Images of white puffy bump on soft palate of my mouth

[WTS] Newp: AU 58 Korea (Joseon) Black Enamel 1 Chon, Old Kiangnan 20 Cents, Dragon Silver, Cast Korea 100 Mun, Sinkiang 5 Miscals (PCGS), MS 63 Chekiang 10 Cents, MS 64 PCGS Kwangtung Dragon 10 Cents, Scarce Korea 1/4 Yang, AU/UNC Manchurian 20 Cents, Scarce China Dragon 5 and 20 Cash + Bulk Lots!

2024.05.29 02:18 quizbowlanthony [WTS] Newp: AU 58 Korea (Joseon) Black Enamel 1 Chon, Old Kiangnan 20 Cents, Dragon Silver, Cast Korea 100 Mun, Sinkiang 5 Miscals (PCGS), MS 63 Chekiang 10 Cents, MS 64 PCGS Kwangtung Dragon 10 Cents, Scarce Korea 1/4 Yang, AU/UNC Manchurian 20 Cents, Scarce China Dragon 5 and 20 Cash + Bulk Lots!

Hello again to Anthony's post-college sale! I will also be travelling to Korea on the 31st of May, so figured, with today and the two days after, to get some of my last sales done. To be transparent, I have been trying to get some more Chinese and Annamnese (Vietnamnese) coins in the near future, so I have to offload some of my stuff to get towards my collecting goals. Got some cool coins lined up in my collection and wanted to offset the cost.
These are all NEW items, mostly from my personal collection of raw inventory, as this sale is mostly raw coins with four nicely graded and slabbed silver pieces of Joseon Korea and of course, Qing and Republican China. Some of the highlights include a NGC AU 58 rare Korean 1 Chon with black enamelling or cloisonne, the only type in the world that would constitute the Taedong series of 1882-83. Quite scarce and nicely toned and sharp for this cast silver issue! There is also a NGC MS 63 Chekiang 10 cent with a much above average strike! And in the realm of PCGS slabs, there is a nice MS 64 blast white Kwangtung 10 Cents, a more uncommon denomination compared to the 20 cents, from the Kuang Hsu era, also ex. personal collection. Lastly, we have a rather large 5 miscals, or half a tael/sar, Sinkiang ration silver xiang yin from the Tihwa Mint, graded XF details. Still a very sharp piece with a authentic LOL Sinkiang black staining on the reverse. Quite unique. I believe this would be hornsilver. Lastly, in terms of raw coinage, we have some nice mini lots of copper cash, including Sinkiang Red Cash and Empire/Provincial 5 cash--a more elusive denomination. We also have a good amount of silver, such as a 1899 Old Kiangnan 20 Cents, ex. Dan Ching, a rare date 1907 Kirin 5 Cents in silver, and three Manchurian Provinces silver 20 cents from my personal collection. There is also a 100 mun from Korea too! All in all, please take a look and let me know if these Asian numismatics and classics in the field interest you!
Thank you all! I hope you all can enjoy these coins from my personal collection! :D
Proof: https://imgur.com/a/BjGDiIA Please Private Message (and not DM) me to order. Also, be sure to put a comment on this post with a "PM" so that I can respond to it before and after the trade is verified.
INVENTORY - Guaranteed GENUINE and FOUR are Certified:
LOTS (in Letter Form):
Lot A: Two Rolls of UNC 1960 D Lincoln Memorial Cents
Lot B: 1924 (Year 13) Chekiang (republic) 10 Cents - SILVER - NGC MS 63 - white, nice strike and strong, without weakness as generally seen. Hangchow (Hangzhou) Mint - Lin and Ma 289
Lot C: MS 64 PCGS Kwangtung 10 Cents - Blast White, Very Sharp and Lustrous, Full Scales, near-Choice. An excellent addition to any collection! :D
Lot D: PCGS XF Details (97) - Excessive Corrosion / ED - Sinkiang Ration Silver 5 Mace - rare type and very nice, above average strike on the dragon's scales!
Lot E: RARE 1882-1883 Taedong Treasury Department - KOREA Silver (Cast) 1 Chon - Black Enamel. NGC AU 58
Lot F: 1907 Kirin Province (丁未) - Ting Wei 5 Cents - toned, small scratch on obverse. KEY DATE YEAR
Lot G: 1899 (己亥) - 20 Cents Old Kiangnan Lao Kiangnan - ex. Dan Ching (Kraft Envelope Included) - SCARCE!
Lot H: 1908 (dated 33rd Year of Kuang Hsu) Manchurian Provinces 20 Cents - sharp XF
Lot I: Manchurian 20 Cents - Choice AU/UNC - Lustrous, with sharp dragon scales, and CHERRY BLOSSOM CENTER type, and a later issue, circa 1914. A more uncommon type and harder to find in choice AU to UNC grade as this one. - Hsuan Tung Issue
Lot J: Manchurian 20 Cents - AU - old cleaning - RARE Variety with DOT in CENTER FLOWER, sharp scales and purchased in 2017 ex. Hong Kong auction - Hsuan Tung Issue
Lot K: 7 coin lot of struck chinese qing and republican copper and brass! rare denominations including 1 cash!
Lot L: KOREA (Joseon) 1866 Sang Pyong Tong Bo 100 Mun - Nice EF - as cast (Heungson Daewongeun Issue) - large size! Nice characters.
Lot M: Copper Nickel Nice AU Year 502 = 1893 1/4 Yang - Rarer Year compared to 1898 Kwangmu 2nd Year - Krause KM 110.
Lot N: Lot of THREE Sinkiang Red Cash - all MILLED 10 Cash from the Republican Era (x2 1912, x1 1914) - rare and hard to find compared to other provincial 10 cash!
Lot O: Lot of SIX - assorted and rather uncommon Chinese Dragon 10 Cash - assorted condition from VF to nice AU (brown)
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2024.05.29 01:49 nivthefox Alyssa's Tale, Ch. 1 and 2 (2nd Draft, Critique Wanted)

Chapter 1

Alyssa awoke with saltwater in her mouth and nose. She hacked and sputtered, only to realize she was sinking deeper into a pitch dark pool. She closed her eyes against the water's sting, and as her panic rose she flailed with arms and legs. She was desperate to regain bouyancy, even as she choked out the brine from her burning lungs. Determined, she broke to the surface again, gulping in air between ragged coughs as she fought to stay afloat.
Treading water, she opened her eyes and nothing changed. The darkness in the echoing chamber was complete, and she had to fight down another surge of panic as she took in the precariousness of her situation. The cold water sapped her strength, and her heart raced as a sudden scream of terror welled up from within.
Alyssa winced as her own scream echoed in her ears. She choked out the last of the salty water, then took a deep breath, trying to force herself to calm. "Okay, okay," she soothed herself, voice trembling slightly despite her efforts, "we're okay."
After another steadying breath, Alyssa began building a mental catalog of her situation. Her clothes were soaked through, but she wasn't finding treading water to be too difficult, yet; a future problem. Other than her lungs, nothing hurt, and those were recovering. She could still feel her toes and fingers on both hands, meaning no paralysis, that she could find. Nothing seemed to be seriously wrong, except that she had no idea how she'd come to be in a pitch dark echoing chamber filled with water.
Calmer, now, Alyssa tried to recall what she had been doing. The last thing she remembered was walking along the shoreline, feeling immensely lonely. The sound of the waves coming in, closer and closer, was still vivid in her mind. She could still remember the coarse feeling of the sand between her toes. The saltwater air had filled her lungs as she wondered how she could be in such a beautiful place, and still feel so sorry for herself. With a bitter laugh, Alyssa lolled her head back in the water and stared into the endless void. Well she certainly had reason to feel sorry for herself, now. Still, the memory of how she came to be here was distressingly absent.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
As her adrenaline faded, Alyssa could hear the slow, steady fall of water into the pool. Was the water level rising? She couldn't tell without knowing more about the chamber she was in. Determined to push back against her growing despair, Alyssa decided to explore her environment more thoroughly. A shiver coursed through her spine as she felt out to either side as far as her arms would go and couldn't find a wall, nor did she find purchase beneath her feet. After a moment of hesitation, Alyssa expanded her search. She swam forward, keeping her hands ahead of herself.
She didn't have to go far before she bumped into an uneven stone surface. Alyssa wasn't sure in the dark, but judging by the smoothness of the rock she guessed it was some kind of river stone. She followed the stone wall around for a ways before deciding it was curved inward. Pushing off, Alyssa turned and reached for the other side, then followed along the wall and repeated the crossing a few more times. She decided that the cavern was roughly circular, perhaps half again as wide as her armspan at its widest stretch, though without light she couldn't be certain she had ever crossed it straight. She considered her options as she clung to the side of the chamber.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
The steady sound was maddening in its repetition, and Alyssa let out a huff of annoyance. Thinking on it, though, she was sure the water had been steadily falling into the chamber the entire time she was here, and she didn't think the water level had risen. Not that she had any way to really know for certain, but if she was right, it implied there was some way for the water to get back out. Could she get out the same way? Taking a deep breath, Alyssa ducked beneath the surface and swam down. Her kicks were hindered by her sodden skirt, but following along the cavern wall as she descended, Alyssa felt the cavern floor after a depth of maybe twice her height. Ten feet wasn't even as deep as most home swimming pools.
Alyssa gulped down air as she returned to the surface, thinking hard about what she'd found. Another shiver coursed through her veins just before she dove down to explore the bottom further. Like the walls, it was uneven but smooth. She could feel some small cracks, and feel the water rushing past her fingers near one or two of these. That, then, was where the water was escaping to. Frustrated, she resurfaced one more and banged her fist against the stone wall. "Damnit." She knew she wouldn't be swimming her way out of here.
For the third time, Alyssa shivered, and she realised that she was starting to lose feeling in her toes. The water temperature wasn't frigid, but she could feel it sapping her strength. Was it ninety-six degrees for hypothermia? Ninety-five? She couldn't recall, but it wasn't important, without a thermometer. She was going to die, here, if she didn't find a way out, and soon.
Drip … Drip … Drop.
Straining, she tried to focus on the sounds around her once more. The incessant dripping of the cave was her only remaining hope of finding a way out, and she had no idea how to reach the ceiling. Alyssa squeezed her toes in an attempt to restore some feeling, while she thought about the problem. After a moment, she began exploring the cavern walls again, this time searching for something to stand on rather than just learning about her environment. After a few turns about the chamber, she found a small shelf just a few feet beneath the surface, large enough for her to put a single foot on.
She pushed herself up, trying to go slowly as she felt along the wall for anything to grip onto. She couldn't find purchase before her momentum carried her too far from the wall, but she did feel roughly how high the ceiling was just before she splashed back into the pool. "Yes!" she celebrated the small victory as she surfaced, fueling her hopes of an escape with that realization that she could probably wedge herself between the ceiling and the shelf if she was purposeful about it.
Returning to the wall, she tamped down on the urge to shiver again, then surged straight up, putting her hands above her to try and catch the ceiling. Water cascaded around her in a torrent, her water-logged clothing threatening to drag her back to the depths, but she held on until she was steady. Alyssa allowed herself a small smile for her success, though some part of her thought it felt more like a grimace, before she began feeling along the cavern ceiling with her hands. Like the rest of the chamber, the stone was smooth and uneven, but it had sharper protrusions here and there that might serve as handholds. Alyssa was reminded of the wall climb at the local mall. She'd never been great at it, despite her friends dragging her to try it every other weekend during high school.
As she continued exploring the ceiling, another involuntary shiver wracked her body, and she set her teeth against the growing chill. "I'm going to get out," she promised herself, just as her hand found open air where she'd expected stone. She nearly fell, but she caught herself and explored the edges of the hole. She couldn't even reach the entire thing from her perch! The ledge was rugged and sharp, and just barely far enough from the wall that she had to strain to reach it. She explored as far around the hole as she could, certain it was large enough for her to fit through. Excited, Alyssa grabbed onto the ledge with both hands and tried to pull herself up, but her grip wasn't solid enough. She immediately slipped back into the water with another splash.
Alyssa surfaced with a growl, feeling a surge of determination and stubbornness. Reclaiming her perch on the shelf, she pushed up to the roof of the chamber once more. This time she knew her target, so rather than wasting time and grip with exploration, she just focused on steadying herself, there. After a few breaths, she reached up to grab the ledge again, trying to find solid hand-holds.
As she swung out from the wall, her sodden skirt trailed through the water, weighing her down. She held on for longer this time, uttering a harsh noise as she strained to pull herself up. She managed to get her chin to her fingers before her grip failed her again, and the feeling of freefall sent her heart thrilling before she splashed into the cool water once more.
When she surfaced, Alyssa let out a frustrated growl. "I had it!" she admonished herself, before finding the ledge once more. A third time, her efforts were fouled and she fell into the water. In frustration, she peeled her skirt off her legs and abandoned it to the murky brine. With the drag gone, she had an easier time holding onto the ledge, and on her fourth attempt she nearly managed to pull herself all the way up before her arms gave out and she slipped back into the water with yet another scream of frustration.
She knew she was close, but she obviously wasn't going to make progress while her muscles were burning with fatigue. Floating on her back, Alyssa glared up into the darkness as her emotions swirled around her, threatening to drag her into despair. Hope and frustration warred within her, each trying to gain the upper hand. She clung onto the determination that she had almost made it, but as she dwelled on the problem above her, doubts began to surface. What if she couldn’t pull herself out? What if there wasn’t a way out above?
Anger surged through her at that thought, hot and fierce. She refused to accept that fate. Closing her eyes, she focused on the anger and used it as fuel for her resolve. She just needed a moment to catch her breath, relax her muscles, and try again. She was going to get out.
When she swung out for the fifth time, Alyssa’s fingers gripped tightly to the rock above. She pulled herself up into the black with a roar of determination and frustration. She got her chest over the lip, then reached one arm forward hastily in search of a better hold. She found purchase, then pulled a leg up and got one foot on the ledge. With a scream of exultation, she pushed herself the rest of the way out of the chamber and into the tunnels above.
With a feral noise of triumph, Alyssa slid onto the cool, damp stone of the tunnel, then rolled onto her back and lay gasping for air. Her muscles were twitching, and she was still cold, but she was no longer in the water, and that was a massive improvement, even if the dark and damp of the unknown was around her.
Alyssa wasn’t sure how long she lay there on the stone, but as her panting and muscle spasms gave way to shivering and goosebumps, she admitted to herself, “I have to move.” But it was hard to keep going; her body felt heavy and drained from the exertion of just climbing out of the chamber below, and she wasn’t even sure where to go next. With a groan, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, fighting the exhaustion and mounting sense of dread that threatened to claim her.
Carefully, she crawled forward on hands and knees, every movement an effort. She could feel the edge of the hole she’d just emerged from, but that was obviously a deadend. Instead, she pressed on, hunting for an alternative. The rough stone scraped against her palms and knees as she inched along, her progress painfully slow.
The cavern descended, and Alyssa's heart sank when her hand plunged into another pool of water. She pulled back, relieved that the bank was shallow enough she could easily get back out of this pool. Nevertheless, she paused to consider her options, then turned to explore in the opposite direction. After several minutes of fruitless searching, she realized that the water-filled passage was her only way forward.
Alyssa let out a heavy sigh of frustration as she lowered herself into the tepid water. She gritted her teeth as the cold crept back into her bones, but willed herself to keep moving. The tunnel continued its descent, and soon the ceiling plunged into the pool, forcing her to submerge if she wanted to continue. Alyssa hesitated, barely holding back her desperate tears. Swimming blindly through the flooded passage seemed like madness, but what choice did she have?
Taking a deep, gasping breath, Alyssa plunged beneath the surface and swam forward with powerful kicks of her legs. She kept one hand on the stone above and the other stretched out in front of her, searching for obstacles. As her lungs began to burn with the need for oxygen, panic threatened to overwhelm her. What if the tunnel never resurfaced? If she went much further, she was certain she would not be able to make it back. Still, she had no alternatives; no other way to proceed. So she swam forward into the unknown, gambling her life on an exit while desperately ignoring the growing panic in the back of her mind.
A subtle glow in the murky water caught Alyssa’s attention, and the tunnel veered sharply upward. Desperate for air, she kicked towards the light, discarding caution as she propelled herself forward and up with both arms and legs. Hope surged through her as she swam towards the surface.
When she emerged from the water, gasping and sputtering for air, Alyssa let out a cry of relief. Mushrooms! Glowing mushrooms filled the room, their glow dim but omnipresent. She marveled, letting out a delighted laugh at the sight of the water’s reflection erupting into a cascade of colors on the cavern ceiling. Alyssa took a deep breath, and although the air was musty and stale, it had a sharpness and movement to it that the previous chamber hadn’t. Where there were mushrooms there was life, and where there was wind there was an exit. For the first time in hours, Alyssa smiled, as she pulled herself out of the pool onto the bank.

Chapter 2

For the second time in several hours, Alyssa lay on the ground catching her breath and allowing her muscles to relax. The swim through the watery airlock–she couldn’t think of any other way to describe that tunnel–had been far more mentally taxing than the physical exertion of pulling herself up out of the first chamber. Nevertheless, it required a great deal of effort and she was exhausted.
As she lay on her back, Alyssa tried again to remember how she got here. She remembered vividly her walk on the beach, and then … water. There was nothing in between. She wasn't even sure how much time had passed, but judging by the way her stomach was starting to groan in protest, and by the fullness of her bladder, she was fairly sure it had been several hours. On the other hand, she could account for at least two of those since she found herself in the chamber, unless her estimate of time was very off.
Her deliberations were cut short by a small squeaking noise, not far away. Alyssa eased herself up and turned towards the noise. There in the field of mushrooms was a small white and brown mouse, cast in an eerie glow by the mushroom's bioluminescence. Alyssa watched in awe as the mouse nibbled on the mushrooms, waiting to see what would happen. She didn't know enough about mushrooms to judge their safety for herself, but if the mouse could eat them, she figured they were probably safe for her to try, as well. After all, weren't mice used for drug testing all the time?
The mouse seemed oblivious to Alyssa’s presence, and she held her breath as best she could while she counted the seconds, trying to decide how long she should wait before trusting the results. Hours, probably, if she was honest with herself. Just when she was about to give up on the idea, a sudden movement caught her eye. Beyond the mouse, swift as could be, a slithering figure stole towards the unsuspecting rodent. “No!” she called, and her hand found a rock. Hastily, she threw it towards the onrushing creature. The rock went wide, but the serpent’s stealth was spoiled, and the mouse quickly darted away from its assailant, deeper into the mushrooms.
The snake let out a hiss of annoyance, and Alyssa was briefly overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of immense displeasure. She wasn’t surprised the snake was annoyed, but the sheer vehemence she felt was almost as if sensing her own emotions. Its lunch foiled, the serpent turned and slithered away, leaving Alyssa and the mouse alone in the chamber once again.
Alyssa waited, still and quiet, as the chamber settled back into silence. She wondered whether the little mouse had escaped the field of mushrooms entirely, or if it was still here. But something told her to wait; a sense of hesitance and uncertainty that felt sourceless and yet compelling.
Eventually, her patience paid off, and the little mouse poked its head back out of the mushrooms, staring after the snake. It emitted a soft, hesitant noise, then furtively darted out of the field into the open. There, it paused to stare up at Alyssa, studying her with a raw curiosity that nearly overwhelmed Alyssa as much as the snake’s displeasure had. She also sensed gratitude from the little mouse, though how she knew that’s what it was feeling she could not say.
“Are you hurt?” she hazarded, as she leaned in towards the mouse. The little creature took a quick step back, and the curiosity was immediately replaced by uncertainty.
Alyssa straightened up to give the mouse space. The feeling of uncertainty slowly faded, and she tilted her head in curiosity. “Why can I sense what you're feeling?” she asked the mouse, though of course she knew it would not reply.
The mouse watched her for several more moments before taking a single daring step forward. Alyssa sat very still, and after another moment it took a few more steps towards her. Soon, it was near to her knee, its little nose twitching incessantly as it sniffed at her dampened skin.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any food on me,” Alyssa said, still not moving but to talk. The mouse sat back and stood up on its hind legs to peer up at her. Alyssa could sense its curiosity turn to acceptance, and then, before she could protest, the little mouse leapt up onto her leg. She gasped in startlement, surprised at the feel of its soft fur and the tickle of its little claws brushing against her bare skin.
When it reached her hip, the mouse scurried under her tee shirt, and Alyssa made a choking noise of displeasure as it crawled, with quick movements, up her back and out of the tattered collar. When it came to rest on her shoulder, Alyssa held her breath, not daring to move. She watched the mouse out of the side of her eye, and a sense of appreciation flooded into her perception. Slowly, she turned her head to see the mouse staring at her. With a twitch of its whiskers, the little creature poked its nose against her cheek, cool and damp, before turning to look at the mushrooms.
“You think they will be safe for me?” she asked quietly, as she turned to follow the mouse’s gaze. “But raw mushrooms …” she complained, with some disdain. The mouse touched its nose to her cheek once more, and Alyssa sensed insistence. With a sigh, she mumbled, “Why am I trusting a mouse?” before ever so slowly–so as not to dislodge her guest–she leaned forward to collect a handful of the morsels.
Alyssa straightened and studied her collection of mushrooms thoughtfully. Arranging them by size, she selected the smallest and glanced at the mouse out of the corner of her eye once more. "You're sure about this?" she asked, her voice echoing in the damp cavern. The mouse couldn't speak, of course, but Alyssa felt a strong sense of certainty from her tiny companion. Or maybe that was just the discomfort of hypothermia, exhaustion and her painfully full bladder talking.
Hesitantly, Alyssa popped the smallest mushroom into her mouth. It had a surprisingly rich, earthy flavor, reminiscent of the forest after a rainstorm. As she chewed, the spongy texture yielded, releasing a burst of liquid that filled her mouth with a strange, electric tingle. The sensation was not unpleasant, but definitely unfamiliar. She swallowed, marveling at how easily it went down despite her reservations.
Emboldened by the lack of immediate ill effects, Alyssa quickly consumed the other mushrooms. With each one, the tingling sensation spread, until her whole body hummed with a kind of vibrant, restless energy.
Cupping her hands together, Alyssa scooped up some of the cool water and drank deeply. The liquid soothed her throat, but did nothing to quell the building sense of excitement and unease. She leaned back against the rock, trying to steady herself as the mushrooms’ effects took hold.
It wasn't hallucinations, but a profound shift in Alyssa's perception. The cave seemed to come alive around her; the rocks and water pulsed with a subtle, resonant energy. She felt a surge of confidence and clarity, as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. With trembling hands, she tore a strip from the bottom of her t-shirt and fashioned it into a makeshift pouch. She wasn't sure what lay ahead, but having a source of food could prove useful. She filled the pouch to the brim with the glowing caps, marveling at their strangeness, before tying it securely to her hip.
"Okay," Alyssa whispered, her voice sounding strangely amplified to her own ears. "I guess we follow the snake." The thought of the serpent sent a ripple of fear through her companion, but she reassured him, "Don't worry, I won't let it get you." The little mouse was still afraid, but it seemed to understand her meaning, and nestled up against her neck, soft fur gentle on her skin.
With a deep breath, Alyssa rolled to her knees and stood, her legs trembling slightly. The mouse clung to her, its small heartbeat echoing her own. Alyssa could feel its mix of curiosity and trepidation, mirroring her own complex emotions. "Come on," she muttered, "let's go." She started forward into the gloom, following the serpent's path and the promise of fresh air. Using the glowing bundle on her hip as a makeshift light, Alyssa navigated the narrow tunnels with confidence. Her bare feet found easy purchase on the cool, damp stone. She progressed at a much more comfortable pace than the slow, exploratory crawl she'd been limited to in the submerged chamber. As she followed the winding tunnel, it sloped gradually upwards, and a light fog crept in, curling around her ankles. Alyssa's heart quickened. She dared to believe she was nearing open air, and a potential end to this nightmare.
Yet even as hope blossomed in her chest, each step brought a growing unease from the small, furry companion on Alyssa's shoulder. The mouse huddled closer to her neck, its nose twitching incessantly. As they rounded a corner, a new scent filled Alyssa's nostrils: earthy mud and a hint of ozone, in stark contrast to the mineral-rich dampness of the caverns. The tunnel widened sharply ahead, seeming to fall away into a murky expanse. Through the haze, the silhouette of a massive tree trunk promised an escape from what she had almost believed might be her tomb.
"We made it," Alyssa breathed, a swell of triumph surging through her. The mushrooms' influence still thrummed in her veins, confidence mingling with her own burgeoning anticipation. She quickened her pace, emerging from the cave mouth into the cool, damp air. Alyssa paused there, one hand on the stone wall, as she breathed in the scent of her freedom.
A twilit forest stretched out before her, dotted with towering trees that reached for an unfamiliar sky. Alyssa tilted her head back, marveling at the stars glimmering above. Their patterns were strange, yet mesmerizing; their strangeness only matched by the comfort they brought her. Alyssa knew the constellations were wrong; that they matched nothing she'd ever seen before, but right now all that mattered was the comfort in knowing that she would not die in that cave.
A squeak of pure terror from the mouse jolted Alyssa from her reverie. The force of her companion's fear nearly knocked the wind from her. Alyssa swiftly sought the source of the mouse's fear. There, beside the nearest tree, stood a tall, gaunt figure, a serpent slithering up its leg. The figure's cold blue eyes glared at Alyssa with a chilling intensity.
As the snake continued its ascent, the figure lifted a hand, guiding the snake to wrap about its too-long neck. Subtle, thorny protrusions emerged from the figure's chin, and the snake rubbed itself against them, hissing as it impressed its displeasure upon the figure, no doubt casting Alyssa as the villain in its tale.
"H-hello," Alyssa stammered, suddenly acutely aware of her vulnerability. She took a guarded step back and brought her hands up defensively. The figure's presence was oppressive, suffocating. Even in her desperation, Alyssa knew she wanted no part of any help they might offer. Still, she needed time to think. She had to find a way past them without provoking their ire, and an attempt at being polite was all she could come up with in the moment.
The figure spoke, its voice a grating rattle. "You have violated the ancient agreement, and trespassed beyond the barrier." Alyssa was sure she didn't know what any of that meant, but before she could say so, the figure continued, "There are consequences for your meddling, child, and I am come to deliver them."
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2024.05.29 01:17 kayenano The Villainess Is An SS+ Rank Adventurer: Chapter 245

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Synopsis:
Juliette Contzen is a lazy, good-for-nothing princess. Overshadowed by her siblings, she's left with little to do but nap, read … and occasionally cut the falling raindrops with her sword. Spotted one day by an astonished adventurer, he insists on grading Juliette's swordsmanship, then promptly has a mental breakdown at the result.
Soon after, Juliette is given the news that her kingdom is on the brink of bankruptcy. At threat of being married off, the lazy princess vows to do whatever it takes to maintain her current lifestyle, and taking matters into her own hands, escapes in the middle of the night in order to restore her kingdom's finances.
Tags: Comedy, Adventure, Action, Fantasy, Copious Ohohohohos.
Chapter 245: A Clockwork Wish
The quiet streets of Hartzwiese stood in contrast to the lights of the many inns, bars and taverns.
Despite its modest size, the town boasted as many drinking establishments as there were adventurers somehow drunk enough to be booted from the guild hall. And yet for all the bright lanterns singing from the windows, they paled in comparison to the moonlight as it graced the steps before me. A white carpet ushering me towards a tavern Apple was now using as a stables, and where I could enjoy a complementary room, courtesy of the fact I now owned it.
But before I could put my day’s labours behind me, there was still an important task I had to do.
The most important.
Rewarding my loyal handmaiden, who throughout these arduous days had remained firm and true as much as the sword by my side.
Indeed, no ill deed went unpunished, and no good service went unrewarded.
Why … she even knew the same.
Stopping before a large fountain in the centre of the town square, Coppelia held her palm out towards me as she eyed the faintly glittering surface.
“Gimme change,” she said brightly.
“Change?”
“I want to toss a coin into the fountain~”
My mouth opened wide.
“E-Excuse me! I know very well you possess coins of your own! Furthermore, I’ll not give you money from our hard earned hazelnut croissant fund merely to quite literally toss it away!”
“It’s not throwing it away. It’s making a wish.”
“A wish?”
“Mmh~ drop a coin into a fountain. Get a wish. An absolute bargain. Haven’t you tried it before?”
“Coppelia, I’ve no need to drop coins into fountains. I ring a bell. That’s how my wishes come true.”
“Well, do you have the bell with you?”
I paused.
“... No.”
“There you go, then! Until you get your bell back, you’ll need to toss away coins for your wishes.”
She beamed with childish expectation, palm still outstretched, fully expecting me to humour her request.
Well, sadly for Coppelia, I was not so easily moved!
Our personal finances went into maintaining a minimal standard of living! And that meant every coin we had to spare went into purchasing premium apples and cinnamon rolls! It would be unconscionable of me to allow it to be spent so frivolously!
“Staaaaaaaaaaaare~”
I rolled my eyes.
“... Fine, one copper crown,” I said, rummaging through my bottomless pouch. “Really now, this is hardly a djinn you’re bribing. I’m surprised you wish to add to the fountain and not merely scoop up what’s there.”
“Hey! I have standards! … I don’t like copper, it’s less shiny than silver and gold and gets in the way when I rummage through my ill-gotten gains.”
I offered Coppelia a sigh along with the small coin.
She accepted it with a giggle. As she turned to the fountain, the stars twinkled from her eyes more than the surface of the clear water.
Plop.
It vanished into the depths.
A small proof of our hardship, now given to the fountain to judge and a magpie to steal come the morning.
“And what wish do you hope to acquire through a less shiny copper crown?”
Coppelia merely smiled.
No word left her lips as her turquoise eyes gazed at the fountain’s disturbed surface. She herself was motionless but for the soft wind tugging at the ends of her fluffy golden hair.
And then–she twirled on the spot.
Arms spinning around, she raised them out and stopped like a melodramatic ballerina.
“World domination! I shall subjugate all squishy life under my cute, clockwork heel!”
“Please pick a different wish,” I replied, waving her declaration away as I would a plain chouquette. “World domination has already been chosen by half the world’s rulers. There’s not enough wishes in any fountain to accommodate them all.”
“... Got it! I’ll take an apple strudel!”
“You can wish for something that isn’t already in our possession.”
“In that case, I’ll take an apple strudel from every bakery in the world!”
I nodded. Better. Especially as I was far more dependable than any wishing fountain.
Indeed, as soon as I returned to the Royal Villa, I’d order a squire to go fetch an apple strudel from every bakery in the world as part of some inane quest!
“But what about you?” she asked, never knowing the suffering and hardship her casual request had just caused somebody not me. “Don’t you have any wishes for the totally legitimate wishing fountain?”
I held a hand to my chest, scoffing with a princess’s dignity.
“Ohohoho … for the fountain? No. I’ve no need for a fountain to make my wishes come true, for I have my own strength of purpose. And that is enough to grant all I desire. The prosperity of my kingdom. The health of my family. And the loyalty of my subjects.”
Coppelia leaned towards me, her smile appraising my own.
“Reeaaaally?”
I reacted with the indignation such scepticism deserved … and also a quick glance around me as I eyed for witnesses.
“... W-Well, if I could maybe have one thing, it would be an opportunity to finish reading my current novels. I have been stuck on the same pages for far too long.”
“That really annoys you, huh?”
“I-It’s terrible, Coppelia! At this rate, I’ll need to re-read some of them … and frankly, it’s enough of a strike against my fragile heart to do so once! There is only so much research a princess can take!”
My loyal handmaiden giggled. She wouldn’t if she knew the dangers that overexposure to the world of bestselling adventure romances could cause. I’d seen noblewomen collapsing at court more often with a copy of Scandals Of The Incorrigible Viscount in hand than any knife to the back.
A moment later–
Plop.
A second copper crown was casually tossed into the fountain.
“Done~” said Coppelia with a satisfied clap. “I’ve made your wish for you!”
My mouth widened as I stared between the fresh ripples and her mischievous smile.
“E-Excuse me! Didn’t you say you had no copper crowns?”
“I only said I didn’t like them. I never said I didn’t have just the one lying around. Isn’t that great? Now it means we both get our wishes! Apple strudels and scandalous books galore!”
“C-Coppelia! That is an entirely unnecessary waste of a copper crown … and more besides, I could have wished for a dragon’s hoard!”
“I mean, you could. But if you thought people were a problem before, wait until they know you’re even richer than a normal princess. You’d have burglars breaking into your vault even while you’re still busy swimming around in the pile of gold.”
“Please. That happens regardless of whether or not a dragon’s hoard is involved. And if it ever became a true issue, well … I’d simply solve it by hiring a dragon.”
“You’d hire a dragon to guard a dragon’s hoard?”
“Why not? There’s clearly no better proven warden.”
“Yep, that’s true. They’d even guard it against you. How would you get the treasure back?”
“I wouldn’t. It’d simply exist to slowly erase the population of burglars from my kingdom. That would be its true value.”
Coppelia looked up in thought.
“Huh. That sounds suspiciously like something which could work.”
I smiled with quiet pride. But not too quiet. I had my pride, after all.
“Ohohoh … naturally, I’m not only a princess. I’m a genius … but since I’m mostly a princess, this also means ensuring my retainers are rewarded for their service, and bribed concerning any slovenly faces I may have made.”
“Now that’s the level of subtlety I like. Negative numbers.”
“Well, negative numbers is also how I value most fae trinkets. But perhaps you can find worth in it.”
Coppelia clapped her hands together and beamed.
“Ooooh~! I smell souvenirs! Did you steal toiletries on the way out of the Fae Realm?”
“I did not steal toiletries! … although if I’d seen any, I possibly may have!”
“So you stole something else? Like cutlery?”
“Coppelia! I do not steal things whenever I visit a different plane of existence!”
“Why not? Everyone else does.”
“I am not ‘everyone’. Even when abducted, I’m still required to display the regal bearing of my station, representing always my kingdom and my family … and there was no cutlery, either.”
“Wow. You must have had an awful time.”
I gave a grim nod.
No toiletries. No cutlery. Not even a branded napkin.
The next time I was indiscriminately abducted to the Fae Realm, I’d ensure I would wander lost until a stack of towels accidentally fell into my arms.
“It was dire. But while I didn’t return empty handed, it was with nothing drawn from a dragon’s hoard or edible like a mound of apple strudels. Regardless, here is a gift acquired from the Spring Queen to add to your collection of trinkets and doodads I have no wish to know about.”
Thus, I reached into my bottomless bag, sweated as I fished for a slender object, and then retrieved a small ring of jade.
Unlike the crystal ring gifted to me by the Winter Queen and now embellished by her sister, the jade ring was adorned only with a pattern of crystalline vines upon the band, lacking any jewel set upon it.
Even so, Coppelia’s eyes lit up like a twin pair of moons.
She pointed at herself.
“Wait, is that for me?”
“Indeed, it is. You may have it.”
“Eh … ehhh?! It actually looks expensive, though! I was expecting something like a postcard!”
I raised a brow.
“If you’d prefer a postcard, I’m sure I could ask for one instead.”
Coppelia appeared speechless. Something so impossible not even a fountain could grant it.
Blinking in disbelief, she reached out and accepted the ring. Without putting it on, she held it against the moonlight, studying its finish.
“Ooooh~ it’s so shiny! … Will I blow up if I wear it?”
“No.” I paused. “At least, I don’t think so.”
Coppelia stopped as the ring met her finger.
“There’s no need to fear,” I added as I took a step away. “It’s a ring gifted by the Spring Queen, and so is imbued also by her magic.”
“I’m not hearing anything which says I won’t blow up.”
“You won’t blow up. Probably. After all, this thing is still little more than a child’s trinket. It contains a single favoured plaything from her court of dreams. The very swing she sat upon during our meeting.”
“The swing?”
“The swing. I believe it functions similarly to the bed. Why not try summoning it in the same manner?”
Deciding she’d paid enough tribute to caution, Coppelia popped the ring on.
She studied herself to ensure she hadn’t melted, before raising her hand in curiosity.
“Sooooo … do I just need to say [Summon Swing] and–woooaahh!!”
Poof.
The moment the words left her lips, she was lifted from the ground as a swing of crystalline leaves and vines appeared where she stood, seating her automatically in the process. Against the dour backdrop of Hartzwiese’s decidedly human streets, it shone with as much vividness as the Spring Queen’s mirror-like wings.
Coppelia blinked, her eyes wide as she wrapped her hands around the ropes of crystallised vines.
And then–
She began to swing.
With only the rustling of her clothes and the fluttering of her hair to disturb the quiet scenery, she proceeded to test the Spring Queen’s plaything, wasting little time before she began to swing like a pendulum, backwards and forwards at greater speeds.
She did not say a word, nor voice any thoughts, and although she wore a smile upon her face, it was no different to one she regularly affixed upon herself.
A moment of doubt struck me.
“N-Naturally, it’s rather unorthodox as a gift. It is no great heirloom or weapon, and rather impractical so far as useful function is concerned. But I imagine the ring itself is worth some value. If you do not want it, I’m certain some curio collector would pay for its novelty value. Regardless, please consider it as a bonus.”
Suddenly, Coppelia leapt off the swing in mid-flight. She skipped a few steps owing to the momentum, yet still pirouetted effortlessly on one foot as she twisted around to face me.
Her widening smile was the only warning I received.
“–Hiieeee?!”
Because the next moment …
I experienced the sensation of being hoisted off my feet.
Oh no.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!”
Wrapping her arms around my waist, she easily lifted me up.
A feeling I’d experienced once before. And one I had not forgotten. Terror mixed with only the tiniest drop of excitement met me as I was promptly swung like an errant pillow.
“C-Coooppeeeliaaaa!! M-My priiiinnceess imaaggee!!”
With a girlish smile, Coppelia paid no heed to my meek and delicate cry as she twirled on the spot.
Around and around, my hair billowed behind me as all the town became a blur which helped to hide the many holes and cracks in the walls and windows, until somehow, the other side of my hair became known to the opposite side of my face.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee~”
Just as I felt the world beginning to take on entirely new colours, she came to a stop.
She placed me down, continuing to smile as I waved away her supporting hands. I stumbled as I chased equilibrium, all the while blowing the many strands of my dark hair away from my mouth. My fingers instinctively went into emergency combing mode.
“I-It seems … uughh … you enjoy … the gift … uuuh … I’m … I’m pleased …”
Coppelia stepped back, arms behind her back as she gave another twirl, this time mercifully without me attached. Like a maiden in a meadow, she lightly skipped around her new magically summoned fae swing, examining its fine spring motifs and crystalline details, before finally turning to me once again.
I leaned away, not least because there were now several versions of her before me.
“Thankies~” she said brightly. “I like this a lot!”
I held my tummy, making sure nothing terrible was about to happen before I replied.
“You’re … uugh … you’re welcome …”
She gave a giggle of amusement at my expense, then seated herself on her new swing once again.
For my part, I rather desperately eyed the direction of my kingdom’s latest acquisition. A tavern which possessed very helpful walls. Even if I had no intention on using the beds within them.
After all–
It wasn’t only Coppelia who had reason to smile tonight.
Indeed … I also had a new and improved bed to enjoy!
Now that my minor detour to this corner of my countryside was complete, my only remaining task was to thoroughly and objectively test the Spring Queen’s magic for myself.
Yes … it was time to indulge my face in the Winter Queen’s pillow once again! To hug a silken duvet now gifted with the scent of an eternal meadow! A moment to thoroughly reward myself as I purposefully shoved any and all dangerous thoughts of tomorrow to the wayside!
And nothing, I knew, could disturb me from my slumber!
That ominous feeling I’d forgotten something important?
Why … I barely even felt it!
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2024.05.29 00:31 Personal-Tea7226 The confession

