the time to really come to terms with it I arrived back at the building.
The sled slowed to a stop, gently pumping against another sled parked on the track. I sat there for a few moments, gasping in great big gulping fear breaths, trying to assure myself the ride didn’t have one last trick of its sleeve.
I looked around. The place was empty, deserted. The overhead lights were still on and the old Pepsi machine still glowed and buzzed, but the ticket booth was dark and empty, a metal gate pulled down over the ticket window.
Suddenly it hit me that I was free and I practically leapt out of the sled and onto the platform. I immediately collapsed. My legs were jelly and my head was spinning. I tried to stand up again and doubled over, dry heaving. Have you ever been out on a boat for a day and have that weird reverse motion sickness when you’re back on solid land? It was like that times a hundred. My inner ear was literally pounding, all the motion had really done a number on it.
I laid there for a few moments and eventually forced myself to stand up on my two wobbling legs. I looked around, a horrible certainty creeping into my mind that there would be no exit, no way off the platform but to my relief an exit turnstyle, one of those full height ones, was set into the fence that surrounded the ride property.
I went through it and found myself back on the main road. The truckstop was still there, still open but far less busy. My car sat in the same corner of the parking lot I had left it.
I allowed myself one look back, just one quick one. The metal skeleton of the Alpine Slide track sat there, dark and quiet but otherwise normal.
I stumbled-ran back to my car, dug the keys out of my pocket, and collapsed inside. When the door shut I let out a primal scream, the tons of fear and confusion and anger all fusing into a single, raw emotion. I screamed again and again.
After a few moments I felt like I was emotionally at least back to a place where I could act, although I wasn’t sure yet what to do next. Not really knowing what to do I cranked the car. The A/C had been on low when I shut off the car and it came roaring back to life and cold air blowing on me almost sent me back into a full on panic attack. I fumbled with the climate controls until the air stopped blowing directly on me, then calmed down enough to turn the heat on, helping to get the chill out of my bones. There was a half full bottle of water in the center console cup holder and I grabbed it and chugged it. Nothing ever tasted as good before or sense as that few ounces of water.
That was when I noticed the clock on the radio head unit. It was 4:17 in the morning. It had been about one, one thirty or so in the afternoon when I got on the accursed ride.
Over 15 hours. I had been on the goddamn ride for over 15 hours. Over half a day.
I just sat there. Warming up. Calming down. I was exhausted. I was dehydrated. I can’t even describe how my head felt. I probably had at least a minor case of hypothermia. I thought about going into the gas station and asking for help but what would I even say, and more than anything I just wanted to get away from this place. And I just wanted to get away. I wanted to be nowhere near that damn ride.
I put the Camaro in gear and pulled into the street and in panic I immediately slammed on the brakes. I was lucky there was no traffic on the road at that moment. The feeling of accelerating to just normal surface street speeds made me sick to my stomach. I gathered myself and very slowly accelerated the car I usually treated with a very heavy foot up to 30 miles an hour. Every time I tried to accelerate at a pace faster than “Old Lady Going to Church, Uphill” I would have a panic attack. I was okay once I was up to speed, but accelerating freaked me out after being on that ride.
I drove about 30 minutes, putting some arbitrary amount of distance between myself and the coaster. Eventually I made it back to where the twisty mountain road met back up with a major road that would eventually meet back up with the highway. After a few more minutes of driving I saw the onramp for the highway. There was one of those big truckstop travel plazas and pulled in, parking right up at the door. I smelled like pee and I can only imagine how I looked, but I didn’t care.
I kept a couple of emergency 20s in the back of my wallet and spent it on the biggest bottle of water the store had, an overpriced bottle of eye drops, and a huge travel mug of coffee. The clerk looked at me as if he was expecting me to either drop dead or rob him the entire time.
Back in my car I downed the coffee. I put a few eye drops in each of my eyes and sat there as the caffeine took effect until I felt like I could make it back to my apartment. The sun was just coming up when I finally pulled out of the truck stop and got on the freeway. I slowly, very slowly, accelerated up to highway speed, put the Camaro in cruise control, and let the miles start to drift away. I turned on the radio, I needed to hear human voices. Every time my mind went back to what had just happened I turned the radio up louder, eventually drowning it out with painful levels of rock music. I wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Yes looking back I know I was just in denial. I finally made it back to the crappy little apartment I had off campus, a little two story walk up studio. I let myself in and collapsed on the cheap couch. I was asleep before I even had the time to decide whether or not to do anything else. I woke up later that afternoon. I took a shower and ate a meal and didn’t think about the ride. I washed the pee stained filthy clothes I had been wearing and didn’t think about the ride. I went back to class and didn’t think about the ride. Every time I thought about the ride I forced it out of my head. I’m sure this wasn’t the most mentally healthy thing to do but what can you say?
I didn’t forget about it, don’t be silly. This isn’t the kind of thing you forget. One day while looking up something else in the university’s library my curiosity got the better of me and I looked up the Alpine Slide. No website but a few Google Map and Yelp mentions. None of them mentioned anything weird, certainly nothing even remotely like what I experienced. Near as I can tell it closed sometimes in the winter of 2012.
Life went on. I mean, that’s what it does. The next day was a little better. And the day after that a little better. And the day after that a little better still. I met a nice girl. Graduated. Got married. Got a nice house in the suburbs. Got a dog. Had a daughter. Spent a lot of time happy and not thinking about being trapped on an endless alpine coaster.And that was my life for many, many years after that.
Until a few weeks back when as a very different person I found myself driving a boring and safe mid sized family SUV through those same mountains. My wife Carol, 5 months pregnant, sat in the passenger seat, our 6 year old daughter Emily in a booster seat in the back, and Max our mixed breed mutt next to her. It had been a nice pleasant trip, driving back from visiting her folks.
I hadn’t thought about that fucking ride in so long I barely registered that I was in the same general area until it was too late. Suddenly I realized that little mountain tourist trap town was only a few minutes down the road. I swallowed hard and gripped the steering wheel hard. Carol was looking out the window at the scenery and Emily was deep into some kid’s Youtube video on an iPad. I forced myself to keep my breath steady as we rounded the corner.The town was still there, sorta. Time had not been kind to it. The gas station was still there, at some point it had been bought out by Shell. The tourist trap shops were still there. One of them was now a vape shop. The diner was closed, the building looking like it sat unused for a long time.
But of course that’s not what I cared about. A looked over at the site where the Alpine Coaster once stood. It was gone. The kitschy fake barn was gone. The site was just a bare concrete slab with a chainlink fence around it. Faded “no trespassing” and “for sale” signs hung off the fence. A pile of old, decaying lumber that might have once long ago been part of the structure covered part of the old lot. No sign of the track remained outside of some old concrete support posts dotting the side of the mountain.
I exhaled out a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding in. Soon the little town disappeared in my rear view mirror.
About a half hour later we stopped for gas. I pulled up to a gas pump across from a massive motorhome. Max stuck his head out the window and started barking at a little white dog, a toy breed of some kind, in the window of the motorhome. Carol and Emily immediately headed into the store to restock on snacks while I fueled up.
I stood there, a half smile on my lips as Max barked and wagged his tail in an attempt to attract the attention of the other dog while I filled up the tank, said dog doing an admirable job of ignoring him.
Right about the time I finished fueling up and cleaning the bugs off the windshield Carol returned from inside the store, Emily in tow, arms filled with two full sized bags of Salt and Vinegar Potato Chips and what looked to be a half dozen individually wrapped pickles.
I raised an eyebrow at the collection of food but knew better than to question a pregnant woman's snack choices.
“Should we take Max for a quick walk?” Carol asked. The travel plaza had a nice little gated dog walking area off to the side.
“Yeah probably not a bad idea, he’s been cooped up in the car for a few hours.” I said. Max, upon hearing his name and the word “walk” , forgot about the other dog and upgraded from wagging his tail to wagging his entire body while making whining sounds and staring right at me.
About this time I became half aware that the big motor home next to us was pulling away. I didn’t think much of it, outside of doing a quick automatic mental check to make sure Emily was well clear of the moving vehicle, but she was safely between me and our SUV, well out of the way.
But that was when Emily looked behind me and cheerfully yelled “Daddy look a roller coaster! Can I ride the coaster?”
It’s cliche as fuck I know but my blood went cold.
I turned around slowly, certain in my knowledge that terrible old decrepit Alpine Coaster would be there, having just popped into existence to trap me again.
That.. is not what I saw. Sure enough there was a coaster there, one I hadn’t noticed earlier because it had mostly been blocked by the motor home, but there it was. It was even an Alpine Coaster.
But it was not the same coaster I had encountered those years ago. That was immediately obvious. It was a small but modern and newish looking setup with neon lights and a bunch of people. There was an actual building where you bought tickets and a little snack stand.
“Daddy! Can we go on the coaster!” Emily asked again.
My mouth made motions but no words came out. I glanced over at Carol, hoping she’d say we didn’t have time but to my horror she smiled and said “You know what? That does sound like fun. Daddy will take you while I take Max for a walk.”
My mind raced, trying to think of a way to get out of it. But Emily was already dragging me across the parking lot to the entrance.
I patted my pocket, making sure my phone was in it. Every fiber of my being was screaming to run away. I slept walked through the line and the ticket booth while Emily bounced happily.
We got into a two seat plastic sled. This one was actually a lot nicer than the one my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. It had two nice cushioned seats, big grab handles, even a nice rollbar.
The sled started up the track. I fought back the panic. I swerved my head around, keeping the building in my view. I was terrified of losing sight of it. We made it to the top and Emily did a happy squeal as we started down the side of the mountain.
My heart raced. Any second, any second my mind told me we’d lose sight of the building and then the ride would never end. The ride sped down the mountain. My mind tortured me with thoughts of not only going through it again, but seeing Emily go through it. The ride went around a big, banking turn. Emily kept shouting happily. How long before Carol reported us missing I wondered? Could I keep Emily calm? What if it lasted even longer this time? What if this time it never ended?
And then we were back at the start of the ride. The same attendant who had helped us into the sled was helping Emily out. I stepped out. The attendant gave me a brief look but said nothing. I guess I looked a little wild eyed.
I was fine. Emily was fine. It had been a perfectly normal, fun ride.
“That was fun Daddy! Thank you!” Emily said. I forced a smile back. “It was fun.” I responded, hoping like I sounded like I meant it.
I took Emily’s hand and we walked back to the car. Max saw us coming and barked happily. Carol looked up from the pint of Ben and Jerry’s she had somehow acquired and added to her snack collection while we were gone and smiled at us.
“Did you have fun?” she asked.
“It was so fun Mommy!” Emily said.
Carol smiled down at her, but then looked at me and frowned. “Are you okay?” Carol could read my face a lot better than the attendant could. “You’re pale.”
I smiled and this time the smile felt real. “Ya know what. Yeah, I think I am okay.”
Carol looked a little puzzled, but didn’t press it. We loaded Emily back in her booster seat, stopped Max from trying desperately to eat half a discarded gas station hot dog off the ground and got him back in the car. Carol and her small collection of snack food took her place in the passenger seat and I got in the driver's seat.I smiled. I cranked the car. I put it in gear. I pulled out of the gas station and back on the road, this time accelerating just a little faster than I had in years.

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Tigers (22-22) @ D-backs (21-24)

First Pitch: 8:10 PM at Chase Field

Team	Starter	TV	Radio
Tigers	Jack Flaherty (0-3, 3.88 ERA)	BSDET	97.1
D-backs	Zac Gallen (5-2, 2.86 ERA)	ARID	98.7 FM , KQMR (ES)

MLB	Fangraphs	Reddit Stream	IRC Chat
Gameday	Game Graph	Live Comments	Libera: ##baseball

Line Score - Game Over

	1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	9	R	H	E	LOB
DET	0	0	0	0	0	0	6	2	0	8	15	0	11
AZ	0	0	0	0	0	2	0	1	0	3	8	0	6

Box Score

AZ		AB	R	H	RBI	BB	SO	BA
CF	Carroll	4	1	1	0	0	0	.189
2B	Marte, K	4	1	1	1	0	2	.287
DH	Pederson	3	0	1	1	0	1	.297
DH	Grichuk	1	1	1	0	0	0	.288
1B	Walker, C	3	0	0	0	1	2	.255
RF	Smith, P	3	0	1	0	0	1	.257
LF	Gurriel Jr.	1	0	1	1	0	0	.230
3B	Suárez, E	4	0	0	0	0	2	.211
C	Moreno	3	0	1	0	1	2	.239
RF	McCarthy	3	0	0	0	1	0	.274
SS	Newman	4	0	1	0	0	1	.253

AZ	IP	H	R	ER	BB	SO	P-S	ERA
Gallen	6.2	7	3	3	0	10	98-68	3.02
Mantiply	0.0	2	3	3	1	0	5-4	4.67
Martinez, Ju	0.1	1	0	0	1	0	16-9	0.69
Ginkel	1.0	4	2	2	0	0	26-18	4.91
Jarvis	1.0	1	0	0	1	1	25-16	4.56

DET		AB	R	H	RBI	BB	SO	BA
LF	Greene, R	6	1	2	0	0	1	.248
DH	Canha	4	1	1	0	1	1	.247
RF	Pérez, W	4	1	2	4	0	0	.300
RF	Carpenter, K	3	0	0	0	0	2	.270
CF	Vierling	1	0	0	0	1	0	.262
3B	Urshela	5	1	3	1	0	0	.290
2B	Keith, C	4	0	0	0	1	2	.190
1B	Torkelson	5	1	1	0	0	3	.226
SS	Báez, J	5	2	4	1	0	1	.207
C	Kelly, C	4	1	2	2	0	1	.232

