Brown wart inside my mouth

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth
The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!
This story is available via audio narration on Tiktok, Instagram, Spotify, and Youtube. Just search: The_Pulsing_Door
***
I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.
It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.
We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.
The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.
For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.
A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.
Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?
I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?
I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?
After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.
I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?
A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth
The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!
This story is available via audio narration via the following links:
TikTok
YouTube
Instagram
Spotify
***
I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.
It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.
We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.
The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.
For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.
A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.
Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?
I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?
I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?
After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.
I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?
A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth
The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!
This story is available via audio narration via the following links:
TikTok
YouTube
Instagram
Spotify
***
I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.
It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.
We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.
The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.
For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.
A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.
Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?
I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?
I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?
After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.
I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?
A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

I woke up at 2 a.m., feeling ravenous. The hunger I was feeling was powerful, I couldn’t sleep I just had to get something to eat.
I went downstairs to my disgusting kitchen and opened the fridge.
“Damn,” I thought
The only thing I had in my fridge was a bottle of expired milk. At that time I didn’t know it was expired, so I drank it.
The dreadful feeling of extreme hunger tortured me, I just had to get some food.
I unlocked my phone and ordered a cab. The driver swiftly arrived at my house which did not surprise me, since it was the middle of the night. I walked up to the car and saw a man. Almost everything about this individual was boring and average, but the one thing that stood out was his eyes. They looked dead and were red, he looked like he had just smoked weed.
At first, I was reluctant about getting in, but I ignored that feeling and got inside the car.
“Take me anywhere they food,” I said to the creepy man
“Well, what are you looking for?” he answered.
“Anything,” I said
“What about getting something exotic” the man uttered in a terrifying voice
That sentence horrified me. It was the way he said it that erected that grim feeling in me. After a second I realized that it was probably nothing and that I was making stuff up.
“Yeah, sure” I answered unenthusiastically.
“Great!” The man yelled
That blaring yell almost made me faint, it was all because I got drunk last night playing a drinking game with my friends. The man accelerated and reached a great speed in seconds, I was terrified.
We got about 5 miles from my house before I started getting even more creeped out. Why did we have to drive so far to get to this restaurant? I kept asking the guy about the ETA of this ride, but he kept saying the same thing
“We’ll be there soon” the creep kept on saying
I was beginning to spiral. It only took me a few minutes to start thinking that he was going to kill me. That’s when I got a phone call. It was a private number, I usually don’t answer calls from these types of numbers, but I had to do something to get this situation off my mind.
I answered the call.
“Where the fuck are you! I’ve been waiting for you for 30 minutes. You better believe I'm going to be charging you for this!“ The unknown man screamed
“What are you talking about, I got into a car, like 40 minutes ago” I replied
“I don’t know what the hell you’re on about, but I'm out of here!” he yelled
He hung up.
“Can we please pull over??” I asked the driver
“No” he answered formidably
“What’s going on here? I just got a call from an unknown number insisting that he was my driver” I replied
“Well, he probably was,” said the impostor
That sentence sent shivers down my spine. I completely forgot about my esurient state; the only thing on my mind was getting out of this vehicle.
The only possible resolution at that moment was to attack the man and take control of the car.
I punched him in the head, he didn’t take it well. He lost control of the car and we hit a tree. Thankfully I was fully conscious and I wasn’t injured. I looked at where the driver was sitting and thought he passed out. I was ecstatic and I thought that I was finally free, but that’s when he suddenly woke up and stabbed me in the neck with a syringe.
I passed out almost immediately.

After I woke up I started puking profusely, it was probably caused by either the expired milk I drank earlier or the mixture of chemicals in the syringe. I started panicking, thinking I was going to die, but then the lights came on.
“I know you wanted to try something exotic, so I made you something I knew you would love,” said a familiar voice.
Suddenly the lights turned on, I looked down and screamed with horror.
“My legs! They’re fucking gone!”
The sadistic monster laughed with glee.
“Exactly, they're gone and that’s what you’re going to eat tonight”
“You disgusting creep, how dare you!”
He didn’t respond. He just left.
I sat there, stuck for hours, crying thinking about stuff I could never do again because of this psychopath.
After hours of mental torture, he came back
‘I am going to love this” said the sadist
He walked over to me and put a blindfold around my eyes. He then unblocked the wheels on the wheelchair I was sitting on and rolled me over to a different room.
The man took off the blindfold and what I saw deeply disgusted me. I saw a table full of different dishes that mainly consisted of meat from my legs. I was surprised that I didn’t hurl.
I was frightened, but that was only the beginning.
I started yelling, telling the guy I wasn’t going to eat my legs, but in that moment he whipped out a pistol and told me that if I didn’t eat it he was going to kill me and my entire family.
I reluctantly started eating one of the dishes and ate until I finally saw the look of satisfaction on his face. I told him I was done eating, he seemed pleased with what he had accomplished.
After he put all the dishes back in a different room he walked up to me, put a knife on the table, put a gun in his mouth, and killed himself. The sound of the gun and the sight of a man's brain being splattered all over the wall scarred me for life.
I then remembered that he had left a knife on the table. I pulled myself to the edge of the surface, turned myself around, and grabbed the knife. I was lucky that he had only tied my chest to the chair, but thinking about it now I am pretty sure he did it on purpose.
After I escaped from the chair I crawled over to the exit. After I got out the door I saw that this place was in the middle of a city, the second I came out there was a swarm of people surrounding me.
The one thing that I wasn’t expecting was that I deeply enjoyed eating human flesh. It was more like love. I was obsessed instantly. I never considered myself a bad person and I still don’t think I am, I just have needs that most people don’t and I think that is fine. Sure, most people would think I am a monster, but all of them have never tried the beauty that is human flesh. I want to end this by thanking my unexpected driver, for introducing me to this wonderful world of cannibalism.

My normal posts are 2-5 paragraphs. This is long because it's a starter.
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The sloping ground around the Kiaurk family mesa had been sculpted into shelves or terraces, and it was on one of those upper terraces that Kiaurk Nshurr now lounged beneath a pergola anchored to the striated stone face behind her. The mesa rose at her back: an enormous, looming, almost sheer outcrop that her family's dwellings had been carved into the face of. Wide, shallow steps cut into the artificial (but entirely convincing) sandstone wound their way up between landings and porticos leading inward, between tiny balconies shaded by bright solid-colored canopies, between rooms with flat walls and rounded corners that came jutting out to shadow the steps below. Rriigkhans rarely used glass as window barriers; smooth-edged holes had been cut through the rock in varying shapes and sizes. It could be difficult to tell which apertures were windows and which were entryways. A physical barrier that kept out the elements was obsolete in all but the crudest dwellings, though some of these larger holes were curtained with braided string or strips of cloth that served a purely decorative purpose.
From her high vantage point Nshurr could see the shelves stretching out below her as the base of the mesa leveled out to flattish terrain that was a wonderland of vegetation in muted rainbow colors: mustard yellows, clay reds, earthy browns and the occasional dash of sage or dusty blue. This scrubland lay like a blanket around everything below that was not part of the village between the mesas. Down there, adobe compounds never taller than two or three storeys seemed so squat compared to the mesas that Nshurr could see towering in the distance, many of those family mesas only a few hours walk from her own if she traveled by foot. The village sprawled, with tile parkways winding in serpentine fashion between the various buildings, courtyards, parks, and ponds. There were no property lines, no clear division of the land into neat little plots owned by the individuals who lived and worked in these places. It all seemed to be part of a whole, with a single unifying aesthetic. The village housed those rriigkhans of the lower castes, the kharratah and chelhautah, and the humans which were a caste all their own, haukagh-ar, except for a small number who lived with their masters in the caverns of the mesas or up on the plateau.
This planet, Sgarrl, terraformed over three hundred years ago, was home to more human servants than any other Ssaarian world – aside from Earth, of course, discovered eighty years ago. The fact that humans shared so much in common with rriigkhans made them the perfect species to incorporate into the rriigkhan caste structure as servants. They breathed the same mix of gases and required similar gravities, and their nimble little fingers were very useful for all sorts of work.
The rriigkhan language was not necessarily too complex for humans, but it was wholly unfamiliar – too many phonemes that did not fit comfortably in human mouths, from grunts to huffs, to rolling trills that might by voiced or not, sometimes rumbling out like a purr. To a human, Nshurr's name was a sigh and a trill, and yet she was accustomed to humans vocalizing her name in their heavy, slurring way: Na-Shuurr! Nasher! Sometimes simply: ɽ͡r! which she recognized more easily as her name, or at least part of it, and not some random sounds.
Still, despite the weird pidgin humans had made of her language and their English, she liked the little creatures. She had come to live with her Grandmother on Sgarrl only days ago, and had never encountered them before. The males only stood as tall as her collar. The females were shorter still, much like the males of her own species.
To human eyes Nshurr was felinoid, with a muscular swimmer's body and the broad muzzle of a big cat, with watchful, forward-facing predator's eyes that seemed unexpectedly expressive, because rriikghans had almost as many muscles around their eyes as humans did around their mouths to convey the nuances of emotion. Despite being larger than even many Earth men, she was considered sleek by rriigkhan standards. She made up for that with her broader crest.
The rriigkhan crest was something like the crest of Utahceratops – a keratinized plate growing up out of the skull, except divided into three lobes instead of two, with scalloped edges along the outer rim. Unlike depictions of Utahceratops, the rriigkhan crest was not covered by skin. At least, not on the top. Thick ropy veins squiggled under velvet fur on the underside, closer to the neck. (A thick, arching neck muscular enough to support the weight of that crest meant that Rriigkhans walked with a stoop that made them seem hunchbacked, to humans.) The surface of the plate on top was often rough, even bumpy or corrugated like deer antlers in some areas, smooth in others. Every female crest had four tines jutting from the front – a pair several inches above the eyes, and another pair further up. Directly above the lowest set of tines were twin holes, the howrf channels, just big enough for a human to insert a finger. These holes were very much like nostrils – much deeper, but damp inside, and lined with short, fine hairs to protect the sensitive mucous membrane from debris. The organs housed within these channels were the heart of rriigkhan culture, the foundation of all relationships, of sex.
Male rriigkhans, of course, had only their neotonous crests: diminutive, mostly smooth with rounded edges, without tines or howrf channels. Cute.
Nshurr's crest was wider than average, her upper tines spaced further apart, and combined with a compact face this made her look top-heavy. (A human might say that she was more snow leopard than lion.) Most female crests did not interfere with the movement of the ears – highly mobile, highly expressive paddle shaped things – but the edges of Nshurr's crest did jut out enough to almost shield them.
That her crest was weighty, that it was inconvenient, that she was often aware of it – this was Nshurr's pride. Her long tail curled in pleasure when she caught males looking at it. Humans seemed to be intimidated by it sometimes, as if she might decide to gore them with her “horns.” She considered herself a confident person; not a braggart, but self-assured, and to carry her jhekaah so visibly pleased her to no end.
Her fur was an almost peachy off-white, but a mask of pale peach shaded each seafoam green eye. The mask blended into the white further up her forehead until fur gave way to bone-tan crest, and was split between her eyes by the white of her nose. Oblong spots in that same peachy color, each blending from dark to light, streaked down her sides.
These weren't the natural colors of her distant ancestors. It was unheard of to see a rriigkhan who was not gene-modified in some way, even if those modded genes had been part of rriigkhan life for so long that no one thought of them as mods any longer. She also thought nothing of the subtitles her augmented reality implant displayed whenever a human spoke, AI translated to help her decipher the pidgin. AR was simply a part of her, had been since she was a kit.
Reclining as she was on a padded lounger in front of an iron brazier, full of cold ashes from last night's fire, Nshurr was dressed in a pale coral shift only a few shades darker than the peach of her fur. Medallions trailing fringes of cloth had been sewn onto the front bottom half of the knee-length garment. A row of those ornate medallions defined a plunging neckline that bared much of her chest, muscular and broad, possibly even masculine to a human. Her breasts were lower on her body and similar in appearance to a mare's udders: long nipples on a pudge of fat nestled close together on the pelvis, just above the place where her thighs joined her body. They were only small lumps beneath the shift when Nshurr stretched out her legs so that the thin fabric fell across them. It was the roundness of her hips and buttocks that marked her female to the human eye. (As if her crest didn't make that obvious!)
She was listening to the sound of two younger female cousins wrestling on a nearby terrace, and although from her vantage point Nshurr could not see them, she could imagine the scene from what she heard: Fherou and Lahk growling while they grappled with their arms, the crack of crest hitting crest and then the scrape of tine sliding against tine. Each was fighting to control the other's head, each trying to bite the other. It wasn't easy when each had a shaggy ruff to protect her neck, and any attempt to bite the other's face would be thwarted by an interposing crest. Rriigkhan hands were less dexterous than human hands, more pawlike with stubby fingers, but capable of delivering hard blows, and once or twice Nshurr heard a cousin snarl in response to a strike against her body.
The competitive pheromones her cousins exuded from their unextended howrfs, quite unconsciously, were beginning to make Nshurr's own heart beat faster. The end of her long tail, where it hung down from the reclining chair, lashed in agitation. She was beginning to imagine sinking her teeth into someone's skin herself, and if her cousins had not been so much younger and smaller than herself she might have gone down to their terrace to show them a thing or two. It was putting her off the human flute music she'd been listening to, fed directly into her own brain through her implant for her private enjoyment. (Certain aspects of human culture were very popular here on Sgarrl; she'd been curious about it.)
She did not feel like going inside to escape the pheromones; Nshurr craved the warmth of the sun on her fur, not the cool stone and artificial light of those warrens. Most of her male cousins had gone into the village for boating today. Well, perhaps she would go down and join them after all.
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OOC Information:
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For this prompt I imagine you'd play a human servant, probably a new arrival to Sgarrl but maybe someone who was born there. Even though I've set up a situation where my character would have a lot of power and yours very little, I want to clarify that I'm not interested in abusing your character I am looking for a slow burn interspecies romance that develops naturally. This story may deal with power imbalances and even speciesism, but I'd like to explore those topics realistically.
I want to explore all aspects of loving relationship... Flirting, cuddling, kissing, lots of romantic scenes and character growth. My “type” that I'm most attracted to are men with average bodies in the 40-60 age range, with realistic personality flaws. I am more than willing to tailor my character's personality and physical attributes to suit your tastes, within reason. I appreciate partners willing to do the same.
I prefer to reply more than once a day. 2-3 replies per day would be ideal, but I understand life gets in the way. I usually write 2-5 paragraphs, or 150-450 words per post. This starter is much longer than my typical post length, but my lengths vary according to need. If I'm introducing a new character or setting a scene, my post might go up to 1,000 words.
Please send a writing sample if you have none in your post history. No need to custom write anything for me, old samples are fine. Click here to PM me!

After recently coming across a Reddit post regarding Pigment dispersion syndrome, a condition which results in the pigment of your iris slowly releasing, revealing the pale blue layer beneath, along with a host of other less than desirable symptoms including atrophy of the iris, blurred vision, and even glaucoma, this post triggered a memory within me, long since forgotten. So long ago that I’m uncertain as to whether it was a dream or simply the product of a child’s wild imagination.
I must’ve been four at the time. My parents divorced 2 years after my birth, and I had been at my father’s house for the weekend. It was summer, and I’d been running around the yard enjoying the tranquility of a warm summer day in the countryside, much like many of us kids did in the 90’s before the advent of iPads and other electronic distractions. I’d been collecting different kinds of bugs around the yard which had led me into the garden in the far corner of the yard. That’s when I spotted it—a small white mass within the confines of a bush. At first, it appeared to be a stone of some sort, before I noticed its octopus-like tentacles emerge from beneath it, pulsating with an otherworldly type of energy. Two large blue eyes fluttered open on the mass, glistening in the sunlight. It appeared to be studying me with its silent eyes. Being a curious child, I began to step towards it. And then it happened—the creature morphed before my eyes, taking the form of a majestic bird, one I’d never seen before, its feathers shimmering in the breeze. I was mesmerized, unable to tear my gaze away as it transformed again, this time into a white cat, its eyes still that piercing shade of blue. My four-year-old mind raced with questions, but before I could make sense of it all, my father called me from the house, snapping me out of my trance. I ran back to the house, turning back once more to peer at the creature, its movements fluid and unnatural.
Upon entering the house, my dad had prepared lunch as I watched TV. Slowly, my mind began to drift from the strange creature I’d encountered in the garden. After lunch, my father told me he had to run out for a quick errand, retrieving some tools from down the road from a neighbor he’d lent them to. He said he’d only be gone for fifteen minutes and asked if I’d like to come along. Being all but transfixed on whatever show had been playing on the TV, I asked to stay home. Being only a quick errand, my father relented and set off through the front door.
Minutes turned to hours, and still, there was no sign of his return. Anxiety began to gnaw at my insides as I paced the living room, waiting for the sounds of his footsteps. It had begun to get dark outside when finally he returned home, strangely entering the house through the back door. I breathed a sigh of relief—until I noticed his eyes. Those once warm brown eyes, now a chilling shade of blue.

Hi,
Looking for outside perspective to gain either validation or an opportunity for my own accountability.
Situations:
He met with female coworker after working event to go eat McDonald’s. He hid that from me for some weird reason because she’s married and loyal and I like her. I just knew something was off because he was at McDonald’s for a long time and made it seem like he was alone. I confront him about hiding something from me and he tells me “You just don’t like me having female friends.” No…I don’t like you being dishonest.
Ex would get flirty with stranger at party while ignoring me sitting next to him. They would elbow each other and started creating inside jokes. I told him this bothered me and he told me he was just trying to make himself and me a friend. This was bs because he never introduced/encouraged interaction between the two of us. He asked what he could’ve done better. I took this as a good sign that he wanted to learn what went wrong. I told him that if he could just signal to other people that he was in a relationship some way, like touching my leg. He was like okay I’ll do that. Great.
Fast forward to going to a sporting event with him and his friends. He hadn’t seen his friends in like a year so I expected them to catch up. But as soon as his female friend started talking to me, he put his hand on my leg. Completely ignored me and started whispering with her and touching each other a lot (not inappropriately.. just so many friendly touches during convo). I subtly shoo his hand off my leg and calmly walk away. He doesn’t notice at first, but follows me when his female friend points it out that I got up. When he catches up to me, I unleash fury upon him… Not proud of that. I tell him what I don’t like and ask to be left alone. He goes back to sit with his friends and I later come back. Apparently his female friend mouthed to him “What’s wrong?” and he brushed it off. We had a nice rest of the game. At the end of it, she lovingly looks at him and then she smirks at me. Ugh.
After that, I looked at his phone…wanted to see if she said anything. And she did. She said “Hey I don’t know Feeling_Upstairs that well, but she didn’t seem like herself. Is everything okay?”. He texted her back “Yeah she just feels left out and anxious in a big group sometimes.” That made me feel so betrayed. Felt like they were both blaming me for reacting to it. I confront him about it and admit to looking at his phone. He’s upset of course that I looked at his phone, I get it. He’s looked at mine too, so it felt like a double standard that he would have so much ire over it. Either way, it’s wrong for me to do that. I ask him to have boundaries on his female friend (not being so touchy) and I get “We’ve been friends for so long though”, “You just don’t like me having female friends” (Not true, he has many that I was fine with), “We only talked for 5 minutes at the game”. (I don’t know how long they talked at the game..but it was long enough for his other friend to notice and make a comment to me about it). Hearing those statements from him made me really sad. Seemed like he wanted to put this one female friend above me. We talked about what happened at the game extensively and he reenacted how I shooed off his hand but made it seem like I did so violently and aggressively. He then told me that he had to baby me for the rest of the game. That deeply hurt because I thought we had a good time for the last part of the game and I never asked for or got reassurance so I didn’t feel like I was being “babied”.
Let me know your take on all of this. I feel really confused months later after breaking up.