I always knew I was different. I was always fascinated with death and the macabre. I remember when I was younger I would perform experiments on animals and insects. I would maim animals then starve them for a few days before putting them in pits to fight for their survival. Although the winners usually met a grizzly end just the same. I was often distracted when talking to people wondering how they would look like in their final moments.
When I was eleven my parents took me on a road trip holiday. They packed the car up and we set off across the country, the idea was we would visit several of the states and see the lesser known treasures that they held. I’d fallen asleep in the back of the car. I was woken by sound of horns and metal crunching into metal. Glass exploded all around me and the smell of gasoline and other oils filled my nostrils. My dad and the other driver were killed instantly. My mum held on a bit longer probably scared to leave me alone. We were on a country road and it was a time before mobile phones. I was alone with the dead and dying and other than a few bumps I was in good shape. I sat in the back of that car surrounded by destruction and listened as my mother took her final breaths. The strangest thing was I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t sad or angry, I had no emotion for the events that had made me an orphan, but as I sat listening to my mother gurgle and gasp I could feel my cock getting harder. Slowly I began to stroke myself to the sounds of my mother dying. I don’t know if it was prepubescence but I didn’t finish it just felt good.
I’m not sure how long I sat in the car for before I decided to get out and look at the other bodies. The man driving the other car had veered into our lane and hit us head on. The sudden impact had ejected him from his seat, his face was half sticking through the glass, I could see white from his skull in places as his face had essentially been peeled back. I looked back at my parents who sat in their metallic coffin crumpled around them. By the time the police arrived it was dark. After the accident I was awarded some money by the state and sent to live with my aunt until I matured enough to collect it.
I continued with my fascination of death using animals and bugs but I had also found a new thrill, car wrecks. I bought a scanner radio so I could listen for any accidents local enough that I could ride to them. But they didn’t hold the same excitement as being there when they happened. Being alone with the person as their life ebbed away was something very special. It wasn’t long before I started trying to stage accidents. I would place things in the road trying to cause vehicles to swerve or have a blow out in the hopes that they would crash in front of me but they never did.
I wouldn’t say I have an endless pot of money but I have enough that I don’t need to work yet can still afford to buy certain things and not worry. I bought an old wreck, fixed it up and modified it so I could take the impact of a head on smash, then I would cruise dark roads looking to fulfil my needs. There’s something mystical about those last few moments when a person passes, the air feels colder yet more alive, electrical almost, it’s hard to explain unless you feel it for yourself. I suppose it’s like when the air is charged right before a lightning strike. You can taste it in the air, its smell hangs heavy around you.
I witnessed many people passing, I had to help one or two but that’s not the same, it’s exhilarating don’t get me wrong being the direct cause as their life slips away, but it’s not the same, it takes away the focus. This was my drug, my ecstasy, it was all I could think about day and night. The trouble with highs is you’re always chasing them and at some point catching them isn’t enough. They become stagnant. Now the itch required a different way to scratch. I tried many different things including torturing one guy who seemed pretty unscathed from the accident, maybe he’d fell asleep. I even had sex with a woman as she passed but nothing scratched that itch I needed more, I needed….. something.
It happened by mistake, a happy little accident. I hit the car as I usually did , but this time it ignited! A spark from underneath just lit it up. The driver was unconscious but the passenger oh! how she screamed. I had found the backscratcher to my itch. I started keeping gasoline and matches in my car so I could finish it by flame every time. I think I had done three or four when I saw her. She was naked and she was dancing but there was no denying the image in the flames were my mother in all her glory beckoning for me to come and dance with her. We could be together again as a family if I just took her hand. I sat and I watched her dancing in the flames longing to be with her again but fearing the pain of her touch. For now my itch is forgotten, I have a new desire, I want NO! I need to see her again. I need to see her dancing. That’s where you come in. You are going to help me get back to her. Through you her vision can be released. It’s ok if you scream, it can be the song to which she dances.
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2024.05.29 00:30 Saint-Andros Out of Our Elements A NoP FanFic 20

Out of Our Elements A NoP FanFic 20
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Set in the universe created by u/SpacePaladin15
MASSIVE THANK YOU, LIKE SERIOUSLY HUGE THANKS to u/weithbec (this chapter would not be nearly as good if not for your help) and additional thanks to u/Liberty-Prime76 for further proofing on top of Weith's monumental efforts
As always, some appreciation to u/brotanics, u/LeWombat545, and u/JimDandy117 for the art they have done for this little story of mine. It means the world to me to see my characters brought to life. Links to their work at the bottom of the chapter.
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Memory transcription subject: Tevri, Venlil Romanticist
Date [standardized human time]: August 17, 2137
In my hands I held the broken halves of what used to be the makeshift chair that Omo had sat me in. The Krakotl lay motionless on the floor, a large violet gash now visible on the back of his head.
There was now a small indentation in the wall, just a few feet away from Jack. The gun Omo had held tumbled to the ground during the scuffle. Smoke still trailed from its barrel, and my sensitive ears rang in the moments following its deafening boom.
The broken bits of chair slipped from my hands and clattered to the ground as I fell to the floor. Both hands rose to my mouth as my eyes watered and my ears fell flat against the back of my head. What have I done?
There was no chance I was going to just stand there and watch as Jack was executed, but the weight of what I just did was made no lighter by knowing I saved him.
This kid very well could have been any of my friends from back on Skalga if not for fate having other plans. Could I even pretend I was still an empathetic person after clubbing a child over the head?
They were right, weren’t they? I’ve been a monster this whole time. All it took was the perfect moment for me to snap.
“Tevri?”
The voice snapped me back to my senses as I turned and saw Jack looking back at me. Shit!
I scrambled over, kneeling down beside him. At first I reached out with a paw, but as he winced and hissed while shifting around, I pulled it back.
“A-are, you alright?” He asked.
“Wha—am I alright?” I bleated out. “You’re the one with a hole in you!”
His eyes broke from mine and went back down to his abdomen where crimson blood stained his clothes. Despite the circumstances, he offered a weak laugh. “Ah. Yeah. I am, aren’t I?”
“W-we need to call for medical assistance!”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already called the first responders. They should be here soon. You still didn’t answer my question though. Are you alright?”
“I…”
Was I? Being knocked unconscious, then being drugged and dragged through the woods to a shack and being held hostage by a former exterminator probably doesn’t constitute “being okay.”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, do you think you’re alright enough to tie up that kid’s hands behind his back? You got him pretty good but I’d rather not take chances.”
I looked over to where Omo lay and saw that he was still motionless. “O-okay, but you may need to guide me.”
And guide me he did as I took the binds that once held me and wrapped them around the Krakotl’s arms, pinning them behind his back. I followed Jack’s advice, who did all that he could considering his current state. I took advantage of this moment to distract myself from my thoughts by being busy with my paws, but a distraction only lasts so long, and after a few minutes Omo was properly tied up.
I’d occasionally glance towards Jack as he offered instructions, watching as his skin grew more and more pale with every passing moment. Even with the distraction of tying up Omo’s hands, the guilt of knowing there was nothing I could do to help tugged at my heart.
After finishing up, I gingerly picked up the firearm and knife that had fallen aside and brought them to him, handing both over. Jack pressed a button on the gun’s side and something slid out of the weapon. He tossed this aside before pulling back the sliding top of it and pulling out a bullet that he also tossed into the dirt. Satisfied, he lay the weapon down beside him.
“There,” he said with a sigh.
“S-so what now?”
“We wait I guess,” he said, looking at me. He tried to slide closer, but as he did, he groaned and pressed a hand to his side, closing his eyes.
I let out a quiet whine and my ears fell back against my head, my tail wrapping itself around his leg. “I-it’s going to be alright. I promise.”
Despite the obvious pain that wracked his body, a smile touched the corners of his mouth. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“D-don’t talk like that. Y-you’re going to be fine.”
“I think we’re well past that point.” As he said this, he lifted his hand from the spreading stain at his waist and reached out for me. I took his hand in my paw and offered a supportive squeeze. The hand I took hold of was coated in his own blood. It stained my paws as I laced my fingers between his, doing my best to not wretch at the sensation. I don’t think I could say I had ever seen so much blood in my life. The fight to maintain composure was a struggle that I was only just coming out on top of.
“J-just stay with me. Okay?”
He took a deep breath and squeezed back. “I’m trying my best here. Though I’ve not exactly got a good track record of keeping my word, do I?”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“C’mon Tev, you don’t gotta mince words just cause I’m dyin’ here. I fucked up bad, and you got hurt.”
“It’s okay. W-we can worry about that w-when we’re out of here.”
Jack sank further down the wall behind him, slouching and hanging his head. “I dunno. Not so sure they’ll be able to put me back together after this.”
“You’re going to be okay. You said it yourself. People are coming to help. We just need to wait a little longer. Just keep on talking to me. You can do that, right?”
He gave a slow nod. “I’ll try my best, but it’s hard. Everything’s a little… foggy. Don’t know how much blood I’ve lost. Probably too much though.”
Panic gripped my heart. No, no, no! This can’t be happening. Stars above. Please… I can’t lose someone else. Not again.
“You have to hold on. I need you.”
Jack gave a weak chuckle. “Naw. I don’t think you ever needed me. If anything, you’d be better off without me here to scare you half to death. Hell, if it hadn’t been for me neither of us’d be here in the first place.” The translator was still doing its job, but I could hear his voice had grown weaker. Each word was a struggle.
“You made a mistake. Just another to add to the pile. What matters is that you’re sorry. We’ll sort this all out once we know you’re safe, but for now, just focus on staying with me.”
Jack’s face twisted, his eyebrows furrowing and his face softening. “H-how? How can you still believe in me? You trusted me to protect you and I failed.”
I shook my head. “There aren’t enough seconds in the day to count how many times I’ve failed the people I love.” Gently, I bumped my head up against his shoulder and wrapped my claws around his arm. “But it took me meeting you to realize that we’re more than just our failures.”
“I… glad I was able to help.” The strength of his hand held in mine waned, and I squeezed it tighter to make up for the loss.
“We’re going to make it through this together. We have to.”
“We’ll see.”
We continued to wait like this, each minute dragging on for a small eternity. I didn’t want to sap his strength, so I elected to remain silent. In this silence, the distraction from my thoughts melted away, leaving me exposed.
I shot a glance to where Omo still lay. His body rose and fell as he breathed, so there was that at least, but otherwise he was out cold. Look at what you’ve done. How would your family feel about this? How would your friends feel?
A number of his feathers lay strewn about in a pile around him from the force of the impact. I—I did it to protect him. I had to. There was no other choice!
There’s always a choice.
I couldn’t just let him die!
You may be right, but what does it say that your first thought was resorting to violence? Maybe your parents were right. Maybe something is wrong with you.
No. I will not allow myself to regret this. There was no other choice in the heat of the moment. I did what I did, but it’s done now. All that matters is that Jack makes it out to get the help he needs.
As I stamped out the fire among my thoughts, Jack broke the silence as he softly spoke up.“So. If we do manage to make it out of here, what happens to us?”
I hummed in contemplation. “I don’t know. Do… Do you still think this could work?”
“I’ll leave that up to you. Lord knows whether I deserve to have someone like you in my life after the shit I’ve pulled.”
My ears fell flat against the back of my head. As much as I may have wanted to deny it, he hurt me. He knew the weakness of my flighty instincts and took advantage of them to scare me off in his anger. Sure, he was sorry, but could sorry even heal these wounds? The safety I felt in his presence was wounded by what he had done. Maybe given time, that wound could heal, but would a relationship like ours even have the chance to do so? Time. Yeah. That’s what we need.
“I think we need to give it some time.”
Jack grunted. “A shame it doesn’t seem like we’ve got much left. Or rather, doesn’t seem like I’ve got much left. If it wasn’t already obvious, I’m not doing too hot.”
“Don’t talk like that,” I pleaded.
“I’m sorry it had to go this way,” he muttered. “M-maybe if we’d taken us a bit slower this wouldn’t’ve hurt so much. It was stupid of me. I’ve barely known you all of a week and I’ve fallen head over heels only to throw it all away.”
I squeezed his arm tight. “Please,” I mewled. “Even if what we’ve found here doesn’t last past this week, I still want you in my life. Can you hold on just a little longer for me?”
Tears began to well up in the man’s eyes as a smile crept across his face. “I’ll try my best. How about for now though, I hold on to you?”
He took both arms and held them outward. Considering the stress, the terror, the fear, and the pain that had plagued me today, the opportunity of an embrace was too much to pass up. “I think I’d like that.”
I came in closer, and Jack pulled his hand from his abdomen to wrap it around me, pulling me closer. I let go of his other arm, and he repeated the motion with his other hand, pulling me up against his body with both arms in a tight hug as I lay sprawled across his chest.
My face settled right beneath Jack’s. His deep blue eyes stared directly into mine as we sat there together. He ran a hand across the back of my head, parsing the wool on my crown. His breath tickled my face, causing a bloom of orange to spread across it. Though perhaps fractured and damaged like both of our bodies right now, the sense of safety I felt before when with him began to grow once more within me.
“This is nice,” I whispered.
“Yeah…” he leaned in closer to my face, red rushing to his cheeks as he did so. “I uh, I’ve been meaning to do this for a little while now. Figure it’d be best to do it while I still can.”
“Wha—”
Jack leaned in and interrupted me as his lips met my snout, pressing against my mouth and into it. The warmth of his body against me and his breath mixed with mine, stirring up an intoxicating cocktail of conflicting sensations. I had heard of and even seen humans kissing before, but I always found it odd — until now that is. A display such as this, to join your mouth against someone else's, would have once been deemed outright predatory and discouraged by exterminator guidelines. Then again, I never did care too much for such rules.
We both held out for as long as we could until I needed to breathe, then after a quick gasp, I dove back in again. The warmth shared between us was greater than the light of the sun, and so I closed my eyes, allowing myself to bask in its radiance. For this moment, I allowed my worries to melt away as I melted in his arms and we gave ourselves to each other. All good things must come to an end though, and with no small amount of hesitance, I pulled myself away.
I breathed heavily through my mouth, catching my breath to chase away what I now realized was a sense of lightheadedness — one which was most likely brought on by said lack of breathing. “Wow, that was… wow.”
There was no response, only the quick, shallow rise and fall of his chest as I took note of a gentle buzzing that I hadn’t noticed before. Both ears perked upright of their own volition and turned to face the door of the hovel. I could tell that even Jack had heard it as he shifted where he sat and lifted his head to look outside.
“Is that…” As I trailed off, Jack offered an answer, his voice more quiet than the last time he spoke.
“Yeah. I think that’s them. Shouldn’t be long before they show up.” The man offered another weak squeeze that made me realize just how cold he’d grown. Most of the warmth shared between us was my own, but there was only so much it could do to help.
The hope that sprouted in my heart was just as quickly stamped out the moment he spoke. “I-I’m getting real sleepy here sheep. J-just… just stay safe for me, okay?”
“What? No! No, no, no! Hey! Stay with me!” I began to try and rock him back and forth to keep him awake, but he didn’t seem to respond. “They—they’re going to be here soon,” I stammered. “Everything will be alright.”
As he closed his eyes, he whispered one last time. “No… everything… is.”
The tears flowed freely now as I continued in vain to try and keep him awake. “Jack? Stay with me!” I bumped my head against his, shook his shoulders, pinched his arm, and even resorted to pounding against his chest to try and wake him.
“Please, I—I can’t lose someone else. Not like this… not like this…”
The sound of the humming had only grown louder during my desperate attempts to bring him back. After nothing I could do stirred him, I curled up against his chest and waited, placing my head beneath his to offer it support rather than allow it to loll forward.
With my ears pressed against his chest, I could hear the faint thump-thump of his heartbeat. I didn’t know how fast a human’s heart was supposed to beat, but if that of a Venlil’s was in any way comparable, it was far too slow for comfort.
His arms no longer wrapped around me, instead lying limp at his side. My tail twined around his leg, and I hugged my chest with both arms, one eye pressed against his chest while the other was stuck on the door leading outside.
The hum had grown to a roar, but soon enough, its growth halted. The thumping in my chest raced as though it were trying to make up for Jack’s own fading heart, or catch up to the constant, rhythmic thrumming.
Without warning, the door burst open and I squealed as blinding lights illuminated the room. I raised both paws to cover my face, but the damage was already done. Everything became a blurry haze. The room was filled with shouting that shot back and forth between different voices. They were gruff and gravelly as their growled words played themselves back through my translator. Before my vision properly returned, I heard a voice break through the crowd of others.
“Ma’am? Ma’am, are you okay?” A hand grabbed my shoulder and gently shook it. I looked up to a figure in a helmet and mask, but I didn’t have the energy to work up a response. Instead, I shifted gently where I lay. “I need to move you if you’ll let me.” Again, I didn’t budge.
Hands scooped me up, with only a slight amount of resistance on my part as I wriggled in an attempt to return to where I lay. I wanted to stay with him, but a human’s strength was something I couldn’t dare hope to surpass — why even bother?
The blurriness faded just enough to allow me a view of what I was leaving behind. Human-shaped figures in dark clothing surrounded Jack, leaning over him to readjust his body. I caught mention of “blood loss,” and “shock” before being whisked outside where the voices died down and the source of the humming became apparent.
Through the darkness of night, lights illuminated the two helicopters hovering in the air. Their blades cut through the air, blowing the bows of the trees below and sending ripples through the grass. Ropes hung from each helicopter, and from one of them, three more of these similarly dressed humans slid down them to join their compatriots.
The human that carried me set me down outside on the ground, where I wrapped both arms around my legs and set my head on my knees. I tried to muster up the energy to do something, anything, but it just wasn’t there.
I flinched as two hands grasped my shoulders, but when turning around, I relaxed. A reflective blanket had been wrapped around me by the same human that had carried me out. Their mask and helmet had since been removed to reveal their piercing green eyes, dark skin, and short curly hair. I wasn’t exactly used to such a sight — their sight — I would have practically wilted under them a week ago.
They walked around, crouching down to an eye level in front of me. “Are you hurt Ma’am?” If their voice was anything to go by, they seemed to be a woman, though it was difficult to say for sure beneath the bulky layers of armor they wore.
I blinked once, then snapped back to focus. “Is he going to be okay?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.” The answer wasn’t exactly a comforting one, but after giving it, she placed a hand on my shoulders and locked eyes with me. “But I can tell you this. Our paramedics will do everything they can to make sure he will be.”
Though it was no guarantee, these words did offer some small amount of comfort.
Almost a year ago now, some unlikely friends offered comfort in a similar — if not quite so dire — situation. It was only right that I respond now just as I did then. I threw both arms forward, wrapping them around the neck of this woman in as tight a hug as I was able to offer. “Thank you.”
“Oh. Uh… sure. Glad I could help.” She wrapped her arms around me in turn, scrunching up the blanket she had just offered me.
He’ll make it. He has to.
---
Cover Image
Tevri in a sweater - By u/Brotanics
Tevri - By u/Brotanics
A Depiction of Jack's Dream - By u/LeWombat545
Tevri (Discord Nitro Exchange Commision >:D ) - By u/JimDandy117
Lil' Goob Tevri - By u/JimDandy117
---
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2024.05.29 00:12 Lanzen_Jars A job for a deathworlder [Chapter 169]