DET	IP	H	R	ER	BB	SO	P-S	ERA
Flaherty	6.0	5	2	2	2	9	98-61	3.79
Lange	1.0	1	0	0	1	0	15-5	2.70
Chafin	0.2	2	1	0	0	1	11-7	3.68
Brieske	1.1	0	0	0	0	1	17-10	0.00

Scoring Plays

Inning	Event	Score
B6	Ketel Marte triples (2) on a fly ball to left fielder Riley Greene. Corbin Carroll scores.	1-0
B6	Joc Pederson singles on a ground ball to center fielder Wenceel Pérez. Ketel Marte scores.	2-0
T7	Javier Báez doubles (8) on a sharp line drive to left fielder Jake McCarthy. Gio Urshela scores.	2-1
T7	Carson Kelly singles on a ground ball to right fielder Pavin Smith. Javier Báez scores.	2-2
T7	Wenceel Pérez triples (4) on a fly ball to left fielder Jake McCarthy. Carson Kelly scores. Riley Greene scores. Mark Canha scores.	2-5
T7	Gio Urshela singles on a ground ball to shortstop Kevin Newman. Wenceel Pérez scores. Matt Vierling to 2nd.	2-6
T8	Carson Kelly doubles (2) on a ground ball to left fielder Jake McCarthy. Spencer Torkelson scores. Javier Báez to 3rd.	2-7
T8	Wenceel Pérez out on a sacrifice fly to left fielder Jake McCarthy. Javier Báez scores. Carson Kelly to 3rd.	2-8
B8	Lourdes Gurriel Jr. singles on a ground ball to right fielder Wenceel Pérez. Randal Grichuk scores.	3-8

Highlights

Description	Length
Zac Gallen against the Tigers	0:07
Jack Flaherty against the Diamondbacks	0:11
Bullpen availability for Arizona, May 18 vs Tigers	0:07
Bullpen availability for Detroit, May 18 vs D-backs	0:07
Bench availability for Arizona, May 18 vs Tigers	0:07
Fielding alignment for Arizona, May 18 vs Tigers	0:11
Bench availability for Detroit, May 18 vs D-backs	0:07
Fielding alignment for Detroit, May 18 vs D-backs	0:11
Starting lineups for Tigers at D-backs - May 18, 2024	0:09
Breaking down Zac Gallen's pitches	0:04
Zac Gallen's outing against the Tigers	0:22
Breaking down Jack Flaherty's pitches	0:04
Jack Flaherty's outing against the D-backs	0:22
Zac Gallen smirks at former roomate then K's Kelly	0:15
Corbin Carroll's triple	0:18
Christian Walker strikes out on a foul tip.	0:06
Jake McCarthy lines into an unassisted double play, shortstop Javier Báez. Eugenio Suárez out at 2nd.	0:18
Ketel Marte extends hitting streak to 17 games	0:28
Joc Pederson's RBI single	0:14
Javier Báez's RBI double	0:25
Carson Kelly's game-tying single	0:14
Wenceel Pérez's go-ahead triple	0:29
Gio Urshela's RBI single	0:15
Carson Kelly's RBI double	0:15
Wenceel Pérez's sac fly	0:21
Zac Gallen strikes out 10 across 6 2/3 innings	1:52
Andrew Chafin In play, run(s) to Lourdes Gurriel Jr.	0:15

Decisions

Winning Pitcher	Losing Pitcher	Save
Flaherty (1-3, 3.79 ERA)	Gallen (5-3, 3.02 ERA)

Attendance	Weather	Wind
	78°F, Roof Closed	0 mph, None

HP	1B	2B	3B
Nate Tomlinson	Chris Segal	Larry Vanover	David Rackley

Game ended at 11:04 PM.
Remember to sort by new to keep up!

SYNOPSIS: Walking your OP monster girlfriend home is easy. No one messes with you. Getting back to your house on your own? That's the tricky part.
What's worse than an eldritch building? How 'bout a bigger one?
First Previous (See NEXT>> in comments)
Chapter Cover Art (From Mood Writing Sample)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Norman took one look at the towering building to his left. Then he took off.
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“̷̵̵̷̶̷̶̶̸̶̶̸̴̡̛̮͉̹̪̼̙̤̲̤͔̗̮̥̣̜͓̟̞̃̔̈́̑̈̍͌̂̂̐̋͛̉̓G̵̶̸̷̴̸̵̵̴̶̸̷̸̴̶̨̢̧̞͈̠̜̳̪͎̬̜̱̫͚̝̩̑̒͐́͆̃̿̉̆̉̃̓̀̎̐͂̎̒̕̕͘͝͝Ǵ̷̷̷̴̸̸̷̷̷̷̵̨̢̞̥͓̰͖͙̰̝͖̩̺͍͎͉͌̽̂́͐̓̀͒̐͗́M̴̷̶̵̴̷̵̶̵̴̷̷̢̡̧̢̛̫̲͕͇̗̯͚̥͙͓͓̀̒͑͒̂̊̅̐͛̂̄͌̈̚͝M̴̷̶̵̴̷̷̶̷̬̼̭̗͍̺̳̩̱͍̂̄̾͂̔̽̇̀͝͝͝͠M̶̯̙̥͕̞̰̗̗͐̔!̸̞̞̬̼̖̩̈́̇͊͐̾͑͋̉!̷̧͈̘̬̆͑͝!̶̤̜̔̓̆̅̔͆͘͝”̸̨̧̼̭̫̒͜

.
The new hunting cry boomed through his body. It was much louder than the first building’s, albeit shorter, like a tap on the shoulder from a titan proclaiming its presence to the world.
Of course, the tap of a titan could flatten a man.
Norman fell. His legs had simply stopped working. Jaws clenched, he forced his will into wobbly muscles. His palms slammed into the waterlogged street, stopping the fall. With a sharp push, he sprang back to his feet and ran on.
Norman yanked out the remaining two flash grenades on the go, strung them together, armed and drew back for a throw.
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“̷̬̳̙̍̎̆G̴̥͇̥͔͕̫̈̀M̵̛͇̜͙͇̫͔̭̩̝̜̓̈̏̓̓̀͛̚͜͝͝M̷̩͈͉̘͙̿͌̃̽͂̃̏̏̓̾̈́͌̈́̉̅̄̉͘!̷̢̧̢̤͓̭̖̝̏̏̄̓̾̉̆͋͘͝!̵͍̱̼̮̯̺̲͙̖̮̗͓̻̓̊͂̒̔͐̎͘͘̚!̵̙͍̟̌͒̃͂̎͠”̶̡̛̠̱̭̞̹̟͉̒̎̎̂͂̐̈́̓̄̚̕

.
.
That quick boom pounded through him. His fingers faltered. The flash grenades slipped from his grip and fell. He was still recovering from the sound when they went off at his feet. The nightsight filtered the flash, so he didn’t go blind. He’d gutted the flash grenade’s speakers, so he didn’t go deaf. The peeping building could deafen him all on its own … no, this wasn’t a peeping building. He’d slew a peeping building. They were small fries by comparison.
This was an eyescraper.
Tentacles the width of busses unsheathed from its sides. Even if he’d managed to launch the grenades and bathe it in smitelight, he suspected that wouldn’t be enough.
Norman sliced at its eyes with a focused beam. It barely flinched. Maybe if it got close enough, he could affect it a bit. By then, it would be too late.
Throbbing chuffs thundered from the monster. It sounded like a laugh.
Norman shot it a defiant glare. He bolted. Not fast enough. He could feel the giant closing in. So, he moved faster. Then faster, and still faster. His muscles blared their warnings. Rain lashed his face. He felt the air begin to resist his movements as he reached a speed at which it mattered. It was in his way, so he pushed through it too. No one was there to tell him he was moving far faster than any human known to history. All he cared about was hearing that thing fall behind him, and so it did. The tremours of its tremendous movements grew fainter.
At the end of the street, an apartment building came into view. Norman threw himself against it, climbing with the reckless abandon of a madman. He was halfway to the top.
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“̷̧̨̭̹̘̥̮͖̤̻̥̬̌̀͒̔͌̊̀̚͜͜͠Ǧ̶̨̨̧̺̘̰̗̘̥̝̗̦̩͖͎͋̈͑͐̒̽̉̔͛̾̒́̕ͅM̴̨̉́̾̉͂͆̔̿̀̃̇̎̍͆̂̽͗̔͘͠ͅM̷̝̻̱̆̍͜!̴̮̬̯̮̦̖́͂̆͋̿̇̎̄̄̅̂͑̎̀̕͘͝͝͝!̸̲͎̲̼̠̮̱͖̥̭̤̩͓̘̜͈̟̖̮̰̦͖̀̂͗͂̽̈́̋͌͂̐̓̈̕!̸̜̆̿̋̔̽̕”̷̢̦̜̰̼̳̝͓̆͗̈́̆̆̑̃̾͑̀͗͒͆́͐͒̈́̿̽̕̕͜

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His grip went limp. He fell. Struck the ground. His head bounced. The world grew fu...z z y.
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W
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w
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_CHAT

• LEMMY.OUTA.HERE: (Stupse) Well, he ded.
• BAJANETTE11: ARN74, JUST GO AND FIND HIM!!!
• ARN74: HE DIDN’T SEND ME DE PIN! DIS BAAARE STRESS! NORMAN, YOU PUNK! YOU EMOTIONALLY INVESTED ME IN THIS CHANNEL! IF YOU DIE NOW I’M GONNA KILL YOU!

Something was yapping in the background, but it wasn’t important. He felt fine. Everything was fine. Why not rest? Why was he even-?

_CHAT

• ARN74: YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULDN’T LEAVE AMY!!

What? No he didn’t! Promises weren’t for trolls! Why would he leave Amy anyway?
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.
“̸̼͔̖̜̫͍͚̊́̽͆̓̂̋̋͐̕Ģ̴̢͕͉̯̺̗̖͔͙̪͓̻̯̫̭̙̱͕̠̭̩̌M̸̨̧̘̟̹̖̻̲͍̭͓͉̰͙̦̣̜͉̻̎̅͗̇̈́̈̏͌̓̾̀̈̈́͜M̵̢̢̖̯̦͍͕̝̯̥̹̪̠̥̰̝̖̊͛̀̇͜!̵̢̡̡͚͕̘̟͕̥̦̪͆̈́̿͆!̴̛̹͈̜̥͔̬͎̪̩͚̦̯̟̘̩̰̳̍̑̂́̌͌̎́̒͋̽̿̑͌͝͝!̴̛̥͕̪͂̂̂̈̓͆͗̇̄̈́̌̅̎͂̕̚̕͝͠”̷̧̧̛̠̝̰̞̘͙̥̖͎̭̞̜̳̟̓͆̌̊̃̔́͒͋̇̈́͘̚͠͝ͅ
.
.
Oh, right. There was a skyscraper running him down. To think he lived in a world where that made any sense. He rubbed his throbbing head. It was hard to think, though.

_CHAT

• ARN74: TRY AN CLIMB DE TING OPPA!

Brain fog would have to wait.
In two twos he jumped onto the side of the building and kept going up and up without breaking the momentum of the leap. Adrenaline had challenged gravity. Gravity lost. There was no pause to assess handholds. There was no rain stinging his face. In his mind, there was only ‘CLIMB, CLIMB, CLIMB!’ Crest the rooftop. ‘RUN, RUN, RUN!’ Descend the other side ‘JUMP!’ Gravity greedily reclaimed Norman, dragging him 4 storeys down at breakneck speed. He hit the ground in a parkour roll. Bruised a bone. Nearly fractured a shoulder. Wrenched his spine. Joints, muscle, ligaments almost popped. They didn’t.
He was running again.
Norman had never heard a building shred like paper. He’d never thought to wonder what it sounded like.
*( ( BMMM! ) ) ( ( BMM! ) ) ( ( BOOM! ) ) \*

SHHHHHRRRRRRMMMM!