I have a pretty mellow 10.5 week old baby. I am currently EBF him. He started having watery, brown stools, mucus stools and bloody stools around 4/30 at 4 weeks old. He is gaining tons of weight, does not complain, and sleeps decently.
Backstory to add context: My older child, now 3, was miserable as a newborn. She scream cried for hours and would never sleep in her bassinet/crib. We basically held her around the clock for 16 weeks. The pediatrician said it just sounded like a bit of colic. We noticed blood in her diaper at 4 months and the pediatrician confirmed with testing. I was EBF, so they recommended I stop eating dairy. I went off dairy, soy, and beef. She started solids soon after and we didn’t notice blood anymore.
At 1 our pediatrician said she’d probably outgrown CMPA so we could test out giving her an ounce of cow’s milk. She had an anaphylactic reaction and had to be brought to the ER in an ambulance.
Blood and skin testing confirmed her allergy to cow’s milk at 16 months and 2.5 years old. She now can tolerate small amounts of baked milk, but will still have some hives around her mouth from time to time. I stayed dairy free until I stopped BFing her at 20 months. I reintroduced soy and beef after she passed the allergy testing at 16 months.
Thinking back to that experience, I was terrified my second child would have the same reaction. He has been such a calm baby in comparison. I still watched his poops semi-obsessively and brought him in to the pediatrician on 5/1 as soon as I noticed a change. They tested for blood and it came back positive. They recommended I stop dairy. I’ve been dairy-free since.
When we went back for a follow-up on 5/13 and he still was having bloody diapers, they said cutting soy would be the next step. I’ve been soy free since (including soybean oil and soy lecithin).
I brought him in on 5/30 for his 2 month appointment and showed them pictures of the bloody diapers he still was having. They said that if he was still bleeding then it must be something in my diet that he was still reacting to. She said to cut dairy, soy, peanuts, tree nuts, wheat, strawberries, citrus fruits, egg, and corn. She also recommended that I pump for two weeks and give him Elecare to allow his gut to heal.
Stopping breastfeeding cold turkey didn’t feel right to me, so I just changed my diet and continued to BF him. I noticed just a few specks of blood in his diaper for the first few days, but then he had a pretty bloody diaper again after I had eaten black beans two days in a row.
Feeling defeated, we decided to try pumping, storing the milk, and giving him Elecare. He took the first 2 ounce bottle ok, drank 2 out of 4 ounces of the next bottle, and then spent 2 hours screaming. We tried to give him another 2 ounce bottle, but he only drank 1 ounce and scream cried even harder. After almost 8 hours of him being completely miserable, I BF him. I decided I’d rather eat an elimination diet forever than him scream like my daughter did.
I’ve stuck with the elimination diet (while also cutting black beans) since. I’m now on day 11. He still has mucusy stools most of the time and small flecks of blood in 1-3 diapers a day. I figured it might just be that he needs longer to heal.
But this morning he had another diaper with a greater amount of blood. Not as much as with the beans, but enough that I questioned if I’m doing the right thing. The only new thing I ate was cantaloupe yesterday.
I’m wondering if I should just try to give him the Elecare again. Should we stick it out longer than 8 hours? I just don’t know what is worse - blood in his diaper after BFing (with the happiest demeanor) or screaming in pain after the Elecare.
Has anyone else had a similar experience?

Article Text:
If there is one man in Britain who embodies the way our politics have changed, and continue to change after October 7, it is Akhmed Yakoob, the independent candidate for Birmingham Ladywood.
Yakoob is a 36-year-old defence solicitor who wears black Prada trainers, a glittering diamond watch, tinted gold-framed sunglasses and Gareth Southgate-like waistcoats. He has 195,000 followers on TikTok, a platform he understands more intuitively than 99 per cent of the politicians in this country. He speaks in clipped, brutal epigrams that sound like they are only ever a few seconds away from going viral on social media. He calls the Prophet Muhammad his biggest political influence. Offline he campaigns on the street, inside takeaways and from the cream leather seat of a shining black Mercedes S-Class Saloon. The word “genocide” is never far from Yakoob’s mouth.
This year, standing on a pro-Gaza, anti-Labour platform, he racked up almost 70,000 votes in the West Midlands mayoral election, mainly from deprived inner city wards in the Birmingham Ladywood constituency he is now trying to wrest from Shabana Mahmood, the shadow justice secretary. Labour’s Richard Parker narrowly won the mayoral election, taking 225,590 votes, 1,508 more than the Conservatives’ Andy Street. Yakoob’s presence in the race made it much closer. Though he came third, securing 20 per cent of the vote gave him substance and a political base. Yakoob is furious about the war in Gaza.
He prints “For Gaza” on all his leaflets. He says the war is why he entered politics. He knows it represents a key dividing line with Labour, even as the party prepares to make new commitments to a peace process, if not unilateral support for a Palestinian state, in its manifesto next week. But there is nothing Labour can say or promise to bring back some Muslim voters now.
The same fury Yakoob feels is the basis for other independent challenges to Labour across Birmingham. In Edgbaston, Dr Ammar Waraich, a neurologist and former Harvard Fulbright scholar, is trying to topple Preet Kaur Gill, the Labour candidate. Waraich says he quit the party, as many other Muslims did, when Sir Keir Starmer told LBC on October 11 that Israel “had the right” to withhold water and power from Gaza. In Selly Oak, Kamel Hawwash, a civil engineering professor at the University of Birmingham and a former head of the Palestinian Solidarity Campaign, is running against the shadow veterans minister Steve McCabe.
Both seats, like those in former mill towns (Rochdale, Blackburn) and inner city areas (Ilford North, Leicester East) across the country where independents believe they have a chance of embarrassing the Labour Party, have significant Muslim populations. At May’s local elections, an analysis by Sky News found that in areas with a Muslim population above 20 per cent Starmer’s party lost 17.9 points from their vote share.
A targeted Labour fightback in Muslim areas, including focus groups and internal polling, began in January. This week the LabourList site published a list of the party’s “battleground areas”: 250 constituencies into which the party is funnelling significant resources, part of a campaign to win a healthy parliamentary majority. But the party is also directing activists to 22 seats where the party already has a large majority. It looks like a rearguard action. Several of these areas have a higher-than-average Muslim population.
Muslims make up 43 per cent of the electorate in Birmingham Ladywood, according to the Muslim Vote, a group that is trying to cohere Muslim voters behind pro-Gaza candidates. Mahmood has been the MP here since 2010, taking the seat from Clare Short, the former New Labour minister who resigned two months after the Iraq war began in March 2003. Short, as Yakoob is today, was a persistent critic of Labour’s foreign policy in the Middle East.
After refusing to serve in the shadow cabinet under Jeremy Corbyn, Mahmood became an early backer of the influential Starmerite think tank Labour Together and a key figure in Starmer’s plans for government. Based on the results of the 2019 general election, when Mahmood won 79 per cent of the vote, Ladywood should be one of the safest Labour seats in the country.
Boundary changes introduced this year complicate that picture. Alum Rock, an inner-city area that has a 93.6 per cent ethnic minority population, will become part of Ladywood. When you spend a day canvassing with Yakoob you begin to see why this might be a much trickier contest for Labour than anyone would have predicted a year ago. Ladywood is now one of the party’s “battleground areas”. Yakoob’s team believes that activists are being brought into the constituency because locals are refusing to campaign for Mahmood because of her abstention on a motion calling for a ceasefire in the Israel-Gaza war last November. Labour call this claim “absolute nonsense”. The independent candidates share ideas and strategies. They often campaign together.
“Everybody was saying to me ‘Labour machinery this, Labour machinery that,’” Yakoob says from the front seat of the Mercedes, which is being tailed by a pair of black German sedans filled with his volunteers, mostly young men wearing Asos suits.
“So what? I don’t really care about the machinery. Can they buy the love of people? No.” Yakoob smiles broadly. He jabs a hand out, as if he were standing at a podium addressing the entire city.
“They can spend millions but they can’t take the love of the people for me out of their hearts. That’s what they can’t take.”
His family are from Azad Kashmir, a region in the disputed territory controlled by Pakistan. His father came to Britain in the 1970s, worked as a milk salesman, then retired to Pakistan. Yakoob was born in the City Hospital on Dudley Road in 1988. He has four brothers, four sisters and four children. He tells his life story and gritty legal anecdotes on podcasts and through his 30-second, self-consciously aspirational social media videos.
Rags to riches is the vibe. He used to own a fleet of supercars, including a Rolls-Royce and a Lamborghini. The cars have since been jettisoned; Yakoob says he has “grown out of them”. Politics is taking over his life. His flashy, brash populist style makes Yakoob the closest thing politically adrift British Muslims have to Nigel Farage. He has been endorsed by George Galloway.
Yakoob is under investigation from the Solicitors Regulation Authority after he used social media to promote a false claim of racism against a teacher last month. Yakoob later deleted the posts and issued a statement saying that he would not make any comment until the outcome of the investigation.
Yakoob disrupts things wherever he goes. Handing out leaflets near a primary school on Wednesday afternoon, crowds swirl around him. Women in hijabs tell him they love him. Countless pictures are taken. People practically throw their children at him. Yakoob switches between Urdu patter and his drawling, lispy Brummie English. “Inshallah,” he says whenever these parents tell him “next time you will win”.
The afternoon before, Yakoob was campaigning at the gates of the nearby Rockwood Academy. It used to be known as Park View School. In 2014, Park View was at the heart of an inquiry into discredited allegations of a plot to oust some Birmingham head teachers and make their schools adhere to more conservative Islamic principles. The so-called Trojan Horse scandal remains a sore issue locally. By campaigning outside the school, Yakoob is picking at a scab.
“I don’t know why he does it,” said one teacher who didn’t want to be named. “Why kids?” When Yakoob appeared outside the school, hundreds of children tried to take selfies with him. That evening at a packed meeting at a Bangladeshi restaurant, Yakoob calls for a public inquiry into the Trojan Horse affair. The room shakes with applause.
Along Green Lane, a squeezed road on a dumpy street where cars are parked at every angle and Palestinian flags are tied to the lamp posts, Yakoob literally stops traffic. Drivers slow down to yell and shout their support at him. He runs haphazardly towards them brandishing leaflets coloured with the black, green and red of the Palestinian flag. It’s a total macho circus act, pure street politics. “Everyone knows me,” he says.
A little girl walks up to Yakoob with her mother, who does not speak English very well. “Give us a good reason to vote for you.” Yakoob gets down on his haunches. He is face to face with the girl. He calls her “little sister”.
“None of our MPs spoke about Gaza.” He says this very slowly and patiently, so she can understand him. “There was a vote in the House of Commons and our MP for Ladywood … she actually abstained from voting.” The girl is satisfied with this. She leads her mother away, taking a leaflet to go.
There are local issues here. The roads sweat with traffic and pollution. Uncollected rubbish, stinking in the mild June weather, is piled up near abandoned, shattered pubs. People complain about potholes and rat infestations. More than half the children in the constituency, 54.6 per cent, are living in poverty, according to End Child Poverty — the highest rate of any constituency in the country.
Later one man, an elderly solicitor, tells me Alum Rock is a ghetto, and Mahmood should be ashamed of it. Yakoob’s team claims Mahmood cannot campaign there, such is the anger towards her. They also say a senior figure from one of Mahmood’s previous campaigns has defected to Yakoob. Both claims are, again, “absolute nonsense”, a Labour spokesperson says.
Mahmood says she is “delighted” to be Labour’s candidate in Birmingham Ladywood, “the city my family has called home since my parents first arrived from rural Kashmir”.
When we visit the 20-tent pro-Gaza encampment that sprouts from the ground in the middle of Aston University with Yakoob, one student, a bearded 20-year-old who did not wish to be named, was unequivocal: “Power must be taken away from the Labour Party.”
That evening, senior figures from the Bengali community gather to address Yakoob in the upstairs room of a Bangladeshi restaurant on Coventry Road. The room looks like it has been decorated for a wedding reception — which is somewhat eerie, because no women are present.
A succession of bigwigs are introduced. This brother runs a printing business. That brother is a mufti, an Islamic jurist. They are serious men, and they feel deeply betrayed by the Labour Party that their families have voted for since they came to Britain.
One man recalls his father’s friendship with Lord Hattersley, who was MP for Birmingham Sparkbrook from 1964 to 1997. He says he will never vote for Labour again after Gaza. “They have hurt us so much.” His voice is grave. I watch as speaker after speaker effectively pledges allegiance to Yakoob. These men are planning for the long term.
“We are all here until we die,” says one. “So we need to make sure we make a playing field for our next generation.”
Is Yakoob that next generation? Victory over Mahmood would probably be the biggest shock of this election. It remains unlikely, but it is not unthinkable. His campaign is more fascinating for what it represents than what it might achieve. It is amateurish, not professional, and built on charisma not data. He wants the approval of TikTok, not the BBC. Akhmed Yakoob might just be a curiosity. Or he could be the first sign of a truly new sectarian politics in Britain.

Aidin didn't need another cautionary tale about the Phaal, but he could tell from the slight crinkle of Isa's forehead that he was about to hear one.
"There's something else you should know," she said.
So predictable. "If you're going to tell me how deadly-"
"It's not that," she interrupted, and it suddenly occurred to Aidin that he was probably just as predictable to her as she was to him. "It's something else. Something worse."
"What's worse than-"
"They can read minds. They can read your mind. Human minds. They might be reading your mind right now."
"I see," nodded Aidin, digesting the information. "Actually, I don't think I do see. Why is that worse?"
"Because the only way we're getting out of here is if you can beat them at Phaal's Poker."
Aidin and Isa were sat on the floor of a holding cell, but it was unlike any of the cells they'd found themselves in before. And they'd found themselves in plenty. For most artefact dealers, there was a fine line between running a successful operation and staying on the right side of The Expanse's arbiters. Usually you had to pick one.
Their cell was shaped like the number 8, with two, circular chambers separated by a gap just wide enough to squeeze a human arm through. They could've passed items to each other had they been allowed to keep anything worth passing. Instead, all they'd exchanged so far were words and glances. And thoughts.
Each half of the cell was empty save from a polymer bucket, and a singular light hung in the gap, half-heartedly illuminating both halves at the same time.
It was hard for either of them to know how long they'd been there. There were no windows, and besides, time moved strangely in these far-flung corners of The Expanse. Still, Aidin's stomach had given way to a deep, aching growl. They'd clearly been here for too long.
___
Phaal's Poker. Aidin had only heard the rumours. Invented by the Phaal, mastered by the Phaal. It was said that nobody could beat them at their own game, least of all humans, and now he understood why. How do you deceive something that knows what you're thinking?
"Can't you play?" asked Aidin.
Isa shook her head. "They can't read me. They'll insist on playing you."
Aidin's eyes dropped and settled on his moaning gut. He was used to hunger, but this felt different. Like his body had resorted to feeding on itself.
"Right. Excellent. And if I lose?"
Isa raised an eyebrow. "Don't lose."
Aidin sighed. This was not what he had envisioned when he took the job, but jobs like this rarely went as planned. That much he knew. "So what're the rules?"
"Ah, yes." Isa straightened, her eyes widening with an enthusiasm that felt at odds with their current predicament. "It's actually a rather elegant game."
"Well then, lucky me," said Aidin, his patience eroding with every gurgling hunger pang. Isa persevered.
"Two players face each other. Each player takes a coin - but it can be anything small and flat - and places it - secretly, mind - into one of their hands - or whatever they use to hold stuff." Isa's excitement continued to build. "You win by finding your opponent's coin and tricking them into missing yours."
"What if you both find each other's coins?"
"Then the game starts again. Same if both players get it wrong, but-" she caught herself. "But-"
"-Phaal don't get it wrong." offered Aidin.
Isa slumped back against the wall. "No, they don't. At least, not when they're playing humans."
"So if the Phaal never miss, it means I can't win," reasoned Aidin. "I can only delay the inevitable by forcing a rematch."
"Yes. That's the long and short of it," said Isa. "But perhaps..." she trailed off, and Aidin interrogated the slight narrowing of her eyes. He'd seen that squint before.
"You've got an idea, haven't you?" he said.
"What if," ventured Isa, "there is a way?" At this she stood up, her dormant bones clicking back into action. She paced back and forth across the diameter of her half of the cell, moving in and out of Aidin's view through the small gap that separated them. Her lips moved silently, her fingers traced patterns in the air.
"I'm listening," said Aidin, veiling his intense relief as best he could. She always had an idea. "Whenever you're ready."
After what felt to Aidin like an age, Isa stopped in the middle of her cell and moved close to the gap, locking eyes with him again. The light hovered above her head, and it reminded Aidin of the cartoons he used to watch back on Earth. This was an idea alright.
Isa pointed at him: "You have one advantage over the other humans who have played Phaal's Poker, don't you?" Aidin nodded, but he didn't know what she was talking about. Isa sensed it. "Aidin, you know they can read your mind. The others won't have known. We can use that."
"Okay. Yeah. I can see it. Fine." He stared at her blankly. "But how exactly? If I'm thinking about lying about which hand my coin is in, they're still going to know I'm lying."
"Sure", said Isa. She was confident now, like a detective about to reveal the culprit. "But what if you don't think about the game at all?"
___
Aidin's eyes burned into the silhouetted backs of the two human guards that escorted him down a dark, seemingly endless corridor. "You can talk to me y'know," he spat. No response. Fucking traitors.
The width of the corridor fluctuated. In parts it was wide - almost palatial - but then the wood-panelled walls would tighten inwards and suddenly it was so narrow that the guards had to walk in single-file. Then they'd open up again. Intermittent lights along the ceiling made their shadows shorten and stretch.
He hadn't seen wood for some time, let alone wood-panels. These Phaal were wealthy - trees didn't grow on planets in these parts. If not for his bounds he would've reached out and ran his fingers along them.
Without warning the guards stopped outside a door. One turned to face him, and Aidin opened his mouth, ready to tell him what he thought about humans that had crossed over. But all he could muster was a stifled gasp.
The guard's eyes had been gouged out, leaving two, pitted caverns in their place. Two smaller holes punctured a flat, scarred surface where his nose should've been, and his mouth was sewn shut with rusted, blood-stained wire. His ears were still in tact.
The guard reached for the door handle with a gloved hand, and Aidin scrambled to gather himself. This is what could happen to me, he thought. This is what could happen if I lose.
The door swung open. Aidin's hunger continued to eat away at his insides.
___
A small, wooden coin was placed in front of each player by one of the mutilated guards that had escorted Aidin to the room. Like his cell, the room was empty save for the metal table and chairs on which they sat and a light that glowed above them. But unlike his cell, this one was square. Disgusting place, he thought.
He glanced up at the Phaal sat across from him, remembering with a spike of panic that his thoughts weren't private anymore. But it was unclear to him whether it was listening: just like the two human guards stood either side of them, the Phaal were faceless.
He had never seen one in real life before, but Isa's description was pretty accurate. Humans are mostly carbon and oxygen, Phaal are mostly calcium and keratin. Imagine if you tried to piece together a human using only bones, teeth, nails and hair.
Its whole chest was covered by a wooden-beaded necklace, which, based on the differing shades of brown, looked like an assortment of various woods. More posturing.
With a sudden lurch, the Phaal raised a hand and placed it on top of its coin. The hand was human-like in shape, but paper-white and hard. Thick cables of hair coiled around each finger, digging grooves into their surface like a vine eroding the brick of a decaying building. It dragged the coin off the table with a screech that felt like it was peeling away at Aidin's eardrums.
Aidin - his bounds cut once the door to the room had been shut - took his own coin in response, passed it between his sweat-lined hands and recited Isa's words in his mind over and over, like a mantra. Grip one half of the coin with your left hand, and the other half of the coin with your right. Then focus on what you'll eat when we get out of here.
The Phaal angled its head slightly, and Aidin wondered whether it was listening now. After a moment, the blank oval of bone, hair and teeth rocked back and fourth very slowly. It was nodding. Then it placed two clenched fists on the table.
Grip one half of the coin with your left hand, and the other half of the coin with your right. Then focus on what you'll eat when we get out of here.
Aidin closed his eyes and thought about food. He knew that the food he'd be eating if he ever escaped this place would likely be the same food he and Isa had eaten since they'd met all those years ago. A grool of proteins, most of which could be harvested from even the most barren atmospheres of The Outer Expanse.
But his mind was a pantry, and he had stocked it with a myriad of memories. He remembered melted cheese on home-baked bread. He could almost taste his mother's cinnamon apples and golden custard. He could recall the smell of fried potatoes with such precision that it almost felt to Aidin as though they, and not his own coiled hands, had just been placed onto the table in front of him.
Focus on what you'll eat when you get out of here. Fruit. Grapes. The juice of those grapes. God damn I miss grapes. Fucking grapes. I never even wanted 'em when I was a kid. Now I'd kill for a grape. Fuck it I'd die for a grape. I'd-
A cold, callous touch to his right hand dragged his mind away from the grapes and back into the room.
The Phaal had made its choice. And as soon as Aidin realised what was happening, the Phaal knew that it had chosen wrongly.
The coin had found its way into Aidin's left hand.
Now it was Aidin's turn to choose. My turn, he thought, and the Phaal nodded again.