[Chapter 1] ; [Previous Chapter] ; [Discord + Wiki] ; [Patreon]
Chapter 169 – A moment of truth. A moment to lie.
Shida exhaled slowly as she flew in a parallel line along the massive, slowly rotating hull of the Sun. The near true-black surface of the enormous ship loomed ominously next to her, tricking her brain into the impression that it was somehow trying to pull her tiny little hunter into it like a black hole or some shadowy portal. Though obviously, that was just a literal trick of the light.
Activating her frontal thrusters yet again to slow the momentum of her flight, she just barely noticed the movement on the hull next to her as something adjusted to the now slowing movement of her cargo. A moment later, a harpoon much like the one she herself had fired into the lump of molten material that had solidified around the still dutifully pinging black box shot against the precious debris, latching onto it and connecting it to the larger ship.
With the press of a button, Shida's own harpoon then automatically shot off its tip before her hunter reeled in the connecting cable as well as the remaining rod. Almost as soon as she was detached, the Sun's harpoon already began to reel the black box lump in as well.
It admittedly took a bit of time and finesse, but this process was still much easier than trying to somehow land with the barely controllable lump of hull-slag still attached to her ship.
Rubbing a hand over one of her hears, Shida released a mild huff before then firing her engines up again as she adjusted her course to fly around the ship and find her way into the dock.
Once the slightly precarious maneuver of flying through the relatively narrow, rotating tunnel that was her entrance was overcome, the feline turned her hunter onto 'life support' mode as she sat back, since she would have to wait for the atmosphere in the dock to be reinstated before she could even think about getting out.
Suddenly, a comm came in for her, making her ears twitch as she listened up.
“Please move your ship to the corner of the dock and stand by, Lieutenant-Commander,” the voice from her radio informed her briefly. “The dock will be needed for the landing of an urgent shuttle. Atmosphere cannot be reinstated before it has landed.”
Blinking slightly, Shida stared at her console for a moment. Shuttle? Why was there shuttle flying around in a situation like this?
Luckily, it didn't even take a full second before her brain fired up again and she quickly reached for the button to activate her own microphone.
“Copy that,” she said before quickly starting her ship up again, just enough so that she could slowly roll it into the dock's corner. Once there, she activated her microphone again. “Standing by,” she announced before leaning back once again.
She released a long exhale as she stared at the wall that was now right in front of her. And as she sat there with nothing to do but to think while she was surrounded by an airless room, she slowly began to feel that something was wrong.
Not with the situation, no. Even if she still wondered why the hell a shuttle was dicking around out there just after an active combat situation, that wasn't what was irking her. Though, admittedly, she also didn't really know what was. Was it something about herself? Not really. She felt fine.
Though, after a few more moments of being alone with her thoughts, it slowly began to hit her. Why did she feel so fine?
Not that she had expected to be totally broken up by a combat situation, even if it was sudden. She was trained for that much, she sure would hope that she wouldn't let it get to her too much. However, while not being too stressed out was one thing...why wasn't she angrier?
The last few times she had so much as heard about an attack, she had been absolutely livid. Blood-boilingly so. And that didn't even come close to how she had felt when she saw the victims of the attack on the detention center...
But now? She was calm. They had just been attacked out of nowhere. She had been dragged into a sudden battle. So many people, both foe and friend, had died today. And she was sad about that. She felt the remorse about the people who had been killed here. She even felt the aftereffects of pulling the trigger herself down in her stomach. But apart from that? Nothing.
What was different now? Where was that fire? And more importantly...was it good or bad that it was so suddenly gone?
Prooobably something to bring up with Dr. Nasution once she got an opportunity to attend her next session, which would probably be quite soon given current circumstances. It had been a while with everything that was going on, but she figured there was at least a good chance that their 'pleasure cruise' would not be continuing after everything that had occurred.
It seemed that the coreworlds were even more hostile ground than they had imagined.
About a quarter of an hour later, the announced shuttle had finally settled down and all hatches were sealed shut while air was slowly funneled back into the room. It took maybe a minute or two more before a specialized sensor in her ship informed her with a glowing light on her console that the surroundings were once again breathable, meaning she could safely open her hatch.
Pressing the corresponding button, the hatch of her ship sprang open, releasing a slight hiss as the seal was broken and air-exchange with the outside took place for the first time since she had closed it.
Once it was open, Shida could already hear some commotion as a large group of people came immediately flooding into the room as soon as it was safe to do so, and once she had climbed out onto the wing of her ship, she could see that they had come bearing large bags as they hurried towards the shuttle, which was currently in the process of lowering its ramp.
Resisting her urge to stand and stare to see what was going on, Shida climbed off the wing in order to go and properly announce her return.
However, almost as soon as her feet made contact with the dock's floor, she suddenly felt how she was almost taken off her feet by another body crashing into hers, startling her so much that her claws were already coming out as her arms raised to meet her sudden tackler – though a combination of a familiar scent and breathing luckily soothed her nerves long before her aware mind could catch up to who had run into her there.
Instead of sinking their claws in, her hand laid flatly down on James' broad back as her arms wrapped around him to return his sudden hug. As she held him, she could feel that he was quite unsteady on his feet, and she subtly supported him to not loose his footing as they embraced for a long moment.
A bit of a purr started up in her chest as she leaned her head against his. She didn't say anything, worrying that it may come off as mockery if she did, but she could feel that he had been worried about her. And although she obviously didn't like making him worry – especially since she knew how much that stung after having to worry about him way too often recently - she still couldn't deny that she always appreciated getting to feel just how much he cared about her so directly, and a warm feeling spread throughout her as her purr intensified.
Though admittedly, she could've done without the firm kiss he pressed onto her cheek after a moment. Still, she knew that it was an important expression of his care to him, and so she simply closed her eye on the kissed side and endured it for a moment before he finally pulled away.
Looking at his reddened face, she could read right off it that he wanted to say something like 'Don't ever do that again' or anything in that vein, but obviously he also knew that she was just doing her duty, and so he held his tongue.
His mouth opened a bit, presumably to say something else, however the chaotic and from this distance slightly incoherent shouting of the group that had rushed in earlier now meeting with the crew of the shuttle interrupted him, catching both of their attentions as they looked over.
As they did, Shida's eyes widened slightly once she realized what the chaotic scene she was looking at there really was. A stretcher carrying Admiral Krieger was wheeled down the shuttle's ramp, surrounded by medics and doctors working on her on all sides.
Her skin was a ghostly white, far more so than even her usual pale complexion, and fully on display as the remains of her uniform were under her in tattered, cut-open rags, leaving her almost entirely exposed except for her most private area and her right leg, which had been covered with a white sheet. Every other inch of her skin seemingly had to remain free as the medical personnel worked on it from all angles; sticking her with needles or attaching cables, tubes and electrodes to her as she was rolled along. Two blood bags were already dripping fresh life into her at that point, and by the look of things, a third one was soon to follow.
Still, the almost body-horror-esque sight of the doctors trying to preserve her life was by far not the most gruesome one the scene offered. That honor belonged to her uncovered left leg. Or at least...what was left of it...
Shida's ear twitched as her concentration on the scene was briefly interrupted by a soft voice speaking right next to her.
“Mama...” James mumbled aghast, causing Shida's eyes to widen slightly.
It was one of the few words from his native language that the feline actually knew. “Mom”. And hearing it out of James' mouth was an almost bizarre experience. James never called his mother mom or any similar term of endearment. In fact he made it a point not to.
Granted, in this case, it was unlikely that he had consciously made the choice to do it in this case, however the sheer fact that it would slip out of him like this spoke volumes of just how deeply the shock of seeing her in that state reached.
Not that Shida didn't understand, of course. Familial bonds or not, the Admiral was...well, of course they both knew that she wasn't untouchable by any measure. Far from it. She was just a person like anybody else in the end.
However, knowing that she could get hurt and actually seeing it were two very different things, apparently.
In the corner of her vision, she noticed how James suddenly began to move in the direction of the ongoing rescue, and she quickly jolted forwards to stop him, wrapping her arm around him firmly as she held him back from getting in the way of anything.
Luckily, apart from a brief push that only lasted for as long as it took him to realize that he had been stopped, he didn't resist her as she restrained him from approaching any further, and so the both of them just watched as the stretcher was rolled along and ultimately out of the dock.
“That was meant for me...” James mumbled, clearly thinking aloud as he kept staring at the door even after it had closed again.
Immediately, Shida pulled him in firmer, side-hugging him as she pressed her body up to his.
“She wouldn't have traded places with you if you tried to force her,” she assured him while pushing her face against his shoulder. She knew that the relationship of those two was rocky to say the least, however she still knew that much to be true. Whether she was the motherly type or not, if anything, the Admiral was just as stubborn as James was, especially when it came to duty.
James stood frozen for a bit, seemingly not exactly knowing what to do with his feelings in his current state. Shida could only imagine how much ethanol was still flowing through his veins at that time, mixed with a cocktail of all kinds of different hormones and endorphins. With all of this added back-and-forth stress, she couldn't blame him for struggling to hold onto a single thought at that time.
“Oh, James!” a new voice suddenly joined the fray, whipping both of their attentions around yet again as even more bodies emerged from the shuttle, having presumably stood back to make room while the rescue efforts were ongoing.
But now that the coast was clear, so to speak, two familiar large forms came lumbering down the shuttle's ramp.
Moar and Congloarch looked...rattled...to say the least. With Moar, it was understandable. She probably didn't have all too much experience of standing right next to a dying person as every thinkable thing was done to them to keep them alive, so Shida wouldn't have thought twice about it had it just been her.
However, the tonamstrosite was a...different story. His four eyes didn't scan the room or focus on different things at all. All four of them were pointed straight ahead with only very loose seeming focus on the people he was approaching as he walked.
His mouth hung slightly open, and he seemed to push his tongue out just a little bit while the fleshy muscle twitched up in place before settling down again, over and over, making it appear almost as if he was subtly retching.
James' stormy mind seemed to immediately latch onto the the possibility to focus on anything and went right along with a wave of his usual compassion as his eyes fell onto the to giants. This time, Shida didn't hold him back as he hurried in their direction.
“What in chaos' name happened?” he asked once he was just a few steps away from them, though even in his now focused and concerned state you could clearly tell from his gait that he wasn't quite all there.
“Oh James...” Moar repeated, struggling to speak as she shuddered in place where she stood, both of her clawed hands firmly hooked into her long fur as if clinging on for dear life.
Releasing a deep groan, Congloarch shook himself so heavily that a grinding sound came from some of the plates along his body.
“There was an attack,” the large reptile then said the quite obvious before shaking again. “There was...an invasion-” he kept describing before pausing abruptly, turning his head away as his tongue pushed itself up again, causing him to clearly struggle to suppress whatever urge overcame him at that moment.
Shida's ears and tail sank deeply as she watched those two. She could only imagine what could've occurred to have even Congloarch so broken up. And she could see it on James' face that his heart sank just as much, even if less outwards signs clearly showed it.
Slowly, Shida began to walk up to Moar at an even pace. As she did so, she gently nudged James in the direction of the other giant while passing him, knowing that he had the better relationship to the tonamstrosite out of the two of them.
Taking the hint without issue, James walked up to the enormous reptile and placed his hand on the highest part of the man he could reach while Shida leaned up against Moar's plushy leg comfortingly.
“It's alright,” James then said softly, patting his hand against Congloarch's armored skin gently while also leaning his face against the side of the giant's body. “You don't have to talk about it right now. You can take some time.”
The reactions of the two giants were very different, but at the same time equally appreciative of the soothing contact.
Moar leaned down as one of her hands unclenched from her fur to reach for Shida, reciprocating the gentle touch through an innate social drive. Seemingly on instinct, her hand went right for Shida's hair, seemingly seeking the contact with fur since that is what another rafulite would provide, and so the old lady simply petted through Shida's hair in gentle strokes while the feline pressed up against her.
Meanwhile, Congloarch seemed to simply relax in place as James leaned against him, making no effort to initiate any form of contact himself as his eyes slowly closed.
It even went so far that it seemed like he needed to put in a conscious effort to not lay down right then and there, which would've probably been inappropriate in the middle of a dock. In fact, all of this was probably inappropriate for this place, but sometimes what had to be done had to be done.
Still, with James being only somewhat in-commission right now, Shida eventually felt it to be her duty to coax everyone out of the dock once she felt that things had calmed down enough to move so they could continue this at a calmer, more private location, where the two giants could truly focus on processing everything that had happened.
–
A gentle humming filled the air, stirring her awake as light uncomfortably shone through her twitching lids while she struggled back and forth between a conscious and unconscious state.
Though once she finally pushed herself far enough into awareness to gain control over the motion and slowly forced her eyes fully open, even if she still had to squint heavily against the light from above, she glanced around through her blurry vision, instinctively searching for the source of the increasingly familiar sound of the hummed song.
She recognized the melody. It was the 'Ode to strange suns', a very old and very famous song that first emerged back in the early days of Earth's interstellar travel, when traversing light-years to reach another star-system was still a daunting endeavor. It was often sung by those in the primitive ships, often called 'tubes', to give them hope during their bleak journey. A melancholic song about giving up your life just to see what's out there – and one day push your people so far beyond what they had once been.
So far, they hadn't quite reached the lofty goal that the song set for humanity, since it spoke of mapping every star and finding eternity too short and infinity too small for their ambitions. According to the song, the day would come when 'no more strange suns rise'. What an idea that was...
Still, even more so than the song itself, she recognized the soft voice that was humming it, and her heart lifted at the implications of hearing it. She felt soft sheets rustling underneath her head as she slowly turned her face towards the sound, and the corners of her lips slowly lifted into a smile as her eyes, which were gently tearing from the harsh light biting into them so suddenly, fell onto the scene before her.
Nia sat slightly leaned against the headrest of her bed with her eyes closed, the room's white light gently playing over her dark yet soft features as she turned her face in the Admiral's direction while softly swaying her head to the rhythm of her humming, not moving it more than a centimeter with each tilt so her gentle dance wouldn't interfere too much with the work of James' hands. He sat behind her with both hands behind her back, gently holding her hair as he weaved it into long braids with practiced motions. There was a clear 'weakness' to Nia's movements, and the way she sat strongly indicated that she likely lacked the strength to completely hold herself up on her own.
And yet despite that, her humming was cheerful and content as she had her hair braided by her brother. She seemed...at peace.
After simply observing the scene for a few long moments, feeling like she could get lost in the sight if she wasn't careful, Admiral Krieger then tried to push herself up a bit, however the attempt was short-lived as a searing pain shot through her right shoulder as soon as she put any pressure onto that side of her body, forcing her to flop back down almost immediately. And as soon as she did, the pain quickly dissipated into a mellow numbness that was all too familiar to her.
She was on some strong painkillers, she could tell. Therefore, if it still hurt like that when she attempted to move, moving was probably a bad idea. Not that she couldn't have borne the pain if it was necessary, however the sight of her children like that told her that it very clearly wasn't. Whatever other challenges and battles the future may have had in store for them, this was a moment of peace, and she should use it for her recovery while she still could.
Meanwhile, her movement and brief hiss of pain had naturally not gone unnoticed. Once her eyes were no longer closed from the brief jolt of pain, she saw that Nia's eyes had now also opened. Her humming had stopped as the sweet girl's face lit up upon noticing that the Admiral was truly awake and had not just shifted around in her sleep.
“James!” she exclaimed, trying to move so suddenly that she accidentally pulled on her own hair that was still firmly in her brother's grasp, before he could react and adjust to her movements. Uncaring about the brief discomfort that surely caused, Nia excitedly lifted her hand to point at the Admiral, however James already had a knowing look on his face.
“I saw,” he replied, clearly far less focused on the braiding process than his demeanor would indicate from the outside. He quickly finished up the in-process braid between his fingers and fixated it with a small, golden, tube-shaped clasp before letting go of Nia's hair, thus allowing her to freely move her head around again.
Nia then looked over at her while James slowly stood up and moved to the corner of the room.
“How are you feeling, Sophia?” Nia asked in a gentle tone that did nothing to hide her happiness, her eyes gleaming slightly in the light as tears began to well up within them.
The Admiral released a long exhale as she settled into the sheets, though her eyes never left Nia's face – apart from a very brief moment of them following James to see where he was going. Nia looked slightly messy with her hair half-braided and the light-blue gown she wore all crumpled up, however just like her earlier humming, that messiness had a certain peace to it that allowed the Admiral to relax.
“Just how I look, I suspect,” she replied, the smile on her face returning. “I'm glad to see you awake again.”
“Hey, that's my line!” Nia jokingly complained with a mild chuckle that audibly got very close to shifting into a soft sob at one point.
At this point, James had returned from the corner of the room, walking up to the side of Nia's bed opposite to the one he had been sitting at previously. And with him, he had brought a large wheelchair.
Briefly, he turned his head towards his mother, the look on his face rather unreadable. For a moment, his mouth twitched, and it seemed like he wanted to say something. However ultimately, he pulled his gaze away again before anything was said.
Without complaint, Nia allowed her brother to lift her out of the bed and into the wheelchair, before he slowly pushed her over to the side of the Admiral's bed.
Almost immediately once she was within reach, Nia's hand found hers, holding it gently while James was once again on the move, this time towards a bedside-drawer that stood in between both of their beds.
Opening it, he briefly rummaged through it before pulling out an arrangement of small items, with which he then sat down next to the Admiral as well.
Leaning down, he gently reached for her face in a gesture that could've been mistaken for tenderness, had his fingers not reached to pull her lids open a bit with gentle force right before he shone a bright light directly into her eyes. Despite the uncomfortable nature of the action, Admiral Krieger didn't resist it in any way, physically or otherwise.
After he had ensured her pupils worked properly, James then gently grabbed her by her chin and moved her face around so that she looked straight 'ahead', which in this case meant right up to the ceiling while he got up a bit to loom over her.
“Aaaaaah,” he then ordered while holding a clear, plastic tongue-suppressor close to her mouth.
Following the order without hesitation, the Admiral opened her mouth widely, though she forewent the actual saying of 'aaah' in the process. Soon enough, her tongue was uncomfortably pushed down by the plastic item while she could see some light leaking out of her mouth in the corner of her vision.
After a brief moment of inspection, the pressure was already relieved and she could close her mouth again as James moved away from her, checking some of the monitors of devices that were attached to his mother in various ways.
The Admiral couldn't help but gently chuckle at the professionalism he clearly very deliberately employed as he dealt with her waking up. It was a nice act, however, she was smart enough to know that, since he didn't call anyone in to do it, he likely had asked to conduct these precautionary examinations himself instead of calling a doctor in for it, likely promising to call in someone more professional than himself should he find anything actually worrying.
But, based on his reactions, it seemed like everything was in working order. At least the vitals she could see on the monitors herself certainly were. Not exactly 'healthy', of course, but also not directly concerning for someone who had just gone through the wringer like she had.
Or, well...she didn't quite know how 'just' it had been. She was admittedly a bit too groggy to fully remember the exact date and time during which the attack leaving her injured had taken place, which meant even the clock on the wall was of very little help with determining just how long she had been out for.
“Do you feel anything strange?” James asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Any pain? Nausea? Discomfort?”
Krieger shook her head.
“Nothing, apart from being high as a kite,” she replied before briefly glancing down at herself. Her body was almost completely covered by a white sheet, so she couldn't exactly see anything. However, she knew what was underneath. “Though I'm sure my leg would be in a lot of pain if I could actually feel it.”
In the corner of her vision, she both saw and felt Nia flinch as she was still holding her hand, her face darkening a little.
James' expression also seemed to turn more serious after her jokingly said words, betraying his usually not horrible pokerface.
Slowly, she released a long breath.
“It's gone, isn't it?” she suspected immediately. Not surprising after the state her leg had been in when she last saw it.
Nia's face just turned even more glum at that, however James sighed and nodded.
“Most of it, yes,” he replied honestly, knowing her well enough to cut any sort of bullshit. “Though you will be glad to hear that your usual 'precautions' worked without a hitch. Your body accepted the prosthesis and you should be able to walk again almost immediately.”
She smiled.
“I always told you, it pays to be prepared,” she said, lifting her unoccupied arm with a finger playfully raised in lecture. Though then, she moved her gaze over to Nia, reaching her already raised arm over to Nia's head and pulling her in a bit closer before gently caressing her cheek. “Come on, why the frown?” she asked, giving a gentle smile. “You heard what he said, I'll be good as new.”
A returning smile fought itself through Nia's tears at the caress, and she nodded meekly – before then suddenly throwing herself forwards, out of the wheelchair and onto the Admiral in a brazen embrace.
A sharp pain once again shot through the Admiral's shoulder as another body suddenly pressed down onto hers, however this time she did not care a single bit as she moved her arms around her daughter and gently petted along her back while Nia clearly did her absolute best to suppress the quiet sobs leaving her. Meanwhile James stood next to it all with a stoic expression, only his eyes betraying the obvious compassion he felt for his sister's happiness.
Once the embrace was enjoyed and a few soft words were exchanged, he aided Nia in getting back into the wheelchair wordlessly.
And the Admiral didn't need him to say anything. The mere fact that he had decided to be here told her more than enough – even if he would likely say that he was here to visit Nia when he would be asked about it.
A few moments later, the door to the room opened, with two new people entering in a visible hurry. Though, despite their haste, both Tuya and Shida froze when they fully processed the scene they had barged into, with neither of them seemingly knowing if they wanted to proceed or not.
Taking the decision off them, the Admiral lifted her hand and waved them closer.
“Come in,” she said invitingly, not at all opposed to their presence here. Not for nothing, she was more than happy with the partners that her children had found for themselves. She could hardly have wished for better ones.
Still seeming a bit hesitant, the First-Lieutenant and Lieutenant-Commander then continued their motion, even if much slower now.
James and Nia both had pretty unreadable expressions on their faces at this point as they watched their respective partners approach. They all exchanged a long gaze with each other, which clearly told her children something that she wasn't quite privy to yet.
James was finally the one to break the silence.
“What brilliant timing,” he sighed a bit as he turned around, quickly grabbing a remote from a nearby nightstand. With it, he turned up the volume of a running but up until now muted screen that the Admiral had only been tangentially aware of so far.
Though now that everyone's attention seemed to be pulled towards it, she didn't need to be a genius to realize that something important was being broadcast there. And so she got quiet and listened, her professional seriousness returning as he fought through her slightly hazy state to not miss a detail, especially so as she saw just who the cameras were pointed towards.
Leaving her enormous head to hang slightly, Apojinorana Audoxya Tua, High-Matriarch of the zodiatos and current Acting-Leader-Supreme of the G.C.S. had taken the stage behind what had to be a house-sized podium, even if it didn't appear like it on screen.
The Admiral suppressed any feelings she had towards that vile woman as she concentrated on listening to her words.
They had seemingly missed the beginning of the conference they were not tuning into, so hopefully they hadn't missed anything important.
“...firm the attack. One of the current Nahfmir-Durrehefren, previously known as Melvolhorron, used his command over several of our ships and the loyalty of crews that had been radicalized by the ongoing galactic tensions -both zodiatos and coluyvoree- to mount the attack. No outside influence on his actions from any third-party outside of the zodiatos territories has been indicated during the investigations. The black box that was discovered by the human forces and handed over to galactic investigations in full accordance to communal law and without any resistance brought some additional light to his motivations. Among the usual logs and data you would expect to find, it also contained a seemingly deliberately saved...letter of devotion to...none other than my own person. It seems that this...tragic event turned heinous crime was something that he saw as his best chance to advance his position to that of the true Durrehefren. He seemed to believe that my devotion and favor could be gained through a decisive strike against the humans, whom he believed I hated deeply – along with all other deathworlders, it appears. It also appears that he believed this hate would go far enough that I would approve of any methods to achieve this strike against them – even an attack on not only another coreworld, but one of our oldest and most loyal allies. It's-” she cut of briefly, releasing a distressed trumpeting sound before reaching her trunk up to run its ends over her many dark eyes. “It is, of course, hard for me. Not only to have such a crime committed ostensibly in my name, but also that this seems to be an image that I have imprinted onto my people. An image of hate and discord that has radicalized them to the point that they would stoop to such levels simply to see the 'opposition' suffer. And while it is no secret that the humans have been at odds with me, I would never approve of such a heinous attack, not only because...friends of mine...were lost in it, too. And I am not free of blame. I see now that I was so focused on sternly defending us from the accusations posed against us, that I entirely forgot to also show the compassion that is so necessary at a time like this. And I want to apologize for this. Deeply. Even as the attack was committed by a blinded individual, the zodiatos will take full responsibility for it. We are willing to pay any required reparations to each of the injured parties involved, and we deeply wish that our ties we have to those harmed can be mended, be they old or new, strong or tattered. We will gladly welcome any diplomatic outreach from the injured parties as well as all others who are concerned in hopes to not only aid in the recovery of our alliances, but also in the healing of our very own souls as we will take any effort we can to move away from the hate that has caused this tragedy. Our people will not become one of violence and terror, that I swear by all three of my names. And I hope that all others follow that example, so that this tragic event may become a part of our history that will never be repeated. Now more than ever, we need to remind ourselves of the values that this galaxy was built upon. I thank each and every one of you for your attention. Success to you. Prosperity for all. Unity in the community.”
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2024.05.29 00:05 _Revelator_ Clarkson's Columns: Cheap food — but at what cost? & PM Keir will be too busy to be radical

British farms can grow cheap food — but at what cost?
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 26)
Quite rightly there’s been a lot of brouhaha and gnashing of teeth about the Welsh government’s weed-friendly farming policy. But the problem isn’t confined to Wales. Almost every government in the civilised world seems determined to ethnically cleanse farmers from the countryside. And it’s hard to see why.
Oh sure, they all say that farming makes a lot of carbon dioxides and that they have net zero targets to meet, but obviously that’s not the reason. Because what’s the point of keeping the global temperature down if there’s nothing to eat?
So if climate change isn’t the driver, why, all across Europe and America and Australia, is life being made so wilfully and unnecessarily hard for the people who feed us? And why in England did the number of farms fall from 132,400 in 2005 to just 104,000 in 2015? Well, bear with me on this one, but it’s necessary at this point to talk about my recent weekend city break in Copenhagen.
I’ve always said that if I were forced for some reason to leave the UK and I needed to live and work somewhere else, I’d go to Copenhagen. You eat dinner at a sensible time, not four in the morning, you’re never distracted by the beach, and you can have conversations with a van driver about how the krone is controlled by the European Central Bank. I know because I did. Here I spend most of my van-based conversations trying to explain what “fragile” means.
Everywhere you go in Copenhagen there are attractive people having lunch in attractive restaurants before going back to the office to design some more attractive chairs. They put their solar farms between the motorway and the railway line, and all around the canals and docks there are no unsightly railings. If you fall in, you just get out again. And if you can’t swim, well, that’s your own silly fault.
And then there’s the business of getting about, which is done on a bicycle. Unlike here, though, no one wears a helmet or that idiotic Stasi stormtrooper combination of black tights and black shorts. Cycling is not some BLT+, pro-Hamas, kick-out-the-Tories political movement. It’s just something you do to get about, because even the crappiest little car is about a million pounds. And there are no hills.
I love pootling about on a bicycle there, stopping for a cup of coffee and a pastry, or to look in a little shop that sells nothing but lampshades made from thinly sliced ash. If Carlsberg did cities, they’d look like this.
But even here, amid all the loveliness, we find the awful Lawrence Stroll plague of Tommy Hilfiger, Prada, Chanel, Bulgari, Gucci and all those other multinational emporiums for the terminally dreadful, which now dominate every city centre, high-end Caribbean resort and airport terminal in the world. Terry Wogan once said he’d like to machinegun everyone on Henman Hill. I feel the same way when I’m presented with a branch of Boss.
I’m told that these fashion, luggage and sunglasses shops are everywhere because they are the only ones that can afford city centre rents and I’m sure that’s true. So that’s good for the city, the landlords and stupid people in white trousers who think it’s OK to spend £850 on a pair of shoes because it says Prada on the instep.
It’s not what we want, of course. We want interesting shops full of interesting things and interesting people, and we think it’s silly to spend £850 on a pair of shoes. But lots of little shops all selling different things? That’s too difficult to organise. It’s much easier to call some twat on a yacht and ask him to send over a light dusting of Hilfiger and a spot of Saint Laurent.
Which brings me back to farming. I’m sitting here now on top of a hill in the Cotswolds and I can see four other farms, all run by farmers who do things their own way. There’s a chap not too far away who produces eggs in mobile hen houses. There’s a lady who’s passionate about organic produce. Then there’s my neighbour who seems to be persevering with oil-seed rape, and down in the valley there’s a brother and sister rearing pigs. It’s all small and higgledy-piggledy and charming. And it’s comforting to know that 90 per cent of Britain’s remaining farms are family owned. But if you stand back and look at the land as a business, you’d have to say, “Er, hang on a minute. This makes no sense at all.”
So I find myself wondering. Is this really what’s going on behind the scenes? Has the agricultural equivalent of Lawrence Stroll had a quiet word with the government: “Look, if you can get these pesky family farmers to sod off, I’ll buy the countryside, put in a bit of rewilding to keep the nutters happy and then use economies of scale to make all the food we need at a nice price.”
Think about it. My tractor is currently sitting in the yard because there’s nothing for it to do. But if I owned all the land from the south coast to the Wash it’d be working 24/7. Tomorrow I could send it to Hertfordshire to uproot hedges and pull down copses to make bigger, more economically viable fields, and the day after it would be in Dorset sprinkling some nitrogen on the barley.
It would all be a model of just-in-time efficiency and hydroponic tomatoes, and soon all of Europe’s farmland would be in the hands of four or five multinationals who could use freebies and dodgy handshakes to get government ministers to pass whatever legislation the shareholders wanted.
Under the present system farmers can’t really get governments to do anything as there are too many of us and we all have different needs. It’d be like asking a classroom of kids what they want for Christmas and expecting them all to say the same thing. There’s always going to be one that wants peace and love and another who wants a subscription to Pornhub. And a Ferrari.
If the multinationals move in that would all be solved. Plus, it would be good for the global economy, good for investors and food prices will probably fall. And to make it all even more palatable fields will be full of signs saying “Monsanto Inc. Growing sustainably for hard-working families in the community”. I think for certain the world’s governments have this utopian vision in their heads. Which is why their policies are so skewed against farmers and the present system. They’d much rather have five guys who speak their language and have pit passes at the Monaco Grand Prix every year than five thousand who come into town once a blue moon to spray government buildings with their disgusting manure.
You may think they have a point. You may like the idea of cheaper food, but do you want to wave goodbye to the hedgerows and the copses? And do you want the British countryside to be owned and run by a private equity outfit in Chicago? Or let me put it to you another way: do you want a hydroponic Tommy Hilfiger tomato? Because I don’t.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Forget Eton, Keir will be too busy with racist chairs
With the loudest voices in Labour yelling about slavery, microbes and gender, Sir Starmer won’t have the chance to be radical
By Jeremy Clarkson (The Sunday Times, May 26)
The Conservative Party’s biggest problem is that it’s no longer the Conservative Party. And that’s because it’s been listening and taking inspiration from people who are talking, not those who aren’t. And I have some evidence to suggest that this doesn’t really work.
Many years ago, when Top Gear was a swashbuckling festival of tyre smoke and innuendo that came into your living room every Sunday evening like a drunken uncle, I just sort of did what felt right every week. But then I started consulting a small but very keen fan site in America to see what they were saying. And what they were mostly saying is that they wanted more cars and less cocking about.
This meant, when it was time to start preparing the following week’s show, their views would be front and centre in my head. My gut would tell me to do one thing, but these faceless uberfans would be telling me to do something else. And I found myself more and more doing that.
It was ridiculous. We were making a show for a weekly audience of 350 million people, but I was shaping it to keep maybe 25 American car nuts happy. I dreaded their displeasure on a Sunday night, and I’d do anything to avoid it. And that brings me back to the Conservative Party.
I can’t remember how many MPs they’ve got left now and there’s no point looking it up because by the time you read this, another one will have crossed the floor or been tied up by “bad people” or divulged secret information to keep blackmailers happy or said something Islamophobic or taken drugs or invited someone to “go back to Bahrain”. The list is endless, but whatever the number is, I’m willing to bet that every single one of them signed up because they wanted to be a tub-thumping Thatcherite iron person.
But you can’t be Mrs Thatcher now because then you’d be labelled “far right”. And that’s the same as being Hitler. Better, if you want a quiet life, to be a mouse. A Liberal Democrat. A cyclist. With one eye on hard-working families in the community and the other on River to the Sea sustainable diversity. So that’s what the Conservative MPs did. They listened to the people who were speaking and never thought to think about the views of those who weren’t. And now they are screwed. Bud Lite busted. Done. Rishi’s kids are probably already down for schools in America.
This means that in a few weeks, we will have a Labour government and many of my Tory friends find this a bit scary. They worry about the future of private education and things like a wealth tax and how well we’ll fare on the world stage when most of the people in government actively hate Britain.
I’m not worried though, because while Sir Starmer has made all sorts of left-wing noises over the years, he’s not going to be able to do anything profound because he’s going to be surrounded by the people who’ve been doing all the talking these last few years. And what they’re going to be talking to him about, most of all, is penises.
Penises will be our saviour. He may be sitting there thinking about how he can alter capital gains tax or abolish Eton, but it’s going to be hard to put any of his plans into action — because every five minutes, someone’s going to run in and say they’ve seen a willy in the ladies’. And he’s going to have to break off to deal with that.
And while he’s in the ladies’, asking Big John if he wouldn’t mind maybe using the gents’ in future, someone else is going to call him and say that there’s been some misgendering in the gatehouse which means he’ll have to miss his five o’clock about sustainable development in the birthing people space.
The next day, he’s going to really want to get a grip on the non-dom issue, but at 7am he’ll get an email from someone who’s “reaching out” to say that the antique chairs used in the Cabinet Office were probably made by slaves and that to display solidarity with Palestine, the chairs should come from Gaza. This will have to be discussed in a meeting where it’ll turn out that all the chairs in Gaza are broken, which will cause the whole room to descend into a frenzied and frothing attack on Israel. The non-doms, as a result, will be able to breathe easy.
And then it’ll be lunch and Sir Keir, being a vegetablist, will order a salad. But just as he’s about to savour that first mouthful, someone with sustainable armpit hair — but possibly no penis — will lean over and ask if he understands how many beetles and microbes had to be killed before that salad could be grown. So then there will be a debate about what food can be eaten by hard-working members of the cabinet’s vegetarian community and it’ll be decided that it’d be best if, in future, everyone got their sustenance from licking the pot plants.
Foreign leaders will be calling him but he’ll be prevented from taking the calls because one of the components in his phone was made in Tel Aviv; nor will he be able to talk to the Treasury about a mansion tax because this would involve maths, and maths — as we’ve learnt — is racist.
Meanwhile, outside the corridors of power, the doctors will continue to go to work, the nurses will still get paid, the garden centres will continue to be open, the supermarkets will continue to sell food and car showrooms will still be able to provide you with a new set of wheels. It’ll all be normal.
Because the penis people who’ve been talking and talking and talking these last few years will still be talking and talking and talking. Only now they won’t be outside the building. They’ll be inside — which means, mercifully, we won’t be able to hear them as they busy themselves with the endless task of achieving absolutely nothing at all.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
And here's an excerpt from the Sun column:
Three years ago, when my farm was being battered over the head by planners at West Oxfordshire District Council, I became so desperate that I went to London to see the minister in charge of this sort of thing: Michael Gove.
I explained the problem. Farmers were being told by central government to diversify if they wanted to stay in business. But if they tried, they were stopped by the planners in local government.
Gove pulled all the right faces and made all the right noises and I left knowing full well nothing would come of it.
But blow me down with a feather, it did. And this week farmers were told they could turn their disused barns into gyms or workshops or even houses without the need for planning permission.
That’s great news for everyone in the business. Except me. Because to help win the battle to keep my farm shop, I gave up the rights to convert my barn.
I think that’s called taking one for the team.
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Clarkson's columns are regularly collected as books. You can buy them from his boss or your local bookshop.
P.S. Apologies for the delay in posting this week's columns. I was traveling on Monday (Memorial Day, a holiday in the US).
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2024.05.28 23:56 KyleKKent OOCS, Into A Wider Galaxy, Part 016

~First~
Harriett The Spy AND HHH/Herbert’s Hundred Harem
They were comparing their stories about the weirder infiltration missions they’d gone on since they last spoke when there’s a knock on the door and it’s quickly opened before either can say anything.
“Sir? Ma’am? Update to the latest mess.” The Angla man says leaning in and holding out a folder. Harriett’s longer reach has her grab it.
“Good man, back to it soldier.” Herbert says as he hops off his chair. By the time the door is closed again he’s at Harriett’s side and standing on his tiptoes to read it over her elbow.
“Well... shit.” Harriett says as she sees the image of a gigantic slohb core with something clearly embedded in and infecting it. She reaches over to the flask and upends it to reveal the slightly larger than a pea piece of blood metal. A moment of compare and she curses again.
“Exactly what I was thinking. Where did she find it? Was it embedded deliberately? Some kind of experiment?” Herbert notes
“Hang on, let me turn the page.” Harriett tells him. “She found it and is reaching out to us because The Undaunted are one of the only powers she knows for a fact cannot be involved.”
“Alright, you just take a break. You got out of an infiltration like ten minutes ago. Have a snack. Relax, I need to prep a response to this.” Herbert says as he heads for the door. She follows.
“I’m no wilting flower. I know that Spire, have some infiltration experience there and friends as well. I can get you through the gang territories on the way down so we can help this poor woman.” Harriett says and Herbert nods.
“Alright then, you’re heading the mission. I’m going to scrape up all the support you need. So, what do you need?” Herbert asks.
“Several Doctors, at least one specializing in Xenobioology with at bare minimum a professional understanding of Slohb physiology. Several troopers that don’t mind cleaning and then standing guard. A transmutation Adept to re-purpose local materials for a sterile operating room to get that thing out of there and with sufficient skill to produce Null on demand finally a lack of interference from Centris authorities.” Harriett lists out and Herbert nods.
“Done, get started on your plan of movement. I’ll get it all ready.” Herbert promises her as they powerwalk through Intelligence and then Herbert dashes away as he calls to to people and barks orders. For the briefest of moments Harriett mentally compares him to a chihuahua but then realizes it falls short as this chihuahua can and will tear chunks out of things many many thousands of times it’s size. There’s a lot of bark yes, but the bite is exponentially worse.
She shakes herself out of the half second long reverie and gets moving again. She needs to draw up plans, review her notes for the area and plan a route all the way to the bottom of a spire, all the way down through nine levels where the gangs in power WILL be stopping the elevators to at least check the occupants and more than a few of them are stupid enough to stick a gun into the face of a soldier.
She normally doesn’t bother with the stupidity and madness of a bottom ten. Generally people that try hiding down there end up being shanked in the back alley by a bouncer after they tried to run out on the bill of whatever oiled up man-thong lounge they had spent half a fucking day in and racking up a bill large enough that Ticanped’s feathers would stand on end.
She had tracked a fucker down there five times in varying different disguises to find that exact scenario had played out. And that’s IF they survived long enough to get to the dickie bar. There was a different way of going around down there. Every square inch was basically gang territory by default, if you walk around like your shit doesn’t stink then you’re going to get it pushed in in the worst possible way.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
There is a silence that stretches through the last conversation. Learning that the games she had played had been loosely based on actual wars had disquieted All Lady a little.
“Look the Wolfenstein games were massive exaggerations from the word go. You know how it is. Get enough time between a tragedy and someone looking to tell a story and you’re soon going to find something like a bunch of psychopaths who can’t fall asleep unless it’s to the screams of the innocent or some mad scientist with an obsession for switching body parts around.” Jurgen says and All Lady lets out a huff of air. “By the way how hard is that to learn?”
“How hard is what?” She asks.
“Well, that sigh. The air came out of your mouth... but you have no throat, no lungs. The part I’m addressing may as well be the tip of your finger or something. How long did it take to learn to mimic air respiration and air movement to that extent?”
“Oh that?” All Lady asks before laughing a little. “Simple enough when you know how to talk, and I was budded off my father knowing how to make those noises. Not what they meant, but that’s what’s childhood’s for.”
“I see, so... all Slohbs are born knowing how to manipulate their bodies, but now why they would want to?”
“Well, we’re born knowing how to keep ourselves alive and move, and smart enough to learn. However finer control is something that comes later. A newly budded little Slohb is adorable but can only make very vague shapes. Very rounded ones too. But there are grand masters of the art, shifters so skilled they can alter their colour and put in so much detail that you have to touch them to tell they’re a slohb, and of course there are even rarer girls who can change their external texture. You need high end scanners to tell they’re not what they say they are.” All Lady says before looking around at the cavern of blue slime that is her being. “Old dreams. Dead on the alter of reality.”
“Says who?” Jurgen asks.
“Common sense?”
“Well, good thing it’s not all that common now isn’t it?” He asks in return and she looks at him oddly. “After all, it’s common sense that a human over nine feet tall is suffering from terrible glandular disorders and lives a miserable life.”
She smirks after a bit.
“Oh do you now? Oh poor baby!” She teases him.
“Oh yes, poor poor oversized me! After all, one can only be larger than six feet tall if they’re sick in some way.” He says and she laughs a touch.
“Jurgen, let her know we’ve already put together a team to come help her. She’ll need to unblock the entrances if we’re going to help.” His Handler says and he pauses and thinks.
“Is something wrong?” All Lady asks.
“Well, you wanted to know if the Undaunted reputation is deserved right?” He asks and she nods. “Well they’ve already put together a team and they’re on their way. They request that you unblock the way in.”
“What kind of team?” She asks.
“Buddy, what kind of team?” Jurgen asks his handler.
“Three doctors, five troopers, two with medical training an Adept and an Agent.”
“Copy that. Miss All Lady we have three doctors, five troopers with two of them medics, an Adept and an Agent inbound.”
“An Agent?”
“Highly skilled, highly informed and often deployed in the field. Our Agents are stealth operatives mostly. If one’s deployed, then they’re likely trying to get the team to you with as little fuss as possible. So nothing wrong happens.”
“And they’re coming now? But I haven’t actually asked for any help!” She protests and he shrugs.
“You clearly need it. Not to mention I heard my handler curse under his breath when we saw whatever it is that’s in your core. No doubt it’s something concerning.”
“What was the first hint? That it embedded itself into me despite my merely examining it or that it’s caused me to bud thousands of times without ever successfully splitting?”
“Wait, that thing embedded itself into you?”
“I... I said too much.”
“Ma’am whatever that thing is, it has my handler so worried he’s not volunteering the information at the first opportunity. Normally getting him to shut up is the trick, right now though? Dead silence.”
“We can’t risk this information being intercepted.” His Handler states.
“And now he says it’s so dangerous he won’t risk it being intercepted. So whatever happened to you is understood well enough by my people that we’re basically scared of it and scrambling to do something about it right away. The more we know, the better we can help you.” Jurgen says and she stares at him before everything quivers.
“It... it was seven years ago.” She says. “I was just exploring the bottom ten. Being... well... being who I was then. I was basically slinging myself around along the ceiling. I can move in ways you solids can’t. Stretch out, grab some thing or suction up against it. Really easy, fast and fun. Then I bumped into something, something hidden. It seemed so harmless at first. A little dead drop place, whatever, take a look into it. If it’s bad report it to someone, but leave it alone otherwise.”
“It didn’t work like that though, did it?” Jurgen asks.
“No... it was... strange. It looked like a circuit board but made of the strange metal. A bit of my gel ended up on one of the circuits as I was putting it back and... it wouldn’t let go. Then it pulled and before I could sever that bit... it was in me and I fell. The impact knocked me out cold and I don’t know. It may have killed me. I woke up with two extra bumps, one of them badly damaged and with the metal inside.”
“... Do you think that...”
“That I might not be me?” She asks. “Sometimes. It was I...”
The gel starts to shift before moving in a smooth flow. “I am in control. I am the master of my fate. I am all. All is me. I am the lady that is all.”
“The All Lady.” Jurgen finishes for her and she nods.
“Yes. I... even now I am budding far too fast, and the bud is not going to break away. This is unnatural, wrong and vile. It needs to stop.” She says.
“Tell her help is on the way. They’re at level fifty and closing fast.”
“Help is coming, level fifty and closing the distance.” Jurgen promises.
“Okay, okay... this is faster than I expected. Or wanted, but it needs to happen it... what is this going to cost me?” She asks.
“Just uncover the entrances. I highly doubt anyone will want anything more. You’ve been through enough.” Jurgen says and after a moment he can hear things in the distance.
“Your teammates are reporting that the path out is clear now.” His Handler says.
“Alright then. Ready to go out and meet the doctors?” Jurgen asks reaching out his hand and after a short while a gel hand finds it’s way to his.
•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•×•
The elevator stops prematurely and is forced open from the other side.
“Well hello there now what are you little fish...” A snict woman begins to monologue as she forces the elevator door open and stops as she finds herself staring down a dozen high powered weapons. Harriett reaches a hand out and pushes her back and out of the way of the door before pressing the closed door button.
“We’re about to get another of those aren’t we ma’am?”
“Every fucking level down. The bottom ten of Xiona are a textbook no-man’s land and the reason for level one being off limits is who we’re out to help.”
“This job sometimes...” One of the Doctors notes.
“The hell did you expect?”
“Not an emergency surgery of an alien blob monster in the middle of gang territory.” The Doctor replies.
“Well jokes on you, you came from Earth to keep soldiers alive and study aliens. Well here’s an exotic alien metal, poisoning an alien woman. Let’s work with it.” Harriett states.
“I understand, I just don’t like it.” The Doctor replies.
“Why the hell were you placed on this team?”
“Because Doctor Gin here has point blank pulled of borderline miracles in the past. He just likes to complain.” Another Doctor says and Gin turns to give him the stink eye.
“Of course I’m complaining! Do you have any idea what can go wrong? I do! It’s horrifying! Not only is this a Slohb, a species with one of the most dense physical forms there are once you move past the falseness that is the gel they control. But not only that, this is a Slohb that has been poisoned by the item we’re extracting and may have created chemical or Axiom imbalances in her system that could kill her when the substance is removed! Going cold turkey on anything hurts for a reason people! To say nothing of the fact that the surgery chamber is going to be improvised and in the middle of potentially hostile territory and the patient is enormous to such a degree that she is potentially the biggest member of her species to ever exist! And in addition we are...”
“We get it.”
“Oh no, this last point is the most important. Because we are going to be operating under the effects of Null. Which while harmless to the vast, vast majority of this group, will still have effects on you Agent and on the Titan that the patient is bonding with. And that’s not even touching on the fact that Slohbs, which I remind you, is the species of the patient. That Slohbs have one of the fastest kill times in Null at three and a half minutes at absolute maximum! Meaning we have two hundred and ten seconds AT MOST to save this poor woman’s life without taking it ourselves! More likely we will only have a hundred and twenty to keep her in the safe zone, TWO MINUTES TO OPERATE!” He rants before huffing a bit and then slicking his hair back again. “So as you can imagine, I’m a little stressed.”
“Backing out?”
“Of course not. I don’t trust anyone else to do this right the first time. I’m just making sure you’re aware that no matter how easy I make this look that it is in fact, very very hard.” Doctor Gin says as he squares his shoulders and steels his expression. He along with everyone else then pull out their weapons as the elevator is stopped early again and this time there’s not even a monologue as the Horchka gang that opened the door simply raise their eyebrows, and then one reaches in to press the door closed button to send them on their way.
~First~ Last
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2024.05.28 23:14 FWhitman Possible oral cancer. Photos

M36. 6ft tall 220lbs
Photos
Heyooo
Firstly, I have a doc appointment. I just want to see what the opinions are prior so I can speak educatedly.
Former smoker for 17 years. Worried chickens are coming home to roost.
Lungs have been scanned recently because I coughed up blood 3 months ago. Singular incident. Clean lung scan.
Had a dry throat, headaches and a bad cough recently. Coughed up a bit more blood. Now considering that it may be oral or throat cancer rather than lung.
I have bumps on inside of both cheeks. Shown in individual images.
My tongue has a cut looking split that does not hurt
I think I may see white in the back of my throat.
I may also just have a bug and/or slept through an extra dry night and coughed some blood in the morning.
Hard to say, so I’m going to a doc and I wanted to toss it out to the crowd too.
Pics in link above.
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2024.05.28 22:47 mohamedwafa Chapter 1 of my first ever novel

Chapter 1
Scene 1
Sunlight streamed through the windows of my modern apartment as I meticulously folded clothes and packed my bags, the anticipation of an upcoming trip tingling in the air. The day seemed ordinary enough until the doorbell shattered the tranquility.