Now he knew.
Those booms … was it the eyescraper’s tentacles breaking the sound barrier, or punching holes through the apartment building? Maybe both. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that it was tearing the building in two with the ease of one parting curtains. Buildings were not designed to be parted. Two became legions as the sundered building collapsed.
Norman rushed for an abandoned truck, slid beneath the trailer. Not quite fast enough. Most of the rubble didn’t reach him directly, but upon hitting the ground? It pulverised into a blast of cloud like a sandstorm. Hissing beneath the trailer, the dust stung at his ankles. He ignored it, racing for the truck’s cabin at the front. Perched on the step beneath the door, he braced as the dust raced beneath, around and above him. The cabin was his shield. He flinched to a duck when its windows shattered as the dust cloud blasted straight through them. The truck rocked and slid slightly, bombarded by wind and dust. It lurched as a chunk of debris finally reached it, crumpling the trailer like cheap foil.
Time to move.
Particles prickled Norman’s eyes, finding their way through the nightsight. He took a fresh glimpse of the path ahead before clouds of grey engulfed it all.
Memorised.
He dashed on. A split second later, the cabin was levelled under a larger slab of concrete. More sporadically thundered down around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, denying entry to any more particles. He scrambled through the street, dodging obstacles from memory. As for the concrete rainfall that couldn’t be seen? He had some prayers about that, but it probably came out like half-baked gibberish.
Norman chanced opening his eyes. They watered like crazy. At least most of the dust was gone. Behind him, the eyescraper’s menacing silhouette was picking through the rubble. Finally, an unblocked street was in sight. He rounded the corner.
.
“̵̨̢̮͕̻̲̺́͠G̵̣̒́̓̽̅̊͘͝Ọ̷̝̣͓͙͔̀ͅͅǪ̷̜̺͚̲̯̭̈́̍͂͑̋̋̅͂̅́M̷̨̤̭͈̯̤͋̾̏̈̅̉̀̏͘M̵̡̢̙̱͌̊̓͒́͌Ḿ̸̳͗̀̀͐͒͗́͠ͅ!̷͍͉̣̪̫͙̳̲̤̎̀̾̅̈́̔̎̑͘͜͝͝!̴̨͈͖̘̖̅͛̋̽͠!̸͎̩͓̫̥̼̫̊”̵̫̗̞̣̝̃̅̕͘͜͜͝ͅ
.
Another peeping building, rumbling in from the new street. Alright. Straight it was.
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“̷̢̧̻̹͚͔̾G̵̳̭̾̃̎̍̌̂̈́̂͛͘M̶̧̠͇͔͚͉̮͈̰͒͊́̏̔̄̾̊͐̒͂͜M̸̳͓̋͋̔͑̔̔̕͝Ő̷͓̟̱̮͓̍̂̾̽̇͘͠Ô̸̧̫͉̮͚̥̥̯̈̾͋̅͂͘̚M̶̢̫̥̰̮̪͙̬̙̗̺̽͒͐͌̋̈̄͆͝M̴̢̧̧̛̗͔͓̫̭̳̱͑̉!̵̡̛̛͍̲̓̅̑̈́̿̏͘̕͠!̸̧̖͔̣̩̏́͋̀͛͂̏̀̇̑͐!̴̧͕̝̮̤̱͈̬͋”̸͓̉̈́̑̎͊̌
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Maybe not. A third building emerged from the rainfall ahead. All streets blocked. He glanced about. All alleys still blocked. This really was a hunting net, but this much energy for a tiny human? Predators weren’t usually like this.
He ran for the nearest building that wasn’t occupied by eldritch calamari.

( ( BOOMM! ) )

The eyescraper’s tentacle crossed his path. Its supersonic shockwave sent him flying.
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Norman came to. Rain poured against his face as he lay on his back. How long was he out? Why was it so cold? The atmosphere didn’t quite feel right. It didn’t look right either. Something about the colours, or subtle lack thereof. Everything seemed a bit desaturated. Norman sat up and coughed his lungs out, evicting a mix of dust and rain water collected in his slackly gaping mouth. Buildings towered above him on every side, a bit too close for comfort.
.

“̸̮̼͍̻̯̲̹͓̬̻̓̍G̷̛̖̙̰̰̟̓Ḿ̸̧̨͊̊̔͒͌̆͆͘͠͝M̷̧̺̏̿̆͑͆͋̅͌̕͝G̵̰̺͇̺̯̲͇̠͖͂͜M̸̡̨͕̹̗̥̎͑́̾!̸͇͙͚̝̩͕̙̒!̵͙̬̮̪̏̍!̶͔̪͉̙̘̃̐̄͝”̶̡̡̥̫̻̝̜̫͙̩͛ͅ

.
Oh, right, those weren’t just buildings.
Norman raised a finger, gesturing to wait. “Could you *kaff!* quit subwoofin’ at me for, like, ten seconds!”
“Plucky.̵͚͐͝ for all seasons I .̵̦̺͐̅see,” came a skin-crawling voice from behind him.
Norman swung back his smitelight. It barely moved half a foot, then it stopped. Rather, something stopped it. That ‘something’ was cold. So cold. His wrist felt the chill without even touching it.
Norman turned, slowly, so as not to trigger further attacks. He found himself looking up.
Eight feet tall. Dark grey skin. A grin that went a little too wide. Dagger teeth. An open-chested jacket, revealing sinewy muscles with luminous markings like tattoos. His ebony eyes bore penetrating white pupils. Of all his traits, the dreadlocks stood out most. They belonged in a nightmare, dancing through the air with a life of their own. Somehow, they looked blacker than black, absorbing every ray of light or heat that came their way. That icy chill in the air shifted with the movements of his dreadlocks. They seemed to drink life from the air itself. Norman almost found it hard to breathe. One dreadlock clutched Norman’s smitelight, only by the tip, but its grip was iron.
Norman stared the tall man down.
The nyctal’s grin grew by a smidgeon.
Taking a calculated risk, Norman released the smitelight. Perhaps a peace offering would do good.
“Good.̷̧͋͌̎̿ boy,” the tall man nodded, admiring the smitelight as the dreadlock rotated it. “Clever.̴̧̤̩͈͓̖͂ͅ toy.”
Norman noted an understated Jamaican accent in his voice.
More dreadlocks slithered across the smitelight, as if tasting its every nook and cranny.
Norman did his best to look casual as he scanned for an escape route. The eyescraper’s tentacles had wrapped around the street, fencing him in.

_CHAT

• BAJANETTE11: 😳
• DARCIE222: okay, i’m back
• HARD-BACK-M8N: who you is again?
• DARCIE222: i left after the twilight angel sleep paralysis
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: And you’re back for more?
• DARCIE222: wonna know it impossible to stay away from a channel like dis

Norman looked at the tall nyctal again.

_CHAT

• DARCIE222: 😲 WHO IS THAT?!? AND WHY IS HE KIND OF …??? 😍
• MUNSTER-VERSER: I KNOW!!!
• BAJANETTE11: HE LIKE A VAMPIRE RASTA MAN! ❤❤❤
• ENTO_MOLLY: MOVE OVER MIGUEL O’HARA!! 😍🥰😘
• BAJANETTE11: NORMAN ASK FOR HE NUMBER!!!
• NORMAN: I HERE ABOUT TO DIE AND WONNA WANT HE PHONE NUMBER!?!

The nyctal’s eyes shifted to Norman inquisitively. He frowned, raising an eyebrow as the comments piled up. Finally, he smirked mischievously.
“Your fanbase has peculiar tastes,” purred the tall man.

_CHAT

• ENTO_MOLLY: 😳 Is … he talking about us? HE CAN SEE THE CHAT???
• DARCIE222: THE WAY HE SAID IT!!!
• DARCIE222: HBVJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJKL;K''
• LEMMY_OUTA_HERE: Did she just pass out on the keyboard?
• LIKKLE-BOY: lol!
• ARN74: you’re simping. Norman’s about to die, and you’re simping