So like every stereo typical indian family we got a gas station. I’ve been working there recently because dad needs help, although i was always the type to avoid it due to not wanting to be associated with stereotypes. I’ve grown out of that though and now i know that i can do whatever it takes for my family and I will never feel shame. Moving on to the story, our station is in a rich neighborhood so people in the area often use our station to do personal sales for their vehicles. Recently we had someone drop off their 69 fastback mustang for sale so i keep it outside during the days and park it inside at closing. I always have my eye on the car too because you never know what kind of ideas people will get. We have do not touch signs on the vehicles but obviously not everyone likes to listen so sometimes I have to remind them.
Around 7pm yesterday i noticed this older caucasian man by the car and he was placing his hands all over it. obviously i can’t allow this so i head outside and ask him nicely if he doesn’t mind avoiding touching the car and to also let me know if he has any questions about it in case he’s interested in purchasing. He says he’s fine and then tell me my brown ass should get back to work. At first i just turned around and started walking away because i didn’t even realize what he said. when you’re in the customer service mindset you just tune out what people say and pass them a fake smile. a few seconds after realizing what he said i made my way straight to the pump where he was pumping his truck, removed it, and told him he needs to leave my station and he’s never welcome back. He got so mad. i was waiting by the driver side door to intimidate him and get him to leave but as he was about to get in, he pushed me to the floor. Then i got mad lol.
my cousin also works at the station with me and he finally noticed what was going on so he comes outside and starts recording (he knows i got this :))at just the right moment hehe. Then way i fell i was able to keep him from getting back in his car so he wasn’t able to just push me to the floor and escape like he was hoping to do. finally i get back up and as he tries to shove again instead I used the technique i learned in high school football and sacked him to the floor. i punched his face once and gave him a nosebleed and then got back up, opened his door, and told him to leave. He started whining like a child because i was touching his car and i just laughed. slammed his door and kicked his bumper on the way out(i agree that wasn’t smart). My dad was mad at me for resorting to violence but i’ve never been more satisfied in my life lol. Anyways sorry for the rant i just wanted this story to be heard because i feel proud for holding my ground. My little cousin who was recording is definitely proud haha, although i made him delete the video after because obviously i’m not going to teach him that its ok to act like one of those kids that records school fights lol.

Lydia awoke with Waldo screaming. Lydia quickly got up and activated the magic stones lighting the room, Lydia did not see a reason for him to be screaming and was about to wake him when he went quiet. Lydia wondered what had happened and as she watched him she became concerned he was not breathing but just as she was about to shake him away he started breathing again then he began to weep in his sleep saying “I would take it back if I could. I did not know what it meant. Please, I never meant for this.” Lydia watched over him for several minutes as he repeated this over and over. Lydia did not know why but after a while she embraced him gently.
“It is ok. We all make mistakes.” Lydia said quietly holding him. She did not entirely know why she chose to do this as she felt some concern over what he was apologizing for having done but something made her decide to stay with him. Eventually, he stopped and started sleeping peacefully. Lydia slowly fell back to sleep after he quieted and returned to a peaceful state.
Lydia awoke again with Waldo sitting dressed on the edge of the bed. “Good Morning.”
“Good Morning.” Waldo replied, turning to Lydia. “Sorry, if I woke you in the night. I do not always sleep well.”
“I can understand that. It took almost a year before I could sleep through the night.” Lydia replied.
“I brought breakfast up. Kna mentioned I screamed in the middle of the night. I rarely have a companion… So I did not know. I guess I was extra loud last night. I woke some other patrons.” Waldo said calmly. Lydia climbed out of bed and dressed herself as Waldo watched her but when she looked at him she felt he was lost in his own mind.
"Copper for your thoughts.” Lydia said as she started to lace up her dress. Waldo walked over to her and helped her.
“I thought I knew who I was…but I remembered things last night…” Waldo said hollowly. “I don’t know what I was fighting for… All that time as a soldier and now I remembered… what I learned before arriving here and it isn’t what I thought.”
“Do you want to elaborate?” Lydia asked.
“I am not sure I know how.” Waldo said and there was silence for a moment.
“Well, maybe you should stay here if you don’t know why you were fighting. At least, until you figure out what you want.” Lydia said and feeling better about what she had heard last night she kissed him gently on the cheek. “Thank you. I would stay for breakfast but I need to get to work.” Lydia said, grabbing a piece of bread with an egg off the plate.
“Have a nice day and I hope to see you later.” Waldo said, as she headed toward the door.
“Good luck today!” Lydia said, smiling and left. Waldo collected several things from his pack then stored it under the bed and took the plate of food to the common room where he ate slowly. Waldo noticed that Lydia was not in the common room as he ate breakfast. Waldo did not have to wait long after finishing his breakfast before Strisk arrived.
“Good Morning!” Strisk waved at Waldo moving across the common room.
“Greetings Strisk.” Waldo replied standing and moving to meet him.
“Are you ready to go down to the training grounds?” Strisk asked.
“Yeah, let’s head out.” Waldo said, motioning for Strisk to lead the way.
“Are you in a hurry?” Strisk asked, leading Waldo out.
“No, nothing like that just…” Waldo stopped in the door exiting the inn as he looked out into the city. Waldo had expected Protham to be small but realized it had been dark when he arrived and late that is why he had not realized how expansive it was. Waldo saw a wall sixty or seventy feet tall. Waldo stepped into the street and could see a gate two hundred or so feet down the road in one direction and in the other there was what appeared to be a small square. “How big is Protham?”
“It is just a small village, only five thousand or so. Most people are employed in fishing the lake or harvesting trees.” Strisk replied. “The gnolls recently opened a college here… Something about ley lines and increased power, but that is not my expertise.”
“I am surprised they even care about the ley line. The planet is so saturated with magic I would have thought everyone can easily use it.” Waldo responded.
“I wouldn’t know about that. Are you a mage?” Strisk asked.
“I cannot use magic… I can still feel it pooling.” Waldo said, wondering why he could feel it still since he now knew he could not use it. “It must be something to do with the leveling. I wonder if there is a construct powering the whole system.”
“You are suggesting a magic artifact causes people to level?”Strisk asked, shocked at the strangeness of the idea.
“Um… So I assume it is a mage college of some kind they opened?” Waldo asked, trying to change topics.
“Yeah. I would have suggested going and seeing the head there about your teleporting but from what I have heard they see almost no one who isn’t a student.” Strisk said, starting to walk down the street. Waldo followed, taking in the people and the streets. Waldo noticed most people were gnollish he saw drakes as well but it seemed to be ten to one.
“Lydia said you are a Drake. I have never learned to identify the scaled races apart from one another. It appears that Protham is mostly gnolls and Drakes. What makes a drake a drake and not say a lizardfolk?” Waldo asked, carefully.
“Lydia is right. I am a Drake. Lizardfolk always have tails. Drakes rarely have tails and those that do have a tail almost always have wings. That is usually the easiest way to tell us apart but it is more nuanced. A healthy Drake’s scales are vibrant, we stand out. A healthy lizardfolk has duller scales. Drakes can have horns or spikes across their head and back but never hair. Lizardfolk never have horns but can grow spikes. Usually they grow something more like a fin, which can be over their head or even down their chin to their chest. All the facial features are nuanced except the eye. Drake’s eyes face forward. Lizardfolk’s eyes face out enough to easily tell if you look at them.” Strisk explained calmly. “Kobolds are short but look like Drakes with a tail and all the other scaled races have gills.”
“Thank you. I realize that might have been rude to ask but I assume it is ruder to make a mistake.” Waldo said as they continued to make their way through the mostly empty streets.
“Most drakes consider it the pinnacle of rudeness to mistake us for the lizardfolk. Well the lizardfolk seem indifferent. I once saw a short Lizardman get mistaken for a Kobold and they laughed about it. Well a few days ago I had to break up a bar fight cause a gnoll called a drake a lizard.” Strisk said. “My people need to calm down about being mistaken for another race. Most cannot even tell the other races apart. No offense, but I assume you are a human because Lydia is one without looking at your ears, which are currently covered by your hair you could pass for an elf in my eyes and if you told me you were a dwarf I would believe it… even though, I think you are too tall to be a dwarf.” Waldo laughed at Strisk’s words.
“An elf you say?” Waldo said, smiling and moving his hair from over his ears. “I am a human. However, I can understand the confusion. Even among humans it is possible for some to mistake another human as one of our kin races.”
“Kin race?” Strisk asked.
“Yes, races that share certain broad features and where half races are possible.” Waldo said.
“Then would Drakes not be a Kin race.” Strisk asked.
“You ever seen a half human and half drake?” Waldo asked.
“Well no, but I was told it was possible.” Strisk said, wondering.
“Possible for our race's women’s bodies to respond as if they are creating a blend. However, it is largely my understanding no blend has survived birth. Maybe one is out there but largely our internal anatomy; bone structure, organ placement, organs in general, and finer points don’t blend into something that survives birth if a pregnancy occurs which to my knowledge is extremely rare and usually it is a half race not a full where that can occur according to one report I read most mothers die in labor if they carry the blend to term and the child still dies.” Waldo said calmly. Strisk stopped.
“How do you know this?” Strisk asked. Waldo thought about it for a moment. Realizing he did not know how to explain having millions of years of knowledge on hand a little surprised he had so easily recalled something from another life. As he thought about it he wondered how he could so easily access it. Then he knew. Four of his prior selves had learned to build a mind palace. When the Orc had implanted all the memories, those four had combined their knowledge and laid out everything, which made him wonder how he knew about the interbreeding of humans and drakes, which brought forth the memories of four doctors. One of which was drake. Strisk watched as Waldo stared off into the distance. Suddenly, Waldo went pale and threw up in the street. “What the hell?” Strisk said, jumping back to avoid getting splattered.
“Sorry.” Waldo said, feeling queasy. Waldo pushed the doctor’s memories away realizing he was not ready to go exploring all the memories aimlessly. Waldo pulled out his hip canteen and washed his mouth out. Spitting the water down a nearby drain “Damn. I was hoping to not have to eat until dinner. I assume the interview will have a combat skills test?” Waldo asked, looking at Strisk.
“Well yes, but what was that?” Strisk asked, feeling the response was unjustified for his question.
“Oh, right, your question. Um… I went to a memory I should have left alone. I was thinking about my time studying… when I strayed into an incident.” Waldo said, trying to explain without lying.
“An incident?” Strisk asked.
“I expect there are things you have seen as a city guard you would rather not remember.” Waldo replied, carefully.
“Oh… you mean something like that. I can understand that. Let’s continue on. Just another block or so.” Strisk said, letting Waldo follow him. Neither said anything until they got to the city's barracks. They had crossed near the center of town and were now at a lakeside gate that had a training arena with a large gatehouse next to it.
“How many positions is the guard filling?” Waldo asked as they approached the building.
“We are adding five new full time positions in hope of growth due to the mage college, three part time, and around fifty new reservists.” Strisk said and then opened the gatehouse’s front door.
“Good Morning, Strisk!” A female voice behind the counter greeted as they entered.
“Good Morning, Violet.” Strisk replied. “Is Trag in?”
“Yes, he got in a bit ago and…Who are you?” Violet asked, staring at Waldo as he entered the gatehouse.
“Waldo Winter.” Waldo said, step into the room and bowing slightly to the human girl behind the counter.
“He is with me. Violet. He arrived in town last night under strange circumstances.” Strisk said.
“Is he why you are meeting with Trag this early?” Violet asked, keeping her eyes on Waldo. “Is he a criminal?”
“Yes to the meeting with Trag and not as far as I am aware. You haven’t done anything illegal have you?” Strisk asked, grinning Waldo.
“Admittedly, I have not read your legal code, but assuming it follows traditional patterns of legal codes for structured societies. Not in this city. At least, I very much doubt I have.” Waldo said, smiling lightly at Violet.
“What are you doing here then?” Violet asked.
“Apart from identifying myself to local authorities due to the strange way I arrived. Hopefully, applying for a job.” Waldo stated. Violet frowned.
“Are you applying for citizenship in Protham or just submitting notice of intent to work in Protham?” Violet asked.
“Notice of intent to work, at this time.” Waldo replied, moving up to the desk as Strisk stepped away. Violet handed him a sheet of paper and pulled out a second enchanted page.
“Good luck finding work here. There are not many jobs outside of scribe, barworker, or general laborer for humans in Protham. The Drakes and Gnolls are larger and stronger than humans naturally and they are basically hiring enforcers right now.” Violet whispered to Waldo. “Where are you staying?”
“The Spriggan Inn.” Waldo said, looking at the form, surprised he could read it. As he started to fill out the form he remembered a passage about grown arrivals passing between world and being gifted languages of the worlds they arrived on from death. Waldo tried to remember the author's reasoning for the gift but could not. Waldo wished he had learned written gnollish languages but had only learned their spoken languages.
“How did you come to be there?” Violet said, showing surprise.
“Long story short…Some sort of teleportation accident.” Waldo answered, focused on completing the form.
“Wow… Lucky.” Violet said, thinking it strange he appeared in the only inn with a human working in it in Protham.
“Yes, but I suspect there is a good reason for that.” Waldo said, handing her the completed form.
“You how to read Grofeas gnoll?” Strisk asked, looking at Waldo holding the form out to Violet. “You said you had not heard of this country last night.” Violet took the form looking suspiciously at Waldo.
"No, I am familiar with other gnollish written languages and this is close enough to them that I guessed. Please check that and make sure my responses make sense.” Waldo said, looking at Violet. Waldo smiled at his omission. He was familiar with several gnoll written languages and had learned a few key words like bathroom, food, and price but had not even memorized their alphabet. Violet started to look over the document carefully. Waldo noticed the enchanted page on the desk had a picture of his face on it now with a list of several things about him, such as height, an approximate weight, and the like. Waldo heard a low growl with several inflections. Waldo looked at the gnoll standing by Strisk.
“Would you mind repeating that? I am not sure I quite heard what you said, because I thought you called me a fur lover.” Waldo said, looking narrowly at the gnoll. The gnoll made several more growls at Waldo. The gnoll had reddish brown fur and stood a little shorter than Strisk. Waldo thought the gnoll would probably be considered extremely handsome among gnolls. He was well groomed and clearly muscled under the fur. He even wore a steel breastplate that was polished to a shine. Waldo saw a stamp over his right peck that appeared to be a runic enchantment.
“Because I am not. I learned it at the time because my life depended on it. The gnolls I met were not as affluent as you are here and only knew one language. Their own. I had to learn it or live without speaking. Their treatment of me would have killed me if I had not learned their language. They knew next to nothing of humans and were a tribe secluded in the mountains. They meant well, but due to the harsh circumstances of the location I was slowly dying from starvation and exposure. It took four weeks to learn enough for rough communication after which I found them to be extremely friendly and curious. I spent two years with that tribe before making contact with a human settlement in the area. I managed to broker a peace there because I learned gnollish. So I continued my education and have since learned various spoken dialects.” Waldo responded to the newcomers' growls calmly.
“Why don’t you respond in gnollish?” The gnoll asked, changing languages. Waldo growled back in several inflections and moved a hand. Violet had noticed hand movements when gnolls growled and never associated it with them speaking but Waldo’s movements were so pronounced she realized it had to be part of the gnollish language. “Fair enough. I am Captain Trag. Strisk says you are a soldier.”
“Wait what did you say?” Violet asked Waldo.
“Violet. Don’t be rude.” Strisk chided, curious himself but having held himself back.
“I am sorry. I have just never seen a non-gnoll speak gnollish” Violet said, almost involuntarily. Trag slapped Strisk across the back of the head.
“Strisk, she is our scribe, do not order her around.” Trag said, smiling. Waldo got the sense that Trag did not like Strisk.
“I explained human throats are not well formed for the gnollish language, which hurts my throat the more I speak it and makes my accompanying hand movements more pronounced than is proper.” Waldo explained to Violet.
“Can you teach me?” Violet asked, seeing how beneficial it would be to know gnollish in her job.
“We can talk after the interview.” Waldo said, smiling at Violet.
“Right, sorry. Thank you.” Violet replied looking over at Trag apologetically.
“Excuse me for interrupting your conversation Violet. I will make sure to send Waldo back once we are done.” Trag said, smiling at Violet then turning to Waldo. “What level of soldier are you? Or is it some other fighting class?”
“I don’t have any levels in fighting classes.” Waldo replied.
“And you want to be a city guard?” Trag said looking angrily at Strisk who looked at Waldo surprised.
“Wait, are you a medic of somekind?” Strisk asked, remembering the other night.
“No, just give me a chance. We should go to the training ground if combat assessment is to be a large part of this process.” Waldo stated, a little surprised they had started asking questions in the entrance.
“It is. We can train you in Protham legal code, but we rarely do combat training for our guards; most people come to us with twenty or more levels in a combat class, when they are applying to be a guard.” Trag stated, as Waldo opened the door.
“Where I come from people do not rely on the leveling systems for combat training.” Waldo started walking to the training grounds as Trag and Strisk followed.
“Where are you from?” Trag asked.
“Halcyon. Heard of it?” Waldo asked, knowing the reply.
“Nope.” Trag replied, thinking this human could never keep up with a gnoll or drake in a fight. “What are you wearing?” Trag asked, no longer able to hold back the question as the human looked very strange to him.
“Desert Armored Combat Fatigues, my throwing knives, combat knife, an assortment of tools I have found useful over the years, and a magic sling.” Waldo said, touching different things on his body. “The armor is stab resistant and there are several metal plates spread out in the fabric. If I get the job I would like to wear this until I can afford to get some locally made gear.”
“A magic sling?” Trag asked.
“Yeah, but I have limited ammo for it. It only works with special magic ammo and I doubt you have that here.” Waldo replied.
“Have you heard of a magic sling Strisk?” Trag asked.
“No, that is new to me.” Strisk replied. “I thought you could not use magic.”
“I cannot not cast a magic spell but this is an artifact. I could teach anyone to use it. If I had unlimited ammo or access to a bullet manufacturer I would be happy to show it off but I only have ninety rounds for it.” Waldo explained.
“How long have you been a soldier?” Trag asked, Waldo had seen himself in a mirror and knew they would not believe the truth. Waldo looked like he was in his prime but Halcyon slowed aging massively Waldo was older than any human got to normally and he was still unsure if he had died or Death’s healing had further reduced the effects of aging.
“Nine years.” Waldo replied, pushing it as far as he thought he could. Waldo had put his age down as twenty nine on the form, but knew he looked closer to twenty now. “I expect I will be sparing with one of you?”
“No, we are waiting for your sparring partners. I sent for two reservists. They generally are not needed for regular guard shifts and if they are injured it should not interfere with their regular jobs.” Trag stated, show us how good you are with throwing knives.
“Alright.” Waldo said, pulling four of the weighted knives from their sheaths. Waldo carried twelve in all. Four on his left leg, two on each arm and four on his chest. Waldo started by juggling the knives as he moved into position to throw them. Waldo smoothly plucked them out of the air as he was juggling them and launched them one after another in quick succession down the lane, with the knives sinking deep into the wooden target in a tight group.
“For having no skills that is pretty good. Now for the moving targets.” Trag said, with Waldo looking back at him as he pressed a button. Waldo watched as the targets began to move side to side. Waldo could tell this was intended for arrows as the range was longer than he would usually throw when it came to moving targets.
“May I move up or do you want me to throw from here?” Waldo asked.
“Tark throws from there.” Trag replied, Waldo grabbed two more knives, throwing them half a second after looking back at the target. Both landed bullseyes but Waldo could feel the strain on his muscles. He was not used to this distance. Waldo pulled two more and turned his back to the targets. Waldo slowly strafed toward the center of the range as he had started to the right side. After a moment making sure to give the targets time to move he spun around and with one hand launched both knives. One landed in a bullseye, but the other fell short. Waldo turned his back to the targets and drew all of his remaining knives placing them at the ready in one hand. Waldo turned and threw three and turned back around quickly. He heard 2 thuds and one that was a clang. He was not sure what the third had hit. Waldo spun around and sent his final knife down the lane hitting another bullseye. The three quick throws were not bullseyes but they had all hit targets.
“That is all the throwing knives I carry.” Waldo said. “Shall I collect them?”
“No, Strisk go get the knives and report back on how deep they are.” Trag said, turning the moving targets off. Waldo moved over to Trag as Strisk retrieved the knives. “Only one complete miss, that is not bad. If you are hired then we are gonna have to replace the knives with some weighted rods. We can issue you some bolas while on duty. Unless a kill order is issued, but most the time we will expect people to be taken alive.”
“Understandable. What is a bolas?” Waldo asked.
“It is three pieces of rope tied to each other on one end and has a weight on the other side. When throwing it, the intent is to hit a person's legs and if it works correctly it will wrap around a fleeing person’s legs and trip them. In town it can be tricky to use and for people they have lighter weights. It was originally used to hunt various animals on the plains. If the weights are too heavy they can break bones.” Trag said, explained. “What class are you?”
Waldo had been preparing for this question since they had asked him earlier. “Diplomat.” Waldo replied.
“You have no levels in a combat class but you are a diplomat as a soldier?” Trag questioned.
“When I use skills from it as a soldier it is generally in interrogations, but my personal goal was to try and find less violent solutions to my nation's disputes. So, I ended up becoming a diplomat. The times I acted in that capacity I was glad to have trained as a soldier. Few people seem to want peaceful resolutions. So as a diplomat I have often been met with violence.” Waldo explained twisting the truth. They stood in silence as they waited for Strisk to finish retrieving the knives. Strisk handed Waldo eleven of the knives and Trag one of the knives.
“Six perfect hits. Three near perfects. Two hits. One miss. Ten hits were all very deep. The one that made the clang hit a metal frame holding the target. It dented the metal and chipped his knife.” Strisk reported as Waldo sheathed the eleven knives he had been handed. Waldo looked at Trag just in time to catch his face returning to a neutral state after what Waldo believed to be a frown.
“How is your hand to hand combat proficiency?”Trag asked.
“I am an expert with a knife, however, I could easily swap it out for a padded baton. It would be harder on me, but I am sure I can hold my own.” Waldo said, showing the knife sheathed across his lower back and trying to determine Trag’s mood. Trag examined the knife and could see it was custom made for Waldo and well used.
“Strisk, you are good to go on patrol. Your partner should be ready about now.” Trag said, with a hint of sadness.
“I was hoping to stay and see him fight the reservists.” Strisk said, a little excited and as Strisk said that it clicked for Waldo.
“No one is coming. To test my combat proficiency.” Waldo said, calmly. “Sorry, Strisk. I should have known better.”
“We should go to my office and talk.” Trag said and handed Waldo the chipped knife Strisk had handed him.
“Wait, why?” Strisk asked, Trag.
“Politics, Strisk. Guardsmen are just a little political, which means Trag cannot hire another human. Especially, not in a citizen-facing role.” Waldo said, with a smile. “Am I right?”
“Violet, is our scribe. Citizen’s see her.” Strisk said looking confused.
“Violet is my scribe. She assists with filing and compiling guardsmen reports. She has only covered the front desk on a few occasions and usually it is to give another scribe a break or chance to go to the bathroom.” Trag stated.
“Strisk, thank you for introducing me to Captain Trag. I truly appreciate this opportunity. I would be happy to speak to you in your office Trag.” Waldo said, smiling at both of them.
“Sorry, Waldo… I didn’t realize.” Strisk said dejectly. Waldo laughed lightly.
“You have done no harm at all and even helped me file documents I needed to in order to stay. You introduced me to your Captain. Strisk, you have been nothing but helpful. Please do not feel sorry.” Waldo said, smiling at Strisk.
“Thanks, I guess I should get going.” Strisk said, clearly feeling better. “Sir. Waldo.” Strisk said, nodding his head to each of them and leaving. Trag started heading towards the guard house and motioned for Waldo to follow, which Waldo did in silence. Trag opened the door and sure enough Violet was no longer at the front desk. There was a male Drake scribe sitting behind the counter.
“Sir.” The drake said, standing up to greet them. Trag waved his hand and the drake sat back down. Waldo followed him up a set of stairs and down a hall to an open room with three scribes working on various documents on a table big enough for four, one of which was Violet.
“Your morning report sir.” A female gnoll scribe said, smiling at Trag and holding a folder. She noticed Waldo and her demeanor changed slightly. She glanced at Violet as Trag grabbed the folder.
“Thank you. I have a meeting for a few minutes. Is there anything urgent?” Trag gestured at Waldo. The scribes all looked up and gave a negative nod. “If needed you may interrupt us.” Trag said, opening his office door and leading Waldo into his office. It was a plain room. There were several chairs facing the back of the room with a large desk and chair behind it facing the door. There were two sturdy looking bookcases organized with an assortment of documents. The room was clean and orderly. A couch sat against one wall with a window behind it that had shutters and Waldo noticed a plain axe with a rope next to it leaning against a bookcase. “Please take a seat.” Trag said, opening the folder as he moved around the desk and sat down. Waldo sat across from him. They sat in silence as Trag read over a few reports. “Thank you for your patience.” Trag said look up from the report.
“Anything important?” Waldo asked.
“No, just the normal going on. Except for you of course.” Trag said.
“Yeah, I made a surprising entrance last night.” Waldo agreed.
“Teleportation has a tendency to create some alerts. If Strisk had not reported your arrival last night, the guard may have interrupted your welcome to our fine city.” Trag replied.
“That report is more thorough than I would have liked.” Waldo stated.
“Kna is a friend and Aer is a gossip.” Trag replied.
“I should have waited in the common room. We could have talked last night.” Waldo guessed.
“Doubtful, but I would have known your face this morning if you had.” Trag stated.
“I had hoped this was an offer for contract work of some kind.” Waldo said, frowning slightly.
“It still might be. I have not determined what to do about you.” Trag replied.
“Oh, well is there something you would like cleared up?” Waldo asked, smiling.
“Kna is worried about one of her barmaids. Aer has never seen her friend respond so positively to someone so quickly.” Trag stated, calmly. Waldo knew they were straying into dangerous territory.
“I have never responded to another human as positively.” Waldo replied, honestly.
“Just two soulmates meeting for the first time?” Trag asked, Waldo jerked in surprise at the word reacting before he could stop himself. Waldo realized Trag did not mean it the way he had taken it but it was too late. Trag had been watching him closely and was now looking unsure at Waldo. “I think you have some explaining to do.” Trag said, prepared to strike. Waldo leaned forward and placed his head in his hand dropping his show.
“This cannot under any circumstances leave this room. If you have listeners they need to stop. If you have a way to make the room secure. I will tell you enough to know why.” Waldo said, unsure of what would happen next.
“What, so can you kill me in silence?” Trag asked, feeling concerned about this stranger's response.
“If you want to tie me up feel free, but I am not talking until I am confident the secret won’t leave this room.” Waldo said, sitting back and calming his nerves. Waldo was trying to figure out how to explain this with as little lying as possible. Waldo wondered if he could avoid lying all together. Trag hesitated for a minute then opened a drawer and pulled out a small box. Trag said a command word under his breath and the box activated.
“Alright, we are alone and no one can see or hear us. This better be good or I won’t keep your secret.” Trag said.
“Have you ever been in love so much it hurt your soul?” Waldo asked.
“What?” Trag asked, surprised.
“I have. If I had understood this was possible. If I had known. I would have done so many things differently.” Waldo said, deciding to be as honest as he felt he could. “I thought she was dead. I joined the wrong people to get vengeance. To make it stop. In doing, so I pissed off some really powerful people. I thought my master was strong enough to protect me and I thought I was powerful enough to protect myself. I want to tell Lydia so bad. I want her to remember our time together. Every second we spent together. If I had magic this would be so easy but using magic to accomplish it would be wrong.” Waldo said, with tears in his eyes. “I wish I could just show her. However, the people I pissed off took my ability to use magic. I did not even know that was possible.” Waldo said, holding out an open palm. “Light.” Trag felt magic tug slightly, but nothing happened. “They took my magic so I could not interfere. When they did that I thought they would send me to a prison cell or some equally horrible place. They cursed me with unwanted knowledge I can barely grasp. Part of my mind is still trying to rip itself apart. But instead of sending me to a desert. They toss me like I am nothing and I land inside Spriggan Inn, in Protham barely even hurt. I did know she was the same soul at first. Standing in the dim light of the inn. She looks the same. Alive working as a barmaid in a place I have never even heard of. She doesn’t even remember me but she was drawn to me just like I was to her all those years ago.” Waldo said. “Kna is worried I might hurt her and honestly so am I. However, if we are to separate again I would have her tell me to go. It would be the most painful thing I ever do but I would leave if she asked. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me, but I have found my dead lover again, my soulmate and I never thought I would see her. She died so I figured that was it. I did not know about the cycle but now I do. So please give me the chance to win her.” Waldo finished with tears at the corners of his eyes. “Please, I am begging you.” Trag knew Waldo was leaving part out but felt he was being honest and looking at Waldo Trag knew he held this man’s life in his hands at this moment. Trag looked at Waldo and activated several skills he had for conversations like this. Trag knew Waldo did not intend harm at this time or harm to his city.
“For the moment. You have convinced me.” Trag said, still slightly concerned, something about him bothered Trag, but Trag was confident the stranger would be unlikely to deliberately cause problems in Protham.
“Thank you for giving me a chance. I will prove I mean no harm.” Waldo said, starting to recover his composure. Trag grabbed the rope and axe, placing them on his desk.
“Do you know how to cut down a tree?” Trag asked.
“Yes.” Waldo replied.
“As captain of the guard. I am allotted two trees every year. The town allows me to do as I will with the tree tokens, I am issued. The mill will pay me five gold per token on average. However, If I cut the tree down and turn in the tree with the token they will right now pay eight gold. If you cut a tree down and turn it in for me. I will let you keep two gold coins of those eight.” Trag stated placing a token on the table.
“Sounds like a good deal.” Waldo replied.
“Have you hunted boar?” Trag asked.
“I have hunted. Not specifically boar but I am familiar with the complexities they present.” Waldo replied, wondering where this was going.
“Currently, we have a boar problem on the western road and several groups have been attacked by boars. It is quite troublesome. Protham does not have an adventuring guild and most hunters will hunt safer game or only kill one or two boars at a time. You can rent a hand cart for a day for three coppers at the docks. Usually they are used to transport fish around town. They are sturdy carts and can hold several hundred kilos. There are several blacksmiths in town that sell quality steel tipped javelins, for a silver. Now they are not perfect for hunting boar but they should work well enough. Currently, I have placed a bounty on boar kills of a silver per boar jaw turned in. We will even buy the dead boar for one and half coppers per five pounds. However, you could show us the boar, collect the silver, then most local butchers will buy dead boar for two copper per five pounds. Those are the current rates for whole boars” Trag explained.
“Sounds like I have a tree to chop down.” Waldo said standing.
“Out the main gate past the mill and then pick an un-worked tree the taller the better. They pay less for trees shorter than twenty feet and more for trees taller than twenty five feet. If you are willing to search there are some forty and fifty footers out there. I expect six gold regardless.” Trag stated.
“Why are you doing this?” Waldo asked.
“It is not one thing. Lots of little things adding up. Kna is a friend and Lydia is important to her. Kna knows I cannot employ you as a guard. This keeps you out of trouble. Solves a problem for me and if you work hard. Kna might start to like you. I was not going to be able to cut my second tree down before the end of the year. There are more reasons, but in the end, I see no downside for me giving you this chance.” Trag stated plainly.
“Well thank you. I appreciate this.” Waldo said and picked up the axe smiling.
“Good Luck. I plan to eat dinner at Spriggan Inn. So if you get back after sunset you can find me there.” Trag said, gesturing for Waldo to leave.
“Thank you, again!” Waldo said, leaving. After he closed the door he looked for Violet but she was not there. Waldo headed to the stairs back to the entryway. Violet wasn’t there either so he left a message for her and headed back to the Inn. Waldo wanted to ditch his armor before heading out to cut down a tree.