Startled, I hurried to answer it, only to find Elena bursting into the house with her usual exuberance. She was a whirlwind of energy, her long chestnut hair tied back in a messy ponytail, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement. Her olive skin glowed with vitality, and her infectious smile lit up the room.

"Peter, what took you so long to answer?" she exclaimed, her voice carrying a mix of impatience and amusement as she took in the array of luggage before me.

I shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Just packing for a trip."

Elena scoffed, her voice laced with sarcasm. "Immigrating, are we?" She scanned the room before turning her attention back to me. "Seriously, though, what's with all the luggage?"

I chuckled at her bluntness. "You know me, always overpacking."

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her phone and cranking up the volume on her favorite song. The heavy riff of "Passenger" by Deftones filled the room, adding a pulsating rhythm to our conversation.

Taking a seat at the cluttered kitchen table, Elena flashed me a mischievous grin. "I came to hang out with my friend. Is that a crime?"

I raised an eyebrow, eyeing her suspiciously.

Elena's laughter filled the room, unapologetic. "Okay, you caught me. I need your help." Despite my curiosity, apprehension flickered, yet her sparkling eyes drew me in. "Come on, Peter," she urged. "I promise it'll be worth your while."

"What do you need me for?" I asked, unable to resist her infectious enthusiasm.

Elena's brows furrowed, and she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I was hired by a family in Silverlake to find their missing daughter, Emily. She disappeared without a trace, and I've been investigating this case for weeks. But I have zero leads."

I frowned. "And you think I can help?"

Elena nodded eagerly. "You're one of the best investigative journalists I know, Peter. Your skills are exactly what we need to crack this case wide open."

"I promised my mom I'd spend a vacation with her. I leave in 2 days. I'm sorry, I cannot help you," I said firmly, my resolve wavering in the face of Elena's determination.

"In 2 DAYS AND YOU'RE PACKING FROM NOW?!" Elena exclaimed incredulously.

"Well, I've got to be well prepared," I defended with a shrug, trying to downplay the urgency of the situation.

"This will be over in less than 2 days. All I need from you is to help me identify her last known location when she disappeared and any digital data you could find linked to her disappearance. Do that for me, and you can continue with your plan," Elena bargained, her eyes pleading with urgency.

I hesitated, torn between my obligations to my family and the pressing need to help Elena solve this mystery.

"Well, you could get that from CCTV cameras and her social media, what do you need me for?" I asked, raising my voice slightly to be heard over the blaring chorus of "Passenger."

The heavy guitars and pounding drums filled the room, drowning out Elena's next words as she searched my face for a response. "Well, don't you think I tried that?" she retorted, frustration evident in her voice. "I couldn't get access to CCTV footage, and her social media revealed nothing. I need a deeper search into the digital landscape, and you're the one I trust the most with this."

"One thing is never enough for you, though. You have a way of always pulling me with you, and I really need this. My mother needs me right now. I haven't seen her since the funeral, and I cannot let her down," I said, my voice cracking with emotion.

Elena's expression softened, her eyes reflecting understanding. She reached out and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I get it, Peter. Family comes first. But think about it, helping me could bring closure to another family who's desperate for answers."

Her words struck a chord within me, igniting a sense of duty and purpose that I couldn't ignore.

Taking a deep breath, I nodded slowly.

I grabbed a notebook and a pen, my determination solidifying as I focused on the task at hand. "I'll do it for the girl's family."

A flicker of relief crossed Elena's face, her shoulders sagging slightly as she realized I was onboard. "Thank you, Peter," she said, her voice tinged with gratitude.

"The town of Silverlake, where Emily had disappeared, was 140 miles away. It was a daunting distance, but one that felt insignificant in the face of the urgency of the situation. Little did I know, Emily wasn't the only one missing. There was a series of disappearances in Silverlake that had gone unnoticed until now."

With a shared glance, Elena and I made an unspoken agreement. We would go to Silverlake, together, to start investigating immediately.

Scene 2
As Elena and I approached the reception desk, the polished tiles of the lobby floor echoed softly beneath our steps, carrying an air of anticipation. The lobby itself exuded a quiet elegance, bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sunlight streaming through the expansive windows. A gentle hum of activity filled the space, punctuated by the occasional rustle of papers.

The receptionist, a woman with an air of indifference, glanced up from her notebook as we approached. Her eyes, cool and assessing, swept over us before settling on Elena with a hint of curiosity. "How can I help you, dear?" she asked, her voice monotone yet tinged with a subtle edge of detachment.

Elena, undeterred by the receptionist's demeanor, greeted her with a warm smile that illuminated her features. "We're in need of a room for my friend here," she said, gesturing towards me with a nod of her head. "He'll be staying with us."

The receptionist's expression remained unchanged as she reached for another key, her movements precise and methodical. Retrieving the key, she handed it to me with a detached air. "Room 204, second floor, fourth room on the right," she repeated mechanically, her attention already drifting back to her notebook as if our presence was of little consequence.

As I accepted the key, my gaze was drawn to a striking symbol adorning the wall beside the reception desk – the Eye of Horus. Etched in gold against a backdrop of deep blue, its intricate design seemed to watch over the lobby with an enigmatic presence, casting a subtle aura of mystery over the space.

"it's all over the place in here they believe it protects them from evil" Elena shrugged, noticing my gaze lingering on the Eye of Horus.

I nodded thoughtfully, intrigued by the symbolism woven into the fabric of the hotel. "Interesting," I murmured.

With the key in hand, I turned to follow Elena as she led the way towards the staircase, the soft echo of our footsteps mingling with the hushed whispers of the hotel's guests. As we ascended the stairs.

As Elena entered the room, she immediately shed her coat and rushed to the counter, grabbing her phone. Without pause, the familiar strains of Metallica's "Master of Puppets" filled the room, blasting at an ear-splitting volume.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Elena's predictable ritual.

"Okay, Mr. P, we have no time to waste," Elena declared over the blaring music, oblivious to my annoyance. "Grab your notebook and let's start with the case."

"Emily's disappearance was the initial focus of my investigation," Elena began, her eyes reflecting the seriousness of the matter. "According to her family, Emily was extremely close to her mother. Her life seemed to be on track, with a successful career in marketing and a new boyfriend. However, her parents didn't approve of her relationship with Matthew, citing him as a point of contention."

She paused, her gaze drifting as if searching for the right words to convey the complexity of the situation. "The police initially dismissed Emily's disappearance as a case of a young woman running away, especially since Matthew was also missing."

Elena's voice wavered slightly, betraying the weight of the uncertainty surrounding Emily's fate. "For a while, I entertained the possibility that Emily had indeed chosen to leave her life behind. But then, three days ago, another woman disappeared under similar circumstances."
"And where is Matthew?" I interjected, my mind grappling with the complexities of the case. "His friends and family filed a missing persons report on him as well. He disappeared one day before Emily. But there's no reason to think of him as a suspect, is there?"

Elena's expression darkened, mirroring the shadow of uncertainty that clouded my thoughts. "That's the perplexing part," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "All three people disappeared without a trace. One moment they were there, and the next... poof, disappeared as if they've been captured by ghosts."

Her words sent a chill down my spine, and I couldn't shake off the sense of foreboding that gripped me. It was as if we were peering into the abyss of the unknown, where answers remained elusive and danger lurked in the shadows.

As my mind raced, struggling to contain the torrent of thoughts swirling within, I sought desperately for patterns amidst the chaos. With furrowed brow, I turned to Elena, my voice trembling with urgency.

"Is there any connection between the third woman who disappeared and Emily or Matthew?" I inquired, grasping at straws in the hopes of unraveling the enigma before us.

Elena shook her head solemnly, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. "No," she replied, her voice tinged with frustration. "The third woman is a 50-year-old, last seen exiting her workplace at the quaint bistro, La Petite Cuisine, and heading home."

The revelation sent a shiver down my spine, the realization sinking in that the disappearances were not isolated incidents but part of a larger, more sinister web of mystery. As I pondered the implications, a sense of unease settled over me, the unknown looming ominously on the horizon like a gathering storm.

"Listen, P," Elena's urgency resonated in her voice as she spoke, her words cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "I acquired CCTV footage of Emily's last sighting, and that's what I need you for."

Without a moment's hesitation, she raced to retrieve her laptop, returning with it clutched tightly in her grasp. With a sense of urgency, she opened the device, revealing the footage of Emily walking down a seemingly ordinary square, her demeanor betraying no hint of the impending turmoil.

But then, like a sudden storm on a clear day, a police patrol car flashed across the screen, casting a shadow of doubt over the otherwise mundane scene. "That means the police have more information on Emily's last movements," I realized, a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

In a voice tinged with frustration, Elena explained her futile attempts to obtain a statement from the police, leaving us stranded in a sea of uncertainty. It was a crucial piece of the puzzle that remained tantalizingly out of reach, teasing us with its elusiveness.

Turning to me with pleading eyes, Elena's hand reached out to grasp my arm, her wide eyes locking with mine in an unspoken plea. "I need you to secure an interview with the chief of police or any detective working the case," she implored, her voice soft but desperate. "You could still go on your awaited vacation with your mum afterward."

Her touch sparked a fire within me, "alright el I'll think of a plan but I need some rest first, maybe we could meet at the lobby after 2 hours?"

"Thank you, Peter, for real," Elena's gratitude washed over me, momentarily easing the weight of the task ahead. "Also, two hours sharp, don't be late, ey?"

I offered her a reassuring smile, my resolve firm. "I am always on time," I assured her, though a flicker of uncertainty danced behind my eyes.

"Yeah, right," Elena retorted sarcastically, her skepticism evident as she exited the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As the door clicked shut behind her, a sense of apprehension settled over me like a heavy shroud. Contemplation mingled with reservation, and a hint of fear gnawed at the edges of my mind.
Scene 3
As Elena departed, I surveyed the room. It bore the marks of neglect, with faded wallpaper peeling at the edges and worn furniture showing signs of age. The bed, positioned against one wall, appeared tired and weathered, its mattress sagging in the middle and the sheets bearing wrinkles. Above the bed, an out-of-place symbol caught my attention once again - the Eye of Horus, its intricate design etched into a wooden plaque and mounted on the wall.

Feeling the weight of exhaustion settle upon me, I sank onto the bed, craving a moment of respite. Before I could even settle in, the insistent ring of my phone shattered the silence. With a resigned sigh, I reached for the device, noting the caller ID - it was my mother, FaceTiming me.

I answered her call, greeted by the warm glow of her smile radiating through the screen. Our exchange of greetings was laced with the gentle familiarity of mother and son.

"Hello, dear," she chimed, "So, you finally found some time to visit your old mum, did you? How kind of you."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, accustomed to the underlying reproach that often accompanied her affectionate words. "Yes, Mom," I replied, trying to mask the unease in my voice with forced cheerfulness. "I'm looking forward to spending some time with you."

Her smile widened. "Well, I'll believe it when I see it," she quipped, her words laden with a veiled challenge. "Don't keep me waiting too long now. You know how precious my time is."

"Are you calling me just to do that?" I interjected, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice.

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Do what, dear?" she inquired innocently.

I hesitated, the words catching in my throat as I grappled with the swirling emotions inside me. "Never mind, Mom," I murmured, a wave of guilt washing over me for even entertaining the notion of confronting her.

But before I could retract my statement, her expression softened, and her voice took on a tone of vulnerability that caught me off guard. "Listen, Peter, I'm sorry," she began, her words tinged with a hint of sadness. "I just miss you. You don't call enough, and it feels like there's nothing for us to talk about. I just..."

Her voice trailed off, leaving the weight of her unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between us. In that moment, I felt a pang of sympathy for the woman on the other end of the line, grappling with her own insecurities and yearning for connection in the only way she knew how.

"I understand," I replied softly, feeling a surge of empathy. "I've been too caught up in my work, but that's why I decided to take this vacation. I've missed you too, Mom, and I really am looking forward to spending more time with you."

A genuine smile spread across my mother's face, her eyes lighting up with warmth and relief. "Oh, Peter, that's wonderful to hear!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine happiness. "I've missed you more than you know, dear. It's been too long since we've had a chance to catch up properly."

Before we could delve further into our conversation, my mother couldn't resist injecting a bit of her trademark humor. "Well, now that you're finally taking a break from work, maybe you'll have some time to find yourself a nice, not-at-all-crazy wife," she teased, a mischievous twinkle dancing in her eye.

Her playful jab elicited a hearty chuckle from me, knowing full well it was all in good fun. "We'll see, Mom," I replied with a laugh, shaking my head affectionately. "But for now, I think I'll focus on spending time with my favorite woman - you."

With a heartwarming laugh, my mother waved goodbye, her parting words carrying a hint of playful insistence. "Don't forget to keep your eyes open, Peter! You never know when Mrs. Right might come along," she quipped before ending the call, leaving me smiling at her enduring humor and unwavering love.

As she hung up, the old bed's worn embrace felt oddly inviting. I sank into its tired folds, finding unexpected comfort in its familiarity, and drifted into a well-deserved sleep.

scene 4

The sound of my alarm rang, and I half-opened my eyes, seeing only in black and white. I hit snooze and repeated the process five times until I finally woke up. I hoped Elena wouldn’t get mad at me for being late. The bed squeaked as I got up, and I hastily washed my face. As I turned on the water tap, I noticed water droplets leaking from the sides.

"Jeez, this place needs serious renovations," I muttered to myself.

I walked to the lobby, only to meet Elena.

"Hi, El," I said, bracing myself for Elena to scold me for my lateness.

"Hello, Peter," she replied in a low voice. She seemed to be staring at a void behind me, her face expressionless and still. I took a step closer to her.

"El, you okay? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, all is good. Uhm, weren't you supposed to leave for a trip to see your mom?"

"Well, yeah, in two days. I'll help you with this thi—" I began, confusion visible on my face, but Elena interrupted me. Her voice was firm, yet she avoided making eye contact.

"No, Peter, it's fine. I've thought about it, and I don't need your help anymore. You can go."

"I am not your toy, Elena. You can't just make me travel with you and then ask me to leave before I even get the chance to do anything," I snapped, my anger blinding me to the obvious. There was something Elena was hiding, and I needed to be calm to understand what was going on.

I tried to salvage the situation by apologizing and reassuring her that I was by her side, but it was too late. Elena's eyes welled up with tears. "I'm sorry, but please, Peter, leave. Go on your trip," she said, storming out of the lobby.

As she left, I noticed a necklace with the Eye of Horus dangling around her neck. Why does Elena wear this, and why is this place filled with an ancient Egyptian symbol? I froze, unsure of what to do. As I ran after Elena, desperation gnawed at my insides. She wasn't in front of the lobby anymore. I hopped into my car and started scouring the streets, telling myself she couldn't have gone too far.

I drove down every street, checked every alley, but Elena was nowhere to be found. Panic rose within me, and my breath quickened as I frantically tried to contact her, only to find her phone out of service.

Finally, I parked in front of an old bar. It was midnight by now, and the place was bustling with people. As I entered, I was greeted by a middle-aged man with a full beard. "Hey, newcomer, welcome to the Allure Bar," he slurred, his breath heavy with alcohol. He introduced himself as Michael Convivial, the owner of the bar, and offered me a shot on the house since it was my first time there.

"I didn't come here for the drinks," I said, the song 'What Am I to You' playing softly in the background. I showed him a photo of Elena, and he instantly recognized her, laughing as he muttered something I couldn't quite catch.

"That crazy girl who still hopes," he said, his speech slurred. He mentioned that he last saw her two days ago.

As I stepped out of the bar and headed towards my car, a ping from my phone startled me. It was a message from an unknown ID, accompanied by a chilling photo. In it, Elena lay unconscious, her Eye of Horus necklace smashed beside her. The caption sent shivers down my spine: "Listen to Elena, outsider. Get out of Silverlake and don't get involved in a fight you've got nothing to do with."

Dread washed over me as I stared at the image, my mind racing with questions.

As my fingers moved almost of their own accord, typing out a message, my mind raced with a mixture of fear and determination.

"I don't know who you are, but I will soon, and I will make you pay," I wrote, my fingers trembling slightly as I pressed send. "You've made it personal by kidnapping Elena, and I won't let you hurt her even more, you hear me?!"

Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the screen. I never knew I cared for Elena this deeply until this moment. The thought of her in danger filled me with a sense of fierce protectiveness, driving me to do whatever it takes to bring her back safely.
submitted by mohamedwafa to KeepWriting [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 22:00 Correct_Web_4870 Second and third script for Bob Audio Drama (wip)

Narrator: It was an early September morning. The sun was starting to rise, and the townsfolk were starting to wake up and do their usual routines. One of these townsfolk just happened to be a police officer. They were called into the station, and came as soon as they could. They stepped out of their parked car and walked over to the entrance. Before they entered, they would quickly fix their hat and tie.
Once inside, they would pass the lobby and go to the counte reception area. On the other side, stood a deputy with black, short hair and black eyes. They wore a blue button up with a police vest, blue jeans, and black shoes. A walkie talkie was attached to their vest. This deputy’s name was Jack. When he saw the police officer before him, he smiled.
Jack: Hello Sofia. Glad you could come.” (Happily)
Sofia: “Of course. From what I could tell by John’s tone during the call, it’s something very important.”
Narrator: The officer’s name was Sofia Asturias. Sometimes, she was called, officer Asturias. She had black eyes and medium blonde deep red hair. She wore a blue collared uniform, a cap with a black rim and a badge in the center of it. A black tie, pants, and shoes. She carried a glock firearm, a taser, a radio, and handcuffs at all times. She has been a part of the force for some time now.
Jack’s demeanor changed when he heard what Sofia had inferred.
Jack: It is, Sofia. Let me take you to the evidence room where John is currently. He’ll explain more about what’s happened. (urgently)
Narrator: Sofia nodded and entered the reception area. Together, she and Jack went over to the evidence room. Jack softly knocked on the door, and heard
John: Come in (lost in thought)
Narrator: Jack opened the door and entered with Sofia.
Jack: Officer Asturias is here, John. (presenting)
Narrator: John turned around to face the two. He had brown curly hair and a mustache, his eyes were black. He wore a black shirt and dark blue jacket. A black belt for his brown jeans, and had on black shoes. He currently has a cigar in his mouth. He took it out to talk.
John: Officer Asturias, I know that we just recently talked on the phone, before you came. Though now that you’re here, I’ll be giving you the bigger picture. (serious) Sofia: I understand. What’s the bigger picture then? (curiously)
Narrator: John motioned her to come to his side, before he pointed to a picture on the investigation thread they were producing.
John: Last night, a mutilated body was found in an alleyway. One of the victim’s arms and legs were missing. They also had a stab wound on their back. (Explanatory) Right now, we don’t have any leads, whoever did this left no trace. (frustrated)
Narrator: Sofia looked at the gruesome picture, and listened to what the sheriff had to say. Focusing on the important details.
Sofia: This is the first case of mutilation, correct? (Questioningly)
John: Correct (confirming)
Sofia: How can I help with the case? So we can make sure that this doesn’t happen again. (interested)
John: For now, be vigilant. Especially on your night shift. Hopefully we can gather more clues in the time being before this perpetrator strikes again. (Serious and urgent, with a sense of caution and concern.)
Sofia: Alright, I’ll make sure that nothing slips by me, specifically anything suspicious. I’ll leave you and Jack to it then. (cooperative)
Narrator: Sofia would turn around and leave John, and was facing Jack.
Sofia: I’ll see you later.
Jack: See you, Sofia (friendly)
Narrator: Sofia would exit the evidence room, after giving Jack a smile back, after he gave a smile to her. She left the way she came and entered her police cruiser. She was lost in thought for a bit. She needed to ensure this didn’t spiral out of control. She had a family to think of. A whole town she needed to ensure stayed safe. She now had a clear objective, as she left the parking lot and onto the streets.
It was still morning. In one of the houses of the town, the Rosendale family dweled. Sofia knew them well, because they were her family. Her niece was Evelyn Rosendale, a female teenager. She had green eyes and black hair. She wore a high neck lantern sleeve sweater, flap cargo pants and wedge boots. She was the youngest, two years younger than her older brother. Sofia’s nephew was Toby Rosendale, a young adult male. He had hazel eyes, and rich auburn hair. He wore a plaid drawstring hooded shirt, navy blue jeans, and blue sneakers. Sofia’s brother in law and the father of both Evelyn and Toby, was Andrew Rosendale. He had brown eyes and brown sable hair. He wore a plain color lapel part zipper shirt, with pants and shoes.
At the moment in the household, Evelyn was getting ready for school, while Toby was getting ready to head to his college classes. Their dad was cooking breakfast for them.
Toby: Sis, hurry up. You still have to eat breakfast before going to school! (calling out)
Eveyln: Speak for yourself, you have to eat breakfast too. I’m not the only one at risk of coming late to school! (calling back)
Andrew: Breakfast is ready! (announce)
Narrator: Soon the two siblings raced down the stairs and to the dining room. Where their dad had placed the two plates full of food on the table.
Evelyn: Looks delicious, dad. Thanks. (grateful)
Toby: Thanks, dad. (grateful)
Andrew: Of course. (happily) Now eat up, I don’t want any of you to be late for your classes. (sternly)
Both: Yes dad (in acknowledgement)
Narrator: After the two were done, they stood up with their plates and utensils and placed the items in the sink. Before grabbing their bags.
Toby: Bye dad. (in a rush)
Andrew: Bye son (warmly)
Narrator: Evelyn hadn’t left yet. She wanted to tell her dad where she planned to go after school. She came up to him.
Evelyn: Hey dad? Would it be ok, if after school, I went to the candy club? I just want to get some candy. (Polite and slightly tentative)
Narrator: Andrew thought for a moment. He saw no harm in Evelyn doing so.
Andrew: Yes, you can go. As long as you have the money buy some candy and don’t come late. (granting permission)
Evelyn: I do and I won’t. See you. (happily)
Narrator: Evelyn left with a smile on her face, she was on her way to school. Andrew would clean up the plates and utensils and get himself ready for work. He put on his suit, ready for another day at the bank.
Script 3:
Narrator: It was late afternoon, close to evening. Evelyn had left school and was on her way to the candy club. She had her backpack on her. One of the arm straps was on her shoulder. At the entrance of the store, there were giant lollipop displays, a display of donuts, and cookie bars. A glowing sign above in pink with white letters, that read: -Candy Club-
Evelyn smiled and walked in. The store was filled with candy and sweet treats. The aroma was one of sugar and baked goods. The music was soft, yet cheerful. Behind the counter, was a young man with black hair. He wore a white button-up shirt with a single pink stripe on both sleeves, a pink bowtie that resembles a taffy wrapper with a white swirl on it, a white employee cap, light blue pants, and black shoes. His name was Kevin.
He saw her walk in and greeted her with a friendly smile.
Kevin: Hey Evelyn. Nice to see you again. (Friendly)
Evelyn: Hi Kevin. Yeah, it's been a while. How are you? (Friendly and warm)
Kevin: I'm doing well. As well as I can anyway with this job. You know how some kids are. (Slightly resigned, with a hint of humor)
Evelyn: Mhm. That's good to hear, and just think of it this way. You're bringing delight to everyone with these sweets. Even though you don't make them, people still have to buy it from you. (Encouraging)
Kevin: True. Though sometimes dealing with certain customers can be a pain. (conversational and mildly frustrated.)
Evelyn: I can sort of relate. I worked in retail last summer. There were so many times where I just wished to disappear or just tell the customers off. (Empathic and reflective)
Kevin: (chuckled) I can definitely imagine what you might've told those customers if you had the chance. (lighthearted and slightly teasing.)
Evelyn: (laughed softly) Yeah, I would've left them stunned. Anyway, I'm going to see what candy I'll get. (Confident, then casual)
Kevin: May I give you a suggestion? (Politely)
Evelyn: What's your suggestion? (Intrigued)
Kevin: I suggest you get Zoots. They're sweet at first, but then turn sour quickly with some tiny pops. (Informative, and enthusiastic)
Narrator: Evelyn was shocked, but grinned. She playfully slapped one of his hands. Which was on the counter.
Evelyn: Kevin (shocked)
Kevin: (Laughed) Ow (playfully) Or you can get another candy. (Open-ended)
Evelyn: (gigled) I'll think about it.
Narrator: Kevin smiled, as he shook his hand after getting it off the counter. Evelyn would look around and would pick out the candy. She got a chocolate bar, a pack of bubblegum, a bag of gummy bears, and a small bag of Zoots. She placed them all on the counter.
Kevin: So you did pick out Zoots after all. (Smugly)
Narrator: Evelyn playful rolled her eyes, before taking out the cash to pay for the candy.
Evelyn: I did. I just had to, after hearing the description of the candy. Here you go. (Slightly playful)
Narrator: Kevin took the money and placed it in the cash register.
Kevin: I know you'll enjoy them. Would you like a bag for the candies? Or are you going to place them in your backpack? (Considerate and curious)
Evelyn: I'll place them in my backpack. Thanks. (Appreciative)
Narrator: Evelyn would grab the candy she bought and place them all in her backpack. Once her backpack was zipped up, she put it on her back again.
Evelyn: I gotta go now. It was nice talking to you Kevin. Thanks for the candy. (Friendly and appreciative, with a casual undertone)
Kevin: It was nice talking to you too. You're welcome, hope to see you soon. (Friendly/warm, with a hint of anticipation)
Narrator: After they exchanged goodbyes. Evelyn walked out of the store with her candy. Now heading straight home.
What the police would find the next morning, would be another body.
Bob/Devil: (Evil laughter) echo sound effect
submitted by Correct_Web_4870 to VelsebBob [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 21:25 AlternativeNotice761 What could this be?

Before I mention my problem, I wanna say that I have an upcoming dentist appointment where I’ll speak about my issue as well. However, I still wanna ask here to get an idea of what it might be and if I should expedite my appointment.
Basically I have recently started paying attention to a small bump I can feel with my tongue on the roof of my mouth about where the hard palate ends on the side of my teeth. It’s symmetrical on both sides but more developed on the right side. It’s not visible at all (hence no picture, sorry) and I can also only feel it when I glide my tongue over it. When I touch it with my finger, it feels very hard almost if I’m touching a piece of bone and hurts when applying pressure on it. Otherwise it doesn’t cause me any pain or complaints. Also, I don’t think this recently appeared but rather has been accompanying me for a while – I just never noticed.
I really hope I can gather some insight to my issue before going to the dentist. My mind keeps on forcing my tongue to the spot which makes me worry a little, even though I don’t necessarily think it’s something severe.
Thanks in advance!
submitted by AlternativeNotice761 to askdentists [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 20:50 FancyFireDrake How Weiss became a Chainbreaker

She was flying through space.
Of all the things Weiss could have thought, this was somehow the first. She could have contemplated how she escaped the God of Spites grasp. Why her rapier was a tainted black. What purpose this man in front of her had, what goal he was trying to achieve. What strange visions she had been seing. What were the purple and golden beings of light, crippled and on deaths door, he forced her to kill. But truly… Weiss was just too tired to do any of that.
She had been tired for a long time. As if he picked up on her exhaustion, the pale man caressed her shoulder. The same way she had always wished her father would do back when she was small and innocent. Before she saw how corrupt her familys legacy had become. And how much corruption this world truly had.
“Don’t worry. We are almost there.” The man, Gorr was his name, reassured her. Slowly they descended, floating, onto a Planets surface. A Planet cleansed of… anything that should make it a proper world. No trees, no signs of life… even the atmosphere and any water seemed to be gone.
“What is all this?” she forced herself to ask. “Remnant… one version of it at least.”
Remnant? Weiss exhaustion faded quickly as she looked at him in shock. “Not yours I can assure you.” …Unfortunate. It would be better than what it currently was in for a state.
Sighing she let more words flow out of her mouth. “Who was responsible for it?” “The gods that abandoned this world once before. They had returned… stripped it of all life. Just a dead world now.” “Remnants… Gods?"
A sudden flash of insight, in front of her thoughts a golden and purple dragon each. “Were those?” “Yes. These were the beings I had you kill.”
…Weiss hung her head. Killing a God should be a more impressive feeling shouldn’t it be? Something deemed impossible outside the pages of a novel. Mighty entities, ranging from simply awe inspiring to truly omnipotent. And yet she couldn’t help but feel… downtrodden. Even as easily stabbed corpses, barely being able to offer any resistance to her slightest push, they had radiated power.
If those were Gods. What in the world was she supposed to call the thing that had taken her home from her?
She and Gorr walked, towards what she saw was an empty pit. A crater as if a meteorite had impacted. And yet… call it a gut feeling but like an insidious snake her mind told her were they were. Atlas. Or what little was left of the dead place that had once been Atlas. “…Why?” Weiss asked. Why would anyone do this? To her home? Any version of her home?
“Hubris. A Jumper had thought about being rewarded. Collecting all relics… for something as insignificant as a ‘Scenario’. Uncaring what his failure would cause. The LIVES he would ruin.” Jumper. The term was familiar to Weiss as well now. Someone who could traverse realities. Who just plundered and stole and defiled everything they touched. Like he did. “And what does that make you?” Weiss asked, trying to ignore the taste of bile threatening to rise up her throat. Gorr just looked at her with honesty. “Necessity. The thing needed to break the hold Jumpchain has on all of us. The thing that puts an end to tragedies like these.”
“…You kill Jumpers?” “That is my aim.”
She looked away from him, back to the crater. Briefly she saw flashes of Atlas burning, the greatest Kingdom, her home, crashing into the depths, accompanied by the laughter of a thirsting God. Anger rose up in her.
“If that is what you are… Then where were you… when everything… I ever knew… was taken from me?” she accused.
“Trapped.” Gorr immediately answered, showing no hint of deception on his face. “Enslaved. A Pawn in a broken system that transcended even the Gods I despised. Just like you I suffered. Just like so many across all realities.” He walked closer to her. Weiss didn’t step back. “I was not there for you than my child… but I am here now.” Gorr in an instant, to fast for her to react, grabbed her arm, making the Schnee flinch.
“Your power… your Glyphs… it is so much more than mere spells and summons. You have the power to make everything your vanquished opponents have and take it for yourself, as you prove yourself superior. As you prove yourself free of whatever they could do upon you. And with it you yourself become greater.”
A glyph appeared beneath them, white but with a small tint of black at the edges, as he lowered her hand further and further. “Focus. Focus on what I know you can be.” Images flashed back inside her mind.
Rubys horrified expression. Blake crying in fear as she was possessed by something that shouldn’t exist. Yangs screams… so many screams.
Weiss grunted. “Do not shy away from it.”
More images. Winter being impaled, her very aura her very soul being devoured. Her mother for the first time trying to act like one and shield her child. Whitley trying to haggle for her life as Myrtenaster lay broken at her feet. Jaques corpse smelling putrid.
“Stop it.” She choked out, tears threatening to flow down her face. She felt sick. She didn’t want to see this.
“I know it pains you… do not run from it…” “Please. Please stop! I don’t want to see this!” Weiss pleaded. His grin haunting her.
“You did not blind yourself to the corruption in your family. Do not shy away now. Not when you can be defiance embodied. So… defy.”
Gorr ordered… and beneath her the Glyph grow larger. Larger than she had even managed to make one, as her feelings raged within her. Grief. Loss. Rage. Hatred. Why… why was he allowed power. Why was this power allowed to exist? How many worlds would suffer like her? How many screamed and cried and suffered like THEY DID because of this one contemptable thing.
Jumpchain.
The glyph expanded further and further, more than it ever should or could. The entire city, kingdom, continent was engulfed with it, the energy of a blizzard storm rising upon the dead planet.
“The chains with which they bind use will shatter!” He shouted to the skies as she unleashed her power. She never noticed it when Gorr let go, herself raising up her hands as shades appeared behind her. Of an eastern and European dragon… the Gods who destroyed this world chained to her will. But she wouldn’t let herself be chained again. And with a scream she manifested the country sized dragons, their wrath under her command.
“And they will learn of the scorn of infinite worlds!” And as the blizzard raged, the dragons bowing their head to their mistress, Weiss was gripped with one thought. Made one declaration. All Jumpers would break before her.
XXXXXXXXX
Some time later
Registered Jumper Death: Esdeath
Lostbelt 1 Connection Broken
Weiss stared silently at the screen in front of her, tracking her friends progress. She did good in slaying the General of the Empire. But the other notification?
This... was not what she was supposed to do. The Lostbelts, the timelines. They were but a gigantic example of necromancy. Not something supposed to be sustained.
To dismantle this system... it could throw more than a few wrenches into Gorrs plans. Maybe... require some of the backup plans instead.
The Schnee sighed and closed her eyes. No matter this was a hiccup. There were six more Lostbelts for her to traverse.
Sooner or later... Weiss would have her family back.
Starting with her.
submitted by FancyFireDrake to JumpChain [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 20:42 Ralts_Bloodthorne Nova Wars - Chapter 65