The tall man handed Norman his smitelight.
Norman’s suspicious gaze flicked between the nyctal and the weapon. Finally, he reached out and took hold of the smitelight.
It crumbled in his fingers like ice-cold ashes. If not for the insulation gloves, he might have gotten frostbite.
The nyctal laughed.
Norman didn’t find it particularly amusing.
The tall man sauntered towards the eyescraper. Beyond it was a darkness even the nightsight had difficulty piercing. He beckoned Norman as if it were an afterthought.
“Please come in, .̵̭̻͌̓̂Norman.̶̲͕͇̅̑̚,” the nyctal instructed.
Norman stared stubbornly, hands in his pockets as he rocked on his heels. He felt for his smartphone. It wasn’t there. When had he lost it?
Without looking back, the nyctal held up Norman’s phone. It disintegrated between his fingers as he rubbed them together.
Norman glared. At least the guy hadn’t pickpocketed deeply enough to find other things.
“Hey. To whom do I owe the … pleasure?” Norman almost had to push the last word through his teeth.
The nyctal stopped in the eyescraper’s doorframe. Shrouded in shadow, little could be seen of him, save the piercing white pupils peering out. Then the glint of his Cheshire grin.
“.̴̜͓̭̻̤̍̈́̆͑͑John Crow.̸̻̮̓̈́̏̓͘,” he answered, before receding into the darkness.
The eyescraper’s tentacles dragged in across the street, corralling Norman towards the building. With an exasperated groan, he trudged towards the main entrance.
“I want my bed,” grumbled Norman.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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Scott Masterson had first met Scarlett at a rooftop party in downtown Dallas. Their age and the time of year were both in late springtime, them in their mid twenties and the date in early May. He had on a sharp yet breezy blazer and she astonished in a thigh length sleeveless blue dress.
“Oh hey Scott I don’t believe you two have met…” his then happily married friend had remarked with a slow swinging open hand toward her.
“Scott Masterson…reluctant friend to this knucklehead” he said with a tight lipped grin, trying not to be so obvious with his instant rapture.
“Scarlett…a pleasure…”
Her hand was so delicate to Scott’s touch. They locked eyes. It was like looking back through centuries of connection, endless days of laying in the sun next to the Seine River, or rising to Hollywood fame in the 1940’s and only having each other who would understand the glory and the pain of it all, or generations of quiet, simple country love that would bear such beautiful, happy children that would go on to raise beautiful, happy children, all with their dark blue eyes. Yes, the memories of every love story since the beginning of time was swirling right there in Scarlett’s irises. Scott had to catch himself before he stared embarrassingly too long.
“Sorry Scottie here doesn’t get out often” his friend quipped, which Scott appreciated actually, it helped him snap back to professionalism.
“Well I don’t either…at least I prefer not to.” Scarlett’s words flowed through the air like a flock of rose petals.
“Hey, kindred spirits.” Scott was really sensing a rising energy out of her, they had barely broken eye contact.
“Well, I’ll let you two have at it, I got a wife around here somewhere. Hey…Scott and Scarlett…not bad, not bad.” His friend exited stage right with a sly chuckle.
“Nice guy…so…what are you drinking, Scarlett?” Scott looked around for the emptiest corner of the rooftop bar, hoping to find a nice place for them to be able to hear each other. This night had just become something.
“That depends, Scott…what do you like?”
Oh man.
Well, as you can expect, the evening blossomed into a beautiful, long winded conversation that etched a long list of similarities between the two. They both lived in the city, had never married, and had dreamed of stable, simpler lives far away from tall buildings and busy streets. The next morning Scott awoke in her arms, which warmed much deeper than just his skin. He could feel her soothing his very identity, his future, everything. Her arms were tailor made to fit his very soul, and he had never felt more safe and at home.
“Mmm…you can stay right here…” she whispered, eyes still closed.
“I will…I will”
They both fell back asleep, into a dream that wouldn’t end upon waking.
Two years passed and suddenly they lived that simple backwoods life, way out where acres of land far out-populated the few and far between people. They took a lovely home, which happily looked over a long backyard, right up to a lively yet mostly undisturbed river. Their only neighbor within a mile was an older ranch worker named Charles, who rarely made himself perceivable. Days were spent way on into town where they both had offices. They didn’t mind the commute. Nights were spent mostly like this night, cuddled outside near a lovely little fire, with a slowly shrinking amount of wine sitting between them. Enjoying their Kingdom. Tonight, however, would prove to be a special night, for many reasons, all unexpected.
“Honey, I’ve been thinking…” Scott began, sitting up and opening his hands to the warmth of the fire.
“Oh?” Scarlett also sat up, eyes widening.
“So look, Scarlett, the last two years have been the best of my life. An absolute dream…”
She held her breath, her focus darting between his eyes and mouth.
“Yeah?”
“We have everything we ever want out here. But…what if there’s more?”
“More?” She had envisioned this very conversation hundreds of times.
“Our dreams have come true, but what if we…made some new dreams?” Scott turned and embedded his eyes into hers. He burst into a big smile.
“Scott…I thought…”
“Nevermind what I said” he cut her off, which he always made a point to never do, but this was a good exception.
“I’m ready, Scarlett…let’s have a family.”
“Ohhhh Scott, oh Scott”
They hugged tight enough to where it hurt.
“Well, in that case, we may need to open another bottle.” She said playfully, bouncing her eyebrows twice.
“Excellent. I’ll be right up. I’ll put this fire out and then start yours up.”
“Oh stop!” She bounded away girlishly, up the snowy back steps and into the house.
Scott let out a big sigh that he could see in the cold air and sat back in his chair, taking in his decision. He really was ready. He had secretly been keeping a long list of names that he liked and that he thought would work in front of Masterson. Especially little girl names. He stared into the campfire flames, getting lost imagining the three of them sitting right here, a little girl resting securely in Scarlett’s arms, as Scott had found himself, and stayed within these past two years.
Suddenly his trance was broken when, from the road in front of their house, came the sound of a vehicle approaching at high speed. Scott snapped his head back toward the house to get a better listen. He could see, around the house and through the trees, a large truck barreling down the country road, its headlights racing and bouncing with intensity. In an instant, it had passed up the road and out of sight.
“Huh?”
Soon, after a moment of silence, another sound echoed into the night. This sound rattled Scott to the bone and tore all that was right in his world into pieces. A sharp, bellowing squeal. His eyes shot over to his neighbors house, which was about a tenth of a mile to his right but still had a couple dim lights on that he could see. The shriek seemed to come from there.
Then, more squeals. It was hellish. More than animal but not quite human. Scott stood up. He heard crashing and tearing and further destruction coming from Charles’ house.
“Scarlett!! Scarlett!” He yelled toward his house, where he looked and could see her silhouette behind the curtains at the kitchen window. She didn’t seem to hear him.
He turned back toward his neighbors. The chaos had gone quiet. Not a half a moment after, though, he heard something big barreling through the trees as fast as that truck had been sprinting. Running, running furiously between the two houses. Searching, hunting. Scott was taken aback so hard that his heel had caught the edge of the fire pit, throwing him down only inches away from severe burns. He had knocked his head in the whiplash, making him groan and take a moment to regain his bearings.
“SCARLETT!!!!”
He screamed out toward his home as he sat up, rubbing a quickly rising bump on the back of his head. He heard a loud breaching on the side of his house. The patio door. No. No. Then, all hell broke loose. Scarlett started wailing and crying and he could hear crashes of plates and glasses and deep guttural roars coming from the kitchen inside. Shadows danced in a frenzy from the curtained windows. Sounds of instinctual survival seemed to be thrown from Scarlett inside. Sounds of defeat. Sounds of agony. Sounds of insanity. Scott sprang to his feet, his equilibrium being more damaged than he realized after his fall. He had to catch his hand on a chair to stabilize himself. Scarlett’s symphony of pain had gone quiet. Soon after something burst back out the patio door again and off in the same direction as that truck before.
Scott struggled back up to the house, slowly climbing the wintered, crunching stairs that led to the patio. He no longer yelled for Scarlett. In fact, the only thing that came to his senses was the sound of his own heavy breathing. Everything else had been turned off, save for a heavy and sudden dread that he had prayed he would never feel. He came to the side of his house where indeed the patio door had been busted and forced open. It laid inside the kitchen, its hinges snapped like toothpicks. Scott, with eyes wide and twitching, slowly entered his home and looked into the kitchen.
He didn’t scream. He didn’t even change his breathing. He didn’t blink. He just got a good long look at what laid before him.
Everything was broken. The fridge was on its side, the door hanging open and food and drink scattered all over the floor. The table was upended, its legs to the ceiling. A chair was resting on the counter, possibly having been thrown in defense. And Scarlett. Oh Scarlett. She…was…everywhere. She was all over the floor. She was sprayed against the walls. She was stuck to the window. She was in the sink.
Scott gently walked through the carnal mess and sabotage of his world. Long ago he had known exactly what he would do if something anywhere near this bad were to happen to him. He politely stumbled through the kitchen, down the hall, and into the bedroom. He opened his closet door and lowered a fire safe from the top rack. He unlocked it with a passcode. 511, after that warm May date when he had first met Scarlett. In the safe was a Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Scott took it out, along with a box of bullets, loaded one into the gun, put the safe back on its rack, and walked out of the closet, sitting on his bed. Their bed. Where they should’ve been laying right at this very moment, working toward a happy future. Where he would’ve kissed her forehead and put a hand on her growing midsection. Where they would have awoken on Christmas morning to the sound of children who were way too excited to remain asleep. Where they would’ve grown old. Where they would’ve smiled at each other through wrinkles, satisfied with all the love they shared and passed on to the next generations. Where they would’ve held each other in deep peace as they finally fell asleep to this world.
“I will…I will”
In one quick motion Scott pulled back the hammer and stuck the barrel of that pistol right up against his Governor and blew himself away, far away, right back into Scarlett’s loving arms.
Jeremy “Smallmouth” Bassett quickly yet stealthily made his way back to his Uncle’s house. He hugged the sides of the dark country road, keeping his eyes and ears wide open as to notice any sounds pertaining to the event that he had just witnessed there in the field next to the huge blaze. His only thought was Uncle Chuck. His house was right on the warpath of that horrible thing and Smallmouth had to go to him and make sure he was safe. He dared not go back to his truck, which would bring a lot of unwanted attention. No, Smallmouth walked and walked and finally saw the lights of his Uncle’s house. He carefully approached the front door from the shadowed driveway. Suddenly it occurred to Smallmouth that something was very wrong here. The door was busted in, having been plowed through by something very large and very strong.
“No…no…no”
Smallmouth slowly entered the house. The kitchen and living room were a disaster, chairs and tables and bottles strewn about and shattered. Bloody hoof-prints covered the floors, each of them the size of dinner plates. Smallmouth heard no noise. He felt himself well with tears, his nose a faucet that he began to sniff up as he worked his way through to his Uncle’s room, the door there also being broken in. A small whine growing in his throat, Smallmouth peaked into his uncles bedroom.
It was all in tatters. The bed had been attacked and shredded, the mattress being ripped up and thrown about as if it were made of cotton candy. More bloody hoof-prints were painted all over the brown carpet. Smallmouth trembled and put a hand up to his wet face. He didn’t see a way that his Uncle was anywhere near alive, knowing what he knew about the monster that had been in this house.
Smallmouth slowly walked to the living room, to the only little table that had been untouched in the attack. It was almost as if the bottle of whiskey teleported into his hand from the overturned cabinet, unopened. He fixed that real quick.
Soon he was several pulls deep of the only thing in the world that he knew would make him feel better, even if only for a few hours. He found his pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket and lit one up, although he was indoors. What did it matter? He sat in a chair that he had turned right side up and set the bottle on the table and looked out the back window into the pitch black. He cried for his Uncle and he cried for the world. He cried for himself. He cried for broken promises and his own weakness. He drank and drank until his vision shook from right to left everywhere he looked. At first he didn’t even notice the figures on the back porch. Then his vibrating focus did pick up on them, but by then it was too late. It was so dark out there but in their outlines he could see they wore long robes and hoods.
“HA!! COME AND GET ME! HAHA!! YOU COME AND YOU GET ME!!” Smallmouth boasted with a delusional amount of courage.
A creak escaped from the kitchen and he drunkenly slung his head over toward it. Three more figures stood there. Or was it just one? Smallmouth was none the wiser. All at once the hooded intruders from both inside and outside began to chant a strange, twisted rhyme in strikingly low and dissonant harmony:
“A sliver…of liver…goes down…with a shiver… …and gives…your gullet…to gall… …but drink…the Cider…that drowns…the Spider… …and you…will be free…of it all… …so tighten the grip…that loosens your lips… …O raise…the bottle…of brown… …and wake tomorrow…to find…in sorrow… …ANOTHER…SPIDER…TO…DROWN”
Smallmouth groaned at them in dissatisfaction and turned his bottle up again and began to chug the whiskey. As he did they repeated the chant except this time it was louder and closer. By the time Smallmouth had finished his bottle he was quickly losing consciousness. This wasn’t just whiskey. As he closed his eyes he felt hands grabbing him from all sides.
Smallmouth pulled open his sticky eyelids. His head felt like someone had bowled a strike into it. Wind froze his face. The smell of sickly, wet iron stung his nostrils. His vantage was higher than usual. Way higher. He was looking out into another field, but from easily ten feet up. He saw an old church, formerly painted white but now a flaky pale-beige. He heard the friction of a quick pull of rope below him, matched with a slight, tight pain at his feet. He looked down. A red-robed figure was fastening him against a wooden structure of some kind. His feet sat on a small flat platform perpendicular to a post that went from the ground up past smallmouths head. He couldn’t move his arms, so he quickly shot his eyes side to side. They were also tied to another horizontal post. A cross. He was being tied to a crude wooden cross. His shirt had been removed, exposing a hairy, overweight belly. Smallmouth tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, unintelligible grumble. He was still drunk. No, this was more than that. He was under the influence of something strong and absolutely inhibitive. He wallowed again, and took in a deep breath. The smell of iron once again hit his nose. He looked down at himself. He was covered in a thick, red liquid. That wasn’t just the smell of iron. He had been splashed full body with blood.
“Now now, young servant…” the figure at his feet had finished his task and took a couple of steps out to admire his own handiwork.
“Ahh…perfect. The picture of martyrdom. Yes, you will always be remembered, Brother Bassett. You are to be the first Saint of The New Bible.” He opened his arms in his declaration.
Smallmouth looked up into the cold night sky. The moon shown down, giving everything a midnight spotlight. It was a gorgeous waxing gibbous, big and bright but not quite full. Yes, he was in a great big snowy field that housed an old worn down church. From the windows of the church he saw candles glowing, showing dark heads and shoulders looking out to him, also covered in loose hoods, hiding faces. He was hanging on a cross about one hundred feet from the old church. In front of the cross was a partially covered pit, a couple of two by fours supporting double armfuls of branches and dead leaves.
The figure at the base of the cross put his arms back to his side. He was still looking right at the drugged Smallmouth’s dumbstruck face. Even with a veiled mouth you could hear the twisted smile in his voice.
“Tonight you will help us finally defeat this legion, Smallmouth. You see, it may have the evil spirits within it, but at its core, it is still an owned animal. An animal that knows its Master very well. An animal that will remember the smell of its Master. You, my friend, are covered in its Master right now. And you are hanging on a cross, the symbol of this brute’s most hated enemy. But take heart, young Brother. Before you is our pit of spears. Yes you will attract the beast, but our Divine plan will intercept it and the beast will fall and be pierced. And then, oh dear brother, you will forever be immortalized. You will be purified in fire by the hands of your church brethren. Out of your screams and into the smoke the iniquities of all will be released. We will go on to preach your good example and your sainthood forever and ever.”
Smallmouth began to drool and hum pathetically. He could hear and understand the words of the robed man but he couldn’t fight back. His body was useless, limp inside its rope confines. All he could do now is think, and watch, and wait, and dread his fate.
The figure turned away from him, walking over near the pit and gathering up a bundle of brambles and throwing them over the last open area, covering it completely. He then crunched through the snow over to the front door of the old church, groaning open the door. He stood at the dark doorway for a few seconds in silence, and then began to make a noise. An over exaggerated pig squealing noise, high pitched and infuriating. Soon after other voices from inside the church began to do the same, their wailing echoing out of the building and all across the field, loudly signaling, calling out. It may as well have been a dinner bell. Not a half minute after they began the distress signal it was loudly answered by a distant squall. A furious squall.
This was it. Either way it happened Smallmouth was about to die. Experience terror, and then die, and not even have the ability to put up any kind of defense. It wasn’t fair. He just slowly lifted up his head and watched out far into the moonlit, white field. He then raised his heavy head further and took a good gander at the moon and stars for the last time.
“God,” he thought to himself, still having full inner monologue yet no outer motor function, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry for being what I am. I am so sorry for ending up in this place. It’s only my own fault. If it wasn’t for me being so stupid and messy and drunk and terrible then this wouldnt be happening to me.”
He began to shed tears that washed lines into the blood on his face.
“Please forgive me God. Please, please, please forgive me for all of my sins. This is it. I’m gonna die. I’m gonna die. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!!” He yelled inside his own mind, hoping and trying to send his silent words as far up into heaven as they could go.
He lowered his eyes back to the ground. He looked over at the church again. The windows were empty, the candles were extinguished. Those hooded cowards were hiding from their own handmade sacrificial service. All was quiet for a long pause until a much louder, closer bleating began at the edge of the forest not even three hundred feet away from Smallmouth’s glazed over eyes. It was time, and it was too late for a miracle.
Out of the woods, slowly and heavily, stomped the massive hog. As it marched closer and closer Smallmouth could see its white, boiled over eyes and black-burnt skin. Its jaws were flying open and snapping its sharp, pocket knife-sized teeth together in an intimidating “clack”. It was now less than a hundred feet away, the dark old church to its right shoulder. It stopped, its pale glowing eyes fixed right on Smallmouth on the crude cross. It truly was a monster. It stood as tall as a man and as long as a canoe. Around its murderous mouth were stains of red, the remnants of all that it had taken from the world on this unholy night. In its clanging jaws were bits of flesh. It snorted and scowled.
Then, in a fury, it wailed that horrible squeal and started off into a dead sprint. It galloped and galloped toward Smallmouth at a high, blistering speed. It kept yawping and howling as it cut the distance from the cross down to fifty feet, forty feet, thirty, twenty. All at once it passed over the covered pit and plunged in. In his doomed, dead eyed stupor Smallmouth could hear what sounded like paint being dumped from a rooftop onto concrete. Trails of black liquid squirted and splashed up from the pit, which had been uncovered in the fall of the beast. Unbelieving, Smallmouth saw dozens of steel spear tips standing up from the dug-in ground. Right in the middle of them the beast was stuck. The sheer weight of the animal had caused the spears to pierce through its tough skin, sticking out of its back, soaked in black blood. One spear had stabbed right under the hogs chin, passing up through its jaws and out its black snout. It made agonized sounds. It roared and roared and shook the spears inside it, beginning furiously, then growing weaker and weaker within seconds. Finally, it let out one last weak little squeal, before it went still and quiet.
Smallmouth was frozen both physically by drugs and constraints and mentally by shock. His mouth hung open toward the pit of spears, his vision blurry. He took in a deep, troubled breath and let out a moan of disbelief and relief. The old church doors sprang open, and the sound of jubilation within flowed out into the night. The red robed figures flocked out of the building toward the pit, arms raised in celebration. They surrounded the hole, getting a good look at their success and their enemies defeat. Some held additional spears and began further stabbing the dead animal, causing more black blood to be shed up at them. They all yelled loudly and triumphantly. Some danced around the pit. Some skipped over to Smallmouth on the cross and danced around him, slapping his legs and spinning in circles.
Smallmouth looked on at the raucous celebration, both in utter disbelief of their trap actually working and also in turmoil. How long now until they fully execute their plan.
A taller robed man, whose voice matched the same one who spoke to Smallmouth as he tied his feet, spoke up, sounding almost happily intoxicated.
“Ahh yes my Brothers!! It is done!! We have won!!!”
They all whooped and cheered.
“Brother Norman, go into the church and bring me the small tank of fuel. Let us send our dear Saint Bassett to the Holy lands, where he will be adored for all eternity!”
They all clapped and hollered. One figure began childishly skipping away from the pit and over toward the front door of the church.
Then, it happened.
From the pit all of a sudden a great blaze erupted instantly. It stood as tall as the cross, and it burned a furious red and blue. It raged and raged, blinding Smallmouth and making him clumsily turn his face away from the heat.
All of the figures panicked, screaming and scattering away toward the church. They didn’t get far. Up from the fiery pit, dozens of long, long, black arms, adorned with six hooking claws emerged and stretched out of the flames and latched on to the legs of those trying to escape. Smallmouth heard crying and wailing from the men as the black, razor clawed-hands of the legion grabbed them and began pulling them back, into the blazes. One by one the red robed people were dragged into the flames, their clothes catching instantly. Smallmouth could see violently shaking bodies in the evil furnace. Oh, the screams. Above the tortured howling, the sound of laughing broke out. Deep, menacing laughter, hundreds of voices, echoed up into the air from the burning hole. Then, in one extinguishing squeeze, the ground swallowed the entirety of the fiery pit, leaving it completely covered in dirt, still and quiet. Soon after, and just like the pit of spears, the old church building caught in an instant and raging fire, quickly toppling the walls and dropping the steeple into its ruins. The smoke towered high in the night sky, which had just began to hint at a pale morning blue. Smallmouth hung on his cross in utter horror and surprise.
As the late evening hours glowed into early morning the smoke eventually tapered off, as Smallmouth’s drugs finally began to wear off as well. The fires of the church did garner long distance attention, though. Just as Smallmouth was able to regain control of his muscles and voice he heard emergency sirens call out into the cold morning air. Not long after, two fire trucks, an ambulance and a sheriffs truck tore into the field and toward Smallmouth on the cross. Not long after Smallmouth could feel the tied ropes being cut loose by firemen, their uniforms easily the best red clothes he had seen all night.
“What on God’s green Earth happened here son?” A bearded man with a dark hat and brown shirt and pants asked Smallmouth once he had been lowered down from the cross and sat on the ground with a shock blanket around his shoulders. The Sheriff, no doubt.
“God’s green Earth. It really is God’s, isn’t it?” Smallmouth whispered, staring out across the cold field. Then, at the very place he was staring, an old, familiar truck came barreling out of the gravel road in the woods and through the field in the steadily growing morning light. It was Uncle Chuck’s truck. It hurried over toward the other emergency vehicles, parked, the driver’s side door burst open, and Uncle Chuck came bounding out over to Smallmouth, his eyes wide and his mouth a wonderfully shocked “O”.
“JEREMY! JEREMY!!!” He basically fell on Smallmouth in a tight, warm hug. Smallmouth was caught off guard by Chuck using his real name.
His Uncle held him for several seconds and then let up, but kept his hands on Smallmouth’s shoulders.
“I thought you were dead.” Both of them said at almost the exact same time.
“I came back and your house was a mess and there was blood everywhere. I thought you were dead.” Smallmouth weakly spat out.
“Well, I woke up and you were gone, son, so I walked to the ranch to get my truck. I was worried bout ya son. I came back home and the whole place had been turned upside down. Blood on the carpet. I just thought the worst. Then I tried my neighbors house. Buddy, they’re dead. Looks like some wacko murder-suicide if I ever saw one. Scott probably tried to come kill us too and wrecked the place when he found it empty. I don’t know. But what I DO know is that you are right here! You are okay Jeremy!! Ahhh Praise Jesus!!”
“It’s not that, Uncle. That isn’t what happened out here. It’s..it was a..a, uh…”
Smallmouth’s fried brain couldn’t even comprehend what he had witnessed over the past few hours. It was all a violent blur.
“Dont worry bout it son, you can tell me everything on the way to the hospital. We gotta go get you checked out and cleaned up. C’mon.” He helped Smallmouth up and they walked over to the ambulance, his Uncle’s arm thrown around his shoulder.
Smallmouth would be sent home later that afternoon. It would take him and his Uncle a long time to sort through the chaos of that deadly night and rebuild their lives. But life kept on. Smallmouth would remain living with his Uncle, and would begin a job working with him down at the ranch. Together they started to attend a local church. Smallmouth never touched a drink or a drug or even a cigarette ever again, and remained steadfast in his newly revitalized faith.