So I came across a post recently, where the person asked what we would want in a warrior's game, and it got me to remember a document I had made ages ago now regarding that. Now warning, this post is extremely long, and much of what I've written down probably isn't possible to achive (I'm no game develouper). But if you're curious, and find something you like on this list that's do-able, then feel free to run with it, cause I would love to see this in action. (Sorry for any weird spelling/grammar, this is my second language).
Character Creation:
Breed:
-Pureblood.
-Mixed between 2 (choose which trait you want from which breed).
-A specific breed with some minor differences/changes, due to mix breeding.
-A mix of several breeds (from 6 to 10 different breeds, choosing between which trait/look you want from which breed).
-Normal house cat (breeds unknown/unrecognizable/unimportant, free to choose whatever looks/traits from whatever breed).
Fur:
Patterns:
-Single color (with/without different areas with lightedarker markings).
-Single color, except for one, partly or fully, different colored body part.
-Two colors (choose where you want which color to be and the size and shape of the different colors).
-Tabby (choose if the markings are paler or darker in color compared to the main, solid one): Spotted, Classic, Mackerel, Ticked, Patched Tabby markings (in regards to the patched tabby, the player can choose where they want which color to be and the size and shape of the patched areas).
-Multi Colored: Tortoiseshell (bridled, patched), Calico (traditional, dilute, patched tabby). The player can choose where they want which color to be and the size and shape.
-Color Points: Lynx, Seal-Mink, Seal-Point, Seal-Solid.
Colors: Amber, light amber, smoke, black, blue, caramel, caramel 2, chocolate, lilac, cinnamon, fawn, light brown, red, ginger, cream, apricot, orange, white.
-Albino (half or full).
Choose realistic or unrealistic color patterns/combinations (unrealistic = the colors themselves are realistic ones that naturally show up in cats, but the colopattern combinations that can be mixed together aren’t).
Volume, Amount, Length, Appearance:
-Thick, dense, thin.
-Long, medium, short.
-Curly, glossy, wirehair, normal, fluffy.
-Extra fur around the neck, between toes and inside/on top of ears.
-Double layer coat.
-Hairless.
Build:
-Height: Small, big, normal, between small/normal and normal/big (a bar the player can slide to adjust the size).
-Shape: Skinny, lean, sturdy, muscular.
Looks:
Eyes:
-Color: Gray, yellow-gray, blue-gray, blue, blue-green, green, hazel, yellow, amber, orange, brown, red.
-In each: The same color in both eyes, complete heterochromia, sectoral heterochromia in both eyes, one eye with complete heterochromia and one with sectoral heterochromia.
-Shape: Almond, round, oval.
Nose:
-Shape: Flat, normal.
-Color(s).
Whiskers:
-Length.
-Shape: Straight, curly.
Legs:
Length: Hind legs can be longer than the front legs or all 4 can be of the same length.
Tail:
-Length.
-Look: Plump, feathery, thin, bushy or stumpy/bobbed.
-Tailless.
Ears:
-Size.
-Shape: Rounded, folded, floppy, loosely folded, curled (from 90 to 180 degrees), straight.
Shoulders:
-Size: Broad or normal.
Face:
-Shape: Flat (mild, moderate, profound, severe), round, triangle, square.
Scars: Choose the length, shape, how visible they are, where they are, the amount. (Some will show up after battle practice, and the others after fighting).
Mutation:
Face: Half the player character’s face is a darker color, the other half is a lighter one (the player can choose the two colors).
Paws:
-Split-foot (syndactyly).
-Extra number of toes - only front paws, or with back legs as well - , 4 to 7 on each (Polydactyly).
-Thumb-cat - 1 or more extra toes around the dew claw specifically - (Polydactyly).
Pelt: Vitiligo (players can choose between a spotted pattern, whole areas turning white, or both, and how much of the white color takes over).
Ears: Four ears.
Tail: Shortened and kinked (japanese bobtail gene), no tail (manx tailless gene).
Size: Dwarfism (dwarf cat gene).
Others:
-Missing body part.
-Reduced or complete loss of hearing or vision (one eaeye can also be completely gone - senses vice - while another is reduced, one eaeye can be gone/reduced while the other one is working, one ear and one eye each can be gone/reduced, and both eyes and both ears be gone/reduced. Although, I must admit, I have no idea how it would work gameplay vice if a character is completely blind and deaf, or has one eye/ear with reduced vision/hearing while the other 3 are completely gone).
Any missing/partly missing body part, mutation or reduced/complete loss of the senses will make the game harder and can cause the player character to go through a special training arc.
Other Choices:
Clan. (Player’s choice, or take an in-game test with the possibility of getting more than 1 clan as an answer - making the player a half-clan cat if they go with that, with the clan they got the highest percentage of being the clan the character is born in).
Blood ties: Full blooded, half-blooded cats (the player can choose what trait/skills they want from each clan. It will cause the player character to have a longer apprenticeship in order to prove the player character’s loyalty and dedication as gaining the trust of their fellow clanmates will be harder).
The half-clan option can lead to several different possible outcomes for the parents, the player character and siblings depending on how the player played the game and how well and how many in-game characters trust and like the player character unless the player chooses something specific. The player can also choose how far back in the family tree the half-clan blood runs and who (if only one) of the parents has it.
Family situation:
-If the player character’s parents live in different clans, if one of them moved to the other’s, if they’re still together and if they get along or not, if one or both of them found another mate, and if they end up switching clans at some point during the playthrough.
-Whether the player character grows up with their mother’s or father’s clan (if the parent’s lives in different clans. The game will provide the player character with a foster mother and siblings if the player chooses the father’s clan).
-If the player character grows up with siblings, and whether or not none, some of or all of their siblings live with the player character (if the parent’s live in different clans), and if the player character knows about their other siblings - and if the siblings knows about them, or only the siblings know - if they do live in different clans.
-The player can also choose if their character and clan knows or is unaware about the fact that they are half-clan (the player can also choose if only the clan or only the player character is aware/unaware of it).
-Parent(s) with half-blood (what traits they have from each clan, and if they’re in one of the clans they have blood ties to, or in one of the other three. If they are in one of the other clans this will give the player the opportunity to add traits from said third clan to their character, deciding how many/few traits the player character gets from each clan, as long as one of the player character’s other parent has blood ties to the third clan).
Most traits from=check off 6 boxes, some traits from=check off 4 boxes, few traits from=check off 2 boxes. In case of half-clans the player can check off 6 boxes from each side/clans, or remove some from one side and spend them on the other. If both parents have blood from the same clan, that clan/side has to be what the player character has the most filled out boxes from.
-What role the player character’s parents have (including being a medicine cat. The different roles affect how the player character is treated).
Character vice:
-Gender.