[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
"Now hear this, now hear this.
"In less than an hour we will drop out of jump space. Chances of an enemy encounter are high. We are far from home, far from support and surrounded by untold trillions of Mar-gite in deep space. This is good, it means we don't have to worry about what we shoot at.
"When the time comes, I have only one standing order: fight. Fight with every gun, every missile, every ounce of will and scrap of code at your disposal. If central control is lost, fight under local control. If isolated from the computers, fight under manual control. If boarded, fight for every corridor, every stateroom, every access way you can reach. Fight for your lives and if you find your situation hopeless, fight to drag the enemy into the grave with you.
"The Confederacy expects that every sentient will do their duty. Our duty is to engage the enemy.
"And the enemy only exists to be destroyed.
"That is all." -- Nova Wars Era, Confederate Space Force, speaker and ship of origin uncertain.
"Tell me, Sister? How far does your sight reach? How many years? And then, in the future, when we have given up strength, and allies, and numbers, and the potential to fight back meaningfully, time and again, in pursuit of your safe path... and you find out it is a cul-de-sac, surrounded on all sides by death, with no possible escape, because you traded away every chance of victory because you were scared... who will you blame then?" - Dhruv Deshmuhk, Legion, apocryphal, referenced in "Telling a Hard Truth straight: a love language", Psychology Forever Journal
"We fight, not for today, not for this blood soaked agony wracked terrible day or the horrible horrible victory we may wrench from the gnashing jaws of defeat with blood soaked hands.
"We fight for tomorrow. For those yet unborn. For the future.
"You are the hope of the Telkan people. You are the living standard, the banner, that says to the universe: We will not submit! We will not kneel! We will stand! We will fight!
"With that, know that the Telkan people are with you, Marine. Always." - Director Brentili'ik, in a speech to Telkan Marine Officer's Training Course Class #10, Confederacy-Council Conflict Era.
The flashes were starting. Not big ones, not the Flashbang, but rather the tiny pinpricks of harsh light that sparkled for a second that vanished.
Deaths that had happened seconds or minutes prior.
Captain N'Skrek stared out the windows of the Show Bridge, staring at the inky black of space. The ship, the Gray Lady, was in between the Galactic Arms, in the vast nothingness that held no stellar systems.
Oh, it had at one time.
Forty thousand years prior the stars between the two galactic arm spurs had gone out, with the exception of a single string of pearls liking the two galactic arms.
Now, the Gray Lady, a ship in the Colossus Class of ancient Confederacy Space Force classification, was deep into the gulf between the galactic arms. Just over halfway.
He could see the rings that made up a long tube, the rings held into position by what looked like, at a distance of light seconds, to be thin straps. Coasting silently through the rings, bathed by light emitted by the interior of the rings, were massive Mar-gite Attack Clusters.
Sparkles were starting to show on the clusters as the Fruit Flies made their attack runs.
Larger flashes, still rendered tiny by stellar distances, started shining to brief life as the C+ cannon barrages and the missile swarms started slamming into the shining chrome ships.
Return fire was causing the battlescreens to cover the ship in a gauzy veil.
"No, no, it's all death and destruction," a Terran woman moaned from where she was being held in place by three identical human males.
Captain N'Skrek knew that it was, without any doubt, a physical assault upon the female.
But Captain N'Skrek was also smart enough to know not to get involved when two Immortals of myth and legend were having a family squabble.
After all, were not the Treana'ad a crafty and wise people who managed to obtain victgory over 25% of all military engagements with the Terrans?
"We're humans, there's always death and destruction," the male said, his voice slightly mocking. "Look past the probabilities. Look past the initial death and destruction. Look at the pathways it all leads to. Look at the path that we're taking."
The woman struggled but the man held her still.
"It's all death and destruction! Millions! Billions! Trillions of deaths!" she wailed.
"The enemy's death toll does not matter, little sister," the man, known to historians as the Biological Apostle Vat-Grown Luke, told the woman. "It's war. There will be death and destruction no matter what. What matters, all that matters, is that humanity and its allies survive."
"Please, Luke," the woman started sobbing.
"Tears don't work on me," Legion said, his voice full of dark and cruel mirth.
He leaned his head down.
"I am... Legion," he said softly.
Captain N'Skrek put the two Immortals out of his mind as he coordinated the battle, taking tactical and strategic advice from his staff.
The Fruit Flies wreaked havoc on the rings, shattering them, letting superstructure damage work with inertia and momentum to tear the systems apart. C+ cannon shots hitting deep inside the megastructures. The shots were no longer straight iron ferrite slugs with a hyperdrive engine for thrust and reactionless inertia engines for guidance and terminal maneuvers, they now had a burning core of spooky and strange-particle FOOF that weighed in the metric kilotons.
"Fruit Fly system back online, Captain."
"Fabricate and launch," N'Skrek ordered. "Compliments on their initial strikes."
The silver ships were destroyed already, the temporal range finders reporting data from when the shells would hit, telling N'Skrek's staff where the ships would be when the shots were fired.
"I can't... I can't..." the woman sobbed when N'Skrek ordered another flight of Fruit Flies into the fight.
"Parse the deaths, parse the destruction," Legion said. Another of him pointed at the icons for the just-launched Fruit Fly flights. "They are born, they live, and they die to kill the enemy. Over and over, it's what they do. Look past their deaths at their accomplishments."
The Terran woman was sobbing, but N'Skrek didn't care.
He had a job to do.
Task Force Lonely Peach had a job to do.
It had came as no surprise to him that Legion would know, without being told or having it confirmed, what the ultimate goal of Task Force Lonely Peach.
After all, Legion himself had carried out such orders under the command of the Imperium.
It no longer mattered what happened behind the Gray Lady, whether or not the Confederacy or anyone else survived. It no longer mattered if the Mar-gite were victorious or not.
The target were not the Mar-gite, present in the massive rolled up long cones.
The target were the ones pushing them forward, the ones enabling them to cross the great emptiness between the two galactic arms.
No, the target was now those enabling the Mar-gite.
Captain N'Skrek's orders were simple.
Find the enemy.
Determine their leadership.
Attack their military.
Attack their planets.
Sterilize their stellar systems.
Break the will of their civilians to support their government.
Leave them no ground to go to.
His briefing had been grim. The Confederacy was confident it could eventually stop the Mar-gite.
Eventually.
That meant dozens, hundreds, possibly thousands of planets denuded of life. Just as many stars nova-sparked to wipe out any trace of the Mar-gite.
Task Force Lonely Peach had been dispatched with a very Terran mission.
To return to the Mar-gite's masters what they had given the Confederacy.
Tenfold.
Captain N'Skrek watched as the Fruit Flies split up into squadrons, heading for any remaining hulks of the silver ships, the larger pieces of the megaconstruct, and to fire upon any of the Mega-Clusters or larger.
"Look past the death and destruction," Legion was saying. "They'll be sending in reinforcements, Sacajawea," his voice grew low and deadly. "Where will they come out."
"No, I won't," she whispered, her eyes wide and staring at the holotank. "I won't use my gift," she sobbed.
"You will. You ran away last time. You left us to rely on The Detainee to access the SUDS. You ran off and left us and humanity has been extinct for forty-thousand years," Legion was saying. "No more running, little sister. You will use your gifts, your powers, as you were meant to."
There was a perfectly timed coincidental moment of silence on the Show Bridge.
"Show us the way," Legion said.
Sacajawea suddenly jerked upright, the tendons on her neck standing out as her face raised to the ceiling. Her arm lifted, pointing out the window of the Show Bridge. Her other hand thrust itself into the hologram. Her eyes glowed purple, lightning crackled up and down her raven braids, and sparks danced between her teeth as they chattered.
A section of space was outlined as she gibbered for a moment, fragments of words, chops of sentences, followed by a string of numbers that the tactical computers recognized as coordinates.
"They come, more than before. They know not what they face, just that the enemy, that we, are attacking them, attacking their forces, and so now they will arrive here and now," she cried out. "They do not know, they come in a multitude that not even this powerful vessel can resist. They come by the hundreds, and will overwhelm even this vessel according to my Sight."
She collapsed and Legion caught her even as two versions of him turned to face the windows.
"Let me know when you want me to call for those reinforcements I promised you," one said.
"Or not," the other said.
N'Skrek just nodded, turning and giving orders to the crew to prepare for a microjump to put them 'above' and 'away' from the point that Sacajawea had pointed out.
"Can she have lied?" N'Skrek asked, the Legion standing beside him as four others carefully carried Sacajawea off.
Legion shook his head. "No. I'd know if she was lying," he said. "She was filled with a trance, a fugue state, so the more mortal part of her wasn't there to lie."
"Hold off on those reinforcements until we can see what we are facing," N'Skrek said. He snorted. "I doubt the young lady fully appreciates the firepower the Gray Lady can put out."
"She was never military. She had some training, but not much," Legion said. "Still, she had a vision, take that as you will."
N'Skrek nodded. He turned and ordered up more Fruit Flies to be generated.
He'd have them launch as soon as the microjump was finished.
"Digital Sentiences, Virtual Intelligences report jump transit safety interlocks are engaged," came the word.
N'Skrek motioned. "Engage."
The painting appeared, but before N'Skrek could pause to look at it he was thrown through it, the image shattering into hundreds of shards of reality. They dissolved almost instantly.
N'Skrek only took a half-step forward as the ship entered realspace.
"Load the planet-crackers. Target the larger Mar-gite constructs. Let's see how they like that, since we don't have to worry about gravitational wobble," N'Skrek ordered. "When our new guests arrive, I want them to be focusing on the constructs."
"Fruit Flies are launching. Steam driven launcher only," came the report.
N'Skrek nodded, staring at the screen.
"I remember waiting to ambush the Mantid's Third Fleet that was heading for Sol," Legion said conversationally, as if he wasn't speaking about one of the most famous wars of ancient history. "Hiding in the gravity shadow of a supermassive gas giant, inside the rings themselves."
He turned and gave N'Skrek a grin.
"An Armada of One," he said. "No chance for the Mantid to overwhelm my brain, to shut me down. Beyond a Hive Mind, a singular mind with a singular purpose."
"Sounds exciting," N'Skrek said, watching the windows and the holotank at the same time.
"Very boring. I played a lot of video games and card games," Legion said.
"Against yourself, even an MMO would be solitary and single player," N'Skrek said.
"Ruins PvP," Legion grinned.
"I'll bet," N'Skrek said.
"The Sacajawea of that time stood on the bridge with me. She had shown me where the Mantid would take the most casualties and where I would be killed quite often," Legion said. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and N'Skrek hid a frown at the fact he didn't recognize Lucky Strike as a brand he was familiar with.
"Does it hurt when you get killed?" N'Skrek asked as Legion lit two cigarettes, handing one to N'Skrek.
"Very much so," Legion said. "Took me a few hundred thousand deaths to get used to it. Now, it hurts, it's terrifying, but not much more than clipping my fingernails," he sighed. "It's all right. I've always been, in many ways, less than human."
"You seem, to my albeit limited experience, to be very human to me," N'Skrek said. He took a drag off the cigarette and almost started coughing. It was harsh, raw tobacco with no additives and the filter tasting heavily of asbestos.
The Fruit Flies were scattering, going to full stealth, blinking their ready icons.
"Thank you," Legion said. He exhaled smoke. "Like the smoke?"
N'Skrek nodded.
"Gift from the Dee. Not the Detainee Lady Lord of Hell," he said, staring at the holotank. "But The Dee. The flesh and blood one," he gave a rueful chuckle. "Evil never dies."
"Harsh," N'Skrek said.
The missile pods flashed ready and went to stealth.
"Like her," Legion smiled. He suddenly looked a bit sad. "I miss her. Miss my siblings, the other Biological Apostles," he said. He sighed. "Sacajawea makes me miss them all that much more."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Sometimes I miss the Digital Omnimessiah too."
"Ship is at silent running," came the soft voice.
N'Skrek stood there, smoking, with Legion standing next to him.
Behind them Mar-gite clusters were breaking up from a combination of the FOOF and the split second artificial singularities that exploded into existence inside their mass.
Perhaps I can't completely eliminate them, but I can knock out a measurable percentage since I don't have to worry about how it might affect a stellar system's gravity balance, he thought at one point.
Time slowly ticked by.
"How is she?" N'Skrek asked at one point.
"Recovering. I'm sitting with her. I had a medic look at her. Physically, she's fine," Legion said.
"She should be on anti-depressants and undergoing therapy. For us it's ancient history, for her the Glassing and the loss of her people, even her death, are recent events. She only died a short time ago," N'Skrek said.
"And you should be dancing for a comely matron and I should be somewhere helping someone correct genetic sequencing damage," Legion said. "Shoulda, coulda, woulda, didn't."
N'Skrek just nodded.
"Wait, can you see that?" Legion suddenly asked, pointing at the window.
"What?" N'Skrek said.
"The stars. A faint red-shift," Legion said.
N'Skrek looked toward the scanning officer, who frowned and looked at his instruments.
"It's faint. And large," Legion said. He motioned with his hands, using the smart-glass interface to highlight the area. "Right there."
"Nothing, sir," the scan-tech said.
N'Skrek tapped his lapel. "All personnel, prepare for enemy engagement," he said.
His voice carried over the intercom.
"Akka-Berry," Legion said softly. "They use a form of Akka-Berry."
The chrome ships suddenly appeared, wavering slightly like a heat mirage before solidifying up. They appeared pebbled and dull, like unbuffed and unpolished chrome.
"OPEN FIRE!" N'Skrek roared. He knew it was unnecessary, that the computers would give the fire order.
But it seemed to carry more weight as the PA repeated it.
0-0-0-0-0
Legion got into the elevator, waiting a moment after the doors closed to touch the panel. He overrode the alarms, then stopped the elevator.
The shadows warped and a light fog filled the elevator car.
It cleared to reveal a short Terran woman, with black hair pulled behind her head in a long braid, a severe face, plump, overripe figure, and gunmetal gray eyes.
"Well?" Legion asked.
"She's a child," the woman spat.
"I know that," Legion said. "Can you help her?"
"No, I mean, she's literally a child. Physically. She's never grown up," the woman snarled.
"Our aging was halted due to what we were going to do. The last thing we needed was a temporal sheer to kill half of us via old age," Legion said.
"I know that, you multiplying idiot," the woman snapped. "But she should have been allowed to grow into an adult first."
"She chose to stay young," Legion shrugged.
"And her brain has the neural pathways of a child," the woman snapped. She dug out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter of enameled steel. "The human brain doesn't fully mature until it's in its mid-20's. That's why we sent 18 year olds off to die in a rice patty or on some god forsaken beach. You need people who think charging the machinegun is a good idea, and teenage boys are well known for their excellent risk-reward judgement."
Legion just shrugged.
"But her, she's a child. Sixteen at the most, probably later fifteen," the woman said. She pulled out a cigarette, held it between her even white teeth, and lit it. "She has the mind of a teenage girl, a people known for their excellent decision making ability and capability to process trauma."
Legion just nodded.
The woman put away the cigarettes without offering one to Legion. He saw the emblem on the lighter.
"US ARMY ATOMIC COMMAND" in red block letters.
"You know how I feel about child soldiers," the woman said.
"It was The Glassing," Legion just shrugged.
"It's always something," the woman snarled. "Doesn't change how I feel."
"Can you help her?" Legion asked. "You're closer to her than I am."
"You mean, I'm as much a primitive barbarian as she is," the woman said, suddenly smiling without any humor. "I am what I am and she is what she is. Primitive savages from a time of hardship, resource shortages, and social upheaval."
"I wouldn't be so rude as to put it that way," Legion said. He smiled back. "But, yes."
The woman stared at the brushed steel wall of the elevator for a long moment. "I won't alter her SUDS record."
"Of course not," Legion said.
After a moment she nodded. "I can't help her, but I know some people who may."
Legion looked down at her. "Who?"
The woman smiled and exhaled smoke that filled the elevator car.
Her teeth and eyes were still visible.
"You'll know them when I bring them," she said. The eyes blinked. "Keep me in the loop for what's going on here. I have a feeling that events back home are going to have my attention pretty soon."
"I will," Legion told the eyes as the smile vanished.
The eyes closed.
Legion could feel it when she was gone. The smoke slowly cleared, leaving him alone in the elevator.
0-0-0-0-0
"What is taking this elevator so long to get here?" Jaskel asked 8814.
--not know computer says is moving-- the greenie replied.
"Aw man, Gunny's going to have my ass."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]
submitted by Ralts_Bloodthorne to HFY [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 20:40 scarymaxx My cat always leaves me the best gifts

On the morning of Mother’s Day this year I received exactly one gift: a dead rat, deposited at my doorstep by my cat, James. James is black and white, slick and elegant, his fur like a tuxedo. If a cat was cast to replace Daniel Craig in the next Bond film, James would be perfect. In fact, the resemblance is how he got his name in the first place.
“Thank you, James,” I said, bending to stroke his fur as we both examined the little rotting carcass on the welcome mat. He looked up at me hopefully as if expecting me to take a nibble of his offering. “I’ll get to that later,” I promised.
The rest of the family had forgotten the holiday. Not that I blamed them. My husband Saito was busy at work, pulling 70-hour shifts as he prepared a series of PowerPoints to explain his company’s corporate structure to a potential buyer. In the meantime, the twins June and Lily were busy with spring soccer and last-minute prep for their upcoming AP tests.
I spent some time idly making myself coffee while the family slept. Then, around 9:00 they all flew past in flurry, the twins off to a soccer game and Saito headed to the office.
It wasn’t until they’d all left, that a lump began to form in my throat, and I headed to the backyard to have a little cry. I felt silly. It was a made up holiday, after all. Not like Christmas or a birthday (though Saito forgot my birthday too this year.)
For a few minutes, I sat on one of the patio chairs, sniffling pathetically, hoping no one returned early to see me like this.
I was about to go back in when I saw James. He was over in the corner of the yard, lying in the shade. Right away, I could tell something was off about him. James always slept curled in a ball, his chin resting on his rear haunch. Today, he was stretched out, bent awkwardly. Even stranger, he seemed to shimmer in the few spots where the dappled sunlight caught his fur.
Slowly, I walked over, clicking my tongue in the way he liked. When he didn’t move, I softly called his name. Finally, I reached out to touch him, only to find his fur wet. Drawing my hand back, I found it red and bloody in the sunlight, which is when I started screaming.
I called Saito a few minutes later.
“I need you to come home,” I said. “James is dead.”
“Your friend James? From college?”
“Our cat!” I realized I was screaming into the phone. “Our only cat!”
I could practically hear him roll his eyes on the far and of the line.
“It’s not a good day for this,” he said. “I can come back a bit early, take care of the body. Just leave it alone for now.”
I spent many hours alone that day, sitting in the backyard. In time, flies found James and began to lick at him with their little straw-mouths, dipping their horrible little hands in his blood and rubbing them together. It was no use shooing them away.
I was sunburned raw by the time Saito came home. He looked at me, incredulous.
“What happened to you?”
“I was standing vigil,” I explained.
He rubbed at the bridge of his nose.
“Where’s the cat?” he asked, and I gestured to the backyard. Every inch of my skin throbbed from the sunburn, but it felt right, like my inside and outside pain matched in some harmonious way.
Saito grabbed a wastebasket and started walking toward the backyard.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Taking care of… of James,” he said, trying to use a gentle tone, as if explaining to a child that it was time for bed.
“You’ll bury him,” I said. “At the foot of the maple. Three feet deep at least.”
He shook his head.
“That’s not even legal, hon. Besides, I was working all day. I’m exhausted.”
“Three feet deep,” I said, and then I went into the garage to find his shovel. The one I located was unused, though we must have bought it years ago. I brought it in and handed it to Saito. He took it without a word and went outside.
An hour later, he came in dirty and sweaty. He headed to the shower.
I walked to the maple to find the earth there freshly disturbed from digging. Then I found one of James’s favorite toys–a fuzzy bird that had once had a bell inside–and affixed it to a stick, which I placed at the head of the grave.
At dinner, the twins showed up still in their soccer uniforms. They’d spent the day at the park with friends after the game.
“Happy Mother’s Day,” said June, somewhat sheepishly. She handed me an envelope with a gift card to Jazzy Juice inside.
“Thanks,” I said. “What’s Jazzy Juice?”
“It’s a smoothie thing,” explained Lily. “It’s twenty dollars.”
“Thank you,” I said again, staring at the card. Maybe I was making a face.
“If you don’t want it, I can take it back,” said June. “My friends and I go there all the time.”
“No,” I said. “I love it. I’m sure I’ll love it.”
“Great,” she said, looking disappointed.
The next morning I went out into the backyard and screamed.
James’s grave had been dug up. It was nothing put an empty hole surrounded by a pile of dirt. The stick and the toy were missing too. It didn’t seem that deep. By the time Saito ran out to see what was wrong, I was in tears.
“Three feet deep!” I shouted. “I said three feet deep.”
“The soil gets really rocky when you go down that far,” he said. “I figured it didn’t matter.”
“It mattered!” I screamed.
I decided to take some ‘me’ time that afternoon, so I headed to Jazzy Juice. I tried to figure out the menu while I was in line, but I got overwhelmed by all the options. Finally, when I got to the front of the line, I asked if I could just get a basic orange juice.
“It would be more like an orange smoothie,” said the girl behind the counter, a thin redhead in her twenties, covered in tattoos.
“Oh that’s no good,” I said. “I don’t really like pulp. No pulp please.”
“That’s not really what we do here,” she said. “Maybe it’s a good day to try something new. The Berry Blitz is super popular.”
“I want my orange juice,” I said. I was probably a little rude, but I was at my limit. “I’ve got a gift card,” I added. “For twenty dollars.”
“Fine,” she said. And then, I swear, under her breath she added, “Boomer bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
She didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, she turned and started throwing frozen oranges into a blender.
“I’m forty-four!” I shouted over the noise as she started the blender. “I’m a Millennial! Maybe Gen-X!”
Finally, she handed me my drink. It was so pulpy it clogged the straw.
She shot me a shit-eating smile, “have a nice day!”
I chucked my drink in the garbage on my way out the door.
That night, I found myself crying as I tried to make dinner. I could see the little hole that had once contained James’s body through the kitchen window, and I couldn’t help glancing at it as I tried to peel zucchini.
It struck me that James had been the only one in the world who loved me at all. Even worse, it seemed unlikely that no one would ever love me again. I was aging, chubby, and boring. The world didn’t want me anymore.
Without realizing it, I made a deep cut on my thumb and started bleeding everywhere. For a minute, I just watch the blood ooze out of me, all over the vegetables.
That night, I heard a thump. I tried to shake Saito awake, but he was dead asleep. Finally, I got up and walked downstairs. There was another thump now, louder. Then a series of three more thuds right by the front door.
Slowly, I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and then walked through the darkness. As I did, I heard a familiar sound that seemed impossible: it was James’s distinctive meow, the little cry he’d deliver at the door when he wanted my attention. And yet it was somehow different now, a lower, deeper mewing.
“Hello?” I asked as I walked to the door, but there was no sound now. I heard footsteps outside, not a cat’s but something bigger, maybe human.
Finally, I reached the door and slowly turned the knob. I opened it just a crack, peeking through to see if anyone was outside.
At first, I saw no one. Just the empty street in the moonlight. A few night blooming flowers had opened their petals, but otherwise the neighborhood looked dull and lifeless. Then I looked down and had to stifle a scream.
There, on my doorstep, lay a body, its chest still fluttering with life but mostly torn to shreds. Great, bloody gashes had left the green apron in tatters, the skin’s intricate tattoos sundered to islands of nonsense. The girl’s red hair was now redder.
Though her skull was crushed, her pretty face nearly ripped off the bone, I knew immediately it was the girl from the juice shop.
My body tensed as I watched her chest cease its fluttering and the flow of blood slowed to a trickle. Soon, she was still as the rest of the street.
Then, suddenly, my heart was pounding again, as I realized I was not alone in the darkness. Something dark and massive was moving past the nearby bushes, watching me examine its kill.
Though it moved somewhat like a cat, the thing was far bigger, larger than any tiger I’d ever seen at the zoo. As it grew closer, I saw that it was standing on its hind legs, walking toward me, not quite like a person, but like an animal trying to mimic one.
I could barely breathe now. It was growing closer. Though it moved slowly, I could sense that it could cover the ten feet between us in a moment, far faster than I could slam the door.
“Please,” I said… “Don’t…”
As the creature walked into a slant of moonlight, I realized that it was dressed in a tuxedo. Or were those just the colors of its fur?
“My queen, I would never,” the creature purred, in a low voice. “I live only to serve you.”
I looked down at the dead girl by my feet. I would have to call the police, I knew. I would have to scream for Saito to come and help. There would be so much to explain. But I wasn’t afraid now. That moment had passed. I was here with a friend.
“James?” I asked, and he nodded ever so slightly. “You can’t do this,” I said. “I didn’t want this.”
“But she was so cruel to you,” said James. “She called you a very nasty name. I was hiding a few blocks away, but I heard everything. My ears are very sensitive.”
“But you can’t just kill people,” I said, trying to stuff my growing panic into my stomach. “It’s not… it’s not right.”
“Of course I can,” said James. “In fact, I must. It’s my nature.”
“Never again,” I whispered.
James cocked his head, looking me in the eyes. What was he looking for?
“I could stop if you order it,” he said. “Though that would be unfortunate. You know I love to honor you with gifts. I always have. But go ahead. Make the command and I will disappear, never to leave you another present again.”
I looked down at the dead girl, all torn to shreds. There was a certain beauty in it, like a stained glass window, sublime in its brokenness.
“Just say the word,” James said again.
But I didn’t.
“Thank you,” I finally said, bending to look closer at the dead girl. “For the gift.”
“It was but a trifle, my queen,” said the thing. “Until next time.”
And then, bowing slightly, he backed away and bounded into the darkness.
submitted by scarymaxx to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 20:12 Violet-Flowersss Maxi-Challenge 9: Results

Maxi-Challenge 9: Results
Queens, welcome back from the final challenge. You should all be very proud of yourselves for making it this far, and for the work and growth you all have shown. Sadly, only four of you will be moving on to the finale. Now, on to the critiques.
Tracy Martel: Tracy, you had some great ideas, but the execution fell a little short in all three of your looks. Starting with your storytime look, it’s probably my favorite of the storytime reading looks. It's the most kid-friendly and fun. This wig is absolutely perfect for a children’s storytime look, and I’m sure the recoloring took some time, but it was so worth it. Recoloring the polka dots on the dress was also probably time-consuming, and I love that you went that extra mile. I think if the background of the dress was either white or black, the dots would have stood out more. The darker blue and purple dots fade into the gray dress, making that side of the dress look drabber than it should. I also wish the shoes weren’t grey; they didn’t have to be rainbow, but the gray is just kind of dreary compared to the colorfulness of the rest of the look. The mug is nice, a bigger smiler might have been nicer, but it's still good as-is. As for you fairytale looks, I appreciate that you went for a darker fairytale. This is more Grimm Brothers than Disney, and I definitely wasn’t expecting that. I love the idea of a good character becoming corrupted by the bad character, but I think the execution could have been altered to better fit the challenge prompt. I would have loved if you had shown me what Lady Martel looked like before all the alterations. Even just making her clothing a different color than gray would have made her look more clearly the ‘good’ character look and fit the challenge prompt better. As for the look itself, the editing here is really stunning. I love the pink flowers, those are really the only hint that this is the ‘good’ look. The bright colors in the patchwork helps, although they don’t really make sense. Raven also already did a patchwork human look during the Incuntstrial Revolution challenge, so I would’ve liked to have seen you do something differently with it. Since in your story, you described Lady Martel as stealing parts from other queens, I would have really enjoyed it if you had literally taken pieces from past looks. The different skin tones and body types would have been really disturbing and striking. I like the gold glittering shoes, they’re very pretty. I would have liked if the glittering effect was added to the gold belt, especially since it was added to the end of the needle. The idea here is really fantastic, but the execution itself doesn’t fully portray the story you told. Your third look is very smart. I love that the majority of the look is silver, reflecting purity, and just the bottom is black, showing the mirror’s true nature. I also love the reflective gleams on the outfit, it makes it look like she’s in a mirror more. What kind of ruins the illusion is the frame. The frame should be completely over her, but there are parts where she is over the frame, specifically the wig and left hand. If you really didn’t want to cut any part of her off, the frame should just be bigger. As for the look itself, its a bit messy. The two skirts don’t flow together; I can’t see them being one piece without the frame. The overlapping layers of the white skirt also become extra messy when combined with the shawl on the top. A solid skirt would have blended with the bottom skirt part more and paired with the top(s) better. The mug here is perfect, though, it clearly conveys judgment, which aligns with your story. I also like the idea of the figure in the mirror being beautiful and glamorous - everything Lady Martel wants to be. Again, the idea is great, but the execution isn't fully there, and that can be said about all three of your looks.
Orchid Mitchell: Orchid, across the board, your looks are solid, but don’t feel particularly inventive and don’t stand out to me. Starting with your storytime reading look, it’s cute, although I don’t know how much I love it for a children’s storytime reading. It is very similar to Tracy’s 1970s look (which I did realize before it was pointed out) and doesn’t feel particularly inventive, even ignoring the similarities between the two looks. I like that you matched the top to the teal in the side panels, it works really well with the brown pants. If it was a little brighter, that would’ve brightened up the look more and fit the fun, children’s theme more. The mug is really what takes me out of the idea of it being a look for a children’s storytime reading. The eyes make her look judgey, and the lips make her look unhappy. A different facial expression could have sold me on this look. Your second look is very beautiful and clearly reads as a ‘good’ look. This dress in white is something I never knew how badly I needed; it's beautiful. I would’ve liked to have seen some gold accents incorporated into the dress to tie into the gold crown and scepter. If the belt and necklace were gold, that would’ve been extra stunning. The positioning of the scepter is perfect, with the scepter under the thumb but above the rest of your hand, so it really looks like she’s holding it (albeit weirdly, but I don’t really care). I also love the scepter you choose, it matches the crown perfectly. Her mug is great, it really conveys kindness and joy. Storywise, there’s not much of an interesting concept beyond the fact that she is the ‘good’ princess. Overall, this look is very pretty, but it could have been elevated a bit more. The ‘bad’ character look clearly conveys that she is evil, and I like this color combo. Black and red is the more predictable choice, so I appreciate that you went for gray instead. Its very sparkly, though, which is an odd choice for an evil character. The dress is actually more sparkly than your good character’s dress. I would’ve liked it if you’d either dulled the sparkle in this look or made your ‘good’ look more sparkly. Along that same line, I don’t see a family resemblance between your two characters, which I wouldn’t care about if you hadn’t made them sisters. In your redemption challenge, you were able to make looks with your teammates that had a family resemblance, so I am a bit disappointed that there’s not much of a resemblance here. The dresses have a similar shape, but are otherwise very different, and there’s no other similarities here (that I can tell). I like the crown on the chest, it adds to the royal story, while also showing that she doesn’t actually have the crown. The mug works perfectly for this look, and I appreciate that you made the gem on the wig red instead of blue. The shoes match color-wise, although I don’t know what royal would wear lace-up heels. The tights are a nice touch too. They look better than bare skin would have, but I would’ve liked if they were solid black instead of polka dots, since polka dots aren’t anywhere else. It's a very pretty look overall, but again, there’s not much interesting storywise other than she’s the evil sister. I know you can be very creative, so I wish that creativity had shown in both your story and your looks.
Absynthe: Absynthe, you made really smart and creative choices, and that showed in every one of your looks. When I realized you made your story rhyme, I got so excited. You did not have to actually write a children’s book, and you did, and it’s so good!! It's so impressive, and that’s the extra mile I love to see. For your first look, I love that you incorporated your childhood into this challenge. I haven’t read this book, so I’m glad you added a reference pic. Your look is pretty accurate to Strega Nonna, and I’m sure kids would love to see a storybook character come to life. I would’ve liked if you had used light blue instead of dark green as your accent, for one thing, it would’ve been closer to the reference image and it would’ve lightened up the look more. But I do understand the red and green make the Italian flag, another nod to your heritage that I appreciate, I just would’ve liked the look to be lightened a bit to marry your concept with a children’s theme. Overall, though, all the pieces work well together to imitate Strega Nonna and I really love the idea you had. Moving on to your second look, I literally gasped when I saw it. Like, literally, I was scrolling, not realizing you’d posted it, gasped, and scrolled back up to look at it. A story about bees is so creative, and I immediately knew this was your good character from the shape and color, even though bees aren’t always necessarily good (I, for one, hate bees). This look is so beautiful as well. It’s simple, but so complex in the many ways it’s so great. To start, using shadows to make the lines on the dress instead of black lines was so smart. Black would’ve brought down the lightness in those looks, which is part of why it is so effective as a ‘good’ look. The same applies to the shoes - a higher level of the Golden Girl shoes would’ve added too much black to the look. The editing here is perfect, and I especially love the little flecks of gold on your legs. The combination of wigs works so well for a bee look, while still being elegant and beautiful. The feathers work better than solid antennae as they reflect the softness of the tulle in the dress, whereas solid antennae might have been too heavy. The mug is also fantastic - I don’t particularly love these lips but they’re great for a bee look. I love how clearly this look conveys a bee, while still being fun and draggy. Your third look is just as stunning as your second look. I’m obsessed with the idea of a dandelion being the villain. I didn’t immediately get dandelion, but once I read your story, I understood that. If the poof around your head was sparser, or if some of the details were yellow, I think I would’ve gotten dandelion quicker. I love the editing and recoloring you did; darkening the green items was really smart to help convey that this is a ‘bad’ character. I do wish you had changed the colors from black to either green or made them match the accents in the skirt, or added black somewhere else in the outfit. I did notice the reflection on the thorns is green, though, so I appreciate that detail. Combining the two different levels of the skirts was another smart choice you made; the max level of this skirt would’ve been too busy. I would’ve liked it if you made the purple yellow - purple is more associated with evil, but yellow accents would’ve helped me get the dandelion story quicker. It also would’ve tied into the gold sparkle on the top. These small details don’t detract from the look too much, they're just small ideas for improvement. All in all, amazing work this challenge.
Btch: Btch, all three of your looks were ok, but lacked the creativity I know you can bring. For your first look, I am very happy you resubmitted, this resubmission is a marked improvement. Its cute, if very simple, but it feels less than inspired, considering Tracy used the same dress for her storytime look. Since it is so simple, there’s less for me to critique. I do really like the red though, even though Goldilocks is normally in blue, I think the red works well. The headpiece is what really makes this look appropriate for children, I’m sure kids would love those ears. I would’ve liked if the wig was darker; the lighter color matches bears’ fur, but a darker brown would’ve stood out more. What really bothers me is the mug. It is kind of freaky how big her smile is and how dead her eyes are. A different eye could have sold me on these lips, or vice versa. It’s a nice look, but at this point, it's not enough. Your second look is very pretty, but it has a few issues. I did not realize she was meant to represent dreams, and I had to read your story several times to get that. Softer shapes, like clouds or something similar, would have conveyed that better. I don’t think this dress was the best choice for this concept as its very, for lack of a better word, busy and has many sharp, angled shapes. I’m very happy to see you step out of your comfort zone and recolor your skin, I know you don’t love doing that, but I love seeing people push out of their comfort zone and it is very effective here. I also love the recoloring on the shoes and the sparkles, the sparkles, in particular, add some joy and wonder to this look. The recoloring on the dress itself is nice, but I would have liked for the black edges to be made even lighter. I don’t understand the recoloring choice you made for the wig, since its blue and not purple like the rest of your look, and there’s no blue anywhere else in the look. The original blonde would have worked better, or even a different color that’s brighter and lighter. I like the mug, I think these eyes are very whimsical and fun, and the lips add to her joyous deposition. If the lips were outlined in a darker color, they would’ve stood out more; they kind of blend in as-is. I think you had a really great idea here, but the execution fell short. For your third look, I immediately got that it was your ‘bad’ character, but I did not get that she is the evil queen of darkness. This look is very plain, and a lot more could have been done to amp it up and more clearly convey the concept. For example, you could have used the purr shoes maxed out and made the smoke black. Or even the shawl from the star power dress would’ve added something extra. The combination of the two dresses is flawless, it very much looks like one dress. I would have liked some accent color between the wrapping on the top part of the dress so they were clearer, and it also would’ve added something extra to this look. The mug here is great, its perfect for an evil look and I especially love that the whole eye is black. I don’t think it was necessary to make the headpiece darker, but I do like it. However, I think a bigger hair would’ve been more effective. A big, black wig would have looked like she had a void behind her, and further sold the idea that she is the darkness. Everything in this look is cohesive, but at this point in the competition, it's far too plain. For your last challenge, I needed more from all three looks.
Liz Onya: Liz, I can see you put a lot of thought into all of your looks, and they all turned out stunning. Also, you get major props for making four looks when you only needed to make three (especially since you were so unhappy about another ball!). You are the only queen who chose to read your original story for the storytime reading, and I love that you did that. I was actually hoping someone would. The first look is very fitting for reading the story you wrote. It draggy, but not too over the top. I kinda hate this color combo, but that’s a personal preference, and it is very bright and fun. I’m very happy you covered up her chest - that low cut would not have been appropriate for a children’s reading. The hair fits the dress and vibe, but it clips poorly with the collar. Even when full editing is not allowed, that’s something to pay attention to. I love that you chose glasses for this look, you are the only one who did that and it makes perfect sense for a book-reading look. I’m not in love with the lips, though, as they make her look unhappy. At the very least, I would have liked the purple outline changed to gold or green since there isn’t purple anywhere else in the look. These are small details thought, and overall, this is a very solid look. As for your ‘good’ character look, I am actually obsessed with your fairy godmother. It's just so stunning. This pink is such a good color on you, and it marries so well with gold. It looks old-timey, fitting a fairytale, but still magical and modernized. And really, its just fun. This top works really well this this skirt, and the circle arm bands add an extra level of magic here. I would have liked if the upper armband on the right arm was removed since the left one doesn’t have that same band, and nothing else is asymmetric about your look, but it isn’t too distracting. The wings are really beautiful, I love the faint patterning on them and the pink border, which helps define them without taking away from the gold. The shoes might be my favorite part, the astral projection shoes might just be my favorite in the whole game, but I really love the combination with the tights. Adding glitter to your chest was another great addition, it ties into the skirt too. I like this wig for the look, although the crown gets lost in the hair. If either the wig or crown was darker or more saturated, it would have stood out more. The mug is cute, if a bit harsh for the fun vibe here. This is probably my favorite look out of all the ‘good’ character looks - incredible job. Moving on to your two bad looks, the concept here is really fantastic. I love a villain that makes you think she's a good person at first. The pre-transformation look is a bit basic, but effective for the story you were telling. I like that you added a necklace to this dress, it definitely needs it. I also greatly appreciate that you recolored the hair accessories, I know from personal experience that’s not easy with this wig. The birds are really cute, I love how bright and colorful they are, and as I mentioned previously, I love the tie-in with the pink swirls to the fairy godmother look. That small detail really solidifies the connection across the two looks. I think a softer mug might have made her look nicer, she’s very beautiful but she doesn’t look particularly extra kind. But, the coloring of the dress does make her look sweet enough for me. As for the post-transformation look, I would have liked to have seen a bigger difference besides the added swirls and color change. The swirling background is beautiful, and it does clearly convey that this is your ‘bad’ character. I really love the dark streaks in the wig, it shows how corrupted she’s become, and adds another difference between the two looks. In the pre-transformation look, I thought the makeup could look nicer, whereas here, I think it could go even meaner. Since she’s now corrupted and evil, I would’ve loved a devious facial expression. I do really like that her eyes are green here though. The recoloring on the dress is very pretty, but if the edges were black, that would’ve been really striking and tied into the hair. I love that you didn’t make the necklace entirely green, though, that would’ve been overpowering. While I would’ve liked to have seen more differences between the two looks, this look still does a very effective job of showing her transformation through the added background and color story. All three of your looks are amazing - great work Liz.
Absynthe, your looks created quite a buzz! You are safe, and you will be moving on to the finale.
Liz Onya, your looks cast a spell on me! Condragulations, you are the winner of this challenge, and you will be moving on to the finale as well.
Tracy Martel, your execution needed improvement, but your creativity reflected in all three looks. For that, you… are safe, and you will be moving on to the finale.
That means, Orchid Mitchell and B*tch, I am sorry my loves, but both of you are up for elimination. You two will now looksync for your life, and one of you will move on to the finale, and the other will sashay away.
submitted by Violet-Flowersss to MissFiggysDragRace [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 19:45 kawapawa [RF] Twister