ORANGE
You will never be warm once you die, but you will never be cold or hot either. However, is this really a give-and-take? Or do you lose it all, the privilege to feel pain?
…Heaven was not how Blodelshein thought it would be. It was not a place of clouds and warmth, but a winter forest, a running creek melody nearby.
By the serene lullaby of the mountain, she began to fall asleep once more. It was cold, but that did not bother her much, for she was used to it.
Zzz…—
— It was only when she noticed a massive ball of snow, tumbling toward her from a mountain at an incredible speed that she decided to hurriedly stand up. Thankfully, a boulder destroyed the ball with a CRASH, and it split into nonlethal chunks. However, she was unfortunately still smashed into the freezing water.
It seemed that she was still bound to this plane of suffering…
“Ouch…”
From the pile of snow rose a man — a foreign man. Probably a dark forest elf from the shade of his skin. He was equipped in light gear, topless except for hoisters and elementary armour, in a distinctly Avangardian style. What was he doing inside the colossal snowball? Blodelshein’s eyes began to glow a feint purple as she activated her talent to learn more about his mind, and there she learned that he too, was a hero, and so inquired.
However, only a strange response returned. Inferring from their current situation, the position of mountains and the season… They must’ve all been reincarnated far into the future or past from different points in time. While she spoke in an evolved variation of Alsdionn, the man spoke Amstanvan, the same language as Kyriekaos. Thankfully, her talent ⌈First Person Theatre⌋ allowed her to peer into the realm of the Psyche, which stored all infromation regarding one’s thoughts, perception, motor control and dreams. This meant that she could read the minds of others, and make small changes onto the libraries of mind when needed.
During the usage of this skill the time in the physical realm was slowed to a snail’s pace, and all she had to do was to was to find the passage that kept all knowledge on his language, and copy it for her own use.
After only seconds, they were able to have comprehensible conversations.
“...You’re a hero too?” asked the man.
“Y-yeah…”
“That’s great! Here, let me help you a bit.”
The elf lit a fire above his fingertip, and while Blodelshein expected him to simply use the flame to try to warm them, he instead lit himself on fire.
“Wait! Wait! What are you doing?!” said Blodelshein as she began splashing the freezing water in his direction.
“Woah! It’s fine! See?” replied the hero, blocking the attack.
Blodelshein soon realized that the self-immolation must’ve been some kind of strange spell, but she saw that ths light wounds from his fall began to heal themselves.
“No need to worry about my talent.”
“...Anyways, what were you doing in that snowball?”
“Hm… Well, I think I was just resurrected atop a mountain, but I was feeling a bit drowsy so I fell asleep, and now I’m here!”
“Huh…”
It was truly impressive how he slept through the… entire forest.
“I’m Sacrosanct by the way, what’s your name?”
“...Blodelshein.”
“Great! But what now…”
The two returned away from the water, and began to dry themselves with Sacrosanct’s talent. Strangely, the flames did not hurt to touch, and instead felt like the embrace of the summer sun, and it even healed injuries — though only Sacrosanct’s. It was no ordinary fire, perhaps a new state of matter of a new element.
“Incredible…”
“Pretty cool, huh? I call this talent simply ⌈PASSION⌋!”
“Hm.”
“Huh? Don’t you want to learn more about my talent?”
“...I’m fine.”
Blodelshein did not need to hear any more. She had already read his mind, and learned all about his talent. However, she was unable to access any deeper memories, such as his origin and life before resurrection.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
Soon, a loud noise of blades being sharpened began ringing throughout the forest. It was truly a strange sound, as if inviting any opponents to challenge.
“...Well, shall we check it out?”
In the hidden retreats of the forest, lay a massive tree named Golgono, protected by its neighbouring disguises and hostile creatures. It was an area specifically barriered by a chainlink fence, something neither heroes had seen before.
After climbing over the fence, assisted by Sacrosanct, the two continued to approach the grinding sound.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
During their travel, they noticed various changes in the environment — new species of mushrooms and flowers, as well as unseen critters. It was a strange new world, but it was still clear that they were within the nation of the Goddess. However, this new world reminded Blodelshein that Wundergartenn, the nation she had established, must’ve been long gone.
Blodelshein glimpsed a familiar vision — a vision of her past.
During her era, there were no forests or lakes. No grass, no clouds. This was not due to industrialization, but due to a terrible war against Ssalgram, which became Sonosis afterwards. It was a war that shook both nations to their core, and the war was long and excruciating, lasting five generation of heroes — over a hundred years. Blodelshein was the one to finally bring an end to the conflict, yet the scars left were unreversable. It came to be known as the “End of Eden War” as the Goddess was sealed away to preserve humanity.
Blodelshein continued to face forward as it seemed that her journey was not yet over. As long as she lived, the suffering would continue and so be it. To live to live, to die to die. That was one of the natural laws.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
The root of the tree was now visible from their location, and at its base sat a lone figure, sharpening their blade.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
The noise was still resonating loudly in the air, almost acting as soft wind.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
The girl noticed the two, and now Blodelshein could take a good look. She had snow-white hair and golden eyes — beautiful as the stars. It was a sharp beauty, the charm of a tiger and it reflected her fierce past alongside the two scars, one crossing her nose down to her jaw diagonally, and another perpendicular to the first, lower on the face, told of an epic tale. Even the scars seemed to add to the beauty, as alongside the muscular figure and a warrior’s funeral garment of Blodelshein’s time — to be worn at death — combined to illustrate a tantalizing imagery of a fatal beauty.
However, she did not stop sharpening her blade.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
Upon further inspection, the blades seemed to be a work of Murasama, a renowned bladesmith of the Shiryu nation of the far east. The girl must’ve been from a similar time as Blodelshein, perhaps later as she did not recognize the blade, but it seemed better than anything else he had previously crafter — a masterpiece. It was not his conventional, oriental blade, but combine the western elements with the eastern, a double-bladed long sword, but with the light weight and swiftness of a normal katana.
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
“He-lloooo? Anybody in there?” asked Sacrosanct while Blodelshein was budy inspecting the blade.
As she expected that the girl would not understand Sacrosanct’s language, the hero attempted to read her mind. However, everything in her mind seemed to be a mess, a jumbled collection of various memories and information. Blodelshein knew many like her, though they mostly kept to themselves in asylums. This had the possibility of becoming a dangerous situation. At least from the memories, it seemed that the stranger spoke Blodelshein’s language — Wundionn.
“...”
Shkkkkk
Shkkkkk
It was beginning to become frustrating to stand here, listening to this unpleasant noise. However, it was clear that she had something in mind — a plan for something greater. This was a bait, and it seemed that it had caught two more than expected.
The girl swiftly dropped from the base of the tree onto the soft grass, and in that instant, the massive tree suddenly vanished into a bottomless tunnel generated beneath it.
All around them, the ground began to fall and the sky trembled, as a giant figure seemingly emerged from the backdrop of nature. And with a roar, the colossal beast eventually manifested itself, a mountain-sized demonic creature which resembled a woman, but with fangs, wings and tentacles. four eyes on the left and three on the right decorated the World Beast’s face as well as wings on each side covering her face. Large horns resembling dark blades protruded from her forehead, a warning for all warriors daring to challenge her. She had four wings on her back to dominate the skies, and twelve tentacles extending from just below to dominate the seas. She was the deification of Sol-Aegis, a creation of the demon God and the 15th demon lord of Sonosis. She was:
“Tiamat,” said the white-haired warrior in the language Blodelshein spoke, “so we meet again.”
However, no response returned, but the delirious grief-anger manifested as a tantrum. The World Beast almost looked sick — as if it was possessed by disease. Even Sacrosanct could tell that she was not of the right mind. The girl prepared her katana, as well as another blade — this time fully western. Though it was visually unremarkable, it had the oppressive aura of a divine artifact.
Sacrosanct prepared himself against, lighting himself once more with the flames of passion. However, in his confused state, it was difficult to burn brightly.
Blodelshein only hoped that this would be their final demon lord encounter, but probably not. This was the fate of a hero after all.
And so, the battle between nature incarnate, and humanity enraged once more.