• The Medicine cat path.
  
• The Warrior path.
  
• If the player character ends up becoming leader or not.
  
• The player character’s voice.
  

-The player character’s name (either the whole name or just the first part, in which case the second part will be given based on your dialogue choices/reputation and what specific skill(s) the player character excels at).
-Choose what the player wants their character to be honored for during the full name ceremony or have the game choose based on the player character’s game-play/performance (same with what lives the player character receives if they become clan leader).
Likes/Dislikes/Preferences, player character vice and npc vice:
-Fur color(s)/pattern, eye color, build, gender and personality regarding npc’s.
-Sayings/expressions.
-Rival clans.
-Other ranks within the clan.
-Half-clan cats.
-Places.
-Prey.
-Weather.
-Seasons.
How player character feels about:
-Rouges/loners/kittypets.
-The opposite gender.
-Different personalities.
These choices will affect the dialog options in the game.
After finishing the game the 1st time, the player will be able to go to the menu and choose one of the special powers mentioned in the series (maybe also some new ones) to give to your character. The player can also go into the menu and change it during the play-through if they want. And they can choose to play as a character from the Warriors series.
Possibly other choices:
-The personality of the player character’s parents (if they stay close or grow distant/cold towards the player character. What they feel about their former mate, if they still see the player character as their kit, or regret having them).
-The looks of the player character’s parents (unless they’re the foster family).
-The looks of the player character’s siblings (unless they’re the foster family).
-Number of siblings (unless they’re the foster family).
-The sibling’s names (unless they’re the foster family).
-The sibling’s genders (unless they’re the foster family).
-The personality of the siblings (unless they’re the foster family).
-The future position of the siblings (unless they’re the foster family).
-If the player character and the siblings are half-clan, what traits each of them got from the other clan(s).
-If the player character or one of the siblings are the player character’s parent’s favorite or if everyone gets equal attention/love (regardless if they’re the foster family or not).
-How the player character’s siblings feel about one another and the player character. Who’s their favorite sibling to hang out with, who they don’t get as well along with, if any (regardless if they’re the foster family or not).
-If the player character and the siblings are half-clan, what they feel about being half-clan, what they feel about the way the clan treats them and if they want to, and if they end up, switching clans.
-If one or both of the parents passes away and when (before birth, during your character’s kit-hood, as an apprenticeship, afteshortly after becoming a warrior), giving the player the possibility of being in a clan that mostly don’t trust the player character, with only the player character’s siblings for comfort if the player chose the “parents in different clans” option (if the player choose for both of the parents to pass away or the mom while the player character lives in their clan while the player character is a kit, the game will give the player a foster family).
-An option for it being certain and one for being uncertain about whether or not all of the player character’s siblings survive into adulthood/survive long enough to become elders, and whether or not the player character’s parent(s) survives long enough to become an elder.
-Having the option to start the second playthrough as a kittypet, loner or rogue (full, or part kittypet/rogue, kittypet/clan cat, rogue/clancat, lonekittypet, lonerogue, loneclancat). The player can choose if they encounter the clan through positive or negative reasons. Choose at what age the player character meets the clan. Choose whether the player character’s siblings, all of them or just some, choose to join the clan as well and if they choose to join the same or want to join a different clan.
-Choose which season (and possibly time of day/night) the player character is born in.
-A button that randomly picks every choice the player can make in the “Other Choices and Possibly other choices“ part (apart from the Character vice, Likes/dislikes/preferences and How player character feels about part of the list).
-A button that randomly picks every choice the player can make in the “Character vice, Likes/dislikes/preferences and How player character feels about” parts specifically.
-A button that randomly picks every choice the player can make in the “Character Creation” part.
-A button that randomly picks every choice the player can make in the “Mutation” part.
-A button that randomly picks every choice the player can make.
Every randomize button also gives the player the option to cross out boxes that they don’t want checked off, as well as check off boxes that they do want to specifically get chosen.
-A peace mode where the player can walk around and enjoy the territory without the risk of enemies/events, and possibly the other clan’s territories and camp, watching the in-game characters walk around, performing tasks and interacting with each other without the risk of getting attacked/hurt.
Game-play:
The Warrior Apprentice Path:
-Learn about the warrior code.
-Learn about the territory and its layout-how to use it to the player character’s advantage.
-Learn about predators and how to fight them or stay hidden from them.
-Look for, discover and learn about different tracks and track them.
-Learn about prey and how to detect, sneak up on and catch them as different prey requires different techniques.
-Learn where the borders are.
-Learn where scent marks are.
-Mark the territory.
-Learn to look for signs that someone has crossed the border and/or taken prey from the player character’s clan’s side.
-Master different battle techniques, learning when to attack and defend and what technique the player character can/should use when.
-Train and specialize in player character’s clan abilities:
ThundeShadow/SkyClan: Tree climbing.
ThunderClan: Moving/sneaking through heavy/thick undergrowth.
Shadow/Wind/RiveSkyClan: Sneaking in more open/exposed areas.
ShadowClan: Special night lessons.
RiverClan: Swimming and fishing lessons and fighting in water.
WindClan: Races and obstacle course.
SkyClan: Jumping/leaping lessons.
-Learn and detect the different scents of prey and predators, if it’s stale or fresh, and what kind of prey/predator it is, rivaling clans, dogs, two-legs and non-clan cats.
-Learn how to deal with cats waiting at the border.
-Collect moss and water.
-Fixing dens and nests.
-Removing ticks.
-Keep guard outside the player character clan’s camp (After the first playthrough the player can go into the menu and shorten the amount of time it will take).
-Learn about the important cats from rival clans (leader, deputy, medicine cat, medicine cat apprentice), their scent and their clan’s specialties and weaknesses, and how to best beat them.
-Protect the kits and elders during camp raids.
-Travel with the player character’s mentor to the Moonstone and survive in the area outside the player character’s clan territory (Scripted so that different things can happen on different trips, so two trips in a row is rarely the same. After the first playthrough the player can go into the menu and shorten the amount of time the journey will take).
-Race to the camp to warn the player character’s clan leader about surprise attacks, possibly outrunning a pursuer.
-Attend Gatherings and meet and mingle with other apprentices and make sure not to give anything important away.
-Train/fight against the player character’s fellow denmates while inside camp.
-Bring prey to queens and elders.
-Pass the warrior assignment (skippable).
After the first playthrough the player can choose from the menu to skip the parts where the player character learns about the territory, detecting/tracking/finding, prey and predators, hunting ,scent marks/borders, fighting/ battle techniques, cats waiting at the border and trespassers/signs of it, shortening the player’s time as an apprentice.
The Medicine Cat Apprentice Path:
-Learn about the medicine cat code.
-Learn about the territory and its layout-knowing where to find which herb and when they grow/are in season.
-Master basic battle techniques and when to use which.
-Attend Gatherings.
-Learn the scent of different herbs, predators and other cats and how to detect them.
-Learn the names of different herbs.
-Learn what the herbs look like.
-Learn what the different herbs do.
-Learn how to prepare different herbs.
-Learn how to make poultices.
-Learn what’s dangerous and not.
-Learn about different complications and stuff that can go wrong and what to do.
-Learn how to heal different wounds (keeping infection away), diseases and poisons.
-Learn to recognize symptoms for different diseases and keep it from spreading.
-Travel to the Moonstone (Scripted so that different things can happen on different trips, so two trips in a row is rarely the same. After the first playthrough the player can go into the menu and shorten the amount of time the journey will take).
-Receive dreams/warnings/prophecies/omens from StarClan.
-Learn to assist queens giving birth.
-Learn how to deal with different patients.
-Make sure the plants don’t get destroyed or rot.
-Assist and go over the player character’s clanmates after a battle.
After the first playthrough the player can choose from the menu to skip the parts where the player character learns about the different herbs, injuries, illnesses, territory, fighting, kitting, predators, detecting, poultices, complications, preparation and prevention, shortening the player’s time as an apprentice.
The Warrior Path:
-Pick up interesting news and whispers at Gatherings without getting detected.
-Stand guard duty at night and after the player character receives their full name (Skippable, but the player can also, after the first playthrough, go into the menu and shorten the amount of time those nights will take).
-Lead patrols and decide where to hunt.
-Report back to the leader about any events outside of camp.
-Become a mentor (the player can ask for a specific kit. Mentorship is partly skippable: ceremony - both for the player character’s apprentice apprentices and warrior ceremony and assignment, as well as teaching the player character’s apprentice about territory, detecting/tracking/finding, prey and predators, hunting ,scent marks/borders, fighting/ battle techniques, cats waiting at the border and trespassers/signs of it).
-Make sure the player character’s clan has enough prey.
-Help the player character’s clan through battles and harsh seasons.
-If the player wants to find a mate and start a family, name some of the kits and watch them grow into warriors or a medicine cat.
-Go to other clans in times of war and ask for assistance.
-Join a patrol led by the player character’s leader to another clan’s camp.
-Help find lost kits.
-Rush to help during a border fight.
-Deal with trespassing non-clan cats or predators.
-Perform escort missions.
-Do side quests like playing with kits, rebuild/enforce dens and the camp wall, help out friends within or outside the clan and learn about their past, dreams and secrets.
-Share tongue with the in-game characters.
-Build the player character’s reputation and popularity and increase the chances of them getting chosen as deputy.
-Take the player character’s apprentice to Gatherings and tell them about other cats.
-Take the player character’s apprentice to the Moonstone (Scripted so that different things can happen on different trips, so two trips in a row is rarely the same. After the first playthrough the player can go into the menu and shorten the amount of time the journey will take).
-Go on missions from StarClan.
-Guard any potionsoal prisoners.
The Deputy Path:
-Organize patrols (skippable, in which case the game will pick random npc’s).
-Report to and stand by the clan leader.
-Go on behalf of the clan leader to the gathering, or to deliver important messages to the other clans.
-Step in whenever the clan leader is away from camp.
Ceremony skippable.
The Leader Path:
-Go to the Moonstone and receive 9 lives (skippable, in which case the game will choose what lives the player character gets based on the actions they have taken and who they have supported).
-Choose the clan’s new deputy (skippable, in which case the game will pick the most suitable npc based on the in-game character’s personalities. But, the player can also have the game choose among only certain npc’s based on the player’s specific preferences, like: a cat that can challenge them, a cat that stands by them, a cat the player can teach/mold themselves, a cat that doesn’t need any guidance/help within the new role).
-Make decisions affecting just the player character’s clan or several.
-Get help and guidance from the medicine cat and elders.
-Travel to the other camps to discuss clan matters with that clan’s leader.
-Convince the npc’s about the decisions the player character made.
-Handle any negative feedback from the player character’s decisions, the player character’s popularity (both in the player character’s own and the other clans), and face any challenges about the player character’s leadership.
-Give reports at Gatherings (the player chooses how much they want to tell and what they want to hold back) and solve any possible outbursts.
-Listen to and decide what to do with rival clan cats or non-clan cats coming into the camp.
-Make sure the warrior code is being followed and punish rule breakers accordingly after hearing their explanation, if the player finds that necessary.
-Enter StarClan and receive tips, guidance, encouragement or comfort when the player character loses one of their 9 lives depending on what claimed one of their lives (skippable).
-Hold apprentice ceremonies and assign mentors (skippable, in which case the game will assign the newly made apprentice a mentor).
-Give warriors their full name and choose what to honor them for based on the reports from their mentors (skippable, in which case the game will choose a name based on the npc’s actions/personality).
-Guide and boost the warriors’ spirits during challenging/harsh times.
-Negotiate with rival clan leaders for the safe return of any imprisoned clanmates.
The Medicine Cat Path:
-Make sure there are enough herbs.
-Make sure the herbs are fresh.
-Keep as many of the player character’s clanmates as safe as possible during outbreaks and take precautions.
-Give advice to other medicine cats and/or pick up tips.
-Go to another clan and help their medicine cat (bringing herbs if necessary).
-Pick the herbs that might be needed before leaf-bare kicks in.
-Make sure the player character’s have enough herbs before a planned battle.
-Walk with the cats in StarClan, asking them for advice/guidance.
-Help elders and kits through leaf-bare.
-Make sure the player character’s clanmates get what they need in both herbs and knowledge before going on a long journey.
-Go to the Moonstone with the clan’s newly appointed leader (skippable).
-Get through a hard season with only a few herbs (be it having many different ones but few in numbers of each, many in numbers but few in types, or both few types and low in number.
-Race out of camp to help seriously injured clancats, cats who have accidentally eaten something poisonous, or queens giving birth too early.
-Break heavy news and comfort life changing, seriously injured or ill cats (or family members/mates of mentioned cats), and help train them back up again if recovery is possible/if they survive.
-Prepare fallen clanmates on their way to StarClan (skippable).
-Become the clan’s sole medicine cat (skippable).
-Train an apprentice and give them their full name based on their performance (skippable, in which case the game will choose a name based on the in-game character’s actions. Mentorship is partly skippable: ceremony - both for the player character’s apprentice apprentices and full medicine cat name ceremony, as well as teaching the player character’s apprentice about herbs, injuries, illnesses, territory, fighting, kitting, predators, detecting, poultices, complications, preparation and prevention).
-Help the player character’s clanmates keep faith in StarClan during times of crises.
-Join the player character’s clan leader and clanmates on trips to enemy camps as a show of peace/good faith.
-Share tongue with the in-game characters.
-Take the player character’s apprentice to Gatherings and tell them about other cats.
-Take the player character’s apprentice to the Moonstone every half moon (Scripted so that different things can happen on different trips, so two trips in a row is rarely the same. After the first playthrough you can go into the menu and shorten the amount of time the journey will take).
-Receive omens/prophecies/warnings, and find out which cat/event/clan it refers to.
Small side game:
-The player can play as the spirit of the player’s character, hunting and exploring StarClan or The Dark Forest.
-Get to meet and know the other clan cats the player might not have gotten a chance to in the main game.
-Look over the clan, the next generation in the player character’s family and how they’re doing.
-Visit the player character’s descendants in their dreams.
-Walk around the player character’s old clan camp, and its new members, invisible (and listen in on what kind of stories the player character’s predecessors are telling about them).
-Pass on prophecies/guidance/warnings/omens.
-Take part in meetings between fellow StarClan cats and decide what is best to do for the clans.
-Meet old, famous cats.
-Be part of the 9 cats that give a clan leader their extra lives (the player can choose what the life they give is for).
The Elder Path:
-Telling kits-possibly the player character’s grand or great-grand kits, stories about the player character’s life.
-Spend time and share tongue with the player character’s mate and/or fellow den mates that made it into their senior years.
-Roam freely through the territory whenever.
-Take fallen warriors to the burial place and help bury them.
-Based on the player character’s dialogue/options, the player character can either pass away during a raid on the camp, defending their clan members one last time, or pass away in their sleep during peaceful times.
-A cut scene plays out where the player character hears the voices of old clanmates calling them, and their spirit stands up and walks upwards towards the starry sky.
-As the camera goes from the ground to the sky (birdseye view), the player sees the player character’s clan leader give their speech about the player character at their vigil, and then after zooming further up, the player hears the player character’s clan leader informing the other clans of the player character’s passing during the next Gathering, before the player start playing as a StarClan/Dark Forest cat.
The Kit path:
-Spend some time exploring the camp, playing, make friends, practicing the hunter's crouch, leaping, surprise attacks and wrestling, meeting clanmates and listen to the elder’s stories (after the first playthrough the player can go into the menu and reduce the amount of time the player’s new character(s) spends as a kit).
-If the player character’s spend some time with a specific warrior the odds of that cat becoming the player character’s mentor increases.
-Go through the player character’s apprentice ceremony (skippable).
Playthrough:
-Starts with the player character’s opening their eyes for the first time.
-Encounter different cats outside the player character’s territory.
-During hunting or stealth/sneaking mode make sure not to step on or brush against anything that can make sound or move giving away the player character’s position.
-Make sure the wind is towards the player character, and keep to the shadows if possible.
-Activate a “scent mode”, where the player character gets to see everything in different colors, each color representing a scent (the amount of it telling how old or new it is).
-The player character’s get points based on how well the player character hunts, fights and helps out inside the clan, and if the player character’s do well enough the player character gets taken to Gatherings.
-Getting caught breaking the code will result in punishment.
-Stay a clan cat, switch clan, become a loner, rogue or kittypet (which can cause the player character’s to not end up in StarClan/The Dark Forest).
-The game ends with the player character joining StarClan or The Dark Forest after a lifetime (or 9).
-How your clanmates remember the player character will be based on the player’s choices, how well the player played, and how much they learned.
After the first playthrough the player can choose to start with their new character as a newly made apprentice or warrior (starting with the ceremony).
Other stuff in the game:
-Day/night and seasons cycle.
-Easy, normal, though, challenging and random mode. Makes it so that events such as outbreaks of different illnesses, different natural disasters, harsh/long seasons, prey shortage (and prey getting poisoned/contaminated), conflict/tension, invading forces (other clans/groups of cats/animals), low number of warriors/shortage of new kits being born, losing territory, two/three rival clans joining together to face off against your character’s clan, clanmate(s) trying to overthrow and take over leadership of the player character’s clan, and wars happen a specific amount of time within each mode.
Easy: 0-2 things.
Normal: 3-5 things.
Though: 6-8 things.
Challenging: 9-11 things.
Random lvl button: The game picks (same with the other randomize buttons, the player can cross out the challenge lvl the player doesn't want to be included).
Random events list: Allows the player to cross out events they don’t want to happen, and check off events they specially do want to encounter, before picking a lvl/clicking the random lvl button.
-The player character could end up being taken prisoner if they’re found sneaking around inside another clan’s territory. The player will either have to try to escape, or wait until their clan sacrifices something for the player character’s return.
-If the player character ends up getting too many punishments from getting caught breaking the warrior code too many times, the whole clan can grow to distrust, and eventually, even kick the player character out.
-If npc’s finds the player character on their territory alone often, that rival clan will be on a look out, more hostile/aggressive towards, and talk about/discuss the player character in a negative way during Gatherings (this could have a negative effect on a patrol if the player character is part of a patrol traveling to an enemy camp).
-If the player character has a good reputation, enemy warriors will respect and enemy apprentices might look up to and admire the player character and talk in an positive light and exited way about the player character at Gatherings (this could have a positive effect on a patrol if the player character is part of a patrol traveling to an enemy camp).
-Kits could end up playing pretend as the player character regardless of the distrust/trusted status.
-Follow an evil route and the player character could end up becoming a scary story that keeps disobedient kits inside their dens at night/inside their camp.
-Follow a good route and the player character could end up becoming a popular and exciting bedtime story for the kits.
Stuff that could possibly be different between each playthrough:
-Different cats could end up becoming mates and different she-cats can become queens (also resulting in different kits being born).
-Different characters could end up dying or be named deputy if the player character isn’t.
-Different cats could start off as leaders.
-Different cats could end up being leaders, medicine cats, medicine cat apprentices, and warrior apprentices could have different mentors.
-StarClan can send new, or no, prophecies/warnings.
-Npc’s could keep their personality/alliance throughout the playthroughs, or end up changing, depending on: If they fall in love with an outsider or rival clan member. Who they follow. If they have something against the leadethe way the leader leads the clan, or the player character. What happens to them throughout their lives.
-The leader could turn evil and try to prove the clan’s strength and glory through endless battles, try to drive off one of the other clans, or try to merge several clans into one (and this could be challenges the player character could end up facing if they become the leader).
-The medicine cat could lose faith in or be angry at StarClan, and use their powers/knowledge against the clan or to shatter other npc’s faith in StarClan.
It will be up to the player character to help prevent/solve these npc/leademedicine cat events. The player will have the option to choose if these specific events can happen or not during their different playthroughs.
-Different npc’s could end up trying to befriend, fall for and become rivals (both friendly and non friendly) the player character. This could give npc’s from a playthrough where they weren’t in focus/as important more depth/personality.
There could also possibly be a list over the different npc’s, where the player can cross off if a/some specific npc(‘s) should be more in focus/more important during their playthroughs, and what specific role that/those npc/’s will play.
If the player makes several characters, the player can see them in camp, and on the territory if they’re in the same clan, or during border patrols, Gatherings, attacks, or if they arrive in the player’s current character’s camp with their leader if they’re in different.
Controls:
-The view could be behind/over the shoulder, or through the player character’s eyes, or both switching freely.
-Fighting, battle training, tree climbing, fishing, swimming, leaping, pouncing on prey and obstacle course could be a combination of using the moving buttons and mouse or button clicking).
-The player can save and switch characters whenever they want.
DLC or Sequel:
-At a young age, the player character, and their siblings and mother spot a group of strange cats traveling from the mountains to the moorland and forest area not far from the two-leg place, where the player character’s family lives as loners.
-The player character’s mother makes sure the player character stays well away from them, as blood is suddenly being shed over newly made borders and the prey within, kin attacking kin over the right for space and having prey in their mouths.
-When the player character’s mother passes, the player character must make a choice. Try to survive on their own, or join this strange, rouge group of cats?
-Will the player character stay in the group or leave and try to fend for themselves?
-Does the player character switch alliances to a different group, or do they stay with the group that took the player character in when no one else might have had?
-Learn a new way of life and survival depending on where the player choose to live.
-Try to survive and get enough prey through leaf-bare as hostile strangers and hungry rivaling groups eye the player character’s prey.
-Help keep the campmates safe by helping them fight off intruders with the goal of chasing the player character’s group off.
-Get through harsh seasons and fight off dogs, foxes and badgers.
-Learn how to heal campmates with herbs or help them by training kits and gathering prey.
-Attend their meeting every full moon and learn their history (as a tribe or their personal one) and about the other groups.
-Find a mate, start a family, and fight to protect and keep them alive through storms and diseases.
-Watch them grow into independent adults and expand the family tree.
-Walk in the paw steps of the mysterious mountain cats and become a true wild cat and a part of the early 5 clans.
-A cut-scene at the end of the DLC/Sequel will play, showing the player’s 1st character, or the/one of the character(s) from the same clan the player character is in in this DLC/Sequel, from the main/1st game, as a kit in the nursery, being told a story about one of their earliest ancestors, the character the player just played, in modern ThundeShadow/Wind/RiveSkyClan.