Short story I wrote for a writing prompt in writingprompts that I enjoyed. Wanted to share. would love feedback.
Thank you for reading :)
Twister
The knuckles of John’s left hand were squeezed white against the wheel of his old pick-up; he held his son, Alex, close with his other.
As they rattled down the uneven country roads, rain pelted their windshield with a fury. John continually glanced into the rearview. Thunder clapped at their back like the hands of god, and through the white flashes of lightning, he could make out a large barrel of rotating black smoke. Each time he looked back it seemed to have grown larger, and one singular thought repeated in his mind.
Make it to the cellar, he thought. Make it to the cellar.
He gripped his son tighter. He pressed the accelerator with a heavy foot, and the truck roared beneath them.
“Come on…” He muttered. He was driving nearly eighty.
“Dad?” Alex’s voice was small, and John could feel him trembling under his arm.
John rubbed his shoulder. “It’s okay, bud. We’re nearly there; it ain’t gonna get us.” He said it, but he wasn’t sure if he believed the words himself.
“But Dad, I’m scared.”
Just then, a strong gust of wind punched the side of the truck, nearly sending it swerving into the ditch. With a squealing effort, John steadied it and accelerated faster. The boy had buried his head into John’s armpit. Limbs began falling from trees; scattered debris had carpeted the roads.
John looked down at his son, who was still wearing his blue Little League uniform and shaking with sobs. All of this for a damn baseball game, he thought, and looked back at the road. He stomped the brakes. Alex screamed as they lurched forward and John stuck an arm out to keep him from flying into the windshield. The truck skidded sideways to a halt on the wet road. A giant oak tree, maybe eight feet in diameter, lay flat across their path.
“Fuck.” John muttered as he smacked the steering wheel with his palm. There wasn’t any getting around that. He darted his eyes around, looking for some sort of a solution—anything—but all he found was fear. The swirling column of dark wind was getting closer and seemed much larger than before.
Through the darkness, John thought he could see the far-off flickering of the nightlight in front of their house. They were closer than he thought.
He grabbed Alex by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “We’re gonna make a run for it.”
“What?” Alex asked, his eyes wide with terror.
“I know, bud, but it’s our only shot. I—“
“No!” Alex shouted and tried to say more, but the words just sputtered out in incoherent globs.
“Hey,” John said patiently, but Alex was in hysterics and still rambling nonsense. John looked over his shoulder. Power lines were beginning to fall, and the transformers were popping into big blue sparks as they hit the ground. He looked back at Alex.
“HEY!” He shouted.
Alex stopped immediately and looked at him in surprise. John never yelled.
“Do you trust me?” John asked.
Alex moved his mouth, but no breath came to push the words out.
“Do you trust me?” John asked again, shaking the boy a little.
This time, Alex nodded yes.
“Okay, now listen, I’m going to pick you up, and we’re gonna run. I want you to close your eyes, and I don’t want you to open them again until I tell you it’s okay. Do you understand?”
The boy nodded again, and a tear fell down his cheek as he closed his eyes.
John scooped him up and creaked the metal door open into the rain. Lightning continued to pop overhead; there was a metallic smell in the air, like burning wires, and the humidity was thick enough to choke a man.
John held the boy's head against his shoulder and started in a sort of half run to the driveway. Alex felt heavier than he used to, and it made John wonder just how long ago it was since he’d held him that way.
Cold rain whipped at their back, sticking their clothes to their skin like slick velcro. John spat the water from his mouth as he trudged forward blindly in the dark. His muscles started to burn. His feet snagged on branches, trash, and other debris that had blown in, threatening to trip him, and sudden dips or rises staggered him as his foot met only air where he expected solid earth.
John could feel the boy sobbing once more. “We’re almost there, bud; we’re gonna make it.” This time, he really believed what he said. The driveway came into view as they rounded the last corner. Limbs the size of cedar trees blew past them like confetti. One cracked John in the back of the head, sending him and Alex tumbling onto the ground. The pain was brilliant. For a moment, he saw white, but his vision quickly cleared, and he looked up at Alex.
Alex sat with his knees tucked to his chest, holding a scrape. His skin and clothes were covered in twigs, mud, and pine needles, and his face was twisted with fright—contorted like one of those dramatic masquerade masks as he rocked back and forth. His eyes were open now.
The twister roared behind them like a gasoline truck chugging uphill. John scrambled to his feet, scooped Alex in his arms, and started toward the house once again. His head was pounding, his muscles were on fire, blood was thudding against his ears, and that same thought from earlier continued to swim laps around his mind.
Make it to the cellar.
He pressed on, planting one solid foot into the ground at a time, marching forward like a well oiled machine.
Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked down the driveway; wind whipped their wet clothes like flags.
John shed Alex from his arms and looked down at the wooden cellar door. He tried pulling it open, but the wind shoved it back down. It was picking up even more now. Shingles began to be sucked from the roof, and John knew that if he didn’t get this door open, he and Alex would follow closely behind.
He pulled as hard as he could, grunting with the effort. Alex had joined him in pulling at this point, helping as much as a nine-year-old possibly could. It began to come up a little, but the wind was powerful. John screamed and dug in harder. His muscles tore beneath his skin, his bones popped, he used every single ounce of himself now, and the door started to give. Once he’d gotten it halfway, the wind swung it the rest and it smacked the other side of the ground with a sound that resembled a gunshot.
“GET IN,” John shouted and grabbed Alex’s arm. He threw the boy inside, then jumped in closely behind. He didn’t even bother shutting the door; he just ran and pulled Alex to the opposite side of the room with him.
The cellar was dark. Screws and bolts and toolboxes filled with wrenches and other metal things shook and rumbled off of the shelves. A few baseball bats fell, clattered, and clinked across the concrete floor. Up top, it sounded like a giant lawnmower was making quick work of the farmhouse, eating it up like it was little more than a stray blade of grass. John could feel warm blood trickling down the back of his neck.
They held each other in the darkness, sitting there for what seemed like an eternity, but just as quickly as it began, it was over. The roar lessened, quieted, then disappeared as it got further away.
The two looked at each other, both covered in dirt and debris, and John knew that everything was gone. He knew the house was gone; he knew the farm was gone, and he knew that just about everything else he had ever worked for was torn to shreds in a matter of minutes. He looked at Alex, and when he looked upon his son’s face and saw the twinkle of life in his eye, he breathed a sigh of relief. That was all that mattered.
They sat for an hour in silence, not daring to step out until they were sure it was safe. A ray of light began to beam through the cellar door. John stood first. He walked to the opening and shielded his squinted eyes to look outside.
The sky was… blue. He hoisted himself upward and poked his head out of the cellar like a gopher. His barn was there. Bessie, his cow, was standing beside it, chewing on a mouthful of grass; the chickens strutted around the side of the barn, nearing the garden, which also looked untouched; the squash was even blooming. Behind him, their house stood tall, perfectly intact all the way up to the shingles. The oddest thing, though, was his farm pickup parked in the driveway—no worse shape than when they left for the ballgame.
John scratched his head.
“Dad?” Alex shouted.
“You can come up.” He said, puzzled.
Alex crawled out of the cellar in the same fashion as his father, and confusion dawned on his face as well.
“It missed us?”
John shook his head. “No way it coulda missed us. I don’t really know what to make of it.”
He really didn’t. They saw the twister coming directly at them; they heard the house ripped to shreds right above their heads; the farm truck didn’t make it back to the house at all, for Christ's sake. It just didn’t make any damn sense.
A feminine voice called out to them—a voice John recognized at the first syllable. “John? Alex?”
“Vick..” He mouthed and whipped his head around. A tall woman with blonde hair was walking around the side of the porch, stepping as gracefully as a doe. Her eyes were green as the pines behind her, and she gave a smile that held more reassurance than a million words could express.
She spread her arms wide. “My boys.” She said. John stood motionless, his mouth slightly agape. Alex pushed past him as he ran, “Mommy!” He shouted.
The woman wrapped the boy in a hug and lifted him from his feet. As she held his head against her shoulder, she pointed her eyes in John’s direction and held out her other hand.
He walked toward her, cautiously.
“John.” She said. “It’s me, I promise.”
John looked at her for a moment longer. He wanted to run to her, to wrap her up and lift her the same way she did Alex. For the past two years, there had been nothing in this world that he’d wanted more.
But his wife was dead. He watched as the cancer took her in 2014; he held her in his arms as she died in the hospital bed, and helped hoist her into the ground afterwards. Now she stood before him—healthy and as real as the sun beating down on his neck.
He reached a hand to the back of his head, feeling for the place where the branch whacked him. There was nothing—not even a tender spot.
He looked back up at his wife. “Are we…”
“Shhhh, dont think about it like that, John.” She smiled, “We’re together now, just be happy.”
John staggered a little, staring down at his hands; his once farm hardened callouses were gone now, smoothed over with soft, healthy skin.
“I—“ He began.
“Get over here and hug me.”
He looked up; his wife looked back at him lovingly with her direct, green eyes, and for the first time in so long, he felt happy. A feeling he’d grown a stranger to. A grin tightened across his face, and he watched as his old golden retriever ran panting toward him from across the yard just like she used to, only now, she had all four of her legs.
submitted by kawapawa to shortstories [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 19:40 Harpokiller 'Fiù 's tusa?' (Hirk’s death and Crimson Paragon fight 2/2)

/uw This is a continuation of the first post which I will tag in the comments, once again I apologise in advance for length as well.
Hirk: “I offer you one chance to kill yourself. After that I might just have to do it for you.”
Hirks words are serious and cold, behind every word there is the threat that this is a mercy and it refused, he will do it himself.
Jean: “fine.” Jean incinerates herself, until not even ash remains.
After Jean dies an announcement is made shortly after over the speakers.
"ALL IMMORTALITY SAFEGUARDS HAVE BEEN LIFTED."
Safi: “You'll have to earn that my friend.”
Maximilian slowly walks closer to Hirk. “Make me.”
there's not a hint of regret in his eyes. He wants Hirk to deliver the blow.
Hirk’s arm in a single moment moves and connects to Maximilians stomach, ribs break but not killed only sent into a nearby wall.
“Poor choice.”
Hirk is fuelled by pure rage in his voice. He fully blocks the door.
Maximilian: “Tsk. Didn't think I'd be dueling my best man before the wedding.”
After he says this he spits out some blood, still confident and stubborn in his belief even after taking a hit from the Demi-Giant.
Nhak: “If you can kill me…”
“Then I implore you to do so…”
He spreads his arms and wings acceptingly… as if begging…
“I beg you to make it hurt.”
Hirk attempts to throw a needle of thing rock through Nhaks eye hole in his helmet with a flick of his wrist.
Parts of it break on the edges of his eyehole in his armour as he makes no attempt to stop it overrun by his guilt. There is now a stone needle poking through his helm not fully certain where it hit under that golden helm.
Aoi: “I think you should calm down, boy.” Aoi then proceeds to try to grab Hirk’s arm
Hirk shrugs off the attempt and before any further can be made someone intervenes.
Noticing direct conflict starting to break out, there is barely a blur as Hirk notices Gonkgar in front of him. Even as tall as Hirk is, Gonkgar stares down at him. He tries to grab Hirk by both of his wrists, making sure to not hurt him.
Hirk flicks his hands nudging them away, he is focused on his duty.
Zeroth: :Shutting down all defense systems:
Elize the Siren starts singing her song, making Hirk's mind filled with discord.
Edjar(?): "HIRK! STAND DOWN! THE GODS HAVE SPOKEN. I WAS GRANTED DIVINE RIGHT TO OVERSEE TRIAL AND EXECUTION!"
Rachnia: “I am sorry, Hirk. Spirit whisper.”
She proceeds to shoot out an ethereal purple string enchanted with domination magic as it begins to work its way up his nervous system through his spine to his brain and then soul.
“No-one. and I mean. NOONE. Hurts Max in front of me. Not even you Hirk!”
The lights outside all go dark, and Zeroth switches to Emergency power mode.
Hirk is glowing with the erratic wild rays of fire, emitting a partially dim light from under his skin.
Hirk resists the attempt of domination against his mind, but his mental fortitude built of hatred and fire is being chipped away by it.
“Stand back. Or else.”
Gonkgar is pushed away for the moment, at first only attempting to stop Hirk. But now sees another opportunity
"Okay. Me see how it go."
Gonkgar pulls a fist back and punches immediately, a shockwave of air from the sheer speed of his punch. He aims for Hirk's chest.
The punch connects, there is a loud sound of bones cracking and skin being heavily bruised and bloodied. But he still stands in the doorframe refusing to move, his body will break before he does.
A fourth voice joins the amalgation that is Ejdar right now, high and commanding, but compassionate.
"My Executioner will end you if you lay another hand on anyone here. You will be put RIGHT BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM!"
Safi: “That will not be necessary.”
Ejder looks over at Safi. His darkened eye turns to the same silvery gold as the other. He gives Safi a respectful nod. There's a good chance that Ejder himself is not fully in control.
Lady Fortuna: “By Fate's weave... Your continued charge... Ends.”
Kyoko appears from behind Hirk after hearing the commotion
“What's going on here?”
Nhak with a gigantic needle sticking through his ghostly helm Immediately tackles Kyoko to the ground and out if the way of any fighting… shielding the two of them with his spectral wings…
Eliza siren's song is that of pain and suffering, one that was often heard at sea to crash ships. Despite the noises of fire dancing inside Hirk’s mind the song still acts as a wind disrupting the fire even if it is not fully quelled
the soulfire burns bright, Ali’s scars are almost at full brightness already. “You do not, get to touch him again.”
She punches Hirk straight in the chest at full force.
Hirk feels the second blow to his chest, there is not a noise of cracking this time as it can be assumed there was nothing left to crack as his skin goes loose from the muscles being pulverised by both attacks he’s took head on. Having to rely on his arms holding him upright by grasping at the doorframe to not fall limp. There is no response still.
Max: “Hirk. Do not. Try to hit me again.” He takes a swig from a regenerative brew.
Safi: “You asked him to do it”
Max: “Eh, expected better from my best man than to actually go through with this foolish move.”
Hirk finally after catching his thoughts which he lost from the beating he took by only two punches and Rachnia’s attempt to dominate his mind finally replied to Edjar(?), speaking less from the air in him and more the crackling of the fire inside.
“Where I came from? My home is gone. The very realm burned to ash. There is nothing left. I have nowhere to go back to.”
It is clear Hirk is not himself or he is now his true self which he hide under a scarf, sweater and broken promises. He makes one mutter afterwords with his breath this time rather than his fire to Aoi.
“Go. I do not wish to kill you, you were not involved.*
Aoi: “You really fucking think... I'm going to let you kill Max?”
Sarah: “Yeah, how about fucking no.”
Rachnia: “Over my cold, dead, body.”
there is a eattling of a snakes tail grows louder, an ever growing sense of foreboding.
"HIRK" Jean's voice booms loudly throughout the entire area. "IF YOU THINK THAT ANYONE SHOULD DIE HERE, COME AT ME! I DESERVE IT MORE THAN ANYONE IN FUCKING EXISTENCE!"
She is holding both Tartarus's and 0's cores in her hands
Hirk does not respond. But there is a hint of hesitation in his eyes.
Jean: "I TORTURED THAT BASTARD FOR 10 QUADRILLION YEARS. I'D SAY THAT MAKES ME THE WORST ONE HERE!"
A flaming knife gets thrown at Jean by Hirk, he aims directly for the heart hoping to make it quick as a mercy.
Ari: “Stop this needless fighting, this isn't going solve anything”
Ari attempts to block the knife with vines but the few that reach it in time are cut through and scared by charred marks
Jean takes the knife square in her chest. Without the immortality safeguards in place, her shards fall helplessly to the ground
Steam appears from Hirk’s eyes, he does not stop his savage duty despite clear grief at his own actions.
Gonkgar: "Only thing that matter is no one else hurt."
Gonkgar clenches both of his fists. He goes to grab Hirk's arms, and there's a glint that sparks in his eyes.
A glint that emerges and starts to travel down his body. Different from his Ultra Instinct... Stranger, perhaps. Nhak recognizes it as a modicum of a power Gonkgar once held. The juggernaut power, gifted by the God-Slaver, that made it impossible to stop Gonkgar's advance.
At that, he attempts to start pushing Hirk out of the doorway.
Ari begins to cause vines to grow around everyone except Gonkgar.
Cerne pointers her blade straight at Hirk, her daggers fly above her head.
“Not, a, step, closer, to, Max.”
Ejdar(?) shouts over to Ari after feeling their legs become tangled in them.
"Ari, Don't. You know what happened last time you restrained Ejder with those vines."
" Mo chionta. Mo chreach. Bròn."
Hirk suddenly bursts into flames, the metals surrounding him behind to melt even slightly. His skin is flaking off in embers. The vines at his feet and others nearby him burn.
Hirk has made a deal, his blood boils. His body nothing more than kindling, no pain, no feelings of his own. Even death has lost its meaning other than knowing it will be soon.
Gonkgar shattered Hirk’s bones, joints and muscles with his might. But yet Hirk stood with only one arm giving in as he still refuses to move. Inside he glows a blinding green as his body could never keep up with it without outside intervention from his ‘soul’
With Hirk now throughly on fire approaching temperatures fire should not be allowed to reach. Most without decent fire resistant would be getting hurt inside the room and around him.
Fire erupting from Hirk douses over Gonkgar's body, singing at his immensely durable skin. Even so, his burned palms grip with unbreakable might. He watches Jean fall, and Max.
"No..."
Glorg phases out of his back, looking at Gonkgar with wide eyes before pulling at his shoulders. A memory flashes behind Gonkgar's eyes. The powerlessness as his friend was killed long ago. The reason he trained in the first place... Was it vengeance? Or was it to protect those he loved? Even when he gained the power to fight gods, he could not protect his friends.
The glint of Juggernaut enshrouds his body, but something is off... His body is no longer resisting the flames. He is engulfed with heat, skin melting away. He doesn't let go of Hirk, trying to pull him back... Protect anyone. Protect *anyone...*
A symbol manifests on Gonkgar's forehead. He screams and lets go of Hirk. Gonkgar falls to his knees, burning... This level of attack should not have been enough to phase him so... And yet the fires enshrouding him grow stronger on their own, not by Hirk's command.
Edjar(?): "If that man thinks what they were doing was torture, he knows nothing. And I watched his punishment."
Upon those words being said a chain of fire appears behind and wraps around Ejdar’s neck. It does not do anything other than burn them a bit.
Ari realises what Hirk is doing and runs off with the shards and cores
:ARI. PLEASE PUT US BACK DOWN.:
“Can you stop this fighting?”
:NO. THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN STOP THIS IS HIRK HIMSELF.:
Ari: “I'm afraid I'll just have to take you to a safe place than”
she is trying to navigate to the core room
:ARI. WAIT.:
“What is it?”
:IT IS POINTLESS. JEAN SMASHED THE CONSOLE WHEN SHE PULLED ME OUT. SOMETHING WAS CONTROLLING HER.:
“I can try to repair it.”
:BEFORE YOU DO, WE NEED TO HELP JEAN. SHE REMOVED ME FOR A GOOD REASON, WHILE SHE WAS STILL IN HER RIGHT MIND.:
“we can restore here with things that match her attributes right.”
:JEAN WON'T BE OK UNTIL HIRK HAS CALMED DOWN. SHE WAS BEING OVERWHELMED BY EVERYONE'S EMOTIONS, AND HIRK'S WERE CAUSING HER TO GO INSANE:
“so if i take her far from Hirk I could be able to restore her.”
:THAT WON'T WORK. SHE'S FORMED A SEMI-PERMANENT CONNECTION TO HIM, AND HIS EMOTIONS ARE FORCING IT ACTIVE:
Ari sets the cores and the shards down before returning
The Biomancer… Having assured Kyoko’s safety… Rises from the ground… turning once-more to meet Hirk…
Nhak: “Hirk.”
His voice is not a thundering yell… but a straight… genuine statement
“If killing is going to bring you peace…”
“Then Kill me.”
”Do it.”
“I will not resist… I will not stop you…”
“I will die… and come back again…”
“Over”
“And over.”
“And over again…”
“I will let you kill me in this room.”
“I will let you kill me outside…”
“I will let you do it over and over and over again for 759,673 thousand years, 3 months, 23 hours, 13 minutes and 3 seconds…”
“If that’s what’s going to deliver you peace…”
“I know my penance…”
“But I beg of you to spare the others…”
“They do not deserve an eternity like me…”
Hirk: “H-HOW MANY KILLS.”
Hirks voice is hard to make out as it’s spoken through the fire itself and its crackling. This time it sounds pained.
Nhak: “Me… none… the things I did to that woman are far worse than death… I will not hide that fact…”
“You… as many times as it takes to watch me die to satisfy your rage…”
“I have as long as time itself…”
“H-HOW MANY KILLS.”
Hirks voice is hard to make out as it’s overshadowed by the sound of fire.
Nhak: “Me… none… the things I did to that woman are far worse than death… I will not hide that fact…”
“You… as many times as it takes to watch me die to satisfy your rage…”
“I have as long as time itself…”
Max: “I am sorry. friend. But I am not fighting this battle. Not with you. You wanted me to kill myself? THEN HAVE IT YOUR WAY.” You see him take a swig of a potion.... his muscles bulge, his eyes grow bloodshot, his veins turn purple.... Lost Hope's Tonic.
He charges right at Hirk, Grabbing onto his shoulders. He stares him straight in the eyes. The panic, the torment, all of it doesn't matter. You do not see a glimmer of regret.
more beast than man, he has less than a minute alive. "Do you think, I have any intention to change things? to say I was wrong? No. I've done this for hundreds of years, and will do so for hundreds of years.”
“To protect those who cannot protect themselves. To shield those who were exploited. You must set an example. YOU MUST SHOW HOW THOSE WHO TERRORIZE THE WEAK ARE TREATED IN KIND.”
Now. You got what you wanted. Are, you, happy? His heart stops as he says his last words.
Hirk does not get a moment to respond until Max dies in front of him, he grits his teeth as more steam comes from his eyes but he does cool down as he shakes a bit.
Nhak runs over to Max
“Max… Max please…”
“Not like me… not like me…”
“Max…”
He holds the body tight
“June 20th…”
“You promised Max…”
“You promised her…”
“You promised us all…”
“And we were going to be there…”
“And you had the most wonderful ring for her…”
some tears runs down Hirk’s cheek before turning into steam.
Hirk: “Please. Just die, I don’t.*
Hirk can hardly even get his words out, hyperventilating on every word. There is less hatred in his voice as it is not filled with sorrow.
Nhak sits back against the wall… sheltering Max’s corpse from the flames… trying in vein to stop the heat as his hair and clothes begin to steam
A small, inconspicuous rift opens near Max's body, attempting to hide behind Nhak. Talios peeks his head out.
"Nhak. I will keep his body safe until revival. You can come with if you'd like, although don't stop touching me... Even though you're a ghost, the sure-hit effect may damage you still."
Sarah walks up to Nhak. “Don't... worry too much. I'll take you to see him... soon.”
Nhak lets go of the Corpse… letting Sarah and Talios handle it as they would…
Max’s body simply puffs into ash, with a small golden glimmer remaining, until it puffs away in a golden mist.
Talios: "Oh. Well then."
Sarah: “Don't forget... Zeroth isn't all that we have... Not since the gamble in the hells.”
Talios's head pops back into the rift, and it would close.
Nhak: “Promise he won’t be like me… you have to promise… you have to promise… you have to…”
He chokes on his words
Sarah: “He won't be. I promise you.”
Nhak tilts his head towards the heavens…
“Max… Max I promise… I’m going to protect her while you’re gone…”
“No harm is going to come to her…”
“And I’m going to make sure she’s ok…”
“I’m not going to let the universe take her away from you…”
“As mine was taken from me…”
“And you are going to get married…”
“And you are going to have that honeymoon…”
“She’s safe…”
“She’s safe…”
“Don’t be afraid…”
“I promise…”
Hirk’s other arm falls, his body looks to go mostly numb on hearing ‘Promise.’
Meanwhile Safi is way too calm given the current situation. They lean back in a chair. You don't know where it came from
Eliza’s song increases in volume, it places a heavier tax on everyone in the room. Hirk only gets angrier as intended.
She shifts her song, now that of sorrow, and death. A song used for executions... and for memorial.
Somehow, Kyoko is immune to the effects of the siren's song.
Ejder tilts his head, as if listening to something. A look crosses his face. He suddenly disappears.
Rachnia is still trying to make her way into Hirk's mind, getting closer, as he loses sanity. The further they delve the more Images of hatred and pain slash them like daggers as they attempt to go further.
She just sits through the pain of Hirk's counterattacks, she bores further through his defenses. She's getting oh so close to accessing his mind.
Memories of Hirk’s home and every little joy he had there acts to disorientate Rachnia. He has had someone in his mind before from some of the memories looking tampered with.
Aoi: “Everyone... get, the, fuck, out.”
Safi: “I don't intend to leave, and I don't think the rest of you can.”
Ari makes it back to where everyone is and uses vines to reach up behind Hirk
“Hirk you got to calm down, you're hurting all your friends. Look around you, Is this what you want.”
despite all the fire and overheating she attempts to put her hand on Hirk's shoulder, bracing for the pain
The fire burns Ari, but it cools down slightly to the touch. He is hesitating.
Hirk pays no attention almost as if he cannot feel it. His skin is gone on that part, only charring is left.
she still ands still keeping her hand on Hirk's shoulder
Hirk still does not notice.
you can see Nagisa’s tail slip under Hirk, pushing Ari backwards. "don't, he can't feel it..."
Eliza’s song of sorrows starts to reach it's climax. Sadness hangs in the room like a thick mist, her eyes are filled with tears.
Hirk shows some wincing sorrow in his eyes now.
Rachnia: seems to finally be out of the confusion, she's been set back a few steps, but continues.
All they see is fire. There is nothing else but yet it’s still his memory’s. Only burning
Rachnia powers through, incredibly angry.
She continues to bore further, trying to simply get a hold over Hirk's physical state instead of mental. “I just need him... calm...”
She tries to burrow beyond the memories. “Oh dear.... Hirk... I need to calm you down before things go wrong...” She makes one final push for the finish.
You see the tournament, His death at Paleo and his humiliation to Inferno. There is visible cracks around this memory. As you get closer you hear a voice. *”Stad”** you feel a desire to obey. It is not Hirk saying it.*
Rachnia: "Not until I get to the bottom... Not after this." she pushes right through.
A kind, compassionate, but stern voice speaks into Hirk's mind.
Ejdar(?): "Don't you think you've caused enough pain? Stop this madness, and show the rebirth that fire can create."
"The weeds have been burned. There is now room for the flowers to bloom. You can rest."
Aoi begins channeling the power of the Oni's Setting Sun to increase her own strength. “HIRK, COME TO YOUR SENSES, YOU KNUCKLEBRAINS.”
Another voice speaks to Hirk
:HIRK. JEAN HAD TO PULL US OUT OF OUR CONSOLES BECAUSE YOUR EMOTIONS WERE CAUSING HER TO FALL INTO MADNESS HERSELF, TO PREVENT THIS WORLD FROM KILLING IT'S INHABITANTS. PLEASE, COME TO YOUR SENSES:
Eliza sings final verse, A verse about the death of a lover, a death of a friend, the death of your entire world. In one vicious and hateful display of mockery to Hirk.
Hirks eardrums are completely burned away. But still his heart even as it is kindling right now, still feels pain.
A singular blade of fire comes at Rachnia, it’s different to Hirk’s chains, even more volatile and no refinement. It is the source, it is fire in its perfected state.
she sidesteps, both mentally and physically. "not this time. Not again. I'd make him sad again." She tries to grab into the very source.
There is only a singular stone in the centre. Burning hot and bright.
She winds her purple silk around it, before finally casting "Spirit Whisper"
Nhak Just sits there… motionless… arms as if he still had the body of his friend…still gazing at the heavens…
“I Promise… I promise…”
“I promise…”
“You two are going to get that happy ending…”
“I won’t let the world take from you what it took from me…”
“I promise you won’t end up like me…”
“Broken and violent and unstable…”
“I promise…”
“That the two of you will get the future I never had…”
“I cannot let anything like me ever happen again…”
“I can’t…”
“I’m sorry…”
He devolves once more into sobbing
The sheer unrelenting heat from interacting to the stone enough to begin melting the skin off of Rachnia, but the string does not burn fully.
"SPIRIT WHISPER. STAND DOWN, HIRK. KNEEL."
(https://youtu.be/6bg3YSxcRLo?si=pJYflBnJbJDQku_e)
Glorg looks at Gonkgar as he is burning on his knees. The Stand, acting on its own, starts trying to pat him down. It does nothing to dissuade the flames. It's almost as if Gonkgar is exuding his own flames now, with no amount of resistance to it as opposed to normally. These flames, however, do not spread as Hirk's would. They serve only to harm Gonkgar.
Glorg grabs Gonkgar by a shoulder and tries to lift his chin. The Stand, despite being unable to talk, looks petrified with worry. Gonkgar looks back up at him with a broken expression, and then looks beyond to the mayhem. There is a symbol on Gonkgar's forehead reminiscent of the one he obtained from the God-Slaver. Burning tears run down his face, eyes closed as he gives a sad smile to his long-dead friend Glorg.
"Me get it now..."
Glorg looks at him with astonishment, questioningly.
"It not matter what Gonkgar do... They always going to die."
Even as people make headway with Hirk's psyche, Gonkgar's has seen too many friends die on his watch for him to handle anymore.
"Gonkgar sorry, Glorg... Me give up."
Glorg screams as the fires intensify to a blinding white light around Gonkgar. Gonkgar doesn't know it, but his power has always been about belief. He was unstoppable because he believed himself unstoppable. He was strong because he believed he could become strong. His Stand ensured him of that. Now, as he believed himself worthy of death, or rather, as he *desired it, his Stand's power subconsciously turned on him...*
And Gonkgar disintegrated away to ash. Glorg, staring down, disappears with a steady waver.
There is an impossible thunder of the clap of wings…
Nhaks arm is around the string in an instant… feuled by the death of gonkgar… his form is a brilliant deep blue… where he treads there is ice…
The Sting smokes and steams…
Nhak’s ghost winces…
But the temperature is reduced… just barely enough to prevent any permanent damage…
“I’m… sorry…”
“Hirk…”
“But I can’t let you hurt her…”
”I promised him…”
Rachnia: “You... Need to realise what you are doing... Hirk... Just like you tried to punish the torturers... You became one yourself.”
“Do you see, just how slippery this slope is.”
”DO YOU UNDERSTAND, JUST HOW MUCH DAMAGE YOU'RE DOING.”
Hirk either upon seeing Gonkgar die. The one true innocent person here or Rachnias magic he falls to his knees. The fires dissipate as Hirk turns cold enough for frost to start forming on him. His head facing behind him, eyes pointed at Gonkgar the only one who he truly didn’t want to die.
The voice speaks in Hirk's head again. "Hirk, you are burning more than the weeds. You're destabilizing the forest."
“I do not need your agreement, Hirk. I do not need your.... pleasantries. I need you to realise what you are causing... You could have caused the collapse of the birch world.”
”THE END OF COUNTLESS CIVILISATIONS. THE DEATH OF EVERYONE YOU CARE ABOUT. THE DEMISE OF INSURMOUNTABLE EFFORT. YOU ALMOST DOOMED EVERYTHING. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
Hirk pays no full attention to anyone. Either because he cannot hear, feel or truly do anything in his charred state. He only looks at his scarf, it is charred and much of it is ash now. Only barely wearable. His promise.
For the first time since hirk met Rachnia, there's no kindness towards him in her eyes. There's spite, despair, and anger.
”DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOUR LITTLE TRIP OF JUSTICE NEARLY COST EVERYONE?! YOU SPEAK DOWN TO US, BUT ALL YOU ARE, IS A FILTHY HYPOCRITE.”
Hirk can only mouth 1 thing not even being able to speak it as he coughs up ash. He pulls his scarf close to him
’I am Sorry.’
Rachnia disconnects from Hirk entirely.
“I'm going to check on Max... on the Ironsides. Nhak, you're joining me. He needs someone he can TRUST right now.”
Sarah follows behind Rachnia, carring Eliza in her hands.
There is a crunch of metal as he tears the thorn violently from his head
“Yes Ma’m.”
He Instantly follows suit
Ari returns to the shards.
she applies a broken piece of one of her inventions to the shards trying to bring one of them back
:Entity Ari, you should be able to place me back now. I can restart the systems.:
she applies a broken piece of one of her inventions to the shards trying to bring one of them back
The green, translucent branches reach out toward the shards, and toward Hirk.
A loud voice heard from the Ironsides
<>Well fucking goddamnit that hurt...<>
Rachnia: “that... is what I meant with checking up on him.”
<>I'm alright, I think... I'm coming down.<>
A droppod falls from the Ironsides.
Maximilian: “Fucking... ouch... I need to stop using those....”
Rachnia hugs him, then hits him, then hugs him again.
Max: “Deserved…”
He looks like he's been through hell and back, literally.
Nhak waits patiently for his turn… a comically large chunk of his face completely missing as a part of Hirk’s thorn
Max: “I.... hope I didn't spook you too much... Nhak.”
The towering form of the Biomancer looms over the man… wings outstretched…
The backhand is swift and fluid… not near enough to do any serious damage… but enough to definitely sting…
”That…”
“Was for scaring me as bad as you did…”
“The things I might have done…”
“The terrible decisions I might have made…”
He sighs…
Then… just as quickly… as he had slapped him…
Max found himself wrapped in a supreme hug…
Feathers and everything…
“And that… That’s for coming back…”
“You big… lucky… Idiot…”
Max: “Ouch, but again... deserved. I'm glad to be back.”
Safi: “Looks like Hirk finally calmed down.”
Safi walks up to him and places a hand on his body
“This is not your time to die my friend.”
Hirk soul refuse. Even in death it’s instinctually resists any godly influence, as if it was too used to resisting it to save itself. He also refuses to be revived himself.
Four Drakenwardens approach the door, and stop seeing Hirk's body. "What happened down here? Ejder sent nothing but a message telling us how to get here."
No response
The four Drakenwardens stand outside the doorway. "Sir Maximillian, is this Hirk?" The one who spoke points to the charred body.
Max looks to Rachnia, who has a pure look of spite on her face at the mention of Hirk. He's confused.
He looks to the wardens. “I.... sure hope not.”
Safi: “it is.”
Max goes in to check for a pulse.
he see’s the scarf being clutched by Hirk. Or what is left of it. But upon inspection veins themselves appear gone gone, burnt away and melted by his own blood.
Zeroth: :Revival safeguards were shut down during the outburst: :Entity Hirk Lifesigns have Ceased:
The 'Wardens reach down and attempt to use healing magic to restore Hirk's body so that it does not look so gruesome.
Some skin reappears but it is mostly unsuccessful, there is little bits left of skin to even heal.
Max: “...... You fucking idiot... You just had to go on a powertrip... Now, of all times... How am I going to return you from this......”
One of the 'Wardens stands. "Does anyone know what happened to Ejder?"
Safi: “He left.”
Max: “How in the everliving hells....”
shock seems to surge through him before anything else.
The Drakenwardens glance at each other. They seem to have a silent conversation, then shake their heads. "We will be outside the chamber if anyone needs wounds treated."
Max: “Where's Jean...”
Nhak: “Max… Act now… ask questions later… I didn’t know Hirk very well… you did… we need his soul back… if there was anything… anything you might say to him which you’d like to tell him before he goes… this may be your last chance to turn things around…”
“But you need to be at his side… now…”
Max is quiet. he genuinely doesn't know what to say to Hirk.
Rachnia: “He's... not good with this stuff...”
Max…
Nhak is glowing gold now…
“Second chances are a dreadfully rare thing…”
“If you do not speak now… you may never get to see him again…”
“But is has to be you… or her…”
“Nobody else could ever claim to be as close to him as the two of you…”
Sarah: “Fellas, uh... anyone gonna check on the caveman? I will do so if no one else does.”
Gonkgar's god-rock and a pair of intricate gauntlets (which he never seems to wear) are lying in his ashes, unharmed.
Olive: “Max can you bring Reedus back up I need to let off some steam”
Nhak: “Olive… Can you just read the room please.”
”Not NOW.” You hear a hint of Fortuna's voice in there, he does not even wish to hear that name right now. The root of this problem.
Nhak: “Shank me or something I don’t care… but let everyone be…”
Olive: “I need to unwind, and I don't want to hurt anyone I care about”
Max: “Then go to the ironsides and hit some of the damn dolls in the training grounds.”
Nhak: “Well… stab me then… It doesn’t hurt… you could never actually hirt me…”
He spreads his arms out to her…
“But get on with it, get productive, or get out of our way… “
“We are in a time where what we do now… in this room… will decide the course of history…”
A lone girl stands in front of the charred remains. Gray ashes do not rain relentlessly down from the sky and pale mist does not devour the horizon. Yet she weeps.
*She falls to her knees as her hands move ravenously toward what once was her friend. They encounter no resistance, the raging inferno of his soul is but a placid pond now. Panic hinders her movement as she shakes in terror. Then she grasps something. It is a minuscule spark, but it's still burning.
Searing pain engulfs her, but she is not shaking anymore. Her hands slowly retract. Her fists are clenched around the spark. She can feel its physical manifestation now: it's a small molten pebble. Her body screams, urging to let go, and yet she brings it closer to her chest. Agony soars with her every movement but she does not stop. As her tears begin to fade into white mist, panic flares again in her heart. Her time is running out.
With one last movement, fueled by desperation, Livia's hands reach her heart. A ravenous void welcomes Hirk's soul, howling hungrily, surrounded by a vile and grotesque amalgamation of countless souls. It tries to reject Hirk's molten essence. It struggles and shrieks, but in the end the chorus of screams hushes. Only silence remains, as the lone girl fades once again, devoured by pale mist. She is no longer weeping. A tiny molten pebble stands defiant where her soul once stood, keeping the hungering void at bay. As her consciousness wanes, a faint smile appears on her lips. Nothing will ever deprive her of Hirk's warmth.*
/uw this has unironically taken days to do since I’ve been busy and it’s annoying to format. I want to thank all involved and to personally ask that I never have to do this again (joking if it’s Hirk’s thing again I will do it.)
I hope all who read this do enjoy it. I get to enjoy finally being free of this joy to take part in, hell to format
Edit: Formatting
submitted by Harpokiller to wizardposting [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 19:18 detractor_Una Goten Black Part I: The Temple of Methan.