I am looking into buying my first boat. I primarily plan to use it for slalom skiing, and other times just cat fishing and hanging out with the wife and dogs. It's a 1969 16' Glasspar (I need to check the exact model) with a 1994 88Hp Evinrude motor. It has a brand new battery and just had $700 of work done to the motor at the boat shop (dont know exactly what was done). The price is $2,000. I don't want to pay much since I have no place to store it inside, and don't want to worry if I scratch it up. It seems to be in very good shape and was always stored inside. I know the owner who said we can take it out on the water for a test drive.
My brother thinks buying a tri haul would be a dumb buy since we live in Kansas where the wind always sucks... but I dont really plan on going out on large lakes in the open.
Would this be a viable boat for slalom skiing on small lakes and in coves? Is $2,000 a fair price as long as we can test it on the water? Would this be a good starter boat? Thank you!
https://imgur.com/a/9YTRzxw

Freshly back and awake after a twelve day stint for my first time there. I knew that I wanted to go in general, and while I didn't have a firm itinerary planned out, there was one main goal that I had in terms of sites within the country. The main video game that I play is Beatmania IIDX, and it has internal trophies which are represented as badges. Your profile allows you to assign up to five of them as visible when you start a new round, and there are badges to earn for playing at least one round in every prefecture in Japan, as well as every subregion. Getting the Kanto badge meant that I needed to play at least one round in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, Gunma, Tochigi, Ibaraki, and Chiba. After five days, I had that complete, and now I have a permanent record of this trip within the game itself. There was also a time-limited event to earn points in IIDX in order to exchange them for goods, such as a hat, or a towel, or a new account card and a poster, and I managed to get that taken care of in somewhat dramatic fashion. I did some other things too.
Primary general points
· Getting Suica set on the phone and using it was generally painless. There were only two times where I needed to summon the help of a resident JR employee to clear up an issue with the gate not reading the card for some reason.
· Most vocal interaction which I had was the opposite of painless, because I continuously kept trying to speak Japanese and failing, and most people would realize that I was completely failing at it and responded with English (some with full on sentences, others with just a few words). There were a few rare times that I was able to express my intent in Japanese, receive a response, understand the response, and reply as necessary, but that was rare. Once English was invoked, I would stay with it, because that's what they were expecting. I've been self-studying the language for more than twenty years in varying degrees of intensity, and while my reading comprehesion seemed sufficient enough for this trip, and while I didn't expect my speaking to be as good because I don't have any opportunity to practice speaking, I came away bitterly disappointed in my vocal and speaking comprehension in terms of my interaction with people there. Even within the trip I could at least overhear common chitchat better, but any time I needed to converse with someone for some reason, I usually needed to have things repeated several times and broken down before I finally realized what was being said.
· You are going to be asked about separately buying a bag with every non-food purchase. Accept or immediately present one that you are carrying to indicate how your purchase shall be bagged.
· I never once had my passport requested for presentation.
· Only once did a person volutnarily reach out to address me, and it was just to ask me where I was from in English. Otherwise, everyone left me alone the entire time.
· Weather through the period was ideal. Mid to upper 70F/25C range and only a few days where it was rainy, and even then it wasn't a downpour. A while ago I personally resolved to only wear suits in public and I purchased a new pair of Mephisto shoes after hearing reports of the extensive walking causing problems for traveller's feet and shoes. My attire help up well; there were only a few times that I needed to avoid sunlight to not get too hot, and I have no issues to report from the shoes.
· I only got X'd out of a restaurant one time, and I think it's only because I wandered into it before it was ready for service. Otherwise, I never once waited in line for food, I never once went to restaurant more than once, and all food was acceptably priced for the portion and excellent for the quality.
For these per-day recounts, I wrote them contemporaneously at the end of each day, so you'll need to forgive me for some writing being in present tense and other writing being in past tense.
Day 1 - Travel, Sugamo, Ikebukuro
Non stop flight from Chicago OHare to Haneda. 12 hours. Good thing I usually don't watch movies, because that just means that all I needed to do was binge a few to make the trip go by.
Pre-trip research led me to choose APA Sugamo as my home base for the visit, and I think that it was a very fortuitious choice. I'll have more to say about it later.
Some awkward encounters happened right away upon checking in here. I was at the nearby Family Mart to buy some things and I didn’t catch that he was making sure I wanted a bag until he repeated it five times. Yes, I’ll take it. Before getting there I was coming down to ground level after checking into my room, and when that person saw that I would have been the only other person going down to the ground, they ducked right back out. I was warned on both of these kinds of things happening, so I guess it’s good to have that immediately out of the way. It would turn out that people deliberately avoiding me was rare throughout the trip.
Despite not sleeping on the trip, I had freshly arrived and had no sense of being tired, so once I had my stuff down, I went off to Ikebukuro right away. No picture or video truly conveys how crowded these areas can get. It can only be experienced in person to be understood.
I soon found Round One Ikebukruo and went right in. So dense and loud. It’s entirely alien to me to see no less than ten IIDX machines in operation and all of them in use. I dumped the money into random tickets, as I foresaw doing, but now I have to wonder if that was the right thing to do, or if it’s tied to that location. I guess I’ll find out.
The forecast is for rain so I need to be in a hurry to figure out where I’m going to go. There might be only one day left for me to get my time limited toys.
Day 2 - Kawasaki, Kanagawa - Utsunomiya, Tochigi - Oomiya, Saitama
My body decided that it only needed four hours of sleep this morning. Without doing more research, I somehow decided to assume that more of the Round One locations were close to 24 hours of operation much like Ikebukuro. Answer: no. I hopped on the train early and went to Shibuya first, but it was very quiet, so I decided to get some of the travels out of the way today and headed south to Kawasaki. I still needed to dawdle for a while until Silk Hat opened at 900AM, and when I finally was able to get inside, I was only able to verify that their store had several allotments of the campaign goods and all allotments were out. Played one round on a monitor that was surprisingly blurry, and I don’t know why that would be the case with a lightning model, but it was, so that was enough.
After doing all of that, I resolved to try to go to Chiba and Ibaraki afterwards. I figured that with Kanagawa and Tokyo likely all out, going to the outskirts would make more sense. However, there was an injury on one of the rails that threw everything off normal, and the train I found myself riding was bound for Utsunomiya instead. Seeing as how I was going to go there eventually, I rolled with it.
It doesn’t take too long to move away from Tokyo metropolitan area before you encounter more forest like areas and rice paddy fields. Halfway through the trip I noticed that two older women suddenly hopped off while the train was waiting to go to the next stop, and I followed them when I realized they found the express line. Utsunomiya has a substantial size to its area and buildings but it was very quiet on the streets there in midday. Walked a mile to Sega GIGO, found that they didn’t even have the goods tracker up. All out. Interesting buliding for it having several neon signs, all vintage and authentic at that. Getting to there from the south meant cutting through Saitama, so I knew I had enough time to make one last attempt there. Research shown two stores being near Oomiya station, so that’s where I ended up. Taito Station was immediately visible upon exit, and they have two IIDX machines specifically with 20 gram springs, which is closer to my home setup and that much lighter than standard 50 gram springs. The final hour drew near and I made one last visit to that city’s Round One. Unlike nearly every other place I went to so far, it only had one IIDX machine. However, and maybe because of that, their goods listing didn’t show everything as out. One painful language exchange later, I was able to discern that what I wanted was available. When you spend more than 3000 yen in a single credit, the game wants to verify if you really want to proceed. It does it again at 6000 and 9000. Yes, I really do. But, having made that money dump I was able to get my hands on the e-amuse card and poster with fifteen minutes left before the deadline. Mission complete. By this point in the day it was exceedingly difficult to even look at the screen so I was ready to come home, but not before getting some goods at the Oomiya Book Off and redeeming what I could for points at Round One Ikebukuro. By the end of the day the only thing that I could tolerate doing was to buy some chicken and nigiri from the nearby train station. Good enough. At that point in the day my body felt like it wants to rock back and forth after all the train riding done today. But, it ended up being worthwhile after all.
One nostalgic feeling I had the most strongly in the day was at the Utsunomiya location where the smell of it triggered past buried memories of yesteryear. I think I want to attribute it to the stronger second hand cigarette smell but I’m not sure - all the same I felt its presence strongly there. Also, I don’t see Oomiya (or really Saitama itself) mentioned as a fun place to go, but it might serve as an acceptable alternative to Ikebukuro, only not as massive in scale of human quantity. Depending on how the trip goes in total I may end up back there for IIDX playing, at least if I don’t find any other place that has 20G springs.
Day 3 - Akihabara
With the travels out of the way, it was time to keep things more regionalized and stick to one area, and there is shopping that needs to be done, so it was off to Akihabara and to see how much of other posted tales hold true. The answer is that it is a lot of it. Kotobukiya can stand to open sooner than noon. Super Potato is indeed priced for a market which wants to snap up anything cheap - I at least found Xi for under 500 and felt that it would have been a bit silly to buy only that, but it didn’t make spending 2000 on one single issue of Arcadia any better. I had no idea that Hey Arcade was right next to both of them; while it was assuredly nice to be there and see the row of Cave shooters among everything else, something got messed up with my registration of my new eamuse card with everything else, so that quickly added to my stress. Having to carry around a few hundred dollars worth of crap with every step didn’t help matters. At least I was able to help a person recover their lost phone by applying a bit of logic to the situation and deducing it to belong to the only person there who looked French, as it was on the Lock Screen. They were relieved, yes. Then, rain came, and it was more than I was anticipating, and I left the umbrella at the room, particularly since I knew I’d be shopping this day. It also turns out to have not mattered much, because I went to visit Bic Camera so that I could get myself a hair trimmer while here, and that turned into me finding a bunch of Kit Kats available, so that meant a second bag. The wind kicked out the rain and my umbrella. In trying to get as many gifts secured as possible, I found some gachapon, but it needed 100Y coins, and I didn’t need paper money in the trip yet. After fighting with maps, I found an ATM to get cash, and got the gachapon. I came home late with feeling rather crushed about the day in that I couldn’t take pictures very well with having to juggle weather and bagging considerations. There were some nice parts of the experience to be sure but between that and more gawking at Super Potato pricing ($135 for PS3 Caladrius? $6000 for Pulstar?) and seeing similar markups on other goods, I don’t think it’s unfair to say that there is a reputation that this area carries and the pricing is there to go with it.
Day 4 - Laundry Day. Shibuya, Harajuku, Shinjuku
I was so drained at the end of Day 3 that I fell asleep on the bed immediately after ending the night call, which meant that I woke up at 0200AM to a room that was fully lit. This meant that I needed to look up how to resolve my eamuse problem or else I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. I did both. Awake at 0800AM meant that I had time to do laundry while I figured out what to do with the rest of the day. This meant that I was able to get more of Sugamo in pictures, and it was nice to be able to walk among the actual residences, and do other things like come across a school as it was actually in session. With them being close by and all in succession, I figured to get Shibuya, Harajuku, and Shinjuku visited. It turns out to have been a good day for it, as the temperature was perfectly cool and no rain came, and the sun came out only for a little bit. Shibuya somehow doesn’t seem quite as large in scope in person but the crowds were definitely there, and it is much more hilly than I anticipated as well. After wandering around and not seeing any arcade for a bit, I came across a series of coffee and cookie shops and remained strong to not indulge. It was there while looking at a Disney store (which gets tourists to take pictures of it for some reason) that the song Alone Again came on through the nearby public speakers. What timing. It drove me to finally get a treat for myself, and the frozen latte (black sesame and houji) and croissant (dark chocolate filing) were certainly good, it ended up costing more than the dinner I’d have later this day. I found a seclusion with a garbage can to eat the food and not carry the trash around, then an arcade soon after, and it was time to determine if I could fix the problem. Just like an easy click, it was. New to trash. Old to new. Done. Why did it have to be this way. Harajuku came next, and the environment there was distinct. This one in particular felt like it was an extended carnival atmosphere with the single tight knit market street and emphasis on fashion. A conversation with a freelance artist in the subway actually went well enough that I didn’t feel dumb. The same sensation carried to Shinjuku as well, only it was more spread out. Kabuki street was interesting to see in person, and I didn’t get any unseemly vibes from the place. Maybe it’s different later at night. A return home at a reasonable time allowed me to go down Sugamo’s market street a bit; most of it was closed, but it was interesting to come across the few remaining stores that were open by 0800PM, and more so the one that wasn’t. Coming back to the hotel I found a 24 hour ramen shop with nobody inside. The chef didn’t want to speak and only pointed to the ordering kiosk when I addressed her. The food came through a slot in the obscured window. At least her thank you as I left was a bit more warm, and the food was certainly delicious. To match with the matcha dessert that I bought from Sugamo station, I swung by a 7Eleven to get a drink, and found a milk tea for cheaper than a vending machine. The overhead music in the store was an instrumental version of Alone Again.
Day 5. Ibaraki - Mount Tsukuba, Miraidaira. Kashiwa, Chiba. Akihabara 2.