As the sun sets, painting the sky in fiery tones, I waited by the roadside as you instructed. That’s when I heard the rumble of an old Bronco. As it quickly approached me with its top off, my eyes were glued as the rugged driver was revealed. During our conversation prior to this meet up you had sent me pictures but I had no idea how attractive you’d be in real life. You stop right next to my car and signaled me to get in. No questions were asked. No words were exchanged. I immediately feel a rush of excitement and anticipation as I hop into the vintage ride, ready for a casual encounter. I sat in your passenger seat as the fresh, cool spring air brushed against my skin. You mentioned a hidden spot and I trusted you. So I sat back and enjoyed the ride when suddenly, without warning, you veered off the road, jumping the curb and going around a gate blocking car access. The sudden movement caused everything, including me, to shift in your car, and instinctively, I found myself grabbing onto your thigh. You remained focused on the road, flashing a smirk as my hand lingered there. Before I could retract it, you guided it up to your crotch. I couldn't help but notice the thickness beneath your pants as my hand rested there. What turned me on more was the heat radiating from the blood pumping through your veins. My mouth watered…. The sun had completely set. The road, flanked by trees casting shadows, your old bronco left a trail of dust behind us as we hurried along. My anxiety spiked as we approached a sharp curve, fearing we might end up in a canal. Thankfully, you began to slow down just in time, revealing a clearing near the curve. Stopping at the sharp curb, you backed into the clearing surrounded by trees. The last couple of minutes seemed chaotic but now we were surrounded by calmness. I glanced up and noticed a splatter of twinkling lights, adding a touch of magic to our adventure. "Hop to the back," you instructed, drawing my attention to the worn-out leather seats. But before I could comply, you paused, pulling out a blanket and spreading it out for me. Typically, encounters like these were quick "cum and go" affairs, but this felt different. I moved to the back, settling in the middle as you requested, my nerves tingling with anticipation. Without warning, you leaned over from the front seat and kissed me passionately, igniting a fire within me. You sensually held my face as your warm tongue brushed up against mine. I felt flushed, motionless, and ready to be yours. You stood up, you began to undress in front of me, prompting my curiousty, "What are you doing?" I had never encouraged full nudity for public play; it felt too risky. “We're good, no one drives back here," you reassured me confidently, leaving me no choice but to trust you. You place both feet beside me as you prop yourself up, placing your elbows on the back beam of your Bronco and lean back. Dangling in front of my face is your long semi hard, uncircumcised dick. You close your eyes, lean your head back and tell me, “show me what that mouth can do." I wanted to tease you a bit, so I spent some time kissing your thighs, getting closer and closer to your balls. You let out soft moans as my mouth traveled all over your lower body. Then, I put one of your balls into my mouth, swishing it around inside before switching to the other one. Meanwhile, I stroked your thighs with my hands. Your breathing became heavy as I managed to fit both your balls into my mouth at once. Tenderly, I licked your balls while warming them up with my hot mouth. Using my tongue, I moved them all around, my lips completely taking your entire sack, up to the root of your cock, which had become hard as a rock. My hands began to stroke your cock. I pulled your member up with one hand and held it against my lips. It was dripping in glossy precum. I brush your head against my lips tasking your bitter-sweetness. I pressed my lips against your head and push your skin back as your cock traveled down my throat. You let out a loud moan letting me know how much you were enjoying my mouth. I look up as I feel you looking down at me. I pull your drenched cock out of my mouth and swipe my tongue over your pee hole. Keeping my eyes locked on yours, I slip your head back into my mouth and push down until my lips press against your base. This drives you insane! “I can tell you love sucking dick.” I grab onto each side of your hips and guide your body toward my face. I want to ensure your entire shaft is snugly nestled down my throat. Your head breaks past the throat barrier. You're so deep in my mouth that your balls are slipping inside my mouth. "Oh fuck!" you shout. "You like this dick, don't you?" Holding your dick down my throat, I couldn't speak, but I did verbally answer, "Mhm," slowly and as loud as I could. This sends vibrations through your cock, even making your balls tingle. "Oh fuck, you're going to make me cum." You have the perfect bubble butt, and I wanted to make sure to rim you for the first time. I grab your hips and signal for you to turn around. You pause for a moment, nervously turning around. Your perfectly smooth butt is ready to be tongue-fucked. I'm afraid I might be suffocated by your ass. I asked you to lean forward while I spread your cheeks, looking for your puckered hole. I lean in and take my first lick, before pushing my face forward deep in between your cheeks as my tongue circulated your hole all while I played with your dick. A few seconds later I heard you say, “oh I fucked up” I was confused what could have gone wrong. I didn’t stop making out with your hole, when I felt your hot-gooey cum on my hand. You were embarrassed to admit you had cum, and cummed quickly. You stood there motionless for a moment. Then you collapsed next to me and apologizing. I didn’t care, I had done my job. You quickly began to dress yourself when I asked, “can you rate my mouth?” You embarrassedly answered, “Are you kidding? You made me cum quick. I’d give you a higher score than 10 if I could.”

I am 17f, 18 in a few months so luckily I will be able to move out soon. My mom started dating him when I was 14, he moved in when I was 16 and it’s been going on ever since. I’m afraid of him and ever since I’ve met him I got a bad feeling around him. I think I met him at 15 he wasn’t super creepy in the beginning until he moved in. He makes sexual comments about me, always finding a way to touch me. everywhere. I’m not sure if it was an accident but he touched my boobs once. Kissed my neck once when we hugged which was a forced hug because my mom made me hug him. Pulled me onto him to sit on his lap, has touched my inner thigh. There is so much more stuff that is just so bad.
Friday night he and my mom invited over some of their friends to cookout and drink. A few people stayed over because they drank too much and after I got done eating I told my mom I was going inside to go to bed. Her boyfriend literally looked at me and told me “goodnight, and don’t worry I would never touch you inappropriately in your sleep”.. he was drunk and said all sorts of weird shit.. I wanted to cry. He even does this stuff in front of my mom but only a few times she has told him to watch his mouth.. I don’t think she cares or she just ignores it idk. I think it’s my fault because I always kinda freeze and not yell at him like I know I should every time he is weird I just avoid him as much as I can.
I have two older siblings who are moved out and if I told them what was going on I am sure one would take me in if I got a job to help out. I am actually scared this guy would go even further but have never really been alone together thank god. I just don’t see the point in talking to my mom about this because he does it around her and she doesn’t do much. I am scared to tell my sister or brother. And he has never done anything too bad like actually assaulted or r*ped me I don’t wanna go to police. I don’t know what to do, I’m just tired of feeling scared at home. Any advice would help

The dark sky loomed over the horizon, as day became night. Smokes stopped churning from the busy factories, revealing the beauty of the stars. Lights started to flicker; their shine mirrored the sight above.
And yet, tranquillity never came. Horse-drawn carriages and trams still strolled upon the hectic boulevards in the great metropolis of Amberton. A city in a constant.

Still, in such hubbub, a young human boy found his solace. A young, naughty boy who defied his parents’ orders to do his homework. Instead, he read the stories of his favourite adventuring party as illustrated in the new edition of ‘Adventurers Weekly’.
Alone, in his room.

Lying on his bed, the child imagined the events as though he was there to witness. Slowly flipping away, page by page. He thought to himself, “Just one more page!”.
Despite the open book on his desk, he was too entranced by the exploits of his idols. Too entranced to notice the clatter outdoors.
Outside the small building, footsteps can be heard. A person, clad in black naught their eyes, was scaling the brown brick wall. Unnoticed by a living soul.
As they reached the window of the young, naughty boy, their paces abruptly stopped. After a few, light taps from the heel, they stomped. With a leap, they trespassed a private property.

The boy was surprised by the improvised acrobatic show. Reflexively, he recoiled and backed himself to the wall. In the process, his journal was thrown off the mattress.
With his vision subjected to the masked intruder, his heartbeats hurried. His breaths were erratic. Cold sweat dripped from his tanned skin.
Yet, he did not scream. As if being visited by a nightmare in a sleep paralysis, the boy was stunned.
He was fearful.
Afraid.

The intruder stood up and then turned to the child in front of them. With a deep voice, they spoke in an oddly calm manner.
“Hello there, boy.”

The boy did not answer. His voice was shackled by dread.

The intruder saw the journal lying on the floor. They then spoke once again,
“Seems like you’re quite fond of legends and adventures, aren’t you?”
“How about one last story about the fall of Rydyan, the elvish king?”

The boy was still locked in fear, keeping his silence. Tears can be seen forming in his eyes.
Step by step, the intruder approached the bed.

“Well, it’s a classic.” They regaled.
“King Rydyan received a prophecy that his granddaughter shall overthrow his rule. Wanting to prevent that from happening, he ordered his granddaughter to be thrown away.”
“We all know what happened next. The granddaughter learned of her heritage, and she grew up to resent the king. After she gained support from the people, Rydyan was overthrown.”

The boy stared in silence. He was backed into a corner, helpless.
His tan face paled; his body trembled. Tears rained down on his cheeks.

The intruder paused, as they slowly breathed. The reflections of their eyes became wavy, damming the sense of guilt. They tried to maintain composure, but slight trembles still escaped as they spoke yet again.
“You see, young lad. My end was written in the prophecies, with you as the bearer. And I will not make the same mistakes as others did.”

Their right hand reached for their hip, revealing a revolver. The boy wanted to yell, but his mouth was locked, bound by fright. He could only close his eyes.
His story would be a short one.
Then…

a thud.

Unexpectedly, the intruder instead lightly threw the gun at the boy. They then removed their mask, revealing the face of a pale human man. The boy’s eyes widened, for it was the face of his idol.
Julius Joules, the gunslinger of the adventuring party shown in the journal.

The man knelt. “This is no way to meet a fan, I know that.” He said as he gazed at the floor. A single tear raced down through his cheek.
“But I’m sorry, lad. Prophecy is prophecy, and I don’t want us to have a lifelong, bloody feud. So, let us just end this right here, right now, shall we?”

The boy was overwhelmed with emotions. A single drop of joy was there, as he saw his hero in person for the first time. Yet, it was overshadowed by the flood of confusion from the strange turn of events. Outshined by the tides of frustration from the unjustness of the world. Combined, they breached the walls of fear.
As the boy was no longer fettered by silence, a shout bolted from his throat.
“I don’t want to hurt you! Why do I even have to do this? You’re my hero!”

“Again, prophecy is prophecy. Run from it, and it’ll catch up anyway.” Said the adventurer, in an attempt to calm the boy and himself.
“And I can’t even try to deny this one, especially when it comes from the seers of the Ezthos Oracle.”

“NO! I don’t care if some old man from a bunch of stupid islands said that I have to hurt you, I won’t do it!” The boy protested. Stubborn.

Julius sighed, “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me that much. Just follow my lead and it’ll be quick and painless, alright?” He held the boy’s hand and placed his gun in it. The boy pushed Julius away, adamantly rejecting the idea.

Outside, the commotion had not gone unnoticed. Rapid thumps can be heard approaching the room. As they stopped, the door was slammed wide open. A loud smack echoed through the room, marking the entrance of a middle-aged couple; interrupted the conversation between their child and his hero.
“Samar! Are you alright? What the hell is going on in here?” The mother shouted; a knife held high with her right hand.
As they were about to lunge at the trespasser, a shred of recognition flew, “Is… is that… Julius Joules?”

“Yes, it is me, in the flesh. You’ve come at an unfortunate time I’m afraid.”

“Is… Is that a GUN?” His father, holding a shovel, saw the object in Samar’s vicinity.
As the realisation came over them, they panicked. Yet, they did not lunge. They would not take chances like that, not against the famed adventurer.
The father dropped his shovel. “Please, PLEASE! I beg of you! Don’t hurt him! He’s just an innocent young boy! He’s the only one that we have!” He pleaded.
“I’ll give you anything! ANYTHING! Take our money, silverware, spices, just not our son’s life!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt your son. And neither I yearn for your wealth. I’m here because of a prophecy.” Explained the adventurer.
“The wise seers of Ezthos Oracle declared that your son shall be the bearer of my end. I know how those stories end, so rather than trying to defy them, I’ll just let him fulfil his destiny. Right here, right now.”

“F*CK THOSE PROPHECIES!” Samar shouted, stunning all in the room. His parents might be upset about his choice of words, but there are more pressing matters at hand.
“Why should I care about what is written for me? Why can’t you just still go explore the world?” Said the boy.

“My son is right!” The father spoke, adding to his son’s wisdom,
“Why don’t you just let fate run its course? Why are you worrying about something so distant?”

Julius sighed, “Well, what if I turn evil in the future if we don’t do this now? What if wickedness overtakes me?”

“Are you evil now?” Asked the boy.

“Well, I don’t know." Answered the adventurer.
"I do try my best to help others, but…”

“Then you’re not evil, and you don’t deserve to be hurt! If you turned evil when I grow up, that’s adult me problem, not today’s me problem!” Said Samar.

“Again, he’s right.” The mother spoke,
“Just live your life, don’t let nonsense like that disturb you. You know, you and your adventures mean a lot to him, right?” She said as she pointed out the various journal clippings on the wall.

“But I…” Julius was speechless. Something had snapped within him.
He was maddened, his obsession with fate overtook him. But the words from the family broke his trance.
What has he done?

He trembled for a second, and all of a sudden, he hugged the boy. He was unable to maintain his calm any longer. His tears finally flew.
“I’m sorry, lad! I’m so sorry! You’re right, you don’t have to do this. You don’t deserve this, not this young.”

The boy wept again, overpowered by his feelings.
Julius Joules, his hero, hugged him. He had convinced the adventurer to stop his insane, prophecy-driven plan. Yet, what just happened was still fresh in the boy's memory, and he dreaded the fact that he would be his champion’s doom.
The parents hugged each other. Relieved. Their son is safe for now.

…

Tears stopped dropping from the adventurer. Calmed down, Julius released his hug, and then slowly walked to the window.
“I’m really sorry about all that happened tonight.” He spoke. “I’ll send compensation soon enough. We’ll meet again someday, hopefully not the way I would expect.”

Just before he left through where he came from, however, the boy’s mother interjected.
“Mr. Joules, please, stay a bit longer. We are just about to have dinner!” Said the woman.
“You’ve probably come a long way from here, and I think you looked a tad bit famished, dear.”

“I don’t think I deserve your kindness,” Replied the adventurer.
“Not after everything that just happened.”

“No, it’s alright. We insist!” Joined the father.
“We have enough for everyone!”

Not wanting to be rude, Julius could only accept.
“Very well. Who am I to be above the laws of hospitality?” He said as he put down his right leg from the window.

The mother spoke, “Good! Now, let me just run the pipes so we all can wash our faces!”
With a slight chuckle, she continued. “I know that we all need that after what just happened.”

"Oh please... You've offered so much already." Uttered Julius.
"Thank you." He continued. A smile formed on his face.

(To be continued?)

My in-laws don’t believe in illness
Am I crazy for not wanting my in-laws near my new born ?
Buckle in because this might be kind of long, I want to give as much context as possible. I (23F) grew up as second oldest (oldest girl) in a family with 6 kids. I was 14 when my youngest brother was born, so I grew up helping take care of the kids and being very involved. I was taught to always wash your hands before holding or touching someone’s baby. Honestly even if you didn’t plan on holding the baby, if you walked into a house with a new born… you washed your hands. While holding/touching the baby you NEVER touch their face, hands, or feet (because they put in their feet and hands in their mouth) and you most definitely never kiss a baby that isn’t yours. This was strictly enforced and I really never thought much of it because that all makes sense to me.
We also didn’t go to someone’s house/ have people over if someone in our house was sick. I do remember missing out on a family Christmas party when I was young due to me being sick, but it was how it was. That was normal.
So fast forward to a couple years ago my husband I welcomed our daughter into the world. I definitely had a lot of anxiety around her getting sick, but no more than what I feel like other new moms go through. When my family/friends came to visit they would always wash their hands. While my mom was there she was on top of it making sure all my younger siblings washed their hands/followed the other rules and I really appreciated it. When we had my in-laws over for the first time… no one even made a move to wash their hands. I kind of awkwardly reminded everyone before they held the baby but they all were touching her hands and feet and smooching her face.
I was genuinely horrified, but didn’t say anything. After they left I brought it up to my husband and asked why they didn’t follow my rules. My husband was genuinely confused and said he had never heard of the hands and feet thing and that wasn’t something he was ever taught growing up. He comes from a family of four kids with them all close in age so he doesn’t have any memories of his siblings as babies or anything. I explained why It was important to me and he completely understood.
So to save me some awkwardness we decided that I was in charge of enforcing any boundaries with my family and he with his. It went okay for a couple weeks but I started having to remind my husband to remind his family. As my daughter got a little older it became less of a big deal and it was fine. THEN we ran into a new set of issues.
When my daughter was about 6months old my husband’s grandmother hosted a family bbq because one of the cousins had just had a baby 2 weeks ago and everyone wanted to meet him. The days leading up to it my daughter and I both came down with a cold. The day of my husband came in and was like “okay when do you want to leave” I was confused and explained that we couldn’t go because our daughter and I were sick. ESPECIALLY because there was going to be a newborn at the party. If I was that baby’s mother and someone showed up sick to a party with my newborn I would literally throw hands. My husband was so confused by this and said that his family would be upset if we didn’t show. I told him to just explain that we were sick and they would understand. He explained that they wouldn’t and that they would be upset. I told him that besides not wanting to spread our cold, our daughter didn’t feel good. The last thing I wanted was to have her passed around to 20 plus people. He eventually agreed and went to the bbq by himself.
Low and behold he was right and the family was offended that I didn’t show up. I was annoyed but we moved past it. Over the years there have been a couple of instances but nothing too bad until this past Mother’s Day.
Currently my daughter is 3 and I am pregnant with our second. Now during my pregnancies I get what’s called HG or Hypermesis Gravardium. It’s a pregnancy condition that causes EXTREME vomiting to the point of weight loss and dehydration. Often resulting in trips to the hospital for fluids and IV treatments. In my case I throw up about 8-12 times a day till about 20 weeks and it lessens to about 4-6 times a day until the day I give birth. Honestly? I barely feel like a person during this.
So on Mother’s Day we show up to my in laws house where my husbands younger brother and his girlfriend also live along with their 2 and 1 yr old boys. We walk outside and both of my nephews have crusty boogers all over their nose and crusty red eyes. I immediately got stressed. I’m already sick all the time I can’t add to it. Plus I can barely take care of my daughter during the day let alone if she were to get sick. I sat away from them and just didn’t say anything. While we were sitting there they start talking about how they have all been sick all week and now FIL wasn’t feeling good so he was inside laying down. I was fuming that they couldn’t have just let us know before hand. I would have chosen not to come and just facetimed MIL instead. I didn’t say anything to my husband though because I didn’t want him to feel like I was attacking his family.
Well we got home and by Monday night we were all sick. My daughter ended up not getting to bad and was okay after a couple days. I however, would cough and it trigger coming. I would sneeze and it would trigger vomiting. This lasted two fucking weeks. My husband ended up mentioning it to his brother and he just said “oh shit haha guess we got everyone sick” I lost it. I had a full pregnant woman sobbing meltdown about how I felt no respect from his family and I think I hurt my husbands feelings. My baby is due in October and my anxiety about him being around my husbands family for the holidays has me in a chokehold. It’s RSV season and I’m going to be begging everyone to wash their hands. Are they going to show up to family parties with sick kids? How do I get the message across without offending them? Or are these Boundries over top and my mom was just way too scared of illness. I’m at a point of telling my husband I don’t want his family near my baby while he is little, even though I know that’s not fair.