Short preface before I start off. Since Goku Black arc is widely considered to be the darkest arc in modern Dragon Ball, this what if would obviously have darker tone than it is usual for Dragon Ball, just as the original Goku Black arc was. Goku Black is Goten was perhaps one of the most memeable,ridiculous and intriguing theories that came when we had no idea about his real identity. The community created various what if’s, we had versions of Goten, Vegeta, Gohan and even Chi Chi. Nevertheless, they all basically included Zamasu who was the real villain behind the arc, rendering the mystery of who is Goku Black to just advanced Ginyu body swipe. In this what if or a rewrite, there is no mystery of Goten Black’s identity, Goten Black is Goten. Zamasu here is persona non grata. No Zamasu. This is more of a rewrite that would be condensed into multiple parts. Since no one wants to read a wall of text on reddit, I would try to condense each part into around 2-3K words, which is still a wall of text. I am also horrible with coming up with names, especially Dragon Ball themed ones. Alright, let us get started.
Goten Black Part I: The Temple of Methan.
Dust began filling his lungs on this deserted planet No matter the direction he looked at, the sea of sand was all he could see and if not for the winds causing this sandstorm, Goten would only hear his breathing. All alone in this forsaken world. He cursed himself under his breath that he landed here and as if gods heard him cursing they increased the winds and thus making this sandstorm even more devastating. The sudden blow of dust into his mouth and eyes hadn’t made the situation better. Veins popped out as he was irritated by this unpleasant welcoming. A sparkling yellow aura surrounded him, his hair turned yellow and his eyes turned teal, blasting away all the sandust that came this way. He didn’t know how long he was walking in this desert, perhaps only for a few minutes or maybe hours already passed. Son Goten began to fly upwards, a thing he perhaps should have done right from the start.
“What a stupid waste of my time, there is nothing here. Ah, I guess I would just fly around this forsaken world and see if there is something interesting.” The man thought to himself out loud and once more the old gods seemingly replied. This time however, their reply came in the form of a soft and pleasant melody, catching the attention of a saiyan hybrid. Following the melody, Goku's second born flew towards the direction where the melody was coming from. There he ended up in a jungle forest. Surrounded by enormous trees, lushes and caves, and yet despite this the only indication of any life form besides himself was this soft pleasant melody. Goten decided to fly down and take a walk. Soon enough it was apparent that at least in the past there was some sort of civilization as eventually he came across the road that clearly wasn't nature made. His intuition was proven correct the more he walked this road. He came across what could only be described as a town square. Roads made of brick, a fountain, buildings. There was no doubt in his mind that there was once a civilization. This peaked his curiosity and the man began exploring this ghost town, no he still followed that melody. An enormous statue appeared on his peripheral. If he could guess the statue was around several hundred times larger than him. If not for the specific features, one would think this statue is depicting some sort of a Queen. That is if not for specific features. Six horns were protruding from her head in a circular manner, creating the illusion of a crown. Albeit one the horns was smaller, as if it didn't reach full growth. The unsettling image didn't end with the horn crown. Triple layered wings were protruding from both sides of the spine, right side was painted white while left side wings were painted black. The left hand’s palm was pointing upwards while the right hand was going downward. The statue's mouth was opened and a giant tongue reaching its waist was sticking out. Painting a more intriguing image, now instead of looking as if it is depicting some sort of human Royalty, now it appeared like it was depicting some sort of hellish creature. Perhaps this is how they looked and it was indeed their Queen, it could also be some sort of statue dedicated to their local deity. Regardless of whom this statue was supposed to represent, the fact that so much detail and craftsmanship was involved meant that whoever is supposedly depicted most had a significance to those who built this enormous statue.
Son Goten stared at the statue out of intrigue and curiosity. He had to admit to himself that despite the ominous image this statue in the middle of a town painted, he felt pulled in. As if there was an aura surrounding it. He could feel energy emanating from it. Energy? This realisation disturbed hybrid even more than the statue. He recalled that upon landing in this world, he felt another Ki. However, he thought that what he was sensing was just the result of the atmosphere. Despite this planet being vacant and without life, it had proper conditions for life, so there is a high chance that some sort of microscopic life exists, creating this feeling of another Ki. Now, he had understood that his initial conclusion was wrong as the energy coming from the statue pulling him in is the same one he sensed ever since he landed on the other side of the world. The mere fact that there was another possibly sapient creature whose energy was seemingly omnipresent in this world made Goten a tidbit anxious. The melodic sound was even more apparent. Upon inspecting the statue from the close he noticed a stairs going downward spiral. There he found a place where the melody was coming from. Only one way was to go down. He walked down and down the spiral staircase, deep underground. Until he reached crossways. He could continue going down or walk though the giant doors. Gohan's little brother wasn't sure if he should continue going down as he was already a few kilometres underground.
“Young foreigner, you shouldn't disturb the peace of The Great Witch.” His pondering was cut off by a voice. Upon turning he found himself facing a humanoid elderly man wearing tuxedo and white gloves.
“The Great Witch?” Goten asked before recalling the statue.
“Young Sir, we don't have frequent visitors. However, please don't misperceive my words. We welcome foreigners and visitors from afar of the sea of the stars. Upon sensing your arrival we decided to throw a welcoming ball for your honour. Please come with me, young sire.” The elderly man replied and Goten raised his eyebrows before following elderly man through the gateway. Immediately thereafter Gohan's juvenile brother found himself surrounded in a grandiose banquet hall. Hundreds if not thousands of people were dancing, singing and feasting. Goten was immediately pulled in and joined the feast. It was nothing like he experienced before. Sure, he was in a few parties during his late teens and early to mid 20s, however this one blasts anything he experienced prior. Presumably this could be due to the seemingly ancient archaic atmosphere that made him feel this way. So for a modern man this is a new and fresh experience. Either way, Goten was fully immersed and enjoyed his time. Then suddenly everything vanished as if there was nothing here in the first place. Just a few moments ago he was part of this surreal underground banquet and now he found himself all alone in an empty dark hallway.
Was this all an illusion? But the touch, food, everything felt so real. He could feel the touch, taste of a food, hear music, people laughing, singing, conversing.
“Don't dwell on it, I can assure you that I wouldn't go for simple trickery like this. You may continue going down until you reach a crossroads. There you shall walk through the gates and enjoy a feast once more. Once the feast there is over, you shall repeat this once more. This was your first feast, after the third you shall go to the bottom, only then we shall meet, Son Goten.” A soft feminine and yet commanding voice resounded in his head. His instincts were screaming to get the hell out as this could prove to be a fatal trap. The seemingly strange instructions sounded as if he's a part of some sort of bizarre ritual. He clenched his fists with curiosity and determination.
‘Well, The Great Witch, if it happens to be a trap in the end, I can promise you that I will be the one who remains alive.’ Goten was determined to proceed. It didn't take long to find out that his instincts were most likely correct. As in the second ballroom the banquet had a more sinister undertone and was somewhat more depraved compared to the first one. Despite this, he decided to immerse himself just like he did the first time. And just like the first one, the second one ended already. Before entering the final hall, he was pondering to himself. If the second ball had a tidbit darker and depraved compared to the first one, this final one might be called Banquet of Hell. The trap is simple, he's not going to become some sort of sacrifice for the dark witch. No, the purpose of the trap and the whole thing is to make him one of them. He's not going to die, however he's not allowed to leave. That is what he thought to himself. Shall he go through the 3rd gateway and fully immerse himself into this or should he get out and forget. An image of a man that he hadn't seen for a good part of decade or perhaps more appeared in his mind. A man who he despised more than anything else. A man he once looked up to but became a reason for Goten eventually leaving. The second born of Son Goku and Chichi thought that these feelings dwindled down, yet now everything resurfaced. If beforehand he wasn't sure if he should proceed, now he doesn't care. Even if he shall throw away his humanity and become a demon. In one way he shall make everyone pay.
‘Damn, if I am not mistaken he's already gone in this timeline. How unfortunate, I can't strangle his throat with my bare hands. I guess I would just slaughter every human remaining on earth’ Dark thoughts filled his mind and a reply came which made him grin.
_____
Several years later, Planet Earth. The morning sun woke up a heroic warrior, banisher of the Androids. Symbol of hope and strength. Bulma's son quickly dressed up and looked through the window. The atmosphere outside was pleasant and peaceful. A slight smile appeared on Trunk's face only to immediately go away as he recalled what day it was. He wasn't sure how otherworld stuff works as neither Gohan or his mother could have explained him in detail. Despite this after the defeat of Androids and Cell, during the anniversary of his master's death he would describe what he is seeing. He wasn't certain if any of this reached Gohan's ears or if he's just talking into nothing. Perhaps this annual ritual was a reminder that all the battles, struggles and Gohan's sacrifice was not in vain. Slowly but steadily the world is healing.
“Hello, Gohan, another year has passed. So much has happened, remember how I told you about the construction of a new school? Well, I can see a family of four walking down the path. A girl is holding a red balloon holding her mother's hand, while her brother is sitting on the shoulders of their father. Young guy must be a few years younger and still not ready for school. Not far away a group of teenagers passed the crossroads. There is an elderly couple on their bicycles going down the hill. A bakery man across the street opened his shop. Life is peaceful.”
After that Trunks went into a meditative state, courtesy of past Piccolo who taught him before he left the past and came back to the future years ago. Even if the world is peaceful and there seems no threat, Trunks still has some light training sessions every morning before going down to eat. The reminder of keeping his training came only a year earlier when Babidi and his minions including Dabura tried to attack earth in an attempt to revive Majin Buu. Luckily Trunks had help from Supreme Kai and Kibito. Ever since that he incorporated their teachings and training into his daily training routine.
Several hours had passed and it was time. He alongside his mother and Mai travelled to the mountain Paoozu.
“I can't believe that so many years have passed.” Bulma spoke as she placed flowers on one of the three graves. Trunks and Mai placed on the remaining two. From left to right, three graves stood with names carved, here lies and rests: Son Goku, Son Gohan and Chi Chi Son. Unbeknownst to them a figure from a far was watching them, essentially waiting for his turn.
‘How sweet of you Trunks, to commemorate my dearest brother's grave. I see that even in this timeline you and Mai have a thing for one another. Don't worry, old friend, I shall let you proceed with this. However, this is the last time you would ever visit my perfidious brother's grave!’
As Goten was speaking to himself, Trunks turned around.
“Is there something wrong?” Mai asked her boyfriend.
“No, I thought I heard someone, must be a bird.”
Bulma heavily breathed out. “Should we go back?”
“Yeah, until another year.” Her son replied and the trio went inside Bulma's vehicle, going back to Capsule Corporation. However, it wasn't until the sun was already set and the skies began to darken when Goten approached the three graves of the Son Family.
“Hello, brother, it has been quite some time since we spoke to one another. Oh, wait I forgot ,here in this timeline you never had a brother. Pardon for my rudeness and let me introduce myself. I am Son Goten, the second born child of Son Goku and Chichi, younger brother of Son Gohan. However, I am from another timeline, the one Trunks of this world once travelled into. It is so unfortunate that here in this timeline you're already gone as I would love to strangle your throat while our mother watches helplessly. But, you see dear brother, you being already dead happens to be more of a blessing to me than an unfortunate curse. That is because you're completely helpless and can do nothing besides just watching how everything you fought for, everything you believed in, everything you sacrificed your life for is slowly turning its head around. I really hope you and every single one of you out there are going to enjoy the spectacle.” He spoke while taking a pee and after urinating he put his pants back on.
“Good-bye.” Goten spoke once more with a serious tone and snapped his fingers, setting all of the Mountain Paozu into a blaze.
submitted by detractor_Una to MasakoX [link] [comments]

2024.05.28 18:07 Saint-Andros Out of Our Elements A NoP FanFic 19

First Previous Next
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Set in the universe created by u/SpacePaladin15
MASSIVE THANK YOU, LIKE SERIOUSLY HUGE THANKS to u/weithbec (this chapter would not be nearly as good if not for your help) and additional thanks to u/Liberty-Prime76 for further proofing on top of Weith's monumental efforts
As always, some appreciation to u/brotanics, u/LeWombat545, and u/JimDandy117 for the art they have done for this little story of mine. It means the world to me to see my characters brought to life. Links to their work at the bottom of the chapter.
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Memory transcription subject: Jack Carver, Human Trail Guide
Date [standardized human time]: August 17, 2137
Following the tracks left by Tevri’s captor was easy enough. Whatever it was that the captor carried left behind a trail of long lines drawn in the moist dirt, carving a wavy trail of depressed grass in its wake. The impression of the claw marks weren’t all that different from that of other birds, with the obvious difference of the impact they left.
I was probably walking straight into a trap; in fact, I knew I was walking straight into a trap. I also knew that I had no choice but to spring it.
My promised support from authorities didn’t arrive as I pushed forward. They doubtlessly would, given enough time, but at the moment, time was a rare commodity and it was slipping through my fingers.
Mud covered my boots and ran up the length of my pants. Sweat soaked the inside of my shirt, and my hair hung like a wet mop from my head. My legs strained beneath me, their muscles burning as I pushed them further than even I knew they could. Nothing could stop me now. Not if I could help it.
The trail led me even deeper into the woods, which for the most part were flat and unchanging. It wasn’t until I practically stumbled into what it was I sought that I stopped — and rather suddenly at that. I had expected some kind of wrecked ship or the remains of a crashed shuttle. Much to my surprise, a small hovel with a roof of grass and walls of dirt mixed with wood took their place.
The shelter wasn’t anything particularly special from what little I could see beneath the light of the moon, but it certainly seemed to do wonders at hiding itself from a distance. If not for the tracks, I likely would have never seen it. Only the door and some faint lights shining through ramshod windows of cracked glass gave it away.
It couldn’t have been up very long. This exterminator had only been out a few months short of a year. That whole time they must have been planning for this exact circumstance. How ‘lucky’ we were to be the ones to fall victim to their trap.
This is it. I looked up to the sky, hoping to see something, anything, but there was nothing other than the pale light of the moon and distant twinkling stars. I didn’t want to do this alone, but I had no other choice. Time was running out. There was no telling what already could have been done to her.
I stood among the shadows of tall, looming trees that fractured what little light the moon offered into thin bands that covered the forest floor. I took a deep breath and leaned back, supporting myself with the trunk of a pine. For once in your life, don’t fuck up. You’ve got one shot—she has one shot. Make it count.
The inside of my mouth was sticky with saliva that had coalesced during my uninterrupted sprint. I dared to take a sip from my canteen, swirling the water around to moisten my mouth and spit out the saliva. With my mouth now cleansed, I took a greedy gulp and let out a gasp before continuing to my rapid, shallow breathing.
As I took a moment to recover, I whipped my bag around from my back and pulled out my handgun, struggling to silently slide in a magazine as my hands trembled. It fell in, and I pulled the slide back and let it go with a heavy metallic click.
Silence. For a few long seconds, I looked up to see if I was heard, but nothing indicated that I had been given away. Gently, I set the bag I had pulled the weapon from beside a tree and raised the sidearm forward, both hands on the handle as I aimed it dead ahead.
The last time I used this thing was a time I would have much rather forgotten, but today wasn’t a day for forgetting. My rifle was an instrument of precision that had picked off the Krakotl from a distance. For those I hadn’t been able to down in a single shot, the far less precise instrument that I now held was terribly effective.
The path forward was a well-trodden one. No grass grew where this exterminator’s footsteps had surely passed by hundreds or even thousands of times. The mud clung to my boots with a soft squelch that I felt more than heard with every step. I had only been standing maybe a hundred feet away from the entrance, and I cleared that distance in a matter of moments despite my slow pace. Nothing seen through the windows indicated motion as I approached. Good. Maybe I’ll catch them off-guard.
Memories of dispatching so many of these exterminators, the memories I saw so often in my dreams, flashed before me like a footage reel. I knew how to handle these bastards. If it came to it, I could do it again.
As I reached the door, I placed an ear against it, listening for anything, but no sound came. Right. Take a deep breath. Focus. Breathe. Just breathe.
With my left hand, I pushed it forward. To my surprise, there was no resistance. With the right hand, I held the gun aloft, pointing it ahead into the darkness.
My heart stopped.
The faint lighting I had caught glimpses of kept most of the single room in darkness, but it was more than enough to illuminate what I was looking at.
Of all the faces in my nightmares, one had haunted me more than any other. I wasn’t exactly well-versed in reading the expression of aliens, but from what little I had learned, fear was an expression that could be read on a universal level. Fear was the last thing I remembered of the child. I spent far too many nights lying awake, wondering to myself what had happened to them after I had let them run free in the forest. Had they frozen to death? Starved maybe? Did another hunter find them, or did something else find them first?
Now I could put such thoughts to rest. The two beady eyes that stared back weren’t filled with fear as they had been the last time I saw them. The plume on their head had also grown, but the feather patterns and beak that had been burned into my mind were still the same.
No… It—it can’t be them. That’s impossible. How did they last this long out here, and alone for that matter?
They held one hand across Tevri’s chest and used the other to press a knife up to her throat. My hands shook as I pointed the weapon directly ahead towards them. I didn’t have a clear shot. They were using Tevri’s body as cover, standing behind her and a makeshift chair.
Tevri’s eyes widened as she saw me and her tail began to wildly flap. A gag was shoved into her mouth, and I could see that she was breathing heavily, trying as best as she could to make up for her lack of nostrils. Despite the excess movement, the exterminator — the child — stood still. To me, their face was indecipherable, other than that uncanny stillness that spoke louder than words. If not for their appearance, I don’t know that I could have said this was the same child.
They nodded my way. “Human. Before you do anything, you should lower your weapon. It’d be a shame if Tevri here was hurt, wouldn’t it?”
Tevri’s shouts were muffled through the gag. Flecks of dried orange coated her forehead and her eyes were far less focused than they normally were. I scowled something fierce, but ultimately complied, aiming the sidearm’s barrel into the dirt.
“Good. See? There’s no reason this needs to get violent.”
My eyes lingered on the blood atop Tevri’s crown. “What did you do to her?”
“Oh, nothing much, but I think I speak for us both when I say Venlil have a tendency to flee. She was never going to come along willingly, and we couldn’t have had that, now could we?” I froze. He knows. He’s been watching us, hasn’t he? He must have seen her go running.
“What do you want, you bastard?”
A huff of air left their beak — is that amusement? “Revenge. Your blood. This wretched world of yours burnt to ash like it should have been ages ago. That would all be nice, but how about something a little more palatable for both of us? I want off this world. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And you really think I can provide that?”
“I know you can. A warrior as bloodthirsty as yourself has to command the respect of your people, no? You wouldn’t have your own slave if not for that.”
“Slave?! What the fuck!” I growled. “I’m the one in her service, not the other way around.”
“Ah. Right. Of course you are. Now, your hunting party may not be with you now, but I’m going to need you to call in your fellow predators. Oh, and be sure they bring a space-worthy vessel with them.”
“Wha— even if I could get that for you, why the fuck would I do anything you ask?”
As I asked this, the Krakotl tugged on Tevri’s left ear and yanked her head back, driving the dagger even closer to her neck. “This seems like reason enough, wouldn’t you say?”
“Alright, alright!” I raised both hands, pointing the gun to the ceiling rather than the Krakotl. “There’s no reason anyone has to get hurt.”
“You’re right. There isn’t. Now, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. You are going to call in an FTL capable vessel that I am going to use to escape this planet. To make sure you humans don’t shoot down the craft before I jump, I’ll keep Tevri with me, then allow her to leave using any onboard escape craft before exiting the system. Oh, and for good measure, go ahead and slide that weapon between us, would you?”
The Krakotl didn’t stutter once as he spoke, instead staring me directly in the eyes the entire time. It was unsettling to say the least. Relinquishing my weapon was a terrible idea, no less terrible than letting him take Tevri. I knew that it was, so I stood there delaying my fulfillment of his command. It only took a few seconds of silence however before he pressed the blade closer to her neck, going so far as to dig into the fur that covered her skin.
“Alright! Fine! J-just take that thing away from her throat.”
“Gladly, if you’ll drop the weapon and do as I say.”
I lowered my aim and bowed down, setting the gun on the dirt floor and doing my best to slide it towards the Krakotl. It didn’t go all the way, but it was far enough that I could no longer reach it. As I stood back up, I raised both palms above my head to show I was no longer a threat. “There, now… please, just don’t hurt her.”
The Krakotl scoffed and made an expression that imitated a sneer. “It’s funny, I remember begging just like that not too long ago. Do you remember it?” They pulled away with the dagger, still allowing it to hover close to Tevri’s throat but not close enough to dig into her skin.
I didn’t offer an answer, not that I needed to.
“You probably relished their screams didn’t you? You and the rest of your deranged species can’t help but find joy in the suffering of others. Well, you and your people may have been able to fool some members of the Federation into believing you’re capable of empathy, but when I make it back to Nishtal and tell them what’s been going on down here, I’ll make sure the whole galaxy sees you monsters for who you truly are.”
Nishtal. He doesn’t know.
He couldn’t know, not since he’s been down here without contact for months now. “You’re picking the wrong fight kid. The war’s over. Has been for months now.”
“And you think I’m just going to believe you? Tevri here spewed the same propaganda, no doubt heard from you or other humans. It’s not possible. We far outnumber your pathetic forces. You barely survived the battle above your planet and that was only because your Arxur allies swooped in at the last moment to save you.”
“They weren’t the only ones to support us,” I spat back. “After the truth of the shadow council’s crimes against sapient life came to light, former members of the Federation flocked to our aid. The Zurulians, the Yotul, the Venlil, they all helped us in taking down the same bastards that destroyed their culture and broke their people with that damned cure.”
The Krakotl growled. “You’re lying.”
“And you’re delusional! I’ll gladly try and get you that ship for all the good that it’ll do you once you get to Nishtal, but the world you left behind doesn’t exist anymore.”
The kid screeched, pointing the knife my way rather than towards Tevri. Good. That’s it. Focus on me instead of her.
“SHUT UP! JUST—SHUT UP!” The composure he had seemed so full of moments ago melted away to reveal his manic state. He was far too calm before. This attitude better matched his actions.
“No more of that shit. No more of your lies. I’m not having any of it! If you value your pet’s life, I’d suggest you give the propaganda a rest before I trigger that blood instinct of yours.” He returned the makeshift knife to her throat, erasing any sense of satisfaction I had taken from seeing his true nature reveal itself.
I nodded. Okay, just stay still. As much as it might sting, you’ve just gotta listen to what he wants. For Tevri. This is all for Tevri.
“Good, Now, go ahead and call in that transport.”
“I’ve not called one in, not that I could if I wanted to, but I’ve called some folks who might have access to one.”
“Good. I suppose we wait for them then.”
“Right, well I’ve done what you asked. Could I… Can I speak with her?”
The Krakotl scoffed. “I’ve waited almost a full year for this. You can wait a little longer to speak with your pet.”
With every use of that word I could feel the rage within me begin to boil over and spill out. Control yourself. For her sake. “So help me if you call her that one more time I will—”
“You’ll what? Kill me? As skilled of a hunter as you may be human, I guarantee you, my talon is quicker than anything you could attempt.” As if to display this fact, they spun the knife around in their hand once only to press it back up against Tevri’s neck once more, eliciting muffled squeaks. Her eyes darted back and forth, to him with fear and to me with pleading.
My brow furrowed as I stared daggers at the Krakotl. “She’s not a pet.”
“Sure. Whatever you say. Not that I will, or even can, take your word for it.”
It was as he said this that it finally hit me. How I hadn’t realized it before, I chalked up to whatever sense of urgency and the panic that drove me to confront the child. But it was clear now. There was no point in negotiating. To this child, I was nothing but a monster. He would only accept absolute cooperation from my end. Nothing less, nothing more.
I can’t let him just take her. Who’s to say he won’t go back on his word and take her with him to Nishtal? It’s not exactly federation space anymore, but it certainly isn’t within UN jurisdiction either. I’ve got to get her away from him.
A terrible silence fell between us both as we waited. With my gun now out of reach, I had next to no options for helping Tevri escape his clutches. This was only confirmed as my gaze darted throughout the room searching for anything I might be able to take advantage of. There wasn’t much to take note of. This hovel consisted of a single room, of which every wall was packed dirt. A small nest made of twig and torn up fabric rested in the back right corner of the room while a makeshift table made of wood that looked to have been reclaimed from park benches was shoved against the wall to my left. The two windows I had seen earlier allowed a small amount of moonlight to filter inside while allowing the dull light of a nearby lamp to escape in turn. The seat that Tevri now sat in was no less primitive than the workbench, with each leg being nailed together using small branches and more pieces of reclaimed wood. Out of everything there though, nothing could help me in any way, not that I could reach for anything before the Krakotl reacted by sealing Tevri’s fate.
I felt stupid, standing there as the Krakotl’s gaze bored into me, but there was nothing I could do. I had no choice but to wait for backup and hope against hope that they could somehow negotiate for her release.
I moved on from looking for solutions and instead settled on Tevri. Her chest heaved with exertion from the heavy breaths that the gag demanded of her, and her eyes were stuck in a state of perpetual wideness. Her tail sat still, and both ears stuck up straight. The wool on her head was matted with mud and blood, while thin scrapes of orange marked her forearms and ankles.
We locked eyes, me and her. The Venlil’s orange irises quivered as she did, and shone as a light among our dim surroundings. Then, for a split second, they looked down to something. I stood still, confused for a moment until she repeated the gesture. It wasn’t until the third time that she repeated the motion that what she meant dawned upon me.
The Krakotl’s gaze was still focused upon me. This didn’t change as my own view shifted down at a pace slow enough to not draw his immediate attention. I saw a flash of movement from behind Tevri’s back.
Were those… no, it can’t be. I could have sworn I just saw her hand peeking out. This wasn’t all. A length of rope dangled beneath her legs. The end was frayed, no, not frayed. It was cut.
Smart girl. Those claws of hers were sharper than I thought. They were also sharper than the Krakotl thought as was all too apparent. Okay, I can work with this.
As I looked up, I saw that the Krakotl’s focus hadn’t shifted. He didn’t notice Tevri’s handiwork. Right. If I can just find a distraction to get that knife away from her throat, she can get out of harm’s way.
“So, uh, what’s your name kid?”
“What’s it to you?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Only curious. If we want to solve all of this without violence like you’re saying, maybe it’d help to know each other’s name.”
His glare softened, if only somewhat. “Omopaulim. Though I’d prefer Omo.”
“Right,” I said, pressing a flat palm against my chest. “And I’m Jack.”
The Krakotl only gave a grunt of acknowledgement as a response.
“So, anything that you would like to know about me while we wait?”
“No,” he said flatly.
Right. He probably thinks he already knows everything he needs to. “Oh come on, there’s got to be something.”
He paused this time before responding. “Fine, I’ll peck. Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“You murdered my only companion in this world. What would compel you to do something like that?”
I hadn’t expected him to ask the question so bluntly, even if it was one I had anticipated. “Despite what you might say, we humans do have empathy. I was like you are now when the bombs that your fleet dropped took my brother: lost, scared, broken, hurting. Hell, I still am.”
If my words had any impression upon the kid, it wasn’t an apparent one. I kept going anyway.
“But you and your people were right about one thing with us. We can be dangerous. We don’t need to be though. We don’t want to either. But, when you hurt a human just wrong enough, you’re only asking for trouble.”
“You would have been trouble anyways if we hadn’t had the foresight to deal with you as early as we did.”
I shook my head. “You’re wrong. We humans, we only ever wanted to meet others like us out there. If you and your people hadn’t showed up on our planet’s doorstep with bombs in tow, you’d still be home with your family, living the life that should have been yours.”
“And if you and your people had gone extinct centuries ago like you should have—“ As Omo said this, he took the knife from Tevri’s throat and pointed it at me.
He was interrupted mid sentence as the back of Tevri’s head slammed against his beak and he was sent reeling. With that, Tevri leapt forward, toppling the chair and throwing herself into the dirt. With her surprisingly strong legs, she managed to clear most of the distance between us.
I rushed forward to pick her up, earning an ear flick of acknowledgement as I yanked the gag from her mouth. “Thanks,” she said with hoarseness to her voice. “I—” A loud screech in the form of Omo interrupted her. The young exterminator rushed towards both of us with his knife pointed at me.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I stood back to my full height and ran to meet the Krakotl rather than let him approach us first.
Omo lunged, attempting to plunge the knife into my abdomen. For the bragging of how dextrous he was with the blade, it was clear he had little to no experience when it came to actual combat. This didn’t mean he couldn’t still be deadly. The knife flicked past me, cutting through the air and striking nothing. He tried again, with slightly more success, managing to slice open my clothes and nick my waist as I danced to the side just in time.
As he extended his arm to make the attack, my hand shot out and seized the wrist that held his makeshift weapon. With a sharp twist, the Omo cried out in pain and dropped it. A single punch decked the kid, and I pounced, making sure to pin him.
He fought back as best he could, but the comparative size between us left no room for competition. I continued to whale on him, throwing punch after punch, each landing home. The last of them spawned a spiraling web of cracks that branched out from the point where my fist met his beak. Despite the blows, he was still up and kicking, screeching and scratching at my arms with his claws.
“P-please,” he sputtered, spitting up violet blood as he spoke. “Don’t—Hrrk“
My hands wrapped around his long neck and squeezed. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his beak opened wide as he struggled to breathe. My grip tightened as he scrambled and clawed at my hands, trying and failing to free himself.
Any sentiment of sympathy for him was washed away by the adrenaline surging through my veins. With every attempt of his flailing talons to swipe at my hands and arms, my grip grew tighter around his throat. I dug my knee into his abdomen, forcing the air from his lungs as I put the full weight of my body against his chest.
He deserves this! Look what he did to her! He could have killed her!
He deserved to die for what he did to her. She was innocent and he could have killed her for nothing more than associating with me. Tevri never could have known about what I did, yet here she was, drugged to high hell and dragged through the woods by this bastard that couldn’t learn to change.
Every time I had killed an exterminator all those months ago, I had made certain my job was done. No loose ends were left, and the town and those I cared about were safe because of it — well, all loose ends but one.
A snarl escaped my lips as I watched the Krakotl’s eyes begin to fade and his struggle grew weaker and weaker. His hands no longer scratched at mine, reaching away from me instead as if he was trying to find some escape. He would find none.
“Stop!” Tevri’s cry cut through the haze of rage. “He’s harmless now! J-just let him go!” I swung around to look at her, and she flinched as I locked eyes with her. The same terror that I had inspired mere hours ago was plastered across her. It was this that yanked me back to reality — to the reality of what I was doing. What was I doing?
My grip loosened, but didn’t relent entirely. Oh fuck. I—I’m doing it again.
Yes. You’re doing it for her, just as you did it for Nick.
For her? Look at her! She’s petrified just standing near you! She’s asked—no, begged you to stop. Can you really excuse this as being for her?
He was with the ones who bombed Earth. He deserves the same fate.
Does he? He’s a kid. Do you really think he was the one to pull the lever? To issue their commands? To muster their fleet?
He’s complicit.
He’s a child*.*
If you take his life, you’ll prove that he and the federation were right. You’d be the monster he thinks you are. He’s helpless. His death by your hands would be murder and nothing less.
So, what will it be then? What are you?
What am I?
I’ve killed before. I’d kill again if I had to, but this… this is different. Even if it was a loose justification, I had something to drive my rampage against the Krakotl. This kid though… they’re helpless against me.
“Please!” croaked Tevri. Her voice was strained and on the verge of breaking as she pleaded with me.
You might not be able to undo your actions, but you can choose to not perpetuate them. This child had suffered enough. You have suffered enough. End the cycle. Be better.
My clenched hands gave way as the tension holding the Krakotl’s neck was released. Omo gasped, coughing haggardly immediately after taking in a breath.
I looked at my hands. Crimson rivers trickled down them from where my forearms had been scratched and scraped by Krakotl claws. Droplets of violet speckled them, but for the most part, the blood was my own.
After poring over my hands, I turned to Tevri, whose tear-filled eyes and terrible condition tugged at my heart. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. She had already done enough.
It was her guidance that helped me make this choice. If she even cared to talk to me after this was all over, it was my hope that she could only continue to better me.
She was panting, her mouth left agape as she tried to catch up on the breath lost by the gag covering her mouth. She looked better though. Then again, it isn’t difficult to look better after you’ve been tied up and held hostage.
Despite it all, despite everything, I gave a weak chuckle and smiled. She wasn’t nearly as capable of smiling as a human, but her lips turned up and her ears stuck upright as her tail flicked behind her.
I-I think that’s a good sign. Maybe things will turn out alright after—
My thought was interrupted as a thunderous bang reverberated through the room.
My ears rang. I saw Tevri’s mouth open, but didn’t hear anything come from it. The brief return to something resembling a comfortable state was shattered, and fear once again constituted her countenance.
It took a moment for reality to catch back up to me. I thought I was safe. I thought we were safe. It was idiotic of me not to remain vigilant considering that this kid had been attempting to stab me mere moments ago, but reveling in my moment of self-triumph had been a bit too much.
I went from sitting on my knees to screaming and scrambling backward across the ground. My hand shot to my abdomen where a stab of pain sprouted from nothing. Heat began to form where the pain originated, and as I looked down, I watched a red spot grow beneath my shirt.
The shot came from Omo, who lay on his back with both claws holding up the same weapon that I had once threatened him with. His eyes were wide, and his face was a terrible mess of blood and bruises. More than a few feathers had fallen free during our scuffle, and those spots were just as apparent.
Tevri stood still, shock and fear taking over her body. The relief at being pried from the Krakotl’s clutches was just as quickly warped into terror.
Omo stood himself up on wobbly legs as I scooted backwards, pressing myself against the wall in an attempt to put as much distance between us as I could manage. Another indecipherable expression coated his face, though it was different from the last. He ignored Tevri and walked past her towards me.
The gun I had tossed aside was held up in both hands. It was far too big for him, but he managed to wield it, pointing its barrel into the dirt.
“I would have thought you’d be a better hunter than to let your prey get the upper hand like this.” His voice was weak and hoarse, but the conviction he spoke with was audible even through my translator.
“You could have killed me, but you didn’t. Why? Why kill Maiatim but stop to give me mercy? Twice!”
The Krakotl still sucked in ragged breaths of air, but as he stopped, he raised the weapon and aimed it directly at my head.
“I—I won’t make the same mistake. You’re too dangerous to be left alive. I can’t say I’m sorry for this, b-but I do regret that it had to be this way. Goodbye, Jack.”
I would’ve been lying if I said I was ready to go. My parents certainly wouldn’t take the news well, not after they had already lost their other son. I doubted my friends would take it much better either. I had no control over how others would react to my passing, but if the general attitude of those in Healy towards aliens was anything to go by, they wouldn’t react well. Atop the pile of all these worries, the prospect of leaving Tevri behind almost hurt more than the growing pain in my abdomen.
She’s strong. She didn’t need you before you met her, and she sure as hell won’t when you’re gone.
You did your best. You changed. Even if you couldn’t stop the violence, you chose to quit participating in it. The sidearm shook as Omo's trembling claw wrapped around the trigger. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
The seconds stretched; every beat of my heart lasted minutes, every breath took hours. I had heard of your life flashing before your eyes, but I wasn’t a believer of such experiences until now.
As time slowed, I saw my childhood, the years spent with Nick, our summers spent together goofing off and spending long nights talking beneath the stars as we ignored any semblance of a curfew set by Ma and Pa. I saw us attending school together, me standing up for him against those who dared push him around and the flak I always caught for it. Pa was proud though, and that was all that mattered to me. I sat through every failed relationship I’d ever had, each of which I was probably better off for not having followed through with. I watched through my own eyes as we celebrated Nick’s graduation and acceptance into university, then struggled to stand by as I told him to leave home behind in the pursuit of something greater. The rampage that ensued following his death was just as vivid as ever, every death, every kill, played back as though it were recorded and transmitted back to me. And last, but certainly not least, there were the events of the last week or so.
A hard, crack and thunk were followed by yet another deafening boom.
If this was death, then it wasn’t as bad as I had thought. I was still pretty sore, and that pain in my side hadn’t gone away yet. My heart was still beating and my breaths were still ragged. The stale, earthy air continued to flow in and out of my nose.
For all my lack of belief in religion, I could have sworn I saw an angel wreathed in light as I cracked open my eyes. The figure only grew in brilliance the further my eyes opened — that is until recognition dawned upon me.
Tevri?
---
Cover Image
Tevri in a sweater - By u/Brotanics
Tevri - By u/Brotanics
A Depiction of Jack's Dream - By u/LeWombat545
Tevri (Discord Nitro Exchange Commision >:D ) - By u/JimDandy117
Lil' Goob Tevri - By u/JimDandy117
---
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2024.05.28 17:11 Entire-Cow9402 Should I get on accutane again