Awake at 0500AM on my own and knowing the current forecast meant that my envisioned plan for the day was quickly realized. Reaching the Tsukuba Express starting point from Akihabara needs you to get very far down into the ground before getting out into sunlight. I was on the ride early enough to see schoolchildren going about their commute, some of them being no older than ten and going about it unaccompanied. The people of Tsukuba seemed to be particularly helpful and cheerful that day, even despite my Suica issues at the gate. I didn’t ask his name at the counter but the man at the service desk was eager to speak with me about my career and what I was doing there. One asked where I was from on the way up to the summit and another caught my cable car ticket on the way down. There had to have been a few of them who saw my doing this climb in my business attire and thinking me to be a complete idiot if not outright mocking them for doing it that way while they employed the use of dual walking sticks and the like. I know I read some reports of the home stretch being difficult, but it did get pretty close to being an actual rock climb instead of a trail hike for that part of it. A quick stop to Miraidaira on the way back to get the Ibaraki play. The way the town center greets you upon leaving the rail gate struck me as incredible, as well as for how quiet it was. It was like walking onto a movie set. I did find the sweet shop after the play, and that was another painful interaction yet again. Oh well. Two quick stops down Tsukuba Express and one across from Tobu Urban Park line was enough to have a toe in Chiba, and I didn’t even need to leave the physical building of the train station to get to the basement level to find a machine for a play. Thank you, Kashiwa, you were great. Gunma is all that’s left. The descent from Tsukuba did take some earnest exertion, and after doing that the two stops, that put me back in Akihabara about when I anticipated; what I failed to anticipate is how much that place seems to drain on me. I think I just need to eat at an actual dinner time. Once I got back to Sugamo and had food it was a bit better, but while in Akihabara and being around that environment, and not finding things on a shopping list, I found myself just standing still and watching life pass me by. I hemmed and hawed a while for a maid girl’s hour of service for chitchat, but eventually I talked myself out of it because I just didn’t want potential trouble, just like her name. Komaru. I thought about doing this once just to say that I did, but I ultimately decided against it. You cannot go to this place with the expectation that you will find anything unless it is advertised and new. If you are looking for anything used, don’t count on it being there. You also cannot go there without having a strong resolve to not engage with the touts, because it becomes disheartening to see them do their job and blankly stare at the world when they're forced to stand out there and do nothing. Back to Sugamo to find a place that advertised Wagyu but the price they wanted was more than I wanted to spend. The ramen and seaweed & rice servings were fine, but they advertised endless drink and I didn’t receive that. All for $20? No, son. I did better than that elsewhere, I’ll know better now. Long day.
Day 6 - Tokyo Flea Market, Nakano Broadway, Ueno.
The weather couldn’t have been better for this weekend. I’ve read reports that the flea market held near the horse race track will be arbitrarily cancelled regardless of what is reported on the website, but my gut instinct told me that it would occur today, and it did. Turns out that a flea market is a flea market which is a flea market, no matter where it happens. Same allotment of clothes and stuff that few people really want to buy, although I was able to find myself some neckties at least. I probably overpaid based on what I saw later in the route, but that’s fine. They look nice. I settled on some shot glasses for a gift as well, but I’m surprised that I can’t ind something ornate that isn’t part of a sake set. Seated in the shade with a chocolate churro while rap music played in the background - it’s like I never left home. A woman came to sit across from me for the sake of sitting down; she was from Holland and today’s her last day in the country. Her husband came with food eventually. She had three weeks here and went to several places (allegedly, she didn’t list them out) and I asked her about Nakano Broadway. She didn’t make it there. It’s a good thing that I did - this is probably the kind of environment and market that people expect of Akihabara now, and maybe that’s how Aki was years ago, but it’s different from this. What’s more interesting is that Mandarake has a larger presence here than in Akihabara (so it seems to me), and their stores had floor after floor of any and every kind of pop culture product that’s been made in the past sixty years at least. Buttress that with extensive watch and jewelry stores and a slender arcade in the basement, and it’s a very well centralized microcosm of the country’s economy on the whole. I actually made a point to have dinner earlier than usual this time and found a place to serve some deep fried pork cuts served with rice and soup on the side. It was enough, and very well made. The day had not ended and my bag was heavy with several books purchased there, so I reported back to base briefly and decided to try visiting somewhere else, and settled on Ueno. Just as I arrived, a festival was underway where local teams of people made an elaborate show of carrying a home made shrine to a temple. Streets were officially blocked by police to allow the procession. In following the line I came up against makeshift food and amusement stands with the traditional toy gun shooting and goldfish catching. It appears that this is an official “start of summer” festival and I was able to watch it all happen in front of me. That was the good part of the day.
Day 7 - Tachikawa / Kunitachi. Shinjuku 2.
One of the games that I've never played is Beatmania III The Final. I've played some BM3 7th Mix years ago, but not The Final. I found a location that has one - World Game Circus in Tachikawa. In looking around that area before the trip, I saw that there was a nearby shinkansen museum, and not much else, so I figured that going to both places would make that walk worthwhile. Turns out that it wasn’t a museum in the proper sense of a dedicated building. Rather, it was a bullet train engine car on the side of a building that was unrelated, and that was it. A cute interaction happened here - when I approached the car, I heard some children running around inside, so I approached cautiously without knowing if I was encroaching upon someone else's alloted time or something. Once the children saw me, they gave a hearty irrashaimase as I entered, and the boy stamped a paper and presented it to me. Perfect. Despite it not being a typical musem, the card did have some interesting content, and it's good to see some kind of commemoration for their achievements and progression in that industry regardless. They have a lot to be proud about there. Off to WGC. Maps wasn’t lying about the walk taking twenty minutes. It's a good thing that I looked it up on streetview beforehand, because I otherwise would have walked right past it without knowing it was there. Then there it was, and there I confronted a past that I couldn’t visit again. Sure, I got to play BM3 The Final at last, but my timing was off, my hands were off, there wasn’t much I could do. Along with that I can say that I’ve played on a Beatmania II cabinet, and that was better than 5th Style at least. But that was it, that was all I could stand to do. It was right there and I couldn’t bear to put up with it more than a few rounds at best. Dream big, because only disappointment follows if your smaller dreams ever are fulfilled. I don’t know why finding IKEA back in Shinjuku was so difficult, but it took a while. I bought a bag, and then I bought a bag because the other bag was at the end of the register, which makes sense. I did feed myself before getting back to the Taito station to play some songs, but it still wasn’t good enough. All thumbs. Ended the day with laundry since the timing worked. Speaking of making dreams big, it’s time to cross another one off the list tomorrow. I can’t wait.
Day 8 - Takasaki, Gunma. Oomiya, Saitama 2.
It’s a good thing that I only needed to get to Ikebukuro to transfer over to the next stop, because that’s where that particular run ended for some reason. I wonder what was up. Speaking of things getting messed up on trains, I managed to find my way on a train that needed a separate ticket, which I didn't have. The conductor found me right away and had me disembark at Uraja for me to wait for the proper transfer. The weather forecast said there’d be rain, and the travel forecast said it would take two hours to get there, and neither lied. I feel like I had more people staring at me in Gunma than other places. I will say that I found the Takasaki station area to be rather charming, with the stores that it had inside and the emphasis on the music culture there. It’s one thing to offer a piano to the public to play, but it’s another to have a public willing to use it. This location had both. Having what was essentially a Bic Camera built into the facility was a nice touch too. The Leisure Land arcade was sandwiched between other floors that had its own offering of gaming stuff, so that was an unexpected bit of a fun thing to look through. The area was clean and sparsely populated, and it wasn’t picked clean of all matter of things that would normally get snapped up, so that was interesting. Finally, I made it over to the machine. They had separate fans for each location. I got the songs and then the medals came, and that’s that. Kantou Seiou. I would have stayed a bit longer but I wanted to have the medals show up right away, and my internet wasn’t cooperating, so that’s all I could do. I think there was an Internet cafe that I could have used in the facility, but I didn’t want to deal with an awkward conversation. I did get some Lawson on the way out, as well as some trinkets from the local Gunma-chan store as well as some mini croissants and some macademia cookie things. More vocal awkwardness. Omiya was one of the stops on the way back, and I found a place to serve omrice, so that’s another one off the list. No shoes allowed inside. The value wasn’t there but the service was good enough, as was the flavor. The machines with the 20G springs are indeed legit. Back home in time for some McDonalds, and that’s another food-checklist item marked off. Takoyaki mayo dipping sauce - somehow it’s both salty and sweet. While returning to the hotel, I did happen to encounter an argument amongst two teenaged locals where the guy ended up half-heartedly kicking the girl and getting her to cry. I wonder what their argument was about. I didn’t play hero, but someone else did so enough to prevent an escalation and called the police over.
Day 9 - Sugamo, Tokyo Sky Tree, Akihabara 3, Kanda
Up early enough to decide that I should at least visit the Sky Tree while I'm there just to say that I did, and that I should visit the Sugamo street market upon its open since it was right there in front of me. I'm glad to have done so. With everything open, this felt more like what one would think to expect from a flea market environment that's operated and supported by the local populace. Small stores were open both sides of the street that go on for many blocks, and some tents and tables were set up to sell second hand goods as well. I was able to find someone selling a US Morgan dollar and he wanted only 2000Y for it, so that was an easy buy. If I would have known better to anticipate this area, I wouldn't have felt compelled to buy kitchy tourist crap that is expected as gifts elsewhere. If you are looking for a place to idly shop around that doesn't get extremely crowded and has an authentic local feel to it, consider making a point to come here. Off to Sky Tree. Getting the combo ticket for the second deck was worth it just for the lack of crowds on the upper area. If you're going to come here, consider getting a phone selfie stick or something of the kind so that you can take pictures against the windows without the structure scaffolding obstructing your view. On the subject of shopping again, this might be another area to consider visiting just for the sake of the specialty stores to be found here, such as those for chopsticks or hairpins. To close out the day, my wife reminded me to look for something from the Square Enix cafe, so that meant swinging by Akihabara yet again. Since it is within a walkway, it was a bit of a pain to find this place even with using maps, but I eventually found it and got what she wanted to find. Played some IIDX at Game Panic, which was surprisingly small and the one machine that was avaialble to play had some 2P turntable issues, so that didn't last all that long. Dinner was at a nearby place that specalized in tofu, so that was a good ramen serving with that infused. For the evening, I wandered south to Kanda to get night pictures, and found it to feel pretty similar to Ueno.
Day 10 - Ginza, Tokyo, Kanda & Akihabara 4
Launrdry in the morning. I also wanted to say that I went to Ginza in my time here, and I didn't research anywhere to go to keep it a surprise. It was a bit warmer and sunnier than usual that day, and I stuck to the main road for most of the walk, so I can't say that I found too many points of the interest along the path that I walked starting from Yurakucho station and heading out that way. High class store for high class people, and that's too rich for my peasant blood. Similarly for Tokyo proper itself, I suppose I'd have to needed to wander far away from the Yamanote vicinity to find points of interest there, as I didn't encounter anything that was remarkably distinctive here in comparison to other areas that I have previously seen. Continuing north across Nihonbashi brought me to Kanda and eventually to Akihabara yet again, as if it was a magnet that pulled me inside every time. For the sake of trying a different place I chose to play some IIDX at the Leisure Land arcade there, and I'm glad to have done that, as those machines were probably in the best coniditon that I encountered within that area. Dinner was at Tenkaippin, which I didn't realize until after I placed the order was cash only. The clerk didn't request it beforehand but I voluntarily left my passport there to show that I would return, and promptly went to the same ATM that I had found days prior in order to get the cash to pay for the bill.
Day 11 - Haneda T3, Nishi Nippori, Nippori, Uguisuidani, Otsuka, Shibuya, Shinjuku, Ikebukruo, home.
The end. I resolved to take the subway over to Haneda today to get the one luggage over there and stored, and it’s a good thing that I did - there’s no easy solution for getting over there without encountering a crowd. If anything I wonder if Yamanote is actually better. Regardless, I got that much done. With the day left to go, I ventured to Nishi Nippori and I needed to summon the map several times to make sure I found the location, as it was as obscure as it could get. Just a sign on the ground for the third floor, a stairway that led to the back, an elevator that had no decoration, a single room that housed everything. Arcade PCB kits on shelves, joystick panels in exposed boxes, nicotine odor from years past - it was like I was transported to 1995 upon entry, beyond the fact that the games weren’t as old. Most of them, they did have a lot going for SF3 3rd yet. I was able to take care of some game business in a hurry since I was the only one there. It was a very pleasant respite for play in comparison to most of the other sessions. The region itself felt much the same as this arcade - old and well worn, as in well lived. Venturing south to Nippori led me to stumble upon a shrine and cemetery just by following some stairs. Usuigudani was cleaner but mostly had hotels as points of interest. Back home to buy some mochi while mochi was for sale in midday. Then to Otsuka, thinking that I would wander to Ikebukuro, but I ended up wandering back to Sugamo instead. Whoops. Meal at Sugamo, then back out to return to Shibuya and Shinjuku at night to catch evening shots, when I hadn’t done so before at these places. Good thing I did that to get Golden Gai area shots at night. With the night winding down, I decided to have one last IIDX play at Round 1 in Ikebukuro to symbolically end where I started.
Ending arcade comments
· Although the upkeep is generally better and more consistent than the US, some machines will have hardware issues here too. I was surprised by the blurriness with some of the LM IIDX machines.
· Densha De Go on the propert large cabinet is nice but quickly becomes very expensive.
· Bombergirl is OK enough and having the dedicated detonator button that pops up for hitting the base is a cute touch.
· Chase Chase Jokers feels rather clunky and I'm not sure what the game is trying to do. Interesting side screen concept at least.
· Nostalgia is delightful and would probably find a small fanbase worldwide if it had more exposure.
· Favorite IIDX locations are Taito Station in Oomiya for the light keys and Leisure Land Akihabara for the high quality of the LMs there. Honorable mention goes to the Game Versus loctation in Nishi Nihonbashi, but that might not be worth it for a dedicated trip unless you go there first thing in the morning.
Ending overall comments
This was a life altering trip for me, as would be expected. While I'm glad to have made the journey, as to be expected, I will only want to return after making an extensive redoubled effort into speaking and hearing comprehension, because I know that I came across like a blubbering idiot so many times, and it's truly aggravating because I generally know what I want to say and most of the words that are used to say it, but it just doesn't come out of my mouth properly when it needs to be done.
I welcome any questions you may have, as that will help for me to recall the memories and have me write them down.