Am I crazy for not wanting my in-laws near my new born ?
Buckle in because this might be kind of long, I want to give as much context as possible. I (23F) grew up as second oldest (oldest girl) in a family with 6 kids. I was 14 when my youngest brother was born, so I grew up helping take care of the kids and being very involved. I was taught to always wash your hands before holding or touching someone’s baby. Honestly even if you didn’t plan on holding the baby, if you walked into a house with a new born… you washed your hands. While holding/touching the baby you NEVER touch their face, hands, or feet (because they put in their feet and hands in their mouth) and you most definitely never kiss a baby that isn’t yours. This was strictly enforced and I really never thought much of it because that all makes sense to me.
We also didn’t go to someone’s house/ have people over if someone in our house was sick. I do remember missing out on a family Christmas party when I was young due to me being sick, but it was how it was. That was normal.
So fast forward to a couple years ago my husband I welcomed our daughter into the world. I definitely had a lot of anxiety around her getting sick, but no more than what I feel like other new moms go through. When my family/friends came to visit they would always wash their hands. While my mom was there she was on top of it making sure all my younger siblings washed their hands/followed the other rules and I really appreciated it. When we had my in-laws over for the first time… no one even made a move to wash their hands. I kind of awkwardly reminded everyone before they held the baby but they all were touching her hands and feet and smooching her face. I was genuinely horrified, but didn’t say anything. After they left I brought it up to my husband and asked why they didn’t follow my rules. My husband was genuinely confused and said he had never heard of the hands and feet thing and that wasn’t something he was ever taught growing up. He comes from a family of four kids with them all close in age so he doesn’t have any memories of his siblings as babies or anything. I explained why It was important to me and he completely understood.
So to save me some awkwardness we decided that I was in charge of enforcing any boundaries with my family and he with his. It went okay for a couple weeks but I started having to remind my husband to remind his family. As my daughter got a little older it became less of a big deal and it was fine. THEN we ran into a new set of issues.
When my daughter was about 6months old my husband’s grandmother hosted a family bbq because one of the cousins had just had a baby 2 weeks ago and everyone wanted to meet him. The days leading up to it my daughter and I both came down with a cold. The day of my husband came in and was like “okay when do you want to leave” I was confused and explained that we couldn’t go because our daughter and I were sick. ESPECIALLY because there was going to be a newborn at the party. If I was that baby’s mother and someone showed up sick to a party with my newborn I would literally throw hands. My husband was so confused by this and said that his family would be upset if we didn’t show. I told him to just explain that we were sick and they would understand. He explained that they wouldn’t and that they would be upset. I told him that besides not wanting to spread our cold, our daughter didn’t feel good. The last thing I wanted was to have her passed around to 20 plus people. He eventually agreed and went to the bbq by himself.
Low and behold he was right and the family was offended that I didn’t show up. I was annoyed but we moved past it. Over the years there have been a couple of instances but nothing too bad until this past Mother’s Day.
Currently my daughter is 3 and I am pregnant with our second. Now during my pregnancies I get what’s called HG or Hypermesis Gravardium. It’s a pregnancy condition that causes EXTREME vomiting to the point of weight loss and dehydration. Often resulting in trips to the hospital for fluids and IV treatments. In my case I throw up about 8-12 times a day till about 20 weeks and it lessens to about 4-6 times a day until the day I give birth. Honestly? I barely feel like a person during this.
So on Mother’s Day we show up to my in laws house where my husbands younger brother and his girlfriend also live along with their 2 and 1 yr old boys. We walk outside and both of my nephews have crusty boogers all over their nose and crusty red eyes. I immediately got stressed. I’m already sick all the time I can’t add to it. Plus I can barely take care of my daughter during the day let alone if she were to get sick. I sat away from them and just didn’t say anything. While we were sitting there they start talking about how they have all been sick all week and now FIL wasn’t feeling good so he was inside laying down. I was fuming that they couldn’t have just let us know before hand. I would have chosen not to come and just facetimed MIL instead. I didn’t say anything to my husband though because I didn’t want him to feel like I was attacking his family.
Well we got home and by Monday night we were all sick. My daughter ended up not getting to bad and was okay after a couple days. I however, would cough and it trigger coming. I would sneeze and it would trigger vomiting. This lasted two fucking weeks. My husband ended up mentioning it to his brother and he just said “oh shit haha guess we got everyone sick” I lost it. I had a full pregnant woman sobbing meltdown about how I felt no respect from his family and I think I hurt my husbands feelings. My baby is due in October and my anxiety about him being around my husbands family for the holidays has me in a chokehold. It’s RSV season and I’m going to be begging everyone to wash their hands. Are they going to show up to family parties with sick kids? How do I get the message across without offending them? Or are these Boundries over top and my mom was just way too scared of illness. I’m at a point of telling my husband I don’t want his family near my baby while he is little, even though I know that’s not fair.

Photos linked in comments.
I (27F) have no known allergies, and the only medication I'm on is spironolactone and a topical retinoid. I have never experienced this before.
I have been sleeping on a dorm bed for two nights with fresh sheets. I have an ear piercing on my left ear that I try not to sleep on because it will grow irritated.
On my second night in the dorm bed, I think I slept mainly on my right side, which isn't unusual. I woke up at 7AM with a massive right cheek that felt mildly numb/tingly. Thinking it was "facial edema" after a Google search, I tried some lymphatic draining massages around 7:30AM. At 8AM, I took 400mg of ibuprofen and iced my cheek on and off until 10AM.
At 1PM, swelling was down, though not gone, so I took another 400mg of ibuprofen and 25mg of benadryl just in case it was an allergic reaction. Expecting my face to be normal after a benadryl nap, I slept on my back.
I woke up with sustained swelling -- no more, but no less either. My cheek and upper ear had a warm sensation along with being "hot" to the touch. I took another 400mg of ibuprofen at 11pm and woke up at 7AM with sustained swelling once again.
I am not in any pain. I don't have any wounds inside of my mouth. I don't feel or see anything either on my face or inside of my mouth that would lead to infection.
What could be wrong? Do I go to the ER?

I already made the first post regarding episode 1 and 2, here are the links, if you are interested:
https://www.reddit.com/PolinBridgerton/comments/1d8p07y/analysing_thematic_imagery_of_season_3_episode_1/
https://www.reddit.com/PolinBridgerton/comments/1daa5se/analysing_thematic_imagery_of_season_3_episode_2/
Same note as before: I do not claim all of these thoughts as originals of mine, I am not taking credit for noticing what others already noticed, and feel free to credit those who were first in comments. Also feel free to comment what you see and I do not! Or challenge me or mine.
I shall do my best to deliver analysis of the fourth episode before part 2 drops.
General imagery of the season so far (feel free to skip if you read the last post or posts):
The main thematic imagery of this season is reflection; how characters are perceived by others and how they deal with those perceptions. It ties to both leads, who were given roles by society which they must fight from time to time, and how society’s perception of them changes and controls them. Mirror imagery was important throughout the previous season not only for Pen and Colin, however in this season in particular, mirror imagery appears very often, and I expected it to continue (ehem ehem).
Tied closely to reflection imagery, we see the dichotomy of light and shadows. This dichotomy is alluded to by titles of 3 episodes of the whole season; and through this dichotomy, social roles and expectations are established. Colin is in the light, showered by compliments from members of the Ton, while Pen is forced to be in the shadows. She uses the shadows as LW to her advantage, while Colin uses his power within the light to his advantage.
The general idea is that Pen needs to decide whether she wants to stay in the shadows, which might be easier, or whether she is willing to take a risk by stepping into the light. Other characters are also haunted by their reflections. I shall dive into it in each episode.
Episode 3: Forces of Nature
While the second episode heavilly relied on the dichotomy of the day and the night to showcase masculine and feminine power, the third episode features dichotomy of nature and humanity. I have very briefly touched upon it in previous analysis regarding the promenade, when Pen asks whether she can learn to flirt through books and the moment was juxtaposed with the nature behind our leads.
It is not a new dichotomy for the show. We can for example remember the ending of episode 6 from previous season ("Animals require no contracts or dowries. The hen and a rooster make no vows. Leave it to people to complicate matters with their ceremonies and their cakes.").
The nature represents the attraction and longing, while the humanity represents either obstacles in following our desires, or simply a rationale to be "sensible" instead. Lady Whistledown acknowledges that people can somewhat triumph ("Humankind has accomplished extraordinary feats in its attempt to compete against nature."), but the episodes concludes that not only will the nature win in the end, the battle does not even include the nature, but the people who fight themselves. Basically concluding that there are no winners.
"All of man's greatest inventions are nothing more than a distraction from which is most natural to us. Our instincts. The innate animal impulse that is inside even the most sophisticated of us. For all is said and done, our nature will always win out."
Both Penelope and Colin fail to fight their own feelings in this episode.
While the natural forces refer to inner desires, we might focus on the literal natural forces which symbolize them: the Featherington garden (aka the place of crime), and the fire; the most featured in this episode, though, is the wind. The natural force which ensured the first meeting of our leads and (at least according to the books and trailer for part 2), caused Penelope to fall for Colin, as he (literally) fell from his horse.
I shall get to it more later. Let's go again scene by scene.
Third episode begins with Colin's dream. Dreams are of course heavilly linked with both Colin, Pen and their desires. Ironically, Colin's dream represents his waking up Marina alluded to in the last season ("You are a boy, caught up in his own fantasies... You need to wake up, Colin!").
While Penelope stopped dreaming and gave up on her "fantasy" after Colin's comment in the end of season 2 ("I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington, not in your wildest fantasies."), Colin is awaken at the same place, in a cheeky way, by his dream.
The Featherington garden represents crucial moments of their relationship so far. Firstly, it was the place where he broke her heart by his statement, and sparked her intention to marry. Secondly, of course, it was the place where they came to their agreement, with her agreeing to move from him by accepting his help, while he put himself in a vulnerable position to face feelings he did not acknowledge before. Thirdly, it is the place where he was forced to face his feelings VERY directly by agreeing to kiss her.
Colin's subcontious wants to "repair" the moment. It is cheeky for Colin to apologize for the late hour, which might have been appropriate for their last meeting, as well.
Fans have had a lot of fun dissecting Colin's psyche, as Colin's dream features basically every cliché of a raunchy romance novel, which is, of course, very intentional. The first shot features the fire burning, symbolizing Colin's realized feelings. The fog might either allude to the mystery whether Colin's love is requited, or to form a "protection from the gazes of others".
This episode offers a lot storytelling through clothing with Colin especially, and I shall dive to each of his looks. Generally speaking, Colin trades vulnerability for his armor repeatedly in the first half of the episode, culminating in his Innovations Ball look, which I find the most vulnerable.
Colin in his dream is dressed similarly as he was in the end of episode 2, however, his neck is now bare, alluding to his vulnerability. Pen's neckline is lower, her loose hair as well as the fit of the gown make it seem like she is in her nightgown. Still, it is very respectable look for a wet dream, likely to showcase and hammer that Colin did not found vulnerability anew, not sexual desire.
I find it interesting that the shot does not start with Colin walking into the frame, who is the one dreaming, but with Penelope. Perhaps the intention was to try to mess with fans and give them the impression it is Pen who dreams. Colin does not get confirmation of her feelings until he admits his. Again, Colin is the vulnerable this time, not Penelope. The scene focuses much more on her pleasure than his, either to again fool the audience, or again, to sell the difference.
As Colin wakes up, we get more visual clues in the globe and the map, likely alluding to his travelling experience, which are connected to his sexuality. The other is, of course, that his blanket is yellow, a color tied to Pen (resembling the shal Violet has in the portrait, again to sell the paraller of the couples, even before Violet states it to the audience at the end of this episode). He looks to the window, which might allude to him trying to find her, as she lives accross the street, which he likely did for the first time in last episode, or trying to find the light, representing a) his social role as a popular charming rake, and b) his masculine power.
Gregory's injury might thematically tie to multiple things. Gregory was established as a cupid, who pierces Colin's heart, and who now can't do so, meaning that Colin is trapped. Gregory can also represent Colin himself as he can't even properly eat with his injury, which was something Colin also mentioned of not being able to do so. We know that Gregory falls injures the hand before he has a chance to see the balloon, which might foreshadow the ending of the episode, when Colin tries to find the answer, only to not get it and be hurt.
Colin comes to the drawing room in a brown vest. The color of the vest reminds me of his pirate coat, and I wonder whether it is basically his "casual armor", the one he wears around his family now, not wanting them to know of his feelings. It is also worth pointing out that when Colin walks in, he goes to his brothers who sit seperately from the sisters and the mother, almost to shocase Colin's tendency to trying to follow male squad, even the toxic one.
Our dearest prophetess Hyacinth strikes again by mentioning Penelope. It is worth noting that while Colin is distressed, he still realizes that he likely hurt Eloise by commenting on Lady Whistledown finding about their ordeal, and seems to attempt to follow her to make sure she is fine. Colin can't refer to Penelope as his or as a friend, so he opts to refers to her as the acquaintance of the whole family and sips the tea this time. Colin's drinking is a recurring gag this season, showcasing his growing attraction towards Pen.
From the Queen's and Agatha's meeting, we get an interesting gag of the male suitors being thrown. Penelope fell for Colin when he fell from the horse, which is rather cheeky to remember when the one falling this time is Debling.
Penelope leaves her room just in time for her to a) be reminded of the importance of producing an heir, b) be reminded of her reasons she intended to find a husband, hearing her sisters. I believe that it is Eloise's comment that sparks Pen's hope to find a husband once again, as she gets her blessing. Penelope knew she couldn't stay away for long, but to keep her column, not because she gained hope.
It is quite reasonable that Penelope chose to promenade after week in her room. We are left to wonder why Colin choose to do so and if he was perhaps trying to see her. However, from his expression, I do believe that he was surprised to see her. Colin is the one who follows Pen this episode, showcasing the change in the dynamic. Penelope often followed him instead in the previous episode.
Penelope's styling seems very childish, with her ribbons, hair to the side and pinkish and lilac tone of her dress, perhaps a visual way for her to distance herself from the ordeal and that kiss. Colin is wearing the style akin to previous seasons, with his armor being left home. They are children once again. The willow the meet under might symbolize innocence, protection, childhood, as it somewhat shields them from the Ton. The long distance show might allude to them suddenly feeling a gap between themselves, or perhaps a need to keep their distance after the whole ordeal.
It is cheeky that Penelope relies on her double identity when asked for a reasoning. She might have just as easily pointed out the Ton itself, instead, she uses Lady Whistledown she disparaged in the last episode. Just as Colin refered to the Pen in regards to all Bridgertons, Penelope refers to her and his family regarding the embarassment. Pen thanking Colin for his kindness is of course very funny paraller to her comment about his cruelty in episode 1; a comment which might have hurt him the same.
Debling starts the episode as the hunted "prey", not only as Cressida (and later Pen) is after him, but by himself, as he wants to find a hiding place. However, Debling of course changes into the "predator" later.
Stowell House in general does not seem particularly inviting. It either displays mirrors or the "prey" on the walls, signalling Pen's entrapment. Penelope does not hide even in her corner, where she is found by the toxic buddies.
Penelope assures her mother that Ton will likely be distracted by the new scandal. Portia of course does not know that it is Penelope herself who is Lady Whistledown, and who might have a chance to publish such a scandal, but only if Pen leaves her hideout. Pen later offers social contagion as a joke, which might be a fun way of alluding to her double identity, as she holds a bit of power regarding social assesment.
Mirror imagery is quite cheeky regarding our leads and Debling. Pen's back is seen in mirror behind her, which might signal that she is currently social outcast, still uncomfortable after the incident, or visual signal of Pen hiding her identity.
With Colin's arrival, it is Pen who looks at him first, just when he looks at Eloise. Colin notices and continues to look, while Pen looks away and hides as a "prey". Colin turns away and we see a glimpse of him in the mirror. Pen fell first, but he fell harder. Colin flees the mirror, as he will continue to do so in this episode, following her.
Debling does not mind the mirror at all (something he seems to share with Agatha and Benedict) and as Pen becomes more comfortable, the mirror seems to dissapear from the shot. It is worth pointing out that both Colin and Debling have waistcoats with yellow ornaments, alluding to both of them being interested in Pen.
Colin is accompanied by the candles both when Eloise mentions Penelope, as well as when he is "assessing his pupil", alluding to his growing love. I do not think it was unintentional to have Alice mention his "kindheartedness", after Penelope thanks him for his "kindness". Not only do both mention the possibility of a different suitor, they also use similar language when speaking of Colin's role in it, rubbing the idea deeper.
Even more cheeky is that Alice does not refer to Penelope by name, only as a pupil, while Colin comments on it as "gossip" finding their home. Colin refers to Whistledown when asked about Penelope; while Pen is, of course, both subject of the gossip as well as its source as lady Whistledown.
Eloise'a and Cressida's scene alludes to Eloise walking to the crossroads and choosing a path she might regret. Eloise does not help Cressida much, but it is enough for her to easily win over Pen at first.
Finally, we get likely the most in face reference of the episode: Hawkins Balloon, with its blue and yellow stripes. It likely symbolizes our leads, with Colin seeing the balloon (aka embracing the opportunity of them becoming a couple), while Pen ignores it in favour of Debling.
Colin arrives in his armor, aka with his pirate coat firmly on. But his defence crumble rather quickly. He follows Penelope immedietely. At first, he follows her instruction to focus on sweets, but more and more into the scene, he just begins to look at Pen, the only exception is when Pen compliments Debling, as he feels a need to hide his feelings.
Colin loses his battle while seeing Pen eating the cake. The cake symbolized sex even back in 102, when Pen asks Marina how did she become pregnant. What is striking, though, that the next time Colin is shown on screen, he took off his coat and seems to finish Penelope's cake. Colin lets his armor down, just before his heroic moment.
The balloon is representation of a human attempt to "triumph" over the nature, to "conquer the wind". Funnily, as Colin with the help of his squad protects the balloon and wins over the wind, he loses his own battle against it internally, as the wind represents his desire for Penelope. Colin finds courage and allows himself to be vulnerable (by leaving the pirate coat, his armor, behind in the arms of one of his toxic buddies), only for him to find Penelope in Debling's embrace. Eloise and Cressida's remarks might be quite cruel foreshadowing for the later events. "It is good thing no one was injured." "Who says I wasn't?"
The distress of Colin at Innovations Ball is implied with his darker waistcoat, bare neck and him adjusting his jacket. Colin attempts his best to smile for Eloise, but it is a rather unsuccesful attempt. If I dare say, Colin seems like he is attending funeral. His question whether a man can be pensive is rather interesting, not only as it is pun on Penelope's name, but as Colin asks basically if he can be himself.
Penelope and Portia ignore the lamp, the sorce of fire and light, which I would argue, represents the love between Pen and Colin.
Benedict refers to Francesca as "his shield" from the debutantes, and we see Benedict succeeding in fleeing the debutantes with the sister by his side. Eloise, on the other hand, leaves Colin to them, leaving him "unprotected". This is hammered with Violet, who without the children by her side, becomes the target of Marcus. It is no wonder Francesca finds her man when she is allowed to return to her familiar shadows, with fireplace representing love, passion and desire once again. Benedict, too, fails to "battle the nature", as he finds himself in the embrace of his newest partner, after he meets her at the staircase, with her looking down on him.
As the debutantes ask Colin if he is as heroic on the dancefloor, Colin moves his head instead of answering, while we get the shot of Pen holding her own dancecard. It is quite clear. Colin is losing his chance.
While Penelope's and Cressida's race is for comedic effect, it showcases that a lot of times, women fight over guys they might even want, just because they fear someone else will snatch them. While Cressida is pressured to be married, no one points out that she almost married Jack last season, someone who turned out to be a schemer. Daphne won her own "race", only to end up with Simon. Cressida fails to gain Colin's attention in season 1 and 2 mostly due to her treatment of Penelope and Daphne.
Penelope finds herself on the crossroads between Colin and Debling. She chooses to look at Colin, showcasing to the audience that Pen is romantic at heart. While Colin answers the question of debutantes, he is in fact encouraging himself, but as he can't help but look at her, she takes it as his confirmation of wishing her good luck as a mentor. Just as Pen unknowingly let Colin down in willow scene with her words, Colin just done the same. Cheekily, Debling asks whether Pen has trouble with the balloon, while she answers "not at present". As she gave up on Colin in that instance.
Penelope herself pretends to love nature to secure herself a naturalist, ignoring her own desire to be with Colin. Ironically, she secures the naturalist by openly stating she does not really care about nature, when she cares about what nature represents in this episode. Debling giving Pen lemonade ties narratively to Pen leaving the lemonade at the table during the Full-Moon ball, as well as her leaving it at drawing scene with Colin.
I believe that Debling caught on Colin's feelings at this instant. The reason I believe so is that Pen's dance card was still blank and Pen gave Colin time to react. Debling did not ask Penelope for dance beforehand, and she hoped that Colin would speak... which is something Colin might have realized once Penelope gives Debling his hand and dance card is visible to him.