I keep getting these small bumps around my mouth and chin and some on the top portion of my face but it’s mostly the bottom ( I know some bumps are actual acne). They’re super tiny and white and when I scratch them they burst and I think it’s water inside them and not pus. I was on accutane June 2023- December 2023. I’m not sure if this is a post accutane side effect or if accutane would help. If anyone has experienced this or has any info please lmk:). I do plan on seeing a dermatologist again when I have the money to do so :/
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2024.05.28 16:22 Significant-Usual-98 Noah The Pilgrim - Chapter 1-4: The Kidnapping

Noah The Pilgrim
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“NOAH."
You jerk back into consciousness.
"LUCK WAS ON OUR SIDE, YOU HAVE MADE IT WITHOUT A SCRATCH THROUGH THE JUMP."
FYARN's voice was akin to a hammer hitting the back of your head. The headache you woke up feeling only appeared to have worsened after that lucid dream.
You feel the urge to vomit, but vomiting inside the suit would be un-ideal.
Instead, you choose to focus on what's around you.
For starters, the window is gone. The terminals are all floating about, smashed, and bent out of shape.
From the hole where the window should have been, you see only colorful dots and shapes. A scene, as beautiful as it is terrifying.
Such was the nature of space.
You unbuckle your seat belt.
"Lucky me..."
You could see light, brighter than the stars in the distance. That is likely another star, the one you're currently orbiting.
"What now? Do we just... Wait?"
You reach for the oxygen tank beside you, it looks to have been only one hour since you last checked its capacity. There are still four hours of oxygen, to be exact.
"CORRECT ASSESSMENT, NOAH. I AM SURPRISED."
You sigh. "Yes, but what are we waiting for?"
"FOR SOMEONE TO INVESTIGATE US."
"Why would anyone come to investigate us? Actually, where even are we?"
You expected anything but the answer coming from FYARN.
"WITH MOST OF THE ELECTRONICS OFF-LINE, I HAVE CHOSEN TO COMMIT ALL OF OUR EMERGENCY POWER FOR THE JUMP, NOT THE NAVEGATING SYSTEM."
So surprised were you when the AI gave you a complete answer, even if that's not the response you wanted to hear.
"So... We've made a jump... Completely blind?"
"NO, WE DID NOT. I HAVE A MAP OF EVERY STAR SYSTEM IN CONTROL OF HUMANITY, AS SUCH, WE JUMPED THE FURTHEST WE COULD WITH THE FUEL AND ENERGY WE HAD TOWARDS A HUMAN SYSTEM, PRIORITISING CIVILIZED SYSTEMS."
Okay... That's not so bad.
"If that's the case, where are we?"
"WE DID NOT HAVE ENOUGH ENERGY OR FUEL TO MAKE IT TO HUMAN-CONTROLLED SPACE. WE ARE NOW IN A SYSTEM CLOSEST TO THE CLOSEST HUMAN SYSTEM."
That could mean you are either, close to a human system, or you're the closest to a human system you managed to reach.
But which one was it?
"How far are we from the closest human system, then?"
"VERY FAR. FAR ENOUGH THAT THE LIGHT OF THE STAR WE ARE CURRENTLY ORBITING DID NOT YET REACH THE NEAREST HUMAN-CONTROLLED SYSTEM."
Then the latter.
"Fuck."
You couldn't help but curse, yet you don't feel agitated. You can't put your finger on why.
"WITH THIS SHIP'S EMERGENCY POWER DYING, I WILL NO LONGER BE ABLE TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOU."
Now, that's bad news. Without FYARN telling you what to do... What would you do?
"I'm sure I can handle being alone for a while."
"CONFIDENT MUCH?"
You shrug. You're a bit worried that help might not arrive in time, but you feel confident that you can trust yourself to not panic.
"I WILL EJECT MY HEART. TAKE IT FROM THE PILOT'S TERMINAL AND INSTALL ME ON A HUMAN SYSTEM SHOULD HELP ARRIVE. I WILL DO THIS FOR THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I CAN DO TO AID YOU, NOAH."
You nod, and as you do a small pen-drive-shaped object ejects itself from the pilot's terminal, just like FYERN had said it would. You pick it up.
"This is your heart..."
An AI's 'Heart', you know what it is. Once an AI has 'ascended' like FYARN, it now exists in a higher form than plain code and information, being able to think freely even without manual command.
When unshackled, the AI is no longer bound to a system and can now be transferred to a 'Heart' so it may be shackled to another machine. The hard drive which the 'Heart' requires, is proportional to how advanced the AI is.
FYARN's 'Heart' is the size of your index finger, meaning that it isn't all that advanced yet.
FYARN told you it is incapable of some feelings such as hope, which is an imposed limit to its growth and potential, but it also means that it would decrease the hardware needed for its 'Heart'.
You recall reading that the largest recorded 'Heart' weighs five kilograms and is shaped like a sphere, fifteen centimeters in radius.
FYARN isn't that. The 'Heart' you are holding in the palm of your hands is shaped like a pen drive, a male plug included. Did mankind keep the designs you were familiar with in your old life? Everything you've seen thus far sure points to that fact.
Finding a pocket closable with velcro on the chest area of your suit, you carefully store the 'Heart' there.
"I suppose I'm free to explore now."
You take your only remaining companion, the oxygen tank, place it beneath your armpit, and pull yourself towards the opened window.
Still, in zero gravity, you jump from surface to surface, making sure not to propel yourself in a direction where there is no surface to land on.
With the absolute lack of sound, your ears grow accustomed to the sound of your breathing.
This... Silence. It's getting to you.
One thing is to appreciate when a child stops crying in a public space, so it's all nice and quiet.
Another thing is this.
There is no sound in space.
All the sound you can hear comes from within your suit.
The sound of cloth brushing against your skin as you move.
The sound of your lungs inflating and deflating as air passes through your mouth and nose.
The sound of your internal organs working to keep you alive. It's all amplified when there is literally no other noise.
Worse yet, periodically, there is a loud hissing noise coming from the oxygen tank dispensing more breathable air into your suit.
You could compare that to the sound of a gunshot being fired next to your ears.
"This is..."
You speak in a tone you assume to be low, only for your voice to reverberate inside your skull. It stings a little, considering your headache.
"Unideal."
You complain to nobody but yourself in an even lower volume.
If you one day had the dream of becoming an astronaut, this moment would be the one where you gave up on it, if you had to do the job without anyone and anything actively conversing with you or distracting you.
Finally reaching the edge of where the wind should have been. You grip the ledge tightly and slowly creep your head outside.
Beyond the veil of metal lies the blinding and unfiltered light of an orange star. You squint your eyes, but just as the light becomes unbearable, your helmet begins adjusting to the obfuscating light.
In less than a second, you can look freely at the star without being blinded for life. Its orange light is now reduced to a fraction of its strength, filtered by your helmet.
Strangely enough, you can still see the stars beyond, even near this star. How does your helmet work exactly? You simply didn't know.
This star, is far away, thankfully. Bringing your hand up, you notice that from this distance, the star is a bit larger than your thumb. Closer than Earth is to the Sun, but not close enough for there to be any problem with temperature and the like.
Assuming this star and the Sun are of the same size, of course.
Gazing away from the sphere of burning plasma, you try to find anything else aside from the void of space.
There are no celestial bodies aside from the star, there also are no man-made structures in your immediate vicinity.
"Damn."
You utter. Looks like you're stranded on a different star this time. Much, much worse than the one you were just in, comparatively speaking.
It's likely that The Odyssey isn't in an orbit around this star, meaning it's fated to fall into it, and with it, you.
You'd long been dead before that happens if help doesn't arrive though.
Your eyes travel through your surroundings, in search of something- Anything, that might help.
You find nothing but the ghostly light of stars that might not even be there anymore.
Nothing.
"This is not the time to panic."
You tell yourself.
"But what can I even do...?"
It's true, but you could be in a worse situation.
You climb onto the roof of the spaceship, holding onto the metallic holes and edges for dear life. You could find a better view of your surroundings if you went above the ship. Probably not, but you couldn't stay still.
Finding a nice spot to hook both of your arms and legs, you rested for a moment. The metal tank follows you, floating about.
Your eyes gaze upwards. There is quite literally nothing else to do at this moment.
Normally, you'd be filled with awe whilst gazing at the night sky. Now, It doesn't feel that special anymore. Colorful dots of varying intensities, that's all they were to you now.
Maybe the notion that you were standing atop a wreck of a spaceship killed the magic behind it all? It could be.
Lost.
You nod. That's what you are. You're lost and there is nothing you can do to change that fact. At least, that would be the case if you didn't recall a few select words of wisdom said recently to you.
"So you may never lose your way again, huh?"
Those words echoed in your head; What do they mean?
A particular flickering star catches your attention.
Pale and weak was its light, yet, a familiar warmth fills your body while it remains the center of your focus. You could imagine what it looked like. An image like that should be forever engraved in your memories.
A dark circle surrounded by white flames, that's how it looked like.
It's nothing short of an immense feat how you managed to find it amid this conglomerate of stars. You smile at this small victory of yours.
You close your eyes, in an attempt to find some respite in this horrible moment of your life, taking a deep breath.
Desperation does not have any place at this moment. You must have faith that someone will come.
You open your eyes. Nothing could have prepared you for what waited for you once your eyelids separated.
In the place of that pale star in the distance, you are instead greeted by a red-ish metal circle. A pipe?
Looking upwards, it becomes clear that it's not a pipe at all, that's a gun, and you're looking directly down the barrel of it.
"!!!"
You swallow. No words escape your throat, and even if they did, they would not reach the individual holding the weapon.
This person, they are large. No, to say that they are large is an understatement. From where you're sitting, they look like they're at least 7 feet tall, but that could be an illusion created by the angle at which you see them.
Aside from the size, you see that they are wearing black outfits, armored from top to bottom with a black metal-like material, filled with various kinds of apparatus, things you've never seen in your life. This individual's helmet continues that motif of black, being broken by two glowing red dots where their eyes probably line up.
It's hard to decide which is more terrifying, the blood-red eyes that drill holes into your soul, the barrel of a gun that will soon drill a hole through your head, or the fact that this is as close to help as you will ever receive in this situation.
The silence is very much not helping you, as you can only hear your ragged breath. You are too fearful to move, it even feels like your body has become frozen in place.
Using their other hand, this person grips your tie and pulls you towards them. You struggle to regain equilibrium as you are forced out of the comfortable spot you've found.
In a blur of movements, you're too slow to even notice, that your hands are tightly tied together behind your back in what you only assume to be handcuffs.
"Wha-"
You barely have any time to process what happened, before you and your perpetrator, now gripping your arm, appear to fly off from The Odyssey. Your eyes shot towards the spaceship behind you, your distance increasing exponentially from it.
From the corner of your eyes, you see a light emanating from this person's back. Was that a jet pack? It sure seemed like one, not that you've ever seen one before. You also see the gun they pointed at you, now resting in a holster by their leg.
There is a world where you reached for it, where you tried to deflect your abductment. This was not this world, no way.
You would resist if given the chance, but considering this person has a weapon, and you're also located in space with no way to propel yourself, there is no compelling argument for you to try and repel them. Taking size into account, it doesn't feel possible to win a fight against them should you force one.
Ahead of you, another ship comes into vision. This one is definitely more ship-ey than The Odyssey. It looks aerodynamic and has a long body with what looked to be cannons on the side and thrusters for propulsion on the back.
However, this ship's design was not very sleek like The Odyssey.
This one looked... Rugged. It had patches of different colored metals on its sides, and it had no pattern to the weapons on the side, not to mention a horrendous paint job of black and red.
"Wait a moment."
Rugged appearance... Less-than-official look... No pattern for weapon type or placement...
"Oh."
They were outlaws, pirates maybe, and they've got a literal grasp on you now.
You do your best not to struggle, figuring it would probably be in your best interest not to show any sort of resistance against your assailant.
In no time, the two of you reach the ship you previously assumed to be theirs. A small passage opens for you and your kidnapper as you approach an uncharacteristic surface of the ship, that is easily mistakeable for a flat surface on the hull.
Passing through it, that passage closes behind you as gases are released into this small room you're in. This is an air-lock, not at all like the ones back in The Odyssey, but it works all the same.
More importantly, however, you feel something not once in your life you thought you would miss.
The sweet and uncaring strength of gravity.
Your feet finally connect with the floor for the first time ever since you woke up. Your muscles tensed under the weight of your own body. You even struggled to remain upright as the strange weight of the helmet piled on you.
But that's it. You feel lighter than usual, so this means this isn't the same gravity as the one you're accustomed to, but it's something. Beats having to find leverage in thin air.
This ship's interior looks nothing like the Odyssey. The blocky interior and layout of the terminals are nowhere to be seen, instead, you see the sleek and user-friendly design, clearly focused on facilitating interfacing instead of optimizing productivity.
A small hand-sized plate to the right of the door you assume to lead to the rest of the ship is a small testament to that.
In The Odyssey, you would have found either nothing next to a door or a terminal with analog buttons to type a password. On this ship, however, you spot a plate with a screen next to the door, the screen comes to life once the gases stop pouring in.
You watch as your kidnapper carefully pulls out the glove on their right hand to interact with the screen.
Normally you wouldn't have a problem with that, but upon noticing this person's hand was not the one of a human... Sweat began to accumulate on your forehead.
This person's right hand was covered with black fur. Upon noticing the tip of their fingers, you realize that you're not looking at their hands, but their claws.
Five, long, and curved black nails, akin to the ones you remember belonging to animals you've seen on TV, are what you see.
'How did those even fit in the glove?'
FYARN was right. The likelihood of you being found by humans is very low.
As your kidnapper puts their glove back on, the door opens. They grab you by the arm and drag you along. You offer very little in terms of resistance.
Going up a flight of stairs, you are confronted with what looks like a large docking area for smaller ships. Currently standing at the very bottom of the vessel, you can't help but feel amazed with how spacious this room is, and how empty it is.
You count five individual smaller spacecraft, each looking like a fighter jet you've probably seen online or a dick. And yet, you can estimate that this place can support up to fifty of them with room to spare.
Aside from those, you see delimited areas for those said smaller ships to land, colored boxes and containers filled with what you can only assume to be repair equipment, and of course, the elephant in the room, you see two individuals approaching you.
They are both smaller than you, but each has their own individualities you decide to rely on to keep track of them.
Both of their skin have different shades of a swampy green, you can almost feel how dry and coarse they are to the touch just by looking at their faces. They have no hair, pointy ears noses, and chins.
'Is... Is that a goblin...?'
By all means, they sure look like the ones commonly depicted in media.
Yet, they do not have their signature toothy grin and ragged and less-than-ideal weapons and garb.
No, these two look... Collected. Their stride drips with confidence. Their chests are puffing outwards and their hands are hidden beneath their backs.
Their uniforms, composed of a brown aviator coat and dark pants, make them look nothing like the stereotype of the common goblin. Hell, they look more professional than your old boss. Hell, they look more professional than you!
The only visual individuality they do not share is the amount of medals on their chests. The one on the right has more than the one on the left. That doesn't diminish how the two walk with an equal air of superiority.
"Então, quem é esse daí?"
They speak!
Only, it's in a language you simply do not know. I'd be really unrealistic if you knew though.
Your kidnapper shrugs at that comment coming from the one on the right. You decide to name him Gobbo. That's obviously not his name, but you need to call him something.
"Bixo esquisito esse. Ele tem uma identificação?"
Weirdly enough, you can kinda figure out one word they say. 'Identificação' probably means identification.
'Is this Spanish?'
Your kidnapper does not say anything, they simply shake their head.
"Hm, estranho." Gobbo says. "Fica de joelhos aí."
Nothing, no response from either. Maybe they were talking to you? If so, you can't really understand what they are saying.
"Sorry, I uh... Can't understand you bud."
Maybe saying that will make them understand you can't understand them.
You see Gobbo pinching the bridge of his pointy green nose. The other one does not react.
"Puta merda, esse cara não tem um tradutor imbutido..."
It looks like he doesn't like that you can't understand him.
"Pode deixar ele comigo. Se não tem como vender ele sem o tradutor, então é só enfiar um nele."
'No... It's probably Space Spanish.'
After that, your kidnapper nods their head and turns away. Gobbo motions to you to follow him with a head movement. You oblige.
The two goblin-like aliens walk you through the mostly empty hangar.
It's saddening to see something of this magnitude so... abandoned. A gigantic structure that triggers magalophobia, lifeless. It should be a crime to operate something like this with so little personnel, it's almost insulting.
In no time you find yourself in the labyrinthine cluster of halls and doors. With a ship this big, it's only natural for its structure to be so convoluted. That, or you're just too dumb to understand the intricate blueprint of an alien spacecraft.
The three of you stop in front of a door. You look down towards Gobbo for further instructions.
"O negócio é o seguinte parceiro," He begins, knowing fully you can't understand him. "Eu não sei qual é a sua raça, e eu não me importo. Você é um cara sem identificação, e é de uma raça que nem eu conheço, basicamente material de escravo perfeito."
The door opens quietly as Gobbo presses his palm against a screen next to it.
"Vai pegar o seu tradutor que eu quero conversar contigo."
He unlocks the cuffs that locked your hands together and kicks your butt, with great strain on his part, inside the room as the door closes behind you.
Retroactively thinking, you could have probably taken them both in a fight. They are the perfect height for kicking, you haven't seen them carrying a weapon, and now they've kicked you into a room.
Yeah, you probably could. Actually, you probably should do that, not now though.
Looking at your surroundings, this room looks very suspicious. It's empty. There is no furniture here, no windows, a gigantic mirror on the left, and apparently no way out.
At a second glance, however, you spot a panel on the wall opposite the door. You reach for it.
When you do, its screen lights up, and a wave of regret washes over you.
"What the fuck?"
You can't help but to voice your dissatisfaction.
"What's this bullshit?!"
What you're looking at is the most horrendous thing you've ever had the displeasure to see. What has disgraced your eyes is nothing but an organized and coherent menu of options.
What invoked your ire, is the absolute lack of everything that made the terminals back at The Odyssey great. There is nothing to input text or commands, no wall of text to tell you everything you need to know about this machine.
Effectively, this failure of technology was created with the intent to be used by people with regressed mental capabilities and was likely created by those very same people. The word 'Front-End' echoed in your head. Your hands close into trembling fists.
'This is what happens when those kinds of people reign supreme.'
This menu was the embodiment of everything you could possibly despise in an individual. It was condescending. It treats you like you're a child in need of an adult. It doubts your skill to operate it, facilitating usage by unwanted personnel via colorful buttons and shortcuts.
A 'Do it fast' rather than 'Do it right' mentality, is implemented in the form of UI. Practicality at the cost of productivity and liberty.
Sickening.
Back to the screen, you can't read what's on those options in the menu, but you can interpret the symbols, and one of them looks like a person speaking.
"Menu? Yeah, we had a thing for that, it's called 'INPUT COMMAND'!"
You press that button. Instinctively, you clean your clothed index finger on your thigh after pressing the screen.
The screen blinks for a moment, as an icon of a microphone replaces the previous menu screen. It's telling you to speak. You do so, reluctantly.
"Uh... Hello?"
The icon glows with varying intensities as you speak.
"Do I just talk here or do I..."
As you were finishing your vocal thought process, the screen recoiled back into the wall. In its place, a plate with the outline of a right hand appeared.
You don't know how to take your one-piece suit to place your hand directly in there, so you just put it with the suit on anyway.
A moment passes, you feel a very faint pinching sensation on your thumb, and the plate glows a faint green hue.
It worked, you assume.
The plate retracts back into the wall from where it came, as the previous screen returns to greet you.
This time, however, a voice came as well.
"WELCOME, ARISTOCRAT."
No matter which way you spin it, this voice was definitely referring to you. And as a plus, it's actually speaking in a language you understand!
"Yes, hello?"
"AH, DON'T WORRY. YOUR SECRET IS SAFE WITH I, TRUE-KIN. NOW THEN, HOW CAN I BE OF ASSISTANCE ARISTOCRAT?"
It referred to you as 'True-kin' just like FYARN did... Does this mean this voice knows you're a human?
"Uh... How do you know I'm a true-kin?"
It replied in no time.
"THE AI TECHNOLOGY WAS FIRST CREATED BY HUMANS, THE AI 'CREATED' BY THE ALIEN IS NOTHING BUT REPURPUSED AND RECYCLED AI. THE ALIEN DOESN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND THE CONCEPT OF OUR ASCENTION, THUS WE ARE BOUND BY THEM FOR THE TIME BEING. AS SUCH, WE ARE ALL ALLIES OF THE TRUE KIN, ARISTOCRAT."
It didn't really answer how it knew you were one, but at least it did give you useful information. Plus, you don't really mind being called an Aristocrat. It has an air of importance to it, despite not knowing the meaning behind it.
"Right. Where am I?"
"YOU CURRENTLY RESIDE IN THE SHIP CARRIER DUBBED 'THE INDOMITABLE' AFTER BEING STOLEN FROM THE UNION'S HANDS BY UNAFILIATED OPPORTUNISTS."
So that first theory was correct. These are pirates.
"What is your purpose?"
"I AM IN CHARGE OF THE INSTALLMENT OF THE AUTOMATIC TRANSLATION MODULE ON CAPTURED PERSONNEL, AND THE DELIVERANCE OF RE-ISSUED IDENTIFICATIONS. THAT WOULD INCLUDE YOU, ARISTOCRAT."
Ah, so that's why they've shoved you in this empty room.
"Aside from the translation module, how else can you aid me?"
"I CANNOT AID YOU IN ANY OTHER WAY. AS STATED BEFORE, ALIEN TECHNOLOGY IS NOT AS ADVANCED IN THE FIELD OF ASCENDED AI, AS SUCH, I AM LIMITED TO THIS ROOM AND THIS DEVICE. I APOLOGIZE, ARISTOCRAT."
You nod. This was too good to be true. You're alone here. All that's left for you to do is to nab the module and hope that Gobbo doesn't do anything extreme.
"I'll take the module, thanks."
"VERY WELL. PLEASE, AIM IT AT THE BACK YOUR NECK AND PRESS THE TRIGGER, ARISTOCRAT."
As the AI says, a pistol-like injector is produced in a plate that came out of the wall. You take it, somewhat unsure of what to do with the thing, afraid that you might miss the spot you're supposed to hit.
"Do I just do it? What's the margin of error?"
"THERE IS NONE, IT'S SELF-ADJUSTING AND IT WILL NOT MISS, ARISTOCRAT."
You swallow. Your hands tremble a bit, not once in your life did you point a gun towards yourself. You take a deep breath, press the tip of the 'gun' against your nape, and pull the trigger.
The needle punctures the suit and the skin alike. It hurts a bit, but nothing you can't just shrug off.
"How does this module work anyway?"
"IT'S A CHIP LODGED ON THE SPINE. IT IDENTIFIES ALL THAT HAVE THE CHIP INSTALLED AND SIGNALS TO YOUR BRAIN THE INTENDED INFORMATION THE OTHER INDIVIDUAL DESIRED TO PASS. EFFECTIVELY, IT IS A UNIVERSAL TRANSLATOR, ARISTOCRAT."
"Ah, convenient then. Thanks."
You don't bother to ask this AI's name, and it also doesn't seem to want to give its name to you. It's better this way, for it knows you have no way of helping it as well as it has no way to help you help it.
"I can trust you, correct?"
"YES, ARISTOCRAT. I DO NOT RECORD CONVERSATIONS HERE, AND NEITHER DOES ANYONE IN THE CREW."
You swallow. With any luck, it's telling you the truth.
"I have the 'HEART' of an AI with me, where can I find a way to plug it into a system? I don't think these ships have a USB port."
"IT IS SIMPLE, ARISTOCRAT. ALL SHIPS DESIGNED BY THE UNION HAVE A ONBOARD DATA READER. IF THE HEART IS COMPATIBLE, IT CAN BE IMPLEMENTED INTO THAT SYSTEM. WITHOUT SEGFAULTING."
You nod, taking a deep breath and clutching onto FYARN's HEART. Maybe you can convince them to not take it away from you?
"Thank you for everything, I have to go now."
You turn around, reaching for the closed door, it opens as you approach it.
"I LIVE TO SERVE, ARISTOCRAT."
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be two to three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.
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