The Penguins of Madagascar

"Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave."

The Penguins of Madagascar are four ordinary penguins turned secret commando team. Born in the frozen wasteland that is Antarctica, Skipper, Kowalski, and Rico spent their childhood in boredom, waddling along the ice with seemingly no destination in mind. They were constantly told by the rest of their colony that it was a dangerous world for a penguin, and something so "cute and cuddly" shouldn't take any risks. One day, the group witnessed a lone egg rolling down the snow towards an icy cliff. When they realized no one was going to help it, the three baby penguins leapt into action. They rescued the egg from certain doom, but in the process were separated from the rest of their group, stuck on a lone iceberg and floating towards an unknown future. It was that moment that Skipper, Kowalski, Rico, and the new hatching Private, became not only a team, but a family.
Fast forward a few years, and the Penguins of Madagascar have grown into a skilled group of elite commandos, partaking in various missions that have taken them all over the world, from New York to Madagascar to Africa to Europe. Over the course of their dangerous careers they have accumulated a wide variety of friends and allies. These range from the residents of the Central Park Zoo to the members of the spy agency North Wind. However they have also made no shortage of enemies, including Hans the Danish puffin, the Red Squirrel and the maniacal Dr. Blowhole.

Respect Threads

• Skipper
• Kowalski
• Rico
• Private
• Group Thread

Skipper

"Cute and cuddly, boys. Cute and cuddly."

Skipper is the leader of the group, devising tactics and gives orders. He is calculating, strict, paranoid, short-tempered, stubborn, and has a great disdain for hippies. Skipper's raving paranoia and tendency to view even the most ordinary activities as a military operation, combined with his experience in covert ops, has driven him to prepare for nearly any situation, no matter how bizarre or unlikely. While his antics do tend to alienate other animals outside of his commando team, more often than not his paranoia is proven justified, as he and his team have saved the world on multiple occasions.
Strength

• Slides into a metal door with enough force to dent it
• His punches shake a tree
• Forces open a giant alligator's jaws
• Crushes a golf ball with his flipper
• Throws a plastic unicorn toy with enough force for it to get stuck in a brick wall
• Repeatedly breaks himself out of a block of ice that was "Antarctic cold"

Speed/Agility

• Dodges a multitude of darts from a booby trap
• Dodges a large missile multiple times
• Dodges multiple lasers while charging towards an experimental laser turret
• Slides fast enough to stay ahead of Officer X's combat van
• Jumps over 1 1/2 stories onto a rising platform
• Bounces and flips around several lamp posts, rocks, and trees, eventually knocking out some pins with an explosive dive kick

Durability

• Gets kicked into a brick wall by Joey the kangaroo, cracking it
• Gets kicked high into the air by his evil android doppelganger, who was strong enough to crack concrete
• Kowalski's Nexto Skeleton knocks him through a bench with a rocket kick
• Gets pounded into the concrete by Bada
• Gets slammed into a concrete wall by Roger, creating a penguin shaped indention
• Falls through the roof of a plane mid flight
• Gets blasted into a stone wall by an explosion
• Gets shocked by the Zoo's new electric field
• For a short while, he walks across pavement that was hot enough to turn an egg to ash in 3 seconds
• After being buried alive, gets blasted through the dirt with a piece of dynamite and is perfectly fine

Skill

• Even while unconscious, his reflexes always keep him ready to fight
• Fends off the other penguins with relative ease
• Throws a playing card with enough accuracy to cut a four ropes keeping the penguins suspended in the air as well as a rope holding up a chandelier
• Throws a coin, which cuts two ropes and frees Maurice, bounces off a wall, cuts another rope and frees Mort, and finally bounces off another wall and turns off a light switch

Kowalski

"Okay Kowalski, wow me."
"Behold, a portal to times past. The Chronotron!"
"So, its a time machine?"
"Well, yes."
"So why not call it a time machine?"
"Sure, yeah. And while we're at it, let's call the Great Wall a fence, the Mona Lisa a doodle, and Albert Einstein Mr. Smarty Pants!"

Kowalski is the brains of the operation. He is a brilliant inventor, creating a multitude of different inventions and gadgets to help the penguins on their missions. If given enough time, there are few things that he couldn't invent. Unfortunately, most of the time his inventions cause serious trouble for the team, either falling into the wrong hands, turning against Kowalski, or just exploding. Not to mention, despite his intelligence, he cannot read (although he still carries around a clipboard to record drawings of their plans). He tends to over-analyze situations, trying to perfect every minute detail of a plan before he acts. This often causes the team more harm than if he would just act. That being said, he is still an invaluable member of the Penguins. Without him, they would simply be a couple of ordinary penguins that can do flips and karate chop people.
Strength

• Slides into a metal door with enough force to dent it
• Kicks a bowling ball with impressive velocity into Private's face
• Pulls down a bill board
• Digs through solid concrete with nothing but a plastic spoon

Speed/Agility

• Jumps over 1 1/2 stories onto a rising platform
• Dodges a multitude of darts from a booby trap
• Dodges several laser beams from the Penguins' lair security protocol
• Slides fast enough to stay ahead of Officer X's combat van
• Wall jumps several times to climb out of King Julian's fake volcano
• Dodges and weaves around several spotlights

Durability

• Gets pulled by Rico with enough force to dent a steel door
• His Nexto Skeleton knocks him through a bench with a rocket kick
• Gets crushed by a swinging wrecking ball and is fine moments later
• Gets crushed under a large boulder
• Gets blasted into the air by Rico's rocket launcher
• Gets shocked by 5000 volt electrical cables twice
• Gets his face torched by the Penguins' flamethrower
• After being buried alive, gets blasted through the dirt with a piece of dynamite and is perfectly fine

Skill

• Flips and dodges around several attacks from chameleon tongues while being blindfolded
• Throws his abacus, which bounces off of both Badda and Bing and then returns to him (similar to Captain America's shield)

Intelligence/Gadgets

• Invents a machine that can remove someone's intelligence and store it in a cardboard box
• Invents a fully functioning time machine, which he uses twice to travel back in time. When three Kowalskis exist in the same space it rips a hole in the fabric of the universe
• Built a thermo fusion reactor within the penguin's base
• Invents the Helmet, which allows the user to move object with their mind, as well as summon any object they think of to them at a moment's notice
• Builds an invisibility ray
• Makes a laser gun that can revert things to their younger, fresher state, which turns Skipper into a baby and eventually back into an adult
• Creates a device that can stop time, (anyone that is touching the device at the time he activates it will experience the stopped time)
• Builds a mech suit, which he dubs the nexto skeleton, that can fly, shoot missiles, is strong enough to life a large boulder over his head, and can even rebuild lost limbs out of seemingly nothing
• Builds a machine that can clone an exact replica of any living organism, as long as it has their DNA (which he uses to bring a dodo bird back to life)
• Built an anti gravity gun
• Hacks into a traffic light with relative ease

Rico

"B-but that shouldn't have worked! It breaks all known rules of science!"
"And that's why we call Rico a maverick. He makes his own rules."
[BLEH BL-BLAH BL-BLUH BLAH BLEH]

Rico is the group's weapons and explosives specialist who mainly communicates through grunts and squeals. With a stomach that defies reality, Rico swallows a plethora of useful tools and weapons and regurgitates them when needed, including ones that appear to be too large to have been swallowed in the first place. Rico has a few screws loose, so the other Penguins need to keep him on a tight leash lest he lose his mind in a dynamite filled frenzy. That said, Rico's love for explosions and destruction is an asset that Skipper has no problem letting lose on their enemies or any problem that the team may be facing.
Strength

• Breaks a fairly large hole through a brick wall
• Pulls Kowalski with enough force to dent a steel door
• Lifts an anvil over his head
• Bites through a lock
• Digs through concrete at an incredibly fast with two plastic spoons

Speed/Agility

• Jumps over 1 1/2 stories onto a rising platform
• Dodges several laser beams
• Dodges one of the Red Squirrel's missiles
• Kicks Kowalski into the air, and by the time he falls back down, Rico had already got into, started, and drove the penguins Buggy next to their base to catch him
• Cuts up a fish into perfectly sized bites of sushi in just over a second
• Climbs over the zoo's main gate in seconds

Durability

• Slams into a brick wall, cracking it
• Falls directly onto a rhino's horn
• Gets crushed by a falling elephant
• Falls through the roof of a plane mid flight and is completely unharmed
• A bomb explodes inside of his stomach and he barely reacts
• Is right next to where Kowalski shot his newly acquired plasma blaster on turbo setting, which caused an explosion powerful enough to blow a hole in their concrete ceiling (that same plasma blaster on medium setting was able to disintegrate a lamp post in a single shot
• Gets hit by a static shock that is strong enough to knock out the power in the Penguin lair
• For a short while, he walks across pavement that was hot enough to turn an egg to ash in 3 seconds
• After being buried alive, gets blasted through the dirt with a piece of dynamite and is perfectly fine

Skill

• Fends off both Skipper and Kowalski with nothing but a doll as a weapon
• Throws Marlene like a boomerang, bouncing her off of both Bada and Bing's heads and then catching her
• Shoots 3 fish out of the air with a crossbow

Swallowing/Regurgitation
Rico is able to regurgitate whatever Skipper needs as long as he has it locked away in his intestines. As soon as an object, weapon, or tool is needed he can produce it almost instantly.

• Spits up a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse and immediately regurgitates a flash light
• Spits out a grenade filled with knock out gas
• Regurgitates a massive missile which is far larger than he is
• Continuously regurgitates hook shots so he can swing from buildings like Spider-Man
• Spits a small anchor into the air with enough velocity to strike him in the head a couple seconds after it leaves his mouth
• Regurgitates a chainsaw with enough velocity to fly into the air and cut through a sewer pipe
• Fires screws fast enough for them to secure a metal door in place and keep Jiggles the slime contained
• Throws up a cinder block with enough force to send a leopard seal flying backwards

Private

"Private, options."
"Hello? I'm the options guy!"
"But not when it comes to matters of the heart. That's where young Private here shines."

Private is the emotionally sensitive, British-accented rookie of the Penguins of Madagascar. Though younger and less experienced than the other penguins, he is the most down to earth and compassionate. Private tends to offer simpler, more commonsense solutions in response to Skipper and Kowalski's complex strategies, often in an understated tone while those strategies are falling apart. He also has an affinity for unicorns.
Strength

• Slides into a metal door with enough force to dent it
• While underwater, he kicks a baby leopard seal which flies into an adult leopard seal, reversing its momentum
• Stops a massive leopard seal from falling off an icy cliff
• Hangs onto his golf club as he uses it to swing their golf cart around a tree

Speed/Agility

• Jumps over 1 1/2 stories onto a rising platform
• Dodges several darts shot out from one of Kowalski's booby traps
• Dodges several lasers from the Penguins' security system
• In the flash that Dave's monster ray is fired, he frees himself from his bindings and hides beneath a piece of machinery without anyone noticing
• Out swims a leopard seal for a short while
• Deflects a golf ball with his club
• Wall jumps multiple times to get to the top of the zoo's gates

Durability

• Gets karate chopped by Skipper to the ground
• After covering one of Rico's bombs with a bucket, he gets blasted through the roof of the zoo's security building
• Gets crushed between Skipper and a concrete wall after an explosion blasts Skipper into him, leaving a Private shaped indention in the wall
• Falls from the outskirts of the Earth's atmosphere and crashes to the ground below
• Gets dropped onto an electric fence by Savio
• For a short while, he runs across pavement that was hot enough to turn an egg to ash in 3 seconds
• After being buried alive, he gets blasted out of the ground by a piece of dynamite and is fine
• Falls into a pit of rusty bear traps, which mildly injures him

Skill

• Defends himself from Skipper's strikes and disarms him while blindfolded
• Defeats over a dozen of Dr. Blowhole's minions with ease
• Fires a dart gun, which bounces off of several objects and walls before eventually hitting the light switch and turning off the lights

Cuteness

• Unlocks what Kowalski calls "quantum hyper cute", which causes anyone who sees him to faint because their brains are overloading from the cuteness
• By using himself as a power source, his cuteness is able to reverse the affects of Dave's monster ray

Teamwork

• Push an elephant into a cage
• Using Rico as a battering ram, they destroy a brick wall
• Forming a penguin chain, Kowalski, Rico, and Private support the weight of an elephant
• Kowalski, Rico, and Private manage to hold Officer X's van in place while it tries to drive away
• Incapacitate Capitaine DuBois and her men, tying them up and launching them out of a canon
• Take on a small army of Dr. Blowhole's lobster minions

Gear

• Grenades
• Rocket launcher
• Flamethrower that is hot enough to melt a lamp post
• Laser pen which can cleanly cut through stone
• Grappling hooks
• Jetpacks gifted to them by the North Wind spy agency

Using the Penguins on WWW

While it may vary from episode to episode, the penguins are all around the same ballpark in stats and skill. They're pretty well rounded, being able to withstand blows that damage stone and metal walls and can dish out those same kinds of hits. On top of that, most have dealt with minor esoteric damage types like heat, electricity, and cold. While they're not too crazy speed wise, they're all capable of aim dodging lasers and can avoid slower projectiles like darts. Combine that with their absurd agility and small size and these four will be extremely difficult to hit for opponents that are on their physical level.
However, it's the areas outside of physical stats that let the penguins fight above their weight class. They're all capable in close quarters combat, with Skipper being the clear standout (though Rico and Private have both shown to be able to hold their own against him under the right conditions). Rico is a walking armory that will give them access to any weapon in their arsenal at any time, Kowalski has plenty of inventions that most opponents won't have resistances too, and Private's hyper cuteness could certainly catch their opponents off guard.
The best way to beat these four is to split them up and fight them individually. They've shown many times that they are far greater than the sum of their parts, engaging in hit and run tactics or using one of their various haxes to battle opponents above their weight class. Kowalski and Private in particular are vulnerable to losing their composures if things aren't going their way in a fight (though I wouldn't exactly call that a strength for Skipper and Rico either).