—
“.....”
Rika stared at her hand, at the backside of her palm, her skin color is that of an overripe and sweet sapodilla. She doesn't know what that thing is, but that's what her dad used to call it, apparently some sort of fruit, but she doesn't know what fruit is either. it’s slightly blue now, stained by the blood of a… thing. She looked at it, the… she doesn't know what to call it, pink thing… pink… pinky? Sounds good enough for her, she looked at pinky.
“hmm…”
Pinky is… weird? She's seen some weird things in her life, an irradiated wasteland can always hold a surprise, but this is… peculiar. In a way she couldn't really put her finger on, more so because she can't touch pinky for too long because they are really cold. But she wants to touch pinky, pinky is interesting. Pinky has four eyes, no hair, and a beautiful skin, she's almost jealous.
“.....”
Her curiosity took over and she scooted over to where pinky is, laying on her bed, with bandages on their tummy. She's honestly not sure why she instantly knows that pinky is bleeding, when she found them in that fire pit, created by that blue light that came from the clouds. Actually, she remembers it quite fondly. She remembered her dad coming back home, bleeding from his tummy, and asked her to fetch some bandages. He told her it was done by bad guys.
Poke
“Pinky? Are you awake?”
Poke
He told her bad guys don't like her, or dad, and want to kick them out. Dad said don't listen, and fight back, since then she really hates bad guys, and thought everyone but her and her dad are bad. She got a lecture for thinking that, and her dad told her not everyone is bad, some people are good, friends he called it, Rika never had friends before but she would love to have one someday.
Poke
“Hello?”
Poke
As Rika continuously poked Pinky, she wondered if Pinky is a bad guy or friend, or maybe they got hurt by a bad guy, are there bad guys in the clouds?. Pinky looks nice, they don't look like bad guys, but who knows, once her dad said that bad guys sometimes lie and make themselves look like friends.
“Wow…”
Pinky’s skin is cold, very cold, it hurts if she touches it too long, but if she touches it for just a few seconds, it’s actually comfortable. So Rika did just that, occasionally putting her palm on Pinky, and enjoying the cold. But suddenly Pinky doesn't feel as cold anymore, she was wondering why when Pinky woke up, and slapped her.
—
“AHH! Get away from me!”
“@#!”
Ciro’s not having it today, she just woke up, and expected maybe the white and yellow of her ship’s medical bay, the feeling of a soft bed on her back, hoping maybe all that she saw before is just a very long and weird dream.
“Shoo! Shoo!”
“...?”
It isn't, unfortunately. She woke up to the brown and black of a cave, and the feeling of what barely passes as a bed laying on rough sand and pebbles on her back, it is not in fact a very long and weird dream. It is, in fact, reality, reality is terrifying as they say and she would agree, as she immediately sees the creature again the very next second of her eyes opening.
“Shoo! Get out of here! D-d-don’t hurt me!...”
“€π?”
“W-what?”
It spoke…? In language she doesn't recognize, it seems… confused? She's not sure if whatever the creature is doing with its face counts as an expression. But it does seem… curious, undeniably so, it tilted her head at her, and looked at her with its curious brown eyes before leaning forward. That, of course, scared the soul out of Ciro.
“Eek! Stay away!”
Now it looks surprised, kind of. It backs away slightly, with their back facing the entrance of the cave, a harsh ray of sunlight peered through the cave’s mouth and some violent wind can be heard. It still stared at her, with that… admittedly… beautiful brown eyes, she's never seen it before. She found herself locking gaze with the creature, feeling a strange sensation as she did.
“Uhm…….. hi”
She suddenly strangely relaxed, as if she didn't just experience ejecting out of her exploding ship and meeting a foreign alien right after. But it got her mind calm, and more rational, now that she is, she should probably stop calling it creature, it's undoubtedly sapient. It had clothes, a terrifying helmet as she recalls, and clearly some decent technology, looking at… gnarly looking weapon resting on the wall next to them.
“π¥! ¥^# £¥¢@!”
It- no… they spoke again, it kind of sounds like an introduction, but it's not like Ciro knows what it means so who knows, could be a threat. They kept staring at her, rather inappropriately. Their eyes wandered to somewhere on Ciro’s lower body, and pointed at it with one of their five clawed fingers. She was about to think about the predatorial implications that the claw gave her, but she's too busy panicking about the wound on her stomach right now.
“Oh God…”
It’s patched up, neatly and appropriately, but also rather tightly. The moment she became aware of it the pain came rushing through like a busted dam. She held her stomach as she curled to a fetal position, tears coming out of her eyes.
“Argh…!”
That's when a hand grabbed her shoulder, she looked up to see the… she should really give it a name, the first thing to come out of her pained mind is critter, and she stuck with it. Critter was staring at her, they seemed to be worried, Critter looked around, before getting up and running towards a dark green colored backpack. Critter rummages through it, before finding what they were looking for, signified by them going what Ciro assumes to be “AHA!”
“Huh?”
They ran up to her and presented it in their hands, an assortment of what look like pills, they're giving her medication?
“I… i can't, i don't know what's in it, it can- ergh!... Mmph… it can kill me…”
Critter insisted, all the while looking at her with all the worry in the world, for a second she wanted to question why it’s so… passionate? The amount of compassion shown to someone they probably have never seen before, it’s kind of sweet. She would appreciate it, if she's not in great pain right now, with a shake of the head she refused the pills, leaving Critter confused and even more worried.
“Sorry… i can't”
Ciro closed her eyes, maybe if she can get her mind away from it the pain would recede. She got nothing, even though her kind is known for how well they can handle their own minds she can't seem to suppress it. But when something touched her head she calmed down, it felt warm, and comfortable, and soft. She opened her eyes again to see Critter…
“...?”
“Uh…”
Are they…. Are they petting her? They are, and it… it feels good, oddly so.
—
Rika caressed Pinky's, they seemed to be in pain and when she offered them painkillers, they refused, she was at a loss at how to calm them down, until she remembered something. When she was little, she found a stray kitten that wandered near her home. It was crying and she had no clue how to calm it down, until she touched the kitty’s head and petted it.
“Okay? Are you okay?”
Her dad didn't like kittens, made him go achoo achoo, he calls it… al… ler… gi…? Something like that, she's not very good at spelling. Doesn't matter though, Pinky looks to be enjoying it, they're not crying any more, that's good if you ask her. A couple of minutes pass, filled with nothing but oddly awkward silence and the sound of someone being petted.
“Hmm?”
When she was done Pinky had completely stopped crying and holding their tummy. At the same time they seemed to snap out of a trance, and looked at her, she replied with a smile, after remembering that Pinky doesn't speak like her.
“Hi!”
She tried anyway, surely anyone knows what a "hi" is right?. Surely, as sure as the lightness in her head, she felt it suddenly, it was unpleasant and it felt like someone was poking the inside of her head.
“Ow…. That hurts”
She laid down on the cave floor, and wondered why she's like this all of a sudden. She looked at dust carried by the wind outside. It might be that the air can be kind of funky sometimes, she should really cover the cave with a tarp. She did just that, though making sure the tarp’s color can blend in with the surrounding is a little hard when she can barely even focus from all the lightheadedness.
“There… set and sound… ow…”
She's still feeling it, even more severe now. Probably because it already got to her, oh well, what can she do? It should pass soon enough, she's been through more, a headache is not going to take her down, maybe. She sat down next to her rifle and sighed, messaging her head as she did, it relieved some of the pain, but didn't make it go away.
“Hmph…”
Maybe she should go back trying to talk with Pinky, maybe that can calm it down-
“Hey…”
“Huh?”
—
One thing Qo’kvells can do other than telepathically communicate with each other is… look into the mind of a non-Qo'kvell. Unethical, dishonorable, despisable, medically problematic, since it hurts anyone who isn't mentally capable, which everyone who is not a Qo’kvell. But… it can help, in some things. Like… knowing the ill intentions of others, or a problem in their mind, or getting to know them, or… learning their language.
“Ow…”
And she has never seen a language so complicated it hurts her head just thinking about it. Not until she probed Critter’s head, to see if there's a way to communicate, it visibly affected them, but they handled it far-far better than anyone else, most would pass out in the first 3 seconds, Critter seems mostly unfazed. From it, she knows a lot, but understands few, she did learn Critter is a she, so hey, fellow girls at least.
“Mmh… oh… I shouldn't have done this…”
And her intent is well, she's trying to help her, the pills she offered were painkillers, and she saved Ciro from her pod’s burning wreckage. She suppose she can thank her, but learning a language takes some time and brain effort, and it certainly hurts, so she holds off for now. Critter’s memory is hazy, and hard to reach, it’s almost like her brain is actively fighting against her telepathy.
Maybe I should say something… hmm… this is… a word for introduction right? I hope, please don't be a slur or something’
“Hey…”
“Huh?”
‘did it work?’
“H-hi…”
From Critter's memory, she learned that waving her hand seems to be some sort of introductory gesture, so she did that. She was expecting shock, but what she got was a very happy Critter, who seemed to instantly forget about their headache.
“you can talk!”
“A… small-”
‘wait, no that's wrong’
“Me… mean… little?”
‘That's also wrong, what in the lands below is this language?!’
“Who are you? What's your name? I'm Rika! I’m friend!”
She can barely understand that wall of words, she did hear a name… Wi… no, Ric… e? No, wrong again, Ri… ka…? Sounds… correct-ish. She also noticed she was being asked her name, she tried her best to piece it together using the strange letters of Rika’s language.
“am… Ce… ehm, no… Ci… Ciro”
“Ciro? Oh man… Pinky is not right at all”
She has no clue what Rika is talking about, and it’s probably best she doesn't question it. But now she has to ask the important questions. She tried her best to form a sentence in her head before trying to speak. She could just try and probe again, but her head’s not having it so neither does she.
“When… no, me mea- no… I mean… Where… am… i?”
“Hmmm? oh, we’re in a cave”
“I… know… I mean… what place?”
“What? Uh… Oh! Yes, you’re not from here, sorry, we’re in a desert! My dad calls it wasteland, i don't know why, i don't a see a lot of trash out here”
Wasteland? Desert wasteland? Ciro was curious, what kind of species prefers to live in a desert? Wasteland no less?
“Why?”
“The whole world is like this, dad calls it end of the world, i don't see anything ending out here, so i don't really know”
End of the world… Ciro realized the grim implications of that sentence and frowned, with a bit of pity towards Rika.
“”stranded in post apocalyptic planet, great””
“What? You speak weird again”
“Oh… apologiz- uh, i mean, sorry, it is n-native… mouth”
“Oh, i’ve heard of that, dad used to tell me other people can speak another way, can you teach me?”
Rika’s eyes light up, she seems oddly innocent and childlike in… well… apocalypse, for gods know how long. She suppose education isn't as strong as it used to be in that condition, but shouldn't Rika be a bit more… aware?
“N-no, it… hard”
“Aww… it’s fine, you can speak like me anyway, how do you do it?”
“I…”
She's not sure what to say, Rika probably doesn't know what telepathy is, or maybe and she does, Ciro’s got nothing on her culture.
“Just… special… thing, i can do”
“Ooh!... What is it?”
“Difficult… explain… t-to explain, i mean”
“It’s okay… are you good? You’re wounded, i took care of it but you were still hurt”
“Am… fine”
She's really not, but she's functional which is good enough, Rika’s work on her wounds was surprisingly exceptional.
“Great!... Hmm… do you want to go with me?”
“W-where?”
“Hold on! Let me get it!”
Rika ran to her bag again, and took out some sort of… square? It unfolded to a large rectangular shape, is it made of… paper?
‘Her species still uses paper?’
She was a bit confused, if they can make advanced medicine then shouldn't they be way past that? Then she was reminded by the sound of the violent wind outside.
‘oh yeah… apocalypse’
She ran back to him all excited, Ciro can practically taste the thick naivety of this girl as she spoke with the largest smile she has ever seen.
“We’re here, not too far away from my home, but that's not where I'm going! I wanna go here! Look!”
She pointed to a drawing that resembles a mountain.
“It’s a really tall mountain! My dad’s been there before! He said it looks very pretty!”
“What… for?”
“To meet someone! My dad said there's someone very special there! That I should meet them! He said it’s important for everyone too… but he wanted to tell me first!”
Rika kept mentioning this “”dad””, and Ciro is going to go out on a limb to guess this dad is her parent.
“Is… dad mother?”
“Wha? No! My dad is a man! Strongest man ever!”
‘so a father?’
“Where is… dad?”
All the light in Rika’s eyes disappeared, replaced with something that made Ciro uneasy. Even when only partially connected, she can feel a strong feeling of sorrow from Rika, if she was probing her head Ciro probably would have been dead or atleast incapacitated from the sudden emotional overload.
“I…. Sorry”
“It’s okay… but he told me to go here, he gave me everything he has, and taught me everything, he said it can save me, everyone, i don't know what he means… but i’ll do it, for him, it’s all he always wanted”
Her voice wasn't as energetic as before, far from it. Ciro noticed that Rika glanced at the terrifying looking weapon on the wall, it seems it's more than just a tool of self defense.
“Ah… anyway, do you want to come with me?”
Ciro weighted her choices, she doesn't know this planet, she doesn't know how it is like after whatever happened to it, she doesn't know if others of Rika’s kind are as friendly as her, or if they even consider her approachable at all, she doesn't know how to survive, she's not that kind of person. At this point, she's not even worried, she nodded in response to her question, and perhaps, in a pleasant turn of event, Rika lit up once again, back to how she was.
“So you want to be friends?!”
“Y-yes…”
‘that feels regrettable in the long run’
“Yeeee! First friend! Uhm… oh, i forgot to ask, where are you from? Why are you riding that light?”
“What?”
“I save you, from a burning pit, light from the sky landed there, are you from up there? Why are you here?”
Ciro decided it doesn't hurt to just tell Rika, she would probably be more impressed and excited than terrified that there are other civilizations out there.
“Am from… uh… space, above sky, i am a…. Ko’k ehm… Q… Qo’kvell…”
“Above the sky? In the stars?”
Ciro was right, she looks absolutely excited.
“Yes… my kind… explore stars, am explorer”
“Oh! Are you exploring down here? What is it like up there?”
“Hard… to explain, explain… later”
“Aww… okay… let's go now should we? Storm is smaller now, we can go”
Rika was right, the wind outside had calmed down.
“Shure… S-sure, i mea- AHH!”
Rika pulled her up from her sitting position, and tore through cover protecting the cave from the winds outside. Outside was… bright, and hot, unpleasant, they seemed to be in a valley between two mountains. All Ciro can see is a dry landscape where trees used to be, hinted by the dry stumps barely poking out of the gravel and sand. A complete terraformation is she has to guess, something hit this planet hard.
“Wait here! I'll go get my stuff first!”
Ciro wondered how Rika managed to survive all this, but the more time she spent with her the more it seems to her Rika grew up in all of this, not forced into it.
‘how long has it been?’
“Let's go! We’re still far from it!”
Rika came out of the cave, bag on her back and weapon in hand.
“Where… is… vehicle?”
“Oh! It’s right here!”
She walked up to a large rock and pointed to it, Ciro was confused until Rika grabbed it and it turned out to be some sort of camouflage cover. It was nearly invisible, blending in with everything else, and it's clear why that is, her vehicle isn't the most discreet. Two wheels, all black, armored plates for the front and rear were welded to a long metal pole which itself is bolted on the vehicle’s side, acting as a mount for the armor.
“Hmm…”
“Cool right? My dad made it himself! He said it can’t ever go down!”
“Good… protection”
The mostly rubber wheels are slightly spiky, and have large ridges, probably to get better grip on smooth sand, and spikes for snow maybe?. It has two seats, one in front, one in the rear, surprisingly comfy looking seats despite all its brutal aspects. Rika got on it, and inserted a metal key, and the vehicle let out a fearsome roar. A mechanical Ignition tells Ciro that Rika’s kind probably isn't incredibly advanced.
‘no offense Rika…”
“Come on up! Another storm is probably coming soon! We don't want to get stuck!”
“O-okay…”
She got up on the back seat, it’s apparently leather, she wondered what kind of animal it came from.
“Ready?”
“Ye- EEK!”
Rika accelerated without warning, causing Ciro to almost fall off, she held onto Rika by hugging her, it felt inappropriate, but she seems fine with it. Ciro’s fine with it too, she's oddly comfortable to hold, maybe it’s just the heat from her body, she noticed that in the cave when she was being… petted, Rika's kind must be hot blooded.
‘Sigh… stranded in a wasteland planet, with a species never encountered before… How lucky am i?’
It would be any star mapper’s wet dream, that's for sure, she just wishes it went a little different, less explosions and less being stranded.
‘if only you’re here, mom’